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#the fact that they were so alike yet could never read each other's minds
handsomelyerin · 2 years
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claudia & lestat + on mothers and daughters
"my infant death. it was never you." bailey bass & sam reid in interview with the vampire (2022) cr. by rolin jones // 1. this post // 2. this post // 3. piss river - kevin morby // 4. a mother's hate - sam gordon // 5. elektra - sophocles // 6. on earth we're briefly gorgeous - ocean vuong // 7. unknown // 8. nayyirah waheed // 9. susan smith - wych elm // 10. unknown // 11. elektra - sophocles // 12. the ghost is dead, long live the ghost - mara avoth // 13. this post // 14. this post // 15. love drought - beyonce // 16. confessions - ijeoma umebinyuo // 17. unknown // 18. mother - john lennon
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homisexual11 · 3 months
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Risk I’m Willing To Take (Jasper Hale X Alice Cullen X Reader)
WC:4.0K
Warnings: Mentions of blood… vampirism? Mostly fluff.
Summary: You’re new in Forks and become close with a couple… you find out what they are, fall in love, and… yeah.
Being a human in Forks was common; being a human in Forks who became friends with the Cullens… not as much. With the risks that everyone had to take, the Cullens and the humans alike would stay away. Well, the humans would if they understood. They would have stayed away from you if they could have, they really would have… but then Alice had a vision. She saw you. She saw you, someone they had never met before, coming into their lives. A human. She didn’t see you the same way she saw Bella originally, there was something different about you. She assumed it was just the fact that you weren’t going to be romantically involved with anyone, but she couldn’t have been more wrong.
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As they got closer to meeting you, she told Jasper all about you. All about what she would see. She saw you becoming best friends with her and Jasper specifically, even closer than Bella was to them. (Which wasn’t saying too much, but still…) Jasper could feel the excitement radiating off her, he could almost feel the same way about you just because of her. He had reservations, worried about becoming close with another human, so close after they met Bella, but when they saw you for the first time, it all felt better.
Your father was in the military and had been assigned to Fairchild AFB in the middle of the school year. It wasn’t particularly close to Forks, but your parents thought Forks was a good place to move and only thirty minutes away from the base. It was a small town, but you didn’t mind it. It was better than living on base. When you stepped in for Junior year on that first day, Alice almost exploded. She couldn’t believe she was finally seeing you, her new best friend… even if you didn’t know it yet. Jasper didn’t calm her down, even if he was almost overwhelmed with how happy she was. They were in three of your classes each, both were in English with you, but Jasper was in your Science and History, while Alice was in your Math and Art.
Jasper ended up meeting you first, not expecting when you walked into History at the beginning of the day. When he heard your name, his head shot up. Well, everyone did, but their reason was not expecting someone new. Then… he needed to get out of there. As if high school wasn’t hard enough for him, hundreds of beating hearts with blood pumping through them… that blood, no, YOUR blood was almost enough to drive him insane. He couldn’t walk out then, he couldn’t make a scene… he had to sit through the rest of that class, finally realizing what having a singer was like.
You weren’t nervous that whole day, but you were quiet. You kept to yourself, something Jasper could understand. You were an introvert, much like him. Edward could hear his thoughts, part of him being nervous about the logistics of being around someone who he wanted to drain more than anything else, the other part of him wondering exactly what your blood would taste like. Jasper could feel Edward being nervous about this, he had heard a little bit about you from Alice, but not nearly as much as the blonde. Jasper had been holding his breath the whole day, and he almost let something slip… he was eager for more of you, but he knew if he took a breath, he would lose it.
You got lucky enough to sit in the back, right next to Edward. You were going to become better friends than expected, even if he didn’t say anything to you yet. You had most of your classes with him, and although you were both quiet, you got along in the silence. History, science, math, and art. (I haven’t read Midnight Sun yet, I don’t know what classes he took but I feel like he would take art. I think every one of the Cullens would take art, but that’s probably just me) You got lucky, Edward was part of the reason Jasper didn’t find a way to drain you that first day. He got a smile from you as you sat down next to him, and immediately just paid attention to the lesson.
Your next class was English, poor Jasper couldn’t catch a break, but at least he had Alice with him. When Alice heard your name for the first time, she was going insane. Jasper held her hand under the table to keep her from running up to you and suffocating you in a hug. She knew so much about you already, and she was so happy to finally see you in person. There was a slight problem, though… the way your blood smelled. The vampire lovers had both managed to find their singer. Alice knew she could deal with it, even if it were hard… she would tell Jasper about it later at home, and everything would be fine.
You found that in English, you had a ton of free time, and the teacher was laid back enough to let people move around and do whatever they wanted after the lesson was finished. You would have been content to sit there on your own when one pixie-haired girl came up to you. “I’m Alice,” she said, giving you her hand to shake. Jasper was even surprised at her eagerness.
“Y/N,” you said, shaking her hand but feeling a little awkward about it. Her hand was freezing, but you knew better than to jump back or flinch.
“I know,” she said without thinking, then trying to fix it, “I heard it when our teacher introduced you, and I think my boyfriend is in your History class. His name is Jasper, I don’t know if you know him or not, but you’re the talk of the entire town. Hasn’t been like this since Bella moved here. Ooh! Have you met her? She’s actually really sweet, if a little awkward.”
She had immediately felt like your best friend, even if you didn’t understand it. Jasper subtly used his gift, something he didn’t think through very much, just to make you a little more comfortable. He wouldn’t normally do something like that, especially not to a human he barely knew… well, technically barely knew, but he didn’t want to have to watch Alice humiliate herself. You had no choice but to feel okay, and when he left he tried his best to take it away without you having a drop.
The rest of that day sped by, and your new friend… well, technically friends (they’re a package deal) ensured you had someone to be around all day. You didn’t mind their presence–even without Jasper using his gift on you, which he didn’t use for the rest of the day–and found it comforting. Alice told you about their family, and as she did you looked around. There was a blonde girl, you soon found out her name was Rosalie, who kept staring at you. She didn’t like you much, and Alice explained that she didn’t like many people and that she didn't mean anything by it. She was Jasper’s twin. You could see a little bit of resemblance, but nothing too crazy.
Weeks passed, leading to months, and you had grown close to almost all of the Cullens. Rosalie learned to accept you, despite her earlier reservations. You knew something was off about all of them, but you never brought it up. You were happy to have friends; you would never have discovered their secret if it weren’t for Bella Swan. She was in PE with you, and even though you rarely ever spoke, you were friends by association with the Cullens. You had both managed to roll your ankle on the same day, so you could sit out.
“You’re Edward’s girlfriend, right?” She asked you.
“Umm.. it’s complicated,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear for what seemed like the millionth time in that class period alone. “But you know how things are with the vampires…”
“Vampires, huh?” You thought she was kidding at first, but when you saw the look of panic on her face everything clicked. She tried to come up with some bullshit excuse, but you weren’t for it. She begged you not to say anything, which further proved it. She was either crazy, or your best friends were vampires. Either one was very likely when you thought about it, and they honestly weren’t mutually exclusive.
As soon as you had that conversation, Alice had a vision. She hadn’t seen this one coming, it was out of the blue. She saw you coming to their house after school, and only one other thing was clear… vampire. It didn’t make much sense, but she figured it out. And if she was right… there was a problem. She looked over at Edward who seemed to understand. They both came up with a plan to leave class, and grab Jasper on the way out. Edward could just barely hear your thoughts as you ran into the bathroom, they weren’t the only ones who were making an excuse to leave.
You tried to tell yourself that you were being overdramatic; how could your best friends be vampires? You weren’t superstitious, and you didn’t believe in things like that. You decided to tell your teacher you had been sick and go home, once school was over you would sneak out and go to the Cullen’s. You didn’t think it was the smartest, but you needed some time to think.
Your plan worked, both of your parents were working so they couldn’t be home. Everything would work out, leaving you to spiral. As soon as it was 2:45, you got in your car and drove straight to the Cullens. You knocked on the door, Carlisle answering. “Hello, Y/N, may I ask what you’re here for?”
“I need to talk to Alice,” you said. You barely noticed yourself, but you were almost shaking.
“That eager, huh?” He notes. “Well, come in. I think she’s up in her room with Jasper, but I can go get them–”
“Dr. Cullen, I think it’s best if I go up to see them.”
“Y/N–”
“I’m sorry, but I promise, it’ll be fine. I’m sure they won’t mind, sir.”
He hesitantly let you inside, and you thanked him before running up and knocking on the door. “Come in,” you heard someone say.
You walked into the room and Alice immediately stood up. You both looked at each other, no one wanting to say the first thing. Jasper just stared his usual stare. After a minute of awkward silence, you could only get one word out. “Vampire?”
Out of the many things you wanted to say, all you could get out was one word. Everyone in the house heard it, yet no one said a word. Alice finally looked down. “Y/N…”
“I’m sorry, I… maybe Bella is just crazy, and I’m as crazy for believing her. This was stupid, I should have left this be–”
“Y/N,” Jasper spoke this time. As soon as he spoke you felt a little more calm. He knew he was going to regret anything he said, everyone in the house would… but dammit, if Bella already said something their only choice would be to tell you or leave you thinking you were insane and never speak to you again. “You’re not crazy.”
“No, Jasper, I’m–”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Alice assured. “You aren’t crazy. Bella… that’s a different story.”
You laughed a little, but it didn’t last very long. Jasper looked over at Alice, and then Edward walked into the room unannounced. You thought it was because of the Bella comment, but he didn’t say anything about it. He nodded towards Alice, before walking right back out.
Alice walked up to you and touched your arm gently. “You can leave right now if you want to, but if you do that… we won’t talk to you again. Or, you can come downstairs with us and…” she sighs, looking over at Jasper. “Is this worth it?”
“I don’t know,” he says. He couldn’t look at you, even if he so desperately wanted to. “This is risky, telling her…”
“So I’m right,” you said.
“It would be impressive, had Bella not told you,” was Jasper’s response.
“So… you guys are vampires?”
Alice looked up at you. “Let’s go downstairs, I think everyone is already waiting…”
You didn’t know what was going on, but you let her lead you downstairs with Jasper following behind. Just as she said, every one of the Cullens was waiting, and Bella was right behind Edward. Alice kept a supporting hand on you the entire time as Jasper stood right next to her. “Another human?” Emmett asked. He seemed pleasantly surprised.
Alice nodded, and at that same time, her face went blank for at least fifteen seconds. Jasper put an arm on her, “What did you see, hon?”
“Nothing,” she says, it was a lie. She had seen something that put some things into perspective. She had seen all of you getting together, you, her, and Jasper. “It’s too far away, it wasn’t clear enough yet.”
Edward tensed but he didn’t say anything.
“Well,” Carlisle began. “I guess she deserves an idea of what’s going on right now.”
“You’re vampires?” You half-asked, half-said. You could see Rosalie glaring at Edward and Bella, only for Carlisle to speak again.
“Rosalie, it’s alright,” Carlisle tried to assure her.
“She would have found out anyways, Rose,” Edward told her. Ever the Bella defender, “Bella just sped up the process.”
“It was an accident,” Bella tried to say, but Edward gave her a look that told her not to speak.
“We’re not mad at you, Bella,” Esme smiled. She walked up to you and tucked your hair behind your ears. “We aren’t mad at you, either. I hope you know that.”
You didn’t exactly know what to say, so you nodded.
“Considering previous events, it goes unsaid that you know. Yet I still feel the need to say it, Y/N. We are vampires, yes. Now that you know this, there are some… conditions,” everyone seemed nervous as Carlisle spoke, Alice unintentionally tightened her grip on you just short of bruising. “You cannot tell anyone what you know, not your mother, not your father, not your closest friends. I wish you would have had a chance to back out rather than what is going on now, everything you know is at risk now.”
