#I am deceased from joy and awe

[paragonrobits]

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"That it is pessimistic and overly reductive to look at the deplorable state of history and declare that humanity is an inherently irredeemable bastardous monster to its core, but that one must still recognize that evil is, as far as we know, a uniquely human invention. An animal by and large does what it must to survive, and even if they can hate and care and feel much of the same things we do, it is the unique human capability to be kind when there is no reason to do so, and also to revel in the suffering of others because its fun."

"ohhh, you've been on the internet again. Was it people being weirdly gleeful about wanting homeless cats to suffer because they're dangerous to prey species or whatever?"

"Yes, in part. Seeing people on line act like you're weak for wanting to take care of a species we helped make or be dismissively callous about it is certainly one reason. But also one must consider... cruelty is, as best as we can see, uniquely human. Charity is something we see in animals, too, and they are not without the capacity to be cruel, but on a broad scale? An institituional one? Oh, that is very human indeed. The only thing older than agriculture, words and evidence of the crutch is, unfortunately, evidence of the mass grave."

"Are you crying?"

"It's funny, you know. Smugness. It keeps coming back to people being snotty about this sort of stuff. You imagine people say these things, and inside they're going 'look how much smarter I am than all those chumps who BELIEVE in people or don't think about it'. It's cruel, isn't it? So horribly, terribly awful. Thinking of history. Of how people don't seem to learn, or change... that maybe on some level, we can change, but it just... keeps, not happening, People think its funny. ...Why would anyone think that's funny? Pain is pain, from a week ago too a hundred years ago to thousands and thousnads, but... oh, my god. Is history just a trail of blood and indifference?"

"There's good things, too, you know."

"Yes, I know. We were burying people together with their deceased pets before there was ever a written language, yes... yes. It's older than weapons, I hope. But it doesn't seem louder than the history of indifference. I wish I believe we could change but... now, I think the thing more dangerous than the joy of hurting others for its own sake, is the thought that goes 'why should I care?' The little part of the mind that shuts down thinking of someone as 'people' in the right situation, or glorifies in the suffering of others."

"You've a lot on your mind, huh."

"Not so much. Its those thoughts that's been there for a while. But then you start thinking about how much that people, even ones who want to call themselves good people who care about dignity and compassion and freedom, fall over themselves to feel good at thinking about hurting other people, or just think its fun to be bastards. It's certainly not good for harboring illusions about humanity."

"...Wait, did you say illusions?"

"...Ah."

"I know you're upset about stuff, but are you really implying that you worry that deep down, that cruelty is who we are?"

"I don't want to think about it. I really, really hope not. But sometimes, when you see the mirror opened to the world and its just an endless stream of people competing to be the biggest sadists possible and imagining themselves more heroic the more horrible they are, its so tempting to just dumb everything down to it."

"Oversimplification is a bit of the same thing I think you fear from that kind of person."

"Perhaps not a kind of person. A mindset, really. An angle to slide into, that's so easy to slide if you don't carefully look at yourself and make sure to step back when it goes too far."

[whenemmafallsinlove]

hey taylor!! now that we are all in our 1989 Taylor’s Version era i thought what better way to be in my 1989 era than to write a letter to you on tumblr like i used to do nine years ago when i was just 15 years old. 🫶🏻 if you’re here, and you want the story behind these pics, click away. 🫶🏻🥰🫶🏻

so much has changed since those days. in the original 1989 era, i was a high school sophomore just as obsessed with you then as i am today. i remember being so in awe of the secret sessioners and thinking what a dream! too bad that will never be me.

today, in YOUR version of the 1989 era, aka the only version in my book, im living my best life. i’ve long since grown up, graduated nursing school, came out as a lesbian, WENT TO A SECRET SESSION AT YOUR INVITATION?!??, and am now engaged to the love of my life, Briley, who is also a swiftie. we have one dog and four cats - as last august, the cat distribution system worked when two kittens covered in fleas walked up to us on the street. we named them august and betty. i made them cardigans. i also made your cats cardigans but don’t know how to get them to you. 🤣

anyways, let’s get to the engagement part of things bc when i tell you this is the weirdest, most full circle fairy tale.

let’s start by saying the speak now era has always been extremely special to me because on august 13, 2011 my amazing mom took me and my sister to our first ever concert - the speak now world tour. that show was so magical and perfect for a little twelve and ten year old who thought you were a literal princess. i literally joined your online fan forum the next day!!

the first place i ever listened to lover was your house in nashville. okay, moving on. nothing crazy about that sentence at all.

flash forward, i moved from st. louis to kansas city to live with my amazing girlfriend. we went to the opening weekend of the tour in glendale, where i got a mirrorball tattoo bc of you playing it (and a tweet i made about it…) then we went to nashville night one.

i was already like deeply in my feels about going to your concert in nashville bc that would be the second time i would listen to the lover songs in nashville. i didn’t know how i could ever top the first time!! briley had me covered - she proposed during lover!!!!

then later that night you announced speak now tv. and it was going to be released on the day of the kansas city n1 show - where we live, where we were going. this special era i had been so looking forward to.

then the vault gets announced and there’s a song called when emma falls in love????? what?!?

so at kc n1, i was with my mom and sister and my fiancée was across the stadium with her best friend. i was already dead deceased because you played long live, but then you played NEVER GROW UP. WITH MY MOM AND SIS THERE. we swayed and cried.

THEN YOU PLAYED WHEN EMMA FALLS IN LOVE. TAYLOR I LITERALLY DIED. we as fans always joke that the stars align so mysteriously for you and that night i really felt like they did for me too.

anyways, you probably won’t ever see this (that’s how you have to sign ever letter to taylor on tumblr off!!) but just in case you do, a reminder that i love you so endlessly. my fiancée and i are getting married just outside of kc on 5/25/25 and we would love to see you there.

a thousand hugs to my fav blondie, emma (friendlyneighborhoodpegacorn) (positive hour girl who now runs swifferwins on twitter, an account dedicated to celebrating swiftie joy!!)

ps peep the mirrorball tattoo, the state of grace tattoo, and the long live tattoo (not pictured: the folklore tattoo on my ankle) the only thing missing is a handwritten “all we are is skin and bone, trained to get along” tattoo from you!!!

[gravemations]

The Northwood Documents: Cold Reports chapter 3 PT2

Achieve

You haven't done one of these in years but this is the best time to do it when you're having weird dreams, even if they are dreams. 

You decided to get up and get your uniform on as you make breakfast, bacon and eggs is always a good option. 

As you clean up your plate and grab your keys and get into your car to get to the local police office, the building from the outside looks old with a red brick exterior and wood banisters but walking inside it was surprisingly modern.  

You walk up to the desk and gain the attention of the person there, they were an officer as well. They were an older man probably late 40s early 50s definitely balding but hiding it under his hat.      

The man looks up from the computer as he spots you walking in. 

”You must be Officer Olivia Hills from the Portland Department, I am Officer Stanton. Glad you could make it safely.” Stanton said with his gruff but friendly voice. 

Olivia stood there for a second before responding to the man still thinking of what happened last night. 

”Oh yes, that would be me.” Hills responded, reaching out a hand to the man behind the desk. 

 The man took her hand and gave her a warm handshake, as he caught his breath. 

”Sorry things have been very ruff lately, that is why you're here.” The man exclaimed to Olivia. 

”You see things here in Northwood have not been going well for years now, numbers of cold cases that go nowhere, violent deaths and a killer we haven't been able to catch. You see you're here cause one of our own was found dead 2 weeks ago and we need some extra help with the investigation and you had a good record with the portland department.” The man suddenly looks at his hands as he holds a photo of the deceased officer.

Olivia stands still as the man explains the woes of this small town as she takes mental notes on this on everything that Stanton said. 

”I'll help out as much as I can around here and I hope to be able to find this killer that has been haunting this town!” Olivia exclaimed with a furious passion. 

The older man laughed with joy at the determination that Olivia had for a town she had only lived in for a day. 

” It's good to have a new Officer onboard to bring back inspiration to this old police station.Any way your office is down the hall to the left 3 doors down”  Stanton had pointed down the right hall. 

Olivia smiled and thanked Stanton for the talk, She entered her new office. She could tell that the old office belonged to the past Officer due to flowers still being on the desk with a photo of the man. Could not have been much older then she was. 

 She decided to move the monument to a side desk in the corner and set up all of her notes and stationary as she turns on the computer and decides to look up if there were any files on this Jayden Maverick. 

After looking through a number of files she had found Jayden records, she spent a good hour looking at it. Sadly the information found was not actually a lot which was disappointing. Most of it had been corrupted over time and a lot of the information on the file was conflicting about them. Almost like the universe itself didn't want her to know about them. 

From family to even their gender and occupation, it was either unreadable or just contradicting itself constantly, but sadly there was one thing about them that wasn't corrupted. A death report, their body was discovered at the nature reserve and they were pronounced dead at the scene back in 1997 on October 31 at 3:00 AM found by a Parkranger after hearing distant screaming and finding their body heavily scarred and their forearms removed. Clear evidence of a murder but the case ran cold and has been sitting here with other similar cases.

 Olivia was saddened with this information, she felt awful even if she never actually met Jayden. But this didn't dissuade her from trying to find more about them; this just made her even more wanted to find out what happened to them and anyone else who had been affected.  

After work and getting out of her uniform Olivia decided to go into town and ask people about if they knew anything about Jayden Maverick, most people she talked to about them couldn't even recall the person ever lived here. Others who did said that they were insane and mentally ill. That they were a delusional trouble maker back in the day. 

This sentiment was carried most strongly by the town news anchor Ather Conners, the man from the news report that Jayden pulled a clip from and put in his video.

This old man went on a 30 minute rant about how that kid was an annoyance and was a danger to the town back in the day. Even though his criminal record was only theirs, they interrupted live reports with his theories and the accidental trespassing.  

Note to say she didn't like Ather Conners, he was a bitter old man that had no tolerance for anything. She could see that Jayden probably did need help but that doesn't mean that you can smear the name of a kid long past his tragic death.  

Most of the sidewalk interviews were not useful to Olivia but an interesting detail from a few people said that Jayden in the last week of their life a few remember them being very paranoid more than usual and become a recluse. This was something she would write down for latter

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

  She decided to go home and collect all the info she had that she gathered, from the information she found that the killers first attacked around early June of 1997 with its first killings happening in September.  The first recorded murder of the killer being Molly and Roman Cornwell, both of them were found dead in the forest with deep scarring and missing limbs. 

A common sign of this Northwood Killer is he doesn't just go for the kill, he will often go for more drawn out deaths. Making non lethal cuts and bruises and then removing limbs letting their victims die from blood loss.      

She has discovered that 40% of its victims do get away from the first attack just for them to either die a week later or be institutionalized due to them going insane and becoming a threat to themselves and others afterwards.(She will try to get into contact with those who have had contact with it that are still alive)  

She had spent a whole week On this note map and worked on the death of the officer. That cause happened to be running cold due to the lack of information they could find. 

Footprints disappearing out of nowhere, misinformation from different sources, data corruption and it just seems that people are just forgetting about his existence entirely.  

She was not doing better. It's been a week since she started looking into this case and her moving here . notes would go missing on her noteboard, reading becomes harder every day and her house just doesn't feel safe; it feels like she is always being watched now. 

She had not had any more word dreams like she had on her first night, that didn't comfort her though. While she was in thought she looked down and remembered the tapes. There were still more of them, she turned to them and picked out the next  tape to put it into the tape player on her CRT as the screen turned on.   

 ”Mite as well as watch it to get this feeling off my mind.”

[coyoteskenning]

Chapter 4: Interview with the Angel

Pamaros pressed an elbow into the roughly hewn rocky arm of its lunar throne, and gestured as if leaning its head on one hand.

It wasn’t, of course – the wispy plasma edges slowly rotating, gyrating, burning eye-wheels-within-wheels ‘head’ didn’t even touch its darkened bronze gauntlet hand – but it orientated it as if pressed into the chin of an invisible skull, containing within it its actual head.

The first question transmitted via the probe that sat in the moondust in front of it came from a representative of NASA, so permitted because they had organized this mission, on a tight timescale and at great expense.

“Is there anything we need to add to our physical laws or understanding of science?”

I WOULD NOT SAY SO.

“…Not even concerning this, spiritual world you’re talking about-“

YOUR SCIENCE HAS DEVELOPED TO DESCRIBE AND EXPLAIN THE PHYSICAL WORLD. WHERE IT BLEEDS – MYSELF, FOR EXAMPLE, OR THE KNOWLEDGE OR SKILLS EXHIBITED BY INCARNATED SOULS – YOUR SCIENCE WILL INEVITABLY BREAK DOWN. YOU CANNOT EXTEND YOUR LAWS TO IT. NO EXTENSION IS NECESSARY. IT IS NOT A FIELD IN WHICH YOUR, MEN OF SCIENCE, CAN SPEAK.

The format of this interrogation was strange, but had been divined by the specially appointed council for the task after only a few weeks of work. Pamaros had told them ‘speak, and I will hear.’ Initial attempts at simply speaking on Earth had not worked, and had in fact made the people standing outside yelling at the moon look quite silly. Despite misgivings, it was ultimately judged that the best course of action would be to land an unmanned probe on the Moon, that would broadcast – what should be – silent speech into the airless void there.

To the physicists’ absolute horror – or in one case, awed joy – they had seen Pamaros on the camera calmly watching the buggy approach its throne, and when they broadcast a hail, received a response that rang deeply in all their heads, a bass thrum at the base of their skull that hummed up into words in their ears and dissolved still up into buzzing signal noise in their scalps.

The next question came from a theologian, of Christian descent.

“Do you serve God, or a god, or gods?”

NO.

“Did you once serve a God?”

…

WHAT IS IT THAT YOU MEAN BY GOD?

“Were you once bound to orders by a higher force? What shape did it take? Tell us of it.”

I AM NOT BOUND.

“I didn’t ask if you are.” This theologian had long exceeded his allotted term, but this particular question had caught the interest of everyone in the room enough to allow it. “I asked if you ever were? Were you created? Are you an angel?”

