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sugarwithtea · 2 years

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paris in the rain || pjm [1]

pairing : bookstore owner!jimin x fem!reader

genre : angst, fluff, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers.

rating : pg-15

series summary : you hadn't expected to run into jimin, an unusually charming guy in the midst of love and peace, in paris. but here you were, falling for a man covered in the smell of old parchment and wine while also recovering from the traumatic experiences of your past. your work stay in paris, which you had took on for a change of atmosphere, changes every nook of your life.

chap word count : 5.7k

chap warnings : swearing.

author's note : okay so its finally here !! ik this one has very less jimin in it but trust me its important to set the mood aagh!! i hope yall enjoy my first series and lmk what yall think about it hehe :)

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city of love by alexi butirskiy

m.list | next.

Walking down the street, you can't feel more ecstatic.

Work had been a bitch lately but your boss did one thing right when she gave you the task of attending some upcoming art exhibitions in Paris, and writing reviews on them for the art section of your magazine. Initially your friend Yoona was also going to accompany you, but soon the plan changed when she was assigned to visit Boseong for the tea plantation's article.

Miranda, your boss has several acquaintances in this city. One of them was going to help and guide you on your three months long stay. The breeze cut through your hair swiftly as the sun slowly started to sink beneath the horizon.

You had asked Taehyung, the said acquaintance, to meet you at the studio apartment you were going to live in, your luggage already there via helpers. Your phone buzzed to indicate a message.

Taehyung (6:02 pm) : the helpers have left and i am at the apartment.

Taehyung (6:02 pm) : it's been half an hour since i have arrived !!

Taehyung (6:03 pm) : where are you?

You (6:03 pm) : omw; I'm walking hehe.

Taehyung (6:03 pm) : seriously?

Taehyung (6:04 pm) : come quickly, it seems like it's going to rain.

You (6:04 pm) : okay, mom.

You stuff your phone back in your coat pocket and look around in awe. You had met Taehyung twice before, once when he had come to Seoul to curate some pieces for the museum he works for, and again when you both ran into each other in Japan. You were there with your company, to cover a highly anticipated gallery opening, and him as a mere spectator.

Assumably, you had shown him around Seoul for a week or so, when he was there and so, he thought it would be best if he could return the favour when you were in his city. Thus, calling him a friend would be better than calling him Miranda's acquaintance.

The sky turns a weird mix of pink, golden and grey as you turn the corner to a buzzing street. The first thing that caught your eye was the head of the Eiffel tower peeking from between two buildings and lush green trees. The setting sun casted a soft lustre upon its form and the tower looked as loving as ever.

A feeling struck your heart, ever so lonely, ever so loveless, ever so gloomy. Maybe, it was one of the reasons you agreed to come here, to heal what was broken, in a way yet, unlovable.

When you glanced at the tower's iron structure, you saw what it reflected, the city's love and a hidden form of something unexpected, misery. You relate to it. An embodiment of love, filled with eternal misery.

People loved to call you friendly, a person who could attract peers and enemies alike, easily. An everlasting smile etched on your features, always announced your presence to everyone before you could officially do it. Little did they know, or noticed but never acknowledged, that your smile never reached your eyes, lingering at your cheekbones, drowning itself in the dark circles marked underneath your eyes, if ever so lightly.

Your eyes bounce off the structure and rake your surroundings, pausing on a peculiar sign, upholstered above a small shop with no exterior decorations except for a faded poster of a bestseller book and a small open sign hanging in the glass of its brown, shabby door. The shop had none of those tell-tale ground to ceiling glass windows. Instead, old, paneled walls are taking their place.

'MIMI'S DREAM'

The sign mentioned the aforementioned words in faded cursive letters.

All the other shops in the neighborhood were decorated impressively, to attract the people. They were cleaned and maintained, giving off the vintage vibes, but still fancy.

Mimi's Dream was none of the above. It was shabby, old and gave no efforts to attract people. The door was almost hidden between the glamour of the shops next to it. An odd sight, indeed, amongst the splendor of the street overlooked by the wonder of the city.

Your pace faltered as you neared it. An unmistakable scent of coffee and old parchment filled your senses and you paused right outside the door, weighing the options of stepping inside or stepping away. The only thing visible from the small glass partition on the door was a small desk pushed up against a shelf overflowing with books.

A mop of blonde hair kept on moving at the edge of the desk. The person, whose hair they were, was crouched down behind the desk, so you could only see the top of their head, which kept on shuffling here and there. Rest of the interior was mediocre, some of the shelves were dust-laden to be honest.

The option of stepping inside weighed more on your balancing pan and thus you moved forward to push open the door when a buzzing sound stopped you.

Taehyung could have not chosen a better time to call you.

He greets you with a shout in normal Taehyung manner.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Outside Mimi's Dream."

"Outside what now?"

"It's a bookstore, Tae. What do you want?"

"You. I have places to be, Y/N. Cut the tour short and get your ass here."

He sounded livid, so fucking livid.

And, you? You were now scared for life.

In all these peculiar sights you forgot the most peculiar man ever. Him waiting for you, at your apartment had slipped your mind completely. You mumble a small 'sorry' and dash from the place towards your apartment as the gray clouds started covering the sky above you.

It was a mess.

Your apartment was a mess.

And amidst the mess, was standing Taehyung, his hair equally messy and eyes shooting daggers at you. Even though the daggers were blocked by the numerous cardboard boxes standing tall between him and the door, with him visible only slightly, his fury was well translated to you.

You picked up the small boxes at your feet, set them aside and started heading towards death personified. He was not even speaking anything, just looking at you with the expression your mom gave you when she found out you tried smoking weed. Your mom had also stared at you wordlessly, Taehyung putting you in a similar situation.

As you stood in front of him, face to face, your eyes cast down, though, he squinted his eyes at you and opened his mouth to tell you off. But, he stopped midway, snapped his mouth shut, shook his head and turned around, realizing you were already quite the disappointment for him to sour his tongue up with the words he was going to say.

Even though you knew the reason for his anger, you couldn't stop your mouth from acting up.

"What?" you spat as he faced his back to you, trying to navigate his way around your dumping ground.

"Nothing. I decided that murdering you is not worth the jail time." he said and sat down on a box, giving up his thought of going deeper in your house.

"Okay I'm sorry."

"What were you even doing for a whole hour? The route from the airport is straight and like ten minutes away on foot!" he prodded and you looked everywhere but him.

What were you going to say? A poorly decorated bookstore caught your eye and you were gathering the courage to step inside it? No thanks, you'd rather save yourself from the embarrassment. Lying always seemed like the best option for you anyway, so why not go with it.

"I thought I'd take a look around the neighborhood." you murmured, your feet being the most interesting for you at that moment.

"When I was waiting for you at this shithole?"

"I said I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd get too caught up!" you knew you were being inconsiderate but the look on his face almost made you laugh out loud.

He breathed anger, trying to subdue it by taking deep breaths. One thing you knew, you needed to make it up to him later, in some way or other as this was totally your fault.

You went forward to hug him and wrapping your arms around his torso, you mumbled into his chest

"Listen, I am so sorry, genuinely. I just got distracted by this beautiful city you live in. I promise I will make it up to you later as you had to give up your time doing nothing because of me."

"How?"

"Huh?" you looked up to him, your chin on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tighter.

"How are you gonna make it up to me?" a sly smile on his lips.

"Um, however you ask me to."

"I am going on a date with my girlfriend next week."

"Congratulations?"

"You'll be the one paying for it."

"Fuck no." you free yourself from his grasp and take a step back.

"Well then, okay. Have fun living in this city without any friends. Have fun learning French. Have fun with loneliness." he said and started moving towards the door, his lips still set in a wide ass grin.

You fucked up pretty well this time. There was no way you were going to let him go, leaving yourself to explore this city alone. He knew that, that bastard.

The only concern now on your mind was, where were he and her girlfriend going to, for a date. Knowing Taehyung, he'll probably choose some expensive place just to annoy you.

You rush towards him and quickly hold his wrist, almost tripping over a lone object on the floor.

"I'll do it."

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks down at you and nods his head in a way of saying, 'told you so.'

"Where are you guys going?"

"I'll let you know in three days, by Friday."

Prick. He has planned his date a week prior. It has to be something extravagant, given his expressions. You wish you don't have to spend way more than you can, you can't afford giving up a chunk of it on an unnecessary date in your first week in the city.

"You have not yet decided, have you?" you squint your eyes at him, trying your best so that he'll slip up the answer.

"Oh you'll be surprised to know that I have it all planned out. Just not for you to know yet, darling."

"Whatever." you huff and set yourself to work, him helping you around the house to arrange your stuff and settle down quickly.

Two hours later you plop yourself down on the couch now in your living room and not in a bubble wrap against the window.

"Food, food, food." Taehyung mumbles as he sits down beside you.

"Wait, I'm ordering something."

"No, there's a place down the street, it sells amazing fried chicken. I wanna eat that."

"So we are going there? You can't even stand properly Tae, how do you have the energy to walk down the street?"

"Not we, you."

"What?"

"They don't do deliveries, but they do pick ups."

You just cock an eyebrow at him without saying anything.

"What? Don't look at me like that. This is your house, it's your duty to feed your guest. And, I can wait here now, given that I have this whole couch to myself." and he proceeds to rest his head on the armrest and kicks his legs in your lap as you shrug them off almost immediately and stand up to collect your wallet.

You don't have the energy to argue with him and somewhere you still feel guilty for making him wait, though you should not as you're gonna pay for it, but you still do. That's why you proceed to do as he says.

"You are going to pay for all your sins." you grit through your teeth and dash out.

