#too many to chose from so i just narrowed it down to my favorite 11

[miodiodavinci]

3, 4, 10, 11, and 29 for the ask game?

these are fun questions!! sorry if i chose too many lol

ohhh thank you ! ! ! ! ! ! ;; o ;; i'll put these under a read more because oh no these are so long askjfdhklf

3. What ideas come from when you were little

well Very Little Me ala elementary school exclusively drew cats and dragons and digimon and neopets and i feel like a lot of that no longer exists in my art outside of very vague plans to one day get back into just making funky technicolor animals for the hell of it

but like in terms of character and story concepts funnily enough, i feel like what i enjoy and really want to achieve now is essentially what Middle School Little Me deeply wanted to draw but adamantly refused themself on principle due to a lot of internalized ideas about what makes "good" and "bad" characters

like little me loved reading cheap mangas and watching cruddy AMVs and reading edgy over-dramatic short stories and looking at people's neon winged scene cat OCs on devianart but also refused to let themself publicly acknowledge liking any of these things, much less allowed themself to draw them, and thus existed in this sort of tense "ohhhh i hate you so much you're So Cool and Look So Fun but that's because you're Bad and Terrible and therefore my stuff is So Much Better™ because it's Boring and not you" phase for years until i got into VOCALOID and realized "wait drawing anime crap fucks" and never looked back ADKJHAKL

like my typical pre-VOCALOID OC would have been Some Guy™ with an Exceptionally Normal Life™ who had a Weird Science Thing™ happen to him that i'd then have to explain for 30 pages before i lost interest and dropped like a rock, but my typical post-VOCALOID OC is literally like

"okay so basically they're a cassette tape who's been animated by this hell facility and is maybe magic but is also maybe just the secondary protagonist projecting herself onto the tape as she's done with the other 7 junk people here but ALSO they're special because they can see alternate timelines and they don't speak but people understand them because they talk through implied second person narration like an RPG protagonist. this is a canon, in-meta aspect of their character. do not steal."

ww that aside, art style-wise at least, i can Definitely Say™ that while a lot of my middle school art style has kind of disappeared over the years, that thing where i draw the hips forward and the legs pointed back a bit with the whole body kind of forming an acute angle that is absolutely something middle school me discovered that i have yet to figure out how to break AKDJHALDKJ

like

dig through my artwork and you will find a million and ten examples of this Exact™ leg placement, ranging from subtle to extreme w

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

(hands clenched and trembling) i have this one character i've been working on for two years now that i have a Very Specific Design In Mind For™ but he's so non-descript that it's Impossible to narrow down What™ that design is so he's looked different every single time i've drawn or tried to design him It's Hell™

rest in fucking pieces, virgil

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

m m m m i know i definitely love drawing big baggy clothes that obscure the form underneath because heehee easy to take shortcuts, and y'all Know™ i like drawing cool boots because i have my own boots to reference 24/7 and thus it's second nature at this point, but i don't know if i have a favorite piece of clothing specifically??

i like scarves, i like hoodies, i like boots, i like oversized jackets, i like gloves, i like front-brimmed hats , , , , ,

still haven't figured out how to make dresses that make sense though and that kills me every day 😭

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what?

i do ! ! ! and more often than not it is one of two massive playlists i have that each contain upwards of 1500 vocalo works because i physically cannot get enough of these funky little vocal synths AKDJHADLKJ

admittedly nowadays it's moved on from being exclusively VOCALOID/UTAU + some nostalgic touhou classics and has been peppered more and more with non-vocal synth works ala syudou's non-vocalo things, su lee, bill wurtz, woodkid, sigur rós, and a small smattering of other artists (though again the playlist is 99.9% vocal synth www)

i really, truly need to get into other artists though because every time someone asks what sort of music i'm into i feel death approach me like a dark horse on an open moor OTL

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

this one i had to think about for. a really long time askdjsdjf

it might be kind of a simple answer, but i'd probably have to say OFF? which is to say that i adore the game with all my heart and love replaying it every couple of years, but it's the kind of game i enjoy just experiencing and reminiscing about rather than pulling it apart and emulating in my own works w

either way, thank you for asking ! ! ! ! a a a a ! ! ! !

#mio answers things #anon #weirdly specific ask game #miodoodledavinci #← whoops i included never-before-seen OC art so now it's going in this tag #i love you virgil but i am shaking your boring ass by the shoulders why won't you work with me

[ao719]

Hiii ☃️♥️

3, 4, 6 and 11 for Full Disclosure please ☺️

Narrowing it down was so hard 😂🤣

My girl!! 😂

I’m going to throw in Full Disclosure: The Beginning too, since it’s connected 😂

Also, yes, narrowing down my answers was so hard, lol!

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Oh god … hjDhskhdksjc. I had to really go through the chapters. This is one of many, and it’s very short, but I chose this little bit from FD because I ended up using a piece of it in something Charlotte said to Liam when I wrote FD:TB and I love it, lol.

Liam was always hers to love, but never hers to keep. That had just been the sad reality of their relationship.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Honestly … this is was so hard 😆 Again, one of many. But … tacos.

Charlotte began talking, and Liam wasn’t sure if it was to him or herself. “Love is … I mean I love stuff. Like tacos. I love tacos. Like, love love. And cake, I love cake too. And puppies. Who doesn't love puppies? But I mean this …” she gestured between them. “Is this love? Like love love? Or lust? Or … holy shit. Is it? No, wait. But this is crazy, right? It's been like … a whole five minutes …” Charlotte stopped her pacing for a moment, her chest quickly rising and falling with each breath. “I mean I like him, a lot. A lot, a lot. Like … how I like tacos … but I just said that I love tacos. So does that mean? That … oh my God!” she gasped and covered her mouth.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

Charlotte™️ 😆 I don’t have another MC or OC like her. She is her own brand, lol.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I love the way Charlotte makes Liam laugh. It’s one of my favorite things. But I think my favorite is Charlotte and Drake’s ridiculous friendship. I love how much they love/hate each other. They can absolutely torture one another, fight like crazy, almost try and kill one another, lol, but at the end of the day they have each other’s backs, and I think in FD:TB it really showed that best.

Thanks for the asks @21-wishes 💕

#asks #fanfic writers asks

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 11: Another Threat

“W-what?”

You stared at the tiny sliver of gold balancing between Yoongi’s fingers. You couldn’t believe what was happening. How the heck had Jungkook’s ring gotten into his possession?

“It was a simple question.” He stopped you before you could reply. “And don’t try to lie to me. I can see through shit like that.”

“How did you find out?” you asked as your grip tightened around the handle of the duffel bag and the computer bag. “Did he tell you?”

“Not exactly,” he answered. “I overheard an argument he had with his parents some time ago, talking about wanting to cancel ‘the marriage’. Although I wasn’t sure who he was supposed to marry against his will…” Yoongi looked pointedly at your currently naked finger. “I saw the ring on your finger yesterday. It makes too much sense considering your strange relationship and the time of the accident for all to be a mere coincidence. So tell me: when were you telling us about you and Jungkook’s engagement?”

“Where did you get that?” you asked instead, pointing at the band. “Did you steal it from him?”

“I would never steal,” he said sharply, reacting for the first time since you had met him. “I was in charge of washing our clothes once when I discovered it in his pocket. It was before he had met Park Yi-Jae, so don’t try to give me that explanation.”

You swallowed your words. You didn’t know what to say.

“Does she know?”

You shook your head.

“Did you know about her?”

You felt your jaw clench instinctively in anger. Yoongi raised a brow. “You didn’t. Huh. So that’s the private subject you couldn’t disclose and what you and Jungkook fought about yesterday.”

“Move aside,” you demanded as you tried to assume a neutral expression. You couldn’t believe he was reading through you as easily as that. “I have to get back to Jungkook.”

“Not yet,” he told you. “You haven’t answered my questions.”

“You have no right to any of the answers,” you said coolly. “And you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone.”

“Do you know why he stayed with you?”

“No,” you said instantly. “There’s not a minute that goes by without me asking myself: Why would that bastard decide to deceive both of our parents and me? Why remain engaged to me when he loves another girl?” You narrowed your eyes. “Why ask? Isn’t this an obvious frame of mind?”

“Who am I to presume what you might or might not consider,” he said simply, then took a step closer to you. He lowered his voice. “Now, the rest of them might believe your tear-jerker, but I think it’s shit. There is something you want from Jungkook, isn’t it? That’s why you’re helping him.”

“No,” you began, “as I just explained--”

“People aren’t like that,” interrupted Yoongi. He wore an expressionless guise, and even his eyes and tone were inscrutable. “They don’t help someone purely at the goodness of their hearts and childhood cotton clouds. As for the reason why Jungkook chose to stay with you even when he has a girlfriend…” He snorted. “Are you really so naive you cannot see the blatant answer?”

You inhaled sharply but didn’t respond. You were doing your best not to drop the duffel bag and the computer and just swing at him.

Min Yoongi’s gaze hardened. “It’s for your name and money, Einstein.”

“Never,” you said venomously. “Do you really have so little trust in your own group member? In Jungkook? Don’t you know at least how proud he is? He would never stoop to that level.”

“Perhaps not. But he doesn’t really have a say in the marriage, does he? Think (Y/N), you attend a SKY university, so you ought to have at least some brain capacity. Who else would be able to have access to your family vault?”

“His parents,” you realized breathlessly. “His father, to be more exact.”

You couldn’t deny the truth of his words. Jungkook’s father had never been good with money and was far too fond of the bottle for someone who often ran into major economic predicaments. But why would your parents allow it to happen? What would they gain from you marrying Jungkook?

And perhaps the most important question: How and what did Min Yoongi know about Jungkook’s parents? Jungkook wasn’t the personal, talkative type. He wouldn’t have shared such delicate details of his upbringing with anyone. Right?

“Solved the mystery, did we?” He brushed some invisible dirt off his shoulders. “You can thank me after you’ve answered the rest of my questions.”

“Get out of my way.” You had too many thoughts fuddling your mind to be polite or try to be diplomatic. “I will scream if you don’t.”

Yoongi held your eyes for a moment before he tsked in annoyance and allowed you to step past. You were practically running out of the room, and only barely caught the last of a sarcastic: “--nice evening.”

Jimin stood in the kitchen washing dishes together with Taehyung, while Namjoon and Hoseok sat at the table reading off the master list. Seokjin was nowhere to be seen, and you guessed he probably was in one of the bathrooms. Music played in the background, only slightly louder than the sound of running water and the clinking and clanking of pots, plates and cutlery. It was like stepping into a whole different world compared to the unfriendly tension you had experienced with Yoongi.

Hoseok had lighted up when he spotted you, but his eyes rounded when he saw your face. Fortunately, you managed to speak first.

“I really need to get to the hospital,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound half as furious as you were.

“Here’s the list,” said Namjoon hesitantly, since he also saw your expression.

“Thanks. And thank you again for the food.”

You took the paper and folded it into your back pocket. Jimin’s initial smile fell when he met your gaze, though Taehyung simply furrowed his brows in confusion and glanced toward the room you frankly had escaped.

“I’ll leave now,” you said hurriedly before anyone could comment on your obviously upsetting conversation with Yoongi. “Goodbye.”

Their united farewell followed you as you ambled down the hallway. You did your best not to look behind you, but you felt his dark, knowing eyes drilling into your back.

This wasn’t the last you had seen of Min Yoongi.

You were putting on your shoes when a door almost swung into your face. It was becoming a bad habit, but as you skittered out of the way, you couldn’t help but yelp in surprise. Stepping out of the bathroom was Seokjin, who strangely wore a jacket and gave you a curious look.

“I figured I could help carry down the stuff,” he told you, then pointed at a few canvas bags slumped against the shelves. “Those are Jungkook’s favorite shoes. You should probably take them with you as well, if only because he bought all himself.”

You and Seokjin stood in the descending elevator when you texted Jong-Yeol to come and pick you up. But as the two of you waddled out of the building carrying Jungkook’s belongings - Seokjin having offered to carry significantly more, an offer which you gracefully refused - you found that Jong-Yeol was already directly outside.

“Thank you for the help,” you said after Seokjin and Jong-Yeol had filled up the trunk. “I didn’t realize how much I had stolen from Namjoon until I tried lifting the bag up, and by then, all of his clothes were buried underneath Jungkook’s.”

“Typical,” said Seokjin with a laugh. “It’s really no effort, though.”

“Still, thanks,” you said as you opened the car door. “Let’s buy some takeaway first,” you told Jong-Yeol. “Jungkook’s probably starving.”

Jong-Yeol hurried around the side of the car to get into the driving seat. “Chinese?”

“Hmm, no. Fried chicken.”

“Before you leave, (Y/N)...”

Halfway into the car, you stopped and glanced over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Take care of Jeon Jungkook on behalf of all six members,” said Seokjin solemnly, his gaze trailing the ground. “And feel free to contact us whenever you need help or whatever. I’ll message Sejin-manager and tell him he should give you our numbers at the hospital.”

“He’s already given me all of your numbers,” you said with a smile. “I can send my KakaoTalk ID to you later tonight if you want, since it’s cheaper that way.”

Kim Seokjin smiled, too. “That would be convenient. Bye, (Y/N).”

He helped you with the car door, and then you were off. As much as you still boiled inside due to Min Yoongi and the situation he both had established and stirred up, you knew you couldn’t show distress in the face of Jungkook. He needed you strong, dependable, now more than ever.

Besides, it wasn’t as if you could ask him about the reason and dynamic of the engagement on his part. He was amnesic.

And perhaps that was for the better.

It was a fifteen-minute drive to the nearest fried chicken shop due to traffic. It took another fifteen for you to get to Asan Medical Center, which on the other hand was fortunate considering the number of cars filling the streets. You managed to get your emotions under control, even though the question kept brewing in the back of your mind.

What was the reason your parents wanted you to marry Jungkook so direly?

After checking the time on your phone and saying bye to Jong-Yeol, you jogged through the hospital toward Jungkook’s room. In your purse were a pair of fresh jeans and a t-shirt you had picked out at random from the duffel bag, and in your left hand, you held the chicken that was surprisingly yet warm. You knew he was the combination of brave, proud and stupid to never go back on his words. And since he so foolishly had proclaimed that he wouldn’t let himself be fed, you had decided upon fried chicken, which didn’t really need cutlery of any sort.

You were a bit anxious, not knowing what state he could possibly be in, but as you opened the door to his room and spotted him in his bed, surrounded by Kim Sejin, a woman in doctor’s robe and--

Park Yi-Jae. She was sitting quietly in a chair pulled up next to Jungkook’s bed, watching him. Her eyes narrowed when you burst through the door.

“(Y/N)! Finally!”

Jungkook blatantly pointed at you. “She’s the one,” he told the doctor eagerly. “I cannot remember anyone but her."

You noticed Yi-Jae and Sejin cringe, though both out of different reasons. Sejin looked hurt, while Yi-Jae stared pleadingly at Jungkook. He ignored both.

He only saw you.

You tried not to flush with embarrassment as the female doctor scrutinized you from head to toe. She was in her mid-thirties, short and had cut her black hair to shoulder-length, though it was loosely tied just above her neck currently. The doctor readjusted her glasses then held up a blue plastic clipboard slightly.

“Then perhaps you might be more helpful handling him,” she said. Her voice reminded you a bit of your mother’s, sharp and quick, though lower and more pleasant to the ears.

“We’ll leave (Y/N) to it, then. Come,” said Sejin and carefully touched Yi-Jae’s shoulder when she didn’t respond.

“No, I can’t leave him,” she protested, her tone trembling. “Not again. Only a terrible person would leave his or her beloved when they’re in a state such as this. I will rise above anything he might say, because the fact is, he simply doesn’t know better. And maybe I can help, too.”

Yi-Jae reached out and curled her fingers around Jungkook’s. His focus shifted slowly from you to her as she spoke.

“Do you really not feel or remember anything?” she asked him, the desperation making her voice hoarse. You could see tears lining her eyes and almost had to look away. It was too raw, too painful. “It’s me, Jungkook. My name is Park Yi-Jae. We met last year on a music show and you told me on our first date that you had never seen anyone more beautiful than I in your whole life. You have made me laugh every day on KakaoTalk since and we always made time to video chat whenever we were apart. The first time I told you I loved you was on Christmas Eve when you sang that little tune for me while we were out walking late at night. I told you last week I could imagine spending the rest of my life with you. You simply cannot have forgotten all of this, Jungkook, my honey.”

For a long moment, it was quiet in the room. You watched the tears roll down Park Yi-Jae’s slightly rosy cheeks and couldn’t help but think that she was one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. Even while crying, she was prettier than you thought it fair for anyone to be.

Briefly, you thought Jungkook might have remembered something, that the almost ludicrous way of restoring his memories worked and had started just then and there - through reminding him of his love for Yi-Jae. While talking, she had leaned so close to him they could almost kiss. His brown, familiar large eyes were holding hers, silently observing, and he didn’t move away. But then, and in a tone you prior to then had only ever heard him use with you, Jungkook replied without twitching even an eyebrow.

“Don’t touch me.”

#MCAF #wrienne #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #ao3

[ikeromantic]

An Uncertain Alliance

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic- this scene occurs at the start of Ch. 11 (romantic route- picking one was hard!). Approx 3000 words of fluff and stuff. 

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Fox Hunt

Mitsuhide took a few more days in Kyoto to wrap up his business. He could have managed most with letters, but he wanted to be here for any reply from Mouri. The madman’s participation wasn’t a requirement to move forward, but his access to men and weapons would make life so much simpler. And it was an excuse to pamper his little mouse.

Not that he let her know that was his objective. To her it was just happenstance that their trip to visit an informant passed by a beautiful garden or a talented street performer. Or that the tea shop they stopped in surprisingly carried her favorite snacks. Her joy was Mitsuhide’s pleasure. He stored every memory of her delighted smiles and happy sighs. The look in her eyes when something took her breath away. 

And so he was almost disappointed the day the letter came, informing him Mouri would meet him at an upcoming festival in Kyoto. Mitsuhide didn’t want to discuss Mouri with his little one. Besides, he wasn’t sure what he could say that would do justice to the man and his reputation. So all he told her was that they’d be going to the festival together. 

It was a good location for a contact. Any city guards would be busy keeping order and no one there would likely know either of them on sight. Plus, the crowds would make it hard to get away with any violent double-cross. Still, it made him uneasy.

Meeting Mouri in a place he chose meant trusting there was no trap. And trusting Mouri was like expecting a rabid dog not to bite. Or, not to bite you anyway. 

“Are you worried about our mission,” she asked him as they walked through the crowded festival avenues. 

Mitsuhide glanced down at her and smiled. “No - not about our mission.” His little mouse looked as if she might squeak up again, so he added, “Let’s not think about it and just enjoy the festival together, hm?”

She frowned. “How can I not think about it? I mean, the sho-ah, shark-eyes, is planning our destruction as we speak!” 

“As we are planning his.” He stopped and faced her. “Right now, I am more interested in plotting a pleasant evening with you.” The half-truth stung, but he needed her to relax. To smile. To be his light. Because he knew he would do terrible, dark things still and without that balance, he would lose this sliver of peace they’d made together.

His little one blinked, surprised by the intensity of his response. “Oh. Well, that does sound nice . . .”

“Look,” Mitsuhide pointed toward a nearby food stall. “Candy sculptures.” The distraction worked as intended. Her gaze lit on the delicate confections, twisted around sticks into all kinds of shapes. 

She clapped her hands together in excitement. “They are so pretty! Can we get one?”

“We can get as many as you like,” he chuckled, letting her lead him to the stall. While she was ogling the display, he asked for two crane candies. Cranes were life-mates. Bonded from the moment they touched. He wasn’t sure she would understand the symbolism, but that was alright. 

Then they walked on, hand in hand, enjoying the sugary treat. 

“I’m glad you decided to bring me here,” she said after a moment.

“Well, it was you that reminded me humans - and kitsune - cannot go on without rest.” Mitsuhide watched her from the corner of his eye. She was finally smiling. Her small, pink tongue darted out to taste the candied crane. It made him want to kiss her. To taste the sugar on her lips, which would be far sweeter than the confection in his hand. He quite suddenly wished they were back in their room at the inn.

“Good.” She grinned over at him and bumped her hip against his leg. “So, why cranes? There were horses and dragons. Those colorful fish ones.”

A slight blush stained his cheeks as he realized she might have caught on to his choice. He cleared his throat. “Did you know that cranes mate for life?” He used the candy to ‘kiss’ her cheek. 

Her eyes went wide and her smile was soft and full of affection. She raised her candy up to give him a kiss on the lips. 

Mitsuhide took advantage of the moment to ‘kiss’ the crane back, which brought a rosy color to her cheeks too. The moment ended all too soon though. He saw the man they were here to meet approaching. Tall, and limned in red-lantern light that stained him blood-red. Motonari Mouri.

“Look,” he gestured toward the figure. “That is one of our potential allies. What lucky -”

“So this is the real reason we came to the festival. I knew it had to be more than a fun night out!” She looked up at him, eyes dancing. “You can’t fool me, kitsune.”

Mitsuhide smiled fondly. “I suppose not. But a nice evening with you is also part of the plan. This is just the part I didn’t mention earlier.”

Her gaze went back to Mouri. “Who is he? What does he do?”

“Hmm. I suppose you could call him an artisan of violence. A creatively murderous fighter. I almost shudder to think of the horrors awaiting anyone that crosses him.” Mitsuhide’s tone was playful, but he was deadly serious about Mouri. He wanted her to understand this was not a kind soul they were allying with, but a killer.

His little one nodded once, squaring her shoulders. She might have asked more, but Mouri was too close now for further conversation.

“I gotta say, Kyoto knows how to have a festival.” Motonari greeted them with his usual swagger. “Nice as it is, this place is gonna be yer funeral if I don’t like what ya got to say. Savvy?” He took in Mitsuhide with a wary glance and then looked to the chatelaine. Where his eyes lingered longer than necessary.

Mitsuhide felt his jaw twitch and did his best to restrain the reaction. 

His little one took a step back, her face going pale. This only encouraged Mouri. 

“Who’s yer little friend here, eh?” Motonari took a step closer to her, raising a hand as if he was going to touch her.

Mitsuhide stepped between them smoothly. “This is my fiancee.”

