#tumblr/Consumer Affairs

[galleryyuhself]

Galleryyuhself - Some important information to know.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi! This question has been noodling in my head for a few weeks, and I’ve been really curious to hear your opinion. I’ve appreciated your very thoughtful commentary on the ways the online left in particular have hurt the real and concerted efforts that have been made to navigate through the Gaza war in support of Palestine. I’ve seen a lot of outrage online about Biden bypassing congress in order to make another emergency weapons sale to Israel, which does indeed read as counter to helping to the Palestinians facing endless and indiscriminate violence. I understand that you might not want to answer this ask, because the work that you already do in your life offline and the work that you do here on tumblr to respond to and explain these issues is exhausting enough. Thanks so much for your time and your thoughtful contributions! It’s always really helped me remember to slow down and think critically about the media I consume.

Because you have asked this thoughtfully and in good faith, I will return the favor and give you a careful and extensive answer to the best of my ability. However, obligatory top-of-post disclaimer that I will disable reblogs at the first hint of any wankery in the notes and I will not answer any follow-ups or secondary asks at this time (unless I decide to do so, but I engage with this topic sparingly, judiciously, and only in small doses, so don't count on it).

First, let me say that the moment, I disagree with substantial portions of how Biden is handling the two main foreign-policy crises (Ukraine and Gaza). In regard to Ukraine, I think he's backed off, taken his foot off the gas, and otherwise given Republicans ammunition to keep delaying or watering down a new aid bill, is refusing to disburse military aid packages from the $4 billion of funding remaining that was previously approved by Congress, hasn't sent long-range ATACMS and other critical military hardware that might bring the war to an end sooner, and is not (as of the moment, though recent reporting suggests this might change) pushing hard enough for frozen Russian assets to be transferred to Ukraine for military and/or humanitarian financial assistance. However, I am also aware (unlike, it seems, much of the left-leaning internet) that I am basing these judgments only on my personal impressions, on what is reported (or not reported) in the media (which has plenty of its own problems) and otherwise what is formed in my role as an ordinary American citizen without any kind of special, classified, high-level, or government access. I know nothing more than any of you, and I also know that a lot of what goes on behind closed doors does not appear on Political Twitter and/or the Washington Post or the Guardian or Daily Kos or whatever other aggregate sources of information I or any left-leaning person typically consumes. So it's highly possible (and this is my cautious academic instinct speaking) that I do not, in fact, have a full picture of events. There are also contributing factors that Biden cannot simply handwave aside, even if he did, say, dip back into the $4 billion pot in the meantime. Congress will need to pass a new funding bill for Ukraine aid and the MAGA Republicans have been enthusiastically blocking it to the point where Putin's cronies on Russian state TV praise them effusively for it. We all know about the Republicans and Russia's mutual love affair. So.

The same goes for Gaza, and even more because we have already had reporting about how the Biden administration is walking a behind-the-scenes tightrope in a number of seemingly impossible tasks: keeping the war from spreading to a larger theater, pressuring Netanyahu to dial down, y'know, the rampant genocide (when Netanyahu notoriously doesn't like Biden, was very close with Trump, and would be happy to keep the war going in order to boost Trump's chances of being re-elected and save Netanyahu himself from his own criminal prosecutions), and pursuing a complex policy toward the state of Israel that does not follow the antisemitic Western Online Left's fever dream of "Israel suddenly disappears overnight and falls into the ocean and all Jews die or disappear." We have had multiple credibly sourced reports about this. Blinken is back in the Middle East right now trying to keep the war from spreading. The US under Biden has criticized Israel's essentially empty policy document for post-war Gaza as not being remotely feasible (because it's so vague) and gone so far as to voice support for a two-state solution with Palestinian self-determination (which is itself quite radically different from previous administrations). However, they have also vetoed UN ceasefire resolutions and other essentially meaningless political theater (the UN as a whole has been ruthlessly exposed in the last few years for being completely useless) that are easy to gin up outrage about, and that's what the internet focuses on, rather than any of the other complicated actions taking place.

All of this is to say that no, in fact, I don't blindly support everything the Biden administration is doing in regard to either Ukraine or Israel right now, but I actually have a sense of real-world perspective about it and understand that there are certain immutable realities that we are working with and which will not be erased by some absolute jackasses yelling at Biden in a historically black church at the commemoration of an anti-black terrorist attack. Likewise, as I've said it before and I'll say it again, and as plenty of other people have noticed and pointed out, the Western left is using this as an orgy of pseudo-revolutionary fervor that focuses on using Hamas as a proxy for their own fantasies of violent uprising against their own governments. Because while yes, anti-zionism and antisemitism are two distinct things and represent different aims and goals, it's become more or less irrelevant in allegedly pro-Palestine Western leftist spaces. It's just increasingly rabid, accelerationist, and nihilistic antisemitism all the time, or the obvious usage of "Zionist" to mean "Jew." It's not good. There is no concept of actual restorative justice for Palestinians or other people, such as Ukrainians, Syrians, Uyghurs, Taiwanese, etc, either undergoing genocide or facing the threat of it, because Western leftists have latched onto this cause solely as a stick to beat the Democratic Party with and have no actual moral interest or concern in stopping genocide elsewhere in the world or repudiating it as a method overall. They just want the state of Israel (which they characterize as a "proxy state for white western colonialism" despite the many, many things historically, religiously, and politically wrong with that statement, because it means it now Contains the Right Buzzwords to Oppose It) to be destroyed altogether in the name of "opposing colonialism," but it really seems to be all about opposing Jews. Hmm.

Simply put, Biden is not ever going to pursue a policy of "let's totally abandon Israel tomorrow, never sell it any weapons or allow it to defend its own civilians, and agree that Hamas is actually a good representation or advocate for the Palestinian people" in the way a number of Western Online Leftists seem to think he should do. There is still the fact that Israeli civilians do exist and that Hamas has continued to launch missiles at them daily, inconvenient as that fact might be for the Hamas fanboys (and fangirls) who now populate much of what passes for Western leftist discourse spaces. (Either that or they don't care, because in their view, Israeli civilians are fully acceptable collateral damage by virtue of simply living in Israel in the first place, which -- yikes. Fucking yikes. That is all.) The number of people professing to be lifelong leftists who are Just Shocked at all the antisemitism, or thinking that any and all antisemitism is just artificially introduced into leftist spaces by bad-faith right-wing/Nazi psyops either has not spent any actual time around leftists, or (more likely) simply does not listen to what they openly say. The antisemitism is virulent, constant, and only getting worse. On the most basic level, regardless of the other difficulties around the founding of Israel as a state in 1948 and the fact that doing so on some of the most bitterly religiously, politically, ethnically, and culturally contested territory in the world for over two thousand years was always going to be a massive clusterfuck, the fact of its immediate post-Holocaust creation simply cannot be ignored the way many Online Leftists do. Israel exists because of the worst antisemitic mass murder in recorded history (and that's a high bar). That fact must be incorporated into any actual discussions about its right either to exist or to protect its own civilians. But this gets turned into "Israel exists only as a puppet state of white western colonialists" which is just bad on so, so many levels.

The collective Western Online Leftist feeling seems to be that Hamas are innocent and wronged freedom fighters who are begging for a ceasefire and the cruel Israelis aren't granting them one. This is not true. Hamas has rejected multiple ceasefire opportunities, and continued to launch missiles and retaliatory attacks, because they are terrorists and they do not want or represent any serious opportunity to negotiate in the framework of western liberal democracy. They are treated as helpless woobified blorbos by much of the Western leftist-leaning internet. They are not. In that case, Biden bypassing Congress to sell Israel weapons (which was just something like 100 million of artillery shells, which is not nothing but still not a huge systematic thing like, say, Reagan's Iran-Contra scandal) is not great. I do not support anything Israel is doing to Gaza. It is abhorrent. However, there are reasons for Biden to provide some limited amount of weapons to Israel without congressional approval that do not automatically and mindlessly equate to BIDEN SUPPORTS TOTAL GENOCIDE IN GAZA!!!!!!1 Especially when as I've said, the Online Leftists only care about stopping genocide when it fits their political self-righteousness, and absolutely not at all the rest of the time.

This is representative of the fact that Western Online Leftism has now completed its all-out descent into blind Noam Chomskyism. Chomsky has never met a "leftist" or "anti-Western" genocide he couldn't deny, excuse, or openly cheerlead (going all the way back to the 1970s and Pol Pot/the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia and going up to the minute with Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine). Noam Chomsky is the leftist Henry Kissinger. His ethics and morals are equally abhorrent, he's just as willing to justify total genocide in the name of advancing his preferred political ideology, and while there were (justifiably) celebrations and gloating memes across Tumblr when Kissinger finally bit the dust, Chomsky's beliefs are replicated with slavish adoration in many other Tumblr spaces and spread in some form or another to the rest of the website, which now takes them as leftist gospel (and let's not even talk about Twitter). This represents my absolute frustration with the fact that Western Online Leftism has devolved to such a degraded, mindless, useless, and malevolent level that "cheerlead for any anti-western/Leftist TM terrorist group or state" is taken to be the be-all and end-all of their moral philosophy. Someone remarked that ISIS peaked too early; if they were still at the height of their powers today, they would have a legion of devoted white so-called progressive Twitter users shilling earnestly and angrily for them, and Christ, isn't that the fucking truth.

I know we live in a hard, frightening, complex, and difficult world, and it's hard to sort out what our moral responsibility and action should be at any given time, especially since the answer is always so frustratingly partial and incomplete. Nobody of basic good sense and decency wants to see Gaza leveled while the Israeli state continues to apply a number of violently cruel collective punishments even outside the actual daily bombing of civilians. But for the love of god, let's get rid of the idea that the continued mindless violence doesn't benefit Hamas (because it does; unsurprisingly, sympathy for their cause has soared in Gaza) as much as it does Israel, or that Hamas is some kind of benevolent peacemaker that is being thwarted by the cruel imperialist US/West. And going back to the incident that prompted you to send me this ask: white leftists have often and repeatedly demonstrated their withering disdain for black people, Democratic voters, "mainstream" Americans, and anyone else doesn't buy into the twisted tankie fantasy land where getting rid of Biden would somehow be a massive coup for social justice (by getting Trump, now openly announcing at every turn that he will be a dictator, back into office! Very praxis, much justice. Wow.)

In short: if you, a white person, stand up in Mother Emanuel AME -- one of the most sacred sites for Black churchgoers, who are indeed often heavily Democratic voters -- in the middle of a remembrance service for victims of white supremacist terrorism, after the Black pastor has asked you not to protest inside the church out of respect for the Black community coming together to relive its trauma -- just so you can heckle Biden and feel good about yourself, then Jesus Christ. You don't care about restorative justice for people of color, or literally any justice at all, much less "stopping genocide." You just want to use them as props for your Chomsky cosplay revolutionary fantasies and your sense of self-righteous superiority over literally everyone else, regardless of the real-world consequences. So I have no hesitation whatsoever in telling those people to get fucked. Often and repeatedly.

[ihrthoney]

love isn’t enough

pairing: club owner ran haitani x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort

word count: 1.5k

an: first post being back on tumblr! this is a remake of my old work from my old blog!

Ignorance truly is bliss…

but only if you’re stupid.

It was obvious, the signs were as clear as day. Although, love was always so blinding. While you were watching the clouds and enjoying the summer breeze, his eyes followed the birds flying in the other direction. 

There weren’t any lipstick stains on his clothes nor did he stay out later than normal. If there was a faint scent of perfume following him as he walked towards the shower, you brushed it off. Clubs are always full of people, some scents are just stronger than most. 

That’s what you would've continued telling yourself had it not been a smell you learned to get used to. Every night that he came home from work, he smelled vaguely of that same perfume. It could be a regular or a worker who walks past him throughout the night.

You weren’t stupid. As much as you wished you were, you weren’t. 

The perfume wasn’t the only thing you caught on to. Unfortunately, it took weeks for the smell to become something you’ve recognized or rather, something you chose to accept.

Just last week, Ran was off and you guys decided to spend the day in bed and binging shows. That night, you surprised Ran by renting a movie he wanted to see for a while but missed because of work. During the most interesting part, he got a call and usually, he ignored the noise but this time he didn’t hesitate to grab his phone and leave the room. 

You couldn’t remember the last time a work call lasted two hours. While the contact name on the screen said Rindou, you knew better than to believe it. 

He clearly knew how to cover his tracks, his behavior didn’t change, not drastically anyway. His phone didn’t suddenly have a password nor did he try to hide who he was texting. Just like you, he wasn’t an idiot. But as time went on, he must’ve mistook you for one.

You and Ran had been dating since you guys were 18. There’s nothing you don’t know about him, you know him better than yourself sometimes. Any changes in his behavior you notice immediately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. 

Despite everything pointing to the tragic truth that Ran was having an affair, you were waiting for him to admit it. It felt unfair to break it off and be left uneven while he was already filling the void.

Years of your life had been devoted to him, you supported him with everything you could give. From cleaning his wounds after gang fights to watching his (and his brothers’) club succeed.

Would there have been a hole in his heart if you left? When did he stop loving you? Why couldn’t he have just broken it off? 

Endless questions were filling your head. It’s been about 3 months since you noticed the perfume. The denial gets harder to run from, reality starts to slowly consume you. 

You wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in it now, so instead of wallowing away in the empty house you got dressed and ventured into town. 

Of course, it didn’t help in the slightest; everything reminded you of Ran, and the realization that your relationship was coming to an end hurt so much. You walk the streets alone and are reminded of the night of your first date. Hands intertwined, leaning on his shoulder and laughing about something you could no longer remember, you stared at him like he just offered you the world.

“You’re nothing like they say Ran Haitani.” You laughed, you guys are hand in hand, your apartment just a few blocks down.

“What? Am I even more handsome in person?” He says smugly, only half joking.

At that comment, you drop his hand, “Never mind, you’re exactly as they said.” you jokingly say.

“Nah, I’m even better.” Ran remarks. Using your linked hands, he pulls you both to a stop. 

He looks at you for a little bit, the sound of cars faint in the background, and the moonlight softly reflects on his face, “You are so beautiful.”

His voice was so soft, so gentle. As flustered as you were at the compliment, you couldn’t pull your eyes from his.

“I had a really good time with you tonight, yn.” His hand parts from yours and softly cradles your face.

“May I?” At that moment, you would’ve given him anything he could’ve possibly wanted.

You nod in response and he wastes no time in connecting your lips. 

You were so caught up in the memory that you didn’t see the person in front of you. The woman slightly stumbles at your shoulders making contact. You open your mouth, apology at the tip of your tongue when you notice a man next to her.

Suddenly, the world went quiet. The coffee shop you had entered was nothing but a blur as your vision zones onto the man holding the woman’s waist. 

His eyes widen at the sight of you. He was supposed to be at work.

Before an excuse could even form, you turned around and walked straight back home, not daring to look back. 

He was having an affair. There wasn’t enough time to analyze the woman he was with, your mind was too busy swallowing the confirmed suspicions. 

You knew he was cheating, but a small part of you had foolishly clung to the hope that it was just a misunderstanding. Several emotions coursed through your body at once, millions of thoughts raced through your head. Yet, you couldn’t feel a thing. 

