#have mercy on us queenie

[bollywoodqueenkatrina]

#Katrina Kaif #instagram #bollywood #bollywood2 #katrinakaifedit #social media #my edit #have mercy on us queenie #so much beauty

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - People of Earth we have VERSE rep in 2 Thai BLs! Amazeballs!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 2 of 8 (10?) - Everyone seems to be a bit of a player and I’m not mad about it. It’s nice to see high-grade flirting, and I really love how very gay the leads feel. Not BL gay. Actual gay. We shall see how it goes, I suspect we are in "messy gay" territory in which case, I predict utter carnage and that this show will drop ranks precipitously for me. But right now? Of all the Thai BLs airing, I'm enjoying this the most. How bizarre. 

I like the side couple (thrupple?) too, despite the prat fall kiss and possible cheating. They very pretty:

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 4 of 8 - oh dear NO honeychild, face masks are gross tasting!

Rule no 966 of the BL world. He’s never asleep. 

Argh Achi wants Ji so bad. Nice mutual kiss tho, despite Ji's baggage. I guess Ji knew what would happen if Achi stayed? But why is he so scared? Just deeply closeted? The backstory is very high school achy and I feel like it explained Achi but not Ji. And the crying in the movie was lovely, so we totally understand Achi's but Ji is just messed up and confused? I admit to being a bit confused too. Why is Ji the one so angry?

On a totally different aside, I really like how the set dressing is done in Ji’s apartment. It looks lived in and not staged. Super rare in Thai BL. I'm reminded of Ai & Pond's dorm room in Love By Chance, which actually looked like a real college dorm.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 - Why is it always the pulps that actually trot out the best communication, conversation, consent, and healthy relationships? Yes I'm still wincing over the truly bad acting but I’m enjoying their good relationship. The sex scene was sweet and tender, although the likelihood of rose petals getting stuck places wigs me out. (Flower petals + lube = terrible combination. Just FYI.)

ALL PRAISE VERSE REP! And a bottom who owns it! Yay! 

1000 Years Old ep 5 of 12 - How ridiculously colorful and flirty they all are. There is nothing at all vampire about this show. I’m a bit bored by the restaurant plot but I'm tuning in for the bonkers approach to goth. How dare they be so cheerful with my precious emo youth, but also, how very Thai pulp of them.  

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube) ep 4 of 11 - oh it’s SO GOOD. Reading the yaoi and crying. COME ON TAIWAN HAVE MERCY. The red wrapping of the hands (red thread, yes yes we get it). The boy who doesn’t want to box for so many reasons. Not the least of which is how unpleasant it is to spar with a lover. 

This is easily the best BL currently airing and it is going to hurt us. But I don't care. I love it.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) eps 8 of 10 - This show is dangerously cute and I’m scared for everyone involved, including me.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Gaga) ep 2 of 6 - Poor baby thrown in all willynilly amongst a pack of queeny bitchy gay intellectuals. I'd be lost too. It's the worse kind of fight, one you have to philosophize your way out of.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 10fin - They are extremely adorable and it was a very good ending - mature, adult, and bittersweet. I liked it a lot. But I didn’t love it the way I wanted to.

The promise of this show, younger cook courts older divorced office worker, should have been my catnip. I mean if someone pitched this to me in an elevator I would have downloaded it by the second storey. Unfortunately, it did not exactly fulfill that promise, not in the way I'd hoped. Did I still enjoy the ride, yes, but I feel just a little let down. 8/10 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 5 of 8 - Honestly now I’m just shipping the two girls getting together. Frankly, I really don't like this show, and normally I'd DNF but there's only a few eps left and nothing else is airing rn.

It's done, ready to binge, maybe I'll finally get to it this weekend

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube)

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will watch eventually.

It's airing but...

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - it's finished now, I dropped it at ep 4. Should I bother?

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Thai ViuTV grey) 10 eps - I'm exhausted by this franchise and the variety pack style of BL. If there is a particularly good couple (or installment) I might watch it, but I'm letting others decide for me.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school, not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing for some reason.

Gossip

The choreo controversy - Deep Night vs OnlyOneOf. Look, like a musical rift, or a styling photoshoot, there are no new ideas in choreo, I feel like Madonna did this pose too, a long time ago. Certainly someone in the 80s. Or whatever. Anygay, it's an ironic thing to see a Thai BL being called out by a gay-branded Kpop group when both are exploiting eroticized homosexuality for commercial profit... just saying. (HOW DID WE GET HERE?) Not to mention that BOTH are ALSO exploiting the kink community. We live in interesting times, BLabies. In the end, it's a good publicity stunt all round. And I think Nine knows exactly what he's doing (and why he is doing it). Finally: Drama drama drama around coreo? That is V gay boys. Fun fun fun, carry on everyone.

Strike a pose.

You're being recorded for posterity.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting

3/21 Two Worlds (Thai IQIYI) 10 eps - One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames staring MaxNat. I'm over this concept but Asia flipping loves it and I do enjoy MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, 12 years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Tai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram apparently alive. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha to deal with. (Phupha is played by Gun Thanawat who was Khom, the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night. We like this, we scared of the love triangle aspect.)

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Forgive me a moment of industry noodling?

Have ya noticed that it's slender pickings right now but it shouldn't be? This is not the mid summer slump nor end of year lull. We should be getting some heavy hitters on first quarter release. (Side eyes GMMTV. Perhaps those painful Japanese acquisitions were a bigger issue than any of us realized?)

Anygay, IMHO, Thailand's BL bubble has popped and sponsor money is drying up. This is my shocked face:

Look, the 2021-2023 level of release and growth (exponential) was never gonna be sustainable, so I'm not surprised. I suspect that in 2024 Thailand will actually produce fewer BLs than 2023 (73, 64 in 2022, and 40 in 2021).

I know I'm sticking my neck out predicting any film industry but... I have seen this kinda thing before and it just *feels* like shrinkage. Thai BL's load has been shot, my peeps. (Not to be crass or anything.)

Oh, don't worry you pretty head about it, it's not going away, just getting less prolific.

Don't we all in our old age?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

My favorite trope, sniff him!

Queen. (both Deep Night)

King. (City of Stars)

Verse rep verse rep verse rep!!! Can you see me doing a little dance this side of the screen?

(Last weeks summation)

Streaming services are listed by how I'm (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

#thai bl #to be continued the series #city of stars #thai bl pulp #japanese bl #AntiReset #taiwanese bl #unknown the series #Although I Love You and You #Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka #1000 Years Old #To Be Continued #deep night the series #deep night #Although I Love You and You review #bl series review #upcoming bl #bl news #bl updates #this week in bl

[slashing-bunni-farm]

The Amazing Digital HorrorShow! TADC au + oc

An AU where Pomni becomes trapped in this digital world but instead of a bright and cheery circus, it’s a map of survival and brutal entertainment. Caine is more mysterious in this au, not even revealing himself to those who enter his domain and watching the chaos to his own amusement. There are barely any rules here as much as there is mercy. At the end of each “day”, prizes and points are handed out to all residents of the realm. If you die, you do get to respawn! But be warned, some killers have found a way to make sure you stay dead. Plus, you feel everything that happens regardless, so no one really wants to take the chance of dying anyway.

Everyone in this realm has one goal, and that is to just win for Caines appeal and to go home. Kinger is the only one so far knowing that Caine won’t just willingly let anyone leave, so he’s in hiding. Rumor has it that he managed to build a survival bunker to keep out both killers AND prey. He honestly can’t open up to anyone ever since Caine used Queenie as an “example” for those that do try to escape this gladiator ring of an entertainment place.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fanart #amazing digital circus #gooseworx #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc zooble #tadc kaufmo #tadc oc #tadc gangle #tadc au #tadc fandom #character design #character concept #horror au

[neonlight2]

Jaehaera Targaryen (OC)

Masterlist

Jousting tournament

The commotion was endless. People of arrayed rank and standing surrounded the pit of dirt, which smelled a sweat, blood, and shit— horse and man. But such was carnage. Nobles frothed at the mouth for the violence. Those that claimed to be better than the common folk, who were too dirty, too uneducated, or too uncivilized to converse with. They all had the same hunger, built from pent up rage, to watch someone else crumble under the mercy of one far stronger. However, the question is if it is true?

Are the nobles truly so high? Or are they even more sickly, plagued with the ugly hide of greed, than those which serve?

***

“Why are we here Rhaenyra?” The girl known as the ‘new born dragon’, Princess Jaehaera, asked her sister by law. She was stuck in between Princess Rhaenyra and a mutual friend, Lady Alicent Hightower. Both knew she couldn’t be let out of sight, for she would disappear without a word to seek comfort in the training grounds or reading atop the dragons den.

“Because we are required to be here Issa qēlos, father expects us to be at social events.” (My star)

“No he expects you to be at social events with the Lords and Ladies of court,” she stated plainly with bored eyes. “I’m a bastard.”

Jaehaera received a quick glare from her sister before her hand was stolen, and their fingers were interwoven. “Don’t say that about yourself. My wrath does not stop for you, at you. I will not hear any slander of your—,”

“Oh please calm down Queenie, you know the term doesn’t hurt me.”

“Yes, but it’s disgraceful and treason for someone to say so Princess,” Alicent chimes in, holding the girls other hand.

Jaehaera was caged, that she knew, but she didn’t mind their warm and gentle touch. However, all of this was so new. It was taboo to a child of the underground city. She used to hate others touch, yet now she couldn’t help but feel starved for it.

“Yes but not to me.” She stated with no infliction, almost seeming amused by the notion. “So there’s no true, political reason for me to be here, watching an over-exaggerated cock fight then. You just wish to pester me.”

“Or I just wish for your company,” Rhaenyra remarks back playfully.

Rolling her eyes, Jaehaera leans over to whisper in her ear. “Bullshit. You just want to gawk at the knights.”

“Jaehaera!” Alicent gasped, covering her mouth to suppress her laughter.

“What? Don’t act so innocent Ali. Just because you’re not as shameless as Rhaenyra doesn’t mean I don’t see your quick glances at the knights build.”

Jaehaera had in fact caught Alicent a numerous of times in the act of checking out lords and knights. So there was no doubt when she caught the small pink about her friend’s cheeks once they entered the jousting grounds, that this was only the beginning. Alicent could barely deal with invited flirtations, let alone bare skin— which would absolutely be peaking out between the plates of armor that the men were clad with.

“You mean to have me believe that you wish to see no one here?” Rhaenyra asks with a curious smile expression, whilst saving Alicent from further embarrassment.

The bored looking princess hummed in confirmation, resting her forehead on Rhaenyra’s shoulder, crooning her temple to relief the stress building up in her skull.

“Not even Daemon?”

Rolling her eyes once again, Jaehaera pushed herself off of her cheeky sister, relying on Alicent to become her new cushion. To which the girl did not disappoint. “Don’t project onto me Nyra, and for your information—,” loud horns interrupted the girls, shooting off a protruding tune to which was not entirely pleasant. Although, the trio all had the same, simultaneous thought.

Speak of the devil.

Perking their heads up slightly to get a better look, the girls view the spectacle Prince Daemon like to call a proper entrance.

Rhaenyra marveled at her uncle’s display, finding it entertaining and him gorgeous in his specially designed armor to resemble that of a dragon’s wings. Daemon loved being a dragon that fact was well known. He prided himself greatly of being of magic and blood relation. This happened to be one of his many ways of showing of his pride, love, and power. Rather zealous, but he was never shy of dramatics.

However, Alicent couldn’t help but gulp in unease as her gaze flickered between her brother and the rogue prince; she feared the damage he could do.

“I see enough of Daemon as it is.” Jaehaera mutters the last of her answer, knowing very well Daemon now had all of Rhaenyra’s attention.

The crowd roared wildly at his entrance, knowing this would be a bloody tournament now. Everyone knew of the Rogue Prince’s thirst for victory and gore. He might be chaotic and a mischievous devil in daily court, but he was a monster on the battlefield— of any kind.