Motonari grinned wider. “You brought your little lady to parley. With me.” He laughed, a sound edged with madness. “I like a man that doesn’t respect the rules.”

The chatelaine poked her head around to look at Mouri. 

“My love, this is Motonari Mouri. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Which he was because he’d given her that lesson himself. 

“Of course.” She came out to stand beside him, putting her brave face on. “You conquered the whole south but . . . I thought you died?”

Mouri laughed again. “I gotta say, the best part o’ that introduction is the bit where yer eyes went wide with horror.” 

Mitsuhide did not appreciate the way Mouri’s gaze swept up and down his little mouse, or the rise of his brows as he tried - in his crude way - to flirt. “Yes, she is a delight isn’t she? Touch her and you’ll leave this meeting with one less hand.” A crude threat for a crude man . . . or so he rationalized.

“That so? Guess it depends on how many parts you plan ta leave behind.” Motonari threw back his head, laughing so hard he shook. 

The chatelaine interrupted with a polite cough. “If - if I may ask - how did you two meet?”

“Until recently, we were both in the service of Shogun Ashikaga Yoshiaki,” Mitsuhide replied. He didn’t want to give Mouri the opportunity to characterize their relationship, such as it was.

Motonari got control of himself in time to nod, adding. “I slipped out before Mitsuhide here. But I promised him a good bloodbath before I left.” He wiped a fleck of spittle from his lip. “So, out with it. Why’d you invite me to meet?” 

Mitsuhide watched Mouri slide his gloved hands into his jacket. He took out a pistol and spun it lazily, waiting for an answer. “Motonari, there’s no need to play coy. You know why I contacted you. You watched my little drama play out at Honnoji, from start to unsatisfying finish.” He pointedly did not look directly at the gun and kept his expression one of thin-lipped indifference.

“Mind-reader. No wonder people get so twitchy around you.” Mouri shrugged one shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “You want help killing the shogun.”

“Very much so.”

Mouri pointed the pistol at Mitsuhide. “Does it get drafty in that big empty space o’ yer head? I didn’t come here tonight to get disappointed!”

The chatelaine bit her lip and looked for a moment as if she might run. Mitsuhide could feel the way her body tensed, but she held still. 

All he did was raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What part of this disappoints?”

Motonari scoffed. “How ‘bout the whole damn thing? Tell ya what - I got one goal. Just one. And that’s ta get you and Kenshin. Shingen. Nobunaga. Hell, anyone worth a damn, into one big, bloody melee.” His lips twitched into a half smile. “If everyone’s not trying to kill each other, then it’s not much of a party!” 

He gestured at Mitsuhide with his gun. “Ya think I’m gonna waste my time with some small fry like the shogun? I should shoot you right here, right now, in place o’ asking fer an apology. In fact.” He stroked the unlit fuse.. “I think I will.” Mouri pressed the barrel against Mitsuhide’s head, digging the iron into his skin.

Mitsuhide knew his little one was contemplating some mad attempt to ‘rescue’ him and rather than reply to Motonari, he first looked at her. Waiting to see a slight nod that meant she understood she was to stay still. He had this handled. In fact, it was going better than he’d expected. Mouri was playing right into his hands.

“I see. You plan to leave the shogun free to roam, ensuring that your long dreamed of bloodbath remains only a fantasy.” Mitsuhide sighed. “I expected better from you.”

Mouri raised an eyebrow. His pistol didn’t so much as twitch.

“Surely you see it.” Mitsuhide waited a beat, then continued. “The shogun will never engage with Nobunaga - or any of his enemies - in open combat. If he did, he might lose. Instead he will seek to assassinate them, one at a time. Subtly. An accident here, a mysterious illness there. Until there are none left to take the field. No celebration. No battle. Only quiet, pathetic deaths. One enemy after another. Who knows, perhaps he would even target you.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Motonari’s defiant reply was somewhat spoiled by the nervous way he licked his lips.

Mitsuhide smiled. “Of course not. But your bloodbath will be severely lacking when there is no one there to bleed. A good party requires . . . guests - does it not?”

Mouri chuckled. “Ya got a silver tongue. But it’ll be so much viscera on the paving stones when I pull this trigger.”

“Mhmm. I imagine parts of me would travel quite far. Perhaps spattering the food stall there, or some of those festival-goers.”

“They told me you were tricky, kitsune. But no one mentioned you were mad.” Motonari closed the distance between them until he was close enough to kiss. 

Mitsuhide stared into the depths of his red glare, imitating the madman’s own body language. Gold on scarlet glinted in the light of the festival lanterns in this space of tense silence.

Then Motonari started laughing. His breath smelled of sake and tobacco. “Alright. Ya got me. I’m in, just this once.” And he lowered his pistol.

Mitsuhide watched as the madman carefully wiped down the barrel and placed it back in the holster. His hand found the chatelaine’s icy fingers. He gripped her hand tightly. She was alright and so was he. The gambit had paid off.

“The only place I’ll let Nobunaga and the rest die is in a sea of blood and gunpowder. By my hand.” Motonari sounded certain as he said this. As sure as he would be telling them the sun would rise in the east.

“Then I believe we have a deal.” Mitsuhide knew the bargain would only last so long as Mouri saw the necessity of it. And stayed entertained. Hopefully they could locate the shogun quickly and be done with this.

Motonari gave a snort that might be agreement, then gestured to the candy Mitsuhide still held. “Say, why don’t ya treat yer new ally to some o’ that fancy candy, huh?”

“You . . . want candy?” Mitsuhide couldn’t help the ways his eyebrows rose. 

“Yeah. So run along and get some fer me. The lady an’ I will wait fer ya right here.” Mouri took a step toward the chatelaine. 

Mitsuhide didn’t need to be psychic to know what ran through his little mouse’s head. It was written in her face in large, panicked script. ‘Don’t leave me alone with this maniac!’ The kitsune thought fast. “I am sure I could deliver a better token of friendship to you at a later da-”

“I ain’t asking fer a better token o’ whatever.” His voice rasped and his hand moved toward the holster of his gun again. 

That was the problem with unstable allies. They couldn’t be relied on. Even the simplest things could set them off. Any situation could become a violent one at the drop of a pin. But what bothered Mitsuhide the most was this. There was only one reason for this particular request. Mouri wanted to be alone with the chatelaine. Why?

“Yer girl will still be here when ya get back.” Motonari smiled like a shark. A hungry one.

“Go ahead, Mitsu. Get him some candy. I’ll be fine.” She gave Mitsuhide an uneasy smile.

“I’ll be right back.” It made him feel ill to say it but Mitshide knew it would be better to go along with the madman than to fight him on such a small request. And besides, if he tried anything, the chatelaine would scream. Then, Mouri would lose more than his life. So it was reasonably safe to leave them for a few minutes.

Mitsuhide glanced back at them as he hurried away. Mouri was sitting beside the chatelaine now, almost close enough for his hip to touch hers. Bile surged in his belly. No one should be so close to his little mouse. No one but him. Just hurry up, he told himself. Hurry and get back.

He found a closer stall with the same kinds of candy and picked out a fish for Motonari. Then hurried back. His little one was smiling at the madman and Mouri looked . . . confused. Jealousy burned through his veins in a wave, and he almost ran the last few steps, shoving the stick of candy between the two of them. “There. Your candy. Now get away from her.”

The last sentence was almost a growl, and Mitsuhide couldn’t help the way he reached for his little one. Pulled her close. She was his, her smile and her laugh. Her kind eyes. Mouri deserved to be close to none of it. 

Even as the jealousy burned through him, a colder, more logical part of Mitsuhide scolded him for his rash behavior. This was not like him at all. This display. What did it hurt, even if Motonari was flirting with the chatelaine? Nothing, really. Except . . . except Mitsuhide didn’t want her to be anywhere near that madman. She could get hurt. Not just physically - but her heart and her sweet spirit. He had to protect her.

Motonari seemed unaffected as he took the stick of candy and popped it in his mouth. “There’s somethin’ wrong with yer lady friend. She’s crazier’n I am,” he said around the stick.

“There is nothing wrong with her. She is perfect.” The words were out before he’d even had time to consider his response. This was . . . odd. He never spoke without thinking. Never.

“That so? Cause from here it looks like her madness is contagious. Gettin’ worse from person to person.” He chomped down on the candy, crushing the spun sugar figure between his teeth.

Mitshide’s first instinct was to slap the sweet out of his mouth and break his teeth with a well-placed elbow. But he held himself still, rigid. His heart was beating fast and he felt hot - shaky. Acting now would be . . . ill-advised.

Motonari shook his head and stood up. He addressed the chatelaine. “Better hope yer man doesn’t get tripped up by his love-addled brain. If he does,” he took the candy out of his mouth and pointed toward her with the jagged, chewed end. “I’ll fall on you.”

This threat was more than Mitsuhide could stand still for. He pushed his little one behind him and grabbed the hilt of his sword. “You will stay away from her! If you take a step closer to her - now or ever - I will remove your head from your neck.” The words were a barely audible snarl.

If Mouri was worried about this, it didn’t show. He only smiled his shark-like grin. “Where’d your disguise go, kitsune? Your real face is showing now. Barking like a fox in a trap.”

Mitsuhide tried to get control of his breath. To push the murderous rage in his chest back down. To slide his mask back into place. 

From behind him, his little one hugged his back. “There’s nothing to worry about. My Mitsuhide won’t trip up.”

Motonari shrugged. “We’ll see.” Then he was walking away, swagger firmly in place.

Mitsuhide watched him go, and when he was out of sight, finally let go of his sword hilt. He was shaking. He turned to wrap his arms around his little one. Feeling her warm body pressed tight, the steady rhythm of heartbeat and breath, calmed him. She was here and safe and his. 

“Are you alright,” she asked, her voice muffled against him.

“Yes. I . . . I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. This was only the first of several dangerous meetings they would need to undergo in this quest to see the shogun taken down. There would be more meetings with Mouri and others. He had to find a way to control this - this response of his. Otherwise Motonari was right.

Next: Future-Speak

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #Mitsuhide Akechi #ikesen motonari #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time- Ch 3

Whew! almost 3000 words later, here we are! 

After extracting herself from her grandmother’s hug, she giggled and turned to make sure her parents were ok with her leaving the counter. After getting the approving nod from her mother who moved to fill her spot, Marinette skipped around to guide her Nona upstairs. The elderly woman laughed before tugging on her granddaughter’s arm to stop the over excited teen. “before we go and talk, my Fairy, I want you to meet someone. He was just going to put the up-” the bell rang again as Gina spoke, and when the duo looked over, Marinette froze. The smile that had been floating on her face sliding off in shock as a face came into view she hadn’t seen in 11 years.

“Jason?”

The room seemed to freeze at Marinette’s question, the crack in her voice pulling her parent’s attention. The man entering the building zeroed in on her, his eyes widening as he looked to where his name had been called. “Marinette.” He breathed her name before striding towards the small girl and pulling her into a tight hug. The teen clung to him in return, shaking as she was enveloped in her older brother’s arms for the first time in years.

“Are- Are you. This isn’t.”

“No, Mari, this isn’t a dream. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” A sob crawled its way up the teen’s throat as she buried her face in her brother’s shirt. From somewhere outside of their little world, the girl could her someone calling her name. Someone was trying to get her attention. Jason poked her in the side, obviously concerned. “do you want to answer them or should I?” when she looked up at him confused, her older brother sighed before smiling down at her. “I’ll take care of it.”

When Marinette finally started to tune back into the world around her, they were upstairs. When she looked around, she realized that it wasn’t late afternoon anymore, but it was mid-evening. The lights outside the window glowed in the darkness, and a light rain falling. Shaking her head, Marinette forced herself to focus on what was going on in the small sitting room of the apartment. Jason was still next to her, and Gina was perched on the side of the chair opposite them. Her parents were sitting on the couch, looking at her in concern. “I…. what did I miss?” Her father’s laugh made the embarrassed teen look up.

“Oh, little flower.” The fondness in his voice led to Marinette looking up. He made a face at hat that she returned, before the two started to laugh. Her mother elbowed him, before smiling at her.

“Welcome back, dear. Don’t worry, there weren’t too many stories making their rounds.” The girl flushed before turning back to her brother.

“what did you- “

“Don’t worry, Mari. I didn’t tell them any of the good stories. I just filled them in. It’s not every day that a strange guy comes in and starts hugging their kid.” She scowled at him before nodding.

“ok.”

“Marinette, why didn’t you ever tell us about Jason? If we had known…” The siblings cringed.

“I… um.”

“She got caught. At the time Marinette didn’t know where I was because I was trying to get her out without the police or social workers figuring it out.” Tom froze, confusion obvious on his face.

“what do you mean, Caught?” Jason glanced at his sister, surprised.

“you didn’t tell them?” the teen shrugged.

“I didn’t think that it was important once I got here. Jason, you know what it was like. Why would I want to relive it once I was away? It…it was like a fairy tale. Well,” here the girl flushed. “Once I stopped trying to run away and board a plane. Something about that made them kinda frustrated.” Her older brother threw his head back and laughed.

“only you Mari. Only you would try to sneak on a transatlantic flight.” He studied her. “how far did you get?” the girl smiled devilishly. “they were taxiing for takeoff before they realized that there was something wrong.” He snorted before holding his hand out for a high-five.

“nice.” The Dupain-Cheng couple gaped at the duo in shock while Gina laughed.

“you- you. Why is that. She could have been hurt!” Jason raised an eyebrow at that.

“Mr. Dupain, have you ever seen Mari in action? If she was going to get hurt, she would have gotten off or taken care of the threat.”

“I-she CAN?” the girl laughed.

“Papa, you have to remember how tame Paris is compared to Gotham. I don’t have the need for many of the skills I picked up while I was a kid. Plus,” here the girl sent her brother a side eye glare. “I felt safe here. And I kept an eye on Jason. I have an ongoing hack of the GCPD.” Jason froze before whipping around to gape at her.

“YOU WHAT.” The look of shock on her face made the girl giggle.

“I figured that if you were getting into trouble I would be able to see what was going on better that way. Of course, there is that other hacker…they keep pushing me out. But its fine. Whoever Oracle is, they are always a step behind.” Jason gapped at her.

“Mari. You’re out hacking Oracle? She-Uh THEY are legendary! It’s said that she helps the Bats!” The teen sniggered at his response.

“then they need a new hacker. I’ve been out hacking them since I was 8. And if you ever meet them, you are more than welcome to tell them that. It’s a shame, really.” Jason stared at her, shocked.

“oh Mari. PLEASE don’t pick a fight with the Bats again. Or, you know, their INTERNATIONALLY FAMOUS hacker.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“wanna bet? I can win a war with them by the end of the week. And the Bats are just wimps. We’ve been over this.” Gina Dupain chose this moment to interrupt her granddaughter.

“Marinetta, what does Jason mean start a fight with Batman again?” The teen started ton invent new shades of red.

“I…may have started loudly calling Robin names and when he came to stop me I beat him in a fight. With Jason’s help, of course.” The older woman studied Jason with a knowing look that confused Marinette before she shelved the conversation for another time.

Through the din of the conversation that the five had fallen into as Jason and Marinette caught up and Gina explained how she knew Jason, cut the dinner timer. Sabine smiled and she rose to gather the plates needed for the group. As she did so, she motioned Marinette to join her. Once the two were standing over the oven as Sabine pulled out the chicken and Marinette served the rice and green beans to go with, the mother paused and looked at her daughter in worry. “Marinette, why didn’t you tell us about your brother? We could have tried to bring him over-” she was cut off by the noirette shaking her head.

“no, mama. Jason was the one to teach me to avoid CPS and the GCPD. Everything I knew? He knew and was able to do better. I was caught because I was trying to help another kid who didn’t know what they were doing and took me down with them. The only reason he got caught at all is probably because he did something incredibly stupid and daring.” The Chinese woman nodded before pulling her daughter into a hug.

“well I’m glad that we got you, even if its because of another person’s mistakes. You are the greatest blessing in your father’s and my life.” The girl ducked her head as she hugged her mother in return.

“I love you too, mama.”

At dinner, Gina regaled them with stories of her adventures with Jason. When Tom expressed his surprise at some of the things Jason had tagged along on the Gotamite laughed.

“you do know the only reason Bruce got me was because I was caught stealing the tires off the Batmobile, right?” Marinette choked, snapping to lock eyes with her mother.

“I told you he did something stupid.” The woman laughed in agreement, while Tom studied the young man in front of him.

“who did you say adopted you? A Bruce?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s resident billionaire, and the collector of lost children.” Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“This wouldn’t be the same Bruce Wayne that the entirety of the media has decided I’m either dating the son of or am the newest child of, would it?” Jason laughed.

“yup defiantly the same Bruce. To be fair, he’s been on a quiet kick with the adopting thing. We think he’s planning something. And, in my defense, the only reason I knew what was going on was Tim can into my apartment simmering in anger that the press was stalking him again.” He paused, “oh and I went to pick up one of the tabloids so that I could immortalize his shame and was met with your face.” Here he turned to Marinette. “if they hadn’t run that story, I may never have seen you again.” The watery smile that he was met with made him smile.

“let go back to the Batmobile for a moment. What were you going to do, just leave a note after taking the tires? Write a quick thanks and leave?” Sabine’s humor quickly lightened the atmosphere as everyone laughed.

“no, actually. I was going to leave a red chrysanthemum.” Jason’s response made Marinette break into giggles.

“you were going to leave my sign? Jason!” the rest of the table looked around, clearly lost. Taking pity on them, Marinette went on to explain. “the red chrysanthemum is my favorite flower. Its also one that we were able to get ahold of easily in Gotham. Jason always called me his Chrysanthemum because it means hope. He called my Chrys when we were with other kids so that I was harder to track. He literally called me his hope for years. Its also why,” here she looked her grandmother dead in the eye, “they are the symbol for my brand.” The older woman tossed her head back in a laugh.

“only you, Marinetta. Only you.

After dinner and Gina and Jason had reluctantly left for the night, the Dupain-Cheng family sat and talked together a while more before separating to move towards bed. Afterall, they did have a bakery to open in the morning. When Marinette was sure that her parents were asleep, she opened her chaise. There, buried under piles of blankets and spare fabric and next to one of her specialized embroidery machines that had been packed away to save space, was a black rectangular box with a red chrysanthemum carved into it. Breathing a sigh of relief, the teen pulled out the box and settled her hand on top of it, letting her magic seep into the wood. A moment later, the box was expanding, opening, and giving her access to the box of the Miraculous of the Chinese Zodiac. Plagg zipped to join her as she studied the jewels in front of her before settling her hand on the Bee Miraculous that she had been puzzling over for weeks. The Kwamii looked at her before he finally sighed. “kid you know what you need to do. As much as we don’t like it, the girl is a good match for Pollen. Plus, you and the Bug need a rest. Without the Bee you know that the rest of your team won’t fall into place.” She smiled at the Kwamii before looking down again.

“I know Plagg, but…what if she says no? Lady Tyche and I can only do so much, and I don’t want to open our group to someone who is going to pull an Alya. I spent months training her with Tyche before we even let her come to an attack, and she still had the audacity to believe Lila. I don’t want to bring someone else into the fold and have them flake.” The miniature cat god nodded at his chosen as she drifted for a moment, thinking about days gone by. “ok Plagg, Let’s Make Mischief!” as her transformation fell over her, Apate stretched, preparing to wander into the night. Her luminous blue eyes, catlike and glowing in the night, narrowed as she made the jump, her black boots landing on the balcony. The black suit resembled a black track jacket, with the bottom half resembling close cropped cargo pants. Her boots, while silent, had a heel, giving the petit girl a very well needed few inches. Her black hair, while long and free flowing in daily life, was now held back in a French braid. The gauntlets on her forearms glinted silver in the moonlight, and the bracers on her shins reflected the light from the streets below. Apate’s hands flexed, the reinforced gloves flashing as her claws extended. A small smile crawled over the Vigilante’s face as she scanned the ridgeline of the building across from her before she detached her baton and let herself fly away from the small bakery.

When she landed at the Tower, the cat-like Vigilante settled herself on one of the beams looking out over the night. Her eyes focused on a figure in the distance and followed it as it made it’s way closer. When the figure landed next to her, Apate grinned up at Lady Tyche. The Blonde smiled down at her more violent companion. Her braided ponytail shifted in the wind, and the dark mask made the smaller girl roll her eyes. After almost four years, the two were pretty good at reading each other. As Lady Tyche settled next to Apate, the red hero smiled. Her garnet suit shifted in the moonlight. The black reinforced areas along her shins and arms seeming to disappear into the night to the naked eye. The older miraculous wielder had been apprehensive to let Apate redesign her suit from the bight red that had black spots everywhere. Apparently, it was a Tikki staple. When Apate had shown Tyche the simple garnet suit with the black shading on her sides, and the reinforcement on her arms, the hero had changed her tune. That had been three years ago, and since then the girls had grown closer. They had realized somewhere down the line that they must be in the same grade because they had chosen names that mirrored the Greek goddesses they had been learning about. When Apate had found out the box was based off the Chinese zodiac, she had laughed to herself. By then, it had been too late to change her name to honor the origin of the box.

That evening, the two had gotten together to once again debate the idea of adding a certain Bee to their ranks. This had been a topic for almost a year and the duo were apprehensive at the thought of adding an unknown this far into their battle.

“What did Tikki say?” When Apate broke their silence, Tyche sent her a small smile. They both knew that Apate was the more anxious of the duo. There was a reason she worked better in the shadows. The idea of adding the Bee, well it was keeping her up at night.

“She was all for it. After she heard what Wayzz had said, she agreed with him. adding another holder and setting up our team is the right move.” The girls exchanged looks. Apate took a deep breath before nodding.

“Plagg and I have been talking. With our final year in Lycée ending in eight months, he agreed that we need to try ad wrap this up.” Tyche snorted.

“I don’t know about you, but I am ready to leave Paris. If I can leave for University, it would be amazing.” Apate nodded in agreement.

“does that mean we should go visit Chloé?” Tyche hesitated.

“Actually, I was thinking. I know that we have been careful, for years now, but we both know that we’re getting closer to our identities. Would, would it be ok if we-” understanding settled on Apate’s face. She thought for a moment before nodding.