So many scenarios played out in your head that you thought you would feel angrier, burn his clothes, and trash the house. But, you couldn’t move a single limb. Instead, you sat quietly on the couch, the apartment dark and even emptier than you left it despite nothing being touched.

There’s a soft click that brings you out of your daze. You hear him take off his shoes and walk towards the living room. With every step, your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

The dread makes your stomach sink, suddenly you feel nauseous. You’re scared, you’re so fucking scared, this wasn’t supposed to be the end. Years of your life will be nothing but a memory and he’ll be someone you have to remember longer than you’ve known.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Ran sitting on a chair at the dining table. 

Without looking at him, you speak. “You’re a coward.” 

There was so much you wanted to say, even more to ask, but the only emotion you could feel was anger. 

“I know.” He said it so quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter the tension in the air.

You waited to see if he would say more, but he didn’t. The silence was deafening as if the apartment was absent of any soul. 

Swallowing your pride, you spoke up again, “Why didn’t you just break up with me.” 

Ran answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“I deserve better than an “I don’t know”, Ran.” You argued, gaze moving from the tv screen.

For the first time in months, you see him. This wasn’t the man you fell in love with, but rather the shell of him.

Cruelly, he says, “You deserve everything.” 

The tears were starting to burn your eyes, he didn’t deserve your tears, “Don’t, Ran.”

“There’s nothing that I could say that’ll make any of this better. I cheated on you.”

The tension in the air snapped, and your tears started to spill over despite fighting to hold them back. You knew; you saw it with your own eyes, but to hear him actually admit it hurt that much more. There’s no coming back from this, the man you love no longer loves you. 

“How long?” The eye contact between you two never falters. 

“Four months.”

He had been out with another woman for four months. It makes you sick to know he still came back home. You can’t help that sob that chokes out, “Why Ran?”

Ran stands up at the sound of you crying, but you move from the couch and step deeper into the living room. 

“I didn’t want to live without you.” He admits.

At this point you’re sobbing, “That’s so fucking stupid!”

“I don’t love you anymore, yn. But I didn’t know how to let you go. You’ve been in my life since we were 18. I doubt we could’ve been friends-” You interrupt him.

“That’s so unfair! You don’t get to make that choice for me! Maybe you’re right, we probably wouldn’t have been able to be friends after everything but cheating was your next option?” He’s silent at that.

The silence doesn’t last long though, “Get out, Ran.”

There’s so much you want to know, though, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more pain. 

Without another word, he turns and walks to the door, taking half of your heart with him.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[suzuran777]

Lamento Beyond the Void: Glossary

Since I've been slowly replaying Lamento, I wanted to create my own glossary to link back to my Lamento Expiatio translation posts! I'm sure there's already a lot of information online about Lamento's worldbuilding and the terms they use in the game, however since some pages of the wikia are a bit empty and I'm having trouble finding some older Tumblr blog posts, I decided to make one too.

Most of this is translated directly from the official website, the World Guidebook, and Lamento Green Notes. I tried to keep it consistent with some of the commonly used fan-translation terms, but I also included the Japanese words in case anyone's curious what the original term in the game is.

Shisa/Sisa (祇沙): An island nation surrounded by a yellow ocean. Blocked by coral reefs, the inhabitants of Shisa don't interact a lot with surrounding nations. Officially, the nation's leader is the lord of Ransen, but each village has a strong sense of autonomy. According to the legend, Shisa's sun fell into the sea a long time ago, which dyed the ocean a yellow color.

Moon of Light (陽の月) and Shadow (陰の月) : The Moon of Light rises during daytime, while the Moon of Shadow rises at night. Both moons generate almost no heat, that's why it's said that Shisa's weather feels like spring all year round.

Ribika (リビカ): The inhabitants of Shisa, characterized by their cat ears and tails. They can be divided into two different species, large species and small species. While larger species have stronger bodies and have great fighting abilities, smaller species are more flexible and agile. Smaller species usually larger ears and longer tails compared to bigger species. Even though Ribika don't have the best eyesight, they have excellent hearing abilities and can rotate their ears to determine the location where sound is coming from. When they get angry or excited, their pupils become thin and narrow. Their sense of smell is also very strong. Not only do their tails help them with balance, it's also possible to guess what emotions they're feeling by looking at the movement of their tails. They are natural hunters, therefore their staple food is mostly meat, but they also eat fruits and nuts (such as the Kuim fruit). Most Ribika aren't super interested in food and can easily last several days without eating.

✧General terms✧

Two Canes/Futatsuzue (二つ杖): A race that according to Shisa's legends, once inhabited Shisa. They left their civilization behind, and many can only speculate why they disappeared. It is believed that Two Canes were in fact the humans Razel talked about.

Touga (闘牙): Touga is a term used to describe skilled fighters. They often work together with Sanga as a pair. Unlike Sanga who are born with their abilities, anyone can train to become a Touga. A Touga without a Sanga has no chance of beating a Touga and Sanga pair in battle.

Sanga (賛牙): Sanga are born with a special ability to support others with the power of song, boosting the other person's fighting ability. A Sanga doesn't actually use their voice to sing, the "song" is usually a melody. Because of their special abilities, they are highly sought after.

Sangachou (賛牙長): Literally translates to "Chief Sanga". They are guardian cats who serve the families of Shisa's feudal lords. Sanga are often requested to play a supporting role in the country's national affairs and are sometimes in charge of politics on behalf of their feudal lords.

Devil (悪魔): Ribika aren't the only inhabitants of Shisa, there are also more dangerous beings such as monsters and devils. Devils can be recognized by their horns and tails. It's said that they can make any wish come true, as long as you give them what they want.

The Void/Utsuro (虚ろ): A mysterious phenomenon which has been slowly affecting different areas of Shisa. It consumes all living beings, and the spread of it has made it difficult to hunt for food, often leading to food shortages and starvation.

The Sickness/Shikku (失躯): A deadly disease which leads to pain, fever and the sudden loss of limbs and other body parts. Female Ribika are much more likely to get the disease, which is why they have become very rare.

Black cats: Black cats are considered a symbol of misfortune. It's said that when many black cats are spotted in Shisa, abnormal weather conditions and natural disasters become more common. Because of this stigma, Ribika from villages like Kira do not interact with the outside world.

✧Locations✧

Ransen (藍閃): Shisa's capital, located in the center of the country. This city was built on top of the ruins of the Two Canes, and is characterized by its square-shaped buildings. Ransen is also the city where the country's most important individuals live, such as the feudal lords and their Sanga. The library is also located here, which was the legacy of the Two Canes. It has a large collection of books that describe the history and legends of Shisa. Under normal circumstances, entry is prohibited, but on the last day of winter it becomes a venue for a costume ball and anyone participating can enter the building. Big festivals also take place in this city which attract visitors from all over the country, such as the spring festival and the dark winter festival.

Karou (火楼): A small village located in the southwestern part of Shisa, and also the place where Konoe's house is located. The town is inhabited by a very cautious race of warriors, who learn combat techniques at an early age. They are not very fond of strangers and people rarely leave their houses. It's one of the villages where isolation has become a serious problem due to the Void, and in recent years the extreme food shortages gave them no choice but to resort to cannibalism.

Kira (吉良): A village located deep inside of the secluded valley. A cursed tribe is rumored to live here, whose ears and tails are black, and their bodies covered in strange markings. As a result of these rumors and its hard to find location, even merchants avoid Kira.

Meigi (冥戲): Kira's rival tribe. Its inhabitants are known to be devil worshippers and because of this, they are even more infamous than those who live in Kira.

Setsura (刹羅): A village located in the northern part of Ransen, where large species of Ribika live. Because of their strength and great fighting abilities, many of them become bodyguards or bounty hunters.

Lost Forest/Mayoi no Mori (迷いの森): A vast forest located between Ransen and Karou. The thick branches of the trees and leaves block most of the light, making it an easy place to get lost, even during daytime. Some merchants developed special techniques to navigate the forest, which is why Tokino can travel to Karou without getting lost. Recently, the Void has affected large parts of the forest, eroding its surroundings at an abnormally fast rate, which is why some also refer to it as the Void Forest.

Secluded Valley/Yukoku no Tani (幽刻の谷): Located somewhere inside the Lost Forest. A place covered in a dark, thick fog, where plants and trees wither. It's rumored that the village of Kira is located somewhere in this valley. Most living beings, including animals, avoid this place.

Mirror Lake/Kagami-ko (カガミ湖): A mysterious lake located northeast of Ransen, which is considered one of the biggest mysteries of Shisa. Even though the sound of waves can be heard when approaching the lake, the surface appears to be calm, resembling a mirror. For some reason the surface of the lake is impenetrable, so even walking on it is possible. There is also a cave near the lake, but it cannot be entered under normal circumstances.

✧Mythology✧

Song of the Beginning: According to the legends, Ribika was a goddess and also the wife of Two Canes/Futatsuzue. It is said that she created Shisa after laying a rainbow egg that fell to the earth and shattered, which awakened life. The song Ribika sang while this happened is referred to as "The Song of the Beginning".

Ribika (god): To protect life of those who inhabited Shisa, she took the form of a cat and lived among them. However, in this form she was not able to support the sun any longer, which fell into the sea. She then split the moon into two, the moon of light and the moon of shadow.

Some extra fun facts I wasn't sure where to add in this list:

Konoe and Asato would be considered small species of cats even though Asato's the same height as Bardo, so appearance-wise it seems like only the ears and tails look different.

I think it's pretty obvious that Bardo's supposed to be a tiger and for Rai's a snow leopard, but they just describe Konoe's design as ''milk tea color''.

The books mentions that Ribika are covered in a thin layer of invisible hair which they like to keep clean, which is why they groom themselves, and yes their tongues are similar to real cats.

The reason why Ribika (the species) refer to themselves as ''cats'' is because the cats that appeared in old literature shared the same traits as them (ears and a tail).

For some reason, there are no remaining pictures of what Two Canes looked like, though Razel does confirm they were in fact the same as humans. It's pretty much unknown where humanity went and why all traces of them in the books were erased.

The webcomic has shown some things that were only mentioned in text before in the game, such as designs of what the monsters look like (they kind of look like feline creatures with horns) and human Razel.

In the interviews they mention that they were inspired by Celtic culture and music, specifically Ireland. Shisa isn't supposed to be an existing country, but you do see some inspirations in the game like the Celtic knot patterns.

[bellasmumblingsandmusings]

What Could Have Been

Chapter One

Previously: Prologue Tumblr Link for Prologue

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. NSFW, Ethical and non Ethical BDSM, noncon, some allusions to sexual violence, attempted sexual violence, dubcon, blood licking/blood kink, reference to cheating behavior, emotional trauma, group sex, sex, smutt, anxiety, negative thinking, sexual trauma, recovery, healing, angst,

Word count: 6.6K

Status: Ongoing

Author's note: A story about two broken people making mistakes, not being heroes and yet trying to find a way to love  themselves and each other.

Song for this Chapter: Yearning Hearts - Forgotten Odes - Eternal Eclipse : Spotify Link

A03

Entire Story Link on AO3

Spotify Playlist

Chapter One: Shall We Dance?

The Ancunín Estate played host to a lavish ball, its opulent halls filled with the elite of Baldur's Gate and beyond. Astarion, draped in his most resplendent attire—a meticulously tailored white brocade shirt, its fabric whispering against his skin, embellished with intricate gold embroidery that seemed to dance in the flickering candlelight. Long sleeves adorned with delicate ruffles gently caressed his wrists, while his trousers, fashioned from the darkest of cloths, hugged his form with a sleek elegance that bespoke his aristocratic bearing. His polished boots clicked softly against the marble floors as he moved through the throng, every step a silent proclamation of his presence.

Radiating an air of amusement and aloof confidence, Astarion surveyed the festivities from the fringes of the ballroom. Though surrounded by a sea of faces, he stood apart by choice, his demeanor a careful blend of poise and concealed intensity. In the depths of his crimson eyes, a faint glimmer of darkness flickered, a silent promise of the secrets he held close to his heart.

As his gaze swept over the transformed Ancunín Estate—a place once shrouded in shadows and despair under the cruel gaze of his sire’s control, now bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and laughter—Astarion's thoughts turned inexorably to his beloved, Sima. In the midst of the glittering crowd, he longed for her presence, a beacon of light in a sea of pretense and artifice. Yet, beneath his suave exterior, a torrent of emotions churned—a potent mix of desire and determination, longing and regret.

With each polite exchange and forced smile, Astarion concealed not only his emotions, but also the true purpose of this grand affair: to reclaim Sima's heart and soul, to draw her back into his embrace. As he navigated the intricacies of courtly conversation, his mind whirled with plans and strategies, each one crafted with meticulous care to ensnare her in his web of desire and control.

While his desire to reunite with her burned fiercely, he acknowledged the potential necessity of prolonged seduction. Should his former companions dare to impede his designs, he would confront them head-on, employing any means necessary to remove the obstacles obstructing his path. Their tacit acceptance of his ascendancy, coupled with his consummate manipulation and surveillance skills, rendered their opposition insignificant.

The decision to initiate her into full vampirehood weighed heavily on his soul, a testament to the depth of his commitment and the gravity of his desires. Though he recognized the looming shift in their power dynamic, he remained steadfast in his conviction as her eventual master and sire, his resolve unyielding in the face of uncertainty.

Amidst the façade of polite society, Astarion’s now-warmed veins filled with fierce longing, his every thought consumed by the woman who held his heart in her hands. With each passing moment, his anticipation grew, a silent countdown to the moment when he could finally claim his desired prize—Sima, once and for all, by his side.

In these quiet moments between dull conversations and cutting dressing downs, Astarion's mind wandered to the past, a haunting echo overshadowed memories. For all he had gained, the absence of Sima made his triumph incomplete, a bitter reminder of the one thing he desired most but could not yet possess.

The downfall of the Nether Brain marked Astarion's ascension to prominence in Baldur's Gate, a victory that solidified his dominion over the city's underbelly. Freed from the shackles of his former master's influence, he now reigned supreme, his authority unassailable by mortal standards. Through a web of bribery, blackmail, and subterfuge, he exerted his control over the city's key figures, safeguarding his domain and advancing his clandestine agenda. Though the city's rulers tread cautiously around him, recognizing the peril of antagonizing the enigmatic vampire lord, Astarion's pact with Duke Wyll Ravengard ensured his continued autonomy, provided he operated from the shadows.

Astarion was only broken out of his reverie by the announcement of the chamberlain noting the arrivals of heroes of the realm. As the companions made their grand entrance into the hallowed halls of the Ancunín Palace, their camaraderie palpable, Astarion's gaze lingered on Karlach, Gale, and Shadowheart. Intrigued by their seamless bond, he couldn't help but marvel at their unique talents and indispensable roles within the team. Despite his confidence in his ability to best them, the courage and loyalty they displayed to one another was undeniable.