The streetlights adorned the street giving it the look of a pearl necklace.

The place Taehyung had mentioned was just five minutes away and you started trudging towards it in a slow walk as soon as you exited your building. Rounding a corner, you once again came in front of the familiar, peculiar store.

The lights outside were dim and you wanted to get a peek inside but you thought better as a previously disappointed man is already waiting for you. Still, a small smile plays on your lips as you walk past the door.

You glaze your eyes around yourself and once again delve into the feeling from before that day. You felt the hole all too well, but something told you the chatter and air of this city would help you in filling it up.

So indulged in your thoughts, you don't watch your way and bump into a wall. A soft wall. Wait, a moving wall.

Oh my god it was a person, very much alive, moving and soft.

You lose your footing and stumble back, your eyes closing for a fleeting second as you steady yourself. A soft thud follows your collision, the person dropping someone their belongings. Your face turns in a grimace as a shrill gasp leaves your mouth. The only thing then audible is a string of timid 'sorry' in a voice dipped in honey, garnished with crumbles but oh so sweet.

You open your eyes and cast your sight downwards, just to be met with a mop of blonde hair, crouching at your feet and collecting his books.

Mimi's Dream, the only thing that flashes your mind as soon as you see the all too familiar sight. He stands up, towering an inch or two above you and oh boy were you not ready for it.

He was beautiful. In a, sweep you off your feet at the first sight, kind of beautiful. His round cheeks and plump lips catch your attention. As you take his appearance in, his lips break into a shy smile, his eyes crinkling in the process.

Two crescent like eyes, with lashes dipped in night, his appearance was similar to that of a blonde Adonis. With high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, set on a pretty neck, he was too much to look at.

He handles some books in his hand and when looks at you staring at him, clears his throat, the shy smile still tugging at his lips. You soon look away and bow down, mumbling a small,

"I am sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Oh no, I am sorry. It was my fault too." he lets his voice ring in your ears softly as you meet his almost hidden eyes, due to his smile and slightly puffed, pink cheeks, due to the cold.

You let out a light chuckle with a shy it's okay and continue to stand there weirdly when he decides to break the awkward silence.

"You're a foreigner."

Your accent might have given you away or the fact that you chose to speak English instead of French for someone in Paris. Even though he looks Asian, you can never be so sure if he was brought up here or had immigrated, like you.

"Yes, I'm from Korea."

His widened eyes and the glimmer in them confirmed your assumption as he starts way too excitedly,

"Really? I am from Korea too."

Before you can even muster up a reply, a distant voice ringed in your ears.

"Jimin!" shouted a man from a few places behind you.

You swiftly turn around to look at a lean man with platinum blonde hair frayed over his forehead and lips formed into a sort of triangle. He was handsome, insanely so. You couldn't help but just stare at him. He wore printed baggy jeans and an oversized multi colored shirt, a stark contrast from the man you just bumped into.

"Yeah?" the man behind you, who you now assume is Jimin, quips with a tired voice. As if all he wanted now was to crash in his bed and not bear another second of the world moving around him.

"I'm hungry, man. Bring the books in quickly so we can eat."

"Uh, yes coming." Jimin grunts and looks at the back of your head. His stare burns the back of your head and you whip it around to look at him.

"It was nice meeting you, " he raises his eyebrows expectantly, with the softness of the freshly bloomed buds and extends a hand towards you.

"Y/N."

"Jimin." He smiles bashfully and grasps your hand in a gentle hold before letting it go and using it to better hold the books he was comically balancing with a single hand. You both giggle at the same time.

"It was nice meeting you too, Jimin." you speak and part your ways with no more words, just smiles and glances.

"Sorry once again." he calls out as you reach the corner.

"Likewise, Jimin." you quip back and turn around to find him walking backwards towards his shop, looking at you. You laugh again, "Now, go."

And with that, you disappear round the corner.

Lately Taehyung's been a little off.

You can't put a finger on the long list of reasons you have for his grumpiness. He is what you'd like to call a drama queen, over enthusiastic and overdramatic. There could've been complications at work, he could've been low by you bailing out on him constantly, maybe there's trouble in paradise, or maybe it's just one of his moods.

It had almost been a week since your arrival and you were rushing around, trying to settle yourself and your stuff in the new city. It had been overwhelming for you initially, especially when you realised many people did not speak English, and not everything was as romanticized as the books and the movies. So you were thankful when your neighbour Lily helped you out.

It had been so hectic that you were not able to meet Taehyung for almost a week. He had been trying to come up with plans to give you a tour of the city, the museums, the landmarks, the galleries, the cafes, the clubs, everything. But you were always cancelling on him due to your weary state, resorting to watching Netflix and eating to your heart's content whenever you even got an ounce of leisure time.

As a result, the man was now in one of his dramatic moods.

You were almost settled down, almost being the key word. So you decide to ask him to hangout with you. After all, he is the only one you know in this new world.

You (10:26 am) : hi. wanna hangout later?

Taehyung (10:31 am) : did the sun rise from the west today?

You (10:33 am) : shut up or I'm taking my words back.

Taehyung (10:33 am) : okay okay, sorry.

Taehyung (10:34 am) : and yes, I'd like to hangout with you, your majesty.

You (10:34 am) : my place?

Taehyung (10:35 am) : lmao no

You (10:35 am) : yours?

Taehyung (10:36 am) : be ready at 6. i'll pick u up

You (10:36 am) : and take me to?

Taehyung (10:36 am) : hell

You (10:36 am) : bitch?????

Taehyung (10:37 am) : relax, don't you believe me?

You (10:37 am) : um, no?

Taehyung (10:37 am) : good 😂

Taehyung (10:37 am) : anyways. don't cancel tonight.

You (10:38 am) : 👍🏻😒

These were the reasons why you were always scared to agree to any of his shenanigans. Always vague and increasing your nervousness, as well as dying curiosity. But at this point, you brought this upon yourself and you have to roll on with his antiques with a grudging smile.

You set your phone down on the kitchen counter and walk to the balcony of your bedroom, past your perfectly set up living area.

Your apartment had the classic, minimalistic design. A cream couch adorned the living room with a wooden coffee table and potted plants sitting atop the stools in the corner, with varying heights. A small bookshelf was pushed up against the wall and a loveseat was placed beside the window. It was small, but lovely.

Your eyes rake the expanse of the street visible from the small balcony. It was still the start of the day and people were rushing about with their morning caffeine clutched tightly in their hand and eyes cast low. Some were the exception and occasionally glanced about to absorb their surroundings or just strike up a chat with someone they know. It was a relief to see the life in the city move similarly to the one back home, yet differently.

While trying to take in the morning view from your apartment, your eyes once again fall on a particular blonde wandering the streets with his head low and hands tucked in the pockets of his trench coat. Your eyes follow his figure as he makes his way till a corner and then turns, hiding behind the blocks of buildings.

Jimin was a stranger. You knew nothing about him but his name and the place he worked at, the bookstore. Still, he kept on visiting your mind at random hours, for reasons unknown.

Your highschool friend, Gina always used to say that you thought about absurd things, your curiosity working it's way towards topics you have no relation to, at all. She was true, ofcourse. For right now your mind was running circles around only one person, Jimin. You were charmed by his presence. You died to know more about him. You died to look at him again. And you still don't know why you gulped down your coffee hastily, changed into a presentable pair of clothes, put on your coat, grabbed your keys and left your apartment.

You might reason it as the dire need to get some books.

The overhead bell rings as you set foot inside the shop and a smiling face looks up at you from behind the counter.

He is not Jimin.

But you are very much welcomed by him.

"Hello." he speaks in a chirpy tone and you can't stop the smile etching itself slowly on your face.

"Hey." you respond and gingerly make your way towards him.

He was dressed differently today, yet so similar, donning a black sweatshirt with a big smiley on it and his platinum blonde hair still frayed at his forehead, this time his lips in a heart shaped smile instead of a triangle. His radiance bounces off the shelves filled with books, him standing out against the vintage, old backdrop of the shop.

"Good morning. I am Hoseok."

You just smile at him without giving him your name, too lost to even return the act of kindness.

"What can I help you with?" he asks, softly, to gain your attention which he realizes he might have lost.

Your mind goes blank. You had not thought that to enter a bookstore, you'll need to have an excuse. You can't walk in there without any motive. In your panic, you say the first name that comes to your mind.

"Fitzgerald."

"Ah, classic." he says with the same, kind expression and you almost sigh with relief.

His eyes glide over your surroundings and stop at a corner which makes you whip your head towards it.

It was a mess, the shelves overflowing with old hardcovers with a passage between two such tall ones. A stack of books was placed at the end of the short partition, up against the wall with some stray pages covering the ground beside it. A wooden plaque with the sign 'Fiction' hung at the entrance.

Hoseok walks over to the corner and you follow him, spellbound by the sight in front of you.

You loved books. You loved the fact that there is a form of escapism so unreal, yet so real. The prints on paper bound by hardcovers or another layer of paper give you a sense of comfort hardly anyone could provide. The life you had lived was short compared to the ones your mind, your heart had lived. It was singular, it was just one. The ones lived by your heart were multiple, they took up small places in your existence and shaped you for the singular one you had to live. Your eyes read things your life couldn't display to you in its entirety of twenty five years. You eyes read things which taught you lessons your people couldn't teach you in the entirety of your twenty five years.

You close your eyes for a fleeting second and inhale the scent of parchment rolling off of fresh coffee. You open them with a forever smile marking your features.

"You'll definitely find him somewhere over here."

You snap out of your trance at Hoseok's words and look at him smiling at you.

"Ah, thankyou. I actually moved in recently and wanted to fill my shelves with some of my faves which I had to leave at home."