“well, there isn’t a Guardian to tell us no anymore. Plus, it might be good for us.” Both girls laughed as they stood. “how about this. I have to go get the Bee anyways, so come with me, and we can do the reveal nearby. That way we can be sure its in a secluded place.” Tyche nodded as she readied her yoyo.

“which way, Kit-Cat?” Apate laughed and jumped off the tower, letting herself start the trek back to the quaint Bakery that currently was housing miniature gods.

OK! so, Apate is the greek goddess of Decit, Tyche is the greek goddess of luck. i wanted unique names. thats all. 

moving on, i’m not sure if anyone had noticed or not, but i think i’m allergic to ahving Adrien as Chat Noir. i’m debating adding him in as another Miraculous but we will see. i can’t really think of one i like for him.

yes! chrystantamums are going to play a big part in this. im goign to lear a little bit of this up too. Marinette was adoopted by the Dupain-Chengs when she was about 5. she is Jason’s half sister. she is incredably bright and i have a thing for crazy smart Mari so she skipped 2 grades and is a year away from university. she does not know Jason died yet. the time where Mari was kinda out of it, i’m useing as a plot device so that i can skip stuff. basically, Jason explains that Mari is is his little half sister and that they were out on the streets all of her early life before CPS picked her up. they share a father, not a mother. Jason is crazy protective of her.

anywhoooooo have a goodone yall, and ill see you soon wiht another chapter, probably. 

tag list- @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan 

#a moment in time fic #maribat #timari #sibling!jasonette #ml x dc #mlb #miraculous ladybug #My writing #oops again #this was a lot #and a brain dump #i sorry

[x0401x]

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: Ghost Hotel’s Café (Part 2)

Revealing the secrets of the menu, such as “crushing muffins so they will look like earth”! Interview with the staff of Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun GHOST HOTEL’S CAFÉ.

GHOST HOTEL’S CAFÉ, the collaboration café of “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” – an on-going manga from Monthly G Fantasy (Square-Enix) by Aida Iro-sensei –, was held in Ikebukuro, Tokyo at AniPara CAFÉ for a limited period from December 5 to February 11. Here, we have carried out an interview with the staff behind the planning and production of “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun”. We have discussed things in detail, from the background of the collaboration café’s presentation to the public to the secret stories behind the development of the food and drinks that reflect ideas from the author, Aida Iro-sensei!

Interviewees

Square-Enix café organizer: Ookubo Kana-san

Square-Enix editor in charge of “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun”: Imanishi Chiharu-san

Grounding Lab café planner: Andou Minako-san

Grounding Lab café planner: Nakayama Natsuko-san

Andmowa café menu creator: Aizawa Kanto-san

AniPara CAFÉ manager and menu creator: Shirato Kouhei-san

The collaboration café of “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” is entirely supervised by AidaIro-sensei!

——How was it decided that “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” would have a collaboration café?

Ookubo: The cue was that, while the café planning members were talking about what café to hold next, we were introduced to “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” as the most highly recommended title of our company.

Andou: There are a lot of young people in the staff of AniPara CAFÉ and most of them knew “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun”, so by the time SquaEni-san talked to us about it, we gave them the one-sentence reply of, “By all means!” and asked them to let us do it. *laughs*

——This is the third time that “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” earns a collaboration café, so how were the fans’ reactions?

Imanishi: Since this is the third time, there were many reactions of concern about the very concept of “how will it turn out next?”. Thankfully, the responses were good and we received many warm messages such as “it was fun”!

——How was AidaIro-sensei’s reaction when it was decided that yet another collaboration café would be held?

Imanishi: They were very pleased. An event that the readers can enjoy is a rare opportunity, so they were hyped about many things, such as, “I wonder what we will do~!” and, “How about this?” (laughs).

——The theme of the collaboration café is a “ghost hotel” this time. How was it conceived?

Ookubo: This time’s theme was proposed by AidaIro-sensei.

Imanishi: In the first time, I think it is orthodox that the characters are made into café waiters, but since this is the third one, Sensei suggested that they felt like displaying them in yet another a different light, and that they wanted to make it so that both the people who would be attending for the first time and the people who had already attended before would be able to enjoy it in a brand-new way.

G Fantasy carries out a project of giving away color spreads as presents every year along with the commemorative issue of its launching, and the theme for the color spread of “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” on the 25th anniversary was “ghost hotel”. There was also the fact that the readers’ response to it was very positive, so Aida Iro-sensei decided, “Let’s go with a ghost hotel this time!”.

When it comes to “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun”, you cannot miss out on ●●●!

——Did you get any menu or decoration suggestions from Sensei?

Ookubo: They granted us the base ideas of the menu and supervised the whole thing. They also chose the names of all the menu items. Writing “holy” in English was one of Sensei’s ideas. *laughs*

——The shop’s interior has a wonderful decoration perfectly fitting of a “ghost hotel”, with spider webs and mini characters hiding everywhere.

Andou: When we were thinking about how to reproduce the worldview depicted by AidaIro-sensei, we thought it was perfect... so we left it there (laughs)!

Ookubo: That spider web is amazing, isn’t it? The first time I looked at it, I thought it was a perfect fit for the café’s mood!

——The BGM that plays inside the shop is also a perfect fit for a “ghost hotel”.

Ookubo: We choose after listening to lots of tracks, so hearing that makes me happy! This time, Sensei gave us proper suggestions regarding the worldview, so the interior design parts were easy to picture.

Imanishi: There is a fun to it that is similar to riding on a horror attraction, even if you are inside a café. I think we were able to create this atmosphere exactly because its worldview is solid.

Ookubo: Also, since this is “Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun”, we would like everyone to check the toilets, by all means! I want people to see at least this with their own eyes.

——The toilet is a checkpoint that people cannot skip. The illustrations for the café were made by AidaIro-sensei this time too, but do the numbers written on the keys of each character have a meaning?

Imanishi: In this thematic setting, the employees (the characters) live and work in the ghost hotel. The numbers on the keys are the numbers of the rooms where the employees live, and they increase like 1, 2, 3... when you see them lined up in order, you will know who is whose neighbor and which of them are in the floors below or above. This is linked to the nature of the characters’ relationships, so please give it a check.

——Sensei did not just write the story but also story cards.

Imanishi: There might be people amongst the readers of G Fantasy who know about the 25th anniversary illustration, but I believe most of them will be seeing it for the first time. Since it could be difficult to understand what the story of this ghost hotel is and what the characters are doing, so we introduce them in the story cards and in-store PV. This method is easy even on people visiting for the first time, so we would like them to come hang out with friends here (laughs).

Aizawa: Quite a lot of the people who come to the shop are young, and on Sundays, it is not rare for families to fill up the seats. Amongst them, we have received a call from a father who had never been to a collaboration café before, telling us, “I want to make a reservation for my daughter; how do I do it?” and we have also been asked, “My daughter wants your goods; are they still not sold-out?”.

Andou: We have also been told, “I’ll save up my allowance to go there!”. Hearing things like these makes me think that it is great that we managed to implement a wonderful café, and I want people to enjoy it by any means.

“We crush the muffins to make them look like earth.” “The pot-au-feu is always chamfered.” – The secret stories behind the cooking of the collaboration menu are revealed!

——You have quite a quirky menu, with things such as the “GHOST HOTEL’S CAFÉ Afternoon Tea”, which comes with a written invitation to the Ghost Hotel; Hanako-kun’s favorite food, the “Hanako-kun Floaty Doughnuts”; the shinny “Mokke’s Delightful Candy Cake”, which is modeled after candies, Mokke’s stable food.

Andou: “Mokke’s Delightful Candy Cake” is quite a painstaking piece of work...! Of course, it is delicious, but I think being able to have fun taking pictures of cute food is a point that everyone looks forward to in a collaboration café, so we prepared a menu that everybody would be able to enjoy from their eyes too. When we were planning it out, we had about thirty suggestions for the menu in total, and from there, the team narrowed them down through discussions until the menu took the form it has now.

Nakayama: When it comes to Mokke, I think the image that comes to mind is of candies, do after a bit of devising, I came up with a cake that looks like candy. I am happy that, thankfully, the fans also had positive reactions to it!

——The “Edible Plots of Nene from the Gardening Club” shows quite a bit of uniqueness. Having a dessert inside a vase had a lot of impact.

Ookubo: The “Edible Plots of Nene from the Gardening Club” consists of muffins in flower vases, and the sight of the vases lined up in rows in the kitchen is quite surreal (laughs).

Shiratsuchi: We crushed chocolate muffins for them to look like earth and made them dirt-like. As a cook, I am also conflicted as to whether it tastes good to eat it like that, so while obsessing over the reproduction of its appearance, I break muffins into pieces every day, in order to combine them with a definite deliciousness.

——(Laughs) “Nene’s R•A•D•I•S•H Pot-au-Feu” is a warm and comforting dish, perfectly fitting for this time of the year.

Imanishi: This is actually the menu item that requires the most work out of the other collaboration foods.

Ookubo: The radish used in “Nene’s R•A•D•I•S•H Pot-au-Feu” is not a ready-made one that we warm up, and instead we cook the radish in the shop every day. On top of that, since the ingredients do not absorb the taste when cooked in the normal way, we chamfer (thinly scraping a vegetable so that it will take a round shape) the radishes one by one, so this is a menu item that takes up a lot of time. It costs 880¥, so when people ask, “Is this the quality of a collaboration café?”, I think it is in the good sense (laughs).

——My! The people who visit the shop should totally try this out, then.

Aizawa: We want them to! This desire is quite strong in us, but since it is a hassle to prepare that menu item, it would be a problem if too many people ordered it (laughs).

Shiratsuchi: While I was happy that everyone said, “It’s delicious~” during the sample food meeting, this item made me think, “I might’ve created something terrible (in a laborious sense)” (laughs).

All: (Laugh).

Ookubo: The cooking team really created the collaboration menu with a lot of passion. We make the crust for the “Clock-Keeper’s Tart ~with fruits~”, which is from the latter half of the menu, by hand every day in the shop. We fill it up with layers of berries, chocolate cream and wiped cream one after another... It gives us so much work that it could make people think, “Are you really serving this at a collaboration café?!”. I believe that even people who have only ever been to regular cafés and never to a collaboration one can also enjoy it.

Imanishi: The menu for the latter half of the collaboration has quirky and cute items, such as the “Mad-Risky Soup”, as in a “pretty dangerous” soup, and a limited number of the “Pipe Dream Cake”, so I think anyone can enjoy it, be it the people who visited during the first half or the people who are visiting for the first time during the latter half.

By the way, AidaIro-sensei’s top recommendation was “Kou’s Specialty Omelet Rice”! This rice omelet has caponata (boiling of fried eggplant) inside, so the flavor is unlike that of any other collaboration café. The fact that these secret gems exist is part of the wonderful levels of consideration from the cooks’ side.

——All the foods looked delicious, and every drink was wonderful too, so I was indecisive about which ones to order.

Ookubo: “Nene’s Welcome Cocktail” is also in the story that AidaIro-sensei posted on Twitter before the café’s opening. I recommend it as the first drink to the people who are visiting the collaboration café for the first time.

——By the way, are there any menu items that were rejected?

Nakayama: There was a legendary menu item named “Hanitarou Sandwich”, right?

Imanishi: There was! There is a character named Akane-kun who uses a haniwa as a protection charm, and I suggested a meal based on him – a “haniwa” coppe bread.

During the planning stages, I thought it was possible and tried reproducing it, but the cost turned out pretty high and its appearance was a haniwa through and through (laughs), so I wondered if anyone would order that... There was also the fact that Akane-kun is not much of a “haniwa stan”, so it became a legendary menu item (laughs).

Andou: I had suggested “Hanako-kun’s Doughnut” with the image of a school cap at first, but then the talk turned into, “Rather than a hat, I want it to have the appearance of a cute and tasty-looking doughnut”, so the cap version was rejected.

Ookubo: I also tried to produce a book-shaped cake, with the image of Tsuchigomori-sensei’s Four O’clock Library, but it seemed the price value would be too expensive, so it was unfortunately rejected.

——So there were menu items that were cast aside as “legendary” ones! This means you have created quite a number of items, but how do you come up with those ideas?

Nakayama: We were already collecting information from Instagram and Twitter and analyzing what the costumers were after. We deepened the conceptions from there to plan out the menu a lot.

Andou: Also, we think first-thing about what will be suitable for the costumers’ age range. In these occasions, rather than thinking about it as the menu of a collaboration café, we tried coming up with tasty-looking stuff as a regular food and drinks menu, and from that point, we created many things that drew close to the characters.

——It seems you were very conscious of the “showiness” of several menu items this time, so is “showiness” an indispensable element for your needs?

Andou: That’s right. Of course, the menu has to be delicious, but I think that, if it also turns out good for taking pictures, it will be posted on Instagram and Twitter, and become a cue for the fans to interact. The people who know the series will obviously do that, but I would be happy if this menu could become a trigger for even the people who don’t know it to talk about it, like, “That’s wonderful”, “What series is this?”.

Ookubo: We believe that the collaboration café’s menu is important for the original work’s side as well, so we take many requests, such as, “I want you to make this kind of dish” and, “I want to put this illustration card on it”, and the side that plans out the cooking does their best to give them form, so a wonderful menu is birthed every time, and as a result, it turns out as something that the fans can enjoy.

——It seems the people who will visit the store are quite young, so have you devised anything for the flavors?

Aizawa: We added a bit more variety to the taste of “Nene and Mokke’s Broccoli Gratin XD” during the planning stages, but we reviewed it in order to make it match the palate of young people better.

Ookubo: The “Mokke Curry”, which appears in the latter half of the event, was a green curry at first, but we changed it into a normal curry so that it would match the young ones’ tastes.

——On the topic of creating menu items that suit the customers’ age group, were there any difficulties or things you obsessed over?

Aizawa: The biggest hardship in making the menu of a collaboration café is the items’ appearance. Even if we deepen their image, we often worry about how to bring out their colors.

We repeatedly have conflicts such as, “I have to use this ingredient for bringing out this color, but this ingredient doesn’t fit this menu. Then how do I reproduce this coloration?” so it’s a relief when we eat the finished products and calm down with a, “It’s surprisingly good now that I’ve given it a try!” (laugh). Also, when we are feeling confident, the ideas soon flash into mind, but when we are in a slump, we get distressed.

Shiratsuchi: There was also a difference of views between the cooks’ side and the original creators’ side, so there were times when we thought, “We’ve made something really good!”, the original creators would say, “This won’t do!” (laughs). In regards to the menu, it is purely an insight race, so it made us happy when good flashes of inspiration took form and received approval.

——Anything from this menu that gave you an especially hard time?

Aizawa: As expected, that would be “Nene’s R•A•D•I•S•H Pot-au-Feu”, which we talked about earlier (laughs).

——Lastly, please leave a message for the readers.

Imanishi: New menu items will be added in the latter half, so I believe it has turned out as a café that people can enjoy no matter how many times they come. We want them to eat, drink and have fun. Also, the coasters that they can earn by ordering foods and drinks have wonderful designs, so I hope people will take them as a memory, by all means. I think you will definitely enjoy it, so please come over!

Aizawa: There are many attractive menu items, so do not forget your cameras!

——Thank you very much!

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #hanakodaily #jshk #tbhk #hanako #hanako kun #yugi amane #yashiro nene #minamoto kou #minamoto teru #mitsuba sousuke #tsuchigomori #yugi tsukasa #akane aoi #aoi akane #nanamine sakura #hyuuga natsuhiko #aidairo #interview #pash #my translation

[linskywords]

criminal-minds-fanfiction wrote a bunch of questions for authors that you’re supposed to let people ask you, buuuut I felt like answering all of them instead of doing my actual job this afternoon. 😄 Here we go:

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction?

Like 25 maybe? I started writing about a year after I started reading it. I had a fanfiction-deprived adolescence, y’all.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

The hockey boys pulled me in years ago and they haven’t let me go. I do sometimes write other things: I almost always participate in Yuletide, and I’ve actually written a bunch of Animorphs fic under a different name (ask me if you want to see it!). Mostly hockey RPF, though.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

Haha neither. Well, I guess OC’s, if I had to choose -- I don’t read or write reader inserts. But I tend to keep OC’s for original fiction.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?

I was very confused about fic having genres before I realized this was probably referring to the genre of the canon works. Um...sports. :D

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why?

Don’t make me choose my favorite child. Um, probably the first wolfverse story -- I don’t know if it’s the best one, but I’m very grateful to it for starting the ‘verse!

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

None of them, if that’s an option. If I really had to choose...probably the Kirk/Spock fic I never finished even after uploading it to AO3 and promising to finish it this time. I still want to finish it!! But it would be the first to go.

7) When is your preferred time to write?

I don’t have a strong preference. Afternoon/evening. I like having multi-hour blocks, and I use the Forest app to keep me off my phone while I do it.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Plot bunnies come from all over the place: random thoughts, memes, real-life conversations, suggestions from other fandom people. I tend to have a pretty strong “THIS IS A STORY I WANT TO WRITE” response when something grabs me the right way.

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?

Haha this is probably why I’m not supposed to just answer all of these in order. XD I’ll answer for my current WIP: the scene where Geno kisses Sid for the first time. So soft. So angsty. 😈 (My own story has cursed me to love Geno. I am doomed.)

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind?

In general: I know how my stories are going to end when they start. Sometimes it does evolve a bit as I write. One thing I’d like to play with is including more of the main characters being together at the end of the story, instead of ending it at the moment when they get together; the latter makes sense from a tension perspective, but I’ve been finding when I read lately that I want more of the happy times at the end, so I’m going to try to move in that direction.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Only for typos, I think.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Ooooh. Either Patrick Kane or Jonathan Toews. There’s something so compelling to me about Patrick’s fanon voice. And every love interest in every original story I try to write is Jonny.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

I...don’t really write about characters I don’t like? I wish Auston Matthews would shave his mustache.

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories.

About fifty percent of the titles I come up with are desperate scrambles because I’ve got nothing. The other fifty percent I have a perfect song lyric for from the start.

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?

I only write OC’s in original fiction, but: I’ve been phonebanking lately, and I’ve been writing down all the good names I come across. The best so far is someone with the last name Quackenboss.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx?

MAGIC.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

Oh...oh no. Um.

“It doesn’t matter what he was thinking about. His knot popped; that’s the important thing.”

Some of you can probably guess what that’s about. :)

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Mostly on my computer. I have a lot of beginnings of stories I haven’t finished yet; many of them I’ll probably go back to. I tend not to post things until I’m done or close to done with them. (That one Star Trek fic being an exception. Mea culpa.)

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

YES. The 1988 timer one and the 1988 story where Patrick’s a girl who sneaks onto the Blackhawks in disguise. I’d love to do a Bennguin version of both of those.

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

Hm. Some of them I think I rushed a little. More Than I Could Ever Promise, I think it needs a good old-fashioned battle scene in the mountains at the end to really round out the plot.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

Have I mentioned astolat? What, only two or three hundred times? I should mention her again, then. Give me that woman’s ability to plot. Inject it into my veins.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Haha. I often have slightly cringy moments in my old stories. You Made My Life an Adventure, I definitely didn’t really know what I was doing yet...

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

I usually listen to music.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Turned on.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Yes. The sequel to My Heart Forgets to Beat.

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write?

The Sid/Geno wolfverse story I’m working on now is maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever written. The language barrier is such a new challenge for me.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I don’t formally outline, but I tend to have a sense of the major plot beats. One reason I love writing fic is that the plot and world tend to be straightforward enough for that. I have a lot more trouble doing that with original fiction.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

This will radically reduce the amount of time I spend writing original fiction.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

Like You Have a Secret I think is less read than some of the others because it’s het, but I really love it. Similarly, some of my stories that are inspired by other works (Tangled, Doctor Who, The Giver) tend to be read less because people think they need to know the source material, when really I deviate from the source material so much it’s not important.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Huh. Probably not. I’m definitely surprised when some stories take off -- Kinda Narrows It Down I wrote pretty quickly, on a whim, and I was surprised by the extent to which it resonated with people. Turns out lots of people think Tyler was coming out in that tweet. XD

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer)

Ooh. Ignoring the terms of this question, but: I just read this TK/Patty story and loooved it. It’s a different take on werewolves than the one I use in wolfverse, and it’s super compelling:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029188

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Hahahahahaha. (I mean...less so than you might think.)

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

I absolutely love it when people write screaming flaily responses to my fic. Also anytime anyone says that they’ve been having a tough time and my story was exactly what they needed. Maybe my favorite was the responses to More Than I Could Ever Promise that told me it read like a novel; that meant a lot to me right then.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

Fandom is amazing; people almost never give me concrit. I did have someone ask once if I randomly chose when to stop writing and just ended my stories there. I was pretty offended, since of course that’s not true at all, but I can see where they were coming from: my stories tend to wrap up after the characters get together, and sometimes there’s a lot of potential story left to tell at that point. But stories have to end sometime.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

I tend to share them! I find other people’s enthusiasm to be strongly motivating, and sometimes people have awesome suggestions I wouldn’t have thought of.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

Well, I only have the one. XD Sid...is about to have an important conversation with Mario.

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?

Ooh, I’m not sure I’m the write person to answer! No idea, really. My recent TK/Patty is probably pretty funny. Or maybe Quality Time, where Patrick doesn’t understand why he keeps losing track of time when he’s cuddling with Jonny. Anything with a super dumb protagonist, probably.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

Wow, I have no idea. I’ve never really written a story with someone, so I’m not sure how that would work. I want to say astolat again but honestly I’d be too intimidated.

...no, I’m gonna say astolat. Even if I made a fool of myself I think I would learn a ton.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?

Third. For some original stuff I like first person, but third feels right for the hockey boys.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

My close friends do. Most of my friends have the vague idea I write fic, but they don’t know my username or anything.

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written?

Patrick Sharp. No question.

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx.

I will legit listen to a new album with a doc open to write down promising lyrics. Titles are HARD, y’all.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?

I think people guessed where the Tangled fic was going. Though I also liked the guesses that it would be about Patrick’s mullet. XD I don’t really mind when people guess twists -- in the kind of story I write, it’s more about the experience of reading it than about surprise!

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“His parents have always been very respectful of any choices Sid’s wanted to make. They haven’t pried into his private life when he’s tried to set boundaries. But they’re wolves, and they know him a lot better than Jordy does. Sid isn’t going to be able to keep it a secret from them what he’s going through.”