‘ANGEL’ IS NOT A WORD I HAVE EVER USED TO DESCRIBE MYSELF. IT IS AN, EXTERNAL, DESCRIPTOR.

“So you are not an angel of God, in the sense Abrahamic faiths talk about?”

THAT WOULD DEPEND ON THE BOOK. AND THE. VERSE.

The theologian was getting irritated now. “Sir. Do you serve God as I believe in Him? Are you a Holy being, or something base? Of matter? An extraterrestial, perhaps? From whence did you come? And why-“

.

That final stop was a loud thud into the skulls of everyone in the room. It was a telepathically transmitted period, something like a book slamming shut. They still felt its presence, staring at them silently, but the dark boiling in their stomachs told them it would be a very, very bad idea to push this topic.

The next question came from a lawyer.

“Are the reincarnated the same people as the deceased?”

THAT IS A MATTER OF OPINION.

“If a reincarnated person lives long enough, will they become identical to the deceased?”

NO.

“Will they regain all their memories?”

NO.

“Are they, essentially an amalg-“

“Hey, don’t hog it!”

There was a shout from off camera; someone shoved the lawyer away, pushed their way to the front. The explanatory text on the bottom still showed the lawyer’s name and occupation for a few moment as they started speaking, before showing that they were a diplomat.

“Will you intervene in human affairs?”

I HAVE.

“…More..?”

NO.

“What powers do you hold?”

I AM NOT BOUND.

The next was another physicist.

“I am the reincarnation of the physicist Galileo Galilei. I incarnated twelve days ago.”

I CAN SEE THAT.

“I know things that Galileo would never have known, however. I have received…knowledge, pertinent to fields that were invented long after his death. I have received skills that he did not hold. How can this be?”

I AM A BEARER OF KNOWLEDGE UNTO THE PEOPLES OF THE EARTH. THE DEAD ARE MY. EMISSARIES.

“So they receive this information from you?”

I HAVE CREATED THE CONDITIONS FOR IT TO BE REVEALED.

“Why?”

I CHOSE TO.

“Why did you-“

.

Next, and final, another theologian.

“Is there a Nirvana?”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?

“Some release? From the cycle of reincarnation? An end, to this repeating?”

.

.

.

The angel moved its hand down casually from its ‘face’, so that both hands were placed on the arms of the chair. It lazily raised its other – left – hand.

There was a flash of light like a gunshot, streaking out across the black of the lunar vacuum, and fragments of blown-apart probe went tumbling up out of the orbit of the moon, gone past escape velocity into the sky.

As the billowing clouds of dust settled, the moon’s face was now etched, amongst billions, with one more crater.

Back down on earth, the humans, once they had recovered from the cringe of three sharp telepathic knocks to the skull, that left their guts boiling like they’d been shocked by an infrasound predator’s roar, fell into a furious argument about who had said what, about how they should have asked about karma and sin or hell, about whether they’d angered it with that final question, about what had happened to the probe, and about if that money had all been wasted. This only intensified when it was found – admittedly not to the surprise of many – that their recorders hadn’t picked up a word of what Pamaros had said. Immediately, they began disagreeing on the exact wording of what had been said. Within minutes, several distinct accounts of the interview, to be disseminated to different competing media organisations and different opposed governments and interest groups, had grown up.

But away from this, one scientist – the one who’d smiled in joy when Pamaros’ voice had fallen in through the vacuum, rather than recoiling in startled horror like all the rest – had rushed out of mission control and swung herself onto the balcony outside, to see the pale dimpled penny full moon, hanging bright and ordinary and intact in the sky, same as it ever had been every single previous night of her life, and breathed a sigh of relief.

[bunni-bino]

You » Part One

HERE IS THE LONG - AWAITED FIC THAT YOU ALL VOTED FOR!

The winner was Trafalgar Law! I hope you all enjoy! :D 🤍

I CAN’T THINK OF TITLEEEE!

Clearly, this won’t be what you all are expecting.

Summary : Arriving at an island you’ve been longing for, Law discovers some truth about you and himself. not good with summaries

Part Two Here!

-

“Trafalgar Law!”

Law lowers his head to hide the look of annoyance his face immediately plasters, exhaling out when he hears you call his name.

“What is it, [Name]-ya?” He mutters out questioningly, slowly raising his head to look at you, seeing you walk up to him.

“Do you mind if we make a stop at the nearing island?” You hum as you glance up from your stack of papers in your arms.

“Why?” Law furrows his brows and you frowned.

“You have to question everything I ask you? Let’s just look around for a bit and maybe pick up some supplies anyways!”

“We’ll just draw attention, we don’t need to pick up anything either. Everything is in stock.” Law simply replies, turning back down to his book.

You huff out and scribbled something down on your stack of papers. “Then let’s just visit for a bit! I heard it’s an island known for it’s beautiful view at night and-“

“No.” He flatly refused making you pout.

“But-“

“No.” He repeats monotonously, not giving you a chance to attempt to persuade him.

“Geez, you didn’t even let me finish!” You remark and Law ignores you.

Puffing your cheeks, you turn on your heel and clicked your tongue.

“Fine, you’re the captain.” You mutter in defeat, hiding your dejected tone as you began walking out and shut the door.

Waiting a few seconds, Law glances up at the closed door, where you were standing in front of the whole time and shuts his eyes.

-

In fact, he already knew why you wanted to visit the island a few ways ahead. It was a well known island, after all.

Many pirates and marines alike all went to visit the island at least once in their life. It was truly an experience.

The island was called, “The Home of Stars”, known for its beautiful night sky view filled with stars all over, wherever you looked. The moon was always bright and full.

Even more, yearly tradition the islanders there had was festival of the lights. Where the clock strikes midnight and everyone would light up their lantern and release it into the air.

People would either write their wishes upon the lanterns or messages towards the stars in the sky, since it was believed that the stars were actually the deceased of loved ones.

Whether there was a annual festival or not, the islanders still often sang, danced and shared food with another and just enjoy life to its fullest.

The native men sounded drums/bongos and put on entertaining skits on stage, while the native women sang and danced. Sometimes both genders would do both, and it was all in fun.

It was even rumored and believed to be the cause of many successful couples and relationships, for those who went to the island.

Truly an island of hope and peace.

And coincidentally, that special day of the festival was today, right at midnight.

-

Exhaling in a bit of annoyance, Law rubs the back of his head and stood up, setting his book on the desk.

Heading to the door, he walked out and began looking for Bepo.

When he found his polar bear with Shachi and Penguin, he called out for his navigator.

“Oi, Bepo! Change course to the coming island.”

All three crewmates lifted their head confusingly towards their captain. “Really? Why?” Shachi questions and Law only sighs.

“Just do it already, we should get there before 10PM.” Law orders and Bepo straightens up, nodding and saluting to Law instinctively.

“R-Right!”

And with that, Bepo began rushing off to change course, leaving Law alone with his two crewmates, Shachi and Penguin.

“What’s the reason for the sudden change of course, Captain? We need to stock up on supplies?” Penguin hums, turning to face the stoic male.

Law didn’t say anything and looks away, his mind going straight to you. He thought, sighing deeply. “No reason.”

‘You better be grateful, [Name]-ya. Only for you..’

-

“Ahah!”

Seeing how excited you were when you saw the submarine was pulling up to the island you were so eager to visit, Law watched in slight amusement.

“The island! Ah! We’re going to the island!” You cheerily shout, earning the attention from the others.

Bepo gave his cute smile as Shachi and Penguin shared their grins at your cute excitement.

“Are you really that excited to visit some island?” Penguin hums and you laugh at him. “It’s not just some island, it’s THE island. ‘Home of the Stars’!”

“Huh? Home of The Stars?” Bepo tilts his head, confusion written all over his face. You nod with a bright smile.

“Known for its beautiful sky at night and tonight is the festival of the lights! I can’t believe it.”

That seemed to attract their attention as Penguin and Shachi both ran up to you to ask questions.

“Woah, a festival? Is there women?!”

“What’s it like there?”

“Are the stars that pretty?”

Bepo makes his way over to Law and smiles a bit. “Are we heading there for [Name], Captain?” Law didn’t say anything, just clearing his throat.

Whilst you were explaining everything you knew about the island, you glance over and saw Law and brighten your smile.

“Law! What made you change your mind? I thought you said we couldn’t go?” You raise a brow to him and Law turns away.

“We just have to pick up some stuff is all. Then we’re leaving.” He answers and you pout.

“What? If you’re going to an island, you might as well stay for the festival too! Even if it wasn’t tomorrow, you’d wait there for the whole year just to experience it!”

“Hah?! Who would do something as stupid as that?”

An irk mark formed on your head at his question but before you could argue back and protest, Shachi interrupted you.

“Wait, how do you even know so much about the island, [Name]? I thought you were just an orphan from Sabaody?”

All eyes turned to you and you gave a soft smile.

That was true. You weren’t a pirate and you were never part of Law’s crew. You were just someone they happened to meet and you pleaded to join them until you found your home island somewhere in the New World.

It’s already been nearly a year and a half. Just a little over a year since you’ve been with them and you’ve grown close with them.

But you knew you were bound to leave them eventually. Especially considering you weren’t an official crew member.

“Yeah.. I am. I guess I just heard about it from passing pirates and marines.” You chuckle sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head as Bepo, Shachi and Penguin nodded in understanding.

However, Law wasn’t convinced. But he kept silent as you continue to explain what you knew about the island to the others.

-

“Land Ho!” You cheer, finally arriving and practically leaped off the deck and onto the dock the island had.

Law sweatdrops at your actions, reminding him of a particular straw hat, and it was a bit annoying.

“Oi, wait, [Name]-ya!-“

“I’m so excited!” You grin, bouncing on your feet as you finally reached the island that you had long-awaited for.

Few of the passing islanders that were around the dock, either because they were heading out to fish, to bring in items from trade ships, or any other reason, turned their attention to the Heart Pirates, more specifically you.

“Remember, we’re only here to pick up some supplies. We’re not here for some little festival-“

You were too busy looking around in awe to listen to him, which made him scowl. “Oi! You’re not listening!-“

“Law, just relax and have some fun okay? It’s already evening, almost eight. It’s not going to kill you to stop schedule for a night, right?”

“Tch.” Law clicks his tongue and turns away from you, his reaction making you pout and also turn away.

The others could only sweatdrop at the interaction between the two of you, almost as if you two were little kids.

“What should we do first? Just walk around before we pick up supplies?” Penguin inquires, but before Law could respond, a few of the islanders walked up to them.

“Hello! You must be visitors, right? Pirates?”

Speechless at how cheery the group seemed, a man just held a bright smile and stepped forward. “No matter, you must be here for the festival!”

“No-“

“Yes!” You grin and walk up to the man, who seemed to share her joy and enthusiasm. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen it!”

“Oh? You’ve attended the festival before, Miss?” A woman hums beside the man and the others furrow their brows. “Now that I think about it, you do look somewhat familiar..”

“Eh? You’ve been here, [Name]?” Bepo gasps in surprise, Shachi and Penguin sharing his reaction.

“W-Well, actually-“

“Haha! Well, let me tell you this year will be bigger, better and different!” The man interrupts and gestures a hand into the city.

“Come, come! I’ll show you all around and be your tour guide until time for the festival.”

“Okay.”

Law mutters in defeat, having given up at this point. He was deadpanning at the sight of his own crewmates’ genuine interest in sightseeing around the island, having followed after the man with no hesitation.

You stood at a distance, letting the others walk ahead as you turned back to face Law, giving him a sly smile.

“Come on, doctor. You’re going to miss all the fun~” you tempted him, cheekily smiling and pointing in the distance where you could visibly see Bepo’s huge smile of awe.

Law clicks his tongue, a scowl forming on his face and clear agitation running through his body. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place.

“How adorable.” You giggle as you began walking ahead before he could make a comment to you.

“Oi!” Only you.

-

Unbelievable.

It’s been three hours, it was already reaching 11:30. Law and his crew members have spent the last three hours just walking around the whole island and exploring and trying new things.

Though, it was mostly Bepo, Shachi and Penguin.

And it seems halfway through the whole experience, you kept wandering off on your own and joining the crew moments later.

It made Law suspicious and almost wary of you.

After all, you weren’t part of his crew but some orphan who pleaded to board the submarine until you found your home, which you apparently had no idea where.

Of course, part of him didn’t feel to good about it but his concern for the safety of his crew came first before any doubts about you and your suspicious behavior.

“Hey, Captain! Should we buy a lantern for the festival?” Bepo eagerly asks, clearly wanting to do it, just as Shachi and Penguin.

“It doesn’t matter.” Law sighs, already ready to end this night before a familiar voice interrupts.

“Of course it matters. It’s the special festival.”

Turning over, the four of them came face to face with you, in a particular outfit.

You wore an off-the-shoulder white dress, with green palm leaves and red flowers as patterns all over the knee high dress. On your head was a little flower crown.

“And where have you been?” Law asks, narrowing his eyes at your new appearance and sudden presence.

Despite his questioning and skeptic, annoyed expressions, he couldn’t help but admire your appearance in the dress.

It wasn’t how you normally dressed so it was different. And Law actually really liked it, giving a few more glances to fully settle in your new look.

Before you could answer, Bepo and the others intercepted. “[Name]!”

“Wow, you look so cute in that!”

“Did you leave to change into that?”

“Hey, [Name], should we buy lanterns?”

You chuckle at them and nod. “Of course you should. I’ll buy one with you, come on.” With that, you began leading them towards the nearby shop and walked in.

Law only stood outside with a sigh, rubbing his temple to ease the headache that was just slowly forming.

It didn’t take long for you and the others to come out, with five lanterns and a couple sharpies to write the message onto them.

“Captain!” Bepo calls out, heading over to the doctor and held out the lantern and marker. “Here!”

“..why did you get one for-“ you roll your eyes and smile, handing out the markers to the others.

“Could you quit being so inquisitive and just accept it? It won’t hurt to participate in the festival.”

Law eyes you as you turn away and look to your own lantern. “Come on, it’s already 11:43.”

Knowing he was still staring, you uncapped your sharpie and stuck the cap in between your teeth. “Write your message.”