The music swelled in the grand foyer, amplifying Astarion's impatience with every passing moment of delay. In a darkened corner, he found himself pinching the bridge of his nose. Though surrounded by the opulent crowd, he watched the clock with a silent urgency, his eyes scanning for Sima's familiar figure amidst the throng. Frustration mounted with each fruitless glance, uncertainty clouding his mind as the night stretched on. Leaning against a wall, he engaged in conversation with an elder spawn, detailing Sima's appearance in hopes of spotting her. Disappointment gnawed at him as the minutes stretched into hours, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. With the looming threat of losing his prize, he sipped from his wine goblet through pursed lips, and his mind turned to prior failures.

Since assuming mastery of the palace, his spawn had multiplied under Astarion's command, a reminder of his past and a reflection of his power. Despite his efforts to train them, each encounter served as a painful reminder of his abuse under Cazador's rule, deepening his unease.

Despite his efforts, Astarion had not succeeded in erasing Sima from his thoughts over the past year. Not even close. He had tried with various lovers, both men and women, and had even attempted in some desperate moments to find solace in the company of his spawn, but they only served as painful reminders of his past abuse at his sire's hand. Each entanglement and empty carnal release deepened his sense of longing for Sima, intensifying the void she had left behind. None could match her beauty, her wit, or her intelligence—none could hold his interest as she had. His frustration and self-disgust clawed at him, his inability to replace her driving him to lash out cruelly at those who sought to fill her void. He was even disgusted with himself for not being able to find anyone better.

The spawn he had sent out to survey slinked back to Astarion, its demeanor anxious. Frustration and worry gnawed at the vampire lord, his jaw gritted and tense as the possibility of her non-arrival cast a dark cloud over his thoughts.

"What now?" Astarion snapped, his annoyance thinly veiled. "She still hasn't shown up?"

The spawn shifted nervously. "No sign of her, Master. We've looked everywhere."

Astarion rolled his eyes, a sneer playing on his lips. "Of course not. Why would she make things easy?"

The spawn swallowed hard, clearly fearful. "Sorry, Master. We've tried our best."

"Clearly not hard enough," Astarion muttered under his breath, a derisive chuckle escaping him. Louder, he said, "Keep looking. And if anyone gets in your way, deal with them. I don't care how."

The spawn nodded frantically. "Yes, Master. We'll find her, I promise."

Astarion waved a dismissive hand. "Just go. I've got better things to do than deal with your incompetence."

As the spawn hurried off to resume its search, Astarion's irritation simmered beneath the surface. The thought of Sima's continued absence grated on his nerves, threatening to ruin his plans. But he refused to let it derail him. Not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

As the chamberlain's booming voice once again filled the grand hall with its announcement, Astarion's attention snapped away from his swirling frustrations. "The heroes of Baldur's Gate have arrived!" The words echoed through the opulent chamber, drawing everyone's gaze toward the entrance.

His heart lurched as Sima glided into view, her graceful presence accompanied by the towering figure of Wyll, now Duke Ravengard. Astarion's breath caught in his throat, caught off guard by their unexpected arrival. The sight of them together stirred a tempest within him, threatening to engulf him whole.

Surprise gave way to a surge of jealousy and resentment as he watched them approach. The image of Sima by Wyll's side fueled the flames of insecurity that smoldered within him. Despite their truce, Astarion couldn't shake the gnawing suspicion that lingered in the depths of his mind. Was this mere coincidence, or had Wyll orchestrated this meeting deliberately to rattle him?

Standing by the grand staircase, Astarion's grip tightened on the polished railing, his knuckles turning white against the ornate gold and white finery he wore. His narrowed gaze followed Sima and Wyll, his chest tight with the fever of rage which made him feel choked. The thought of them together, of Wyll stealing her away from him, ignited a fierce blaze so profound that he etched its evidence into the wood beneath his nails.

But Astarion was a master of disguise, a performer on life's grand stage. With practiced ease, he forced a mask of indifference onto his features, concealing the storm raging beneath the surface. His jaw clenched with determination, refusing to let his vulnerability show, even as the weight of his emotions threatened to crush him.

This would not be his moment of weakness, not in front of the elite of the Upper City. Astarion straightened his posture, as he suppressed the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He tightened his grip on the goblet in his hand, the nails clinking hard against the delicate crystal. He would not allow Sima, Wyll, or anyone else to see him falter. Not now, not ever.

Across the mass of the prestigious assemblage, Sima battled down her surging fear.

Her heart raced as she descended the ballroom steps, Wyll's reassuring presence by her side. Despite the ornate decor disguising the past, the echoes of betrayal lingered, too close for comfort. Her ebony curls shone like polished silk, and her dark brown eyes betrayed no hint of intrigue. Her mahogany fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the intricate fabric of her black gown, the memories of past pain still haunting her every step. Yet, she had made a promise to Shadowheart, a promise that compelled her to confront the past, no matter how painful.

As they descended onto the ballroom floor, Sima glanced at Wyll, his steadfast support bolstering her resolve. She offered him a grateful smile, her eyes reflecting a mixture of uncertainty and determination. His reassuring squeeze on her hand sent a wave of comfort through her, easing the tension coiled in her chest.

"So, still up for being my buffer tonight?" Sima asked Wyll, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness beneath the determined facade.

Wyll nodded, his expression filled with concern. "Of course. Whatever awaits us, Sima, I'll stand by your side. I'll shield you from harm, even if it means bearing it myself."

Sima's shoulders relaxed slightly at his words, a brief moment of solace amidst the swirling chaos of emotions. She leaned into Shadowheart's embrace, exchanging pleasantries with the rest of their companions. Each hug, each shared glance, served as a silent reassurance, a reminder that she was not alone in this battle.

Across the room, Astarion's eyes followed Sima's every move, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. She felt his gaze like a physical caress, stirring a heady concoction within her—anger, longing, and a hint of fear.

When Lord Crane, a tiefling nobleman, approached her, Sima accepted his invitation to dance with a bright smile. As they glided across the floor, her movements graceful and fluid, Astarion's gaze bore into them with palpable fury.

As Sima danced with Lord Crane, she exchanged playful banter with him, her movements fluid yet guarded. She chuckled inwardly, desperately hoping that Astarion's attention was diverted elsewhere, perhaps with a newfound companion. His cutting words echoed in her mind, a painful reminder of her perceived expendability. Reflecting on her journey from Amn to Calimport, where she’d honed her skills as a bard while delving deeper into witchcraft and sorcery, she considered offering Lord Crane a tarot card reading. The occult intrigued him, but she remained cautious despite his seemingly benign demeanor.

As Sima exchanged pleasantries, even briefly with Lord Crane, the rampant indignation  caused Astarion’s veins on his neck to spike, and he couldn't bear to watch any longer. With a surge of jealousy burning in his chest, he glided through the throng of ball attendees, cutting off Lord Crane and placing a possessive hand on Sima's arm.

"Sima. Might I steal this dance from you?"

Sima felt the sudden warmth of his touch, a stark contrast to the chill of his former embrace as a spawn. She tensed instinctively, her body stiffening under his grasp. Meeting his crimson eyes, she saw a hardness that hadn't been there before, a distant glimmer of something she couldn't quite place. Sima managed a thin smile. "If the Lord Ancunín insists."

As Astarion led her onto the dance floor, she couldn't shake the feeling of being ensnared in a trap of his making.

Astarion responded with a thin smile, his eyes betraying only the briefest hint of hunger. Every word he spoke felt like a half-truth. Despite the changes in him, he still felt an unexplainable pull towards her, a magnetic force that defied logic. "You honor me with your grace," Astarion replied, his voice smooth but strained slightly on the edges. 

He guided her into the dance, his touch firm yet oddly chilly. Despite his efforts to maintain a façade of civility, there was an unmistakable edge to his movements, a hint of restraint that belied the intensity of will to possess his former love.

Astarion understood that their bodies could tell a story of their own; their dance held an undercurrent of something darker beneath the surface—a predator sizing up their prey. He drew Sima closer with effortless grace, dancing as he always had, yet there was a subtle shift in his demeanor that felt like a hunter poised to strike.

As Sima danced with Astarion, she felt a broiling fever across her skin—a mixture of rage, betrayal and anxiety. With each step, she fought to maintain a semblance of composure, her movements fluid yet guarded. She glanced at him briefly, then looked over his shoulder, carefully considering her next move. She tried to maintain a distance between them in the dance, but with every subtle attempt to pull away, he gracefully and unwaveringly drew her closer, his grip allowing no refusal.

Astarion pulled her in again, drawing her closer until they seemed to share breath. He could feel her resistance, but he kept his grip, remembering her penchant for these little games. He offered her a half-grin, his eyes glinting with a hungering gleam as they locked onto hers. Despite her attempts to hide it, he could see the fear lurking in the depths of her gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the power he held over her.

As if she could ever forget how his body made her feel. Sima considered that the sheer proximity of him made her recoil and mourn in equal measure. But fancy footwork couldn't mask cruelty, malice, or arrogance. She reminded herself of this, realizing she had to be extremely cautious. He wasn't a spawn anymore; even her thoughts were not safe from his reach. While Shadowheart may have cast Protection from Evil and Good on her, shielding her from compulsion and charm, she understood she had to guard herself vigilantly tonight.

She remained deliberately silent, recognizing that the stakes of this perilous game had escalated. In this delicate waltz, speaking first meant relinquishing the upper hand.

Astarion took another step, drawing them even closer, his hand clutching her waist. His movements became subtly more aggressive, reminiscent of the deliberate strides of a stalking wolf. His gaze remained fixed on her, and in the lingering silence, she felt his lips caress her neck, his voice barely a whisper.

"Careful , darling. I could be tempted to mistake your silence for acceptance and think you enjoy being this close to me," Astarion warned, his tone laced with amusement.

Sima sharply turned, resisting his lead but managing the step gracefully. Only a master dancer could discern her attitude from the footwork.

"Oh yes, I forgot; deference is your preferred state for all your interactions now, my lord, " she retorted, her tone sharp with sarcasm.

Astarion's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her comment, his grip tightening on her abdomen. He knew her defiance was just a game, a part of their twisted foreplay.

He smiled at her, his darkening red eyes dangerously glinting. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Would it bother you so much if you found yourself in a state of deference to me, little love?"

Sima practically clawed his shoulder and locked eyes with him as she hissed the words, "I'd rather die, my lord ."

As he’d expected. Disobedience was the essence of Sima; without it, she wouldn't be herself. He could already see she would be an intriguing mate, and her challenge promised to delight him in every way.

Astarion chuckled at her words, squeezing her the curve of her waist harder and pulling her closer to him. He felt the heat of her anger fueling those words. There was a fine line between genuine rebellion and play, and he relished dancing on that edge. Despite her anger, she seemed so vulnerable in his arms. How could he resist playing with her?

He responded with a seductive smirk on his lips, his body tightening against hers.

"And what if I were to command you?"

Sima turned with him hip to hip in a circle, her eyes burning into his, her body graceful and yet cold towards him. "I'd like to see you try your tricks on me. Perhaps I have a few tricks of my own now, my lord ," she growled back.

Every word of dissent from Sima was a powerful turn-on for Astarion. He enjoyed the tension that came with her fighting back so fiercely.

Astarion pulled her into his hips hard for a moment, then pressed his stiff cock against her, as  from his lips danced hair's breadth away from her pointed ear. He crooned the next words.

"What if I were to pin you against the wall, my sweet darling? My powerful hands holding you against it, my chest pressed against yours, while I whispered sweet nothings of domination and punishment. That must sound enticing." His voice softened, and his eyes were full of promised intent, yet there was an underlying tenderness to his words. He was enjoying this.

Sima's sigh spoke volumes, her eyes locking onto Astarion's with a mix of boredom and disgust, her body language radiating a sense of readiness. "The greatest mistake you made was thinking I was beneath you. So no, it is decidedly not."

Astarion paused for a moment, genuinely considering her words; his eyes turning into brief slits as he did so. She was not in the slightest below him, and yet the act of her being so defiant made him feel as though she were. At the same time, he was genuinely thrilled to have someone he could play with who was really playing back for once.

"I should hope you don't think I was underestimating you. But very well. Challenge accepted. I look forward to finding out just what your tricks are, sweetheart ."

As Sima continued to follow his lead, her brown eyes glinted with veiled intent. She had a plan, unlike him, and she had no intention of waxing poetic about it. That ridiculous soliloquy after he ascended still lingered in her memory. Perhaps he was intoxicated by power at the time, but who could tell? She smiled, sharp and cold, like a dagger concealed beneath silk.

"Be ready for disappointment."

Astarion's response was immediate. He erased the distance between them, his presence enveloping her. His eyes held hers with an unwavering stare, his breath ghosted against her skin. 

As the dance came to an end, Sima's gaze met his, the promise of a contest passing between them. "What is it you used to say during battle? Your rapiers held high, right… Shall we dance ?"

Astarion's eyes flickered with recognition. This was more than just a dance—it was a battle of wills. He no longer sought to woo her; his desire was to possess her, to see her submit to him. His words carried a hint of threat, his arousal fueled by her defiance.

With a wolfish grin, he replied, "With pleasure."

As he pulled her back into his arms, leading her into another dance, this time the intense volta, Sima countered with, "Terms of engagement?"

"My terms: Sima Shoker must submit to Astarion Ancunín and accept his terms of complete submission. If she wishes to be my equal after such a state of complete submission, she will earn it by proving her devotion to me as such. All other terms are non-negotiable at this stage in our relationship."

Sima scoffed as he tightly held her by the waist, guiding her through another turn to maintain appearances. "Spoken like a true former magistrate. Tell me, is there an acre of land, or is there a allotment of chattel? How boring. Let's make it interesting, shall we? You show me all your cards, and I'll show you mine."

Astarion snickered. "If you wish us to be upfront about our intentions, so be it. But if you have no chance to win, don't play at a game . You are mine in every way, my love. A mere mortal with a pathetic few levels of arcane study has no chance against a centuries-old, experienced vampire. You have only two cards to play: to submit or run. Which will it be?"

Sima's smile was sharper than ever before. She had been very busy this year. Very...very busy. She leaned in close to his ear, her lips barely brushing it. "I choose to fight."

Astarion let out a dark chortle.

"Oh, darling... You've made a truly fatal mistake, haven't you? You think, maybe in your hubris, that you can fight me ? I would drink you like milk from a chalice . Your little tricks won't work on me. I know far more secrets and have experienced far worse than you ever could. I know how to fight dirtier than you ever could. Now..."

He whispered with a drawl in her ear, the promise of pleasure hinted.

"Come on. Submit."

As he turned her and dipped her, Sima retorted again, "Now, you played your cards. Let's go back to the terms. Compulsion? Command? Old hat really , but whatever you like. Ahh..one question..very important..your misguided calls for me to submit are what? Prelude to a turn? Is that it?" She leaned into Astarion's pointed ear, each word laced with venom and anger.

"Old hat?! " Astarion replied, the mask of charm falling from his features and anger flashing in his crimson eyes. For the briefest moment, Astarion's fangs revealed themselves before disappearing again behind his lips.

"My terms have not changed, mortal . You will submit to me utterly and completely. And yes, in time, I would turn you into my equal. My beloved. My beautiful, sweet, and powerful vampire consort. But right now...

Astarion leaned close to Sima's ear.

"...You submit. Then you earn it ."