You nodded, so he continued. “It’s not all bad, though. Now there aren’t secrets around here anymore,” he was purposefully avoiding the elephant in the room. The fact that they needed blood. Edward read your thoughts.
“Carlisle,” he says, and the doctor sighed but forced a smile.
“You want to know about the… blood issue?” Jasper tensed, and Alice put her other arm on him.
“Blood issue, he calls it,” Emmett snickered, Rosalie smacked him in the gut to shut him up.
“We don’t drink human blood,” Carlisle explained. “I’d be happy to explain later, whenever you ask. For some of us…” he glances in your direction, with Jasper staring down at the floor. “It’s harder than with the others. You needn’t worry.”
“Do you just not want blood…?” You asked, it was a stupid question.
“No, not exactly,” he told you. “We all want it, but it’s easier the longer you’re around it. We live off animal blood, we’re what you could call… vegetarians. Just the vampire equivalent of it.”
You nodded. It was quiet for a moment, before you asked something again, “What… um.. Happened with Alice a second ago?”
“Some vampires are gifted,” Carlisle responds. “Technically, all of us are. Some of us are more obvious than others. Mine, for example, is on the more subtle side… compassion. I have a better ability to resist blood than some others, hence why I’m in the medical field. Edward is a mind reader, on the more apparent side. Alice can see the future, she has premonitions.”
You stayed quiet. “I’m sorry you have to know this,” Esme says quietly. “I wish, much like the rest of us, that you would have had a choice…”
“It’s okay, Alice told me I could’ve walked away…” you said when you thought about it and looked over at her and realized something. Whether it was just a feeling for the moment or something that would stay, you were in love.
“We wanted to give her a… level of a choice, even if it was just two extremes,” Jasper said. You looked at him and felt the same thing you felt towards Alice. You saw him tense up for a second before he pretended to be okay.
“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t have said that Bella was crazy and walked away,” Rosalie rolled her eyes. “All of this could have been avoided.”
“Rosalie,” Carlisle says. “Y/N is part of our family now, like Bella.”
“Why don’t we invite the whole town… better yet the whole state into our ‘family’ while we’re at it!” She says. She wasn’t yelling, more like stating in an aggressive and loud tone. Emmett grabbed her hand and they walked to their room together. Bella looked ashamed, but it wasn’t much different than the way she normally looked.
“I’m sorry if I’m causing turmoil,” you said.
“Don’t apologize, my love,” Esme says. “Like Carlisle says, you’re a part of our family now.”
Carlisle smiled. “Do you have any other questions?”
“Not yet… I don’t think,” you said.
“Well, I’ll let you go then. My door is always open if you need anything.” Carlisle went to his office, Esme kissed your cheek before going into the kitchen, and Edward and Bella both went to his room, leaving you and your best friends in the room together.
“I’m sorry,” Alice said. “But at least now there aren’t any secrets.”
“Right,” you forced a smile. “No secrets.”
You weren’t going to say anything yet; you would probably never say anything if you were being honest. Having feelings for a boy was one thing, it was another to have feelings for both that boy and his girlfriend. If you had found out what Jasper's gift was then, you would have run away and forgotten all about that, even if it could very well get you killed.
“This is such a risk,” Jasper says quietly.
“Jas, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you tell him. “Y’all have been my only friends since I moved here, and pretty much the best friends I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
A couple of months passed, and you hoped that feeling would go away… but it didn’t. Every day you fell a bit more for your two best friends. Jasper could sense it, and Alice would get visions, but neither wanted to say anything until you did. They spoke to each other about it frequently and agreed to wait for you to say something. They would wait years if you needed, decades even. They started to fall for you too, not just the idea of you… but you in who you were. They fell for you, your flaws, and your perfections. It wasn’t conventional, but they didn’t care.
You never would have said anything, not until a certain conversation with Edward. You had grown close to him, which was weird to both of you. But he started to feel like an older brother to you, and so did Emmett. The topic of conversation had been how Alice and Jasper got together, leading to you finding out exactly what Jasper’s gift was. Manipulating and… feeling emotions. Your heart sank and you told him you needed to leave, but he knew exactly what was going on. He didn’t stop you.
This was exactly what Alice had envisioned when they were telling you about vampires. It somehow had managed to stay the same, only now, she had more of a view on your future as well.
How you had managed to be friends with them for as long as you had, and never found out what Jasper’s gift was… you don’t know. You debated, once again, leaving and running away. But… something told you not to. You needed to go see them, needed to talk to them. You slowly walked over there, knocking on the door. “Y/N!” She says, hugging you. “What’s up?”
You didn’t say anything, just walked in there. They didn’t mind, you were close enough. Jasper could sense your nervousness and… well, a bunch of other emotions that you couldn’t figure out. “Do you want to talk?” He asked gently, coming to sit down closer to you.
“You can feel emotions,” you said.
“Yes,” he said. “I can, in fact, feel emotions. What about it?”
“So you’ve…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.
He luckily understood. “You mean your personal feelings? Yes, I have.” You were embarrassed. “Don’t worry, it’s normal… I guess.”
“Does she know?” You asked, glancing over at Alice.
“She was the first one to know,” he told you. She nodded. “She knew before you knew. I found out as soon as you did, and so did Edward. He mentioned it once, and never again.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, playing with your fingers.
“Don’t apologize, it’s alright,” Alice said, smiling and taking one of your hands gently. She did stuff like that a lot, but this felt strangely intimate.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We didn’t want to embarrass you, we know a lot has been going on recently,” Jasper tells you. “This is a complicated situation, we didn’t want to add to the stress.”
“But you’ve known,” you said. They nodded. “I can leave.”
“Please don’t,” Alice said. “Y/N… I’ve seen it. I’ve seen a future with all three of us, where we’re together. It’s in no way conventional, and obviously, there are some… issues, but we can make it work. I know we can. We both love each other so much, but we also love you.”
“If you’ll have us, darlin’,” Jasper says. “We want you to be ours.”
You were almost speechless. Was this really happening? Was this just a cruel dream? Jasper comes to kneel in front of you, Alice sitting beside you. “You mean it?” You ask.
“Yes,” Alice smiles.
“But you need to understand, this is even more a risk than just being friends with us. I don’t mean to worry you, but this is a big deal, Y/N,” Jasper tells you. “I can’t let you go on without you understanding it.”
“I know, Jasper. And… it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
He smiled, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to it. The little gesture made you turn pink, and he smiled. That was about as far as he could go, he would need a break from humans for a minute after you left. He went to sit back down a little further away from you. He had grown close to you as a friend and was fine, but now there was more to it. But somehow... It felt like it was getting easier.
Alice looked at you, she could deal with a bit more than he could, but she didn’t know what you were ready for. She kissed your cheek softly, intertwining your fingers with the hand she was holding.
You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy; it would tear you apart every day. You didn’t complain though, even with the dangers. You loved them, and they loved you… and that made this a risk you were willing to take
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prettyyyathieee · 9 months
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✧˖°.Rin Itoshi Is Your Unpursued Love.✧˖°.
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A/n : Have any of you guys had a crush that you never confessed to? Yeah this is kinda inspired by true events that I never got over but yk what? I feel like Rin is the type of person to be like this.
Warnings ⚠️: Curse words! Very much angsty!
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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi liked your best friend first.
Nobody knew but Rin Itoshi had a crush on your best friend. Who didn’t? She was the happy-go-lucky type that befriended everyone. She had the energy you could never match. She was the golden retriever girl that always saw the best in people, that always knew to comfort and feel their feelings.
She was the girl who would not stop pestering the cold and passive Rin Itoshi who never wanted to be bothered. And just like that, he caught feelings for a girl that would give him more happiness than he deserved.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi was miserable.
From the sidelines you watch as the boy fell deeper and deeper, only able to notice because silence had things that were never achievable in the slightest noise. The way he would always notice she was near, the upturned smirk as he threw a small dig at her jokingly, something he never did to anyone. You had thought something very big was unfolding, and you were right. although, for the wrong reason.
Your best friend got a boyfriend. You felt pity for him. You knew since the first day about the guy but thought nothing of it. By this point, everyone knew Rin Itoshi had feelings for your best friend. After all, what kind of person throws punches at walls and picks fights with random people in the hallway after someone loudly teased your best friend about her supposed boyfriend.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi is the most talented person you know.
He was good at a lot of things if he tried. Hard emphasis on the “if” because he never tried in anything except soccer. He lived and breathed soccer, and everyone would be damned if he didn’t because that kind of talent only ever came once in a century. Nevertheless, there were days he tried. 
Like when he passed a project for your art class, a beautiful canvass of something only the great Claude Monet could ever paint. Like when he began to be a little competitive for a group contest just because he didn’t want to be on the losing group and leading his team to victory, and of course nobody could ever forget the famous debate that ended after the first 30 seconds because he had said the most damning words that made everyone question if he had a religion.
Yet, you knew most out of everyone how insecure he was, perhaps even more than your best friend because once again, you were loved by silence. You knew of the fact that he thought he was the least deserving person when it comes to your best friend when every girl in your class would fight each other for his attention. How he looked up to his older brother so much that he sometimes stalks his social media accounts, how he believed he was truly lacking, truly undeserving of many things because he wasn’t enough for him.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi noticed you because of your similarity with your best friend.
Your best friend wouldn’t be your best friend without the same interests and hobbies. When he started reading these deep romance novels that hooked him into reading for hours, you were the first to give him recommendations. How you had such an understanding and kind view towards everyone, even those who wronged you. How you had the same mannerisms as your best friend that he could bet it was influenced by one another.
He saw how driven you were, he admired your passion towards everything you set your mind to. He knew it was genuine because he saw the fire in your eyes that he could see in himself in the mirror, that he could see in his teammates and opponents alike. 
But perhaps, you were far more passionate than him.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi admired you from afar
Sitting at the back of your best friend’s chair, he focused on your happy smiling face as you and your best friend conversed about the mistakes in your exam. You looked back and noticed him, the same exact upturned smirk. 
“What is it?” You asked, still smiling.
He shook his head, turning to face his own exam.
As you had established a more subtle and formal relationship with Itoshi after your best friend did, you couldn’t help but notice the way he’d be around you more. Picking you as his group member, which he always excused as you were the type to be hardworking, then always wanting to sit beside you, which he also excused as ‘you’re quiet, less disruptive than everyone here’, before plugging his earphones and leaning on his table.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi gave your best friend a chance.
It didn’t happen within a snap of a finger, a month or two passed and your best friend was going through a break up. Why didn’t it affect her like those in the movies was a question you always asked yourself. But you already knew the answer, you just didn’t want to believe it. 
It also happened when you were absent, sick as a dog in your room. 
Even so, Rin Itoshi was…happy. Everyone knew of the break up, and everyone knew of Rin’s feelings. So that happened. 
The day you were finally well enough to go to school, though a bit late, they weren’t present. It was then that you caught word that they were out on a date. 
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi never knew how to approach you.
Everything he did to get close to you was always dismissed as him trying to befriend you for your best friend or because everybody knew you were the kind of person that was hard to hate. So instead, your every interaction had a purpose– a business-like approach. He didn’t go out of his way to make things easier for you or talked to you about your interests and hobbies because he just didn’t know how to. 
You weren’t like your best friend, you weren’t easy smiles, occasional giggles or just have the “approachable vibe" within you. You didn’t approach him that much either, just for necessities which made him believe he could never catch your attention.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi was the farthest thing from slick
Him and your best friend weren’t together officially. Far from it actually, there were no boundaries or talking of feelings at all. They just acknowledged each other as someone they want to spend time with.
