#hard to imagine anything happening like that today. grim

[nawoken]

Ơ v Ơ

Thanks for liking my post guys, I appreciate it. So I will start spreading my mind when I don't have anything better to do from now on then.

Hm, today will be... a reader from Gravity Falls, who got transported into TWST world. Oh, reminds me of those good old days, when we still had a bunch of good-quality cartoons.

(T vT)

You can be a friend of Dipper and Mabel, who joined them on their trip to Gravity Falls. Or the town's resident, who has always known about this place's weirdness but most of the time, when you bring it up, no one actually believes you. You can even be the twins' sibling, or well... Lil Gideon's dogsbody (no one want this right?)... That's your choice.

I want to build a reader who has enough understanding of those mystery creatures so it's better if you have a few links with the main cast :")))

After the defeat of Bill Cipher, a few years went by in peace. Until one day you wake up in a whole different world that has magic. Great, it's cool, you're fine, nothing too bad yet, it can be worse, right? After all, you used to encounter many more strange things than this.

Maybe, after not being able to contact you for a long time, Dipper will realize your disappearance and find a way to help you. Or..., the headmage in front of you can do something like he said.

Nope, you're wrong, he is useless, that's what you realized after staying there for a while. That biscuit doesn't even care about finding a way back for you! So, you have to find another way while facing a bunch of other overblots.

You've never really told anyone else about stuff you used to face back in your world, mystery creatures, monsters, and a Dorito from different dimensions.

Mostly because when they asked why you can face all this "transport to another world" or "fighting some gooey inky monster" things so calmly. Or why did you act so aggressively about making a deal with Octoville Housewarden. You told them how you used to fight this triangle entity from different dimensions, that planned to destroy your world, but they would just brush it off or say that you have a wild imagination.

You feel a bit sad when it happens, but you get it. Some magicless people can fight off a Dream Demon that can control space, matter, and even time? That must be hard to believe. So you just let it be.

~~~

But, out of nowhere, mystery creatures start to appear around the Isle of Sages.

What do you mean you saw Gnomes with a red cap and blue outfit running around in the jungle? And there is a whole island that suddenly appeared overnight?! Some scientists tried to approach it and it arose from the river, appeared to be a freaking giant head?!

It's all too familiar to you. After all, you had gotten into a bunch of trouble with them during your stay at Gravity Falls. It must be that this island has some kind of connection with that town!

Then, you just have to find that connected point to open the dimensional portal, and come home, right? Maybe, the twins with their uncles will get to you before you even have to do all that.

So, you just acting like normal. But your friends don’t want that. Mostly Grim, Aduece, Epel, and Ortho when they took an interest in the mystery thing that recently appeared inside NRC. Jack and Sebek tried to protest, saying that it was stupid but got provoked by “Why? Are you scared?” from the others.

You got dragged in, mainly because you worry for them. Even when they have magic, you still have more experience with this than them. You don't have the Journals with you but you used to spend quite a lot of your time studying and understanding them alongside the Pines twins. So, you’ve memorized most of it, if not all.

~~~~~~

The moment your groups step into this strange part of the forest, with some big red mushrooms with dots and some floating shiny orbs come straight out of a fairytale. You know this is a "Gnome Forest".

Before you can get everyone out of this place to avoid meeting those creepy creatures that have an obsession with finding a Gnome queen. You see Jade, observing and taking note of the mushrooms.

Jade: What a pleasure meeting you guys here.

Deuce: J...Jade-senpai?! What are you doing here?

Ace: Ye, and where is Floyd, is he sneaking also around?!

Jade: Fufu... don't you think it a bit rude to ask questions without stating your reason for being here?

Jade: But, as you can see, I'm studying these delightful mushrooms. And, no, unfortunately, my brother isn't into this kind of thing so there's only me.

Jade: ... Then?

Epel: W...what? Oh, we're here for the mystery creatures that been lurking around.

Jade: Oh, from the rumors?

Epel: *Nod* Yes.

Ace: Hm, you must be here for a while, have you seen anything yet?

Jade: Sadly, no. However, I do hope that I can encounter one of those, Azul might take an interest in them (For business thingy, I guess). Hm,... do you mind if I join you guys?

Deuce: Uh, no...

Jade: Great! ^v^

(Okay, that is, I'm out of brain juice for that conversation. Hope that is not too Ooc (XvX))

You stood aside, looking around worriedly while Ace bickered with Deuce due to letting Jade join. Jack felt your restlessness, mistaken that you're scared so he tried to comfort you. Sebek saw it and loudly said something about how weak humans are.

That's when some shadows dash by, Jade, Jack, Ortho, and Sebek become more alert while the others are a bit startled. Grim screaming something about not wanting to be eaten and clinging onto Ace's face though.

Looking back and forth a few times just for you guys turned to Epel, and saw a Gnome right next to him with a flower in hand. You know that shoot, Jeff! And! seeing his action, you also realized what come next.

Epel: ...For me?

Jeff: Yes, for you, my... future queen! (I can't, this is too much, I'm dying)

Gotta say, your friends have a good laugh except for Epel, who looks about to explode and Jade has this amused smile. If not for how bad the situation actually is, you might laugh as well.

Y/N: Guys, we should go.

Jeff: WAIT!!! Let me introduce myself first, I'm Jeff, Gnomes' leader. And, we are looking for a new queen...blah blah... (sorry)

At some point, Epel blew up, and he started throwing spells and that's when they knew what Jeff meant by them. 1000 Gnomes running out from God know where merged into a huge Gnome then chased them after their fail attempt of fighting it.

Ace: WTF is that?!

Deuce: How can we fight it if it keep merging?!

Grim: Wroahhhh, It's so fast!

Ace: You should just accept their marriage proposal!

Epel: WHAT DID YOU SAID?!

Jack: Why did I agree with this...

Sebek: I KNOW THAT I SHOULDN'T LISTEN TO YOU GUYS!

Ortho: This is quite fun, isn't it?

Others: NO!

You are tired of running, Jade has already gone out of sight the moment that thing compiling. You tried to reach inside your backpack, you were prepared for this after all! Your dog whistles. You just need to find it from the pile of things you quickly stuffed into your bag.

Finally! You quickly told everyone to cover their ears, mostly for Jack and Sebek due to their sharp hearing, and blew the whistle. That giant Gnome started to fall apart, and those Gnomes quickly ran away, far from the noise that hurt their ears.

Ace: Uh... What was that?!

Epel: Prefect, h..how can you do it?!

Grim: Haha, good job my henchman, I know you can do it.

Y/N: Gnomes, they have enhanced hearing so they can't bear high-pitch noise.

Deuce: But, how did you know that? Did you read about it somewhere?

Ortho: I don't think so, I've scanned them and I don't find any research about those creatures. So, prefect, where do you study about it?

Jade: I also want to know. (^v^)

Sebek: Where are you coming from?!

Y/N: Guys, just calm down. About those creatures, of course, I know about them. It's from my world after all.

Others (minus Jade): What?!

Jade: Oh... that's really interesting.

Deuce: Why have you never told us this story?!

Y/N: *stared back at him unamused*

Ortho: Hm... I do remember they used to say something about fighting supernatural entities.

Ace: But, I thought that just some jokes!

Y/N: Well, now you know it not.

Epel: Wait, so you did fight those?!

Y/N: Yes.

Sebek: Hm, maybe you're not as weak as I think, human.

Jack: Is that why you're worrying then entire time?

Y/N: Yes, I just don't know how to warn you guys since you're not gonna believe me.

Others: Sorry...

It can be said that everything ends happily. You guys talked to Crowley and he has to start doing some research about your theory of the connection between Isle of Sages and Gravity Falls (Ramshakle dorm).

You become a storyteller for the first-year gang, Jade (he wants to know all the information), and you might not know but also Rook, who observed your groups from afar the day of the exploration. Telling them about those creatures that you've faced, the journals, the Pine twins, their uncles,... and even about Bill Cipher.

You tell them, they tell the others. The famous magicless Prefect used to fight paranormal and supernatural entities that have been lurking around lately?! Only your friends actually believe in it, but that's enough for you.

Until they started to find you for more information, so Ortho helped you create a blog to spread some, not every single of them though. Should start some business by solving mysterious things. Talked to Azul and he might help you, you used to help him so he wouldn't trick you with his deal,... right?

Well, who knows? You know quite clearly the consequence of making a deal without thinking right?

______

EBIIL LIA COFBKA

JFPP JB?

Why is it this long?! I just want to type something fun and spread some idea but then it turns into a whole ass rambling :')

I still have more for it, but I'm lazy, my brain might or might not die at this point and I can hear light, see noises... I should sleep but I'm hungry. :'))))

English is my second language so there might be some confusing things in my wording, let me know if you feel there is anything that needs to be corrected, thank you.

I also haven't had a chance to finish Gravity Falls' series and it also has been a while since the last time I saw it. I've tried my best to gain more information about it when wrote this but if I am wrong about something, please tell me.

Anyway, I might do part 2 for this if I'm in the mood. See ya!

Oh, Also, Idia found this CD. It's old, yes. But it's an old game CD! Might be worth a ton this day. But, most importantly, he wouldn't say no to ancient games. An otome game about dating a pink-haired high-school girl... (I changed her ending a bit I guess).

[allkordelia]

The Funeral Pt. 1

The wave of Gullet crash into the rocks that surrounded Driftmark, the sky was covered by grey clouds. The wind blew subtly as house targaryen and house velaryon stood outside listening to lord vaemond speak, everyone wore black and grim looks.

Today was Laena Velaryon's funeral. The only thing left of her was her char burnt body that was hidden by the driftwood sarcophagus that was made by corlys, only a few knew what really happen to laena while others speculated, but rhaelle knew so did daemon and their two children, maekar and alys, as well as jaenara.

It was hard for the three children to sleep, every time they close their eyes all they could see is vhagar fiery breathe and hear rhaelle cries for her baby sister. Noneof the witnesses had a decent night of sleep, and it showed on their faces especially rhaelle.

She had bags under eyes and hollow cheek, she barely eat when it was time to daemon dismay and when he have to tell her to she ignore him and move her food around her plate with her fork, and when night came she would sleep for bit before waking up in cold sweats and leave to the garden where laena and her girls like to spend their free time. Sometime she would go under the tree that laena who be with gaela and gaemon reading them a tale, and curl up in the spot next to where laena would usually sit and cry herself back to sleep.

Her late night trip would result in a argument with her better half, as daemon worried for her health rhaelle tried to handle the unexpected death of her little sister. She and laena never grew up together, rhaelle was sent off to marry otto before her sister could understand why her big sister wasnt leavijg with them anymore, rhaelle always felt like a stranger to her sister but laena never did. Laena saw Rhaelle as her big sister that she never got a chance to be raised with because of their father, but they made up for lost time when she decided to live with daemon and rhaelle.

Rhaelle found out so much interesting things that she never knew about her sister, like laena favorite flower was gillyflower or how she hated the taste of squash. Or how she would wiggle her nose when she was anxious or sad or the fact she always wish to sail the world like their father did when he was young.

So much she found out about laena in the course of a few years, and just like that she was gone, rhaelle didn't expect it or prepare for it. She never thought about the stranger taking her sweet sister, rhaelle always imagine she die first so she didn't have to watch the people she love fade away. There was times when she was laying under the tress that she wish the stranger would trade her soul for laena's own, her sister didn't deserve to die so young, laena deserved to live her life and explore before being trap in a palace with a husband like daemon and surrounded by children.

Rhaelle felt like she failed her sister in many ways than one.

As both house stand in silence near the cliffs of High Tide, rhaelle glance around at the familiar and unfamiliar faces that should to pay their respects for her sister. Her children was gathered around her while daemon stood off to the side away from his wife and children, gaela was in front of rhaelle with her mother's right arm around her shoulder with her cane in hand while rhaelle's other arm was holding gaemon to her side. Alys lean against her older brother, Aemon, while holding Alyssa's hand, Maekar was next to Alyssa with his arm around Baelon's shoulder while the young boy focus more of the water than anything else.

Valaena and Aeron was there with their sons and adrielle aa they stand behind their mother, Corywn was inside in his chamber looking out of the window of High Tide, corywn's sons were with their cousins next to Valaena. Baelor was there as well with Marra and his wife beside his mother and gaela, baelor had his head on top of his wife's head as he tries to keep in the tears.

Baela was next to her grandmother with her head on rhaenys's shoulder, while Rhaena was being held by Corlys. Laenor was standing with his daughter with both arms around her holding her to him as he shed tears for his older sister, rhaenyra stare at laenor and jaenara with a hint of anger as she stood holding her two boys close to her. She glance away from her husband and jaenara to look across from her to daemon who stood alone with his hands clasp together in front of him, he flicker his eyes up to look back at rhaenyra who cast her eyes away as her heartbeat fast in her chest.

"...Salt course through Velaryon blood. Our runs thick. Our runs true..." Rhaelle glance away from her sister's coffin to her uncle to see him staring down rhaenyra and her children making her wrinkle her nose, before rhaelle could snarl at her intolerable uncle, her heart clench when she heard daemon. 

Aeron look over at Daemon with a sneer as well as Baelor, the children furrow their brows in confusion or anger as they look at their father before they look away back to their great uncle.

Daemon had his bent as he giggle at the audacity of vaemond, he lift his head up again with a hint of a smile, he glance at rhaenyra before he look over at his wife and children. His smile fade when he caught rhaelle's wet eyes, she sniff and look away from him to look back at her uncle with a glare.

"...And ours must never thin–" Vaemond says.

"Dīnagon va, kepus." Rhaelle hiss making the older man look at her for a moment taken back before he bow his head and let out a apology. Move on, uncle.

"...To the sea we belong, and to the sea we return..." Rhaelle bite the inside of her bottom lip as she turns to her sister's coffin.

"Kostagon ziry emagon nykeā ȳgha voyage." Vaenond said in high valyrian, rhaelle pull her arms from her children and step forward making laenor do the same. May she have a safe voyage.

Rhaelle held her brother's arm as they step close to the coffin, she let go as they go on either side to look at the carve face of their sister. She bends down to kiss the head before pressing her forehead against the wood, she whisper a prayer before leaning up straight to watch her brother to the same thing. Rhaelle and Laenor step back holding onto each other as they watch with blurry eyes as their sister get push into the sea to be with her ancestors. Laenor turns his back to the scene as he hugs rhaelle burying his face in his sister's shoulder crying, rhaelle hold her brother tight as the loud splash of water indicates laena's departure.

Rhaelle stood in the corner looking out at the sea as the guests give out condolences, she turn her eyes down to the stone balustrade before glance to the right of her to see daemon further down leaning his hip against the balustrade as he watch her subtly. She drag her eyes away from him and back at the deep blue sea, while rhaelle was wallowing in despair, her brother was off somewhere grieving alone. As she leans forward she rest her chin on the palm of her hand as her elbow rest on the stone balustrade, she heard whispers making her turn her head slightly to hear jace and rhaenyra talk.

"...we should be at Harrenhal paying our respect to lord strong and ser harwin–"

"Jace. Enough." Rhaenyra says as she flicker eyes around to make sure no one heard him, she caught rhaelle's empty stare making jacerys follow his mother's gaze to see his aunt.

A sudden anger and resentment spir in her stomach making her scowl the two before turning away to push herself off the railing and limp away with her cane snapping against the stone floors, daemon move away as well following after his wife as she heads towards the table and grab a cup.

"What are you doing?" He ask standing next to her, rhaelle didn't pay no mind to him as she stare at the red liquid that's giving off strong fragrance she tried so hard for years not to touch.

"What do you think I'm about to do." She said monotone as she swirl the liquid in the cup.

"Don't do it, rhaelle." He said as he watch her smell the wine.

"Why not? I think I deserve a little taste of oblivion just for one night."

"You work so hard to stay clearheaded all these years, don't throw it away, laena wouldn't want you–" A low bitter chuckle pass through rhaelle's lips before she finally look at daemon.

"Really? My sister have barely been down there, and you already using her to guilt me. It's one drink." She says.

"That will turn into two then three then four then your pass out somewhere chocking on your own vomit." A flicker cross between rhaelle's eyes.

"You would like that wouldn't you." Daemon look taken back by her words, "I bet you have a good laugh at my funeral as well, huh." Her words cut deep making daemon bow his head in contempt.

"You know I didn't mean anything by it, you heard what he said, I was just trying–" Rhaelle hit his chest making him look at him.

"I don't care what you were trying to do, your fucking daughters just lost their mother and rather than standing by their side and comforting them, you thought giggling right in the middle of it was a good fucking idea." He glare at rhaelle at her tone.

"It was your uncle who started it going on about true blood and whatnot."

"They are words, daemon. Those words mean nothing to their ears–"

"So, I should have just allow him to shame rhaenyra and her sons."

"Did you not think for a second I would have stop it," Rhaelle's words brought silence between daemon and her, he stare at her searching her eyes before glancing away, making her scoff, "So focus on her that you forgot I was there, that I have been defending her and her children for years. Just because I been a bit depress you thought I was going to allow that fool to make this about legitimacy rather than my sister." Daemon was quiet making rhaelle slam her cup down with a look of disbelief.

