#his mother is the source though his sister only makes it worse and is the one who called the pigs on him

[none-gender-left-man]

I am very not okay ngl yall

[melzula]

Okay I have an request

So like we are azula and zuko sister and we adored by both but like in the catacombs we choose gaang over azula and zuko of this and please can y/n x sokka and now zuko now wants to join gaang and yeah I am not good with words I hope u understand what I said😁

Y/n can be a firebender or non bender its ur choice anyway

a/n: okay so there’s a lot to tackle in this request which is why i chose to do it as headcanons so i hope you don’t mind !

summary: being the middle child isn’t easy, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula

As the only non-bender and middle child of the royal family, you never felt like you mattered

You were the Black Swan of the palace, a disgrace to your father and his image

You kept to yourself, staying in the shadows and out of his way while your siblings took the spotlight

However, just because your father looked down upon you didn’t mean your siblings shared his sentiment

In fact, they adored you

Zuko was an attentive older brother. He let you follow him everywhere, defended you against anyone who dared speak badly about you, and was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father was feeling particularly cruel

He saw you for who you were, and who you were was an intelligent, kind, talented young woman meant to do great things in her lifetime

Azula, while being particularly mean to Zuko at times, never once treated you the way she saw her brother

Despite you being a nonbender, she surprisingly never speaks down to you or makes you feel less than

It could be because she doesn’t see you as competition as she does Zuko, or maybe she truly does just feel genuine sisterly love for you

Maybe it’s because whenever she felt your mother was unfairly favoring your brother over her, you were always there to assure her that she was a wonderful bender and just as important

Maybe it’s because sometimes she wished you could be her mother instead

Whatever her reasoning, Azula sees you as a comforting presence in her life. She seeks your validation constantly almost as much as your father’s, and she’d do anything to protect you and your honor

Things became worse for you when Ursa left. She could no longer intervene when your father felt like tormenting you, and your siblings knew better than to say anything in your defense. Shortly after her banishment, Ozai deems it best to send you away to the academy since he has no other use for you

Your departure is hard for both siblings. Zuko is gutted that he can no longer be there to protect you or look after you. Though she acts as if she couldn’t care less, Azula is devastated at your leaving. Her source of comfort is being ripped away from her, and she has no one to look out for her

At the academy you learn various forms of physical combat and weaponry wielding. You’re especially fond of using tanto swords in battle and they’ve become your weapon of choice when in a fight

Zuko and Azula send you letters during your stay at school behind your father’s back updating you about your home, their lives, and their annoyance of each other. You keep every single one they send, and it eases the ache of your home sickness

It’s also at the school that you learn of the Agni Kai and Zuko’s banishment. Your heart breaks for your older brother, and you’re devastated at the fact that you never got the chance to say goodbye and you may never see him again. He still sends letter for a time, but as the years pass they become less frequent and almost nonexistent. Azula’s letters follow the same path

Years pass and your father deems it time for you to come home. Now that you’ve made a decent fighter out of yourself he finds your worthy of being his daughter again

However, your stay is short lived. Azula recruits you to be part of her little team to capture the Avatar and your brother, and you don’t really have any other choice but to agree

You downplay how skilled you are in fighting so that she doesn’t expect much from you and force you to do too much of the work. You don’t want to go against her, but you also don’t want to have to fight your brother and your uncle

You also don’t exactly feel good about destroying the world’s last hope for peace

And that’s why, when the time comes, you choose the Avatar over your siblings

You’re tired of being pulled back and forth, of always being stuck between your siblings with no real purpose, of not being able to do anything for yourself

Zuko is astonished by your choice and conflicted. Just when he finally had found his way back into the family you chose to leave it. Why were you doing this? Why were you ruining everything?

Azula is furious. Your betrayal hurts worse than mother’s. You’d always taken her side, always comforted her and supported her, you’d always been there, and now you were leaving. How dare you leave her?

“You fool!” She’d cried, angrily sending a blast of blue flames your way knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop it. If not for Iroh, surely her strike would have ended you. The fact that your own sister was willing to hurt you for the cause was enough proof to know you were making the right decision

You help the Avatar escape and join his group, vowing to help them in any way you can to win the war. Your fighting skills and knowledge of the Fire Nation makes you a big help and they appreciate your assistance

It doesn’t take long for you to win their trust and acclimate into their group. You become fast friends with everyone, growing especially close to Sokka who may or may not have a huge crush on you

He definitely becomes your shoulder to lean on when things get tough, because he knows it can’t be easy for you to just leave all you’ve ever known behind. you struggle constantly over having to choose the Avatar over your siblings, but he constantly assures you that you’ve made the right choice

Least to say your departure makes Zuko’s return home even more conflicting and turmoil filled. How can he enjoy being back home when you’re not there to enjoy it with him? How could he be happy knowing his sister was out there risking her life to help the Avatar?

Your decision definitely inspires his own to leave the Fire Nation and aid Aang and his friends

Your abandonment of your siblings also fuels Azula’s descent into madness, fueling her fire to continue her mission to capture the Avatar

It’s a rough position you’ve found yourself in, but it’s not like your whole life hasn’t been you stuck in a terrible spot

Being the middle child is hard, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula

[chaedomi]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃 ✦ btvf

fem!child!reader x ariadne valentine (platonic!yan), violence, abuse, death, unhealthy relationships; unable to witness your death a second time, your sister desperately strives to change your fate, even if it meant ridding of others to prevent it. ꨄ — masterlist

HERE’S A fun fact. Did you know that if you were to encounter a Mermaid, the higher the chances are of encountering a Siren as well? In addition to the creatures viewing each other as family, because of a mermaid’s delicate nature, sirens are naturally possessive of them. They become drunk and hypnotized by a mermaid’s affection, and thus, diligently fulfill a mermaid’s desires to preserve the shine they thrive off of. It’s an interesting tale, to learn the charmers become the charmed. However… if The Mermaid were to ever fall, so will The Siren as their main source of warmth has died. They will descend into madness and become the hostile nature they are known for or even worse, willingly succumb to the hands of death.

In the past, both you and your half-sister, ARIA, led a pitiful life. Throughout your years, your stepmother would force your sister to consume a potion, rendering her speechless, whereas yours will gently hug you, encouraging you to always remain neutral. It was confusing and painful, as it seemed those were the only moments your mothers cared about you both. Your stepmother, quiet as a mouse, and your mother, apathetic as a heart of stone.

During those times, you and Aria were grateful for each other, more so Aria, as she would cling to your tiny body crying and trembling while you tenderly kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

Eventually, the truth came to light when you were the age of five, and your sister, ten. Through the season of spring, your mother passed, inclusive of your stepmother, who apparently went mad and took her own life after hearing of your mother’s death. By eavesdropping on the maids, it was then you both learned of each other’s identities, Aria, a Siren, and you, a Mermaid.

Sirens, gaining the name of the ancient monster, that flowed through your stepmother’s blood, through their songs, they possessed people, treated them, controlled them, and shook their emotions. Mermaids, gaining the name of the mythical creature, that flowed through your mother’s blood, through their tears, they shed milky crystals that held the power to repel a siren’s song. With those tears too, they were capable of granting grand wishes whether great or small, destructive or creative. Despite how dangerous their power was, they were harmless and good-natured.

Twelve years ago, your father had kidnapped a Mermaid and a Siren, presenting them to the world as they were originally known as myth. That Mermaid was your mother, and The Siren, your stepmother.

Your mind was too young to understand the information told and realize how dire the situation was. So, it worried you to see your sister in a constant state of panic and tears every now and then. You had asked her several times for the reason for her grief, but she brushed your concerns off each time, snuggling closer to you. And your worries slowly diminished as well as you returned the hug. Till… it happened one night when your father was unbelievably drunk out of his mind.

It was sudden, you were telling a story to your sister while she clung to you before your father barged inside the room, a wave of hatred visible in his eyes. One thing led to another and your sister was dragged outside the room by the hair. Even though you couldn’t make sense of what was happening, the sword that was tightly grasped in his hand as he took your sister away, was enough for you to spring into action. A silly game of tug-of-war it was, you, screaming your lungs out while you pulled at the hem of your sister’s nightgown, and your father, effortlessly dragging you both, to where he pleased. What it took to stop him, was the perfectly sweet voice of your sister, and the solid gems that fell from your eyes as you wept. He resembled a total madman, reaching toward you both as he cackled about the materials he could possess. You could only cry harder as your sister hugged you, burying your head against her chest.

Your lives were horrific beyond that point. Living the lives of a Mermaid and a Siren, you both were forced to mature quickly, learning and hearing unspeakable things. Becoming caged animals, you were pressured to fulfill the greed of scum. And despite all the abuse you suffered, you continued to push smiling, even when the exhaustion taking a toll on your body became more visible with each passing day.

Such a selfless soul you were too, quick to jump to others' needs instead of yours. Whenever your sister silently wept after a song, you would rub her head in comfort, sweetly hushing her as she lay in your lap. Whenever she was angry, you would squeeze her hands, attempting to calm the brewing storm in her heart. Whenever she felt as though she couldn’t make it, you would kiss her cheek, saying that she has done so well.

She, of course, soaked up every affection you provided. Too occupied wallowing in her sorrows and the comfort she will receive afterward from you, she forgot that you were also affected, dealt with the same ill-treatment, as well as that you had your limitations. So when the day arrived when you had no tears left to cry, her heart shattered.

It was a pitiful sight to witness, your sister in a mess as she cried desperately to you, begging for you to stay. You wished that you could, but the longer your head rested on her lap, and her cold hands held your cheeks, you felt more of your life fade away. So you forced yourself to cry, to shed one more tear, and it fell.

With that tear, you wished, that perhaps in another lifetime, both you and your sister could enjoy your days in endless glee, like free birds soaring in the sky.

As you drew your last breath, your sister too accepted her death, willing to perish alongside you. You were her joy, her motive to continue her days. But, when you left, so did those things. And she sang her last song, calling to whoever could come and console her weeping soul. Even when her savior came and held her in his arms, your sister’s eyes never left your corpse as she continued to sing. Maybe, if she died, she’ll be reunited with you in the depths of hell, unknowing of the white glow that shone by your corpse as she closed her eyes…

…So it came as a great surprise when she reopened her eyes not to hell, but to a lovely floral scent wafting in the air… As it dawned on her that she reverted to her ten-year-old self her head immediately snapped to the spot beside her on the bed, a lump visible under the duvets. With a shaky hand, she slightly tugged it downward… revealing your adorable face.