His face lights up at your words.

"How's the city treating you?"

"Like it has known me for years."

"Really?"

"No."

You both laugh at him seeing right through you at your half ass lie. Of course you have loved this city, but you are still adjusting to its glamour, to its reputation. You can't say it's been treating you like an old friend, but it is definitely trying to accommodate you well.

"It's good though. I am still navigating my way through the 'parisian' lifestyle." you make air quotes around Parisian and Hoseok snickers.

"Nothing extraordinary about that. I know you'll fit in well."

"Thank you so much." and you realize you never gave him your name.

"I am Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." he shakes your extended hand and turns towards the aisle of books in front of you.

"As I said, you must find him somewhere over here. I normally would have been able to find it out for you but Jimin recently rearranged the shelves." he says with a dent between his eyebrows and a disappointing voice, "without letting me know."

At his mention your ears perk up like a dog hearing his owner call him.

"Your co-worker?"

"More like my boss but yeah."

"Oh so this is his shop?"

"Yes, it was his grandfather's. Then his father's. And now he handles it." Hoseok looks at you with a soft glint in his eyes, as if reminiscing the days when Jimin's father used to run the store.

"Wow." is the only word you are able to conjure. This store is really vintage, it holds years of history and three generations have adored it.

"It's incredible." you look around the area in awe of it.

The interior is quite what you might have imagined it to have. The old wooden panels and worn off paint decorating its walls alluded to the overall vibe of the shop. There were numerous aisles in front of you, eac one of them had its genre mentioned on a plaque hanging at its entrance. The shelves lining the walls were adorned with statues made with alabaster or marble, displaying Greek gods and replicas of some famous pieces from the 14th century. There were blown off candles hurdled in a corner and hanging lights from the ceiling casted an incandescent glow all over the floor.

Hoseok claps his hands while looking at his desk and you immediately give him your attention.

"Okay so I'll be at the desk sorting some things out. If you need any help, just call out my name, okay?"

"Okay."

A thought suddenly strikes your mind and you turn on your heels to witness a departing Hoseok and call out to him.

"Yeah?"

"Has the name always been the same?"

He smiles and you both know the name you are talking about. A knowing look comes over his face and he raises his eyebrows a little bit.

"No, they changed it." he says and prances off casually as you wonder what might have been the shop's original name then.

When Hoseok said you'll find Fitzgerald somewhere among these shelves, he might have not mulled over the possibility that maybe you won't. Even though the thought was impulsive when you had spoken it out loud for him, you realized you really needed Gatsby and Benjamin Button to have a place on your shelf.

You had skimmed through the shelves, rather thoroughly and had failed to locate the books sitting atop them. You did find a lot of other books which always had a corner in your heart and as you moved about the aisle with the likes of Jane Austen, Orwell, Tolstoy, you wondered if you'd even find Fitzgerald among them.

You move towards the section which displays a set of books which were not dust ridden or had slightly worn off covers like the others. These had immaculately illustrated covers which used modern graphics and you know you have ventured into an area where your quest had the highest chances of failure.

Your eye catches the faded 'Romance' scribbled onto the side of a shelf and you run a finger over it, smiling at the thought that years ago a couple would have wrote it over there, or maybe the previous owners used less expensive methods of indication for the readers.

Raking your eyes over the shelves, you quickly grab a copy of One Last Stop with your free hand as you are yet to read it.

"Hoseok?" you call out and the reply is almost immediate.

"Yeah?"

"Help me, I can't find those books." you say and a soft padding sound follows as you hear his footsteps advancing towards you. He appears beside you at the end of the aisle.

"I swear to god I am going to fire Jimin."

"Yeah well good luck with that but I really can't find Fitzgerald anywhere over here." you laugh with him and both of you start your search again.

Amidst it, you try to glance out of the door and see rain pouring heavily and partially disrupting the morning buzz of the roads and adding to the eerie, peaceful vibe of the store.

Hoseok searches through the top shelves and you go through the bottom ones, removing the books and readjusting them. A while passes and almost all the books have been readjusted but your treasure hunt still didn't have any direction.

"Now only he can help you find it." Hoseok says and plops down on the floor with crossed legs and a tired stance.

"God?" you chuckle and follow suit.

"No such luck. It's just Jimin." he sighs and looks at you with his lips curved in apology and you smile a little at him.

"I am sorry this was such a mess. I swear we are better on other days."

"I am sure about that. It's just not our day today." you say and pat his arm encouragingly.

He studies you with an unreadable expression and you feel a silence sit around the both of you, comfortable enough for you to prop your chin on your folded knees pulled to your chest.

You were alone with a stranger but the rain sounds and the calm morning gave you comfort which was hard to achieve in the rush of moving in and settling down. You close your eyes for a second and realize you'll need to head home soon. Opening them with a groan you move your legs to break the peace.

"Aren't you waiting till he returns? He will be back soon."

"I want to, but I can't. I have to run some errands."

His lips form a triangle as you stand up and pat your butt to get rid of seemingly nothing. As soon as you pick up your phone which was out on the floor, the door opens, ringing the bell violently and in walks a very drenched Jimin.

"One more hour of this rain and we'll have to use boats to navigate the city." he grumbles, rather loudly and Hoseok slowly stands up as you just stare at him wide eyed.

He is wearing the same outfit you saw him in from your balcony, except his coat and hair are wet and his face carries an annoyed expression. Hoseok walks towards him with missiles to shoot instead of words.

"Boss, can you please kindly let me know where the fuck did you keep Fitzgerald after your impromptu rearrangement?" he asks with a sickly sweet smile which soon transforms into a sour face and you suppress a giggle at the look of pure horror on Jimin's face at Hoseok's sudden outburst.

He takes a second to contemplate his words and when he realizes, you watch his eyes turn into small crescents and cheeks puff up with a smile.

"Oh I have kept them in the inventory area."

"But they were old?"

"I know." and he gives no further explanation for his odd behaviour and walks up to a door at the back of the store you were just now discovering.

You and Hoseok look at each other, then at the door he disappeared to, then again at each other, trying to make sense but failing nevertheless. He returns a minute letter with a stack of books in his hands and comes to a halt in front of Hoseok while humming an old Polish tune.

It's then that he realizes of your presence in the store and turns his head towards you. Your eye catches his movement, mainly because you were staring at only him and he locks his eyes with yours.

His face changes demeanor and the nonchalant expression morphs into that of surprise, his eyes widening and body straightening up with an amused yet joyful small smile.

Hoseok looks between him and you and before he can open his mouth to ask the obvious question, Jimin speaks up.

"Y/N?"

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lexsssu · 1 year

Text

Vision (Daemon Targaryen)

Flufftober Day 25

TAGS: Daemon/Dragoness!Reader

He is three and twenty when his brother finally allows him to annul his fruitless marriage to Rhea Royce. The shackles of matrimony had left him hungry and wanting for warm flesh when his former wife was as cold and hard as stone, laying nearly as still as death during their wedding night.

It’s no surprise that he takes off on Caraxes after being twice-bested by Ser Criston Cole in the melee and joust, leaving him with no further reason to stay as he set off for the pillow houses of Lys.

For where better to stoke the embers of his youth that had dwindled beneath the oppression of his bronze bitch?

Caraxes lands at a field far enough from Lovely Lys (so as not to cause any panic and incite a riot), and as Daemon slips off the hulking back of his mount, his Targaryen-amethyst orbs catch sight of something just a small distance away.

Upon a shock of ivory tresses sat a crown of wildflowers, from colors such as cornflower blue to dandelion yellow, it all contrasted yet complemented the snowy strands.

He feels his heart lodge itself in his throat as he’s beholden to a fair maid of obvious Valyrian heritage, but it is not her blood that stokes the fire within his. Rather, simply being graced with her mere visage is enough for visions of silvery-white-haired babes to dance within his head.

And for the first time ever since he dreamed of one day securing the Iron Throne for himself, he did not see a king’s crown upon his brow but instead a crown of flowers.

Daemon takes his first steps, eager to know you and perhaps what sorcery you cast that had bewitched him so swiftly and easily that he can no longer even think back on the time before he knew of your existence.

When he is at a fair distance, he takes note of the wondrous gold that shines within the depths of your eyes and the pale white lush crescents that surround them and kiss your cheeks every time you blink. He feels like a madman so consumed with the need to hear your voice, to know your name, and to have your gaze solely on himself.

But then a large shadow appeared, and the sound of a mighty wingbeat snapped him out of his daze, head snapping up towards the source only to find coal-black scales and menacing green eyes rapidly descended.

Dread filled the Targaryen prince as his instincts had him tackling you away from where he perceived to be the Cannibal’s target. He has no time to relish the softness of your skin and body beneath his, not when the instinct to survive overridden all other thought processes.

Caraxes won’t be able to reach them in time, so he would have to distract the infamous Cannibal somehow until his own mount reached them. His sword hand instinctively gripped Dark Sister as the earth rumbled with the wild dragon’s footsteps as it landed.

“ Don’t. ”

It’s the first time he hears your voice, and it is as soft and melodic as he expected it to be. What he didn’t expect was for you to push him away gently with a hand so small and dainty that he could crush it in his own if he wanted.

But then you stand up, dusting off blades of grass that stuck to your odd but fine garments before walking straight toward the lumbering Cannibal.

“My lady—” Daemon’s plea dies down as he watches you place your hand upon the wild dragon’s snout, giving it a rub and then moving downwards to scratch at his chin.

Everything the prince knew about dragons, especially the Cannibal of all dragons, is thrown straight into the Narrow Sea as the creature’s tail…wags and thumps against the ground. For something as big as the Cannibal, its movements caused small tremors across the small clearing.