...no guarantee it survives in that form. :D

45) What spurs you on during the writing process?

Getting the story out of my head and into reality! Spoon out that lake, baby.

I also do love the prospect of posting it for people to enjoy and respond to. It’s one of the reasons I find fic so much more rewarding than original fiction, where the timeline to a readership is so much longer.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?

Things, probably.

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about?

This exercise might be going off the rails a bit. (If anyone does want to pose this to me, feel free!)

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?

Ooh. Mutual pining. Friends to lovers. Werewolves. :D

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

The first fic I ever, ever read was a random Kirk/Spock one I found through google, and I was like “OMG IS THIS WHAT AROUSAL FEELS LIKE”

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Oh man. Angst, as long as it can have a happy ending. But it just wouldn’t be the same without the smut.

#this was fun #i guess i should go back to work now #fic #fandom #ao3 #tropes #hockey rpf #writing #patrick kane #jonathan toews #sidney crosby #geno malkin #tyler seguin #probably some other people

[goldleafacrossyourlips]

Uneasy Lies the Head - CAOS - Dark Lord/OC - Chapter 10

Chapters - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

A/N - Hey! Thank you so much to those that have reviewed and written to me. It really means a lot! I’ve finished writing and editing all chapters. Expect updates to happen a bit more frequently. Enjoy!

Chapter 10 - Violets and Yarrow

Samara slowly descended down the stairs, her hand trailing along the railing. Her brows were furrowed in frustration. She had just finished scrying with any of her clients that might have provided any answers. All of them were useless. Or rather clueless. She didn’t give intimate details but the basis of it was that none knew about the prophecy, let alone the Dark Lord wanting a Queen.

As she entered the kitchen once again, the sight of her family in disarray made her pause. Sabrina was the only one sitting, tear stained cheeks now dry. Her Aunties and Ambrose surrounded the table.

“Well I say. Not today, Satan.” Sabrina spat, causing Samara’s frown to deepen. She continued forward and stood beside Ambrose.

“What’d I miss?” She asked as everyone turned to look at her. Sabrina heaved a deep sigh.

“Basically my mother and father struck a deal with the Dark Lord to have me. Turns out my dad isn’t really my dad. The Dark Lord is. And he wants me to open the Gates of Hell this evening. Oh! And Nick fulfilled a favor from the Dark Lord by making sure I’m in this exact position.” Sabrina gave a very abridged version of what was going on. Samara felt her jaw drop. Before she could respond, Ms. Wardwell, who was actually Lilith, entered the room. Their attention quickly shifted to her. She glanced at them all before settling on Samara.

“Samara Spellman. The Dark Lord requests your presence. If you’ll come with me.” She gestured towards the door. Samara cast a look towards her family. They all wore nervous expressions. She turned towards the woman and began to follow her out of the house. She felt Phlox beginning to follow but sent a pulse of magick his way, letting him know to stay in the house. She felt his irritation with her but he did as she requested. 

As they exited the house, Lilith grabbed her wrist and then they were teleporting. They landed in a sitting room of sorts. Samara didn’t even stumble as they landed, surprisingly. They took a seat in the plush armchairs in the corner of the room. They remained silent. Neither one knew the other and therefore had nothing to converse. Samara knew this woman wouldn’t give her answers. The only one who could was behind those doors.

“He’s ready for you.” A young man announced as he opened the doors. Lilith rose to her feet and escorted Samara into the room. They shared a final glance before Samara approached the railing before her. 

She looked down into the room. An obscene amount of food laid sprawled across a large dining table in the center of the room. Only two chairs sat at the table, one of which was occupied. Samara felt like the air was being stolen from her lungs as she looked down at the figure. Her grip on the railing in front of her tightened as she took him in. The back of his chair was to the roaring fireplace so the lighting wasn’t the best. Her magick was going nuts! It was zipping through her body like a tornado. All reacting to the man sat down there. Her body shivered as he spoke.

“Welcome, Samara.” His voice was like silk and so very familiar. Her brows furrowed as her mind began to whirl. With a flick of his fingers the vacant seat to his right moved back in invitation. She set her head high and began descending the stairs to her left. As she reached the bottom one, his features were finally in view enough that she could trace them with her eyes; which widened in response. This was the man she had met in the clearing in her dream! Although this time he wore a velvet red shirt, she saw in disappointment. She was a little pleased that the shirt still exposed most of his upper chest though. Without her eyes leaving his figure, she sat primly in the seat he had moved. Before she could settle, his fingers twitched and she was being tucked into the table.

“We’ve met before.” Her voice was soft and she saw as his nose flared and his eyes drank her in. They continued to flit over her face and whatever wasn’t covered by the table. She shivered slightly from the intensity.

“We have.” He answered succinctly, his head bowing slightly, his gaze still unwavering. Samara’s eyes darted over all she could see of him, her hands balling tightly in her lap. Her magick had been buzzing louder and louder the closer she was to him. 

“In a dream. Right after I was dying.” At her uttering of her almost death, his face twitched and his gaze hardened. He leaned towards her as he spoke.

“Believe me, my darling. You were in no danger of death. Nor will you ever be if I have any say in it.” His voice was low and certain. She tilted her head in interest. Since when was the Dark Lord so involved in the life or death of one of His subjects?

“You must know I have questions.” At her statement, his eyes glittered in amusement and he leaned back in his chair.

“Thus why I’ve had this feast spread before us. Eat, I will answer whatever puzzles you.” He gestured towards the frankly ridiculous amount of food on the table. Finally Samara broke their mutual stare and glanced around her. Before she could start picking through the closest items onto her plate, the Dark Lord had snapped his fingers and her favorites were filling it. Happily, she noticed as dark wine filled her cup. She delicately held the glass in her hand and sipped from it, the light, floral liquid swirling in her mouth. She hummed with content at the flavour, her eyes slipping shut. Wine was always her alcohol of choice. 

“Seems a bit excessive for just the two of us. Are you expecting more company?” Samara asked lightly, the rim of her glass raised to her lips once again. His brow quirked at her question, his fingers drumming on his arm rest.

“Are you not deserving of such splendor?” 

“I don’t know. Am I?” She countered, nibbling on a piece of bread. She heard him huff a soft laugh.

“My future Queen is deserving of anything She desires. Forgive me if my initial want is to provide the best for you.” He snarked, the corner of his lip twisting in a smirk. Samara’s eyes narrowed, and she tipped her glass towards him as she gestured.

“Then your future Queen wants the truth. I know you can answer all of my questions but I want them all answered with honesty. If you can’t extend even that courtesy then expect to remain alone until you can.” He grinned at her boldness. She knew not many, if any, spoke to him like she had. They were all too fearful. She supposed she should, but Samara was over being afraid. Her hunger for answers was too powerful.

“As you wish.” He bowed his head slightly. Samara felt her brows raise. That was much easier than she had expected.

“Okay….Right, then. I suppose the most obvious is, why? Why would you pick me to be Your Queen? I have no experience and very little desire to Rule.” Her hands, now free of objects, fiddled with her sleeves. She heard him hum as he considered his answer.

“I Chose You. There’s little more explanation than that I’m afraid.” His response caused her brows to furrow and nose to wrinkle. She cast a sharp look up at him.

“That’s an awful explanation. What does that even mean?! You Chose me? What? Why? I don’t come from money, or-or a place of standing! My mother was a potion-abuser and came from little recognition herself. She was a hateful woman and died alone, no one to mourn her death besides me! My father--I don’t even know who he is. But I’m sure if he came from a family of high standing they would have at least said something! I’m a nobody! I’m nothing.” Her speech began loud and firm but towards the end her voice softened, eyes beginning to glisten. 

“As far as I know, I’m an orphan with a chosen family that likes to cause more trouble than anything. I run a little Apothecary and own a cottage in Colorado. My best friend is my familiar. I have absolutely nothing to offer you. So please, tell me. Why me?” Her voice quivered as she spoke. Her eyes downcast, watching her fingers as they played with her sleeves. 

She felt a breeze tickle along the back of her neck that caused her to glance up. The Dark Lord now stood at her side, a hand extended towards her. His eyes were blazing like Hellfire housed inside. Tentatively she placed her left hand into his right. His large hand comfortingly engulfed her tiny one. Her magick that had been frantically buzzing throughout her froze. He tugged her out of her seat and stood close. Her head was tilted back far as she stared into his eyes. She felt the air displace behind her, and with a quick look the table, chairs and food were now missing. The middle of the room was now empty. Faintly she heard footsteps and doors closing as the room was vacated besides the two of them. 

He led her to the center of the room, his silence causing her chest to tighten and her throat to clog. As he stopped, he raised his other hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. As he pulled away, something remained, and out of the corner of her eye Samara could see a violet flower. Her breath came to her a bit easier after that.

“You are not, nor have you ever been nothing. I Chose You, not because of your birth or heritage. Your mother and father were nothing, that you can be certain.” He began, her left hand he had in his grasp, he settled on his right arm. He firmly settled his right hand on her waist, clasped her right hand in his left and tugged her closer. Then he started to sway to a tune only he could hear. Samara, none the wiser, easily followed his lead.

“I felt it when you were conceived. All my years of living and I had never felt such a thing. I could never explain it but I knew that whoever it was, was meant to be mine.” At his last word, he pulled her even closer, his swaying now turning into steps as he led them to dance she instinctively knew. “I found your mother easily. She often struck deals with me. Her fear of living made it fun to toy with her. I knew she would never be a fit mother. So as you still laid in her womb, I gifted you. They reside with you still. My future Consort had to stand out from the rest afterall.” 

“My Shadows.” She breathed, enraptured as he weaved his tale. She didn’t notice how she’d never misstepped during their dance, her movements easily matching his.

“Precisely. I knew I couldn’t interfere with you. That you had to grow on your own without My influence. So I gave you a gift that could protect you even when I wasn’t there. And they did. Your mother died a coward’s death. Your father too. He died after selling out his Community to witch-hunters. He was nothing more than an ingredient collector for a well known Apothecary. They both reside within my realm, suffering as is their right.” He affirmed, his blue eyes sparkling as he twirled them around the room. Samara’s eyes never leaving his.

“I watched as you grew with the Spellman’s. I watched as you blossomed into a beautiful, powerful young woman. Then Blackwood caused your confidence to crumble. He will be dealt with, my darling, rest assured. I watched as you collapsed into yourself and then you ran. I wanted nothing more than to have you at my side, to show you that here, nothing can touch you. I won’t let it.” His left hand released her right, which she placed on his chest. He used his free hand to trail a finger across her cheekbone, to cradle it in his large palm. Her eyes slipped closed as he did so, their steps still swirling around the floor.

“I knew, as mortal as it is to say, that you were made to complete Me. And I You. Don’t you feel it? Something in you has awoken. It has filled a part of you that you never knew even existed. It is why your magic reacts so strongly to Me and My presence. And Mine to Yours.” His voice had taken on a slight pleading quality. Her eyes snapped open to peer into his.

“I knew I had to have you as my Queen. So I gifted you. Your Shadows. The powers that you’ve had since the defeat of those angels. Everything I have done for you. So that you can thrive by my side and Rule. I wanted this Earth to tremble before you, every being upon it Our subjects. I still do. My only question is do you?” At his question Samara worried her lip between her teeth. His thumb slipped down to gently tug it from its prison. 

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about Ruling or being a Queen.” She confessed, her eyes darting back and forth between his own. Her hand on his chest softly rubbed at the material beneath it.

“I will show you. You have no clue how much you already know. How you place strangers beneath you and will over them. Yes, you will need work in standing against your family’s ire but worry not. You will be at My side and I at Yours. Anything you desire I will have at your feet. You need only ask. Say yes.” He spoke softly, his voice earnest, the hand on her waist slipping around behind her, to settle on her back. His breath ghosting over her lips. She gathered her confidence before she responded.

“I will say yes to being Your Queen. However, I will not Rule. Not yet. There’s still so much I don’t know. But I can’t deny how right it feels to be here, with You.” Her answer momentarily threatened to cause a frown to form on his face, but after a second a grin grew. He halted their dance, the fire light highlighting the genuine joy he held on his face. Samara was sure her expression looked the same. 

“Then please allow me to do this.” He breathed and leaned closer, pulling her flush against his tall body. Samara’s hands gripped at his arm and twisted in his shirt.

Finally his lips brushed against hers. Once, twice, three times. At the third time he hummed contentedly. His arm wrapped around her waist keeping her flush against him, his hand cradling her jaw slipped to the side of her neck and tilted her back even more. She gasped as he nipped her bottom lip. He was quick to invade, his tongue exploring hers. A soft moan built in her throat as he continued, taking what he wanted. As oxygen began to become a problem for her, he pulled away slightly. His lips now trailing from the corner of hers, across her cheek, her jaw and down her neck. Soft little kisses that had flames licking up her back and settling in her belly. Her gasps and heavy breaths echoed around the room as she stared up at the ceiling. Her hand left his chest to climb up and tangle her fingers in his silky hair. As she tightened her grip, a groan escaped him. A smile built upon her swollen lips as she began to tug his hair lightly. That smile was quickly wiped away, a pout in its place when he began pulling away. 

A chuckle left him as his pupil-blown eyes devoured her. His gaze kept darting towards her lips. Her hand had slipped from his hair as he stood to his full height and she slid it down his neck to again rest it against his chest. Her fingers splayed against his thudding heart and stroking the exposed skin there. He huffed a breath before darting down and enveloping her lips with his twice more, in stealing little presses.

“Just as addicting as I feared. How will I ever manage to get anything done with you around, my little flower?” His voice was raspy as he spoke. Samara felt the flames flickering inside her fan up at it. She quirked her lips at his question though.

“You? You’ve had who knows how many millenia to practice. What about me? How will I learn anything from you, when you’re so You!” Her exclamation held laughter in it. She watched enraptured as he craned his head back and laughed deeply. His eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked back down at her again.

“We’ll learn together then.” He stroked his thumb along her jaw causing her to hum. She blinked up at him, her hand coming up to rest around his wrist.

“I still have questions.” She felt him heave a deep breath, the mirth leaving his eyes, leaving content in its place.

“I still have answers. But after. You must go and prepare. Tonight will be Our glorious ascension. Your coronation will have all the aristocracy of Hell. Then we will dance the Mephisto Waltz for all to see. After is when I’ll answer anything you might have.” He grasped the hand, gripping his and brought it up to where he pressed soft lips against her knuckles. Eventually he stepped back, releasing her from his grip besides the hand he continued to hold. She squeezed his hand before stepping back herself. 

“In the meantime, while you prepare, Sabrina will be opening the Gates of Hell for me. Then she too will join you in preparing for the Coronation. There she will be announced Our Sword.” He explained, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. Samara hummed once again. His gaze softened as he looked her over again. 

“I will be seeing you this evening, my darling. Safe travels.” 

“See you.” She whispered before closing her eyes and teleporting to her room at the Spellmans. One of the biggest benefits to her new powers was the ease of teleporting. Now she no longer felt like she was squished and ripping apart. Now she just appeared where she wanted.

She walked forward and fell into the bed, her face buried in her pillows. She felt Phlox stalk up the bed to curl against her hip and laze there. She lifted her head out of the pillow and rested her cheek against it. She kept her eyes closed and just immersed herself in what she was feeling. 

Lucifer was right when he said something in her had been awoken. Not just her powers but perhaps it was that very same night it had happened. She could feel where she was full now, when before she didn’t even realize there was something missing! Either way, since her meeting with him, her magick had never felt so calm, so settled. 

She still had an undercurrent of worry. However now it was much less. At his reassurances she had calmed. Instinctually she knew he’d never let her fail in a catastrophic way. She also knew that everything he’d uttered during their meeting had been true. The Father of Lies hadn’t lied to her, not even once. 

So, deep inside in a part that was only for her and him, she began to wonder. Wonder what it’d be like to be His Queen. What life they’d lead. She knew he’d treat her well. She also knew, somewhere deep down, that she had the power to hurt him if he didn’t treat her well. Still, she continued to wonder about him and her and the future. Their future. Sure, she still had questions pertaining to that future and how Sabrina came to play the role that she was, but Samara rested easy in the knowledge that he’d give her the answers she wanted after that night.

She glanced at the clock on the wall beside her and decided she could stand to nap for a couple hours before starting to get ready for her Coronation. And really, how odd was that to think of. She shook her mind clear of the thought and settled into the bed, Phlox’ head resting on her lower back. She hummed as her eyes slipped closed. Unconsciously her brows furrowed as she felt a spark of rage ping through her chest before it was banished from her mind and she slipped into a gentle sleep.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #original female character #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #lucifer morningstar x ofc #satan x oc #satan x reader #satan x ofc #sabrina #spellman #fanfic #fanfiction #ambrose #Hilda #zelda

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 9

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

“Hey.”

His touch and voice tore Astrid from her thoughts and her mind blanked for a second. Up close, she could see the many freckles on his face and the strands of hair that stood in every direction. When she caught his eyes properly, she steeled herself.

“Hi.”

He started balancing back and forth on his heels, casually putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans, dropping the two packed sandwiches he’d just held. “I thought I saw you at the park yesterday.” He ducked down to pick up his food, coming up with a red face.

“Oh, right. I was…” – running away from you – “in a hurry.”

She watched as he absentmindedly grabbed something from a shelf next to him and ran his fingers over the print. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered it was women’s shaving cream.

“Yeah, me, um, me too. I mean–“ He put the item back and ran his hand over his neck and the gesture was so familiar, she wondered how she’d come to learn to associate it with him during the handful of times they met. “I was there with my friend, and… Oh my god, you met him, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what he said to you, he just doesn’t hear how stupid and obnoxious he sounds most of the time, and he doesn’t mean to, at least not usually, and I’m sure he didn’t want to sound like a creep or anything, and I really hope he wasn’t being terrible, because he can actually be nice, and I’m rambling, do you want me to stop talking, I can stop talking, I can – I’ll just stop talking.”

Maybe it was the awkwardness, the hands flying roller coasters through the air, and the genuine concern about annoying her, or maybe it was her lack of sleep from last night, but she couldn’t stop the amused grin from blooming on her face.

“It’s okay, I don’t even remember what he said.” She reached out and gently socked him on the arm. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

He exhaled in relief and properly smiled at her for the first time. It was that lopsided smile and the kind gleam in his eyes that still kept haunting her in her dreams and fantasies that she just couldn’t seem to ban from her mind, no matter how hard she tried. But she had to make peace with that. She’d had to accept that one of her favorite shows had ended in an, in her opinion, not so perfect way, and she couldn’t do anything about that as well. (If she turned a blind eye, the comparison might even work.)

“It’s been what, one and a half years? How- how’s everything? How’s um… How’s Eret?”

„Good. It’s… We’re good. He’s on a work trip.” Why was she so nervous? Maybe it was the effect of those green eyes and that smile that made her fidgety and stumble over her words.

He was about to respond when she held up her hand in an emergency decision. “Look, I have to go.” Didn’t need to make up a reason, right? “But maybe we can talk later?” She fished her phone from her pocket and created a new contact before handing it to him. “I don’t have much to do this upcoming week and since my best friend is on vacation in Europe, having a friend around would be nice.”

For a moment, he stared at the device a bit dumbfounded, then his fingers tapped a series of digits and he handed it back. “All your friends are on vacation in Europe?”

“No, just that one. But everyone else is kind of busy.” Did that sound like some kind of excuse? She hoped not.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ve got work, but not all day, so…” Before he could start rambling again, he stopped himself by pressing his lips together and nodding a few times.

Giving herself something to do that didn’t include looking at his soul-searching eyes, she fumbled with her phone, opening up a new chat and typing in a simple “hi” and a friendly emoji. “Check your phone.” Looking up again, she gave him one last smile, then she grabbed the next best item from the next best shelf and brushed past him on her way to the door.

“Um, don’t you want to pay?” he called after her. Right, crap. The cashier looked up from his magazine at Hiccup’s words and watched her warily with narrowed eyes. Wordlessly, she hurried over and fumbled a bill out of her wallet on autopilot, taking the change and stuffing it in the pocket of her pants. Then she left with a quick wave over her shoulder. Hiccup was still standing there, holding his sandwiches in one hand and the other frozen mid-air in a waving gesture.

Only when she was back at the house did she realize she’d bought shaving cream with a raspberry and cheesecake smell. With a groan, she tossed it into her duffle back. She hated that artificially sweet stuff. She’d have to go back to the store to get what she’d actually come for tomorrow. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into anyone else that she knew.

After several hours had passed and her phone hadn’t chimed once, she huffed and turned it off. Her heart shouldn’t be beating so fast every time she checked it for new messages. She wasn’t a teenager waiting for her crush to text her, although the sentiment didn’t seem too far off, her age aside. But she would rather punch herself in the face than admit it was true. If anything, she was waiting for a friend to contact her. Nothing more.

It was the only truth that she’d ever allowed herself to believe. At times, it sounded almost like a mantra she kept repeating, in yet another sleepless night after she woke from the same old dream. She knew that Eret could tell something was off with her, trying to concentrate on throwing these thoughts and feelings out of her mind and unintentionally growing distant while fighting her inner battle of guilt and stubborn loyalty to her principles. Whenever Eret realized he couldn’t get through to her during these phases, he grew distant himself, and it usually ended in either a big fight or a steamy reconciliation.

She guessed it had only been a matter of time until they’d end up where they were now. But she didn’t want to remind herself of last week, instead nudging her thoughts in a more flowery direction. Like to last winter when she went to Austria, high into the Alpines, feeling like she was in a whole other world. Almost touching the sky, her steps painting shapes into the white wonderland, the air frosty and revitalizing.

Then she came home, back to Eret, back to the life she chose, back to the routine that would slowly make her restless again. Make her feel like there was more to her life than Eret, although she quickly made herself brush that thought aside. For the most time, everything was fine and she was glad she married him. It was what she’d always wanted – a secure life with someone she loved and who she knew loved her, a life she was comfortable and familiar with.

But after a while, that restless feeling would return, and she booked her next ticket. Sometimes, her husband would accompany her on her adventures and they were twenty again, their relationship new and exciting. Other times, however, she went alone, glad to get away from it all. It was like a never-ending cycle of comfortable domesticity and the longing for more.