Sima nodded, his words a testament to his changed nature. "So, the same lies as before. Let me guess: I submit, and you turn me into a spawn and then a true vampire. So much for learning from your mistakes. So much for loving me. But that was the real lie, wasn't it?" As she seared the words through pursed lips, he spun and pulled her in, facing him with their arms entangled.

"Let me be clear: I will turn you into a vampire . You will be equal to me. I truly and deeply loved you." Astarion leaned close to Sima's face, his features softening just slightly as his eyes trailed to her lips.

"But I will not let you take advantage of my feelings for you. I need to know I can trust you, Sima. You also need to be able to trust me. And so, we have the terms. You submit first, and then we earn each other. Fair, no ?"

Sima pulled up her chin, defiant and proud. "My, my , you really have everything figured out, don't you?"

Astarion pulled her closer and whispered directly in her ear. His tone was a sensual hiss. " My love, you've no idea ."

Sima grasped Astarion's hand harder as they continued to dance in the ballroom, their tête-à-tête as masterful as any dancer's footwork. "So then, let the games begin. You try to use your tricks on me, your spells, and your vampiric charms. And if I lose, I suppose I lose. Now, let's discuss when I win . I've heard your terms; now hear mine."

Astarion smiled as he spun her into another dip, his eyes flashing with amusement as he trailed his nose over her cleavage, inhaling her jasmine scent. His demeanor was flirtatious, and his grin was devilish. He spoke with a breathy murmur, leaning down to whisper into her ear. "And what terms would those be, my darling?"

As he pulled her back up with a snap, a smile that would shame any devil and wither any cleric was on Sima's lips as she whispered in retaliation, "If I win, you'll let me change you back into a spawn."

Her eyes locked with his, and Astarion could tell behind those chestnut eyes she was completely and brazenly honest.

Astarion's lips parted in a cruel, mocking smile. The challenge was accepted, and the terms were set. There were nothing but the slightest of pauses in between, just long enough to savor the moment.

"Then it would appear that we have ourselves a little bet, my darling . If you manage to truly best me and take all my tricks off the table, then you may try to make me a spawn again, and I will abide by your terms."

Sima smirked. "And if you win, then you can expect me to, in time, accept true vampirism. You did say I get an adjustment period. How merciful of you ."

"My mercy knows no bounds, love." Astarion dipped her once more, only wanting to inhale that sweet scent again, his lips trailing over the swell of her bosom that he desired to devour. The game had begun.

As he raised her up, Sima let out a haughty breath and looked out to the garden. "How about the hedge maze? See if your charms are up to snuff there. As good a place as any and away from prying eyes."

Astarion nodded, a faint, secretive grin tugging at his lips. His eyes gleamed with wicked fervor. "That is indeed a lovely idea. Come, we'll take a stroll, and then we'll see just how powerful a witch you are."

Sima recoiled from Astarion's touch the moment the dance concluded, as though his grasp had scorched her flesh. She had to bite back on the wrath that welled in her. No, no, she had to be calm . So she smiled slyly and picked up the skirt of her gown.

"After you."

Astarion's smile held firm, a veneer of charm masking the tumultuous sea of emotions churning within him. His grip on her hand tightened, a subtle yet unmistakable assertion of possession as he led her beyond the ornate doors, onto the expansive, well-tended lawn that stretched before them. Bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the manicured grounds of the estate unfolded like a canvas of natural splendor.

In every direction, the gardens sprawled in a tapestry of colors and scents, each bloom murmuring secrets of forgotten romance and whispered promises. Flowerbeds burst with vibrant hues, their petals unfurling in delicate homage to the night. Pathways meandered through the verdant expanse, inviting exploration beneath the starlit sky.

Towering trees stood sentinel along the perimeter, their branches reaching skyward in silent supplication. The gentle rustle of leaves overhead provided a soothing backdrop to their clandestine journey, yet beneath the tranquil facade, a sense of latent danger lingered in the air.

Amidst the evergreen beauty, the maze beckoned from its corner of the estate, a labyrinth of greenery waiting to ensnare the unwary. Though they had yet to enter its twisting passages, its presence loomed large in the moonlit night, a testament to the intrigue that awaited within—a dangerous game of wits and wills, where every step held the potential for betrayal or triumph.

Sima surveyed their pending battlefield, then turned her gaze to Astarion as she retrieved her bag of holding.

"I do hope you don't mind. I'll be ducking behind that hedge to make a change. Running in a gown is l ess than a fair sport ."

In response, Astarion smiled at Sima and spoke with a taunting murmur. "A woman after my own heart."

He released Sima's hand as she dove behind the hedge to change. Astarion leaned against a tree and crossed his legs, his expression relaxed and confident, seemingly content to allow Sima the chance to prepare for their game.

Shortly thereafter, Sima emerged again, the faint rustle of her attire marking her return. Clad in sleek black leathers that hugged her frame snugly, she appeared with an air of quiet confidence. Her laced boots and gloves matched the dark ensemble, while her long, loose black curls danced gently in the breeze. Astarion recognized the outfit immediately—the one she wore on the night they defeated Cazador during his Ascension. Sima raised an eyebrow, a silent gesture of challenge.

Astarion smiled with a hint of amusement at the outfit. The familiar pang of memory from the ritual was unmistakable, but that did not dim the spark of desire that flared in his eyes at her body. He glanced away and spoke with an air of detachment. "I must admit, darling, that I have missed the sight of you in this outfit."

Sima gave him a sharp smile. "Fitting, don't you think? I find it poetic, considering once I win, you'll be going through another change tonight by my magic, per our terms."

"A fitting bit of theater, in truth. One to show how the tables have turned and how the mighty have fallen, " Astarion quipped with unveiled snark as he approached her and cupped her chin, tilting her head up towards his own. His dark red eyes glinted with a certain cruel amusement, as well as lust.

Then his hungry gaze traced the contours of her body, his fingertips lingering tantalizingly close to her skin, as if savoring the anticipation of touch. With a hesitant caress, his hand followed the curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulder, and the line of her arm until it hovered just shy of her elbow, before gently cupping her cheek.

Sima recoiled from his touch once more, as though acid poured from his fingertip, a palpable tension simmering between them. "Shall we? Use your powers to try to ensnare me as I run through the maze. If I resist and make it through the maze, I win. Understood?"

"As you wish, darling." Astarion's gaze burned with a volatile mixture of malice and desire, undeterred by her evasive maneuvers. His confidence radiated in his stance, an aura of arrogance underscored by the promise of challenge.

"Ready yourself. I shall give you a fair warning; I shall not go easy on you."

Sima met his gaze with unyielding resolve, her eyes reflecting a steely determination. "Five-minute head start?"

"Five minutes is fair, I suppose. A sporting headstart for my bride-to-be. I'd suggest using your time constructively" Astarion quipped, his arrogance and pettiness unwavering in the moment. 

Sima turned without a word, but as she reached the frame entrance of the maze, an unusual sincerity colored her tone. "Do you remember when I told you that you deserved better after 200 years of torment? Do you remember when I told you to do the ritual, thinking that was freedom?"

A hint of tenderness softened Astarion's expression as he listened to her words. "I do remember, yes. What of it?"

Sima's gaze softened, revealing a depth of emotion. "I was wrong."

A flicker of surprise crossed Astarion's features. "Wrong how, darling?"

Sima's eyes seemed to penetrate his soul. "You're not free; you're not even trapped. The ritual destroyed you. So, I was wrong."

Astarion's expression contorted with scorn and frustration, the weight of her words bearing down on him. Despite knowing the truth in her words, he couldn't afford to falter now. Amidst the tempest of emotions, the ember of his resolve burned brighter. "So...how do you solve this paradox of logic, darling? What would make me whole? What would solve the mystery of me, oh wise and powerful witch ?"

"What I promised, once I win, of course. I could even bring you mortality, or just reverse this mess. Like I said, it's been a very long and busy year." Sima adjusted a glove, as if the answer was more than evident, even with an air of nonchalance.

"And when you lose, will you allow me the same opportunity to fix you ?" A glint of defiance flashed in Astarion's eyes as he spoke, his tone laced with determination. The prospect of defeat was one he couldn’t allow in his mind.

"You wanted a true vampire and an equal. The terms are set... Not having second thoughts, are we ?" Sima cooed, the words a reminder of that fateful night, so long ago when he had tried to coerce her into becoming his spawn. Stung by the memory, Sima gritted her teeth.

"Absolutely not. And I have a feeling that neither of us is bluffing, are we?" A wry smile played on Astarion's lips as he watched Sima disappear into the maze's depths.

"I'll see you in 5 minutes."

With a determined stride, Sima silently ventured into the darkness of the hedge maze.

[toomanytookas]

A Fic Menu for Friendship!

My cherished @schnarfer. How wonderful that our little pieces of the internet intersected such that we could meet. It really does feel like I've known you always sometimes...

And how delightful it has been to be a bit of a garçon de cuisine in your kitchen as of late! Inspired by our convo about reclists as pairing menus, for the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange^ I've whipped up a very non-serious one (liberties absolutely taken with the genre) that is a riff on your masterlist and its wonderful contents. 🖤✨

For increased accessibility/given that tumblr can sometimes be weird with images, text of the menu with some formatting preserved is available below the cut! I haven't included links because they're all findable via Al's masterlist; see above!

^Thank you to Cat and Han for creating this event! It's been so lovely to see everyone's posts.

Cafe Schnarfer

Beautiful works handcrafted by head chef Al

Tonight's Menu

-First Courses-

If Wishes Came True (3.87k)

The newest dish on our menu. A perfect tasting platter of some of our chef’s specialties: sparkling love, a character you adore but want to give a firm talking to, and endings that make the angst feel incredibly worth it.

Recommended pairing A healthy slice of cake and a cola flavoured lollipop.

Difficult (12.03k)

The first dish developed for the restaurant! A must for those who enjoy notes of instant chemistry, a bit of self-destruction, a lot of Fleabag energy, and hopeful endings.

Recommended pairing A strawberry milkshake, whipped cream vodka optional* *strongly suggested to make things a little messy, just don’t accidentally give it to the kids

-Entremet-

Purple Haze (5k)

An opportunity to take a brief break from our menu's angsty notes to indulge in a heady, vintage-styled treat. This isn’t your average op-shop find, we’re talking high-end fashion, baby!

Recommended pairing A couple of gin bucks should do the trick. Or just the ginger ale if you’re not in the mood for a buzz!

-Second Courses-

Go Your Own Way (10.87k)

A dish close to the hearts of our whole kitchen. A perfect selection for those who have fallen for a fuckboy and find it therapeutic to recognise your past in a wonderfully raunchy but still angsty story. The finish of this dish manages to incorporate senses of both sadness and hopefulness, making for a cathartic aftertaste.

Recommended pairing A warming Mexican hot chocolate. You'll appreciate how it matches the spice and provides you with some added comfort when things get achy.

Endurance (15.11k)

You will never forget the first time you experience this dish and will always find a way to convince yourself that you aren’t boring for ordering it time after time. A slice of spiciness coupled with a heavy dash of the forbidden add immense depth to a texturally rich feast full of historical flavour.

Recommended pairing A U.S. Army-issued chocolate bar and maybe a prairie oyster for the vibes. But then make sure to treat yourself to some actually  nice-tasting chocolate.

-Dessert-

The Kit Kat Trilogy (16.25k)

The dessert you’ll think about for 10 years and then come back for more. Save room because it is full of delicious angst and delightful romance that you won’t be able to help but consume whole. On a day when you’re low on time, you’ll consider stopping by for just another taste of this memorable sweet treat, we guarantee it.

Recommended pairing A full roast dinner. Even if it’s just for yourself. And maybe a glass of champagne to throw at the wall when things get angsty for a sec.

-Digestifs-

Dial Drunk (7.70k)

Let’s celebrate the end of our meal with lots of hope that emerges from some long-endured darkness.

Recommended pairing The loveliest hot breakfast you could possibly make, full of all your favourites and with plenty of food to go round.

Illicit Affairs (7.47k)

Let’s derail the end our meal with a real hot mess. Maybe you’ll wish you had picked the sweeter option, but, damn, you’ll enjoy the deeply achy ride.

Recommended pairing Wrap yourself in a blanket warm from the dryer for this one. And maybe have some water? The lack of flavour will be a good break from the intensity of it all while still keeping you hydrated.

I love you, Al! 🖤😘

[csainz5]

THE AFTERPARTY

pairing: carlos sainz jr x reader

word count: 0.8k

summary: you and carlos have a rendezvous after his win at the spanish grand prix. who knows what would happen when youre so close to each other? as the drinks keep pouring you may just find out. ( this can be read as a part 2 to “smooth operator: emphasis on the smooth” as well as by itself)

author notes: im overwhelmed by the response to my first ever tumblr post!! i hope you enjoy this as much as the first one, maybe even more so 🫣

The crowd erupted with cheers as he stepped out of his car, a broad smile plastered across his handsome face. As the evening sun cast its golden glow over the racetrack, the celebrations had began.

The after party was a glamorous affair, filled with champagne, laughter, and the pulsating rhythm of music. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the thrill of the race and the presence of the Formula 1 stars. Among the many revelers was you, standing apart although in a simple black slip-on dress with rhinestones on the sleeves. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of Carlos across the room. He looked even more breathtaking under the glow of the red lights, his dark hair tousled and his eyes sparkling with mischief. He moved with a natural grace, drawing the attention of everyone around him.

Gathering your courage, you approach him, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Carlos noticed the shy smile on your face and returned it warmly. "Hola," he greeted, his voice smooth and filled with genuine warmth. "Hi," you reply, voice slightly breathless. "Congratulations on the race, Carlos. You were amazing out there."

Carlos's grin widened, revealing his contentment with the compliment. "Gracias, I'm glad you enjoyed it. It means a lot to hear that from you rather than anyone else here." He raised his glass, offering a toast. "Shall we celebrate together, then?" You nod, your hand trembling slightly as it clinked against Carlos's champagne flute. Carlos's words seemed to flow effortlessly, making you feel as though you were the only two people in the room.

As the night wore on, the conversation became more intimate. Carlos leaned in closer, his voice becoming a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the magnetic pull between the both of you, a simmering tension that made your hearts race. Lost in the moment, you found yourself drawn into Carlos's orbit. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony on the dance floor, the rhythm of the music mirroring the connection you felt. The touch of Carlos's hand on your waist sent sparks of desire coursing through your veins. “Carlos” you whimper, breathless.

Unable to resist your voice, Carlos leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. It was a passionate embrace, filled with longing, as if he had been thinking about doing this to you since the instant he saw you. Your bodies pressed against each other, fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

In that moment, the two of you forgot about the world around you. You were consumed by the intensity of your desire, the electric chemistry that sizzled between you both. Carlos's hands explored your body with a reverence and hunger that left you weak in the knees. His hand pulled you in by the waist as he settled himself against the railing of the balcony. The fiery passion between the two of you was apparent in the way you held each other close, breathing heavily but at the same time, barely breathing. The intensity of his desire seemingly knocked the wind out of you. You place a hand against his chest, pulling apart from his embrace, “Not here Carlos, there’s people around”

For a moment, Carlos finds himself unable to answer, trying his best to be rational as thoughts plague his mind. Thoughts of you, and how you would look as he— Focus Carlos, Focus. he thought to himself, trying to regain his composure. “Yes, of course”, he brings himself to answer. “Perhaps we should go get ourselves a drink by the bar” you suggest, “Yes, perhaps we should.” he replied. His eyes follow you as you lead him through the crowd to the bar. “two white rums, on the rocks” You order. “I hope you don’t mind i ordered on your behalf, i just had a feeling you would enjoy it.” “No worries, i look forward to trying it out.”

