#when I think about it I feel like I am not good enough in embroidery

[eggluverz]

STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader

CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!! 

WORD COUNT. 5,332

SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?

SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :> 

“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow. 

It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared. 

As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”

He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion. 

“Beautiful.”

You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”

“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”

You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors. 

“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”

“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”

Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face. 

You pouted. “Hey!”

“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”

“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”

“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”

“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.” 

“And mine, yours.”

Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s. 

Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity. 

You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs. 

No, that was nothing. 

Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.

That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that. 

Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having. 

Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through. 

Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him. 

But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again. 

The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day. 

He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”

You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course. 

Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up. 

If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away. 

“Y/N…” 

You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”

Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?” 

“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.” 

He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars. 

Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.

“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly. 

Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”

“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?” 

You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”

“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”

Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you? 

You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody. 

And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself. 

And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free. 

It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng. 

And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of. 

This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.

Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.

He knew what he had to do.

Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Where are they?” 

Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning? 

Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.

“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”

“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”

With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time. 

“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself. 

His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”

Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.” 

“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.” 

He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do? 

He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.

The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined. 

It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation. 

You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future. 

Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.

Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life. 

Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.

He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters. 

Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul. 

“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.” 

You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.

“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.

“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.” 

You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.” 

Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.” 

“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased. 

You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.

“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?” 

He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”

At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.

“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.” 

“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.” 

He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”

You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin. 

“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments. 

While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions. 

He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him. 

“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”

Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant. 

You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”

He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you. 

“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”

You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”

He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing. 

“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”

“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”

You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”

“From my dreams.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless. 

“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”

With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”

He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”

You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”

“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”

“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”

Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.

“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”

He tilted his head to the side. 

“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?” 

“You sound ridiculous.” 

His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth. 

“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”

Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body. 

“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”

Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”

“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”

His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”

You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself. 

Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever? 

After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.” 

He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. 

With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison. 

“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”

Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”

“I understand.” 

You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly. 

“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response. 

“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.” 

You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”

Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.” 

The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person. 

“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”

Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.” 

Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”

You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”

At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket. 

“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.” 

He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest. 

“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”

It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you. 

Instead, it was a white peony. 

You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white. 

#honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan feng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #dan heng #dan feng #hsr fanfiction #hsr imagines #dan heng imagines #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #hsr x y/n #hsr x you

[milkywaydrabbles]

kinktober 25 with rindou!!! 🔛🔝 kanto manji uniform

A/N: Honestly Rindou in uniform brain go brr. I am a firm believer that 18/19 year old Rindou is an obnoxious show off, fluffing his feathers up whenever he can. Cocky little shit in this fic and I'm into it. I hope you like it!! Mwuah!!

Uniform x Haitani Rindou

Your head was pounding. The bright light of your computer making you miserable--you’ve been trying to study the same material for the last three hours, and you were growing tired of trying. You thought if you kept looking at the screen your head would combust. It was time to take a break. Stretching your arms over your head, you felt all the joints release a crack that had you groaning. Looking around you realized you were the only one left in the library of your university. At least in your general area. Looking down at your phone you realized not only was it well into the evening but you had three missed phonecalls from your boyfriend. ‘Shit’. You gathered your things as quickly as you could into your bag and slung it over your shoulder before giving him a call back. It only rung once. 

‘Jesus Christ would it kill you to pick up the phone?’ He sounded annoyed but you knew better than to think it wasn’t him just masking it to not show how worried he really was about you. ‘Thought I was gonna have to fuck some people up to find you’ You rolled your eyes, smiling as he spoke. Always so dramatic.

“Sorry, Rin, I was in the library and I lost track of time. I have that big test coming up you know? Just want to be prepared.” You sighed, thinking that when you got back to your dorm you should try studying some more, even if it’s another part of the curriculum. There was never enough time to digest all the information your shitty ass professors wanted you to learn but somehow you needed to figure it out. ‘You’re stressing yourself out too much, just relax babe.’  You snorted on the line, biting your tongue. As if the amount of times your gang affiliated boyfriend knocking on your student housing apartment covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his didn’t stress you out. “Yeah yeah, I’m heading home now though, stay on the phone with me?” ‘ Of course, baby.’

-

You’d gotten off the phone with Rindou a few minutes before getting to your door, saying he needed to finish a few loose ends before giving you a call again. So imagine your surprise when you walk into your one bedroom with none other than Rindou already inside. “Jesus!” You gasped, holding onto your chest like your heart was going to pop out. “You can’t just!....” your scolding trailed off, eyes scanning the new clothing on him. Rindou smirked, uncrossing his legs from your couch and leaning back, arms splayed behind the couch. “Whatcha lookin’ at, pretty girl?” You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of a daze and dumping your bag at the door, along with your shoes. “What are you wearing, Rin? I’ve never seen that.” You mumbled, making your way over to him and sitting with your legs up to your chest next to him on the sofa. 

“We got new uniforms. You like ‘em?” 

Like was the understatement of the century. You loved it. It looked so clean, white made him look real cleaned up. Plus, even if you hated it (not really, you lair) seeing bright blood splatters on the crisp linen would be bad ass (as long as it’s not his!) But you had to play it cool, so you nodded, casually picking at your nails. He knew you better than that. Rindou patted his thigh with a grin, “come here, pretty. You’re too far.” he couldn’t help but coo when he saw how you scrambled from your corner onto his lap, hands running across his shoulders and thumbing the lapels. “It’s nice, Rinnie..” you whispered, feeling the embroidery on the sides of the sleeves. Your head was in turmoil: the new uniform was definitely doing it for you, trying your best to contain your horny little brain. “You look...good, in white.”  He let you keep tracing the fabric, seeing your pupils dilate and your mouth part. It was kind of hot, seeing how horny you were getting just by seeing him in uniform. Maybe he’d have to stop by after meetings more often. 

“What are you thinking, baby?” Rindou grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him with flushed cheeks. “Nothing!” Your voice cracked, clearing your throat before trying again. “Nothing.” He hummed, peering over his glasses. “You wanna fuck?” “Rin!” He couldn’t help but laugh, at how sweet you were for him, really. How he landed you and had you stick around he’ll never know. “Come on baby, lemme fuck the stress outta you. Missed you today.” He mumbled against your skin, kissing your jaw, trailing down your neck, pulling at your shirt to expose a shoulder and bite at the juncture that met your throat. You gasped, holding on tightly at the lapels of the jacket and bucking your hips onto him. “Missed you too, Rindou...” a hand made its way to his long locks, scratching at his scalp while he continued to give you attention. His hands made their way to your chest, grabbing and groping at your tits. “Strip for me, baby.” His voice held authority, your skin feeling like it was on fire. You nodded, getting up from his lap to practically rip your clothes off of you. “Does my pretty baby like my uniform?” He teased, cupping your ass when you stood between his legs. “Mhm” You nodded, moving to sit back on his lap but he stopped you with a hand. “Why don’t you suck me off, pretty girl?” felt much less like a question and more like a demand, one you couldn’t say no to. You knelt between his legs, shaky hands unbuckling his belt and zipping down the pants--pulling out his hardened cock from its confines. He spread his legs wide, making himself bigger. One hand smoothed down your hair while the other lay behind the couch. “Go ahead baby, show me how much you like my uniform.”

Your lips were on him in an instant. Pressing wet sloppy kisses on his head and shaft, tongueing his cock. He held his hand on your head, not moving you but keeping pressure. He lifted his hips slightly when you moved to take him in your mouth, pressing his cock into your cheek and seeing it bulge. “Fuck, baby, look so good taking my big dick.” your lashes fluttered at the praise, slurping his cock into your mouth. You were messy, drooling already with spit bubbling at the sides of your mouth. Rindou moaned above you, throwing his head back in pleasure when he saw just how nasty you were sucking him off. “Didn’t know this would do it for you” he laughed, taking your hair in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. “Wanna come see me fight like this? In my uniform? I’d win, and fuck you right after.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, pushing yourself to take more of him. You looked at him through teary lashes, nose touching his pubes as you gurgled around him. “Fuck! Just like that, slutty baby, keep going.” You whimpered around his cock, taking him just how he wanted it. You’d do whatever he asked when he was dressed like this, mind completely turning into mush. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, flicking your wrist and jerking him as you suckled on his tip, laving your tongue over the slit. Rindou hissed, pulling your hair to tip your head back, his own hand taking over for yours and jerking his cock. “Open your mouth, baby, gonna shoot my load over your face.” He panted, taking a mental picture of you sitting so pretty with your hazy eyes unfocused and tongue lolling out, waiting patiently for his cum. He moaned, bucking his hips as he shot sticky ropes of cum on your tongue and face, dripping from your forehead to your cheeks, smearing what was left on his tip on your tongue, giving it a few smacks before leaning back and letting go of your hair.

“Fuck babythat was so hot.” He exhaled deep, hoisting you up from your knees back onto the couch. His fingers rubbed at your pussy, that had been dripping onto your floor. He grinned wicked, pressing his already hardening cock between your pussy lips.

“Now I’m gonna fuck you with it on, okay baby?”

#milk writes #rindou haitani x reader #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou smut #tr rindou #rindou tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou smut #tokrev #tokyo revengers #milk kinktober

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x reader -- the wedding

You hated your wedding dress.

As you stood there in front of the mirror, your heart sank at the sight of yourself drowning in ornate and thick fabric, embroidery, and jewelry.

The veil was long and thin yet adorned with embroidery, slightly obscuring your vision. The corset was too constricting against your figure. The train of the dress seemed to stretch for miles, making movement a cumbersome ordeal. A dainty tiara sits atop your head. It would soon be replaced by a bigger tiara, one more fit for a queen. Ghost’s queen.

You sit still as the maids apply make-up to your face and style your hair, leaving yourself to your thoughts. At this moment, there was no possible alternative for you but to face him at the altar. You had to utter falsehoods about your affection for him, til death do you part. You had to slip wedding rings onto each other’s fingers, symbols of connection and eternal love. Of course, the public had no idea of your true feelings towards their king. You had to hide behind this facade, this act, that you truly liked this man. You internally roll your eyes as the maids straighten out your dress and veil, adding final touches to your wedding outfit.

A quick knock rapped against the door and the head maid, who introduced herself, came in to help you slip on your shoes.

“It’s time to go out there. Do you have your vows ready?”

Unfortunately is what you really wanted to say, but you bite your tongue.

“Yes.”

“Good. Guests are arriving. Your family is here, your highness.”

You perk up a little at that statement, but you pretend not to care. You still hadn’t forgiven your parents, but you would be overjoyed to see your siblings.

“Diplomats and royalty from other kingdoms will be present,” the head maid continues. “They’re here to bear witness to his majesty’s wedding. They want to show their support of your union. It’s a great thing, your kingdom and Kastron creating peaceful relations. It provides more…stability and protection.”

You nod your head knowingly. You weren’t completely clueless. You knew Kastron has a history of starting battles and wars. You knew they always won. And you knew other territories, kingdoms, and rogue militias who tried to pick fights with Kastron always ended up defeated. Kastron also tended to fight unnecessary wars, burning down villages with no remorse. You supposed you had to keep track of all this, now that you were about to become the queen of Kastron. More recently, you had been thinking about asking Ghost for political lessons…

Which, speaking of, your thoughts begin to drift towards him. Where is he? What is he doing right now? What is he thinking? What is he wearing? Is he dreading this as much as I am?

You would find out soon enough.

Each passing minute brought you closer to the life with him that you didn’t want.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a gentle voice beckoning you. “It’s time to go, your highness.”

You nod, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t recognize yourself. Yes, you look beautiful, but it’s not…you, per se. The wedding dress is just a facade, a wall of innocence to hide the fact that you’re marrying a murderer.