For some reason, sitting on her parents’ couch, waiting for a text from a guy she shouldn’t be so excited about texting, felt like another adventure, like that something more she was always desperate to reach. It shouldn’t.

She could feel herself drifting off into dangerous territory again, fields upon fields of what-ifs, throwing her about like a churning ocean as soon as she dared to step onto the soil. The only other pressing matter on her mind was no good alternative to mull over, though. It just made the ball of nerves in her stomach tighten until she couldn’t sit still anymore, so she jumped off the couch and went for another run. Maybe, if she drove herself to exhaustion, her mind would become pleasantly blank.

The exercise helped. Soon enough, she could hear her blood pumping through her veins, could feel every short breath in her lungs, every muscle in her body. Her feet were pounding onto the asphalt and dirt paths that lead her all around the neighborhood, until she reached the house again, panting and refreshed despite the sweat running down her skin. She felt right again, like everything was how it was supposed to be.

Only after she took a long shower and dragged dinner with her parents out into the late hours of the day, she turned her phone on again. It chimed, several new messages popping up. None from Eret. A few from Ruffnut, asking for a video chat. One from her assistant trainer, telling her that the Berserkers, their rival swim club from the next town over, had opened up a spot for Berk’s junior team to train in their swimming hall, the small one reserved for the swim club only. It was good news, very good at that. Not only could she finally go swimming again, but her team had the chance to train again as well, to get ready for their next meet with the Berserkers and Bog Burglars.

Taking a deep breath, Astrid put her phone away and rolled onto the other side of the bed, burying her nose in the pillow with the small smile on her lips wavering. No further messages.

_______________

The berries in Hiccup’s sundae were swimming in a sea of melted ice cream, splotches of whipped cream giving the sad picture a moldy flair. Around him, the sound of chatter and spoons clinking against glass provided his ears with white noise; not even the voices of his friends discussing some trivial matter reached his ears.

His eyes were glued to the little text box on the bottom of his phone screen, his fingers hovering above the letters of the virtual keyboard. The screen went dark from inactivity and his reflection stared back at him, adorned by greasy fingerprints in the shape of his unlock pattern.

“Hiccup, you still with us?” The sound of his name finally pulled him out of his thoughts. When he looked up, three pairs of eyes were looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?”

“You kind of spaced out there for a while.” Fishlegs pointed at the phone in his hands, trying to get a look at the screen but giving up when he saw it was dark.

“Oh. Sorry. I was just… Never mind.” He laid his phone next to his sundae and started stirring the warm, sugary soup with the long spoon, frowning at the viscous consistency. Just when he had brought himself to eat a spoonful of ice cream soup, his phone chimed and he dropped the spoon as if it were burning hot. It fell back into the sundae, splashing purple-pinkish soup on his shirt.

His shoulders sagged when he saw it was a text from his dad, replying to his last message with a simple thumbs up. With a sigh, he went back to stirring his soup, ignoring the curious looks of his friends.

“Did something happen?” Fishlegs asked, concern lining his voice. “Are you waiting for an important call?”

Hiccup shrugged in the most casual way he could. “Nah. It’s just the old question of who’s going to text first, me or her.”

His friend’s face lit up in understanding, then went back to a slight frown. “I thought you quit online dating.”

“I did.”

Leaning forward, Heather pushed her empty sundae cup away from her and placed her elbows on the small table. “Enlighten us. We want details.”

Hiccup sighed. “It’s not like that. She’s… a friend.” Heather didn’t look convinced in the slightest, her eyes boring into him like an aggressive x-ray. He quickly turned to the man sitting next to her. “So, Cam. How was London?”

Cam, a young man with blonde hair that went down to his shoulders, scratched his beard as he put on a reminiscent smile. “Not as rainy as we thought.”

“As you thought,” Heather interrupted him and set her eyes back on Hiccup. “And you stop changing the topic!”

But Hiccup kept his attention stubbornly on Cam. “Heather mentioned you guys saw Romeo and Juliet at the theater?”

With a wary glance at Heather who was still not done with the subject, Cam nodded. “The interpretation was a little unusual, with a lot of slang and modern topics. Not quite the classic Shakespeare experience, but it was a really funny performance.” He grinned. “During an intermission, there was this group of teens who asked me if I was related to Kurt Cobain.”

“What did you tell them?” Fishlegs asked.

“I wanted to spin some story, but then someone,” he threw a pointed glance at Heather, “butted in and had lots of fun talking about how I just needed a haircut.”

“You’re welcome,” Heather said in a sugar-sweet voice, prompting a discussion over Cam’s hair that Hiccup didn’t bother listening to. He was too pre-occupied with trying to find a nice way to draft a text message in his head. What was he supposed to say to her? Did she even want him to text her? Maybe she’d given him a fake number so he’d leave her alone. Despite the warm weather, he suddenly felt cold.

“Earth to Hiccup, you’re doing it again.” Apparently, Hiccup’s crisis over texting a girl was more interesting than Cam’s Kurt Cobain hair. Such a pity.

Once again, the attention of the whole group was on him, and he knew that especially Heather wouldn’t give up until he told her what his problem was. He shoved his phone back in his pocket where it would hopefully stop haunting him, at least for the moment, and rolled his eyes. “Like I said, she’s a friend and we’re not dating.”

“Yet,” Cam commented but Hiccup pointedly ignored him.

“Then why are you so nervous about texting her?” Fishlegs asked.

Hiccup scratched his neck. “It’s complicated.”

“Why?”

One look at his friends and their attentive expressions and he realized he wasn’t going to get out of this so easily. He fiddled with the paper napkin under the sundae cup, ripping off a piece and rolling it to a ball between two fingers. “Because,” he mumbled, so quiet the others had to lean in to understand him, “she’s in a relationship and we have something like history, mostly on my part.”

“Oh,” said Cam.

“History?” it came from Fishlegs.

“What kind of relationship?” asked Heather, her eyes narrowed, the answer already in the back of her mind, poking at the surface behind a suspicious expression.

Hiccup sighed. The only person who hadn’t been there when the whole Astrid fiasco had started was Cam, and he didn’t feel like explaining the entire thing to him. So he just threw Fishlegs and Heather a meaningful look and clarified, “I mean that she’s married.”

“Oh,” said Cam again, none the wiser.

“Oh,” said Fishlegs, knowingly, and with a pitying frown.

Heather rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Still?!”

About nine months ago, Heather had called him one night, and the next morning they’d gone out for breakfast and talked for hours. About them, their relationship, the past, the future. He had told her the whole Astrid story and she had listened. She had apologized for being so harsh to him, but she’d been hurting, and Hiccup knew that. She also told him about her recent breakup and it had felt like something heavy had been lifted off his chest when they’d talked it out and realized that after all this time, they were still friends. It was that day that Hiccup noticed the guy shyly looking at her from a few desks over every once in a while, his long blonde hair falling into his face.

“Yes, still, unfortunately. I can’t exactly turn that off, you know.”

“Stop sassing me, Hiccup, and tell us what happened.”

“Less than you think,�� he said and recounted his two encounters with her over the past two days.

“Just that we’re clear,” Fishlegs started when he was done, “we are talking about Astrid Hofferson, right?”

“Yes,” Hiccup and Heather confirmed in unison.

“Who?” asked Cam.

“The reason Hiccup and I broke up.”

“Hey!” Hiccup exclaimed. “You know that’s not all true.”

“Weeeeell…” it came from Fishlegs in a high-pitched voice, prompting Hiccup to roll his eyes.

“She wasn’t the whole reason, just the catalyst.” He nodded in Heather’s direction. “And you know that.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, it’s in the past,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Fact is, you can’t keep waiting for a girl who’s as unavailable to you as her. She’s married, Hiccup. She made her choice. Move on.”

“But what if she likes him too?” Fishlegs threw in.

“Then she’s still married. And it wouldn’t be Hiccup’s problem, it would be hers.”

“It would still concern him,” Cam countered. “And isn’t it his problem already?”

“Well, yes,” Heather said, “but it wouldn’t be his choice to make, is what I mean.”

Hiccup wiped a hand over his face. “Then what do I do?”

Heather shrugged. “Easy. If you still feel like you need to, you text her a universal ‘hey, how are you’ and then you move on with someone else. My brother’s been seeing this guy for fun recently, no strings attached, and it helped him move on from his previous relationship. Maybe that’s something you could try, just hook up for sex, without any hopes or expectations going in, and maybe you’ll find someone you really like.”

“You brother is gay?” Fishlegs asked, slight surprise coating his voice. “I didn’t know that.”

“Took him a while to figure it out, but yeah, very gay.”

“Honestly,” Hiccup murmured, “that doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

“Right?” Heather chuckled. “So, what do you think? Have meaningless sex and find some love?”

Hiccup’s smile disappeared. “I tried to date other people, Heather. It never worked out. I just can’t forget her.”

“That’s why I said go in without expectations, because you’ll immediately start comparing the poor girl to someone you can never have.”

“First of all, how is me going in without trying to fall in love with someone going to help me forget Astrid? Second, I’m not the guy for casual hookups. I want something real, and no matter on how many dates I go, no matter how much effort I put into moving on, I can’t find that with anyone else because all I can think of is her.”

Especially now, with the invisible weight of her phone number in his pocket. He flopped back into his chair, suddenly exhausted. He’d lain awake for hours last night, contemplating whether it was actually a good idea or not to text her, the tips of his fingers tingling from simply reading her name in his contacts and the simple ‘hi’ she’d texted him to give him her number. Which she’d done on purpose, which in return had to mean something, didn’t it? And she had basically asked him to be her friend…

Cam let out a low whistle. “Sounds like you have it bad, man.”

“I collectively only spent about six hours with her, and I fell in love with her.”

Heather huffed. “Oh, please. In love? What’s her favorite color?”

“Blue,” he answered quick like a shot. “But she also likes soft gold tones.”

“Did she tell you that or are you just guessing?”

Suddenly taken aback, Hiccup racked his brain for the memory and came up short. “I don’t…” He couldn’t remember her ever sharing this particular piece of information with him, and yet he was so sure that he knew. How?

“Look, there’s no logical explanation for why I feel this way. But it… It’s like…” Gesticulating, he searched for the right words. “It’s like I’m the land of the dinosaurs and she’s the meteor that crashed and changed everything. Like I’m a ghost town and she’s the magic that strikes like lightning and creates new life.”

Cam was picturing his words, Fishlegs nodded the way he did when reading and trying to understand poetry, and Heather just raised an eyebrow at the analogies.

“And now… Now I have the chance to truly get to know her, even if all I can ever get from her is friendship.”

Heather considered this for a moment. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you.” He nodded with a grave smile. “But you don’t even know her.”

“Maybe if he gets to know her,” Fishlegs pondered, “he’ll realize that she’s not that great.”

“Maybe,” Heather mused. “And then you’ll get over your infatuation.”

“You’re always so supportive.”

“Hey, I’m just looking out my friend because I don’t like to see him hurting.”

“The same goes for me,” Fishlegs added. “If you think it will make you happier to text her than to cut her from your life completely, I think you should just do it.”

Cam fished his phone out of his jacket, pulled up a video and wordlessly held it in Hiccup’s direction. “JUST DO IT!” Shia LaBeouf screamed at him. Heather pinched the bridge of her nose in fond exasperation.

Fishlegs gave him two encouraging thumbs up. “Just text her hi.”

Hiccup looked between his three friends, ignoring Shia who was still screaming at him, and willed the ball of nerves in his stomach to go away. It was just a text, a simple electronic message that he probably attributed more meaning to than it actually held. He could still back out. Could resolve to hearing about Astrid and her life from Heather who’d know from Dagur who’d know from Eret…

But the prospect of a life completely devoid of her felt worse to him than just being her friend with the additional pain of never being able to be with her the way he wanted to, although that would go with the first option as well. So maybe getting to know her was the only way to go from here, since being without her hadn’t been of any help so far. And maybe, even though he doubted it with all he had, he would get over her as soon as he knew her better.

He took out his phone and weighed it in his hand for a minute, like weighing out his options, until Heather snatched it from him. “I still don’t like the thought of you getting hurt through this more than the other way, but…” She held the device directly in front of his face. “Just goddamn text her so you can get to know her and stop putting her on a pedestal.”

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked his phone, pulled up his chats, selected hers, and before he could overthink it, he typed in a simple ‘hello’ and a smiley face and hit send. Only a few seconds passed until he started wondering if perhaps he should have send more, like an explanation why he waited a day to text her, or his name because she’d already deleted his number, and that reminded him that this might not even be her real number and he was already spiraling.

“Did you do it?” He glanced up at Fishlegs who was once more trying to get a peek of his phone screen. Hiccup decidedly turned it off and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Yes.” He pointed at the warm ice cream soup before him. “And now I need another one of these.”

It was late when he turned his phone back on, the nerves in his stomach tangled like his father’s knitting yarn after his cat had declared it its mortal enemy that had to be defeated in a life or death encounter.

The breath in his lungs turned to stone when his notifications appeared. A couple new mails, ads from applications he never deleted, and a handful of new texts he skimmed with lightning speed. Group chats, colleagues, Snotlout, Cam with a Nirvana gif and the same old Shia video, and– the frown on his face turned into a wide smile. One new text from Astrid.

#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #fishlegs ingerman #heather #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fanfic #how to train your dragon

[c-atm]

Fighting Flirty: Birthday Boss Rush

Chapter 1: Hanging with the Maheswarans

The sound of the warp pad reverberated throughout the area as a stream of crystal blue hit the pad and vanished as fast as it came, leaving the now 22 year old Steven ‘Mister’ Universe, dressed in his usual summer outfit of a black cotton short sleeve button up, pink bubble vest, blue jeans, and black and pink sneakers. He took a step off, hands in his pocket as he headed towards his destination. It didn’t take long for him to reach it, as he came to a large fountain with a statue of Rose Quartz, his mother;  in the very middle. He sat on the edge of the fountain, kicking off his socks and shoes and dipping his feet in the water. He turned towards the tear streak visage of the woman who gave him birth, with an even smirk.

“Hey Mom.” It was so much easier to call her that these days, no longer feeling the strain of living up to her legend or cleaning her mistakes. “Hope you don’t mind me stopping to check up on you unannounced, just figured I should while I have a bit of time.” He grinned, not getting an answer, not that he was expecting one. “It’s my birthday, I’m officially twenty- two today and man, let me tell you about it so far.”

*earlier that day*

Steven just finished getting dressed, looking himself in the mirror before nodding in approval. He looked at the time read 11:30AM, Connie already left to run her errands and her shift at R&D,a half hour ago. Sighing, he went downstairs to the living room of his and Connie’s home to see a crystallized orb and a pink note beside it that simply read ‘Mister💝’. He picked it up with a curious smile, the smell of her chai and lily perfume caressed his senses as he opened the note up.

To my dearest Mister

I’m sorry that I can’t be there with you right now to celebrate your Birthday

But unfortunately ,things are happening at R&D that I need to be there for.

So with that in mind, I figured a way we could have fun together.

A birthday quest.

The orb, it holds part of your gift, but you need a voice activated code to open it.

I left pieces of the code with people I trust to keep a secret. My champions so to speak.

You’re tasked to get their part of the code by winning their challenges, whatever that might be.

As to who I chose, well follow your nose, Mister. You already have the scent of the code.

I hope you enjoy your birthday game and I'll see you later.

 💘🍓

P.S. :Your first clue

'L'.

"A hunt, huh?" Steven thought as he looked at the orb. It shined in the sunlight and was small enough to fit in his pocket. " Well, I've never been one to turn down a wholesome and fun time."  Pocketing the crystal in his vest, and the note in his pants pocket, not before giving it another sniff, a relaxed smile on his as Connie’s mischievous grin came to mind; gathering his keys from the bowl near the door, he set off, determined to win Connie’s game.

Steven gave a diamond enhanced sniff every few seconds as he walked around Little Homeworld, quite sure that a few of her ‘Champions’ were gems. It didn’t take him long to get a slight waft of the perfume, multiple actually. All moving around except for a couple.One being Startries and the other being at Funland for some reason he felt the champ at Funland was more menacing than the one at Startries, he made his choice and headed to Startries.

He was surprised to see that the champions weren’t inside but sitting at one of the outside tables. He would have doubted the authenticity of the situation, but the scent was definitely coming from their table. Steven couldn’t believe she got them in on it. He pulled up a chair grinning. “Priyanka, Doug.”

"Good afternoon, Steven."

"How are you doing on this fine day, My boy."

The Maheswarans greeted the birthday star, with warm voices and sly grins.

"Can't complain."The hybrid answered as he looked at the streets of Little Homeworld, seeing humans and gems interact with each other so easily, satisfaction on his face. He turned to the two as he leaned back on his chair "Seem like it's another peaceful summer day."

"That it does." Priyanka agreed.

"So Steven, how does it feel to be twenty-two years old?" Doug inquired.

"Hmm." Steven sat back in thought. "No different from yesterday." He scratched  the back of his head, kind of surprised at his answer. He used to feel so much excitement for this day when he was younger. Now after everything he has done..after everything he's currently doing with his life. It almost feels like another day. “Guess it comes with being older. Feel like another day on the calendar.”

“Oh wow…Didn’t expect that from you.” Priyanka responded, honestly. “I assumed you had a party planned.”

Steven let loose a shy chuckle. “That would be my normal MO, but I even forgot my birthday was coming up to a few days ago.” 

“Been that busy for you, lately?”  Doug asked. 

 Steven nodded with a smirk. “It’s not bad though. ” 

Priyanka looked at him closely, narrowing her eyes at the boy she considered a son. “Hmm..” She leaned back in her chair “Well doesn’t look like you’re overworking yourself..”

“What?” Steven waved his hands in front of him “ No no. not at all! I’m definitely making time to relax.” He reassured “Even today, my plans for the day were just to make rounds around Beach city and Little Homeworld. Check up on everyone." He folded his hands on the table. "That is until, Connie enhanced it."

"Enhanced it. That's a nice way to put it." Doug joked

"I'm still making my rounds, she just made them a bit more fun. Guess she wanted to make sure I'm enjoying my birthday to the fullest" His cheeks turned a bit pink "Just like her to play such a prank."

Doug and Priyanka glanced at each other privately, sharing secret smirks at the loving tone in his voice.

"That being said..." gave them the grin from before."...What game two got for me?

Priyanka sighed as gently folded her arms. "Really, we are having such a good conversation as well."

Doug chuckled. "You can't blame him, he is on a mission for our Kahanni. We gotta play our roles as 'Champions'."

"You’re really getting a kick out of this, Durga." She playfully chastised as Doug nodded.

"So what's my challenge?"  

The Maheswarans looked at the eager Steven before glancing at each other and back at him.

"Have you ever heard of the game 'Plead the fifth'?"

They chuckled lowly and mischievously as  Steven's eyes widened,his lips pursed together in a thin line and his nostrils flared.

"Oh..You've played before." Priyanka stated, matter of factly, her grin growing a bit more.

"You guys gonna grill me?"

"It's just five questions, Son. You can survive five questions without pleading the fifth,right?" Doug teasingly taunted.

"Five invasive questions."

"I promise not to get too invasive Steven." Priyanka swore, though her grin said differently.

"I'm afraid of that 'too'." Steven admitted with a sigh. " But I trust you. " He gave them a strained smirk. "I'm ready. Ask away."

"What is it that you want for your birthday?"

Priyanka turned to her husband a bit embarrassed at his crassness. "Really Doug."

"Hey, can't blame me for taking the opportunity." The security officer shrugged. "Besides, he could plead the fifth...He'll lose his right to our piece of the code..buuut.." He smirked as he left his statement hanging.

"It's ok." Steven laughed. "I did the same thing to Connie when we played once...Though that was about...Something else." He paused a  bit of a longing look on his face, before shaking his head. " But yeah my birthday, have no idea. Like I said, I had to be reminded of it by Connie." Steven looked up towards the sky and took a moment to ponder the question. "Though I've been trying to get back into my tube tube, maybe something towards that."

Priyanka glanced at her husband to stop him from giving them away, he was already in position to punch the sky in celebration.

" Who knows maybe you will." Priyanka said with a fox grin. "Now that Doug asked his ONE question-"

"I'm satisfied with my question, thank you very much." The man Interjected giving his wife a kiss on her temple, getting an eye roll and a hand squeeze. 

"It is my go, ready?"

"No. and that counts."

Priyanka's mouth was agape at his cunning, but soon nodded a bit impressed. "Fine. three questions… One. What did you ask Connie, when you two played this game?"

Steven smirked." I asked her many things. How long her hair was, who’s her favorite fictional character. A lot of things."

"You said you asked her something similar to Doug's question towards you. What was it?"

"What kind of ring she wants to be proposed with."

Priyanka eyes widen at the confidence  in his voice.  There was no blush, no shaking, no bashfulness. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Yup and that's question number five." He breathed out before grinning, doing a small little jig "I win..I win."

"You let him have that." Doug stated in a whisper in her eear.Giving her temple a kiss.

"It is his birthday, after all." The Maheswaran mother said weakly, trying to save a little face. She turned to the twenty-two years old and clapped her hands in flux applause. "Congratulations on your win."

"Yeah!....OK, I'll stop now." He chuckled as he tapped the tabletop.

"So ready for your code, your spoils of victory." Doug dramatically flared as he crossed his arms.

"Yes sir" Steven sat up straight puffing out his chest.

"You are both silly." Priyanka sighed as she shook her head, a half smile on her face. She signaled Doug to go inside the bakery to get his prize.  He did, stating he'd be right back, leaving the two alone.

"She worries." Priyanka  stated as Steven lay his head down.

Steven sighed. "I thought that was my job…"

"It's a 'THING'...mutual thing. You want the person in your life to be happy. " Priyanka answered expecting him to refuse the status. She was surprised when he seemed to nod in agreement.

"True enough...and I am happy. Happier than I've ever been in a while…" He turned his head towards Priyanka. "Your daughter gave me a quest for my birthday and it is already my favorite." 

Priyanka nodded before squeezing his shoulder giving him a motherly smile. "She would love to hear that…"

Before he could answer the fragrance of her perfume ignited his senses. He was surprised to see a box, wrapped in rose pink paper with a red bow land in front of him. 