“He’s a good boy. He’s not going to hurt anyone.”

Daemon is completely and absolutely stumped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

King’s Landing only receives a missive from Prince Daemon of his apparent nuptials all the way in Lys. The court learns that he’d found another descendant of Old Valyria, a maiden from Aurion’s line who’d conquered Lys, burned its magisters and slavers, and released its slaves.

However, word across the Narrow Sea arrives not long after that verifies the prince’s claims. The pair had settled into the grandest manse within the city, which now no longer relied on the selling and trading of flesh. The lady had seen to it that it would become a fully mercantile city-state, providing education to all, regardless of their backgrounds.

Former slaves and courtesans were also given a craft to learn and trade with, allowing them to acclimate as normal citizens of Lys, free to live their lives as they saw fit.

The news is both frightening and awing to hear.

Lys’ growing success and the union of Prince Daemon and his Valyrian conqueror wife alarmed much of the Small Council, particularly Lord Hightower. At his urging, Viserys I commanded his brother to return at once.

However, his command would not be heeded until 105 AC, when Lady Lucifiel would inevitably save the life of Queen Aemma and the newborn Prince Baelon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can’t you stay for longer?”

“We would love to stay longer, but if we do Lys might not be standing by the time we return. You know those Essosi, always trying to one-up each other and grabbing someone else’s territory when they already have a perfectly good city already. Honestly, if they keep knocking at our doors so frequently, we might as well conquer the rest of them just to get all the cities to get along. It’s like trying to play peacemaker with a bunch of children if you ask me…”

“Let’s save any talk of conquering the other city-states when we get back home, at the very least, my darling flower. Lest we spook the court any more than we already have when your lumbering beast decided to make its surprise grand entrance in front of the whole court.”

“Abraxas has never had venison or wild boar, so you can’t blame him for being a little bit curious over all the fuss that was happening during the hunt.”

Rhaenyra looked back and forth between her uncle and good aunt, stars practically shining in her eyes at all the words that spilled from your lips. Baby Endaemion babbled and clapped as he looked over at his older cousin, comfortable and very happy as you held him in your arms.

There’s truly nothing like the warmth of family.

#lexsssu writes #A Song of Ice and Fire #asoiaf #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #reader insert #flufftober 2022 #cross posted on ao3

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lforlimbo · 6 months

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She is all there. She was melted carefully down for you and cast up from your childhood, cast up from your one hundred favorite aggies. She has always been there, my darling. She is, in fact, exquisite. Fireworks in the dull middle of February and as real as a cast-iron pot. Let's face it, I have been momentary. vA luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor. My hair rising like smoke from the car window. Littleneck clams out of season. She is more than that. She is your have to have, has grown you your practical your tropical growth. This is not an experiment. She is all harmony. She sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy, has placed wild flowers at the window at breakfast, sat by the potter's wheel at midday, set forth three children under the moon, three cherubs drawn by Michelangelo, done this with her legs spread out in the terrible months in the chapel. If you glance up, the children are there like delicate balloons resting on the ceiling. She has also carried each one down the hall after supper, their heads privately bent, two legs protesting, person to person, her face flushed with a song and their little sleep. I give you back your heart. I give you permission - for the fuse inside her, throbbing angrily in the dirt, for the bitch in her and the burying of her wound - for the burying of her small red wound alive - for the pale flickering flare under her ribs, for the drunken sailor who waits in her left pulse, for the mother's knee, for the stocking, for the garter belt, for the call - the curious call when you will burrow in arms and breasts and tug at the orange ribbon in her hair and answer the call, the curious call. She is so naked and singular She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid. As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.

#photography #poetry #annesexton #self #bruised #canon #blur #oof #belly #stomach #stormach #ursaminor #lforlimbo #back

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eddywoww · 1 year

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This is so random but I’ve been thinking about my family a lot (while watching succession too) and I can’t relate to being fuck me rich but my god I can relate to a four piece sibling family who canNOT express affection for shit

I mean there’s four of us and none of us hug. One time my brother called me a bitch and then randomly lifted me off the ground in a hug and that was his version of Sorry and honestly I preferred that over an actual apology. My sister likes to verbally apologize because she’ll feel bad until she does and I’ve told her countless times that I’d rather die.

One time I ran to my sisters in the rain, crying my head off over something and she didn’t know how to comfort me because none of us know how to comfort each other. But we still have ways?? Like if we see something that we know each other will like, we buy it. We make crafts for each other, we share tv shows and music.

My family jokes that I’m the least emotional of all of them (when I ironically cry so much) they used to call me Red Foreman (from that 70s show) because of my total lack of outward emotion. It’s hurt me before, this image they have of me being a mean person who can’t express myself enough. Now I realize that I’m actually doing better these days.

And that I’m not a product of a lack of emotion at all but rather a product of anger.

I think I’m the only person in my family who has never punched a hole in a wall. The one time I tried, I almost broke my hand. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t help because hurting other things, hurting other people didn’t help me. So I stuck to hurting myself, physically or mentally.

Because I was and am a product of anger but when you watch that anger get cast around to other people, sometimes you don’t want to continue to do that. Especially when people think you’re mean. Especially when you’re not particularly maternal and you have to spend years with people accusing you of being cold and hating kids and not being nice enough to people or not smiling enough or not saying the right things, always saying the wrong things. You’re too rude, you’re too brash, don’t cry in front of people but if you do, make sure they know it’s for the right reasons.

All this to say, I love my family. I do. But there’s skeletons on top of skeletons in barely closed closets and I don’t even want to dig into those graves and try to unearth half the shit that has happened or been done. Because my mom once looked at me and said “Please, don’t break my heart.” And so I shut my mouth and didn’t say anything else.

I’m a product of anger and that’s fine. I don’t have to be angry anymore. Letting go of my anger for my family is helping me, I think. Talking about it is helping. Realizing that I don’t have to be anything that anyone else wants me to be is helping.

#tw self harm #tw anger issues #essays on feelings #this is random and weird bc it’s 5 am and I’m in pain lmao and thinking about my brothers and my sister

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skiplo-wave · 7 months

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Castlevania Nocturn

Pretty good series starting off with new cast of characters or this case new Belmont, speakers, etc

For 8 episodes everything flowed pretty well. Pacing felt better than season 3. Mostly everyone got good amount of screentime. Mostly

I say weakest character would be Erzabet. She's cool and all. Love me evil fucked up Milfs that know they can take whatever. But imo she feels like a secondary Camila. Ironic we never see her Drolta, and Erzabet in same room M A N. Anyway kinda more seens of her hyping up just how powerful she is. Cause as viewer the devour of sunligh is a myth and we didn't see anything to say " Oh shit she's a threat" Like it kinda just happens? Plus Orlox and Drolta really carried the bad bitch villain without breaking a sweat.

We're getting nocturn season 2 and writers strike over if script wasn't already written prior. Erzabet get more time to shine and oof her and Vampire Mommy Tera 😳 Very surprised Abott lived which means his bums ass gonna get some redeemption arc or Tera just eats his ass lol. King Alucard is back which seeing Richter reaction guess he wasn't too inolved with Belmonts :'( My mans watch his polycue die. Can't wait see him bounce off Richter tho :') Oh and Juste too, aint no way that old gdilf aint coming back to help his grandson.

Oh I hope Edouard gets his time to shine too besides singing his little heart out. Best boi building an army of revolution Issac would be proud.

Looking forward to season two, more monster design and hot vampires especially if they poc like hot damn how they gonna design someone even hotter than Drolta and Orlox????

9/10 give it a watch. 8 episodes all 30 minutes long you barely notice it's 30 minutes each episode

#castlevania nocturne #skip reviews

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joyofkinoko · 2 years

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My Cross to Bear | twenty five (787 words)

The Budget Ghostbusters are called in to investigate the allegedly haunted Gom Theatre in Seoul, and you are a rising actress cast in the latest show, ironically “the Phantom of the Opera”. With both the spirits of the theatre and the critics of the industry down your throat and out for your blood, you find your only comfort in Choi Beomgyu, the sweetheart YouTube cameraman.

.: coworkers to lovers .:. female reader .:. fluff, hurt/comfort, paranormal :.

.: tw: paranormal elements, mature language, near-death experiences :.

.: masterlist .:. budget ghostbusters :.

When you had received the call from the Gom Theatre’s casting director that you were cast as Christine in their new production of Phantom of the Opera, you never could have predicted that things would go like this. You’d previously heard the rumors about the building - that people have heard voices, seen things move on its’ own, and more, but who were you to say that ghosts were real?

Christine was your first chance at playing the lead role. It was supposed to be perfect, your chance to shine.

On the show’s opening night, after three months of grueling rehearsals and an unexpected leg injury, things began wonderfully. Yunjin’s been a reliable star in the scene for a while now, Sunghoon’s an actor that’s been getting love calls from movie directors, and Nicholas is Seoul’s theatre scene’s new favorite pretty boy. And your scenes? Phenomenal, if you do say so yourself.

Your extra rehearsals within the past week definitely benefitted you, but regardless, you had always been born for the stage.

This was your calling.

At the very least, you were living your dreams alongside your best friends, with a certain boy sitting somewhere in the crowd.

Despite all that’s happened recently, you are still here.

The audience tonight is packed to the brim, with regular theatregoers, a group of critics, fellow actors and directors in the scene, and you think you may have seen a few people who were wearing BGB merch. The joint promotion was certainly beneficial.

The first act ends beautifully, with Sunghoon as the Phantom swearing revenge and the chandelier prop dropping over the floor seats in the audience as planned. It’s a terrifying, yet signature moment of the show, and you and your cast and crew are beyond grateful that it went as planned - spark effects flying and all.