She almost cried there on the spot, leaning forward to press a kiss against your temple. She remembered that wish you made on your deathbed… could this outcome be a result of your wish being granted? If so, she will not take it for granted. Your father… who ruined both of your lives, she will inflict vengeance on him. She will save you from your fate no matter what it takes.

“MY YOUNG Lady, you seem upset. Is everything alright?” Dana asked, chuckling lightly. Damn right, she’s upset. And no, she’s not alright. Can’t she tell? She was considered to be weak physically, but, god, the sight in front of her filled her with so much rage that she was capable of snapping the spoon in her hand in half.

The maid assigned to you was just doing what she ought to do, heeding your commands. If you tell her to bark like a loyal dog, she will do just that and obey your orders. So, naturally, if you had instructed her to spoon-feed you the food brought to the table, the maid would oblige.

Aria's teeth sunk further into her bottom lip, listening to how you squealed and laughed in glee when the maid gently wiped the crumbs off your face, chuckling along with you. Why were you acting so sweet and loving to someone you just met? She was there longer than that maid ever was, no? She was the only one there for you when you suffered, so rightfully, whatever abnormality or emotion you may feel, she is the only one allowed to witness it.

"What is it you don't like, My Young Lady?" Tearing her eyes off the sight that sickened her greatly, she stared blankly at her caretaker, who contrasted her expression with a beaming smile. She was so focused on the scene that she hadn't realized her body moved on its own, scribbling messily on the piece of paper she used to communicate.

She slowly wrote again. “You don’t like the maid, My Young Lady?” Dana tried to hide her amusement over the situation, albeit terribly, I may add, the fingers pressed against her quivering lips a dead giveaway. “So, that’s why you have that frown… Young Lady, are you perhaps jealous?”

Jealous? The feeling inside her body burns too hot for it to be deciphered as jealousy. What she felt was a pure unspoken rage that could tip over at any given moment. Such anger she felt… was similar to the night she confronted her drunken father after she awoke as a child. In short, she didn’t want this maid to just leave. She wanted her gone. Entirely.

“Hmmm…” Dana frowned at Aria’s discontent. Pinching her chin in thought, she glanced in your direction. “The Other Young Lady does not know how to use cutlery correctly, hence why she always seeks assistance. However… Ah!” Dana snapped her fingers as a thought popped up. “Why don’t you feed The Other Young Lady instead?”

The rate at which Aria immediately perked up was comical. Eyes sparkling like fine jewels, she was practically buzzing in her seat! Satisfied that she made her Young Lady smile, Dana quickly moved to update your maid on the change of plans.

You were very confused when your maid abruptly stood from her chair, big-doe eyes staring when she stood near the doorway with a large smile plastered on her lips. But when your sister approached you, taking the spot the maid sat on to feed you, all questions vanished. You were already glad to see your sister just… there, so, think of the wave of happiness that rushed over you when she wrote she wanted to feed you!

The food served became tastier now that your sister was the one feeding you. And with a full mouth of food and eyes that glimmered in admiration of your sister, you huffed out an ‘I love you’ as best as you could. It was a bit gross to see some bits of food fly out of your mouth, but the warmth that clenched her heart from your genuineness overpowered her disgust. Smiling fondly, she wiped your messy mouth before leaning over to press a loving kiss on your forehead.

Your happiness truly is the source of her own happiness. Keep smiling for her, she will do anything to preserve it and anything for you, her little mermaid.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[clotpolesonly]

Declan's hair in tvTRC; a dissection

ok i'm sure you guys have been waiting with bated breath for me to weigh in on this particular subject (lol) but i needed a hot minute to collect my thoughts on the matter. turns out i've got quite a few, go figure.

first things first: i am contractually obligated to say it's a goddamn travesty of a departure from canon to make Declan fucking BLOND and why the FUCK did they do that??? i was screaming in dms the second he showed up on screen, my sister can attest to how far i threw my phone across the couch in my outrage. i mean, honestly who suggested that?? turn on ur location i just wanna talk

-deep breath-

okay got that out of my system

so we all knew immediately that it was stupid as shit and entirely unnecessary...............but i've got a confession to make

i don't hate it

at least, not anymore. i'm actually kinda fascinated by what they've done here and what it adds to Declan's character/what it says about him psychologically. especially because he doesn't stay blond -- his hair is only like that for a little under half of the first season, though it's unclear how long he's had it like that before (tv)canon starts.

what the show has done here is given Declan a relationship with his hair that's not entirely dissimilar to the one that Ronan has. it's never said explicitly i don't think, in either the books or the show, that Ronan shaved his hair off because 1) he looks too much like his dad with it long and 2) it's something that he can control, but it very much comes through anyway, and the same applies to Declan here.

both boys -- all three boys, actually, but Ronan and Declan especially, more than Matthew -- are made in Niall's image. they resemble him very strongly. they look in the mirror and, for better or for worse, they see their father, and that's something that becomes really fucked up and complicated when your father is murdered, and when you hate him, and when you're afraid of becoming him, and when you miss him.

Ronan dealt with it one way (shaving it all off, making himself unique) and Declan here dealt with it another way (distancing himself from his father, yes, but also doing it in a way that made him more similar to Matthew). (and to his mother, which is a point i'll come back to later; you know the scene i'm talking about.)

Declan is a control freak of epic proportions, we all know this, and seeing it manifest in changes to his hair is not remarkable i don't think, esp in conjunction with how meticulously he manages his wardrobe. everything in his life feels outside of his control, so he grasps at what he can to feel secure. that's textbook.

then he fights with Ronan. most of the scene plays out more or less as it does in the book, but i want to draw your attention this bit of dialogue --

Gansey: "Why are you even here?" Declan: "I don't need to explain myself to you, I can go wherever I like. Free country and all." Ronan: "Then you're free to go somewhere else." Gansey: "Ronan... Declan, just go." Declan: "He's failing almost all his classes. What, Ronan, did you think I didn't know? Your teachers call me every time you skip class, dumbass, you keep going like this and you're going to -- " [Ronan tries to punch him again, Gansey intervenes] Gansey: "That's enough, both of you! Look, Declan, I'm not saying you're wrong, but you are not Niall Lynch, and you never will be." Ronan: [scoffs] "Not looking like that. You and your bimbo girlfriend get a 2-for-1 special at the salon?" Gansey: "Ronan, knock it off." Declan: "Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you." Ronan: "Well, I don't. And I'll never forgive you."

the salon comment is a petty side swipe that made me snortlaugh ngl, but it's also a direct acknowledgement from Ronan that what Declan is doing with his hair is Declan, in his own way, trying to distance himself from Niall while simultaneously trying (and failing) to fill his shoes. he's shining a spotlight on Declan's biggest source of internal conflict in a way that's both casually cruel (Ronan's specialty tbh) and humiliatingly dismissive. what an effective jab at someone like Declan who is, underneath his deliberately unremarkable exterior, every bit as proud as Ronan is. he's trying to be Niall and he's failing so badly even Gansey's begging him to stop, and he's trying to be Not Niall and he's so obvious about it as to be pathetic and laughable.

it's notable that the blond doesn't stay much longer. we only see it once more -- delivering his ultimatum to Ronan through Adam as he gatekeeps Declan at monmouth, a confrontation i must note is between a natural blond (Adam) and a fake one (Declan), and no words are exchanged about it but we do get a rather pointed look at the hair from Adam right before he delivers his line about fighting and it being "Ronan's thing" that makes Declan back off -- before we get to the biggest departure from Declan's canon arc and what i really want to talk about:

✨ the dorm room dye job ✨

this is, honestly, my favorite non-book-canon scene in this adaptation so far. that probably does not surprise anyone, because i am me, but hear me out!!!

let's run through what we actually get in this scene:

- Matthew asking Declan what he, Matthew, is doing in the morning, and Declan rattling off Matthew's entire schedule for the week, all while nagging him through his bedtime routine - Declan texting Ronan repeatedly and getting left on read - Declan trying and failing to sleep (intercut with Ronan and Gansey sharing insomnia time), growing more restless and texting Ronan some more until Ronan blocks his number and the texts stop being delivered - Declan going to their suite's bathroom to dig out a cheap dusty box of hair dye from the back of the cabinet and rushing through the process of mixing and applying it while Matthew sleeps - Declan staring at himself in the mirror and then smearing dye across his reflection

obviously, exactly none of this is book canon, and i don't not understand why some fans are crying foul on screentime they consider "wasted". should priority have been given to book canon elements and scenes? yeah, probably, and there are things that didn't make it into the show that i would've been glad to sacrifice this scene for, HOWEVER i want to talk about why this scene, as presented, within this slightly alternate show canon, is worth its screen time imo.

the show is really making an effort toward expanding the characters and relationships outside the insular gangsey -- the fox way ladies and the Gansey family have both gotten subplots, and much more attention is being paid to the Lynch bros than we got canonically this early in TRC.

without being inside the POVs of Ronan's friends like we are in the books, it makes sense that we get to see Declan more objectively for the overburdened teenager that he is. we get to actually SEE him being relied upon to manage and parent Matthew, day and night, no breaks. sharing even a bedroom with him, there is no reprieve and no retreat from that responsibility.

and we see him trying to manage Ronan too, which is overbearing and aggressive, yes, but we also see his preoccupation and his mounting anxiety. the little tics like him tapping his thumb against his thigh and the breathing technique he employees (the same one that Ronan uses in ep 2). unlike when they were brawling in the parking lot, Declan defends Ronan to Matthew ("he probably just lost his phone again" despite all of his messages being read). (this is a characterization tidbit described in Greywaren actually, in case any viewers haven't read TD3, that Declan was always far more understanding of Ronan and his behavior to Matthew than he was in confrontations with Ronan himself).

i digress, anyway, Declan tries repeatedly to get through to Ronan until the messages stop being delivered and Declan (correctly) assumes that Ronan has blocked his number (again).

all that nervous energy boils over and Declan beelines for the bathroom. he obviously knows that the box of dye is in there, he goes right for it. it's ambiguous how long it's been there -- either it was there before they moved into this room, in which case it may have been what inspired Declan to bleach his hair in the first place, or he may have bought it himself months ago and decided not to use it (probably because it's cheap and he usually has higher standards than that lol, he'd rather get it done professionally).

but this is not a moment for standards. this is an impulse. it's rushed and clumsy and jittery. he tears the box getting it open. he fumbles the little conditioner thing. he tosses the instructions aside with barely a glance. his phone is right there on the kitchen counter, always in the frame but face down, conspicuous in just how much Ronan is not texting him back.

this is, as mentioned up top, a bid for control. Ronan is uncontrollable, a variable he cannot account for and a loved one he cannot protect, and so Declan does what a lot of teenagers in fucked up circumstances do -- fucks with his hair before he can think better of it.

the only thing that slows him down is dropping the bottle, which almost wakes Matthew up. Matthew, right over Declan's shoulder in the mirror. Matthew, always in the frame just like the silent phone, always on Declan's mind, never allowed to more than an arm's length away.