"Your unbelievable, daemon."

"I'm sorry–" she put her hand up.

"Don't, I can't." Daemon gave rhaelle a pleading look before reaching for her hand only for her to slap it away, "I need space. Watch the children and make sure they get to bed. I will come back to tuck them in." She said making daemon frown before he watch as she limp away to go back to the castle.

Rhaenyra watch from her spot near the other table as rhaenyra and daemon got in an argument, she watch as rhaelle limp away before she turn her eyes to her uncle who was watching with a dejected look.

Daemon felt someone watching him making him glance around at the guests before his eyes landed on his neice, he stare at her as she stare at him, before he could step forward to go to her gaela walk up to him.

"Papa, I'm hungry." Daemon kept his eyes on rhaenyra as she look away from him.

"Go find your brothers." He said.

"But, aemon is busy with baela and rhaena, and maekar..." Daemon let out a agitated sigh before he look down at the little girl, his bastard, his mistake and rhaelle's child.

He never understood why rhaelle wanted to keep her, daemon was fine with shipping her off to the silent sisters or whoever. Gaela was one of daemon's biggest mistakes, she was the fissure that made rhaelle regain her distrust in daemon.

"Then go ask your sisters, I can see you list off every damn flower in the garden but you can't think to ask your other siblings for help." Gaela step back with a bow head at hed father's harsh words, "You must learn to do things by yourself, your brothers and sister nor I and rhaelle will always be there to help you."

"I'm sorry, father." Gaela mumble making  daemon huff as he turn his nose down at the little girl.

"You know how i hate when you mumble, speak up."

"Daemon." Rhaenys hiss, daemon look away from the girl in front of him to his mother in law, rhaenys been watching him the entire funeral after that giggle he made, she could see from where she stood with her grandchildren that daemon was belittling the little girl.

"Princess." Daemon acknowledged grimly, rhaenys look at daemon with distaste before turning her soft look to her granddaughter.

"Gaela. Alys is looking for you, why don't you go and keep her some company." Gaela swallow before glancing at her father wore a empty look as he stare at rhaenys, a rumble in her stomach made her look back at her grandmother.

"Okay, but can we...get food first." She ask timidly making daemon roll his eyes and rhaenys smile at her.

"Of course, my dear. Come along." Rhaenys held her hand out for thr little girl to take, gaela gave a small smile to her grandmother and grab her hand.

Rhaenys didn't spare her son in law a word or a look before she walk away with her grandchild, daemon watch them with a empty heart before he look for rhaenyra again to find her talking to Valaena. He'll wait for them to stop talking before going over but for now he went back to his spot by the balustrade to be alone, it didn't take long after for viserys to go over to his brother and talk.

As daemon was busy, his children were all huddle together with their cousins in silence as they watch their parents and adults socialize. Aemon had gaemon in his lap as he sat next to baela, baelon sat next to rhaena with her holding his hand while her head laid on his shoulder. Alyssa was standing next to Maekar as he had his back to the party and look out at the water in deep thought, Alys was on the ground with adrielle and daeron keeping helaena company as she mutter to herself and plays with a spider. 

Aegor, Balaegor, and Vesemir are valaena and aeron' sons, the two oldest, aegor and balaegor were talking with corwyn's sons, Ronas and Romarn while Balaegor was holding on to Vesemir's hand as they stand near their cousins, Aegon and Aemond. Aegon was two cups in swaying a bit as he looks at adrielle as she talks to helaena, aemond notice his brother drunken state and decided to walk away from him to stand near the fire pit with his nephews and neice.

He stand close to his neice before looking at her to see jaenara looking in the fire with a empty look and misty eyes, aemond move his hand to brush against jaenara's hand making her hand flinch slightly and make her look to her uncle. He gave her look making her look away and back at the fire pit, aemond cast his eyes down crestfallen before he felt jaenara's hand grab his own. He look at her as she continue to stare at the fire, a small curve of his lip make him go back looking at the pit before stepping close before squeezing her hand.

Valaena walk up to them catching their attention, she stand their with a handkerchief in hand, her messy white hair was in a bun away from her face showing off her tear streak cheeks and red eyes.

"Hello, children. The sun is going down, you should all head up to bed now." She says.

"Where is mother, sister." Aemon ask.

"Mother is taking care of laenor, so I will need you and Aegor to put your siblings to bed." Aegor step forward making valaena put her hand on his shoulder.

"Where are you going, mother?" Valaena sniff moving her handkerchief to dab her eyes.

"I must attend to your uncle corywn, he is...unwell and needs me and your father." Ronas and Romarn share the same look as they look at each other before looking back at their aunt.

"Okay, sister." Aemon says making valaena give them a watery smile before leaving.

Gaemon move off aemon's lap making the older boy stand up with his sisters following along, Alyssa nudge Maekor's arm pulling him out of his thoughts and look at her before he look at the others getting up or moving from their spots. He watch Alyssa leave only to stop when she saw gaela and their grandmother, they shared a few words before Alyssa grab her sister other hand and wall with her inside.

Maekar stayed outside along with aemond, jacerys, lucerys, aegon, baelon, ronas, and romarn. He wasn't tired, well he didn't want to sleep more like wouldn't be able too. He turn his eyes to glance around the guests to try to find his father, when he did he saw him leave down the stairs, probably to find mother, maekar turn his eyes away from where his father went to rhaenyra who came to tell her sons to go to their chambers. Maekar turn back around to look out at the sea toning their voices out, and focusing on the waves that crash against the rocks of the castle.

"...we should go."

"...do you think anybody there."

"....definitely not but we should wait until it's nightfall."

"...fuck that we should go now before our parents get back."

Maekar turn to see his brother trying to convince their cousins to leave, maekar pull away from the balustrade to wall up behind his young cousin, Romarn.

"What are you talking about." Romarn along with his brother flinch at maekar sudden appearances making the boys look at him.

"We're going to go flying." Baelon said, "You wanna come? We gonna need a look out." Baelon wiggle his brows with a smirk making maekar just stare at him

"You should be in bed. All of you should." He said making baelon roll his eyes.

"We go to bed when we finish flying, so are you coming or what, because my dragon isn't big enough to fit aemond." Aemond glare at Baelon, making Maekar think about it for a minute, he didn't want to be the only one awake and flying did soothe him.

"Fine, but only for an hour." Baelon smirk while ronas and romarn smile along with aemond.

Maekar look around before motioning for them to follow him, they went to the stairs were his father left not too long ago before they stop. A man with a  beard and pin on his chest drag aegon up the steps, the boys move aside as the older man didn't pay no mind to them as he drags aegon away. They continue on down the steps to the sandy ground, and headed to where their dragon's slept.

@beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @avidreader73 @green-lxght @spderm4nnnn @supermassiveblackhope @watercolorskyy @stargaryenx

[wordsandrobots]

Apropos of half-awake thoughts this morning, I've been considering the perennial subject of people coming into fan-works and making demands of the writer or artist in regards to their creative choices. You know, 'this is wrong', 'you should change this', 'make more!!!' etc. It's been quite some years since I had to deal with that kind of behaviour but I've seen it happen to other people and it always sucks. Today my brain has decided to connect it to Humphrey Smith.

Story time: the town I come from has three breweries. The reason for this is that the limestone we're built atop filters the local water, making it 1) good and hard and 2) easy to access. Technically we're a market town but brewing is the foundation of our modern economy.

Two of these breweries, John Smith's and Sam Smith's, are the remnants of the brewing empire started by John Smith, a Victorian gentleman endowed with truly spectacular mutton-chops and also money, who bought an existing brewery in the town before building a new, much more impressive one further up the street. After his death, the business was left to his brothers, one of whom would go on to leave the old brewery to his nephew Samuel. Thus, the empire split into two. Both halves are still operating and have been successful enough that the current owner of Sam Smith's -- Humphrey -- is the biggest land-owner in the town.

Here is where the problems begin. You see Humphrey is, to put it gently, crackers. He suffers from being exceptionally wealthy and, despite some motions towards investing in local amenities, largely exists on a moral crusade against the changing social mores of the 20th Century. He won't countenance any businesses that does not contribute to the atmosphere of a sleepy market town (read: basically anything), refuses to maintain or sell off his properties, leaving the place full of the rotting shells of buildings, and he's been at war with the town council so long, they're currently planning to build on a flood plane that does indeed routinely get swamped by the river just to have somewhere to put new houses.

The man is not well-liked, is what I'm saying. And among his 'charming eccentricities' are the strict requirements he enforces on the pubs he owns. Any Sam Smith's pub must be run by people of good moral character (preferably a married man and woman), there must be no music and no phones, no swearing, no motorcyclists, no kissing, etc, etc. Basically imagine the dourest stereotype of Yorkshire grimness and that's what he's actively aiming for (no I am not kidding, just check out the 'controversies' section of the Sam Smith's wikipedia page).

Anyway, the point of all this is that there's a lovely tale shared around the town about how, one day, our Humphrey walked into a local pub and said to the bar-tender something to the effect of, 'Switch off that music, throw those people out, take down those fixtures and fittings, this is not the Victorian traditionalism I pay you for.'

Only, the bar-tender leant over the bar and replied, 'well that's nice, Mr Smith, but this isn't one of your pubs.'

Should you find yourself in the position of having some dipstick with fixed opinions swan into your work and start telling you everything you've gotten wrong, I think you could do worse than bear this heroic chap's words in mind. Your work is not their pub. They have no claim on what you make and no grounds for enforcing their vision over yours. They aren't paying you, you aren't working for them, and frankly, they have profoundly misunderstood the situation if they think they're entitled to tell you want to do.

This is true even in the face of widely accepted fanon or when you're cutting against general expectations. In fandom, every piece of art is the result of our own personal reactions to a piece of media. We can decorate our individual pubs however we want and if other people don't like it, well, they can lump it. Go forth and do what you like, music and kissing and all!

[This post brought to you by the belated 11 year anniversary of that berk on dA who spent ages arguing with my attempt at redesigning the Quarks from Doctor Who. The *bloody Quarks*, man! Sheesh.]

[hb-writes]

Give Away

Summary: It’s 1922 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. It's a family day—Arthur and Linda's wedding day—but rather than celebrating, Arthur's got Tommy thinking about something he'd never consciously given much thought to—their Clara's wedding and who would be giving her away.

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, and Clara Shelby.

Content Warnings: Nothing much aside from me taking some liberties with the timeline of Arthur's marriage.

Request (anon): Maybe Arthur and Tommy having a chat about the family and the chat turns to Clara, and Arthur saying how he’d like to walk her down the aisle one day- and Tommy finding that hard as he was always the one he imagined would do it.

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there. Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

"It'll be her turn soon enough, eh Tom?"

Arthur nodded toward their sister, Clara. She was being led around the impromptu dance floor by one of her cousins, her bare feet shuffling through the grass.

Tommy fished in his pocket for a cigarette in lieu of giving Arthur an answer. If he’d had a drink, Tommy would’ve downed it, but Arthur and Linda’s wedding luncheon was a dry event. The most scandalous thing they were serving was too-sweet lemonade and a chocolate cake. 

And Johnny Dogs' cheeky lyrics, of course.

The music hadn’t even been a planned part of the day. It was meant to be a brief ceremony and a luncheon. But this was just the sort of thing that had happened when Johnny Dogs was bored for too long. The man got an itch and somehow assembled a band from the guest list. 

Clara had been dancing ever since.

"Mark my words, Tommy,” Arthur continued, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.

Tommy wasn’t quite certain how Arthur could stomach speaking about such a thing while sober, though he supposed it was just Arthur talking for the sake of talking. He did that sometimes, and Tommy usually let him, but it seemed a harder task today, especially when their little sister had been spinning dizzy circles in some boy or another's arms for hours now. 

Tommy knew it was all innocent enough. Everyone at the luncheon was family—or just about—and those who weren’t family were smart enough to not bother trying anything with the Shelby girl. Not with Tommy sitting right there on the sidelines of the dance floor, looking a bit grim and ready to go at the earliest convenience. 

In truth, Tommy was ready for the day to be done. Arthur’s marriage to Linda was exactly what he wanted. It was what the family needed, really. It would be good for Arthur to have a wife. Linda had already been good for him—slowing the drink, keeping an eye on him, taking some of the pressure off Tommy to always do those things.

And Tommy had done his duty. He’d celebrated his brother and his new wife. He'd acted as his best man. None of it had been exactly traditional. The whole day seemed to be some sort of mismatch of values and ideals and allowances anyway. Tommy didn’t care enough about it to comment. It wasn't his wedding. It was Arthur's day.

So even though Tommy hadn't had a drink in a few hours, he wasn't complaining. He had given a toast to the bride and groom. He let Arthur feel he was directing for the day even though it was Tommy who had been the one guiding Arthur all along—holding his hand and moving him along towards the decisions he wouldn’t make for himself. And Tommy hadn't dampened Clara's spirits with his mood either. He knew how she liked this sort of thing. He let the girl have her fun.

Tommy thought a little drink might have helped the whole thing go down easier, though. Celebrating his brother’s new wife and his new home in Maypole while Tommy waited on Grace to come back to him, with the whole thing kept quiet while she tried to maneuver out of her marriage…it wasn’t easy. But knowing Arthur would be taken care of freed up a little piece of Tommy’s mind. It cleared out some space. There were a hundred other things already queued up and ready to fill it, but it still eased him somewhat for a moment…or it had until Arthur brought up the subject of their youngest sister's nuptials. 

That certainly hadn’t been one of the things queued up in Tommy's mind. 

Tommy inhaled deeply with his lips around the cigarette, barely paying attention to the fact that Arthur was watching him, looking for some sort of reaction to make sure he hadn't said something wrong, his gaze nearly begging Tommy to respond—to acknowledge him—but Tommy remained still and neutral for as long as he could, as if in doing so he was keeping some part of himself from Arthur, keeping some part of himself for himself. It was only a few seconds, but it was a reminder that Tommy didn't have to give away everything to Arthur today. He could keep some things for himself. 

It wasn’t easy. 

Ada had insisted more than once during the course of the afternoon that Tommy needed to cheer the fuck up . She’d reminded him to smile a bit, to have a laugh and a dance and a piece of cake—it was a family day, after all—but so far he’d remained mostly neutral. 

The irony was not lost on him that Ada said those particular words, the very same he’d offered to her during a family day, a wedding, that felt ages ago now. Tommy's face had shown no indication that the words had had any impact, but Clara had laughed aloud at Ada's words, some part of her wondering if she'd ever be confident enough to tell her older brother to ' cheer the fuck up .' 

Tommy's side eye at the uncontained giggles quickly convinced Clara otherwise and she had coughed and coughed trying to stifle her giggles.

Ada was across the way now, talking with Arthur’s new wife. Polly didn’t seem to like Linda very much, but Ada was making a show at being personable. And she was acting better than she had at John's wedding, the last proper family day. It had been a very different event, a very different day. 

For one, there was no booze today, and Ada wasn’t kicking off about all the ways Tommy had done the lot of them wrong. Tommy figured so long as they weren't welcoming Linda to the family by one of the girls giving birth on the dance floor, the Shelby family must be moving up in the world.

Assuming Esme didn’t go early, today there would be no Shelbys born. There would be no arranged marriages. There would be no deals with the Lee family. There would be no drunken shouting.

And today, it was Clara—not Ada—who Tommy watched swinging around on the dance floor for hours. Back at John’s wedding, Clara had passed the day running wild with Finn and the Lee kids for company. She had been just a little thing back then. It was John and Esme’s lot running, now. 

Finn and Clara were still a bit wild, or maybe they were wilder than they were back then, but they weren’t just little kids anymore. In a way, that had made it easier to keep an eye on her. Clara had done nothing but dance all afternoon, so Tommy hadn’t lost sight of her.

"All done up in a pretty white dress,” Arthur continued to fill the silence Tommy was still holding on to. “Ready to start off on her own life with some boy...a nice boy. Smart, like her. From a good family."

Tommy cleared his throat. “A good family, eh?” he asked, ignoring Arthur’s odd way of speaking, some attempt at a poetic depiction of their sister’s future. “Good like ours?"

“Yeah, Tom,” Arthur nodded, laughing a bit. He didn't note the sarcasm in Tommy's tone. "A good boy from a good family. And I suppose I'll need a new suit. Something nice to walk her down the aisle in…well, assuming she doesn't go running off like our Ada, that is.”

Arthur finished with a fond chuckle and a nod toward Ada.

Tommy's first instinct was to remind Arthur that their Clara wasn't nearly the same girl their Ada had been back then. Christ, Ada wasn’t nearly the same girl she’d been when she ran off to marry Freddie Thorne. And the circumstances and girls themselves were so different…but Tommy’s mind quickly got caught up in processing the first bit of what Arthur had said instead. 

And I suppose I'll need a new suit. Something nice to walk her down the aisle in.  