Yet why was it that whenever you were alone outside of the room he would catch himself sitting outside as well. Why was it that when you both were in the room, you were the first and last person he would look for. Why was it that he looked for your name in every class event, groupings and projects.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi never confessed.
It continued until the end of the school year. As a graduating student and moving places for a college nowhere near you, it was probably the last time you would meet some of your classmates.
As a graduating student who had no need for college after being recruited into a national youth team for soccer, Rin Itoshi was destined for big things. 
As the day came closer and closer, you hoped to god there was some sort of closure, some sort of words that needed to be said, some goddamn f*cking spine to have one last moment with him.
Alas, Rin Itoshi never confessed that he liked you more than your best friend.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi did not have you in his small and numbered list.
Diplomas were handed out, medals were clanging on each other, the smell of roses from the bouquets and the money from money sashes was all you could focus on until you saw him in the middle of everyone. Looking directly at you.
You shot him a smile as you left to go find your parents, feeling hurt and distressed.
Rin Itoshi watched as you walked away, quite possibly the first and last time you ever will in his and your life. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret at the thought of still having enough time and chance to run towards you and talk.
Yet it seems he wasn’t destined for you. That was what he thought as he stood like a marble statue in the same area you found him, devoid of emotion. His hands hanging limp from his side and his mouth turning dry. 
He dismissed the wetness of his eyes from the harsh shade of sunlight.
Then he, too, walked away.
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What could have been:
Right outside, after watching you for a couple of minutes take pictures with every person you knew, he found himself walking towards you. With a bouquet in your hand, he watched as a boy, a boy he wasn’t familiar with, had his arms around you, holding a v-shape up with his fingers with a giddy smile on his face, taking a picture with you.
As soon as you both separated, he was quick to grab your wrist and lead you to a place where nobody could hear or see you.
It wasn’t a romantic place at all. It was dark, damp and smelly. You turned your hopeful eyes to him, praying to god it would be something that’ll clear everything up.
Yet he didn’t speak at all. Frustrated, you turned to leave.
To your confusion, you felt something warm and rushed behind you. Then, arms hesitatingly embraced you from behind.
“What about her?” You asked, feeling so dumbfounded yet so comforted at the fact that you were right all along, he like likes you. Just like how you like liked him.
Rin Itoshi buried his face at the top of your head before he spoke “Things between us stopped weeks ago…did she not tell you?���
“...no” you said, breathless and tearing up. Your hands found their way into his, encasing them as if wanting to lock him into this position with you.
Yet you knew what this moment meant. 
Before Rin Itoshi could imprint this moment in his memories he felt something slide through his wrist. Opening his eyes, it was a white bracelet. 
You forcefully remove yourself from his grip. Turning back to look at him properly.
“Goodbye, Rin Itoshi.”
You beamed at him. That was the last time he saw you.
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melonteee · 2 months
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Oda is really good at foreshadowing because, while him having always had a clear complete backstory for each character from the get go isn't so sure, he clearly has character sheets for each of them that highlight the themes to be explored through them and what logically leads them to become who they are today (finding family in strangers for robin : why not bio fam? -> neglect. why realization at enies lobby and not jaya? -> betrayal in the past, needed proof of truthfulness. why this found fam and not another one? -> criminal lifestyle and previous experience of constant exploitation)
Then when he sets up a scene between characters, he takes all of those sheets into account and specifically choses what would make sense to be "revealed"/said between those characters (and in turn to the audience) at this specific point in time in the plot and in the overall story
Ex: Robin and Law's talk about the Will of D. It makes complete sense for both of them to have this talk in the story between each other specifically. Why didn't Robin ask any other D before Law ? The D clan aren't that plentiful when you think about it to the point Robin met 3 of them in her entire life. She didn't know how important it was back then so she never asked Saul. She probably asked Luffy but Luff-man doesn't care about those matters to the point he only found out he even had a dad at 17yo ("sorry Robin"). In short, Law is perfect for the job. And while his information fits at that point in the plot for Robin to uncover, we as an audience aren't ready for it yet.
Alternatively, when those character themes sometimes coincide between different characters, he simply ties them together to avoid redundancy
Bonney is a funny case to me because she was created in a week like most of the non-Strawhat supernovas but Oda made sure that her and these new characters wouldn't interfere or create plotholes with what he's already had in mind while leaving enough leeway to tie them more into the plot if needed. Bonney has the biggest leeway of any supernova because of her devil fruit powers. The fact it changes her age and we were only ever given an estimation means you could technically have her be born at nearly any point in time as well as be the daughter, mother or grandmother to anyone you wish.
Yet she fits so well as Kuma's daughter for a very simple reason: It makes the scene of Kuma sending Perona to Mihawk's island gain a layer of sense that was kinda missing and easily glossed over on a first read. Other than giving a demonstration of what Kuma's abilities could do pre-Sabaody and emphasize how much bigger of a threat he was compared to Moria even if they shared the same title, we never really got WHY Perona was spared like the strawhats were at Sabaody. There wasn't some grand vision to it, no tie to something he was part of like the Revolutionaries, ... So why ? Especially at that point in time where he was slowly but surely losing himself and any tie left to his humanity
But then Bonney comes in and their backstory is revealed. And that's when you begin to notice. You notice that Perona is a pink haired adult woman with a rather childish personality. Notice that her devil fruit can easily be underestimated and holds a lot of potential. Notice that Kuma mechanically asked her a really strange question which lacked an important key setup for it. Notice that the spot on Mihawk's island where he sent her to was safe from danger. And you realize
Perona might have reminded Kuma of someone very very close to him to the point his mind couldn't even fathom harming a look alike.
And chronologically at the time of this encounter, he's only seen Bonney as an adult once back at the Sorbet Kingdom where he ended up fainting at the sight alone
In a strange turn of events, things just fit and we're all happy for it
I have nothing to say you're just spot on about everything here. I am so desperate to see Oda's notes on when he makes arcs and characters for how he puts everything together. I can only hope he's kept all of them so, when One Piece ends, he can release a book with all his concept sketches and character/story plots to see exactly how he does it. I need to see how the gears turn u know
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vodika-vibes · 5 months
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Could you write up a soft moment between Alpha and the reader? They’re both busy and have no time but they want to take a moment to bask and share some quiet with each other before they have to go back to what they were doing before?
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Alright, I decided to roll these three asks into one. So this is a sequel to the Lawsuit oneshot with Alpha-17.
A Moment For Us
Summary: After returning from Coruscant after winning rights for the clones as well as backpay, you thought you'd be less busy. But You've never been busier.
Pairing: Alpha-17 x Lawyer!Reader
Word Count: 792
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
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The war ends and while, in theory, things should have been easier, and less busy, for you. The truth is that things only started getting more and more hectic.
Honestly, you kind of hoped that your work would stop once you managed to convince the Senate to give the clones rights, and back pay, and everything that they’re owed. You feel kind of silly about it now.
Of course you’ll only be busier now.
So busy, in fact, that you and Alpha haven’t been able to spend more than a few moments together since your return to Kamino. Sure, you still sleep next to each other, but he’s been getting up before you and leaving before you get out of bed.
He’s just as busy as you are, you know.
You push your hair out of your face and pull your datapad closer, mumbling under your breath as you read to yourself, effortlessly sidestepping cadets and trainers alike. 
“How are things going?” Master Ti asks as she falls into step next to you, making her strides smaller so as to not overtake you, or make you run to keep up with her.
“Slowly, and quickly at the same time.” You reply, “The backpay is coming from the Palpatine estate, but the more-” You have to throw yourself against the wall to avoid getting run over by an ARC Captain, “-the more the Jedi Investigators dig, the more we’re learning about what Palpatine was up to. And the more we learn, the more compensation the Clones are entitled to.”
“Do you need me to reach out to the Jedi Solicitor-?” Master Ti asks.
“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’m already in contact with them and their army of little paralegal padawans.” You reply, “Have you been able to untangle the tubies from-”
She huffs out a heavy breath, “Not yet.” Something steely enters her gaze, “The Kaminoans won’t kill anymore babies, I swear it. Do try to take a break, my friend. You won’t do anyone good if you work yourself to a burn out.”
“The same goes for you, Shaak.” You remind her.
The older woman smiles, “No need to worry about me. Plo will be joining me in a couple of days.” Her gaze flickers to the side, and her smile grows, “I have to go, good luck.”
You tilt your head at her curious words, but soon put them out of your mind as you turn towards your office, only to yelp when you’re unceremoniously, tugged into an empty classroom.
The door slides shut behind you and your datapad is tugged from your hands and set on the table next to you. And then large hands cup your face, and you blink up at Alpha. 
He smiles at you, something warm and soft in his gaze, as he leans in and bumps his forehead against yours. “Cyar’ika.” He murmurs.
“Alpha,” His name slips from you in a sigh, and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” His eyes close and for a moment the pair of you just exist in each other's presence. “Missed you. Been too long since I’ve been able to just…be with you.”
“We’re busy people,” It’s an explanation, not an excuse, and he knows it based on the way his lips curl, “I missed you too.” You whisper, “Don’t like waking up alone.”
“It’s only until we get all of the kids de-chipped,” Alpha explains, “Unless you’ve found some other, horrifying, thing that we need to fix inside our bodies.”
“Not that I know of.” You murmur, “And…the chip in your head?” You ask, almost hesitantly.
Alpha releases a humorless laugh, “I’m an Alpha, cyare. I didn’t get a chip. Just sped up aging.”
“Oh…I didn’t know.”
“Yeah.” He tilts your head back and brushes his lips against yours, “I’ve started the gene therapy to stop that, it sucks.”
“That’s good?” You ask, standing on your toes to try and catch his lips with yours.
Alpha chuckles and kisses you properly. Once, twice, three times, and then he releases you and presses your datapad back into your hands. “We’re having dinner together tonight.” He says, there’s something heavy in his gaze, and you know it’s a promise, “Be back in the room by 6.”
You smile at him brightly, “It’s a date.”
Alpha brushes your cheek with his thumb, and then takes a step back, “Alright, cyare. Back to the grindstone.”
You take a deep breath, and nod. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Yes.” Alpha’s gaze is heavy with promise, “You will.” And as you step back into the hallway, you know that Alpha will kill anyone who tries to prevent either of you from spending time together tonight.