Matthew is in the background of this entire scene. every shot of Declan's breakdown, Matthew is there, if indistinctly.

and there's something else about the cinematography that really elevates this scene, and that's the fact that, once Declan enters the bathroom, the entire thing is shot through the mirror. we don't get another shot of Declan straight on to the camera in this episode, we only see his face in reflection. we are seeing Declan seeing himself, which is perhaps the truest way to view him, especially in this moment.

remember that this was catalyzed primarily by Ronan's judgment (and Adam's, and Gansey's). Ronan ridiculed Declan for his hair a few episodes ago, not just for its own sake because it looks ridiculous but specifically in conjunction with talk of their father and Declan's inability to fill his shoes. Ronan essentially called Declan a failure and a phony, and the hair now symbolizes both.

Declan is so so conscious of how he is perceived, constantly thinking of himself within the context of how others think of him rather than engaging in actual self-knowledge. he is his own panopticon and this scene showcases that EXCELLENTLY.

which makes this messy breakdown so interesting, because it is unobserved by anyone but himself and, in the end, he obscures even that. he blacks his hair with bare hands (buddy, that's gonna stain so noticeably afkdjh) and then stands there, staring into the mirror at his own reflection -- at his own failure to perform the identity he's chosen for himself -- until he can't bear to see it anymore, and then he smears the dye along the mirror to block it all out. all that messiness, that vulnerability, hidden even from his own eyes.

and of course i need to touch on the identity of it all. of course i do!! because hair color means something in the Lynch family!! the resemblance the older boys have for Niall is so integral to the family dynamic and how they all relate to and interact with each other. the boys have daddy issues out the wazoo, and you would too if you were Made In Your Father's Image.

for Ronan, looking like dad was a source of pride for a long time, and is now a source of pain. but for Declan, looking like dad is equal parts pain and shame. everything Declan is, so much of his facade, was deliberately constructed to be different from his father -- Niall was reckless, so Declan is careful. Niall was loud, so Declan is staid. Niall was volatile, so Declan is predictable. Niall was eye-catching, so Declan is invisible.

and now, Niall was a brunet, so Declan is blond. it's another step along the road of rebellion against the legacy he inherited. Niall claims god broke the mold, but Declan knows just how similar they are, both physically and in their natural inclinations (though we haven't gotten into the latter much yet in the show). his father is not a man he respected and he is deeply afraid of being too much like him.

Declan bleaching his hair was a reaction to that, and it was a reasonable one, but it was also fundamentally, in both Declan's eyes and Ronan's, a disavowal of his connection to and place in the family. in rejecting his resemblance to dad (and therefore Ronan), Declan functionally declared himself Not A Lynch.

which makes this, dying his hair dark again, a bit of a reclamation? in a way? or, no. that would feel triumphant, and this scene has the definite air of tragedy.

maybe i should say it's a concession instead. the waving of a white flag. it's an admission that trying to disavow his family is a losing game. he cannot cover up what he is. no amount of bleach can wash away his father's blood in his veins. he will never be Niall Lynch, but he will always be Niall Lynch's son, for better or for worse, and there's no point in trying to pretend otherwise.

this scene is Declan giving up on his last desperate bid for an identity separate from the legacy he inherited. there's irony there, and honestly i find it very in keeping with what we get from him in some of the flashback details in TD3. i wrote a meta a while ago about the moth's wooden box and the alexandria townhouse both as symbols of Declan's complicity in his own oppression as a child -- ie, cages that Declan chose to step into of his own volition, because feeling powerless is worse than feeling trapped.

in this context, dying his hair dark again feels very similar. he's feeling powerless and so he makes the choice to figuratively reclaim his position in the family, even if that position is and has always been awful and traumatizing and something he's spent his entire life trying to break free from, because the alternative is to acknowledge that there is nothing that he can do to free himself. he would rather be complicit than helpless.

there may or may not be something to unpack with Declan choosing blond, especially that shade rather than something that would've been more aesthetically fitting for him like a cooler platinum shade. namely that, in distancing himself from his resemblance to Niall, he actually strengthened his resemblance to Matthew and also to Aurora. he could've dyed his hair some middling shade of brown and honestly it would've been far more in line with his desire to be bland and pedestrian, but he chose a hair color that aligned with the other half of his family (the dreamt half of his family).

was it some subconscious desire to replace their mother for Matthew's sake? Matthew was Aurora's favorite, he was the closest to her and undoubtedly the one who took her loss the hardest in the immediate aftermath, and we know that Declan took up the kinds of duties that used to be Aurora's like cooking Matthew good meals and being his emotional support (as best he could).

the fact of Declan taking on Aurora's most defining feature in the aftermath of her falling asleep (to him, functionally, her death) and his staunch refusal recognize her humanity (such as it is) or to engage with her memory is really haunting, imo. honestly, Aurora and his relationship with her is such an underrated factor in Declan's psychology, she had such an enormous impact on him that's rarely discussed in the detail it deserves. here it's like his feelings about her are leaking out of him subconsciously even as he's trying his damnedest to repress them.

or, hell, idk, that might be reading too much into it. it may just have been that blond was as far from his natural color as he could get.

but honestly it doesn't feel coincidental. nothing in this arc does, which surprised the hell out of me as i was watching. "Declan is blond now actually" is the kind of cracky nonsense that should've had me flipping tables, but it turns out, when it's a concept that's actually executed with thought and attention to detail and a real understanding of the character, blond!Declan is something that can actually be so personal.

so

thank you for coming on this journey with me. if you read this far, your brainrot is probably nearly as strong as mine is for writing it. i might write another one later digging into some more of the details from the back half of season 1, but for now, i need to go outside and touch some grass or something. stay tuned i guess. <3

[ineffectualdemon]

Jiang Cheng has many flaws but that's what makes him a wonderful character. I was talking to my husband about the movie we just watched and praising the acting and said "You know, there are characters in it that really made me angry or I disliked them and their choices but that's why they are good characters"

I love Jiang Cheng but he's a messy bitch and that's what makes him so great.

He's tortured by love.

He loves his father who doesn't love him back in the way he needs

He loves his mother even though her love burns and stabs

He loves his sister to the point of deifying her but her love is kindness and gentle

He loves his sect and his people to the point he picks up a banner in defiance by himself and raises it back into existence in a matter of months

He loves his nephew. He would kill for him, die for him, protect him to his last breath. But most importantly he would live for him

Which is necessary because he loves Wei Wuxian to the point that his whole world revolves around him. He loves him and is loved by him even though his love both burns and soothes. He loves him so much that its only right that Wei Wuxian's golden core is inside him. Because everything he is, revolves around his brother. The knowledge that it's there is both a constant source of pain and comfort. Because while it's there Wei Wuxian can never truly leave him, but because of that, ultimately, he lost him.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are a tragedy

They loved each other so deeply they destroyed each other.

And worse, they now have to both live past that destruction and continue to live.

And even though they both have found their own happiness, their own reasons to live...the absence of the other will never truly heal.

Especially not for Jiang Cheng who has yet to tell his hidden secrets.

So he hides his love as he always has. With shouting and sarcasm and empty threats of violence that those who know and love him can see right through.

That's why Jiang Cheng is my favourite MDZS character

[conkers-thecosy]

Bagginshield-tober / Day 4 / Company

Hey folks! Here's my offering for day four of the lovely @smolestboop's "Bagginshield-tober" prompt list 💛

You can also find these little snippets compiled into one fic on AO3

*Warnings for nightmares and light trauma symptoms.*

~*~*~

It took a lot to break the will of Thorin Oakenshield.

The madness of his grandfather had not broken him. The dragon and destruction of his home had not broken him. The years of wandering and starvation, and leading a grieving and desolate people had not broken him. Not even the death of his younger brother, nor the loss of his father had broken him. 

Immovable. Headstrong. Unyielding.

His mother had often called him pig-headed, though with the love and fondness that came from one who knew it would be the source of great strength for him over the years. His sister had called him muleish, though with more exasperation than their mother ever had. Strong-willed, Balin had told him, kindly, and with great sadness before he had left to head back West with Bilbo.

Bilbo.

Nothing had ever swayed Thorin from a decision he had made, no one could talk him out of a course of action that he had become set upon. He would always plant his feet and stand firm, determined and unwavering in the face of all things… save for one small Hobbit.

“No… no, please… don’t…”

Sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and hands in his hair, Thorin could only listen to the quiet cries of his dearest friend and greatest love from the room next door. It was agony to feel so useless, to be so close, and yet unable to do anything. He had promised himself he would give Bilbo the space he needed to deal with his trauma, knowing full well it had come at Thorin’s own hands in the first place. He shook with the silent desperation of wanting to make this right, of needing to offer comfort, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

It might even make things worse, he tried to reason with himself, as another small whimper sliced through his already broken heart. For Bilbo to dream so fearfully of what had passed between them on top of the ramparts, Thorin deep in his madness, twisted by the lure of the Arkenstone. It would be cruel for him to awaken to the face of his aggressor, who so haunted his nights. He would wake soon, anyway. He always woke himself, then settled fairly quickly afterwards. All Thorin had to do was wait…

“Thorin!”

At the terrified cry of his own name, he could not help himself. He was on his feet and through Bilbo’s door before he even registered what he had done, and the Hobbit was awake, his eyes wide and fearful and hurt, and Thorin knew he had made a mistake, but he had been seen now, he was here, and what was he to do…? 