During the intermssion, you and DK watch as the crew raises the chandelier prop back up again from the stage wings. He gives you a proud smile, and you know you’ve made it.

Ghost forgotten.

“You’re eating it up bitch!” you turn and see Yunjin smiling widely at you. “Someone else thinks so too,” she winks, handing you your phone.

Gyubie 👻😩 8:56pm

so fucking proud of you. kai and jun bawled their eyes out already lmfao.

You send him a simple heart emoji in return, wanting to keep yourself focused on the show before letting the boy get too much into your head.

You like Choi Beomgyu. So much.

Too much, if you were being honest with yourself. When he’d rejected you, it did hurt a little, but you forced yourself to get over it quickly in order to be able to keep him in your life as a friend. You like him too much to let everything end here.

Even with your injury healed, the end of the contract, and the beginning of the show, you told yourself you would do all you could to keep Beomgyu in your life. Even if it was just as a friend. He’s worth it.

The second act begins just as splendidly as the first, especially with how all of you have now adjusted to performing the show.

“Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” was your big second act solo performance, standing alone on stage, singing your ballad with the fog machine’s effects and a spotlight. Your voice echoed throughout the theatre, tears welling up in your eyes out of both the melancholy atmosphere of the scene and your own sense of overwhelming anxiety from the show tonight.

But alas, with everything going smoothly, the ghost of Gom Theatre decided to strike back.

You were in the middle of the second verse, when suddenly you heard a series of clicking sounds behind you. It was loud enough that they echoed throughout the theatre. Trying to keep calm, you continued singing, making subtle eye contact with the conductor of the orchestra in the pit who looked just as nervous as you about whatever technical difficulties must have been happening back stage.

By the beginning of the next chorus, you had to stop yourself from coughing, the faux fog drowning you out on stage as the clicking sounds increased.

And all at once, a fire erupts behind you as the chandelier prop drops uncontrollably, thankfully stopping just a few safe feet above the audience members’ heads.

You don’t remember much from here on out. You think you might have heard screams, instruments and set pieces crashing. You see the audience rushing out through the doors, illuminated by the emergency house lights flickering on. You feel a hand wrap around your wrist, but by the time you turn to see what’s going on, everything is black.

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

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#tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu #txt smau #social media au #beomgyu x reader #txt fluff

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newpotatoe · 5 months

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BITCH, BREAK IT DOWN

What do I mean when I say

He is the Love of my Life?

Let a bitch break it down:

I tremble with the Godspeak of Tinnitus at the sound of his slow, sly, silly laugh

And

Fall full to the floor with the want of his gaze

I swim and float atop the tears of missing him

And

I’m anchor down with cast iron pride in

His reverent achievements

I freeze with childlike glee

When he calls

And

I melt with a hot buttered heart

When he embraces a child, a spinster or a

Person less fortunate

His mind is my touchstone

I cling to its capacity

I thrive in its thicket

His body is incendiary 🔥

My big D — my TNT💥

Blowing my ass up

To the boundless sky

His heart is my charge

To nest and protect

No matter the cost to my own

That privilege may exact

He is my true love

My calling; my joy and

Wonderment

His first look into my eyes

Will quench my lifetime of thirst

For an elixir called Home

Because he Is and Evermore

The Love of my Life

###

#short prose #writeblr #poetry #literature #romance #love story #distant love #love poem #unrequited love #love poetry #love of my life

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hollowboobtheory · 1 year

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Fic ask! 50, 30, 35, 69 (nice), 58

ask game

50 - How would you describe your writing style?

that writing style analyzer thing said i write like chuck palahniuk the fight club guy and i cannot verify that bc i have not read fight club. but i believe it. generally i'd say unhinged. hubris. moody. brooding. chaotic. ironic. i think 2022 was a really big year of artistic growth for me with honing my writing style.

30 - How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

uh yes i edit as i write bc i have no way to guarantee i will remember the editing thought i had later. how much i edit after the fact tends to vary. so far with ggae i'm just shitting it out and then immediately uploading it not even catching my breath first lol. but with TPG i've actually been editing every chapter fairly intensely. like i had that kinda alternating writing two chapters ahead thing going on for awhile just to make my editing better.

35 - What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

TPG is my baby. i may have taken a break but she is my main bitch. i literally got the first nine chapters printed into an actual paperback

69(nice) - What are your favorite fics at the moment?

GGG obv has its damn hooks in me. also Summer of 87. is a good fucking romcom

For the Hollywood Dream by @heysatanitsyourgirl has just started but i've got a good feel about it

Against the Kitchen Floor by @honeymuck very chaotic very unhinged i'm laughing again just remembering she really led duncan on huh. let him think she was getting hunted by the mafia or whatever. jfc. there's something deeply wrong with her.

and Wandering Heart by @the-type-a. it's glee.

58 - Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

YES. first of all there's The Pit. i like it. i'm proud of it. it's an extended metaphor that has more or less evolved into its own character and i love it.

ok but then there's this bit from the phobias chapter in TPG that i'm so damn proud of??

She won another challenge. Nobody was cheering this time. Good. All this meant was they lost another chance to get rid of the beast in their ranks. Gwen turned around and left the dining hall. The villagers cowered away from her as she stumbled outside, forming a wide circle around her. She blinked in the harsh sunlight. She was never meant to walk in the light of day.

and then

The villagers screamed and scrambled away as she blew a stream of acid in front of her, time and time again.

it's like i'm trying to evoke the old silent creature feature gwen likes but casting her in the role of the monster bc that's just how alienated and outcast she feels

i have another one planned for ggae that also is about violent movie history but applied to sex.

oh and then there was in the tri-arm chapter where i just stepped aside and wrote a poem about a circus sideshow???? fucking incredible i am SO in gwen's head.

i also like when i'm saying gwen has butterflies in her stomach but say moths instead bc that's more goth. i think it's cute. OH AND

#beck rambles #ask

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elizxbethofyork · 1 year

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a tyanna of the tower story ♛ a name to remember inspo and gifs by @queensend

warning! mature content: depictions of incest, harsh language, murder, violence, sex, death, abusive relationships, and stillbirths

She was a whore, a queen, a sorceress, and in a matter of hours she will soon be a cold corpse. Perhaps her beloved husband will mount her head on a spike, or dump her body into the sea, or maybe he will feed her to his mighty dragon. Tyanna will not pray or scheme her way out of death, for death was no stranger to her. She would not pray either for what gods will spare her for the sins she had committed. The most treacherous sin in her eyes was to love and to lust, for she was guilty of both when it came to Maegor and the power he offered. She would not scheme either, for what good did it do for her in the end, for the iron throne was lost to her and her husband, though he refused to see it. Where did it all go wrong? Was it when he wedded his three new whores, was it when he left her bed cold at night, or was it when his precious bitch of a mother died?

Tyanna clearly remembered when she first meet her good mother Queen Visenya Targaryen: the rider of Vhager and wielder of Dark Sister, conqueror, and sister-wife to Aegon the Dragon. The woman did not even bother to address her or even spare her a glance — the old cunt, only did she acknowledge her by calling her the whore. But even she cannot deny that the old woman loved her son and that she would set the world a flame for him. In the end, Visenya died alone on Dragonstone and her son’s enemies stole into the night like thieves. For that is what Alyssa Velayron and her brood were, thieves that stole Dark Sister, and like traitors who are plotting to steal her husband's crown. Tyanna still could not understand why Maegor would take his niece as a wife, let alone name her daughter his heir. He spoke of bloodlines and political advantages gained from marrying her, but she knew the truth like all Targaryens he lusted for her. She could see it in his eyes. He had married his first wife the barren bitch out of duty after being denied Rhaena, he married the whore Alys for her womb as he did the other two, Jeyne and Elinor. Why did he marry me then, why make me his queen? Was it all for love? She continuously pondered on these questions in the darkness of her cell, when she had come to realize Maegor had no love for her, only love for the power she gave him, the dark magic to the whispers of his enemy's secrets. Many would go on to claim that she was his favorite wife, if she was then why did he cause so much pain and agony? Maegor would only love himself and his mother, and perhaps even that son he so desperately desires.

Tyanna had once hoped she would be the mother of his son. To have the honor of bearing a future king and dragon rider, all for the man she loved. She recalls passionate nights of endless lust, where he would thrust vigorously into her leaving her body in utter ecstasy as well as being coated in both his seed and sweat. Then she would remember the depressing days of her moonblood and continuous desperate weeks of casting fertility spells. She is a prideful woman, but she cannot deny to herself that she was jealous when Alys announced she was pregnant. She recalls the scar on her index finger caused when she shattered her vanity mirror upon hearing the news of the pregnancy. The dread sank in when she saw the joy on Alys’s face and the booming pride in her husband’s eyes.

“It should have been my womb to take his seed! It should have been my baby boy that would become king!” she cried into the darkness.

It was in that darkness when she had made her vow with jealousy on her tongue, bitterness in her stomach, and hatred in her heart. All with an empty womb, if she cannot bring a son of Maegor’s into this world no one would. It was with that rage she poisoned Alys and the child within her womb when she extinguished the name Harroway from the history books. She remembers her sister-wife’s cries and screams and how the tears flowed as if it was rain. She also remembers looking at the babe, it was a small deformed creature that had scales and a tail as if it were a dragon. It was a monster, good she remembered thinking, Tyanna’s son will be the true dragon, the true king, and heir fit and worthy to be Maegor’s son and bear the mighty name Targaryen. Now with Alys bled and dead as well as that bitch Ceryse, Maegor was all hers. Maegor belonged to Tyanna and Tyanna alone.