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starg1rlie · 2 years
Text
𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! (𝗣𝗧 𝟮)
pairing: scaramouche x gn! reader
genre: mild angst
xtra !! notes: so like, i didn't expect to write a part two, but someone brought it up and my mind went on autopilot, so here you go- kinda short?, so apologies before-hand, reader is gender-neutral, (they/them pronouns; reader is called 'miss ultra gaga and eccentric" though)
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dear scaramouche,
you see, all these attacks that i've done to you is just to show how much i care about you. you think that nobody cares or really understand you, not even your own friends, but i care abotu you. so, so much.
i wrote this letter because i wanted to tell you just how much that i like you. you and me, we're practically the same! i'm sure that we were meant to be.
over the past few months that i've spent at school, i've come to realize something: i love you! i really, truly do. and i know that you've always tried to make you get the hint that you don't like me, but i just thought that i'd tell you this.
we're a lot more alike than you think. i know we might seem so different and stark in contrast with each other, but i think otherwise. you understand, don't you? there's a lot of bad things in the world, but if i think about leaving it all, well, i suppose i wouldn't want that to happen either.
i heard you talking to your mother that night. i know how forceful she sounded to you. and i understand it as well. my mom, well, you probably already know the story, don't you? my step-mom came into the picture and i was just forced to keep smiling and pretending that everything was okay and that our family wasn't literally falling to pieces.
your mom should understand why you want to make your own decisions; she can't decide everything for you, just because she gave birth to you.
i will most likely get rejected, won't i? it's pretty stupid, now that i'm thinking about it. me, writing a letter to you? how embarrassing would that be for the both of us! i don't mean to embarrass you, but it's not like you're going to read this out-loud for everyone to hear, are you?
i hope that, at the very least, you'll let me be your friend.
love,
y/n
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
scaramouche laid on his futon, purple locks fanned out on his pillow and eyes trained on that stain on the ceiling of his room. your letter, which had been ripped in half, lay on the surface of his polished wood desk, taped together rather haphazardly with some scotch tape he'd scrounged up from his drawers.
there's a lot of bad things in the world, but if i think about leaving it all, well, i suppose i wouldn't want that to happen either.
your words from your letter swam rapidly around in his mind as he sat up. how could you have known about his family issues? he'd never told you about them, and yet, you somehow still found out about them yourself.
the soft whir whir whir of his ceiling fan lulled him to sleep, his thoughts coming to a stop as well. as he slept, he dreamed of that night; that stupid night that made him so upset to think about.
it was raining that night; fat raindrops sliding down his cheeks as he walked down the stone path, the annual summer festival taking place just down the mountainside he was on. he had his phone's speaker pressed to his ear as he balanced his feet on top of each stone.
scaramouche grew tired of arguing with his mother over this topic. it was hard enough now that dad was out of the picture, but the fact that the old hag wouldn't accept that he wanted to become a writer, it pissed him off. he wished that he had a remote he could use that would be able to mute all the words that were coming out of her mouth, but there was no such thing, and here he was, stuck walking in the rain and listening to his mother nag to him about his life choices. again.
"mom, i already told you, i want to become a-"
"i know what you said, and i don't approve of it! becoming an author is very difficult work, and even if you succeeded, you don't get paid well! do you want to be living out on the streets? this is why i said you should try and apply for law school when you're older."
"i told you, i don't want to do law school! i want to write!"
"if you were to graduate from law school, you'd be able to make a lot of money from your cases and clients. think about it: which one seems more sensible to do?"
"i don't care about what's sensible, i care about what i want to do. why can't you just respect the fact that i want to be a writer, and there's nothing you can do to change that?"
there was silence on the other end, the only sound being fuzzy static.
"we'll talk about this later, when you're home. i should hope that tomorrow you won't be skipping out on cram school again." with that, she hung up on him.
dropping the hand that he used to hold his phone, scaramouche clenched his hand tight around the device, wishing he could hurl it down the mountainside (bonus points if it hit someone in the head in the process). why couldn't she understand what he wanted to do?
as scaramouche stumbled down the path, rain drops blurring his vision like tears, he thought he heard a twig snap in a clump of bushes to his left. he was too upset to even bother checking if someone was there, and even if someone was there, he could care less. he was sick of pretending to be the perfect little boy that everyone made him out to be.
by the time he'd made it up to the top of the hill, where his house stood serenly, his clothes were soaked and hair dripping wet. scaramouche kicked off his wet school shoes and ran up to his room, flipping his "do not disturb" sign over. then he promptly slammed the door shut, locking it.
back against the door, he slid down, his knees tucking themselves in as he buried his face into his arms. scaramouche could already hear his mother's footsteps coming up the stairs and towards his room.
knock knock.
"go away. i don't want to talk to you."
scaramouche could sense her hesitation. even from behind the door, he could just imagine what her face would look like: nostrils flaring like one of those fire-breathing dragons he'd heard about in history, eyebrows scrunched up, and lips turned into a hard frown. that was her usual "i'm so disappointed in you" look she wore whenever she sat him down with this topic.
"honey, i'm saying this for your own good. i know you want to be an author, and i understand that you don't want to be a lawyer, but it's imperative that we have you to support our family." now that dad is gone. she didn't say; she didn't need to. it was quite clear in the tone that she was using that that was what she meant.
"i said to go away! are you deaf or something? just leave me alone. that's the least you can grant me with all your nagging."
he peered down at the crack under his door and waited, holding his breath until her shadow finally moved away from his door. sighing under his breath, he ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers getting tangled up in the locks.
they're all so blind, so ignorant. they don't care about me. they only lean on me because i'm the man of the family now.
he felt something sharp sting his eyes. as scaramouche reached up to wipe at his eyes, he realized that he was crying. how ridiculous is this, he thought. i'm actually crying like some pathetic wimp.
scaramouche woke, hearing the steady drip drip drip of rain water dripping from the roof and the whirring of his ceiling fan. going over to his desk, he looked over your letter one more time before sighing under his breath. he couldn't get the image of your face out of his head; you looked so hurt, so unlike your normal happy and energetic persona you always had going on at school.
what were you going through? now that he thought about it, he didn't know anything about you. not your favorite shows, what color you liked, which foods you hated...he didn't know any of that. in your letter, you spoke as though you actually understood his perspective, like you actually had been going through and went through similar events.
he smoothed out a dog-eared corner of the letter before slumping down in his chair. great. now i need to apologize to them. how pathetic am i?
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← first part | taglist form! ↺ | finale →
a / n !! - heres that part two, might do another part and end it there...
taglist (if you did not want to be tagged from this, so sorry, lmk and i'll remove you!) : @seungyaolee, @sunoosbestie, @chickynn, @shizunxie, @jameineliebe, @cesarsbeloved, @extrabish, @scaralvr, @malina130550
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goldenlevi · 2 years
Text
Loving you is fun, 2
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A/N: here i go again with the moodboard ~ this is just fluff honestly, it’s sickening 🤢 same reader as the previous one (u can read separately if u want 🖤) 🎧warnings: smoking (weed), mention of breasts (once), kissing/making out, no spoilers 🎧summary: a glimpse into Eddie’s and your relationship with each other 🎧tag: @mysterylullaby - you can read part 1 here masterlist
Fall was easily your favourite season.
It wasn’t too cold you were sneezing every five seconds, but it wasn’t too warm that you felt like your lungs were working overtime. It was perfect.
The leaves fell around you, surrounding your blanket and makeshift pillow, on the place you and Eddie would visit and spend hours at a time whenever there would be an opportunity. You had given Max a ride home when you spot him briefly. You two had been busier lately, each with your own individual things, so when he spotted you, he ran over dropping a quick kiss on your lips and asked you to meet him at the place later. It wasn’t often that Eddie left you unsatisfied, but you were beginning to feel slightly needy.
When you guys first began to hang out years prior, you soon found a common interest: you both liked to stay away from most people in that town. And so, a lot of time was spent walking aimlessly in the woods discovering new places. At first, you’d tried so hard to stay strictly platonic but fuck, the way he laughed at your jokes and smiled reassuringly after, whenever you would let out something you shouldn’t, it was never going to last.
One of the perks of dating a guy like Eddie was the never-ending feeling of security. Yes, he didn’t fit in the normal sense of what a man his age should be doing, nonetheless, he was good and good overshadows normality any day of the week in your book. He made you feel safe emotionally, and physically alike. You knew there wasn’t anything you could tell him that would scare him off, you had gone through high school with him embarking on many different phases before settling on you were now. Because of that, there wasn’t a once of uncertainty in you that he wouldn’t be in your future.
As you laid in your blanket, staring onto the river in-front of you guys, you felt Eddie’s free hand on the side of your face caressing your skin going back and forth between your temple and cheek. He laid next to you watching the way the leaves fell around your bodies, slowly as if not to bother you. A joint was passed around between you two, removing any worries that might’ve lingered in the back of your mind. No words needed to be exchanged, both cherishing the company.
After a couple of steady heartbeats went by, you finished the joint putting it out beside you, you stretched your hands looking for his warmth. Lifting his shirt, you smiled softly feeling goosebumps appear on the exact place your fingers travelled. There was nothing like feeling his skin on yours, your eyes closed instinctively as you took what you could get in the moment.
You felt his lips moving against your forehead, yet your hazy mind stopped you from paying attention to what he possibly said. “Did you say something?” Your eyes looked up at him, full of wonder. His red-ish eyes stared back with a familiar twinkle.
“I said let’s go for a swim” He repeated, Eddie knew you would space out more than usual whenever you got high which he didn’t mind. He also knew you got very impulsive which is why he barely acknowledged the fact your hands were already gripping his shirt upwards attempting to take it off for him.
He laughed at your giggles and gave you a hand at taking his clothes off.
Water splashed around the two, as the couple played around in interrupted joy. Breathing fast, you grinned as your hands removed the wet hair from his eyes. Eddie wondered if he looked as love drunk as he felt. He placed a slow kiss in your lips, his own fitting the empty space perfectly. You sighed contently, immediately in tune, tightening your legs around his hips. Rapidly losing yourself in the kiss with no intention to get back to reality, your tongue mixed with his, deepening the kiss urgently. A small moan broke free as his hands cupped your ass in an attempt to get you impossibly closer to him.
Eddie’s lips left yours agonisingly slow, switching to pecking your cheek, then travelling to your jaw eventually making his way to your neck and chest. You leaned your head back basking in the feeling of the sunlight and his mouth directly on your skin.
You felt the loss of contact on your breasts making you look down at him only to discover his eyes already on yours.
“What are you smiling about?” You practically whisper.
He smiled as if he had a secret, he wasn’t yet willing to share. “I’m gonna marry you someday”
A smile took over your face, and you bumped your nose in his gently. “Promise?”
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esther-dot · 2 years
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One thing I noticed in about Sansa. Pycelle molested Sansa on her bed, Sansa tried to burn her beddings in fear of queen noticing her periods and she had to bear joffery child(forcefully), Hound almost raped her on her bed and Tyrion almost raped her on their wedding bed, Marillion also molested her on her bed. Sansa abusers molesting her on her bed is a pattern and later she was afraid of marriage bed that she had nightmare about it.
It is so sad, anon! I hate reading her terror.
Sometimes I wonder if there is more here though, more to why Martin keeps having Sansa get assaulted, a purpose beyond just compounding her trauma. There’s a line about women having children being their own battle, and I’ve wondered if that, if how political means are achieved through marriage ie sex/children is why he is so focused on that in Sansa’s storyline. If having children is a battle, then perhaps he is tracing this idea throughout her story, and the context in his mind is that the threats, the assaults, and Sansa’s refusal to have sex with Tyrion, are her own war.
This quote of Cersei’s made me think of Sansa’s experience compared to Robb’s:
"When we were little, Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell us apart. Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other's clothes and spend a whole day each as the other. Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. 'What do I get?' I remember asking. We were so much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently. Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly. Jaime's lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood."
"But you were queen of all the Seven Kingdoms," Sansa said.
"When it comes to swords, a queen is only a woman after all." Cersei's wine cup was empty. The page moved to fill it again, but she turned it over and shook her head. "No more. I must keep a clear head." (ACOK, Sansa VI)
Of course, we know what happens, but the fact that Robb is crowned king while Sansa is held prisoner, that Robb wins victories while Sansa is beaten for them...it felt relevant. And of course, this:
No woman could defeat him, not even Asha; women were made to fight their battles in the birthing bed. (AFFC, The Prophet)
So, while I obviously am very tired of the constant rape threats against Sansa,  perhaps Martin has linked the threat of violence to Sansa having her period (she’d have to marry Joffrey and have his kids), to the idea of having children (Joffrey’s threats of making her bear his children even after she marries Tyrion, the danger of having a child with Tyrion at all as she would no longer be necessary), and to sex with the repeated assaults for a reason. Rather than leaving it at birthing is the battle, he’s ensconced every aspect of this in violence for Sansa, which is distressing, but potentially could be about Sansa not only foiling every plan to use her, but eventually securing her own political ends, achieving her own victory, in a series long endeavor, a series long war campaign, written into her story without her ever stepping foot onto the traditional battle field.
