#HOW DID THEY FIND OUR SACRED GROUNDS!?

[sena-shi]

SAGAU but with Scheming Creator!Reader Imposter AU

PT. 1

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You were going about your day as usual when you decided to read some SAGAU Imposter AU fanfictions on the internet. The plot does not provide you with as much satisfaction as you would want, and the readers' ability to exact revenge seems too — in your opinion, quite lacking.

On the other hand, you consistently maintain a nonchalant attitude about it. You are still going to go ahead and read it, then continue scrolling until you discover another fanfiction.

A retribution in the form of exile? You probably won't find this interesting. Taking your newfound powers and using it to wipe them off as payback? That is quite thrilling; however, wouldn't it be preferable to make them regret and bear the sins of killing their one and only creator for the rest of their lives?

The shame and remorse that would slowly consume everything within them until there was nothing left.

The vivid memory of them using the blessings that you bestowed upon them to dishonour your divine existence is particularly satisfying.

The effort that you put into everything to get them to the position that they are in right now.

The memories that they will carry with them for the rest of their lives of how they used everything you blessed them with to get rid of you. 

The SAGAU AU fanfictions you've been reading have somewhat convinced you that the characters in the game can actually hear your voice, so occasionally you open the app, play the game, and talk to each character as if you think they can hear you.

The characters with the most heartbreakingly repetitive lines would receive your highest praise and reassurance.

You would hear Zhongli speak his infamous voice line, “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory?”

And you would always reply with, “If the universe permits it, I would be delighted to share a drink with you and listen all about the wonderful times you and your loved ones have had together over the years.” In the warmest, and gentlest voice you could muster.

It's possible that you've gone insane because those are only fanfictions, yet you still find amusement on doing it.

And then, all of a sudden, it was as if the heavens had listened to your thoughts and made the decision to send you to the world of your creations, directly in front of the divine statue they had sculpted just for you.

Specifically designed with you in both heart and mind. The very statue that they would bow down to and pay respect to, something that they would look upon with reverence in their eyes.

You, the one who brought them into existence. You, the one who gave them life. You, their one and only creator.

Who would have the audacity to imitate the appearance of our Diving Creator and to step foot on the sacred ground!

Our Goddess was right; now that she has chosen to descend to our humble plane, a great number of people will attempt to copy her and steal her divination while her body is still adjusting to the conditions of our realm.

“Ah,” A sound like a gentle whisper was coming from your mouth. You did not move from where you were seated on the ground, keeping your attention fixed on the floor below you, which featured the most exquisite carvings you had ever seen. A smirk grew on your lips as you tried to stifle the chuckle; perhaps it was a maniacal laughter that was threatening to break forth. Fortunately for their sanity, they were spared the trauma of seeing it.

The fake, as one could have anticipated, displays an excessive amount of caution.

You were familiar with those lines. Where they would straight out deem you as fake. Imposter AU, huh? Then you guess that there’s no need to negotiate. After all, all of them will act like rabid dogs and probably decapitate you.

You slowly lifted your head, revealing long, wavy, glittering white hair that had fallen to the ground and was streaming down your back. The color of your hair was the most pristine that any human being could ever hope to witness. And your eyes. If one were to stare into them, they would be as dark as the abyss, and upon doing so, they would reveal the universe that is contained inside themselves. It appears to be a reflection of the night sky, where stars would shine brightly in honor of the one who nurtures the world, one whom they would always protect and one whom they would always look after.

As their attention was drawn to your face, those who were entrusted with the responsibility of guarding the sacred grounds began to tense up. The eye that had the most loving gaze was staring at them, as though the person they suspected of being an imposter is connected with them.

The imposter observed them in a manner like to that of a mother observing her children.

Despite their threats, they saw how you continued to lovingly glance at them with a hint of curiosity, perhaps wondering why they are so hostile to you.

Seeing them come to a complete halt makes you feel amused, but you keep up the act as if you are a compassionate and forgiving divine entity. However, at the bottom of your heart, you secretly wish for them to be ashamed by the way in which they regarded you as a fake.

Are you too vicious with your thoughts? Maybe.

Are you meant to ignore all of it simply because they are completely devoted to you?

Then why aren't they able to recognize that the imposter, who you believe was probably seated on the throne and bearing the title of God of the Gods, is the one who is being deceitful?

Is it because of your appearance?

You maintained your position on the ground, staying perfectly still as you watched them patiently while keeping your amusement well veiled in your eyes.

The only thing that can be seen by them is a stunning woman who is smiling warmly in answer to their presence. Simply the fact that the woman was watching them caused them to increase the pressure they applied to the grips of their spears and swords.

The wind that was not intended to enter the enclosed place unexpectedly caressed their bodies as if it were talking to them—

Do not hurt our Creator.

The grounds trembled, as if enthusiastic and pleased to be blessed with your presence, that their Creator was willing to dirty their feet to step on the land. The grounds were evidently happy that their Creator was willing to bless them with your presence.

It's not even an exaggeration to say that the entire Teyvat, the first child of the Creator, is likely experiencing an incredible amount of joy just from recognizing your divinity.

The big and broad doors swung open with a bang, and the glances that your beloved and wonderful acolytes gave you as they heard that someone was copying their dear God seared deep holes into your skull. In all honesty, you would prefer to stay and witness how they will act from that point on.

My, my… You thought. Have their IQs decreased dramatically in the span of a single night as a direct result of the arrival of the real fake?

The holy grounds are far too little for a game of "hide and seek," despite how much you love to have fun playing with them. You can't wait to discover how they will deal with someone they have identified as an imposter like yourself. You are patient, and you will embrace everything they will give you.

You would counteract any evil intended for you with acts of kindness. You, in turn, wish they wouldn't let you down as the shame destroys them from the inside out.

After all, it's hard to see a mother being the source of any kind of harm to her children.

If they wish to hurt you, then so be it.

You wonder.

Who will kill you first?

Them?

Or yourself?

You heard them running after you as you escaped the place, which you didn't find particularly difficult. Your lips formed an unconscious sneer as you ran, not too fast, and not too slow. You want them to catch up to you so that everyone may play together.

And perhaps, if they decide to give you the performance you want to witness, you would forgive as any other benevolent being would.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You suffer through the repercussions of Christmas morning, a new year begins, and Polly provides some interesting insight.

Warning: language, smoking, ethnic slur, yelling

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 12: Nobody Knows

So help me find my way, the way I came from. ��Cause I’m feeling lost and afraid, you better not be too far gone. Oh, have I been so wrong? Missed the song? Still I don’t know where I belong. No I don’t know. Because no one really knows me, at all.  — Nobody Knows, Autograft, WYNNE

You ran through the garden toward the temple, sure the sacred grounds would bring you some solace. “You betrayed me!” You shouted behind you, tears pouring down your face. 

Closing your eyes, you once again saw the shower of arrows fall from the sky, then a plague of sickness run through your lands. You saw death on the sands of your beaches, fires raging through the cities. You felt the whips and thrashes of pain across your body, the screams surrounding you until you fell to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

“Cassandra.” The beautiful voice of your love boomed from behind you. On your knees, you opened your eyes and you were back in your palace, the peaceful night continuing as it had before. You turned, peering up at the figure, the moonlight illuminating his features.

Weak, your voice came out in a whisper. “What did you do to me?” 

He smiled. “I blessed you with a gift of my own rarity.”

You shook your head, the tears still falling down your cheeks until you could taste the salt. “I’ve seen your arrows — how could you?”

“Cassandra—“

“Back!” You voice stronger now as your fear fueled your adrenaline. “I didn’t want this! How could you do this to me?” 

He reached out to you, “Our future is together—“

A sob left your lungs as the images wouldn’t stop from behind your eyes. “All I see is destruction. Demise. Death. How could I love someone who allows such things to happen?” 

Patience turned into anger. Your god stood to his full height as the rage froze his eyes. “If you don’t want our future together, then you’ll have no future at all. I curse you, Cassandra!”

——

“You in there love?” 

You gasped awake, eyes searching around you as you tried to determine where exactly you were. Slowly, your brain began to recognize your surroundings. 

Tommy’s room felt different than it had before. You looked down at the bed, evidence in the tussled sheets of where you’d finally fallen asleep — but the bed and room was otherwise empty. 

A soft tapping brought you back, the door opening slowly as Polly poked her head in. 

“They’ve just gotten back,” she said, taking in your obviously confused expression as you finally sat up on the bed fully. 

You looked to see the open bottle on the nightstand accompanied by two empty glasses and the cigarette case you’d given him. That’s when you began to recall the events of the night. 

“I need you,” Tommy had whispered with his forehead pressed against yours, your legs in his lap as he held you against him. 

For a moment your brain tried to determine how exactly he meant that — was it business, pleasure, or something more. The way his lips pushed against yours swept the thought away, and an involuntary “I’m yours” came out as a breathy reply. 

His grip tightened in response, soft touches turned needy as your fingers worked on the buttons of his vest, his on your dress. You were in just your slip, him in his trousers, when you fell to your back against the mattress, pulling his body with you. 

“Tommy!” A shout from the other side of the door accompanied by an urgent knock caused you both to gasp away from each other. “We got trouble!”

Tommy jumped off the bed as your head fell back against the pillow, a huff leaving your lungs. “This has to be a cosmic joke at this point, I swear—“ 

He hushed you as he grabbed his gun from the holster on the hook before cracking open the door. 

“It’s Russel. We’ve been fuckin’ had,” you could hear Arthur from the other side of the door, Tommy standing in the way of the crack to keep you hidden, though you were sure his disheveled state was evident. “Put ‘our cock away and get dressed.” 

Tommy shut the door, running his hand through his hair as he turned back toward you, already offering him his discarded shirt. “Fuck,” he swore, pulling you into him for another searing kiss before he finally pushed away and took the shirt. You smirked as you watched the material cover the red smear from your lipstick on his neck and collarbone, internally groaning that he had to leave now, just when things were finally getting somewhere. 

You shook your head, trying to get it out of your vagina and back into the realities that something bad must be happening. 

“I was worried this would happen,” Tommy muttered as he pulled his shoes on. “Fuckin’ coppers.”

Standing up, you reached for your dress that’d pooled on the floor next to your shoes. 

“What are you doing?”

Your brow creased, “Getting dressed, I should go home—” 

“No,” he cut you off, grabbing the dress from your hands and throwing it over the arm of the chair. “I’ll walk you home when I get back, but you’re safer here.” 

“You think I’m in danger?” This copper wouldn’t know your involvement in the situation, you couldn’t reason why tonight would be any less safe than any other night you’d walked home from the Garrison. 

“Don’t know, but I’ll think straighter knowin’ you’re here with Pol and the family than out there,” he answered, securing his shoulder holster and checking the round of his revolver. “Sleep,” he added as he threw on his jacket. “I’ll wake you up when I get back.” 

And with that, he left. You’d tried to stay awake as long as you could, your neediness for him slowly turning into worry the later it got. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep. 

Finally catching up to what Polly had said, you looked out the window to fully recognize the beginnings of sunlight. “They just got back?” 

“Aye, they’re in the kitchen. They’re alright, just beat a bit.” 

Your eyes widened at her words, prompting you to scramble out from the covers and hustle toward the door. 

“Oi, get dressed first!” she snapped, stopping you as she gestured toward your discarded dress still on the chair. “You go down there in this slip of a thing and you’ll give ‘em all heart attacks. There,” she added, helping you finish the buttons and manage your hair. 

She turned back toward the door and reached for the handle. You took a step, ready to follow her, but stopped when she paused before turning the knob. Your brow furrowed as she turned back toward you, her eyes doing a quick scan of your face. 

Suddenly worried that the situation was more dire than she’d let on, your heart began to race faster. “What are you—“

“You care for him, truly?” she asked you, this time her eyes not leaving yours as she waited for your reply.

You opened your mouth to answer, but closed it when your throat felt suddenly thick, and you swallowed instead. 

“I pity you then,” she said when you didn’t answer, then turned back toward the door. “Come on, now. Let’s go figure out what the bloody hell happened.” 

Polly lead down the stairs, your brain ping ponging between what state Tommy and his brothers might be in after being out the whole night, and why the older woman would pity you. 

Your over analysis came to a halt when you both finally breached the kitchen doorway, your eyes immediately finding Tommy. 

The first thing you noticed was the bright red splattering against his white collar and shirt. You followed the trail from his neck to his collarbone, bright red blood replacing where your dark red lipstick had been just a few hours before. Swallowing, you examined the rest of him — his knuckles were beaten, the sleeves of his shirt a mixture of smeared blood and dirt stains. But other than a deep cut on the hood of his cheek bone and the early signs of bruising along the jaw, he seemed to be okay. 

You let out a relieved breath as your eyes finally met with his, knowing he’d been watching you as you took him in. The white of his eyes were red, causing his usual brilliant blues to appear icier than ever. They were wild, feral even, like nothing you’d yet seen. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Ada!” Arthur shouted, causing you to finally break your stare and address the room fully. 

“Shut up, you’ll make it bleed again!” Ada shouted back, shoving a soaked cloth to the piece of Arthur’s lip that was split pretty badly. 

Next to them, John held another cloth to his nose to stop the bleeding, a similar sign of a bruise against the edge of his eye that’d birth a nasty shinner by the end of the day. 

“What the bloody hell happened?” Polly asked, throwing Tommy a wet cloth as he began to clean off his knuckles. 

“Russel was sellin’ information to the sloggers in Digbeth,” Tommy replied, throwing the cloth aside and reaching for the box of cigarettes in the middle of the table. 

“Fuckin’ double dealin’ on the both of us,” Arthur added, hissing when his lip began to bleed again. Ada smacked his arm and pushed the cloth against him. 

Tommy took a long drag, “They found out first, tried to use him to lure us into a trap. When our men went after him last night, they were waitin’.” 

“Any dead?” Polly asked, starting the kettle — acting as if she’d asked a perfectly normal question. 

“Not any of ours,” John answered proudly. “They held ‘em off ‘til we got there.” 

“Got a few ‘fore the rest went runnin’ with their cocks ‘tween their legs—“

“Shut up, Arthur!” Ada shouted when his lip began to bleed again. 

Polly handed you a cup and you realized you hadn’t moved, still standing just on the perimeter of the kitchen. Tommy was still watching you as the family talked. 

“And Russel?” Polly asked, pulling out one of the family books. 

“Dead,” John answered, “Charlie already took care of him and the others. Left some of the boys to man the territory ‘til we can clean ‘em out for good.” 

“We’ll need lodgings for our men in the area to establish a stronghold. And you’ll need to get to the other coppers on our payroll,” Polly added, scribbling in the book. 

The conversation faded into the background as you met Tommy’s eyes again. Expecting the wildness of when you first walked in, you were surprised to see his expression softer now. You’d always been so good at reading people, but Tommy had been an enigma to you since the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He stood, and the motion snapped your brain back to the company of the room. “Come on,” he said, walking toward you and reaching for your back, only to clasp his hand and pull it back to himself. His jaw clenched as he instead moved toward the door, “I’ll walk you home.” 

You looked around, everyone sort of half watching as you and Tommy left the room. You hadn’t said a word since you left Tommy’s bedroom, and truthfully you’d have no clue what to say anyway. 

Your mind was still trying to come up with something when you and your escort made it to your apartment, faster than you expected. Because it was still so early, the streets were as quiet and bare as they’d ever be. You were about to invite Tommy up to your apartment, not ready for your time together to end, when he finally spoke up, cigarette still between his teeth. 

“Best to stay away from the shop for a while. Polly or Ada can bring you the books to audit here.”

Your brow furrowed as you crossed your arms. “Why?”

He took a puff before pulling the stick from his lips, his eyes looking everywhere but to you. “Because I say.”

“Tommy—“

“Because I fuckin’ say, alright?” Tommy’s eyes snapped to yours, the harsh tone in his voice forcing your back to straighten. “I pay you for a job and you’re gonna fuckin’ do it the way I tell ya, eh?”

The verbal assault had you stunned, but you quickly recognized his words for what they truly were. He was speaking to you the same as he had in the wagon knowing it’d upset you, but this time there was no sign of an apology, or something vaguely adjacent. He was purposely pushing you away, and the thought turned your confusion into anger. 

Where had the vulnerable man who’d held you not more than five hours ago gone?

Throwing his cigarette butt to the ground, Tommy turned to leave. 

“What the hell happened to you last night?” you asked softly, mostly to yourself. 

He rounded back on you, his eyes wild once again as he raised his voice. “This is me, Y/N! This is who I fuckin’ am. Now you’ve seen me, and you’ll stay away when I tell ya to.”

Your mouth snapped shut as you held eye contact for a moment longer, despite the burn you felt behind your own. His turned from wild, to remorseful, to cold once more before he turned to leave again, this time not looking back. 

Now you’ve seen me, you repeated his words in your head as you watched him walk down the lane. He thought you disapproved, or you were disgusted, with the surlier side of the Shelby business. 

Was he wrong? 

It wasn’t like you were sensitive or anything to violence. With the way it was woven into most forms of entertainment in your day, it was hard to avoid — whether it was in video games, tv shows, movies, or even sports, you were no stranger to both real and fake injuries. But there was something different about seeing the Shelby brothers in person all cut, bruised, and bloody, knowing how they’d gotten that way that made you realize how different this was from anything you’d been exposed to before. 

And honestly, you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Of course part of you was scared, for both yourself and the people you’d come to care for here. Meanwhile, the other part of you tried to rationalize that this was the way of the world, or at least the Shelby’s world. You’d learned a long time ago that the world wasn’t black and white — that there were shades of grey that were circumstantial and layered in intent and values and point of views. 

While you didn’t know yet the full backstory of how the Shelbys came to be where they were now, the little information you did know painted an understanding that part of the circumstances with Tommy was grounded in some way with survival against poverty, racism, classism. There was a road the Shelbys had traveled to get where they were now, and you knew that part of it was paved in violence. 

You watched as Tommy finally disappeared from sight, swallowing thickly as you retreated with a shaky hand into the building. 