She was happy, she had her crown and her husband all to herself. Happiness is an illusion, for months the shared meant nothing to him. Her warm bed had become cold.

“The price for the magic you continuously perform has left your womb both dry and barren. Though you shall remain, my loyal wife and advisor, I shall take three new brides to bed”, he told her in a cold and emotionless tone.

Maegor had never spoken to her like this before, for she was his favorite: she was the one who saved him from the hands of death, she was the one to hold him when discover his mother’s death, she was the one to torture and kill all those who plotted against them. She was ever loyal and obedient. What had she done for this betrayal? Her womb was empty. Her own body had betrayed her, allowing her husband to take this whores to their marriage bed. Let Maegor have his whores, for they will not have his babes. She remembered being witness to his new three marriages and remembers trying not to laugh. For what kind of queens would Elinor Costayne and Jeyne Westerling make? Weak ones. But she cannot say the same thing about Rhaena though. A true Targaryen princess, who from birth was raised into the role of Queen. The perfect Valyrian bride that her husband lusted for. She might of worried about the power Rhaena might have over Maegor, but when she looked at the girl she could see she had no love for her uncle. While the other two might oblige and carry Maegor’s children, she knew at that moment Rhaena would not. This girl was all Targaryen, she would rather feed herself to the dragons than carry any son of Maegor’s. In the end she was right. Jeyne and Elinor would go on to fall pregnant and like Alys before them, they shall bear Maegor only monsters. Rhaena proved to be defiant as her womb remained empty. Though her bed remained empty and cold, she would continue to hold his heart in her hands. Maegor still belonged to her and her alone.

All that changed the night Jeyne died. The whore didn't even complete her pregnancy and after six months with her husband's child in her belly, Jeyne gave birth to another dead monster. A monster that would drag its mother into the arms of death. Tyanna remembers seeing Alys’s dead babe and it was nothing compared to what Jeyne had birthed. The child, the monster, had no arms or legs and you could tell if it was a boy or a girl for it possed both a cock and a cunt. She took it too far with the poison and curses, but she justified to herself when witnessed Maegor’s attendance and showering of gifts for the pregnant whores. It should be her with child, it should be her belly Maegor protects and attends to.

In the end, Tyanna should have been more careful in her dealings, more careful with the servants, and more careful about what she wished for. Now she finds herself in the darkness and cold. The legendary black cells. A member of the king's guard had whispered into her husband's ear and told him of the potion she made Jeyne take on her wedding night. The potion that sealed the whore’s fate also sealed her own. Now she waits for the end, and though many would have wished to go back and change everything, she would not. She had no regrets, not for her actions or her love. She would repeat everything over just so she can be in Maegor’s arms. Tyanna was one of Maegor’s wives, the sorceress that saved his life and poisoned his babes, she was the woman to give him strength and power. Though her name will be scorned and feared throughout history, but hers will be a name to remember.

She saw a light in the darkness, a torch of fire. It’s time, she thought. She could hear the chainmail hitting against the metal armor of the guards. They took her by both arms and dragged her out of her cell. They threw her on top of a table and tied her arms and legs down with ropes that left her pale skin red and pink. The room was dark and lit by torches, however, it did have windows. Though she welcomed the cool night breeze, she wished for daylight, to see the blue sky once more, to feel the warmth of the sun on her face. Tyanna turned her head towards the door when she heard the low voices of the men outside. The great oak door and walked in her husband. He still looked handsome as he did on the night they met. Ironic the first moments and the last ones she shared with Maegor happened under the stars. He still was tall, strong, and stern, his lavender eyes glistening under the torch light. Though his expression was more hard and stern, he wouldn't be Maegor without it.

“Husband”, she said with a smile on her face.

He did not speak a word, his attention turned toward the men behind him. Torturers. They will be of little use for she would tell him the truth. She had nothing to hide from him. She would go to her death as an unburdened woman.

“If you wish to know something all you have to do is ask, beloved spouse”.

Maegor finally acknowledged her, he finally gave her the attention she desired. Though it was not loving it was violent and horrible, just like him, just like her. He walked toward the table and looked down at her with utter hatred and disgust, but she could not help but smile at her beloved. He placed his strong large hands around her delicate neck slowly her squeeze. She could he wanted to snap her neck, she could not blame him, she had denied him the son he was promised.

“Confess your crimes, witch. And I might so you mercy” he coldly replied. Liar, she thought. Maegor was not known for his mercy, and she had often heard him remark that mercy is for the weak, and Maegor was not weak.

“The only crime I have committed was not loving you enough. For not being enough. That you stray from my bed to others for that promised prince you desperately desire. The whispers you are true, and I confess I did it all. All in name of our love. For it should be me full of your seed. A full belly of child. It should my son that sits the iron throne after you”, as the words left her lips she witnessed as change in his eyes, for they were no longer cold but a flamed.

“So you would kill my children because you remain a barren bitch” he spatted, his spit flicking on her face.

“They are not worthy of name Targaryen. For there mothers are no better than whores, and in any case they would of been monsters. Only my son is worthy! For he is the promised king!” she said with a cruel laugh.

“And yet you have no son by me! Though I mourn those children you have murdered. I will be happy to know by son by Elinor will not face the same fate, will not know your vile poison” he said growling.

Tyanna burst in a series of laughs and Maegor frowned, “Do you really think I would allow any of your whores to birth you a son? I poisoned Jeyne, I condemned Alys to a fate worse than death, and a cursed Elinor with the same fate. As I told once before husband if you were to have a child, it would be by my womb”.

"It matters not. I still have another wife, one who has not been touched or besmirched by your poison. Rhaena will deliver the son I need, a true dragon. A true Targaryen", he said with a cruel grin on his face.

She stopped laughing when she heard those words. Was he so blind? Could he not see the love she has for him? That his bitch niece all but prayed for his death, the thought of her bearing Maegor a son — she stopped herself from thinking and her glare hardened. "For all her grace and beauty, Rhaena will never bear you a son. Not after what you did to her. She won't let herself and even if you managed to force a babe into her belly, I can assure you she will not need me. For she would gladly throw herself to the fire before she births your monster".

"Perhaps she will, perhaps she will welcome me to her bed knowing her brother's murderer die at my hand. In any case, you will not know. You will be dead by then", he mused as his fingers played at her dark raven hair.

"You forget, I may be responsible for Viserys's last breath but it was at your order. And let's not forget about dear Aegon. The husband you had slain in battle. She will never love you. And even if she mustered any sort of affection it's nothing compared to the love I bare for you. No matter how many wives or whores you take, it is I who holds your heart”. It was then her greatest desire was granted Maegor pressed his lips against hers. And when she fluttered her eyes open and stared into the lavender haze, she felt the cold steel of the blade in her heart.

“You say you have my heart, but you don't. It is I who has your heart in hand”, he whispered against her lips.

As she lay out there bleeding into the night with her final breath, she could not help but think about his words. He was right, she had never had his heart but he had hers. She would refuse to give him the satisfaction of wailing at the pain or begging for mercy. No, she will not, for she will embrace this final gift her beloved bestowed on her. And she will welcome death into her arms knowing she will be remembered. For a horrific woman had met a horrific end, and Tyanna will be a name to remember.

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sylviaplathink · 2 years

Photo

via https://phoebustattoos.com/

Phoebus Tattoos and Piercings St Pete FL. 2022

...

Today marks the 48th anniversary of Anne Sexton’s death! RIP!

(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)

...

*For My Lover, Returning To His Wife*

- Anne Sexton, in: Love Poems, 1969

#anne sexton #anne sexton tattoos #sylviaplath #annesexton #sylvia plath #for my lover returning to his wife #love poems #anne sexton poems #literary tattoos #poem tattoos #leg tattoo

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gildedgaze · 2 years

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Just want to say, thank you for your blog and fanfics....Love reading them....

If you don't mind, can I ask something from Captive Prince? What do you think are Laurent and Damen's greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Sorry if you've answered these questions before.....Thanks......

Aw this is so sweet😍 Thank you so so much for reading my work! 🥰🥰🥰

Ou, I have not yet answered these fantastic questions!

Hmmm,

I think my favourite thing about Damen is his fierce loyalty and conviction when it comes to what he considers wrong and right. I think the latter is both a weakness and strength.

His loyalty extends in so many instances; like when he chose to fight at Charcy and meet up with Laurent at the end of Prince's Gambit, beginning of King' Rising. He had every liberty to leave, but didn't. The way he professed Laurent's innocence before his trial in Ios. Such a loyal, loving man, i melt. We must recall, 'I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly' 😭🥺😩💛 SIR. I WISH A MAN IRL WOULD.

In terms of seeing situations in a sort or black and white, right/wrong, the very reason Jokaste felt the need to send him to Vere (and may i add ✨SAVE HIM✨ from Kastor) was that he refused to believe his brother was capable of such evil (Patricide), even when Nikandros insisted his brother had it out for him, and believed the throne was rightfully his. Damianos' loyalty and blinded innocence and rejection of blurred lines are my fave character traits.

What I love most about Laurent is his reputation of being frigid/cast-iron bitch, and his intelligence. Such a stellar combination if you ask me 😂✨ Of course we know his demeanour is a coping mechanism as a result of his abusive childhood, but God, do i love smooth-talkers and people who are one step ahead, most esp in the context of political intrigue. 'It was like watching a man smile as he surrendered himself to drown in deep water' IM SORRY CAN U JUST ENVISION HOW CHARMING LAURENT CAN TRULY BE IN THE CONTEXT OF COURT.