We know children are the means of securing a political future, it’s impressed upon us that Robb must have a child, desperately needs an heir, so Sansa’s reaction to getting her period (which means marrying Joffrey and giving him kids and securing his) being to take up a knife against it, to hack up the evidence, is not only a little aggressive for her, it reads like violence, and it is political resistance. And, it is followed by her refusing to cooperate with the Lannister plans when decides not to sleep with Tyrion, another notably assertive moment:
It took all the courage that was in her to look in those mismatched eyes and say, "And if I never want you to, my lord?" (ASOS, Sansa III)
We generally look at these scenes on a character level, but if we remember, the actions of nobles does not indicate their own fate, but directs the course of their people, of a kingdom (looking at you, beloved Robb, but also this is where the story begins, Robert, Lyanna, and Rhaegar), then Sansa’s actions while personal, must be recognized as the momentous political maneuvers they are, and their significance is akin to the significance of a battle.
While her efforts to hide her period fail, she does escape Joffrey, she does escape the threat of the rioters and the threat of the Hound, she does escape KL without ever sleeping with Tyrion, and those are each her victory.
They’re also victories for the North.
On the more personal side of these frightening moments, I can’t remember a nightmare or fear about sex in general, but Sansa does have nightmares about the riot, Joffrey, the Hound assaulting her, and her traumas tend to trigger memories of other traumas, so some of these get associated in her dreams which makes sense because most of them revolve around the threat of rape.
Here’s a scene where Tyrion and the Hound are linked:
That night Sansa scarcely slept at all, but tossed and turned just as she had aboard the Merling King. She dreamt of Joffrey dying, but as he clawed at his throat and the blood ran down across his fingers she saw with horror that it was her brother Robb. And she dreamed of her wedding night too, of Tyrion's eyes devouring her as she undressed. Only then he was bigger than Tyrion had any right to be, and when he climbed into the bed his face was scarred only on one side. "I'll have a song from you," he rasped, and Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. "I wish that you were Lady," she said. (ASOS, Sansa VI)
  Even though she has these nightmares, her thoughts about bedding which involves being publicly stripped and then having sex aren’t entirely horror, in her mind it depends on the context. First we have the negative view:
Her husband drank heavily and ate but little. He listened whenever someone rose to make a toast and sometimes nodded a curt acknowledgment, but otherwise his face might have been made of stone. The feast seemed to go on forever, though Sansa tasted none of the food. She wanted it to be done, and yet she dreaded its end. For after the feast would come the bedding. The men would carry her up to her wedding bed, undressing her on the way and making rude jokes about the fate that awaited her between the sheets, while the women did Tyrion the same honors. Only after they had been bundled naked into bed would they be left alone, and even then the guests would stand outside the bridal chamber, shouting ribald suggestions through the door. The bedding had seemed wonderfully wicked and exciting when Sansa was a girl, but now that the moment was upon her she felt only dread. She did not think she could bear for them to rip off her clothes, and she was certain she would burst into tears at the first randy jape.
When the musicians began to play, she timidly laid her hand on Tyrion's and said, "My lord, should we lead the dance?" (ASOS, Sansa III)
But then later Sansa thinks that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if it was part of a marriage to a man she loved and with friends:
They said their vows within the hour, standing beneath a sky-blue canopy as the sun sank in the west. Afterward trestle tables were set up beneath the small flint tower, and they feasted on quail, venison, and roast boar, washing it down with a fine light mead. Torches were lit as dusk crept in. Lysa's singer played "The Vow Unspoken" and "Seasons of My Love" and "Two Hearts That Beat as One." Several younger knights even asked Sansa to dance. Her aunt danced as well, her skirts whirling when Petyr spun her in his arms. Mead and marriage had taken years off Lady Lysa. She laughed at everything so long as she held her husband's hand, and her eyes seemed to glow whenever she looked at him.
When it was time for the bedding, her knights carried her up to the tower, stripping her as they went and shouting bawdy jests. Tyrion spared me that, Sansa remembered. It would not have been so bad being undressed for a man she loved, by friends who loved them both. By Joffrey, though . . . She shuddered.
Her aunt had brought only three ladies with her, so they pressed Sansa to help them undress Lord Petyr and march him up to his marriage bed. He submitted with good grace and a wicked tongue, giving as good as he got. By the time they had gotten him into the tower and out of his clothes, the other women were flushed, with laces unlaced, kirtles crooked, and skirts in disarray. But Littlefinger only smiled at Sansa as they marched him up to the bedchamber where his lady wife was waiting. (ASOS, Sansa VI)
Joffrey had her stripped and beaten, he threatened to rape her and impregnate her, so the recurring fear of him makes sense, but even after her horrific experiences in KL, she romanticizes the possibility of marrying Willas, daydreams of what their life could be, whispers his name into her pillow. Yes, she does have the tendency to romanticize everything, but I think the way those lines are written, the way the above is written, her dance with Garlan, her interest in Lothor’s feelings for Mya and thoughts about that, even her bitterness that the other girls still have their dreams while she now knows everyone’s interest in her is to use her, not because they love her, it all points to the notion that love, romance, sex, these are all things she still wants and is open to.
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Posting my first Les Mis story! Trigger warning for mentions of death, blood, and guns. I hope you like it!
Enjolras’s plan would have worked if it wasn’t for that no-good cheat Javert.
Instead, here he was surrounded by his fallen comrades- his fallen friends- cornered by the army that had so graciously taken their lives. Here he was, with who he now realized was the love of his life, trapped on a balcony with no way down. The soldiers’ guns were pointing at the lonesome pair, and both Enjolras and Grantaire knew what they were waiting for.
All it took was the wave of a white flag, and their lives would be spared today. Sure, they’d waste away in the galleys- but wasn’t it worth it for a chance to serve their beloved king? The one who this whole revolution was about? The scoundrel of a man who was starving his people and working them to death for the name of the common good?
No. Enjolras would never surrender. One look at Grantaire told Enjolras all he needed to hear- the flag of surrender would only be raised over their dead bodies (quite literally).
With a curt nod, Enjolras turned to the soldiers bedecked in their red and blue, breaking the eye contact his lover- his Icarus- had trapped him in. He raised a shaking fist in the air, grabbed his lover’s hand, and somehow managed to get the words he’d been saying for years out of his mouth one more time.
“Vive la révolution!”
The words had been said. It was too late to go back now.
His fist had collapsed back to his side- he knew this was it. But Grantaire was still there. There was no better way to go than die for the cause the pair had fought so hard for.
The soldiers once again raised their guns, and the two gazed into each other’s eyes. One last glance, before it was too late.
Blue eyes bored into blue eyes. A universe peered into a universe, so different yet so alike.
And the shots fired.
There was no pain, at least not at first. There was never any pain at first. But soon there was too much pain, and all there was was red and black swimming on the edges of Enjolras’s vision, fogging his mind and forcing his body to collapse to the ground.
The irony was too much to handle, and the doomed boy snorted. Wasn’t red supposed to be the blood of angry men? Black- the night that was supposed to end at last?
The revolutionaries had nailed the red, but as far as Enjolras knew there was no end to the night. Yet the night seemed to be overtaking him.
He shuddered and immediately winced, his free hand coming to his stomach. He somehow managed to lift it back up toward his eyes, and was unsurprised by the red coating every inch of his hand.
He was dying. And that was a fact that unfortunately could not be disputed.
But just as the cold had grown too cold, and the light was dimming yet brightening at the same time, Enjolras felt a squeeze on his non-bloody hand.
And suddenly red and black turned into red, black, and blue. And oh, was that blue the most mesmerizing blue Enjolras had ever seen.
He returned the squeeze, even though every part of him was screaming to stop.
“‘Pollo?” Grantaire managed to choke out, yet he seemed so unlike his usual self, so absolutely vulnerable, that Enjolras’s heart panged.
“Y-yes?” Enjolras started coughing, and something (probably blood) trickled down his chin.
“I’m scared to go.”
And those words would forever haunt Enjolras. The once fearless leader broke at the sound of his lover’s confession.
“I’m less scared now that you’re here,” was the only response Grantaire would ever get. The black had become too white, Enjolras was a goner.
Even gods can fall. Even Apollo can join Artemis in the night and Hades in the Underworld.
He succumbed to the cold. Grantaire followed as soon as he felt Enjolras grow still. They never thought they’d wake up from the realm of seemingly eternal unconsciousness.
----
There's more parts to this that I'll post when I get farther in the story. Thanks for reading it this far!
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countlessrealities · 8 months
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RELATIONSHIP BUILDING || No longer accepting.
@advnterccs sent: 😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate. { To your Morty from my Morty !! }
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There were a lot of things that Morty loved about spending time with his boyfriend. If asked to list them or even just to choose his favourite, he wouldn't have known where to start from. It was hard to pick, almost impossible, when just physically being with his counterpart made him feel good, as he had rarely felt.
He loved how they could talk for hours, about their shared interests but also about the ones they didn't share. He also enjoyed when they didn't talk much, but still gravitated into each other's space, playing videogames, doing homeworks, reading comics.
He had quickly developed a preference for group adventures for the same reason...and also because it was easier to call the Ricks out on their bullshit as a pair. Group not-adventures, like trips to space arcades or afternoon spent watching Interdimensional Cable, held a special spot in his heart too, both because his other self was there and because the Ricks tended to act nicer when they were together. Probably because they were too busy being lovey-dovey to be assholes.
And then there were the dates he and his boyfriend went on. He always had the best time on them, the elaborated ones and the simpler ones alike. The fact that they knew each other so well was a guarantee that they would have a fun time...even though it was also true that Morty would have been content with doing what his counterpart enjoyed. Seeing the other happy having a good time was the thing that made him the happiest.
That afternoon had started like one of their usual quiet ones. The two teens where in their room, just chilling on the couch with his laptop. Nothing had been too out of the norm, aside from his boyfriend sitting closer than he normally would when they weren't cuddling.
At first, Morty hadn't thought much of it, but then his counterpart had ended up plastered against his side, arms wrapped around his waist, alternating between nuzzling into his shoulder and planting light kisses on the side of his face.
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"...Uh," the boy let out, unable to decide whether or not he should ask. The two of them got lovey-dovey with each other too, even if not as much and as openly as the Ricks, but usually there was some build-up to it.
It wasn't that he minded the affection, mind you. It was quite the opposite. It was pleasant and it made him feel good, despite the shyness that had risen inside him together with the warmth that made his skin tingle. Deep down, he knew that he craved it, that he was more than ready to soak up in it as much as possible.
Yet, on the other hand, he couldn't help wondering if there was something he wasn't aware of or that he was missing. What if there was a deeper reason than a soft mood behind his boyfriend sudden, bolder show of affection? What if this was a request for comfort and not just a request for physical closeness?
A small crease formed between Morty's brows as the last kiss lingered a little longer against the corner of his jaw. He didn't really want to ask, because he was afraid that t would have spoiled the mood and made things awkward, but at the same time he felt like he would have been a bad partner, if he hadn't tried to make sure that the other was alright.
So, after a moment of hesitation, he slowly turned his head on one side, catching his counterpart's eyes. His heart fluttered a little at the sight of those warm brown eyes, as it never failed to do, and he felt his cheek heating up, the lightest blush colouring his skin.