You turn, the motion causing the heavy fabric of your dress to brush against the floor. The head maid reaches behind your head, moving the veil in front of your face. She takes your hand, helping you move down the imposing wooden doors in front of you. Everyone from Kastron was in there, royalty from far away lands were in there, your family was in there, he was in there. All waiting for the blushing bride to be married to a killer.

The head maid quickly shoves your bouquet in your hands, and you grip onto the flowers like it’s a lifeline.

This was your reality.

On cue, the doors swing open, heads turn, and the orchestra plays the wedding march. It sounds like a death march to you. (speak now by taylor swift, anyone?)

You fix your gaze on the man you detested, waiting for you at the top of the altar. He was still wearing a stupid mask, his face covered. His body was adorned in the same black regalia he had worn when asking your parents for your hand in marriage. His cape flowed down his back, pooling at the stairs. An anxiety you’ve never experienced before swallowed you whole as you dragged your feet down the aisle, hundreds of eyes picking you apart.

Ghost was looking straight at you, his form unmoving as you approached him.

You had to force yourself to keep going, this time a little faster. You wanted to get this over with. The grip you held on your bouquet made the flowers quiver. God, the feeling of hundreds of scrutinizing eyes on your back made you want to throw up.

You were almost there. Almost there. You look down at the steps in front of you, climbing up to the altar, making sure not to trip on your trailing dress.

You wondered what he thought of you at this very moment. You wondered if he understood how truly scared you were to marry him, a killer, a creator of wars and bloodshed. You hoped you made him feel guilty.

You come to a stop on the top of the stairs, turning to face him. The music stops.

The wedding officiant starts speaking, talking about love, and this and that. It bores you half to death. Every last word he says is a drag.

“Now, for the vows.”

Oh God, the fun part.

You look down at his feet, trying to tune Ghost out as he talks about “steadfast loyalty,” “honor,” “privilege,” and “responsibility.” You want to scream at him to stop.

When he’s done, he looks at you expectantly. You just know that there’s a smirk under that stupid mask of his. You clear your throat, and begin to speak lies.

Meaningless, empty vows of how you would be “patient,” “honest,” “poised,” and “loyal.” The image of a perfect wife. The moment you concluded your words, your vows ceased to exist.

The officiate turned to grab the pillow holding your wedding rings, presenting them to you. He motions for you to grab Ghost’s wedding band. Your fingers tremble as you pick it up.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness, and as I place it on your hand, I commit my very heart and soul to you,” you practically spit out, sliding the ring on his calloused hand.

You watch as Ghost grabs your ring, a rather large diamond sitting on the band. He grasps your hand gently in his own, and he repeats the same: “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness, and as I place it on your hand, I commit my very heart and soul to you,” slipping the ring onto your finger. He squeezes your hand gently before pulling away.

You had nearly forgotten about this part. The kiss. The final nail on the coffin.

He reaches towards your face, pulling your veil up and over your head gently. He stepped close to you, closer than ever before. You reach up to his own mask, pushing up the top to reveal his lips. He lets you, watching you intently. You wanted to rip the mask off his face, but something deep within you stopped yourself.

His hand comes around to the small of your back, pulling you right up against him. He angles his back to the crowd, allowing only you to see, suddenly pulling his mask higher and higher, until it completely slipped off his face.

God, he’s gorgeous.

He bends down to your height, breath tickling your skin. You try to memorize his face before he eventually covers it back up. He pulls you impossibly closer, his other hand coming up to press against your cheek as he kisses you deeply.

The breath is knocked from your lungs as his lips press against yours, hard.

He slowly pulls away after another beat, and surprisingly you find yourself not wanting it to end. He methodically pulls his mask back down, concealing his face once more. He turns back to face the crowd, hand not leaving the small of your back, now cheering loudly for the happy couple. His hand gently pushes you towards the crowd, beckoning you to move. You turn, putting on a shaky smile as you spot your family in the crowd.

Ghost pulls his hand from your back, extending the crook of his arm out for you to take. You clutch onto his arm like it’s a lifeline, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

The orchestra is deafening as you both make your way down the aisle as a couple. The double doors open and shut quickly behind you two, and you let out a shuddered gasp, pulling your hand away from his arm.

This is your life.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 2

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1500

A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.

Warnings: I don't think there are any, but please let me know if I'm wrong on that!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

You look over the party invite, feeling slightly guilty for receiving so many of them without ever actually going. You tell yourself all the excuses but ultimately it all comes down to you feeling like you’re taking advantage of Mr. Rogers generosity. You were only doing what any other good person should do. Why would anyone think that deserves a reward? Sighing, you put the invitation with the stack of others. 

While you’re pondering your dinner options you hear a knock at your door. Confused, you look through the peephole and freeze. That tall, thick build and blonde hair is definitely Mr. Rogers. You crack the door open, “hello, Sir. What…what are you doing here?”

“Honestly, Hummingbird, I’m a little hurt,” he chides. His hands are on his hips and his expression is stern. “It’s been a lot of months, a lot of invites, a lot of art shows and you haven’t once taken me up on my offer. I called the curator and she said she hadn’t seen you, even during normal gallery hours.” You drop your face in shame. “Are you not actually interested in art? Is it really just one artist that gets your attention?”

“N-no, Sir-”

“Steve.”

“No, Steve, I…I just…” your brain scrambles to come up with something. Just a few minutes ago you told yourself all of the excuses you needed but with his piercing, blue eyes seemingly looking into your soul, they all feel baseless. “I…I don’t have nice enough clothes.” 

He smiles, and not in a comforting way. It reminds you of the first smile he gave you, when he knew the perfect reward. “I was wondering if it was something like that. May I come in?” 

A part of you feels like you really shouldn’t but his demeanor has you opening up the door, gesturing for him to enter. He nods at you and comes inside, carrying a black box with a white ribbon. You close the door behind him and turn to see him holding out the box to you.

“A gift from Monica’s parents. Had to guess at the measurements, so I’m under orders to make sure it fits.” You take the box and set it on your kitchen table before opening it. Inside is the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. The embroidery is stunning. You gasp as you carefully lift the dress out of the box and see that it covers the dress. It’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever held and you’re scared you’ll somehow tear it or ruin it. 

“Si–Steve,” you whisper as tears start forming in your eyes, “it’s…it’s too much. It’s too beautiful. I…I can’t-”

“Hummingbird,” he grumbles, “if you tell me you can’t accept it, I’ll have to go back to Danvers and Rambeau with the bad news that their gift was not accepted.” You wince at the thought. “Not accepting my gift is one thing, you only saved my party and my reputation. Not accepting their gift is far more insulting since it’s a thank you for rescuing their daughter.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you mumble. 

“I figured.” He steps closer to you. “Now, as I said, I am under orders to make sure that the dress does fit you. While I am here, would you please try it on and inform me if there are spots where it doesn’t fit right? I promise to stay seated here at the table.”

“Um..but, we…we don’t, I don’t know you well enough. Can you come back another day and I’ll tell you how it fits? Or I could message you about the fit?”

“Are you asking for my number, Hummingbird?” Heat rushes to your face as he confidently smirks at you. “I appreciate your hesitation but, as I said, I’m under orders from Monica’s mothers and they are not the kind of ladies you want to disobey. I will stay just outside your apartment door, lock it behind me if you want, but I need you to try that dress on now.”

You nod and gesture to your apartment door. As he starts walking he notices the small pile of invites he’s sent you these past few months. 

“You didn’t throw them away?”

“No, of course not. They’re a nice reminder of that night.” He nods his head but doesn’t say anything, closing the door behind him. 

You lock the deadbolt and take the dress to your room. In truth you’re terrified of accidentally ripping the dress but you’re incredibly excited to try on the beautiful piece of clothing. As you strip your casual wear you hope you can do the dress justice. 

With the utmost care you put on the dress. The sleeve is a little confusing at first but the more of the dress that settles the easier it is to navigate. You’re amazed at how perfectly it fits. He said they had to guess your measurements. Well, whoever made the guess has a very good eye. You look at yourself in the mirror and gasp at the pretty woman looking back at you. The dress is a perfect fit and you’ve never felt more beautiful. With a confidence you’ve never felt before, you go back to the apartment door to let Steve know. 

The door opens and Steve greets you with a bouquet of pink and lavender roses. That burst of confidence is gone and you freeze, blinking at him.

“I see you’re ready for the party,” he beams. “We should show up a little early since I am hosting and need to double check some details. But don’t worry about those, you just have fun tonight, okay?”

“B..but the…the invite said…next month.”

“Oh that’s correct. There’s another party next month. Huh,” he mused, “the invite to this party must’ve been lost in the mail.”

“Si–Steve, that wasn’t nice to trick me.”

“It also wasn’t nice for you to snub my gift.”

“I…I didn’t, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay, Hummingbird,” he soothes. “Just this one, and if you still don’t want to attend any parties or visit the gallery, I’ll leave you be.”

“Thank you. Let me put these flowers in some water before we go?”

He gently kisses your hand, “of course.”

Steve holds the door to the gallery open for you. You’re hoping you can just spend the evening getting lost in the art and not drawing attention to yourself. You really don’t want to embarrass Steve by upsetting his guests or ruining the party in some other way. 

The two of you are greeted by the curator who says she’s pleased to finally meet you and she hopes to see you more often. You smile weakly, thinking she’s just being nice because Steve is there. She leads you both to the hall where the party is being set up. You’re a little surprised that it’s empty of people. Giving Steve a confused look you ask, “how early are we?”

“We’re exactly on time,” he smiles gently. “I still want to thank you for your actions so I’ve rented the place for just you. Take your time, enjoy yourself. If you need something to eat or drink, just ask and I’ll get it for you. If you want to do this without me around, I’ll stay back. If you want to talk about the artwork instead of just looking at it, I’ll be happy to join you. It’s all your decision.”

“Th..the dress?”

“I wasn’t lying about that. It is a thank you gift from Monica’s mothers.”

“How’d they get my measurements so right? They barely saw me.”

Steve smirks at that, “I gave them the measurements.” You look at him in surprise and he chuckles, “I’ve got a lot of experience in sizing people up.” Whether it’s nerves catching up with you or the absurdity of the situation you actually laugh at that and find yourself relaxing a little. His eyes light up at your laugh but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Okay, Steve,” you nod. “I think I’d like to walk with you. As much as I enjoyed the last show, it probably would’ve been more fun if I had someone to share the experience with.”

Steve offers you his arm and you don’t hesitate to take it. He’s happy to let you take the lead. You spend the next few hours walking together and talking about the different artists, techniques and mediums you see. Steve is delighted to see how excited you get the more comfortable you are. You’re brimming with energy and you flit back and forth between pieces while talking. 

As exciting as it all is, you do still get tired after a while. Every time you try to stifle a yawn you swear you see Steve’s eyes twinkle at you in amusement. Soon it’s impossible to even try.

“What do you say we get you home, Hummingbird?”

“But there’s so much more to see!”

“You’re barely awake,” he chuckles. “Let’s get you home. You can see more at the next party.”

“Next party?”

“If, of course, you’re still interested. If not, that latest invite will be the last you receive, I promise.”

“Noooo,” you whimper tiredly. “I’ve had so much fun. Haven’t had this much fun in such a long time.”

“Me too, Hummingbird,” he murmurs. “Me, too.”

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey

@aryhyuuga

@cynic-spirit

@ktficworld

@rebekahdawkins

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

#mob boss!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob!steve rogers x reader

[pearlywritings]

Okay, BUT

Just imagine a reader with mannerism of Shellsea from Fish Hooks in Fontaine

(Tik tok did it to me)

Written before Fontaine's release

First of all - she is some kind of sea creature but under human disguise - pretty much like Neuvillette. She can be a Genshin lore-accurate mermaid if they have one for all I care, but currently with legs and residing in the nation of Hydro.