Wrapped in the bow was a pink paper, the same one the note was written on. He took the paper breathing in the scent, before unrolling the paper.  "ove"

"Love.." He admired. "Certainly smells like it." He chuckled, putting the note with the other one.  He turned to the box and was caught off guard at the expecting looks of the Maheswarans. 

"Happy birthday, Steven." They both announced with matching smiles.  

Steven tittered in surprise as he undid the bow and tore open the wrapping paper. 

"Guys, you..Aw man." In front of him was a whole recording setup for a home studio. "I don't know what to say…" He gave them both a tight hug. "Thank you so much

for this."

"It's no problem." Doug assured. 

"We're happy to do it, Steven."  

Steven released them turning back to the box for the moment. "Aww man. I just want to set this up and start recording and streaming… I want to but, still gotta a way ahead of me."

"Don't let us stop you." Priyanka assured "We'll drop it off at your home later" Doug added. 

"You sure? I mean, I don't  want to take you out of your way." The hybrid commented, feeling a bit guilty.

" I'm not taking no for an answer. Trust us, ok?"  Priyanka told him as she took the box in her hands. "Now go. You gotta quest to finish" She commanded him in motherly tone.

"Better do what she says.." Doug joked. "You don't want her to get the abacus."

Steven took a look at Doug before turning to Priyanka who arched an eyebrow, challenging  him to defy her. "Pssh.. Mean." He pouted before getting up.

"Get going young man."  she snickered as he rose.

"Yes mom." He droned in play before smirking."You guys wouldn't know the code..Would you?"  His eyes lingered to the set up. " Just wondering."

"No. She didn’t say...And you'll be able to play with this when you're done." Priyanka reprimanded. " I swear Boys and their toys, no matter the age." 

"You better get going Steven," Doug added with jest. " She might really get the abacus."

"OK, I'm as good as gone." Steven announced as he began to  walk away, only to turn in give them one more hug. "Love you guys."  With that he was gone heading toward his next destination, Funland.

As the two watched  they found themselves  wrapped in another hug which they returned.  " Was you watching this whole time,Connie."

Connie Maheswaran  gave her mother a father a kiss on their cheek, before nodding.  "You guys did awesome..Even  if you went easy on him mom."

"It's his birthday. " She defended. "That being said..Ring size?" Priyanka added in tease.

Connie took the box from the table, grinning cheekily. " I plead the fifth." 

#Fighting flirty #steven universe fanfiction #steven universe fandom #steven's birthday #Mister and heart berry #mister #priyanka maheswaran #Doug Maheswaran #connie maheswaran #steven universe

[meereens]

a dream of spring rarepairs week - day 2: children

A little foster brother might be just what Tommen needs to wean him away from Margaery and her hens. In time they might grow as close as Robert and his boyhood friend Ned Stark.

9

On Tommen’s ninth nameday, Mother stuffs him into a spring green Essosi doublet with a gold thread lion in the center. The lion is supposed to have two rubies for eyes, but one must have fallen out somewhere along the way—look, Mother, he’s winking—and Mother goes out into the hall to sternly talk at some maid until he hears a muffled sob. Her cheeks are splotched with red when she returns, red as lost rubies, and Tommen casts his gaze downward. His poor one-eyed lion is less frightening. Mother holds his shoulder like a plump mouse in a claw.

“Thieves in Maegor’s Holdfast,” she seethes, digging in her nails. “Were Maegor still master here, those little sneaks would have their eyes put out and their innards broiled for their treachery.” 

“What did you say to her?”

“To whom?”

“The...our servant?” 

“Servant no longer,” Mother tells him as her hands move to his laces. “Dorcas! Fetch us something green or gold, with gems sewn in. We cannot have the king playing the pauper on his special day.” 

The large woman standing behind a screen for his privacy silently shuffles over to his wardrobe while Mother rips him out of his clothes. The lion splits open, loosening the garment, and he holds up his arms so she can wiggle it over his head. 

“You must especially look your best to meet Lady Merryweather’s present.”

That excites Tommen. Meeting means something to make friends with, something to have and to hold like a—

“Is it a kitten?” There can never be too many kittens in the Red Keep. 

“No, but you will play together.” 

Tommen pouts at that. It will probably be a cuddly rabbit or a little puppy that will grow into a fearsome hound, animals that are lovable enough but cannot capture his heart in the same vein as cats. Margaery understands, he thinks. The doublet Dorcas comes back with is gold, with slashed sleeves, pearl buttons, and garnets lining the neck and shoulders in a crescent shape. His lion had more character, this he knows, but Mother seems at least more pleased than she was before, so he wears it down to the tourney held for his day. 

And what a tourney. Joff’s—his heart does a sad little flip whenever he’s reminded of Joff—was pure fun since they put an enemy straw man out for him to batter, but it was a shame they chose to hold it behind castle walls instead of outside by the bubbling of the river and the chirps of baby birds in trees. His is along the Blackwater, as it should be, and all the Tyrells come out to greet him first in varying shades of green. Margaery’s gown is the palest mint, her hair worn loose with a circlet of cloth buttercups on top. Buttercup would be a good name for a cat. She smiles and takes his arm, but as they are about to ascend to their seats, Mother says, “Lady Merryweather, don’t we have a guest for the royal box?”

All eyes turn to Mother’s friend, standing near the back of the rapidly growing group. An olive-skinned boy smaller than him peers out from behind her skirts. 

“Russell, go on and introduce yourself to His Grace.”

The boy rushes forward, punches off the ground, then flips before landing neatly at Tommen’s feet. He is too stunned to respond, much less clap for him. Mother does, prompting a few ladies to follow in her example. Russell kneels, and he notices how bushy his hair is, thick black tufts that stick out at every possible angle. He looks to Margaery for what to say, but her face is set in the same soft smile. 

“From this day on, Russell will be the Crown’s fosterling,” Mother announces in a regal voice. This time, everybody claps. 

11 

Russell’s nameday is today, and he keeps on reminding Tommen that he has to tumble for him the way he did for his ninth. 

“I was six and I had more skill in my pinky toe than you do now,” he boasts, puffing up his chest like a proud bird about to shit over a parapet. He taught him that expression, foul mouth included. He always wants to teach him things, from how to tumble to how to lie without bursting into tears to how to start a fight in Flea Bottom and come out scratchless. Half of what Russell claims he’s done when they’re not training sounds like something out of a fable; Lann the Clever’s natural son born thousands of years too late. 

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll box you on the nose,” he teases.

“Not fair—it’s too big a target.” 

His nose can charitably be called a lightly beaten potato; Tommen was shocked to discover nobody broke it. Grinning, he pulls his companion by the arm and leads him through winding stone corridors, their feet pounding at such a pace that Ser Loras has to run along to play his role as Kingsguard. Russell’s luck struck again when it came time to choose a mentor, since Mother wouldn’t allow the Knight of Flowers to serve as his. “But Ser Loras is my favorite,” he said when she revealed Ser Addam Marbrand would be his knight instead. “Favorites change,” she said.

My favorites never will. He almost misses the Queen’s Ballroom, backing up into Russell as they skid to a halt. 

“Are you holding a ball for me?” he launches into asking. “No—a feast?”

It must be hard for him, not knowing. Even worse, being the only one who doesn’t know. He is the first to whisper did you hear when they break their fast together, followed by an enticing rumor he hopes is not true or a tale so outrageously wild he hopes it is.

“No,” Tommen says as Ser Loras opens the doors. “We’re holding court.”

Inside, thick woolen carpets have been placed on the floor, and tapestries of contented animals lounging in meadows and forests cover the walls. There are three large chairs side-by-side, like he asked for, and Margaery sits in the rightmost with a cream kitten on her lap.

The kittens. Everywhere, the kittens. Clawing at loose threads in the wool, or curled up to nap, kittens litter the ground like snow in Winterfell. Each of Margaery’s ladies holds one, waiting dutifully in a line facing the thrones, while servants scoop up more balls of fluff with cradling hands. Grown cats prowl the ballroom as well, though there are fewer in their ranks. A velvet-capped bard strums a jolly tune as two striped ones twine about his ankles. The overall effect is the closest thing to paradise Tommen can imagine; Russell’s mouth is agape. 

“You...you didn’t.” 

“I did!”

Margaery claps twice. “Presenting the Court of Cats!” 

“You know I don’t like them,” Russell groans, but follows him through the horde regardless. 

“You will.” 

His friend has never had an appreciation for cats, holding his pets at a distance when Tommen brings them in to play or pretending they make him sniffle and sneeze. When pressed, he gives a flimsy excuse like I don’t understand them. 

That ends here today. Once Russell finds a cat to fall in love with, his doubts will melt away like rain. He knows they will; it is even surer than his father’s kingly blood running through his heart.

“If this is the Court of Cats, does that make you the king of cats?” 

He giggles as he takes the left chair. “Perhaps, though you’re the guest of honor. Sit!” 

Megga Tyrell presents first, hoisting a white kitten with a black face up for all to see. 

“Darling,” says Margaery.

“Adorable,” says Tommen.

“Looks like it dipped itself in soot,” mutters Russell. 

The king and queen exchange a look. “On to the next, then.” 

And so it goes. Every time a kitten is presented, even if the Mother’s most perfectly crafted creation, Russell manages to find fault with it. Some are mewling too much, or might as well be mute. Some have too much softness to their limbs, or are too scrawny. Some have tasseled ears that look silly, or their ears are too plain. Once he dismisses an exquisite silver kitten with pale green eyes because it reminds him of another cat that stole a piece of bread. Margaery’s ladies wilt one by one, letting their offerings back onto the floor to search for new ones that will undoubtedly get rejected also. The Court of Cats seems more and more pointless when—

“Shoo! Get out! This isn’t your place, you mangy beast!” 

One of the servants is trying to drive a dirty yellow cat away from the others. She kicks it with her foot, but it dives back between her heels, almost causing her to trip. 

“What’s going on there?” Russell calls out. 

The woman swoops down and catches the cat, who struggles madly from between her brawny arms. 

“Apologies, m’lord, this one must’ve snuck in. I’ll throw it out right away.” 

“No, bring it here. I want to see.”

Tommen eyes the proceedings with new interest. The intruder is uglier than the bad cat that used to visit his window at night, sporting a crooked, scowling jaw and missing its left eye. 

“He’s a pirate cat,” Russell declares. “He lost his eye at sea.” 

“It sounds like you like him,” he says.

“I don’t like him—I respect him.” 

“That is a good start, is it not?” asks Margaery.

The cat seems to think not, as he starts yowling at the top of his lungs. 

“His name is Buttercup,” Russell says, and the king of cats cannot contain his glee. 

15

He is almost sixteen. Almost a man grown, and feeling half a boy. Lady Olenna pulled him aside in the garden the other day to insinuate about performing husbandly duties, which he knows he has to get around to doing sooner or later. But why not later rather than sooner? Margaery is three-and-twenty, in the bloom of her childbearing years, still fecund if they wait until he is eighteen or nineteen or twenty, and he is the king. 

He has to remind himself he is the king. At the small council earlier, murmurings arose that the Queen of Meereen was planning to make her way across the narrow sea and reclaim what she believed to be her birthright. Russell’s father, his Hand for the past few years, fumbled around the issue before admitting they were woefully unprepared should dragonfire chance to rain down upon King’s Landing. 

That has been my week—fire and bloodlines. 

He cannot imagine any two things less appealing to think about. Ser Pounce, Boots, and Lady Whiskers trail him into the royal apartments, sticking their tails up at Ser Boros as they glide past. His bedchamber is a welcome sight, made more so by Russell tickling a surly Buttercup on the bed. 

“From rags to the royal bedchamber,” he says when he catches sight of him. “This cat has the life bards dream of.”

“And what of your life?” Tommen asks as he sits by them. Buttercup hisses and slides off to lurk beneath. 

“My life? I am the king’s dearest friend, of course! I whisper poison in your ear and thus I am well contented.”

“You do not.” 

They stare at one another, until Russell goes cross-eyed and sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth. Laughter bubbles from Tommen’s throat, spreading to the corners of his eyes and falling down as tears. When it dies down, he feels a sudden emptiness.

“I am glad our mothers made us friends.”

Russell snorts. “Our mothers didn’t make us do anything, no more than you made me adopt my Buttercup.” 

“It seems like everybody is making me do things. My mother, the small council, even Margaery, sometimes. I am—I wish we could go be pirates.”

He feels the impact of arms being thrown around him immediately after he says it, the hug as instantly comfortable as it is crushing. “My poor king of cats,” Russell whispers. “They mean to take you away from me.”

I am king, Tommen thinks. But that does not mean he is free.

#tommen baratheon #asoiafrare #russell merryweather #asoiaf #tommen x russell #day two children #does that even have a tag lol #this is rough but it's time to submit so buckle in #can we stan characters who don't appear onpage? #mayhaps

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act IV, #11 ~ Jealousy (Cory Hong)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Supernatural, Romance, Vampire AU

Word Count: 3,227

Pairing: Reader x Cory

World: 24K

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

When you first met Cory, he was a member of the group 24K. You had met the group through mutual friends and instantly hit it off with the group’s leader. Pretty soon, you and Cory became inseparable – every bit of spare time he had was spent with you. 

He was your best friend and you were his, but life seemed determined to keep the two of you apart. Every time you made plans to hang out, something came up at the last minute and the outing had to be canceled. It got to the point where you weren’t able to see each other at all. You were busy with college and work, while Cory was working his ass off trying to make it big.

A month passed. Two. Three.

You could feel yourself growing apart from him and it scared you. While you had many acquaintances in your life, you only had a handful of friends but none of them bore the same weight in your heart as Cory did. What if you never saw him again? What if he forgot about you?

You frowned at the thought and quickly shook your head. He was a busy man that barely got time for himself, must less for anyone else. You were thankful for whatever time he could spare you, no matter how little that ended up being.

That was enough for you… right?

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

A year had passed since you last saw Cory. Your brother had gotten into a car accident and needed to be looked after, so you left South Korea, returning to your home state of Oregon to care for him. It had broken your heart to say goodbye to Cory, but nothing could be done about it. You briefly wondered if the universe really did have something against your friendship.

Autumn had finally rolled around and you couldn’t be happier. It was your favorite time of year, after all. A Halloween superstore had just opened up down the street from your college and you wasted no time in applying there. You got a callback that same day – you were hired to work the closing shift, from six in the afternoon until close at midnight. 

There were a couple others that had been hired for the same shift, and they were not happy about you. You were, though. Ever since you had been a kid, you’ve always found solace in the night time. It was peaceful and quiet, and more importantly, lacked the number of people you would typically find during the day.

Between work and school, you didn’t have much free time. Although there were others that had been scheduled to work the closing shift throughout the week, they up and quit without warning, leaving your boss understaffed. You offered to take over their hours, which he happily agreed.

Getting to work in a store surrounded by Halloween decorations, props, and costumes during the night time when very few people messed with you… it was like a childhood dream come true!

The bell above the door dinged as it was pulled open and you smiled brightly. “Welcome! Oh, hello, Fried.”

Fried smiled a charming smile, brushing strands of his navy blue hair away from his face. As usual, his long hair was loosely braided, resting on his right shoulder. The bright red ribbon on the end stuck out against his dark clothes. “A fine night to you, Y/N.”

Fried was a regular. He had been visiting the store every night without fail since the day it opened, always appearing around ten-thirty. He never actually bought anything, just browsed the products and made small talk with you. It creeped out the other employees that had worked the same shift, but you just assumed that he was lonely and enjoyed the Halloween merchandise like you did. He never did or said anything bad, so his presence didn’t bother you in the slightest.

Cory always did say you were too trusting for your own good.

“You got in new stock today, as I understand,” he commented as he approached the glass counter, watching you re-arrange the candles on shelves behind the counter.

“That’s right!” you smiled over your shoulder at him before picking up another scented candle from the box, this one claiming to smell like witch’s brew. “Vampires are pretty popular lately, so we got a whole shipment of Vampire-themed merch today.”

Fried’s dark eyes flashed with anger before returning to normal, his hand forming a fist atop the counter. “I see,” his words were breathy. “Where?”

You didn’t notice his change in attitude or how tense he became, too focused on the task at hand – you were terrified that if you let your attention slip, you’d drop and break them and they were expensive candles. “Over in the back right corner. Mason should still be over… there…” you glanced over your shoulder, blinking at the spot he had been seconds before. ‘Huh, he must be really into vampires’.

A few minutes of silence passed. You had just placed the last candle and were hopping down from the step ladder when your co-worker, Mason, approached you with a weary expression.

“Did you finish the display?” you asked with a smile.

“Almost,” he answered, glancing over his shoulder. “That guy is really weird.”

“Fried?” you questioned, tilting your head curiously.

Mason frowned at you, his blue eyes filled with worry. “You shouldn’t be so friendly with that guy, Y/N. There’s something… off about him.”

You mirrored his frown, giving him your full attention after folding up the step ladder. “He seems fine to me.”

He sighed, shaking his head. The motion caused a few strands of blonde hair to fall over his forehead. “You’re too nice, Y/N! Just… be careful, okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

A hand reached out, resting on his shoulder. He jumped back in surprise, slapping the hand away from him. Fried stared him down for a moment before turning to you. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

Before you could answer him, Mason spoke up, eyes narrowed. “Sorry, but we’re closing early today. Please leave.”

“Do you even have that authority?” Fried challenged, folding his arms over his chest.

Mason scowled, taking a step forward. “I’m the manager on duty, so yes I have that authority. Leave now, sir.”

You frowned, your gaze flickering between the two men as they glared each other down. You could almost feel the electricity between them. After a tense minute, Fried turned and exited the store. Mason followed close behind, locking up and unplugging the neon ‘Open’ sign.

“Won’t you get into trouble for closing early?” you asked, softly, not wanting to further annoy him.

He seemed to relax a bit now that the door was secure, but he kept his guard up just in case. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he offered you a smile. “Let’s finish up and head home.”

You nodded and got back to work.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

You stifled a yawn as you entered your dorm building. It was only just turning midnight, meaning you got home about an hour or so earlier than you normally would. Even so, you were exhausted and still had class to get to early that morning. You turned the corner and froze, nearly dropping your keys. “Cory?”

The male in question had been pacing back and forth in front of your door but he stopped dead when he heard your voice. One second, he was at the end of the hall and the next, he was hugging you tightly to his body, picking you up off the ground. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, resting his face in your neck. He could hear your pulse increase. “I called you so many times!”

“I kinda forgot my phone…” you rubbed the back of your head, offering a sheepish smile.

He set you down, eyes scanning your body. It was very faint, but he detected a strange scent on you, lingering on your skin and clothes. His eyes narrowed, grip tightening unconsciously. He didn’t like that smell. Not one bit.

“Cory? What’s wrong?”

He snapped out of it, releasing you as he forced a smile. “Nothing! Just happy to see you after so long.”

Your heart skipped a beat, cheeks growing warm as you turned to your door, sliding the keys in the lock. Cory followed you inside, his nose in the air as he tried to detect the scent inside your room, but it wasn’t on any of the furniture or books. Whatever that scent came from, it had never been inside your room. That made him relax a bit.

“I didn’t know you were coming back to Oregon,” you told him, pulling your coat off.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he grinned, flopping onto the bed. “Did it work?”

“Definitely,” you turned your back to him to hide the smile that lit up your face. You were so happy to see him that you could cry, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, so you held them back.

The scent was beginning to drive him nuts, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully relax as long as it invaded his nostrils. “Why don’t you go take a shower to warm up? Then we can catch up over some horror movies.”

“Is that your subtle way of saying I stink, Cory?” you raised a brow at him playfully.

If he could blush, he would have. “No, I just don’t want you to get sick.”

“Fine, fine~” you clutched your towel and change of clothes to your chest as you entered the bathroom attached to your room.

Cory grabbed your laptop, skimming through a list of horror movies. He avoided the topic of vampires and chose a movie that was sure to make your hair stand on end.

You stepped out of the bathroom, fully clothed and refreshed from the warm water. You saw Cory on his stomach on your bed, playing around on his phone. The laptop was open in front of him – he had set up the movie already, pausing it on the intro screen so you could see the title of the movie.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas? Really?” you cocked a brow, sitting beside him and crossing your legs. “Isn’t that more of a Christmas movie than Halloween?”

He shrugged, scooting over so you weren’t hanging off the edge. “Who cares. It has all of the elements to make it a good Halloween movie. It’s a movie that must be watched twice a year without fail.”

“Is that right?” you chuckled, pulling the comforter from under his body. Even though the dorms had a heating system, it was old and didn’t circulate well through the old building. Once the two of you were snuggled under the comforter, he hit play.

You made it through half the movie before your eyes began to droop. You fought against the sleepiness trying to claim you, but you lost, your head falling onto your arms. Cory smiled softly as he put his arm protectively around you, kissing your forehead.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

You entered the Halloween store with a bright smile, greeting your co-worker before heading into the back to clock in. Cory had insisted on following you to work, refusing to accept ‘no’ as an answer. You had been hesitant, but you were scheduled to work alone that night so it would be nice to have some company. Your co-worker clocked out as soon as you clocked in and left the store with a polite ‘goodbye’.

“I didn’t think this store would be so… empty,” Cory commented when you returned to the front. He leaned on the glass counter, looking at the various glass knick-knacks that had been placed on display. “Is it always this dead?”

You hummed, thoughtfully. “It’s pretty busy during the day, but it starts to slow down around five o’clock. A couple people show up at night here and there, but I’m sure as Halloween gets closer, it’ll start to get busier.”

“And do you always work alone?” he frowned. The thought made his stomach clench painfully. He didn’t consider you to be weak by no means, but what would happen if some lunatic came at you with a gun? Your chances of survival were lowered if you were alone, and the chance of getting robbed was higher. Not only that, but there were more than just criminals stalking the night.

“Not usually, no,” you picked up the basket that had been set behind the counter. It was filled with ‘return items’, or items that people decided they didn’t want or couldn’t afford at the register. “Mason, the night manager, is usually with me, but his mom is really sick so he had to call out to care for his baby sister.”

Cory followed you closely as you returned the items, his brow furrowed in thought. ‘Mason… is he the scent I detected on her? If he usually works with her, it might just be…’

The last item in the basket was a ceramic pumpkin cookie jar that needed to be returned to the top shelf. All glass and ceramic items were kept up high to avoid kids grabbing and breaking them. Even on your tiptoes, you couldn’t quite reach the shelf.