“Thorin,” Bilbo said again, looking right at him with the fear melting away to be replaced by something akin to relief. His hair was a mess, sticking out wildly in all directions, his sheets rucked up, and one of his pillows had fallen to the floor beside his bed from where he had been shifting about so restlessly. Thorin saw all this, but it was eclipsed by Bilbo reaching out a small, shaking hand to him, and speaking with a tremor in his voice. “Please?”

Again, Thorin moved on impulse, unable to ignore such a plea. He walked quickly to Bilbo’s bedside and took the outstretched hand as gently as he could. Bilbo grasped him with both hands then, and pressed his knuckles to his forehead in an oddly reverent manner. 

“You’re real,” he whispered, almost to himself. “You’re alive, and you’re here.”

“You… you feared me dead?”

Bilbo didn’t look at him, didn’t move even a muscle save from the trembling of his small frame. “I dream of it all the time. That I was too late to warn you on Ravenhill, that I stayed to argue with Gandalf instead of immediately coming to find you. I dream that… that Fili and Kili… that they died horrifically and senselessly, and that you… you were… on the ice, bleeding to death, and I could do nothing but hold your hand and watch. It… it feels so real, Thorin. I am so afraid that I will wake and it will all be real, and you won’t be here.”

Thorin could hardly believe what he was hearing, even as the words came tumbling out of the still shaking Hobbit like a shameful confession. He knelt, very slowly so as not to startle Bilbo, clasping his other, much larger hand over the two small ones still holding onto him tightly, as if afraid he would vanish otherwise. 

He wanted to ask if Bilbo truly meant what he said, if it was not Thorin’s rage and threats at the gates that caused him to cry out in the darkness with fear, but he already knew the answer. Bilbo was not a liar, and even if he stretched the truth occasionally, there was no way even his quick tongue could have fabricated such sorrow and heartbreak in such a manner. It was so earnest and true, there could be no questioning the sincerity of his words.

All this time Thorin had stayed away, thinking his presence would only make things worse, when in fact proof of his life and continued existence was what would bring the Hobbit comfort most. He felt like a prize fool for not asking, simply asking, too stuck in his own guilt to offer what aid he could. 

“I could stay, if you would like?” he offered quietly, then shrank back a little as Bilbo looked up in surprise. “Only if you would like me to. I could fetch a chair and sit by the bed until you fall asleep?”

“Oh,” said Bilbo, still wide eyed, though his face a little darker from the blush that would be staining his cheeks. “Well, I would feel terrible making you sit up so that I might rest…”

“We both know I’m not sleeping, anyway,” Thorin brushed this concern aside with a wry smile, immediately feeling better for acknowledging their shared troubles. “If you would like my company, I would be more than willing to stay.” 

Bilbo fidgeted a little, then released Thorin’s hands slowly. For a moment the dwarf thought he was about to be told no, that he had misread the situation after all, and was perhaps over-stepping some kind of personal boundaries, until Bilbo scooted across the bed and patted the mattress beside himself in invitation. 

“I’ll not have you in a chair all night, but perhaps we might both sleep a little better for some company?”

It took a lot to break the will of Thorin Oakenshield, but in this instance, he found no will to be broken - only a relieved acceptance, as he passed the night beside the one he loved, and they both found a little peace.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/xabura/752028677741608960/bryke-confirming-that-katara-loves-aang-like-a?source=share

What do you think of this? Apparently Bryke themselves said Katara loves Aang like a babysitter or brother. I don’t understand it? This is coming from the actual creators of the show even though I never got that vibe from Kataang despite what the ZKs say. Does that mean they were right?

If Bryke had said "Ozai is not abusive, he is just strict" it would not suddenly erase the canonical proof of abuse that is literally burned into Zuko's face. Yang can say he didn't write Zuko to be an abusive piece of shit in the comics, but I saw him literally throwing Azula in a place that, by Yang's own admission, only made her condition worse.

I saw Katara get jealous when other girls were paying attention to him as early as episode four of the first damn season, and then ten episodes later looking intrigued and even happy at the possibility that maybe they are fated to get married when they're older.

I've seen her blushing next to him like she did with Jet and Haru. I saw her doing a romantic dance with him. I saw her wanting to kiss him and then getting offended when he said he didn't want to kiss her.

If I saw a babysitter doing that to a child, I'd call the freaking cops. And if Katara had done any of that stuff with Sokka, Nickelodeon would not have let Avatar air (I'm still surprised the bedroom scene in The Awakening didn't get scrapped or at least severely altered).

And speaking of Sokka, I never saw Katara teasing Aang in a sisterly way like she did with Sokka, and with Zuko. I never saw Aang say that, when he thinks of "mother", he thinks "Katara" like Sokka does.

Instead I saw Aang and Katara hanging out, and him reminding her, IN THE FIRST EPISODE, that she was ALSO a kid. And then Katara immediately got attached to him because, in her own words, he had brought FUN back to the vilage.

(And before someone inevitably brings up her dressing up as his mom in "The Headband" - she also dressed up as Sokka's heavily pregnant wife. Read into it if you want, but be consistent. You can't cherry-pick one aspect of the scene and ignore the entire context).

They're children. They're peers. They're friends. Maybe Bryke wanted to add a "But she's also the mom/older sister/babysitter" aspect to it, but if that really is the case, then they fucking failed at it in an absurd way.

Like, if you want her to be "the babysitter" make her baby him, not treat him as an equal even when she's in the role of Sifu with him as the student.

Now, if Zutarians want to use this word of God moment as undeniable proof that Kataang is "weird", fine by me. I'll disagree because I actually DO like "weird" ships and Katang didn't interest me for the longest time exactly because it LACKED any weirdness, but whatever.

But if they expected that shut down differing opinions, once again, they gotta be consistent: Bryke also said that Zutara is toxic, would have no future, and that characters don't like each other like that.

If they want to have the right to disagree with them on that, they can't turn around and say "But you gotta take their word as law when it validates half my point!"

Either everyone is free to agree to disagree, even if they're disagreeing with the creators of the show, or no one is. Either everyone can engage in Death Of The Author when they genuinely think the intention doesn't match the text, or no one can.

If they wanna disagree with Bryke on the anti-zutara thing, but agree with them on the babysitter thing, fine. But they don't get to act all shocked when people do the reverse and pretend it's somehow hypocritical of us to do the same thing THEY are doing.

(Also it's very funny of zutarians to constantly cry "Male gaze" because "Oh, it's just young boy having a crush on an older girl" like they aren't CONSTANTLY using "What girl goes for the younger guy instead of the older one?" as an argument for their ship. Funny how fantasies and tropes are only bad when it's not THEIR fantasy or prefered trope)

[bucket-barnes]

Memories: Harriet Hook

(This was an idea I had in my algebra class the other day so enjoy some brain vomit)

Harriet remembers her mother the most. She remembered the stories her mother told her about deuls with dark fairies and true love’s kiss, Harriet’s favorite story was the one about the one handed pirate captain who fell for the lost girl, how they’d do anything for each other, even go to hell and back for each other…literally

Harriet was eleven when her mother passed. Harriet became a big sister for the second time shortly before her mother’s passing, she loved her little brother and baby sister, all she wanted was to protect them. When her mother was dying, Harriet would distract her siblings by taking them to Ursula’s fish and chips, then Harriet wouldn’t have to see her father cry, CJ could be fed, and Harry could see the girl with the teal braids he had become rather fond of.

Whispers always followed Harriet and her siblings wherever they went

“Those poor hook children, losing their mother so young” the women at Lady Tremaine’s curl up and dye would whisper loudly, Harriet knew they didn’t care, they just liked the drama, she’d always hold Harry close and tell him it wasn’t true, they weren’t losing their mother…everything would be ok

“Wonder if Hook’s returned to the bottle” the men at the chip shoppe would laugh, Harriet would always shoot them dirty looks and tell Harry not to listen to them…those men don’t know what they’re talking about

The day Harriet’s mother died, she held her hand and promised she’d take care of her family, that she wouldn’t let Harry succumb to the voices in his head, that she wouldn’t let CJ grow up not knowing who her mother was, and that she wouldn’t let her father return to the darkness. Harriet was left one thing from her mother…a red jacket, her armor

Harriet was twelve when her life gained routine. She’d wake up Harry and tell him to get ready for school while she helped Mr.Smee carry her father, who had already made his way through a bottle of rum, below deck so he’d be out of sight and could drown his grief without shattering his son’s vision of him, then she’d make sure Harry ate and took whatever medication she found on the barges that week, if she was lucky, the voices in her brother’s head would stay quiet for the morning and he’d make it to school fashionably late, she’d give his shoulder a squeeze and remind him that if the voices came back to stay with Uma and come find her, then she’d be able to enjoy the respite from her home that school gave her…but she wasn’t often lucky.

Most days the mysterious medications only made the voices worse, so Harriet would sit with her little brother in their room, holding him close while he covered his ears with his hands and begged for the voices to shut up and for the visions to go away. She’d tell him that it wasn’t real, and then she’d tell him that he was ok after the medication inevitably made him sick…she’d stay home those days

Harriet did her best to make sure CJ knew who their mother was, she’d tell her stories of their mother, stories about duels with dark fairies and true love’s kiss…though CJ’s favorite was the one about Neverland, where the lost girl and the one handed pirate captain bested Peter Pan in an epic battle. CJ would ask why Harriet would always wear the same red jacket, and Harriet would tell her that it was her armor

Harriet was fourteen when she first joined her father for a drink. It was a warm summer night, and in between swigs of rum, Harriet and her father would talk about her mother, the stories of duels and true love’s kiss replaced with grief and quiet tears. Harriet truly understood her father the nights she drank with him, the world was cruel, and he just needed to numb the pain… the pain of losing his wife, the pain of his eldest daughter growing up to fast, the pain of his son hearing voices that had no source and seeing things that weren’t there, the pain of his youngest daughter never truly knowing her mother

Harriet would go to bed late, her mind numb with alcohol, finally taking off her armor. She’d sleep and dream of duels with dark fairies and true love’s kiss…and of the one handed pirate captain who fell for the lost girl, how they’d do anything for each other, even go to hell and back for each other…literally

[writingsofwesteros]

Canon Nora is just as stubborn as social media au Nora https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/752430300488957952/httpswwwtumblrcomwritingsofwesteros752406540?source=share

The doors opened, and Jace and Lord Stark entered. She straightened her back, and looked up at them both defiantly- even if she felt demeaned by wearing the clothes he had picked out for her. Just because the gowns were befitting a Queen, did not mean she was respected- he dressed her in the colours of the blacks, red and black, like his mother, or his dead cousin Baela- and worse, gowns that pushed her breasts up as though she were some common whore. All her green gowns were burnt, though he strangely allowed her mother a mercy by letter her wear the blue she requested, rather than black. "Princess," Lord Stark nodded towards her, as Jace stepped closer. "Lord Stark....Your Grace," She forced herself to say, and she could practically claw at Jace's smug expression. "There is one thing that must be done before our wedding, dear Nora." Jace said, and she glared at him harshly. "What more could you want?" She spat. "You are to publicly kneel before the King, and renounce the late usurper King Aegon, the late Prince Regent Aemond, and swear your fealty to King Jacaerys Targaryen." Cregan said, and she felt the blood rush to her head and her heart ache simultaneously.