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin all turn to their captain with grins before turning to their own lanterns and uncapped their markers, beginning to write.

Law exhales deeply, muttering some silent curses under his breath and uncapped his sharpie.

However, he wasn’t writing.

He could only stare blankly at the lantern, an unknown feeling washing over him.

He then gives a side glance to you, seeing you finishing up your message and releasing a soft smile to yourself, clearly content and satisfied with your wish.

Law then gives a closer look to your lips, the way the corner of them would curl up and suddenly felt a weird warmth in his chest. He frowns and inhaled sharply, lifting the marker.

‘These things don’t actually work, so why bother?..’

But seeing how enthusiastic you were about these lanterns, he could only just go along and do the same.

Writing his own wish, his deepest, inner desire inside him and then capped the marker.

Staring down at wish he unconsciously wrote without much thought, he deadpans slightly and clears his throat.

‘Let me live a happy life.’

He sweatdrops at himself, wondering where that came from but didn’t say anything.

“Did you write your wish, Law?”

Hearing your gentle voice, he looks up to see your warm and curious smile.

Law closes his eyes. “I wrote something.” He simply states, handing you the marker and you take it with a hum. “Can you tell me what it was?”

“No.”

Cheeks puffed out into a moue, you hear someone calling out for you.

“[Nickname]! It’s time!”

The others look over with questioning glances, surprise at the sudden shout of a person. “[Nickname]?..” Penguin questions to himself, brows furrowed.

“Okay! I’m coming!” You call out, waving your hand towards the person before turning to the others, smiling brightly.

“You guys should come, come on!”

Gripping your lantern, you began heading down the street, where the plaza was, in a hurry and left the others stunned.

“Wait, [Name]!” Shachi calls but you were already heading off quickly.

Bepo turns to Law, who only scowls at you and pulls his hat down tightly. “What should we do, Captain?”

“Damn it, [Name]-ya..” he mutters out harshly, clearly stressed over how much trouble you’re causing them.

Tightening his grip on the lantern, he sighs deeply.

“Let’s just go..”

Just what are you up to now?

-

This doesn’t seem as good as I hoped... 🤔😭

A/N : that’s the end of part one! I know it’s not what a lot of people expected but I hope you enjoyed it regardless ;-;

Also in all honesty, when I first thought of this idea, it wasn’t supposed to be so fucking long.

And to all those supporters of mine 💗🥺 thank you so much for your kind words. 🥰

The more interesting scenes are in part two :p

Can y’all tell me what you think though? ;-;

[shinobirain24]

It was a Saturday afternoon and Weiss and Neptune held hands to meet his parents for the first time. It was then that the two looked at each other and blushed, smiling. "What's wrong, Snow Angel?" Asked Neptune.

Weiss ran her hand into her cheek in nervousness. Thinking of the reaction of his parents once introduced. "I don't know, Neptune. Ever since we got engaged. I am not sure how your parents would react, cause you know..." Weiss said.

Neptune figured that because she is a Schnee. She thought she would get rejected. But he knew otherwise that her personality counts and not her name. "Hey, don't worry about it. I am sure my parents would have to get to know you first. Least my brother won't be here to ruin the mood. On the bright side when I met your mom, she is actually nice, and too exciting when we told her the news."

-One month ago-

Willow gripped on Neptune's hand a bit tightly as she just got excited for their engagement. And saw some kindness in him. Unlike Weiss' father, Jacques. Weiss never saw this side of her mother before. Normally she would be more composed.

"Give me grandchildren!" She told him. Making Neptune eye-widened. Weiss is also jolted at this reaction.

"Mother!" Weiss and Whitley sighed.

-Present-

"Sorry about that. I never saw this side of my mother before. But she seemed better than before since my father is now gone." Weiss said. Even a bit shocked at her mother's reaction. She was glad that she accepted her fiancé. If her father were here, he would've went after him like a tyrant, which he already was.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm glad things gotten better since the wars." Neptune said. Recalling the events of meeting Willow. "Also, I might have to want you about my sisters." Neptune stammered. Weiss looked at him with surprise as m she did not know he has sisters.

"I don't know you have sisters." Weiss blinked. "What about them?"

"They are triplets, Vesta and Juno went to Haven together, while Ceres is a doctor, she's sweet and all, so there's nothing to worry about cause I think you might get along with her just fine. Needless to say, Juno and Vesta can be a bit of a powerhouse. It's safe to say they are overprotective of me. The last guy who picked on me got sent to the hospital after Juno and Vesta beat him up badly." Neptune rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh, I guess they couldn't help but love their little brother. Take it from my sister, she always believed I have to be on my own feet. But it doesn't stop her from helping me find my own ground." Weiss said.

Then minute they knocked the door. Weiss breathed a bit to keep calm when meeting others. Then when the door opened and Neptune's father Saturn is the first on the front door. "Son?" He greeted.

"Hey, dad. Sorry it's been too long...and..." Before he could say anything, Saturn greeted his son with a hug. "I am so happy you finally come for a visit!" He teared up. And then turned to Weiss. "Oh, who is this lovely young lady?" Weiss then introduced herself.

"Please to meet you, Mr. Vasilias. My name is Weiss Schnee, and your son is very wonderful." She smiled whole blushing at the same time seeing how sweet the reunion was between father and son. "It's a pleasure, Miss Schnee." He greets.

"Saturn, what's this all about?! I thought I heard panic, but..." His wife, Lydia covered her mouth in shock to see her son in person. She then launched herself into a hug. "My baby! Look how big you've grown!" She noticed his height almost as tall as her husband. "Great to see you too, mom."

Weiss is a bit astonished to see her fiancé's mother looking a bit younger than her husband. She must've been in good health. Lydia turned to Weiss and greeted her with a smile. "Oh my goodness. Neptune told me about you and you looked very beautiful!" Lydia squealed. As Weiss paled a bit that she never expect this kind of greeting before but did not say a word.

"Uh...thank you..." Weiss stammered. "You look also lovely as well." She told her back to ease up a bit. That's when Lydia gave her a hug, unexpectedly. The same reaction far joyful. Like Willow. "Come here!" She said. Weiss blushed, a little taken aback by the surprise. But tried to be polite. Then Lydia wrapped her arm around Weiss as she showed her the entrance. "Come on in, teriyaki and sushi can't eat themselves. Help yourselves!" She said cheerfully.

Then they all entered the house for a meeting. Later in the living room. "So I heard your sister is leading the military now, you must be very proud of her." Lydia said. Weiss nodded in agreement. "I am, she taught me in some way of gaining my own ground. Since my father is long gone, our family is free to chose our own paths."

Lydia sighed in relief for the mentioning of Jacques now deceased. "Well, I for one relieved. Ever since he framed Saturn for weaponry trafficking. I had to defend him in court. Not once he was ever locked up until now." Lydia recalled the case. This made Weiss paled a bit. But maintain her composure. "I for one, agreed. Not once did my father paid the price. I am also happy he is out of our lives."

"I am sure you don't deserve your father's treatment towards you. Your mother and I had been close at a young age. And for some reason, Jacques had been depriving her right to contact me. I couldn't help but feel bad for her. And as a result of the past, Jupiter grew to resent your sister."

"That I did not know. But once the wedding starts. You and my mother can make up for lost time." Weiss insisted. This got Saturn and Lydia surprised to hear that word. "You don't mean...?" They paused as Neptune and Weiss nodded as she showed them a silver ring that he used to propose to her. "Yep, he proposed to me." This brought joy.

Later, after the meeting. They decided to have some time to themselves. "Your parents are actually nice. Never have I thought they would be this joyful." Weiss admits. "From what I heard, your dad and your mom. They did work together on multiple cases. They seemed so happy together." Weiss said. A bit jealous that she never had parents like that.

"How so, Snow Angel?"

"The thing is, my parents were never like that. Form what I can remember, my father always kept his distance from my mother. All he did was give her a cold shoulder. For me, it was way harsher. The more I saw this, the more I thought some parents are like this, but it just wasn't right." Weiss told him.

"I get where you're coming from. Mom saw cases like that before. That's why I decided to work with law enforcement. To help others in need. When I was a kid. I used to call myself a coward. All those negative thoughts kinda blocked me from reality. I hate hurting others because of my semblance."

"Maybe that makes two of us. I'm glad you decided this yourself. I for one learned one thing. Seeing the world today, it was crazy, but it was also fun. If I were to still be an heiress, I wouldn't have met you today." Neptune took her by surprise by wrapping her arms around her in an embrace.

"You are the best one that's ever happened to me. I promised you, I'll do whatever so can for you. I don't care if you're a Schnee anyway. Your happiness is my happiness."

"Neptune, there's no need to be worked up about this! I appreciate it, really! But..."

"But I really mean it." Neptune finished. As they looked into each other's eyes.

Later, Saturn and Lydia present them the kimonos they were never familiar with. "Ta-da!" Lydia cheered. "Mom, what are these?" Neptune asked, a bit confused.

"These are what your father and I wore for our wedding! Black for the groom and white for the bride! Those are actually Mistral's traditional wear. Dont they look so beautiful?!" Asked Lydia.

Weiss and Neptune looked at each other. "Actually, they are. What do you think?" Neptune is at a loss for words. "I am not sure..."

"Come on, son. It won't hurt if you tried it on first." Saturn said. Suddenly they heard a crash from the kitchen and they ran to check it out. It was two of the triplets, Vesta and Juno. Standing above a Nevermore they killed and made a hole in the walls. "Haha! Another day, another Grimm down! Take that!" Vesta then paid attention to her parents. "Sorry, Daddy! Juno is not the type to find landing spaces." Vesta apologized while Juno is too busy celebrating another hunt completed.

"Guys, seriously?!" Neptune groaned. Then his sisters jumped off to hug him. "Our baby brother is back!" Making Neptune feeling embarrassed. "Nice to see you too! Please let me go!" Neptune pleaded while his sisters gripped on him, being overly affectionate. "Aw, come on, don't be baby! Just a few more minutes!" Juno cheered. Then eyed on Weiss. "Who is she?"

"Um...hi." Waved Weiss. Suddenly, Ceres came home from work in the hospital. "Daddy! I'm home! I heard Neptune's back and...!" Ceres paused to see her sisters and the Nevermore. The turned to Weiss. "You must me Weiss. It's nice to meet you. Sorry about my sisters. Also, I have to warn you. Don't get me wrong. I love my brother, but he is a flirt." She whispered the last thing near her ear.

"Don't worry about it, it's nice to meet you too." Ceres seems genuine, but more likely to save other girls from heartbreak. Since she seems to be gentle but strict out of the triplets. Not sure is her brother changed or not. "Ceres! I'm not that guy anymore!" Snapped Neptune.

"Don't worry, I knew you grown. I am sure your sisters are amazing too." Weiss assured. Then Lydia grasped her hand. The same reaction Willow had shown before. "Please say you'll give me grandchildren!" Pleaded Lydia. Making the rest of the Vasilias household, except Vesta and Juno, paled. "Mom!" Shouted Neptune.

"Lydia! It's too soon to ask something too personal!" Saturn joined Neptune. "Mom!" Added Ceres. As much as Saturn wanted grandchildren, he knows patience is a virtue. And Lydia did not seemed to get any older, physically. As for Vesta and Juno, they are getting too excited to have a niece or a nephew. But for Weiss and Neptune, it was getting too much. But decides to wait until things have calmed down a bit.

"Eeek! Did you hear that?!" Juno squealed.

"Yeah, just give us a niece or a nephew! I don't care!" The sisters held hands and jumped up and down. Much to the dismay of their third triplet sister, Ceres. "Vesta, Juno, not you too. Did you not see the damage you caused there." Ceres gestured at the broken walls. "Lighten up, sweet sister! Think of all the fun we can have with their kids!"

"Want my advice? Get yourselves some boyfriends." Ceres advised strictly. But they are not listening.

"So, when's the wedding?" Saturn asked. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "We've been thinking a month later." Weiss replied. The couple looked at each other and smiled, knowing that it might not be a perfect wedding, but it will be a great time to spend with their families.

[jadelotusflower]

Roundup - September 2021

This month: Saving Fish From Drowning, Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass, Anne Boleyn, Cruella, The Chair

Reading

Saving Fish from Drowning (Amy Tan) - I've always enjoyed Tan's work (particularly The Joy Luck Club, both the book and film) - Fish is somewhat of a departure, following a group of American tourists in Myanmar, narrated by their recently deceased friend Bibi Chen. The novel begins with a preface in which Tan explains she drew inspiration for the novel based on real events chronicled by a San Franciscan psychic's "automatic writing" channeling Chen's spirit (in truth a complete invention on Tan’s part, both literary device and metaphor).

Bibi is a compelling narrator, full of wry commentary of her friends as they bumble their way through their trip, the tone of the novel quite light despite some of the dark subject matter around the political situation in Myanmar (the novel was written in 2005 and set several years earlier) and the nature of intervention - the title referring to fisherman who "save fish from drowning" by netting them. It was at times difficult to keep track of all twelve (!) of the main characters and who was who outside of the few who get the most attention of the narrative.

An interesting read, about the stories we tell ourselves and others, and the fictions we believe for comfort and hope.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass and what Alice found there (Lewis Carroll) - I've been making more of an effort to work on my novel lately, which makes some reference to these works so thought it was due for a re-read. It seems impossible to consider these separate novels given how conflated they have become in pop culture - even the Disney film takes elements from both - they act as either a duology, or alternatively a single story told in two parts.

I personally much prefer Looking Glass, perhaps because I imprinted on the 1985 miniseries as a child (which adapts both novels, but we only had the second part on tape) - best known for it's celebrity cameos in silly costumes - including Sammy Davis Jnr, Donald O'Connor, Ringo Starr, and Carol Channing, among others, and the danger of the Jabberwocky as a manifestation of Alice's fears quite a nice idea that isn't found in the original text.

Perhaps Looking Glass, while remaining absurdist, is more cohesive than Wonderland with the chess motif and central motive for Alice to reach the Eighth Square and become a queen. I do however find the constant poetry tedious, and wonder whether both Wonderland and Looking Glass are better remembered for the concepts rather than the actual text.