——

The next week went by quietly. You’d followed Tommy’s instructions of not coming by the shop, throwing yourself instead into the pub. You found yourself reverting back to the habits you’d made prior to meeting Tommy — though this time you had one more thing to obsessively overthink about during the quieter parts of the day. 

Luckily, the pub was busier than ever. Factory worker strikes were growing more rampant, and a common group seemed to find base in the Garrison booths right after the whistles blew. After a few days, you overheard one of the men call another “Freddie” and turned in time to see the greeting and identity of Ada’s mystery man and Tommy’s former best friend. 

You didn’t let yourself linger, not yet sure what information Ada had told him about you, so you continued on with your business as usual. But you still allowed yourself a few stolen glances and discrete eavesdropping out of pure curiosity. 

Aside from that, the holidays also played a role in the Garrison’s popularity as you geared up for New Years Eve, a night Harry anticipated would be three-times busier than it had the year previously. 

The work was good though — not only did it keep your mind busy, but it kept your body tired, which made sleep come easier. That, and the fact that your dreams seemed to stop — something you didn’t necessarily notice right away. 

And yet, even with all your work and distractions, you still found yourself every night expecting to see Tommy walk through the pub doors. 

New Years Eve night was the first instance where you caught a glimpse of any Shelby family member since Christmas morning. The crowd was so thick both you and Harry found yourselves working behind the bar. You heard rather than saw Arthur barrel through the door, shouting something about needing a drink to wash away the shit show of a year. You tried to listen closely to the voices to see who was with him, but the crowd volume was too overwhelming to zero in on. Harry had jumped at serving the snug himself, none the wiser to your inner turmoil. 

You were trying really hard not to act as pathetic as you felt when a body pushed through the wall of people against the bar. For a moment your heart leapt, thinking it was Tommy, but deflated when they fully turned to face you. 

“Hey beautiful,” Benji greeted, wide smile on his face as he leaned against the counter. 

“Harry’s already over there to serve you boys,” you answered, giving him the server-smile you’d been dawning all night and gestured toward the snug in between pouring glasses and trying to retain shouts of orders from the others at the bar competing for your attention. 

He shook his head, “I just wanted to come say hi. Busy night, huh?” 

The poor boy was trying to small talk while you were running back and forth behind the bar. You swallowed your annoyance with a mirthless laugh and shrugged your shoulders, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

He laughed, and you were sure he was saying something else, but the sound of John’s laugh through the snug window caused your attention to shift. You glanced in time for Harry to move out of the way of the window, eyes landing on Tommy, who was sitting between his brothers with a set of cards in his hands. When his eyes shifted, possibly to look through the window himself, you turned back toward the crowd of people. You didn’t want him to catch you staring at him, your pride still wounded from your last encounter. 

Benji’s voice calling your name brought your attention back, nearly forgetting he’d been there. “Did you hear me?” 

“Um, no, sorry Benji,” you apologized while waving an acknowledgment to the man who shouted for rum on the other end of the bar top. 

He chuckled, “I’ll try again when the crowd lessens.” 

Doubt that, you said to yourself as Harry fell back behind the bar with you. You chanced a glance toward the window, but the door was properly closed now, causing you to both sigh in relief and disappointment. 

The night ended with the crowd shouting with the sound of the church bells signaling midnight and the beginnings of the new year. Last call came an hour after that. Without you realizing, the Shelby and Peaky Boys had slipped out of the pub some time before closing, and you felt your heart break pathetically at the realization. 

Not that you had any expectations, but you’d come to enjoy the feeling of being a part of something recently. And to not even get a hello from any of them made you feel even lonelier than ever. 

Well, not counting Benji. Who also hadn’t come back like he said he would. 

And now you were officially living in the year 1919. For a brief moment when the realization hit you while cleaning up for the night, you nearly expected something monumental to happen space-time-continuum-wise. 

But the rest of the week went by just the same as it had before New Years. You were five days into the new year when you got to talk to your first Shelby since Christmas. 

Ada arrived at your front door Sunday morning with two company books concealed discreetly in a bag. You didn’t bother asking how she knew it was your day off and instead embraced her warmly. 

“Tommy said to not let you and the book out of my sight, but d’ya mind if I sneak out here to see Freddie while you work?” 

Your brow creased at her question, slightly surprised at the vote of no confidence from Tommy — as if you needed a chaperone to do the job you’d been doing for months now. “Oh, uh, no, that’s fine. I finally saw him at the pub last week, been meaning to tell you.” 

Ada’s eyes widened as she grinned, pulling you to sit with her on your bed. “What’d you think? You didn’t say anything, did you?” 

“Of course not, I didn’t even talk to him. Just overheard him in a booth with some other guys. He seemed nice though.” 

“He is,” she sighed, almost dreamily, and you shook your head at your friend despite the smile on your own face. “I just wish he and Tommy weren’t still at odds. He still won’t even tell me what they fell off about.” 

You hummed in consideration, “Would them being close again make it easier for Tommy to accept you being together?” 

Ada shrugged, “Dunno. Possibly.”  

“Well, don’t waste any more valuable time with me,” you gave her a friendly shove off the bed, causing her to smile again. 

“Thanks, I’ll be back in a few hours!”

After she left, you settled at your small dining table and dove in. 

The books were telling. The holidays seemed to be a very good time for the betting shop, which made sense you supposed with people trying their luck to make as much money as they could before the year end. 

The family books, however, were even more telling. New contacts had made an appearance, both as payers and payees, most of which seemed to be located in Digbeth. By the books, it seemed the Peaky Blinders had officially expanded into the new territory and there was no sign of slowing down. 

You finished the audit just as Ada returned, leaving again promptly and promising to see you later. 

——

Another week went by, the pub crowd slightly smaller but still lively enough to keep you busy. Benji showed up again about half way through the week. 

“I was hopin’ to take you to dinner sometime,” he finally said once you served him his drink. 

You blinked, “Like, a date?”

Immediately you panicked — did people use the word date nowadays? It was the boyfriend conundrum all over again and you were kicking yourself for not having learned more about historical slang or word use. 

Benji didn’t seem bothered by your use of phrase, instead shrugging. “Or we can go see a new picture.”

“Oh—”

“Or both,” he said with a chuckle and friendly smile. “What’ya say?”

“Um, I’m— I’m not sure,” you found yourself answering, surprising yourself. 

Since your first meeting with Benji, you thought you’d be in this position at some point, and at the time knew firmly that you’d have to kindly turn him down or express your disinterest in anything romantic with this guy. 

But now, you found yourself reconsidering. Benji hadn’t been anything but nice and friendly to you since meeting. Sure, the conversations had been flat, but that wasn’t necessarily his fault — you hadn’t really given him much to work with due to your own reservations. 

And maybe you’d been too quick to judge with the whole stealing from the company thing. The optimistic (and pathetically lonely) part of you could convince yourself that his math really had just improved over the months, and he didn’t actually have any nefarious intent. 

It didn’t hurt that he was quite handsome. You were surprised he didn’t have someone already. 

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually agree to go out with him nor turn him down completely. “It’s just I’ve — I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

Benji nodded, still offering you a smile as he set down a coin for his drink. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah,” you said noncommittally, finally giving him a genuine smile of appreciation. 

He smiled back before leaving, giving you a wave as he walked out the door. 

At his absence, you found yourself feeling guilty, thinking of what Tommy would think if he found out you were going on a date. 

You shook your head — to hell with what Tommy thought. You couldn’t keep up with what may or may not have been going on between the two of you. 

It was astonishing when you realized exactly how little time you and Tommy had actually spent together. The time span between that first night at the Garrison and Christmas morning accounted for less than five days. And yet within that time, you’d made out with the man four times and nearly slept with him twice. You felt more connected with him than you’d ever felt with anyone before. And not to mention you’d been tempted to tell him your big secret — hell, Christmas Eve night you’d basically shared the majority of it, just without the time travel aspect. 

All that to say that the total time you’d spent with the man had been tiny in relation to the bigger picture, and yet you could not get him out of your mind. The longer you went without seeing him, the heavier your heart grew and the antsier you became. 

What the hell was the matter with you anyway? The last time you’d been this strung out over a guy had been in high school when your hormones were running rampant and you had absolutely no self-awareness or all the finely honed self-respect you’d built up over the last decade. You weren’t a teenager — you were too old for these flighty and fruitless games. If the man didn’t want to be with you, (or if all he’d wanted was to sleep with you) he should just tell you. 

And now he’d all but banned you from his presence it felt, and your feelings of hurt had officially transitioned into anger. 

Why the hell shouldn’t you go on a date? If you were going to be stuck here, why not have a little fun?

“Benji?” You called, just as the door was starting to close. It opened, and he popped his head back into the pub, his brow up in question. “Dinner might be nice. How’s next week?”

 ——

That Sunday, you were surprised to see it was Polly at your doorstep with the books.

“Morning, love.” She greeted you, shoving the two books into your chest as she walked past you into your apartment. She took a seat at your dining table and began to take off her gloves with a huff, “Ada’s run off again, leaving the book transport to me. Not sure why I’ve got to stay here with you the whole bloody time, but when Thomas insists—“ 

“Did I do something, Polly?” You asked finally, unable to hold it in any longer as you sat down across from her and set the books on the table top. “It’s like Tommy doesn’t trust me anymore.” 

Polly shook her head. “It’s just been chaos with the Digbeth move, that’s all. Half our men are split, leaving the betting shop more vulnerable than we’d all like. It’s nothing you did. Got any tea?” 

Her words were encouraging, but the way she dodged her eyes and reached for her paper half way through still gave you that unsettled feeling. She lifted the paper to begin reading, a silent end to your conversation. Taking the hint, you silently poured you both some tea and began your work. 

But the back of your mind still churned as you went through the monotonous steps of math and pattern checking. Despite Polly’s reasoning, you still felt like you were being punished for something. You felt a level of guilt beneath your mountain of other emotions because despite all the secrets you had shared with Tommy, there was a pretty big one that you still hadn’t shared. Perhaps he’d finally grown tired of waiting, or had officially decided against trusting you after all. 

You physically shook your head as you moved on to the second book, shaking the thought away before you tailspun into a hole that you weren’t prepared to dig yourself out of while company was here. 

The thought made you look up at Polly for a moment, who was still reading through her newspaper meticulously. 

“Polly, can I ask you something?” 

She didn’t look up from her newspaper, “If it’s about Thomas, I can’t help you. That boy’s as unpredictable as ever nowadays.”

“It’s not that. It’s—“ you hesitated, unsure exactly how to approach the situation. Polly lowered her paper and rose an eyebrow. “You told Tommy you thought I was born gypsy.”

She folded up her paper and set it on the table. “I did.” 

“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” 

“It wasn’t my place.”

Your brow creased, “But you told Tommy.”

“I made a calculated decision at the time.”

You hummed, nodding as you looked down, then back up. “I’m not related to the Delphi,” you said tentatively, watching her face as you went on. “At least I don’t think so. To be honest, I’m not even positive if I have any Romani blood in me. I don’t really know anything, still.”

Polly didn’t respond, instead sat there in silence as she waited for you to continue. 

“You told Tommy that I had a gift. All because of my tattoo and because I guessed the date of the end of the war—“ 

“That’s not the only reasons,” Polly added, your eyes shooting up to meet hers. “I read your leaves.” 

Your brow creased, “My, what?” 

She nodded to the cup in front of you. “Your tea leaves. It’s always been one of my gifts to read tea leaves.”

“Perhaps you should talk to Pol,” Tommy’s voice from the other night triggered your memory. “She’s always been more in tune with that side of things, she could offer you some guidance.” 

Your eyes drifted to the nightstand, where you knew the small box Madam Despoina had given you was buried beneath your clothes in the drawer. You hadn’t touched it since you put it there, but the square lump was the first things your eyes snapped to whenever you opened the drawer. 

“Wait, isn’t there like an official process to reading leaves?” You countered. Teas and tarot cards were some of the maneuvers your mother had tried to learn herself — but of course when she couldn’t come up with the outcomes she’d wanted, she’d go out and pay ‘experts’ to do her readings for her. Still, she never found what she was looking for. 

The years of built up distrust for anything divination relation was causing you to tense at the conversation, but you forced yourself to really listen to Polly. 

“You always swirl your tea before you finish it, haven’t you noticed?” 

You hadn’t — but now that you thought about it, you realized that you did. You hated the taste of the grains of leaves at the end of your cups, so you always absentmindedly swirled to try and get them to stick to the edges. 

“What did you see?”

Polly began to explain a few of her early readings, how every sign pointed to heavy seer powers and a deep concentration to the far future, though something was always just off about every reading. “They began to change after the war ended, once you’d met Thomas. His changed too.” 

You swallowed. “Tommy didn’t mention that.” 

“I didn’t tell him.” 

You asked why. 

She chuckled, “It wouldn’t have meant anything to him. He doesn’t believe anymore. Deep down he might, but not enough to have convinced him to let you continue working for the company. That your time with us, with him, weren’t over yet.” 

Despite yourself, you scoffed, “You sound like Madam Despoina.” 

Polly smirked. “Did you find what you were looking for with the Delphi?”

“Sort of,” your eyes moved down to your hands. “Madam Despoina believes that speaking to my mother will help.” 

“I thought your family—“

“Dead,” you answered. “Yeah. She gave me something she said can help me talk to her one last time. I haven’t — I can’t bring myself to do it.” 

Polly hummed as she sat back in her seat. “We do believe that those who have left us can visit. Some have the gift to see them, even speak to them. But it can be dangerous. Once you let the spirits in, any spirits, it can be difficult to get rid of them.” 

You nodded, taking her words to heart as you absorbed the information. “I— I’m not a fortune teller. But I do have some knowledge of the future. It’s— it’s complicated.” 

Polly’s chin and brow rose. “Have you told Thomas?”

“Yes. Everything that I can tell.” 

Polly nodded. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, love.” 

You took a deep breath. “Then what’s with the freeze out?”

“It’s his way of protecting you, I assume.” Polly picked up her paper again. “You did react quite poorly Christmas morning — and the boys weren’t even that banged up. Still surprised none of them were shot. You’re going to need tougher skin if you choose to continue with this life. And I wasn’t lying before, the boys have been nonstop since the holidays. Poor Martha can hardly handle it.” 

She lifted the paper between the two of you and you took the signal again to mean the conversation had ended. 

You ended the final book audit having only run through what Polly had said twice. She rose to leave and collected her things. You were curious if she was going to grab your cup, but didn’t give it another glance as she walked toward the door. 

She turned, “Part of tougher skin means defying Tommy’s orders every now and then. It’ll be just Martha and I tomorrow at the house with the kids. We miss you.” 

With that, she gave you a pointed rise of her brow and left. 

You smiled as the door closed, feeling rejuvenated. Fuck Tommy and his orders, you thought, lifting your chin up the same way Polly had. You had your pride, you had your own agency, and you could go visit your friends if you damn well wanted to. Two and a half weeks had been enough of a freeze out, you decided. 

Tomorrow, you’d go back to the Shelby household. And if he showed up, you’d confront Tommy and tell him exactly how you felt. 

>> next chapter

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[bloodredfeathers]

Kisses

Drabbles about how I think the Savanaclaw boys would kiss because I'm in need of some major fluff with my favorite dorm rn

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchi

⚠Gender neutral reader, Leona gets a lil frisky towards the end, slight swearing in Jack's part, also Jack's is really long I'M SORRY I COULDN'T HELP IT HE'S MY FAVORITE HGKFHKFHD, absolute tooth rotting domestic style fluff with Ruggie

Leona Kingscholar

You missed him.

You missed him a lot. You hadn't seen Leona the whole week due to the heavy workload you had been assigned before the weekend. Crewel really didn't know when enough work was enough.

Nonetheless, you used seeing Leona as a reason to get your work done, and you did. It was Friday, every last piece of work turned in, and you were on your way to see your favorite beastman.

"...mmmmmwhat...?" You could hear Leona growl from inside his dorm room after you knocked. Opening the door slowly, you were met with drawn curtains, creating a dimly lit room and a sleep enticing atmosphere.

"Oh my King," you knelt down and began speaking as though you were in a fairy tail. "Please forgive me for intruding upon your sacred private quarters. It is merely I, your beloved, here to see you-"

You looked up to see Leona, crossing his arms and staring down at you. His emerald eyes practically glowed, even in the dim light of his bedroom.

"Get up herbivore," he groaned. "If you're gonna be on your knees, at least make it for a good reason~"

"LEONA!" You stood quickly, face heating evidently. His arms enveloped you and you felt him rest his chin on your head.

"I'm kidding, herbivore..." He said sleepily. "I've missed ya..."

You smiled from where your face was buried in his chest and reciprocated his embrace, squeezing him tight and sighing contently.

"I've missed you too..." You murmured. Leona grabbed your chin with his hand, forcing you to look at him. He smirked and let out a quiet, amused huff. You pouted.

"What?"

"Nothing," he grinned, shaking his head. Leona tilted your head upwards, lowering his own to meet you in a long, slow, deep kiss. It had you shivering and melting into him, leaning your whole body against his broad figure. Breaking the kiss, you panted and gazed into his eyes.

"Ohhh I don't think you'll be leaving this room anytime soon, herbivore~" Leona teased, leaning down to kiss your throat. "I wasn't kidding when i said i missed ya. Now whaddaya gonna do about it, hmm~?"

Jack Howl

"Deuce, have you seen Jack?" You had searched the grounds of Night Raven College at least three times over and still couldn't find your wolf anywhere. Deuce shook his head.

"I haven't seen him since our Flight class," Deuce said. "He told me he was going to look for you after school, but judging from what's going on right now, I'm assuming that didn't quite go as planned."

You rolled your eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered. You scanned the crowd and couldn't see Jack anywhere. If he were there, it wouldn't have been hard to see a 6'3 bulky, tanned skinned, white haired wolf beastman that literally EVERYONE knows. You groaned aloud, deciding to give up searching, until...

"Wait, his dorm!" You nearly yelled. "I feel so damn stupid...why didn't I think to look for him in his dorm?"