Now that really was something Tommy Shelby had never consciously thought about, and it certainly wasn’t one of the hundreds of issues begging for acreage in the field of his mind, but it struck something in him now. Tommy had passing thoughts about Clara settling down one day, sure. He figured that was probably natural for an older brother of two sisters, but he only ever thought about all of it in a vague sense. The idea of his Clara being married was a picture painted in his mind with only the broadest of strokes.

Tommy had certainly never questioned who would walk the girl down the aisle. 

He supposed he had always known who wouldn’t be walking her. It wouldn’t be their father giving Clara away. Even if Clara had wanted it, Tommy could never have stood by and allowed it. At least him and Arthur seemed in agreement on that point. Arthur Shelby, Sr. had no right even being there far as Tommy was concerned.

Arthur might expect the responsibility to fall to him next by default. It made sense. He was the oldest. There was some logic to it, some natural order, but Arthur’s saying it aloud tugged at something in Tommy. It jostled some deep-seated, subconscious notion that if anyone in the world had any sort of right to give the girl away, it was him.

If she let anyone give her away, that is. 

Maybe Ada and Clara were more alike than he initially thought. 

Either way, it wasn't a conversation Tommy was going to have with Arthur tonight, not when he was grinning like he was, drunk on something more intoxicating than alcohol. He was just happy to finally be ahead of Tommy in some sort of backwards, unspoken race that existed between them. 

Tommy could let it go for now. Thoroughly assured by the fact that the subject of who would be walking Clara down the aisle wouldn’t be relevant for what he hoped would be a decade’s worth of time—hopefully, more—he returned to his initial thought.

“She's not Ada, Arthur," Tommy finally said, coming back to his first instinct. “And if any boy tries to marry her without consent, I—"

Tommy stopped himself when Clara appeared at the table, seeming to pop up out of nowhere with a glass of lemonade. Tommy took a moment to reconcile her presence. Surely, she’d just been on the dance floor with Nipper a few seconds before. Tommy had seen her. 

The day’s events had settled an easy smile on the fourteen-year-old’s face and all of the dancing painted a visible flush on her cheeks. She looked both ready for more and exhausted at the same time, like she could drop at any second—mid-sentence probably—but her feet would still be dancing. 

Clara took another thirsty gulp, holding the glass at her side as she met Tommy’s eye. 

“You’ve just been sitting here all day, Tommy,” she whined. 

Tommy studied her as he took a long drag off his cigarette. “And you haven’t sat in hours.” 

Clara scrunched her face up at the suggestion. She didn’t want to sit. She didn’t want the day to end. She held out her free hand, reaching toward Tommy as she twisted on her feet, the band’s music exerting more control over her than her conscious mind. “Will you dance with me?” 

“You should have a rest, Clara.” Tommy nodded toward the empty chair beside him. “You look dead on your feet.” 

“I wanna dance.” Clara shook her head. “Please, Tommy?”

Arthur snorted. Tommy’s eyes flicked to his brother. “If you’re looking for a dance partner, you’ve asked the wrong brother, sweetheart.” 

It was usually the truth unless Tommy was in a particular mood or had a particular motive. Most songs were a particularly good length for him to deliver a lecture. It was something Clara had long ago accepted about her brother and she usually wasn’t too bothered by it. 

Tommy saw something fall in Clara’s countenance as Arthur cut in though, a bit of disappointment settling in his sister even as she turned from him. Clara had already accepted Tommy’s refusal and she was prepared to issue Arthur the same request she’d made of Tommy, but there was a hesitance in her. She’d already danced with Arthur a few times today. She’d danced with John and Finn and Michael. She’d danced with Charlie and Curly. She’d danced with Nipper and Henry and Isiah. She’d danced with her nieces and nephews and even Johnny Dogs. Seemed like she’d danced with everyone but Tommy. 

Clara’s bare feet shuffled on the grass as silence stretched on between them and her gaze shifted instantly to Tommy as he leaned forward, stubbing out his cigarette and standing in one swift motion. 

“One dance for me,” Tommy said, “And then one for Arthur, but then you’re taking a rest, eh?” 

Clara nodded quickly, a smile coming to her lips. Tommy clapped Arthur on the shoulder. 

“Maybe offer your new wife a turn about the floor instead, eh, Arthur?” 

Tommy took the empty glass from Clara’s grasp. He noted it wasn’t just plain lemonade as he set it on the table. He’d suspected as much and now that he could smell the liquor on Clara’s breath, he knew. Tommy figured that was John’s doing, and he figured the lemonade was the real reason for Clara’s easy smiles and endless dancing. That was why the girl was edging towards a bit of atypical silliness. It was only a matter of time before the tiredness set in. 

Tommy hoped it would come sooner rather than later. It would make for a convenient excuse. 

He took Clara’s hand and led her to the makeshift dance floor. Clara was studying her brother as he guided them into position, seamlessly incorporating them into the fabric of the other dancers.

“What?” Tommy asked, sparing her half a glance and catching her stare.

“Why’d you say yes, Tommy?” 

“You asked for a dance, Clara,” he answered as if that alone explained the way of things between them. 

“So, that’s the rule now then, is it?” Clara giggled. “I just ask for what I want and you’ll say yes? Ada told asked you to cheer the fuck up and you didn’t do anything of the sort.”

Tommy shifted his eyes down so he could meet her gaze, the glance a half-hearted warning. It wasn’t something Clara could take seriously, not in her current state at least, and she giggled again for a half a second before Tommy suddenly spun her out and away from him. Stealing the breath from her laughter, Clara shouted out her brother’s name instead and slapped her hand against his chest as he turned her back around to face him. 

She started giggling once again and Tommy snorted, smirking as Clara struggled to settle back into the song’s rhythm, the drink and the twirl and her resistance to letting her brother lead causing her to fall slightly out of step. 

“We used to always dance like this,” Tommy said. “I used to twirl you around the house for hours. Surprised there weren’t holes worn in the floors.” 

“No, Tommy.” Clara shook her head. “Back then we danced like this.”

Clara stepped on the tops of Tommy’s shoes and he shifted his arm to hold her steady. 

“You were easier to guide back then. Not quite so rebellious,” he continued. “Less backtalk.”  

Clara turned her head as she rolled her eyes, wobbling as backed off the tops of Tommy’s feet. 

“Not stumbling from drink, either.” 

Clara stilled, tensing in her brother’s hold. She suddenly longed for Tommy to spin her away from him, all the way across the dance floor. 

And when that didn’t happen, she wished it had been Arthur she’d asked for a dance instead. Arthur probably wouldn’t have noticed she’d been drinking. He was too deliriously happy with the day to acknowledge anything that would detract from it. 

But it was Tommy who had heeded Clara’s wishes. And it was Tommy who had been watching after her all afternoon, keeping his eye on her even though it was a family day. Even though they were all safe. Even though he had no reason to worry. 

Tommy continued moving them about, but Clara still hadn’t met his eye, a certain tension thrumming in her body as Tommy moved them around the dance floor. Tommy let it linger for a moment, allowing the discomfort of being caught out sober Clara a bit before clearing his throat and issuing her name. 

Clara looked up at him, ready to offer some sort of excuse for her behavior, but Tommy shook his head.

“You and the boys had your fun, but no more of that today, alright?” He lowered his voice as he continued, nodding toward Linda. “Your new sister-in-law will have a fit, eh?”

Clara followed her brother’s gaze, the slightest of smiles ghosting her lips before she turned back to her brother. She gave Tommy a quick nod.

“Good girl.” Tommy looked away as he continued twirling them, seeking out Arthur in the dwindling sea of guests. “You enjoyed yourself today?” 

Tommy asked the question though he knew the answer. Clara had loved everything about the day. Ada was home. Everyone was together. Clara had gotten a pretty new dress. John had snuck her some drink. She had danced and danced for hours. And to top it off, Arthur seemed to be enjoying himself for the first she could remember in quite some time.

His union with Linda had come about rather quickly—today was less than two months after the pair had met—and Clara wasn’t quite sure whether it was happiness her brother was experiencing, but something had certainly changed for him. Arthur was drinking less, if he drank at all. He was going to church again. He was smiling more. 

Clara nodded. “Arthur seems pleased.” 

“He does,” Tommy agreed. 

“And Linda’s alright,” she said. “Good for him, I think.”

“Yes.” Tommy nodded. “Linda’s alright.” 

He wondered whether his sister would be so happy when she heard the news of his own wedding. He wondered whether Clara would welcome his choice of a wife as she had welcomed Arthur’s. Tommy wondered whether his happiness about a life with Grace would be enough to ensure Clara’s happiness would follow.

“Maybe you’ll be next, Tommy.”

Tommy made a conscious effort not to still at his sister’s words. He made a conscious effort to appear anything other than caught out, but it was almost as if Clara was reading her brother’s mind. It was almost as if the girl knew exactly what Tommy was keeping from her. 

It nearly seemed like that, but Tommy knew that couldn’t be true. Polly and Michael were the only ones who knew about an impending marriage. And only Polly knew it was Grace he was planning to marry. Only Polly knew about the baby. The last woman Clara had known of Tommy being connected to was May Carleton, and that had been over for a few months now.

Polly wasn’t pleased with his choice. She’d been pretty insistent that Clara wouldn’t be happy either. Tommy was tempted to believe Polly on that front, though a part of him figured his Clara would come around. It would probably take time and Tommy figured she had the right to a little outrage on the matter considering where they’d left things with Clara’s once upon a time tutor. He’d afford his sister those feelings at the outset. He was anticipating she’d be upset about Grace in the beginning, which was also why Tommy figured Clara couldn’t have a clue now, not with her being sweet as she was. 

“Our next family day,” Clara mumbled as she lowered her head to Tommy’s chest, their movement limited to nothing more than a slight sway back and forth as Clara rested against her brother. 

Tommy’s gaze caught Arthur once again. He’d gone to find Linda, seeking to bring her out for a dance as Tommy had suggested, but he’d been unsuccessful. Arthur had given up. The song was coming to an end anyway. He had probably figured it wasn’t worth forcing his wife to dance for a few seconds when Tommy had promised Clara to him for the next. 

He stood at Linda’s side now, shuffling his feet as his wife talked to one of the guests.

“Alright,” Tommy prompted, nudging Clara. “We better let Arthur have his turn now, eh?” He relaxed his hold, giving Clara the room to pull away. Clara didn’t move, barely shifting her head to glance at Arthur before resting her cheek back against Tommy’s jacket.

“I’ll have to find my shoes if I’m to dance with Arthur again,” she mumbled, yawning. “He’ll step on my toes.” 

Tommy snorted. 

“It’s not funny. Someone stole them,” Clara mumbled.

Tommy knew precisely where his sister’s shoes were. They’d been in his custody for much of the day, ever since Ada brought them over when Clara kicked them off. Ada had said she thought it was best leaving them with Tommy since he had taken on the position of human statue for the afternoon.

“They’re under the table, Clara.”

“Alright, Tommy,” Clara answered, nodding her head against him. “Thanks.” 

“I’ll get them before you dance with Arthur.”

Clara didn’t answer. She didn’t make any move to let Tommy get away, either. It had been no more than a few minutes that Clara and Tommy had been dancing, but something about the quickly setting sun mixed with the alcohol made Clara feel all fuzzy. She was feeling tired now, like the gentle sway of their promenade was rocking her to sleep. And it seemed to Clara that it was best for her to just stay put. That meant it was best for Tommy to stay put with her, too. 

“Tommy?” she asked, lifting her head to meet his eye. “Can we maybe have one more dance, you and me?” 

“You already had your dance,” he said. “And by the looks of it, you’re more ready for a bed than a dance floor.” Tommy tried to take a step, pulling Clara along with him. “C’mon. We’ll get your shoes, hand you off to Arthur for a quick dance, and we’ll get you home.” 

“No.” Clara planted her feet, shifting her grip to Tommy’s arms. “Tommy, please. Just one more? It’s a family day, remember?”

Family day. 

Clara was right. The next one would be his—they’d be celebrating his wedding to Grace. Maybe his sister wouldn’t ask for a dance when that day came. Maybe Clara wouldn’t want him to walk her down the aisle on her day either. 

Tommy didn’t know. He couldn’t. But Clara was asking for another dance with him now and if he didn’t have to give her away, he wasn’t going to. Tommy glanced above Clara’s head, finding their brother among the dancers. Arthur was spinning a reluctant Polly around the floor, his promised dance with Clara seemingly forgotten. 

“Alright, one more, but that’s it.” Tommy tugged Clara back into his arms and she quickly settled back against him. “Wouldn’t want your new sister-in-law having a fit because you've gotten drunk and worn out her new lawn, eh, my girl ?”

Clara lifted her head, a scowl firmly in place by the time she met his eye. Tommy could’ve sworn he knew the tone she’d use with him even before Clara opened her mouth, even if he hadn’t known what she would say. 

“You’re the one wearing shoes, Thomas .” 

Tommy didn’t bother commenting on her use of Thomas . He took the opportunity to spin his sullen little sister away and then back to him, the scowl on Clara’s face wiped away, his transgression seemingly forgiven as she settled against him once again. 

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[bookwhurm]

Animal Farm by George Orwell

I’m rendered almost speechless by the relevancy of this title in the world we live in today that was written and published 78 years ago. It’s historically relevant and apparently one of the most devastating blows to Stalin’s agenda.

The thing that I fear the most is how it is still applicable in so many ways. It shows the tools that can be used to achieve a totalitarian government. The steps that need to be taken. They almost always form an “other” to be against. What was once the humans who indeed were taking advantage of them, it then became Snowball, then the nearby farmers. Whichever suited their agenda. Whichever kept the animals from turning inward with their suspicion and kept their worries outside of the ruling of the farm. The 7 commandments were constantly altered, but the intelligence of the pigs and the inability for many of the animals to read and write left the interpretation of it’s history entirely up to the pigs instead of the other animals they ruled over. The speeches and persuasive nature of Squealer was convincing propaganda that soothed any fears of the animals while the part of the sheep (this analogy was not lost on me) was to constantly chant whatever nonsense that Napoleon chose at times when protest was most imminent. To drown out whatever dissent was possible and confuse the masses. It’s hard to think over the shouting of short, catchy phrases.

The complete hypocrisy of the pigs to defy all the commandments by the end of the novel was astounding and it took me by surprise that none of the animals showed any dissent, though it’s not hard to imagine why when compared to the  many humans have turned the same blind eye for atrocities committed in their own countries. As an American, some that I can think of in the past decade were the imprisonment and separation of children of immigrants (the camps of children that no American did anything worth noting about, including me), the increase of rage against any and all racial/ethnic groups especially in the era of the Trump administration (starting with his campaigning against Mexican-Americans and how they ruin the country to the eventual physical abuse that happened to older Asian-Americans because of Covid-19), the continual divide in the classes to the point where most Americans only own 7% of the capital of the country combined (don’t quote me on that, this is from memory), and the events leading up to the 2020 protests for Black Lives Matter.

The important thing to take away from this novel is that while one person alone can’t take on the entirety of the system that was inherently built against them, it takes one person to stand up and rally while the support from those that believe in that message is the most integral to change. Groups accomplish change, whether it’s slowly or quickly like the rebellion on the farm. It also is a grim reminder to stick to your own guns and come to your own conclusions. To not base your beliefs only on what you are told and whichever statistics and facts are hand fed to you, but to do your own research from many different sources. To protect your beliefs and ideals even when you’re told otherwise.

Rating: 10/10 - How could it be anything else

[worldussysblog]

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening Everyone!!

Okay so today I rewatched the twisted wonderland op for like 1000 times already and I just notice something on its ending well it's really hard to notice considering it's so fast so I slowed the speed down and take a screenshot on it✋.

‼️SPOILERS FOR PROLOGUE, CHAPTER 5 AND CHAPTER 6‼️

Beware of some Grammatical Errors 👺

This is just some silly theory of mine so don't make a big deal out of it🗿

Okay first we have:

This a book.Yes a book, and as you can see it's open and there's more books beside it , now I'm wondering if this is the same book Crowley used when him and Mc when to library to check on country Mc is from 🧐

Or maybe this could be from future chapters? Like Crowley finally decided to be responsible and do his job to look for our way home?🤨

Second we have this:

On second clip in the end of the Twst Op Grim was shown I don't have much to say on this one but I feel like the theory about Grim overblottimg might happen in the future but damn if that day ever comes I can't even Imagine on what Mc and others reaction to him heck have you guys even seen the monster that was shown in the early chapters? Like damn bro that gotta be hard to defeat😀🗿.

On the Third clip we have this one:

A black ink. Yes a black ink that was spilled on the desk/floor etc but what if this "black ink" was not just any ink but it's a blot?, You know what this is just getting more suspicious as I go on 🗿 I mean after Grim was shown the nextclip was a black ink? Could this be perhaps a foreshadow on what will happen in the future? Does the Overblot! Grim theory come true? I'll leave it at that for now.