Watching

Anne Boleyn (episodes 1-3) - I didn't think we needed another film/show about Anne, but I was always going to watch it. This series relies upon familiarity with history as it begins with Anne's final, doomed pregnancy - opening with the haunting words “Anne is the most powerful woman in England - she has just five months to live.”

There's nothing especially new here; rather a mood and character piece as Anne's isolation and desperation grows. It is of course built around the central, compelling performance of Jodie Turner-Smith, in every single scene and not afraid to shy away from Anne's sharper edges while remaining profoundly sympathetic, surrounded by a court of whispers, her existence on a knife's edge. We know only what Anne knows, and we see the smaller, heartbreaking moments usually passed over in other adaptations - in her grief following the stillbirth, Anne sits up in bed almost catatonic, milk leaking from her breasts, her attempt to walk back the infamous “dead man's shoes” comment, and the long days of her imprisonment.

Then there’s the beautiful costumes - in a court of dark furs, Anne wears bold primary colours and velvets that catch the light, that them become more subdued prints once she is in the Tower.

The other notable feature is the casting - described as "identity conscious" rather than colour-blind, representative of the othering of Anne and her relatives. Another standout is Thalissa Teixeira as Anne's cousin Madge Shelton, fleshed out as her confidant and the only one who remains true to her. It's a fresh perspective and a worthwhile watch, particularly for Turner-Smith's performance.

Cruella (dir. Craig Gillespie) - Spoilers. I wasn’t planning on bothering with this, but my sister wanted to watch it and I’d been told by several people that it was actually quite good. Look, I'm not saying they lied, I just think they were able to look past things that I was not.

Because actually, the core story has potential and the film has enjoyable elements (notably Emma Thompson), but simply falters every time they try and shoehorn references to the source material, and there are some truly egregious attempts - Roger is the Baroness’s lawyer for some reason? And writes the familiar Cruella De Vil song about how awful she is when she's just given him a puppy?

It doesn’t work as a prequel, or villain origin story, or even a reboot, since Cruella’s character journey is over by the end of the film (I have no idea what the purported sequel is going to be about) - in fact "Cruella" is just a persona Stone's Estella adopts (complete with a terrible affected accent), and there is no conceivable way for her to become the wannabe puppy murderer we know from the book or any of the film adaptations. Oh, and Pongo and Perdita are siblings! Well done, Disney. Slow clap for you.

Also, with a runtime of 2 hours 16 minutes it is Interminable and the whole thing is saddled with a terrible, unnecessary voiceover. Seriously, they should show this in film class to demonstrate when v/o hinders not helps.

They were likely going for a Maleficent-style re-imagining, but where that succeeded (somewhat) in a completely new retelling right down to a different ending to the source material, this wants to have it's cake and eat it too - it wants to have the Cruella aesthetic (the car, the hair, Hell Hall, the camp accent) but doesn't ever let her be a villain, or even the beginnings of a villain, but that's that's reason she's so memorable in the first place. It puts all the pieces in place for the story we know, and yet that story simply cannot happen with this version of Cruella.

In the end, it's a story of a fundamentally decent person who maybe goes a bit overboard in retaliating to bullies, and swindles a sociopath to reclaim what's rightfully hers. Cruella De Vil! I just couldn't get over this fundamental misapplication of the source material.

In many ways, it almost feels as if this was pitched as a sequel, with Cruella in the Baroness role. It would have fit a lot better with the aesthetic, the time period, and the concept of punk disruption of classic fashion. Or, it was a completely unrelated story of a plucky orphan who rises in the fashion world, that at some point was grafted onto the Dalmatians property. Either one would have worked better, frankly.

I am probably being overly harsh. If you switch off your brain and enjoy the clothes it’s fine. But honestly, if you want your live action Cruella fix, just watch the Glenn Close version, because it is superior in every way.

The Chair (season 1) - I watched this for Sandra Oh, and I was not disappointed, because I got to watch Sandra Oh. On the other hand...it's not that I didn't like it, I just...wish it had been better?

The story revolves around Ji-Yoon Kim, the first woman (let alone woman of colour) to become Chair of English at a "minor Ivy" university, as she tries to juggle the clash of old style academia and new, raise her daughter as a single mother, and deal with a series of controversies caused by one of her professors (and love interest). It's the latter I feel sucked up way too much time and was ultimately unsatisfying - particularly the end, which was played like a moral victory but really rubbed me the wrong way. If this gets a season 2, I hope they dump Jay Duplass' fuckup sadsack because hoo boy, am I sick of that kind of male character.

But Sandra Oh is wonderful.

Writing

The Lady of the Lake - chapter 5 posted, 4215 words (10,261)

Against the Dying of the Light 1954 words (11,976)

Here I Go Again - 414 words (12,948)

Novel - 1039 words (1484)

Total this month: 7,622

Total this year: 48,435

[dirt-cup-draco]

Hermione x F!Reader - I Wish

hi!! may i request a hermione x female reader where it’s the trope of friends to enemies to lovers?

Your heart was stopped as you watched Hermione twirl in her dress for the Yule Ball. She was gorgeous. She had tamed her hair for the occassion but you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through the unruly threads and set her free from the confines of the clips and product. She was stunning like this, but you knew she was wild at heart. 

“You look amazing ‘Mione!” You nearly drooled, hoping she didn’t notice. 

“Aw, thank you!” She giggled back. “I’m more excited than I thought I would be, it’s a foolish dance but sometimes foolish things are needed.” She reasoned with herself as she smoothed her skirts down. Hermione was nervous, you realized. Her hands didn’t stop moving even if the rest of her looked composed. 

You took a step forward, grabbing one of her hands, unsurprising to find it was clammy. “You look great, Krum is going to be speechless, you have nothing to worry about,” You soothed her, jealous biting at you and making your stomach turn uncomfortably. 

“I hope so,” She sighed, squeezing your hand in a friendly manor before turning on her polished heel and swaying her way out of your shared dorm. It was a curse and a blessing. You got to spend every day with your best friend, but you had to keep your distance. You couldn’t be with her in the way you wanted. 

“Y/N, Harry is waiting,” Hermione called behind her and you sighed, stepping out of the room without even checking your appearance. You had gotten dressed up of course, it would be a sin not to. You loved your dress but your heart wasn’t in it tonight. You were lucky Harry hadn’t gotten a date and had instead asked you. He knew how you felt about Hermione.

You walked down the stairs, pushing past Hermione without another look. You might start crying if you did. The boys stared behind you with wide eyes and you were positive if you were to turn around she would be floating down the staircase, looking ethereal. 

“Lets go,” You muttered, grabbing Harry’s arm with the grace of an elephant on roller-blades as you dragged him into the winter wonderland decorated great hall. 

“You alright?” He asked as you slumped into a chair at a table that was tucked far into the corner. 

“Just peachy,” 

“You could tell her, you know,” 

You shook your head violently, eyes wide, staring at Harry like he was crazy for suggesting such a thing. You’d be less surprised if he had told you he was going to go fight Voldemort while riding a dragon right this moment. 

“Just drop it, please,” You begged and he finally sighed heavily, rolling his eyes but shutting up. Drama queen. You thought with a smile. “Want to dance?” You offered as a way to make up for snapping at him. 

“No,” He said but got up, offering his arm to you as you stumbled across the dance floor. You tried not to look at Hermione. It was too much, you couldn’t handle being around her most of the time now. Every time you were one nagging voice in your head told you to go for it, tell her. The other voice told you she would hate you if she knew you felt that way about her. You kept quiet. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur and it wasn’t until much later when you noticed her, red faced, storming up the stairs that you realized maybe she wasn’t having a fairy tale night either. 

“Everything going okay?” You asked hesitantly as you entered your dorm, hearing her sniffling. She was sat on her bed, a tissue pressed daintily to her eyes as she tried to keep her composure. 

“Not really.” She said honestly. “Ronald was being an absolute tosser,” 

You chuckled and sat beside her. “When isn’t he?” You joked back and she shook her head but her lips quirked up in a smile. 

“Um.. Could we talk?” 

“I’ve done plenty of that today, but sure,” She sighed and you immediately felt sick. 

“I- “ love you so much it hurts. I want to be with you. I want to call you mine and run my fingers through your hair and kiss your nose and rosy lips. I want to cuddle with you in front of the fire and hold your hand when we walk to class. “think we should stop being friends” What the fuck.

“Y/N?” Hermione croaked, eyes searching yours as she was taken aback by your words. “You’re joking right?” She already had been so torn up before you had come in and here you were making her night worse. 

But you couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t stand loving her from a distance anymore but you couldn’t tell her how you felt, you couldn’t handle it and so you were going to run away and burn some bridges.

“I wish- I wish we’d never met, quite honestly,” You added, voice nearly getting stuck in your throat as she went pale and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Why are you saying this?” 

“B-because I don’t like you,” I love you. I’m sorry. 

After that, you had switched dorms with some other Gryffindor who didn’t care enough about why you were asking and just decided she wouldn’t hate the change of scenery. You sat at the opposite end of the table during meals and you tried to pretend the first week you couldn’t feel Ron and Harry staring at you in disbelief while Hermione pretended you didn’t exist.

“Nice going,” Harry commented one day in class while you stood over a cauldron together. “Now none of us can hang out, we even mention you and ‘Mione goes into hysterics... She’s a wreck Y/N, you know she won’t show it but she needs you. Of all the things you could have said or done, why that? I thought Gryffindors were brave... You’re just a coward,” 

---

By the time the tournament was over and Cedric was being mourned, you had completely detached from your classmates. Ron, Harry and Hermione were once again the perfect trio and you were lonely. You missed her. She hated you. Summer came and you stayed home. You didn’t visit the burrow or have mock quidditch games with Ginny. You avoided answering letters except for sending a happy birthday to Harry. 

When Harry started the DA later that year. You joined, of course you would. You couldn’t let the awkwardness keep you from rebelling against Umbridge and preparing yourself for what was coming. You thought you had been preparing at least. Even as things got worse, you didn’t have the courage to face Hermione and tell her what you really felt. Not until it was too late.

----

She had heard the news from Ron. He had been pale and panicked, already crushed at the news of his brother’s death. And now, he was losing another friend. Hermione needed to know of course, he had gone to her first. Knowing she would be much easier to find than Harry in all this mess. Hermione had been talking to Luna, hearts heavy but looking up as the end was coming. The momentary hope and joy she had felt however had been smashed when Ron ran to her, gasping for air. “It’s Y/N, she won’t make it much longer. S-she asked for you.” 

Hermione Granger had never run faster in her life. Even with the tension between you two, she couldn’t imagine a world without you. And now that she was faced with that possibility, she needed to see you. You were placed where all the injured and all the deceased were. A bloody sheet placed over you as your eyes were shut against your ashen face. 

“Y/N,” She gasped, falling to her knees beside you not even caring as the rough stone beneath her scraped and burned her legs. She was grabbing your hand and tugging it to her chest, to her heartbeat. Maybe if you felt it yours would be convinced to beat stronger. 

“Am I dead?” You questioned, voice no more than a whisper. 

Hermione chuckled and brushed your hair from your eyes as your visage blurred with oncoming tears. “No silly, no you are going to be alright just hold on okay?” 

“I must be dead, Hermione wouldn’t talk to me even if it meant she got an Outstanding on all her exams,” You let out a dry chuckle but it just turned into a wheeze as you erupted into a coughing fit. 

“Shh, relax, please...” Hermione begged, hating how your lips were startlingly more pale, she was sick to realize they were starting to take a bluish hue. Her finger searched your neck and pressed hard against your pulse. Your heartbeat was still noticeable but she had to choke down another wave of tears as she noticed it was slowing. “I’m here, Y/N, its me. Ron told me you asked for me,” Her tears fell on your cheeks and the sensation had you opening your eyes.

“Hermione,” You said with a happy sigh, like you had just realized she was beside you. Your hand flexed in her own and she gripped it tighter, hands smoothing your hair down in an attempt to keep you present. “Merlin, I’m so glad you’re okay,” You spoke again, smiling at her even if it looked more like a grimace as you shifted, something causing you discomfort. Hermione wasn’t sure she could handle knowing what pain you might be in right now.

“I’m fine Y/N, now we have to get you better,” She jumped in, with what she hoped was an optimistic smile. 

“I... I don’t think I’m gonna get better ‘Mione. But I couldn’t go without telling you, Harry is right I’m a coward,” You muttered. 

“Please, don’t talk just rest. Save your strength... You aren’t making any sense,” Her voice was getting panicked and you could feel her tears fall more steadily from her eyes and onto your cheeks. 

“No, I can’t. Please, listen,” You begged, hand reaching up to brush against her cheek, forcing her to look into your eyes and not at the unsteady rise and fall of your chest. “I have had so many regrets, especially when it came to you but I can’t die knowing that I never told you...” 

“You aren’t going to die!” She argued but you continued. 

“I-In fourth year, I said things to you that I hate myself for everyday. I was stupid and scared and I let it tear us apart. I told you I didn’t like you because-” You were cut off by another violent wheeze, lungs grasping for any air they could be filled with as you felt your life start to leave you. “-because Hermione Granger I love you more than anything. It terrified me and I knew you couldn’t feel the same so I ran away and I couldn’t regret it more now, I am so sorry. I will always love you,” 

“Y/N-” Hermione started but with great alarm found that your hand had gone slack in hers, your eyes unblinking up at her. “No, no, no!” She cried, hand pushing at your chest and ear going to your mouth as she waited for your warm breath. It never came. Her tears started up anew and a pained scream ripped its way from her throat as she lay on you. “You can’t leave! Not again,” She wailed as you grew colder with every passing moment. 

“I wish I could have told her I felt the same,” Hermione choked out as Ron and Harry found her, pulling her from your body that was no longer anything more than a shell. Your soul had moved on. “I wish she knew I loved her too,” 

You looked down from above as the brightest witch of her age sobbed into Ron’s chest. You were nothing but a soul floating in the great beyond but if you had a heart it would have ached for her. I know now, and that’s enough. You thought as you gazed at your friends and your love. 