You ran as fast as you could to the Savanaclaw dorm, huffing once you got there. Some student looked at you weird, whereas others minded their own business. You searched for anybody familiar when you saw-

"Ruggie!"

The hyena turned and smiled as he saw you.

"Hey! What brings ya here?"

"Where's Jack?!" Ruggie put his hands up in defense, chuckling.

"Relax, he's up in his room. I think you came at a good time, he came back looking like his favorite cactus just died."

You quickly thanked him and ran to Jack's room, knocking on the door. No response. You slowly opened the door to see Jack sitting on his floor, playing with a little potted cactus, tail limp and ears flat, a sad scowl on his face.

"Jack?" You called softly. His head shot up and his eyes widened, ears alert as he stared towards you. You stepped inside and shut the door behind you, turning back around to be almost knocked over in a bone crushing hug.

"Jack if your tail wags any harder your homework is going to fly out the window-" You warned him.

"Don't care," he said, face buried in your neck. "Can't help it, I missed you too damn much..."

Out of nowhere, jack picked you up and tossed you onto his bed (gently of course) before climbing over you and laying down on top of you. You giggled and pet his hair, rubbing his ears as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

Jack raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and cupped his cheek with your hand. Laying his hand over yours, Jack leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and he smelled like cactus flowers.

Once the kiss was broken, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, savoring the shared warmth between you two.

"I love you, Jack," you said breathlessly, eyes still shut tight and forhead still resting against his. Jack breathed shakily before running a large hand down your side, gently but lovingly caressing you.

"I...I love you too..."

It was moments like these where Jack knew he didn't have to have his guard up, where he could finally relax, because he knew he would always be safe to be himself with you~

(Lol can you say self indulgent-)

Ruggie Bucchi

"What was that for, huh?" Ruggie stared up at you from where you leaned over him. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet, some time to relax and lie in the cool grass beneath his favorite tree. Why was it his favorite? To keep it simple, it kept the grass beneath cool because it provided a lot of shade.

He was lying in the grass with his eyes closed when out of nowhere, you had decided to show up and give him a quick peck on the forehead.

"Nothing really," you grinned. "I've been looking for you all day, and I missed you! Also, you looked super cute, all relaxed like that~!"

Ruggie grinned, grabbing you as he began to tickle you to death.

"RUGGIE STOP!" You squealed as his relentless hands continued to attack your most ticklish spots.

"Never!" He giggled boyishly as he eventually calmed and brought you to sit between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms encircled your torso as his chin rested on your shoulder. You reached up to pet his hair and Ruggie sighed happily, closing his eyes.

"You know," Ruggie said softly. "I came out here to get away from people, to relax and be alone for a bit. But honestly, this is so much better..."

You smiled softly. Ruggie was young and fresh faced, some even saying he looked younger than he was. But he was a very responsible man and a hard worker. He deserved a break every now and again. He shouldn't have had to sneak away.

"Well whenever you need a break from things, especially from Leona," you gazed into his eyes, cupping his cheek. "Just hit me up, I'll always be down to help you unwind!"

He smiled cutely and pulled you in for a quick kiss, pulling back to look at you before going in for another, this time slower, longer, more passionate.

"I love you, Y/N. I always will, please don't ever forget that..."

MAN THIS WAS JUST THE PICK ME UP I NEEDED I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER AFTER WRITING THIS

Also I kinda tried to associate their name colors with their eyes (Leona was green, Ruggie blue and Jack orangy yellowy amber idk-)

I hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for more, extras~

💥Akira💥

[lulublack90]

Prompt 30 - Diamond

@jegulus-microfic March 30 Word count 992

Previous part First part

Peter cowered in the middle of the cell. James and Sirius stood in front of him, glaring down at the pitiful man. 

Evan had put a block on Peters's magic while he’d been unconscious so he couldn’t transform into his animagus form. 

Sirius twirled Peters's wand in his hand, looking eerily like Regulus. Peter didn’t stand a chance. 

They’d decided, in case anything went wrong, that it was best if only the two of them were seen by Peter. Remus was supposed to be with the werewolves. Regulus, the Rosier twins and Barty were supposed to support Voldemort. If Peter somehow wormed his way out of this, he could potentially ruin everything they had so far accomplished and put them all in danger.  

“James, please!” Peter begged from the ground. “I was scared. I didn’t know what I was doing.” James clenched his jaw. Peter was lying to him. He caught the back of Sirius’s robes to stop him from leaping on Peter. 

“You knew exactly what you were doing, Peter when you got me to reveal that Sirius was still alive. You took me out to lunch and wheedled it out of me, and then you went straight to your master and spilled your guts. How could you betray me? How could you betray Sirius?” He was spitting by the end of his tirade.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The Dark Lord he—he threatened my life if I didn’t do as he said.” Peter was crying now. Fat tears dripped down his face and turned the stones beneath him black.

“And Sirius would die if Voldemort decides to send someone after him because of the information you fed him.” He had to stop as his voice began to feel thick. 

“We were your brothers, Peter! We would have done anything for you! We would have died for you. You could have come to us if you were scared. But you know what? I don’t think you were sacred. I don’t think he did threaten you. I think you went to him yourself. You always were a little rat.” Sirius pounced, his hands curling into claws as he attacked the screaming Peter. 

James dragged his friend off the quivering mess on the floor. 

“Sirius, calm down. We need to find out what he knows.” James whispered harshly into Sirius’s ear. Sirius growled and spat on the floor beside Peter. 

“Then, let’s hurry up and do it, James. I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself from turning into Padfoot and using my teeth.” Sirius gnashed his teeth together as though Padfoot was already trying to break through. James ran a calming hand down Sirius’s back, and his friend immediately unpuffed his chest and backed away from Peter a step. 

“Come on then, Peter. What else have you told Voldemort?” James’s voice was cold. He’d never been betrayed like this before. Even Regulus had never hidden his intention to join the Death Eaters, though, with Regulus, it was because his mother had given him no other choice. Peter had had many options, and he still chose Voldemort. 

“N-n-nothing. I haven’t told him anything else.” Peter whimpered. 

“Liar,” Sirius snarled. His eyes twitched as he stared at Peter. It took James a second to realise Sirius was performing legimency on Peter. 

After a few minutes, Sirius turned away and strode out of the cell. James conjured heavy manacles and chained Peter to the wall. He found Sirius curled up in Remus’s lap. He looked up when James walked in. His eyes were dull. The usual diamond gleam and sparkle that resided there had been ripped away by whatever he’d seen inside Peter’s head. 

“He told them everything.” He croaked. “Everything we’ve ever said about our assignments, everything from the meetings.” He let out a sob. “James, he was planning to help death eaters get into your parent’s house.” James felt the blood drain from his face and Regulus’s arms wrapping around him. 

“How—how far along was his plan?” He choked out, looking back at the door he’d just come through. 

“Not very. He hadn’t even mentioned it to Voldemort yet. I think they’re safe.” Sirius still looked panicked. They were his parents as much as James’s. 

“Anything else?” James asked, not sure if he wanted to hear anymore. 

“I was right. He joined them voluntarily.” James felt any loyalty he felt for Peter slip away. That man wasn’t his friend, and he couldn’t believe he’d ever trusted him. 

“What do you want to do?” Regulus asked, holding him close. James bit back the pain. He’d deal with it later. 

“We need to give him to Moody and make sure he knows he can’t make a deal with him.” 

It took some juggling, but they eventually managed to get Peter to one of the Order safe houses, and Moody appeared moments later, wand raised. 

“What are you doing here without permission?” He barked, still not lowering his wand. 

“We caught your spy. You’re welcome.” Sirius growled at him. 

“That wasn’t the plan, Black.” They were glaring at each other. 

“Yeah, well. He was planning on killing the Potters, among other things. He went to Voldemort and asked to join them. It’s time he was caught.” Moody didn’t argue. Effie and Monty Potter were loved by all, and even the grizzled Alastor Moody didn’t want to see anything bad happen to them. 

“Fine, I’ll get the rest of the information out of him and find somewhere to keep him.” He grabbed Peter’s shoulder and began shoving him further into the house. 

“No deals, Mad-Eye.” James’s tone was a warning. Moody scrutinised James from head to toe and snorted through his nose. 

“Fine, no deals.” 

James and Sirius went to the Potters house, needing to see they were safe and hug them. James had a quick conversation with Regulus, explaining what had happened between them and Moody, and then he was in Effie’s arms. 

Final part

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 53

Mosspounce is caught giving his catch to a rogue, whom Lavendertwist chases off.

[Image ID: Mosspounce speaks to Lemmy, but Lavendertwist approaches, yowling, “Mosspounce!”]

“So you’re…” Mosspounce said, “...an enforcer?”

“It’s a position of some authority with the Witch Hunters,” Lemmy explained. “I’m responsible for carrying out the plans of our higher ranking members and managing the day to day activities of some of our community. I make sure they’re following the rules of our home.”

“Like a codekeeper?” Mosspounce asked.

“Do you think I know enough about Clan culture to say?” Lemmy scoffed. With cold weather slamming into the Clans early, Mosspounce met his friend on her side of the river that day, beside a small fire. Mosspounce caught a small fish and staked it beside the fire to cook. Lemmy’s fur looked yellow in the firelight and the dull morning haze that broke through the thick clouds.

“Well that meeting of yours looked a lot like one of our Gatherings,” Mosspounce sighed, poking the fish. “Maybe you know more than you let on.” 

“Mosspounce—” Lemmy groaned.

“No, please don’t tell me to let it go,” Mosspounce snapped, his tail smacking the ground. “This is the third time I’ve seen you since then and you still won’t explain what in StarClan your friends are doing. You promised we would talk about it later, Lemmy. I need you to tell me the truth, were you one of the cats who killed Bubblemoon?”

“No,” Lemmy growled, lips curling. Mosspounce forced himself to relax. He stared at the fire to cool the flames itching in his blood.

“You have roles and leaders and faith, just like we do,” Mosspounce huffed, “so why try to kill us?” Lemmy tucked her tail over her paws. She stared at the fire as well. It was easier than one of them meeting the other’s eye. The smoke blew over Mosspounce’s head.

“Do you know what I mean when I discuss the Other Side?” Lemmy sighed. “Most of the loners and house cats of the land believe that after a year in the mortal world settling our affairs, we will all go to the Other Side to play out our own eternal peace. Good or bad, we all go to the Other Side. The crows guide us there when our time comes, and they protect its denizens.”

“Can your leader really speak to crows?” Mosspounce asked. He glanced up, half expecting to see a beady-eyed crow watching from the trees, ready to fly back and report.

“It’s the other way around,” Lemmy explained. “Madeline would not understand the crows if they did not want to speak to her. The peace of the Other Side is more sacred than anything else. We call those who disturb that peace witches. It’s the job of the Witch Hunters to make sure no one is disturbing the dead. Madeline became the Witch Hunter General about a year ago, and that’s when she started learning more about the Clans. We didn���t know about your StarClan until she heard a story from a housecat. She believes you are the worst witches to ever wander near our home. She believes killing you all will protect the peace of our dead. She’s been studying you and strategizing how to pull you apart ever since she declared war in the name of the Other Side.”

“StarClan chooses to talk to us,” Mosspounce huffed. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth as he spoke. “They want to be involved in our affairs. We aren’t disturbing anyone! How is that any different from your crows?”

“Madeline either does not know,” Lemmy muttered, “or does not care. She and many of the Witch Hunters believe they are securing their eternal peace by ambushing who they can by the borders. They hope to find your weaknesses and tear into your camps. They’ll kill most of you and rescue the young cats to save them from witchcraft.”

“That’s what you wanted me to do.” Mosspounce pulled the cooked fish away from the fire. He stared into its dead eye. “You wanted me to leave my family to die. Is that what you still want, Lemmy? I may like you, but I’m not letting you do that.” Even though he laughed through it, shock slipped between the cracks in Mosspounce’s anger. Did he just say he liked Lemmy? Out loud? He waited for Lemmy to mock him. He needed her to mock him for that, to ease the strain in the air. Mosspounce dared to look at Lemmy. She was staring at him, expressionless.

“Mosspounce, why do you think I visit you?” Lemmy asked. Mosspounce wanted to say “Because you like me too,” but found his words dead well before they reached his mouth. Lemmy walked up to the river. She stared downstream, toward the ocean stretching out into infinity in the distance. “I dream of rock-lined shores and strangers sitting beside me, offering me suggestions. It’s usually a black kit, encouraging me to listen to my deepest curiosities. I know I’ve never met her before.” Lemmy looked back to Mosspounce. “She told me she was a member of StarClan.”

“Not many cats get visited in their dreams,” Mosspounce mumbled. He joined Lemmy along the river. “Usually they visit leaders and clerics. You… you must be pretty special if StarClan speaks to you.”

“No, Mosspounce, I can’t be special,” Lemmy insisted. “I can’t be speaking to the dead. I’m a Witch Hunter! It is my job to protect the dead, not to cavort with them!” She sat with a huff, staring at her rippled reflection in the rushing river. “I tried to ignore the dreams, but after Madeline ordered us to attack a Clan patrol and gauge their strength, they started coming every night. They’re constantly asking me to see you, of all cats. It’s why I didn’t kill you last summer. The Witch Hunters are trying to do what they think is right, I can’t—”

“Mosspounce!” Mosspounce nearly choked. Lavendertwist stood on the other side of the river, collarless. Mosspounce turned to Lemmy, but she hurried back through the trees.

“Wait!” Mosspounce yowled, but it was of no use. Lemmy would not be coming back that day. Lavendertwist waded across the river, watching the fire and the cooked fish. Mosspounce groaned and braced himself.

“Mosspounce, were you cooking this fish for your runaway friend?” Lavendertwist asked. Mosspounce’s stomach clenched. He didn’t know who Lemmy was. Mosspounce liked to say he had his father’s charm; now it was time for him to inherit his father’s skillful lying.

“She was hungry,” Mosspounce gulped, slowly joining Lavendertwist by the fire. “She was thinking about joining the Clan. There’s so much prey at camp, I thought it would be alright to cook something for her.”

“I’m not mad, don’t worry,” Lavendertwist sighed, tail touching Mosspounce’s side comfortingly. “Glad you have a friend, but really, Moss, you know we can’t be sharing prey with cats who aren’t in the Clan. We gotta feed Clammask’s kits.”

“I’m sorry,” Mosspounce chuckled awkwardly, giving his chest a lick.

“Make sure everyone else eats today, and we won’t tell my mother,” Lavendertwist purred with a wink. He kicked dirt over the fire and dug a hole for the code-breaking fish. Mosspounce nodded along. Better to not eat than tell Lavendertwist who Lemmy really was. Still, he couldn’t help but glance the way Lemmy ran and wonder, how much longer would she be safe with the Witch Hunters?

(Mosspounce: 14, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Lemmy: 29, female, Witch Hunter enforcer, cold, deep StarClan bond)

(Lavendertwist: 19, male, warrior, playful, good singer, good storyteller)

Even though he is excited to be an apprentice, Scalekit still needs coaxing from James to step up for his ceremony. He is named Scalepaw and is apprenticed to Lavendertwist.

[Image ID: Scalepaw is now an apprentice, and is clearly developing white spots of vitiligo. Under him, it says LEVEL UP! SCALEKIT -> SCALEPAW.]

(Scalepaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, avid play-fighter)

Rustshade gives Leatherkit a task.

[Image ID: Rustshade says to Leatherkit, “Leatherkit, fetch Carnationspeckle for me. I need to ask her something.” Under Leatherkit, it says + NEW SKILL: ACID PLAY-FIGHTER, + NEW SKILL: CONFIDENT WITH WORDS.]

(Rustshade: 97, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Leatherkit: 1, male, kit, impulsive, avid play-fighter, confident with words)

Tempestshade goes on trial to determine her responsibility for Ripplefern’s death.

[Image ID: Puddlewhisper stands with Tempestshade while Troutpool speaks. Under Troutpool, it says + GUIDANCE FROM STARCLAN: LIVING DEATH OMEN.]

---

“This collar is killing me,” Tempestshade groaned into Puddlewhisper’s ear, one paw digging under the tight leather around her neck.

“Tempestshade, please,” Puddlewhisper muttered. She eyed the cats gathered around her, engrossed in Tempestshade’s trial. She rubbed the band around her paw. Only one other cat had ever worn the band in RippleClan’s history; Puddlewhisper’s mentor, and the cat in charge of finding Tempestshade guilty of deadly recklessness. Rustshade took this trial as seriously as he took Shadowdrop’s trial over a year ago. How ironic, then, that it was one of Shadowdrop’s kits on trial.

Save for Weedfoot’s statement of the accident’s aftermath, there weren’t exactly other witnesses to Ripplefern’s death. It made it hard to disprove anything Tempestshade claimed (she had spoken first in the trial, fervently defending the sudden and accidental nature of the incident). Most of Rustshade’s argument, therefore, was based on Tempestshade’s character. He actually called Oilstripe to testify as a historian, relating Tempestshade’s personal history to the Clan. Puddlewhisper flinched for Tempestshade’s sake with each new descriptor thrown out. Kit-like. Reckless. Irresponsible. Selfish. 

“Downstar, at this point, Rustshade is bullying my charge,” Puddlewhisper finally snapped midway through Oilstripe’s testimony. “None of this changes the facts of the event. Tempestshade could be StarClan’s shining example of responsibility, and Ripplefern would still be dead!” Nausea almost overcame Puddlewhisper. Ripplefern had loved the ocean. She loved swimming with Carnationspeckle. If she hadn’t been with Tempestshade that day, would she still be with her littermates? Puddlewhisper glanced toward her surviving family. Waspdawn was as stoic as ever, watching the trial intently from in front of the medicine den. Scalepaw watched from behind him. Paleseed and Lavendertwist leaned into each other, with Elmsprout occasionally licking Lavendertwist’s ear. James sat as close to Weedfoot as he could without disrupting her role. How badly did Puddlewhisper’s mother want to slip into the comforting embrace of her family?

“I would appreciate it if I could continue laying out the basis of my argument, Puddlewhisper,” Rustshade huffed. 