“And now it would seem Daemon has everyone’s attention,” Jaehaera huffed at Rhaenyra’s expression before hers morphed into disgust. Catching a glimpse of some officials betting on the participants welfare, others touching each other in the corners of as if they weren’t in the light of day, made her throat go rancid. “Just how he likes it.”

“Are you alright my princess?” Alicent asks, rubbing her friends back soothingly. “What is it?”

Before her friends eyes could be tainted by the revolting sight, Jaehaera faced Alicent with a wide smile— bright enough to fool anyone. She took her hands and nestled them along the soft of her face.

Crooning into her chilled palms like a cat, Jaehaera sighed. “Nothing, just another headache.”

Worrisome lines made their way into Alicent’s forehead, along with warming cheeks. “I told you to go see a maester. They’re happening too frequently—,”

“Lady Alicent!”

The shout almost made the poor girl leap within her seat, causing Jaehaera’s gaze to harden. Both glanced over to its origin, finding the center of attention beckoning theirs with childish desire.

Daemons expression was light and sneaky, his smirk resembling a cheshire cat, but the raven haired dragon knew better. She could see past his cocky facades, and she saw the dark intentions behind his eyes.

Jaehaera knew the man held no shame for his cruelty, finding it warranted almost always, but he was too prideful to admit other festering feelings. But she knew. She saw the way his eyes quickly flickered from Alicent’s hands, which were withdrawn in seconds, to the two girl’s eyes. Something new was brewing as the gears turned in his head.

Normally, this wouldn’t scare Jaehaera, but the way he was staring at Alicent made her stomach twist.

Whatever he was thinking… it was dangerous.

“My Lady,” Daemon reverberated with a sickeningly sweet tone. “I ask for your favor.”

Scoffing, Jaehaera stood before her friend could. Alicent could not refuse his request even if she wished; it would look poorly on not only her honor, but her father. But the thing that Jaehaera really didn’t like was that Daemon hadn’t even tried to play it off as a question. While the Princess had a good amount of hunger for trouble as well, she couldn’t stand upright arrogance— particularly when it was staring her in the face and directing itself shamelessly at her loved one.

Putting her hand behind her, a small gesture to urge her friend to remain calm and still, Jaehaera peered down at her devious ‘realative’. Resting her elbows against the railing she toyed with Daemons lance, which was protruding her personal space rather annoyingly she thought.

“Do you wish to make us jealous Uncle?”

Daemon’s expression scrunched up into something that could only be described as pure, utter disgust. It took a lot for Daemon to grimace like that, even Otto never seemed to succeed, but she knew he absolutely hated that.

Jaehaera was one of the only few people who could call Daemon anything. Anything. And he’d simply laugh, give a rebuttal, or smirk like the right bastard he is. But he could not stand her calling him Uncle.

In the first few months that’s all she called him, that or ‘my Prince’. And while he didn’t despise the latter, Daemon wasn’t fond of her formal use of the title. Jaehaera believed he held great destain for her in the beginning because of the fact. She thought maybe he thought her below him, being that they weren’t actually of the same blood nor status for that matter. If it weren’t for his constant pestering and relentless attention she would have continued to think so. It didn’t help that every time she asked him why he loathed when she called him Uncle— what she thought to be a term of endearment— and not in times with Rhaenyra, Daemon said the same thing.

“Because you are not Rhaenyra. You two are totally different people.”

So Jaehaera usually settled calling him asshole and bastard— sometimes if he was lucky enough however, she’d be in the mind to call him more loving names. Sadly, he learned the hard way that the easiest ways to retain them was whilst training with her, which ended more bruises than one would normally hope for.

“I only wish for Lady Alicent’s favor for luck my dear Princess. I’m going against her brother, who is quite skilled in this area of expertise I’ve heard.” Daemon replies, a more cunning spark lighting within his eyes.

Humming in a patronizing tone, Jaehaera glanced back at Alicent and gave her a reassuring smile. “I suppose she’ll want to give you the honor,” Alicent was quick to catch on and waived over her maid to retrieve her favor amongst the others in holding. “But now I have a conundrum Uncle.”

Exhaling deeply, in order to control his twitching eyebrows, Daemon smiled back at the girl. “And what’s that my princess?”

“My original plan was to give you my favor, but it doesn’t seem fair that you should get two…,” Jaehaera dragged out the last word as her friend slid her favor down his lance, decorating it with green and white flowers. “So, whoever shall I give it to now?”

The girl lets out a short sigh, tapping her face in ‘contemplation’. For who would she give it too? Who was worthy of a Princess’s favor, let alone one who is familiar with the sport herself.

“I guess I’ll have to find another after your joust.” Jaehaera stated with a light disposition, making Daemon’s jaw clench in slight irritation. He’d dig his own grave when the time came, along with the fellow he’d kill upon receiving her favor.

“We wish you luck Uncle,” Rhaenyra said with a fonder smile, diffusing the tension she noticed by looping her arm through Jaehaera’s, then giving a gentle tug.

Tipping his head in respect and genuine admiration, Daemon— though fully frustrated by the whole situation he had created— couldn’t help but enjoy the view of his two girls standing, linked together with foreboding expressions. His niece Rhaenyra’s filled with amusement and yearning for entertainment, whilst Jaehaera’s eyes were intense yet still twinkling in something Daemon had grown to be afraid and excited by.

“Thank you my princess, I hope to make you two proud.”

The raven haired dragon’s eyes flickered from Daemons, resting on her dear friend with sympathy. She may not have been close with Alicent’s brother, but she could imagine this to be a very scary predicament.

“Well let the joust begin then!”

All heads turned to face behind the four, landing on the king who had grown tired of the needless chitchat of his brother. Not to mention, he rather hated seeing his family so tense. More particularly his girls; he rather liked seeing Daemon squirm. He’d never admit it alas.

A thankfully smile etched its way onto Jaehaera’s face as they all bowed their heads at her father’s order. The trio sat, now with Alicent in the middle, for she was in need of most comfort. She held her friend’s hands with such a fierce grip; they could see the white of her bone pressing intently on her skin, waiting to break free. And her nerves only grew worse by the second.

Both contestants took to their side, raising their colors one last time before the horns screamed one last time, and the thunder of horse hooves sounded off twice as loud. Dirt splashed those on the lower stands, kicked back furiously by the horses as they charged forward. Their rider stuck true, leading a lance straight to the chest. Sir Hightower’s lance packed a greater force than Prince Daemons it would seem. It caught the royal’s chest plate, whilst his own broke in half. This, of course, only made the prideful man even more determined. If there was one thing Daemon loved more that a good challenge or chaotic beginning, it was to win. And win definitely.

At the start of the joust the newest Princess saw the look Daemon had shared with the hand of the king. He’d never been too fond of Otto, that much was clear, but letting his pettiness deep to his children— that was a new low. But he also never cared for rules, and who was going to stop him? The brother of the king? A warrior known amongst most men? Feared by most men?

Even his brother wished to see the outcome, overcome by a serene since of loyalty. He knew his brother would win, and while Daemon could be a pain in his ass, he always made his brother proud in these matters.

Jaehaera knew Daemon was out to maim, and after retrieving his second lance, her suspicions were confirmed. There was a tilt to his lance. Too quick for one not familiar with the sport to notice, so most gasps and screams occurred after Sir Hightower was flipped over his horse. Daemon had hit the poor creature instead. She took a quick glance to see her friend weeping silently into Rhaenyra’s shoulder— to hide it from the public. They would shame her for being ‘too emotional’. As if her brother being mauled and perhaps mutilated wasn’t an enough reason.

Oh, and how it made the girl’s blood boil.

Without a second thought, Jaehaera slipped her hand out of Alicent’s. Her prescience soon vanished.

***

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but feel bad for Alicent, who was currently sobbing into the collar of her neck. A few minutes ago she was shouting encouragements for her uncle, who she was just pleased to interact with. He had been gone for a while, off on one of his annual benders. Another he had not taken her and Jaehaera on, like he had promised.

But now, guilt ripped at the first Princess’s heart. She was too blinded to truly realize the circumstance, that her friends brother was the one against her bloodthirsty uncle. Rhaenyra only ever received the sweet and playful part of Daemon. Surely, she knew he could be cruel, but it was not something she had to be faced with, until now.

And while it wasn’t someone she directly cared about, Rhaenyra felt great empathy for her friend. She knew if it were someone she were close to, her state might have been worse. Oh, if it had been Jaehaera—

Eyes widening, the princess felt her stomach drop. “Jaehaera?”

Sniffling, Alicent shifted her head up slightly to view her friends shocked expression. Furrowed eyebrows followed not to long after, and her neck creeped the other direction. Finally her own eye drew tight, and both girls had a look of panic about them.

“Jaehaera?!” Alicent screamed, looking around the nobles sitting amongst them. She could barely be heard over the ongoing commotion though.

It was only until Otto and Viserys got sight of their otherwise deranged looking daughter’s approaching them that they were given any recognition.

“What is going on my child?” Viserys asked his daughter, holding out his hand for her to take.

Rhaenyra took it with haste, a worrisome feeling urging her to look all around her. She was just there, she thought. “Jaehaera’s vanished again.”

A hearty chuckle buffers the girls search, instead inflicting a sense of belittling. Here she was, in a panic to find her sister and Otto was laughing. Even his own daughter found it appalling.

Viserys had at least taken a moment to be wary. He let his eyes drift, hoping to put an end to his heirs suffering by spotting Jaehaera somewhere amongst the crowd. Everyone close to the girl knew she liked to wander; it was her nature to be curious and long for freedom. She wasn’t someone to be caged. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to be as anxious as Rhaenyra. He had grown accustomed to his daughter running off, and he trusted that she would go to one of her well know places. So when Otto laughed at their children’s faces, he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. They knew her as well as them, perhaps better. Why all the fuss?

“I’m sure she’s just gone to the library to learn another language,” Otto suggested after his amusement simmered. “Why she wishes to learn Dothraki is beyond me.”

“As is most of what my sister does.” Rhaenyra quipped, a pout of destain now on her face.

Scoffing to himself, Otto tilts his head in seeming agreement. “Quite.”

“I’m sure she just studying my dear, perhaps even training. I know she finds watching these tournaments rather dull.” Viserys reassures with a smile on his face.

“I know father but she would never leave when—,” Rhaenyra’s words get caught in her throat after feeling Alicent’s hand brush against her side. Her gaze wavering to see a pleasing look upon her friends face.

“When what Princess?” Otto asks while glancing between the girls. His eyes hardening— daring for his own daughter to say something. Of course he felt bad for his son, his pride and joy, but he also knew better. And Alicent was expected to as well. He could see how puffy her eyes had become and how red her cheeks were; he wasn’t a fool.

“I just had a bad feeling father. I know her. She wouldn’t leave right after Daemon—,”

Again, the princess was interrupted by the blasting of obnoxious horns. Rhaenyra swore by all the Old Gods of Valeria, if she were to hear another peep of a horn she’d banish them from her sight for the length of her reign.

“There has been a last minute addition to the joust! Princess Jaehaera, the new dragon of the land, wishes to compete!”

“Oh seven hells,” Viserys let go of Rhaenyra’s hand, rubbing a hand down his face while standing up. “Why do my children seek to put me in an early grave?”

Once he’s made it to the railing, the king watched as his daughter road her horse with a straight back, confident as a knight of old. He’d like to say that he’d be able to scold her at this moment, but he couldn’t. His heart betrayed him. Viserys was nothing but a ball of warm mush when it came to his daughter, sometimes to a fault.

There was a great uproar; a mix of excitement and discontent brewing among the audience. It was not proper for a lady to be involved with such matters, yet… who were they to dictate what is and isn’t proper?

“And who is it you wish to joust Princess?!” The bellman asked, bowing dramatically as he usually did. Jaehaera couldn’t help but admire his commitment.

Humming a tune unfamiliar to those around her, Jaehaera tilts her head at a symbol she wasn’t able to recognize. It was filled with many stars, quite precious in her mind. Many knights used their family crests, that of which were fierce. Yet this one, was decorated in stars. How curious.

Her horse trotted toward the knight dressed in the least expensive armor in the line, definitely of common birth. A new sparkle arose in Jaehaera’s eyes, mimicking that of his shield.