Trendy, flashy, yet classy. Works as an attorney in the Court - which she is actually good at. But mostly her role is entertaining Furina with her wit and way of advocating, which gradually reduces the number of executions, and gains her a bit of unspoken gratitude from the Chief Judge, even though sometimes his eye twitches from some of her comments. Which the Archon also finds hilarious.

Like, listening to the defendant’s case, and then just going “wow, ma’am, I think you just dropped something. My jaw. Now to the evidence…”

Or “Neuv, relaaaaax. I wanna do it this way, and if I am wrong, I don’t wanna be right.”

Just causing manageable chaos and being iconic.

Feel like being besties with Navia is a given.

And the blondie is so pretty that she probably gets asked out at least once a week.

“Oh, this man is gonna have his heart smashed in a minute. I wanna watch it.”

Also going all “Girl, you’re craaaaaazy. I like it!” the moment the reader learns that she wields a hecking claymore.

No matter what probably spends quite some time in the Chief Judge’s office, reviewing some of the cases and actually coming up with ideas on how to keep Focalors content.

“Ew, this man’s case is actually concerning. He is so dead, this little creep. You know, that’s actually what I’m gonna tell him. And then smack his head with one of these books on your shelves.”

“Y/n, you can’t hit him.”

“When did that stop me? Which volume 5 of Fontaine laws is heavier - the 23th edition or the 35th one? Both look so thick.”

“sigh”

Most likely wears a new attire every single hearing. One time Neuvillette even questioned her after seeing the report of her spendings where the big portion was dedicated to clothes. It was just a few decades ago, after her decision to permanently stay on land and take over what she is so good at now. He won’t admit it, but maybe he was a bit concerned about her having a hard time handling her budget.

“Listen, Sir. I got those pretty walking legs to dress them up nicely as the rest of my body. Speaking of which, now I am craving a Natlan lava hot dress with ¾ sleeves, off-the-shoulder, a fixed box pleat skirt and embroidery on my girls,” casually motions to the chest.

As shameless as she is, nothing shocked the poor man more, than when three days later she arrived in exactly that dress. After this he almost never questioned her abilities.

Speaking of abilities, probably good at gathering intel. Unintentionally.

Also so chill, that when Furina threatened to turn her into water, she just stared at her point blank and went “Loooook, milady, it’s nothing personal, but I had to stop you. I read it in Neuv’s eyes, he was pleading for it. Don’t turn him into water though, I like him. Besides, Fontaine's waters might turn sour if he replenishes its volumes.”

She is Furina’s personal favorite.

When shit starts further down the Archon quest and everyone is panicking, reader, standing next to Neuvillette and Furina, just smacking her lips and exclaiming “we’re all gonna die! And if some of us actually do, Neuv, I’m stealing your coats,” not taking it seriously enough.

Would be so funny if she and the Chief Judge got together at some point lol. But staying sarcastic colleagues borderline a different kind of besties is also hysterical. But they do unintentionally "parent" Furina.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #furina #focalors #fontaine

[merovingianprincess]

Life After Death - Aegon Targaryen x Reader

hey, this is literally my first time writing something like this. please be nice and feedback is appreciated. English is my first language but sometimes i am stupid I have seen another story similar to this but not exact, I have not copied anyone, i swear.

TW: death, grief

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Fire and Blood/House of the Dragon, nor do I claim to own any of them.

_____________________________________________________________

It was becoming dark and getting cooler as you, Princess Visenya Targaryen, were ushered by Aegon's men into your own quarters alone, and your beloved mother and brothers were held outside in the courtyard of Dragonstone.

You didn't bother trying to bang on the door to get out, as you knew they had been locked and the fight had practically been lost. You could hear the clinging of the armor of the guards who were stationed outside your door on Aegon's orders. He demanded you be taken to your quarters, "To be dealt with later."

Sighing in defeat you sat down in a chair near the hearth, hands wringing together in your lap. Glancing towards the window, seeing the sun starting to set in the sky.

What could you do? Nothing. Your beloved dragon, Vermithor and his mate Silverwing, were being held down on Dragonmont, you silently prayed to any god who would listen to keep your dear dragon and his own lover safe. There was no way to get to the two large beasts, only hoping they would remain unharmed; though it would take a lot of effort for simple soldiers to kill two gigantic dragons.

You felt a slow breeze drift through your open windows, cool enough for you to consider wrapping up in a blanket, but you didn't want to move. There were a hundred thoughts running through your head. What was to happen to your mother, the queen? What about your dear brothers Aegon and Viserys? Your other brothers Jacareys, Lucerys, and Joffery were all killed off separately during the war.

It was painful and torture sitting with, what ifs? The seconds felt like hours drifting by, slowly, like watching a boat move across the water over the horizon on a day with no wind.

You began to pick at the loose thread on your black and red dress, thinking about how you'd need to repair it, maybe with some pretty embroidery, if you survived. Oh, but no. It felt so stupid to think of something like that when your mother and brothers were being held by Aegon's men. How could this be real life?

You jumped in your seat when you suddenly hear a dragon's roar, though not Vermithors or Silverwings. It must be Sunfyre, the thought makes you even more nervous, feeling yourself start to shake. You stood up to walk around hoping that would ease the shaking of your body, it did slightly; before you heard a scream. A scream that was bloodcurdling, it was haunting, memorable. Somehow you knew whose it was, though you wanted so badly to deny it, to not think of such a thing.

You found yourself sitting back down on the chair by the hearth, tears forming themselves in your eyes before they began to cascade down your pale face. You sat there like a statue, sitting up properly like a lady, hands folded nicely in your lap, with tears falling quickly, a few hitting the tops of your hands, one or two on your knuckles, your eyes trained down to the stone floor.

Then there were cheers, you turned your head slowly towards the window moving your eyes from the floor to the sunset, it was pretty. At least she died when the sunset was beautiful, you thought, trying to comfort yourself once again. Then you heard cheers from the soldiers and a triumphant roar from Sunfyre.

How dare they?! My mother just died and they cheer? You felt angry, you wanted to scream and throw things around the room. You also wanted to be held, mostly by the big arms of your stepfather, Daemon. He wasn't great at discussing feelings but he was good at comforting you when you were sad or had a bad dream, But, he was dead too. Aegon and Viserys, are dead by now. Everyone you loved was dead, all for a throne.

It was quiet again, your gaze had turned to the fire, the tears still slipping from your eyes, though not as many now. You felt numb and didn't want to cry anymore, you didn't want to feel anything anymore. You were ready to meet your fate as well.

There was a knock at the door, you stood up as it opened. Aegon walked in, with his hand on the pommel of his sword. His face was a bit flushed, but he looked composed, well as composed as one could be after destroying his own sister. You walked toward one another before stopping only two steps separating the two of you.

"Princess Visenya," he said giving you a small smile.

"Aegon," You responded shakily, trying to stop any more tears from reemerging. You told yourself you were going to be strong.

"I have put your mother to death by dragon fire." He said calmly, his hand tightening on the pommel of his sword.

"I gathered that when I heard a dragon's roar followed by screaming and then cheering." You replied, looking at him in the eyes.

He pursed his lips looking down at the stone floor and then quickly back at you. He reached the hand from his sword out and gently started playing with a loose tendril of your silver hair that was near your face. You want to swat his hand away but you were out of the effort for anything. You felt a sort of light tension coming from his person, he opened his mouth to say something and then closed it.

He shifted his gaze from the hair he was playing with to you once again. "I'm going to give you two options Visenya, that's it, I ask that you choose very carefully, okay?" He said, lightly raising his eyebrows.

"Okay." You lightly nodded your head, your hands playing with the rings you had on.

"You can either marry me and become my queen and I'll let your brothers live, or I can sentence all three of you to death the same way your mother died." He said, letting out a breath at the end.

Your eyes widened at him, "My brothers are still alive?" you asked with a hopeful smile.

"Yes," he said, nodding his head, letting go of the silver tendril.

You paused for a brief moment, you surely thought they too had died, you were expecting to die as well, maybe not the same way your mother had. But here Aegon was offering you and your surviving brothers the chance to live, though be his wards. You could become queen though, you weren't your mother's heir, it was Jacareys but you could continue her legacy. You could allow your younger brothers peace, something none of you had known in far too long. You fought with yourself internally, how could you marry the man who usurped your mother's throne and killed your mother? You thought once again to your brothers, they deserved to live.

"I will marry you Aegon," you said, looking up from the floor to him. He smiled widely at you. "But on a condition."

His smile faltered, "On a condition?"

You nodded your head.

"Visenya," he looked down in disbelief with a slight shake of his head, "I'm allowing you to live under far better terms than my advisors would even think of and you're wanting conditions?"

"No bedding ceremony. I do not want to be humiliated or bred like a showhorse in front of people." You spit out quickly before he could say anything else.

He looked back up at you. "That can absolutely be arranged Visenya, absolutely." He slowly and lightly put his hands on the side of your face, and he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your lips. It was quick and your first-ever kiss, never did you expect it to be Aegon. He pulled back giving you a smile that you returned.

"I'm glad about the choice you have made, I must finish things up here on Dragonstone, we shall begin our return to Kings Landing in the morning. I will see that your brothers are being treated well. If you need anything please let one of the guards know, I will send a servant to give you dinner. " Aegon said, lightly grasping your hands, pulling them up to his lips for a kiss, before striding out of the room.

You stood there watching the doors close behind him, this time you did not hear a lock. You walked back over to the chair in front of the hearth, it was somehow still burning strong. Your mother had just died, Aegon has won the war and you were to marry him soon. You felt a rush of mixed emotions. You felt like a traitor to your mother and her supporters, you felt like you did the right thing in protecting your brothers and keeping them alive. But you would also end the war and bring about peace.

You were going to marry King Aegon II and be his Queen.

#aegon the second #aegon x reader #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd aegon #aegon imagine #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x you #hotd

[slavicafire]

I really want a tattoo that has slavic motifs(I realise thats a pretty wide spectrum) but at the same time I am really worried about choosing something thats in any way connected to the white pride nazi ish movements. Would you or your followers have any good ideas on what to get or not get? Thank you

as to what to get: I'd suggest leaning more towards typical folk motifs, such as embroidery and ornaments, or symbolism of plants and animals rather than typical symbols. because choosing established symbols will always be tricky when it comes to something as easily used in white power propaganda and nationalism as european pre-christian beliefs, even if you choose something the nazis don't use.

for example, one of my tattoos incorporates the symbol from the Biała funerary urn - as a bit of a tongue in cheek homage to the old culture of our lands, which is not only so intertwined with all the influences surrounding it that it's impossible, even for experts, to tell exactly where it begins and ends, but also because I believe we ultimately don't know what that cross is. and the Not Knowing part of slavic culture and paganism is what I love about it the most! rodnovery groups like to call it Hands of Svarog which is even funnier given, you know, we barely even know who Svarog was supposed to be. also, it's a funerary urn. I don't think I have to explain why I'm drawn to that.

but - this rambling has a purpose. that urn has a symbol right next to the one I like, and that swastika was so useful for the nazis occupying poland that they even made it the coat of arms of occupied city Łódź, and would literally not shut up about it. because that is what the nazi scum does - and nowadays their stubborness did not falter at all - and many symbols have been used in their vile propaganda. if I was to get this tattoo done today, I feel I'd think twice about using the symbol I like, no matter what it means to me, even though I am a firm believer in reclamation of slavic material and non-material culture.

here is a handy graphic regarding the slavic (and nordic, and similar) symbols used in white power propaganda - the focus is on Poland but the symbols are mostly the same for the whole of Europe.

keep in mind that the kolovrat - the sun swastika with many arms - is probably the only one from the list very often blindly used by people who are into slavic paganism, maybe next to runes used as runes. while the other symbols mean 100% a nazi, with publicly using kolovrat the likelihood is, I'd day 80% chance a nazi, 20% chance an idiot who should know better but didn't care enough to check. it's still harmful, of course, but widespread enough to warrant a mention.

for poles, here is the source - and here is another article I recommend checking out, a bit dated as it might be.