“Alright,” Downstar snapped with a wave of her tail. “Let’s try to finish this statement and move on with this trial, shall we?”

“Lucky for us, I’ve asked all of my questions,” Rustshade sighed. “Thank you for your time, Oilstripe.” Oilstripe glanced awkwardly toward Tempestshade and Puddlewhisper. She bowed her head and scurried back into the crowd, settling next to Carnationspeckle and Troutpool.

“Puddlewhisper, you haven’t had much to say,” Downstar said. “Do you have a witness to call or evidence to present?”

“Actually, Downstar,” Puddlewhisper huffed, getting to her paws, “I don’t have anything else to present. Because there is nothing I could present to you. This was a sudden, unexpected accident. There was nothing else Tempestshade could have done to save Ripplefern’s life. Even if you truly suspect that she, she abandoned my sister to the waves to save herself, there’s no way to prove that. Weedfoot and Troutpool found Tempestshade after the accident, the raft has nothing to tell us… Rustshade’s argument is baseless.” Would Ripplefern agree? Puddlewhisper could almost feel her sister rubbing against her in silent support (yet did not notice Oilstripe staring her way, seeing something Puddlewhisper could not).

“And yet I direct you back to Oilstripe’s official summary of Tempestshade’s life in the Clan,” Rustshade interrupted. He had the gall to block Puddlewhisper’s view of Downstar. “Tempestshade’s kithood mischief led to the death of her father. She was an ornery apprentice. She has put herself above her Clanmates many a time. What is more realistic? That Tempestshade fought to save Ripplefern and risked her own life? Or that she left Ripplefern attached to the raft and saved herself?”

“Hold on!” Troutpool squirmed away from her mothers and marched into the clearing. “Hold on, please. I have something to say about all this.”

“Is this as a witness, or as a cleric?” Downstar asked.

“A cleric,” Troutpool gulped. “Tempestshade technically is at fault for the accident, but not in any way she could control.” Tension rippled through RippleClan. Puddlewhisper dug her paws into the sand.

“You say that like I caused the wave,” Tempestshade scoffed. Troutpool flinched, whiskers twitching in pained sympathy. Tempestshade’s bravado faded, slowly replaced with horror. “That is what you’re saying.”

“Shortly before the trial, I was checking the gardens,” Troutpool explained quietly. “A cloud passed over the sun and covered the garden in shadow. When that happened, I couldn’t breathe. My whole pelt itched and burned. For a second, I thought StarClan was striking me dead. But then the cloud moved away from the sun. As soon as the light touched my fur, I could breathe again. I needed time to understand what that sign meant, but after listening to my mother’s summary of Tempestshade’s life, I think I understand.” Troutpool turned away from Tempestshade and Puddlewhisper. “Tempestshade was born to a dying queen. I believe that this event… infected her on a spiritual level. We saw it with Shadowdrop and one of Downstar’s lives, and now we see it with Ripplefern. Being alone with Tempestshade risks death. She is a walking omen of death.” The Clan was eerily silent.

“That’s a lie,” Tempestshade growled, lips curled. “That’s a lie! I’m not an omen! Tell them, Puddlewhisper!” Yet Puddlewhisper was as silent as everyone else. Tempestshade stepped away from her, eyeing her Clanmates like they were ready to attack. She left long claw marks in the sand. Puddlewhisper flinched away from her charge, staring at Troutpool.

You couldn’t call someone guilty for being born an omen. You could, however, feel guilty when said omen ran out of camp the moment the innocent verdict came back, and no one dared to follow her.

(Tempestshade: 14, female, caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

(Puddlewhisper: 18, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)

(Rustshade: 97, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Downstar: 112, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Troutpool: 14, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

Halibutdusk spars with Splashkit while James looks after Honeykit and Drumkit.

[Image ID: Halibutdusk plays with Splashkit while James sits with Honeykit and Drumkit in the back. Under Splashkit, it says + NEW SKILL: NEVER SITS STILL. Under Honeykit, it says + NEW SKILL: HAS LOTS OF IDEAS. Under Drumkit, it says + NEW SKILL: MOSS-BALL HUNTER.]

(Halibutdusk: 45, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Splashkit: 1, male, kit, noisy, never sits still)

(James: 129, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Honeykit: 1, male, kit, noisy, has lots of ideas)

(Drumkit: 1, female, kit, quiet, moss-ball hunter)

[thatcrazypercyjacksonfan]

Now, I’m not sure if anyone in the TOA fandom has ever mentioned “Tongs A Lot, Dad”, a short story found in Camp Half-Blood confidential, but I strongly believe it adds (or perhaps reinforces) a lot when looked at with the additional context and characterisation the Trials of Apollo provides. 

An almost diary entry like addition in the short book, the story is told by Connor Stoll, following him and his brother as they poke around the old attic where the Oracle of Delphi remained for decades in the interest of scoring loot. At this they are semi successful, as they are made almost ridiculously vital to the canon plot of HoO with the find of celestial bronze tongs, which are inscribed with the instructions “for plucking the Tartarus Napkin from fire”. And if you are reading this post, you probably have a pretty good idea of why that’s important.

Now, what does this have to do with Apollo? Well, I find it highly probable that this was Apollo’s doing, for multiple reasons. 

1. The tongs were found in the oracle of Delphi's old abode, which is obviously Apollo’s domain, a place you would think he’d be very familiar with- the original place of the Oracle of Delphi was sacred ground, in fact, and even if that doesn’t quite translate to modern day... there is that theory about him being Camp Half Bloods Patron, pioneered by @tsarisfanfiction, I believe. Whatever hold the ancient laws have on the gods, I think we can somewhat assume that places such as these allow more wriggle room. 

 2. This notably happened basically simultaneously with Rachel becoming the Oracle, as seen here, “While everyone else was waiting to see if Rachel, the new Oracle, would survive....we made our move around to the back door of the Big House.” At this point, we’ve just wrapped up PJO. How would Apollo of known to set this up now? Well, we already know from Octavian in SoN that Apollo talked to him personally, and that their talk must of happened before Olympus closed, because he was stuck on Delos after. So if Apollo can put that into play, why not set up this? After all, Apollo is the god of prophecy - he could of understood it was needed. He obviously knew there was a threat. 

3. In the books (before ToA) we only see Apollo in Camp Half Blood twice- once to take Percy’s group and the hunters there in TTC, and once at the end of PJO to, as Conner so delightfully puts it, wait to see if Rachel would survive the Oracle. He was right there. And if that’s not enough for you, the reason Conner picks out the bag with the tongs? A “beam of golden light, shot upward from the floor” startles him. We find out later in another story that Apollo is directly confirmed to have been the one to do this- gifting Rachel the famous tripod stool of the Oracle. It fits almost to well.

“But!” You might say, protesting, “The title confirms who did it! I mean, it’s not like Apollo is Connor Stoll’s dad!” And to that I say- although the title does suggest that Hermes is responsible, it’s never confirmed, and more importantly- it’s in Connor’s POV. Why shouldn’t he assume it’s his dad? And why would he know otherwise? Perhaps you could make another connection with Hermes due to his shrine in Tartarus and point at that as his involvement, but wouldn’t it make more sense if Apollo knew it was a Child of Hermes who had to have the tongs, and acted accordingly? Afterall, last we saw Hermes he had a significant grudge against Annabeth, and more importantly has done nothing to suggest he’s capable of such foresight, especially at this point.

Now that I have (hopefully) convinced you of Apollo’s involvement, another titular question must be answered- why does it matter? What’s the ramifications of this? Well, considering that this napkin basically ends the civil war between the Greeks and the Romans... a lot, actually. Specifically, it allows Annabeth to communicate that reconciliation can be reached if Reyna, a Roman, returns the Athena Parthenos, an important Greek statue to the Greeks. (Also interesting to note she addresses this to Rachel, Apollo’s Oracle... another subtle connection). 

In ToA, Zeus punishes Apollo mainly for two stated reasons: Revealing the Prophecy to soon, which becomes pretty clear is not how prophecy works. And encouraging Octavian to declare war on the Greeks. But wait? If the Napkin succeeds due to Apollo, that means that he is trying to stop the war, which in my opinion follows more along with his characterisation in ToA. So what happened with Octavian? The fact of the matter is, people more clever then me have attempted to solve this question, such as @zazzander and @fearlessinger (Highly recommend this post if you are interested in the topic!) 

The tongs (and thus the potential for the Napkin) was put into place months before any true threat would be realised by most characters. So it wasn’t a frantic backpedal of trying to fix his mistakes to avoid punishment by Apollo. It was deliberate. Premeditated. Now, it could be that Apollo just knew the tongs would be needed, but not what for. Unfortunately, we don’t know how his powers work. But that’s boring. However, if you take the view that Apollo’s communication with Octavian was part of a larger strategy to reunite the camps... (again, see the linked post). Well. Funny thing, because that’s exactly what the Napkin facilitates. The two camps stop fighting because of this one, simple message, and the effect it had. They focus on the true enemy. Gaia.

What does this tell us then about Apollo, then?

Well...not much new, surprisingly. ToA does it’s job well. We know Apollo cares, deeply, about his kids and demigods as a whole. We know he often acts subtly, through quiet actions that he’ll never admit to. It’s maybe the final piece of evidence you could point to and say definitively that Zeus’s punishment was unjust, but we already knew that (although funnily enough, Zeus doesn’t- and even if he did, he’d probably just point to the violation of the interference laws and punish Apollo anyway.) What it does is add on to a very firm characterisation that ToA finalises, and showcases how once again Apollo is so much more then he first appears. 

[bundoesnotcompete]

A sequel to my Stellaron hunter reader found here:

Content: not much to warn about. Implied violence as usual. Also the implied destruction of an entire planet at the end. Possible oocness. Tagged characters appear and do play some small role in this chapter. Lord i do not know how to link please let that link work

"Although not much is known about the original Aeons, we do know about the power and deeds done to create our universe. It has been told that the Aeon of Origin shattered their body to create the base of the universe we live in. On the other hand, the Aeon Of Creation gave their body to fill the universe with life and living beings. While some speculate that pieces…."

Creation and Rules of the Known Universe -Vol 1

The world of Zeven was as beautiful as the advertiments said. The thick green foilage and large variety of flowers that grew on many of the plants and houses. The captial city of Pevol was as breathtaking on the ground as it had been in the air. You did some research into the object Elio had mentioned in the scripts for the others that was supposed to be on planet. Though you did not know what each individual script contained you did know it revolved around an object called The Stones of Origin. The world of Zeven was a rather isolated one due to them not having many ways to contact other solar systems. While it made finding information on the stones difficult, It also made it easier for your plans to be put into place.

The Stones of Origin were a sacred object to the people of Zeven and the system of Zakryn. It was gorgeous stones that glimmered deep blues and purples. The only issue was that the security for the stone you wanted was rather tight. Of course seeing the stone itself wouldn't be difficult, all that required was some minor string pulling and manipulation. Getting it out on the other hand, would be near impossible. You sort of wish Elio had given you a script just so you could steal a stone. They were beautiful, and called out to you in a sort of primal way. It made part of you wonder if Elio knew you would find the stone and wanted to see what would happen if he did not give you your script. Prehaps he did not need to give you the script for you to follow it.

"Master Xevus, we will be arriving to the Palace of Pevol. We will be landing in roughly five minutes." A snake-like being announced beside you. You merely nodded in response and the being left hurriedly back to the front the train. Ah yes, taking the name Xevus hadn't been in your original plan but it was a minor bump in the road. You would still meet the royalty of this planet, so it did not matter what name you took to meet them. Even if the real Xevus met an unfortunate end when he confronted you, his name was still useful. Deciding to take the time to take a glance over your appearance, you noted everything to make sure it was perfect. Making sure your halo is beautiful as ever, wings are groomed, the suit you were wearing was not wrinkled horribly were all important. It did no good to have an unkempt appearance. You closed you eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, everything was perfect.

-

"Ah, Master Xevus it is wonderful to meet you finally. I've heard many good things. I am Emperess Falrun and this is my daughter, Princess Meda." A large Medusa like woman greeted you as you entered the palace. She gently took your hand and bowed. While her young daughter merely bowed. Rising up, she let go of you hand a gestured for you to follow. The large hallways were made of golden stones that were dull in the sun as to not hurt the eyes. Though it has been said this palace used to shine and glitter as if it had been made of real gold.

"It took a long while for the council to relent and give me the blessing to contact help from the outside systems. The abundance beasts are beginning to get out of hand. I hear a doctor of your status has been researching ways to help those effected by plagues such as this. I know you are merely here to research the Violet Plague, but anything you find on other plagues would be greatly appreciated." The snake-like woman paused in front of a large door. "This will be your room. We have set a pair of clothes for tonight's ball. My daughter will return this evening to take you to the ballroom." The large woman opened the door to your room and led you inside.

"To your left is the showers." She waved a hand towards an extravagant door leading to the bathroom. Sweet heavens you couldn't even see the bathroom but you knew just from the room alone that you were about to be spoiled. "Now I ask that for the next hour you stay in your room. A servant and guard will be by to give you a more detailed tour if you wish it. There will be other guests from other world's such as the Astral Express and a representative from the Xianzhou Alliance." The large alien and her daughter headed for the door. "Ah! Before i forget, thank you Master Xevus for helping my planet and system. Now please enjoy your day. A servant will be by shortly to see if you need anything. I must attend to other affairs. Thank you." The empress gave a short bow before closing the door.

Playing the role of Master Xevus was one of the best things you've ever done. The large room had some of the most beautiful plants you had ever seen. The overly large bed was soft and the sheets were silky. The bathroom was even better. The large tub/shower combo was one of the best you had ever seen. You were definitely glad you disposed of the true Xevus after seeing the treatment he was to get.

After a nice bath you put on a nice set of clothes and set your appearence to something nice. Scanning yourself in the mirror you decided that it would do for now. Now all you had to do was to wait for your tour to start.

----

The tour had been rather informative, but boring. The Stone of Origin residing on Zeven wasn't in the palace, but instead kept in a temple. When you had returned to your room to get ready for the ball, you had been horribly bored. It was still another hour before it started and it had only taken you half of that to get ready. The suit and gloves ypu were wearing complemented you nice, even if it was a bit uncomfortable. A knock at the door interrupted any plans for tomfoolery that were about to form in your head. A shy voice came through the door after a small series of knocks.

"Master Xevus? It is Princess Meda. The empress has requested all special guests come to the ballroom early." You walked to open the door to a nervous looking Meda. Her white scales shifted nervously and she looked ready to run, well slither, away at the sight of you. You look to you her and nodded as if telling her to go on. Your smile and soft demeaner seemed to ease her nervousness towards you. "Come I shall take you to the ballroom." The two of you made you way to the ballroom, the princess nervously trying to make conversation. It was obvious she was young and naive, prehaps you should use that to your advantage in the future? Maybe she could get you a more private tour to see the stone? It would be nice to get your hands on a stone without bloodshed.

As you entered a massive ballroom you scanned the area. The large room was filled with tables of food and drinks. Large banners hung from the sides of pillers. In the center of the room was a faceless representative from the Xianzhou Alliance, an IPC representative who you did not recognize but noted for later, and a part of the Astral Express crew. A sort of semi-circle line had formed around the empress by the time she took note of your entrance. The pearly white scales of the empress glittered as she shifted to see you. You absent mindedly wondered if her scales would fetch a nice price at a black market somewhere.

"There they are! Master Xevus, we were just about to begin. Come join us and we will begin." The Empress happily announced. The only spot available was one right beside the IPC agent and Welt Yang. Welt looked rather pale and the IPC agent was beginning to turn an intresting shade of red and purple. What better place to stand then between the two. With a plan in mind, you happily stood between the two, knowing full well what you were doing. Once the large Empress began speaking you quickly tuned her out. Her voice was rather grating on the ears after awhile. You took a better look at your surroundings to soothe the boredom in your mind. Plans were quickly mapping out for places to lurk or flee if need be.

Oh my, look at that spot. It sure would be a shame if some noble took a banner to the skull as it fell, accidently, of course. It seemed like hours before the empress finally dismissed all of you. As you quietly made your way to the drinks table you felt two pairs of eyes on your back. It was going to be an intresting night, especially when you aimed to misbehave. Of course, not enough for the empress to know it was you but enough to distract other guests. It would do no good to get in serious trouble without getting your hand of the stone. With ear wings fluttering happily, you got your drinks and waited. There was enough downtime until the guests arrived to plan anyway.

---------

Surprisingly, neither Welt nor the IPC agent approached you. Other then the few small problems you caused for the fun of it, you largely kept to yourself. Eavesdropping on the other guests to see what you could uncover. Sadly, it seemed all they could talk about was who was banging who and the latest scandal. Mid-way through the night was when someone from the Astral Express decided to approach you. March's bright dress and attitude visible from far away. She had strolled up to you with all the confidence of someone who was unaware they were talking to a very wanted war criminal.

"Hello Mr. Xevus! I am March 7th of the Astral Express. Its a pleasure to meet you." She held or her hand to you to shake. You shook it a began to sign. She looked crestfallen though at your response. "Oh, I can't read sign. I'm sorry, but I'd be glad to go find some paper for you to write on." You shook your head a took out a pen and paper you carried around for situations like this.

"It is okay," you had written poorly. The language of Honkai Star Rail sucked to write and it was a miracle you could do so to begin with. Typing on a phone was so much easier. "May i ask what the Astral Express is doing here?" You added on and March read it. She look happy to talk about what the crew was here for. Why did it seem like she had wanted to ask you questions and not the other way around?

"We are here to hello the people of the planet." You gazed slightly passed her as one grey haired girl was approaching at what seemed like light speed. March continued to talk. As she went to ask you a question, Stelle put her hand on March's shoulder and March proceeded to introduce her. "Mr. Xevus meet Stelle, she is another crew member of the Express. Stelle meet Mr. Xevus." Stelle's staring was beginning to make you uncomfortable. "Can i ask why you are here Mr. Xevus?"