It would take some time, but you wished she would be able to move on. The way Ron’s arms tightened around her, his own eyes puffy and red from loss and tears, you thought she just might be alright. 

[yearning-mlm-hours]

Ok so tw discussing transmedicalism (and why it's bad) //

I feel like i probably should say this because I'm so tired of the argument between people who aren't in a good headspace to be arguing with each other, especially since that can prompt nasty things to be said

There is SOME truth to transmedicalism, but a lot of the details have been taken put of context or misinterpreted. You don't need gender dysphoria to be trans. What you DO need is Gender Incongruence, which is not the discomfort relating to your assigned gender, but rather the difference between the way you percieve your gender and what your gender was assigned at birth.

"But wait, mr. yearning mlm hours, isn't that what being trans is?" Yeah! Essentially, if you do not identify 100% with your birth gender at all times, you're some level of trans.

Now back to the transmed narrative. Why do they think you need dysphoria to be trans? Well, back in The Day, many people who had dysphoria would *medically* transition. Doctors noticed this and set it as the standard to recieve medical treatment. Also, many people who thought they didn't have dysphoria noticed feeling better after treatment, and so it was assumed these people didn't realize they had dysphoria in the first place due to denial. Whether or not that is the case is still undetermined, as most of those doctors are now deceased.

"Wait, aren't you dysphoric?" Yeah. I am. However, it didn't make me trans. It's a side affect of being trans. Before I first came out, I used to cry in dressing rooms trying on bras because I thought that my chest was too small or looked wrong, when in reality I just hated having a chest. I misinterpreted my own gender and discomfort because I was not only in denial, but just a kid. After coming out, I thought I didn't have dysphoria. I recognized how much better I felt identifying as another gender, which is where incongruence comes in, but I didn't really know that I would begin to feel discomfort about female puberty. Later, I started to feel worse and worse, still not understanding. It was only til I drew myself with short hair for the first time that I realized I was experiencing dysphoria, a side affect of being trans. My brain didn't recognize me as I was, because in my head I was not a girl, but I looked stereotypically feminine and was percieved as such, so I felt awful.

Now obviously, my experience with gender is not the only experience. Some people know, and have always been masc or femme, or never understand the incongruence until they're much older. Some people will never know.

Now I'm gonna address what is called the "tucute" side. Dysphoria isn't hating your body. I like my body, but it doesn't feel right to me. It's essentially comparable to "I like watching basketball, but I don't like playing it." Also, transmedicalism often stems from a place of "wanting to understand why" someone is trans. For a long time I wanted to know why, and when people offered an explanation, I simply agreed. Now, I've learned that the explanation I was given was not correct, and that there's not enough evidence to back it up, because so few trans individuals have offered to be part in the studies cited.

"Well, why don't a lot of people want to dress like their gender?" A lot of trans people, including myself, are somewhat or totally GNC. I understand that no matter how I dress, my body and voice are going to be seen as a woman, or nb. I also really like fashion, and don't understand why clothes have to be gendered (curse you, adhd that alienated me from social standards) (jk). So anyways, many people feel that expressing themselves gives them a sense of joy that is separate from their gender. Being able to change how you look and look cool in fun colours or fashion is enjoyable, and shouldn't be spit on.

Anyways, td;lr, the only thing that makes you trans is being trans, not dysphoria, and GNC trans ppl are absolutely valid. Also nb ppl are trans, and a lot of transmeds are misinformed rather than purposely hateful, though that doesn't make transmedicalism good.

[taiblogcomics]

Absolutely Thera-Pissed

Hey there, visas and green cards. It's our ninth blogaversary! Wow, we've been going for quite a long time. Long enough to completely change platforms at least once. Considering we just finished our whole backlog, I think we should try something new in honour of the amazing coincidence of these two events synching up. Before we start on another backlog of terrible comics (trust me, I have something in mind), let's do something we've never done before on this blog. We've only ever really covered comics issue by issue. How would you feel, dear readers, if we instead did an entire storyline all at once?

And oh boy, do I have just the storyline in mind. Here's the cover:

Oh yeah. We're doing this. This story has kind of hung over this blog, mostly due to its connections to Red Hood and the Outlaws. It also prominitely features Harley Quinn, who also appeared in Suicide Squad (which ended before this story took place). And personally, I am a fan of Harley, Booster, and the Titans. And oh boy, does this comic shit all over them, in some of the most truly appalling ways possible. This is Heroes in Crisis. All nine issues. Let's jump right in~

I won’t be going over the covers of the individual issues, or even this one so much, but I do like that quote at the top. It is actually some good superhero artwork! It is an extremely awful story, but the artwork is fine~

So the first issue starts like this: Booster Gold's in one of those tiny middle-American diners. The host's loving it, since she says superheroes never show up and eat here. And oh look, here comes another one! Booster replies that that's no hero, as Harley Quinn walks in. Clearly he hasn't been reading her solo series. Harley orders some pie, and she and Booster eat in terse silence. Until suddenly Harley grabs a knife, and the two begin a real knock-down, drag-out fight. And lemme tell ya something, Harley keeps up with a guy who can fly and project forcefields pretty well. Eventually the pair are exhausted, and Booster says he's gotta bring Harley in, after what he saw her do. Harley protests, because she didn't kill all those people. She saw Booster do it.

All this is intercut with two different scenes. One is sort of a confession-cam style thing, a bunch of heroes (including Harley, Blue Jay, Booster, and Hotspot) all admitting they're here for therapy. And the second is Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman talking with each other as they land in a particular site. This place is called Sanctuary. It is currently full of dead heroes. Among the deceased here are Hotspot, Lagoon Boy, Wally West, and Roy Harper. And this is my first major complaint. Do you know what all these characters have in common? Hey, DC: Stop using the Titans as your cannon fodder. Stop treating them as a joke. Every iteration of the team deserves more respect than this.

So Harley and Booster are going to be our POV characters for this story. I like both of these characters a lot, so this is probably going to be pretty painful seeing them written horribly. Harley goes off to the Penguin for protection, and we actually get to see her in her old costume. It is a breath of fresh air, honestly. Booster, meanwhile, mostly just tries to rationalise his actions with Skeets, his robot buddy. Booster suffered kind of a psychotic break back in the Batman storyline "The Gift", which is why he was in Sanctuary to begin with. This story is basically a follow-up to that one, and has the same sort of tone.

Harley confronts the trinity in Gotham, revealing she set the whole thing up with Penguin just so she could get close to them on her terms. She uses the Lasso of Truth to confess she saw Booster Gold do it, then uses the Kryptonite in Batman's belt to skip town. The next time we see her, she's at the docks, giving a eulogy to Poison Ivy, another victim of Sanctuary. Booster Gold, meanwhile, has rationalised that Batman would solve the crime himself rather than turn himself in, and goes to Barry Allen to check in. Of course, the trinity are the only ones who know about the accident yet, so when Booster tells Barry that Wally's dead, he gets super pissed. Just like the readers are!

Issue 3 is a flashback issue, showing Booster's first day at Sanctuary. Sanctuary works like this: everyone gets their own private quarters, and if they want to visit the common areas, they wear a mask and cloak to preserve anonymity. Here's the first really big problem with Sanctuary: while therapy for superheroes is a good (possibly necessary) concept, Sanctuary is only one kind of therapy. It essentially assumes everyone responds the same to the same sort of therapy. The kind here is that Sanctuary gives you a private room that simulates your traumas (with a holodeck) and has you physically confront them. Lagoon Boy, for example, is shown to be facing the laser that killed him over and over again. Wally sets up superhero battles that still have his kids with him. And while this sort of therapy might help some people, it's definitely not universal.

Booster starts his first session, which ends up just being a hologram of himself, talking to him. Before he can get much further, though, alarms go off and everyone is urged to emergency evacuate. Lagoon Boy is killed--in a deliberate callback to his previous death, no less--and we see a few other victims, including Red Devil, Commander Steel, and Gunfire. Wally clutches Roy's body as he dies in his arms, and Harley smacks Wally in the face with her hammer. She greets Booster cheerfully, and he admits he's having a hell of a first day.

After a brief scene of Aqualad (Garth, in this case) drinking in a bar--and who can blame him for wanting to drink after experiencing this story?--Batman and Barry meet, thus showing they're still unsure who did it. Booster is being interrogated under the Lasso of Truth, and he relays the previous issue to us. In his mind, Harley did it. Harley, meanwhile, has tracked down Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) and surprisingly... they hug. Babs promises to help stick by Harley and prove her innocence. After all, Babs has been through trauma, too. The comic reminds us of this with another confession-cam video, showing Babs display the scars she received from “The Killing Joke".

So, about these confession cams... They've been interspersed between scenes, showing everyone from Batman down to guys like Gunfire or the Protector relaying their problems by confession. Again, this sort of therapy isn't for everyone, but it's the only one Sanctuary's got. Superman tells Batman that Lois has been receiving these videos anonymously. Batman responds that there are no videos. Sanctuary does not keep records, to preserve patient confidentiality. Supes replies that there are videos, he's seen them, and now the media has them. The issue ends with a breaking story about "What is the secret superhero Sanctuary?" exposé airing on television...

Speaking of breaking, Blue Beetle (Ted Kord, who I'm as surprised as anybody to find out is alive again post-Rebirth) breaks Booster out of the Hall of Justice where he's being held. The pair watch the breaking news report on television while they try to come up with a plan. Booster's idea is to confess to Barry again, figuring they won't expect the stupidest possible move, making it actually the smartest possible move. Booster has not really recovered from his insanity, I see. He and Beetle do exactly that, surprising Barry at work, which is apparently all the advantage they need. This is because Barry, as a forensic scientist, has access to the data on the autopsies.

While Superman makes a public statement to the press regarding Sanctuary, Batman passes Skeets into Batgirl's care, and she immediately violates that trust by in turn passing Skeets to Harley. It's implied Harley tortures the information regarding Booster's whereabouts out of Skeets, but it's okay because he's just a robot. Babs and Harley turn up at Booster's place as he's analysing the data he obtained from Barry. Here's where it all starts to fall into place: the data on Wally West says his body is five days older than the rest of them.

Issue 6 is kind of a triple piece, but one that can be summed up fairly quickly. It focuses on three specific characters who were all at Sanctuary. The parts regarding Gnaark the caveman (another Titans alumnus) are ultimately pointless, since the issue ends with his death. The parts with Harley focus on Joker's abuse of her and Posion Ivy's care towards her. This also ends badly. Wally's parts focus on the DC Rebirth story where he essentially willed himself back into the universe. And while that story is really good and it was a joy to see Wally again, it ultimately ended with the knowledge that Wally's family did not reappear with him. His kids are gone, his wife is with someone else and does not remember him, and until he forced his way back into everyone's memories, no one else recalled him either. This would traumatise anybody. But it may have really traumatised Wally.

The next issue starts really well, honestly. Booster and Harley are fighting it out--again--while Babs and Beetle just watch. Like, they aren't even stressed, they're both familiar with their respective charges, and this is really no surprise. In any other comic, this would be a great scene. Shame that it's in this one, and it's not nearly enough to save even a lick of it. Eventually Babs works out that Booster's forcefields are only currently working because of some jury-rigged tech that's powered by Blue Beetle's consciousness. So she knocks him out with one hit. Harley prepares a killing blow, but ultimately cannot go through with it, proving she's a good person. She and Booster just collapse on the floor, and bond over the fact that they both kind of suck as superheroes (from their own perspectives, at least).

With Booster, Beetle, Babs, and Harley (Barley?) all on the same side now, the group decide to get to the bottom of everything together. Meanwhile, the rose Harley dropped off the docks is picked up by Wally. See, while the body they found of Wally is five days older than the rest, this means he time-traveled and is still at present alive. Wally channels his Speed Force into the rose, causing it to grow rapidly--and Poison Ivy blooms from it, restored to life. I don't get it either, but if it means Ivy didn't die in this stupid story, I'll take it. Wally then apologises, since Ivy just returned to life and now she has to see death so soon. Those five days are up, and a second Wally appears, ready to literally kill himself.

So here's what really fucking happened.

Wally had been at Sanctuary three weeks already. He's frustrated because the therapy's not helping as fast as he thought it would. He does a jump into the Speed Force and basically exists everywhere at once. Spread across the time stream, he witnesses everybody's confession cams all at once. He sees "the trauma of a thousand heroes in crisis" (hey, we have a title, ladies and gentlemen). And... it's too much. Realising everybody's personal pain breaks him. He unleashes the burst of pent-up energy he'd stored to do the time jaunt thing and kills everyone at Sanctuary.

Lagoon Boy. Protector. Hotspot. Red Devil. Arsenal. Gnaark. Solstice. Tattooed Man. Gunfire. Blue Jay. Commander Steel. Nemesis. I want you to remember these names. These were all pre-existing characters. Half of them were members of the Titans at one point or another. Wally West, the Flash, killed them in a stupid, stupid storyline that not only assassinates his character, but also literally assassinates all these other characters.

Wally uses his super speed to set up the bodies, rig the crime scenes so it looks like Harley or Booster could be responsible for their deaths. He then travels forward in time to the present moment, where he has just confessed all this to Poison Ivy. He kills that version of himself and travels back in time with it to fake his own death. He then uses the VR tech of Sanctuary to trick Booster and Harley into believing they saw the other commit the deeds. Neither of them even knew they'd never left their respective therapy simulations. This leaves Wally with a five day window to figure out something good he can do to make up for killing everyone.

So the final issue wraps it up like this: Booster time-travels the group back to where Barry is about to kill his own paradox clone. Harley and Ivy reunite, which is nice. So here's the plan: this doesn't have to end with any more death. In the end, what Barry did was all an accident. So Booster travels into the future to make a clone of the paradox-Wally. This gives them a five-day-old body they can leave at the massacre, in order to close the timeloop. The present Wally turns himself in and is arrested, while the five-days-ago paradox Wally merges back into the Speed Force, still running to try and find his family.