“What is your name Sir..?”

All those surrounding them gawked at the Princess’s choice. Out of all the prestigious knights— one of which being the Rogue Prince, whom she had been ignoring much to his dismay— she’s choose…

Removing his helmet, the knight revealed an abundance of rich dark locks, and eyes of bark brown— almost matching the dirt beneath them. Bowing his head in respect, he peered up at Jaehaera with such purity. It was a little off putting if she were to admit.

“Sir Criston your highness,” his answer multiplying the whispers around the pair. However, his gaze never shifted from the Princess before him. “I would be honored to be your opponent.”

Jaehaera’s brow drew up high at his response. She was sure most of the other knights would have tried to coax her with flattery. Maybe even try and persuade her to quit while she could. In that moment she knew she had chosen the right one.

“Well, Sir Criston, I was actually going to ask for a favor.” She threw a quick glance at her family, brushing over Rhaenyra, Viserys, Alicent, and finally Daemon. The princess gave the clad man a grin before gesturing her new acquaintance to come closer.

Jaehaera tilted her head to the side once Criston was within arms reach, gently pulling him by the tuft of his armor. Then she leaned to his ear and whispered something impossible for anyone else to hear. No matter how quiet the crowd got, none could decider a single word. But by the grin spreading across the knight’s face, it wasn’t hard to tell it pleased him. It almost matched the princess’s.

“It would be my honor.” Sir Criston said, watching intently as she drew back.

Letting a breathy laugh leave her lips, she nods. “I’m sure.”

Fastening her hair up, Jaehaera gave her steed a light smack on the side. This bringing her face to face with Daemon at last. “I was hoping you would humor me my Prince.”

Daemon shifted in his saddle as he watched her attentively. He knew she was up to something. Payback no doubt for hurting her friend, which he understood. Her loyal and protective nature was part of what he loved about her, but what he didn’t understand was… why was she bring Sir Criston into this?

He was a fine knight, that Daemon could not dispute, but he was nothing compared to the likes of him— let alone Jaehaera.

“I’m always at your disposal my princess, whatever you wish.”

“Make a wager with me then?” Her tone now giddy and light, causing her teeth to sink into her plush bottom lip.

Daemon’s own lips couldn’t help but quirk at the sight of her new demeanor. All he could do was nod, compliant as ever.

“You and Sir Criston will joust,” she started, a finger held high for all to see. “And whomever is the victor, will then be my opponent.”

The crowd grew hysterical upon the Princess’s words reaching their ears. Once low murmurs turned to an uproar. Some were absolutely exhilarated by the prospect, already placing their own wagers and bets. However, majority were tense and criticized the very notion.

These grievances traveled quickly about the rows, which meant it only took a few minutes for them to get to Viserys. Oh, and how the king didn’t like that.

“Silence!”

The arena went quiet in an instant.

Jaehaera’s doe eyes glanced along the audience surrounding her, a small, coy smile dancing along her mouth. Finally, when everything seemed fully calm and collected, she turned to her father in great gratitude. It seemed she wouldn’t need to stretch out her vocal cords today.

She took a dramatic bow atop her horse, hair falling forward like a swatting horse tail. “Thank you father.”

Scoffing under his breath, amused by his daughter’s dramatic performance, the king held his hand out— a gesture to tell her she could stop. If Jaehaera hadn’t gotten the impression from his expression.

“So what’ll it be Daemon?”

Both father and daughter, king and princess, brother and niece— both asked Daemon in a tone demanding. He knew, even if he had planned to refuse, he would not be able too. That’s when his eyes got wide, peering at Jaehaera with a raised brow.

The little dragon… was getting revenge.

His eyes flickered to the stand holding his brother, along with Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent, before returning to those blistering eyes of hot amber magma. And yet, Daemon’s smile got the widest it had all day.

“I could never refuse you, my princess.”

***

I think we all know the fate of Daemon and Sir Criston’s joust… and later brawl. We all know Dameon is a sore loser, so imagine his disappointment when loosing the chance to joust Jaehaera.

Oh, and it takes little time to figure out who won between the noble knight and the intuitive royal. While Sir Criston is a fine knight— he was not match for Jaehaera’s quit wit, nor her agility (where she dodged his attack falling to the side of her horse— held only by her feet— and launching herself back at him after his lance had passed her line of vision.)

And I know… from how Sir Criston (or little bitch, whichever you prefer), has been described in other parts of this series it may be a bit confusing right now. But like in the show, he was playing a hero until his cloak was removed and his true self was revealed. So just wait until “the incident”. Then you’ll see the shift in their relationship.

Thank you for being patient with me readers, hope you enjoyed.

#lgbt representation #daemon x oc #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x reader x daemon #targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x oc #daemon x reader #aemond targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #viserys targaryen #targaryen oc #house targaryen #sir criston cole #alicent x rhaenyra #hotd rhaenyra #hotd daemon #alicent x reader #aemond x reader x aegon #aemond x oc #aegon x reader #heleana targaryen #lucerys targaryen #baela and rhaena #feminist #hotd imagine

[vexation-816]

Two Sides Redesign

Name: Stein

Team: C

Info: The runt of the team. Despite being one of the shortest on the team he can really pack a punch on the battlefield. When the fight starts due to his speed he usually charges head on first taking on the first person he comes across. Plus with his cartoon logic it makes him hard to catch as well. He'll try to take a moment to help out his teammates when he can. He's on good terms with everyone on his team as well as a certain masked individual on the other team.

(Warning: Make sure to pat him down of any lighters, matches or anything used to make a fire.)

Plus I was just thinking of domination lines he would say against the other team since the AU gives TF2 vibes in general.

Dominating Gangle Lines - 'Who brings a hammer to a gun fight?' 'Sorry bout that pal.' 'Your THIS tall and you STILL can't catch tiny ol me?' 'Maybe if you actually had fingers this wouldn't have happened.' 'AW did someone's little mask break?' 'Without that mask your just a wholesome mopey marshmallow.'

Dominating Jax Lines - 'Silly Rabbit! Victory belongs to me! 'Yknow maybe brush your teeth every once in a while!' 'DOMINATED ya bomb weilding JERK!' 'Maybe I'll get a Rabbits Foot while I'm at it.' 'How does it feel to have your ego crushed for once?'

Dominating Zooble Lines - 'Are your critters ALWAYS this weak?' Ya just got scrambled more than a bunch of Legos.' 'Try not to always rely on yourself for once.' 'Did you bring a lunchbox or a box of sentient limbs to the battlefield?' 'Who brought a toy maker to the battlefield?' 'DOMINATED ya wind-up mix and match Lego piece!' 'Your head will make a perfect baseball holder.' 'Your critters may be cute but they were getting in my way.'

Queenie Domination Lines- 'You and Kinger look perfect for eachother!' 'Not so useful when you get up close and personal eh?' 'Try sniping that ya frickin coward!' 'You waited out the whole game for THIS?' 'Ey look it was a mercy kill, ya literally hide in your base the whole game!' 'You sure those eyes are real? Cuz it looks like you didn't see me coming!' 'How bout' I take that crown off your hands? Give it to someone who actually deserves it.' 'DOMINATED ya arrow shooting game piece!'

But seriously I had fun going back to redesign this chaotic goober

The creator of this badass au is made by @iguessimfished

#tadc two sides au #the amazing digital circus #Tadc

[aikoiya]

 What if it was the 6 Human Souls that are somehow controlling Frisk to destroy Asgore’s Kingdom in REVENGE for their deaths as well as prevent the war/genocide against Humanity?… That would be an interesting tragic story, and it would be KARMA at it’s finest! 💖 

(I used the brown heart for patience, cause I couldn’t find the light blue heart…)

~~~

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Why, Toriel? Why didn’t you go with us? Why didn’t you protect us?

Toriel: Wha-What?

💚 Frisk (Kindness): You knew that the King, YOUR HUSBAND, wanted to do with us. You knew he wanted to use us to hurt our own people. To start a war that would wipe out everyone, including innocent families. You knew that after one final soul, he could actually commit genocide… And yet you did nothing.

Toriel: I…

💚 Frisk (Kindness): You did nothing to stop Asgore or your Kingdom from destroying our bodies and ruining our souls.

Toriel: There wasn’t anything I could do to stop-

💚 Frisk (Kindness): YOU WERE THE QUEEN OF THE KINGDOM! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE BRAINS! YOU DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO COME UP WITH A BETTER SOLUTION!… But if you had to abandon your Kingdom and betray your people, at least have the guts to do it right… But you didn’t have the guts, did you Queenie?

Toriel: …

💚 Frisk (Kindness): You left us alone, in the cold…You left us to rot… You left us to die…… At our most vulnerable moments… Y… you… really hatedus that much for wanting to leave?

Toriel (tearful): I’m so sorry, my child…

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Now I see who you were truly protecting by staying here, in the Ruins. Not us…But yourself!… To think I once saw you as better then my original mother… Eheheheh!!! But you really are no different than her!

Toriel (crying and sobbing): I’m so very sorry, my little ones!

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Every monster inside this mountain had celebrated the deaths of children… Yet they say that they’re the compassionate and merciful ones, while humans are the true evil demons… Well, if they want us to be the demons, we’re gonna grant their wish!

Toriel: No! Wait my children, you don’t have to do this! We can still make things right, I-

(Frisk strikes down Toriel with one strike.)

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Too little, too late.

~~~

Papyrus: I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): …Are you serious?

Papyrus: WELL, YES I-

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): You seriously want to hug someone that you know has killed everyone in their path, instead of running away to safety? I know that you’re naive and childish, but this is just straight up stupid!

Papyrus: B-BUT EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY!

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): That’s the thing though, WE ALL TRIED! The problem is none of you cared! You monsters still hurt us!

(Frisk then strikes down Papyrus.)

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): So, why keep trying to please you?

~~~

Undyne: This isn’t just about monsters anymore, is it?

💙 Frisk (Integrity): What?

If you get past me, you’ll…You’ll destroy them all, won’t you? Monsters… Humans… Everyone…

💙 Frisk (Integrity): You’ve gotta be kidding me!

Everyone’s hopes. Everyone’s dreams. Vanquished in an instant.

💙 Frisk (Integrity): Oh, NOW you care about a human’s hopes and dreams!

Undyne: But I WON’T let you do that. Right now, everyone in the world… I can feel their hearts beating as one.

💙 Frisk (Integrity): It’s almost hilarious how arrogant and delusional you are. You make Papyrus look humble!

Undyne: And we all have ONE goal. To defeat YOU.

💙 Frisk (Integrity): I’m not even gonna dignify you with a speech about how much you suck, because your whole ‘heroic’ speech already reeks of hypocrisy!

Undyne: Human. No, WHATEVER you are. For the sake of the whole world… I, UNDYNE, will strike you do-

(Frisk strikes down Undyne, before she could reform herself.)

💙 Frisk (Integrity): You were saying, UndyingUndyne?

~~~

Mettaton: COME ANY CLOSER, AND I’LL BE FORCED TO SHOW YOU… MY TRUE FORM!

💜 Frisk (Perseverance): …Okay.

Mettaton: FINE THEN!… RRRRREADY? IIIIIIIT’S SHOW-

(Frisk strikes down Mettaton, before he could finish transforming.)

💜 Frisk (Perseverance): Show’s over.

(Frisk then turns his head to the wall and finds a camera.)

💜 Frisk (Perseverance): …How disappointing Alphys, you didn’t even try to protect your friend.

~~~

Sans: so, i’ve got a question for ya. do you think even the worst person can change…? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?

💛Frisk (Justice): You never tried to be a good person, Sans. So you have no right to judge us or humanity, or anyone for that matter. You are nothing, but a selfish coward.

Sans: heh heh heh heh… all right. well, here’s a better question. do you wanna have a bad time? cause if you take another step forward… you are REALLY not going to like what happens next.

💛Frisk (Justice): Neither are you.

Sans: welp. sorry, old lady. this is why i never make pro-

(Frisk then strikes down Sans.)

💛Frisk (Justice): That was more pathetic then I expected.

~~~

Asgore: Now, now. There’s no need to fight. Why not settle this… Over a nice cup of tea?