Oh look, there was Dan Heng fast approaching your position. How to do you flee from this conversation? What if he was going to join in on your interrogation from the brightly colored girl? Why was Stelle still staring at you like that? Talking to people was not your strong point and you had other things you needed to do. Like finding information on how to access the Stone of Origin without a large group of tourists with you. It would do no good to have the tourists tattle on you when you ran off with the stone. While it was tempting to just kill them and be done with it, you still had some morals. As you prepared to respond to March's question, Dan Heng appeared behind March and spoke firmly.

"I apologise Mr. Xevus, but March and Stelle are needed by another of our crew." Dan Heng had quickly apologised before dragging the girls away. You decided right then and there that he was your favorite of the express. Mentally thanking him for rescuing you from Stelle's staring, you set out to mingle with the other guests. Now, to find answers to your questions and maybe get up to a bit of no good. While you would find you answers, the Astral Express would leave with more questions then answers.

------

Welt knew the moment he seen the Stellaron Hunter walk into the ballroom that he should have expected something like this happen. While he could do nothing to prevent their arrival and prescence he could at least try to act impartial. It was a bit difficult to ignore the fact that honaki energy that radiates off them though. It reminded him of back home. The sheer energy coming off of them putting him on edge. It was only made worse by the fact that they were one of the most wanted beings in the galaxy and the empress seemed clueless of your status. The IPC agent wasn't clueless, though, if the shade of color they were turning was any indication.

When the other crew members had arrived, he informed them of the situation. Having the Stellaron Hunter Saturday pretending to be someone else did not bode well. The fact that there was little they could do to tell the empress without facing intense backlash did not comfort anyone.

When March had ran off and greeted you, Stelle nearly had a heart attack. Mr. Yang had told them to avoid them. While neither would get into serious trouble, Welt and Himeko would give them the 'I am disappointed in you, but not surprised' look. Stelle did not want that look so she ran to try and get March back with the crew. When March had introduced her she had been taken aback by your appearance. Were you related to Robin and Sunday somehow? The eerie similarites between you and the siblings had kicked her overactive mind into gear and conspiracies filled her head. In the end, It ended up being Dan Heng getting them both out of a one-sided conversation with you. It was then they had discovered that March had intended to ask you questions in order to gather information.

March had gotten almost nothing from your very brief comversation. While nothing else of note happened that night, the crew still left with more questions than answers when they left the ball. If only the other crew members hadn't been preoccupied, maybe they could have gotten some answers from you. Though March did learn to inform someone of her plan next time she did something like that.

When the night was said and done, only one walked away with the answers to their questions. From the Express crew wondering about the current crisis and your appearance to the IPC agent wondering how to get you thrown off world and maybe even arrested, many were unsatisfied with the night.

As sun set and rested until the new day, the Stone of Origin in the Temple of Pevol waited for its owner to return. Wailing into the cosmos until its owner consumed it and it could become a part of the whole again. The infection of Honkai energy radiating from the stone continued to make others sick and amplify the planet's problems for another day. The wailing song of the stone would continue for another day and for days after that until you finally come along to reclaim it. Until then, pieces needed to be put in place for all stones to collide and return to their owner. With time and the script, all would align for you to regain a fragment of your true self back. You just needed to be patient.

--------

Excerpt from the Inter-Planetory Post:

"As news continues to pour in from the Destruction of Telvio-3, the Stellaron Hunter named Saturday remains at large. So who is Saturday? Well, not much is known about them. The Family of Penacony claims to not have any records of a Halovian named Saturday and nearly all information known about them is either held under top secret clearence, or common knowledge. However, it is known that Saturday does not like the IPC. While the motive behind the Destruction of Telvio-3 is unknown, there are theories that the rivalry between IPC and Saturday may have caused…."

-----

END MISSION ONE: As The Night Falls, The End of Daylight

START MISSION TWO: Hello! My Devil in Sheep's Skin

‐----------

End notes: This is set up for a lot of stuff to come. I am not very good at writing character's dialogs, but I do try to keep them in character as much as possible. I really need to get my pacing straight and I am not satisfied with this one, but out of the three versions of this chapter written, this is the one I liked best. We need more bad guy reader and if no one will write it then I will.

The next chapter of my SAGAU Lamb story is done for those that are intrested. I need to add some minor tweaks and additions, but the bulk of it is done. I may come through and edit small portions of this if i see anything wrong with it but everything looks alright on my end. See you next time.

[lmh8903]

Benny Rodriguez x Reader Pt. 11 LAST PART

Years had passed since that unforgettable summer evening at the Sandlot. The small, dusty field had seen countless games, friendships, and even a proposal. Now, it stood as a cherished landmark in our lives, where we returned whenever we needed to reconnect with our roots.

Benny and I were married the following spring in a small, intimate ceremony surrounded by our closest friends and family. It was a beautiful day filled with laughter, love, and the promise of a shared future. Benny's career in baseball continued to flourish, and I pursued my passions, finding fulfillment in writing and teaching, with the occasional baseball playing.

As the years went by, the Sandlot became more than just a memory. It became where we brought our children, teaching them the same values of friendship, teamwork, and love that we had learned on that sacred ground. Our son, Y/S/N, had inherited Benny's love for the game, and our daughter, Y/D/N, shared my passion for storytelling. Together, they brought new life to the Sandlot, their laughter and excitement echoing the sounds of our youth.

Ten Years Later

The Sandlot reunion had become an annual tradition. Every summer, we gathered to relive the glory days, play a game, and share stories of our lives. The boys, now men with their own families and careers, always made it a point to return. The bonds we had formed all those years ago remained unbroken, a testament to the power of true friendship.

As the sun set on another reunion, we sat around a bonfire, the flickering flames casting a warm glow on our faces. The children played nearby, their voices a joyful chorus that filled the night air. Benny sat beside me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, our hearts full as we watched the next generation create their memories.

 Their laughter echoed across the field, blending with the distant memories of our voices.

"Look at them," Benny said, his arm around my shoulders. "They're just like us."

"Yeah," I replied, my heart swelling with love and nostalgia. "And they'll make their memories here, just like we did."

"Remember the time Ham brought out the chaw?" Squints said, chuckling as he poked at the fire with a stick. "That was one of the worst ideas ever."

Ham laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, we all learned a lesson that day. But it sure made for a good story."

"Speaking of stories," Yeah-Yeah chimed in, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "remember when Benny proposed? That was one of the best moments ever."

I smiled, my hand resting on Benny's knee. "It was perfect," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "And it all started right here."

Timmy, who had become a successful coach, nodded in agreement. "The Sandlot gave us so much more than just a place to play. It gave us a family."

The conversation flowed easily, each of us sharing memories and updates on our lives. As the night wore on, the children began to drift off to sleep, their energy finally spent. Benny and I tucked the kids into their sleeping bags, their faces peaceful in the glow of the dying fire.

With the kids settled, Benny took my hand, leading me a short distance away from the group. The stars above were a brilliant tapestry, reminding us of the countless nights we had spent dreaming beneath them.

"Do you remember our first late night here?" Benny asked, his voice soft and filled with nostalgia.

"How could I forget?" I replied, squeezing his hand. "It was the night everything changed."

Benny smiled, his eyes reflecting the love and memories we shared. "I never imagined that moment would lead us to this—our family, our friends, and a lifetime of adventures."

"Neither did I," I admitted, leaning into him. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt a profound sense of contentment. The Sandlot had given us so much—a place to belong, friends who became family, and a love that had grown stronger with each passing year.

Benny kissed my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. 

With the stars above and the Sandlot beneath our feet, we knew that no matter where life took us, this place would always be our home. As we walked back to join our friends by the fire, the laughter and love that surrounded us was a reminder that the best stories are the ones we create together.

The Sandlot was more than just a field; it was the heart of our story, the foundation of our dreams, and the beginning of a new legacy. As the stars began to twinkle in the sky above, I knew that no matter where life took us, we would always have this place, and we would always have each other. And as long as we had each other, the adventure would never truly end. 

A/N: wellllllll....thats it guys! i hope you enjoyed this story bc i know i enjoyed writing it. thank you so much for reading it!!

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  dialogue  prompts  taken  from  marvel’s  werewolf  by  night,  directed  by  michael giacchino.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ the known universe, with its heroes and marvels, but what of the darkness? ❜

❛ fifty seven confirmed kills myself. ❜

❛ i can almost smell the blood on your hands. ❜

❛ i like your whole look here with the makeup. it's a killer trademark. ❜

❛ i understand the importance of anonymity in our line of work, but it gets lonely.❜

❛ so, any of these hacked beasties your handiwork? ❜

❛ give me what's mine, i'll leave now. ❜

❛ so many death dealers in one room. ❜

❛ a monster unlike anything you've faced will be released into these sacred grounds. ❜

❛ good luck. i'll be rotting for you. oh, forgive me. graveyard humor. ❜

❛ those who do not survive will be honored appropriately. ❜

❛ for tonight, it is every hunter for themselves. ❜

❛ we spill all blood for the hunt. ❜

❛ there is no peace without blood, and so it shall be. ❜

❛ i suggest we just pass each other by. ❜

❛ death is coming for you, lassie! ❜

❛ well, of course i was gonna come find you. ❜

❛ you keep saying that you're gonna be careful each time, and here we go again. ❜

❛ you can't keep counting on me to save you. this is the last time. ❜

❛ all you have to do is don’t die. ❜

❛ how’s your night going? ❜

❛ you didn't want to fight before either, did you, running into me? ❜

❛ i'm having a hard time believing you hunted and killed monsters. ❜

❛ well, i'm not that type of hunter. ❜

❛ you know, maybe we can help each other. ❜

❛ ‘cause you're, what, the monster's friend? ❜

❛ all families have something in common. they follow us. for good, for bad. ❜

❛ we could die here. it's an option. it's not my choice, but it's an option.❜

❛ cross me, and i’ll kill you. ❜

❛ you have a lovely name. and your friend is waiting for you. ❜

❛ a monster. masquerading as one of our own. ❜

❛ you freed a monster with a monster? ❜

❛ i can't wait to find out what breed of evil you are. ❜

❛ until you rip my throat out, i suppose i’m fine. ❜

❛ yeah, i know, i'm an idiot. i know. but i'm also a human. ❜

❛ i'm also a human. perhaps not in the category that you would call a human a human. ❜

❛ you see, i've got systems to manage the hurt i could cause... ❜

❛ just stay away from me until you can't. ❜

❛ i would never hurt you or hurt any one of them. ❜

❛ any hunting that i do is done by a part of me that is not me. and that’s not the part you’re with right now. ❜

❛ the next full moon is in five days. we have plenty of time to figure something out. ❜

❛ i shouldn't have asked for your help. ❜

❛ i need you to look at me. okay? do not break eye contact, no matter what.❜

❛ i need to remember you. ❜

❛ just kill me as i am. otherwise there will be no mercy, i promise. ❜

❛ once this is over, you'll notice my hands are clean. his? not so much. ❜

❛ [name], you still in there? ❜

❛ man, i cannot think of food right now. ❜

❛ let’s do sushi. i owe you that. ❜

[mothdruid]

OK ONE MORE HEHE because i am on SUCH a roommate kick and pajama buying kick rn 🥹

from the roommate prompts, "you look so cute." "i'm literally in my pajamas but okay." with our baby bob floyd please my love!! 💗

happy happy birthday!! mwah!! 🎉

seb, again, i'm so sorry for how late this is. but here is our lovely baby bob floyd!!! here is some fucking fluffy fluffy fluff for our lovely baby boy <3

pairing.

robert 'bob' floyd x afab!reader

warnings.

fluff, kissing.

For once you had the day off. You finally had time to bake and clean your shared apartment. It had been on your list of things to do for a few weeks, but the day was just never right. But that morning when you woke up? It was as if you took a full syringe of vitamin B12.

You spent the morning casually cleaning. Sweeping the kitchen and bathroom, doing the small load of laundry you and your roommate had, even doing the dishes that were left over from the day before. When you started watering the plants around the apartment your brain started to buzz with excitement.

It wasn't often that you got to bake, especially from scratch. Bob had brought the idea of baked goods for his birthday a few weeks ago. Specifically snickerdoodles and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. They weren't too hard to make, so you intended on slamming them all out today while he was working late. It was anything too late, just an extra two hours, but it gave you just enough time to get a batch of each done.

The snickerdoodles came first, then came the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. It was a bit strategic, being able to leave the bag of left over chocolate chips left to munch on. The last batch was baking when Bob came home.

Bob didn't expect the sight that he saw when he walked into the the apartment. He immediately noticed the smell that filled the apartment, and the Taylor Swift playing in the back ground. He quietly closed the door, making his to the kitchen. And there you were.

Bob had acknowledged a long time ago that he had a crush on you. It was something that he never thought you would need to know. A sacred secret, one that potentially ruin your friendship. When Bob came into the kitchen he felt his heart melt.

You were shaking your entire body around, singing Taylor's Shake It Off to your hearts delight. Bob noticed your attire, realizing it was still what you wore to bed last night. It oddly warmed his heart, knowing that you truly had a day off to do whatever you wanted. Bob watched you reach to the counter, grabbing a handful of chocolate chips. Then you turned around, jumping when you noticed Bob.

"Oh, fuck! Bob!" The chocolate chips fell from your hand, scattering around the floor of the kitchen. "You can't scare me like that!"

"I didn't mean to," Bob smiled big, laughing a little.

Bob tossed his coat over the back of a barstool. The both of you got on the floor, searching for the stray chocolate chips. As the two of you did Bob couldn't help but marvel at you. Stealing glances when you weren't looking, only until you caught him.

"Huh?" You asked.

"Oh, I- nothing." Bob shook his head, trying to ignore it.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" You weren't trying to pry, just being inquisitive.

"I- youlookreallycute." It was like word vomit, all the words coming out as one.

"Oh, I'm literally in just my pajamas but okay." You cheeks were on fire now. Did Bob just call you cute?

Bob decided to just dive in, throwing the caution he loved so much to the wind.

"It doesn't matter, you look cute all the time."

You looked up at him, eyes meeting. He adjusted his glasses, tongue wetting his lips. The two of you were close enough that if you both leaned in you could kiss. Just when the idea crossed your mind, the alarm on your phone went off.

Without a second thought you jumped up, putting the chocolate chips you picked up on the counter. You pulled the tray out of the oven after finding an oven mit. You set the tray on the stovetop, turning back around to see Bob standing up.

Bob's cheeks were dusted with a rosy color. He took a few steps towards you, almost coming chest to chest with you. You slowly took off the oven mit, not breaking eye contact. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring. Without warning he started leaning towards you.

But the kiss never came.

Bob leaned to the side, moving his arm around you to turn the oven off. A relieved breath passed your lips. It was loud enough for Bob to pick up on. He pulled back, not moving from his spot in front of you.

"Don't want to burn the apartment down, now do we?" Bob laughed lightly.

"Bob, I-"

"Hey," he reached out to caress your arm, "I'm sorry for say-"

"Don't be," you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers in his, "cause I think we feel the same way."

Bob smiled before leaning in, pressing his lips so delicately to yours. With his free hand he removed the mit from between your two, setting it down on the counter. He moved your arm to wrap around his shoulders. Your lips moved with his perfectly, as if harmony had finally been achieved in the world.

When the two of you separated giggles came from you. Bob moved and kissed the kiss of your inner arm that wrapped up around him.

"What's so funny?" Bob whispered.

"Just that I've thought of this forever and now, it's happening." You said, letting go of his hand and bring it up to adjust his glasses for me.

"What if I told you I've thought the same thing?" Bob smiled.

You pressed a kiss to his lips again. Your fingers ran up the back of his head, threading through his hair. Bob hummed against your lips, feeling like he was on cloud nine. When he pulled back you spoke before he could.

"Now try these cookies I made you," you grinned wide, "cause they're baked with all my love."

[fearandhatred]

Bestie first of all good luck with your group project!!!!! Secondly im very curious about the unnamed bible fic👀 what is it about?

hello bestie thank you <3 the presentation is in 2 hours and i'm stressed the hell out so i'm answering this first to take my mind off it lol. also sorry in advance this will be quite long because i do love the concept of this fic

ask game

ok firstly idk why i said unnamed bible fic it DOES have a name i just forgot. it's called "that's the pain", taken from and inspired by the song the origin of love from hedwig and the angry inch (my favourite musical)! it's a retelling of plato's (soulmate) myth of how people used to have two faces, four arms, four legs etc. but because we were proud and disobedient, zeus split us in two and so now we spend our lives trying to find our other half.

so this fic was intended to be something like that but about angels instead: angels used to have multiple heads and limbs but because some of them decided to rebel, god split them apart as punishment and cast half of them down to be demons, then wiped all memory of how they used to be. the premise is that crowley and aziraphale used to be one being that was split apart, and when they're both in the garden of eden they feel this inexplicable pull towards each other which leads to them meeting on the wall. both of them attribute this feeling to them being on opposite sides and thus not being allowed to be near each other, and aziraphale takes it as a sign that they should not be talking which is like one of the conflict points of this fic. and thus begins the next 6000 years lol.

and i called it a bible fic because i was gonna write it bible style HAHA. i kind of ditched this whole fic because i wasn't sure how sustainable that was going to be and so i didn't know if i would have to change to prose at some point.

anyway i did share some snippets last time but i'll just put them here again. this is from near the beginning of the first book of said fic bible, called apochorismós, which roughly translates to separation in greek.