The booming sound of the music, the lights and the drinks set a mood in the club, a mood that was eating the two of you inside out. It became harder and harder to remain rational. It all drowned into a blur of stolen kisses and whispered promises in a drunken haze. You and Carlos had found solace in each other's arms, bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. The connection was undeniable, like a flame that burned brighter with every touch.

Carlos held you close, your bodies still humming with desire. His hands brushed your hair out of your eyes, settling along your face, cupping your cheek. He looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and longing. "Mi vida," he murmured, his voice husky, "I don't want this night to end. Will you stay with me?"

[audreyscribes]

CRYPTIDS DEMIGODS [PART 3]

Alright you guys. The polls have answered. You won. It’ll include everyone except the Primordial demigods because they themselves are already cryptids in a sense. Also, I have to split the Cryptids Demigods into more parts because I hit the max tumblr post load TWICE; which I think happened with the first Cryptid Demigods one. I think that’s all of them, so here we go final run of all the cryptids! Anyways, here you go (╯‵□′)╯︵ “Enjoy”  CRYTPIDS PARTS: {PART 1}  \\  {PART 2}  \\ {PART 3}

HESTIA:  They are the most unsuspecting of them all. You see them tend to the fire that has never gone out; burning all the offerings and seemingly never dying down. You see the fire simply graze their fingers and face as they pondered over the fire as you seen them everywhere. You look at them and can’t help see a visage of home. They’re one of the most, least harmful cryptids; a reminder of old wives tales. You take their offering of food and shelter, paying your respects when it's due. However, when you get attacked, you see their placid nature crack as the fire bursts higher. Their hands calloused by maintaining the home is just as strong as a warrior’s grip as they tear into the intruder of the home, before tossing their remains into the fire, feeding it higher. The fire consumes the bone into ash that is fed into the garden, and their flesh is fed to the dogs who guard the home before they burn away the blood and evil from their skin as they step into the fire, rejuvenating them before they step out and offer you milk and honey to chase away the nightmares. 

HERA: The children of Hera are children who have survived. As children of the Queen of the Gods, there is an expectation to be perfect but everyone knows the darkest secrets behind that visage of the Queen of the Gods, the affairs and secrets that are aired out like dirty laundry. The crown that sits on their head sparkles and signals to people they are a child of royalty, but it clings to their head, heavy and tight of the weight it brings; to carry on and keep calm even if they have to walk on the bones and ashes made by Hera towards her husband dared to betray with in her realm. If a king is burdened by the weight of the crown, a Queen is burdened by both the weight of her king’s and her own’s crown digging into her mind and soul. 

PERSEPHONE:  A child of Persephone itself is a cryptid on premise already. A child of Springtime and life whilst also a child of Winter and the dead. Stuck either on the cusp of life & death, or stuck in perpetual cycle of life and death due to the nature that is Persephone, her child bound to the same rules as she is. Their hands easily bring life as they bring death at the slightest death; hands that hold life that are also covered in blood. Neither belonging to one realm or the other.

AMPHITRITE:  Another child of the sea but different then a child of Poseidon. Alluring and beautiful that draws people to them. When you look at them, you know something is wrong but at the same time, you think that they are the physical depictions of the tales of sailors recounting their tales about Mermaids and Sirens. However, beware their wide eyes and voice. Their forms are not always what they seem. The sounds of the waves are better heard far away then up close, for one missteps leads to your death. Not only can they be alluring as a mermaid with the faces of a human, they can also shift into either seals or dolphins as their mother is responsible for them. They shed their seal skin when necessary but can turn back into them easily, their big wide eyes focusing on you as they grip your arms and legs with their sharp teeth, or allure you with their elegant chirpy dolphin form to lower your guard before showing you the unsuspecting brutal side of a dolphin. Once they have you in their grasp, they’ll bring you down to the waters and there you’ll be seen the darkness of the water, it’s beauty gone far in the dark depths where the light cannot reach you and the water no longer sparkles. Then you realise, the tales of Mermaids are told not out of love, but out of fear.

 ERIS:  a child of strife and discord. They can only bring chaos, disorder, cause people to fester. They never know peace in themselves for that goes against them, so they cause and cause, never stopping cause they don’t know peace. They bring and cause force to move things forward, chasing at the heels of people. They bring things out of nothingness, dancing carefully on broken glass. The slightest touch of their actions being the beat of a butterfly, both aware and unaware of that they bring change and they know that is how the world works, and in that they find some semblance of peace. 

HARMONIA: A child of Harmony and Concord. People believe they have a perfect life but oh, they don’t know what is behind that smile that is both forced and natural that says everything is fine and they are happy. They don’t know that that their life is the opposite as they faced twists and turns with their life, paid in full because of the dues of their grandmother’s affair with her husband’s brother who can do nothing to hurt them so he turns to her children to suffer with a pretty necklace that represents as a collar of their doom and debts. Pitied that even Harmonia herself, wedded to a husband, both turns into snake-like dragons before dying and put into Elysium, yet the tragedy lives on; afterall the audience doesn’t know what happens behind the curtains when the actors smiled on the perfect stage for them to see. 

[fillingthescrapbook]

Let's Talk About: Fantasy High Junior Year and Untapped Rage

I wanted this episode to be longer. Much longer. I am invested, damn it!

That said, I don't have many thoughts about this episode. I was on consumer mode, and I just wanted to eat up all the information that Brennan was offering the Bad Kid--

I do, however, want to say that I love how the Intrepid Heroes just cut off Brennan's intro at the top, going into campaign mode for Kristen after The Last Stand. Really taking a page off the Battle of the Brands.

Secondly, I want to express my shock for Bobby Dawn being the guy Sandra Lynn had an affair with. His affair, but she was complicit. Also: holy shit.

Eugenia Shadow is so fucking cool. And Fabian burning his own baby clothes on the lawn of Seacaster Manor is hilarious.

There are still a bunch of stuff from the season-long plot that I wish we could find out. I know most of y'all here on Tumblr, and probably on Reddit and the Discord too, have figured stuff out. But I'm still percolating. I'm still stewing. I need more information.

Lastly, I just want to say: shout out to Murph.

"You gotta honor the cock."

[banavalope]

Hello, I'm a Homestuck and Good Omens fan and just saw your post about coffee. I came to the Homestuck fandom way late, though, and don't know what the coffee theory was. I was wondering if you'd be willing to share that story from the trenches if it's not too traumatic :)

I'll preface by saying, this all happened near about the time I began to step away from Homestuck, as this was late 2011 to early 2012. My recollection could very well be missing some juicier deets, because I always managed to avoid the worst of it. In all I had a pretty benign time floating about the Homestuck fandom, I'll say that. My knowledge is as a fly's.

If you want the short version: once upon a time, the Homestuck fandom was so stupid it had discourse over the way coffee was drawn in a single panel, because the stylistic choice used to show the way cheap potted coffee has that oil slick sheen on the top Really got the gamerz thinking Gamzee was putting troll blood in the coffee.

The long version is this: this Act was annoying. All the Acts had been annoying, there'd been rather more than six of them so far. The fandom's toxicity was at its most potent, and the main fandom exodus hadn't happened yet. But the stylistic choice brewing on page 4702 of A6I2 suggested a discourse was on the horizon, and it was the size of planet fucking Jupiter.

To understand the affairs of 2011/12 Homestucks, a few things are important to mention: first, nobody enjoyed Act 6. Ask anyone from the tumblr era First Wave, we all agreed that Cascade would have been a better place to start wrapping up the comic as a whole. When Act 6 opened introducing the alpha kids, a whole new plot derivative, and we all realized we'd have to go through the same slog again, that the story wasn't over, the collective exhaustion was palpable. SWATHS left unhappy; worse yet (for some), the alpha kids brought us away from the game of SBURB and the over-aching plot, to instead place our focus on their interpersonal relationships. It was a bad time to take your audience away from a well crafted climax.

Reading it now as a completed work makes this not so bad, because the book is wrote. You can consume it as a finished piece and clearly interpret a through line for yourself, start to finish. Skip it even, if you want. When you've no idea at what time the next update will come, while all the pieces remain necessary to tell the story, any pacing is bad pacing.

Second, while Homestucks are known for many things - all of them cringe - the one that goes overlooked most, in spite of the ripple effect we still feel from it today in every corner, is the sheer amount of over analyzing done to the story itself. Every panel, every inch of every pixel, was a part of a puzzle we all collectively made up. Theorizing was an integral part to the Update Culture era of Homestuck's fandom, that we Figure Out the Story, you had to be the one who predicted what came next. Impressive how none of us came up with some kind of fandom Nobel Peace Prize, for how much we lauded it as a lifetime achievement.

I'll give you, Homestuck does have a very rich narrative. Much of it, I'll favor, is even intentional. It made worldbuilding choices captivating enough to get people painting themselves grey, for fun, so surely it had a few right ideas in some places. And there's nothing wrong about analyzing your media, picking apart its references to tie together a background story, even if it's just one you make up based on how you experienced reading it. That's kind of the whole point of consuming art. It's to be discussed, share your personal conclusions on. Theory is the breath of creativity.

It's the whole part about wanting to be right, where Homestucks as a collective force wanted to start eating each other alive on the spot. We were fucking OBNOXIOUS with theory posting. I'll be honest with you, I really ate that kind of thing up, and even I was getting annoyed. People were beginning to stretch, likely to cope with becoming bored.

Finally, the sober Gamzee controversy. This came about a while before coffeegate, but the effect the inciting update had on Homestucks is comparable to a haunting. It was fucking chernobyl, and a bad day to be a nuclear scientist because now it was your problem. Vriska fans - equally insufferable, as we all were by some respect[1] - and Gamzee fans fought with each other VEHEMENTLY, just to see whos gang was better. Keep that in the background of your mind as the theme music to what's playing. Everyone was anxiously wondering what had happened to Gamzee, because for the last several some-odd panels, we'd lost the boy. He was full of murderous intent, we were down to precious few characters on the meteor left, and we'd lost the boy.

So here we are. It's 2011. We're standing now at the end of the world, we've lost the boy for several panels, and finally the plot is trying to move along. We're all tired, and irritated, and divorced, doing this song and dance one more time but god willing the LAST TIME, when a joke about the look of shitty potted coffee gets made.

And some harbinger of the fucking apocalypse takes to tumblr dot com, drafting up a post about how Gamzee - living in the meteor walls - is putting troll blood into the coffee. Because, otherwise, how is Kanaya as a rainbow drinker doing so fine? Dave called the taste metallic, like blood. Something something long forgotten theories about trolls blood here something something. People would chime in to say "that's just how coffee looks", somehow it dissolved into actual discourse of people violently discussing back and forth how it could ONLY BE BLOOD, because coffee drawn in a prior panel UPDATES AGO didn't have the film on top, only now AFTER SOBER GAMZEE. Etcetera. It was just the worst case of reading too hard into something that you done ever did see.

Shortly following this, many people who were already growing exhausted with Homestuck's narrative direction at this point decided to take this coffee theory as their sign the flood was coming and to board the ark or learn how to swim. Anyone who learned to swim subsequently left during the exodus of 2015.

Again, my memory is pretty hazy. Thanks to Requiem Cafe, surprisingly difficult to google these days. Certainly another old still following me will have something more to add that I'm forgetting, as your handy dandy unreliable narrator.

[1] Said the Eridan fan.

[whencyclopedia]

Søren Kierkegaard

Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) was a Danish philosopher and is considered to be the first existentialist, influencing such notable philosophers as Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980) and Martin Heidegger (1889-1976). His works are a reflection of alienation, angst, and absurdity, and include Either/Or (1843), Fear and Trembling (1843), and The Concept of Anxiety (1844).

He was embraced by his fellow existentialists for his belief in the importance of the individual against an apathetic, hostile society. However, unlike other existentialists, his body of philosophical works has a strong theological vein. Denise Despeyroux, in her book The Philosophers, wrote that Søren's life was filled with painful experiences, which colored his works – works that displayed "great dramatic and poetic power. They are filled with parables, aphorisms, fictitious letters and diaries as well pseudonymous and fictitious characters" (110). She added that his struggles with religious questions served as a "potent stimulus" for other writers and thinkers of his generation.

Birth & Education

Søren Kierkegaard was born on 5 May 1813 in Copenhagen, Denmark, to an affluent family as the youngest of seven children. His father, Michael Kierkegaard, was a successful businessman, while his mother, Ane Sørensdatter Lund, had been the one-time maid of Michael's first wife. Søren claimed his father was the most influential figure in his life. Unfortunately, he suffered terribly from anxiety and inner turmoil, and this Søren 'inherited' from his father. Michael was deeply religious, a member of a pietistic form of Lutheranism, and was convinced that because of his past sins – he had once cursed God – none of his children would live past the age of 33, the age of Jesus Christ when he was crucified. Coincidentally, five of Søren's brothers and sisters, as well as his mother Ane, would die before Søren turned 21. Only Søren and his brother Peter survived. To Michael, it was a sign of divine retribution. According to Jeremy Stangroom in his The Great Philosophers, Søren maintained that his childhood was "insane" and "he had come into the world as the result of a crime" (100). Regrettably for Søren, his father passed on his "pessimistic and gloomy religious outlook to his son" (ibid).

Despite a chaotic childhood, his education was "surprisingly normal," attending a distinguished private school – the Borgedydskolen – where he was considered an outsider, "lonely, aloof, and intellectually the superior to his classmates" (ibid). Hoping to become a pastor as his father had suggested, at the age of 17, he entered the University of Copenhagen, where he studied theology, philosophy, and literature. In 1838, while he was attending university, his father died, leaving him with a large inheritance. After graduating in 1840, he began the life of an independent thinker and writer, but it would be a life consumed by inner torment and angst, evident throughout his writings.

Shortly after graduating, he made the mistake of getting engaged to Regine Olson, ten years his junior. He regretted the engagement the moment it was made. One year later, in 1841, he broke off the engagement, believing that his melancholic temperament made him unsuitable for marriage and he considered her to be intellectually incompatible. The affair with Regine had a lasting effect on Søren and would appear in both his journals and other works. Free from an unwanted engagement and with a large inheritance, he was free to begin a career as a writer. Oddly, throughout his life, he only left Copenhagen three times, spending most of his free time walking the streets of the city or attending the theater.

Continue reading...

[noonblight]

I have sent, yet ANOTHER support ticket to Tumblr about the reporting strobing autoplay ads not working and not even removing the relevant ads from the site or even my dashboard.

Heavily considering putting in a formal complaint with the appstore or my country’s consumer affairs department over this, because I keep getting days-long migraines from this and people I know have had to stop using the site entirely. Yet suspiciously, I’m getting more and more ‘buy ad-free’ notifications whenever I open the app.