🤎Frisk (Patience): …’There’s no need to fight’… Isn’t that interesting?… I remember those being my last words to you, before you ended my life…

Asgore: What?

🤎Frisk (Patience): Do you know who I am?

Asgore: No… I’m not sure.

🤎Frisk (Patience): Oh, you better remember me like your life depends on it! Why don’t you take a closer look? 

Asgore: Why… You…  Yes, yes, I remember you now… You’re one of the fallen human children… The patient soul…

🤎Frisk (Patience): You’re wrong, Asgore. I’m not the one with the patient soul…

Asgore: What? Then who are you?

💖 Frisk (ALL): WE ARE ALL THE INNOCENTS YOU DESTROYED!

💖 Frisk (ALL): WE ARE ALL THE CHILDREN YOU MURDERED!

💖 Frisk (ALL): WE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE YOU HARVESTED FOR POWER!

(Asgore could only silently look at them with horror, terror and guilt.)

🤎Frisk (Patience): You convinced everyone that we’re the villains… You want us to be the bad guys?… Fine.

(Frisk strikes down Asgore with one strike.)

💖 Frisk (ALL): Now, we’re the bad guys! 

---

Aikoiya: Okay, this is freaking brilliant. *claps* Bravo.

I can’t help but wonder how Chara & Asriel would react though. I can’t help but feel like they’d in some way also blame them. Because if nothing else, none of this would’ve ever happened if they hadn’t done what they did.

Though, I can’t help but feel like Frisk is being sidelined here. Maybe have Frisk in control, but have them/her (I’ve always hc’d Frisk as she) be guided by the souls instead of flavor-text Chara. Mainly a corrupted Justice, because the corrupted version of Justice is Wrath or Vengence.

Just an idea.

#submission #ut #undertale #salt #salt fic #very cool #very cathartic

[minicomics]

One side is pure chaos while the other side is hope

This is a combination of Cross Pomni and an Emulator as its story is quite a twist. Lore: Emma is a trainer and fighter of the Royal Kinger and Queenie, as she would be protecting them from dangers. But that was only her coding that said it, as in reality she and the others are being used as testing experiments and just be "played around" the ones that are Programming the testing is the big trio, which are Seth, Able and Caine. Though Caine would disagree with Seth planning as he thinks that it is wrong for loses the loves ones over and over again. So, he tries to defeat Seth but would only leading him become part of the wacky watch, however Seth didn't know that Caine was still living and be manipulating Able as his sanity has broken and would make Able to fight the performers, till they made it to Pomni as she would give it her all to strike at her foes, showing them no mercy. As she has won but would make sure that they don't come back. As before she was seen with visions of Caine and able tormenting her friends and trapping them in this hell hole. So, she decided to take actions in her own hands and destroy Able watch, but doing this would cause the world to glitch and crash as now, Pomni was alone in the white void with her Ai Caine to be as one as their file is split in half, one with pure regret and wishing to redeem themselves while the other would strike at those who would treat her wrong. They both have tough times but try to corporate when planning or such.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus au #gooseworx #digital circus au #tadc fanart #artists on tumblr #tadc pomni #sketch art #tadc cross circus #cross circus #emulator #emulator pomni #au #pomniverse #underverse

[bunny-j3st3r]

Because @sm-baby is a bad influence and made me pick up my priest tadc au again

It's based on those early 90s weird christian games

It's all within a church and any area surrounding it

Pomni is not a real angel, she is a tree decoration angel so she looks kinda tacky, the halo around her head is tied with wire which became crooked as she fell into the church, she tends to put it back straight but it will always go crooked again seconds later.

Caine is obssessed with her to an unhealthy degree (she's kinda into it tbh) he just constantly wants her around and to be able to touch 'his angel'

He was at one point sane and a normal priest but after a spefic incedent he started losing it.

Able is Caine's brother who 'died' he did not really die, he has an apple for a head and caine has teeth, you can do the math here.

Able was a sheperd that was favoured by the other NPCS (Jax espically) Caine grew jealous of this and removed him.

Able isn't dead and just kinda stays out of the way now, the others and Caine thinks he is dead so Caine's sanity started to slip when he would 'see' Able.

Jax is a sheep/lamb and was close to Able, were they lovers? besties? idk but I thought about them to hard once so u can make the connection.

Ragatha is the new shepherd, having entered just a little after Able's 'death'

Jax does not get on with her and in fact does a lot to put himself into danger (thus a sacrfical lamb) just because he finds it funny how much she panics.

Zooble is basically a demon to Caine, the idea was based on one claymation I watched a longggg time ago of something where the satan character kept changing shapes and such.

Caine prolly takes a lot out on Zooble so they tend to just keep to themselves in there room.

Bubble is to be a snake that is often around Caine's neck, I think there colourings would shimmer and change like water in oil (or like a bubble)

Kinger and Queenie are adam and eve. Queenie abstracted shortly after some kind of event that got the both of them in trouble, Caine calls the abstraction her punishment.

Kinger used to be of sane mind and would prolly cause some mischief with queenie, often breaking the games 'rules' I think in the real world the two them were prolly similar to activists for w/e orgnization, rule breakers, this line of work somehow got them in the game.

After Queenie abstracted tho kinger's mind snapped, he often forgets days, months or even where he is. He keeps a notebook on hand with Queenie's notes but if you asked him who wrote them he couldn't give you an answer.

Gangle was orignally going to be the satan type character but I think I'd like to do something with her that gives her more of a prophet type status. She's overly cautious and is quick to point out dangers of shit happening and caine like "nah it's fine" and then shit happens so Caine now straight up just thinks the word of God is being spoken to her.

I think she'd be hyper aware of when someone is about to abstract, she can tell the changes and Caine is seeking her advice to know often, she's scared of what he'll do if she dosn't tell him.

Abstractions are demons basically, when Caine is informed that someone is going to abstract he acutally then proceeds to pin them to a cross. He does this because he truly believes doing so will help them, he thinks the lord will have mercy on them as they did Jesus and will return them to there prior state, this has yet to work and in fact seems to make the abstraction happen faster.

Once abstracted Caine just claims they didn't repent enough and were made into a demon.

Pov ur Pomni falling into the church for the first time

#tadc au #the amazing digital circus au

[silvertonedwords]

Together, Chapter 3

Together Chapter 3 is here

If you want me to post this here, let me know and I will, but it is 9,000+ words, and that honestly just gets really unwieldy, so, below is a preview.

Dear Newt,

I was glad to read an update on the diricawls. I hope they do well this week. 

We’re wrapping up that smuggling case I’ve been telling you about. Work is still busy. I prefer it that way, although I wish I’d been able to write you yesterday. A new informant came in unexpectedly, and I was at the office until just after one. 

You asked how I am. The truth is: I don’t know. I look for the shoes she left in the middle of the floor—I used to nag her about that endlessly—and for her sewing projects on the side table. I expect replies to my thoughts.

I’m angry at how I left things. But I also don’t know how not to be angry at her for what she’s done. I haven’t always agreed with her choices, but I used to think I could understand them. 

What in Merlin’s name was she thinking in Paris? How could she be so taken in by that man and his bigotry? Especially given how our poppa’s family was treated in Europe. I can’t understand it.

I know that you do not have answers to these questions any more than I do. 

I found a page of notes I’d made when I first read your book—questions and things. I never got the chance to ask them in London or Paris. Would you answer them now, in your letters? I have enclosed the page with this letter.

The drawing that you enclosed of Queenie and Jacob on the evening we all met was wonderful. You’ve captured their expressions perfectly. I suppose I knew that you’d done your own illustrations, but I didn’t realize that you liked drawing people, too. They’re beautiful. Do you often sketch things like this from memory? You mentioned that it feels as though that dinner was ages ago, although it was only the year before last. I agree. Sometimes I think Queenie and I must’ve known you and Jacob forever. 

Did the Zouwu get off alright? Your friend was supposed to get her settled in on the 18th, wasn’t he?

Oh, and I meant to tell you, I put in a request on Monday to exchange more information on Grindelwald’s movements with the Ministry Auror’s Office. The bureaucracy is always a challenge, but at least I know that Theseus and his team understand what’s at stake.

I can see how you’ve described him. He can be quite fixed in the way he sees things. He has good instincts, though, and at times is very perceptive. I’m glad you’ve been looking after him when he needs it. Please look after yourself, too.

I wish I could draw as you do, because I’d send you a sketch of how the city looks this evening. The sun has just begun to set, and it is beautiful.

Tell Pick and the nifflers hello from me. I hope everyone in the case and menagerie is well. 

Yours,

Tina

 The sound of steps in the next room to pulls Tina from sleep. She grabs for her wand and points it at the open doorway. Only as her eyes begin to adjust to the darkness does she recall that the sound might be a house guest rather than an intruder. Mercy Lewis, she thinks, please let it be a nice, mellow creature, and not an erumpent in heat or a bunch of baby nifflers come to find Momma’s shabbat candlesticks.

But as the figure in the doorway reaches a strip of moonlight, she sees that it is not a magical beast at all, but a wizard. Her stomach jolts pleasantly at the recollection of everything that happened tonight. “Newt.”

“Merlin’s beard, I didn’t mean to—“

She follows his gaze to her wand arm, and lowers it, laughing ruefully. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Yes.” His posture relaxes a little. “Of course.”

“Nobody’s gotten out, have they? It’s cold tonight, and—“

“No, no. Not that I know of anyway.” He winces—partly a smile—at his answer, and she laughs softly.

She spends a moment taking in his appearance after a few hours apart. His hair looks darker in moonlight, almost brown, except for the strands that shine copper where the light hits directly. He must sleep in these clothes, for he has changed since she last saw him, into a well-worm pair of trousers and a shirt with a deep open collar. His eyes are tired, but warm. The vulnerability and trust, so clear in his gaze, makes her ache to be closer. 

“I—“ He glances down, as though gathering his words. “I woke and I felt—alone? And I wanted…” She throws her covers off and makes her way to him. He trails off when her hand covers his, and his gaze flies to hers. 

She feels him search her face and hopes he’ll see the vulnerability and trust and warmth she felt, given to him in turn.

He slides his fingers between hers. 

And a breath later, he is in her arms, wrapping his tightly around her and pressing his face into her neck. His hold is fierce. 

“Oh,” she breathes, settling her arms around him. 

He drops a featherlight kiss on her neck. His hands are warm where they rest against her. “Okay?”

She nods into his neck and shoulder. “Of course.” She is grateful for his care in asking, but it is difficult to imagine a world in which this touch could be unwelcome. 

Continue on Archive of Your Own

#together #updated! #my writing #newtina #newtina fanfiction #post sod #it's finally here! #thanks for your patience #not that you had a choice

[custardcove]

“Another scone, Miss Webbe?”

“One is plenty, thank you.”

There’s a stiff silence as the human brings the teacup to her lips. Queenie seems to take this quiet as a mercy, gently rolling the pram beside her back and forth.

Alice’s eyes flicker over to each of the tearoom’s doors. “Where’s Alarune?”

“You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?” Queenie titters. She doesn’t answer the question. “Still, I appreciate you coming to visit now that our baby has arrived.”

The teacup is returned to its saucer. “Sorry, but what was it you named her? I missed that.”

“We had to think on it for a while. I had so many suggestions ready—Beryl, Alexandria, Goldie—but when I saw her, I knew those wouldn’t do.”

Exhaling deeply, Alice tried to subdue her impatience. “What did you decide on, then?”

“Mandragora. An apt name, wouldn’t you say?” Stilling her hands, she smiled down at the pram—more so at the baby within. “Mandy for short.”

“Like—the plant?” Alice sat up straighter. “That’s quite clever, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Queenie beamed with pride. “It was Alarune’s suggestion, of course.”

An unwelcome guest drifts in through the left wall, who stops to hover over the table and lounge in the air. “It’s because she cries all the time, like the mandrakes of legend. The rare occasions she’s behaving, though, she’s a sweet little thing.”

Alice nods to acknowledge Julia’s presence, which offers more grace than Queenie’s glowering.