The loss of her brothers and sister were slowly gnawing away at her, and the only thing that kept her sane was knowing that someone had to stand up for her poor mother. But to publicly renounce them...she could not, not her dearest Aeg, not Aemond-

"What is the point? The realm knows I am to marry you." She said. "Let us not be naive, Daenora. It was known that you shared both your brothers' bed. You are not just sister to the traitors, you shared their bed, you were as integral a part of their treachery as Otto Hightower." Jace told her. "Some even say that...Aemond secretly wed you. Some say Aegon took you as a second wife, so as to try and keep the late Queen Helaena from descending into madness-" "A madness you caused," Nora snarled. "You bastards killed an innocent child, Jaehaerys was innocent-" "Lucerys was innocent!" Jace roared as he grabbed her face, staring into her eyes. "He was only trying to do his duty, he did nothing wrong-" "Nothing wrong?" Nora scoffed. "You are a fool- he flew there knowing the risks. The difference between you and I is that I do not make my family into martyrs, Jace. I know Aegon was flawed, I know Aemond was cruel, I loved them still- but do not pretend that Lucerys never did an ill deed when he nearly killed my brother that night in Driftmark. If you are so eager to ignore the truth, then your reign shall be one rife with denial, and chaos- weak, like my father's." Jace let go of her, and Cregan held him back before he could reach for her again. "The servants shall dress you, and you shall attend court in an hour. Be ready to do what is needed." Cregan said gruffly as he followed Jace out.

I adore you, you should write for the show . I wish I could match your skills :(

Jace being too damn emotion. Idiotic boy.

Nora spitting facts thank you very much.

How sweet of Alicent to have her blues back 🥺🥺

Cregan being as hot as ever ( why do I imagine Nora trying to seduce her way out of this with the wolf )

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #41: The Contents of Several Unopened Envelopes Delivered to Kane de Sang

Masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, angst / emotional whump, discussion of abusive relationship

beginning takes place a few days after Clean Break.

-

Dear Kane,

I’ve moved into my own house. It feels strange, living in a house by myself. It’s quiet. Not that my family home was loud, but there were people. Now there’s no Father, no Mother, no sisters, no servants. No you. Just me.

I’m not alone, of course. I’ve talked to you about my other friends before. They’ve been marvelously helpful, Sylvia especially. I know I’ve said this before, but I think you would like them all. I know they would like you, too, as long as you don’t say anything rude. As always, if you ever want to meet them, let me know.

I’m sure you’ve heard all about the disaster of my eighteenth birthday party, though you didn’t attend. I thought Father might faint. You should have seen the look on his face when I told everyone, it was glorious! He was even more upset than you were.

I know you said not to read your letter, but I did. I apologize. For the record, my answer is a resounding YES. Should you still like to move in with me, nothing would make me happier. I know it was a rather big fight, but you’re my best friend. We’ve made it through worse, have we not?

My new address is attached for you to reply. You don’t need to put a name on the envelope, if you want to keep it a secret. That way your parents wouldn’t know who you’re sending it to.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Dear Kane,

We haven’t seen each other in the longest we’ve ever gone without, I believe. Unless you count the just-shy-of-a-year between my birth and yours. If you sent along a reply to my last letter, I’m afraid it was lost in the mail before it could make its way to me. Or perhaps my own letter was the one that was lost. Though I understand it’s far more likely you simply didn’t reply, just in case, I shall repeat the most important point: I’ve read your letter, my answer is YES.

I’ve managed to acquire ethically-sourced blood. I must admit it is not the most delectable, as you’d predicted, due to the considerable distance it must travel from an area with more amicable interspecies relations. However, such is a small price to pay in order to sustain myself in a way that does not harm others.

I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to since I left. I think about you quite a lot. Honestly, you’re the only one I still think about, although it’s only been a month. I’d be happy if I never spoke to Father again. I’ve an urge to go back under the cover of day, with one of those full-coverage suits and a large brimmed hat, just to throw garish paint over his house. But I know you would say this is improper and irresponsible behavior, so I will make an effort to restrain myself.

I miss you.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Dear Kane,

I kissed a man.

I don’t know why I’m telling you. It’s been three months and you haven’t replied, so it’s unlikely you’ll respond to this one either. But you would have been the first one I’d tell if things were still like before, so I felt as though I have to. I won’t bore you with the details, but it was nice. I thought you’d like to know, maybe.

We’re not courting. It’s different out here in the real world. You’re allowed to just try things out. The nobility is properly cultish in ways, quite honestly. I think you would like the real world a lot if you gave it a try. My offer still stands. My answer is still yes.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Dear Kane,

I really miss you. I was thinking about it and decided I must write you another letter. I know you were always the one more inclined toward mathematics in our studies, and I’ve taken a page out of your book. Doing the proper research and all. Were you aware that there is a 0.0027% chance that all three of my letters were lost in the mail? I must say, my academic interests still tend toward art and literature, but probability can be fascinating in certain scenarios, when it matters. Not that it matters, as I’m no longer a schoolboy. I’m an adult now. Only 5 months until you are as well!

I was wondering how you were doing. Are you planning on taking a human? No one expects you to have to do that, you’re aware. It’s dangerous due to your condition. I don’t mean this in a condescending way, you know I would never. I simply worry for your safety. Humans have upped their defenses in recent years. I’ve never taken one, and in half a year I’ve managed to make a nice life for myself. You could too, if you wanted.

You know I don’t agree with human-keeping. But if you do, please be safe.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Dear Kane,

Happy birthday!

I couldn’t not send a letter, even if you won’t send one back. Congratulations on coming of age. I’m otherwise strictly not in contact with my family, but I asked Katarina just because I was concerned, and she said that you do not plan on taking a human. It’s for the best, really. You don’t need that. Your parents are even bigger pricks than my own, somehow.

She also told me there will be no celebration, despite the milestone. I know how crushing that must be for you, especially as I’m not even there for our usual bash with just the two of us. I want you to know that my door is always open to you. I will be sure to be home on the eve of your eighteenth. I’m hoping this letter arrives a few days before then. Should you like, you can stop by and we can celebrate.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Kane de Sang

🎊 You have been cordially invited to Bellamy Verta’s 19th birthday! 🎊

Flip this card for time, date, and location information.

-

Dear Kane,

I know by now that you don’t read these, but I’ve found myself in a bit of an uncomfortable situation, and I’m desperate for your advice. You always gave the best advice, before. Or you usually did. Sylvia says I need to stop writing to you because I’m only hurting myself, but she doesn’t know you. She would like you if she knew you like I do.

I started seeing someone several months ago. My third relationship now, actually. Quite a lot has happened since my last letter. I am proud to now call myself experienced in the art of homosexual activity!

Anyhow, regarding the matter at hand. Henry is a lovely person who I get on with quite well. He reminds me of you in some ways. However, lately he has been acting differently. To put it bluntly, he has become violent with me on multiple occasions. But then afterwards, he’s always back to his normal, kind self again, and I’m all healed by the next night. All my other friends are telling me to break it off, but he’s not always like this. Only sometimes. And other than that, he’s perfect. But it has been more often as of late. It’s hard to explain it all in a letter. If you are in fact reading these, would you be willing to meet and catch up?

I can picture it now. You would shake me by the shoulders and demand I come to my well-lacking senses. Or perhaps you would complicate matters by exchanging blows with him. I don’t think you would be pleased with the situation. But I believe this can be salvaged, if only I can find the right thing to say to him to make him understand that this is frightening me.

I’m also curious as to what you’ve been up to. I miss you.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Dear Kane,

Maybe you do read these. I’m unsure. I thought I’d send along an update, just in case you are reading and not responding. I know you would have been worried about me if that was the case. I did end up breaking things off with Henry. He did not react well, but it’s over now.

I’m still interested in catching up, should you like to. I apologize if that was too much to put on you. We aren’t even really friends anymore, I suppose. But I’d like to be again.

Despite that bump, things have been pretty wonderful. There are so many things I wish I could share with you. I think you would be really happy here, if you gave it a chance.

7.29e-8%, otherwise known as 0.0000000729%. I think the point at which they start introducing “e” to mathematics is when the whole subject becomes truly irredeemable.

Yours truly, Bellamy Verta

-

Dear Kane,

I anticipate that this will be my last letter. Unless you respond, of course.

There will always be room in my heart for you. I would not be the person I am today without your friendship. But I have a new life now, a far better life than I did before, even if there are still troubles. And, though supportive, my friends are tired of hearing my heart ache for you. I find myself agreeing with them. I’m tired of it, too. It’s been a year and a half.

I wish nothing but the best for you, always. My door is always open to you should you change your mind and decide to get in contact. If I ever have a change-of-address, I shall send notice by mail, so you will be able to reach me.

I suppose this is goodbye. I would rewrite this on paper clear of teardrop stains, but I sincerely doubt you’ll be reading this anyway, so I shall leave it as-is.

I always loved you. I still do.

Bellamy Verta

-

drabbles posted between #40 and #41:

Accident (Epilogue #1.5)

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@wits-and-wrongs

@wolfeyedwitch

[nikkiruncks]

https://www.tumblr.com/hydesjackiespuddinpop/727401727191597056/angst-prompts?source=share

Hiya, Poorni ❤️! Could I request prompt 7 with Laurie calling out Kitty and the T7S gang for disregarding the "moron" friends telling them about Eric/Casey while Red offers Eric some much-needed comfort?