#if you'd like me to translate exactly what the text says let me know #I should make my own graphic I think and finally post it to tumblr. hm

[mariaxxxxx]

Chapter 3- My future in gold and jade

Summary: To save your nation You are given as a bride to a sea god.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: Reader is heavily implied to be Mexican but i tried to keep it as free to the imagination as possible

Curiosity: A friend asked me what period my story takes place in, well, although I didn't specify, it is very implicit that everything takes place in the colonial period. Namor obtains his queen (You) at least 200 years after burying his mother; As we know, our water daddy ages very slowly and he was around 70/80 years old when he said goodbye to his mother, but he had the appearance of a boy of no more than 13 years old. In my story he already has the appearance we know in the film, perhaps, with some small touches of subtle youth. The characters Namora and Attuma will not be present in this fic, as they were not born yet, I guarantee that later on the reader will have contact with the people who would become the great-grandparents of these iconic characters.

Work count: 1.020

Serie materialist

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

You could have a million lives, but it wouldn't be enough to describe the beauty of the man in front of you. Adorned in gold, jade and lazulite, with his modesty being covered by a white loincloth with checkered embroidery, in his beautiful nose a jade piercing and in his pointed ears earrings also decorated with green stone, his skin shone like liquid gold under the yellowish light from the cabin; the figure was so imposing that You believed you were in the presence of a God.

He smiled wide in her direction, exposing all his white, perfectly aligned teeth. He was standing in front of you, with an upright posture and hands clasped in front of his body. A beautiful body; You noticed. He wore nothing to cover his bare chest. You noticed that on his ankles there were two pairs of wings; just like his father had said.

“You’re even more beautiful up close.” He broke the silence.

"You speak my language." Although it wasn't his intention, his voice came out as a mere whisper. He seemed to have fun with it.

“I see they took very good care of You.” He gestured with his right arm as he spoke; indicating her figure covered in a beautiful dress and precious jewelry. His brain took a while to understand that the ‘‘they’’ he was referring to were the blue-skinned girls who had bathed and dressed him.

"Yes. They took very good care of me.” You said. “I feel like I should say thank you, but I don’t know how to do it.”

"Don't worry about that. I will tell them myself how pleased their queen is with the result.”

Queen, the word echoed in his mind. So he was a king? Were you his queen? Everything seemed so confusing to You. The information you were given proved useless at this point.

“I…” You started to speak, but the words slipped off your tongue. You knew what to say what to do what to think.

"You...?" he encouraged.

“What should I call him? I am your wife, but I know nothing about You.”

It seemed like the right question, because the man, The God, puffed out his chest and approached You. As he approached, You felt the wave of heat that his skin exuded.

“K’uk’ulkan. That’s what my people call me and that’s what my queen will call me.”

“K'uk'ulkan” You repeated the word quietly, testing the sound on your lips. The name was as beautiful as the one to whom it belonged.

“Come, sit next to me. I have a lot to tell you.”

The man was a talented storyteller and You were a curious listener. He told him how long ago his people were driven from their corn farms by white invaders; He explained how disease and genocide forced his people to look for alternative solutions to save themselves. It was a shaman, he said, who prayed to the God Chaac for an answer and the God responded. In a vision he was shown a plant, at the bottom of the sea, with sacred properties that would free the people from hunger and destruction.

His mother, his mother-in-law, refused to ingest the plant for fear of hurting the baby growing in her womb, but the Xama was convincing and she was promised that the seed growing in her womb would be the leader of this new nation. Then he, K'uk'ulkan, was born on prayers and salt water. With his ears pointed towards the stars and his feathered ankles, being able to breathe in and out of the water, he was given a throne when he was still just a few days old. His mother died at an advanced age and her body was buried on the surface, on the land from which she claimed to return.

“My mother is buried on the land where you belong. I cannot let his resting place be desecrated again by those colonizers.”

"I'm very sorry." You whispered. “It must have been painful to lose someone so important.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, my queen. Use this deplorable feeling for those who deserve it. Those who invade taking what does not belong to them, those who deprive mothers of their children and wives of their husbands. What I will do to the invaders will be pitiful.”

“How should I thank the savior of my people?” You questioned, eyes shining in anticipation. You were his to play with, to mold; his destiny was ingrained between that man's fingers.

“Your father already did this for you the moment your hand was offered to me in marriage.” He paused. “A brave man, I admit. He gave his most precious possession to a stranger.”

You noticed a tone of irritation in his voice, as if the idea of You being handed over so easily was absurd.

“Desperate measures require desperate solutions. My father did what was necessary to protect his people and I don't blame him for that; What is a single life to save millions?”

He seemed proud of his words, proof of which was a huge smile that appeared on his lips.

“Sometimes, my queen, alternative measures can be taken that preserve a single life and the lives of millions.”

"I am a princess. And a princess's mission can never cease. I must serve my nation and its role to play, the hopes of my people I can never disappoint.” You said. “These words were whispered in my ears the moment I took my first breath of life and these are the words I repeated to myself when I was told that I would be handed over to a being that flies beneath the waves. I was afraid, I felt angry at my father and those who failed to protect me, but the lives of my people are much more important than my wishes.”

The man, her husband, leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers. He placed his hand right on her cheek. You closed your eyes, enjoying that intimate and affectionate act.

“The gods sent a good queen to me.”

#namor x reader #black panther #namor of talokan #namor x y/n #namor x you #talokan #wakanda forever #namor smut #namor the sub mariner #namor #tenoch huerta

[mycraftingjourney]

Introduction post

I wanted to give a bit of an introduction to why I'm here, what I'm doing and so on.

tl;dr: I like clothes and I'm into sustainability, so I started (visible) mending a few month or so ago. I also crochet, although not as much as I'd like to, and I dabble a bit in embroidery. My goal is to kind of document my journey with these crafts and maybe inspire people to give some of these a try.

I'd also love to talk about all things (visible) mending, crochet, embroidery and fiber arts in general and share the knowledge I have / point people who want to start to some resources that helped me.

I've been into fashion/clothes and styling them on and off for a big part of my life. A few years ago, I also got into sustainability, learning about how buying new fast fashion damages our planet and exploits other human beings, and what may be good alternatives.

This path, inevatibly, lead down to getting curious about mending. I learned basic sewing skills when I was a child, but I never altered any clothes and apart from a few tiny things never mended anything.

However, this year, I wanted to change that. I've heard about visible mending before and I really liked it. I had a pair of jeans when I was a teenager that was patched (by someone else) that was my favourite pair. Unfortunately, I managed to ruin it beyond repair and also grew out of it, but this stuck with me. I always liked to express myself creatively, and in recent years, what I wear has become a big part of that. The idea that by visibly mending my clothes I express my passion for sustainability feels really good (and punk!) to me. The idea of altering clothes that I don't currently love but could love if something about them was changed is also a nice one.

I only darned my first sock a few months ago. My goal with this blog is to share this first darn as well as the progress I make, because I want to encourage other people. You don't have to make perfect mends to be sustainable. On the contrary, mend imperfectly, mend messy, but DO MEND. Even if you'll have to redo it at one point, when you have more skill, even if you don't end up redoing it and instead use that piece of clothing for something else, you still gave it another wear, or two, or three (or fifty) - and that's what this is all about.

I tend to be an extreme perfectionist and it's hard for me to deal with a situation where I'm not perfect at a first try. Surprise surprise, I am not when it comes to mending, or embroidery, or crochet, or anything at all really. But I'm trying to let that go and concentrate on what I achieve rather than what I did "wrong" or imperfectly. I want to share my messy bits and the things I'm proud of, and I want to update how the mends I did held up. As i mentioned above, I hope that maybe I'll inspire some people to pick up a needle as well. Even if you "only" fix that button or a ripped up seam. Every mend counts!

When I get into altering or even making clothes, I will share those projects too, but that will have to wait a bit since I don't currently have any space to put up my sewing machine and I do simply not have the energy nor patience to hand sew bigger things.

Apart from mending I also crochet. Talking more about that feels like a bit of an overkill here, I'll make a new post for that.

Recently I also started to embroider, with the idea of using embroidery in my (visible) mending and to embellish clothes. Here again I decided on a project where I just start and don't try to be perfect from the beginning on, I'll share more about that as well as my crochet project(s) soon.

I think this should be enough for the moment with the introduction. One thing about me, as you probably got by now, is that I'm really bad at being brief with my writing. I have no idea how often I will manage to make posts on here due to work and life, but I will try to do them quiet regularly, as well as sharing things I see that might be helpful / interesting / that inspire me. I also think I'll probably only write more for bigger projects but also just share stuff I'm working on / finished recently.

Maybe I'll also share other DIYs that are not really crafts/fiber arts related but I think are cool.

This isn't my main blog (thats @merryfromthestars), so if I follow I follow from there.

I'm also always open to questions, discussions etc. so just send me an ask or dm if you want! Just, I might take a moment to answer them, because life and work :) I'm excited to see where this journey takes me, and I hope some people will come along and maybe get inspired.

#sewing #diy #crochet #fiber art #fiber arts #long post #embroidery #sustainability #sustainable fashion #crochetblr #mending #visible mending #personal #solarpunk

[slusheeduck]

Fictober23 Day 19 - Prompt: "Give me that, before anything happens." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

“Falerin, darling, the embroidery on your gloves is coming undone. It’s making me nervous.”

Falerin, bruised and battered after their most recent encounter with a set of Absolute cultists, looked over at Astarion, equally bruised and battered, as they returned to camp. He blinked. “Is this…really the time?” He shook his head. “I’ll just pull it out in the morning.”

“No, you will not.” Astarion’s hand was out, making a little grabby motion. “Just…give me that, before anything happens.”

Falerin sighed, rolling his eyes, but he handed them over. “Have fun. I’m going to go wash up.”

He did go wash up. By the time he returned to camp, his gloves’ embroidery was neatly restored, with a few holes darned up as well.

-

“Lae’zel, far be it from me to discourage showing more skin, but your shirt’s about thirty seconds from falling to pieces.”

Lae’zel whirled around at Astarion’s comment, eyes narrowed. “The target is just ahead. My shirt is immaterial.”

“Well, it’s nearly there.” Astarion held out his hand. “Let me fix it. It won’t take ten minutes, and you won’t be embarrassed when we do our good deed and you’re left in rags.” His fingers twitched in a silent give it here. “I’ll close my eyes if you’re feeling bashful.”

Lae’zel huffed and rolled her eyes, but she did stop long enough to shrug off her shirt and hand it over to Astarion. She watched as he pulled a needle, already threaded, from his pack, and settled down beside him to watch as he fixed it up.

“Why do you have that with you? It’s…unhelpful.”

“Perhaps to you,” he said, squinting as he lined up a large tear. “If I’m going to be killed by mind-flayers or goblins or cultists or what have you, I’m going to make sure I’m an exquisite corpse. Well, more than I am now, anyway. And I don’t want any of you bringing that legacy down because you look like a bunch of vagrants.”

True to his word, the shirt was fixed in under ten minutes. He held it back out to Lae’zel, who pulled it on. Her brows drew together.

“It’s…sturdier than I remember.”

“Well, part of that is because it was just barely hanging together. I reinforced the stitching along the arms.” He tucked the needle away and go to his feet. “Now that that’s done, let’s go hurt some people.”

-

Gale squinted at the pillow he’d picked up in the goblin camp. It…could do for Tara, if she came back around. A little threadbare, yes, but in decent enough condition.

“Looking at decorating?” Astarion drawled as he walked past. “I don’t think that really matches the rest of your décor.”

Gale sighed. “It’s for Tara. If she comes back—and I’m sure she will—I won’t hear the end of it if I make her sit in the grass.”

Astarion paused. “You’re getting…that for Tara? Are you trying to make her feel like a pauper?”