“Anyway—I expect you didn’t just come to talk about my baby. I know you, Webbe. You’re not the cooing, doting type. What’s going on in town?”

Julia leans forward. “Oh yes, tell us. We do like a bit of gossip,” she insists.

“Well, er…” Alice tenses up again. She had hoped to hear Queenie’s insight, despite her advice often being blunt, twisted and best ignored. It offered alternative avenues that she’d never think of herself, and gave the human a clearer picture of what not to do. But now she had a larger audience. “Taylor’s leaving in January. And I’ve been having bad dreams.”

Queenie rolls her eyes, picking up her own cup—which was, of course, full of water. “Oh, now you’re having dreams, but not when I asked…”

“I don’t dream on command, you know! It just happens.”

“What’s the issue, then? I thought you’d already been having nightmares. Harte said so.”

“These are different. I—well, I don’t know how to describe it…”

“You can’t just leave us in suspense!” Julia interjects. “At least make an attempt. What was that first part, anyway? Dreams about your man leaving you?”

“He’s not my—well, the dream is unrelated, it was sort of … do you know Mr Welwick?”

“Human, groundskeeper of the park up the north path,” Queenie confirms. “What about him?”

“Bit old for you, isn’t he?” Julia teases. “Or do you like that~?”

“Um,” Alice chooses to ignore the ghost’s absurd remark. “He was in the dream. And he melted. Like a candle. That is—he melted when I asked him a question.”

“I see.” Queenie bridges her fingers, resting on the table. “And this question was?”

“Well, I’m—I’m scared to repeat it, but… I asked him the name of our world, because I didn’t know the answer.”

“Yes, I see…” Queenie nods seriously. “I see that you’ve completely lost your mind. Have you considered taking a vacation, Webbe?”

That was even blunter than she’d been expecting. Alice purses her lips. She should’ve known Queenie wouldn’t take her seriously, she never did.

Julia, however, offered some uncomfortable pity. “She’s all out of sorts because her boyfriend is leaving, and all her other options are damp squibs.” As impossible as it was for the table to support her form, she leant on it, resting her head on one hand. “You need a little confidence, dear, and you could have them all. If I could possess you for—”

“While I would not recommend living by my grandmother’s example, it might be true that your love life is causing you grief.”

“He’s not my boyfr—”

“Yes, I know. But your situation is a bit more complex than that, isn’t it? Me, Runey, Lucian, goodness—perhaps even Marianne, and who knows who else… and now Taylor, not taken, but leaving.”

“I don’t—”

“Nothing a threesome can’t solve,” Julia adds flippantly.

“I don’t need to be—this isn’t about my love life,” Alice finally gets out. “Or, well—I certainly don’t know how to feel about Taylor leaving, I’ll say that much!”

The two dragons wear a matching self-satisfied smirk.

Alice sighs heavily, understanding that was her cue to continue. “He’s going to follow his dreams, so I don’t want to stop him. I’m going to let him go. I mean, he said he’d stay in touch, and I’ve got Ivan if I ever want to visit, but…” She shakes her head. “I don’t want him to go, and I don’t want to force him to stay.”

“He’ll come back. With experience, too. You’re young yet.” Julia glides over to pat her on the back. It’s a cold and unpleasant feeling.

“Fickleness is one of your fatal flaws, isn’t it, Alice?” Queenie sips water from her teacup, sizing her up over the rim. “That and your crippling self-doubt. Have you actually talked to Mr Shirasaki about these feelings?”

“Sort of? I don’t want to kill his enthusiasm, and I don’t want him to think I’m asking him out—I don’t know if I feel that way! Choosing him almost like leftovers, that … it leaves a bad taste in my soul.”

“Quite the predicament. … Which is why you’re slowly going insane, hm?” There’d be no sympathy from Queenie. “Besides. You don’t have to ask him out to tell him he’ll be missed.”

Julia has her own advice to give. “Or you could ask him out. It’s not a forever-thing, you know, especially if he’s skipping town. I say you can change your mind as much as you like, Alice~”

The human makes a frustrated, grumbling sound. She’d wanted to talk about this, yes, but it wasn’t the only point of focus, especially after they’d glossed over her dream as the mad ramblings of a lovesick loser. She was going to have to get advice about that elsewhere.

A noise comes from inside the pram as Mandy stirs. Queenie’s attention switch is immediate, abandoning her cup. “Shh, did we wake you up?” She coos and fawns over her, distracting the baby with a corduroy cat doll nestled in the blankets.

Julia takes this opportunity to press an icy finger against the nape of Alice’s neck. “If you ever change your mind about being borrowed, I could really help you out. Just for a day or so...”

“N-no thanks. I’m good.” She wouldn’t trust anyone with an offer like that, least of all Julia.

“Oh well, your funeral~” Julia slips under the table, appearing at the other end to help with her great-granddaughter. With Mandy occupied, Queenie returns to her conversation with Alice.

“Are you sure you don’t want this scone? You look like you need it.”

#Drabble #Mandy #Queenie #Custard #Julia #how do i warn about julia existing.

[dazzlingkm]

Double Trouble🌀🌀

So after Paeng there could possibly be the name of typhoon Queenie. It's just a tropical depression right now tho so I'm praying that this won't be a typhoon at all. Paeng you have done pretty quiet enough damage! PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON US!😭🙏

#typhoon paeng #philippines #luzon #visayas #mindanao

[ccnextgen]

I haven't drawn anything for them in so long... waaaa

#my phone's wifi hotspot is SLOW rn so i only use my laptop for the sims rn lmao #lord have mercy #queenie talks

[knightsimp]

Recovery (2/2)

Pairing: Percival Graves x Reader

Summery: You were right; that was not Percival Graves. So, what are you going to do about it?

Genre: Angst + fluff (I think it’s a sweet ending :D)

Word Count: 2600+

Date Posted: February 14, 2021 (Happy Valentine’s Day!)

Note: None

Part One: Link

“How do you think she is doing, Teenie?” Queenie found herself asking as she and Tina made their way to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

“I’m not sure, but I regret not staying with her for a couple of days.” The girls had no idea what (Y/N) was up to; she had not turned up for work, understandably, for the last five days. Now that it was Friday, they were able to check up on her. 

The sisters looked at each other before Tina knocked on (Y/N)’s door. They chose not to apparate to avoid scaring her. 

“It’s open!” (Y/N)’s muffled voice came through the door. When they entered the apartment, they did not expect such a mess.

The kitchen was a mess, first of all. Pots and pans everywhere, and unwashed dishes piled the sink. 

“In here!” (Y/N) called from the room at the end of the corridor: the bedroom. The bedroom was not any better than the kitchen. From what can be seen by just looking through the bedroom door, (Y/N)’s bed was not made and a couple garments were dumped onto it. Miscellaneous things, such as her hairbrush and a few pieces of clothing, were piling onto her bedside table.

Tina and Queenie were not prepared to see a spew of papers near the wall which was facing the bed. Tina had not known about (Y/N)’s investigation at all, but Queenie knew and did not realize it would get this far and this bad. The small patch of papers that were pinned on the wall, which had been connected together with red string, had taken over the square-ish area and had started to crawl onto the ceiling. 

“Oh my god.” Tina mumbled, looking up at one of the moving snippets from The Daily Prophet. 

“Tina! Queenie!” (Y/N) was at the wall where this collection started. “How are you?” It looked as if (Y/N) just rolled out of bed and got to work. And that was exactly what has been happening the last several days.

“We’re doing alright, (Y/N).” Queenie hesitated for a moment. “How are you?” (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

“Tired mostly. I haven’t slept in a couple days, but look! I have made so much progress!” Queenie looked around and found two empty mugs which were, no doubt, once filled with coffee. Tina snapped out of her memorization of the ceiling. 

“Progress?” Tina asked, raising an eyebrow. She slowly put the pieces together. “(Y/N),” pause, “are you trying to figure out where Mr. Graves is?” (Y/N) smile dropped for a moment while she averted her gaze downward. Her enthusiastic smile became a sad one as she fiddled with the delicate gold charm that Percival had gifted to her for a birthday. 

“Well, of course.” (Y/N) looked back at them, speaking softly. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“First, you need to go take a shower.” Tina went behind (Y/N) and pushed her shoulders out of the bedroom to the nearby bathroom. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but you really do stink. We can smell you from across the room and it is a long room.” 

“Tina’s right!” Queenie agreed, looking at them. “You need to take care of yourself, (Y/N). You are not going to make much progress when you are unconscious from a lack of sleep and proper food.” Before (Y/N) could say anything, Queenie added, “And yes, regardless of what you think, you do need a little freshening up.” With a little more arguing, (Y/N) agreed to at least take a shower. Queenie handed (Y/N) some clothes to change into before she entered her bathroom.

Tina continued to awe at (Y/N)’s investigating. She knew (Y/N) was a brilliant detective, but this was beyond what she thought. She followed it down from the ceiling to the original wall. In the middle of the wall was where everything was connecting to; a photo of (Y/N) and Percival at the Blind Pig. After being constantly reprimanded by Percival, who was really Grindelwald, when he was around, it surprised her that she did not notice the differences between him and the real Percival sooner. Percival was very intimidating and dominating, yes, but he still cared about his subordinates. Grindelwald could not care less unless it was meddling his involvement in MACUSA.

As Tina looked closer into the snippets of newspaper, she noticed how (Y/N) had been investigating all over the city. No doubt she was going to all of these locations. Once a location was visited, it seemed like (Y/N) would pin or make notes on the snippet. 

“No way.”

“Possible, but not probable”

These were only the very general notes being made. It looked like (Y/N) was also communicating with Theseus Scamander in London to make some inquiries in Europe, but nothing came of that.

Tina did not realize how long she was gawking at (Y/N)’s work until she heard the shower stop.

(Y/N) looked as if she was in deep thought when she exited the bathroom. She definitely looked, and smelled, fresher than before.

“(Y/N)?” Tina tried to call out to her. “Are you okay?”

“(Y/N), are you sure?” Queenie came around the corner, overhearing (Y/N) thoughts. “Is that a likely place?”

“What is a likely place?” (Y/N) looked up at Tina. 

“You know how while you take shower or a bath, it is easy to let your mind wander?” Tina nodded. “I think...” She trailed off, again seemingly trying to make sense of her thoughts.

“You think Mr. Graves is at MACUSA!” Queenie gasped. 

“What?” Tina exclaimed. “Explain!”

“There is nowhere else he can be, Tina!” (Y/N) was right, but also sounded like she was grasping at straws. “I have scavenged the city for signs. I even had someone in London make secret inquiries for me. And it is absolutely something Grindelwald would do. If anyone was going to look for the real Percival, they were not going to search MACUSA, a place swarming with talented aurors. And it makes it easier to get ingredients for the Polyjuice potion. No one is going to question Percival Graves if they spot him walking through the building.”

“That is actually genius.” Tina mumbled before clearing her throat. “But where would he be? Like you said, MACUSA always has aurors in the building.”

“MACUSA is big and has been running for decades! There has to be some abandoned areas that are no longer required for work.”

“We can always check.” Queenie suggested. “All three of us work in that building.”

“Though, depending on how large the search area is, we may need help from Picquery.” (Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek. Might as well.

The sun was starting to set when the three women arrived at MACUSA.

“You two stay out here.” (Y/N) told the sisters. “I can’t have you two getting in trouble, especially you, Tina; you just got your job back as an auror.”

(Y/N) stormed into President Picquery’s office. She did not mean to, but her adrenaline took over. The President was clearly in the middle of some sort of meeting. She looked peeved, to say the least.

“Miss (L/N),” she started sternly. “I am glad to see you are feeling better, that being said-”

“Madame President-”

“-I am in the middle of something-”

“I may have figured out where Percival Graves is, ma’am.” The room went silent. “The real Percival Graves.” Picquery’s expression turned from annoyed to serious. 

“Gentlemen, we can reschedule, but I must talk with Miss (L/N) this instant.” The two men in suits left and closed the door behind them, leaving (Y/N) to Seraphina’s mercy. “Miss (L/N).” She let a bit of silence go by. “I’m listening.”