"Eric, are you sure you don’t want to say anything? You know you can tell me anything, right?" Kitty said for the millionth time. Eric refrained from rolling his eyes since this was his mother talking. But it was truly frustrating how she was constantly disrespecting his boundaries. He told her he wasn’t ready several times. And this incessant prying is only making him want to tell his mother less.

Before Eric could say anything, Laurie chimed in. "For the last fucking time mom, he said he's not ready to talk about it." She rolled her eyes. Despite not always getting along with Eric, he was still her little brother. And as his older sister, it was her job to be by his side.

Kitty had a stern look on her face, "Laurie language! Can't you see I'm trying to have a conversation with your brother?" That earned a scoff from Laurie. "If you call prying and disrespecting his boundaries a ‘conversation', no fucking way. And I’m 20 so I'm allowed to swear if I want."

Hyde chimed in, "Also no offense Mrs.Forman, but didn't you call a Donna a 'slut' and a 'red-haired tramp'? Last time I checked man, that's way worse." He regretted slut shaming Laurie looking back. Even though they had their differences, Hyde knew he shouldn't have gone there.

Laurie looked over at the gang, "You guys aren't the hook either. The 'moron' group told me they warned you about Eric and Casey but you also didn't do shit. And even acted like they were being delusional." She rolled her eyes. "And I thought I was bad…"

Eric began to enter a state of panic as he heard basically everyone around him arguing. He felt a tap on his shoulder and look to see his father. "Wanna get out of here son?" Red asked. Eric nodded and began to follow him to the living room.

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Shallan Davar kind of hates her brothers. Sometimes, at least. They are lucky that she kind of loves them, too. Granted, not as much as she hates and loves herself (there is nothing "kind of" about that. Only sometimes). But still.

Her father is always doing his best to beat indifference into her (metaphorically at least) while her tutors call her a monster whenever she lets it slip how little she cares. Easy for them to say. They get to leave, after all. So it is proof of how important her brothers are to her, that she cares so much. Even if those feelings toe the line between loathing and disgust sometimes.

You can't really blame her, though. They are a bit pathetic. She isn't sure if it is something inherent to her or another piece molded by her father, but Shallan has always appreciated strength. It is only in the definition of what makes a strong person that her and father's opinions deviate. Most of the time, at least. (Probably not as often as she'd like).

Three older boys - men, really - with their entire sense of joy depending upon the whims of one little girl? Sometimes she can understand Helaran's urge to leave. Other times she thinks he is the most pathetic of them all.

Then again, she supposes it is not their fault. It was by design, after all. In a way, this is another twisted way father favored her. He breaks them apart so she can glue them back together. Because maybe she is weak, but she knows that they are even worse. Shallan, so kind, so delicate, so feminine, so submissive. Shallan, so observant and so smart, always aching, always better.

Her brothers are easy to figure out. Love, jokes, something to do. Most people are, if you strip back their layers of angst and self-important. In the end, all everyone wants is to be wanted.

(She is not exempt from that. She knows she is not exempt from that and she loathes it with everything in her being because it makes her feel stupid and vain and weak. It makes her average. Like everyone else.

So she locks it away, like everything else she is scared of. Aren't they easy, she'll think, seeing her brother's eyes lighten up when he receives another letter. And, if only for a moment, she'll feel good. A confirmation of what she already knows.)

Shallan has always loathed weakness, so of course she took the first chance to get out of there on her own. Wikim's laugh, once a warm blanket of approval, makes her want to grit her teeth. Balat's sad attempts at leadership, once a source of amusement, now make her want to punch him in the face. She could do a better job. She knows she could because she already did - rescuing her older brothers from despair. But they still just see her as a little girl. And Jushu? Everything about him vexes her. She can't hear any of their voices without wanting to throw up. "I'll do it for the family", she had said, amping up her part as the demure little sister. "You're so brave, Shallan" "You are our salvation, Shallan" "I know you can do it, Shallan".

Shallan looks over at her betrothed, his hair golden beneath the sunlight. Adolin Kholin is a beautiful man. And he wants her. (Of course he does - just like Jasnah wanted her brain, just like her brothers wanted her clever tongue, just like her father wanted her heart, just like her mother wanted her head)

Shallan looks over at her betrothed and smiles at him.

(A small ugly part of her was relieved that Jasnah didn't make it. At least she didn't have to go through it again. Watching helplessly as feelings of admiration and affection turn into anger and disgust. No way to escape or to stop it.)

Adolin Kholin, so strong, so handsome, so talented, so powerful.

(She thinks back to her brothers. She looks forward to being able to spend time with them again. She prays that, by the time they meet again, the distaste will have run its course. At least for now. She misses being able to stomach their presence and it hurts.)

The firstborn of the arguably most important man in the east and a girl from a small indebted house slowly collapsing into itself.

She wonders how much time they have.

[uchiwife]

𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗦

Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Itachi/Original Female Character(s)

Tags: AU–Modern Setting, light angst, jealousy, lust, dubious morality, sexual tension, unrequited love?, POV Haruno Sakura.

Warnings: (implied) Infidelity, sex mentioned (but no smut)

Words: 464

Summary: 𝖲𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿𝗂𝗌𝗁. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾? 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾, 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈. 𝖨𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖮𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

a/n: English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse me for any mistakes I might commit in it. ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

Summer heat was unbearable. The only thing that kept her from melting was the slight breeze in her hair. That and the little flowery summer dress she was wearing. Sakura sighed, her emerald eyes scanning her surroundings. Her gaze fell on a couple kissing. When she recognized the tuft of black hair, her heart sank. She wanted to look away, she really wanted to, but she couldn't.

They looked in love, lost in their own world and the sight alone was enough to make her sad. A more petty part of her also felt angry, jealous. He had told her that morning that they couldn't be together. He hadn't explicitly said that the night they had spent together was a mistake, but he hadn't seemed enthusiastic about breaking up with his girlfriend either.

She snorted.

His ‘perfect’ little girlfriend. "That's cute," she thought mockingly, “they have the same hair and eye color. He might as well fuck his sister at this point.”

She chided herself inwardly for her pettiness. She was jealous, she didn't mean it. But she would love to steal her boyfriend though. This was the ugly truth. She felt awful but she couldn't help it. She wanted him so badly. Her eyelids closed as memories of tangled limbs, rapid breathing, moans and fiery kisses flooded her mind. She felt heat rise in her very core and squeezed her thighs together to relieve the ache between them, but that only made things worse.

"Stop it, Sakura. He's already taken."

She bit her lip, guilt gnawing at her. A movement in her peripheral vision made her look up and her eyes suddenly found his. Her heartbeat quickened. Damn it. He must have sensed she was staring at them. She blushed with embarrassment, and if it weren't for his smirk, she would have looked away already. Was he taunting her? If so, why?

Her eyes followed his every move, hypnotized. His lips kissed the woman's on his lap, bending her to his desires, if Naori had her eyes closed, Itachi's gaze was directed straight at her. He was playing with her. Ugh, of course he was, she should have seen it coming. She watched helplessly as they kissed passionately, remembering perfectly what his sinful tongue could do.

She hated him for doing this to her, but it made her want him even more. If he couldn't be with her, then why was he tempting her like this? This man was infuriating. It was clear to Sakura now that Uchiha Itachi was going to be the source of many of her torments.

Itachi had a girlfriend, and yet, yet… His pretty black eyes smoldering with desire seemed to be directed right at her. Maybe fooling around with someone else's boyfriend wasn't so bad after all?

Hello guys! ◠‿◠

First of all, I hope you’re well!

Second, please know that this is not part of a fic or anything. I wrote it when I participated in a "sprint" on Discord but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.🤎

Feedback is appreciated and welcomed.🥰 As usual, if you don't know what to say, comment with emojis. Also, I notice and recognize some of your usernames on my posts and it warms my heart to know that I have regular readers (if I can call you that.) Once again, THANK YOU for your support. Whether it is given silently or openly.

I send you all my love.🥹💕

x

𝓜𝓮𝓲𝓴𝓪.❥

[fantasyandromancelover]

The Grinning Man AU

So I've become totally obsessed with this amazing new musical called The Grinning Man which is based on Victor Hugo's novel The Man Who Laughs. So obsessed that I decided to write an AU of it using Fairy Tail. I will also be incorporating a few things from other adaptions of Hugo's other works.

During a snow storm in London, a boy called Gray escapes from a figure who brutally murdered his parents and then mutilated his face. Shortly afterward, he discovers a couple who froze to death and their young, daughter Juvia who's still alive but suffering from hypothermia. Unable to leave her to die, he takes her with him. The two then encounter a cat called Shagotte who leads the two children to a camp where she stays with her kitten Carla and her master, Juvia's older brother Jellal, who had been separated from his family by the storm. Though heartbroken by the deaths of his parents, he is relieved that at least his sister still lives.

Jellal is able to cure Juvia of hypothermia but the extreme cold leaves her blind and with a weak heart and that combined with the loss of their mother and father causes him to be forever protective of her. Although horrified by Gray's face, Jellal shares his camp with him out of kindness and gratitude for saving Juvia's life. Gray suffers from moments of PTSD and nightmares from his family's murder and his mutilation, so Jellal gives him a potion that makes him forget his horrific past.

Jellal begins a career as a traveling storyteller and puppeteer while looking after the two children who form a deep connection with each other. Gray serves as her eyes and Juvia serves as his source of comfort whenever the world scowls at him for his face. They find happiness through stories and each other, and Juvia secretly prays that they will never be apart.

Years pass, Gray grows into a strong young man, attractive except for the scarred, lower half of his face which he keeps covered by a scarf, while Juvia remains blind but grows into a beautiful and innocent young woman. They along with Jellal, earn a meagre living in the fairs of London, putting on puppet shows and acting out stories. But wherever they go, Gray is always ridiculed by others for his face. He acts as if the mockery does not bother him but Juvia who loves Gray, knows that it hurts him deeply and always tells him that there's nothing wrong with him. Gray is in love with Juvia but denies his feelings for her because he believes himself unworthy of her. He also longs to learn about his past and to find the one who killed his parents and cut his face so he can avenge both.

Meanwhile Natsu is a dashing and heroic guard in the royal court, who enjoys the fairs of London and unlike most people, is very kind to all of the "Undesirables" who reside in the area. One day he and his cat Happy defend Gray from a group of men who harass him but ends up slightly injured in the process. To show his appreciation, Gray takes Natsu to have his injuries treated by Jellal, leading to the two men becoming friends and Happy becoming enamoured with the now adult Carla.