On the fourth clip we have:

On the fourth clip the Night raven College campus was shown and you could see that it has no light or whatsoever in it. I don't have anything to say on this one. Though I must say the campus looks more beautiful at night.💝

On the fifth clip we have:

On the fifth clip Crowley was shown and the freaking irresponsible headmaster was looking at us/screen .

Just like the fourth one I don't have much to say on this one other than the Fcking crow being a huge creep. The first time I saw this clip I got chills💀

On the sixth clip we have:

On the sixth clip you can see an apple on the floor with a small bite in it. Maybe this one could be a foreshadow on what will/has happened on chapter 5? when Vil tried to poison Neige by giving him a poison apple juice. That's all I can say for this one.

On the seventh clip we have:

(Honestly this clip is my favorite and it made me even more curious on what will happen on Chapter 7-)

On seventh clip a Spinning wheel with some thorns around it was shown.The first time I saw this I was like "OMG COULD THIS BE A FORESHADOWING FOR THE CHAPTER 7??"🗿 Yes that was my immediate reaction when I saw this. Back to the topic, what I was saying is that, Will the same scene on sleeping beauty where princess Aurora was put to sleep will happen in chapter 7? I mean there's a huge possiblity that It might considering Malleus is slowly coming to realization on how fragile humans are- I mean how y'all seen the ending scene on Chapter 6?? One of malleus lines he said " It breaks easily like a silk thread spun by a Spinning wheel" he said that after his talk with Lilia with how fragile humans are BUT the big question is who will be the one that will be put to sleep ?

My theory is maybe it's Mc/Yuu? I mean we could see how much Mc means to Malleus considering they are the first human whom did not fear him and he also said in one of his voice lines(this one is quite popular)

"You aren't afraid of me, but... I'm starting to become afraid of losing you"(NEKDKSHEKSK) AHEM

That was one of his voice lines and now I'm wondering did something happen in the future that drive him to overblot and put someone to eternal slumber?

Find out in the next chapter🤗

Jkjk but seriously I'm losing my mind just by thinking on what will happen on chapter 7😀✋🗿.

Anyways onto the next and last clip-

On the last clip we have:

On the last clip Crowley's clothes on the ground was shown. When I saw this I immediately thought "Did something happen to Crowley?" My curiosity just increases when I saw this one it's making me overthink a lot like WHAT THE HECK WILL HAPPEN IN THE FUTURE BRO😭

Aniplex I'm begging you just drop the diasomnia trialer already will you😭🤧

You know what let's just leave it at this for now. I'm getting headache just by Thinking on what will happen in the future chapters😀✋🗿

That's all I have to share hehehe have a night day or night-

[indigosfindings]

can you elaborate more on the joyful/optimistic art vs cynical/sad art thing?

(re: this post)

sure, sorry in advance if this is messy.

the gist is that there's a slew of micro-discourses whose common thread is the inherent or automatic superiority of art and stories that are optimistic and centre 'joy', 'love', and other positive emotions over those that don't.

it manifests a million different ways: "x series is bad because it's pessimistic/cynical/dark", "x story is bad because it depicts SA/incest/abuse*", "horror is really about love/family", "love is a unilaterally healing and moral force", "dark/negative art is universally less authentic/earnest", "sad/disturbing art is easy to make while positive art is difficult," etc. (also seems to correlate w the internet's general attitude toward criticism--that even mild negative feedback toward any art is in essence insulting its author & audience)

one of the factors imo is that a lot of people are unwilling to interrogate their reactions to something. like the process is "i see disturbing art -> i feel disturbed -> 'disturbed' is a negative emotion -> this art has done something negative to me -> this art is bad" and then never question it further

as for why i feel frustrated: hmm where to start. it's an extremely flat heuristic that diminishes alll art with any aims other than to please or to be Fun. it denies that "to disturb", "to frighten", "to disquiet", "to sadden", "to critique", etc are worthwhile endeavours in art. it also just betrays a narrow view of what has the capacity to be Fun for someone! i'm especially frustrated because horror always gets the brunt of it. there's a sort of longstanding anxiety about the "value" of horror, about horror needing to "prove its worth", and i think a lot of people's answer to that is to say "it's not actually about Scary, it's about Happy :)"

one of the really popular takes that i still see today is "if you're writing a fantasy story where anything can happen, why incorporate homophobia, misogyny, etc?" and, i mean, it's a pretty straightforward answer--because those things exist in real life, and by incorporating them into a story you can reflect, comment on, and explore real issues that are pertinent to the audience! likewise re "love is virtuous and healing," it's just a simple fact that love is morally neutral. people do HORRIBLE things for love all the time. i used to be more idealistic about this, but now i honestly cant stand the idea that a saccharine, childlike stance on love is by default a better one

(there's a huge comparison to be made here with the reactionary pushback against modern art btw)

it also ties into a broader schema--"toxic positivity" is a popular line, but we can aim higher: there's a sort of cultural mandate toward positivity, where saying "x is bad" is worse than x being bad. think right and send thoughts and prayers. capitalism loves the idea of each person fending for themselves--you have the whole concept of "wellness" and "mindfulness", ie Positive Thinking as a vector for mental health (the corollary being that a person who is unwell is a person who is Not Trying Hard Enough To Be Positive), whereby to read a situation cynically (or pragmatically!) is the worst thing you can do. and well, by the same token, when we have a whole cavalcade of employers who LOVE seminars and videos about How To Manage Your Stress (and zero interest in inspecting what it is that makes employees excessively stressed to begin with!), im sure you can imagine why someone could get exhausted of positivity.

as i said in the previous post, the most insane part is the particular framing of this atittude as somehow counterculture, controversial, or against the grain. y'know, when we're discussing chipper upbeat art about how everything is good vs art that's grim, violent, negative, pessimistic--which of these is most likely, historically and today, to be censored, to be banned, or to arouse controversy?

*(obviously there are depictions of SA and other sensitive subjects that are callous, sexist, etc! but there are also plenty that are trenchant, edifying, powerful, evocative, etc!)

[independentzaun]

Silco, would you rather spend a whole day being nice to everyone you interact with, or fist fight Sevika?

((crack/not actually cannon to them/I'm in a weird fucking mood right now so have this.))

Everyone had bad days, and unfortunately when Silco saw this particular note it was one of them. He’d been standing with a cigarette in his mouth, and a dark annoyed look in his eyes already when he picked it up and read it. A snort came from him, and turning his head as Sevika entered his office he silently held it out. Raising her eyebrows Sevika stepped forward taking it. “Sir?” Reading quickly, she took a step back and looked at Silco tilting her head just a touch. “...Sir….”

Cigarette put into an ashtray Silco took a breath than let out a soft grim chuckle. “I think you can call me Silco right now, Sevika. You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to hit me. It’s okay.” Turning to face her Silco started to undo the cuffs to his shirt. “Perhaps when you lost the use of your arms three times, and neither time did you get anything resembling a vacation? That was a nice touch when your arm was bound and limp, and we walked into the chem-baron meeting wasn’t it? What about how I never ever listened to you about Jinx? That must have irritated you at times.” Sevika frowned taking another step back towards the door she’d came in through, but her hackles were starting to rise. “Sir...Silco. We have business to take care of today.” The tall woman had an increasingly uncomfortable idea just what was going to happen, but if she was honest a small part of her almost wanted it.

Silco rolled up one sleeve halfway up his forearm. “I can only imagine how frustrating it must be to be ignored by the man whose side you’ve stood by loyally for a good ten years even to the point of being hung to the ceiling like some pinata, and then nothing at all happening afterwards.” Moving to the other sleeve his eyes hit Sevika’s. “Oh, I just remembered something.” Head tilting just a bit he practically purred out something he had said to her in the past. “You failed. Don’t disappoint me again.” Seeing the twitch in her cheek, and her eyes starting to get that angry glare the man nodded. “That’s what I thought… You know what I sometimes miss Sevika? A good bar fight. Not to the death, or anything. Just a good beating, and whoever wins. Wins.”

That was the only warning Sevika got as Silco moved and suddenly a fist hit her side followed by another to her chin pushing her back just enough for Silco to grab her collar and use it to pull her down so his knee could strike at her chest. The first two strikes surprised Sevika, but the knee strike wasn’t quite fast enough and with a growl her mechanical arm moved clamping around his leg. “Silco…” Her organic arm came around hitting the man she worked for in the ribs, but unlike other times when sparring people this was full force. A strong and save series of hits slamming that large fist right into him hard enough that if it hadn’t been for the microdoses of Shimmer over the years he would have at least a fractured rib if not one broken.

Silco knowing just how strong her mechanical arm was leaned back even as he let out a loud grunt of pain, and kicked with his free leg to bring the heel of his foot down against it. The impact staggered Sevika, and she pushed him away hard enough he landed against his desk with another grunt as his back hit it. “Is that it? Is that the famed, and feared Iron Lioness? Maybe I should be disappointed.” Eyes gleaming, and a taunting grin on his face Silco ignored the pain in his body and the bruises forming as he quickly lunged forward. The fight descended into simply a brawl at this point.

A punch towards Sevika’s side, and a punch at Silco’s head. A strike to Sevika’s cheek as a fist slammed into Silco’s chest. Which one of them had headbutt first neither really knew, but eventually both had a broken nose and in the chaos they landed on the floor with enough force the coffee table actually gave way under them with a loud screech of splintering wood. Both would have a black eye, and be bruised and battered and an inch away from grabbing a weapon but neither wanted it to go quite that far. Each had just enough control to keep it “just” a brawl as fists hammered into the other, and for a few minutes there was nothing there except for two people who one would think were back in their twenties being rough Zaunites who’d had too much to drink and decided a fight was the best way to settle some difference or another. A punch here, and an elbow there, and a knee slamming upwards into someones groin while grunts and yells and gasps could be heard. On the ground, and then kicking away to get back to their feet before getting slammed into a wall and another desperate exchange happened of blows as both refused to give away.

Silco, lost.

One particular blow snapping his head back and landing him sprawling across the sofa with glazed eyes and the fight practically bleeding him ended the fight. Both of them were panting with noses broken, lips bleeding, punch drunk and swaying back and forth. Sevika eyed him as he blinked and shook his head. Laying his head against the back of his sofa he stared at her for a moment than laughed softly and pointed towards a bottle of whiskey. “Drinks on me. Pour us both one would you?”

Sevika let out her own laugh, and shook her head stumbling over to grab the bottle and two glasses then went to sit down next to him. “Think you might need to replace that coffee table… You put up a good fight.” Silco scoffed taking the drink she poured. “Please we both know you were always going to win that fight, but I’ve never been able to just sit down and surrender. Besides, I started it.” Taking a sip of her own drink Sevika nodded. “You did, yes.” Silco glanced at her. For a moment he almost said two little words, I’m sorry, but Silco just couldn’t quite get them out so instead he offered the next best thing. “Sevika, you deserved better.” And brought his glass up.

Glancing at Silco she shrugged and tapped her glass against his. “Maybe. Probably. So did Jinx. So did you. That’s the tragedy of this fucking place.” The two would spend the next few minutes drinking comfortably together before Silco winced as his cut open lip got a bit of alcohol in it. “We should get a med kit, and fix each other up before getting back to business…” Sevika downed the last of her drink, and stood. “Yes Sir. I’ll get it.” Moving to grab the kit in question she glanced towards him. “And Silco? I’m still here.” Silco took a long slow deep breath than offered a soft smile as the faintest hint of gratitude, and perhaps even relief came to his voice for a moment.

“Yes. Yes you are.”

[hospitalroom]

(TW// graphic descriptions of death, sui, r ment)

one of the last times we spoke , it was snowing. you were alive to witness (iirc) the first snowfall of the season. we made a promise to get through the winter, and we were both struggling really hard. you told me you would go to an outpatient treatment, and that things would be okay. you died a week later.

today is the one year anniversary of your album “Borderline”. you named it after the condition that your family gave you, worsened by the conditions you were working against. you were always so hard on yourself, but you are so irreplaceable, so universally cherished. recalling the night i sent you the above picture, during the three hour phone call we had that carried into 2AM, you said that if you died that night… i would be one of the five people you thought about before you passed, and you wanted me to know that you cared for me so deeply. i blame myself for not knowing. i didnt see it as any different than our normal, grim conversations where we spoke about taboos and things that would get us hospitalized in a heartbeat. after all, we bonded over our primal instinct to self destruct, frustrating resilience, and the hilarity of tragedy, and the complex experience of being transgender, through which we a deep understanding and compassion for one another. you thanked me for teaching you what family felt like. as lovely and transformative as that was for me, it still was deeply traumatic and continued to solidify that everyone i love is going to leave me. I guess that feeling is on brand for the guy who helped you write the description about borderline personality disorder for your album.

if you were alive today, i imagine youd be posting about how proud you were about this album. i remember you telling me about how every time you fell asleep to this album, you’d have nightmares. i remember one year ago, you hosted an album release party that i tried so hard to go to— paying $70 for a lyft or uber only for nothing to show up. instead i sat at home and cried. i have listened to the album more times than what is considered healthy for grieving. I imagine that if you were alive, i’d still be sharing your music with the people i meet with the same enthusiasm i had while you were both alive and dead, but i wouldnt have to tell your stories for you and add on the fact that theyd never be able to see you perform live or have the privilege of speaking with you. if only you couldve known how much your music would continue to reach others who are moved, impacted, inspired…. all from you & your creation.

i regret that we never got to do friendsgiving last year. im glad that i did, at the very least, text you happy new years at midnight— because you were my priority. you were never a burden to me, and i hate that you died believing you were. i carry so much of your emotions with me everywhere i go. they never really left this planet… i channel you when i can. when i picked up bass again after escaping domestic abuse, i played with the pick you gave me because it felt like the only way i could say what i needed to express when words were failing me. i lost my sister when i needed her most. i didnt know how to navigate anything that was happening— i just kept making it worse, and worse, and worse. it didnt help when i tried to chase the comfort in the grief and cling to anything that reminded me of you. (what was that one quote about red flags and red being your favorite color? lol. it does fit in here)

i remember having to endure your memorial. i remembered every single time you told me about when your parents failed you— about how they actively refused to protect you and would go out of their way to neglect you and abuse you. how your brother was no better, and how youd laugh through the bitter relief of their shallow mindedness. i miss that so much. you were stronger than me in that regard, contrary to your belief. i have been angry ever since you died. even before you died i was angry. but especially after. you were right about them deadnaming you. i wont repeat it, but you told me that when we die, regardless of what is on the headstone, theyll still say what they want to say. they told stories about how you were mentally ill, but it wasnt their fault. how you used to ride on dirt bikes and speak multiple languages, stack cups in record time, how you were so .. prepubescent. it was clear in some of the stories that you also had DID, which was not something youre very public about. But i think it does say a lot. it was also hard to listen to these stories knowing they werent sorry for any of it, having heard your mother yell at you for having a cold just a month prior, and recalling the time you tried to kill yourself and you were bleeding out from your head iirc on the bathroom floor, only for your dad (or one of your other family members, but iirc it was your dad) who didnt do anything other than leave you a pack of cigarettes in the puddle of blood. all of the recounts of what you survived just… overwhelmed me. oh my god it took everything in me to not slap the shit out of your mom or say anything. i ended up screaming outside afterwards. you deserved better.

i wish so badly things were different. i wish i didnt go to ren’s. i wouldnt have been r/ped and i couldve helped you. we couldve gotten mcdonalds and played rollercoaster tycoon or some shit. we couldve done acid together, even. you told me never to do a drug more than three times, so id be able to do it two more times with no repercussions. no matter what, we couldve been okay. i wouldn’t have had to go home, already shaken up and dissociated and try to remember what color and shape your car was . after all, if you were alive, i wouldnt have lashed out at the people in the chat who were sending memes and ignoring my messages, acting like it wasnt a literal active crisis situation. if you lived , and i was under the impression that you were in fact hospitalized, i wouldnt have been notified about two weeks later that you died. and then further alerted that i wasnt allowed to tell anyone to “respect the family “ as if they could even respect your boundaries. once again, the curse of borderline and having such an adverse reaction to injustice. i keep finding myself wishing that you were here because i want you to have lived through this— you wrote your first happy song. you rarely ever write down the happy things (that is why i posted the gathering outside your memorial when my friends + people who turned out to not be friends, rushed to check in on me.) .. we were supposed to find a place together. i was only a few months away. we could’ve done it.. this tastes so familiar. i know there’s nothing i couldve done that wouldve saved you, ultimately. but just one more day. one more week. a month. until something happened to establish a solid foundational hope. there is still no one who gets it like you do. i selfishly wish you were alive because i need you, and i miss you, and i want you here. i think i would kill just to get a hug from you again. i think things would finally feel okay. i miss seeing you like the same self help posts and memes, and seeing you post b&w selfies on your story, and i miss the pure childlike wonder i shared with you while describing the snow outside my broken window through shuddering teeth— hoe the blanket was like plush glitter and how tomorrow it will be trampled and viscous slush of mineral and whatever else is under people’s tires. i didnt think that would eventually include your remains. i have never looked at snow the same way again. it looks a little more glittery, a bit blurry like my tears are shielding me from the full weight of the memory, making no room for anything wondrous or innocent.

it’s snowing again, for the first time this winter/fall season. on the anniversary of the release day for Borderline. i fully believe you did this. i hear you, and i love you. i havent been doing so well myself. i promise i wont kill myself today, for you. i regret not making any proper appreciation post for the benefit show you hosted for me, it really did help tremendously, and i have also never been able to listen to medicine bottle the same way again. i ache for you and i am so overwhelmed by the pain. i need to return to this at a point in my life when i am not trapped on the night you died. i hope one day i can think of you without heaving a guttural sob that leaves me inconsolable. i understand what you meant about Ezra now. im so sorry. i hope youre at peace now. i will never, ever forget you.