“I believe Percival may be in this building.” Seraphina leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“And what is your proof?”

“The lack of any. Madame President, when I tell you that I have scoured the whole city looking for him, I mean it; that is not an exaggeration. I have been making inquiries in Europe and no one has found anything.” Seraphina continued to stare at her. “Please, at least humor me.”

“And where would he be, (Y/N), if he is in fact here?”

“That is the big question, ma’am; that is why I am here in your office.” She purposefully kept Tina and Queenie out of it to avoid any repercussions they may face if she is wrong. “In my investigation into this theory, I wondered if there are any abandoned areas here in MACUSA. A building and organization this old cannot still be using all of it’s floors.” Then, the realization seemed to hit Seraphina.  

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but you may be onto something, (L/N).” She stood up from her chair and went to the front of her desk, leaning against it. “Some of the lowest floors have not been used in a long time. At least five or six floors. No one goes down there anymore; there is no need.” She led (Y/N) to the door. “I am sending five people to each floor immediately. You and the Goldstein's gather two more aurors and start the search.” (Y/N) wanted to ask how she knew the Goldstein sisters were involved, but quickly shut her mouth. “If you’re wrong, this is a waste of a lot of manpower. People are finishing up their shifts and will be very upset to be searching a good portion of our building when they could be going home.”

“Then, let's hope that I’m not wrong.” Seraphina nodded before heading off to the main floor. Tina and Queenie came closer, seeing as the coast was clear. 

“Miss Goldstein-”

“Find two other aurors and we’ll meet you at the elevator.” Queenie glanced at both the president and (Y/N) before leaving Tina with (Y/N). 

“(Y/N)?” Tina put a hand on her shoulder to stop her for a moment. (Y/N) explained the plan as they made their way to the elevator. 

“We don’t know what or who is down here.” Tina warned, talking to everyone, but keeping her eyes on (Y/N). “Stay alert.” The five of them split up, wands in hand, but stayed close enough to see each other in case of an ambush.

The bottom floor of the building, way under sea level, had definitely been abandoned. The remaining desks down there were dusty and untouched. Whatever else they had down there was the same.

After about half-an-hour, (Y/N) was losing hope; she was hanging on to the thought of finding Percival and it was the only thing keeping her going, but her grip was slipping.

In the relatively silent bottom floor of MACUSA, they could hear the echoing of someone yelling. They can barely make it out, but the words which were projected were very clear: “we found him!”

(Y/N) heart dropped to her stomach. She almost did not believe what she heard. Tina and Queenie caught up to (Y/N) as she ran to the cage elevator, though the elevator was way above where she was, giving her ample space to look up.

“Give me a floor!” (Y/N)’s voice cracked as she yelled up the shaft, trying to get through all of the noise. She got responses for many of the aurors, but she got a general answer: three from the bottom. Percival was supposedly only two floors above where she was. Her breathing was getting a little heavy. 

She looked at the floor before apparating to it. Her team followed. 

“(L/N)!” One of the aurors on the floor called her over. “He’s over here!” (Y/N) almost tripped with how quickly she ran, following the auror. The heels of her shoes made a loud clack every time her feet pummeled onto the floor. 

Her heart was pounding, but it really started hitting hard against her ribs when she saw her first glimpses of him. Her running had come to a halt and she slid on her knees in front of him.

The poor man had been through so much. Whatever skin was showing outside of his torn dress pants and ruffled dress shirt was bruised and his face was home to a black eye. His hair and facial hair had grown way past what he would have tolerated if he was in control of it. He stank of blood, sweat, and dirt.

He was not in a cage or cell; he was, instead, shackled to a support beam by his wrists.

“Percy!” (Y/N) gasped out, holding his almost unconscious face in her shaking hands. It looked like he may have been sleeping to pass the time. “Get medical down here!” A couple of aurors nodded and left to get personal from the medical wing. “Percival, please open your eyes.” 

Slowly, with whatever energy he had, he opened his eyes. He could believe (Y/N) was sitting in front of him, holding his face so gently. The light coming in from behind her made her look oh-so angelic. 

“(Y/N)?” Her name barely passed his lips. 

“Percy! Yes, yes! It’s me!” She could not care less that she was crying; hearing his voice again, the real him, brought her to tears. She let a sob escape. “Oh Merlin, I found you! I finally found you!” In her happiness, she planted tender kisses all over his face. She did not notice when Percival mumbled something to her. 

“Make way!” The healers had arrived with a gurney, ready to take Percival up to the medical wing. (Y/N) was reluctant to let go of him, but did so. She watched as he was taken away from her. 

Queenie, from (Y/N)’s side, gave her a reassuring hug, which the crying auror returned and finally let out her whimpers. 

He was found.

This was the real Percival.

He was alive.

And he was going to be okay.

It took about a full day for Percival to become coherent. He was so void of nutrients and fluids; the man was on the brink of dying. 

What had happened was clear: once Grindelwald was found out, Percival was no longer needed and he was left down there to die. It was horrifying to think what would have happened if (Y/N) had not had that miscellaneous thought in the shower.

When he awoke, (Y/N) was right there, gently holding onto his bruised hand so as to not hurt him further.

“You’re safe now, Percival,” was the first thing she said to him. “Everything will be alright.” Once again, the light coming from behind her made her look ethereal, as if she was an angel. 

His angel.

“I said, I love you.” Percival got out. (Y/N) blinked, thinking she misheard him.

“Percy?”

“I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I’m not going to let another day pass where I regret telling you that.” (Y/N) looked away, bashful. 

“You need to rest.”

“I mean it-”

She pressed a sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, ignoring the irritation from his beard, before sitting back in her seat. “I know you do. You are not a very flowery man.” He looked at her, a little confused. She gave him a soft chuckle, knowing what he was thinking. “I’m not going anywhere, Percival. I made that mistake once, and look at what happened. I am staying right here.”

#percival graves x reader #percival graves #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #x reader #percival graves/you #percival graves/reader #Percival graves x you #knightsimp writes #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts x reader

[zodiyack]

Hope

Requested by @writerdream22​: Could I request an Ivar The Boneless drabble (or gif imagine, whichever you find the most comfortable writing) with the prompt #08“People can do worse things than kill you.”? In the scenario, the reader ( a shieldmaden/ healer) is betrothed to Ivar but her choice isn't seen as the right one by the people in Kattegat, and they make it clear for her to know. One day, the reader is clearly not feeling ok so Ivar asks her what's wrong, and she lets all her feelings out.

Pairing: Ivar ‘The Boneless’ Ragnarsson x Female!Shieldmaiden!Reader

Prompt(s): [8] “People can do worse things than kill you”

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing?

Words: 1,241

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I think it’s established that I’m cringe at writing threats n stuff

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @youbloodymadgenius​, @thewarriorprincessxo​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​

Masterlist | Vikings Masterlist

Previously a shieldmaiden, Y/n knew the feeling of war, of loss, of hurt, but the feeling of safety was the one she knew how to decipher strongly. Constantly being aware of her surroundings was her life until now. She felt ready to die until now.

Betrothed to the love of their life, one could feel invincible. That’s how Y/n felt now. The battles faded from her dreams and the shield had been put on the wall to rest. Feeling highly aware of her company no longer, she felt safe. She felt she’d found a home for the first time in years. Kattegat was the town, Ivar was her home.

As a youngling, she’d pictured a happy family with a strong and loving man. Then, when she was introduced to shieldmaidens as a teen, her dreams changed. But as an adult who’d followed through with their dream, she was reminded of the one she’d tossed aside. And like that, she had two dreams.

Ivar was a hard person to miss, and his face was hard to forget. Not just for his disability, nor the words spoken of him, but for Y/n’s attraction to him. While others saw a cripple, she saw Ivar. While others saw a monster, she saw a king.

Soon, she confessed her attraction. “I’m interested in you...Ivar.”

“Why?”

She almost cackled at his innocent response. He’d probably asked that of her because of the townsfolk, yet she didn’t believe a single word they spoke. “I just am. I was taken away by your beauty and luckily my heart agreed with me.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” They shared a small chuckle and a gaze that wouldn’t be their last. Since then, secret glances and smirks were passed between the two, secret until the day he’d swore his heart to her and they were betrothed.

They announced their betrothal together, and although the people cheered, they looked about as interested as a child did in schooling. Deep in her heart, Y/n knew something was wrong. She leaned into Ivar’s side and clenched his hand that rested in her grip, smiling reassuringly when he looked to her with concern. But she wasn’t as calm as she seemed.

One day in the town, a man made his comment known to the future-queen. “I would not be so eager if I were you, miss. That man deserves no more love than his father. A laughing stock.” It made no sense. Sure the brothers spoke of their father with just as much negativity, Bjorn excused, but Kattegat was used to Ragnar as far as she knew. Frankly, she didn’t know much about him.

“But you’re not me.” The man nodded at her point then shrugged to show his lack of care. “I’m a shieldmaiden. I’ve seen gore and felt pain, believe me, I can handle myself.”

He chortled mockingly. “Not for long.”

“Just what exactly are you implying?”

“The cripple. He’ll mess up sooner or later, and you’ll be the proof.”

Her tone was stern yet her voice cracked on the verge of sorrow. “Ivar has never hurt me.” She tried to turn, walk away and ignore the rudeness of the stranger.

“Sure, he hasn’t. Yet.” She hurriedly paced away with anger and fear coursing through her body. The man’s cackles from behind her were unnerving. They sent goosebumps crawling over her skin. “He deserves no love! Especially not yours, queenie!”

As much as she’d hoped it was, that wasn’t only the time the people of Kattegat let her in on their disliking of their betrothal. It happened over and over again, always when Ivar was not present with her. Recognizing the pattern, she began to have Ivar go with her whenever she had places to be. She thought she’d successfully evaded the appalling run-ins. However, when Ivar left her for a split second, the heinous meetings she’d forgotten about had returned.

“Be warned, shieldmaiden. If you don’t call it off, we’ll spare you a life with the crippled freak ourselves.” And just as ominously as they’d appeared, they disappeared. No words were exchanged aside from their warning. A chill shivered down Y/n’s back and she swore she forgot how to breathe until Ivar was next to her, by her side once again.

Y/n was too nervous to tell Ivar, but then again, there was no need. He could see how nervous she was. The whole kingdom could. From the way she never seemed to be mentally present, to the how quick she was to jump at the littlest of things, as well as how concerned about her surroundings she became. It wasn’t until a week before their wedding that Ivar managed to get it out of her.

“You carry your weapon everywhere with you, despite me having my own. What is bothering you, my love?” He tried to gain her attention, but she continued to to avoid his tender eyes. “Do you not trust me?”

His genuine confusion startled her as she shook her head rapidly. Her distrust was announced in bold print, hence her sword being on her hip daily. She was not one to shy away from setting a boundary...apart from this one time. Ivar was one of the few she actually trusted, it hurt that he didn’t know that, that he thought the opposite.

She wept into his chest, wetting his clothes with her sorrow. His hand brushed up and down her back in a comforting manor but her sadness nipped at his curiosity. Y/n explained the events that always seemed follow her when she was in her lonesome. She ranted about the fear that overwhelmed her, carrying it like Atlas carries his burden, the weight of the world on his shoulders equal to the weight now resting on her own.

“Do you agree with them?” The soft tone of his voice held the same worry as it did when he inquired his place in her trust.

Her head snapped up, ensnaring his gaze with her own. “Of course not!”

“Then why listen? It is up to us whether we let their words hold power over us, and if you truly love me, if you truly want to be with me- ...Don’t let them put a gap between us.” His forehead rested against hers as he whispered.

“But...Ivar...they would do anything to stop us from being wed. Even kill me...or you.”

“People can do worse things than kill you.”

She knew he wasn’t talking about her, but simply stating a fact. After all, he was a cripple, and people talk. People talk the worst of things. Those words, the rumors, they all affected him much more than death ever could.

The situations clicked in her mind. The things that happened to him applied to her own life, how negatively the talk in Kattegat had affected her. At this point, killing would be a mercy. A mercy from the cruel whispers that were spoken about or too someone. A mercy from the harsh, judgmental, downgrading glares. 