Laurent being bookish was something alluded to in book one, and I love expanding on that facet of him within my fics! I'm an avid reader and any character who loves reading, i usually love too!! 📚💛

Ugh and their dynamic, where to start??? I think their biggest appeal as a pairing is the way that they're such opposites, and as they say, opposites attract. Pacat has taken the concept of 'enemies to lovers' and turned it on its head!! If you really think about it, it is crazily illicit to find yourself in love with the person who murdered such an integral figure in your life, a brother. That illicitness makes their dynamic so delicious and appealing, it’s like, their history is so messy but that’s what makes it also beautiful...

Also, there's another wonderful post floating around here on Tumblr which addresses the way that Damen can have sex with many people and not get emotionally invested, while Laurent, of course, is the opposite. When I first read the series, I found that there was something about reading their sex scenes which feel almost uncomfortably intimate, like I was watching in one something I shouldn't, because of Laurent's pure vulnerability.

GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! 😭😭

Thanks for asking me this, my lovely!

(My inbox is always open to chat about capri xx)

#captive prince #cs pacat #gildedgaze #asks

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fleetingfigures · 2 years

Text

FFXIVWrite 2022 - Day 2: Bolt

The Summer’s heat wanes as day gives way to dusk, a hazy moonlight cast upon all who still found themselves wandering the streets of Shirogane. Some would take this as a sign to head inside, to rest and relax after a long day’s work, but for others, their day has just started. Ironically, Keeper he may be, Saerno wishes he could belong to the latter, just without that whole long day’s work thing. Who knew that a tipsy suggestion for Lucio to simply ‘make his own fucking library’ would actually pan out… And who knew that he’d get roped into being something of a co-owner too? It’s even Sharlayan-affiliated to boot - Saerno despises that place (allegedly), and yet here he is. Crazy how life works, huh? Though, for as much as he bitches and moans, for as much as he says he wishes he could be anywhere but here in this moment, deep down, maybe he did actually find himself filling the role quite nicely. ‘Loremaster’ does have a nice ring to it, does it not? No matter how long he's been on the non-existent, totally fabricated for the sake of being contrarian, fence about this whole thing, there was exactly one thing he despised deeply: investor meetings.

Lucio? Yeah, Saerno supposes he just adores the dude, lets him have a few slices of the cheesecake (that he totally didn’t make the viera bake for him), but he uhh… Great heart, not the best business acumen. Were he to be the sole-runner of this place, Saerno’s almost positive they’d be bankrupt, but hey, they’d have a snazzy fountain and some priceless ornamental koi at least. But fish don’t exactly pay the bills, or get you out of debt for that matter, hence why the Keeper’s taken it upon himself to handle a good chunk of these matters. Yes it may be voluntary, yes it might be in the best interest of everyone affiliated with Archeia Symvolis, but by the swiving Twelve, he’s sure to snap at some point. And tonight? Tonight just might be that point. But there’s more at stake here than just his sanity; he’s part of a legitimate organization with employees and mercenaries that actually answer to his authority. Were things to go belly-up just because he couldn’t suck down every swear in the book before it was loosed from his lips… He’d probably want to die all over again.

“Now, Okuyama-san,” The Miqo’te speaks softly as he rounds the lip of his desk, his words as gentle as the grasp around the two glasses he’s holding, “ I assure you, those reports of ‘exploding beaches’ were quite exaggerated. As you can see, we’re an institution that specializes in the containment and study of exceedingly rare items, both aetherial or mundane in nature.” Seeing his companion’s brow unwind slightly, the Keeper takes the small victory and pushes his advantage, offering a smile alongside a freshly poured spot of wine, “Would it not make sense that we’d have to perform controlled tests every once in a while? Our neighbors may have been wary of our actions, but speaking from experience, if it were truly out of hand, wouldn’t it make sense to keep such a thing out of the public eye?”

“Yes, it would, though… Even with such information, it does little to assuage my concerns. The ‘priceless collection of goods and information’ that Kubo-san had detailed to me is hardly shown to me now outside of some menial paperwork, a few expeditions, and a controlled explosion on Hingan soil.”

Doubts were to be expected, but if Saerno hadn’t planned for such a scenario, then he’d be a second-rate negotiator. Taking a furtive sip from his glass, he reclines against the unlit hearth. “Well that’s because most of the truly ‘priceless’ information we contain is confidential, much like how our affiliates in Sharlayan like to handle operations. Though, if you must see at least one tangible piece to put your doubts to rest, then I suppose I can fetch something from our restricted section. It will only take me a moment, but-”

Saerno’s words are cut off as a chill runs down his spine, his ears perking nearly instantaneously. He wasn’t doing anything, and Okuyama-san made no such efforts on his part, so why, then, did he feel that telltale thinning of aether, the kind that comes right before-

SNAP.

…A cast, and a lightning-aspected one to boot, the thunderclap of which has also roused Saerno’s guest out of his recline. He didn’t account for this, he didn’t- Ah, wait, he can taste it upon the very air, that lingering aetherial register.

“Does lightning always strike so close to your abode, Glista-san?”

With another forced smile, the summoner can only shake his head. “No, no it doesn’t, but I suppose our star has a habit of making itself none every once in awhile, huh?” It’s a poor joke, in his own opinion, but Okuyama seems to think otherwise.

“That it does, that it does. Now, you were speaking of this forbidden section, yes? If you need some time to fetch something for me, I can wait here - I know you bookish types are not wont to making others privy to your entire collection.”

“Yes, yes I was,” An easy out, Saerno will definitely take it, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll only be a few minutes or so.”

Flashing his fangs, the Miqo’te dips into a bow before opening the door and closing it behind him - it doesn’t take long for the smile to fade, nor for him to hone in on the aetherial source from before. He swears, can anything in this damned place operate smoothly for once? If it’s not the building itself, it’s the officials, if it’s not the officials, it’s the students, if it’s not the students, then it’s the people that ‘work’ here, and Saerno, in this moment, most definitely knows who is to blame in the moment - there’s only one other Keeper in this damned place that’s stupid enough to fire off lightning in the middle of a fucking glorified library.

“But you’re the one who hired her.”

Yes, but-

“You’ve had multiple opportunities to let her go, have had countless showings as to how ineffective she is.”

Okay, but on the other hand-

“You’re tiring yourself, looking after a child in a woman’s body. It’s miserable to see.”

Enough.

With a shake of his head, the Keeper picks up his pace, bolting down the hallway, through the main hall doors, and eventually stumbling upon the scene he could all but imagine on his way here. Something’s burnt, terribly so; his other hire, Beau, is frazzled, presumably due to the spike in ambient aether. Last but not least is her, Altria, the Miqo’te’s ears pinning back near instantaneously once ‘Boss’ arrives on the scene, her eyes almost as wide as her mouth as it hangs slackjaw. It doesn’t take long for her to notice that last bit, her mouth now flopping up and down like the carp she so enjoyed inside the pond.

“I-I-… Uhh… H-Hey Mista Glista! How are you tonight? Great weath- I mean it’s like REALLY weird outside, like, you should check it out. Heat lightning and all that struck real darn close, right, Beau?”

Said Viera simply shakes his head. “No, it’s clear outside, and it’s not good to lie to our ‘Boss’, especially not after the last time.”

“O-okay, well that was a special case, you see, like… It’s not everyday that you see a goobue doing that, you know?”

Saerno can only heave a sigh as he picks up the ashes covering the floor, sweeping them into his hand and disposing of them in a nearby bin. He knows how much she hates hearing him sigh, feeling the waves of disappointment emanate off of him like a foul stench, but what else could he do besides this? She's infuriating sometimes, so much to handle with how little energy he has in comparison and yet... And yet he hasn't done anything about it. He still pays her, he still tutors her, he still, well, he still puts up with her despite everything. He supposes he has a weakness for stuff like this; his mom always said he had a knack for teaching. And well...

With another sigh, and a single pat on her head, Saerno leans in close. "The damages and replacement are coming out of your check. Also I can't believe I have to say this, but Altria, for the love of Menphina, don't-... Why- Lightning? Really? I don't know what possessed you to do as such, but if you do something similar again, I'm going to have Beau become the expeditionary leader from here on out."

...He supposes he can see a bit of himself in her; Vihya'li that is, not Saerno, not Glista-san, or Mista Glista. And at the end of the day, with ashes staining marble, and investors still waiting for a mythical item from the restricted section to be retrieved, that's a fact that's likely to stand the test of time... And bite him in the ass continuously, of course. He just hopes he won't be struck by a bolt out of the blue, courtesy of her, in the coming future.

- - -

Inspired by another friend's piece of IC writing! Decided to do a brief follow-up for this year's challenge!

#ffxiv #dyeing melodies #FFxivWrite2022 #I can't believe how Sae started #and now he's kinda just become an exhausted dad

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aspiringsophrosyne · 1 year

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Episode 4: Those Who Walk Away

There's a long line at the concession stand. Think you can get something before the show starts? Traffic was pretty bad.

Because trust me, you don't want to miss the beginning of this one.

The Good.

There's no end to the praise Liam O'Brien deserves just for the first couple of minutes of the episode. I knew what was coming; how devastating it would be for these characters and how painful it would be for them all.

Especially for Vax.

And still. Still. Vax's desperate "Somebody do something!!" stabbed me right in the goddamned heart. And the delivery of his line to the Queen of Death, the one that every critter who watched Campaign one knows, the words that changed Vax's destiny forever...perfect.

The visuals for the ritual were really cool, too. It was hard to imagine how they would communicate what was happening in the show; as in the stream it was down to dice rolls and rituals. The gold dome over Vex, the Queen's claw piercing it and then causing it to shatter....it calls up dread from the deepest pit of your heart.