Accessibility shouldn’t be a paywalled fucking feature on your website, that’s illegal and goes against the disability discrimination act. I want to, as a disabled person, be able to socialise online without having to pay for my goddamn health and safety.

Watch them delete my blog for talking up about this lmao 🤭

[youstopmyheartfrom50feets]

What if you did a Remus ending and a James ending?👀

Because I don’t think I can choose! I already regret voting for Remus but I know that I would’ve also regretted voting for James.

It’s impossible to decide between the two😭

Ikrrr!!! It is difficult to choose😭😭

Anyways so, the votes have chosen Remus and I personally don't like the second chance trope but since you're the first person to request me a fic on Tumblr, I had to do it. So this one is for you 🫶🫶

Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have (alternative ending)

Part 1: The Other Women

Part 2: Violets for Roses

A/n: I am a year late💀💀 I'm sorry, I had been really busy with my school work and literally had no time to write but now I am on a vacation and I can continue writing 😋

Angst/Fluff.

Trigger warnings:- Cheating/infidelity, slight swearing, second chances

3rd Person POV

The sunrays coming through the window were pricking her eyes. She tried covering them with the pillow but that didn't help with the pain in her eyes.

Heaving a deep sigh, she got up from the bed. That's when she noticed that James was still laying beside her. Before her lips could curve up in a smile, the memories of last night came flooding back to her.

"Lily! Shit! I'm close!"

Those words kept on echoing in her ears. She went inside the bathroom to freshen up but stopped on her tracks when she saw her reflection in the full body mirror at the corner of her room.

Just a few hours ago she looked at a perfect woman with a perfect body, perfect hair and perfect makeup. All fancied-up for her husband.

But now, now she looks at a disheveled face with dark circles under her eyes which were intensified with the smudged mascara. Her eyes were small and puffy from the tears that her pillow absorbed. The white of her eyes still had strands of red in them. Her face was empty of any emotions, the glow that she once had, was gone. She looked exhausted as if she hasn't been able to sleep for centuries.

She let out a silent sigh, shaking her head she went in the bathroom to take a shower. The water felt like bullets entering her body but it didn't hurt. She was desperately trying to wash away the memories of last night but she couldn't. She wanted to crawl back into her bubble but she couldn't. She blamed herself and that damn bubble for the position she is in today.

Only if she had not created the bubble back then, she would've noticed the stolen glances, her husband and her twin shared during the family gatherings.

She cursed her self for being so blind, for falling in love with the man who was in love with her sister.

After half an hour later, she came out of the bathroom, dried herself, put on some light makeup and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt pity for the women in the mirror.

She felt the tears prick her eyes but she somehow controlled them and walked downstairs towards the kitchen.

It was a Sunday morning and she was pretty sure James wouldn't wake up anytime soon because of the amount of liquor he had consumed yesterday, so she didn't bother to prepare a breakfast.

She prepared herself a bowl of cereal and started munching on them.

There were whirlpool of emotions wrecking havoc in her brain. She had tried her best to ignore all the concerned voices of her well wishers, telling her about James' infedeility.

She could clearly hear Remus warning her about the possible affair. At the time she didn't pay any attention to his words and now those very words were pricking her throat making their way down to her heart.

Shaking her head and wiping a single tear that sprung out of her eye, she started doing the dishes when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn't expect James to wakeup so quickly.

He was in a pair of new boxers, his hair was disheveled and he looked like he came back from death.

"Morning, what's for breakfast?" James asked in a groggy morning voice.

"What do you want, haven't made anything yet."

"Uh, I'll have pancakes and Sirius would probably have bacons and eggs." James let her know his preference.

"Sirius?" She asked him a bit confused.

"Yeah, it's Sunday love, he always has his breakfast with us on Sundays." James reminded her.

She just nodded at him and started preparing the breakfast demanded. She couldn't believe how laid-back he was acting as if he wasn't going behind his wife's back with her sister. How easily he called her 'love' as if he didn't whisper the wrong name last night.

She felt animated, machine-like, controlled by a master. A machine which had no feelings or opinions of her own. Any other woman would confront her husband the very first thing in the morning but she felt like she didn't have the right to do so, the right to question James.

It was physically sickening to think about how many times had he come home after sleeping with her and pretended as if nothing had happen, how many times he must have slept with her after sleeping with her own sister.

She couldn't handle it anymore. The emotions were too overwhelming. She could feel the pressure slowly building in her chest. It felt like she would explode if she didn't confront James. She knew there would be consequences, James didn't do well with confrontations but she was ready to risk it.

She cursed her self for being so blind, for falling in love with the man who was in love with her sister.

After half an hour later, she came out of the bathroom, dried herself, put on some light makeup and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt pity for the women in the mirror.

She felt the tears prick her eyes but she somehow controlled them and walked downstairs towards the kitchen.

It was a Sunday morning and she was pretty sure James wouldn't wake up anytime soon because of the amount of liquor he had consumed yesterday, so she didn't bother to prepare a breakfast.

She prepared herself a bowl of cereal and started munching on them.

There were whirlpool of emotions wrecking havoc in her brain. She had tried her best to ignore all the concerned voices of her well wishers, telling her about James' infedeility.

She could clearly hear Remus warning her about the possible affair. At the time she didn't pay any attention to his words and now those very words were pricking her throat making their way down to her heart.

Shaking her head and wiping a single tear that sprung out of her eye, she started doing the dishes when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn't expect James to wakeup so quickly.

He was in a pair of new boxers, his hair was disheveled and he looked like he came back from death.

"Morning, what's for breakfast?" James asked in a groggy morning voice.

"What do you want, haven't made anything yet."

"Uh, I'll have pancakes and Sirius would probably have bacons and eggs." James let her know his preference.

"Sirius?" She asked him a bit confused.

"Yeah, it's Sunday love, he always has his breakfast with us on Sundays." James reminded her.

She just nodded at him and started preparing the breakfast demanded. She couldn't believe how laid-back he was acting as if he wasn't going behind his wife's back with her sister. How easily he called her 'love' as if he didn't whisper the wrong name last night.

She felt animated, machine-like, controlled by a master. A machine which had no feelings or opinions of her own. Any other woman would confront her husband the very first thing in the morning but she felt like she didn't have the right to do so, the right to question James.

It was physically sickening to think about how many times had he come home after sleeping with her and pretended as if nothing had happen, how many times he must have slept with her after sleeping with her own sister.

She couldn't handle it anymore. The emotions were too overwhelming. She could feel the pressure slowly building in her chest. It felt like she would explode if she didn't confront James. She knew there would be consequences, James didn't do well with confrontations but she was ready to risk it.

She went up to James and looked him dead in the eye.

"James?"

"Yes Y/n/n"

"How long has it been going on for?" She questioned him without missing a beat.

"What's going on?" James genuinely looked confused.

"Since when have you been going behind my back with Lily?"

There was a long silence between the two of them. James looked shocked, confused and a little ashamed but in a fraction of seconds the shame in his eyes turned into anger but the anger fizzed out moments later as of something dawned on him. He had hesitation in his eyes.

"Who is filling your ears against me?" James asked in a low voice, coming dangerously close to her, his demeanor seemingly intimidating.

This made her flinch at first but she quickly gained her composure and calmly replied,

"You took her name in bed last night."

This made all his anger and intimidation fade and guilt and shame took its place instead.

"Nobody provoked me against you James, in fact I chose to ignore all the people who were concerned about me, who thought you were being unfaithful to me. I chose to ignore all those stolen glances, little ambiguous smiles, those indirect flirtious comments you passed. I chose to ignore all of it until I could not. How would you feel if I had taken another man's name in OUR bed on OUR wedding anniversary." She stated in a calm but stern voice.

"The fact is James, unlike for you, you weren't a replacement, you were everything, you were my world. Any sane person would want to hold on to the very last shred of their world. That's what I did until last night, when my entire meaning of existence came down shattering. James, I-I don't know what to do ahead of now, but it is for sure that I won't let you break my heart again.

Letting her stance be known, she swiftly headed for upstairs. James tried to stop her and explain her his side but she wasn't ready for more bulshit.

"Y/N, please listen to me, I-"

"No James, I don't wanna hear anything. There's nothing you can say that'll convince me to be back to normal. You fucked up James, now own upto it and face the consequences."

She couldn't look at James because she knew the moment she looked into his innocent eyes, she'll melt and she couldn't afford doing that.

She locked herself in her bedroom and sat on the floor, leaning against the door. She felt as if her insides were lit on fire. She knew she was going to lose James after this, she might even lose her family, she might lose her whole life.

The thought brought out a sob out of her throat and the tears which flowed yesterday, came rushing back in her eyes, again to fall into mindless oblivion.

This time she wasn't silent, her cries could be clearly heard, her pain could be felt in the surroundings.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door. Before she could ask the person to go away, she heard a known voice call her name.

"Y/n/n, please open the door." Sirius asked in the most soothing voice.

"Go away Sirius, not in a mood to talk." She said in a dejected voice.

"Y/n James is ready for any decision that you make, he'll support you if you want stay and also, if you want to leave but atleast hear him out, there are few things he'd like to make clear."

Sirius's words erupted a volcano inside of her, the anger, the frustration, all the betrayal she had felt for the past 5 years just came rushing down her throat, like clouds filled with rain, eager to pour down.

She angrily opend the door almost breaking it with sheer physical force. She could see the horrified look on Sirius and James's faces but it didn't affect her one bit.

She looked straight into Sirius's eyes and started screaming at him.

"YOU KNEW HE WON'T BE FAITHFUL, YOU KNEW HE WASN'T OVER HER AND YET, YET YOU LET HIM GET MARRIED TO ME! WHY! ONLY TO HAVE MY LIFE RUINED! ONLY FOR MY HUSBAND TO CHEAT ON ME WITH SISTER!

All of this was happening so quickly, she wasn't able to get hold of her emotions. One moment she wanted to disappear and the other she wanted to demand explanations for all her miseries.

She looked at both of them and addressed James,

"Since when has this been going on? Was it before the wedding or after it? Did you fuck her on our wedding day? Oh, did you sleep with her on our first night?"

They both remained quiet, looking at their feet, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

At this point, She was shaking with anger. She could feel her pulse in her head, her heart felt as if someone has lit it on fire. She was desperate for their explanation and then letting them know her decision. But, she didn't know what the decision was. Where would she go, what would she do, how would she survive in this world without friends or family.

"Come on! Give me a damn explanation!" She demanded.

"Y/n I know now is not the moment to ask you to calm down but can we atleast discuss this in the living room, please." Sirius pleaded with a nervous voice.

She didn't say anything, just shot them a look and went towards the living room. Sirius and James followed her and took their seats on the sofas opposite to y/n.

There was a long moment of silence between the three which was then broken by James when he met her questioning eyes.

"I am done hiding things from you y/n and not because you caught me red-handed but because it was weighing my conscience. Y/n, the truth is that yes, I first started dating you in order to make Lily jealous but as time went on, I realized you were the best alternative to Lily I could find." James paused, shame clear in his eyes.

Those words felt like daggers in her chest. These thoughts have occurred to her before, people have repeated those exact words to her but hearing them from James had made it all too real.

"But after our wedding I decided to leave Lily behind and give you a chance.............give us a chance. Believe it or not y/n/n, I did fall in love with you, it only took me a few weeks to realize it. The moment I saw you as an individual, a person on your own and not as a different version of Lily, I knew i would be hopelessly in love with you-"

"If that was the case why did you act so cold against me?" She cut James before he could stop speaking.

"Why would you only talk to me when needed, why won't you let me touch you when we'd be physical, why would you sleep in a different room on a different bed?" She questioned with sorrow and agony in her voice.

Any women would feel the same if she would hear her husband confessing his love for her when he had taken her sister's name in bed the night before. She felt cheated, deceived, robbed even. Had Lily not existed, this man who had the ability to love in such pure form would be all hers.

"That is because I wanted to come clean to you some day and then start afresh, until then I didn't want us to live like a normal couple because that would've been deceiving you."

"You have deceived me James! You've cheated on me with my bloody sister!" She exclaimed furiously.

"I agree I have but it wasn't the case until a few months ago, we've been sleeping together for only the past few months." James explained.

"Bulshit! Utter, pure bulshit!" She sneered at James.

"Everyone saw how you and her used to flirt at any given time you both were in the same room."

"Yes I agree but that was it, just flirting. I started sleeping with her only a few months ago. I'm telling the truth." James explained himself.

"When Lily showed up at my office and asked me to hook up with her, I refused at first but she persisted and I had a moment of weakness and I caved in." James confessed seemingly ashamed of his actions.

She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep her dinner inside her, she felt extremely nauseous and head spun as if she had just used a portkey.

"I wanted to end it Y/N, trust me, that's why I asked Lily to come meet me at bar. We had a ugly fight and I drank a little too much in frustration. I wanted to come clean to you, tell you everything and hopefully start everything from the beginning. But last night didn't go as planned." James elucidated the events of last night.

She felt her mouth drying up but gathered herself and asked the dreadful question.

"One last question, did you sleep with her last night before coming home?"

She questioned, her heartbeats hammering in her ears.

"No. I didn't, I took her name because she was the last person I saw before I got drunk and also that...... that I had developed a h-habit of taking her name."

James hesitantly whispered his answer.

She could feel the ball of pain growing in her throat, she knew the tears would start filling her eyes any second now, she wanted to run out of the mansion and never look back and just keep running until her feet don't work anymore.

"I know that forgiving me would seem like a mammoth task but I can't do anything but apologize to you. I am so sorry, I truly do love you Y/n. Give me a chance and I will prove that to you."

James apologized to her.

"I can't James........ I have to go away from you." She let out a hollow whisper.

"I am really sorry Y/n, I promise you I'll be a better husband, a better person. Please don't leave me." James begged her.

The rawness in his voice rendered her speechless. How cursed she was to fall in love with someone who hurt her so terribly. She wanted to advocate her stance but Sirius did it for her instead, much to her relief.

"James mate, I think you should give her some time, let her recollect herself. She needs space, she's not in the right headspace to make the correct the correct decision."

"But I-I......" James tried to counter Sirius's point but found himself unable to do so.

"Fine. Y/n, I'll give you the space you need, as long as you want." James stated with an earnest expression.

She was having a hard time keeping herself composed, she wanted to sob, cry, scream, collapse but all she did was nod her head.

"You can stay at my place for as long as you want." Sirius offered.

Had it been some other time, she would've protested and insisted upon finding her own place but she was too tired to open her mouth and form words so she agreed with a nod of her head.

She went upstairs to her bedroom where summoned a packed suitcase with her essentials in it with a flick of her wand and and went down towards the door where Sirius and James where talking whilst waiting for her.

"You ready?" Sirius asked.

"Hm." She replied with a hum.

She apperated to Sirius's house with a crack. The moment Sirius's living room came into her line of vision, she collapsed on her knees and started wailing with gut-wrenching sobs.