“Promise me you won’t back down.” His blue orbs flickered with hope.

Y/n lifted her head to take his face in fully. A matching glint was all Ivar could see in her own orbs before their lips collided. Her hands came to rest on his warm skin as her lips found his. Despite the chilling events that had followed their announcement, they wed with one feeling in mind...apart from love.

Hope.

#ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #alex høgh imagine #alex hogh andersen x reader #alex høgh andersen x reader #vikings x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #alex hogh andersen #alex høgh andersen #vikings reader insert #vikings imagine #x reader #reader insert #all readers #zodiyack

[omnivorousshipper]

De aged Deckard: You’re gonna go far, kid : Part 23

Summary: When the Shaw siblings try to break into an Eteon facility, they’re met with some unexpected consequences. Now, it’s up to Owen and Hattie to be the older siblings Deckard never had. Even if they have no idea what they’re doing

Part 22

           Standing next to his estranged wife and several of her henchmen, most of whom Victor knew wished to kill him on the spot, Victor waited for the door to open. It had been an intense last few hours since he and Queenie traveled all the way to LA to help their younger children to find their eldest. During their conversation, Queenie had threatened his life at least half a dozen times, while she had subtly hinted at his food on the plane being poisoned. He made sure to keep direct eye contact with her with every bite he took. Luckily, he only received a mild stomachache for his trouble.

           Now, he faced more than just Queenie’s threats: he had to face his youngest children. Victor wished he was back in London, the only thing he had to worry about was helping give his nephew his testosterone shot. Poor boy was too scared of needles to give it to himself.

           Ever since Deckard had shown back up in his life, only ten years old again, Victor couldn’t ignore the second chance he was being given. He had to do something. Even if that meant facing his other two children. He could only hope he was useful enough to Queenie that she’ll tell their children not to kill him. But, he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

           As the door opened, Victor was a bit shocked at having to raise his eyes to meet those of agent Luke Hobbs’. He honestly hadn’t been expecting the man to be so tall. Or buff. Of even so handsome. Frowning, Victor quickly had to rethink his previous thoughts on Luke Hobbs.

           Maybe there was a reason to why Deckard started dating the man.

           Before Victor or Queenie could say anything, there was a flash of movement and Victor lost track of what was happening. One moment, he was standing before Hobbs and then the next he was on the ground, his breath gone as a body slammed him into the ground and a sharp pain ran up his shoulder as he yelled in agony. He could feel the blade being pulled back from his shoulder, ripping something inside him and making nerves light up in the worse pain he had experienced in a long time. Panting, Victor looked up at his attacker and swore he saw a younger version of himself.

           “Owen!”

           As suddenly as the attack had come, Owen was pulled off of him just as quickly. Watching his son’s face move away from his rapidly, Victor pushed a hand down on his fresh wound and stared as his son fought against Hobbs.

           Or more struggled to get out of the large man’s grip and failed miserably.

           If Victor hadn’t just gotten stabbed, he would have laughed at his son’s expense as he wiggled, clawed, and even bit at Hobbs, but to no avail. His feet were completely off the ground and Hobbs’ arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Owen was at Hobbs’ mercy and looked to hate every second of it.

           “What the fuck is wrong with you, you little freak?!” Hobbs bellowed. “Why in the fresh hell would you attack an old man?”

           “Fuck you!” Owen howled and started to claw at Hobbs’ head. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

           “Do it after he helps us find your bloody brother!” Queenie shouted, storming up to her son. Reaching up, she grabbed Owen’s face and brought it down, closer to her own. “If you hadn’t lost him again, that bastard wouldn’t even be here right now!”

           “I didn’t lose him!” Owen growled, now struggling in his mother’s and Hobbs’ holds. “It was Hobbs’ fault!”

           “What?!” Hobbs grunted, straining to keep Owen restrained.

           “You’re the one who left the bloody window open!”

           “You didn’t tell me you were being stalked by someone who wanted to kidnap him!”

           Victor simply watched as his second son and the man his other son was dating argued. If he had to guess, one appeal of Hobbs to Deckard was just how much he could annoy Owen. And stop the younger man from doing something regrettable.

           “Let me down!” Owen snarled and kept trying to kick at Hobbs’ knees with his heels.

           “No! I’m not going to let you kill an old man! What’d he even do to you?!”

           “He’s my bloody father! That’s why!”

           Feeling a sense of dread snake down his spine, Victor tensed as he saw Hobbs still and narrow his eyes at him. He wished the larger man wasn’t sending him that look because it was obvious Deckard had already shared something with the man about his childhood. And how much of a bastard Victor truly had been when his children had been young.

           “Why are you here?” Hobbs asked, deathly calm, even as he still kept Owen restrained.

           “Because,” Victor pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it up. “I’m the only one who has a way to track Deckard.”

           “What?” Owen stared at him, finally stopping his struggling. “How?”

           “I gave him a phone-”

           “When the bloody fuck did you do that?” Owen snapped.

           “When you lost him in the park and I brought him home.” Victor drawled.

           “I didn’t lose him! And Deck said a woman brought him back.”            “You honestly think your brother didn’t lie?” Victor raised an eyebrow.

           “No! Deck would never lie to me, not about something that important.”

           Victor glanced over at Queenie, silently asking her if he was being serious. She didn’t look any more impressed than he was. There weren’t many times Owen was ever naïve in his life, but Victor wasn’t expecting one of those times to be now. Not about his brother of all people.

           “Deckard didn’t want to tell you that he had seen me. I asked him not to.” Victor shrugged. “He’s very obedient, if you don’t remember.”

           “You arsehole-!” Owen hissed and renewed his struggling.

           “Would you stop?!” Luke snapped.

           “Not until I put a knife in that bastard’s heart!”

           “If we keep standing around here, then the stab you wound you left in my shoulder will suffice.” Victor sneered.

           “Good.” Owen growled back, pure venom dripping from that one word.

           “That’s enough.” Queenie told him sharply, and looked at Hobbs. “If you wouldn’t mind bringing my son inside, I would like to start searching for my other wayward child.”

           “He was kidnapped, not simply running away for attention.” Victor glared at the woman’s nonchalant attitude.

           “And last time I remembered, you didn’t give two shites about our children.” Queenie narrowed her eyes at him, and Victor saw her right hand man reach slightly into his suit jacket.

           This was going to be a long day.

#deckard shaw #owen shaw #dad shaw #luke hobbs #magdalene shaw #omni writes #de aged fic #a different de aged fic #hobbs and shaw

[bittykimmy13]

The Clandestine Queen (GT Story)

Premise: A trinket no taller than the pieces on a chessboard takes a champion player by surprise.

Another trinket short that is comparatively tamer than others, but intense in its own way ;) I binged The Queen's Gambit, and it inspired me to write a GT story involving chess. I had a lot of fun writing this one! Enjoy! :D

Warning: mentions of dehumanization The print / trinket universe belongs to me and the lovely @little-miss-maggie​ / @marydublin5​ <3

(( Read more about the print and trinket universe here! ))

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The wheels rolled smoothly along the carpet. She sat on her knees in a prim posture, her hands on her lap and her back straight. The glass walls around her were so polished, she could almost forget she was trapped. The steaming room-sized meal on the plate beside her kept her from forgetting entirely, though. With each door the waiter wheeled the cart past, she braced herself. He didn’t come to a stop until the last door on the right—room 3218. A luxury suite.

The waiter knocked. “Room service!”

Footsteps thudded on the other side. The door swung open to reveal a man with dark hair, dark clothing, and an even darker look on his face. How curious for someone to look so inconvenienced by the arrival of a gourmet meal they ordered.

“Good evening, sir,” the waiter said.

“Make it quick,” the man muttered, stepping back to allow the cart to pass through the door.

This gave her a full view of the suite. The first and only thing she noticed was the chessboard set up by the window, illuminated by a single lamp and the moonlight glowing through the panes. This man was here for the tournament. No wonder he looked so irked by the interruption.

Her eyes went glassy. Trinkets were supposed to be anonymous once they went through the facility, stripped of their past identities before they were sent out to whatever random bar, hotel, brothel, or business they were assigned. Since the beginning of the tournament that week, she had no doubt that her placement at this hotel was intentional, designed to taunt and torture her until she drew her last breath.

Tearing her eyes away from the chessboard, she looked up at the man as he spoke. She wondered if she had met him at some point, in her other life. He didn’t look familiar.

“I did not ask for a trinket,” the man said, barely looking at her. He had an accent that suggested Spanish or Portuguese as a first language. An international player.

“She’s complimentary, sir,” the waiter said. “A token of congratulations for your victories today.”

The man didn’t blink. “I don’t want her.”

“Would you like me to bring one that suits your preference?”

He sneered. “I am not interested in spending my night with a felon.”

The waiter cleared his throat. “Well, you can simply leave her in the case. Should you change your mind, your room key has a sensor to open it. Please ensure you place her back inside and shut it properly before leaving the room or setting the tray outside. Though, I can assure you our trinkets are well-behaved.”

The guests were less so. Twice now, she had been sampled by other people on the way to their rooms after she’d been sloppily left on the tray outside the door.

“Fine.” The man whisked the tray off the cart before the waiter could, setting it on the coffee table in front of a lounger. All the while, she held perfectly still and kept her eyes trained up at him, trying to figure out if she’d met him before.

“Have a lovely night, Mr. Soto,” the waiter said with a nod, pulling the cart out of the room. “And best of luck tomorrow.”

Soto. The name made her jaw clenched. Andres Soto. A 30-year-old champion from Argentina, visiting the U.S. for the first time. There was no way they could have met before, but they certainly would have crossed paths at some point, had things turned out differently.

She continued to stare at him as he grabbed the plate of food from beside her and took it over to the chess table, ignoring her entirely. Just when she thought that was the end of that, Andres returned to the tray.

Fear. She couldn’t stop it from coming, but she had long since learned what to do when it showed up. Even before she was a trinket. Imagine your spine turning to steel, Kate would tell her. And look your opponent in the eye.

She wet her lips and willed her spine to turn to steel, certain that he did intend on toying with her despite his disgust toward her. However, when his rattling steps paused in front of the coffee table, he merely reached down to grab the glass of red wine across the tray from her.

Again, he made it clear that she was beneath his notice.

“Is that a chessboard?” she blurted before he could walk away.

He turned back, his dark eyes locking on her. What a stupid thing to say. Why would she draw his attention when everything was in her favor? A night of being ignored was a blessing she could not have dreamed of, and here she was throwing it away. She could be like the poor trinkets that had been gathered downstairs in the dining hall, being used as game pieces by drunken tournament losers.

“Obvio,” Andres said simply, starting toward his board again.

“May I see?”

Another pause. Frustration mounted in his stance. He walked back to the coffee table with heavier steps. He loomed over her and stared down. She couldn’t be sure if he was purposely trying to intimidate her, or if it was a side-effect of him trying to figure her out. Chess players had a particular look about them, the way they tried to analyze the person before them. Which meant he viewed her at least somewhat like a person. Fascinating.

“I’m studying,” he growled out. Intimidation. No doubt. “I have no time to entertain you.”

“I’m not asking for entertainment,” she said. “Only to see the board.”

“You are bothersome.” He filled more of her vision as he bent down to pick up the tray. He started for the door. “Shall I toss you into the next room? Perhaps they will enjoy you more.”

“I want to play,” she informed him calmly. But on the inside, her heart felt like it was ripping to bloody pieces with each step that carried her away from the chessboard. She needed to see it.

Andres stopped in his tracks, making her waver in her seat only slightly. “You?” he asked skeptically.

“Me.” She shrugged and cocked her head at him. “Or I can help you study. You’re replaying today’s games, aren’t you? That’s what I’d be doing. I didn’t like it when they brought me trinkets, either.”

He lifted the tray higher and narrowed his eyes at her, his stare on the tipping point between intrigue and dangerous aggravation. “Who are you?”

“I’ve been told that my name is Queenie.”

He didn’t take the bait and ask for her real name. Some pathetic and silly part of her wanted to tell him herself without prompting. A talented player like him would recognize her name—for better or for worse. But she kept her mouth shut. For all she knew, he’d go on a power trip knowing he had a former chess champion at his mercy.