Gray apologizes for getting Natsu into trouble, claiming that's all his face has ever done but Natsu only brushes it off, claiming that he's been through far worse. He then reveals that he's a notorious womanizer but it is only to hide the fact that he is in love with the beautiful and rebellious duchess Lucy. He desires to marry Lucy, but Lucy's half-sister Erza, who became queen after the death of their father, the wretched King Faust, won't allow such a union. Jellal over hearing their conversation, can relate to Natsu's problem, telling Juvia that long ago he too fell in love with a woman of title but it was tragically not meant to be.

At the castle, Queen Erza scolds Lucy for shrinking her duties and acting carelessly. Lucy then replies that their father has kept them both locked up their entire lives and now that he's dead, she wishes to go out and explore the world but Erza believes that Lucy is too naive to be out there on her own and will only permit her sister's request if she first marries a man who can take care of her and keep her safe. Lucy is frustrated by this and wishes to marry for love rather than convenience but Erza forbids it having once fallen for a man of humble birth only for their father to cruelly separate them. Later Natsu visits Lucy and invites her to sneak out with him to the fair in order to cheer her up. Lucy returns Natsu's love but is frustrated with his flirtatious nature and does not believe that he truly loves her at all.

The two sneak off to the fair but they're secretly followed by Mard Geer, a conniving, manipulative, and ruthless agent of the court who is supposedly a trusted advisor to Lucy but is secretly plotting to somehow eliminate Erza so Lucy will replace her as queen and he can rule England through her. The three of them witness Gray and Juvia performing at the fair but during the show, Gray's scarf falls off and everyone is horrified and disgusted by his scars. Natsu and Lucy are only quietly shocked, the others proceed to throw stones and insults at him, but Mard recognizes him. We then learn that years ago, the wealthy but compassionate Lord and Lady Fullbuster went against King Faust when he massacred an entire village of innocents. The couple were then arrested and hanged for treason by Mard who mutilated the face of their young son. Mard quickly realizes that Gray is Lord Fullbuster's son and fears the wrath of Queen Erza should she ever learn he did such an evil thing.

After the show, Lucy catches Natsu flirting with another woman and storms off while Juvia tends to Gray. She pleads with him not to believe what other people say about him. She calls him beautiful and admits her love for him. Touched, Gray holds her, kisses her, and almost confesses his own true feelings but his insecurity gets the better of him. He then tells Juvia that the kiss was only a moment of vulnerability and tells her that he only sees her as a friend. Juvia is hurt by this but accepts his choice. Gray then receives a letter from someone who claims to know Gray and asking them to meet somewhere. Excited by the prospect of finally discovering who he is, Gray goes to meet this person by the bridge. However he's unaware that it was Merd who sent the letter and he intends to kill Gray once he gets him alone.

Gray arrives at the bridge earlier than expected and he meets Lucy who is sulking. She voices her woes to him, he comforts her. Lucy then hears Natsu calling her and gets the idea make him jealous by kissing Gray. This causes Gray to panic and again his scarf falls off, the sight of his scars causes Lucy to scream which leads to Natsu presuming that Gray was trying to rape her. Enraged, he arrests Gray. Lucy tries to explain but Mard convinces her not to, seeing this as an opportunity to take advantage.

In the dudgeon, Mard prepares to execute Gray but is stopped by Erza who wishes to hear his side of the story first. She is moved upon seeing Gray's face and notices that he bears a strong resemblance to Lord Silver Fullbuster. Not wanting the queen to investigate, Mard tells her that the lord's son disappeared the night he and his wife died and that the boy was said to have been mutilated.The queen deduces that Gray is the missing heir to the Fullbuster line and makes him a lord. He is brought to his family's former estate and reunited with their most loyal servant Gildarts and his daughter Cana. Gray starts to remember things but still can't recall the night he lost his parents and was mutilated. Nevertheless, he's happy to have finally discovered who he is and where he belongs.

He goes to thank Erza for her kindness but she replies that she only wants to make amends for her father's cruelty toward him. She even offers him Lucy's hand in marriage, seeing that he is a man of title with a good heart. Gray is flattered but refuses, requesting that he marry Juvia instead, believing himself worthy of her now.

When Gray does not return, Jellal and Carla go to look for him but is captured by Mard who tortures him for information on how Gray has no memory of his past. Jellal is forced to tell him about the potion that makes Gray forget which gives Mard a wicked idea. He then goes back to the fair to steal the potion and a bottle of poison, but not before boasting to Jellal that it was he who scarred Gray and killed his family. Natsu and Juvia catch him, Mard tells them of Gray's new position and that he is going to marry Lucy much to the horror and devastation of the two. He then locks them in the wagon and sets fire to it, the fire spreads through the entire fair, burning it. Luckily, Happy and Carla help Natsu and Juvia escape, though Natsu loses consciousness from inhaling too much smoke. Juvia finds someone to take care of him and has Happy and Carla lead her to where Jellal is being held. She frees him and takes him to be healed alongside Natsu, but spends the night sobbing over apparently losing Gray forever.

Mard returns to the castle and tells Erza that the fair was burned and that both Natsu and Juvia were killed in the fire. She relays these news to Lucy and Gray who are both heartbroken by the loss of their true loves and guilt-ridden for not confessing what was in their hearts. Mard then suggests that they find comfort in this tragedy by marrying each other. Lucy, seeing no point in dreaming of freedom anymore without Natsu, agrees. But Gray just wants to die, refusing to live without Juvia. But Mard offers him the potion which he tweaked to make him forget his life before becoming a lord. Gray takes the potion and forgets all about Jellal, the fair, the night he was scarred, even Juvia. He and Lucy are arranged to be married but unknown to all, Mard intends to poison Erza's drink at the engagement gala and frame Gray for it, leaving Lucy on the throne and to be Mard's puppet.

When Jellal recovers, he tells Juvia about Mard and that he was the man who cut Gray's face. Sensing that her beloved could be in danger, Juvia and Jellal quickly go to the Fullbuster estate to warn him. He is not there, but Gildarts and Cana are, They tell them that he's gone to the engagement gala at the castle but agree to help them sneak in by giving Jellal one of Lord Silver's suits to wear and dressing Juvia in a gown and jewels that belonged to Lady Mika.

At the gala, Lucy spots Mard carrying two bottles, one of Erza's favorite wine and the other of the poison. She asks him about the second bottle and he lies that it is only medicine to help lower the queen's stress. As for Gray, the potion has him in an emotionless daze and he feels that something is missing and can't remember what.

Juvia and Jellal enter the gala, and Gray is awestruck by Juvia's beauty while Erza appears to recognize Jellal and he, her. Juvia tries to find Gray but runs into Mard who tells her that Gray does not know her anymore and threatens to kill him if she ever tries to see him. Juvia attempts to leave but Gray approaches her and asks her for a dance, she cannot resist and as they dance, he instantly falls in love with her all over again. As this goes on, Jellal and Erza slip away to meet in private where it's revealed that they are each other's lost loves. They tearfully embrace and kiss, admitting that they are still in love with one another. Jellal then pleads with Erza not to let Gray and Lucy marry, telling her that he loves Juvia, proves it by pointing out the way Gray looks at her as they dance. This however confuses Erza because Mard told her that Juvia was dead. Jellal then reveals the man's treachery to her.

When their dance is over, Juvia tries to leave again but Gray begs her to stay, desperately wanting to know who she is and why his heart yearns for her. Suddenly Natsu charges into the castle declaring that he cannot allow Lucy to marry Gray, challenging him to a duel. The two men fight, it becomes too much for Juvia's weak heart and she faints. Gray instantly drops everything to catch her, he holds her in his arms, and they kiss which restores all his memories. Overjoyed that Juvia is alive, Gray finally tells her how he has loved her all along and declares the two of them husband and wife. But then he at long last remembers who killed his parents and cut his face. He fingers Mard and Jellal comes in announcing that Mard is also attempting to absurd the crown.Mard calls them both liars but then Lucy speaks up about the bottle of liquid Mard had planned to slip into Erza's wine. Desperate not to be found out, he attempts to stab Lucy only to strike Natsu who shelters her from the blow. Lucy rushes to his side and professes her love for him. Natsu admits his true feelings as well and reveals that she was the only one he ever wanted.

Furious by all the hurt Mard has caused, Gray tries to kill him but he hears the voices of his late mother and father begging him not to do it, for it would only make him the monster that Mard tried to turn him into. So Gray spares him but Erza has him arrested and assures everyone that he will get what he deserves. She then blesses Natsu and Lucy's union after seeing that he was willing to die for her and she chooses Jellal to be her consort. Later Gray and Juvia marry at the re-built fair as do Natsu and Lucy, and they proclaim before all of London:

"I love Lucy!"

“And I love Natsu!”

"I love Juvia!"

"And I love Gray!"

The two couples then leave London to see the world together, taking along Happy, Carla, and their many, many, kittens.

[thecameronchronicles]

Home

TW:  Language. Mentions of Domestic abuse. Angst.

SUMMARY: A recent injury from your father sends your boyfriend to spiral and prove just how much he cares. To protect him, you find a way to convince him to stay from enduring what you have.

WORD COUNT:1300

*REQUESTED*

Anonymous asked:

Hi! Would you write a Pope x maybank!reader fic, so like the reader is jj’s sister? I don’t have a plot idea other than Luke hitting you for the first time (maybe he would usually only yell at you and hit JJ but one day he hit you when jj wasn’t there and when you get to the chateau you try to hid it but everyone can see something is wrong and they didn’t know that you went home to grab something, so they keep trying to make you talk to them and when you’re changing or something, Pope (your boyfriend) walks in and sees your bruises and cuts from Luke) but like I said, that’s the only plot I can think of so if you have something else in mind, please do that!

*WASN'T SURE IF YOU WANTED SMUT BUT I FELL THIS WAS HOW IT WOULD WORK BEST.*

Home

It had never come to this until now. JJ was usually the one on the receiving end of your father's wrath. But having returned home for Kiara's sweater you had kept long overdue, your father, by title only, made you the sole source of his anger. A wobbling drunk reeking of failed ambitions and the cheapest alcohol able to be purchased in abundance, Luke had followed you around as you were in search of the damned sweater, explicit accusations leaving his slurred speech as you just wanted to leave. But in an attempt to do so, a muttering made from having tripped, he took it as disrespect and sent a hand to your face. 