Sirius sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her to give her some kind of comfort. She cling to Sirius's arm and mourned her life.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Y/N's heartache slowly began to heal. Living with Sirius provided her with the support she needed, but the wound was still fresh, and the memories lingered. She found solace in the routine, the quiet moments of reflection, and the occasional outbursts of tears that Sirius patiently endured.

It had been a month and the wounds had started to close if not healed. She tried to not think about the incident and the confrontation but James was deeply embedded in her life, her memories, her soul. She could often feel the sorrow in her magic as she cast normal household spells. She had insisted on moving out but Sirius had convinced her to stay with him for a few more months. He had also convinced her to get a job just to keep her busy.

She had never thought of having to work as she always imagined herself to be James's housewife, so it took her while to figure out a job that fit her intrests. She settled for a job as salesperson and receptionist at the a florist shop at downtown London, not far from Sirius's studio apartment.

It was March now. It had been 2 months since the incident. She was getting acquainted with her life now and she liked it. It was one of those evenings where she had returned tired from a busy Spring day at the shop when she heard the enchanted door ring the familiar magical ring it made when it detected magic at the threshold. Expecting it to be Sirius, she opened the door, only to be left with her jaws dropped at the floor.

It was Lily.

She was at loss of words. It felt like someone was stabbing her heart with a dagger. But there was something odd about Lily, something out of character.

She looked frail.Her face was pale, eyes red from crying, and she looked genuinely remorseful.

"Hi." Lily broke the silence.

"What do you want?" She couldn't help but frown at her audacity.

"I....I want to talk." Lily replied hesitantly.

"But I don't." She answered bluntly and almost close the door on her face.

"Y/n please! Please, just let me apologize and explain myself. I know what I have done is horrible but please just hear me out once. Then, if you want I'll never show you my face ever again." Lily begged like a little child.

She didn't want to hear her out or listen to some sloppy explanation like "I was not in my senses, or I didn't know what I was doing" but her love of her sister seemed to contradict her mind. It had always been her weakness. Her loved ones had always been her weakness and surely they were using it against her quite well.

She couldn't help herself so she sighed, though initially hesitant, finally agreed to let her sister in the living room.

They sat on the counch, facing each other.

"So, start explaining yourself." She broke the silence sternly.

She saw Lily taking a deep breath and she readied herself to not fall for her hollow explanation and playing the victim card, like all the cheaters.

"Y/N, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," Lily began, her voice trembling.

"But I need you to know that I am truly sorry. I won't say that I didn't know what I was doing because I did. It was deliberate. I did this because I was jealous, because I couldn’t stand the thought of you having something that I used to have. It was selfish and wrong.

"When James asked me to meet him on your anniversary, I was mad at him. I thought everything was going good so why would he want to end it. I didn't understand that until I visited James until a few days after and I saw how miserable he was. He told me everything and also showed me the memories of consequences he faced the morning after in a pensieve." Lily took a long shuddering breath.

"I saw how miserable you were, how hurt you were. I don't know why, I thought you were not much attached to James but I could see the pain and love for him in your eyes and it haunted me. I could live with myself. I realised my fault and it took a while to gather the courage but here I am. I am sorry y/n/n. I-I don't know how I can redeem myself but I am ashamed of my acts. Lily apologized.

She listened, her expression unreadable. She felt a mixture of anger and sadness but also a tinge of understanding. Her apology somehow felt real, as if she really meant it. Maybe she did. Only time will tell.

"Lily, I appreciate your honesty. It’s going to take time, but I do forgive you. We’re family, and I don’t want to lose you. But things can’t go back to the way they were overnight."

Lily nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"I understand. Thank you for giving me a chance. And please, think about forgiving James too. He’s been a mess without you."

She sighed, looking down at her hands. She felt a pang in hee chest hearing his name.

"I need more time for that, Lily. I’m not ready yet." Her reply was a mere whisper.

" I understand. I'm sorry to have you put in this position. Know that I will a accept any punishment you intend to give me."

Lily assured her.

"No Lily, I don't want to punish you. Give me some time. Time will heal everything."

"I hope so." Lily crossed her fingers.

She just gave her a pained smile.

"Hope is a dangerous thing."

Six months had drifted by like petals on the wind, and she was gradually finding her way back to herself. With the money she had saved over the years, she purchased the quaint florist shop where she had once merely worked, transforming it into a blooming sanctuary of her own creation. Her days were now graced by the delicate fragrance of flowers and the quiet satisfaction of nurturing something beautiful. In her free moments, she reveled in the companionship of Remus and Sirius, who had found love in each other. Life was beginning to resemble a canvas painted with hues of peace and contentment, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt truly at home in her own skin.

Autumn had sneaked up in the country like a robber in the dark of midnight. Spring and Summer had gone in a haze but now was her time to relax. Autumn was an off season so the shop remained mostly empty. She asked her helper to take over the desk and went to the coffee shop across the street.

The crisp air was a welcome change, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and the promise of a quieter pace.

Entering the cozy café, she greeted the familiar barista with a warm smile and ordered her favorite seasonal brew. She chose a corner seat by the window, where she could watch the world outside transform into a tapestry of gold and crimson. As she sipped her coffee, she let her mind wander, appreciating the stillness of the moment. The café buzzed softly with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups, but she felt cocooned in her own peaceful bubble.

Glancing around, her eyes fell on a familiar figure at the far end of the room. James was there, looking more worn and haggard than she remembered. He hadn’t noticed her yet, absorbed in his thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat, torn between the hurt of the past and the faint stirrings of old affections. She took a deep breath, unsure if she was ready for this encounter, but also recognizing that perhaps this was the universe’s way of nudging her towards closure.

She watched James for a moment, her mind racing. Finally, she took a deep breath and approached his table.

"James," she said softly.

James looked up, startled. "Y/n?" He blinked, as if unsure whether she was real. "I didn't expect to see you here."

She nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. "I didn't expect to see you either. How have you been?"

James sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Not great, honestly. I've missed you."

She took a seat across from him, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. "I've been... healing. It's been a tough journey, but I'm getting there."

"I can see that," he said, his eyes filled with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am."

She nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know, James. And I've been trying to move on. I even bought the florist shop where I used to work."

His face lit up for a moment. "That's wonderful. You've always loved flowers."

"Yes," she smiled faintly. "It's been a dream come true. And Remus and Sirius have been a great support. They're dating now, you know."

James chuckled softly. "I figured something was going on between them. I'm glad you have them."

She looked at him, searching for the right words. "James, I don't know what the future holds, but I think it's important we both find our own paths. Maybe one day, we can start anew, but for now, I need to focus on myself."

"I understand," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I just hope that one day, you'll find it in your heart to give us another chance."

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "We'll see. For now, take care of yourself."

James nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You too, Y/n."

With that, she stood up and walked back to her table by the window, feeling a sense of closure wash over her. It wasn't a perfect ending, but it was a start. And in the quiet of the autumn afternoon, she found a small measure of peace.

As she settled back into her seat, she watched James leave the café, his shoulders hunched slightly as if carrying the weight of the world. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and relief.

Later that evening, she closed the shop, the bells on the door jingling softly as she locked up. The air was crisp, and the streets were illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and started walking towards Remus and Sirius's apartment.

When she arrived, Sirius opened the door with a broad grin. "Hey, there you are! We were just about to start a movie. Come on in."

Remus greeted her with a warm smile from the kitchen. "Hi, Y/n. Want some tea? We just made a fresh pot."

"Tea sounds perfect," she replied, hanging up her coat and joining them in the living room.

As the three of them settled in, with Remus handing her a steaming mug of tea, Sirius started the movie. She felt a sense of comfort in their presence, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her journey.

Halfway through the movie, she couldn't help but reflect on her encounter with James earlier. She shared her thoughts with Remus and Sirius, their supportive presence helping her process her feelings.

"You did the right thing," Remus said gently. "Healing takes time, and it's important to focus on yourself."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "And remember, we're here for you, no matter what."

She smiled, feeling grateful for their unwavering support. "Thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

As the movie continued, she leaned back, sipping her tea and letting the warmth of their friendship envelop her. The future was still uncertain, but for now, she felt content knowing she had the strength to face whatever came her way.

The next morning, she opened her shop with a renewed sense of purpose. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, and she took a moment to appreciate the beauty around her. Each day was a step forward, a chance to rebuild her life and rediscover herself.

As the days turned into weeks, she found joy in the little things—arranging bouquets, chatting with customers, and spending time with Remus and Sirius. The wounds of the past were healing, slowly but surely, and she began to see the world in a new light.

One afternoon, while arranging a particularly beautiful bouquet of autumn flowers, she heard the door chime. She looked up and saw James standing there, holding a single red rose.

"Hi, Y/n," he said softly. "I was hoping we could talk."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, let's talk."

They sat down at a small table near the window, the sunlight casting a warm glow over them. James took a deep breath, his eyes earnest and filled with sincerity.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began. "I know I hurt you deeply, and I don't expect you to forget that. But I want to try and make things right. I want to show you that I can be the man you deserve."

She looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. "James, it's not going to be easy. Trust needs to be rebuilt, and it will take time."

"I understand," he replied, his voice steady. "I'm willing to put in the effort, to prove to you that I've changed. But I also respect your need for space and time to heal."

She nodded, appreciating his honesty. "We'll take it one step at a time, James. I'm not making any promises, but I'm willing to see where this goes."

A small smile appeared on his face, hope flickering in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/n. That's all I can ask for."

As they continued to talk, she felt a glimmer of possibility. The path ahead was uncertain, but she was willing to take the first steps towards healing and perhaps, one day, finding a way back to each other.

With the changing seasons, she found strength in herself and in the support of those who cared for her. And as the leaves fell and the air grew colder, she knew that no matter what happened, she had the resilience to face whatever came her way.

It had been a week since James had visited her shop and they had been exchanging casual owls with each other over the week but James wanted to do something more. He planned something special.

James had spent the entire morning nervously rehearsing his plan. He knew he had to do something special, something that would make her smile and show her just how much he cared. He had roped in Sirius and Remus for help, and they had set the stage for what he hoped would be an unforgettable moment.

As she walked into the florist shop, she was greeted by an unusual sight. The usually tidy counter was now adorned with a massive bouquet of her favorite flowers, arranged in the shape of a heart. A small note was tucked into the center, and she picked it up, her curiosity piqued.

"Follow the petals," it read.

With a bemused smile, she noticed a trail of rose petals leading out the door. She followed them, stepping into the crisp autumn air. The petals led her across the street and into the park, where she saw James standing beneath a large oak tree, looking a little nervous but determined.

He was holding a sign that read, "Will you go out on a date with me?" in big, bold letters. But that wasn't all. As soon as she stepped closer, James flipped the sign to reveal the back, which was filled with smaller, hand-written notes, each one detailing a different reason why he wanted to take her out.

"Because you make me laugh."

"Because I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about flowers."

"Because I want to show you how much I care."

The list went on, and with each reason, her heart melted a little more.

James took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding out a single red rose. "Y/n, I know I've made mistakes, and I know I've hurt you. But I want to make it right. I want to spend time with you, show you how much you mean to me. Will you give me the honor of taking you out on a date?"

She looked at the rose, then at James, who was gazing at her with hopeful eyes. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer cheesiness of it all, but it was sweet, and it was sincere.

"Okay, James," she said, taking the rose from his hand. "I'd love to go out on a date with you."

James's face lit up with a smile so bright it could have rivaled the sun. He pulled out a small notepad from his pocket, where he had scribbled down his plans for the day.

"I have everything planned out," he said excitedly. "First, we'll have a picnic in the park. I made all your favorite foods. Then, we'll visit that little bookshop you love, and later, we can go to the cinema to watch that movie you've been wanting to see."

She couldn’t stop smiling. "You really went all out, didn’t you?"

"I wanted it to be perfect," James admitted. "You deserve nothing less."

She felt her heart swell with affection. "Then let's get started."

They spent the day together, enjoying each other's company and laughing more than they had in months. As the sun began to set, they found themselves back in the park, lying on a blanket and watching the stars appear in the twilight sky.

James turned to her, his expression soft and earnest. "Thank you for giving me this chance, Y/n. Today has been amazing."

"It really has," she agreed, squeezing his hand. "And thank you for going through all this trouble. It means a lot to me."

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Anything for you. Always."

And as they lay there under the stars, she realized that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other after all.

Months had stretched between them like a cold, unyielding winter, a time marked by the echoes of old promises shattered by James’s betrayal. The hurt had been a bitter wound, one that seemed to grow deeper with each passing day of their separation. Yet through that distance, James had worked tirelessly to mend what he had broken, proving himself not with grand gestures, but through the quiet, steadfast presence that had slowly healed her wounded heart.

Now, in Sirius’s apartment, the air was filled with the warmth of a love renewed. The space was softly illuminated by the gentle flicker of the TV, its light casting a golden hue on the room’s familiar contours. The movie played, a backdrop to their shared silence, a silence that spoke volumes of the journey they had traversed together.

James and her were on the same couch, their bodies close but not touching, as if each was testing the waters of trust and closeness once more. Their fingers brushed tentatively, a gesture that had once been routine but now carried the weight of their shared past and the promise of a hopeful future. James’s eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and apology, his heart laid bare before her.

After months of earnest efforts and heartfelt confessions, James had shown her that he had grown, that he understood the gravity of his mistakes and the depth of her worth. The painful past was not forgotten, but it was acknowledged with a sincerity that spoke of a genuine desire for redemption. Their renewed love was not the same as it had been, but it was stronger, tempered by the trials they had endured.

As the evening wore on, their conversation drifted from the past to the present, from the shadows of their former selves to the light of the lives they were now building together. Slowly, they leaned into each other, their shoulders touching, their hands finding their way back to one another. The comfort of their closeness was a balm to old wounds, a sign that they were moving forward, not just revisiting old ground.

James took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he gathered the courage to ask the question he had held close for so long. He reached for her hand, his fingers interlacing with hers as if to anchor himself in the moment. “Y/n,” he said, his voice steady but laced with the emotion of their shared journey, “we’ve been through so much. I know I hurt you, and I’ve spent these months showing you that I’m not the person I was before. I know that words alone can’t erase the past, but I hope that my actions have shown you how deeply I love you and how much you mean to me.”

He looked into her eyes, his own filled with both hope and vulnerability. “Will you marry me, again?”

Her gaze met his, and in that shared look was a mixture of joy and remembrance, of forgiveness and a future envisioned. A gentle smile touched her lips, her voice steady as she answered, “Yes, James. I will marry you, again.”

In that tender moment, as they embraced on the couch, the weight of their past and the promise of their future seemed to blend into a perfect harmony. They lay there together, a symbol of love’s resilience and a testament to the power of second chances. The shadows of the past faded into the gentle glow of their renewed commitment, and they knew that this time, their love was not just a fleeting dream but a promise of forever.

It was January again, a full year since “the incident,” and the cold of the season seemed to only enhance the warmth of their love. A great deal had changed since then. She was no longer the same woman who had faced betrayal with a broken heart. She was stronger, her soul healed and brighter, her relationships deepened and more meaningful. She was closer to herself, to James, and to the people who had stood by her through the darkest days.