Setting the tray down, he swept up the case and carried it over to the chess table. He used the sensor on his room key to open the door for her. She stood slowly to accommodate the soreness of her knees, then stepped out onto the table. She admired the board with a fluttering heart, hiding a smile. It was a fancy one—the squares lit up where the pieces were put. Half the pieces were set aside, while the ones on the board were in active play.

Andres took a seat and picked at his food with a fork. “Here you see the twenty-second move from my last match this afternoon,” he told her. “I was black. It was her turn.”

Folding her hands behind her back, she strolled around the outside of the board, weaving around discarded pieces. She tried hard not to think about the fact that the king and queen were taller than her.

“You know,” she said. “There’s an app that can sync with this board. It allows you to record the moves of your previous games. It sets up the pieces for you, turn by turn.”

He scoffed. “You think I am not aware? I find that doing it the old-fashioned way is better. Keeps the mind sharp.”

“I agree.” She examined the placement of the pieces on the board and felt a tingle of familiar exhilaration, able to see different avenues of victory for Andres. He had his opponent cornered by this point. “How many moves left until you beat her?”

“Six, counting her next one.”

“Hm. You could have done it in three.”

He raised his eyebrows, more surprised by her impudence than annoyed. “Imposible,” he murmured in his mother tongue as he eyed the board to find what she meant. Then he shook his head. “I don’t see it.”

She gestured at the board. “May I?”

Waving his hand dismissively, he sat back and took a sip of wine. Against all odds, she was not garnishing a drink or plate tonight. For that moment, she was in the past—simply having a conversation with a rival, trying to outdo one another and pick each other’s brains. The illusion was lost when she had to actually climb onto the board. The squares lit up beneath her feet as she stepped on them.

“Let me guess,” she said. “She moved the bishop here?” The piece was only slightly shorter than her. Pushing it in a diagonal line, she gave Andres an expectant look.

“Good guess.”

Tapping her chin, she turned slowly to examine the slightly altered layout. In her mind’s eye, she could see the pieces moving and track the placement of each turn that created the five remaining moves leading to Andres’ victory. Without having to ask, she knew precisely what he and his opponent had done.

“May I show you how you could have put her away quicker?”

“Do it.” Andres watched in silence as she moved a black piece, then white, then black again.

“Checkmate,” she announced, planting one hand on her hip.

Andres set the wine glass down so hard, she thought it would shatter. He dropped his elbows on the table, rattling the board beneath her feet. Steepling his fingers, he scoured the board with his eyes and muttered to himself. Finally, his eyebrows quirked up again when he looked at her.

“Insightful. I will study this strategy.” He did not thank her, but then again, players rarely did under normal circumstances. She did sense a begrudging sense of gratitude lurking somewhere underneath, particularly when he spoke up again. “Let’s play.”

Not an offer. Not a suggestion. An order.

“I am yours tonight,” she told him just to see the faint disgust on his face at the reminder that he was spending the night with a felon.

Piss off your opponent when you can, Kate would say. Makes ‘em more likely to fuck up. Oh, and if you manage to stay classy while pissing 'em off? Honey, you're golden.

He gave her no time to move out of the way as he began to arrange the pieces into their starting positions. She was forced to stay in the middle of the board, lest he bump her with his quick movements. Although she tried to appear as calm as ever, there was a tightness to her mouth as his hands flew over her, fingers and chess pieces narrowly missing her head. Months ago, she arranged boards just as effortlessly. Now she needed both arms to move a single piece.

“Black or white?” she asked when he was finished.

“Your choice.” He plucked up a black and white pawn, one in each hand. His hands vanished under the table as he shuffled the two pieces out of her sight. Then he held his closed fists in front of her. She shuffled two steps back; he moved so quickly, she couldn’t be sure he would stop. “Choose,” he said when she stayed frozen for all of two seconds.

She pointed to his right hand, and he opened it to reveal the black piece. He placed it in front of her, and she slid it over to its spot.

And then the game began.

Andres made the first move, nudging a pawn from its place on the front line. The surreality of the situation almost left her breathless. It had been so long since she played, but all at once she felt herself fall back without a second thought, as if she hadn’t missed a single day. She was able to move the pieces on her own, up until she wanted to move a knight that was still nestled among the other pieces with no clear pathway out.

Just as she was considering carrying it around the outside of the board, a massive hand filled her vision. She flinched to the edge of the board and nearly fell off, staring up at Andres with wide eyes and a clenched jaw. He picked up the knight and weighed it in his hand.

“Where do you need it?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“F6,” she croaked.

The spike of fright did not derail the strategies that unfolded in her mind. The game went on. When she began taking some of his pieces, he did not hesitate to help her out, setting them aside without waiting for her to struggle or ask. He was just as focused as her, eager to keep the game flowing—all the more so as the game entered its thirtieth move.

She paced up and down the edge of the board, rubbing the back of her neck thoughtfully. He was good. But she knew she was better. The problem was a stark disadvantage with her size.

“I need to see the whole board,” she realized aloud. “It’s frustrating to gauge it like this.”

Laser-focused on her plight, she didn’t see Andres’ hand coming. In the forty-five minutes they had been playing, she had gotten used to him plucking up pieces and avoiding her. A fresh thrill of fear closed around her heart as his fingers pinched her waist and swept her up. She gave a choked cry, her hands digging into the sides of his fingers as her legs dangled over empty air. She was perfectly accustomed to being held like this, but amid the game, she had forgotten the reality of her life.

“You said you wanted to see the board,” he said to her reaction, and she was surprised to hear the slightest note of apology.

She looked across at his face, the way his eyebrows were furrowed in faint concern. Wetting her lips, she swallowed hard and focused down at the board. Her breathing calmed as her world began to make sense again. She could see several pathways to victory for both of them—which meant she knew exactly how to thwart him.

“Thank you,” she said when she was done, squirming slightly in his pinched grip. He put her back down with more care than he did the pieces.

Three moves later, doubt began to creep in. Not doubt that she could beat him—doubt if she should. He was a champion. She used to be. Now she was nothing but a trinket—even less important than a pawn on a chessboard. Even if she was superior in commanding the game, he held all the power over her the moment it was over.

If he was a sore loser, he could quite literally kill her.

Pursing her lips, she analyzed the board and spotted a trap he was obviously setting up for her by using his last rook and bishop. A lesser player would fall for it easily. She took the bait, pretending to be sure of herself.

“Check,” he said upon his next move.

She moved her queen, protecting her king while sealing her doom. “Right back at you.”

A little smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He took out her queen. “And that’s checkmate.”

Sighing, she tipped her king over with both hands. It clattered and rolled a short distance. “Guess I’m out of practice,” she said.

His accursed hand moved for her again, and for a second, she thought she had thrown the game for nothing. He was going to torment her anyway. A part of her was royally ticked off—she should have let herself beat his ass if things were going to end up like this anyway. But his hand stopped just short of her, finger extended.

“Good game,” he said. “Tough game.”

She released her caught breath, looking from his finger to his face and back again. She pressed her hand to his fingertip. “Tough game,” she agreed.

“It went on longer than any of the others I played this week.” He examined her once again. It was more overwhelming when he looked at her with a multitude of things other than disgust and detached interest. “Chess is clearly close to your heart. A shame this happened to you.” He gestured vaguely at her miniature stature.

She shrugged. “Chess saved my life. And then ended it.”

He nodded as if he had any clue what she meant by that. In a way, she supposed all serious players at least understood the first half.

Andres’ hands flew around her again as he began picking up pieces and setting them back into their starting positions. “Again?” he asked. And this time it was undoubtedly an offer.

She eyed the squares on the board, the white team forming in front of her in a whirlwind. There would never be another opportunity like this again. Despite all odds, she had returned to her haven of sixty-four squares. A distraction from the real world, just for tonight.

“Again,” she said, smiling for the first time at him.

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The next night, she couldn’t decide if she was surprised to be requested back in the same room. She did not allow herself to win the night before. It was enough just to come close and know she could decimate Andres’ strategies if she wanted to. Perhaps he wanted another night of analyzing his games of the day.

One night of bliss was lucky. Two was unheard of.

Andres wasn’t any friendlier with the waiter tonight, and strangely, the moment the door shut, his hardened expression didn’t become any less guarded with her. He set the tray down and lifted the glass case before his eyes. Maybe he always needed time to thaw out.

“Congratulations,” she said, noting the gold trophy by the window. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I’m not the celebrating kind.”

She snorted. “I never would have guessed.”

The slightest smile touched his lips—obviously involuntary. His eyes did not move from her, seeking something. “When I finished my opponents early today, it gave me the time to think. And the time to replay our games from last night. You see, something was bothering me.”

Goosebumps rose along her arms, but she said nothing and kept her expression neutral.

“Anyone who plays an entire match like that would not fall for those endgame strategies so easily. Certainly not five times in a row.” He brought her closer to his face. There was nowhere to hide. He knew. He knew everything. “You threw the games. All of them.”

She played dumb. “A smart man like you should understand why a trinket in my position would do that.”

Scoffing, he reached into his pocket to pull out his room key. He opened the case, and rather than reach inside to grab her, he tilted it and made her slide out onto his palm. She couldn’t breathe for a second, scrambling to sit up and redeem what little dignity she could. Her heart thundered like a galloping horse as he carried her over to the chess table and gruffly dropped her on the middle of the board. When he took a seat, he leaned down and propped his chin on the backs of his fingers, putting himself nearly at eye level with her.

“I studied your moves,” he went on. “I researched female players with the same playing style.”

He knew.

Shuddering, she started to back away.

“I found someone who matched,” he said. “And she vanished from the chess world four months ago.”

“Andres…”

He straightened, touching the top of the queen piece on his side with his fingertip, toying with it. “Lorelei Weaver. The night after you came in second in the U.S. Championship, you were arrested for first-degree murder.

Her voice started to rise. "You don't understand—"

"You pushed the champion, Kate Miller, in front of a subway train in New York.”

“She was my friend!” she shrieked. “You don’t know shit! I was framed!”

He cocked his head. “Sentenced to be a trinket.”

She collapsed onto her knees and covered her face, shoulders wracking with sobs. She had not cried since she was human. For a moment, she was gone. All she could hear was the roar of the train. The screaming. Her own screaming. It echoed so loudly in her ears, she was surprised she wasn’t doing it in front of Andres. He said nothing, merely observed her as she cried herself out and gathered her bearings again.

“Louis Mclean came in third,” she went on in a thin voice, dropping her hands to her knees. “I humiliated him in the semi-finals. I beat him in less than ten moves because he was cocky. Just like that, in ten moves, all of his training was shot down and meaningless.” She swallowed hard, feeling tears brim up again. “Then Kate beat me. Oh, I was pissed. But she was my friend. And Mclean wasn’t done playing.”

She sniffled, flinching when Andres’ hand appeared beside her. He touched her shoulder with his fingertip, his expression unreadable as he regarded her.

“Go on,” he said.

“One, he invited us out to eat the next night. Two, he made sure we were standing in a blind spot while we waited for the subway. Three, he pushed her. Four, he jumped back while I tried to catch her. Five, he screamed that I killed her. In half the number of moves it took me to put him away in the semi-finals, he eliminated us both. Six moves, if you count him puking when he looked down at Kate’s blood on his clothes.”

Her words hung in the air like falling snow, until it settled.

Andres did not speak for a full minute. Then he gave a slow nod. “I see.”

She wiped her eyes. “You believe me?”

“Whether I believe you makes no difference, does it? That game is over.” He folded his arms on the table in front of the board, looking down the bridge of his nose at her. “But I vowed not to leave this place until I beat every worthy competitor. It would be an honor to play you again, Lorelei Weaver. And this time, don’t you dare go easy on me.”

She stood slowly, her body and mind still deciding whether to fall apart or put itself back together. Then she straightened her back, turned her spine to steel, and looked up to meet her opponent’s eyes.

“Black or white?”

#giant/tiny #gt #g/t #giant #tiny #gt writing #gt story #print universe #the clandestine queen #lorelei #andres #mywriting