Chuckling, Cory came up behind you, his chest against your band as his large hand overtook yours. He easily pushed the pumpkin onto the shelf, but he didn’t step back from you. Your cheeks were burning and he knew it, he could smell the blood rushing to your face. 

His arms wrapped around your shoulders, his nose nuzzling your neck. It was so easy for him to turn you into a blushing mess and he loved it. He loved knowing he had this power over you, and he loved being able to feel your blood rushing through your veins. You drove him crazy and you didn’t even know it.

The bell above the door dinged and you quickly pulled away, rushing to the front of the store. You were thankful for the excuse to get away from such an embarrassing situation. Your eyes landed on Fried and you smiled, about to greet him, but his expression made you stop dead, smile faltering.

He was standing in the doorway, his hands clenched tightly at his sides and his jaw set. His eyes took in your red face and the sound of your racing heart and his eyes narrowed over your shoulder, starting to glow a bright, crimson red.

Something inside your brain told you that these were not just contacts. Alarm bells were ringing like crazy in your mind. You took a shaky step backward, smacking into Cory, who put his hands on your shoulders protectively. You glanced up at him and squeaked – his eyes were glowing red, too!

Your heart was pulsing in your ears. ‘What the hell is happening right now…’

“It was you that I smelled on her,” Cory spoke. You could see fangs inside his mouth, glinting menacingly in the low light of the store.

“And who are you?” Fried tilted his head up, a smug expression on his face. He, too had fangs that glinted when he spoke. “I have been with Y/N every day for two and a half weeks. Not once have I caught your scent. And believe me, I would have noticed since it’s so… pungent.”

Jealousy bubbled up from within him, his fists clenching as he stepped forward to put himself between you and Fried.

You aren’t sure what suddenly came over you, but you didn’t like the smug tone Fried was using or the fact that he had just insulted your best friend. You put your hands on your hips. “I’ll have you know that Cory and I are best friends and we’ve known each other for three years. And he doesn’t smell!” you instantly regretted your decision as his glare snapped to you. He looked pissed. You cleared your throat, shrinking back behind Cory, who had a mix of happiness and amusement on his face.

Fried took a step forward and Cory followed suit, ordering you to stay behind him. Fried grew angrier at this, his upper lip curling back as he hissed. “I spent three weeks scoping out this mark. Do you honestly believe I’m going to just step aside and let you have her?”

“No one decides who has me but me!” you could feel his glare through Cory’s body. “No matter how long you ‘scope me out’, I’ll never be yours!”

Fried snarled at you and you squeaked in fright, throwing your arms around Cory’s waist, your face hidden in the back of his jacket. The reality suddenly hit you that this was not a normal man that you were yelling at.

“You heard her, now leave,” Cory ordered, his voice full of bravado.

Though Fried had been a vampire much longer than Cory, about seven centuries, in fact, Cory was stronger and Fried knew that. He could easily sense the power lurking beneath the surface. If they fought it out, Fried would surely lose.

“This isn’t over,” Fried promised, but he knew it very much was. He hastily exited the store, shattering the glass when he slammed into it.

You hadn’t realized you were shaking until Cory turned, bringing you into his warm chest. His embrace was warm and protective. “Cory, you… you’re a vampire?”

His body tensed and he nodded. His voice was soft as he asked. “Are you scared of me, Y/N?”

“If I was scared of you, do you really think I’m be clinging to you, you dork?” your face was still pressed against his chest, so your words were a bit muffled, but he heard them.

Cory smiled, pulling back just enough so he could rest his forehead against yours. “I wanted to tell you so bad, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Your cold hands cupped his face. “You’re my best friend, Cory. No matter what happens, I’ll always be on your side,” you could feel the blood rushing to your face, but you had to speak from your heart. It was now or never. “You are honestly the most important person in my life. You always have been, and you always will be.”

Hearing those words made him lose his self-control. He slammed his lips against yours, his fangs dragging across the flesh as his grip tightened around your body. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, holding back a groan when his tongue swiped at your bottom lip to taste your blood.

“Come back to Korea with me,” he whispered, licking his lips, stained red from your blood. “We can get a house together. And a cat. I know you like cats.”

“Are you trying to bribe me with a cat?” you teased, tugging at his t-shirt.

He chuckled, running his tongue over your lip to collect the new bead of blood that had formed. “Maybe~ Is it working?”

“You had me long before you mentioned a cat,” you pulled away, your hands folded behind your back as you grinned. “But you can’t go back on your word! We are definitely getting a cat.”

“Of course,” Cory smiled, his voice soft. “I will give you the world, Y/N. Just say the word.”

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

#frightful october #halloween #cory hong #hong cory #24k #24k imagines #24k scenarios #kpop imagines #writing #creative writing #writeblr #scenario #scenarios #kpop scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #reader insert #reader-insert #reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfics #kpop scenario #one shot #supernatural #romance #vampire au #au #alternate universe

[fitllivinglifestyle]

Best Hiking in Ireland and Other Unique Irish Adventures

If you want to fully experience one of the most naturally beautiful places in the world then you must go Hiking in Ireland. The rolling green fields, stone fences, savage cliff coastlines and  medieval castles make it one of the most awe inspiring locations for a great hike or country walk. It is one of the greenest place I have hiked in the world, right up there with my home area of the Pacific Northwest and Hiking the Banaue Rice Terraces in the Philippines. Then you have the Irish themselves who are some of the friendliest people you will ever come across. Everywhere you go, whether a city or small village, you will find a pub filled with welcoming  locals, music, dancing and stories of myths and legends. A perfect place to rest your feet and quench your thirst after a day of hiking the Irish hills and valleys. So where do you hike in Ireland? Well the list is almost endless but to get you started I have created a guide to some of the most scenic hiking spots in Ireland and Northern Ireland. Here you will see some of the best this island has to offer while hitting up a few iconic photographic spots as well.  

Best Hiking in Ireland and Other Unique Irish Adventures

1. The Cliffs of Moher

At over 700 feet tall these cliffs are magnificent to view. They are one of the most visited attractions in Ireland and can get busy during peak season. I suggest going early in the morning when they first open. There is a great walk along the cliffs. They do have a small wall barrier but this can be easily hopped over for a full cliff hike experience. Be careful as winds can be very strong when walking too close to the edge. You can literally fill up a whole card of images here. Look below and see the power of mother nature slamming into the walls. Scenes from great movies like The Princess Bride (Cliffs of Insanity) and Harry Potter and the half blood prince have been filmed here. Here is a 360 experience for the Cliffs of Moher Galway is one of the best places to stay as a home base for seeing the Cliffs of Moher. A bustling center with so many pubs to explore when you are not exploring nature. Galway Hotels

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2. Ballybunion Cliff Walk

South of Galway is a little town called Ballybunion. Along the coast is a great walk along some beautiful beaches and picturesque cliffs. This walk has been used by visitors for the last 100 years. You can also explore a pretty castle and some lovely sand dunes. Most people can easily spend a couple hours here exploring.

3. Clogher Strand Beach

A must see stop when driving around the Dingle peninsula is Clogher Strand. There is a car park here and even on the calmest day, this little cove is spectacular to view. The rocky shore and cliffs are battered by wind and waves up to 26 feet high. There is a wonderful hike from this cove along the countryside and cliffs to the Pier at Wine Strand. This is some of the best hiking in Ireland. This route takes about 3 hours, but you can make your way back via a road if you do not want as long of a walk. Many movie fans may recognize this area as the Irish countryside that Tom Cruise's character was from in "Far and Away."

Dingle is an iconic Irish village worth a stop itself. It has one of the biggest food festivals and also is home to one of the most famous Dolphin's by the name of Fungie. Locals say this same dolphin has made this it's home for the last 32 years. Dingle Hotels

4. Slea Head and Dunmore Head

Easily accessible from Dingle, this is the most western point in Ireland. You can park at Coumeenoole Beach and head up to see Coumeenoole Ogham Stone. This particular Ogham stone is believed to be a place of worship for someone named Erc to the goddess Duibhne(Dovinnias). It is a bit of a hike up to the stone through fields of sheep and over a small fence, but the views from there are one of a kind. You have a heavenly view of the Blasket Islands to the west and nothing else until North America behind them. To the east you can view Slea Head beach and endless miles of green countryside. Put this one on your hiking in Ireland list.

5. Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe is a scenic narrow mountain pass just outside of the popular town of Killarney, Ireland. A popular way to ride through the pass is with a jaunting car or pony guided by locals who live around the gap. You can also find some of the best hiking trails in Ireland here. Many also choose to bike through the area. There are even rock climbing routes in the area for those looking for a more extreme adventure. The Dunloe gap is about 7 miles long and consists of 11 lakes connected by the river Loe and an old arch bridge called the "Wishing Bridge." The gap was also a filming area for the movie "The Crying Game." Killarney is your best bet for a place to stay in this area and is a wonderful town full of pubs, delicious food, live music and amenities.  There is also the Killarney National Park to explore and definitely worth a visit when in Killarney. One of the largest parks in Ireland. Killarney Hotels

6. Bog of Frogs Loop

Dublin is an epicenter in Ireland. Many people just stay in Dublin for pubs, music and food but there is adventure just outside the city along with some great Ireland hiking. Within the town of Howth is a fairytale hike through enchanted forests and up to an amazing lookout. This whole area known as Howth Head was immortalized in James Joyce's book Ulysses. One of my favorite Howth hikes is Bog of Frogs that winds through an enchanted forest of gnarly trees which locals say is full of fairies.  Check out Shane's Howth Hikes for guided Ireland hiking tours of this area. Need a spot for lunch? Don't miss the delicious seafood at Octopussy's Seafood Tapas Restaurant on the Howth waterfront. Coming from the Pacific Northwest, I know seafood and this is good seafood. Need place to say in Dublin? Dublin Hotels

7. Dalkey Island

In the town of Dalkey just outside of Dublin you can kayak over to Dalkey Island with Kayaking Dublin. This drops you right into Lord of the Rings-like terrain. The kayak trip over is full of encounters with seals and beautiful coastline. Then you touch down on the island which is covered with rock and a spongy Irish moss. I chose to go barefoot and literally felt like a hobbit exploring the island.  If overnight stays were allowed I may not have left. The island was used by the Vikings as a holding area for slaves they had captured and a base for attacks and defense. This uninhabited island has been used for various purposes for 6000 years. It is now home to goats, seals, rabbits and legends.  Want lunch in Dalkey? Look no further than The Dalkey Duck Looking for more adventure? Zip It Forest Adventures may be what you need. Packed with fun and challenging routes for beginners to advanced. The Red Circuit is an upper body killer!

8. Hellfire Club (Mount Pelier Hill)

One of the most haunted buildings in Ireland wrapped up in witchcraft and satanic rituals. The Hellfire Club had multiple meeting locations around Ireland and some of the most influential and richest men in the country would partake in these gatherings. This old hunting lodge built by William Connolly is on top of Mount Pelier Hill. Locals share stories of debauchery, sacrifices and even the devil himself at this lodge. The hike up to the lodge is gorgeous with views of Dublin to the North and the Wicklow mountains to the South. The lodge itself sits on an old burial site in which adds to the haunted tales and stories of satanic rituals. You can explore the building and feel the eerie presence of those who may have died at this site. Watch your step as the building can be damp and dark. There is a great company Hilltop Treks that does Ireland Hiking tours and can take you up to this spot and other hiking in Ireland Watch a story told by Terry from Hilltop Treks about Hellfire Club here. Looking for something extra to do in this area. How about horseback riding in Dublin overlooking the Wicklow Hills with Killegar Stables? They are a great outfit for beginners to experts and one of Ireland's longest established riding schools. Take in the fresh Irish air as you trot through the countryside. Prefer golfing to hiking? Check out this resort just outside of Dublin with golfing at your fingertips? Check out Portmarnock Hotel and Golf Links

9. Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge

Situated in Northern Ireland along the coast is a rope bridge not for the feint of heart. The bridge is 65 feet long and 100 feet above the rocks below. It connects Carrickarede island with the mainland. It is a nice scenic walk down to the bridge, there is a fee to cross it. On the other side you can explore the old fishing dock and take the stairs to the top of the island. Upon returning across the bridge to your left you can follow the trail to a nice lookout spot for a great photographic view of the bridge and island. This will loop you back to the parking area. Not some of the best hiking in Ireland, but definitely a unique and beautiful area. Plan to stay in Belfast? Belfast is a prime city to situate yourself when exploring Northern Ireland. You can visit Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, Giant's Causeway, Dunluce Castle and The Dark Hedges all from Belfast. Belfast Hotels

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10. Giant's Causeway

One of Northern Ireland's most visited natural wonders. An area consisting of about 40,000 interlocking basalt columns. This is the by-product of an ancient volcanic eruption and is now a UNESCO site. Legend denotes the columns are the remains of a route built by giants. To get to the columns you must park above near the Visitors Center. Remember entrance to the Giant's Causeway is free but use of any of the facilities like the car park requires payment. In slow season you may be able to stop for a drink or snack at the pub and use their parking area or find parking along the road or a wall near the visitors center. It is a bit of a hike down along the coast to get to the columns, but a fairly level road to walk on. Once there, you can spends hours climbing and exploring the area. One the weirdest landscapes next to Cappadocia, Turkey.

Are you a Game of Thrones fan? When you are on your way to the Giant's Causeway or any other of the Northern Ireland Coastal locations, you can stop by the Dark Hedges. Used in the popular TV series Game of Thrones. The massive and unique trees curve over the road and give an eerie and medieval feel to them. Here is another article about Game of Thrones in Dubrovnik.

11. Dunluce Castle and Cliffs

The medieval Dunluce Castle sits right on the edge of the coastline of Northern Ireland. Something right out of Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings. On all sides of the castle are steep drops which made it an ideal fortification for early Christians and Vikings. There is a cool little bridge connecting to the castle plus a waterway escape to the ocean from under the castle. You can spend a good hour exploring the area and walking through the castle. Plus the area is beautiful for a cycle or a good ole Irish walk along the coast. Read about another Historic Trail here.

12. Glenveagh National Park

Glenveagh National Park is an adventurers paradise. In the county of Donegal in Northwest Ireland lies an oasis of trails, cycling, fishing, vast landscapes and a picturesque castle. In reality this area provides some of the most remote and best hiking in Ireland. Entry to the area is free, but services will be extra. At almost 40,000 acres, this park provides countless hours of exploring. It consists of most of Derryveagh Mountians, the Poisoned Glen and part of Errigal Mountain. You can rent a bike with www.grassroutes.ie to discover more of the area. Fishing can be done on Lough Veagh from July 15th - September 30th. Contact www.donegalanglingholidays.com to arrange. Derry, also know as Londonderry is just over the border in Northern Ireland, but provides a good home base for exploring County Donegal. It is a sight to explore by itself as well. It is a walled city with various 17th century architecture to see. LondonDerry Hotels

  Another option for accommodations is Ireland 's Blue Book. They provide access to Irish Country House Hotels, Manor Houses and Castles for a more unique experience.  

13. Slieve League Cliffs

Just over 2 hours from Derry, these Irish cliffs are said to be one of the best cliffs is Ireland. Larger and just as spectacular as the Cliffs of Moher. I am talking almost 3 times higher. You get wonderful views of Sligo Mountains and Donegal Bay from the top of the cliffs where the ocean devours the rock below. If you are feeling like a little extra adventure, head onto One Man's Pass which connects around to Pilgrim's Path. This is one of Ireland's best hiking trails in Ireland and goes along one of Ireland's most impressive coastlines. The best part is this area is less explored than many other parts of Ireland, at least for now. Thanks for reading. Another detailed article about an Ultimate Road Trip from Belfast to Derry, Northern Ireland is here. Let me know if you think any new hiking in Ireland adventures should be added. Always looking for a new adventure to try. Here is some of the Best Hikes Near Seattle, my hometown. On Pinterest? Use this Pin below to share!

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[madlori]

Unveiled - Chapter 3

You guys have been super encouraging today so...surprise! Here’s Chapter 3 early. And it’s kinda short, so. Might as well tack it right on.

Aaaaand chapter 4 will likely show up tomorrow sometime. I’M WEAK. 

BTW make sure you’ve read chapter 2, I posted it earlier today. Links are beneath the header image.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2000 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Definitely sex in this one.

Read it on AO3

The Royal Bedchamber that his consort had mentioned in his message was not Zhenya’s bedroom, nor was it the Consort’s. Their respective rooms were almost next to each other, but not quite -- between them, and with a door leading to each, was the so-called Royal Bedchamber, which was used only during embargo for intimate relations. Once the Consort had conceived and the embargo was lifted, any intimacy they chose to engage in would take place in either of their own rooms.

Zhenya showered, scrubbing himself well. This was the first time he’d really be having relations with his husband -- the ritualized consummation during the wedding hardly counted. It was rare for sex between embargoed partners to reach the level of passionate lovemaking, but they could be more relaxed with each other, and enjoy a more personal experience, than they could do with a cleric standing over them.

The best part, though, was that even though Zhenya would still not see his husband’s face or even most of his body, he would definitely get to see his cock, and he was looking forward to it.

He suspected that his new husband was a man who appreciated punctuality, so he waited until precisely 3:00 pm, then opened the door into the bedchamber.

The consort was sitting on the large, low bed that was the main piece of furniture in the room. He’d changed out of the black drapings he’d been wearing earlier in the garden and into lighter, flesh-toned veils that still concealed him while being a little less forbidding. They covered him only to the middle of his chest and were entirely opaque; Zhenya wondered, not for the first time, how the consort could see through them. He straightened up as Zhenya entered. Sitting there on the bed with his legs folded under him, perked up at attention, the man looked like an eager schoolchild waiting to be called on. His consort had yet to speak a single word to him, but Zhenya was utterly charmed.

Zhenya shut the door behind him and lurked there for a moment, not quite sure how, exactly, to approach having sex with this man. Should he just climb aboard and go to it? Seemed so abrupt, and borderline rude. There was no need for pretense  -- they both knew why they were here -- but that didn’t seem like any reason to abandon all niceties, just because they couldn’t make small talk or kiss.

His consort seemed to sense his hesitation -- he took a breath, unfolded his legs, stretched out and...well, there was no other way to put it...displayed himself.

Zhenya’s breath caught. His husband -- it still felt new and strange to even think the word --  was toned and muscular, with magnificent thighs and a narrow waist, the V of his hips drawing Zhenya’s gaze to his impressive cock, sizable even in its flaccid state. Zhenya couldn’t see the man’s face, but he knew that the consort was watching him.

Zhenya slipped out of his dressing gown, revealing his own nudity. His cock was filling rapidly; his balls felt heavy beneath it, as if the task he was here to accomplish weighed upon them. He let his eyes roam up his consort’s strong legs and hips, and all at once he knew what he wanted.

He stepped to the foot of the bed and made a “turn over” motion with one hand. The consort rolled over, keeping his drapings carefully in place, and Zhenya’s cock plumped further at the sight of him. He knelt on the bed and slid his hands to his consort’s hips, urging him up to his knees. Free now to do so, he palmed the smooth, muscled globes, slipping his thumbs between them. The consort arched his back and pressed into Zhenya’s touch in a silent urge to keep going.

Zhenya parted his cheeks, exposing his hole, and then swiftly buried his face there, swiping his tongue up the center with a low growl. He’d wanted to eat this ass since he’d first laid eyes on it, and the reality was even better than his fantasy. The consort smelled clean and masculine, electric like the scent that rose from the earth after a thunderstorm, and Zhenya felt him jump and shudder at the sudden contact. He slipped off his hands where he’d braced on them and sank down to rest on his elbows, dipping his back lower and pressing his ass into Zhenya’s face.

Zhenya relished in the breathy gasps he was wringing from his mate as he worked him over with his mouth. The consort’s cock hung heavy and hard now between his thighs, dripping; Zhenya reached up and stroked it in time with the thrusts of his tongue. He could feel his consort’s pussy getting slick as well; he dipped his tongue lower to swipe across it, drawing a deeper shudder. His own arousal was cresting; he might come without even a hand to himself at this rate, and he had a job to do.

He left off his attentions and knelt up behind his husband, who read the change and moved to spread his thighs and present himself. Zhenya grasped his hips and mounted him quickly, not wanting to finish prematurely and cause an awkward delay while he worked back up to hardness. The consort met his thrusts eagerly, his erection still bobbing free; Zhenya wanted to hang on long enough to bring him to completion as well. He grasped his husband’s cock again and stroked him, keeping a rhythm he hoped would be pleasing; evidently it was, for after only a few strokes the consort stiffened and came over Zhenya’s hand, his passage pulsing and clenching and drawing Zhenya’s orgasm from him. He thrust deep and came hard into his husband’s body, visualizing again a successful conception.

As they both came down, breathing deeply in counterpoint, Zhenya withdrew and collapsed onto his back at the consort’s side. His mate stayed where he was for a moment, then he rolled to his back and tucked his legs close to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Zhenya recognized this as a superstitious posture to maximize the chances of conception. He had his doubts about its effectiveness, but it wasn’t his place to judge his consort’s habits, or his superstitions. What was the harm? After a few minutes during which Zhenya looked his fill at his husband’s fine body while he was otherwise occupied, the consort uncurled himself and rose. He turned to face Zhenya, put his hand to his chest and gave him a little bow, then quickly left the room. Zhenya lingered for a moment, enjoying the lazy post-sex lassitude, before he began to feel self-conscious and retreated to his own chamber to clean up and dress before dinner.

------

Zhenya was restless that night. He hadn’t eaten much at dinner, so distracted had he been by thoughts of the surprisingly good sex he’d had with his new husband, not to mention everyone’s endless teasing about his newlywed status. His consort had not been present; it was nearly impossible for embargoed spouses to share meals given the drapings and veils required, not to mention the restriction on both of their speech, so consorts typically ate privately, in the company of their own guards and attendants where they would be allowed to remove their veils. In fact, Zhenya hadn’t seen his consort all evening, and would very likely not see him again until the next day’s 3:00 appointment.

He wondered how many of those appointments they would have. Their wedding would have been scheduled to coincide with his consort’s most receptive time, which would last for as long as a week, but after that the odds of conception were low. The usual custom was that relations took place only if both parties desired them to, until the next cycle of fertility came around. His consort had seemed to enjoy their appointment today, but would he wish to continue when his chances of conceiving dropped? Zhenya would leave that decision to him. 