And the "good" thing Wally did to make up for killing everyone? He was the one that leaked Sanctuary's existence to the media. In his mind, the idea that heroes are seen as constant paragons was too much pressure. By letting the public know that even superheroes need therapy, even superheroes suffer trauma just like everyone else, he he could let people know that heroes are just that: people. People like everyone else. And that it is okay for anyone to seek help if you need it. This seems like a nice sentiment, until you remember the reason Wally killed everyone is because he was impatient about how his therapy was going.  What an awful story.

-----

Like, legitimately, this story is just awful. The basic premise--that heroes could probably do with therapy--is not a bad one. The execution is just really completely mismanaged, though. Start with the beginning. Why are Harley Quinn and Booster Gold chosen as the focus characters? Because they're the ones you could believe would orchestrate a mass murder, right? Except no. You would never believe that. Booster is not that much of a screw-up, and Harley is not that much of a villain. Neither of them have been those things for many years. The readers know that, but it feels like the writer didn't.

And that's the worst part of it all. The superficiality of the story. In the end, why was this story written? To explore the concept of therapy for superheroes? Well, then, it went about it in the worst way possible. Not everyone experiences trauma in the same way. And therefore, not everyone responds to therapy in the same way. The way therapy is depicted in this story is just wrong. Frankly, Sanctuary looks like one of the worst places to get treatment, right alongside Arkham Asylum. Do you think anybody's really going to take away from this story "It's okay to talk about your traumas if you need to"? In or out of universe?

I didn't really talk about the confession cams, but they seemed highly unnecessary. They were always the same, a 3x3 of panels featuring a superhero talking about their traumas. Most of them didn't factor into the story, and at most they felt like a common scene transition. They tried to give them some weight by revealing that the contents of all these possibly got leaked? But then they just kinda dropped that subplot. Which was really kind of serious, because the traumas range from the Protector (a character created for drug PSAs) confessing that he has done drugs to Superman talking about the burden of keeping his identity secret. How much of these did the public actually get? And if it was none, what was even the point of it being a subplot~? Like, leak that Sanctuary existed, sure, but why did Lois Lane get sent all the videos that shouldn't have existed~?

What this story has done to Wally is awful. They have completely tarnished this likeable, amazing hero by having him kill twelve people (thirteen, if you include Poison Ivy), several of them colleagues and friends. All because he's trying to fake his way through therapy when it isn't helping him as fast as he wants. Know what would have been a good story? How about he learns to cope with his trauma? How about he actually gets his family back? It's unrealistic as hell, but it's a fictional story. It's escapism. It's okay to have a happy ending. I ''want'' my stories to end in happy endings, because it's so hard to get them in real life. I want something better than this.

DC Rebirth was a breath of fresh air. Wally's return to the DC universe felt like the clouds were lifitng. The stories following Rebirth felt like a return to form after the darkening of the New 52. It felt like the stories were getting good again, like the comics were getting fun and hopeful again. It couldn't last, though, could it? This story is only three years after the Rebirth initiative. Three years? That's all the hope we get in the universe? I sincerely hope this story ends up an abberation, and not a return to form of the darker, more dour universe we put up with in the New 52. Especially given current events, you can understand why a brighter, optimistic fictional world is appealing. I sincerely hope that when comics resume publication after the pandemic, a more positive outlook continues, and stories like this are left in the garbage where they belong.

This book is fucking awful, and I am done with it. Next week, we'll start reviewing an all-new series for the Taiblog. Let's just say I'm not done ranting about injustices against the Teen Titans~

[kitaychan]

White Flame

Chapter 2

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, Psychological Horror

General Summary:  Royal/ Magical AU.  As their two Kingdoms get closer to a war, the past keeps on hovering around their choices. Prince Ivan has a hard time controlling his magical powers while being tormented by a mysterious ghost and Prince Alfred embarcs in seeking a revenge that might cost more than it’s worth it.

Preview: He stared at the animal and frowned. “I don't want to be a king, I want to be that bird.”

Natalya kept laughing until his annoyed expression told her that he was talking seriously.

She took off the ribbon that kept her hair out of her face and folded it. “You can’t, people can’t be turned into animals but you can be a King and live very happy.”

Maybe he was just a boy.

Ivan wasn’t sure of what had happened.

The luncheon had been peaceful, his mother was sitting there, preferring hot chocolate over the delicious pork that Ivan requested, she was a bit paler than normal but it wasn’t strange, these days the palace was colder, perhaps winter would come earlier.

Katya, his sister was nibbling the dessert when his father arrived, scowling as usual and refusing to eat, offering his drink to the queen. He complained about the newly acquired mage saying he was “fooling around instead of doing his work”. Ivan felt bad for the poor man, he remembered his father brought him along in the last trip, from a foreign land in the east.

Ivan had tried to caught the oriental man around the palace, curiosity was killing him, he wanted to ask about the customs, the stories about dragons that he heard from the knights, but his father wouldn’t allow him to, saying that the man was unwilling to share the secrets of their magic. Ivan didn’t blame him, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t share his magic with his father either.

The king reminded the boy about their practice the next day, as if he was reading Ivan’s thoughts, he underlined the importance of it as well as the obligatory nature of the task. Ivan wasn’t keen of their shared lectures, his father was always scolding him, calling him weak and lazy. It wasn’t his fault that the spells did not work, though, his unwillingness to utter them or cast them among defendless servants might have something to do with it.

The day had been so boring that he didn't remember much of it, just that he had to dinner alone while some servants walked around hurriedly.

When he lay in bed waiting for his mother to kiss him goodnight, he could distinguish the sound of a clock, marking each second, the sound was distant, echoing in the halls.

He pondered the idea of searching the clock but refrained from it, he didn't want a punishment for being out of bed.

Ivan, waited and waited until his eyelids closed and he drifted to sleep.

His mother didn't showed up that night.

In the morning as he was sleeping soundly in his bed, glad that his father had ceased taking him on those long and horrible trips and happy that his dreams didn’t turn into the constant nightmare with the bloodied wolf, he heard his sister sobbing.

She was by his side, waiting for him to wake up. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks stained with tears. Ivan didn't know what to do, she hugged him tightly, assuring that she was going to be there for him. For what? Ivan didn't know, he only nodded as his sister kept crying and mumbling nonsenses to him.

Two days later the weight of the situation was setting in his mind. His mother was not going to greet him in the mornings anymore, she wasn’t there to wake him from his nightmares and lull him into sleep again. Though, Katya was there as she said, she was clueless, she didn’t know why the gray wolf mounted in the trophy hall was covered. She didn’t understand why Ivan dreaded the weekly practices with their father.

Somehow, in a short span of time his father had managed to look even more menacing, whenever he casted his glance at him, Ivan felt as if he blamed him for his mother’s death.

Ivan had refused to prepare for the funeral. There were relatives he didn’t know around the palace giving him pitiful glances and some of them even dared to speak to him about his mother. How could they? they’ve never showed themselves when she was alive, why should he listen to them now?

When the third unknown relative approached him at the table, Ivan left behind his untouched meal and ran directly to his room. Kicking off his shoes and tossing the black coat they had made him wear.

After some minutes his father and Katya entered in his room. His sister proceeded to silently dress him back.

“You’ll go downstairs, greet everyone and stay until they go to sleep.” The glare his father gave him was enough for Ivan to understand he shouldn't talk back.

Katya’s voice was soft. “Father, perhaps we should let him rest. Vaneshka hasn’t slept very well as of lately.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, Yekaterina. Go and greet the guests.” The harshness of his voice made the siblings flinch.

While Ivan observed the way she was hurriedly tying his shoes, the thought that had been haunting him since he got the news from his mother’s death assaulted him once again.

Even when his sister promised to be there for him, which was precisely what she was doing. She had only a bit of influence in the palace.  

Katya could not protect him from their father.

----

The day was sunny, the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind was all Natalya could hear, she was glancing out of the window, silent, she should be sleeping but she couldn’t, she was eager to go out of the carriage and spin around with  that nice black dress her mother had prepared.

Today she was finally going to visit his cousin, her mother was always talking about him, telling her how to behave in front of him. Each year the king gifted her a portrait alongside some silk ribbons, she made sure to wear one each day.

She hadn't seen him since he was five years old or so they said, she didn’t remember very well, but it was not her fault to be younger than him, it was a miracle she knew whom they were talking about. But it didn’t matter, she knew that he was just as charming as they had told her. After all his father always said that she deserved nothing less than a prince. Natalya imagined he had to be just like that, a prince, just like the tales her mother read to her at night.

When the time finally came, Natalya glued herself to the carriage's window, to get a glimpse of him, they would be arriving soon. She admired the city, the ornamental gate, the beautiful gardens, the entrance with  the servants all dressed in black.

Stepping out of the carriage, she observed in awe at the beautiful and obviously bigger palace his cousin lived in.

The doors were opened and she finally saw him.

He was dressed in a simple way, at least in comparison to her, who had been hours trying to look as well as possible. She greeted him and he responded shyly, hiding behind his sister.

To Natalia, it was confusing, she was expecting him to take her hand or to bring flowers like in the fairytales but she supposed it was going to happen later, after all they were just children, he was  nine years old.

After the boring ceremony held for the deceased queen, her mother sent her to speak with the prince, to cheer him up.

Natalya complied, chatting and starting a silly game of hide and seek in the gardens. She let him win, that’s what her mother instructed her to do. It would make him happy but he looked bored and was more interested in the surroundings than in the game itself. Noticing this, Natalya tried to start a conversation.

“Do you like that tree?” she asked, leaning forward and trying to peek over his shoulder.

He pushed her back and sighed. “ No, I am looking at the bird in it.” Then he pointed at a branch in the tree.

There was in fact a gray bird with white and black rings around the neck and a fluffy white belly.   Natalia thought it was a pretty simple bird, this wasn’t the kind of conversation her mother had said he’d be interested in, instead he was just as any other boy she had talked with. Perhaps, her mother was wrong, this boy wasn’t a prince just yet, maybe he was just a boy.

Natalya decided to act naturally and not how she had practiced, stating her opinion. “I don’t know much about animals, I think they are noisy, especially birds.  Do you like birds?”

There was a small silence and Natalya shifted uncomfortably, had she done something wrong?

Her cousin smiled. “Not really,” -he shrugged- “I just think that one is cute.”

Natalya smiled back and lifted an eyebrow.  “Why? Is it because it’s gray, like the wolf?”

He tensed considerably. “No...I don’t know, it’s big and fluffy, it looks like it has a beard.”

Natalia looked up at the bird again and giggled. “it does look like it has a beard.”

He sat in the grass and scoffed. “If it had a hat it would look like your father.”

Natalya frowned, was that an insult?

“I don’t think so, it would resemblance the priest.” She said sitting beside him.

“The priest?”

She nodded. “Yes, didn't you see him?”

“He doesn't look like that.” he looked confused.

“He does, I talked with him. I asked him when I could marry” she whined putting her hands on her lap, playing with the fabric of the dress.

He just turned to look at the bird again.

She shook his shoulder “Aren’t you going to ask me when I can marry?”  

He looked at her for a moment, shaking his head. "No. My father is always saying that my sister has to marry, that he’ll pick with whom, why would you want to know when you’ll marry? If father is ordering Katya to think about that it can’t be good. You shouldn’t be excited."

She shook her head. “That’s not true. My parents say that marriage is a good thing, that it brings joy and wealth. You’ll have to marry one day too.”

He seemed surprised as if the idea hadn’t cross his mind before. He crossed his arms and denied childishly. “I don't want to.”

Natalya laughed at his response. “Why not? I could be a nice queen and when you are the king you can get more of those birds. We will be very happy.”

He stared at the animal and frowned. “I don't want to be a king, I want to be that bird.”

Natalya kept laughing until his annoyed expression told her that he was talking seriously.

She took off the ribbon that kept her hair out of her face and folded it. “You can’t, people can’t be turned into animals but you can be a King and live very happy.”

----

Later that night, Natalya was sneaking to his room, she was going to give him a gift to show him her affection. She tiptoed through the corridor and opened his door slowly. The floor creaked under her tiny feet and he woke up, seeming startled to see her there. She put a finger on her lips motioning him to keep quiet.

She gave him a box and a kiss on the cheek and left the room closing the door behind her. She was giggling, waiting for him to open it and to go out and thank her.

What happened next was a blur to Natalya.

A shrieking scream resounded on the halls, some doors were opened, and she heard hasty steeps getting near.

She was pushed back and the door of his room opened. She saw him, sobbing with the bird on his hands, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. Then, he started shouting at her, she didn’t understand why, all she had done was to get that stupid bird for him and there he was speaking nonsense to her.

She started crying, the king entered the room and he stopped his noisy cries. The hateful glace the prince gave her when he stood up made her shriek, what had she done wrong?  She kept sobbing in the hall, while the prince pointed at her and accused her with the king. The icy glare of the latter stayed in her memory for years after the incident, alongside the sound of the door closing in front of her.

[rivers-children]

Chapter 2

    It wasn’t long before the large tree came into view, its branches seemingly cradling the moon, barren of leaves, a sign of the Leafbare to come. “Woah… this is it?” Springpaw had come to a skidding halt at the crest of the hill before the tree.

    “Indeed, this is Mother-Root. Impressive, isn’t she?” Redwind’s voice was soft, looking at the tree with respect. “Palepelt, do you want to be the one to explain?” “Ah, so you Are just trying to get out of doing your duties this late at night.” Palepelt purred softly, before stepping to the front.

    “Mother-Root, as I’m sure some of you have been told by our dear elders,” She started. “Is the place in our territory where the connection with our ancestors is the strongest. Elderbark and her apprentices will regularly visit to commune with them for advice and warnings.” Speckledpaw thought for a moment, trying to imagine her cousin making the trek to this tree so regularly. “Wow…”

    “It is also tradition for new warrior apprentices to take the trip to rest under Mother-Root and get a chance to see our ancestors for themselves. Don’t expect to get any prophecies though-” Springpaw almost visibly deflated, looking away quietly. “Those are only given to leaders and Medicine cats.”

    “Auntie Sprucestar also comes here?” Speckledpaw looked up, suddenly intrigued again.

    “Well, yes. Leaders traditionally come every few moons or so, as they aren’t as skilled in deciphering omens. Your aunt actually visits more regularly, looking for advice in war.” The mood of the group dropped a bit, the warriors looking away quietly.