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"H-Hey," he whispered with a little shy smile, leaning in to close the space between them.
His lips brush the tip of his other self's nose in a brief, playful peck, before capturing his mouth. The kiss was sweet and lingering and Morty's hand slowly made its way up along his counterpart's side until it came to rest on his chest.
"Y-You know that I-I'm always here for you, right? For...I-If there's anything you want o-or need...I'm your guy," he spoke in a quiet tone, resting his forehead against his boyfriend's. "A-Always and anyway. I..." The blush on his cheeks deepened. "I love you an-and I want to make you happy. I-In anyway I can."
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papeldecelofan · 8 months
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Takane and Hana
I'm re-reading the manga and I have things to say.
People seem bothered by the age gap situation between both characters. However, as an adult (yes, I am one), this is not a deal breaker for me; it never was. In fact, I shipped this couple hard.
To be honest, a relationship with an age gap is something that happens more often than many think. I also believe it's a cultural belief; I've met people who have found each other and love each other deeply with the same age-gap, and even a larger one and they still are together to this very day.
Anyway, back to this manga. Sure, it sounds outrageous for a high-schooler to go out with an adult. But, the characters, especially Takane (despite his brash personality), never tries to take advantage of Hana since he’s not even considering having a relationship with her, he just enjoys her unapologetic mind, and he respects her for being true to herself.
The same goes for her, she understands there is a huge world of differences between them, but instead of feeling intimidated, she learns many things she didn't even imagine would be helpful for her own life experiences. The way Takane often lends his shoulder (again, in his own brash way) for Hana to speak her mind, and how she listens to his advice is wonderful to see, and often gets ignored just by the fact of their age difference. Let's remember, this guy never has had a girlfriend before, and due to life events and his upbringing, he couldn't even keep people close enough to harbor any friendships, and those who have, have stayed because they know he is a really good guy and care for him--Rino, for example.
Takane has little tolerance for people fawning over him, he hates it when people can’t think for themselves. He is bad at expressing his emotions, he is pretty straightforward to a point you think he’s self entitled, but it’s just the fact he’s had to work twice as hard to earn his place, and build the reputation he has because of who he is; some would say he’s a black sheep while other would say he’s just a spoiled brat. He is aware of his privilege, but also has many, many flaws he painfully becomes to learn and accept the more time he spends with Hana.
Hana, on the other hand, is a sensible and very practical girl. She doesn’t pay mind to the status quo and this is reflected in everything she does, for her, ‘whatever fits’ is fine; that’s her philosophy. Takane being the complete opposite, and puzzled by the way she navigates life, annoys her until she understands the value of self-love and appreciation and how to embrace her flaws by turning them into qualities all this, without changing the essence of who she is. She has a big heart, and is considerate, to a point not even Takane can understand why, yet, he loves this about her.
So then, why does nobody talk about Takane's all-time positive attitude? Idk. It's the age gap thing, I guess.
What I love about 'their story' is how they get to know each other (in very funny scenarios). Romance isn’t the first card they play, it’s how they are both too stubborn to quit on proving who’s right. Exhausting, yes, but this expands their concept of friendship, and we get to see how slowly (but surely) they become the best of friends. They look out for each other, surprise each other, and care for each other without feeling forced. Their relationship is organic. They’re very much alike in terms of pride.
Sure, each of them has their own monologue trying to reason their situation, and go by real facts on how this could be an issue to society, affect their careers, reputation, and such, but in the end, they admitted they were not going to find the same connection with anyone else. They started annoying each other to a point of exhaustion, then became trusted friends, then best friends, and then fell in love. It’s truly endearing to see the always aloof Takane opening up to people, yet, Hana became the one he trusted the most.
So, here I am, re-reading this story and falling in love with these two all over again. Not to mention the secondary characters, they're all a fun bunch to follow. And that's that. I just needed to write it because no one I know has read this manga, and as an adult, none of my friends like to read comics or manga, and much to their bad luck, I live for it all.
I have friends and family who share this love story; where there is an even major age difference, and the way they understand each other is really beautiful. So, love (if true and in total consent) in the end, has no age.
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razieltwelve · 1 year
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Lessons (Final Rose x House of the Dragon)
Rhaenyra quite liked the professor. Unlike the maesters who’d been teaching her before, the professor never made her feel stupid. Oh, she certainly felt quite ignorant at times - the professor knew so much - but as the professor was fond of saying:
Ignorance is temporary. Stupidity is forever.
If Rhaenyra didn’t know something or didn’t understand something, then the professor wanted her to ask, so she could teach her about it. Sometimes, even the silliest questions could lead to the most important lessons. In fact, it wasn’t unusual for the Kingsguard who accompanied her to pay closer attention to her lessons than was strictly necessary. The professor just had a way of making things interesting.
“Professor,” Rhaenyra asked. “Why does my father have a Small Council?”
The professor had a table set up with a map of the Seven Kingdoms. She had been in the midst of explaining some of the strengths and weaknesses of each kingdom to Rhaenyra and her cousins, Aegon and Daenys. It was fascinating, and it occurred to Rhaenyra that although the Seven Kingdoms had not been united until the Conquest, none of them was an island unto itself. Each needed the others in some way or another.
“I could say that it is simply tradition,” the professor began. “Or that it is a way of rewarding loyal vassal with positions of power. Both are certainly true.” Not far away, Lord Commander Westerling nodded in approval. “But the best answer is something a little bit different. Tell me, children, what makes a good king?”
“A good king should be strong,” Aegon said at once. “My namesake couldn’t have united the Seven Kingdoms if he had been weak.”
“True,” the professor replied. “A weak king will not last long. His vassals will take advantage of him, possibly even rebel, and his enemies from outside his kingdom will seek to increase their own power at his expense. You only need to look to Essos and Free Cities to see the problems brought about by weak leaders. But is strength alone enough? Maegor was certainly mighty in battle, but his rule did not last long, nor was it prosperous.”
“Just,” Daenys said. She was quieter than Aegon, but Rhaenyra knew firsthand how sharp her mind was. She was usually the first to finish when they were asked to read something, and she would have spent her life in the library if she and Aegon had not occasionally pulled her out of it for some fun. Oh, and dragons. Daenys loved dragons. “A good king should be just... like our great-grandfather, Jaeherys.”
“Yes. Your great-grandfather was a great king, and his just nature was a big part of that. Small folk and nobles alike knew that when he made decisions, it would be for the good of the Seven Kingdoms and that those decisions would be fair. But how did he know which decisions were the right ones? How did he know when to exert his strength and when to use a lighter touch?”
Rhaenyra frowned. It was a difficult question, and she could see both Aegon and Daenys grow contemplative. And then she remembered something her father had told her, something he’d mentioned when she asked why he was not the Lord Commander of the City Watch. “A good king should be wise,” she said. “That is why my father has a Small Council, isn’t it? Because a wise man knows when to take advice and when to steer his own course.”
The professor smiled sunnily. “Very good, princess. Think of all the matters that concern a king. A king must defend the kingdom. A king must know about trade. A king must decide matters of law. A king must oversee great works like roads and settlements. A king must ensure that there is food and water for all. A king... a king must do a great many things. But any king master all of these matters himself? No. For a man lives but once. So a good king finds advisors who are experts in these matters, and they must be experts he can trust, whose loyalty he is sure of. That is why members of the Small Council are drawn from the most loyal of vassals. Yet, ultimately, it is a king who must make the decisions that govern a kingdom. A good king ought to see advice from those knowledge in the matters he is considering... but he must also know when to take that advice and when to choose a different path.”
“Is that why my father made my uncle Lord Commander of the City Watch?” Rhaenyra asked.
The professor nodded. “The king is skilled in many things, princess, but your uncle is a great warrior and commander.”
“Better than my father?” Rhaenyra loved her father dearly. It did not sit well with her to see him spoken of as less than someone else even if, in her heart of hearts, she knew it to be true.
“Princess, does a king need to be the mightiest warrior in the kingdom?” The professor smiled at Ser Westerling. “Ser Westerling, you are Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and you served the Old King as well. Tell me, was the Old King your better with a blade?”
The loyal knight smiled back, eyes warm with memory. “Nay. The Old King was the wisest man I ever knew and a great king, but with a blade in hand, I can honestly say that I was his better.” His gaze shifted to Rhaenyra. “And that is well. For if a king is mightier than every sword in the land, what need has he of a Kingsguard? Prince Daemon is well suited to leading the City Watch, princess. He has turned them into proper soldiers, a force that brings order and peace to the city. Your father was wise to appoint him to the position.”
“You see, princess,” the professor continued. “A good king, like your father, knows when someone is better than him at something. Rather than being envious of it, your father has instead taken full advantage of it.” She nodded at Aegon and Daenys. “Tell me, princess, if you were to become ruler, would you serve as your own champion in battle, or would you appoint someone else to the task?”
Rhaenyra grimaced. “I would appoint one, of course.” She smiled. “Perhaps Aegon.”
Her cousin grinned. “I would gladly be your champion, cousin, although I’ve much improving still to do.”
Rhaenyra chuckled. Aegon was modest about his talents, but she had seen and heard enough to know that he was a prodigy with weapons. Despite his youth, there were few who could best him, and her father had privately confided in her that he was actually better than her uncle had been at that same age.
“Now,” the professor said. “Since we are discussing the Small Council, what do each of you know about its current members?”
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“As I have explained in the past,” the professor said. “Hot air rises.”
Viserys watched as all three children nodded dutifully. It was well past dusk, but the professor had invited him and several others to view this particular lesson. She had said he would enjoy it. Given her propensity for pleasant surprises, he had agreed to come with his wife and Baelon, his son. Daemon was there too, as were some of the more curious nobles.
“Of course, saying something and proving it are two different things.” The professor nodded to where she had prepared what looked to be a lantern of some kind. It was mostly made of paper, but she had yet to light a flame within it. Most notably, the paper ‘shell’ was quite large and only open at the bottom. “I’m sure you’re all wondering what this is.”
“Is it a lantern?” Aegon asked curiously.
“Of a sort. It is special because when I light it, it will fly.” There were murmurs at that. Fly? Viserys had never heard of a flying lantern, and he leaned in just a little bit to make sure he would not miss the explanation. The professor caught the motion and grinned. “It works because when I light the lantern, the fire will heat up the air inside the lantern. Since hot air rises it will carry the lantern up with it.”
“Truly?” Daenys asked. The girl’s brows furrowed. “Is it like when oil floats on water then?”
The professor’s eyes lit up. “Very good, princess. Hot air rises because it is less dense than cold air. Thus, in the same way that oil, which is lighter than water, float on top of water, so too will hot air ‘float’ on top of cold air.”
Beside Viserys, Daemon made a pleased sound. His daughter was quiet, but she had taken to the professor’s lessons very well indeed. Moreover, she was not simply scholarly in outlook but more practically inclined, less a maester in temperament and more like the professor, always looking for ways to use what she’d learned.
“Now, to prove it.” The professor took out a ‘match’, or as the small folk had come to call it a ‘dragon stick’. She struck the match and used it to light a small fire on the little platform inside the lantern. “Watch.”
Everyone watched intently as the fire began to burn... and then the lantern rose up into the air. Whispers broke out, and the professor smiled in satisfaction. Viserys watched the lantern rise up and up and up. The light it cast made it seem almost like a star of their own making.
“Of course, I’ve made more than just one,” the professor said, offering each of the children a match. “There’s one for each of you, as well as one for the king and queen, the young prince, and Prince Daemon too.”