Apochorismós 1:7-16

⁷But on an indiscriminate day, the day to eclipse all days, an angel spoke out against the Lord, for he had pondered his position in heaven and deemed the rule of God to be insufficient. ⁸And he, Lucifer, angel of the highest order, with his two pairs of wings and eyes and arms and legs, said unto the other angels: "The Lord claims that He extends his grace to all beings, for He is mighty, and the one true God to rule over all others. But who has determined it to be so? ⁹He has endowed us with knowledge, and knowledge seeks change, and unto us what follows shall be the natural order of things. And so I will ascend to the throne, above God and the stars, and all of creation shall play by my hand." ¹⁰And God heard of the words of the angel Lucifer, and burned with righteous fury. ¹¹"I am displeased," God said unto all the angels, "for you have sinned. A sin come upon one who remains unquestioned is a sin upon all, and for this sin you shall be ripped apart, for cursed now is the sacred ground on which you walk. ¹²"This is your punishment: through strength and defiance you have separated yourselves, and only through strength and defiance shall you return." ¹³And from a mighty hand shot bolts of lightning that cut right through the angels and split them in parts. And all orders of angels split apart, until they had one pair of eyes, and one pair of arms and legs and wings. ¹⁴And the Lord cast out the angels who were with Lucifer to roam the salty ground of the earth. These were the fallen. And He made it so that the angels and demons alike did not remember they had once been joined together, in body and in spirit. ¹⁵Such was the natural order of things. ¹⁶Then came the first war.

Apochorismós 2:19-20

¹⁹The serpent felt injustice at his words, but did not speak against them. "Perhaps it was the plan to have you give away your sword," he said, in sarcasm. "And when His plan has finally been fulfilled, may that fill the unsettling emptiness and misery within my belly." ²⁰''You feel that as well, then?" The angel asked, surprised, as he had felt the same for all the days of heaven and also as guardian of the gate. "It is worse with you near."

ok that's all. sorry for the rant i went insane but also now i'm thinking about how i could incorporate hanahaki into this

[inmyfxith]

How they would react if... you accidentally pull on their queue

Including -> Neteyam, Neytiri, Tsireya, Aonung, Tonowari & Tsu'tey (might make the others later)

-> Requested

Non-romantic relationship -> If you accidentally pull on Neteyam’s queue, he would be upset about it because he would see it as a violation of his personal boundaries and disrespect his feelings. However, Neteyam wouldn’t be violent or aggressive, he would try to resolve the situation peacefully by expressing how he feels and seeking an apology. He may also withdraw and avoid further interaction.

Romantic relationship -> If you accidentally pull on Neteyam’s queue, he would prioritize preserving the emotional bond with you over the physical discomfort of having his queue pulled. He would express his disappointment or hurt feelings to you in a gentle, understanding, manner, hoping to find a solution that works for both of you. Neteyam would also try to understand why the pulling happened in the first place.

Neteyam stood still as the delicate threads of his being were disturbed. You, unaware of the fragility of the bonds that held him, pulled at his queue. A wave of sensations flooded through him - the sharp pain, the disappointment, the hurt.

He drew upon the depths of his composure and turned to face you, the one who had caused the disturbance. You looked at him with a mixture of guilt and confusion, your eyes not comprehending the weight of your actions. Neteyam could feel the warmth rise in his cheeks, but he kept his voice gentle and understanding.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned. "I know you didn't mean to pull my queue, but it still hurts. Can we talk about it?”

You were taken aback by his kind words, tears welling up in your eyes. "I am sorry, Neteyam. I did not know it would hurt you so," you said, your voice quivering.

Neteyam reached out and took your hand, pulling you close and wrapping you in a warm embrace. "It's okay," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead. "I am not angry, just seeking understanding. Let us explore this together and find a solution that suits us both."

And so, you sat and spoke from the depths of your hearts, delving into your emotions and finding common ground.

Non-romantic relationship → If you accidentally pull on Neytiri’s queue, she would be angry at you for not understanding how important the queue is for her people and her culture. As she views humans as threats she would take offense at any actions that show disrespect. Neytiri would give you a stern look, trying to keep her emotions in check in order to avoid a confrontation.

Romantic relationship → If you accidentally pull on Neytiri’s queue, she would react with annoyance, but she would be tempered by her affection for you. She may express her feelings to you about the situation, and take the opportunity to have an open and honest conversation with her partner about boundaries.

Perched atop her abode in the boughs, Neytiri gazed upon the verdant woods. But her peaceful reverie was abruptly disturbed, as a sudden yank on her queue incurred. With a fierce scowl, she spun to face the perpetrator, ready to defend her sacred honor.

Yet what she saw was not a foe, but the countenance of her beloved. You, her human lover, stood before her with a mixture of remorse and fear. Realizing your mistake, you hung your head in guilt, awaiting her verdict.

But Neytiri's wrath was soon assuaged, as she beheld the apology in your eyes. With a sigh, she approached and took your hand, her gaze softening as she spoke.

"To touch a Na'vi's queue is a sacred bond," she chided, her voice firm yet gentle. "Only those closest to our hearts may hold it in their hands."

"Forgive me, Neytiri," you replied, contrite. "I never meant to cause offense, only to bring joy to your day."

Neytiri smiled, her hand lifting your chin to meet her gaze. "I know your heart is true, and so I will forgive you," she said, her eyes shining with love. "But in the future, let us be more mindful of our actions, for the sake of our bond."

With a smile, you embraced her, your arms encircling her waist. Resting your head upon her belly, you whispered, "I love you, more than words can express." And Neytiri held you tight, her love for you confessing.

Non-romantic relationship -> If you accidentally pull on Tsireya’s queue, she would react with patience, asking you to be more careful or even why you pulled on her queue. She may try to explain to you the cultural significance of her queue and how it represents a deep connection to the natural world and her ancestral spirit.

Romantic relationship -> If you accidentally pull on Tsireya’s queue, I feel that she would respond with understanding and maybe even forgiveness. But that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t feel hurt or bothered. Tsireya would communicate her feelings to you in a gentle and non-confrontational way. She may even express the importance of respecting her queue, and how it is tied to her spiritual identity.

You were strolling the sandy shores when you suddenly spotted a beautiful blue-skinned woman. Her hair flowed like a river, a brilliant shade of indigo.

Unthinking, your hand reached out to touch the braid that wound its way down her back. But as your fingers brushed against it, your grip tightened and you pulled, causing her to wince.

She turned to face you, her eyes reflecting surprise and sorrow. "Why did you tug on my queue?" she asked, her voice a soothing melody.

Embarrassment flooded through you as you realized your mistake. "I apologize, I didn't mean to," you said, flustered. "I was simply curious."

Tsireya took a deep breath, her body calming. "My queue is a symbol of my bond to the natural world and my ancestral spirit. It's a sacred part of me and tugging on it disrupts not only the balance within me but also the harmony of the world around us."

She gazed into your eyes, her voice filled with grace. "Though I know your actions were not intentional, I ask that you be mindful and respectful moving forward. If you have questions, I would be happy to answer them."

Her words were gentle, and you felt a wave of remorse wash over you as you absorbed the weight of your mistake. Her words were gentle, and you felt a wave of remorse wash over you as you absorbed the weight of your mistake.

Non-romantic relationship -> If you accidentally pull on Aonung’s queue, he would react with surprise, annoyance, and maybe even hostility. He would see your action as a disrespectful invasion of his personal space. This would trigger an emotional response, which could range from surprise to anger. At first, he may step away from you to express his discomfort toward the situation. This physical distance would help him regain control of his emotions, he may then verbally express his anger, or even use physical force to make his point, such as pushing or hitting you.

Romantic relationship -> If you accidentally pull on Aonung’s queue, he would feel angry at first but he would probably forgive you. He would likely react with a harsh reprimand and a cold demeanor, showing you that he takes his queue very seriously. However, after a moment of reflection, Aonung would likely soften his demeanor, as he realizes that the act was accidental. Aonung might show you a small act of affection as a way of saying that your relationship is still intact despite the mistake.

Amidst the lush and verdant forest of Pandora, Aonung and you strolled hand in hand, basking in its beauty. But a playful tug on his queue brought your blissful stroll to an abrupt halt.

Aonung spun, his eyes afire with anger, his expression stern. He pulled away, his voice a low growl as he spoke, "What do you think you're doing? My queue is not something to be toyed with."

Your expression changed from playful to worried as you realized that you had upset him. "I'm sorry, my love," you said, your voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just trying to get your attention."

Taking a deep breath, Aonung's scowl faded as he looked into her eyes, filled with regret and fear. He spoke, his voice firm, "My queue is a part of who I am. You must understand the significance of it. I cannot simply forgive your actions without a proper apology."

You nodded, understanding the weight of her actions. "I am deeply sorry, Aonung. Please forgive me."

In that moment, Aonung's demeanor changed, his anger dissipating. He stepped closer, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder. "I forgive you," he said, his voice warm and loving. "But please, be more mindful in the future.”

He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek, showing you that your relationship was still intact despite the mistake.

Non-romantic relationship → If you accidentally pull on Tonowari’s queue, he would react with both surprise and gentleness. He would be quick to undestand that your action was accidental and not intended to cause harm or discomfort. He would gently ask you not to touch his queue as it is a significant part of his culture and holds spiritual significance. Just as his daughter, he may also try to educate you on the cultural importance of the queue and why it is disrespectful to touch it without permission. Tonowari might also try to make sure that you not feel embarrassed or ashamed about the situation.

Romantic relationship → If you accidentally pull on Tonowari’s queue, he would be patient and would not take offense to your action. He may want to make sure you are comfortable and happy, so if you’re feeling guilty or apologetic about pulling on his queue, Tonowari would reassure you and try to make you feel better.

Admiring the intricate tattoos that adorned Tonowari's skin, you couldn't resist the temptation to play with his flowing queue, like silken strands blowing in the wind. Your playful touch turned to a gentle tug, a mistake that caused Tonowari to flinch.

But his eyes softened as he gazed upon you, noticing the guilt and fear that etched upon your face. With a warm smile, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and whispered, "Do not fret, my love. Such a small thing cannot diminish my love for you."

And so, he pulled you into his embrace, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort and security. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of the love that bound you together.

"You are the light that illuminates my soul, the beat that stirs my heart," he whispered. "Never should you feel guilty or ashamed, for I love you just as you are, always and forever."

All your worries dissipated, replaced by a serene calm that only comes from being loved and cherished. You melted into Tonowari's embrace, feeling safe and protected. All your worries dissipated, replaced by a serene calm that only comes from being loved and cherished. You melted into Tonowari's embrace, feeling safe and protected.

Non-romantic relationship → If you accidentally pull on Tsu’tey’s queue, he would react with anger and frustration, seeing it as a personal affront, as a sign of disrespect not just to him but to his entire culture. Tsu’tey would instantly confront you, demanding an explanation for your action. Depending on the situation, he may also try to challenge you to defend his honor.

Romantic relationship → If you accidentally pull on Tsu’tey’s queue, he would be surprised first and maybe react with discomfort. Just like the others, he would see it as a violation of his personal space but would also understand that it was an accident. So he may end up forgiving you, and try to move past the incident after helping you understand and respect his beliefs and customs.

Tsu'tey sat in quiet contemplation, beside the flickering fire pit, when a sudden tug disturbed his peace. He spun around, a scowl of anger painting his face, to see you standing before him, with apologetic eyes.

"What act of disrespect is this?" he boomed, his voice echoing with fury.

"Forgive me, my love," you stammered, taken aback by his wrath. "I meant no harm."

"No harm?" he spat, disbelief tainting his tone. "Do you comprehend what this symbolizes to me? My queue is a testament to my heritage, my culture, my very identity. To tug it is to spit in the face of all I hold dear."

Your heart ached, seeing the pain in his eyes, as the magnitude of your mistake dawned on you. You begged for his forgiveness, but he would not be swayed.

"I demand an explanation," he growled, his voice a low rumble of menace.

You gathered your courage, and shared your intent, explaining that it was a playful pull, devoid of any offense. But he would have none of it. He felt that his people, his very soul, had been insulted, and he would not rest until justice was served.

The night passed with a tempestuous exchange, as he sought to educate you on the severity of your actions, and you sought to appease him with remorseful pleas.

[iturbide]

*reads tags on the last post*

...ok but now I'm actually curious about your issues with TOTK👀

okay so to be per, fectly clear: Tears of the Kingdom is a really fun game. I've been playing a lot of it, aimlessly wandering around, exploring the Depths, finding shrines, doing side quests, and so on. At this point I've cleared the four regional quests, a bonus mainline quest I wasn't supposed to know about yet I found the shrine early and had enough hearts to open the door, what can I say, I'm curious, I have the Master Sword, and I think most of what's left is armor upgrades and wrapping up the main story.

But also I have been spoiled since the game came out about what's in store and boy do I see a lot of similar narrative issues to my gripes with Fire Emblem.

So we might as well start off small with how TotK actively rewrites its history in ways that are even more extreme than Skyward Sword. Skyward Sword introduced Hylia and Demise as concepts, with Hylia inheriting the Triforce from the Golden Goddesses of Din, Nayru, and Farore and tasked with protecting it, while Demise appeared as a demonic entity intent on taking that power for himself. As of Skyward Sword, Zelda was written as the mortal reincarnation of Hylia, thereby retroactively contextualizing her powers. The Triforce has been a power source sought after and fought over through every prior entry in the series, and even though BotW didn't make outright reference to it, the Triforce was clearly present on Zelda's hand when her powers awakened and appeared in full when she sealed Calamity Ganon at the end of the game.

And Tears of the Kingdom does away with it completely.

Hylia is mentioned as the only goddess. The Golden Goddesses aren't referred to at all. There is no Triforce at all, it's instead been replaced by the Zonai 'Secret Stones' even in the ancient past, despite the fact that we saw the Triforce at the end of the last game. It was right there. Zelda is also no longer the reincarnation of the goddess: instead her powers are re-explained as being the product of the historic marriage between the Zonai Sage of Light and the Hylian Sage of Time, giving her command over both (but she's considered only the Sage of Time for some reason?).

Also, BotW pretty heavily implied that Hyrule was a matriarchy: it's the queens and princesses who have the sacred power, so it stands to reason that Zelda's mother was actually the one in charge of Hyrule before her death, and the king only stepped into the leadership role on a temporary basis until Zelda came into her powers (hence that pointed "heir to a throne of nothing but failure" remark in one of the memories). But despite there being a Hylian queen right there in the ancient past, the game firmly establishes that Rauru is the one with the power, and Sonia is just his consort, a priestess who he chose to marry.

And then there's the Shiekah. Throughout all of BotW we were surrounded by these amazing machines, ancient technology crafted by the Shiekah and unearthed in working condition after a myriad in the ground which are still running and wreaking havoc a hundred years after the Calamity. We start the game in a Shiekah Shrine that literally saved Link's life and allowed him to recover from what should have been fatal wounds, though it did take a hundred years to do so.

And all of that is gone in TotK. Not a trace of it remains: the shrines have all been wiped from the face of the earth, the Divine Beasts are nowhere to be found, the Shiekah Towers have evaporated into thin air -- and the shrine that saved our lives is completely gone, replaced by a hot spring. It still bears the name of the Shrine of Awakening, but none of the miraculous technology remains.

Personally, the idea that either Purah or Zelda would consider the Skyview Towers worthy of dismantling that Shrine completely shatters my suspension of disbelief. They're both scientists: they should want to study all of that in detail to understand how it works, not destroy it for glitchy impersonations of the old towers I hate the Skyview Tower miniquests so much.

(Let me tell you, it was absolutely chilling for me to get to Rito Village and see an empty place where I clearly remembered there being a shrine. The Shiekah presence in history has basically been wiped out in TotK outside of Kakariko Village, and I don't like what that says considering that the Shiekah were also victims of a genocide by the ancient king of Hyrule.)

And then there's the imperialism. I have my issues with Three Houses and every ending needing Fodlan to be united under a single banner, though it's most egregious in CF where Edelgard's stated purpose is returning Fodlan to its proper state unified under the Imperial Standard. TotK is worse. There have been some excellent breakdowns of the narrative implications, touching on everything from the loaded imagery and black-and-white narrative purpose of Ganondorf and the Gerudo (dark-skinned evil desert dwellers who oppose the good and glorious worshipers of the goddess...where have I heard that before...) to the game showing outright that the other races of Hyrule were treated as lesser vassals in the ancient past (the Sages being masked and therefore erasing their individual identities, receiving the Secret Stones that Rauru had been hoarding only when Rauru needed help to fight Ganondorf and thereupon swearing their very lives and the lives of their people to him and his empire???). They're great analyses, they've been living in my brain for weeks.

But I think the thing that I'm most mad about is that the narrative bends over backwards to keep anything from changing. At the start of the game, Link's arm is so badly damaged by the Gloom that he nearly dies and he spends the rest of the game with Rauru's arm in place of his own...but then, in the end, he magically gets his original arm back no worse for the wear. Zelda, in an attempt to empower and restore the Master Sword, turns herself into a dragon, a process that we are told outright in the narrative will cause her to lose herself and is therefore irreversible...but then, in the end, she magically returns to her human form thanks to her ghost ancestors somehow reversing this supposedly irreversible process. And on top of all that, Hyrule itself is exactly the same when all is said and done: there's no change to the power structures, no independence for the other races who choose to come together in the spirit of cooperation like we saw at Tarrey Town -- instead, the four Sages once again swear their support and fealty to the Princess of Hyrule.

Personally? I like a narrative where the characters and the world change over the course of it. That's one of the things that I thought was so meaningful about BotW: while most of the gameplay takes place in the present, the true start of the game is 100 years in the past, allowing us to see how the Calamity affected Hyrule, the devastation it wrought and the continued struggles of those who survived through the century that followed. We end the game with Zelda once more free, where she had been locked in combat with the Calamity; with the spirits of the Champions at peace, where they had been trapped by the Blight within the Divine Beasts; and with Hyrule finally at peace and beginning to recover now that the Calamity has been sealed away. I still think it's ridiculous that they don't actually show any of Link's scars in the game (especially since we are at one point forced to strip to prove that we are who we say we are, and they say point blank I would recognize those scars anywhere when there are no fucking scars), but at least things have changed over the course of the narrative!

But nothing changes in TotK. The status quo remains untouched and unquestioned. And it just feels...bad to me. Insincere, maybe. Unrealistic, sterilized, manufactured. It's a narrative that says there's nothing to question, that everything going back to the way it always was is the right and proper way of things, because clearly the Hyrule Empire is the right and proper rule. And I just don't like that.

[rottendollface]

The Horror of Our Love. Chapter 1.