[gotpineapple]

Under his mane (Part 6) // Tywin Lannister x Baratheon!Fem!Reader

Straightening his deep red leather coat, Tywin stared at his reflection. Today was the day he had never imagined would come again. He was to be married. For a leader he was, he was now lost. 

Years back when Joanna had had her last breath, he had almost sworn to himself to never share the intimacy of marriage with anyone, ever again. How time flew, for it was over three decades ago. 

Now he was marrying the Gentle Doe of the Stormlands. His own friend’s only daughter, whom had been almost gifted to him like a war trophy. 

Sighing he looks at the pin of the hand on his chest and gently pulls it out of his coat. Today he was not the hand of the king, but he was the ruling Lord of Casterly Rock. Setting the pin down onto his desk, wanders to the window of his chamber. 

Letting his mind wander to the woman he was going to marry, he stares at the glow of the sun. Y/n Baratheon had always been a introspective young lady from what he could remember. She had been the light of Storm’s end. Where Robert was brutish, Stannis was grim and Renly was vain, she was idealistic. 

She smiles widely and led gently but if someone doubted her competence she stood her ground and slammed her walls on with harsh cold steel. She studied to feed her curiosity and she only spoke words when she knew she was competent to say them. 

And her folly lied there. Her gentleness, insecurity and her need for perfection. 

A remarkable lady, she still is.

Huffing gently Tywin straightens himself, takes one look down at his appearance and stalks to the doors of the room.

A remarkable wife

*****

“You can still run you know”, Tyrion jokes as they stand behind the doors of the Sept. “I mean, You have longer legs than I do, they’ll catch me first and you get more time to escape”

Y/n let’s out a small huff and smiles down at the short man. “Your father has sharp eye, fast reflexes and long legs even compared to men our age, he would catch me before noon”

Shrugging Tyrion takes a hold of her hands and swings them gently between the two. “Back when people whispered about you being thrown into the lions den, I never expected it to end like this”

Squeezing his hands a little tighter, Y/n bites her lips hard. “It’s not the end, Tyrion. If anything this gives me a chance of life. A chance to get away from this city”

“Do you remember when we built that book fort in Casterly Rock? And blew all the lights out from the library to get the right setting to read about the white walkers?”

The two smile at the memory. The two of them hadn’t been kids, hell they had both been in their twenties when that happened. “It’s a miracle we never got caught, do you remember how we used to write observations of creature personalities from all the books we read of the true and mythical creatures of Westeros?” 

Tyrion’s eyes go wide. “You still have the scrap books?”

“ALL of them, even the ones of the Houses of Westeros”, Y/n smile is wide and happy as she leans down and confirms his question. There were so many of them but she could not bring herself to throw them away. 

Her drawings and their writing filling tens of notebooks that barely held together after everything they clued in. 

Their merriment is interrupted by the bells. Both of them go serious as they stand side by side and take a hold of each other’s arm. “This is it”

*****

The sept doors open and let in a stream of sunlight. The sun hits the bride’s Golden dress, as the people stare at the pair walking down the stairs. Tywin standing tall waiting for his bride to reach him. 

Whispers fill the Sept as they stare at Tyrion giving away the bride, Joffrey’s poorly hidden cackles winning all the other sounds in Y/n ears. 

Humiliation. A horrid, horrid feeling, and she wasn’t feeling it for herself, but for Tyrion. A part of her filling with guilt for making him do this. 

She catches Sansa’s reassuring smile in the crowd and her smile turns authentic for a moment. 

Soon the walk is over and they arrive at the steps. No words are passed as Y/n takes her place in front of Tywin staring into his cool green eyes. Their eyes do not part as they both study each other meticulously. In that moment, the fear and the guilt vanish from her gut. Lion does not concern himself with the opinions of a sheep. 

*****

A man and wife. Sitting in their place at the top of the hall, at their own table both eating slowly. 

“What is it about weddings that makes people so interested?”, Y/n asks quietly as they both look over to the people whispering and socializing. Some of them genuinely seeming to be having a merry time. 

“It’s the beginning of something new, the possibility of sneaking into other people’s private business and the chance to higher their own status with sweet words and grand gifts. Vanity and weaseling, that’s most of it”, Tywin answers his baritone carrying the answer with ease in all the noise. 

Huffing lightly in amusement, she turns to look at her new husband. “What an optimistic outlook. I think some people actually look at weddings as a dream of sort. The fantasy of seeing the romance of their lifetime makes them curious and giggly, not necessarily very socially pleasant but there is not always ill intent there”

“I must agree, take a look at my niece”, Tywin says and nods lightly towards his brother Kevan’s family, where his niece Janei was looking at them with starry eyes. “My brother informed me of her opinions. She seems to think it’s sweet to see ‘grumpy old Tywin’ with such a sweet woman. The naivety of children seems to carry on quite a while”

Y/n giggles at his phrasing and gives a smile to Janei. Young kids were so innocent. If only that could last. “There is nothing wrong in a little escape from all the horror”

“Once you accept the state of the world, the faster you’ll get used to it. Trying to escape it, only makes it harder”, the older man says sharply turning to look at the lady next to him with a grim look. 

“Escaping in your head does not mean you lack information or acceptance. Some people need that contrast to be able to fight back the horrors with more energy and perseverance”, The Gentle doe argues back voice still low and soft. 

For a moment they just look at each other, Tywin’s face grim while Y/n still remained smiling. After a while Tywin gives a slight nod. 

“Let’s dance as man and wife before my grandson decides to try to steal you away”

*****

At the same time on the other side of the World. 

”I see the way you look at the Targaryen girl”, Ser Barristan says to Jorah as they ride side by side towards Yunkai. ”I’ve seen that look on your face before ser Jorah”, he continues nonchalantly blowing a hair out of his face in the burning heat.

Jorah Mormont had always been a man who felt deeply. He cared truly and deeply, and he was not afraid to fight for things or people he cared about. But when it came to the women in his life, he felt shy. He felt undeserving.

He was but a regular knight, out of his prime. He knew he had no chances with women such as Daenerys. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from caring or dreaming for the impossible. Like he once had.

”It is my duty to care for her wellbeing and keep an eye on her, especially with the people are now trying to benefit from her”, Jorah answers keeping his face stoic. Their carefree conversations forgotten, both of them steering their horses a further away from the riding party.

”Was it your duty to name Lady Baratheon the Queen of Love and Beauty back in Lannisport?”, Ser Barristan asks sharply. He might have come to serve Daenerys Targaryen but Y/n Baratheon was someone he was willing to speak for. The way she treated people, her inferiors, spoke of her spirit, and that spirit was gentle and wise.

”That was over a decade ago Barristan”, the disowned heir of Bear island growls quietly. The sleepless nights he had had because of the Gentle Y/n Baratheon. The sound of her sweet laugh, the depth of her imagination and all the crazy ideals she spoke of during their strolls around the Red Keep. How he had longed to know the things she wrote in her notebooks. How he longed for her to trust him and share her soul with him as he laid his heart bare for her.

”Yet it seems to be an open wound”

Jorah sighs as Barristan’s comment, closing his eyes for a bare second as the other man continues. ”I saw her wither when you married Lynesse, it came as a surprise to all”, Barristan presses looking at Jorah pointedly.

Taking his other other hand away from the reins Jorah runs his hand over his face. ”And do you think that Stannis would have given me his only sister? An old bear from a small northern house? You make me laugh if you do”, Jorah argues quietly. There was no joy in his blue eyes as he stares down his past friend.

”Then laugh”, is the simple answer he gets as he bites down his lower lip.

Jorah shakes his head and stays quiet for a minute. The longing he had buried rising up all over. Finally he opens his mouth to whisper: ”Even the songs would have mocked it. They already do! Ever heard of the bear and the maiden fair? That’s just how it was”

“Great Lion and the maiden fair, sounds more reassuring doesn’t it, my friend?”

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[raineydays411]

Trauma really does bond

The umbrella academy x teen!reader

Summary: It’s time for you to meet your siblings. But what happen when your introductions don’t exactly go as planned?

You were trembling as you walked behind Pogo and Grace. Its ironic, you’ve waited your whole life for this moment. To finally meet your siblings and expand your family. A childish hope of your siblings one day returning to the mansion and accepting you with open arms. 

But now that you actually have a chance to meet them, you’re terrified. You realized that you have no idea how to talk to people. It’s different than when you talk to Pogo or your mother. These are complete strangers. No matter how many stories you’ve been told, how many times you read Vanyas book, you truly didn’t know these people. How were you meant to be a family? How are you supposed to-

“Y/n? Dear?” 

You’re snapped from your thoughts by your mother calling you.

“Yes, momma?”

“Momma? Pogo, who’s that?”

You turn, again surprised by an unfamiliar voice. There she was. Alison Hargreeves. She’s beautiful. 

Her hair is curly and blonde, with beautiful high cheekbones and glowing brown skin. Her as were kind even as she squinted at you skeptically in confusion.

“Alison, this is Y/n Hargreeves, or Number Eight. She’s your sister.”

Grace again gives you a light nudge, and you move in front of her. It was then that you realized that you are shorter than Alison, having to glance up to meet her eyes. 

“My sister?” She looks at you in disbelief, “How come we didn’t know? This wasn’t mentioned by the press or anything...” 

“Your father decided to keep our dear Y/n a secret.” Grace said wrapping her arm around you, “ She’s been our little secret for 17 years and 4 months.” 

“A secret? But why? I mean, what was the reason?”

“Your father, believed that the world wasn’t ready for a new superhero. Nor was Y/n ready to face the world.” Pogo said with a grim face, “ He had hoped though, that one day he would be able to take her out...but it seems that for now, Y/n shall remain inside.”

You frowned, holding back tears at the thought. You didn’t know that your father had wanted to let you out, nor that he wanted to be there when you were. But, what truly upset you, was that you had to stay in the mansion. Freedom was at the tip of your fingers and you didn’t even know it.

“Stay inside? You mean she’s never been outside?” Alison said horrified.

“Well she has been out in the courtyard and such, but Mr. Hargreeves prohibited her to leave the premises. Nor was she allowed to be in contact with the citizens”

“She’s been here all alone?” Alison asks sadly, “ With no one to talk to? No one her age?” 

“I’m afraid not” Pogo says sadly, looking at you.

You didn’t understand the big deal. Of course you were lonely, and wanted to explore the world, but you knew why you had to stay. You can just hear your fathers words.

“You have a duty Number Eight. A duty to your people and to me. It may not be ideal but sacrifices are hardly ideal.”

And everytime you thought about leaving, you’d remember his words and stay put. Besides you wouldn’t dare disobey your father.

Not after the last time.

“Well,” Alison says gently, leaning down to your eye level, “ Hello Y/n, I’m Alison Hargreeves, your big sister.”

Your eyes widened at her words as your heart filled with joy. For so many years  you imagined those words. You wondered how this whole thing would play out, how meeting your siblings might be. And to hear Alison so readily accept you, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Hello, Alison” You say beaming as you carefully step forward, “ I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, Momma says you live in California, what is it like?” 

Alison smiles at your question, your demeanor like a small child. It reminded her of Claire...

“It’s very nice, maybe when we have time I’ll be able to tell you all about it.” 

Your smile widens as you turn to your mother excitedly, she smiles back and says, “ That sounds wonderful dear, but you should go and change. You know the rules. You don’t want your father finding you in your night clothes, now would you?”

You furrow your brows,” Momma...”

“No buts now march” She says with a grin. You smile at Alison but see the worried look on her face. 

“So she did notice how weird momma acting” You think to yourself. You stay in a daze as you walk towards your room. Worrying about your mother, grieving your father, and thinking about how you’re finally meeting all your siblings. Then as you turn a corner into the hallway that leads to your room, you’re knocked to the ground as you bump into a wall of a body.

“Ow!” you squeal as you hit the ground, rubbing the back of your head and peering up at the person you bumped into.

“Uh..sorry Y/n” 

“Luther!” You shout, your pain overridden by the happiness you felt at seeing your brother, one that actually knows you exist.

He helps you up, which to him is like picking up a feather, and  before he knew it, your arms are wrapped around his midsection. Luther awkwardly pats your back, not really expecting to be hugged.

“It's great to see you Luther! I read all your mission reports, or rather the ones that Father let me read. I always wished you good night though! Pogo always caught me looking at the moon with that telescope, I hope you don’t mind that I used it. It's just that I missed you so-” Your happy ramblings cut off by a Luther clearing his throat.

“Ahem...right, um hey Y/n, I gotta go...check on something.” He says gently pushing you away, “It was nice seeing you though.”

And with that he walks away, leaving you in the hallway as you stare at his retreating form.

“oh...okay then! I’ll see...see you later.” You say, disheartened by his brief acknowledgement. You sigh, walking into your room. 

“I don’t know why I try...” You mumble to yourself. “ It’s not like he was ever happy to see me before.”

You go into your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Usually, Grace picked out your outfits, ordered by your father, but she didn’t leave anything out for you today. So, you settled for a black turtleneck sweater, a black and white plaid skirt, black knee high socks with some mary janes. It wasn’t really your go to look, but you felt like it was appropriate given the circumstance. You let your hair loose, curls falling into your face as you let it out of the bun you quickly put it in. 

You go to walk out of the room when you’re stopped by a gleam. You see the necklace your father gave to you after the incident. You stare at it, debating on whether you should put it on or not. You sigh, deciding to wear it, it was his funeral after all. You put it on, the cold metal never truly seem to heat up, the pendant heavy on your chest. You never grew attached to it. It just served as a reminder that you’re stuck in the mansion. You can never leave. Not until he let you and now...

You shake your head. Trying not to get into your thoughts, that's when you heard it. Little scratching at your window. You turn to see Despereaux, the little mouse  you saved when you were younger. Ever since that day it was like you and him formed a bond.

You open the window excited to see your little friend.

“Hello Despereaux, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” You whisper as you let him climb on to your shoulder. “ you’ve missed quite a bit since I’ve last seen you. How about some cheese?”

You walk out of your room, Despereaux nestled on your shoulder. As you walk through the long hallways, you bump into another body.

“Ouch, again?” You whisper to yourself, rubbing your forehead.

“Hey watch it...teenage girl?” A male voice said in a perplexed tone. 

You look up to see a man in some rather tight clothes and kohl ringed eyes.

“Hello” You quietly mutter with a soft smile. “I’m Y/n”

“You are adorable.” The man says, “ Where has the old man been hiding you?” 

You blush looking down at your feet, you were never really complimented. Only by Grace.

“ Aww” The man squeals, squishing you to his body. He smelled like booze and sweat but the hug was nice, “ I have no idea who you are but I’m your uncle Klaus from now on.”

“You’re Klaus?” You say excitedly, “ I’m so glad to meet you!” 

You wrap your arms around him, feeling the outline of something hard and metal in the back of his pants. You ignored it though, happy to meet another one of your siblings.

“Ugh it’s so nice to be around someone who isn’t a total stick in the mud.” Klaus says letting go of you, “ Like Luther, all that rage in that big body” 

You giggle at his words and eccentric behavior. It was a stark contrast to the ridgid stoic behavior that you’re used to. Klaus’ grand gestures and silly nature was new to you.

“I’ve heard alot about you.” You say happily, “ Mama always tells me stories about how you used to steal  her shoes and skirts and Father said--”

“Father?” Klaus asked, “ You mean ol’ Reggie bought you too? Or are you like..his offspring? Eww! I don’t want to think about that, shut up Ben.”

Ben?

“Father adopted me, I was born with powers like you.” You clarify for him. 

“Huh, so he managed to create another trauma case before he croaked.” Klaus said in a light voice, “Well. I always wanted a little sister.”

You smile, glad that at least two of your siblings liked you. But what did he mean by trauma case.

“Anywho, I have some... inheritance I need to collect. I, will see you at the funeral, das Kind” 

And with a wiggle of his fingers he was off, gone as quick as when you met him. Leaving you yet again, alone. You shrug off his odd behavior when you heard two voices speaking. 

“ah no, not to my knowledge.”

“But..the spine is broken and there's notes in the margins.”

“ Yes, that would be the work of.. ah Y/n, there you are.”