The children hurried to light their own lanterns, watching eagerly as they joined the first up in the air. Viserys waited to go last, and as he watched his own lantern rise up, he felt a wave of wistfulness sweep over him.
“Father would have liked to see this,” Daemon murmured. “It’s the first time I’ve seen something that’s not a bird or a dragon fly.”
“It’s beautiful,” Aemma said. “Like a little sun of our own.”
“Where I come from,” the professor said. “We light these once each year for our Honoured Dead.”
“Honoured Dead?” Daemon asked.
“Our ancestors and all the dead who have died after living lives worthy of praise.” The professor’s voice was sombre. “The idea is that they can see these lights from the afterlife and know they are not forgotten. Instead, they are remembered and loved, no matter years might have passed since they left us.”
Viserys thought of the Old King, of his father, and all the others he had lost in life. From the expression on his face, Daemon was doing much the same.
“Perhaps we can light some more next year then,” Viserys said at last.
“Perhaps.” The professor grinned. “Of course, you can use the same principles to make bigger things fly.”
“Really?” Rhaenyra asked. There was no sadness on her face as she watched the lanterns, only joy. Viserys prayed that the gods would be kind and that she would never have cause to light lanterns such as these for friends and family, save those who passed from old age. “How big?”
“Imagine a big bag made of silk,” the professor said. “One bigger than a house. If you had a fire burning beneath it and you attached a basket to it, why, you might even be able to lift a person.”
Aegon’s eyes widened. “A whole person?”
“Yes. Of course, it won’t be anything like riding a dragon. You’ll only be able to float around. Still, it might have its own uses.”
Daemon could see the gleam in his son’s eyes. “Aegon, you are not doing that. If you are to take to the skies, it will be on a dragon, not an oversized lantern.”
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Author’s Notes
If you want better rulers, you’re going to have to start early, at least, that’s what Vanille thinks. On the upside, the children already think favourably of her, so she’ll be able to keep doing what she’s doing. In fact, she might already have found a potential minion.
That said, the best way to keep things going is to mix ‘wonders’ with more practical inventions. Sky lanterns are very impressive, and the wonder they inspire can easily be parlayed into more funding for things like better sanitation and medical care.
Probably the best thing about this timeline, at least for Viserys, is that his family is much closer. He and Daemon aren’t estranged, and his wife and son are still alive. It makes him a much happier person, and a far better ruler since he’s not stressed all the time, well, not more than the usual that comes with being a king.
It helps that to him, Vanille’s political ambition seems to be limited mostly to getting to do more of what she already does. She seems happiest when she is able to work on her inventions, make things better, and teach people. He’s not constantly wondering if she’s going to stab him in the back and try to seize power. He is, of course, well aware of her growing influence and power, but she has not given him cause to be concerned about it. The worst she has done is use it against the Citadel to get them to back off, which he doesn’t have any real objections to.
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twdmusicboxmystery · 1 year
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hello :) just wanted to drop this link to a very recent interview in which the cast talks about alternative or fake endings for their characters. i dont know if you've seen this one but josh mcdermitt (eugene's actor) mentioned beth 2 times and it definitely caught my attention. i'd love to hear your thoughts on it!
https://ew.com/tv/walking-dead-finale-fake-character-endings/?slide=18ab4b38-a6f1-4c78-8c1b-a7b22e65e225#18ab4b38-a6f1-4c78-8c1b-a7b22e65e225
Thanks so much for pointing this out! Definitely an interesting read. I sent it to my fellow theorists as well, so we could get their take on it. Here is a clickable link for anyone who wants to read it:
https://ew.com/tv/walking-dead-finale-fake-character-endings/?slide=18ab4b38-a6f1-4c78-8c1b-a7b22e65e225#18ab4b38-a6f1-4c78-8c1b-a7b22e65e225
Here are some of our thoughts:
@galadrieljones:
That was definitely enjoyable lol. I love Melissa’s. Seems so something Carol would want. And JDM’s too. It’s definitely weird that Josh mentions Beth twice?? Like he seems to think about her a lot. I didn’t even understand what he was talking about at first. Seems weird like, why is he mentioning Beth. But he doesn’t use her death as an example death!
@twdmusicboxmystery:
Yeah, good point. It's weird to me that he points to Beth twice, because he goes out of his way to say that she "isn't there." I mean, isn't the point that this is a fantasy/fake death, which means what difference would it make if she were there or not? Even though I know that he's literally saying she's "already" dead, it almost feels like he's going out of his way to point out that she isn't around. Like maybe that's code for, "she's not dead" or, "we're going to see her soon."
Also, good point about no one using her death as an example. Not every character death is mentioned here, of course, but most of the iconic ones are. So, it's weird that no one would mention Beth's or use it as a template.
@wdway:
Josh's is definitely the best and he mentioned Beth twice. The fun thing is the fact that this is supposed to be a lie so in him pointing out Beth was dead does that mean that it's a lie that she is?
@twdmusicboxmystery, I see that we're on the same track as to Josh's meaning. So surprised we never think alike, haha.
@galadrieljones:
Yeah it was weird. Like maybe Josh likes her character or something? But his character wasn’t even around yet when Hershel died. And tbh when Hershel dies, Beth and Maggie screaming at the fence is not that memorable or important. Like basically everyone is doing that. Rick shoots and then everyone is shooting and it’s chaos. So idk why he’s mentioning Maggie and Beth?? It just seems like he’s going out of his way to mention her, whether it’s for secretive reasons or because he’s a Beth stan lol.
Especially for the second time “Beth still isn’t there” Like no duh she’s “already dead” so why would she be there…unless…????
@wdway:
I want to think that they're friendly. I could see Josh enjoying Emily's music. They were on TTD together and we know they all know each other through different kind of comic cons. I could really see Josh dropping some kind of coated hint. I think he is very sarcastic in his humor, very quick minded and I would not put it past him at all.
@galadrieljones:
I hope so. I think Eugene would have been in love with Beth lol. He would have been over the moon for her.
She’s pretty and kind and would have been straight with him, but she also is forgiving and all about second chances.
@wdway:
Eugene has been a Beth proxy for so many seasons especially the last 2. He and Max definitely are proxies to Daryl and Beth. So I think that plays a part in it also.
So yeah. Those were some of our thoughts. Thanks so much for sending this in. A fun article to comb through. Xoxo! 🤶🏻💞
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pridelessdaydreamer · 2 years
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🏚- A memory about exploration
// memories. (Also asked by @fangedjustice)
Heir of Hevring sits down with a book, a deep forest green cover with yellowed parchment pages. Every so often, he’d flip the sheets with his ten-year old fingers, unveiling more and more of the world he sought to discover.
It was the tale of an adventurer — one who was smart and careful about her actions, and yet daring enough to travel the uncharted wilderness nonetheless. In the face of the adversary, she had a solution at the ready — and if she didn’t? She’d make one.
Through its prose and its pacing, the boy was easily captivated. His mind painted pictures of the landscapes the adventurer saw, deciphering each letter like he was piecing together a puzzle (and the final picture was a grand, moving masterpiece). Every adjective evoked a sight, every verb a grand gesture — an epic where each sentence said something, every paragraph paid off, and chapters were catered to one’s sense of being.
It was unthought of — such a sensation — separated from Lin by the pages beneath his fingertips. He grew up so far away from his own backyard, raised to be proper and polite and all the things it’d be so much easier to live without paying attention to. When once, he could sneak out and bask in the stars at night, now his every move had at least one eye watching it.
And so, he often retreated to the estate’s study.
His father had a large library of books, covering both fiction and non-fiction alike (the man often spent more time with the latter, as duty recognized him as the Empire’s Minister of Domestic Affairs). Linhardt, however, had been a quick learner and had been reading since he was three and a half years old. His heart, therefore, lay in the world of stories — an escape from the expectations he was yet to bear in full.
The quiet of the study is disturbed just a moment, drawing Linhardt’s attention to his teacher.
“It would seem there’s no sneaking up on you, Linhardt,” they remark, taking a seat beside him, only hesitating to make sure the child is okay with it.
“Were you attempting to catch me off-guard?” Linhardt asks plainly. “Because we both know it was never going to work.” His teacher laughs in response.
“Yes, I suppose I had no chance.” They glance at the book laid open on the young Hevring’s lap. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Mhm.”
The Hevring returns to his story, snapped near instantly back into its world, leaving his teacher behind. They watch him wordlessly, letting a few moments pass before remarking, “You know, you have the makings of a great scholar.”
I know, the boy thinks to himself. It’s not the first time he’d heard the remark, after all. A child with prodigious reading ability, the drive to consume writing for hours on end, and a clear interest in understanding the world as a whole (‘if only he could apply his skills to something useful’).
“I’m not going to force you to partake in literature that doesn’t interest you,” they say, “but perhaps you ought to give it a try? Perhaps there’s a topic you have some interest in that you’d like to learn more about, like monsters or magic?”
Truth be told, magic did fascinate the Hevring heir. It was such an interesting fact of life — a power that can heal and hurt (and all by the intention of the wielder). To protect and to preserve, both violent and peaceful, an ally and an enemy (a question to whom the answer was very clearly, “Yes, I will help others.” It was so effortlessly clear to him, that it felt odd that others could falter on it).
Even stronger within him, however, was the desire to understand crests.
They eluded him, an intangible that seemed to be acknowledged everywhere (the main character of the book he was reading had a minor crest of Indech, for example). He knew he had one, as did his father (Caspar did not).
Why did people value them so? What makes them appear in the first place? What exactly do they even do?
The question is not lost on his teacher, who seems to expect his answer well before Linhardt does.
“I would like to find something on crests...”
They nod, standing up and navigating the rows of non-fiction books, seemingly searching for one specific sought after volume (when they return, it’s a hardcover treatise entitled Power Incarnate: An Introduction to Crests, written by a Hanneman von Essar). Drawing attention to the sheer size of the guide, they add, “It’s alright if you don’t finish it. It’s a big read, but I think you’d enjoy it.”
“It’s alright,” Linhardt assures, flipping through the pages to size up the text. A lot of it is smaller print than he’s used to, and there’s certainly a lot more pages than in anything else he’d ever read, but that was all fine. If it really interested him, it’d end up read regardless in roughly four to five days.
“I’ll start later,” he declares, placing down the volume to continue his book. His teacher nods understandingly, leaving to give him the space to truly enjoy it.
He reads over 200 more pages that afternoon, finishing the story in one grand burst. It’s not how he would normally go about it (generally, he’d take a few breaks along the way for snacks and naps), but something about his new volume — his non-fiction volume — threatens to steal him from his comfort zone, away from the unknown world of stories and into the unknown world beyond his four walls.
It didn’t scare him — that’d be an inaccurate claim, — rather, it promised him something. Something he couldn’t ignore:
Once you head down this path, you will scarcely return.
At the end of the story, the adventurer is honored by her homeland, a hero who mapped the unknown. Her exploits ultimately aided her people, and her knowledge became the basis of grand inventions previously inconceivable. It was a satisfactory ending, although Linhardt would’ve preferred something different for himself.
All that attention was far more than he was willing to put up with — he’d much rather be a silent contributor to society (assuming he contributed at all). As he pages through the preface, he thinks to himself how he’d simply like to research things that are of interest to him — nothing more, nothing less. If that helped people, then that was good. If not, then ah, well! That was never the intention to begin with.
The prose is different, unsurprisingly. What is surprising to him, however, is just how much character the text carries. You can feel the passion behind the crestologist’s writings and the pure joy he experiences in his research.
It pulls him in, and he finishes the tale over the course of the next two days.