On this January evening, as snow gently blanketed the world outside, she prepared for their third anniversary—a day that now held the promise of a future unfettered by doubt. The anticipation of this celebration was a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had shrouded her thoughts three years ago. The room was filled with a soft light, and the air was rich with the fragrance of blooming winter flowers.

Lily stood by her side as her maid of honor, their past differences having long been reconciled. Sirius, as James’s best man, stood nearby, a proud smile on his face as he shared in the joy of the occasion. This time, Remus was present, a beloved friend who had also been the one to walk she down the aisle. His gentle presence was a comforting reminder of the bonds that had been mended and the love that had endured.

The ceremony was a fairytale in every sense. The venue was adorned with delicate white flowers and twinkling fairy lights that cast a magical glow over the gathered guests. The vows they exchanged were heartfelt and tender, capturing the depth of their renewed commitment.

James began, his voice steady yet choked with emotion. "She, from the moment I met you, I knew my life was forever changed. Through my mistakes and our hardships, you have shown me the meaning of true love and forgiveness. Today, I vow to cherish you, to stand by you through all of life’s trials and triumphs, and to love you with a heart that is wholly yours.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes glistening as she looked at James. “James, you have been my greatest joy and my deepest challenge. Through our journey, you have proven that love can heal and grow stronger with time. I vow to support you, to honor you, and to love you fiercely, just as you have loved me. Together, let us build a life filled with grace, patience, and boundless affection.”

As they were pronounced husband and wife, the kiss they shared was a symbol of the love that had been rekindled, pure and unblemished by past shadows. Their kiss was a promise of the future they would share, a silent testament to a year of growth and renewal.

The reception that followed was filled with laughter and joy. She and James shared their first dance as a married couple, the music enveloping them in a cocoon of happiness. As they swayed to the melody, the world seemed to pause around them, the love they shared evident in every tender touch and gaze.

Later in the evening, amidst the joyful chaos of the party, Lily approached Y/n with a sincere smile. “I’m so happy for you, Y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with both regret and hope. “I hope you stay happy like this forever.”

Y/n’s smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the hope she had carried through the years. “Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman with my past,” she replied softly. “But I have it.”

In that moment, as she looked at Lily and felt the embrace of the love surrounding her, Y/n knew that hope was not just a fleeting wish but a steadfast companion on the path they walked together. The evening continued in a swirl of joy and celebration, a testament to the enduring power of love and the promise of a future built on a foundation of trust and hope.

And as the night wore on, with the echoes of laughter and the gentle strains of music weaving through the air, James and Y/n danced beneath the stars, their hearts aligned in a shared dream of forever.

Losing herself in her husband's embrace, she finally found her peace. The warm realisation dawned over her that she won't all alone. She will actually have her husband by her side.

[rebelrebelwrites]

Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel’s Weekly Fic Recs

I'm back. 😊 A day and several weeks late, but I'm back. I've decided I'd like to keep doing these as much as I can. I hope anyone reading enjoys.

As always, this week’s recs are…

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.

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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: About you, without you by @aylana-ryvain

What you need to know going in:

A lovely, sad, sweet one-shot written for Haladriel Week where Galadriel returns to Barad-dûr after Sauron’s defeat at the beginning of the Fourth Age. Once there, she discovers a treasure trove of trinkets crafted by The Dark Lord in the hopes that she would someday change her mind. 🥹 Another tragic instant-classic, this fic wrenches at your heart in the best way. Be ready to bookmark!

Complete, Teen

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: Someone Taught You Wrong, Kid by @klynnvakarian

What you need to know going in:

The Western AU I never knew I needed! The VIBES in this fic, I tell you—they’re strong, and pitch-perfect. Between the dialogue and the at first tentative, blink-and-you-might-miss-it moments between Hal and Gal, which then blossoms into something that's more matter-of-fact; a frank romance that feels so fitting for this world and time and space for the two of them… it’s lovely. You’ll be swept away the same as they are. Very excited to see the final piece of it!

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter and AO3.

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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: The Nicest Parts of Hell by @myrsinemezzo

What you need to know going in:

Eru have mercy on my soul, my unprecedented foray into dark fic continues with this gripping, dare I say insidiously enticing fic—and, as always, I mean that in the best way possible. This story settles into your psyche; making you feel just as unhinged as the characters feel. You’re probably asking yourself why, so let me get to the heart of it: the story starts with Galadriel stumbling (practically literally) into Halbrand’s arms… Only problem is, he’s her brother Fin’s boyfriend. 👀 From there, she and Halbrand start a toxic, troubling affair that is impossible to stop reading. (Same goes for this story’s sequel, which is still in progress).

Complete, Explicit

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Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter and AO3.

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): And In That Time, I Have Had Many Names by @the-manatee-hammer

What you need to know going in:

I’ve been meaning to share this fic for a long, long time, and I definitely should’ve done so sooner, so forgive me. Full disclosure: I found out about it from a friend who told me that I’d been mentioned in the notes, so again, forgive me for my slightly unbiased opinion. Regardless of how I came to it, I loved it as soon as I started reading! The story sees Halbrand still injured in the healing halls of Eregion—until Galadriel offers to help along the healing with something he’s never tried before. 👀🔥 Cue sexual healing! Spicy, intimate sexual healing, and I think the first time I encountered a virgin Sauron in fic. And hot damn, it’s hot. Unsurprisingly, Sauron is very eager to learn, and a very adept student. It’s been a while since this was updated, but still so worth checking out and subscribing to for it’s sensuality and supremely well done writing.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The Can’t Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: Stand by Me by @scriberated

What you need to know going in:

Lately I’ve been feeling some major burnout for many reasons, and for me, this fic was a balm at just the right moment! A sequel to this adorable one-shot, it’s an instantly delightful, fully-fledged romcom complete with roommates not-so-secretly pining after each other, fake dating, bed sharing, and that’s just within the first two chapters! 🤩 The premise: Hal and Gal are roommates, and after breaking up with her shitty, absent boyfriend Celeborn in the original one-shot, Hal takes care of Gal while she’s sick. This continuation sees Galadriel trying to navigate their growing closeness, finally agreeing to a trip together to visit Hal’s family—and from there, the romcom shenanigans ensue. This is another one where I can’t wait to see what comes next!

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter and AO3.

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Me at all these fics:

Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your pershaladronal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️

Until next week!

[hpowellsmith]

I bought the game today and feeling so excitedddd 🎉🎉🎉

I wasn't able to follow the development from beginning to end due to some academic piles but now that we'll have a week off soon, it was amazing timing 💐💐💐

Backread Tumblr too and myyyyyyy

The collages of the RA ROs really hype up the story and allows a glimpse of seeing what MC is compatible with who

Speaking of compatibility, if it isn't much time consuming or a bother, is it alright knowing what qualities turn off ROs from romance (or what they least like)? Both for RA and Cdlc???

Also is it just me or do Javi secretly likes rival/ enemy to lovers???

Ahh thank you so much! This ask has been in my inbox for a while but I want to say congratulations for your week off and I hope that you don't have too much work now!

In both Creme de la Creme and Royal Affairs (and Honor Bound), some characters will break up with you based on how you handle some events that happen in the game. So there are some dealbreakers for some characters. But in general… the characters will absolutely go for MCs who aren't necessarily their usual "type" depending on how the MC treats them.

That said! Here are some aspects that may make the characters not enjoy spending time with the MC so much.

Creme de la Creme:

-Hartmann: being really rebellious, flouting rules (though they can find that a bit exciting too)

-Max: being a stickler for rules, telling them off

-Freddie: lack of curiosity or shared interests

-Delacroix: being dismissive about their occult beliefs

-Karson: being cruel

-Blaise: what they see as lacking backbone

-Auguste: being very "unpolished" without intellectual interests (eg they will go for Freddie because of their academic enthusiasm but wouldn't go for Karson)

-Rosario: being an overt snob

-Florin: being (as they see it) too intensely emotional, wanting a serious commitment quickly, causing them drama or discomfort

Royal Affairs:

Related: here's an answer about the kinds of people the Royal Affairs characters find harder to talk to

-Asher: doesn't like meanness, but, crucially, this doesn't apply to the MC. They can and do make almost any excuse for things the MC might want to do to those around them

-Beaumont: clinginess, lack of ambition/direction

-Dominique: being told off, especially someone being snippy about their flightiness

-Hyacinthe: dismissiveness, breaking social rules to be very outspoken

-Javi: gold-digging, manipulativeness

-Trevelyan: lack of curiosity or thought about how the world works (they don't have to agree - they like arguing - but if someone just doesn't care, that's a turnoff to them)

You didn't ask for Honor Bound and I hadn't announced it when you sent the ask, but here is a bonus round for them, hehe!

There are some plot events that equal dealbreakers, but let's wait to draw the curtain and reveal them...

Honor Bound:

Fiore: lack of manners/social polish (though they may sometimes find it fun to be brought out of their shell); being mean to or about their daughter

Korzha: lack of backbone or rigor (though perhaps they would like to encourage someone to have more backbone... hmmm)

Matia: they don't reeeally have many turnoffs and are pretty adventurous with who they'll go for (but under some circumstances they might see a very hapless person as more of a younger-sibling relationship rather than romance) (which is where they're at with Raffi and Savarel - not just because of age, because they'll romance a younger MC, but more personality)

Raffi: they are so easygoing that someone would need to be, like, really mean to them to be a real turnoff. They would hypothetically Hit That for almost any MC or indeed most of the adult NPCs under 50

Savarel: disagreement about moral correctness

[informalcrybaby]

Clever Girl  (Harwin Strong x OC)

Summary: Lyra Castellan is a noblewoman who doesn’t quite fit in. After escaping a party one night, she meets Ser Harwin in the darkness of the forest. The two share a special moment together.

A/N: This is my first time posting on Tumblr, like ever, so please be kind if you can and if you can’t I’ll probably go and cry in my closet for a little bit. I hope to make this into a series if anyone is interested in it. Enjoy!

Lyra had never enjoyed feasts or parties if she was being honest. The pure excess of food, drink and gossip being consumed always soured her stomach. Gluttony, it seemed, turned her off or merely it was the simple fact that there were starving people sheer meters from those who turned their noses up at less desirable cuts of meat. So, when forced to attend such affairs, she preferred to slip out after introductions and pleasantries were finished. Most of the time, as her father and brothers fell deeper into their cups, she went unnoticed. However, on that night, there was someone watching.

She hadn’t noticed the dark-haired man’s heavy gaze as she slipped through the opening of the gathering tent. Having been too focused on timing her eldest brother, Raeken, and his heavy lidded sips from his overflowing goblet, to notice that mere seconds after her departure, he made his exit.

Crisp night air nipped her exposed arms and kissed her chapped lips in greeting, welcoming her to the edge of the dense forest lining the grounds. In the shadows casted by the cooks’ fires, Lyra sought her solace against a large softwood tree. It wasn’t silent, as jeering and muttered chattering still flitted about, but it was quiet enough that the gnawing in her chest began to ease.

Smiling softly against the darkness, Lyra slipped a wine skin from its hiding place in her heavy skirts. Before taking a heavy sip, she offered her silent gratitude to her favorite maid and her insistency on secret pockets in most of her garments. As she swallowed another sip, a bard began strumming softly, drowning out all background noise. His song was a sad one, a crooning for a lost lover that she had heard before. She hummed gently at first, taking special care to follow the lilt in his voice until she was singing along with him.

As the bard piped out his final stanza, a branch snapped loudly near Lyra, pulling her from their secret duet. Faster than she imagined herself capable of, she pulled the intricate clip holding her fiery locks in a mazelike updo and spun to face the attacker of her peace.

The tip of the small dagger sat just underneath the chin of a man she had only ever seen in passing and heard referred to in the ladies’ stories of gallantry. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes at first, but her gaze slipped slowly down his curly dark locks, then his nose that bore a faded scar at the bridge and finally lips that looked too soft for a man of such a brutal reputation. She only met his piercing blue eyes after he spoke.

“I mean you no harm my lady.” His deep baritone rumbled through her and had she had her wits about her, she would have blamed her shiver on the cold. He held his palms up as a signal of surrender, but he made no move to disarm her.

“You intend for me to believe that there is nothing to fear about a man called “Break Bones”?” The hand, holding the dagger didn’t waver as she spoke, but she hoped he saw the glimmer of playfulness in her emerald eyes. She knew he meant her no harm. He could have removed her weapon from her possession at any point, but she couldn’t help but to goad him just a little.

“A moniker is only as powerful as those who breathe life into it,” He chuckled lightly, the corners of his plump lips turning up slightly, “Shall I call you “Cut Throat” then, my lady?”

She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her. His jesting felt comforting and warm. Very much unlike the sneaky formal perversions of most of the noble men who had crossed her path over the years. She only wavered playfully for moment before securing the dagger back into its gold encrusted sheath.

“I quite like the sound of that actually,” Lyra retorted, leaning down to retrieve the wineskin from the ground, “But for formality’s sake, call me Lyra.” She raised the wine to her lips and took a sip to steady her nerves before offering it to her false assailant. He took it gratefully, tipping his head back and sipping generously before offering it back to her.

 “Lyra.” He said her name slowly, like he was tasting every contour of every sound of her name. How could such a large, intimidating man appear so soft? She wondered; their eyes existing for only each other in that moment.

“Harwin.” She countered, trying to replicate the care he put into her name. His face warmed and he offered her the smallest of bows.

“May I join you?” He asked, head dipped toward the tree she had been sitting against, “I do feel that we both are in need of a slight reprieve from the fanfare.”

“Please.” She gestured for him to follow her, feeling the heat of his gaze against her back until they both dropped to the soft earth and leaned back against the tree. As if on cue, or maybe he had been playing the entire time, the Bard’s strumming filled their ears once again.  

They sat in comfortable silence for moments that seemed to stretch on forever, passing what was left of the wineskin back and forth. She didn’t know the song the bard was singing but surprisingly, Ser Harwin did. He sung softly between sips and when his eyes met hers, she was trying to suppress her smile.

“Does my singing displease you?” He laughed, bright smile matching the one she was unable to hold back. He knocked his shoulder against hers lightly as if they were just childhood friends having a laugh. The closeness stole her breathe for a moment.

“Not at all, you are a lovely singer,” She said, leaning over to steal their shared drink from his hands, their fingers grazing one another, “Rid yourself of your lance in the next tourney and sing your opponent off his horse.”

The laugh that escaped Harwin electrified Lyra in a way she had never felt before. The sound invaded every pore in her body and exploded with a warmth that made her feel like she would never be in need of a cloak ever again.

“Clever girl.” He praised her lowly, voice containing more heat than humor.

 It was a magical sound, one that she felt the overwhelming need to hear again. But just as she attempted to poke him again to elicit that glorious sound, a piercing yell broke through their cozy bubble.

“LYRA!” Her brother, Raeken, called from somewhere not too far in the darkness. Her oldest brother would be absolutely livid to find her alone with a man, even one held in as high regard as Harwin.

“Shit!” The word came out as a hiss as she hurriedly pulled herself to her feet. Harwin followed, catching her elbow as she slipped slightly. Her skin flared hot under his touch. She caught his gaze and smiled sadly, bidding him farewell with her eyes before taking off into the darkness to murder her oldest brother.