#and every time someone says something. demands him to understand; tells him THIS IS WAR; its another little reminder. a twist to the knife

[many-gay-magpies]

thing in doctor who that absolutely destroys me: whenever some character is talking about a war or losing a loved one and says something to the doctor along the lines of "how could YOU understand?" or "you'd never understand, doctor" and then it flips to a shot of the doctor just looking so. sad and knowing. rips me apart every time it's just excellent

[monstersighing]

Hello! I sAw your intro and was intrigued. I have a request,- you don't have to if its too much-

imagine AFAB reader who is a devotee to this Eldritch being, seeing them as a deity or a God. As the world grew more modern/OR there's a great war. SOMETHING that lead the other devotees to not believe in this being anymore, bUt ofcouRse, our reader are devoted n loyal to the being, iN which the being will RewaRd the reader

You could get creative with this! I imagine when the reader prays, the Eldritch will speak to them telepathically, (whether to ask for a sacrafice- oR other *orDers~*) SO, reader has a voice kink ;). And soMe other stuff too- like corruption, tentacles, anal, cunnilingus, edging, and over stim pleasee-! (if its too much I understand-)

Bonus if our devotee reader was rlly innocent before hand :)

Thank You!! ~ 💫

Eldritch Being/Deity x AFAB Reader

Title: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

NSFW, 18+, MDNI

Content: dubious consent, religious kink, corruption, tentacles, voice kink, praise kink, edging, overstim, mindfuck, double penetration (v and a), cunnilingus.

Notes: Thank you for the idea shooting star anon. This is probably the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it.

Constructive feedback from readers is appreciated.

+++

Your God is one of secrets, veiled and hidden, his mysteries not fully known to you.

+++

When the army approaches, the convent Mother hands you a leather-bound book and tells you to run, as far and as fast as you can.

You stop after the sun begins to set. When you look back, you can see a thick plume of smoke rising in the air, above where the convent should be.

You find yourself alone for the first time in your life. All the temples to your God that you pass are ransacked and burned with no worshippers left.

When you pray, there is no answer. But you keep your faith.

You head east because that is where your God first revealed himself. You keep away from the towns, frightened of the men that gather in the streets with their loud voices and assessing eyes. You are innocent. You know what they would do to someone like you if you were found out.

The next evening, you page through the book that was given to you. Between prayers and invocations for your god it is illustrated: a penis twined in a feeler, spitting pearly beads of come from its fat head, breasts gripped by tentacles, men and women drawn with every hole stuffed, heads flung back in ecstasy.

You feel your crotch grow more sensitive and liquid with each page. You lie on your back and your hands roam under your clothes to pluck your nipples, then glide down your stomach to scratch at your thighs. When you can resist no longer, you open your thighs wide and rub two fingers across your soaking slit and push them inside.

You’re bucking against your fingers, almost at your climax, when you hear a voice.

Stop.

You freeze. There you are my little servant, the voice says, pleased.

After that each time you stop to rest and before you sleep your God is there telling you to touch yourself for him. You feel his presence as you push your fingers into your mouth to suck on and then rub at your clit. You chase your pleasure and each time your Lord tells you to stop, you do. Even when your body is shaking from the need to come. Your needy cunt throbs as you make your way to the place you will finally meet him.

You had been kept pure in the convent, awaiting the ritual that would make you your Lord’s bride. But when he demands you debase yourself you follow his command. He tells you where to go, and in these places, there is always someone willing to take your body and use it.

You will offer up your pain and your pleasure to me, your God says, and I will grow strong again.

You kneel in a stable, a cock pushed in your mouth then down your throat until tears leak from your eyes. At an inn, a man spanks you so hard that when you bounce in his lap after, the fingers digging into your ass leave you gasping. In front of a campfire, two men fill your mouth and cunt with their cocks so the movement of one pushes you deeper onto the other; after, a third man slides into your dripping cunt and his thrusts buckle your arms into the dirt. He pulls out to come and stripes your back with his spunk.

Each time, you climax to the rumble of your Lord’s approval in your head and his name on your tongue. The bruises on your knees, the ruined rasp of your voice, the spilt seed dirtying your flesh. All are marks of your devotion to him.

His voice becomes more powerful, a constant buzz filling your head that makes you shake and tremble.

+++

The temple you find is abandoned. But the altar is still there, surrounded by burnt-out candles.

A cloth-covered statue stands in front of the altar. You remove it, fold down to your knees and gaze at your God. The statue is the green of old copper. A shrouded face devoid of detail except for six eyes made of ruby. Numerous tentacles spill forth from under a mantle. You imagine those tendrils tight on your tender flesh.

You strip yourself bare and read the prayer to invoke your God. The cool air of the temple brings goosebumps to your skin, and you shiver. The anticipation of his arrival makes you wet. You clench your thighs around nothing, aching to be filled.

You know he has arrived by the scent that appears, like the air before the storm.

My most devoted one, he says.

The words warm you, but you are afraid to turn. You keep your eyes on the statue and reply, “My Lord”.

His tendrils slide across your arms and pull them behind your back. Your thighs are forced apart. A sticky tentacle pries its way into your mouth and holds down your tongue. Two more slide up your thighs where they rub in an alternating rhythm across your slit, sliding but not pressing in.

The first tentacle pushes in and seems to grow fatter. The stretch burns. The other rubs against your clit hard and insistent, and you whimper. Your hips twitch, wanting more. You feel your Lord touch the edges of your mind, and then push deeper, into your memories, even as the tentacle pushes deeper into your hole.

You are pressed to the stone floor of the temple as the length of the tentacle inside you rams in and out of your cunt with a squelching sound. The one in your mouth twines with your tongue and pulls. You feel the chilled stone floor against your cheek but also –

-- your hair being pulled as your face is fucked and –-

-- your already red and puffy nipples being bitten and --

-- come spattering over your face as you grind your hips back on another man’s cock and --

-- you feel your orgasm seize your body whole and --

Time stops, and you are held on the precipice of your orgasm.

You have made yourself my perfect servant, and you will reap the rewards.

And your orgasm crashes down and your God says, Now we begin.

Tentacles lift you and you are splayed on your back over the altar, your legs held wide. Your hands are released, and your God looms over you. You cannot see his face, only the suggestion of many eyes that makes you dizzy to look at. Your God dips his head, and a ridged tongue appears from under his hood. It rasps over your nipples making you squirm and then trails down to your stomach where it stops.

Hold yourself open for me.

You pull your cunt lips wide for his inspection. You see yourself then, through your lord’s eyes – your chest heaving, and your hole stretched ready to be fucked into - and feel his hunger.

So delicate, he says. So desperate.

His tongue laps against you, the irregular surface causing shocks of pleasure when it flicks over your clit. It wriggles inside you, torturously slow until you are filled to the brim. When his tongue begins to move your hands drop to the cool stone of the dais and you scrabble uselessly for purchase.

You cry out with loss when the tongue is removed, and then again with delight when he sheaths himself in your cunt with the thick tentacle that juts out of his mantle where a man’s cock would be. Two smaller tentacles spread your cheeks and drip fluid across your asshole, circling and pushing in you in a sinuous glide. Your body is full to bursting, and it trembles, overstimulated. The exquisite ache builds and when you climax again, it rips through you with every muscle tensing and then relaxing.

Your now limp body is buffeted by the three tentacles’ increasingly punishing thrusts, and you hear a loud “uhuhuhuh” echoing off the walls of the temple. Your foggy mind realizes that the noise is coming from you.

The tentacles press deep with a final hard grind and fluid spurts from them. The liquid fills your cunt and asshole. The two tenacles in your ass slip out, and you feel the fluid leak out of you and drip onto the floor.

A feeler plucks the hood from your God’s head. Another holds your face so you cannot look away.

You see your God’s face.

It is beautiful.

It is terrifying.

Looking into your Lord God’s many eyes, the most afraid and most joyful you have ever been, you think that this is what you were made for. To service your God in any way he sees fit.

You feel his approval clamour through your body. You come again clenching on the tentacle still spearing your cunt, and shake apart.

Then, all is dark.

+++

After, you crawl down from the altar and stand on legs that are as wobbly as a newborn colt. And it does feel like you have just been born, changed into something new.

Your God wraps you in a robe of silk, embroidered with a coiling design you remember from the convent. Draped in it, you walk out of the abandoned temple with your Lord God’s fluids still leaking out of you.

There is no fear left in you. You know what you must do: go and create new converts in any and every way your Lord asks.

[bunnyshideawayy]

a rumored bastard and a proven, disinherited, legally illegitimate recognized bastard are not the same.

Rhaenyra’s sons are rumored bastards, i know the show has a lot of team green stans feeling bold but just as in the books, they are never legally considered bastards in the show either. they are speculated to be via their physical features and Laenor’s apparent sexuality, but since Laenor and the KING (btw Westeros is a absolute monarchy, meaning the king IS law) both claim all three boys as legitimate heirs, unless someone demands a medieval dna test, those kids are legally Laenor’s true sons.

this is apparently a very hard concept to understand for some, hell even Alicent in the show says something like “we can all tell” which fair point, but that is not proof enough. looks, accusations, and rumor are not the same as actual proof of adultery or bastardy.

someone i was having a “discussion” with used Joffrey as an example to point out a flaw in my logic, but ultimately proved my point. Joffrey was a rumored bastard. Ned himself had no more proof than Alicent does, just hair color and a hunch, so Joffrey was never legally disinherited from the line of succession. I hate to defend either of these men but King Robert never publicly disowned him and called him bastard, which is why Joffrey ascended to the Iron Throne. now the rumors did hurt, and caused huge political issues leading to the War of 5 Kings, which is exactly why Alicent and Team Green is so insistent that Rhaenyra’s children are illegitimate, they know they cannot legally or physically prove her children are bastards, especially when Laenor and the King are claiming them are true born, but they can spread the rumor and call into question Rhaenyra’s honesty and morality. think episode 8 when team green takes their chance with Vaemond to attempt a coup of sorts for the Driftmark Throne, why would the succession of Driftmark need to be settled if Rhaenyra’s sons are true born? why would Alicent / Otto need to make this decision in place of the sick king and mia lord of tides who both had already been stating Luke would inherit for years. it’s all apart of the scheme to tarnish Rhaenyra’s reputation as Vaemond has no other proof either, and promptly loses his head (both metaphorically and literally) by calling the recognized heir to the throne a whore and her children bastards with no proof in front of the whole court.

it is a political scheme on both sides, Alicent cannot prove anything, and Rhaenyra cannot disprove the rumors no matter how many times they are claimed as true born sons. Rhaenyra has to live in the comfort the law gives her, as legally her sons are seen as legitimate, and thus legally they are protected. and from an unbiased pov with both in universe and historical references, those kids might be bastards in actually but not legally.