Gale huffed. “I don’t exactly have the luxury of stopping into a shop, do I?” He shook his head. “It’ll have to do.”

“It will not.” Astarion held out his hand. “Give it here.”

Gale looked over at him curiously, but shrugged. “If you can make it nicer, be my guest.”

The next morning, a “Gale, here” was all the warning the wizard got before getting a decorative pillow thrown directly at his face. He caught it after a slight fumble, then looked it over. It was the pillow he’d been looking at the night before, with a new lease on life from the look of it—the stitching had been reinforced and formerly threadbare flowers and vines restored. Most notably, though, was the large, flourished embroidery that read “Tara” in big letters along one side.

Gale blinked, bewildered. “That’s…thank you, Astarion, that’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Astarion scoffed. “It’s hardly kind. I did it because that’s what Tara deserves.”

-

“…you’re going to be here all week if you think that’s the best way to get stitching out.”

Shadowheart jumped, and she glanced back behind her at Astarion. She sighed, looking back down at the altar cloth in her hands. It was black and silky, with a mangled cluster of silver embroidery in the corner. She sighed.

“It used to have a prayer, down there,” she said quietly. “To the Lady of Sorrows. I really should just toss the whole thing out, but I…” She glanced over as Astarion held out his hand, fingers twitching. “Will…you throw it out for me?”

“Maybe.” He took the cloth from her, looking it over appraisingly. “Or maybe a black silk scarf will look terribly dashing on me. Either way, I’ll take care of it.”

Shadowheart gave a small nod, taking a breath. “I think I’ll go to bed. You can…do what you’d like with that.”

“Oh, I intend to. Good night, darling.” He sauntered off.

A few days later, as Shadowheart came out of her tent, she was greeted with her altar cloth neatly folded on a stool. The original embroidery had been removed without a trace, and instead of the expanse of black, a charming scene of a night sky had been embroidered into the silk, with a detailed moon hanging in the corner.

-

Astarion tried to ignore what he saw in the corner of his eye. He focused harder on his book, but the little brown blur in his peripheral didn’t go away. Not only that, but it got closer. Finally, he sighed and shut his book to look at the stuffed bear right beside his face. Behind it, Karlach wore a pleading expression.

“Asti?”

“You only call me that when you want something.” He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Did you rip him again?”

“His ear caught on my armor when we were moving camp.” She turned Clive’s head, showing an ear just barely hanging on to his head. “Can you…?”

Astarion rolled his eyes, then held out his hand. Clive was deposited, and Karlach waited in eager anticipation as he went into surgery. After a few deft stitches, Astarion snipped the thread, then looked him over.

“His leg’s a bit loose, give me a moment,” he murmured, going back in with his needle. Shortly after, Clive—good as new—was held out to the tiefling. “Be more careful with him.”

“You’re the best, Asti,” Karlach gushed, giving Clive a squeeze before heading back to her tent.

-

“Wyll, you are causing me physical pain. Stop.”

Wyll looked up from his work. The shoulder of his cloth armor had torn in their last tussle, and he was using their bit of downtime to stitch it back up. Across from him, Astarion was leaning forward, hand against his mouth and red eyes boring into the warlock.

“I’m…just trying to fix it up. I do this all the time.”

“And you’re using a whip stitch?” Astarion held out his hand. “Give it to me. I can’t bear anymore of this torture.”

Wyll hesitated. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, yes I do. I’m not saving the world with someone who’s dressed like a scarecrow.”

Wyll sighed, then handed the armor, needle, and thread over. He scooted a bit closer as Astarion got to work. “I’m surprised you’re so good with a needle and thread.”

“Well, if Cazador couldn’t be bothered to give me more than rats to eat, it shouldn’t be surprising that I was on my own to keep from wearing rags.” He squinted at the tear, then set to work; his stitches were so neat and small that they disappeared into the cloth. “Besides, two hundred years of imprisonment is a very long time, even for elves. You need a hobby if you’re going to get out with your sanity intact. Embroidery’s good for that.”

Wyll smiled. “Maybe you could make a nice living on that once we’re done. Set up a nice tailor shop.”

Astarion scoffed. “Go on the straight and narrow? Wyll, you’re adorable, but there’s plenty of unattended goods out there just begging to find their way into my pockets.” He finished up his stitching, giving the armor an experimental tug before he snapped off the thread. “There. Do try to be more careful, and for the gods’ sake, just bring it to me before you butcher your next piece of apparel.” Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

#fictober23 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale #shadowheart #lae'zel #karlach #clive the bear #Camp seamstress Astarion is canon I'll fight you on it

[totallynotmeems]

royjamie spotify wrapped fic: #3

requests can go in my ask box or in the comments of this post

requested by @justsomefunshit

fic is under the cut

3. Me and the Devil - Soap&Skin

Early this morning When you knocked upon my door Early this morning When you knocked upon my door And I said hello Satan, ah I believe it is time to go

It was early when Jamie knocked on Roy’s door. 4 o’clock to be exact.

Why was Jamie here, this early in the morning, when Roy had told Jamie last night that today’s training was canceled? 

Roy opens the door, too tired to be angry really, but his resting face was a scowl, so he guesses that’s good enough. “What are you doing here, Tartt? Training’s canceled today. You should be resting that ankle,” Roy says in what was supposed to come out as a scold. He still lets Jamie inside.

“Couldn’t sleep, Coach,” Jamie says, but it’s clearly not the whole story. “Need to do something, feeling too antsy to try and sleep.”

“Come on, let’s go sit on the couch. I’ll find something for you to do,” Roy replies, leading Jamie farther into his house. They sit on the couch, and Roy turns on the TV. It flashes on, showing what was last playing.

“Didn’t know you were such a Barbie fan, Coach,” Jamie jokes. He still doesn’t look quite right. 

“Phoebe had to stay overnight, Ruth had an overnight shift and I’m her resident babysitter,” Roy answers. He turns the movie on, doesn’t even look to see which one it is. He’d like to say they all blend together, but he often finds himself getting more invested in the movie than Phoebe. 

“No offense, Coach, but I don’t think a movie’s going to be enough to keep me occupied,” Jamie tells Roy, but not in a joking way. He seems so sad, like he just needs someone to be there for him, but sorry to be a burden. Roy doesn’t have anything better to do, and Jamie, as much as he hates to admit it, is his friend. Someone he cares about.

Roy grabs what he’d been working on last night and hands the other kit to Jamie. “What’s this, Coach?” Jamie asks. 

“Embroidery. The yoga mums got me into it. It’s calming,” Roy answers. “You want to try it?”

“Not sure if I can be trusted with a needle right now, Coach. Might stab meself,” Jamie answers, looking down. “Sorry. I should just go, shouldn’t I?”

“You’re not going anywhere, Jamie,” Roy states. “You clearly need someone here for you, and you came to me. Not going to let you just go home like this.” Roy takes the embroidery kit out of his hands, and insteads hands him a clipboard with three pieces of black string clipped to it. 

“The hell am I supposed to do with this, Coach?”

“Braid it.”

“Alright.”

Roy goes back to doing his embroidery and watching the movie. There’s someone currently getting kidnapped on screen, or something. Roy honestly hasn’t been paying attention to the movie much, too worried about Jamie to really get into it. Jamie is intensely staring down at the clipboard, carefully braiding the strings together. If he stays like that for too long he’ll get a crick in his neck. 

When did Roy start worrying about Jamie getting a crick in his neck? When did he start thinking of Jamie as more than a player? As more than a friend? 

“Oi, stop hanging your head like that. You’ll fuck up your neck if you keep that up,” Roy advises. Jamie moves himself to sit further back on the couch, his back meeting the couch. Roy gives him a nod of approval.

Roy follows his own directions. This puts him right next to Jamie, shoulders touching, their knees with very little space from each other's.

“Can I ask a question, Coach?”

“Just did.”

“Coach.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why’d you let me in?” Jamie asks, fingers still braiding the strings together. He’s not doing great, but it’s not horrendous either.

“You looked like a ghost, Jamie. Couldn’t leave you out there,” Roy answers. “Couldn’t have my star player getting hypothermia, could I?” The joke falls flat. “Seriously, Jamie. I was worried for you.”

“Thanks, Coach,” Jamie says, but he looks like he wants to say more.

“Want to talk about what brought you over here?”

“Not really.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“My dad came over to my house after the game. Wanted to know why I passed. Why I let Dani take the shot instead of me. Why I went back to Richmond,” Jamie says. “Got mad when I asked him to leave. Started to throw stuff and I just left. Booked it. Went anywhere but there. Had an Uber drive around for like an hour. Then I came here.”

“How long were you outside my door, Jamie?” Roy asks, concerned but with a twinge of scold in his voice. It was freezing outside, he could have gotten sick.

“Half an hour,” Jamie lies. Roy gives him a look. “Hour and a half.” 

Roy stands up and goes to the TV stand. On the far right is a cabinet that opens like a laundry chute. Roy grabs a total of three blankets and comes back to the couch. He sits down and lays the blankets over Jamie and himself. He puts a hand around Jamie’s shoulders. Their sides are pressed up against each other again. They both relax.

--------

“Uncle Roy, why is Jamie Tartt sleeping on the couch?”

Roy and Jamie immediately wake up when they hear Phoebe’s voice. “Uh…” Jamie starts. Roy guesses they relaxed too much and fell asleep. With Jamie’s head resting on Roy’s chest. Awkward.

“Jamie and I had a sleepover since his house was having some issues.”

“Will he be staying tonight too?” Phoebe asks, excited.

Jamie looks worried, but Roy has a smirk on his face. “He can stay as long as he likes.” Jamie looks less worried now.

“Can I have pancakes now?” 

“Ooh! Pancakes!” Jamie says, perking up.

“Yes, Phoebe, you can have pancakes,” Roy says before turning to Jamie. “You can have pancakes, but only if you help clean up afterwards.”

“Got it, Coach!”

And he does.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #roy kent #royjamie #roy x jamie #my fic #this was not beta'd #no beta we die like men

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Finding

Part 3 to this

Part 2 here

Part 4 here

The next morning, Lan Zhan gathers up enough courage to leave his room - lonely and cold as he felt - to check on Wei Ying. He knocks three times, and enters when he is granted permission.

He finds Wei Ying already dressed, admiring himself in the large mirror of the room. "I didn't expect to look so much like myself in this new body. I think I look quite pretty!"

Lan Zhan allows himself to come up behind Wei Ying, maintaining a bit of distance between them so as not to frighten him or push his boundaries in any way. If he had lost the Wei Ying that loved him, at least he did not want to lose all of Wei Ying completely.

Lan Zhan glances into the mirror, watching Wei Ying. He seems fascinated with himself, tracing his features with his fingers in childlike wonder before moving on to admiring his clothing.

"You are very beautiful, Wei Ying."

"Thank you!" A little blush, "These robes such good quality, Lan Zhan!" And he does a half twirl. "I don't even remember the last time I wore something so fancy! Silk, embroidery, you must be spoiling me rotten!"

"Mn. I am."

Wei Ying turns to look in the mirror and begins messing with his hair. "Say, how do I usually style this?"

"Up, but sometimes you let me braid it."

"Then do you think you could braid it for me today?"

"Mn."

Wei Ying takes a seat at the vanity and is about to hand Lan Zhan a red ribbon, but he reaches to undo his forehead ribbon instead.

"That... means a lot to you."

"So do you. You always have."

"You used to get angry when I'd play with it."

"I've changed my mind."

Wei Ying hums, then silence blankets them. Lan Zhan allows himself to be absorbed with his task, carefully crossing sections of Wei Ying's hair in a simple, loose braid.

"Can I ask you some questions, Lan Zhan?"

"Mn."

"How did I die?"

Lan Zhan's fingers pause in Wei Ying's hair. "You never shared specifics, you just told me you became overwhelmed with resentful energy when trying to destroy the amulet. Why do you ask?"