You jump in surprise, although you should’ve know. You can never eavesdrop with Pogo around.

You walk down the stairs, slowly towards Pogo and.. Vanya!

Out of all the siblings, she’s the one you wanted to meet the most. She, like you was isolated in this mansion. You felt a connection to her as soon as you were able to pick up that book. Your heart raced as you made it to the final step, reaching the first flower and into the living room where Vanya and Pogo were talking. You can see that she is shocked, as all your other siblings were.

“Pogo, who is this?” 

“Go ahead dear, introduce yourself. Just like you practiced.”

You smile widely, “Hi I’m Y/n Hargreeves, I love your book. I’ve read it almost five times now.  You’re Vanya! I’ve been waiting to meet you! You look exactly like the picture on the back of the book! It really is a good book, I-”

“Y/n, take a breath. Let her get a word in.” Pogo chuckled, glad to see that you’re comfortable around Vanya. 

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, father did always say I..tend to talk to much” You say looking down at your shoes. You didn’t notice the frown on both Pogo and Vanyas face.

“You...you read my book?” Vanya asked, still trying to figure out who you are.

“Yes, multiple times. It...well, besides the stories Mama and Pogo told me, this was the only way I got to know all of you.”

“Why didn’t you just come find us?” 

“Oh well..I wasn’t really allowed outside”, you say glancing at Pogo, “ Father said the world and I weren’t ready for each other.”

“You mean, you’ve been alone...all these year?”

“No, not totally alone! I had Pogo, and Mama, and and father too. Plus there were the robots he built, although I did destroy them...and the books and and..”

“Y/n...that’s..that’s not..” Vanya stopped herself. She knew that this must be a sensitive subject for you. The way you listed everyone in your life was practiced. Like you’ve said it to yourself over and over again. And by the grim look on Pogos face, she can tell it wasn’t only you who was sensitive about this subject.

“Well, Y/n..perhaps you should go on in the kitchen and help your mother. Your siblings will be meeting here shortly, it would be nice if they had some snacks, don’t you agree?” Pogo says, forcing a smile at you.

“Oh! Okay” You beam, “ It was nice meeting you Vanya!” 

And with that you scurry off into the kitchen, leaving Vanya and Pogo behind in silence.

“She’s been alone for...” 

“For seventeen years. Yes”

“Pogo...”

“You know your father...once he made up his mind...there was little I can do.”

Vanya sighs and pats Pogo on the shoulder, “It’s good to see you Pogo.”

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

You skip into the kitchen, seeing your mother humming at the sink. You walk up to her and notice that she’s cleaning the same plate over and over again.

“Hi momma!” you say suddenly

“Oh, hello dear. What are you doing in here?” Grace asks putting the plate in the drying rack.

Pogo said it would be nice to make snacks for my siblings” You ask, then feeling movement around your neck, “Oh and some cheese please.”

You forgot Despereaux was on your shoulder, its a wonder that no one has seen him yet.

“hmm snacks we can do.” Grace says with a smile. She goes to the fridge and pulls out some cheese.

“How about some cheese and crackers? Its simple.” she says, “ ans Despereaux here can have his fill as well”

You freeze, caught again by your mother, “ Thanks momma.” 

You both giggle, and side by side you work on cutting the cheese and presenting the crackers. You feel a sense of calm wash over you. You usually do when you’re around your mother. She makes you feel safe. 

“Ahem.” 

You both turn to see Diego in the kitchen doorway.

“Diego dear, you startled us.” Grace said with a smile, “ Come help, we’re making you kids some snacks.”

He barely spares a glance at you.

“Pogo wanted me to come tell you that the meetings starting.”

“Oh, well go on darling, run along and I’ll bring out the snacks later.”

And with that she kisses your forehead and waves you away. She turns back to the  sink and starts humming again. 

You glance back at Diego. He’s glaring at the wall and to be honest you’re surprised he even waited for you. You pick up Despereaux and put him on your shoulder again, and grab some grapes and cheese then stuff it in your skirt pocket. Then you walk up to Diego with a small smile. 

He glances at you and scoffs, then walks away. You have to jog to catch up to him.

“You uh, you walk pretty fast” You say huffing a bit. 

He doesn’t answer you, he just keeps walking in the same pace. You stay silent as well, the trip to the living room longer than you remember.

You finally make it, and you see all your siblings in the room, spread out. You take a seat next to Vanya. You smile at her and take a glance around the room. Luther is sat at the couch across from you and Vanya. Allison and Diego are sat on some chairs, and Klaus is at the bar. 

The six of you sit in an awkward silence until Luther clears his throat.

“ So I guess we should get this started.” He says standing up, “ So I figured we can have sort of a memorial service. At the courtyard at sundown, say a few words. At dad’s favorite spot.”

You nod along and hear Alison speak up, “ Dad had a favorite spot?”

“Yeh at the oak tree, we used to sit out there all the time. None of you did that?” Luther asks.

“Oh yeah, after training” you chime in, causing the adults to look at you. You heard Diego scoff again and saw Luther quickly furrow his brow then smooth out his face again.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asks walking out from behind the bar, “ Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.” 

He goes to take a seat next to you when Luther speaks up

“What? No, and put that out. You know dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

You roll your eyes. If you had to choose one thing to hate about Luther, you’d choose his insistent need to always be on your Father's good side. He can be such a downer sometimes.

“Is that my skirt?”

You hadn’t even noticed Klaus in the skirt. If you had to be honest, it did really suit him. You let out a small laugh, hearing Klaus mention his “bits”.

“Listen up.”

Oh boy, you’ve heard this tone before. You really forgot how stern Luther could be.

“There’s still some important things that we need to discuss alright ?”

“Um Luther” you squeak out, “ what more is there to talk about? Its not like Father had many friends we can invite. And his only family is us...”

“Yeah. The kids right, what else is there to discuss?” Diego asks.

You turn to him in surprise, this is basically the first time he acknowledged you unprompted. You send him a smile that, as expected, he ignores.

Oh well, small steps.

“ The way he died.”

“ And here we go”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “the way he died?”

Klaus sits next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as Vanya speaks up,

“I don’t understand, I thought they said it was a heart attack...”

“A heart attack?” You ask, realizing that no one’s really did tell you how your father died..

You’re question gained a suspicious look from Luther and confusion from the rest.

“ Y/n...you didn’t know?” Alison asked gently.

“ no one told me...” You say quietly, feeling nervous from the sudden attention.

“Well, According or to the coroner it was.” Luther continues.

“Well wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically..”

“Theoretically??”

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why nobody told you how your father died. You don’t understand why everyone was acting weird. And you don’t understand why Luther was bringing this up.

You feel a hand on your forearm, breaking you from your thoughts. You turn your head to see Klaus.

“ you lost in space?” He whispers playfully, “ I would be too, having to listen to Detective Daddy issues over here.”

You let out a small chuckle and whisper back, “ well technically we all have daddy issues.”

This earned you a quiet laugh and a pat on the arm. Then Klaus went to drink whatever was in his cup. And you tuned in again.

“ i’m just saying at the very least something happened. ” Luther says looking around the room, “ The last time I talk to dad he sounded strange.”

“Oh quelle surprise!” Klaus gurgles through his drink.

The rest of the adult ignored him, only sparing him a quick glance.

“Strange how?” Alison asked, continuing the conversation.

“ he sounded on edge”, Luther said, “ told me to be careful who to trust.”

He then gave you pointed look. You looked back at him perplexed, not knowing why he looked at you that way.

“Luther,” Diego chimed in, “ he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles. ”

You frown at that statement. Sure your father was old and sort of eccentric, but his mind was sharp.

But come to think of it he was acting really weird the week before he died. He started telling you more about your siblings, about your place in the world and how you were meant to help it. He spent more time with you more than he ever has your whole life. He was, in his own way, nicer to you. Nicer in training, nicer on your free time, nicer in general. He took you out to the old oak tree more often, and just sat there with you, no lectures, no tirades, he just sat in silence.

It was almost like... like he knew he was going to die. 



“I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like, “ hey dad can you stop playing tennis with Hitler really quick and take a quick call?’” Klaus says exasperatedly.

Oh right you forgot, he can talk to ghosts.

“ since when? that’s your thing.” Luther asks

“ i’m not in the right... Frame of mind!!” 

“ You’re high?” Alison asks

“Yeah!” Klaus laughs, “ Who wouldn’t be listening to this nonsense. Right kiddo?”

He nudged you gently look at you for confirmation.

Your eyes widen and before you can even answer Diego cut you off,

“ Don’t bring her in this, she probably isn’t even know what being high is.”

You most certainly do. You’re not a child.

“ Look, just sober up this is important!” Luther demands , then continues on, “ and then there’s the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about the missing monocle?” Diego mutters.

“ Father is missing his monocle?” You ask, getting ignored again.

“Exactly, it’s worthless.” Luther states, “ so whoever took it it must’ve been personal.”

The group starts to actually pay attention to him

“ Someone close to him, someone with a grudge.” He determines.

Wait...he’s not implying..

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus asks

“Oh, isn’t obvious Klaus?” Diego taunts, “ He thinks one of us killed dad.”

Luther grunts, but doesn’t deny his accusation.

The room goes silent as everyone tries to come to terms with what was revealed.

“ Luther...” you start sadly, feeling hurt and betrayed.

“You do?” Klaus asks in disbelief

“How could you think that?” Vanya chimes in

“ is it really that far-fetched?” Luther defends himself, “ I mean, it’s not secret how much you all hate him.”

“Luther.” Alison says sternly

“ That’s not fair accusation, there’s no evidence or anything...” you say defending your siblings, “ Besides, no one came home until today. Trust me, I’d know.”

But that just turned him on you 

“ And where were you when he died?”

Your breath hitched, “ what?”

“ You’re the one who can heal people right? So where were you? Why didn’t you heal him?” He demands, “ Or did you let him die?”

“ Luther!” Alison shouts at him

You stay silent as you can’t think of anything to say. You already felt horrible about not being able to save your father. But yo hear it from Luther...

“I..” you start to say but get choked up. You feel the walls close up around you and the heavy gaze of these adults. You quickly stand up and run out of the room sniffing.

It was then that Luther realized what he just accused you of.

“Y/n wait..” he starts but you’re already gone by the time he spoke up. He turns to the rest of his siblings, facing their glares and betrayed looks.

“ Great job Luther.” Diego says sarcastically, “ Way to lead.”

And with that he walks out the room.

“That’s..that’s not what I’m saying”

“You’re crazy man. You’re crazy.” Klaus said getting up from his spot and grabbing his things. “Crazy”

“I..I wasn’t finished”

“ Okay, sorry I’m just gonna go get Y/n and have her help me murder mom.” Klaus sneers, “ You know, after I get her to stop crying, be right back.”

“That’s not what I was saying!” Luther says, “ I didn’t—“ he cuts himself off, seeing as everyone but Alison left.

Then she gets up to leave, but says this

“ That little girl has had it rough enough growing up here, she doesn’t need anymore from you.”

Then she walks out ignoring what Luther tries to say.

Leaving him all alone.

“That went well.”



[blzzrdstryr]

Signed in blood

Yandere!Zhongli x Yaksha!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2541

CW: Yandere themes, mentioned violence and death, unhealthy power dynamics

Long before Liyue’s borders had been established and the harbor bloomed into the prosperous city that it is today, the Geo Lord, Rex Lapis gathered all lesser deities and spirits dwelling in the current nation’s territory and concluded a contract with most of them, ensuring the protection of his country and people. Some of them signed a contract out of fear before archon’s power, some did it for mutual benefit and some out of gratitude and deep reverence. You are in the latter category, a simple forest spirit that was saved from the distorted monsters left after the archon war by his grace and power alone.

It was a simple day when you felt an enormously malicious energy surrounding your green abode, and soon they showed up, killing intent and will of dead archons seeping out of them. You were fast and agile enough to dodge creatures' hits, which couldn't be said about the others. Your fellow spirits and animals with whom you were sharing this forest soon fell victim to the perpetrators' attacks. Dark energy entered and desecrated the lands, poisoned the waters and even possessed the bodies of your old friends.

You were running away, fatigue finally catching up to you, despite the inhuman nature and you soon fell to the ground. There were a myriad of thoughts and feelings reeling inside of you - grief for your now dead friends and home, anger at the monsters and most importantly frustration with yourself. You aren’t human, not a single part of you is, so why were you so weak and helpless, unable to do anything as you left your loved ones for slaughter and massacre?

Guilt and shame washed over you, as you allowed tears to burst free - you were bad, you were disgusting for not doing anything, not helping anyone. Monstrous roars and growls got closer, a promise and a threat of what will happen to you. You closed your eyes, accepting the imminent end and bracing for the upcoming pain. And then the most unexpected thing happened - the earth underneath you vibrated, tremors knocking the beasts off their feet, as a tall basalt pillar rose from the ground.

Soon the stranger appeared, ending the monsters in one swift and elegant slash of his spear. He donned an otherwise simple white attire adorned with golden threads, with a long ponytail showing from the hood, but the most eye-catching details were piercing amber eyes and the glowing patterns all over his body of the same colour. You forgot how to breathe for a second as you watched your unexpected savior - he was beyond handsome, possessing the kind of beauty that would have mortals blushing and stuttering.

He then looked around, finally noticing your sprawled form. “Are you all right?”he asked, his tranquil and calm voice tinted by the shadow of concern and lending his hand. “I am”, you sputtered out and took an outstretched limb, feeling infinitely clumsy and ugly, face heating up from embarrassment. “That is good”, his voice despite still possessing the same serenity took a warmer tone.

As you learned later, you were saved by one of the seven remaining archons, a lord of geo. Filled with shame for your dishonorable escape and gratitude for your unforeseen salvation you signed the tightest contract with Rex Lapis - a blood written pact.

Unlike the contracts mortals establish, a contract between two immortal beings lacks the parchment or ink or a signature, they use magic and techniques that echo directly into their soul, preventing even the possibility of the terms' violation. Blood written pact binds to the vital essences of one, an ancient magic flaring up once the contractor intends to break the agreement, stopping and warning them of what's to come once they do breach it.

Your blood sizzled and boiled as you pledged your life to Liyue, magic singing in your veins and resonating with your soul - Rex Lapis saw the potential in you to be a great warrior and designated you to serve him as one of the yakshas, so you obeyed, training your body and spirit to withstand the endless calamities you no doubt will have to face. One day, after a grueling training you almost gave up, but forced yourself past your limits. I must redeem myself and repay Rex Lapis, you thought, gritting your teeth and taking a battle stance again, and then a miracle happened: a blue glowing orb materialized in the air - a vision bestowed by the hydro archon.

Sometimes you still reminisce about this moment and recite the oath you gave back then - I pledge my life to the protection of the Liyue nation and the will of Geo Archon, Rex Lapis for all the centuries to come.

Soon, you ended your training and started to protect Liyue just like other four adeptis all of whom were also saved by the Geo Lord. For centuries you five defended the nation as it bloomed and grew into something that you couldn't even imagine. And even after centuries of slaughter as your karmic debt started to slowly eat you from inside, slowly, but surely devouring your sanity by the smallest pieces you always found strength to move forward by recalling your first meeting with Rex Lapis, reverence before your God and guilt before the dead driving you further and further.

With time a dull, yet constant pain made its way into your bones. Sometimes it would make your eyes fill with unshed tears, sometimes wake you up in those rare times you slept without nightmares, sometimes it made your hands tremble, almost dropping the weapon in the middle of the battle. You couldn’t suppress and endure it like Xiao does, letting out a pained whimper here and there, yet you still upheld your duty to the Liyue. It almost felt like routine, until two awful events happened: the death and defection.

The fear and hatred of all those who fell victims to your weapons were slowly seeping in your minds, driving you mad with bloodlust. It all happened so quickly: you were watching out for other demons as Bonanus and Pervases were patching up Alatus after the intense battle, while Bosacius looked at the other front, weapons ready, and then Bonanus lashed out, aiming for Xiao's neck. The anemo yaksha quickly darted to the side, but the weapon still grazed the copper bird's neck, his blood forming a quickly growing pool underneath. You had to put the bloodlusted yaksha yourself, something inside of you breaking as you did so - it was one thing to stand against hordes of demons and monsters and it was another to kill your friend.

You couldn’t talk or look into the eyes of the other two after that, despising yourself for yet another failure - first your forest, then your friends, you were helpless to save anyone. And then Bosacius left, you had no idea where he vanished, but these two events prompted Rex Lapis to visit both you and Xiao, as yakshas shrinked in numbers from five to two in less than a week.

You kneel before the Geo archon when you notice his tall figure between the ancient trees - unlike Xiao, you prefer to live in the woods, the familiarity of nature reminiscent of a home you once lost. Your Lord ushers you to stand up, his face solemn and grim.

“[First]”, he starts, exhaustion evident in each syllable: "For centuries you protected my Harbor, and despite turbulent times passing you still uphold your duty. I find that admirable".