Rhaenyra goes through hell to keep her children legally protected, not only for their sake but for hers because should the truth come out both her and Laenor would be seriously punished, i wouldn’t go as far as executed but that would depend on if Viserys was old and bed ridden or dead. which is why im making this incredibly long post repeating myself in every point. you can argue all day about Rhaenyra’s children and their parentage but i am making this to make it clear that her children are not *legally* bastards by Westeros law. in order for Jace, Luke, and Joffrey to be illegitimate bastards Laenor, Rhaenyra, Harwin, and/or Viserys would have to publicly acknowledge them as such and disinherit them. no, Laenor and Viserys dying do not magically make Rhaenyra’s children legal bastards either. they would, again, need to be claimed and proven as such and disinherited.

and at the end of it all, true or not true, the rumors made a lasting impact on the story. so much so this fandom is still debating this topic, and frankly i am dreading the season 2 release when all the bad takes and bad faith arguments start up again.

anyway other famous rumored bastards are in Targ history are:

Maegor

Daeron II

[buckyalpine]

Do I already have an ask with you? I don't care lol I have a good one...

You and bucky are insatiable for each other, that's not to say you don't have your soft moments because you do. You're the only one who truly understands him, aside from Steve. But there are things he's shared with you that he could never burden Steve with... I mean, he's the one who always protected him and he got really good at masking his emotions and putting up a strong front even before the war. Anywho, you don't know what's gotten into you two, maybe it's the summer heat, or perhaps that time of the month is nearing, either way, extra insatiable. You're on each other almost every hour of the day... Waking him with soft kisses as you ride him slowly before his morning, cornering him in the shower after his morning run. I did mention he's just as insatiable, pulling you into the nearest room after the morning briefing (Sorry Nat), boxing you in his arms in the deep end of the pool during your afternoon swim..it's like the possibility of being caught adds to the need for each other's bodies... I mean the team is eyeing each other as he not so secretly grinds against your backside while ordering drinks at Tonys party, and later pulls you into his lap where you not so discretely grind against him and he kisses your shoulder and neck, until finally someone makes a comment and Bucky pulls you to the bathroom for a quicky, but you need more and you're dragging him straight to you room after. Of course that earns another comment form tony ahah

18+

Hell yes to all of this. Look, I wanted to start this off with the trope of a wholesome cute slow build up where they share meaningful moments and then gradually grow closer before going at it like rabbits. Like they build a solid friendship first and after some slow burn, they end up falling in love.

BUT.

What if instead, it doesn't start off with so much soft wholesomeness. It starts off spicy. Steve is many things to Bucky, takes care of him from day one but one thing Steve can't help with is how touch starved Bucky is.

Bucky can't even bring himself to tell anyone how badly he needs to be touched and it does not fucking help that he's insanely attracted to one of his teammates, with only his right hand to bring him some relief. The biggest issue is Bucky typically retches at physical touch; he didn't even like people in his personal space. Then he saw you. Suddenly, a deep need he had buried away for years grew stronger than ever.

His relationship with you is fine, he's comfortable with you. One thing that always catches him off guard is how easy it is to talk to you; you're so open and understanding. Again. It does not help that he finds you fucking gorgeous. (He’s also awful at taking hints, so he doesn’t realize you’re just as attracted to him)

After a late night workout, he decides to join you while your stretching out on the mat and the topic of conversation moves onto something a little more...interesting. Bucky is laughing along with you while you tell him a story about online dating aps.

"Wasn't like this in the 40's" Bucky shakes his head, thinking about how he wouldn’t have dared to demand sex at the end of a date, under any circumstance. 

"Hmm, how different is it from then to now from your perspective, like sex and dating"

"Based on what I've heard, people are a lot more open about it, things are way more casual now”

You nodded while continuing to stretch, hardly realizing Bucky was internally fighting with himself not to stare at you. 

"Do you have any preferences? Anything you like now or then?” 

Bucky fidgeted with his fingers, now not meeting your eyes for a different reason. 

"Back then was nice, went on a few dates, took girls dancing mostly..”

“What about now?”

“Oh, I-um- never...dated...in this century?

Bucky blinked at you like a lost puppy, he hadn’t been on a single date since he was free from being the winter soldier. You blinked right back, unable to understand how he, of all people, had gone this long without dating fucking. You understood that he probably had boundaries and trust issues but still him...

"You've...so you've never been with anyone since?"

Bucky shook his head, a deep blush covering his cheeks, his breath hitching when you sat closer to him. 

“Is-is that something you’re okay with?” Your voice was a whisper, your heart beating faster when Bucky slowly shook his head, his eyes now locked with yours. 

“I-I need...”

"Tell me what you need"

"Need to be touched..."

"Show me where"

He took your hand, guiding it down to his aching boner, nearly whimpering when he felt your hand grasp him.

"H-here"

You bit back a moan, feeling his cock throb. Bucky’s body moved on its own, tugging his shorts down just enough to free his cock. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, slowly stroking him while his head was thrown back, a long satisfied moan slipping from his lips. 

"Tell me what you need baby"

“Everything”

****

After that, you were both insatiable for each other. Fucking everywhere, on every surface possible. But there was also something else brewing there. After sex, he's so soft and vulnerable, snuggling and nuzzling into you while clinging onto your body. You explain what after care is to him and ask him what he enjoys; he loves when you play with his hair and he loves when your hands graze his back. He’s too shy to openly say it but naked cuddles with you are his absolute favorite. In these moments, he opens up about anything and everything. Thing's even Steve doesn't know about. He tells you about his nightmares; you've even comforted him through a few of them when you both end up falling asleep.

Mornings are spent wrapped in each others warmth; sometimes you wake him gently with soft kisses, riding him, telling him how beautiful he looks, how perfect he fills you up. Other times he’s on top of you, his hips grinding against you, not chasing orgasms; no. he doesn’t want to leave your warmth any time soon and you don’t want to be away from him either, soft moans and locked eyes, edging each other until neither of you can hold back any longer. 

It didn’t matter that this new routine also made you both late for morning briefings. You couldn’t keep your hands off him and he couldn’t keep his hands off you. 

Whenever Bucky sees you, his lips are on you, hand up your shirt, stroking the soft skin of your waist. You’re both always looking over your shoulder to make sure no one sees you, but it only adds to how badly you want each other. 

After a run

He closes his eyes, letting the hot water relax his muscles after his morning run, smirking when he hears the click of his bedroom door. You saunter into his bathroom, stripping your clothes off and pulling the curtain back, your eyes shamelessly raking up and down his naked body. 

“Hi Sergeant” You step into the shower, backing him against the tiled wall, your body pressed on his. 

“Breaking into my room now, huh?” He smirked, his arms snaking around to grab the backs of your thighs, lifting you so your legs wrap around his waist. You gasp when he turns around, slamming you against the wall, his cock pressed against your needy pussy. “Naughty slut” 

“James...”

“Shhh” Bucky nips your earlobe before shoving his cock into you in a single stroke, not giving you any adjustment time, his hips snapping against your ass. Cardio round 2.   

Morning Briefings 

Yes hes a trained assassin but he’s struggling with his focus, his mind thinking about how pretty you’d look naked, bent over that table, screaming for him, or if he had you pressed up against the ceiling high windows, for all of New York to see how well you took his thick fat co-

“Barnes!” 

Bucky blinked, feeling an eraser bounce of his head while Tony shook his head, repeating that he’d be paired with you for an up coming mission while Steve would be paired with Nat. He just nods yes to everything, hoping to get this meeting over with so he can have you. 

“Alright, dismissed, unless you have any-

“Nope” Bucky shot out of his seat, grabbing you by the arm and heading off to the nearest office room. “Let talk about the mission y/n” The rest of the team stared at each other before shrugging, Bucky never cared about going over mission details before but stranger things had happened. 

“Really Barnes? You want to talk about the mission?” You sass, while Bucky bites his lip, locking the door and bending you over the large wooden desk. 

“I actually do” He smirked, throwing the file onto the table before hiking your skirt up and bringing your panties down. You hear him unbuckle his pants, gasping as soon as you feel the blunt tip of his cock nudge against your soaked entrance. “You’re gonna read the mission details doll” You moan loudly as he plunges into you, your hips bouncing against the table, his cock rubbing against your cervix “Every. Single. Detail” 

While your swimming 

You gasped, feeling two strong arms come up from behind you, pushing you against the tiled wall of the pool. 

“Dragă....” 

He was insatiable, having watched you long enough in your tiny bathing suit, swimming laps, making his cock unnecessarily hard. You knew by the name he called you, he was desperate for you, his cock straining in his shorts. Your breath shuddered as Bucky caged you between his arms, water droplets clinging off his shoulders, lips brushing against yours. 

“Someone might see us James” You whispered, your legs floating up to wrap around his waist, your hands resting on his chest. 

“Then let them see” He licked your neck, sucking little bruises along your collar bone, his boner pressed right against you, “Let them see how you scream for me, prinţesă, all the pretty noises you make for me” 

He pulls the strings of your bathing suit off, groaning at your naked body under the water. 

“Hmm, much better” 

Tony’s Party 

You sipped on your drink at the bar while the team placed their orders, smirking when you feel him come up behind you, his hands coming to rest on your waist.  You teasingly brush your ass onto him but he wastes no time pushing himself right back on you, practically grinding himself on you. 

“You look pretty baby” He whispered by your ear, his hips still moving against you, one hand gripping onto your waist while he grabs his drink from the bartender. You squeak when he grips you more firmly to come and sit with him, his hand resting on your hip, easily pulling you into his lap once you both get to the lounge area. 

“Hi” You feel your skin heat up, sitting this closely to him, the scent of his cologne making it hard for you to focus on anything else happening around you. His hand ghosts over your waist, resting on the side of your thigh, tracing shapes along your skin. 

“Hi” He bites back a smirk, adjusting himself, making your eyes widen when you feel...something...

“Bucky, there’s something-

He pulls you even closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, holding your hips to keep you from squirming on his lap. 

“Shhh, that’s all me prinţesă” 

Your stomach flips, feeling his hard length pressing further against you, A wicked idea flashes through your mind, letting your hips grind on him, innocently vibing to the music. You giggle to yourself when you feel his cock throb, gasping when he holds you still again, giving your neck the slightest nip. 

“Keep that up baby, might just have to take you right here, right now” 

You smiled, taking it as a challenge, grinding on him a little harder, giggling when you heard a growl from his chest. Meanwhile, the team all side eyed each other, watching Bucky’s composure fall apart, his lips kissing your neck, hands gripping your waist, cheeks flushed, while you sipped your drink, the both of you in your own world. 