"I had a... dream. Or a memory, a vision, I don't know. I wanted to see if it was true. Looks like it is."

"What else did you... see?"

"A ghost hand, Wen Ning, you... it was all convoluted, I couldn't tell you exactly what was happening, but it was a lot..."

"Would you like me to tell you?"

"Is it... okay for you to do that? I may not remember much but I can tell you're... devastated with whatever's happened to me that has me like this. You don't have to push yourself."

"I am not, it's alright." A lie, but Lan Zhan can't stand to see Wei Ying so confused and fearful anymore. Maybe he'll even remember some things if Lan Zhan recounts them to him.

"Okay, then tell me. What happened to me in all of these years?"

And Lan Zhan does. He tells Wei Ying about the ghost hand and Mo manor, about how he took Wei Ying to the Cloud Recesses so he wouldn't fall victim to sect leader Jiang's whims, about what happened in Yi City, about Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao and Guanyin Temple.

About the first time he drank and how much Wei Ying delighted in teasing him, about their song, about Sizhui and the other juniors, about their confession and their wedding and their honeymoon.

He has long finished braiding Wei Ying's hair, but he has done and undone it all throughout the story, more or less consciously, desperate to have even the slightest physical contact with him. Lan Zhan struggles so much with not being able to touch Wei Ying, to kiss him, to feel his body clinging to his own that he's going to take up every opportunity he can get to do so.

As the story ends with yesterday events, Lan Zhan finally weaves his forehead ribbon through Wei Ying's braid and lets go.

"Our life sounds like a fairytale." Wei Ying says, a dreamy lilt to his voice. "I can't believe this is how it turned out for me in the end."

Lan Zhan wants to kiss him and he wants to cry and he's so overcome with emotion -love, grief, desperation- that his breath stutters with it. Wei Ying places the braid on his shoulder and traces his fingers over the ribbon in it.

"There is something I saw in my... visions from last night that you haven't told me about."

"Hm?"

"I saw... you had scars. On your back, many of them. A discipline whip."

Lan Zhan exhales and closes his eyes.

"I used to have scars like that too." Wei Ying continues, his fingertips inevitably drawn to the ribbon, finding comfort in it subconsciously. "When the Wens invaded Lotus Pier, Wang Lingjao demanded I be punished for disrespecting Wen Chao. Madam Yu whipped me with Zidian to appease her. The scars never got to heal because I then gave my core to Jiang Cheng, so I had them all throught my... first life."

That knowledge has Lan Zhan unable to refrain from wrapping his arms around Wei Ying, enveloping him from the back like a shield against lashing that has long happened.

Wei Ying tenses a bit, but does not push away. Lan Zhan is relieved with it, and allows himself to squeeze Wei Ying a little harder, hiding his face in the space between his neck and shoulder.

"After Nightless City, I sought you out to take you somewhere safe and run away with you. Even if you kept pushing me away, I never let you go. But my sect found us hiding and demanded I hand you over. I refused and a fight broke out. I injured 33 elders and should have been executed, but brother and uncle pleaded that I be spared. So I received 33 lashes with the discipline whip as punishment. It took me 3 years to heal, but within months after, I came looking for you when I was told you were dead. That's how I found A-Yuan."

Wei Ying feels two matching droplets fall on his shoulder, and turns his head to leave a fleeting kiss on Lan Zhan's cheek. It's almost involuntary, he doesn't think of it when he does it, and it surprises them both.

"Wei Ying... you don't have to- for my comfort-"

"I want to. I think... I think I've always wanted to." A shy smile. "I never had the time to really think about... love, with everything that happened. But I think I've always loved you, I just never knew that the way I felt about you was called that."

Wei Ying finally stands up and turns to his husband. "When Wen Chao threw me in the Burial Mounds, I used to dream of you, sometimes. We would be in the library and you'd silence me while you worked so I'd write the rules, or you'd catch me sneaking wine in, things like that." A small laugh. "It made living there a lot easier. Just the thought of you gave me hope. It does even now. I don't know if this can be fixed, and while I've done a lot of impossible things, it's never a guarantee I'll succeed this time too. But just knowing you're here with me is enough to make me want to try regardless."

"Wei Ying..."

"Even if I don't remember a lot of things, I know that I love you, that I feel safe with you, that you're my home and my future and my everything. And even if I never get my memories back, I'll just make new ones with you!"

Lan Zhan can't stop himself from kissing Wei Ying now, and he's yelling at himself in his head about it, about overstepping boundaries and losing Wei Ying because he can't control himself.

But Wei Ying kisses him back and all those doubts fade away.

Eventually, they break apart, breathless and teary-eyed.

"I know I'm not your Wei Ying right now-"

Lan Zhan cups his face, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. "You are. Always have been, always will be, no matter what happens. You're mine and I'm yours."

Wei Ying burrows in his husband's arms, holding him tight. "I wish to never forget this again."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts #theres one more part. i say. with no suspicious intent.

[torchickentacos]

15 Questions!

Tagged by @gaycey-sketchit !!!!! Thank you so much for the tag, and I loved reading yours! Long post, sorry lol.

1. Are you named after anyone? Nope! Not to my knowledge, anyways. Though if my mom told me that she named me after Taylor Hawkins from Foo Fighters, I would not be shocked.

2. When was the last time you cried? I think monday? I cry really often, at every single emotion. Happy? I'm going to cry about it. Laughing? My high school theatre class would always point out when they made me cry laugh. Sad? ABSOLUTELY crying about that. I didn't cry but I DID tear up yesterday because I was really happy about something nice someone said to me.

3. Do you have kids? Nope, and no intention of having them. Regardless of my desire to or not (usually not, being the oldest of four is enough for me), my health is not, and never will be, in an acceptable position or ability to go through that, and I've accepted that for a while now.

4. What sports do you play/have you played? As a kid, I played soccer and did gymnastics! In middle school, I BRIEFLY did fencing. My mom told me that when I was fencing is the only time she's ever seen me look truly graceful (lmao, love my mom dw. She's right). Then health stuff came up and I had to stop, but fencing just came as easily to me as breathing did. I always wonder where I'd be if I could have stuck with it. Nothing's ever immediately clicked with me the way fencing did, but it's hell on my joints.

5. Do you use sarcasm? Sometimes, usually when I'm annoyed which isn't TOO often. Or if I'm being hyperbolic for a joke.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people? No clue. I guess their demeanor- if they seem happy or not, if they look stressed, how they're feeling (or how I perceive them as feeling, I guess).

7. What's your eye color? Blue! My friend swears up and down that they're kind of green. I think she's colorblind.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings!!! I am not built for scary movies. I can do some buzzfeed unsolved and I can watch markiplier play indie horror games but that's kind of my limit. I LOVE some types of horror, but my anxiety does not. I will be paranoid for a month after.

9. Any talents? I can play music by ear. Give me a guitar and a random song and ten minutes at most!

10. Where were you born?

11. What are your hobbies? Landscape/scenery art (also other art but it's much harder), writing, playing guitar (used to play piano too but not well. I also own a ukulele that I'm bad at, but generally I can play something on any instrument you give me). But mostly, I pick up and put down hobbies all the time. I've dabbled in crochet, embroidery, sewing, painting, archery, coding, needle felting, gardening, cooking, a little bit of everything. Never long enough to get good at most of them, though. I get bored too quickly.

12. Do you have any pets? A lovely husky (shelter girlie <3) and a gecko! And, for the gecko, a bunch of crickets at any given point in time, which I guess counts because I have to take care of them, too.

13. How tall are you? 5'2 and a half. 5'4 with my doc martens.

14. Favorite subject in school? Assuming lunch doesn't count, I was a theatre girlie. Assuming THAT doesn't count, English. I liked English because if I didn't have an answer, I could just bullshit one, but I usually did enjoy it and had real answers. I'll tell you why the curtains are blue and why they're the specific fabric they are and what the rest of the room means- if I'm interested, anyways.

15. Dream job? Oh boy, uh. Still trying to figure that out. DREAM job, like, without worrying about money or my physical ability to do it? Pro fencer, but I gave up on that a looong time ago. I genuinely believe I could have done it if my knee hadn't gone to shit at fourteen. I'd love to work in a record store or a music store, though, which is a little more in-reach.

Tagging: Anyone who sees this, lmk if you do it from this post!! But also, NO PRESSURE AT ALL but @soulsilversprings @nowandevermore @lostlegendaerie @mozukumi !!! Also whoever else wants to, I get nervous to tag people so assume you're tagged, too!

#taylor's tag #long post #thank you for the tag andrew!!!!

[rnakamura22]

In the next life, I want to be complete strangers with you

Ever since our second meeting, you’ve changed. Perhaps I had hurt you in some way. But you truly changed.

Saying that you have become a demon due to “The love I have for you!” Kissing me easily when you bear no hate or feelings toward me! Ha! It is truly laughable the more I think about it. Especially when everyone knows, I know the most through my skin that you loathed me, never wanted to tie the knot with me! How could you love me, a being who is worthless enough to be uncountable among people in your world? A soulless being that is not allowed to enter your heaven?

A woman’s life is truly tragic and laughable. If Edward said was true, my life is nothing more than a child’s play, abducted and thrown around by you! I should have never dreamed of hearing the secret you bear, since you bear no feelings for me. How could my soulless being be sublimated to a human to enter heaven?

Maybe if I was a man, it would be happier for both of us. I would fight with you on the battlefield, and you would be able to tie the knot with someone you truly love.How fitting for me, a woman who suck at embroidery.

Ever since I became Queen, I knew of many gazes that stabbed me repeatedly. And among one, a silver knife like gaze that stabbed me through the heart fatally. They say that gold is supreme to silver, but I disagree. There was an exception. The silver gained your passionate love, and the gold gained an empty circle of death, humiliation, and despair. It was a losing battle from the start, and I wasn’t even allowed to dream or feel any emotion or jealousy.You tried to hide it, but you see me as truly idiotic if you thought it could deceive me. You have become a demon just like the others, obsessed with the circle of light and death. I never wanted to meet you, I wanted you to let me go. I didn’t want you to stop me. But you made my last wish come true. I suppose that is you way of love, and I’m truly thankful.

oh, and now you are worried about me? They say in the times of death, people show their true emotion towards the person that is about to die. I suppose that it is true. “Out of the way! Anne is my wife!” Truly laughable. The title “Queen” that many woman wish for, the title “ husband and wife” cannot grow to be a thorn that ties me down, when you are the one that are cutting it and I miserably keep tying myself down with thorns repeatedly. If I could not be loved by you and I loved you, maybe it would have been easier if I rushed off to another man’s arms. It would have been easier for both of us, wouldn’t you agree?

“Get into bed Anne, it is not good for you to be up.” The audacity to keep saying soulless words! I wanted to spit it out right now. “My heart does not move anymore due to your soulless words.” But Edward must come first. If he is living a new life and be happy, when I know for sure that we have not lost him, I have no more regrets.

“Thank you Richard. Now, I can die in peace.” This is my farewell to you. I love you, I feel happy when I think about you, and I truly wish for your happiness. But the hate and sadness exists there. You know it better than anyone that I will not get well. You don’t believe it, and you never wished for it. “Don’t be foolish! You’ll get well soon!” The soulless words! But maybe I am the biggest fool for loving you and never being loved back. I wonder what would you do if I died and your beloved half would come back to life. It seems like the only way that I can make you happy.

My mind became clear as daylight, and I feel like I am lively and young again. Despite the noise of the servants, I began to move. Then get out of my room. Aiming to go outside and far away. Where I could feel like I can run away from every sorrow.

“Anne!” You are calling me again. “ What are you doing!? It is not good for you to be up at all! Get back into bed!”

You don’t touch me and you are worried about me? When you never wanted me? How contradicting! You have become kind enough to care about one soulless women that people claim as your queen! When the chair next to you has been empty all along, when there was no queen but only one soulless pitiful woman.