    “War?” Springpaw looked up. “You mean with uh… with…” He struggled to remember the names.

    “With Cloudclan and Pineclan?” Rustpaw piped up, shuffling her paws.

    “...yes. The war started in the era of Goldenstar, with the death of a prophet of Pineclan, and accusations flew wildly from there. We’ve since mostly healed our relations with them but… everything is still tense with Cloudclan, and there were always suspicions that Cloudclan had always been looking for an excuse to try and drive the rest out of our territories.” Palepelt spoke quietly, moving over to quietly comfort Coppereye.

    “We… we shouldn’t dwell on that, we can focus on history later. For now let’s just get into Mother-Root, shall we?” Redwind cleared his throat, trying to reroute the conversation back to its start. He guided the apprentices down the hill, towards the gaping maw of roots, entangled in each other in an arch.

    Soon, all six cats were settled, mentors next to their apprentices, on the mossy flooring of the cavern of roots. Speckledpaw followed her mentor's actions, and laid her head down, closing her eyes.

    When she opened them again, she was in a soft field, the warm rays of the sunset warming her pelt. “Uh… H-Hello?” She called out, standing in the plush grass.

    “Speckledpaw…” A soft voice called from behind her. When she turned, she was faced with the visage of a large grey tom, looking at her with gentle eyes and a look of almost disbelief. “Oh it really is you.”

    “Who are you mister?” Speckledpaw wracked her brain for anyone she could remember who looked like him. “Are you someone I know?”

    The tom simply smiled. “I am Stormclaw. Your father.” He took a step forward, clearly wanting to embrace her. “My… dad? You’re my dad?” She looked confused for a minute, before rushing in to embrace him, emotions flooding her. “I finally get to meet you! Is mom here too?” The tom looked confused for a moment. “What? She’s not dead. Is she not with you?”

    Speckledpaw reared back for a second, eyes wide with confusion. “I… No? I thought she was dead… Auntie Riverback and Auntie Sprucestar always talked about her like she was. When they Did talk about her at least…”

    “I… I see. I wish I could help with that, but I’m glad you’re at least here. Would you… Would you like to see your sisters? They’ve missed you dearly.” “My sisters… Y-yeah, I would!”

    Speckledpaw spent the rest of her time meeting her recently deceased relatives, her emotions ranging from giddy joy with meeting her sisters for the first time she could remember, to sheer awe at meeting her grandmother. She was everything Woolpelt had said she was. Unfortunately, she would have to wake up eventually, and she said her teary goodbyes, curling up with her father one last time.

    When she awoke, the sun’s rays were just peeking over the horizon, and the others were getting up as well, the warriors quietly chatting between themselves. Rustpaw was quietly sitting at the entrance, her ears lowered slightly as she watched the sunrise. Speckledpaw padded over, sitting next to her. “Is… Is everything ok?”

“I got to see my parents again. It was… really nice but it just hurts. Not being able to see them still.” Rustpaw’s voice was quieter than usual, before she leaned into Speckledpaws side. “Did you see your mom?”

Speckledpaw hesitated. “N..No. I did get to meet my dad though. And my sisters too. They’re pretty happy right now but… mom wasn’t there. Dad said she wasn’t dead.”

The two apprentices sat in quiet silence until it was time to go. The trip back was quiet, and they returned back to camp before Sunhigh. Speckledpaw couldn’t gather up the energy to think about crossing the river, but something caught their eyes as they entered camp. A crowd had gathered in the middle of camp, everyone buzzing with concern, and Speckledpaw could just spot Elderbarks tail in the center of it. What was happening?

“BRIARPAW!”

[araitsume]

The Desire of Ages, pp. 419-425: Chapter (46) He Was Transfigured

This chapter is based on Matthew 17:1-8; Mark 9:2-8; Luke 9:28-36.

Evening is drawing on as Jesus calls to His side three of His disciples, Peter, James, and John, and leads them across the fields, and far up a rugged path, to a lonely mountainside. The Saviour and His disciples have spent the day in traveling and teaching, and the mountain climb adds to their weariness. Christ has lifted burdens from mind and body of many sufferers; He has sent the thrill of life through their enfeebled frames; but He also is compassed with humanity, and with His disciples He is wearied with the ascent.

The light of the setting sun still lingers on the mountain top, and gilds with its fading glory the path they are traveling. But soon the light dies out from hill as well as valley, the sun disappears behind the western horizon, and the solitary travelers are wrapped in the darkness of night. The gloom of their surroundings seems in harmony with their sorrowful lives, around which the clouds are gathering and thickening.

The disciples do not venture to ask Christ whither He is going, or for what purpose. He has often spent entire nights in the mountains in prayer. He whose hand formed mountain and valley is at home with nature, and enjoys its quietude. The disciples follow where Christ leads the way; yet they wonder why their Master should lead them up this toilsome ascent when they are weary, and when He too is in need of rest.

Presently Christ tells them that they are now to go no farther. Stepping a little aside from them, the Man of Sorrows pours out His supplications with strong crying and tears. He prays for strength to endure the test in behalf of humanity. He must Himself gain a fresh hold on Omnipotence, for only thus can He contemplate the future. And He pours out His heart longings for His disciples, that in the hour of the power of darkness their faith may not fail. The dew is heavy upon His bowed form, but He heeds it not. The shadows of night gather thickly about Him, but He regards not their gloom. So the hours pass slowly by. At first the disciples unite their prayers with His in sincere devotion; but after a time they are overcome with weariness, and, even while trying to retain their interest in the scene, they fall asleep. Jesus has told them of His sufferings; He has taken them with Him that they might unite with Him in prayer; even now He is praying for them. The Saviour has seen the gloom of His disciples, and has longed to lighten their grief by an assurance that their faith has not been in vain. Not all, even of the twelve, can receive the revelation He desires to give. Only the three who are to witness His anguish in Gethsemane have been chosen to be with Him on the mount. Now the burden of His prayer is that they may be given a manifestation of the glory He had with the Father before the world was, that His kingdom may be revealed to human eyes, and that His disciples may be strengthened to behold it. He pleads that they may witness a manifestation of His divinity that will comfort them in the hour of His supreme agony with the knowledge that He is of a surety the Son of God and that His shameful death is a part of the plan of redemption.

His prayer is heard. While He is bowed in lowliness upon the stony ground, suddenly the heavens open, the golden gates of the city of God are thrown wide, and holy radiance descends upon the mount, enshrouding the Saviour's form. Divinity from within flashes through humanity, and meets the glory coming from above. Arising from His prostrate position, Christ stands in godlike majesty. The soul agony is gone. His countenance now shines “as the sun,” and His garments are “white as the light.”

The disciples, awaking, behold the flood of glory that illuminates the mount. In fear and amazement they gaze upon the radiant form of their Master. As they become able to endure the wondrous light, they see that Jesus is not alone. Beside Him are two heavenly beings, in close converse with Him. They are Moses, who upon Sinai had talked with God; and Elijah, to whom the high privilege was given—granted to but one other of the sons of Adam—never to come under the power of death.

Upon Mount Pisgah fifteen centuries before, Moses had stood gazing upon the Land of Promise. But because of his sin at Meribah, it was not for him to enter there. Not for him was the joy of leading the host of Israel into the inheritance of their fathers. His agonized entreaty, “I pray Thee, let me go over, and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon” (Deuteronomy 3:25), was refused. The hope that for forty years had lighted up the darkness of the desert wanderings must be denied. A wilderness grave was the goal of those years of toil and heart-burdening care. But He who is “able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think” (Ephesians 3:20), had in this measure answered His servant's prayer. Moses passed under the dominion of death, but he was not to remain in the tomb. Christ Himself called him forth to life. Satan the tempter had claimed the body of Moses because of his sin; but Christ the Saviour brought him forth from the grave. Jude 9.

Moses upon the mount of transfiguration was a witness to Christ's victory over sin and death. He represented those who shall come forth from the grave at the resurrection of the just. Elijah, who had been translated to heaven without seeing death, represented those who will be living upon the earth at Christ's second coming, and who will be “changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump;” when “this mortal must put on immortality,” and “this corruptible must put on incorruption.” 1 Corinthians 15:51-53. Jesus was clothed with the light of heaven, as He will appear when He shall come “the second time without sin unto salvation.” For He will come “in the glory of His Father with the holy angels.” Hebrews 9:28; Mark 8:38. The Saviour's promise to the disciples was now fulfilled. Upon the mount the future kingdom of glory was represented in miniature,—Christ the King, Moses a representative of the risen saints, and Elijah of the translated ones.

The disciples do not yet comprehend the scene; but they rejoice that the patient Teacher, the meek and lowly One, who has wandered to and fro a helpless stranger, is honored by the favored ones of heaven. They believe that Elijah has come to announce the Messiah's reign, and that the kingdom of Christ is about to be set up on the earth. The memory of their fear and disappointment they would banish forever. Here, where the glory of God is revealed, they long to tarry. Peter exclaims, “Master, it is good for us to be here: and let us make three tabernacles; one for Thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.” The disciples are confident that Moses and Elijah have been sent to protect their Master, and to establish His authority as king.

But before the crown must come the cross. Not the inauguration of Christ as king, but the decease to be accomplished at Jerusalem, is the subject of their conference with Jesus. Bearing the weakness of humanity, and burdened with its sorrow and sin, Jesus walked alone in the midst of men. As the darkness of the coming trial pressed upon Him, He was in loneliness of spirit, in a world that knew Him not. Even His loved disciples, absorbed in their own doubt and sorrow and ambitious hopes, had not comprehended the mystery of His mission. He had dwelt amid the love and fellowship of heaven; but in the world that He had created, He was in solitude. Now heaven had sent its messengers to Jesus; not angels, but men who had endured suffering and sorrow, and who could sympathize with the Saviour in the trial of His earthly life. Moses and Elijah had been colaborers with Christ. They had shared His longing for the salvation of men. Moses had pleaded for Israel: “Yet now, if Thou wilt forgive their sin—; and if not, blot me, I pray Thee, out of Thy book which Thou hast written.” Exodus 32:32. Elijah had known loneliness of spirit, as for three years and a half of famine he had borne the burden of the nation's hatred and its woe. Alone he had stood for God upon Mount Carmel. Alone he had fled to the desert in anguish and despair. These men, chosen above every angel around the throne, had come to commune with Jesus concerning the scenes of His suffering, and to comfort Him with the assurance of the sympathy of heaven. The hope of the world, the salvation of every human being, was the burden of their interview.

Through being overcome with sleep, the disciples heard little of what passed between Christ and the heavenly messengers. Failing to watch and pray, they had not received that which God desired to give them,—a knowledge of the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow. They lost the blessing that might have been theirs through sharing His self-sacrifice. Slow of heart to believe were these disciples, little appreciative of the treasure with which Heaven sought to enrich them.

Yet they received great light. They were assured that all heaven knew of the sin of the Jewish nation in rejecting Christ. They were given a clearer insight into the work of the Redeemer. They saw with their eyes and heard with their ears things that were beyond the comprehension of man. They were “eyewitnesses of His majesty” (2 Peter 1:16), and they realized that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, to whom patriarchs and prophets had witnessed, and that He was recognized as such by the heavenly universe.

While they were still gazing on the scene upon the mount, “a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him.” As they beheld the cloud of glory, brighter than that which went before the tribes of Israel in the wilderness; as they heard the voice of God speak in awful majesty that caused the mountain to tremble, the disciples fell smitten to the earth. They remained prostrate, their faces hidden, till Jesus came near, and touched them, dispelling their fears with His well-known voice, “Arise, and be not afraid.” Venturing to lift up their eyes, they saw that the heavenly glory had passed away, the forms of Moses and Elijah had disappeared. They were upon the mount, alone with Jesus.

[allie-and-her-fandoms]

Inseparable (Part One)

Author's Notes: Hey guys! After almost a year and a half, I'm back to writing fics, and this time, it's an NNT fic about the amazing ship of Gilgaret, as these two are absolutely adorable and I love them to bits! First off, big shout outs to @ship-ambrosia and @but-iamadisaster-blog for beta reading the first half (it was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got too big, sorry about that). You girls rock! Anyway, enjoy (or endure)!

Resume: Being born as the son of the Great Holy Knight is no easy task for Gilthunder. However, whenever things get too tough and his role models are not there, a certain lilac-haired princess is there for him, through good and bad. And as his promise to protect her is bound to be broken several times, can Gilthunder protect Margaret from harm, even if it means harming himself?

Rating: T+ (there would be blood, but nothing WAY too graphic)

Characters: Gilthunder, Margaret Liones, Veronica Liones, Elizabeth Liones, Vivian, Zaratras (mentioned), Dreyfus (mentioned), Hendrickson (mentioned), Meliodas (mentioned)

Being the son of the Great Holy Knight was not easy for Gilthunder, as he never thought he was strong enough. Always weaker than his role models, which were his father and his hero, Meliodas. Yet somehow, every time it was time for him to play with the princesses of Liones, his eyes would look for one person. He would recognize that wavy lilac hair, those kind mahogany eyes and that soothing voice everywhere; and they all belonged to one person, none other than the First Princess of the Kingdom, Margaret Liones.

"Gil?"

There she was, with that cute smile on her face, and with the wind going through her lilac hair. The person who would keep him motivated, who would always manage to put a smile on his face, who would always comfort him and assure him that one day, he would be able to walk on his heroes’ footsteps.

“Princess Margaret…” Gil murmured, while bowing in front of her.

“You don’t need to be this formal in front of me, Gil. Remember, we are best friends, aren’t we?” Margaret giggled while shooting one of her soft smiles at her little knight.

“Uh, yeah, right. My apologies.” Dang it, why did he always do that?

“You did it again.” said the First Princess of Liones, her gaze trying to connect with his own.

“Sorry, Margaret.” Gilthunder apologized, as he scratched the back of his neck. An uncouth gesture in his opinion, but it was Margaret. Sometimes, he simply couldn’t help himself. “What game are we going to play today?”

Margaret’s face beamed with joy, as she saw him throw away his formal behavior. That day was going to be a marvelous one!