“Keep that up y/n, and you’re gonna make terminator blow a gasket” Tony snorted, his eyes growing wide when you shifted off his Bucky’s lap slightly, his cock straining against his pants “Jesus Christ Barnes, you should come with a warning label” 

“Fuck this” Bucky groaned, lifting you off, ready to drag you to the bathroom for a quicky because at this point his cock was leaking and throbbing and he was sure he was going to cum in his pants. 

“Where you guys going, huh?” Sam cackled, watching the flustered super soldier desperately cling onto you. 

“Bathroom...” Bucky’s eyes were only focused on you, his hand around your wrist, he would have taken you on the floor right then and there if possible. 

“You both need to go to the bathroom?” Nat cocked an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes at you both. 

“Need my girl” Bucky shrugged, but before he could take you, you stopped him. 

“Nuh uh” You shook your head, grabbing him by his dog tags, pulling him in the direction of the elevators to go upstairs instead. “My room Barnes” 

“Your girl, huh?” Sam wiggled his eye brows as the team grinned, watching you both. You yelped when Bucky tossed you over his shoulder, spanking you before entering the elevator.

“Yeah, my girl” 

“I’m your girl now?” you giggled, while he kissed the side of your ass, still keeping you over his shoulder. 

“Always baby” 

“DON’T HURT YOURSELF Y/N, HE’S BUILT LIKE A HORSE”  

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[whinlatter]

beasts | from the postbag 🦉

it is a source of great delight, great gratitude and great guilt that i have an inbox full of juicy questions i haven't answered. reckon it's about time i got around to answering some of them! this is a bumper post with lots to answer and plenty to rummage around in, so if you have sent me a question i hope you will find it answered in here! (if i haven't replied, please know that i have treasured/been tickled by every one and will never not be pleased as punch that people reach out to say hi and chat about stuff i put out into the world). alright. to business!

it’s a fair question anon, and the answer is at least partly as you suggest: neville and seamus are loyal to ginny (dean, ofc, wasn’t there). in c.12 harry talks about having spoken with neville about it, and though he tells ginny about it, he also reassures her neville didn’t spill her secrets - harry doesn’t like people talking about him behind his back, and he’s right to assume ginny wouldn’t either. (i mean, i also think waiting for someone to be ready to talk about something is a basic mark of respect for a loved one - and learning to be patient and not demanding information from people is a skill a certain mr potter could do with learning). but, as i hope c.14 gestured towards and as the flashback chapters will unpack, ginny also had a very specific war that was particular to her and who she was vis-à-vis harry and the order. neville and (to a lesser extent) seamus know some of it, but they don’t know the whole picture. hope this helps!

i live to gag! (thank u anon!) 

i played with writing ginny having different emotional reactions in the final scene of c.14, but in the end decided i liked having her quiet, resigned to it, like she knew this was coming (they’ll all know soon, as she tells herself throughout this chapter). for someone who is often kicking off and raging at people bearing bad news, it’s a lot of fun to write ginny as someone with the wind knocked out from her every now and then. 

i won’t spoil this one, anon, but i will say that i think ginny understands harry, his good intentions, and the reasons for his blindspots. they’ve got chats to have for sure. but will she be throwing hands imminently? i would not bet on it. 

it was little women! the same book hermione's reading in chapter 3. the granger girlies love a classic. they prefer the winona ryder adaptation but hermione takes the family to see the greta gerwig version and bawls and ron has to mop her up in the richmond everyman cinema.

to these lovely anons and the others i am keeping close to my chest - i am reaching into the screen and tenderly stroking your rosy little cheek. thank you for waiting for next bits of my fic !!!

on harry's characterisation - harry is a cranky crabby little grouch with a temper and a good sulk in him. he also is not beating the softie/sentimental allegations and will always be a sweetpea when it comes to those with good vibes and freckles in spades. and we should not forget it!

anon, i don’t know what you’re like as a host, but if two horny teenage houseguests decided to use my hut for a spot of snogging and heavy petting i’d be putting my foot down and setting the skrewts on them.

more seriously - there are lots of reasons, and most are boring. some are just ‘plot’. these are two characters who are not just physically removed from one another, but having to clock their emotional distance from each other, or at least the distance in their experiences of war and how that has changed them. having them physically distant and trying to find their way back to each other through new ways of communicating is a part of this story. it would be a much much more boring story if harry and ginny could see each other every week. i love a hinny hangout as much as the next person. but the story wouldn’t work if they had endless access to each other. and this is where the other reasons come into play - story conventions, or the rules put in place by canon, where characters beyond hogwarts very rarely set foot on hogwarts’ grounds without serious reason, and the school behaves pretty much like every other english boarding school, which is strictly controlling visitor time and not just letting people rock up and hang out with the students whenever they feel like it. 

you best believe michael A&R corner will be handing out the ravenclaw lads’ mixtapes outside the courtroom, anon!

this is definitely an agree-to-disagree on this one, anon. i think, if there were no post-war justice, no trials, no public reckoning, no need to immediate need to clear snape’s name, then maybe. but i think harry would get one whiff of death eaters trying to blame their crimes on old sev and say, not on my watch. he’s literally the only person who can clear snape’s name posthumously. do i think he felt weird about it all? absolutely. but i think he would do as he does in ootp re clearing his own name and make it his business to get the truth out. i don't know if you've noticed but that young man is really rather righteous. he also couldn't wait to tell voldemort snape was actually a goodie. he was chomping at the bit, he was salivating. he had the goss and he could not wait to spread it. he's just like me fr!

thank you sm anon! i have talked a little bit about my view of hermione and ginny's relationship here (forgive the link to an old thing, i am terrible for repeating myself), but i think their relationship as you see it in beasts is my way of trying to write the middle ground between the two views of their friendship often doing the rounds in fandom - eg. they're absolute soulmate besties who totally get each other all the time vs they're basically not friends at all. i am just a bit of a sucker for hard won female friendships earned by girls growing up and getting a grip. now - if harry and ginny had an argument, i imagine ginny would be right, and hermione is always on the sign of reason. but even if ginny wasn't right, i reckon hermione would have a quiet word with her about it, but still make sure she told harry off to, just because it's good to never let the men in your life know peace.

i yelped! you dreamed of my fic! that's bonkers and brilliant in equal measure. look if chapter 15 gets revealed to you in a dream and it's better than in the google doc i'll be soooo fuckin pissed.

[kingdomhate]

First Glance (First Part)

Anakin was wandering the halls of the Jedi Temple, looking for nothing in particular. His eyes scanned the marble and granite flooring, walls and ceiling. The mere patterns of the natural rocks brought a feeling of serenity to his soul.

Anakin was so caught up in admiring the natural beauty of the decorative suit of the Temple, that he did not notice you in front of him, also grazing the hallways at this late hour. "Oh, hello." You greet him softly, nearly running into him. His head snaps to you, his padawan braid jerking violently as his head turns to you. "What are you doing up?" He asks, his voice apprehensive. He didn't recognize you. "I'm a Padawan," You tell him, attempting to reassure his apprehensiveness. "Of who?" Anakin demands, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Mace Windu." You say simply, gazing at the young teenage boy with an air of interest and immense curiosity. At your words, he relaxes. "I'm Anakin Skywalker, padawan to Obi-Wan Kenobi." He smiles at you. "Oh? I'm Y\N." He nods, listening attentively to your words. "So, what are you doing out this late?" Anakin tilts his head, curiosity entering his tone. "I couldn't sleep." You gaze at him, trying to gauge him. He nods once more. "You?" He smiles. "I find myself coming back to these hallways to think." He begins walking down the halls again, beckoning you to follow. "About what?" You question, walking alongside him. He shrugs. "Anything. It's easy to get lost in my thoughts." You nod understandingly. "Do you come down here often?" He inquires, wanting to start a conversation as he walks.

"Yeah, whenever I can't sleep or need to think." You sigh. Anakin stops and turns to you, showing you the view of Coruscant through the windows. The sight takes your breath away, barely any speeders in the sky, the millions of stars in the sky, the few lights of people's houses. "Wow. You never really appreciate something until you see it up close." Anakin stands next to you. "I'm actually from Tatooine." He analyzes you. "Oh, really?" You glare at him, curiosity pushing you to ask more, but also wanting to examine the city. "Yeah. I and my mom worked for a Toydarian. We were sold to him. But then Obi-Wan's master, Qui-Gon came, and he freed me."

You process this information as Anakin focuses on the lights and midnight beauty of Coruscant. "What's it like being Master Windu's apprentice?" He queried. "I like to imagine it's normal. I mean, he's frank and always speaks his mind. Believing there is room for improvement at every turn." Anakin smiles. "Obi-Wan is overly critical, I don't think he realizes I'm actually ahead of him in many ways." You gazed at him, a slight smile on your face. "I think all masters are like that at times." A fond smile spreads across your lips. "It always frustrating when they focus more on your flaws rather than your perfections." Anakin gazes at you, his eyes understanding and clearly knowing what you mean through experience.

"It's upsetting." He chuckles. You nod, snickering. "It sure is. But, how would we learn otherwise?" Anakin sighs. "Yeah. I guess it is going to be how I teach my padawan, and it makes sense, but it's frustrating." Looking down, Anakin fiddles with his fingers, seemingly sucked into thought. "Well, I'm going to turn in. Nice meeting you, Anakin." You smile at him before walking back to your quarters. Anakin watches you go, feeling a sense of friendship between you both now. And with that, he's content. A new friend.

On your way into your room and settling yourself in to sleep, you grin at the notion of knowing you got to meet someone today. Someone both unusual and quirky, but unique from the boringness of just being a padawan. Satisfied with that, you close your eyes.

.

.

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Tags:

@sweetcheesecakesblog

@haydenpookiebear

(Let me know if you want to be taken off or added to my taglist!)

A\N: Part two will be posted sometime tomorrow. Also, this is going to go into a series of the Star Wars characters meeting you for the first time!

[netherfeildren]

FEAR OF GOD : Chapter VI : The indignity of suffering

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: Go into that dark wood, but do not lose yourself.

Content Warnings: canon typical violence; gore; angst

A/N: I just wanted to say that you all have been so fucking kind and lovely and supportive to me. I’ve read and tried to reply to every single one of your messages and cherish them so so much. I can’t even tell you what it means to me to receive this type of response to something I’ve written, my very first thing I’ve ever shared publicly, at that. I seriously thought this thing’d have two hits, me and my burner account and that’s it. I appreciate each and every single one of you to the end of the earth, and hope I can continue to write things that you all relate to and are moved by and find solace in. Thank you so so so much. I love you and I wish you all nothing but the most amazing things in the whole world.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 3.5K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER VI: The indignity of suffering

Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.  -Richard Siken, War of the Foxes

You sit now in the dark quiet of your living room, facing straight forward, unseeing, feet planted firmly on the floor, trying to ground yourself and count the sounds of your breath. Feel the inhale pass all the way into your body, deep down to your toes, back up again through your abdomen, whistle through your lungs, up your throat and out, back into the world. A repetitive exercise to try and soothe your racing heart. 