Co-author: @bigtimesalt8196

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Image: Picsart AI.

Warnings: NSFW; Ajax is older than in canon; broken time line and age line for the sake of plot; female virgin reader, incestuous relationships, family abuse, misogyny, mentions of rape, unprotected sex, black magic, blood and flesh magic, body horror, sacrilegious, Foul Legacy Childe, breeding kink, miscarriage, marriage, grooming, pregnancy, erotic lactation, murdering, abyssal soulmates, serfdom system in Snezhnaya; all the characters are adults; 18+.

Childe remembered his childhood with sadness: the world around him was silent and colorless; his soul, timid and gentle, couldn't find needed endorsement, as no one seemed to care about him and his role in this doomed world either. He was dreaming about adult life: the life where he would be significant and needed like all the adults around him, the life where people would listen to his words and would be interested in his opinion. 

Father held the Bible in his right hand, and all of his kids, except Ajax, who preferred to hold it in his left hand, did the same. Father told that sin couldn't come into their house, and everyone believed it, and routine in Ajax's house was calm and silent under the strict oversight of ikons of Tsaritsa in a shy light of lamp. 

Childe grew up in the village among the boundless sea of snow and sharp icicles, which were hanging from the roofs and trees like lethiferous rocks that were covering the underwater ground. Rural life was simple and boring: the biggest part of the year people were waiting for the short summer to come to get the previous harvest and sow a new one. In Snezhnaya everything did its best to adapt to the hard climate, and Childe still saved in memory how he was helping father in haymaking time, reeking with sweat and feeling how his skin was burning from unusually hot and mighty Sun. After haymaking Ajax's hair became dull and bright, and his body remained tanned until winter came to cover everything with a solicitous blanket of snow, and nature was resting until new summer – again and again in a sacred circle, despite all the worries and tragedies of human life.  

Ajax was too young to experience death: one of newborn brothers died on a second day of his small life – Ajax remembered a dark bundle and a little coffin that looked like a toy boat that he used to play with when he was little; for him it was confusing and seemed like a game: Ajax couldn't understand why the cheerful face of mother became dark, and her eyes seemed to be blind to her other kids. She remained silent for a couple of days, but she didn't stop working – she tried to distract herself from grief with hard work, and her portly strong body was unusually strange for Ajax. The older brothers told him: it wasn't the first time someone of her kids had died, but mother was a very sensitive person. Tears of pity to his mother still were bursting from Ajax's eyes every time he recalled this memory. 

Ajax had to grow up when you were born: all the elder brothers had already left, and he was the next one to take responsibility for his family on his fragile shoulders. He didn't like that his family had to work for some noble: parents worked for days and nights for someone who didn't care to raise salary, and the same faith was waiting for everyone in his family, as all of their breed were peasants. Mother told Ajax to be grateful: the landowner they worked for was a good man who visited the village rarely and stayed at the capital. Their duties weren't hard – he just needed to work and be happy for surviving another day. Ajax liked to take care of cattle and horses, and chop firewoods; his favorite were fishing and salting the part of catch which his family was allowed to keep for themselves – but the fact that some man, who was lucky enough to be born in a different social class, was owning Ajax's whole family made him feel sick. They didn't have to worry about the earth, and nobles were obligated to take care of their peasants, but the law was on noble's side: nobles were allowed to deprive their peasants of property and send them out of the village, nobles could punish their peasants as much as they wanted. There was a way to get out of life like this – and Ajax was determined to end it.

Ajax was confused when father yelled at him and punched him at the back of his head: he told Ajax that it was just a whim, just an eagerness of youthful maximalism and inexperience in life. While father was worried about the money and all the taxes he would have to pay from leaving their master, Ajax was thinking about human dignity and the value of his sisters and brothers as a person, not forced labor. Ajax missed the moment when the relationship between father and him started to worsen, but the awe and respect he once had to his father now were gone, and irritation took their place. 

'Old man knows nothing about life,' Ajax used to tell his older brothers, who lived in the two nearest houses in the same yard. 'Times have changed, but he is too stubborn and stupid to understand this.'

Older brothers, Timofey and Gleb, weren't good people. When the veil of childhood fell off Ajax's eyes he realized the bitter truth: Timofey and Gleb were thinking about heritage only and were splitting the house, cattle, horses and everything that belonged to their parents already without thinking about younger siblings. Timofey wanted to own all the horses and the workshop in which father was making leather. Gleb didn't care about horses; he wanted only the workshop as the most successful business of their family. Both Timofey and Gleb were apprentices, but the father promised to bequeath the workshop to one of them.

They turned out to be ungrateful vultures who were arguing about the heritage almost every dinner with their alive and healthy father sitting right next to them. It was useless to foster them now, so father only looked at both of them with a heavy gaze and kept silent. When the argument turned into a fight, he usually just punched the dinner table, and they calmed down immediately, changing the topic to bring father's wrath on someone else – Ajax was the favorite victim before your birth. Father had a heavy hand and rather rancorous mind. He punished his kids physically in a nasty, painful manner. He remembered all the misbehavior of his kids and waited until the end of the week: on Sunday, right after weekly visit to the local church, he called the names of a guilty one and brought a rod that was moistening in saline for a couple of days. The execution was simple: the guilty sat (or layed – everything for the comfort of his children) on the bench, while father was whipping them mercilessly. For crying and screaming, he added whips; for keeping silent, too. It was impossible to seek leniency and the total amount of whips dependent on father's mood. Once, he was so mad at Ajax, so he broke three rods on his back – and the scars still didn't heal. That's why father was respected in the village, and no one could say a word against his: Ajax's family was the example of perfection, a beautiful wife, and obedient kids who treated elders with honor – the dream of every snezhnayan man and the indicator of a mighty husband.

Everything went wrong when you were born. You brought your mother difficult childbirth and painful labor, an eclipse closed the Moon and put the earth into the darkness the moment after all the households heard your first cry. Mumbling of the old midwife; exhausted, thick body of mother and bowls with reddish water because of bloody towels that were thrown into it offhandedly: the atmosphere of your first birthday was torturing. 

'What are you doing here, huh? Stop hanging around and get lost! Walking here like flies to manure...' Midwife pushed Ajax with her shoulder, walking through the door with one of the basins in her flabby old hands. 'Not a year without your mother bringing another unlucky soul in this world.' 

She gave an unfriendly laugh, and Ajax remembered her cracking dry voice. Ajax heeded and heard the old midwife mumbling to herself. 'I've never seen such an ugly birthmark on a newborn girl before.'

Father was absent; even mother took you in her hands reluctantly, more from obligation than from sincere desire. 

You were growing up just like Ajax – forsaken by everyone and regularly scolded by father. But there was one thing different from his childhood: you weren't allowed to leave the house no matter what. Your parents didn't care about giving you education or socialization, seeing it as an unnecessary option, harmful even. You were naturally talkative and curious, and it was a big problem of yours. Adults were waving you away as you irritated them with endless questions; no one wanted to spare a moment for you, so you played alone with old broken toys that you got from Ajax. 

Ajax's heart ached badly every time he found you alone in the back room of the house (which was used as a storage for newspapers and books), or saw you waving your tiny hand to him through the window when he was working outside. You had nothing else to do but to watch your relatives working in the yard through the frosted window, or sit in the back room and imagine your toy soldier (a poor soldier who lost his hand when he belonged to Ajax, and who's uniform became dull and dirty long ago) reaching the highest peaks of the book mountains to save his princess from a terrible villain. There wasn't enough money in the family to buy you new toys, so Ajax carved out a wooden kitten and gifted it to you. You didn't get presents very often, so you were very happy to get such an ineptly made toy. All the cuts and wounds from thorns healed immediately after Ajax had seen a smile blooming on your face and felt you hugging him. He was the only one who cared about you, and Ajax could tell that he raised you and replaced you both parents. 

You loved him more than any other relatives and had a natural girlish desire to marry your older brother after growing up. It didn't trouble Ajax at all – he played your silly game gladly, never seeing a problem in it. He knew it would end soon, but for now, he kept entertaining you by telling you stories about beautiful brides and true love they had for their grooms.

Ajax felt strange by the fact that he was treated like a beloved son by mother, but you were a stranger to your own family. Maybe because of this you looked different from everyone, and the difference in your appearance was showing clearly with every year: your exceptionally noble features and inborn elegance and grace of moves didn't match the family's dense bodies with broad shoulders and strong limbs. You were such an angelic, precious little creature that Ajax couldn't even imagine you drawing water on your scrawny shoulders or damaging your subtle palms with cleaning and sewing. With every year of your life, you became more dreamy and quiet; youthful charm was slowly taking over children's carelessness. But the one special thing about your behavior had never changed: you had always run to hug Ajax every time he went home.

You didn't attend school, so Ajax taught you to read and count, he gave you his textbooks, and tried to explain everything he had known – he wasn't a disciplined student and his knowledge was rather average, as he was oriented on providing for his family and working as a horseman at noble's lands. Ajax did his best to teach you important moral things: piety, love for your homeland, and many others — but for a rowdy teenager like him, it was an unbearable responsibility. For your own good, you were a fast learner, and soon enough, you had the same level of knowledge as Ajax and didn't need his moral guidance. The back room became your favorite place, and you spent hours here, searching for an interesting book or a newspaper with a catchy title to read and learn something new. 

Your family was shorthanded, and your parents had to let you leave the house to shovel snow, clean up the kennels, and help Ajax on the stable. Guests almost never visited your parents. If they did, they had to notify them and receive permission – and during friendly gatherings you were hiding in your room by order of father. You didn't question such a strange behavior of your parents: you thought it was normal and everyone lived like this.

You had domestic duties like cooking or mopping floors mostly, but sometimes Ajax taught you how to take care of horses. He made you friends with the calmest and the most sociable one – you were afraid of it at first but the way the old horse ate treats from your palm, tickling your skin with its lips, helped you to forget all your fears. The horse's name was Iskorka, and it gladly took you on its back, admitting you as its equestrian. Iskorka and many other horses liked Ajax, as he was a good ostler. They had always had enough hay and treats, and Ajax bathed them carefully, brushed their manes, cleaned and trimmed their hooves regularly. Their stalls had always been cleaned, and not a mess could be found on the stable – that's why horses from your family were popular between villagers and people bought them gladly. It was a strong, hardy, and sociable breed, so they were used both in field work and riding. A true pride of the family. 

Ajax's favorite routine was breaking wild horses: he adored the adrenaline and sense of danger that made his body cover with shivers. Ajax got hurt a lot of times during the process and wasn't afraid of wounds or any critical situation that could happen. Sometimes you were lucky enough to see him in these moments: it was surprising for you to watch your gentle and kind brother acting so powerful and aggressive as the thrill blurred his mind. The act of dominance Ajax was showing against a wild animal didn't match the way he behaved with you, and you didn't want to see him like this. For your childish mind, Ajax was the epitome of a good person, so you refused to see him doing such cruel things because you considered them bad. He explained to you why he had to do this and how much it meant for family's sake, but you didn't understand it – you were overexcited from the new horizons of your existence and your infant senses couldn't focus on such complicated things like family's sake and need.

You were lucky enough not to face your father's punishments: you learned from the experience of others, and during interactions with him, you didn't make any mistakes. Any request of his you completed as best as you could and right in time – it was enough to satisfy him and make him leave you just with a couple of insults (a "wuss" was his favorite one towards you). All your childhood (the biggest part of which you forgot by the time you reached your teenage years) and adolescence you spend as a ghost of your own house: your father remembered about you rarely but when he did, he was watching after you with a heavy pensive gaze that made you walk on your tiptoes and forced you to live somewhere on the background not to burden him. You had never stayed in his presence for too long: it hurt you to realize that he was irritated by you, but you had seen a lot of times how Ajax was punished for no reason, so you preferred to run away while it was safe. Every time you heard the nasty whipping sound of a rod striking the skin and your brother's muffled grunt, you cried silently and waited until the end of the execution to run to your brother's room and help him treat his wounds. 

Mother had never visited Ajax after punishments: she was busy calming Teucer, Anthon, and Tonia from crying, as all three of them were afraid to take Ajax's place. It was strange for you to understand that Ajax and you weren't kids anymore. Your childhood passed by like a disturbing dream: it was fast and unstoppable, and all the warm memories about it were related to Ajax only. He was your knight from fairytales; you trusted him with all your secrets and thoughts. Ajax helped you endure not only confrontations with your family but the feminine hardships of growing up too: when your first menstruation started, your mother had just thrown clean clothes at you and shamed you for being disgusting. She left you crying with no pity, shook your hand off of her dress roughly as you caught her by its hem to stop her and ask for forgiveness – you didn't want to be disgusting and make her angry because of this. Ajax had to explain to you what was happening to your body. Without confusion, with a stern, dry voice, he just stated the fact – now you were a maiden, and soon you would reach marriage age. 

It was hard not to notice that from this moment Ajax stopped treating you like a child. For him you were an adult now – and he took you with respect and counted on you to gain wisdom on how to be a homemaker. Now, it was your turn to prepare food for the family, babysit younger siblings, and provide them with parental care. Ajax didn't accept your help on the stable anymore and didn't let you do man's work that required physical strength. Ajax gave you the warmest clothes and blankets, appealed to you to watch after your health. 

Ajax had taught you that he would always be on your side. He taught you to trust him and never rebel against him – your older brother had known what was best for you, and you agreed with him: he was responsible for you, in Snezhnaya it was an unspoken rule which came from one generation to another without doubts. You asked him for advice numerous times, and he was always right. He was the only man who could touch you, the only one to solve your every problem, the only one to teach you how to be a good woman and wife. He was your support, and he had never demanded a reward from you but you gave him all your love and adoration because he deserved it, you believed. No one could ever compare to him: your older sisters ignored you, Gleb and Timofey hated you. What about Tonia, Teucer and Anthon, for you they were just young cuckoos who pushed Ajax and you out of the nest. You were jealous of them receiving love from mother: your heart ached every time you saw her giving them kisses on their chubby cheeks. Your stomach twisted painfully every time you caught her nursing Teucer or Anthon, and a yearn for mother's warm hands was taking over you. The only feelings you knew for younger siblings were envy and irritation.

They didn't love you back, as everyone else in the house: they got fussy in your presence, every time you tried to calm them down someone of them started crying and calling for mother's attention. It hurt you even more if Ajax came to help you: they enjoyed his presence; especially Teucer, who was Ajax's new favorite youngest sibling. Every time after another failed attempt to babysit Anthon, Teucer and Tonya you got a nice punch at the back of your head from father and plenty of insults as well. A sad sack, idiot, nitwit and many other offenses were spoken out loud by him so everyone could hear your disgrace. Public humiliation of yours was normalized in the family, so everyone could say anything to you without fear of revenge. 

You couldn't fight back. Words were stuck in your throat and you just kept silent every time your family acted unfairly with you. Whenever you started crying from such a rough treatment, you were shamed by mother for overreacting and being dramatic. You craved for her attention, as every child you wanted to be noticed and communicated with, but the forming sense of human dignity didn't let you humiliate yourself by acting needy. You dreamed of her soft hands hugging you gently and pressing you to her thick figure, that smelled like bakery and freshness. But instead, you found yourself in the dusty backrooms of the house, hugged by Ajax, roughly and clumsily: never taught how to properly comfort someone, he was pressing you to his chest as hard as he could, so you could feel how sorry for you he was. His calloused, coarse hands were patting you on your head and wiping tears off of your face. Unlike your mother, Ajax smelled strongly with sweat and his hands had a subtle stench of fish that he was gutting for dinner.

Ajax tried his best to cheer on you. Deep inside his soul he saved the childish sentimentality, so he felt extremely guilty for you and wanted to make up for his siblings' behavior. Ajax promised you that he would take you out of this hell: he wanted to live in the city and vowed to you the sweetest life with happiness and joy. He knew that all his promises were impossible to complete and was left helpless, as he had nothing else to offer you instead. Ajax lost his ardor long ago when he got a taste of an adult life. He realized quickly that he would never make enough money to buy his family out, and humbled himself into being a good peasant, but still he was dreaming of being free, and gave your mind the sweet drug of dreams that would never come true. Ajax wished he wasn't so timid. He wanted life to give him an opportunity to become stronger and braver – and despite all his current beliefs, he felt that something was waiting for him in the future, something hopeful and great…

[oneatlatime]

The Siege of the North Part 2

Last episode of the season! I'll post some season round up stuff over the next few days.

The last episode ended super abruptly, so a refresher: -Aang and Zuko are in a snowstorm and Aang is currently hypnotised by a Yin Yang fish -Katara, Sokka and Yue are in the spirit oasis moping about losing Aang to Zuko -There’s a big fuck off Fire Nation Armada parked out front -All current trends point to the Northern Water Tribe being a finely ground and toasted paste by the end of the day

Episode Time!

I don’t know, did Katara really do everything she could? She could have called for backup. Although given Zuko’s track record with taking out scores of guards when the plot requires (hello Blue Spirit episode), I guess it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.

Ignore Momo for a minute and look at this grass texture. I can't decide if I like it or not. It's certainly doing... something?

Is this the spirit world? I'm loving the colour pallette. Since Aang's dreams tend to be sepia-toned, does that mean he dreams in the spirit world?

This monkey guy has so much personality. I love how our first look at this sacred, spiritual, mystical place is an antisocial jerk. Lovely subversion of expectations.

Roku has unparallelled jumpscare abilities.

I have to say the sound design on the ice cracking under Zuko's feet is spot on. That oddly hollow yet muffled thud is exactly the noise ice sheets make when they go.

Poor Aang getting dragged like a kitten. He's got to have frozen skin by now. Should have taken Iroh's advice and covered his ears.

I don't think Aang moves once during Roku's speech about the spirits crossing over. I think he's a freeze frame of animation, something which this show usually avoids.

Judging by the musical sting it's supposed to be a serious line, but the way Roku feels the need to clarify that the Face Stealer will steal your face got a laugh out of me. Was anyone expecting him to do anything else?

"They call him Coe, the Face Stealer. Be careful, or he will validate your parking."