Your eyes go wide and you turn your head, unable to receive such high praise from your God, you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, acknowledgement of your hard work, and even constant pain or the death and disappearance of your colleagues became less serious of the issue for a mere moment.

"I am not worthy of such praise, my lord, I am only doing my job, fulfilling the contract", you deflect, looking at him again. Archon's eyes crease a little and a small frown appears as you say "contract", yet he quickly wills his face into an impassive mask.

"I suppose I made a mistake when I asked you to be my yaksha back then, I have misjudged your worth ", he continues, voice becoming distant and strangely tense, as he reminisces about the days long past, amber eyes looking both at and through you.

"My lord, I…", you start and then stumble over the words, unsure what to say next. Is this his way of telling you that you're bad at your job? You cast your head down, eyes lowered in shame, hands that spilled adeptus' blood trembling and burning. "I am deeply sorry for letting you down in that way, I will do my best to redeem myself from now on” .

A warm hand touches your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in a comforting manner. His palm is warm and firm, comforting in its steadiness like a tall cliff standing proudly against the raging tides, indestructible and reliable.

"You have no reason to apologize for this. Something like this would inevitably happen sooner or later, you have no fault in the events that occured. I suppose karmic debt would drive one of you insane eventually".

He sounds calming, reassuring, like a parent soothing a child. You still don’t lift your head to meet his gaze - you’re too guilty and unworthy to do that. There are no words you can speak now, not when you have been so thoroughly destroyed by your lord’s kindness - how can he look at you and see someone innocent?

“No, I meant that all those centuries ago, when I first met you I didn’t discern the gem hidden in the crude ore” he adopts reminiscent tone again, his hand now moving on your shoulder in slow and steady rhythm: “I knew I wanted you to be by my side, I didn’t know who I wanted you to be though. I needed time to understand my own feelings and the way I viewed you, and then I needed some more time to accept those sentiments”.

“What sentiments, my lord?”, you ask, finally looking up to him, brows slightly frowned in confusion and curiosity - it’s rare to see the Geo archon talk about his inner workings so openly, as he usually prefers to keep a cordial distance or masterfully redirects the conversation into a completely different direction.

“Over the years, as you protected my nation and my people, I finally understood it”, his hand shifts from your shoulder and now he cups your own two palms in a firm yet gentle hold: “I cherish you, [First]”.

The sudden declaration leaves you stunned and speechless for a good minute: you look at your god with wide eyes, mouth opening several times like a fish out of water. A myriad of thoughts and feelings go through you: confusion, disbelief, inferiority.

“I… That is very sudden for me to… learn about your affections”, you finally utter, forgetting to add respectful “my lord” at the end. Your voice comes off as small and hesitant as you say so. Rex Lapis doesn’t seem to mind your confusion as he takes a second to collect his own thoughts.

“The yaksha title I have burdened you with takes a toll both on your mind and your body. I severely miscalculated, so I want to redeem this mistake”, he sounds regretful now, one hand moving to caress and cup your face. You go stiff, still overwhelmed by the whole conversation. “I can free you from your contract if you decide to become my life companion”.

“But, my lord, it’s so sudden I can’t just..”

“Hush, I won’t pressure you into an intimate relationship right away. No, we will wait and learn about each other and once you will be comfortable enough to let me enter your life and your heart we will marry, uniting our fates with a contract that shall never end”.

You lower your head again, but this time in contemplation instead of guilt and shame. What do you feel for Rex Lapis? Admiration - he is a powerful deity, capable enough to flatten mountains and raise new ones with a single slash of his spear. Gratitude - he was the one that saved you and sheltered you, until you grew strong enough, he gave you a reason to live when you had none. Respect - he is a capable leader, smart enough to build a foundation and guide people of the most magnificent nation in Teyvat.

You feel no love for him, not the kind of love he wants anyway. You know about his patience and how affections sometimes take years to finally mature and bloom, but the thought of spending decades, maybe even centuries in hopes that one day you will reciprocate is nauseating to you.

How do you feel about it? A part of you wants it - it’s an easy way out to get rid of the pain, of the fear and bloodshed, of the death that clings to you at every waking moment. You remember how you spend most of your nights sleepless, drowsiness leaving you the same second you dream of blood and carnage and massacre. You remember your whole body throbbing and burning on especially bad days, when even Remedium Tertiorum can’t do its job. You remember crying and gasping for air after the weight of the slaughtered gets too heavy for you to handle.

You almost say yes, out of these reasons alone, but you stop yourself - you think of Xiao, of how lonely he will become once you leave. You think of heartfelt smiles that mortals gift you with on those rare occasions you have to save them. You think of the slaughtered spirits before whom you still have to atone to.

“I am sorry, my lord” You look him straight in the eyes, bracing yourself for the words you are about to say: “I can’t match your feelings, nor can I accept your offer, not now at least”.

Amber eyes lose their warmth in the instance, the comforting aura he was exuding earlier replaced by the weird tension between you two. Looking at this image, you suddenly remember how ruthless Rex Lapis can be on the battlefield as for a fraction of the second he looks at you as you’re an enemy.

A horrible pain shoots right through your body, and your short scream follows. You fall on the floor, gasping for air, deaf and blind from the overwhelming pain. Geo archon quickly takes your form, carrying you to your sleeping place, as you try your best to breathe and not cry.

“It must be a blood pact acting up, the magic must have taken your refusal as disobedience to the contract”, he says once the agony lightens, enough for you to focus on the conversation, “you did pledge your life to my will”.

You try to half sit on your elbow, to look him in the eyes and say something other than the pained groans and whimpers, as his next words instill a sense of quiet dread in you:

“I hope you will rethink and take back your words out of your own volition, [First]. I would hate to order you to”.

[kuroopaisen]

impulse | fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi can't hold it in anymore. gn!reader. 1.4k

Megumi’s tense. He always is, around you.

Although, he usually doesn’t feel like his heart is about to hammer its way out of his chest at any given moment. No, that’s reserved for when you’re touching him.

And you’re doing just that, sat together in the alarmingly muggy infirmary as you tend to his wounds.

He’d be the first to admit that he could’ve left his last fight in better shape, but that isn’t quite how things played out. It’s a rather diverse set of injuries – some cuts on his forehead, a small gash along his chin, scratches on his knuckles, his palms, and his fingers… Typical fare.

He’d managed to clean his face before you’d come bursting into the infirmary, eyes ablaze with worry and rebuke. But you’d spared him the lecture, far too worried about the general state of him than anything else.

It’s late afternoon, and Megumi knows you should be relaxing by now. You deserve it. Instead you’re here, with him, playing nurse. The sun sets outside the window, bathing you in unfairly flattering golden light. It makes you hard to look at.

But if you notice Megumi’s apprehension, you say nothing. You’re too focused on his hands.

“You need to stop being so reckless,” you murmur, fingers brushing against his as you finish bandaging his knuckles.

Megumi grimaces. He’s not sure how, but you always seem to know when he’s been injured. Even if he’s making an active effort to keep it a secret from you – in a misguided attempt on his part to spare you the anxiety – you always find him.

And every time he tries to play his injuries off, every time he tries to tell you that he’s fine, really, it’s worse than it looks, you just glare at him with those aggravatingly expressive eyes of yours, your anger thinly veiling your heavy worry.

Today, however, his injuries don’t look too bad compared to the usual. Regardless, you worry. It makes him feel so… so…

He sighs heavily, too exhausted to even begin untangling the thoughts burning in his brain.

Your eyes are bright as you smile at him with a hint of mischief. “About to start brooding, hm?”

“No,” he grumbles.

You chuckle, your entire face lighting up with a smile. Megumi swears his heart constricts.

He doesn’t want you to worry. Every time you look at him with those sad eyes, asking him ‘what happened’, he can’t help but feel like a piece of shit. You shouldn’t be spending your time worrying about him. He doesn’t even know why you do.

“There you go,” you sigh, holding his hand with both of yours as you inspect your handiwork. Your hands feel so soft against his fingertips, warm yet not overwhelming. The thought of them obscures anything more logical.

“Thank you,” Megumi swallows, drawing his hand out of yours a little too hastily. He turns his hand over to admire your work. As usual, you’ve done an excellent job at wrapping his wounds. Firm, but not so tight it’ll disrupt blood flow.

“You don’t have to do this,” he sighs, flexing his fingers. They’re still a bit stiff, but they’re better than they were a couple of hours ago.

“I know,” you hum nonchalantly, tilting your head at him. “You need to stop saying that.”

Megumi resists the urge to flare his nostrils like a bull in some matador show. He feels like you’re always doing this for him; he’s not as reckless as Itadori, but he knows he’s still too blasé for your liking.

But that’s just how you are.

Soft. Gentle. Too kind for your own good.

Certainly not cut out for this world of violence.

Megumi’s eyes darken at the thought. He can’t help but wonder if it weren’t for him, for Itadori, for Kugisaki, then maybe you’d walk away. Maybe you’d be free from this grim waking nightmare. Maybe you could live as a normal teenager, worried about average adolescent things and crying over inane little dramas.

No fighting. No suffering. No death. That’s the life you deserve.

“Hey,” you murmur, eyes downcast as you fiddle with the hem of your jacket. “I… I don’t want to make assumptions or anything, but… if you’re worried about being a burden, you’re not.”

Megumi’s breath catches in his throat and his eyes widen.

“I-I mean, burden might be the wrong word, but…” You bumble, gaze firmly affixed to your own lap. “I just mean that sometimes you… you seem to feel… guilty, and I don’t want you to.”

Megumi swallows roughly, unable to take his eyes off your face. You look so… reticent. Like you’re afraid of saying something you’ll regret. How can he say that he doesn’t want you to be careful?

“I…” You break the tension with a sound almost no louder than a whisper. “I care about you,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.

It’s not unusual for you to get Megumi’s heart racing. Sometimes a smile from you is enough to make his pulse quicken.

You’re cute, yes, but Megumi knows it runs a little deeper than that.

And sometimes – just sometimes – he lets himself hope. In moments like this, where you can’t quite seem to look at him, voice quiet and eyes sparkling, looking so innocent and earnest.

He doesn’t know what to say. What to do. He wants to say it back – he certainly cares about you, too. More than he’s comfortable admitting.

But he can’t just leave you hanging like this, letting your quiet little confession melt into the wooden walls of the infirmary.

You swallow awkwardly, fumbling around with your equipment. “Let’s do your forehead.”

He’s struck breathless as you lean in, fingers brushing against his forehead lightly as you inspect the damage. You’re close – alarmingly close, so close he can feel your breath against his nose, so close he can smell the faint sweet scent of your shampoo – and Megumi can’t take it anymore.

Fuck it, he thinks.

A large, bandaged hand cups your cheek and the next thing you know is that his lips are on yours, warm and soft and insistent.

You let out a quiet gasp and Megumi worries he made the wrong move.

But you lean into him, placing a hand on his knee to stabilise yourself. Your lips are so soft. Somehow softer than he’d imagined. There’s the faintest taste of your vanilla lip balm; that, perhaps, is what makes Megumi realise this is real. This is happening.

He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. Neither of you know what you’re doing, fumbling awkwardly through it, but Megumi doesn’t care. He’s so lightheaded that he’s dizzy, and he’s forgotten how to breathe (and he doesn’t even know if he wants to).

But if he doesn’t breathe he’ll pass out, and that’ll just make you fret.

He pulls back reluctantly, his breath ghosting your lips as his face lingers close to yours for a second longer.

“Was that… too much?” He swallows, eyes more intense than usual as he finds the courage to meet your startled gaze.

Your own eyes are wide, but they’re sparkling. It’s a look Megumi knows well – one he’s silently vowed to protect. You’re happy. No, that’s too plain of a word. You’re… joyful. Thrilled. Something of that ilk.

“No,” you smile, shaking your head ever so slightly, “I… I liked it.”

Such a simple sentence, yet such an avalanche of emotion within them. He may not be the best at reading people, but even Megumi can glean what you really mean.

Megumi considers, for a moment, that this might be a dream. That there’s no way he’d kiss you on impulse and that you’d kiss back, and that you’d like it. That you’d tell him you like it. That you’d smile like this.

But he feels alive. And it’s the first time in a while that he realises he doesn’t need to be in the thick of battle to feel this way.

“We…” He swallows once more, brows drawn together as he searches desperately for the courage to continue on. “We could… keep doing it. If you’d like.”

It’s such a stupid question, so teenage, and yet you respond with such earnest sincerity that Megumi’s heart aches.

Your entire face lights up, and perhaps it’s the most humbling thing that’s happened to him today.

Once again, your words are simple, but strong enough to move a tsunami. “I’d like that.”

[thebookofyouandi]

Oh, the sounds you make

Pairing- Andy Barber x reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS- Rape!, Forced sex, Poorly written smut (unprotected sex, violence), non-con, , violence,  Minors DNI, angst (hurt reader), abuse, swearing

Summary- You come to Andy looking for help, only to be betrayed by his desires. 

You shivered uncontrollably, pulling your thin shirt sleeves into your hands in a feeble attempt to keep yourself warm. Your breath was condensing in front of you, the rain pouring down torrentially on the dark and completely empty streets. 

“Just a few more miles”, you promised yourself. “Just a few more”. 

Your car had shut down in the middle of nowhere, and on top of that, the rain and the lack of your phone signal made things infinitely worse. Your chest hurt with the cold, your eyes blinking constantly to keep out the rain. You needed to reach Andy’s house- it was your last resort. 

Your fingers were so numb that you had to attempt thrice before you could ring the doorbell. Andy opened the door a few moments later, his eyes widening as he took in your state of mess. 

“Y/n! What happened!?” He quickly pulled you into his living room. 

“M-m-my car-” You began to speak, then gave up, your teeth chattering like a jackhammer. 

“Shit, you’re soaked! Wait, let me get you a towel.” Andy rushed into the kitchen, leaving you there standing, soaking his carpet. 

It took you an entire thirty seconds to pass out on the floor with a thud. 

“Y/n? Are you o-” Andy saw you on the floor and gritted his teeth, rushing to your side, picking you up in his arms and carrying you to his bedroom upstairs. He decided to remove all your wet clothes or you’d be down with hypothermia in no time. 

In all the times Andy had dreamed of seeing you naked, he had never imagined it would be like this. You were his best friend, but you had never seen him as anything more than that. He had wondered what you would look like under those too many layers of clothes, and he had gone to sleep on multiple occasions fantasizing about your curves and how they would fit in his large hands. 

And here you were, lying unconscious on his bed, skin turning blue due to the cold. Andy peeled off your thin white shirt and yellow skirt, and when he pulled off your bra and panties off, his hard dick almost forgot what he was supposed to do with you- take care of you. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you warm.” He murmured to you as he pulled you close to his shirtless body. He wanted to fuck you so bad, especially with your soft pump lips just begging to be kissed till they were bruised, but what could he do? There were boundaries he needed to respect, after all. 

He was rubbing your back in circular motions when you moaned softly, pressing your cheek to his chest. Andy froze. 

“Hey, hey baby, you awake yet?” He whispered, stroking your other cheek. You moaned again, and he groaned. That sound you had made was enough to send his head spinning. He had sworn he couldn’t get any harder when he had seen you naked a few moments before, and yet, all he could remember now was that he wanted to fuck you till you couldn’t make a sound no more. 

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You can’t fuck her Andy-she’s your-”

You let out another moan and shuffled so your hand rested almost on top of his rock hard dick. 

Andy gave up on all self-control he had ever had. His eyes darkened with a hunger that would have terrified you had you been awake right now. He pushed your body off him gently, and leaned over you, his mouth pressed in a grim line. You were going to be his tonight, and no one could stop him. 

He wished he had had the patience to prepare you for him, but he was too far gone to care for anything apart from the soft, innocent, unconscious woman lying beneath him. He took off his sweats and palmed his dick before pushing  your legs apart. He groaned again, then lined himself up at your entrance, rubbing his dick leaking with precum through your folds a few times. 

He entered you in one swift motion, letting out a loud noise of satisfaction as he did.

Andy started off slowly, your cunt so tight it gripped him like a vice. But soon, he was ramming into your body like there was no tomorrow. 

“Shit-fuck-fuck-fuc-shit you’re so tight angel! I never imagined you’d be this good! You are all mine, you were just made for me-fuck!” He rambled on, your helpless body making him even harder.   

And beneath him, you let out a loud whimper of pain, your eyes finally fluttering open.  Andy watched you stare up at him in utter confusion as you tried to make sense of what was happening, before realization hit you like a truck and you started to push on his chest with all your might, shaking your head frantically, your eyes wide with fear. 

“No. no, no-Andy, stop!” You screamed. “You can’t do this! You can’t-STOP, I said!”

Andy kept rutting into you passionately, each hit jolting your body with pain deep in your cervix. He looked at you with hooded eyes, his mouth open, breathing harshly as he made love to your body. He grabbed your hands in one of his own and held them up above your head as he leaned in and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, not letting you go till you were almost out of air. 

Tears fell down the sides of your face as he looked at you darkly, one hand roughly palming your left breast as he spoke in your ear. 