You need to leave.

You need to leave.

You need to leave.

Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie. 

Your nails are splintered bloody, the tips of your fingers rubbed raw from the fight in the woods. It hurts, and you pick at the broken skin trying to distract from the other pain writhing within you. Something, something else has to exist in the world that can hurt more than this, than him. Please, please, let there be something else worse than this. You pick harder at the skin. You still possess enough clarity of mind to be cognizant of the fact that your thoughts are slightly unhinged. Something to hurt more? Why? For what? What good would that do you? For the girl who’s always tried to have the answers to every question that came her way, you find that there are no discernible solutions to this. No reason, no way to conceptualize it. There was no easy way to color within the lines in this moment, tuck it all away neatly into a drawer. Your edges are frayed, savaged, bloody and torn. 

He had done this to you – true. But in many ways you had also done this to yourself. You could only go on accepting the way others treated you for so long before it got to be too much. And you knew, once again, that it was all about the choices you made. What were you willing to put up with? What were you willing to let go of? What was necessary for your survival? What would you die without?

I will die without him, you think. 

Asking for things for yourself had always been excruciating. You’d gotten better at pushing that piece of yourself away – that deficit – with age. You saw it for what it was now, something to hurt you, rather than, naively considered, to protect you. And it was time now, to ask for this, to demand he love you out in the open. He could not say the words to you, fuck them into you with his body and his touch, press them into your skin – and then take them back? No. His terror at the possibility of losing you, of you getting hurt sent him over the edge, robbed him of rational thought, you could objectively understand this, but the agony of having him and not having him – of being able to only brush your fingertips along the phantom idea of him, never being able to hold on tight — dig your nails into his skin and draw blood; well that provided grounds for cowardice. Surely, it excused it, even. Because, you think: this is unendurable, unendurable. 

The two of you were made up of so much fear in equal measures. Him, afraid of his own feelings, of showing his softness, of putting that softness in someone else’s hands. And you, you, sometimes you terrified yourself. The lengths you could go to swallow your hurts, to repress the things that broke your heart – you couldn’t live like this anymore. It was too painful, abnormal – emaciating yourself in the name of being strong and stoic. 

So perhaps Joel was right, in this instance. You did. You needed to leave. As a means of self preservation, you needed to do as he’d told you. You needed to get out, away from him. From yourself. From all these people who knew you, and how much you wanted and needed and loved him and fucking prostrated yourself at the effigy of him you’d created in your mind.  You wanted to scream and thrash and gnaw your teeth through the very marrow of who and what you were, and you wanted to say that you hated him and yourself and everything, everything, everything. Why did you have to be this way? Why did he have to be this way? You felt angry and resentful with the world, with life itself. But you didn’t, you couldn’t, say or do any of those things. 

None of them were true. 

What was true was that it was not your responsibility to step between him and his daughter. To defend or protect him from her. That was not your place. Not right now, at least. The struggle between them was their own, could only be mended by them two. 

What was true was that you loved him. And he loved you. You knew this now, without doubt. What was true was that he hurt you. That he was terribly afraid. That he could not allow himself the vulnerability of being hurt again himself. 

Beth. Beth. Beth.  Where are you, sister? I need you.

You needed to go back out. Despite what had happened tonight, and your very real fear that there could be more of those men out there, that woman and her baby were out there somewhere. You needed to find them; there was something inside of you urging you out there to them – the look in her eyes, the sound of the child’s cries – and there wasn’t anything that could stop you from going. The idea of leaving the safety of Jackson’s walls without Joel, without his reassuring protection and competence, caused a fear to surge up inside you that was almost debilitating. But you had to do this. You had to find them, help them in any way you could. The desperation in the woman’s eyes – it was like a mirror of your own terror the night Beth had died. You saw yourself in her gaze in that moment, the terrified reflection of your past self. 

You’d gone straight to Maria from Joel’s. The look on your face, enough to tell her this was something you needed to do now. She’d gone straight to Noah first, then another girl in town, called Vero, both were competent trackers and hunters, and Noah was your friend. You knew he’d help you. They’d agreed to go. You’d head out tomorrow at first light, search the greater part of the day, go as far out as you could and still be able to make it back before dark.  Easy and quick. 

He wanted you gone. He wanted you to leave. Then you would. It wasn’t in your nature to be petty or lash out, but it was in your nature to hide, to swallow a hurt, to run. This was self preservation at its core. You needed to get away from the humiliation. The burning rejection of knowing that you loved him, and that even though he’d said the words, he still saw you as something apart from himself and the things he held close. Not family. 

There was a more level headed part of you that objectively knew he’d be furious to know you’d gone back out without him. That he’d lose his mind when he found out. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. The petty and hurt part, the part he’d just trampled all over, would win tonight, wanted to lash out. If Maria was letting you go you knew your plan wasn’t suicidal – at least not in terms of what you might run into out there. You both knew the three of you could take care of yourselves. Joel, though, he might just kill you himself when you returned. 

But you needed time to conceptualize your feelings. Fold things away as neatly as possible – the things he’d said to you – you needed to shut this love away in a drawer, put it to rest as best as you could. Dissociate from it if necessary, from him. 

You wished desperately for Connie in this moment. For his clear logic and calming baritone. Use your head, honey. The answer’s right there in front of you. For him to pet your hair and tell you it’d all be okay. But he wasn’t here. And neither was Beth or Ellie or Maria. No one you felt could understand, not truly. Really, you knew you wanted to talk to Joel. Knew he understood this overwhelming feeling of having absolutely nothing left to give. That he knew how someone who knows what it’s like to go without, is always willing to give more. Even if they don’t have anything left for themselves. That this feeling you were experiencing now was exactly what held him back from you. 

He understood the sentiment intimately. As hard as he’d tried to push you away, keep you at arms length, shield the softness within himself from your prying eyes and grasping fingers, you’d seen it. You’d even felt it brush up against you. And you knew, you knew, he had so, so much left to give. Even if he couldn’t see it himself. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to share it with you. He’d done it for Ellie. For that little girl all that time ago who’d needed him, and despite his reluctance, fear, trauma, his painful, painful past – he’d given himself to her entirely. 

It wasn’t in you to judge him for holding himself back from you. As much as it ripped you to shreds, you understood him with a profoundness and an empathy you surprised yourself with. Of course he was fucking scared. Of course he was terrified of the risk of pain. Of the risk of loss. 

The mistake was to assume that any person you loved would be, at all times, without fault. Never cruel. Never selfish. Would never hurt you. In love or friendship or family, you now considered, with experience, the real test of longevity to be acceptance of that occasional mistake – whether it be cruelty or selfishness or hurt – it didn’t really matter. The people you loved would hurt you sometimes. They’d say the wrong thing. Do the wrong thing. Make the wrong choice. To err was human. No one was ever perfect one hundred percent of the time, and to allow for that margin of error, was to be merciful in your love. Not only for them, for the person you loved, but for yourself, as well. The capacity – the space to make mistakes and forgive yourself for it, own it and move on – that was true mercy. That was the true promise of longevity. Especially in a world like this, one so full of cruelty and danger and casual hurts. Risk, always risk just around the corner. And Joel, he was not a man who took risks lightly. He was an animal cornered – and a threatened creature does not think of consequences. It considers only survival.

It was in the way you proceeded after your mistakes, the choices, the actions you took to make reparations, that the true test lay.  

All of this understanding, however, didn’t mean his rejection was painless. All the self awareness in the world still wasn’t enough to soothe the sting of rejection. And it stung like a bitch. 

You feel yourself start to tilt sideways onto your sofa, glassy eyes taking in the warm corners of your home. The piles of books, your tacky orange plaid throw over the armchair by the fire, the drawings Ellie’d given you to put up. A life strung together with sheer determination – a safe space. It didn’t feel as safe, as warm, in this moment, without him. Autonomy over your body lost to grief, your shoulder hits the green cushion. You turn your face into the darkness and let the hot press of tears break free. Muffled and quiet, you let all that hurt you wished you could erase, out. The pain in your throat is strangling, trying to keep yourself contained. There is a savagely broken place within you that forces you, even in this moment, to remain subdued, and you wish you could let it all out in a messy explosion of tears and howling. That your mind would allow your physical reaction to reflect the seething pain you’re feeling inside, to let go of restraint for even just a moment. 

When you’ve lost everything, how do you muster the bravery to hold onto something new?

You had it in you to run – to sneak away in the dark. This you knew. To be cowardly – even if only in his eyes. To be selfish. Even if you knew that running away, even after he’d told you to go, was the worst possible thing you could do to him. Be selfish, Birdie. Be selfish for me, just a little bit, he’d said once. Well, you would be. You needed distance and space to lick the bleeding wound your heart had become, and you had something you felt you direly needed to do. That woman was waiting for you out there – you felt it in your bones, the baby’s cry resounding in your memory over and over again.

Perhaps your anger was useless. After all, an animal cornered could only react on instinct, and Joel had cornered himself with his confession. 

But you were so, so tired. You couldn’t fight anymore. 

It’s the end of the goddamned world, Joel. Just love me like I know you do. 

-

You pull the cinch of the saddle, checking it’s secure. You’d slept like shit, the events of the night before replaying in your mind on a loop. His words clanging against your skull over and over again. The dark woods – Beth’s dying screams. The clicking. The look on Ellie’s face – so concerned, scared for you. Scared of what would become of you without him. Dawn hasn’t broken over the horizon yet, but you’re ready to get out of here. 

Sometimes you feel like he isn’t actually real. A figment you’ve created in your imagination. And really, if you’re being wholly honest with yourself, isn't that the most honest truth between the two of you? Isn't everything you think you need from him merely something born from your own yearning? Haven’t you been half-existing without him this whole time? One foot in, one foot out. If you’d never had the whole thing, had you ever really even had it at all?

Perhaps that isn’t fair, to either of you. You can’t tell what’s right or wrong anymore, real or imaginary. Your mind, blanketed by exhaustion, coherence gone out the door like an old lover.

Have I been walking in circles again?

“You ready to go?” You’re snapped from your reverie at the sound of Noah’s voice. Nausea churns in your gut on a low, threatening simmer. Everything held in a tight knot at the base of your throat. Vero’s saddled and ready to go – waiting for the two of you to mount, as well. 