Dammit. Now he was restless and hungry. He glanced at the clock -- after midnight. The kitchens would be deserted.

He rose and put on slippers and his dressing gown and snuck down the back staircase to the kitchen.

Which...was not deserted.

Sitting at the long stainless-steel prep table, holding a large bowl of ice cream and spoon frozen halfway to his mouth, staring at Zhenya with wide, surprised eyes, was one of his consort’s guards, the one he’d noticed earlier with the bow legs and the handsome face. As Zhenya watched, a dribble of ice cream slid from the corner of his mouth and fell to the spotless tabletop. He looked like a child, caught stealing sweets from the cupboard.

“Well, you’re caught,” Zhenya said. “Off to the gallows with you.”

The man seemed to remember himself. He dropped the bowl and spoon with a clatter and jumped to his feet, saluting smartly -- it looked odd on a man clad in a threadbare t--shirt and loose sleeping pants. “Your Royal Highness, my apologies. I…”

“At ease,” Zhenya said, flapping a hand. “I just came down for a late night snack myself. Looks like you had the same idea.” He went to the cabinet, in search of the graham cookies that were his favorite. “Ah ha,” he said, pulling out a tin. He poured some milk and joined his mystery guest at the island. The guard had resumed his ice cream binge. Zhenya peered over. “What flavor is that?”

The guard licked his lips. “Butter pecan.”

“Mmm. My favorite.”

“Mine, too.” He looked down at his bowl of ice cream, then cleared his throat. “Sir, I really do apologize. I’m…”

“Never mind. You don’t report to me, right? We’re...colleagues. If anything. Besides, I’d be a fool not to make friends with one of the men who guards my husband.”

The guard tilted his head to the side with a shrug, a “that’s a good point” sort of gesture. He thought for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “I’m Sidney,” he said.

Zhenya shook it. “Call me Zhenya.”

“Hoo, I don’t know if I can do that.”

“How about just here in the kitchen, and only after midnight?”

“I’ll try.”

Zhenya ate two cookies and washed them down with milk. “Have you been guarding His Highness for long?”

Sidney swallowed. “I’m new. Transferred into the Consort’s detail from the Prime Minister’s.”

“So you transfer in and immediately get stationed halfway across the world?”

This statement was met with a blank look. “That’s why I transferred. I wanted to come. See another place, experience a different kind of life. I’d never left New Scotland before, so when the Earl -- sorry, the Consort -- asked me if I’d like to join his guard, I said yes.”

Zhenya wondered if this new guard would be more amenable to divulging intelligence than his captain was. The consort might be dedicated to the integrity of the embargo, but Zhenya wasn’t above a little snooping. “So you don’t know the Consort very well yet?”

“No, I’ve known him since we were kids. I just never guarded him before.”

“He seems like a good man.”

“That’s not for me to judge.” He hesitated. “But that’s what’s said of him.”

“What does he look like?”

A smirk spread over Sidney’s mouth. “You know I’m not supposed to talk to you about him like that. The embargo and all.”

“Is he handsome? Tell me that much.”

Sidney flushed a little and looked away. Zhenya wondered why he’d find that question embarrassing. “He’s...often told that he is.”

“Hmm. Well, I hope I’ll get to see for myself.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“His mother said he had a lot of marriage proposals.”

Sidney snorted. “Yeah. Most of them boring as shit, or rich people who wanted a spouse with a title.”

“You knew who’d proposed to him?”

“Everyone talked about it. Heck, people were laying bets on who he’d accept.”

“What were my odds?”

Sidney grinned. “Even. Best odds in the pool. I told him he should bet on one of the long shots then pick him, take the money and run off to the country.”

“Not a bad plan.”

He shrugged. “He’s the one who has to marry the guy.” He blinked, hearing what he’d just said. “Sorry. That wasn’t...I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m glad he picked you.”

“No insult taken.” Zhenya ate another cookie. “I hope he’s glad, too.”

Sidney smiled. “Yeah. I think he is.”

Next Chapter

#unveiled #hockey rpf #sidgeno #sidgeno fic #my writing

[the-end-of-the-storm]

GoT 8x01: the wait is over and winter is definitely here - beware the spoilers below -

I just want to say beforehand that I woke up at 2.30 am to watch the new episode - so if this makes no sense at all, well ... let’s blame it on my sleep-deprived brain.

• Don’t know if we already knew this but they actually played the same song from the pilot when D*ny and Jon arrived and it made me a bit melancholic. It’s been a ride.

• The way Missandei eyes the Northerners watching her with distrust had me feel for her. However, watching it for the second time, it gave me another vibe too. As she was a slave, she knows exactly what it means to serve and obey someone you don’t want. So, if Missandei ends up urging D*ny at some point to leave the North be and just rule the other six kingdoms, well, I wouldn’t be surprised.

• Did you notice how happy D*ny was when her dragons intimidated the Northerners? It‘s been a while since I’ve seen her this happy:

This shot is Immediately followed by what has become her signature smug smirk that I dislike so much. Ships aside, a Queen worthy of the title shouldn’t have this kind of reaction to her children imposing fear on her newest subjects who she knows do already not like her all that much. This is like the dragon pit all over again, you know, when she was late to the meeting she demanded, and rode in on a dragon like she already owns the place, when it would have been so much smarter to be a little respectful and humble.

• The Jon and Bran reunion was nice; I suppose as nice at it can get with 3-eyed-Bran. Also, if Jon ever starts looking at D*ny like this, I‘ll start reevaluating him being part of the pack but not a heartbeat before:

• They made Sansa look THIS good for a reason. A sight for sore eyes, isn‘t it Jon?

(And yeah, this is her watching Jonny Boy.)

(And so is this.)

(Now, she’s too busy hugging her man. A smile on her lips and CLOSED eyes ... hmm. Do you see how her hands aren’t even attached to each other yet? Alright, let’s move on, shall we?)

• Lyanna Mormont is the Noorf in a nutshell and I’m here for her angry little girl attitude:

•Sansa isn’t here for chit chat with the saviour and whenever I think I couldn’t stan my girl more, I do. But I’m a bit afraid too, Sansa hates her new Queen amd D*ny KNOWS. 🔥

• Ok, I watched the meeting with the lords very carefully and I made some observations that I just want to throw in here for good measure: 1) D*ny is the last one to sit down at the Lord‘s table and it means things. 2) When poor little Lord Umber (who fucking deserved better!!) adressed Sansa an then Jon, we have them both in the frame, and no one else. However, when he adresses D*ny, we have her literally standing alone by the fireplace. 3) we have Jon and Sansa alone in a frame on 3 separate occasions, while we have only one shoot of Jon and the supposed love of his life alone (unless you count the one with D*ny and Jon‘s crotch ... then, well good for you, I guess). 4) Jon’s “It was the honor of my life.” fucked me the fuck up. You know, I was really afraid after the leaks that although I whole-heartily believe in Pol!Jon I would be miffed at him before it was officially revealed but I was soo wrong. This whole episode I felt so sad for Jon. He’s been through so much and willing to sacrifice everything he ever wanted to keep his people as safe as he can ... he deserves so much better than to be with the woman who took the honor of his life away from him without giving a single fuck about it. And yes, I did notice how Sansa glared at D*ny during this. Jon “I had a choice: keep the crown or protect the Noorf. I chose the Noorf.” I rest my case. 5) “If anyone survives the war to come, we’ll have Jon Snow to thank.” Right in front of D*ny; Tyrion, you brave, brave fool. 6) I think the leaks said, that neither Sansa nor D*ny said anything and I was very happy to find out that that wasn’t true. This is a very long scene, and D*ny only delivered us this little gem: Sansa: “What do dragons eat anyway?” (Which is a damn reasonable enquiry.) “D*ny: “Whatever they want.” 🔥 Maybe I’m overreacting things but this felt like a threat. Seriously, the Dark D*ny Force was strong in this one. They really went there ... wow. I mean it‘s not as if the food question wasn‘t legit. Also this whole the dragons *only* ate 17 goats and 11 of some-other-animal today is proof to me that the food thing is going to be huge. (Also, at first, I thought D*ny was worried that they eat too much when it was the other way around. LOL.)

• Tyrion: “Lady of Winterfell: has a nice ring to it.” Sansa: “So does Hand of the Queen; depends on the queen I suppose.” She really isn’t messing around, is she?

Also Sansa, same scene: “I used to think you are the cleverest man alive.” accompanied by her little judgy smile. She sure knows how to break a man’s heart.

• I’m crossing my fingers for D*ny to suggest to reactivate the Sansa/Tyrion marriage. Let’s be honest, Tyrion would be all for it in a heartbeat. She’s smarter, prettier and old enough that he wouldn’t feel like a creep anymore and now she actually is the Lady of Winterfell. He wanted her before - he must be drooling for her now.

• I was absolutely not disappointed with the Jon/Arya reunion. I thought - considering the circumstances - it was really cute and worthy.

• Arya: “She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.” Stark sister feels. *-*

• Jon‘s „I'm her family, too.“ killed me a little bit inside. Man, my Jon feels are killing me right know. How can anyone see this and still claim that Jon will abandon his pack to become a Targaryen?

• When Sansa is the Queen of Shade, Cercei is the Queen of Smirk. I wonder if there’s anyway for Cercei to get out of this alive.

• Back to the food thing: it‘s been two years since S7, so thanks for the reminder that the Lannister army in the Field of Fire was people too, and were burned up like Sunday roast. 🔥

• I can’t believe that Yara is absolutely not pissed that D*ny couldn’t give less craps about her being abducted by Euron. even though without her Dany couldn’t have crossed the Narrow Sea.

• Alys Karstark, I see you and your red hair and your complete random appearance that served no plot purpose. Yet.

• Davos “What if the Seven Kingdoms (...) were ruled by a just woman and an honorable man.” I see what you did there, D&D. Also, if you guys are contemplating a J/D marriage, could you please have the decency and do it in front of Sansa? I need that. Thanks x

• If D&D wanted be to stop believing in Pol!Jon they shouldn’t have him happy-riding a dragon and kissing D*ny seconds after having her low-key threatening his sister. It’s just not believable that if this romance was real and between equals that he wouldn’t make it clear that she can’t threaten his family. Dany: “She doesn’t need to be my friend but I am her queen. If she can’t respect me ...” Jon: *then perish*

• Ok, but seriously D*ny, why would you give the guy you’ve just met and whose family and people despise you access to the the very things that gave you all your power? Why would you suggest dragon riding like it means nothing? Hop on, Jonny Boy. Just no. I have soo many questions. Why would you be so careless? (Arrogance, that’s why.)

• JON DOESN’T SAY “WE COULD STAY HERE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS.” But Pol!Jon replies with “We’d be pretty old.” giving no indication that that would be an enticing thought. No, he’d rather go back and fight some wights. Jon has a family he cares about and I don’t think she can relate at all.

•Rheagal is a creeper. Seriously, did you see the full on of him during the J/D snagging. Get a life, Rhaegal!

• I LOVED the Tent 2.0 Scene. Get my son some air. Also, while Jon talks serious stuff, Sansa’s like “No, she’s much prettier (than the Mad King).” with the same gaze she had when Littlefinger told her that a marriage alliance between J/D would make sense. I think it was the same weird voice too, but I’m not 100% sure right now. Jon really does reply nothing after Sansa questioning his motives for bending the knee and it tells me all I need to know.

• On this note, I want to repeat that I really need someone suggest a J/D marriage to Sansa.

• Sam finding out about his father and especially his brother broke my heart. It was everything I wanted and knew his reaction to be. And it was much worse to watch unfold than the leaks made it out to be. Especially since the scene started out really cute with Sam all nervous to be talking to them and cute about his book-stealing past and then he even tries to stay reasonable after hearing about his father but then he learns about his brother ... and it’s just too fucking much. Look at his face. I never ever cry during shows or movies but if I hadn't been prepared beforehand, I probably would have.

• Bran needs to stop staring at people in the courtyard. Just sayin’.

• Jon and Sam in the crypts. My poor babies. I don’t really want to say anything about their talk at this point because I believe in Jon and his agenda and if he needs to be detached to deal with keeping up the facade, then my man needs to do what he needs to do. However, I will be watching his next interaction with Sansa very closely. OK, to be honest, since I already had read the leaks before the episode, I was a little distracted during the parentage reveal and I couldn’t help but imagine Jon thinking “Well, this explains a fucking lot.”

• Last but not least: JAIME IS IN WINTERFELL!!!

My favorite moments:

- The Tarly Reveal

- Jon x Arya Reunion

- all Jonsa scenes

- Sansa and Tyrion on the battlements

On my threatened-to-be-burned watchlist:

🔥 Sansa Stark

🔥 Lyanna Mormont

🔥 Lord Varys

🔥 Samwell Tarly

🔥 Gendry Waters / Baratheon

🔥 JAIME LANNISTER (I have a hard time imagining Jaime to keep his mouth shut when he realizes that D*ny doesn’t just fry up soldiers in battle but that it’s her favorite method of conducting justice. There is too much history and PTSD between them, they’re like a time bomb; you can’t put them under one roof without at least threatening to set it off.)

All in all, this was such a good episode and I’m thrilled to see what’s to come. I’m so happy that Jon is still all I hoped for him to be inside and that Jonsa is still on track. I was even a little surprised at how they portrayed D*ny in this episode, because D&D aren’t even trying anymore, are they? I might be a little biased but I think if you’re not a full on stan there wasn’t much to root for her in this one. Anyways, everything within the episode fitted neatly with our Pol!Jon, Dark!D*ny and Jonsa theories and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Cheers xxx

#got spoilers #jonsa #jon snow #Sansa Stark #dark!dany #anti-daenerys #Jon x Sansa #season 8 spoilers

[celestial-depths]

Harry Potter has always been much less progressive than its fandom: a retrospective

In June 2020, Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling decided to use her platform to devalue trans people by ridiculing a headline with trans-inclusive language and going on to spout hateful nonsense like insisting that recognizing trans women as real women makes the experiences of cis women somehow less valid. I’m not going to repeat her baseless arguments here because I’m not really interested in picking them apart, as more qualified commentators than me have already done that, and doing so would be like throwing rocks at a house of cards anyway. Instead, I want to reflect on the fan reaction to her statements. The response has been overwhelmingly negative, with many fans expressing feelings of disappointment and surprise over her choice to further vilify a group of people who are already marginalized and vulnerable to violence and discrimination. I was disappointed, too, but, sadly, not surprised. Not because this isn’t the first time in recent history when Rowling has aligned herself with TERFs, but because I think her writing and interviews have always suggested that her politics are way more regressive and conservative than what most of her fans may have assumed. Me and Harry Potter go way back. I’m in my thirties now, and I remember reading the first two books at the age of eleven, just before the global Harry Potter hype had really taken off. In fact, I may have been among the last wave of readers who got to start the series without the faintest idea what the books were even about. At the time, I had a habit of reading books without checking out the blurbs first because I enjoyed the feeling of diving into a story and being taken completely by surprise, so I didn’t even know that wizards were involved when I started reading. I couldn’t have been at more perfect an age to discover the books. For pre-teen readers like me, they were the perfect mix of escapism and relatability. It was wild adventures and magic combined with the everyday reality of a school-aged child, which is probably why I felt more connected to it than I did with other fantasy books I also enjoyed, such as The Lord of the Rings. Harry would learn spells and fight dragons in one chapter and worry about homework and making friends in the next one, which was why it was always easier for a kid like me to daydream about going to Hogwarts than it was to imagine fighting orcs in Middle-Earth (sidenote: this is also why I was never a big fan of the HP movies; they kept the exciting highlights but they left out the slice-of-life parts, which instantly made them seem less relatable to me). My generation also got to grow up with the series. I read the first book at 11, and the final one was released when I was 19, so I was always roughly the same age as Harry during my first read of each book. But by the time I read that final chapter, I was no longer as enamored with the series as I used to be – not because I’d grown bored with the series, but because its politics had started to worry me over the years. I didn’t like the story it was telling between the lines, and I certainly didn’t like the note it ended on. I wasn’t really involved in the fandom during my first years of being a fan of the series, but I did step into it around the time Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was released. I was fifteen, I was extremely excited about the release of the first new HP book in three years, and I soon found myself spending hours in fan message boards speculating about future plot twists and discussing my favorite characters. The fandom had its flaws – you don’t know the meaning of the word “petty” unless you’ve witnessed the absolutely brutal fights adult human beings in the HP fandom had over their Hermione Granger shipping preferences – but overall the community was inclusive and open-minded. The fans were a diverse bunch of people who generally seemed to agree that the world of HP was as progressive as they were, since the main message most of them picked up from the books was that one should not discriminate anyone based on the qualities they were born with. I agreed with that reading of the books for a long time, but as I grew up I began to pay closer attention to what the books were actually depicting and what it was leaving out altogether, and I eventually started to wonder whether the series was progressive as it was made out to be. The story was seemingly preaching a message of inclusion, yet all the characters were straight (no, Dumbledore doesn’t count because his sexual orientation was never brought up in the books), cis, and able-bodied, and non-white characters were barely there. What is there to be inclusive about when there’s hardly any real diversity among the very, very vast cast of characters, especially not among the main heroes? Moreover, HP’s way of using non-human characters as metaphors for discrimination yielded very questionable results. The series used house-elves as a metaphor for slavery, yet it ends with the conclusion that the enslavement of house-elves was only wrong when they were treated cruelly, and that they actually preferred slavery to freedom, which was why Hermione was depicted as being silly for fighting for their emancipation. That’s a load of yikes. Werewolves, the series’ metaphor for the HIV positive, were violent, tragic, and uncontrollable, which is... also not great. And don’t even get me started on the books’ take on goblins, who bore extremely uncomfortable resemblance to antisemitic caricatures. The series built a hierarchy between species and used it to address real-life inequality between groups of people, but it never dismantled or even properly questioned that hierarchy, In fact, the biases towards and unequal treatment of other species was ultimately made to seem natural and right. So, there’s that. The books were also littered with awful fatphobia, which doesn’t comply with the anti-discrimination message by any means, and the apparent importance of personal choices and accomplishments got lost by the final two books. For instance, the penultimate book explores Voldemort’s origins and concludes that he was simply born evil, either because he lacked a mother’s love or because he was born from a loveless union (a rape, if we’re being specific, though the books doesn’t recognize it as such, and that’s a whole another can of problematic worms). I don’t even have the time to unpack all the twisted ideas about gender roles that plot point suggests, but my main point here is that it seems like Voldemort never chose to be evil, and apparently neither did his followers, as most of them seem to be villains because they were sorted into Slytherin, or that they were sorted into Slytherin because they were already villainous. At the age of 11. Even the two Slytherins who actively choose to do the right thing in the end (Draco and Snape) do so out of cowardice (Draco) or selfishness (Snape). Meanwhile, as the series progresses Harry’s goodness is less and less predicated by his actions and more based on the virtue of simply being the Chosen One, all the way up to the point where Harry ends up resorting to torture and mind-control – two of the three “unforgivable“ acts as determined by a previous installment in the series – and suffering absolutely no consequences, because he is the hero and nothing the hero does can be bad. The world of Harry Potter, which steers towards being morally ambiguous around the midpoint of the series, ends up being disappointingly black-and-white and deterministic by the end. Choice ends up having very little to do with anything. And then there’s the gender issue, which bothered me most of all. The series exhibits very old-fashioned and restrictive gender roles without ever really questioning them, throws around casual sexism, and it paints a really appalling picture of femininity through its overly sentimental, subservient, frivolous female characters, whose only motivation for doing anything is far too often devotion to a male character or their children, and who are always defeated by their pesky female emotions. Rowling is a self-declared feminist, and I distinctly remember this one writing of hers where she was congratulating herself for championing characters like Hermione Granger over characters like Pansy Parkinson, and that’s her view of feminism I guess? Putting down one female character in favor of another? Pitting women up against each other, urging them to be good girls instead of bad girls – doing all that instead of paying attention to the structural, cultural, ideological reasons why gender expectations and inequality are harmful? Honestly, I don’t think that HP is pro-women at all; the female characters lack agency and are constantly sidelined in favor of male characters, and the series valorizes a very narrow view of womanhood that’s obsessively centered around motherhood and sacrifice.   Overall, the HP series seem to idealize this aesthetically and ideologically old-timey view of society where the world is unrealistically white and straight, and where static hierarchies prevail. The story does not end in a revolution, rebellion, or reform because the story isn’t really about progression; it’s about following traditions and preserving pre-existing power structures. The epilogue of the series really hammers down this point: in the final chapter, the main characters have grown up, married their (white) childhood sweethearts, assumed the roles and biases of their parents and named their kids after their dead relatives, joyfully returning to the origin point of a cycle that brought death and destruction into their world as if there was never anything wrong with that cycle to begin with. So, yeah. I’m not really shocked to see J.K. Rowling expressing awful opinions about trans people because the world of HP was already built upon a whole bunch of awful, traditionalist ideas. As a teen, I’d been read the series through the hopeful lens of my own set of values, but by the time that final book was released, I’d become disillusioned with Rowling and the series, and I no longer took HP for the forward-looking, inclusive story I had made it up to be. I didn’t stop liking certain aspects of the books, but I did stop thinking of Rowling as someone to look up to. For some time, I hoped that Rowling was simply misguided and that she would eventually listen, learn, and rethink. But she keeps proving herself as someone who absolutely refuses to see past her privileged, white, and straight point of view despite all of her resources, and who has inexplicably chosen to crusade against trans women, of all the people in the universe, as if the world wasn’t already hostile enough towards them. So, fuck her. But you know what? The HP fandom doesn’t have to take its cues from J.K. Rowling. The fans don’t have to condone her discriminatory views or agree to read her books in the light of her backward politics. They’ve never done that. From Wolfstar to Black Hermione and from Gay Draco to Trans Snape, the fandom has always been a nurturing environment for fan interpretations that aim to add diversity and complexity to the books, whether Rowling agrees or not. Long live the headcanon. (The fans have also learned to tune out Rowling’s unnecessary comments when they feel like it. Two words: wizard poop. That alone should suggest that the things she says aren’t always worthy of anyone’s attention.)

#harry potter #jk rowling