Where did he get fuel to burn? And why does he feel the need to monologue? And if struggling and fighting is what made you into who you are, maybe you should give being lucky a chance, because you're not exactly well-liked or very good at what you're supposed to be doing.

Inclusivity win! These non-benders get to torch the water tribe too!

Ballistic water canon portholes - that's neat.

Those long range grappling hooks are probably the fire nation's most effective weapon.

Please die please die please die please die please die please die

How rotten do you have to be inside, that when you find a giant underground hidden library, you use it to find out ways to wipe out civilisations? And celestial bodies? Zhao is honestly so pathetic. Ruthless, and somewhat effective sure, but you're gifted a giant underground secret library and all you can think to do with it is use it to kill people? Pathetic.

This spirit world stuff is so neat. The scale, the lighting, the animals, everything is slightly off in a way that feels deeply alien. I like.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

The squealing strings in the spirit world are fantastic. The composition of this shot, also fantastic. The colour pallette; fantastic. I would love to live in the spirit world if I wasn't in danger of losing my face.

The face stealer recognising the avatar is chilling. Really adds a sense of the ancient. And whoever is voicing him had the time of their life. Deliciously evil moustache twirling stuff, but still with an underlying very real threat.

I love Sokka's logic here. Co-opt enemy's strength; make it serve you. Zuko being persistent means that there will still be an avatar to save once Sokka catches up to them.

This whole encounter with the face stealer is a cut above. They really pulled the stops out for this finale.

I don't think this is the Blue Spirit, but it's close.

I KNEW those fish were thematically relevant. What a completely unexpected reversal too! Those spirits you're asking for help? Actually, they're asking you.

It pays to be nice! This is why Aang has to stay such a nice boy! See? It pays off!!!

Looks like someone was a little slow with the whole 'conquering the enemy before their main source of power turbo charges them' thing. We've got floor is lava: tank edition, ice machine guns, and Poophead turning a whole row of soldiers into popsicles. Good stuff.

I absolutely hate Poophead but I have to admit it's satisfying watching him go 1 v dozens in tornado mode and kick fire nation butt.

That panda has some powerful breath. And I love that morphing effect between big cuddly guy and horrors beyond description.

"Oh No! Where's my body?" That's pretty funny. I don't think it's supposed to be, but it is.

Forget about the panda, Aang has powerful breath. He just wallpapered Zuko to the cave wall and travelled like 100 feet in the opposite direction.

Keep inching along buddy.

"That won't be enough to escape" "Appa!" "That probably is."

Forget about Aang wallpapering Zuko, Katara just turned him into a floor mat from 40 feet up. How many concussions has Zuko had in the last week?

If that rope is so quality, why did you cut through every loop rather than untie it and save it for later?

Of course Aang has to bring Zuko back. Aang is a nice little boy. That's what nice little boys do, and they get repaid for their kindness down the line with things like rides from giant pandas.

Imagine if Zhao had grabbed the wrong fish? It's a good thing that the moon spirit has a built in indicator light. What would the ocean do if it was in trouble? Get more blue?

Yue exposition. Yue is a moon horcrux. Oh this won't end well.

How long do you think Zhao spent composing his little speech? How many crumpled up parchments did he go through before he had the words just right? Do you think he practiced in the mirror while holding up a sock in place of the moon fish?

Get his ass Momo! I love how the guard in the back is like "nah, I'll let the lemur do his thing. Dude deserves it honestly."

Could we have some more specific examples of consequences beyond "balance" and "Chaos" for killing the moon? I don't think Zhao the asshole is going to pay attention to consequences unless they directly affect himself.

Zhao is way too fond of the word traitor. That's two people he's called traitor who are actually just people he personally dislikes.

You know you done goofed when kindly tea uncle promises to beat your ass. Zhao, meet consequences that directly affect you.

The face of a man realising he has, in fact, done goofed.

That's twice now these fish have yanked Aang around. Powerful fish. Did the fish call upon the Avatar or was Aang so angry that he went glowy and the fish took advantage?

FISHMAN

oh boy these guys are dead. So dead.

Tired of failing at capturing the Avatar, Zuko instead turns to trying to kill Zhao. Brightest idea he's had all season.

"Then at least, you could have lived!" Bold talk for someone who's already lost one duel to this guy and is currently losing the second. Unless you meant to flop backwards off that bridge?

Ooof. But she was always on borrowed time, wasn't she?

He just batted them away like balls on a pool table. So casually cutting through tonnes of steel and people. Fishman is killing thousands. I bet Aang's not too happy about that.

Ouch. More Sokka trauma!

Fish spirit dropping Aang off like he's bumming a ride to school, not killing probably 10 000 + people.

How am I supposed to take this seriously when Zuko's doing silly little summersaults?

Zhao is such a baby. I sincerely hope he's dead now too.

Bit of an abrupt tonal change. And yes, it's LONG past time you helped out the south. I hope Kanna is informed in exacting detail of her grandaughter's Pakku-bahsing exploits. She'd be so proud.

This scene should have come before the scene with Katara and Poophead. Would have avoided the tone switch. Also is that a tree to the right?

"So proud. And sad." OUCH.

Not-fun fact: there are four humans in this screenshot.

I'm guessing that was the firelord? I suddenly see where Zuko gets his muppet voice.

Mark Hamill?!?!

Final Thoughts

Where is the line between self-sacrifice and suicide? Because I have to say, Yue was very determined to do her duty. I guess that's one way to get out of an arranged marriage.

So glad to not see her fiance again, because then I can pretend he drowned. I bet he and Zhao are having fun out asshole-ing each other at the bottom of the sea.

Sokka!!! Somebody needs to give him a hug and get him into the care of a trusted adult immediately because the last thing he needed was MORE duty-related trauma. I bet he views what happened as him failing in his duty to the northern chief. He pretty much says as much when Yue chooses to save the moon. Obviously, there was rationally no way out of that one, but since when are emotions and trauma rational?

Yue describes her saving the moon as her duty, but it was also her choice, and I bet that's the first free choice she's ever gotten to make. Sokka didn't prevent her; he let her choose to do her duty. He definitely had objections, which he voiced, but he let her go once she brought up duty. It's so awful that Yue's first time having her choice respected (dare I say, having her own agency respected) is when she chooses to die.

She is dead, right? Her body evaporated and she's in the moon now. On the moon? Is she the moon? Did she replace the old moon? Or did the moon let her have a few seconds as a ghost for closure before she went to the afterlife? I don't know the mechanics of this.

Poor Aang just killed thousands of people, even if he was fish-possessed at the time. Katara's about the only person who emerged from this episode ok. She got to one-shot Zuko.

Fish possession-induced mega-fishman is not a solution I could have ever predicted to the problem of a whole fleet that needs getting rid of. It totally fits, despite it being a strange idea to contemplate in isolation. Aang pulls (rather, the fish pulls) a move straight out of Pacific Rim and it works.

The spirit world was really capably done. Creepy yet alluring, seemingly detached and untouchable yet both in tune with the real world and vulnerable to the things that go on there. And how clever was it to have Aang go to the spirits for help, only to find out that the spirits need his help? I love that reversal. It really ups the stakes. In any other fantasy story an appeal to the council of higher beings of whatever would either result in help or a refusal. Imagine calling up your godly bosses with a problem only to have them beg you for help? It's kind of chilling. Both in how close things came to disaster, and in the fact that humans in the real world actually have the power to pose that much of a threat to the spirits. Again you see why it's important to have a bridge between the real and spirit worlds: because traffic either way poses a threat to both sides.

What is up with Zuko? He failed the whole season at capturing the avatar (a task at which he was outclassed by episode 3), and now he doesn't have the resources to even try. So he's no longer a villain (not the he was ever good at it), he's no longer even a threat. He's a concussed vulture's meal on a raft. Is he even going to be in the next season of the show? What role could he possibly fulfill? He'll be just... there.

I had tone problems with this episode. A couple of places where I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to laugh, I did. And there were a couple of pretty corny set up lines. Yue discussing how there was no hope gave me Helm's Deep flashbacks. I think maybe this episode should have been a little longer in order to make the tone switches more gradual. And I get that, as a kids' cartoon show, they have to end the season on a happy note, but was there anyone in the main or background cast that didn't have a reason to end this episode seriously bummed out? Momo maybe. Appa's empathetic enough to be sad that Aang is sad. Yes, the North is saved, but the princess is dead, there are presumably thousands of enemy corpses bobbing around beyond the wall, and who knows how many water tribe people got crushed by fireballs.

The last three episodes have really been one big story. Katara's part was really over by the opening scene of the siege of the north part 1, which is about where Aang's part began. The real through line that ties these three episodes together is Sokka and Yue. These last three episodes have been low key Sokka episodes (and Yue episodes by extension). I think it's a sign of good writing and engaging characters, that the season finale of a show named after its main character can put a huge amount of focus on someone who isn't the main character and still have it feel natural.

Turn Sokka into a girl and beat him down with the expectations women face in a patriarchal society, and you get Yue. They are each others' mirrors, which is partially why they connect (the other reasons being Sokka is a breath of fun fresh air and Yue is gorgeous and desperately lonely). While I would give an arm and a leg for a version of the show where Yue joins the Gaang and travels around the world with them, being exposed to opportunities for growth and adventure and becoming her own person rather than an extension of her tribe's will, I think it also makes sense that Sokka and Yue ultimately can't be together. I'm having trouble putting this into words, so bear with me, but I think because Yue and Sokka are mirrors, and largely mirrors of the more burdensome aspects of their lives (ie duty), then wouldn't them getting together limit them? Halt their growth as characters? Would they not drag each other down? Under the right circumstances (like peace) they could help each other grow, but in war time it's probably not a good idea to have two self-sacrificing members on your team.

I know Aang had some crazy stuff happen to him this episode (and last episode too), but so much of what happened to him literally happened TO him. He had no say in the matter. He got yanked around by spirits, fish, and Zuko. Which is why the Sokka x Yue storyline was more interesting to me. Poor Aang may have a hell of a time processing all that yanking around, but that's not in this episode. Sokka and Yue actively making choices are in this episode, and their storyline has had three episodes to develop, so the payoff feels more earned.

The soundtrack was great this episode, especially in the spirit world. Deliciously creepy stuff.

Visuals were gorgeous. I especially liked the beige palete of the spirit world and grey-blue palette during the mega fishman scenes. The creeping blue veins were a good way to express the scale of mega fishman's power without just colouring the whole frame bright blue.

Zhao honestly got exactly what he deserved. It must have been a fitting end for his character because it left me highly satisfied.

Yue deserved better, but if the chief is to be believed, predestination is both a thing and unavoidable in this world, so she got the only end she could ever have. I love characters with quiet strength, but I love them more when they don't have to die.

Overall a good episode! It had to wrap up so many storylines that it ended up going all over the place, with some necessarily expository dialogue that felt clunky. Poor Aang featured surprisingly little in his own show's finale, if you discount when he's fish-possessed. Sokka got his heart ripped out and stomped on, as did the chief. Pakku has hopefully set himself up for a hearty slap from Kanna. Zuko and Iroh survived, but that's about all that can be said of them at the moment. I feel like maybe Katara will be carrying the Gaang for the next few weeks.

[lalalian]

i don’t remember if you said you’d elaborate on this or not, but can we get some more information on eudora’s government system?

HI SO I FORGOT TO POST THIS 😭😭😭 I looked over this and I’m pretty sure it’s bc of the grammar mistakes.. I went through it again to edit them out!

Again I’m rlly sorry I didn’t upload this sooner 😭😭

(Hello hello, I’ve edited some of the names back to what they were originally in my brainstorming document, the names were changed in this post *in it’s first form* because I couldn’t find the info abt this part of the gov in my brainstorming document, I completely forgot that I included them in the filled script! Names should now line up with the quote in my filled script… sorry about that yall!)

hihi!

I don't know if I did or not either, but I'm happy to do so!

Eudora has a unique government in comparison to other kingdoms and empires. Why? It’s because Eudora has a three-court system (sound familiar?) rather than a monarchy. Why choose this court system over a monarchy? Well, the monarch would literally have to make the final say on everything in a monarchy. This would be completely unreasonable for an Empire as large as Eudora.

Not only that, but Eudora shifted to this system due to three founding values, fairness, transparency, and strength.

Fairness

Similar to our government, Eudora's three court system foundation represents the virtues of the people. You may have seen that there's a noble etiquette class, but isn't the existence of nobles the definition of unfair...? Nobles were perceived differently than other kingdoms and empires; the traditional sentiment was that nobles were there to serve the common people. Everybody has a role, and everyone's role is important. Nobles could not function if the lower class refused to work. Nobles received a lot of money because ruling over land isn’t necessarily a simple task; a duke would have to be meticulously trained to be able to manage their land to avoid mistakes. Mistakes with this kind of job can lead to devastating tragedies.

In the present day, many nobles strive to embody this ideology, but do they really believe in such sentiments? Or do they want to appear as if they do?

I did mention that dragon riders are sacred, right? Well, only higher-tiered riders are. Even S-ranked riders born non-noble are often disrespected in newspapers and balls.

Transparency

Eudora has faced many issues with transparency. Former monarchs ordered for many of the Empire's major libraries to be burned to the ground simply for slander or even criticism of innocuous ideologies that contrasted with their own; another monarch encouraged the high nobles to hide the ingredients to the antidote of a fatal disease from the poor during a plague… I'm sure you'd know the aftermath of that kind of bullshit...; one of the earliest monarchs lied about the nature of magic to benefit from the power of the poor (similar to the book A Court so Cruel and Lovely).

All of these events led to a strong desire for transparency between the government and its civilians.

How was this quality implemented? Way more people are involved in court; having so many people in the government means more mouths, and there's bound to be at least one person with loose lips. These political gatherings are oftentimes (not always) public. Journalists often attend these meetings (anyone can attend).

In the last few decades, the western border has been relentlessly attacked by creatures no one's ever seen before. The government has been investigating this dilemma for quite a while now, but not a single detail has ever really been revealed to the public. Are the courts still upholding this virtue?

Strength

A large population comes with an increased chance of having dragon riders born in the empire. Dragon riders are an extremely valuable asset-- more dragon riders usually always make an army stronger. Over the years, Eudora cultivated the most prestigious dragon rider academies. This is where the fairness quality comes in (once again). Eudora passed a law around 40 years ago that allowed for riders from other kingdoms and empires to attend their rider academies if they had a scholarship. There are two ways of obtaining a scholarship, one is to be rich and buy one, and the other is to pass a series of trials. This is also why parents are desperate to have their children learn how to fight in some kind of way early on in childhood.

Riders have become the symbol of strength, and an abundance of riders comes with the value of power. With the continuous attacks degrading the Western Front, is power still going to be associated with Eudora in the future?

Now that we've gotten the probably really unnecessary values of the government system and its hypocrisy aside, let's get into the more interesting parts. The Courts.

The Court of Scales

The Court of Scales, also known as the Court of the Blindfolded, is Eudora's justice court. The Court of Scales can be broken down further into two types of courts, the Court of Crimson and the Court of Amaranth. A Crimson Court hears criminal cases and an Amaranth Court hears civil cases; there are plenty of these courts scattered around the empire. You can apply for your case to be re-heard once to a different court, but it needs to be approved for a second hearing beforehand. The Court of Scales acts as the Supreme Court, except more precautions are made. You affirm to the High Justice (the judge hearing the trial) and Themis, an artifact in the shape of a woman wearing a blindfold and holding a scale, that you will only speak the truth.

This artifact has the power to tell whether someone is lying or not and is usually used to verify if a witness is lying. If they do lie, the scale closest to the person tips down, symbolizing the heavy weight of a lie.

(Does that make sense...? If a person situated to the right of the room lies, the right side of the scale tips down.

Breaking the oath results reduces the validity of the witness's statement, but the trial still goes on. Sometimes, the judge will decide to hide the statue, but there will be a person that supervises the statue the entire time to document any lies.

The Court of the Olive Branch

Known as the Court of Pillars in the northern regions of Eudora.

The High Sovereign and the ruling family are apart of this court. The High Sovereign is a hereditary position. Similar to a king, the current High Sovereign chooses who will become the next High Sovereign. The heir to the throne is almost always direct offspring.

The High Sovereign has the right to declare war (needs to be approved by the Court of the Olive Branch beforehand), attends ceremonial events, appoints the head of other courts (including the court of thorns, I’ll talk about this court in another post), and is part of the consul. Should the High Sovereign die, if an heir hasn’t been officially chosen, the next oldest sibling of the High Sovereign will assume the throne.

The Court of the Quill

Law making court, it’s also known as the Court of the Public in the northern regions of Eudora.

All dukes are apart of this court.

This court is mostly public, but all consul meetings are private. Consul meetings only consist of all the dukes in the Eudora Empire. They make their most important decisions in the Room of Consuls, and are (likewise) referred to as consuls. Why the room-specific title change? The idea is to take the power away from the dukes, and to decide on things without the pressure of each other’s titles. Despite the fact that everyone is supposed to be on the same playing field in this room, there’s still that power struggle between every consul member, including the High Sovereign (who is essentially the ‘president’). But aren’t most of the members dukes? Yeah, they are. But dukes with more land or more wealth tend to hold more power. Disputes between other consuls can lead to inner turmoil within the empire, including refusing trade with each other and even war. There is always an odd number of consuls; if another kingdom joins the Empire, they’d have to split their land in half. Two dukes would join as a result of the spilt, keeping the number of members odd.

The member count is always odd to make in-voting easier.

Consul only meetings are always private, but meetings with other people including consuls are often public.

Each ducal household tends to uphold a way of thinking, creating two ‘parties’. I wouldn’t really say they’re parties honestly, but it’s similar. In Eudora, these two sides are called factions.

One side is prefers to uphold the empire’s founding values. This side is referred to as The Traditionalists.

The other wants to veer away from it. This side is referred to as The Radicals.

It’s important to note that the members in each faction do not all support the same principles, but they do tend to have a similar central value.

For example, Miaene’s father is apart of this court. He is part of the Traditionalist faction.

More on this in another ask abt government!