Maria’s old adage, her overused one at that, sounds in your mind: The only people who can betray us are the ones we trust. How right she always is. After all, hurting someone is an act of reluctant intimacy. Who knows your soft spots, where to strike hardest, better than someone who loves you?

Leaving was probably a mistake. In the cool clarity of the damp morning, you’re worried you’re walking into something the three of you are ill prepared for, incapable of handling. But you know that baby is out there – you know the desperation in the woman’s eyes wasn’t feigned, couldn’t be. You had to find them. And Joel’d done most of the heavy lifting, killing, last night – that man’s skull crushed beneath the violent weight of his fist, the stray clickers done away with. All you had to do now was find that woman and her child, and hope nothing worse waited for you out there.

So much had happened in the span of such a few, seemingly short hours.

You mount your horse, and your belly sways with nausea you have to grit your teeth against. Concern nips at your heels, but you can’t think about that now. Not after last night, not in light of what you’re about to set out to do. Perhaps not ever. Perhaps you can ignore your anxieties and suspicions indefinitely. Perhaps then, they can’t hurt you, won’t be made real. Can’t remind you of how alone you’ll be after this is done. 

You have much to do: you must make yourself into stone, kill your memories, kill your desires, find your future. Change the very nature of your soul, if you must, learn to live without him. 

Noah settles on his mount, and you click your tongue, the three of you start to move forward. You’re afraid. A huge yawning pit of trepidation, of terror opening in your gut. This is how Joel must feel all the time. But there’s also the voice in your head, telling you this is something you need to do. No matter what. You feel so keenly, in your very marrow, that they’re waiting for you. There was no discerning evidence as to why you knew you needed to do this, why you felt you’d recognized her, but you did. 

It seemed empirically impossible that the two of you’d have met each other at that precise moment last night. In the tumult of chaos that had crashed around the two of you in that dark wood, that the night had cleared for one precise second to allow you to look at her face, to see all she needed to voice but could not say; that she was terrified, that she needed help. There had to be a reason for that.

You’d been searching for reasons in meaningless things for far too long now. You knew this. You should apply your rational mind to questioning this hair-brained plan, tell yourself that leaving without Joel, despite the things he’d said last night, was suicide. You could very well die, either out there, at the hands of some monster, or in here, after he murdered you for going out there without him. Part of you didn’t really care anymore. A blanket of numbness clouding your judgment. 

You’d always been a girl that had done as she was told, inhabited the place in life assigned to you. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to do something you weren’t supposed to. 

-

You ride for several hours before you’re attacked. The silent woods surround the three of you, moving slowly in the general direction of the clearing from last night, and then further on towards the way which she’d fled. It’s peaceful, the steady cadence of the horses hooves, the wind disturbing the stillness of the trees like a whispered song of the leaves; you think they might be telling you to turn around, to go back to him. And then, as if you’d been struck by lightning, coming to after, only to discover catastrophe of the highest order. You tell yourself you won’t regret your choice to come out here, you won’t, no matter what happens, you all can fight, this was something you had to do. There’s chaos circling you, Vero and Noah’s shouts, a gun sounding, and then you turn to see Vero’s body falling to the ground. There’s a bullet wound straight through her skull, dead center, brain matter splattering behind her in a sick mockery of strewn life. You’re shocked into utter stillness, all thought, all understanding wiped from your brain as neatly as the bullet through hers. This is your doing. 

And then fire, fire, fire, suddenly – shockingly. Pulverizing your ribs, your flesh, your very self. An inferno climbing up your chest, down your hip, and through your arm, spreading uncontrollably. You lose your seat on the horse, and then you too, are plummeting to the ground. The unyielding ground surging up towards your face like a cold wave. You feel as if you fall for centuries, and then your body is slamming sickeningly against the forest floor, your shoulder crunches and you want to howl; your head rebounding so hard you feel your very brain jostle inside your skull. Your vision flashes in and out, blurred and unfocused, and all you can discern are the mammoth figures of the trees around you. Looming over you like monsters in the dead of night, come to devour.

My secret, my secret, I never got to tell him.

You try to curl in on yourself, protect whatever remains of a body you’re not sure you possess anymore. More resounding shots of a gun, again, again, screaming and howling. Perhaps the wolves have descended. He’s going to be so angry, you think. My friends, my friends are dying because of me. Noah, where is Noah? Please, please, don’t be dead too.

You think that if you die, Joel and Ellie have to make up. They have to. He’ll need her so much. 

Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie. 

You should have never left. You should have stayed with him. No matter what he said. What the hell did he know anyway? You should have fought harder. You should have stayed with him. 

The dark lake of unconsciousness swallows you whole. 

Chapter VII

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

little brothers

Teucer gets the news that his brother died on a bright, sunny morning in the summer. And it’s not from an official missive home or the mouth of his mother, or even some official-looking man showing up at his house to deliver the terrible announcement that his older brother is dead. 

Instead, he’s playing hide and seek with a couple friends, counting to ten against a tree, when a hand taps his shoulder. 

“Go ‘way, Nikolai,” he grumbles. “You’re supposed to be hiding.”

“Teucer, right?” asks a familiar voice. He turns in surprise, uncovering his face to see a pretty blonde woman. He remembered her—almost. But the memory had faded with the rest of his childhood, and the days he’d spent in Liyue are blurry. He doesn’t even remember her name. But he does remember that she’s friends with his brother and that, on his rare visits home, he’d spoken well of someone he referred to only as “the little lady.” 

“That’s me,” he says, only a little suspicious. 

The woman’s face softens. She has bright yellow eyes, like those hawks that circle in the springtime, and they’re harsh in direct sunlight. But her expression holds nothing but tenderness towards him, so he isn’t afraid. 

“I have a message,” she says. “From Ch- Ajax.”

“From my brother?” Teucer asks, long-held glee sparking up in him at the thought. “And it’s just for me?” 

Then he considers her, and because he is twelve, not stupid, a somberness steals over him like a cloak. “Has something happened to him?”

The woman’s face goes impossibly softer, edging onto something like heartbreak. “I’m sorry,” she says, and pauses just long enough for Teucer’s stomach to drop to his feet and horror to catch at his throat. “He wanted me to tell you that.”

“For what?” Teucer asks, his voice cracking. “What’s he sorry for?”

She just shakes her head. And her jaw is clenched tight, like there’s something she’s not saying or something she’s holding back with every ounce of her willpower. “That’s all,” she whispers. “That’s all he managed.”

“What do you mean, managed?” Teucer demands, his pitch rising. 

And the woman, whose name, he learns, is Lumine, lays out the whole story in broad strokes. There was a war, and there was a god who came down from the heavens. And his brother had fought with her in that war, against heaven, and he’d used a technique that drained his vitality and left him mortally wounded. He’d disappeared after the final battle. And by the time Lumine found him, propped up on a ditch, he’d been so close to death that he’d only been able to tell her a sentence. 

Tell Teucer I’m sorry.

In a flash, Teucer understands what he was referring to. It sinks in with a sudden, sinking clarity.

“Before he left last year, he promised me he’d be back for my birthday,” he says, feeling wooden. 

Lumine laughs without an ounce of humor. “Yeah,” she says. “Sounds like something he’d promise.”

Teucer gets the impression that his brother had promised this woman a lot of things, and then—

Well.

And then he’d died.

[rise-my-angel]

"Perhaps Jon tried to send word earlier."

"No, this is the way he is. The way he's always been. He never asked for my opinion, why would he start now?"

Gods be good Sansa, you are an absolute child. First of all, Jon is King. King in the North. Meaning he is your King. He doesn't need to ask your opinion. You are not a political advisor, nor someone trained to sit on a war council, nor even raised with an education be a lord. Your short time sitting in on smallfolk court sessions in the Vale was nowhere near what it takes to understand what being a lord, leader, king, or war commander is like. Jon has nothing to gain from your lack of insight.

Not to mention, the one time you complained to him that he didn't ask your opinion, he then asked you to say what you were thinking and you immediately proceeded to get upset and whine that you didn't know what to do. Not to mention you then wrote to recruit the Knights of the Vale without ever telling Jon that you had an army at your aid which was fully untouched by war and let Jon command what little Northerners and Free Folk he had into a bloody slaughter, then showed up so late it was entierly possible Jon could've been dead by that point. Clean on your nice horse getting to play hero to a battle you refused to tell Jon you had an ally for. Why would Jon *ever* ask for your opinion after that?

Also also, you argued with him in front of the entire court of lords when he was King. You told him he was wrong for wanting to let the innocent sons and daughters of once traitors to keep a home that had been theirs for thousands of years. When disposing the home of one of your own bannerman when the guilty parties all died in battle is actually never something the Starks have done. Battle by the way, is established as a situation which Jon fully believes acts as a judging sentence. That if you die in battle your crime has been paid for and it is time to move passed it. You are going against what the North believes in Sansa, by demanding to punish an entire house, also consisting of children by the way, to be forced from their homes. And then when Jon was gone you have spent this entire time complaining that hes not good enough to be King, despite that being so open about that is treason.

Also also also, "the way he's always been?" You mean hes always been the brother of yours that you tended to ignore and not be very fond of because of you grew up holding classis views and saw him as lesser then because he was a bastard? And therefore he has never had a reason to go to you with trust?

Listen, I too think Jon bending the knee is entierly out of character and not something he would ever actually do. But that still doesn't justify why Sansa has been nothing but endlessly hostile and antagonistic towards him. Jon has done nothing but risk his life for his family and the North, you have not ever risked your life like that. You are nothing like Robb and nothing like Jon and you have no justified reason to be so openly hostile about his every choice.

Take a note from Stannis's book, Sansa. Just because you don't agree with what your brother is doing, doesn't mean you get to act high and mighty and defy his orders when that brother is also King. You want to be Lady of Winterfell or Queen in the North? Try doing your duty first, and respect your King.

Is this the romance you dreamed of, Jonsa stans? This stesming pile of blatant disrespect and contempt?

[leportraitducadavre]

Naruto re-read XXVIV

Chapters covered: 236 - 244 Twentyseventh Volume of the manga

Site used: https://manga4life.com/manga/Naruto (VIZ translation of the manga)

Disclaimer: This is intended as a list and simple observations of the topics that particularly interested me in the aforementioned chapters, in that sense, do not expect a linear -or totally deep- analysis.

Tumblr’s update doesn’t allow me to attach more than 10 pictures, therefore, all of them will be LINKED. Apologies.