And then Vax just having the armor on when they turn around...quick, efficient and spooky as hell. Very good move there.

Those shots of the Calamity in the vision. My God. For the record, and I touched on this before, I love that the peeks we've gotten into that period of Exandria's history have been broad and unspecific. They are meant to be grandiose to mind-bending proportions, and you can ironically lose that effect by trying too hard to get that idea across. It also leaves the impression that as big and crazy as this all looks, what we've seen (Osysa's story in S2E2 and now Vax's vision) is only the tip of the iceberg.

I like that Purrvan got to shine a bit here. Partially this is because I can sympathize with Matt over that name; (Vox Machina's reaction to it was pretty much the cast's in the stream) and also because it makes sense. Funny name or not, the Matron doesn't hire chumps. In the watch-along for this episode, the cast mentioned that they originally had Matt record grunts, sounds of effort, and reactions to getting hit...and then decided the scene was more striking without them. It was a good call. It gets across just how beyond Vax this former Champion is. And it foreshadows just how formidable a being Vax will one day become.

As I've said before and will say again, titmouse knows how to do a good fight scene. I was surprised the monster was savvier than it looked, angling its tentacles around Keyleth's obstacles to get at her and Percy. Some damn good lines here too. Pike's understandable exasperation ("Son of a bitch!") and Percy's testy incredulousness ("Oh, just petrified!?") are incredibly relatable.

Perhaps the scene only feels this way to me because of hindsight, but Vax's acceptance feels like a crown being placed on a head under a guillotine.

I didn't immediately realize what they had done with the Deathwalker's Ward. I had honestly forgotten what it did: aside from its most obvious perk, which we'll see in a future episode. In the game, it's mostly a defensive item. Ironic: a Death Goddess's artifact that made it harder for you to die. But what they did in the show was combine it with another magic item Vax had, the boots of haste, which the twins fought over incessantly. They let him cast haste on himself without having that spell, and with it, he could haul ass like a motherfucker.

This allows us a demonstrative visual for the ward's power-up, and it gets those boots in the show without them being in it. Plus, the ability they grant fits Vax as a speedy, stealthy guy.

Not only that, but it also shows us in very little time just why Osysa sent Vox Machina after these things. Seeing the whole crew get trashed by this monster, only for Vax to take it down alone, cements how powerful the Vestiges are and how essential they'll be in defeating the Chroma Conclave. Another great use of show-don't-tell.

And that shot. That shot. Reactors and the cast alike can't help but cheer when That Shot happens, where Vax leaps into the air and is framed by the Matron's mural above him before he delivers the final blow. Like Liam O'Brien's acting, I can't say enough good things about that shot. It looks cool, but it also has weight; it suggests that Vax has taken his place as a figure in history who will have murals in temples dedicated to him that other adventurers will stumble upon one day.

The new implementation of the necklace is clever. It makes sense a bounty hunter would have something like it. And Wil get's one more good line out before he and Zahra exit.

The Bad. (Or at least not great.)

You're hot, then you're cold.

Zahra is the one to vocally oppose Vex's attempted resurrection. This contrasts her with Kash, who leaps right in to try to help when Pike's efforts don't work. This behavior comes across as somewhat inconsistent.

Zahra was the one who had a personal relationship with Vex, even if it ended badly. Zahra was the one who supported and saved Vex in the battle with the Adaro, even if it was at least partially to show her up.

I could see Zahra cautioning both Kash and Vox Machina that what he's trying to do for Vex has a minuscule chance of succeeding. Or even warning Kash against it for fear of drawing Vesh's attention. (Vesh is Kash's goddess, and she is bad fucking news.) But Zahra just unemotionally writing off Vex as dead and declaring it useless to try to help her seems disproportionally cold compared to how she'd acted up to that point.

No Drama is Better Than Bad Drama?

Previously, I was pleasantly surprised to see the Take included at all, let alone so well integrated into The Legend of Vox Machina's story. Likewise, Zahra and Kash were a delight, and the passion for their characters comes just as strong through Mary's and Will's performances as it does for the rest of the voice acting cast.

But the Onlooker fight is where the momentum stalls.

Zahra specifically says this to Kash after Grog is petrified:

Kash: Shit.

Zahra: Would you relax? As soon as they're restrained, I swipe the armor, you unfreeze your new friends, and we get the hell out of here.

So we have a clear scheme here. Let the Onlooker turn Vox Machina to stone, steal the Deathwalker's Ward from Vax, de-petrify everyone, then book it.

As far as plots to steal an artifact go, it's pretty tame and harmless. It probably wouldn't have even worked because after Vox Machina was restored, they would've been pretty pissed about the theft, and then it would've been a two-on-seven fight. One on seven, if Kash decided he wasn't on Zahra's side.

But as the battle continued, more of the other group succumbed, and Kash got upset and said he wouldn't be a party to Zahra's plan.

...Why?

Later, after Vax Awakens the Deathwalker's Ward, Kash says this to him:

Kash: Look, I'm sorry. We didn't mean for any of this to happen, I swear.

Yes, you did!! You absolutely did. Or at least Zahra did. That was her whole plan.

The script treats the fight like an escalation from what Zahra planned. That her recklessness and stubbornness let things get out of her control. That she put Vox Machina in danger.

By every indication, that is not what happened.

Things were going exactly as planned before she tried to put the monster back in her necklace on Kash's objections, and Vax Awakened the armor.

Not only that, but Vox Machina would've been perfectly fine if everything had gone the way she'd wanted. They would've been rightfully pissed that their Vestige was stolen, but they would've been unharmed otherwise once Kash restored them.

The crew said in the Q&A that they wanted this monster fight to have more drama than its stream counterpart. I like drama. But I'm most satisfied with drama when it makes sense. When it's consistent with what we're seeing and hearing on screen. What I'm not impressed by is a drama that's introduced for the sake of it and thus ill-conceived and ill-implemented. That brings nothing to the table.

This isn't the first time the script of The Legend of Vox Machina was at odds with what we were actually seeing or had seen on screen. And sadly, it won't be the last time this season.

A Question of Motivation.

Something else harms the deployment of the monster. Beyond the disconnection between what's happening and what is said, Zahra's motivations, or lack thereof, hold things back.

Zahra's clearly irritated that Osysa told Vox Machina about the Ward instead of anyone at the Take, but how does this motivate her? Is she acting out of envy? Greed? Worry? A sense of responsibility? A feeling of betrayal? Her old bitter feelings about Vex? Does she feel Vox Machina could be worthy of the Vestige, but she won't accept that unless she sees it for herself? Or all of the above?

We'll probably see Kash and Zahra again. And future episodes could shed some light on this. But as of this episode, it's hard to tell how you're supposed to feel about her, the fight, and Vox Machina more or less letting her and Kash off the hook after. We can guess how she's feeling, but it isn't made explicit, so we don't know why she does what she does or whether or not we're supposed to find her actions understandable or sympathetic.

Here are two possible ways I think they could've done it better.

Option A, have Zahra announce to Vox Machina that although they found the Vestige, one of them would've died getting it if it wasn't for Kash (as far as those two know). The others will be similarly hard to get, and even if they manage to get them through pure dumb luck the way they got this first one, that doesn't mean they're worthy of them. Vestiges are incredibly powerful and dangerous; they shouldn't go to just any bumble fucks. So they must pass one last test to keep the Deathwalker's Ward.

And then Onlooker.

This approach makes for a smoother transition, firmly establishes Zahra and Kash's priorities and motivations, and gives the audience and Vox Machina a chance to understand their perspective. Because once we see Vax Awaken the Vestige and take the monster that had petrified the rest of the team down all by himself...we can understand why Zahra and Kash were trepidatious about letting someone outside the Take walk away with this thing.

And when Zahra and Kash see Vax do that, they relent, heal the others, and admit he's worthy to wield it.

Option B, we could've had the thing just be there like it was in the stream. But, we could have had Zahra and Kash be involved in its ambush of Vox Machina in another way. After the Adaro fight, while they're by themselves, the two mention that the fish people usually don't gather together unless they've got something bigger than themselves to latch onto. Similar to remoras and sharks. We could even add an image of the Onlooker drawn in the fresh blood from earlier for foreshadowing. But the two keep that to themselves; the monster attacks and everything plays out like in option A.

Nitpicks

Let's look at Vex's line at the beginning of the episode.

Vex: Whatever happens...it's out of our control.

For anyone, for Vex, and especially for a kid, the line feels unnatural. In fact, it's obvious she says this not necessarily because it's in character but to set up Vax's Awakening of the armor later.

And you could argue that someone who didn't know what would happen wouldn't feel that way, but people will watch this show more than once. On a re-watch, a newbie might feel similarly.

While we could change the line, we might not even need one here. Just have Vax flashback to the twins and the bear while he's fighting Purrvan, only with him in the place of the mother bear with his young sister's hand soothing his cheek and his younger self's dagger at his throat. That gets across exactly how Vax's feeling in an instant with no dialogue at all, and it informs his letting go.

~~~

Instead of this at the end of the episode:

Vex: And what about my debt to the Slayer's Take?

Zahra: What debt?

I like something like this better:

Vex: And what about my debt to the Slayer's Take?

Zahra: Well, you did say you wanted to speak to Osysa because of four incredibly wealthy dragons didn't you? You better not fail in slaying them, then.

Zahra basically going put up or shut up here. You said you wanted a Vestige to kill dragons? Well, go kill some dragons. But it's not unkind, as it shows that now she thinks they might actually mean to try, and they actually might even have a shot at succeeding.

That's episode 4 down. It's only getting more interesting from here folks.

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