“It is none of your worries, Richard. I am lively again and well! Just like you told me! Thank you!”

When I say that, your beautiful eyes quiver. Why? Do you not loathe me Richard?

“Please… come back to bed Anne. You will worsen with such state!”

“Do you want me to?”

“ Of course I do!”

“ I will if you come to my room later.”

One last conversation, one last wish of a soulless queen. Isn’t a king able to grant any wish? You have said it yourself!

“ I will… please get back into bed. I cannot bear to see you in such state and let your health worsen.”

Such soulless words seems heartwarming when you are on your last breath.

That night, I stared at the window where Edward left. Even though it was my wish, I still could not bear the fact that he is gone. Winter was to come with me, and there would be no spring.

“Anne.” A kind voice. He must have said it to his beloved half or other people in his heavens. How kind to use it to soulless woman like me that are not allowed to enter it.

“ Richard…you’ve really came.” The words meant no meaning. It came out of my mouth naturally.

“ How could I not? But… Please lie down, it isn’t good for you.”

I obey him and get back in bed within my last strength.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask with a kind voice.

“ I believe this is my last breath. I know that in a few moments I will die. I wish that you will not cry at my funeral Richard. I do not want to see alligator tears.”

“ Do not speak that way! You will get better soon! Are you questioning my feelings for you? You will recover, I know it! ”

“It is not something to worry about Richard.!Death seemed like a fearful enemy, but now, I feel this sickness is a gift from god himself. He gifted me with the freedom I never had, and death seemed like a long lost friend that wanted the best for me.”

“Please do not speak any more of tragic things Anne,.. you have a duty to live… I cannot bear to lose you…”

“ When all waits for my death?”

You lose your words.

“ you have said it yourself some time ago, all… my sister..my family… all are waiting for my death. Doesn’t that include you Richard? “

“ Anne..”

“ I wonder what can I possibly do to make you happy. Since because of me, you’ve suffered unnecessarily. Trying to include a soulless being in your heaven and kingdom.”

“Anne.. wait..”

“ I hope in the next life… I want to be complete strangers with you Richard. Wouldn’t that be simply great? You will be what you were.. an admired noble person while loving your self and your beloved half and gaining a heir. I will be a simple girl in a town far away, not being worth of counted among people living on my own free will. I will be invited to a ball you attend, and we will dance for the first and last time. It would be simply magical. Then, the next morning you and I will go back to our lives. Nothing had happened and we will never see each other. Wouldn’t that be perfect? Wouldn’t that be splendid and what would make every wish come true?” I say this so smoothly. One of my last voices that says the bitter truth between us.

“Stop with the nonsense Anne! Do not say such sad things! You and I will be together in the next life, never complete strangers!” You hold me with your snow like arms. How lovely for a last breath of a soulless woman.

“ When I wasn’t even allowed to dream? When you wished for my death? When you loathed me from the start? Why?”

My voice just keeps speaking. Saying with the voice that was gifted from God himself. Giving me the freedom, the peace, and the bravery. Your lovely face began to quiver again, when I say the past words created from you that was the only thing not soulless. How everyone wished for my death. Including you. How you wished for the erase of my existence most of all. I say it with the uttermost bitterness.

“I hope I will be complete strangers with you in the next life Richard, but that doesn’t mean I do not love you. I am always wishing for your happiness. That is all.” I say this with the greatest smile on my face, a smile that seemed like dead, while gaining life at the time of death. That is the truth. The person who has brought me happiness and sorrow, the person I loved. But I do not want to meet you ever again. I only want to meet you when I dance with you again. The time that I could soar into the sunlight like a free skylark. But I know I won’t be the person that you have the last dance with. I know where to draw the boundaries.

Until that time comes, I bid you eternally farewell.

#requiem of the rose king #anne neville #richard iii

[darkacademiaarchivist]

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

TIME FOR DOING EMBROIDERY AND LOSING MY MIND OVER MAG 160; THE EYE OPENS (oh god oh no oh god)

(i think the first time i was listening to this i was makind dinner and i was just. losing. my. shit. Obviously)

(teasing) Anyways, don’t tell me the phonebox down there doesn’t appeal to your retro aesthetic.

can we talk about how Jon REMEMBERED a small thing Martin said ONCE while he still kinda hated him?

MARTIN: I mean, they’ve finished all the interviews? Apparently they’re calling it a “terror attack.” ARCHIVIST: Doesn’t surprise me. (heh) Appropriate, in a way.

..... (imagine the news tho if it got out that legit paranormal stuff was happening)

ARCHIVIST: Let me know if you see any good cows MARTIN: Obviously I’m going to tell you if I see any good cows.

isnt it funny how nothing after this moment ever happened :'))) (i swear EVERY TIME i see cows i go "omg good cows / is that a tma reference??"

Hello Jon. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

NO GOD PLEASE NO

[The Archivist makes a pained couple of sounds out-of-statement-character, as if he’s trying to tear himself away from the statement and physically cannot.] [When he picks the statement back up, the words sound like they’re being torn from his lips.]

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW FANTASTIC JONNYS VOICE ACTING IS HERE???? he even sounds like Elias...... help

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

because you're a stupid bitch man jonah, hope this helps <3

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps...

"why is it always immortality, why does no one ever want anything more interesting?" (jonah magnus is a basic bitch)

All this talk about the freedom of being evil and destroying the world... i mean i guess but you could also.... not do this?! have you considered the joy of making the world a tiny bit better. he's a coward.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

WAIT HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT?? i thought that was one of that fanon quotes

Jonah / Elias' backstory is so interesting and i wanna punch him i HATE that his plan worked. i'm 100% convinced tho that the web was always pulling some strings, Jonah is giving himself waaaay too much credit

Gertrude would HATE knowing that she contributed to him figuring out his ritual...

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

ELIAS I WILL STAB YOU WITH MY NEEDLE!!! (i know we say Elias is gay AND homophobic but he said gay rights here)

i gotta saw the summoning, for lack of a better word, is a absolute BANGER; it's so powerful

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

CLOSE THE DOOR JONATHAN

MARTIN (frantic) Wake up. Wake up. Wait, John, John, John, WAKE UP! [He slaps the Archivist; the Archivist immediately shudders awake with a disoriented yell.]

😭😭😭

No. No, it’s everywhere. They’re all here now. (voice shaking – but in awe?) I can feel all of it.

wouldn't it be funny tho if the apocalypse was just contained to the UK? if they hadn't left the EU it would be the EU too but the fears respect their decisions.

Look at the sky, Martin. Look at the sky. It’s looking back.

this quote HAUNTS me TO THIS DAY!!!!

@a-mag-a-day

#the amount of comments i wrote for this one makes me once again wish for a tma script book #i'd annotate the SHIT out of that #and assign like a coloured tab to each fear #a mag a day #the magnus archives #mag 160 #my post #tma spoilers

[daisysolovely]

Aemma Targaryen 3

A ruby eye

Hiiii, first of all, thank you for all the support you had shown to the last two parts. it gave me a lot of motivation to continue writing ;)). Secondly, this part happened shortly after Losing an eye and it will feature more of Aemond. I am not very happy with it, ngl as I've had a lot of things going on right now so I might not be in my best condition to write. But I simply feel the need to write this down. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this XD and have a nice day

Summary: A surprise gift from the eldest prince, Aegon II.

The Aemma's series: Losing an eye, Aemma's dragon, A Pawn, A Proposal

P/s: I am not a native English speaker so pls forgive me if there are any linguistic mistakes. Secondly, I am an inexperienced writer so I'll very much appreciate it if you could leave your feedback in the comment section ( your thoughts, opinions,...) You can also send your feedback via the ask me section if you wish to remain anonymous. Thank you, XD But you also don't have to... if you don't want, I mean. Another p/s: I'm sorry in advance that I am now unable to reply to your comments as my account has some kind of a glitch :( I'll reply to all of your comments as soon as I could, I've already contacted Tumblr so finger-crossed.

The event of Aemma losing her eye stirred a sensation in the court. Everyone seemed to make it their business, whispering to each other the unsavoury thing about the cursed princess. But when Aemond decided to take his eye out, everyone was scandalised. 

Strangely enough, all fingers were pointed toward the princess rather than the prince. Aemma couldn’t forget the mumblings she would hear whenever she passed by someone. The maids were seemingly afraid to be in her presence. 

The cursed princess was now a monster in the court’s eyes. 

Aemma could hardly recall a peaceful day in her life after her loss. She was constantly on guard, always wary to be in someone’s presence. And she felt as if she could only rely on her family. While she had that feeling before, the princess never truly felt so lonely in her life. 

But there was also a few good thing came out of that event. The king had appointed a new knight for her, Ser Andarien Musgood. Bless him, as the man was a gentle soul, only assisted when needed and the princess almost didn’t notice him most of the time. Unlike her previous knight, Ser Andarien treated her like she was normal without any impairment and allowed her the freedom she wished. So, you can often find the princess walking on her own, a knight at a respectful distance. In addition, Aemma had made friends with a new maid who got transferred to serve her after the other maids showed their reluctance around the cursed princess. 

Patiently embroidering a handkerchief, Aemma listened to the maid while slowly following her instruction. So far, according to the maid, Aemma had finished one-third of the handkerchief, a big accomplishment for the young princess, especially considering she had never embroidered before and couldn’t see. The princess wasn’t sure if it was decent and could only place her confidence in her maid who assured Aemma that her handkerchief was beautiful. 

“Do you think my brother will like it?” Asked Aemma as she felt the stitch of the embroidery, trying to imagine it in her mind. She had asked her maid to pick out a black handkerchief and then decided to embroider their family’s sigil on it. The sigil was a challenge, even for those who could see. But Aemma had proven that she was as stubborn as her family, determined to finish it all by herself. 

Before the maid could answer, another voice interrupted her. “Like what, sister?” Questioned Aegon as he made his presence noticed, his voice had its usual slur from all the wine he had consumed that day. Yet, his posture was oddly steady as he paced toward his sister who sat near the fireplace. “I haven’t seen you for days, dear sister.” He stated. 

Chuckling, Aemma set her work aside, handing it to her maid who put it away before leaving the room for the two. Only when the cursed princess sensed the privacy that she begin to respond to her brother’s question. “I think, we are both aware of who’s the absence one.” She said softly, perfectly dodging his first question. 

“If you must know, I have a matter to attend to.” The prince announced, but they knew he couldn’t fool Aemma. She might be blind, but she wasn’t stupid. “But in all seriousness, sister, you haven’t been out of your chamber recently.” Concern laced in his voice as the boy sat down on the ground, his head resting on Aemma’s lap as the princess let out a sigh, her hand automatically playing with his silver lock. 

Aemma contemplated telling her brother the truth as she averted her focus on the texture of his long curls. Aegon’s hair was different from Aemond's and her uncle Daemond's and even more compared to her two sisters. His had a curlier end and seemed wilder, untameable like its owner. Aemma loved its texture, however, and could play with Aegon’s hair for hours as it felt funny on her fingertips. Additionally, the second princess had taken notice of how at ease Aegon’s body seemed to be whenever she caressed his hair. The princess took it as a sign that her brother perhaps enjoyed this as much as she. 

“I want to be alone for a while, Aegon. It’s nothing.” 

“Even away from me?” The prince questioned in disbelief. Ever since they were little, Aemma had been unseparated from Aegon as the prince was practically her tail. Honestly, she was grateful for him, but with the recent event and the court’s reaction, Aemma needed time for herself. “You wish not to see me?” 

“Of course not, an impertinent accusation you’re making, Aegon.” Scolded Aemma lightly as her lips pressed into a thin line. “I just need time to digest my new… appearance, that’s all.” 

“Did someone say something?” Aegon looked up from Aemma’s lap, pausing the princess’s movement. 