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eliaswoodt · 5 months
Text
Special It Called Her
(Special It Called Her)
No warnings! (I’m pretty sure not)
Kaitlyn didn’t know when she realized she was special.
At least not the exact moment she actively thought I’m special.
She does remember the first odd thing to happen to her. (Or, at least the first odd thing she knows about happening to her. But she doesn’t often like to entertain the idea of things happening to or around her without knowing it. Being unaware…the idea…it makes her skin prickle, and crawl and her heart thrum, squirm with the feeling of being watched).
Kaitlyn was young, plain brown hair and plain brown eyes, 15 or so (so young and yet already seen as an adult in training, instead of a kid just aching to be noticed), and she didn’t have many friends.
Kaitlyn was waiting with her friends just outside of the tall blue school doors (two girls who pitied her enough to let her leech on their conversations, getting her social-sustenance through barely-willing veins), waiting to get picked up and taken home.
It was spring, birds cawing once more, the leafs new and shiny on sturdy brown branches and the sun hiding less and less as the days went on, painting the concrete the three girls stood on in faint light. Still too cold to not be bundled up in coats and jackets.
Kaitlyn was standing a good couple inches from her two friends, a noticeable distance (just like their minds and hers—so distant and unlike each other in every important way), and she was trying to find an opening in the racing conversation before her (she had always been bad at races, running never her forte. Always falling short and getting benched by peers, friends, and family alike).
And just before she could get a word out (the conversation was quickly turning from animals to boy bands and Kait didn’t know a thing about boy bands—or music, really—so she desperately wanted to share a fun fact about snakes), a raspy voice whispered Carrier, Carrier, right in her ear.
Kaitlyn jumped, heart going frantic. “Huh?” She glanced around, eyeing the students out and about, talking, laughing, crowding together (probably wanting to have a smoke), waiting for rides or getting into cars of various kinds and shades of white, black, red, or blue.
She pulled her searching gaze from the trees that circled and enclosed around the high school, back to her friends, and the two girls were apparently staring at her. “Uh…”
“What?” Jess said, blonde brow raised, frowning.
Isabella’s—or as the teen preferred—Izzy’s honey colored eyes bore into Kaitlyn’s, blandly staring at her. Or maybe judging her? Kait couldn't ever tell. Reading expressions…well, it never was something she prided herself on. (The boys always looked at her strangely whenever she tried to speak about rare animals with them, and the girls' faces contorted weirdly when she said she didn’t understand the whole playing-with-dolls-stuff, in elementary. Not much has changed, since then really).
Kaitlyn quickly avoided their nerve-racking eyes. “Uhm…I just…uh…n-never mind,” Kaitlyn eventually mumbled, and tried to shake off the horrible feeling of being watched.
“Really?” Jess crossed her arms. Jessica Brook, blonde and blue eyed, was always a nosy person, and Kaitlyn thinks it’s because her parents always use information against each other (but Kait would never tell her that. People didn’t like it when she told them things like that, especially when it was about themselves).
While Jess loudly proclaimed who she was, Izzy, dark curls and darker eyes, was a private, to-herself-person. Quiet like Kait, but by choice, unlike Kait. Izzy still liked gossip, though.
“It seemed like something, didn’t it, Jess?”
“Yeah, it did, Izz.”
Carrier, carrier, the voice from earlier rasped, sounding as if it was coming from all directions. Her paranoia, she could feel, was creeping along her spine, and Kaitlyn was almost glad for the cold since it gave her an excuse to shiver.
Kaitlyn’s head buzzed when the thing spoke. But she still didn’t know where it was coming from.
“Do, uh…” Kaitlyn didn’t want to be called crazy, but she decided she needed to know. “Did you guys hear that? The voice?”
A small laugh escaped Izzy. Izzy was meaner than Jess, Kaitlyn felt.
“A voice?” Jess questioned.
Kaitlyn nodded.
Another sharp, little laugh slipped past Izzy’s mouth while she rolled her eyes.
Jess snapped out of the shock Kait’s words seemingly put her in. “What, you’re crazy now? Hearing voices inside your head?” Jess said, nose scrunched and lip pinched up.
Kaitlyn wanted to flap her hands, feeling uncertain and distinctly uncomfortable with all the eyes and odd looks, but instead wrapped her arms around her middle. She went to respond, but Jessica beat her to it.
“Ew, get away from me!” Jess laughed cruelly, loudly, while Izzy kept her snickering mostly to herself. “I don’t want your craziness,” she pulled Izzy away from Kaitlyn, closer to the parking lot, and didn’t look back.
Leaving Kaitlyn to herself.
Kaitlyn let them go, without saying anything at all.
But God, did she want to. She wanted to plead, beg even, for them to stay. Everything inside her body was screaming and begging to not be left alone.
Carrier, come here, the voice buzzed and itched Kaitlyn’s brain. She could feel a headache building.
Kait whipped her head around, making the headache pound harder. And her eyes landed on a…a white blob, hiding behind some bushes, in the treeline. But it wasn’t a normal blob, in the bushes, it almost…
Kaitlyn took three steps closer, against her better judgment.
…it almost looked like a head.
A bald head, bright white like the unnatural white of manufactured paint.
Her head pounded a little harder.
Her heart positively screamed at her to run.
Carrier, Carrier, it said.
The head inched upward, revealing more and more blinding-white skin.
Come here, it whispered and it sounded like it was directly speaking into her ears, and like the voice was echoing all around her. But that would be impossible, seeing as it was only a few feet away from her.
The head continued its upward movement, and revealed black, hollow sockets. The skin around said sockets blackened, like the way wood charred.
Promises, I can give you promises, despite the horror squeezing Kaitlyn’s heart, the voice compelled her to take a step toward it.
Blunt teeth, Kaitlyn realized. Kait didn’t know what to expect, but the creature revealed it had blunt, pearly-white teeth while everything else in its mouth was black and slimy looking.
It oddly didn’t have a nose.
Come here, it tried to corral. But Kaitlyn snapped out of the horrified trance when her Mom called for her, and she ran.
And ran to her Mom, where she sat in the car for who knows how long, waiting for Kaitlyn to open one of the blue car doors and sit.
And Kaitlyn watched.
Watched the trees for the white creature, as her ears rang and heart pounded.
But…almost far more horrifying…she didn’t see it again.
Not when she was in the front seat of the car, studiously scanning the blooming spring trees.
Not outside the window that overlooked the backyard in the kitchen, when she was helping her Mom do the dishes.
And not even outside her bedroom window, when she was sleepless and terrified in her bed as the night trudged along.
Kaitlyn wouldn’t see it for a long, long time.
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ethansespresso · 11 months
Text
the disgrace
chapter 2.
word count: 1101
triggers: anxiety, depression, self-harm, drugs, overdosing, alcohol, eating disorders, homophobia, major character death, mentions of abuse, direct abuse, and a not so happy ending.
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the week to follow wasn't any better. to be honest, the whole semester was absolute murder. the name-calling, the taunting, and the outright bullying hadn't stopped. so, draco took it upon himself to show potter exactly what he had caused. it was his fault that everyone thought he was a complete prat, so, he was going to make it so potter would feel a bit of the same sour emotions.
his mother wrote back to him that following week, though. sympathising, she made sure to send him homemade chocolates with the letter; of which read in summary: i love you, don't listen to them, stay safe. he sent her back a letter to thank her, and that he would keep her updated on all major events-and minor ones-that happened while he was away. he quite enjoyed writing to his mum, it gave him a sort of peace-it made him feel much less shit about the current situation he was in.
over the course of valentine's day weekend, draco had an urge to write harry an anonymous poem-or note, he wasn't really the best with poetry. and worse yet, he did. he didn't send it of course, as he found it much too embarrassing to ever let anyone see. he stuffed it in his box of 'secret stuff', which also contained: lofepramine, the letters from his mum, his journal, his favorite quill, the chocolates, and his necklace that he put in an even smaller box before he went to bed each night. all of these things he hoped no-one would find out about, so the box and its contents were kept under an invisibility spell at all times.
draco made it his life's goal to taunt potter and make him feel the exact same way. he felt as though it was quite petty, but then again his urge to make himself better than the other houses proved greater than his conscience. he called him names, told him how stupid people were for liking him and that he, in fact, was nothing to be gloated over. harry never responded much to these comments, which draco found quite offensive. he learned that getting a proper reaction out of potter would be a lot harder than draco liked, but he had the patients for it. his desire for potter to be mad at him-to be upset with him-was so much stronger than anything he had ever felt before. sometimes harry would roll his eyes, sometimes he'd make some quirky face or call him out, but never-absolutely never-had he actually said something to him in retaliation. but he was bound to, right? how long can someone go while being constantly made to feel like lesser of a person before completely snapping?
draco had gone eleven years. and counting. maybe potter was stronger than he looked? maybe they had a lot more in common then draco wanted to admit.
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"we're nothing alike!" he snapped at crabbe, bewildered he'd ever suggest such a thing. "he's a little, stupidly famous, glottouness prick. he lived with muggles his entire life, he's friends with that mudblood-" who draco really didn't mind, come to think of it. "and that filthy weasley." who he'd never actually met properly. "and he thinks he's so fucking great because what? he said some gibberish as an infant and voldemort went away?" he shouts, glaring at both of them trying to keep his eyes from watering. he could feel the burn of the salt in his eyes from the tears building up. he'd said his name, nothing could stop him now.
"alright mate, no need to get your panties in a twist." goyle frowns at him, stepping back as draco's face reddened.
"get my panties in a twist? get my panties in a fucking twist? honestly, goyle, do you have any bloody clue what you're on about? my father has been up my ass because of potter ever since voldemort left. you know what, fuck you. fuck both of you." draco says angrily, starting to walk back to his dorm. he stormed past potter, finding the worst time to let any noise out of his mouth; especially a distressed whimper.
"are you alright?" harry asks gently, draco freezing at the sound of his voice.
he lets out a shaky, sarcastic laugh. "do i look alright? do i look any fraction of the tormenting word?" he throws his hands up, whipping around to face the other boy. his face was red and blotchy, tears streaming steadily as he frantically tried to wipe them away.
"do you wanna come to the bathroom with me?" harry mumbles, taking a few steps towards draco who immediately backed away. "just," he lets out a soft sigh. "come with me, okay?"
draco nodded meekly, following harry to the bathroom.
"what do you want, potter? gonna tell your gaggle about how you caught me crying?" draco sniffs, hugging his knees to his chest with his back pressed against the cold wall.
"no. i just wanna know what happened." harry says softly, sitting across from him. he looked thoughtful, intuitive, gentle, and willing to listen. he made draco feel better, he made him feel calmer and have more coherent thoughts. fuck, draco hated to think. he knew he was in his head too much but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"i think i forgot to take my-" he stopped himself. he wasn't going to tell harry about anything in his secret box. harry didn't deserve to know. "nevermind."
"i won't tell anyone you're on medication, draco. it's nothing to be ashamed of, either." harry says, his first name sounding pleasant in his mouth.
"do you really want to know, then?" he raises an eyebrow at harry as he stared into the soft blue. draco's eyes were filled with hate, sadness, love. looking into them, harry felt as if he would drown trying to decipher everything going on inside of them. harry only nods though, giving draco the air to speak. "i take lofepramine. it's some stupid drug to help my serotonin or whatever. don't go looking into it, and don't tell that bloody granger anything about it. she'd probably show up at my door with a list of its ingredients and all the side effects it has." he mumbles, looking at his hands and how they trembled ever so slightly.
"is that an antidepressant? draco are you depressed?" harry asks, his voice laced with shock.
"i don't want to talk about it." he whispers.
"i'll listen whenever you're ready." harry replies.
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