“How about we play “The Princess and the Knight”? I am going to play the role of the princess who is locked away in a tower, and you are the knight trying to save her? How does it sound?” she asked, eyes full of curiosity.

“I’d say it’s a good idea, but who is the one the knight should save the princess fro-” the question almost left Gil’s lips, when suddenly, his eyes found someone – or rather, someones - wearing an emerald cloak with teal and golden spikes glued to it.

“Rawr! I am the Tyrant Dragon King, and I have come after the princess!” a familiar voice exclaimed. Another roar followed by a quiet chuckle, made their way through the silence, as to no one’s surprise, Veronica and Elizabeth tried to play the role of one of the most malicious beings in Britannia. Then, Veronica grabbed her older sister’s waist and dragged her towards her.

“Oh, no! Please, have mercy, oh mighty dragon!” Margaret pleaded. “If only there were someone able to save me!”

Catching up to the princesses’ game, Gil unsheathed his wooden sword, pointing it towards the dragon’s head. “Leave the princess alone!” he exclaimed in a solemn voice.

“Do you think that you, a puny Holy Knight, are going to be able to defeat ME?! Don’t make me laugh and run while you still can!” Veronica exclaimed in a mocking voice.

“I refuse to go away, unless you let go of the Princess!”

“Alright. Then make me!” Veronica screamed.

“Make me, make me!” Elizabeth’s voice echoed throughout the garden.

“Alright then! Let’s get this battle started! I shall not rest until I defeat you!” Gil’s voice was full of determination.

After he poked the “dragon” with his wooden sword and was always able to protect himself from its attacks, he finally pointed the tip of his sword between its eyes, and the little princesses had to give up.

“You have defeated me. You can have the princess back.” Veronica sighed in defeat.

As she uttered those words, Margaret rushed from her sisters’ side and stopped when she got next to Gil.

“My brave Knight! How can I repay this brave heart of yours, for risking your own life to save my own from this malicious creature’s claws?”

“Big Sis Margaret, that’s an awful thing to say!” said Elizabeth, a pout forming on her face.

“Ellie, shh!” Veronica shushed her younger sister.

As he registered Margaret’s words, Gil started to become flustered. But after a few moments, he knew exactly what he should ask the Princess for, as he recalled his latest discussion with Meliodas, before his hero left on a job alongside the other Sins.

“If it’s not too much, Your Majesty, I would like to be appointed to you as a Holy Knight. There would be no greater honor for me.”

Margaret was taken aback by Gil’s words. She couldn’t find out if he was saying this to get into the character, but part of her was thinking that those words could mean so much more.

“What you ask from me is something that Holy Knights even greater than you, can only dream about. Your path shall be rocky and full of, and my life would be in your hands, until the end of your days. If something ever happens to me, the outcome will not be nice for you. Even after knowing all of this, are you still willing to become the Knight who shall protect me from any harm?” Margaret monologued, as her gaze met Gilthunder’s, waiting for his response.

As he curled his right palm into a fist and held it above his heart, Gil’s words could’ve been clearly heard in the entire garden.

“I swear upon my honor as a Knight to protect you for the rest of my life!” he stated, with a determined look in his cerulean eyes.

“This is not about the game; this is simply the truth. I shall protect Margaret for the rest of my life, no matter what.” Gil thought to himself.

As if Margaret read his thoughts, a soft smile illuminated her face, and she answered the brave Knight.

“Very well then. I shall accept your offer.”

As soon as those words left her mouth, Gil rested on one knee, the wooden sword stuck into the ground, with Veronica and Elizabeth smiling knowingly at each other – they both knew about their sister’s crush on the salmon-haired boy -, and Margaret's cheeks turning from the white of marble into the red of roses.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I promise that I shall do my best to protect you.”

If only they had known that this promise would start to be kept so soon.

~~~

Days later, during the anniversary of the Kingdom of Liones, as Margaret was playing hide-and-seek with her sisters, she somehow managed to get away from the place they were playing, she arrived at the top of one of the castle’s towers. As she started to slowly open the massive door, she met a horrific sight.

The body of the Great Holy Knight resembled a fountain of blood and pierced flesh, and from the lack of spark in his eyes, Margaret could safely assume that Zaratras was dead. And as she tried to suppress her horrified screams, she saw two other men in front of the impaled crucified corpse. And in front of it stood none other than the younger half-brother of the deceased Holy Knight, Dreyfus, who was seemingly trying to comfort a shocked Hendrickson.

“It’s all over now, Hendy. My brother is dead, and there are no better candidates for this job, except for us.”

Still mortified by the scene she had just witnessed, Margaret felt power leaving her body, her legs trembling and her hands shaking over her mouth, as she desperately tried to muffle her horrified screams.

“I need to tell Gil about this. He needs to know this!” Margaret decided, and with the last remains of her strength she had, she ran downstairs, looking for Gilthunder as fear still resided into her heart. As she did so, she didn’t noticed Vivian, who had just been scolded for trying to use an advanced spell without Merlin’s supervision. The ginger decided to follow the princess, a malicious smile on her face.

~~~

“Gil! GIL!” Margaret’s shouts echoed throughout the gardens.

The little boy was still trying to recreate one of the moves Meliodas had thought him before he left on his latest job, alongside the rest of the Sins. However, when he heard Margaret’s desperate screams, he halted, and he was stunned to see her, but not accompanied by her cheerful smile, but by a pair of teary eyes.

“Hey, Margaret. Hold on, what happened to you? Did someone hurt you?” Gil felt helplessness when he saw Margaret’s face; no matter who had hurt her, he would make sure to make that person pay. No one made Margaret cry. No one.

“Gil, I- I don’t know how to tell this to you.” Margaret’s words managed to leave her mouth between the sobs, as she grabbed the sleeves of his shirt.

“Margaret, what happened?!” He felt as courage was gradually leaving him, as he heard her sobs get even louder.

“Your father… was killed… by your uncle… and Hendrickson!”

Gil felt as all the strength he had in his body has been seeped away, as his eyes started shedding bitter tears at the news of his father’s demise.

“It can’t be. My dad… can’t be killed. Not by them.” He heard himself say, not being able to accept the fact that the only parent he had left had also left this world. He somehow managed to recover after losing Renée, but his father as well…

“Gil, listen to me!” Margaret started shaking Gil’s now numb body. “I saw them do it. I heard them say that there were no better candidates for the job of the Great Holy Knight but themselves! Gil, I’m not lying! I’m sorry!” her words were playing on repeat in his head, as she leaned on his left shoulder and started sobbing even harder.

Unfortunately, neither of them noticed the menacing gaze of the apprentice of Merlin, who had heard everything. Now was her chance, her chance to rid her Gil from that pesky little princess. And as the steps of her plan started going through her mind again, Vivian almost burst into laughing, knowing that her “cute little knight” would soon become hers.

~~~

Six years later...

As Margaret’s eighteenth birthday was approaching, the castle was in the middle of the preparations. However, Margaret couldn’t find it in her heart to celebrate. Not when Gil was heavily injured because of her. Had something happened to him, she wouldn’t have forgiven herself. She caught a glimpse of that hideous winged lizard, her “supervisor”, the one that knew everything she did, every word she said.

She thought that somehow, she could escape from Vivian’s grasp, that she would finally be free from that curse, that she would be able to see Gil’s smile again. Unfortunately, that future kept going farther and farther away from her, turning into a flicker of hope that was doomed to die. As she remembered what happened a few hours ago, hot tears turned into a river, staining her cheeks, as she left loud sobs out.

If only she could go back in time and tell herself not to go by herself, not to disobey Vivian.

Author's Notes: This fanfic is dedicated to my Tumblr best friend, @ship-ambrosia, as this is her favorite NNT ship. Thanks for everything you did for me, Bree! Hope you enjoyed it!

[hamelin-born]

How dare you give me that T/R/A soulmates au. How dare you make me think about Thalassa appearing in Ardyn's room later that night and falling into his arms, breathlessly whispering "I found them" in disbelieving awe. How dare you make me think of Thalassa shyly asking Ardyn to come meet them. How dare you make me think of Thalassa telling her son, her Chosen that they will never come before him, reassuring him that she will always choose him first, last, and always. (1)

How dare you make me think of Ardyn listening to this promise and /knowing/ that Thalassa has waited /ages/ for her soulmates, waited longer than he’s been /alive/, and is willing to put them aside. For him. How dare you make me think of Ardyn resolving to like them before he even meets them just to make Thalassa happy. How dare you make me think of Ardyn stopping by Insomnia, of meeting Regis and Aulea, of /liking/ them, genuinely. (2) 

How dare you make me think of Ardyn running into Cor and/or Nyx during this visit and the Song that had been silent for so /long/ suddenly flaring to life -  a soft hum that slowly grows into a full symphony. How dare you make me think of Ardyn collapsing into Thalassa, crying, because he thought this was something he /lost/, something that was taken from him so long ago, something he never expected to get back. (3)    

How dare you make me think of Thalassa returning from one of her wanderings to learn Aulea is pregnant. How dare you make me think of Thalassa being happy over the baby, but also nervous b/c she /knows/ whats coming, b/c she can see the way Bahamuts presence lingers. How dare you make me think of Regis and Aulea noticing that Thalassa is nervous in a way that boarders in /angry/ but tries to hide it from them. How dare you make me think of Thalassa /demanding/ a water birth for Aulea. (4) 

How dare you make me think of Thalassa holding Noctis for the first time, of the three of them cooing over their small child. How dare you make me think of Ardyn holding bby!Noct and Thalassa looking at both of them, her children that Bahamut has hurt and plans to hurt, and quietly preparing to go to war. How very dare you. (5/5)         

@angelrider13 @phoenixwithahoardoflibraries

I AM THE ENABLER. THERE IS LITTLE I DO NOT DARE.

Especially when I get repaid with such lovely, lovely ask-stories such as this! Just - guh. Thalassa putting Ardyn before everything, before even the two people she’s been waiting so long for - he is her child, her Chosen, she chose to love him, and so she values him more then anything. And to Ardyn - Ardyn has always known that his Mother loved him. She broke him from his cell; she took him into her waters when he was alone and helpless and broken, she soothed his hurts and swore justice on her behalf. She rallied the Storm-Sender to their side; she has talked of swaying Titan, when he wakes from his long slumber.

Ardyn has always known that his Mother loved him. But this - this tangible evidence is enough to make his breath catch as he hugs her, enough for something thick and salty to crawl up his throat as he swallows hard. Leviathan would - for him? Truly?

Ardyn is. Slightly perturbed when he learns the identities of Thalassa’s soulmates, but observation - and subtle interrogation of his own - reveals that. They really are that good. They really are that desperately devoted to his Mother, despite the fact that they’ve only really just met. (Also, Ardyn, with his various governmental influences, might be the one to weave Thalassa an Official Human Identity™ - she’s probably listed as a native of Accordio, who has family in Galahd, and five brothers and sisters - one of whom is long deceased.) Ardyn - Ardyn gives them his blessing, and smiles a genuine smile as he wishes them well.

And yes, Ardyn finding his own Soulmates, his own song, which has long since grown silent - or not silent, but instead buried beneath the screams of countless deamons, long since lost to the wailing of the hoard. Only now. Only now, they’re right in front of him, and the way they’re looking at him as no one has ever looked at him before - surprise and welcome and joy. Joy, because - because of him, pure, simple welcome and gratitude such as no one mortal has bestowed on him in literal centuries - Ardyn manages to hold onto his composure by the skin of his teeth during that first meeting, only to collapse into Thalassa’s arms shortly afterwards. Soulmates. He has soulmates, who want him.

And just. Yes. Yes to all of it, to Aulea and the water birth, to the King of Light staring down at the infant form of the Chosen King cradled in his arms, to Thalassa and her tiny, yet so infinitely precious family. Just. Yes.

[frilly-interference-dazzling]

Andre Rieu!

Andre Rieu has his orchestra pick from the past, following antics of adventures that make me open my eyes wide, things I myself cannot handle, technically. I'm glad that stopped, think he has new concerns...

I'm glad he's honest, while he describes me racially. Being half Dutch Chinese-Indonesian, I am in awe of my body and very careful with it. Cameras cannot record the beauty of my hands. My face does not mirror reality, all these years, as anyone living during Generation X would know.

The brunette in his female trio I don't know if she's from America like me. Her hair is so light. I wonder what color it is. I wonder about brunettes in Cleveland, my hair is't all light and even if richer they look more dead here. I'm not racist to have my skin. My dad's and youngest aunt on his side's skin look thick and fair. My mom was fairer in some ways, her skin at first here. My hands at a certain age tanned and stayed, my forearms. When I am darker, I look more European, easy.

Are people thinking since I'm a fly catcher for attractive Baby Boomers that I should be deceased, a victim of murder?

Is he more capable with feelings and being stimulated, than I am?

He's a great conductor. He's a great violinist.

Is it that people want him to stimulate them that he has karma? His being up front and talking seems to make people think he has more fun, already, but he's being fatherly, to his musicians and maybe others... Is it the question? You might have to write to figure it out. I wonder, he seems special to like music but does not mean it's mutual, with me. I had a harder time being accepted studying in college than before, people being mean to me. Maybe, that is no reason to like me that, like me being monitored in private and my life ruined... It's hard for aspiring younger musicians to get more attention from good Baby Boomer musicians than non-musicians... much less any of them collaborate. His orchestra can be famous, and is he father or baby in disguise? Can you really be both in certain ways? He probably just talks to his family? Does he even talk to other people in music? He doesn't play in public, it seems, a conductor. All I had in common is my estrogen from being a Music Education major, and I loved it and was interested in the Doctorate. I was thinking of research and leadership. It makes me all flustery or "dizzy and faint." I don't really feel pride to be like him, it's already my love and joy. I love the orchestra, as anyone and train just to be in one on violin and hope to be a chamber star, as I'm good at dynamics and rhythm and wanted to play since age 6 1/2. I know we both did piano and singing in choir as a child/teenager, as well. Violin is both our main. I was so proud my whole life like MySpace to say I did Music Education. It was what I stood for. I wanted to do General Music Education, sad only kids.