349) Medic-nins: “They demand a different skill-set from a warrior. To utilize the chakra, it takes light and precise hand… an enormous amount of expertise… an adaptness at practical application… patience.. besides, there’s a special something required  of anyone intending to become a first-rate medic…” (here). That special something seems to be someone to care for (x)

350) Anti-Sakura fandom (often Hinata stans), tend to shit immensely on Sakura for “burdening” Naruto with the promise of bringing Sasuke back, despite her not forcing Naruto to promise a single thing (he’s the one who promises, x), yet she -despite learning Sasuke left (x), smiles at him and refuses to allow him to apologize (x). She’s being a good friend here. She’s heartbroken (x) yet she vows to help Naruto and not be a burden to him (here); she even seeks Tsunade’s teachings for this very same reason (x). Like, you do have plenty of reasons to dislike her, but this isn’t one.

351) Once that was said… the fact that Naruto just straight out says he has no time to wait for her (x), lmao.

352) Akatsuki won’t try to take Naruto again for three to four years (x), it’s not clear where Jiraiya is taking the intel from (Itachi?), or why they are willing to wait four years (giving Naruto a chance to grow in power) to kidnap him. Likewise, Jiraiya tells Naruto Orochimaru won’t be able to take over Sasuke’s body for another three or four years (x) given how the jutsu works and how Orochimaru was practically forced to take another vessel. 

Akatsuki is shown together and they comment on the three years time-span (x), apparently, they will be hunting down every tailed beast, leaving the nine tails for last.

353) “...and Sasuke is of the same cloth as Orochimaru. Forget bringing him back. It is the tragic path of self-righteous fools.” Says the man that taught three orphans him and his kind created in the first place to make himself feel better, only to abandon them and never look back to check up on them.

354) It took three months for Sakura to revive a fish (x), Tsunade even says she might be of a talent similar to Shizune.

355) Hinata canonically faints at the sight of Naruto (x).

356) Did the Suna brothers stay in Konoha for three entire months? (x).

357) “More than ten years ago… the rule of the five principal shinobi territories was destabilized. Skirmishes arose near the borders, drawing small countries and shinobi villages into the fray. The prolonged warfare reduced the influence of the Land of Fire, even its base of military power, Konohagakure was struck by a heavy loss of life. Later on, this conflict would be known as the Third great ninja war.” (x).

358) I’m genuinely, genuinely, trying to understand what’s so great about Minato’s leadership skills that Hiruzen chose him as Hokage before Fugaku, (who listened to his kin’s wishes and followed suit). He states that the four of them will be separating as Kakashi became a Jönin and is fit to lead (x) despite the fact that he is aware that Kakashi diminishes Obito constantly and the later isn’t even willing to respect him (x, x). Everything he does about of this animosity in between them it’s ignore it and allow Rin out of all people to try to calm them both down (x). Kakashi even takes a very bad decision during their mission (x), risking his (x) and his team’s lives (x), and jeopardizing the mission they were sent to do (which was incredibly important, as Minato states) and the only thing he does is: telling Kakashi not to “follow always the rules” (x) and scolding Obito for keeping his guard down. He tells the three of them that “the most important thing is teamwork” (x) yet do you mean to tell me he had this group for such a short period of time he couldn’t even create a pleasant atmosphere between them? Even Kakashi, who only had Team 7 for a little less than a year and who practically did nothing to fix their dynamic was able to get a more functional team…

Furthermore, it was Obito who sought Minato’s advice about Kakashi (x), and not only did Minato tell him about a very personal issue of the young leader (x, x, x), but also tried to fix the whole situation by speaking with just half of the problematic duo, despite Obito never denying any request from Kakashi (as Kakashi never told him to do anything in relation to the mission).

359) Kakashi's Chidori: It was named after Minato's surname (x) and it involves chakra nature transformation, the user channels chakra to their hands and transforms it into lighting; the whole attack implies the use of the user's speed as they need to charge against the opponent. Such momentum is dangerous as makes the user move too fast to assert the opponent's counterattack. In short, it blinds the user to a specific point, creating tunnel vision (here). This specific setback is later fixed when Obito gives Kakashi his Sharingan, making him capable of predicting his opponent's movements, which is why Kakashi uses it when his Sharingan is uncovered (here).

360) According to Minato, Iwagakure invaded Kusagakure, which is next to Konohagakure, by deploying a thousand shinobi to the battlefront (Team Kakashi focuses on infiltration and sabotage, while he is the front-line combater). His feat, killing “thousands of enemies”, is false, as he arrives at the battlefield when there still are Konoha’s shinobi (x), as his comrade says, there’re FIFTY Iwa ninjas still alive, not a thousand, so most of the soldiers were already taken care of by other Konoha shinobi. Furthermore, Minato didn’t even throw the fuinjutsu kunai he needed in order to perform, making the remaining four survivors do so, so he had help even performing the task he became famous for.

361) Team Minato isn’t even surprised or nervous at being deployed in the middle of a war, by their (lack of) reaction, they’ve experienced this type of mission before (x). 

362) Obito is capable of using fire nature release at a high level when he’s twelve years old how is he considered a failure? (here) Yes, I know he is a “loser” by Uchiha standards as people of the clan are considered top tear, but you do realize no one else in K11 (but Sasuke) is able to use this type of jutsu at his age? Not even Kakashi can correctly perform Chidori yet (and he wouldn’t be able without Obito’s Sharingan either, see point 359), Kakashi even states the difficulty of such a task when he fights Sasuke the first time! (x).

363) Rin was able to perform surgery at twelve years old and transplant Obito’s eye into Kakashi’s eye socket (x).

364) Do you realize it was Obito the one crying?? Not Kakashi? Jesus fuck Kishi you genius you… (x)

(previous post) - (next post)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello I don't understand, like homophobia and racism, etc. in the twst fandom? :00 Did a problem happens? I'm not aware ;-; or I didn't realize it idk, could you tell me what happened, maybe you know something because the truth is that until now I haven't seen anything that rare :'v

[Referencing this post!]

I'm not 100% sure if that Anon was referring to specific incidents, but these things do occur (especially the larger the fandom). You're just statistically more likely to encounter "rotten apples" if the pool of fans is larger to begin with.

I'll do my best to list some examples that happened through the years, though again I don't know for certain what events the Anon was referencing.

In the initial ask, the Anon refers to this hatred being directed at their favorite TWST content creators. I'm sad to say this, but I've witnessed far too much of it, both personally and directed toward my peers. The most common and far-reaching example I can think of is that some fans push the concept of "female Yuu" rather than accepting that any Yuu is possible, which inflames fans that don't identify as female. A lot of fan content also caters to females over fans elsewhere on the gender spectrum. This has led to a lot of feelings of alienation and feeling like the fandom doesn't accept anyone that doesn't conform to the majority. In one extreme case, an artist was told that a TWST character would never love their OC because that OC 1) was a guy too and 2) had dark skin. However, when non-female identifying fans defended themselves, some took this to be “discriminating against female OCs/fans”, which only further heightened tensions.

There's been plenty of harassment too 💦 mostly over ships (ah… ship wars, a staple in fandoms 😔). Some fans get overly possessive of their favorites and go around telling others they aren't "allowed" to like those characters or to ship their OC with that character. There are also some popular TWST ships that are immensely popular, and simply saying that you don't care for it gets you marked as a "hater" and relentlessly harassed. (This, unfortunately, happened to various mutuals and friends of mine.)

Another issue that happens a lot is accusations of plagiarism or copying just due to how popular OC culture is in the TWST fandom. A lot of times, fans will create characters “twisted” from Disney inspirations, which leads to a lot of overlap in powers, personalities, and backstories. However, I don’t think everyone realizes this and tends to point fingers at each other. Genuine plagiarism does happen, but people are just way too quick to jump the gun about it.

On the subject of OCs, sometimes there is a heated situation because someone makes an OC from a culture they don’t understand or don’t make an effort to understand. Thus, the culture is watered down or used for just the aesthetic. This, quite understandably, offends people from the culture that is being misrepresented.

Lastly 💦 this isn’t something I like to talk about often, but as I mentioned before, I, too, have been harassed. It was over something very minor too (saying that I don’t like a particular character). This led to about a year of anonymous asks demanding if I “liked [character] now” or “what do you think of [character] now” every time new content was released, as well as sometimes up to 6 long asks a DAY (from the same individual) defending that boy. They would gaslight my understanding of the game and its characters, talk down to me and other people and characters’ intelligence, and claim I didn’t “understand” him yet because if I did then I would actually like him. Every time I blocked the harassment, they would return on alts or pretend to be new people “discovering” my blog for the first time before continuing the asks. It really took a toll on my mental health and it’s a part of the reason why I am more hesitant to do creative writing for the public or to entertain certain asks these days.

I hope those were sufficient enough to give you an idea of what the original Anon was talking about. As I said in the original post, it’s best to find a group of friends to enjoy this content with. The fandom on a larger scale is so much scarier 😔 We’re all here in the fandom to just have have fun and enjoy cute boys and a magic-filled world, so I wish we could all get along a bit more 😅

vhbn

plagarism

clarifying lore about vil defending his actions

tracism

possessive of characters and defending them poorly or reacting badly when people say thy don' like ships.

[shmowder]

Oh boy... while we're on the threesome train maybe some Alexander x Victor x reader? aka Sasha x Vitya x reader

🐿️ anon

For some reason, my mind defaulted to Alexander Block, so good on you for using Sasha. I know the nickname can apply to both of them, but there is only one Sasha in my heart <3 And it's our governorfailure Saburov.

God that is one delicious combination. They both act like catty housewives around each other, attempt to one up one another in the politeness Olympics while throwing a passive aggressive remark here and there. There is also the whole thing with Vitya not even being the head of the Kains, but he is also the husband of a successful Mistress while Sasha...yeah. Vlad Sr. easily outranks them both is what I'm saying, he has both the head title and the girlboss successful wife.

Anyway, a threesome with those two is akin to a cold war where you're caught in the middle.

Alexander assumes the lead like he usually does, Victor actually flips the position and insists that Alexander lays back and enjoys himself since the dear governor must already have enough on his shoulders from his daily responsibilities.

Yes, Victor pulls the governor title while in bed. He's petty like that.

Alexander pulls the "Well, I heard your wife usually takes the lead, and I don't want to force you into a role you're unfamiliar with, Victor, so let me do my job."

Yes, Alexander just called this threesome a part of his job, don't worry about it. And yes, he just called Vitya a bottom.

Now Victor is actually playing 4D chess, instead of taking the bait and reacting in the way Alexander expects him to, he simply gives a polite nod and lets him assume the lead.

...Him going down without a fight puts Sasha on edge.