“People talk, naturally. That’s how life at Red Keep is, they talk, and you ignore them” She muttered. 

“I’ll take their tongue out.” The prince snarled. His eyes went red as the thought of a low life dared to insult his sweet sister. And for what? She was perfect!

The princess huffed, annoyed by his cruel remark. “Then you would have quite a busy day ahead of you, brother.” For a moment, she let her bitterness slip past her usual calmness. “That would include your grandsire as well, I’m afraid.” 

Aegon’s eyes widened before he frowned. His sharp jaws clenched tightly. Otto was a touchy subject for him and the prince could understand his sister’s intolerance for that man. But he wished not to include the man in his conversation with Aemma, the only thing Otto hadn’t had any control over. 

Therefore, the conversation was left unspoken as Aegon silently reached for his sister’s hand. The prince squeezed her hand, sending a silent assurance toward his sister. 

The princess was glad he left the topic where it was as she was growing rather uncomfortable. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she squeezed his hand back, sending the same message back to her brother. 

The two sat in complete silence for what felt like hours, enjoying the rare moment of calmness as there was only the sound of the fireplace and soft wind from the window. However, Aemma’s instinct pulled her away from the peace as she cleared her throat. The princess squeezed her brother’s hand again, catching his attention. Once the cursed princess was certain his focus was now back on her, she said “I’m not a fool, Aegon. I know where you ‘attend your matter’ and that your drinking has got significantly worse.”

Aegon frowned, how on the seven hells did his sister know what a pleasure house was? “I might not understand your desire to visit such a place, it concerned me if I must admit.” She admitted wholeheartedly. Aemma didn’t know what activities occurred in that place, but she had a feeling that it wasn’t any good. Yet, Aegon seemed to frequent the place a lot. 

“I won’t visit that place anymore if that’s what you wish, mandia.” sister. Said Aegon sincerely. Whores, lust and wines could never compare to his sister who provided him with the ultimate pleasure without knowing every day. He would quit everything in an instant if that was what it took to please Aemma. It would be worth it as nothing but Aemma mattered to the prince. 

That doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be a challenge for Aegon to stop his playboy life.

“Just promise me you’ll be safe.” 

“I will.” Said Aegon and that was probably the only promise the prince kept for the rest of his life. 

—----------

Aemond listened attentively as Aemma told him about her latest trip to the garden with Heleana and all the bugs Heleana had described. The young prince bathed in the peaceful comfort she somehow managed to provide him despite all the events in their life. He stared at her face, trying to shake away the dizziness he would feel from time to time due to his lost eye. The prince had still adjusted to the lack of vision in his right eye. 

His gaze fell under the nasty scar that occurred on Aemma’s right eye, the swell wasn’t as intense as the first few days but it was a frightened look on a lady’s face. The corner of his lips turned downward the longer his eye rested on the scar. He wondered how Aemma managed to appear so lively as he still struggled to accept his appearance and he was the one who commited the act. Meanwhile, Aemma had lost her eye against her will and still had the same positive attitude. Aemond had lost count of the number of mirrors he destroyed every time he caught a glimpse of himself. 

She was truly an angel, the boy admired. 

Aemma stopped her tale upon the silence of her company dawned on her. Smiling, she asked gently. “A penny for your thought, lēkia” brother

Aemond bit his bottom lip lightly as his heart raced quickly. He wasn’t the type to share his feeling even as a child for every time he did, he was made fun of by his brother and nephews. But Aemma would never do that to him, the prince reassured himself, she wasn’t like them. She would never and could never do anything wrong. 

Since the moment Aemma pushed him, the cursed princess had become a goddess in his heart and evidently, his goddess could never hurt him. Thus, he swallowed hard and gathered his courage. “Don’t you feel frustrated?” Asked the prince and surprised the princess. 

Aemma flipped her head to Aemond’s side, and her silver hair swayed under the sunlight. “For what, darling?” 

“You lost an eye unwillingly and now you are surrounded by these horrendous rumours.” 

“Ah, that.” Aemma cleared her throat as she shifted her posture lightly. “Father had solved it already though.” The king had, indeed, taken matters into his hand, threatening those who dare speak ill of his beloved daughter will face the sharp blade of the Dark sister. The rumours had since died down. “And I think a normal person would unlikely want to lose their eye under a normal circumstance.” She laughed softly. 

“But admittedly, yes, I am frustrated. But before you blame yourself, I am not frustrated by my lost eye, I could hardly feel the loss and the struggle of it.” Aemma’s hand reached out habitually and a hand was placed in hers. With a smile, she squeezed it gently. “I am furious that I am too weak to defend myself and at the court. Never you, Aemond for you do not fault this matter.” 

“I claimed Vhagar, thus causing this.” Said the boy. 

“You did, but that’s a bit complicated, isn’t it? I used to be like you before, you know until uncle Daemon flew me to Dragonstone and I met Vermithor.” The princess smiled at the fonded memory she had with the Rogue prince. “I couldn’t blame you as I understand the oppression this family had for those who have yet to claim a dragon. Not all of us were blessed with a dragon since birth.” She squeezed his hand one more. “So no, I am not mad at you.” 

“Are you worried, Aemond?” Aemma tilted her head slightly. 

Aemond nodded, then answered her question. “I look hideous.” The boy went to put his palm over his mouth once the realisation of his words dawned on him. Yet, Aemma only shook it off, taking no offence to his words. She couldn’t see but she was certain if she could, she would have the same feeling. Besides, he was young and feeling insecure was a natural thing at that age, thought the princess as she could recall all the shame and insecurity she faced every day. 

“Well, take this with a pinch of salt. But appearance doesn’t matter. It never will be, brother. Your action will be the thing that determines your success and how others treat you.” Aemma would know that well. At a fairly young age, she had learned to read people through their actions only as appearance wasn't something she could judge. And the cursed princess supposed it was a great lesson as you should never judge a book by its cover. 

Like her family and its glory… who knew it was so rotten underneath?

Hearing the silence from Aemond, Aemma sighed as she continued. “Trust me, I of all people would know this best. And besides, you could always make the ladies swoon with your swordsmanship. I have heard promise thing from Ser Criston.” 

A blush appeared on Aemond’s cheeks as the boy shyly traced a line on Aemma’s fingers. “You think so?” 

“Yes, I believe so, keep on practising. Maybe one day, you will be the next Rogue prince.” Jested the princess as a sweet laugh escaped her pouty lips. But Aemma knew that would be unlikely for her shy Aemond could never be ruthless like her uncle. Little did she know, Aemond took the jest very seriously. 

But the conversation was cut short as Aegon, like the drama prince he was, made his presence known. Upon seeing his brother, Aemond immediately pull his hand away from Aemma, knowing how displeased Aegon could get when someone touched their sister. And he used to be interrupted whenever he stay alone with Aemma, but the one-eye prince barely reacted. 

“You’re causing a scene again, aren’t you?” Aemma giggled softly, knowing who the intruder was the moment she heard the loud noise of pacing and clearing his throat. 

Aegon laughed and Aemond found his brother oddly smiley today. The boy changed his posture, getting his guard on. 

“I’m just happy to see my brother and sister bonding so well.” Said the eldest prince as he emphasised the word bonding while giving his brother a sneer. 

“You should join us then, I was talking about a new bug Heleana had shown me this morning. It was such a tiny creature, Aegon.” The princess didn’t see the exchange between the two brothers as she gushed over the creature Heleana had given to her. Sadly, Aemma couldn’t recall its name and had mentally noted to ask her sister for it later on. She wished Heleana could join her as well now that her two brothers were here. She was sure her sister would be thrilled to have more than the cursed princess’s boring company. 

“I would love to join you, sister. But I have something I wish you to have.” Aegon said as he practically shoved himself in between Aemond and Aemma, causing the one-eye prince to fall from the bench. But the eldest prince didn’t even flinch, finding his brother rather pathetic. Claiming the biggest dragon couldn’t even help you stronger, apparently…. 

Hearing the loud thud stirred Aemma as she flinched, gripping the hand of the person next to her, Aegon who smiled from ear to ear. “Aegon? Where is Aemond?” Confusion dawned on the cursed princess’s face. 

“Oh, he just fell over.” 

Aemma frowned and scooped over to the middle of the bench as she pat the empty spot on her left. “Come, Aemond, sit here.” She had a feeling that Aemond didn’t just fall as the boy wasn’t clumsy by nature. 

“Aemma.” Whined Aegon once he realised his sister’s focus was lying solely on Aemond who was cooed by the said princess as she checked for any injury on his body. 

“I’m sorry, what is it, love?” The princess turned her head to Aegon’s side, using the endearing term she knew he always loved. For some reason, Aegon had always been fonded of endearing terms that were often associated with lovers. Aemma never questioned it, however, as she found no problem in using the term. 

A content smile blossomed on Aegon’s face as he gave his brother a smirk over Aemma’s shoulder. Quickly, he took a round object from the bag he had on him previously and proudly presented it to Aemma. The prince gently placed the object on his sister’s hand and watched with pride as she tried to figure out its identity. 

Aemma was stunned by how cold the object felt and its roundness as well. She thought it was a toy at first due to its shape but the texture didn’t feel right on her hand. As her fingers traced the shape of the object, it was oddly smooth. Curious and impatient, Aemma finally pestered Aegon to tell her what it was and the prince was enjoying the attention he got a bit too much. 

“It’s a ruby.” Said Aegon. “My mother gave it to me when I was younger and… with the recent event, I thought perhaps you would need some replacement for your eye.” Explained the prince. “And ruby seems worthy enough to be that replacement.” As you’re as precious as it is, those were words he left unsaid. 

“Oh, you don’t have to…” Aemma was speechless. In reality, she had never thought about using gemstone to replace her eye for she never really need one. But the idea didn’t seem bad, she contemplated. Aemma disliked eyepatch as she struggled to put it on herself and sevens hells knew she had tried a lot. So perhaps a shiny little stone would help distract people from her scar. She had to applaud Aegon for the genius idea and for the precious gift. Now her handkerchief was paled in compairision… 

“It was no trouble at all.” The eldest prince waved off, your happiness is what matter. “So, would you consider the idea at least? I choose red so you can match our house’ colour.” 

Orginally, Aegon wished to pick an Emerald stone for her. But the idea disturbed him for he didn’t not want his sister to be involved with the Hightower and end up miserable like he was. So the prince decided to avoid the colour he wore daily the most and choose red instead. Beside, it was fitting for her, a Targaryen and the rider of one of the largest dragons - Vermithor. Red suited her best, he always found so. 

Smiling, Aemma pulled Aegon into a bear hug as no words could show the appreciation of her for the efforts he pulled into this. Aegon wasn’t the most affection person and certainly wasn’t someone with a heart of gold. So she was thankful he would do this for her even though the idea of replacing her lost eye with a gemstone was a touch extravagant. 

Aegon buried his nose on the hook of Aemma’s shoulder, enjoying the embrace. Closing his eyes, the prince hoped this moment would never past by. Truthfully, he loved the feeling of getting praised or be appreciated by the cursed princess. It fueled his pride knowing only him capable enough to fulfil her happiness. And he was proud of himself as well, he had solved her problem, didn’t he? Now she need not to care about those stupid sheeps’s opinion and could focus her energy on him instead. 

Sitting beside Aemma, the one-eye prince clenched his fist tightly as he gazed sharply at his brother who was in the arm of Aemma at the moment. All he saw was green and as he swallowed, all he tasted was bitterness. It was always about him, that thunder stealer. Aemond was glad they shared something in common, her and him. But Aegon had to ruin everything. Sure, he would never stand at the same level as Aemma for she was a goddess and he was simply an unworthy follower. Yet, Aemma’s confession showed his hope that perhaps, he could touch her. Now,... as he watched the maester put the ruby in Aemma’s eyesocket, she was so close yet so far… like how he always saw her… untouchable. 

@yor72

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