“I have waited long enough for you, baby. You have no idea how hard I tried to play nice today, how hard I tried not to take you like I should have all those years before. But then you go and make those pornographic sounds like you did, and you expect me to still have even an ounce of control left?”

You were sobbing so hard by now that you choked on your own tears. You hadn’t stopped struggling under him, tired as you were. But what effect could you possibly have on a man as large and as strong as Andy?

He bent down to take one nipple in his mouth, and then he bit down, hard. 

You screamed in pain. “Pl-please Andy- you are my friend- I trusted you- please-st-stop-Ah!” You choked on another groan as he pumped deep inside you, your back arching off the bed. 

Andy’s hand found his way to your clit, rubbing it roughly as he bit your collarbone gently, before soothing the skin with his tongue. His lips curled thinly into a sneer, and he leaned in to kiss you hard again. 

“I am sorry angel, but those huge eyes filled with tears and that perfect little mouth of yours are doing little to stop me now. You- belong-to-me”, he punctuated each word with a thrust deep enough to make your toes curl with pleasure mixed with pain. 

Your screams were swallowed up by his mouth as he came inside you, followed by you soon after. Your eyes rolled back and your vision blurred as you came down from your high, panting hard to catch your breath. 

Andy finally let go of your wrists, kissing both of them in turns as he pulled out of you gently. He lay back down on the bed and pulled you on top of him, your limbs too weak to push off him, or even try. He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your nose, then finally your lips. He chuckled at the sight of your beautiful face, wide tearful eyes staring up at him as you continued to cry softly. 

“Well, at least we got you warm, angel.”

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 5 - zuko x fem!reader

I can go anywhere I want, I can go anywhere just not home

part 4 | masterlist | part 6

a/n: this was hard to get going but once i got to the end the words just flowed. ive come to the conclusion that writing dialogue with katara is my favorite thing to do

warning(s): nightmare at the beginning, survivor's guilt from y/n, some internalized homophobia :-( but aside from that its mostly fluff

wc: 3.6k

chapter title comes from my tears ricochet by taylor swift!

She was trapped.

It was a prison of never ending hallways in some kind of infinite void, complete with the rank stench of death and an innate feeling of hopelessness.

Y/N knew this place. It had been the subject of her nightmares on countless occasions, because it was where she was supposed to be. She had no choice but to start down the pathway of cracked stone — she knew what awaited her, but it was the only way out. She had developed some sick sense of awareness in this nightmare and it didn’t do her any favors.

She began to walk hastily down the path, the itch of paranoia already plaguing the back of her mind. Countless times she had been here, and yet it never got better.

Before Y/N knew it, she had reached her unwanted destination. The first tangible thing in what felt like miles was a prison cell, and she pushed forward despite knowing what awaited her. It was the only way.

“It wasn’t the only way.”

She froze, inhaling sharply as the dreamscape seemed to pull her thoughts out of her mind, and she forced herself to take another step closer, the inhabitant of the cell now visible.

“You did this to me.”

It was her mother, but… not quite her. Her voice strained and stiff, a gaunt appearance with cruel eyes, hunched over in a prison cell. Any sign of the woman Y/N knew her as was gone, and it was her fault. She was the reason Kura was gone — a mother’s ultimate sacrifice because her daughter was too stuck in her head.

“How could you do this to me?” she asked. “How could you be so selfish?”

Y/N tried to respond, but she couldn’t. It was no use anyway — her words would’ve come out in broken, pleading rambles to someone who couldn’t hear a thing. She knew it was fake, she knew this was a nightmare, but it still hurt all the same.

She had imagined her mother saying those words to her so many times they had found their way into her nightmares despite knowing that Kura would never utter a single syllable true to her fears. She had all but killed her mother, and instead of remembering her for what she had done for Y/N, she appeared in her nightmares.

She was a horrible daughter.

She heard footsteps and whirled around, instinctively taking a step back and wincing as her back slammed into the bars. A tall, dark figure creeped towards her and her breath caught in her throat — as it came into the light, she recognized him as the Fire Lord.

He chuckled coldly as he neared ever closer, the path he walked turning to flames behind him. Her eyes darted around for an escape only to find that everything was on fire. It was suffocating, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and when she turned to look for her mother she was gone. Everything was gone, her dark void now a prison of flames.

She turned around once more and Ozai was right in front of her, the fire in his hands glowing red hot and a cruel smile on his lips.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

-

She shot up in her bed, a scream on the edge of her lips but just barely managing to hold it back. Ragged breaths were ripped from her chest, her eyes shooting around wildly as she attempted to find anything at all to ground her. It took a few minutes, but with repeated mantras of it was just a dream and you are safe, she was able to calm down.

She pulled her knees to her chest and exhaled long and deep before pulling herself out of bed. It seemed that her day was going to be starting much earlier than planned.

Four years had passed since her arrival at the Northern Water Tribe, but the nightmares never ceased. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she had done the right thing, that it was what her mother wanted, that if she stayed she would’ve died — she was constantly haunted by her past actions and memories of the Fire Nation.

She hasn’t taken off the necklace since her mother gave it to her, no matter what she does. It’s almost become a part of her now — a memory of Kura and her selflessness that knew no bounds, as well as a grim reminder of what it cost to get her here.

The Northern Water Tribe itself held countless memories of her mother — after all, it was where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. Her name was well known throughout the tribe with nobles and elders alike, and it amazed Y/N to no end the impact that her mother left everywhere she went. She loved hearing stories about her mother and what she was like as a child, but it was always bittersweet.

She always carried an inherent sense of guilt with her because of who she lived with — her mother hadn’t been lying when she said that the necklace would get them to help her. Kura’s parents still lived in the tribe, and they had taken Y/N in after she revealed who she was. They loved her unconditionally and never made her feel like a burden, but Y/N would be lying to herself if she didn’t think they blamed her for the fate that befell her mother.

After all, she did.

She had never told anyone the full story of why she ran though. It was one thing to leave her mother behind for certain death because of the Fire Lord’s rage, it was another thing to admit that it was wholly her fault because she had fallen for a prince.

Zuko.

Not a day went by where she didn’t think of him. She still held the hope that she would see him again someday, but in lieu of travel she turned to letters.

Y/N had a shelf full of unmailed letters addressed to both Zuko and her mother — it was a way to get out her emotions whenever she was feeling particularly homesick or hopeless, and it did help at first, but after four years it had become something born out of habit rather than necessity.

She still wrote them though — Y/N had learned to hold onto any form of hope she could muster up, no matter how small, and in this moment she needed some.

She opened her shelf and rifled through piles upon piles of letters, some finished, some hardly started, and some crumpled from fits of rage, and her breath caught in her throat when her fingers brushed something different. Y/N pulled the material out and nearly started crying right then and there.

It was an unbelievably simple patch of fabric, but it meant the world to her — something that she had bought during her last night with Zuko, and one of the only pieces of material to have survived her journey to the Northern Water Tribe. She was forced to sell the rest of the fabric she had brought with her in order to make some easy money while on the run, but she had kept this as a memento. She could almost be brought back to the final sunset they shared if she looked at it for long enough.

Y/N bit down hard on her lip to stop the tears and shoved it back into the drawer before closing it and leaving her room in a haste. Sometimes she wasn’t strong enough to handle the memories.

She made her way to the living room and let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the silence. Y/N had never told her grandparents about the nightmares, and right now she just needed some time to herself. Never before was she so thankful for her grandmother’s gossiping nature and her grandfather’s work than she was in the mornings where she just wanted to be alone.

She sat down on the floor, not even bothering to get a cushion, and stared at her hands. Once smooth and untouched by the world, they were now rough and calloused with wrapped bandages resting just below her wrist. Permanent memories of what it took to get here. The ever present reminder that nothing came without a cost.

This morning seemed to be one full of yearning for the past. Y/N tried to shake her feelings off and got up once more, contemplating some steamed sea prunes before deeming it fruitless. Her appetite was lacking after her trip down memory lane.

She walked back to her room and got dressed hastily then ran out the door, but not before plucking a gift from her shelf. Today marked the birthday of a certain princess, and Y/N had to go fast if she was going to get it to her before class.

She was immediately hit by the frigid air of the North, pulling her anorak tighter around her frame as she began to run to the canals — one could always find Princess Yue there in the mornings — doing her best to avoid anyone else walking.

Y/N saw Yue just about to board one of the boats and sped up, waving one of her arms as a signal. “Yue, wait!”

She turned and her face immediately brightened up at the sight of Y/N, raising her open palm so the boatman would hold up. “Y/N! Would you like to join me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Yue’s nod prompted a shrug as she dropped down carefully into the gondola, taking extra care not to drop her gift, and took a seat next to her friend.

“This is a nice surprise,” Yue smiled as the boatman began to waterbend, effectively moving their gondola through the canal. “But if I might ask, what brought you here so early?”

Y/N laughed, thinking her reason for coming here obvious. “It’s your birthday, princess! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to wish you well in person?”

Her smile grew even brighter, the corners of her eyes creasing up in the way that made some kind of warmth blossom in Y/N’s chest. “Thank you! That’s so sweet — I’m especially honored that you woke up early just for me.”

“Of course.” Y/N brandished the gift she had been doing her best to hide, unable to do the same for her own smile. “And here’s your gift! I sewed it all myself.”

Yue gasped as she took the creation, giving it a slight squeeze and a thorough investigation before absolutely beaming. “You made me an otter penguin— oh, you know how much I love these!”

She wrapped Y/N in a tight hug before pulling away, but it was just long enough for the heat to rush to her cheeks. “Thank you so much, really. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Y/N beamed at the praise and nodded, shifting a little in her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m glad you like it so much.”

The two girls grinned at each other then turned their gaze to the horizon, content to spend the rest of the ride together in comfortable silence.

Her friendship with the princess of the Northern Water Tribe was something that Y/N cherished with all her heart. She could confidently say that Princess Yue was her best friend, and she hoped it was a notion that Yue shared. As beautiful as she was kind, the princess always had a way of making her feel better on the hardest days — Yue was the only one who knew the whole truth of what happened in the Fire Nation, and she offered nothing but sympathy.

Y/N honestly didn’t know what she would do without Yue. She had been her rock during the whole process of getting situated in the tribe, always lending a helping hand when she stumbled in class or was completely oblivious to something in their culture, and she never made her feel stupid, or unwanted, or less-than for what she had come from.

The only thing that confused her about Yue was the feeling she got whenever Y/N was around her. The rushes of heat to her cheeks, the warmth blossoming in her chest, and the unusual happiness she felt anytime Yue smiled at her. The most peculiar of it all was the strange tug of jealousy any time a noble boy tried to flirt with the princess, and nothing but disinterest whenever they tried an angle on her instead.

She didn’t know what any of it meant, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it was wrong. So Y/N did the only thing she could and suppressed it.

Soon enough, though much to their chagrin, Y/N had to leave. After some exchanged hugs and one last wish of happy birthday, Y/N took off for her morning healing class. But as she hurried down the icy paths, she caught sight of the most peculiar thing.

A giant flying bison was being led through the canals with a team of waterbenders, three kids that couldn’t be any older than her on its back. One had an arrow on his head and sported orange and yellow robes, while the other two looked to be of Water Tribe descent.

Her interest was irrefutably piqued, but she didn’t have any more time to waste with gawking. So she began to run once again, apologies spilling from her lips as she maneuvered through the groups of people all just as awestruck by the strange arrival as she was. Y/N made a mental note to ask Yue about it later, but for now she was running very late to her healing class.

-

Sure enough, a few hours later, Y/N was able to get the answers she had been craving. She met up with Yue outside of the palace, and during a short walk, she learned that the boy was the Avatar. He had come to the Northern Water Tribe to master waterbending, and the two kids with him were his companions from the Southern Tribe — much to her excitement, the girl was a waterbender.

Needless to say, Y/N was even more enthusiastic than before, and Yue made her day by confirming that they would be coming to her birthday celebration that night as honored guests. She had already talked to her father about allowing Y/N to sit with her and he had said yes, which meant that she would get to meet him and his friends in person — it just served as a reminder that Y/N had no idea what she would do without Yue.

After what felt like hours of passing the time with lost games of Pai Sho against her grandfather and failed attempts at finishing her homework, it was finally time for the banquet. Once she arrived at the front of the palace she bid goodbye to her grandparents and went to find the seat that Yue had secured for her.

She settled down in the empty spot next to what she assumed was Yue’s — it was her birthday after all, so a dramatic entrance wasn’t out of the question — and nervously glanced at the three visitors, trying to figure out how to introduce herself.

Thankfully, she was saved when the girl met her eyes and waved, offering a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Katara; this is my brother Sokka, and that’s Aang.” She gestured in their direction with her head when she said their names and they both smiled and gave her polite nods.

She returned the sentiment gratefully. “I’m Y/N— I’m one of Princess Yue’s friends. Welcome to the Northern Water Tribe!”

“Thanks!” Aang said. “We’re here to find a master so Katara and I can master waterbending.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Master Pakku is one of the best there is, and even though he’s a total jerk, he’ll be able to teach you everything you need to know. And Katara, we have some amazing healing teachers— I can bring you along to my class tomorrow if you’re interested!”

Katara’s eyes lit up. “You’re a waterbender too?” When Y/N nodded, her smile grew even bigger, though slightly wistful.

“I’d really appreciate that,” she admitted, though her brows knit together. “But I’d like to learn from Master Pakku as well.”

Y/N frowned, about to correct her, when the distinct sound of drums began to echo throughout the hall. Her displeasure immediately disappeared as she grinned at them all excitedly, gesturing with her head towards the action.

Chief Arnook stood up from his spot and their table, his low voice booming. “Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of our brother and sister from the Southern Tribe. And they have brought with them someone very special, someone whom many of us believed disappeared from the world until now… the Avatar!”

Y/N’s own applause joined a symphony of others clapping and cheering as Aang waved bashfully, and once it died down, Arnook continued. “We also celebrate my daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Princess Yue is now of marrying age!”

She grinned as Yue walked out alongside her attendants — she would never get used to her beauty. Y/N noticed the way that Sokka’s eyes widened as he stared at her, and her stomach twisted at the act for some unknown reason.

“Thank you, Father,” she said. “May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits watch over us during these troubled times!”

Arnook smiled at his daughter and directed his attention back to his people. “Now, Master Pakku and his students will perform!”

She could tell that Katara and Aang were enraptured by the bending, while Sokka’s attention was already on Yue as she walked over to sit between Sokka and Y/N.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Yue exclaimed, greeting her friend with a short embrace.

Y/N gave her a sideways smile. “If you think that I would miss your birthday and a banquet, then I’m afraid you’re out of practice on Y/N trivia.”

The princess laughed and nodded amiably then turned her attention to Sokka, ever the diplomat.

“Hi there,” he grinned. “Sokka, Southern Water Tribe.”

Yue returned the sentiment and gave him a slight bow. “Very nice to meet you.”

As their conversation went on, Y/N found herself tuning out a bit. For whatever reason, she had to actively stop herself from rolling her eyes at Sokka’s flirting, that same feeling in her stomach coming back. She made a mental note to see a healer about her issues.

“Hey, Y/N!” She snapped out of her self-imposed trance at the sound of Katara calling her name as she gestured for her to come over. It looked like Aang had gotten up to converse with Master Pakku and Chief Arnook, so she took the invitation and switched seats.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to finally be here,” Katara said once Y/N had settled next to her. “Back home, I’m the only waterbender. Here… it’s like paradise. It almost feels too good to be true. I mean, even seeing you is crazy — I’ve never met a waterbender my age.”

Y/N smiled, though not without a hint of sadness. “I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for you to be able to experience this. How are you the only bender left down there?”

Katara was silent for a moment, a flurry of emotions warring on her face, before she answered. “The Southern Tribe hasn’t fared half as well as the Northern Tribe during the war. We don’t have one big, huge capital like this, we’re all split up into small villages. The Fire Nation has just been relentless with their raids, and without support from the North and a lack of communication between our sister tribes in the South, they were able to wipe us all out. Except for me.”

“Spirits, Katara…” Y/N set an amiable hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping that her softened expression could say what her words couldn’t. “My village was invaded when I was young, too. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

She nodded pensively but managed to meet her eyes with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your village as well.” Her gaze drifted off, once again taking in the view around them, and when Katara met her eyes again she seemed better. “But we’re here now, and I’m planning to take advantage of everything I can, starting with all this food. Which one of these is your favorite?”

Y/N grinned as Katara pointed at the platter of various dishes in front of them. “Oh, you’ve got to try this. See that giant crab up there? That’s what this is, and you have not lived until you have tried Northern crab.”

Conversation flowed just as easily through the rest of the night between the two girls, occasionally switching to include Sokka and Yue and eventually Aang once he returned. Between the swells of pride whenever they laughed at her jokes, getting to learn about all three of them, and the almost palpable euphoria in the air, Y/N was sure of one thing:

This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. She could only hope it would last.

-

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