That's where your role comes in; you're a key piece in Victor's plan. He's more attentive to you, taking the initiative to prepare you with his slender fingers, stealing your first kiss for the night before Alexander gets a chance to, much to the other's displeasure.

Victor's trying to make Sasha understand that you prefer a gentle touch, pampered treatment and to be completely take care of. That you'd prefer someone like him who does the thinking for you, who still tells you what he plans to do next before he does it even when your brain is empty and his words go into one ear and out the other.

Taunting Alexander for being too assertive, too demanding and controlling. You can't intimidate someone into submission, instead show them how good it feels to willingly give the control up, to hand over all the decision making to someone more capable and knowledgeable, to entrust that he will keep you safe and cared for.

While Alexander is put off by Vitya's infantilising behaviour, he thinks the other must have a screw...or ten loose in his brain.

Alexander prefers earning the respect, to be revered, not loved. He wants to show you that he could easily corner and pin you down to the bed, that you're, in fact, very small and weak in comparison to him.

He is supposed to be stern, not soft and coddling. He is supposed to keep you in line while being your pillar to lean against. He is both your strength and weakness.

Which is why he prefers having you underneath him, it's where you belong, your natural state, you might as well get used to it and understand that only he knows what's best for you so follow his every order.

Sasha is a little too into proving he is The Man of the House, that this role extends to even the bed. Alexander beds you like he has something to prove, like he's still the newly wedded husband adhering to society's expectations.

While Victor is more open-minded, comfortable with his skin, and not afraid to take more "feminine" positions such as being underneath you while you ride him, spending a long time on foreplay. Penetration is optional for him, Victor is more than satisfied without it.

While it's a must for Alexander, he looks at you as if you've broken his heart if you even imply that you don't want his cock inside you. He sees this part as the main act of sex, that everything else leading up to this point was just a mere stepping stone, that a rejection of this must mean he failed you as a sexual partner.

Nothing is more intimate to him than the chance to finish inside you, fill you to the brim with his cum, hold you close to his chest as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, getting all of it out before pulling away.

Watching the cum drip out your wet hole, scooping it with his two fingers before inserting them back inside you. Making sure not one drop of him is gone to waste.

Victor prefers delaying his own orgasm for as much as possible, watching you in endearment as you exhaust yourself riding his cock, tiring yourself out and laying in defeat on top of him.

His cock remains engulfed in your warmth, insides twitching and clenching around it. Victor rubs circles into your sore hips as he lets you catch your breath, giving you a moment to rest while he basks in having you cockwarm him.

Much to his annoyance, Alexander doesn't let him get away with stalling, and as he claims, "wasting precious time." Lifting you by the hips, sliding you off of Victor's still hard cock before laying you on your back on the mattress.

"Didn't you already get your turn, Sasha?"

If it's being filled with cum you crave so much, he'll more than provide. He absolutely refuses to use your mouth, your insides is the only place his cock belongs. However, he's not against giving you head or eating you out, it's one of his guilty pleasures.

Oh, he did. He's simply too greedy for more, but he'll never admit it. How much he enjoyed watching you ride another man's cock, so desperate for his cum, so much so you end up exhausting yourself out like a meek thing in heat.

How could Alexander ever resist the temptation of going back for seconds and thirds after this show you've put on? Why does his steel self-will waver so much around you?

[marley-manson]

Thoughts on The More I See You

- I kinda dig Hawk’s initial awkward conversation with BJ in which the closest he gets to deflecting is delaying admitting something for about two seconds before it comes out. It’s awkward, it’s uncomfortable, Hawkeye’s clearly thrown very off, but he doesn’t actually dodge or hide anything lol, even readily corrects BJ that Carlye left him rather than the other way around.

- Then he says he needs to see her and leaves, and while he goes to get intel from Radar first, he and BJ are still seemingly the first people who show up to say hi lol so he didn’t delay long in ripping the bandaid off. Like even at his most understandably awkward and reticent he holds very little back.

- Hawk deriding advertising in comparison to surgery as a career in a little rant, solidifying Carlye’s point that he was never going to prioritize her over it in how defensive he is about it.

- BJ’s “married person” conversation with Hawkeye is weird honestly and yeah my take, intended or not, is that BJ is definitely lying, to Hawkeye when he claims he doesn’t disapprove and doesn’t care, and to himself when he says he’s never been tempted. My evidence is: Mike Farrell’s delivery throughout; BJ’s overinvestment in other peoples’ marriages as seen in Of Moose and Men, the tag in which BJ lies for no reason with no other possible thematic relevance; the fact that BJ is the one to bring up Hawkeye’s affair with Carlye out of complete thin air only to then claim he doesn’t have an opinion on it; Hawkeye stating that BJ disapproves; the wordiness of BJ’s denials; “A lot of people are unfaithful.” “I read that in the cheater’s almanac,” ie BJ indirectly correcting Hawkeye’s downplayed phrasing with the more direct and indefensible ‘cheater,’ implying disapproval; aaaaaand the fact that he cheats next season lol.

- I’ve seen a lot of people who think Carlye intends to tell her husband she cheated on him and divorce him, which is odd because when breaking it off she says: “I’ve always been honest with Doug,” to which Hawkeye urges her to stay honest and tell him, to which she replies, as a reason not to: “he’ll want a divorce.” In line with every other cheating plot in the show, the continuation of the marriage is prioritized, and like BJ and Potter’s son in law’s plots, the moral is to keep your affair to yourself so you don’t ruin your marriage.

- Carlye brushing off the way she left without a word the first time, as something Hawkeye let happen and should’ve seen coming: wow harsh.

- Ultimately it boils down not to a flaw of Hawkeye’s but to irreconcilable differences, which I dig. “That’s fair! That’s how it should be!” Hawkeye can live without her, which isn’t enough for Carlye. This is reinforced in Stars and Stripes too, where he mentions this relationship in terms of incompatibility - I couldn’t change in med school for a woman I loved. But he’s still waiting for that custom fit. So anyway I’m sticking with my take that he’s willing to commit but it has to be with the right person - and the right person won’t demand that he prioritize them over his career.

- incidentally I also think this clashes with GFA lol, in making Hawkeye’s career shift more of a tragedy than it’s framed as. It should not be seen as ‘oh good, now that he’s traumatized by war and dropping his intense career path he can commit to someone’ it should be ‘wow the war destroyed the one thing he couldn’t even sacrifice for love? fucked up.’ any post-canon story where he can fully prioritize a person over his career is now sad to me.

- idk this episode is ultimately fine. not a fave, but much better than the het backstory could’ve been lol.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

What Do You Say?- Sirius Black x OC

Sirius Black x Gaia Devereaux

Description: During the Battle of Hogwarts, Sirius asks Gaia a life changing question. When she tells him to ask again after the war, will he hold her to it?

Word Count: 1.9k

“I need all of you to stay here. Do not make a sound and do not try to play the hero. Do you understand me?” Gaia asked the group of younger years firmly. They stared at her, looking terrified. She sighed, running her hand through her hair and beginning to pace slowly.

“I know I sound mean, but this is not a game. This is a war. War is unforgiving, it is cruel, and it is much more terrifying than me. I don’t want to see any of you out on that field because I won’t be able to help you. Those Death Eaters can and will kill you without a second thought.” The room was tense and nerve wracking to those who hadn’t experienced something like this before. 

“I’m not just saying that as your professor, but as your friend. You trust me, right?” She looked around the room as the students nodded. “Then trust my word and heed my warning. There will be someone to check in on you, but be careful. Good luck you guys,” she finished. She gave them a nod as a sign of respect then walked out of the Room of Requirement, praying to any and every higher power out there that those children would be alive and safe when she could see them again.

“Are you okay, Butterfly?” Sirius asked as she stepped out. He had been the one to help her herd the younger ones into the Room of Requirement and stood guard outside as she gave her speech. She shook her head, staring at the wall where the entrance used to be.

“They’re just kids, Sirius. They don’t deserve to feel like this, they don’t deserve to fear that they won’t see their families tomorrow.” She wiped away a stray tear she didn’t know was about to fall before it actually did. Sirius wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug, letting her forehead rest on his shoulder. 

She stayed there for a vulnerable minute before a crash was heard, the battle had begun. Gaia was quick to pull away and grab her wand out of her pocket. Sirius already had gripped tightly in his hand when she looked at him again.

“Sirius, in case I don’t make it,” she started, but stopped when his hands gripped her shoulders almost painfully. There was a serious look in his eyes when hers met his.

“Gaia Devereaux, do not say that,” he demanded firmly but gently. “You and I are going to make it out of here. You know what else we’re going to do? We’re going to go home to Grimmauld Place and have tea every morning in the kitchen, then go to bed every night with each other.” Gaia smiled at the thought, and slowly nodded.

“We’ve got to get through this first, then we’ll be home free to finally start our lives together, yeah?” He added and she nodded again, this time more firmly. 

“Let’s do it,” she answered determinedly.

“Atta girl, now come on!” With that, he took her hand with his free one and began running to the action. 

Gaia had no idea how, but she managed to get separated from Sirius between all the chaos. He let go of her hand for one second then he was out of her sight completely. She didn’t have time to worry before she was thrown into a duel with Rudolphus Lestrange. As much as she tried not to kill him, he eventually gave her no choice. 

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” She finally yelled, pointing her wand at him. It hit him square in the chest, and the terrified look he gave her before falling down dead would haunt her for years to come. She suddenly heard a horrified yell from behind her, making her whirl around. Bellatrix looked absolutely devastated at the sight of her husband’s corpse, but when she saw Gaia watching her, it became one of fury.

“You insolent blood traitor!” She yelled, pointing her wand at Gaia. Before she could yell the killing curse, something hit her from behind making her fly forward. Ginny stood a few feet behind where Bellatrix originally was with her wand still raised. Gaia gave her a grateful smile, but it vanished when the deranged witch stood again. Her attention was now on Ginny. 

“And you, you stupid brat… AVADA KEDAVRA!” Bellatrix screamed as she pointed her wand at Ginny. Molly appeared seemingly out of nowhere and pulled her daughter out of harm's way before facing Bellatrix. She had a dangerous look in her eyes that even intimidated Gaia.

“Not my daughter, you bitch!” She exclaimed before beginning to throw spell after spell at her. Bellatrix blocked them with ease and hurled a few curses at Molly in return. Gaia ran to Ginny and shielded her from any rogue attacks from the women. Only a few minutes later Bellatrix suddenly froze with a shocked look on her face. With just one more blast from Molly’s wand, she burst into millions of little specs. Gaia turned just in time to see Anastasia Lestrange fall to her knees with a silent sob, but didn’t think too much about it before she ran off to help other people. 

“Crabbe Sr. Wonderful to see you again,” she spoke upon seeing the man in question. “How’s the new wand treating you?” She gave him a sarcastic smile when he faced her. His features hardened and he wasted no time in throwing the Cruciatus Curse at her. She narrowly avoided it and the duelling commenced. She had been so focused on Crabbe Sr. that she hadn’t noticed Goyle Sr. sneaking up behind her. 

“Aculeus!” She heard Sirius yell behind her. She glanced back to see Goyle Sr. fall to his knees crying out in pain as the Stinging Jinx did its job. Turning back to Crabbe Sr., she just barely dodged a blast. Sirius went back to back with her as he began dueling Goyle Sr. 

“You know Butterfly, I’ve been thinking,” Sirius said as they switched spots to take turns dueling with the two men.

“That’s always dangerous,” she joked before throwing a hex at Goyle Sr. 

“I swear it’s good this time!” Sirius laughed. “I was thinking, what would you say about getting married?” She yelled a Stunning Spell at Goyle Sr. rendering him unconscious then looked at him.

“What?” She asked, laughing in disbelief. Sirius followed her lead and sent the same Stunning Spell at Crabbe Sr. 

“I’m just saying. We only live once, and I was thinking we could get married.” Gaia grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down so they were both crouching as a jinx went over their heads. Once they stood, she looked at him again.

“How about we focus on surviving this first? Ask me when the war is over,” she instructed, kissing his cheek before running off to see where she could help.

“I will!” She heard him call after her, making her smile and shake her head. 

The war was over. Voldemort was dead, Harry Potter defeated him once and for all. Any Death Eater that hadn’t died was either sentenced to Azkaban or given a Dementor’s kiss. That didn’t make up for the lives that had been lost. She didn’t even know that her old students, such as Lavender Brown or Nymphadora Tonks or Colin Creevey had died until she had to help bring their corpses in. She practically broke down when she was shown Fred Weasley’s body. He and George had been some of her favorite students because they plus Lee Jordan often reminded her of James, Remus and Sirius. 

All she could do was offer condolences to the Weasley family before walking off to distract herself. She hadn’t been joining when she said war was unforgiving and cruel, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be upset over it. When she walked into the Room of Requirement and saw everyone there and accounted for, she actually did start crying. She gave each of them a hug then instructed them to go find their families. Sirius later found her sobbing to herself in the empty room. 

A year and a half later, the wizarding world had been rebuilt and the people began healing. Gaia had decided to temporarily resign from her teaching position at Hogwarts in order to be with Sirius. After all that happened, they finally got to go home to Grimmauld Place and have tea every morning in the kitchen, then go to bed every night with each other just like Sirius said. It felt like a dream come true. Especially with Sirius’s name being cleared and him being accepted as a part of society once more. 

They had a housewarming party after fixing up the place and adding a bit of color to the normally dark house. The Weasleys (including girlfriends/wives), Remus, Violetta, Harry, Anastasia, Hermione, Regulus, Cecelia, Madeline, Luna, Calypsa and Xenophilius were in attendance. They had a good time talking, eating and laughing. Eventually everyone moved to the living room to continue the festivities, and Sirius stood in the middle of the room, gaining everyone’s attention. 

“First of all, I’d like to thank all of you for coming to celebrate with us. I firmly believe that every single one of us deserves this night to just relax and be in company with friends and family,” he said, taking a glass of wine from Gaia to make a toast. The crowd either nodded or murmured in agreement. 

“To a new beginning,” Gaia added, holding up her glass. Everyone repeated her words with their glasses raised before taking a sip. 

“Gaia, I always thought the day I went to Azkaban was the worst day of my life. As it turns out, that wasn’t the case. I thought my life was over when Bellatrix used the Cruciatus Curse on you, I was so terrified,” he paused when he heard a few people ‘cooed at him. “It was that moment when I realized that I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without you. For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve loved you every minute since we met. Not many people can say they found the sense of their life. I am happy- and that’s because I realized I’ve found mine in you. You’re my love and my life. Gaia, you are the blue in my sky, the beat of my heart, the twinkle in my eyes, the reason I smile everyday, the song in my heart and the literal light of my life. You told me during the battle that told me to talk to you when the war was over. I don’t know about you but I think this is the perfect time.” 

A collective gasp spread through the room as Sirius slowly lowered himself down on one knee. Gaia’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth as she finally understood what was going on. Sirius gave her a sweet smile and pulled a small red velvet box out of his coat pocket.

“Gaia Alphine Devereaux, will you do me the greatest honor I could ever imagine and become my wife?” He asked, opening the box. Inside sat a rose gold ring with a citrine stone in an oval diamond cut. Everyone watched in anticipation as Gaia finally reacted.

“Yes! A million times yes!” She exclaimed between laughter of disbelief and happy tears. The others erupted in cheers as Sirius stood once more and slipped the ring on her left ring finger. Gaia smiled brightly at the gesture then cupped his face and pulled him into a quick kiss. 

When they pulled away a few of the others walked up to congratulate the couple and get a closer look at the ring. The rest of the night’s festivities increased tenfold as it turned into talk of the wedding. 

[ggebba]

I’m so glad someone brought up the topic of cultural differences in your last post.

There’s a guy at my university who’s from Russia. He’s been in the U.S. 2 yrs. We’ve been been getting to know each other and it’s clear there’s a mutual crush between us. Since I read ur post about cultural differences I wanted to know if there was any for dating or boyfriend/girlfriend? Based off the way he acts I’m positive there’s some because at times I’ll say something and he looks shocked or confused, so I stop and ask about it, but he just smiles and says “continue”. Although I was raised in the US I’m not even American myself, so I feel like there’s definitely cultural cues I’m not picking up on and I may say or do something thats considered weird/offensive 😭 plzzzz HELP

To be honest, it took me a long time to think about this question. Because it's a very unorthodox question. I will speak for my experience and for the examples of my friends.

Russian guys see you as theirs from the first date. They act like you've already moved on to the "boyfriend / girlfriend" stage. They will hug you around the waist on the first date, flip your hair off your own face, throw a coat over you even if you say you're not cold. This is pretty normal for a Russian guy.

In the candy stage, Russian men act as gentlemen and it's very nice. They bring flowers, cakes, do lots of little things that tell you that a date with you is something special. They always pay for you at restaurants and cafes at this stage. And unlike Western men, they don't expect you to have something more that night.

A Russian man is not always able to understand that you have your own things to do and your own schedule. They expect you to adjust to their schedule. They may also snatch the coffee out of your hand with the words, "You've had enough caffeine today." Personal boundaries can be a problem in relationships with Slavic guys. For them, it's about taking care of the girl.

Russian men ALWAYS come to the first date with flowers. If a Russian guy brought you flowers to your meeting, it's "not just a meeting".

Russian men love to give advice! This is a kind of care for their other half.

A Russian man automatically expects a woman to create coziness around him. However, now this trend has begun to change and Russian men have also started to take over some of the household chores and everything comes down to an agreement on the responsibilities of each partner. I'm talking about large Russian cities. If a guy grew up in a small town, you should not expect "progressive views" from him. On the other hand, Russian men know how to hammer nails, fix faucets, and many technical jobs around the house are quietly done by men. So it's just a cultural difference, and sharing household chores is difficult in any culture.

It is worth noting that Russian men are quite closed. It is necessary to enter the circle of trust, so that a man with you to share something intimate. This takes quite a lot of time.

Basically, absolutely everything comes down to communication. If you don't understand his words/actions, it's better to clarify "what he meant". Also, if he's reacting to something, you can ask him what's up.

I can summarize everything and put it this way. Official estimates of the Soviet Union's losses during World War II, including civilian deaths - 26.6 million people. According to the 1959 census, there were 18.43 million more women than men. There were 641 men for every 1,000 women.

I brought these statistics to explain that men are very spoiled by women's attention and the tendency to please and cherish them as much as possible. There was an expression "A man in the family is a king and a god". That's how boys have been brought up ever since. And even though now men have started to change and talk more about equality, but in general, the Russian man is very demanding both to himself and to his partner. A vivid example of the "patriarchal model" in relationships.

Just talk through all the incomprehensible moments. And love will find a way.

I hope I answered your question ☺️

[the-firebird69]

So Trump wanted to be the good guy to take over punta Gorda police and instead he's got to fight for the sheriff department and the police are trying to kick him out these people are stupid my son is kind of celebrating because you guys are very repressive he's a dick he messed up so many jobs it's not even funny then he's going down the river for doing that and Missy was helping. And you s******** did mess them up big time and what she doesn't know is we're going to mess them up for real because you need them out of the air and out of the way to get your forests and your stuff and you're tickling them now and they're going to start turning hostile and you're going to have a war and I relish it because I hate you both Missy and Gary AJ Stan you're after my job cuz you look like me you're filthy loser these people say it to him all the time and they're dead too today you all get to take on the clones yourself and you Stan and Sherry get to take on all of them or lock cuz you're not going to move your stuff even though lose anyways every night

Mac daddy

You're a dick Stan and Sherry is too and you messed stuff up all the time Mac has he doing it and he's going to get messed up too so I don't know who to think tell you what today is the day where the warlock are leaving but you two have a front row seat and if you fail and make one slip up you're going to be gone because so many of them are going to be after you to move out of the way

Zues Hera

It's not really absurd and it's true we have to get out of here

Stan sherry

There's more to this too that's a big chunk of it and they're going around the world demanding stuff and for Mac and he's fighting them and they're coming up to us and our outposts and demanding stuff and they're not making it we cut them morlock down very fast

Thor Freya

We have to use our heads here and it's going to work out but boy you more like suck and I see what he's screaming about it's a fine day for you to leave and someone down the street tried something and died this is going to be awesome i can see how it works

Hera

They're all sitting here repressing me and they don't understand it cuz they're stupid today they're going to understand it because lots of them will be dead

Zues

Yeah that's what you're hearing that's what I'm saying well we have to get rid of you now that's what having your own forces is all about

One of the most poking is set up and talking so we're going to take it off

Olympus

You mean gigantic mistakes here Woody and so did this piece of s*** Trump and you just perpetuated it it sat here talking about it for a couple seconds then the rest of the day is sitting here threatening me and you're going to get what you deserve and really you sound too stupid to understand it

Zues Hera

I get it we're going to go up there and start trouble and we're going to have trouble here and below it's going to suck it's only us out front and it's stupid just like you said this man here I'm with Woody harrelson is a stupid person you people are dumb you men really f****** stupid

Mallory

I'll say it right to you Dan I forget out there isn't a way to say it you set yourself up and now you're going down and you're happy about it cuz you're so God damn dumb going out there is a pure retard thinking you're winning something it's so damned embarrassing your piece of s***