"You look just like her, you know…after I had to put her in her place to-"

"My mother-" 

"So disrespectful-need to learn some fucking manners…" He mumbled, moving away from the scene and leaving you in tears as you remained stunned for a time before hearing your phone buzz at your hip. A call from your boyfriend as he had expected you at The Chateau an hour prior left him in a state of worry as he knew the situation you had endured. But until now, it was nothing more than crude and even cruel words. But you didn't want Pope to know. You didn't want anyone to. You knew they would only make it worse in the attempt to make it better. So you pulled a dusty cap from the porch and returned to your bike. 

"You couldn't find it?" Kiara asked, forcing your focus to alter to her. 

"No, sorry, I uh…I'll get it next time." Everyone saw the shift in your attitude as you were usually as bubbly as champagne and were now nothing more than a diluted soda-if that. The comparison as humorous as it may be, the situation was anything but. Luckily nobody seemed to notice the wounds left behind as they has yet to bruise and the cut on your lip was able to be concealed as you bit it. But there was one person who knew you best. 

"Babe?" Pope asked in repetition as you just begged internally that nobody would ask you if you were okay as you could feel tears brimming at just the thought. But he knew you too well. 

"I'm just tired…" 

"So I still don't get to see your pretty little smile even though you're-" As he flicked the brim of your hat up, noticing the wounds, he was quick to his feet. Pope was the absolute last person to show emotion as he was the voice of reasons. But when it came to his passions, you being the prime example, he was just as unhinged as your brother, JJ, was about, well everything. 

"Did you go there alone?! I thought JJ was supposed to be there! He put his hands on you?! I'm gonna fucking kill him!" But your fingers were desperate to keep him to you as you knew what your father was capable of. If not against JJ or recently yourself, than for the multitude of barfights he'd been victorious in. 

"Please-"

"He doesn't have the right to hit who he wants because he can't get his shit together! And it's time someone puts him in his place!" Pope was halfway through the door before you were able to wrap your weight around him. 

"I don't want to lose you, please!"

"Nothing is going to happen to me, but he doesn't get to hit you-or anybody else!"

"Please, Pope! He is just looking for a reason to call the cops on any one of you! Please just stay with me-" Your tears were enough to convince him as everyone within the chateau watched on in disbelief. Expressions of contagious pity sat across each of their faces as he looked at all of them and finalizing his focus to you. 

"Are you okay?" The level-headed Pope you knew had returned. Your well-being, first and foremost the focus of importance, as you slowly nodded. 

"Then let's make sure those cuts don't get infected." He led you to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, before pulling the first aid kit from the cabinet at the bottom of the sink. 

"I'm sorry…" He spoke while he hung over the kit, stilled in self loathing as your hands were quick to apprehend his strong shoulders now beneath your fingers. As he faced you, you saw how truly hateful he was for your father. To be honest, it was hard, even impossible, to find anyone who felt anything positive for Luke, but the way it altered Pope was a new degree of loathing. 

"You shouldn't have gone alone…"

"It doesn't matter now. I'm okay, I promise."

"Until next time, you mean. When we can't be there? When JJ is off somewhere else? You shouldn't be there!" He paused, his eyes casting off for only a moment before returning to you. 

"And you won't have to be."

"What?"

"There's enough room here and JJ spends most of it here anyway…and besides, you would be with me. I wouldn't have to miss you and I could make sure that you were taken care of…"

"I-"

"What reason would you have not to? You won't even have to go there yourself. There is enough of us to get your stuff and whatever you don't have, I'll make sure you get-"

"Pope, I-"

"I don't ever want you to feel controlled or threatened, but I'm not giving you a choice with this, baby. You're not going back there. Ever."

Tears fell down your cheeks at the thought. Even though he was abusive and cruel, even though you had watched him spend rent money on alcohol and pills, and even though he had beaten JJ nearly comatose, he was still your father. But with someone like Pope, the thought of family was more than blood and the thought of a home was not where your belongings were kept or the darkest secrets were kept. It was a person, your person-Pope. 

"I love you." Was all you could manage as he understood the weight of these words, even more meaningful than the first time you'd spoken them. And because of that, he brought your face between his hands. 

"Nobody will ever hurt you again. Nobody. I love you so much-" Rears filled his own eyes to know you held such pain. But from this moment forward, he would share everything with you. Every pain. Every success. And he would do so happily in you knowing he was your haven and he was, indeed, your home. Just as you were his. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

[dingoat]

XXXXXX <_<

FINALLY I am done with these, have SIX REPRESSED MEMORIES for SIX CROSSES.

[Fair warning to all, there is lots of trauma and death in these memories so read ahead at your own discretion >.> The first couple are probably the worst, werewolf au has a lot of angsty times for everyone involved. Feel free to ping me if you'd rather know what you're getting into before reading!]

x - [Before he was Five] 

The night before, they’d stayed up late, conspiring in the fort in whispers that were too loud, overstimulated and giddy for the day to come. Excited in the way that only children ever could be, knowing each other’s hearts the way that twins often would. That morning, they’d been sitting beside one another, halfway through the excruciating torment of being primped and polished to meet their parents’ expectations, her hair full of ribbons (she actually didn’t mind the ribbons), his cheeks dusted unnecessarily into a permanent rosy blush (he wished he didn’t have to), but going through the process together always made it a little easier. Two hours ago, they’d bowed and curtsied their way through an endless parade of polite greetings and welcomes and displays of thanks; one hour ago, they’d snuck away with their arms full of food to share and feast on away from prying eyes, using their fingers and wiping dusted sugar off on their knees without their mother’s judgement or father’s disdain to spoil their simple joy.

Half an hour ago they’d been explorers, climbing trees and pressing their way through hedges, because even if the event was supposed to be for them there was no hiding the fact that it was really for the adults, to smile with too many teeth and compliment one another in ways that left each other feeling terrible. They weren’t missed, and they made the day theirs anyway.

Ten minutes ago, they’d found a way into their neighbours’ menagerie, and were enthralled by the beasts they’d never been allowed to see up close before.

Five minutes ago, she’d strayed too close.

Five.

Four minutes ago, the sounds must have been his, because his sister could no longer make them.

It would take another ten minutes for anyone to find him, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was ten or ten thousand. No matter how forcefully he pushed those wretched minutes from his mind, he would never be the same.

x - [Wolf, trained by the Spheres]

“Don’t settle! DON’T.”

Her blunt claws scrabbled against the duracrete floor as she tried to put some distance between herself and the source of pain, but there was no escaping it, there was never escaping it, even though it was hard, it was so hard hard hard hard to stop her body from shifting completely, it was so hard hard hard hard to force herself back in the other direction. The pain only made it worse, that vile pulse that knocked the breath out of her and left her head throbbing. It made it so hard to concentrate so hard to know what to do, so hard to listen and press herself out of synchrony with the song of the moon but she had to, she had to or he’d make it happen again–

“What did I SAY?”

She yelped as her body felt as though it was pummelled from the inside and she stumbled and smacked her chin against the ground, biting her tongue as stars blossomed in her field of view. She wanted to she wanted to he was mad, she could smell it he was mad and she didn’t want to make him mad, it was just so hard so hard so hard to learn what she was supposed to but she’d never be a good girl if she couldn’t do what she was supposed to.

On her feet again, she scrambled to the far wall and flattened against it, ears pinned right back, eyes screwed shut, and she tried, she tried, she tried.

x - [Wolf under the Spheres]

She’d perfected it, so much so that the faint tickle of discord in her veins was something of a comfort, so much so that she no longer had to think about it. Her body naturally fell into an unfinished state, it recoiled against the idea of being in harmony with the moon.

It didn’t matter what exactly was left unfinished, certainly her Man didn’t mind if her ears were a little too long or her tail a little too short, he didn’t care about the exact width of her muzzle so long as her teeth were still good and long and sharp. But she enjoyed having a little more grasp to her paws, strong dew claws that she could flex and grip, digits that she could curl into the earth as she ran, paws shaped all the better to hold her prey. And so that was the state her body came to know as correct, that was the point to which she shifted when the moon rose and the crisp night welcomed her. To settle in full would be the greater effort now, to be a pure wolf was unthinkable, it made her flinch to even consider it. She huffed, her breath forming a cloud in the cool air, and padded out into the street.

When a fresh new pain bloomed in her mind, it was the type she knew how to silence, the type her long sessions with her Man had taught her how to focus on and deal with.

Eyes ablaze, she ran, and the alien in soft beige robes carrying a glittering blue light didn’t have time to comprehend what was coming her way.

The alien pushed defensively toward her, and she flashed her teeth with a wolf’s silent laughter as she rebuked, turning the push back upon its caster. There was just a moment of shock in the alien’s eyes as she started to piece together what she was dealing with, but that realisation wasn’t enough to prevent everything ending in blood.

x - [Wolf under Nines]

She liked the way she was just allowed to run now, sometimes. It wasn’t always killing, it wasn’t always the pain and the noise and the hunt hunt hunt until the pain was gone.

Sometimes, like tonight, she was just allowed to bask in the glow of the moon and feel the wind ruffle her fur, to watch the little clouds form in front of her face as she panted, warm with joyous exertion.

Never before, though, had she picked up that scent on the breeze, in the grass, and her heart leapt inexplicably when she detected it, when she recognised it.

It’s like me, like me. Smells like me.

She tilted her muzzle upward, little huffs and snuffs as she worked out the direction, stepping in slow circles. It wasn’t wolf that she smelled, not exactly, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. A little more musky, but that spice was undeniable, that unique little peculiarity that she knew belonged to herself, and to some of her earliest days of training.

The smell meant friend.

It didn’t occur to her that now that she had escaped from that life, that what was once a friend may well now be an enemy. Her thoughts and cares were all far too immediate to consider anything like that.

The smell meant friend, the smell was someone never ever ever to bare her teeth at.

Where was he? Who was he?

The grass rippled, and she spun, and dropped into a play-bow, splaying her front legs across the grass.

Where are you, where are you? Will you run? Will you play?

x - [Wolf under Five]

Death, again.

It had come back to this. It would always come back to this.

The body she dragged, clamped in her jaws, had been somebody. Dimly, she was aware that this was a whole life she had ended, but the concern over whether or not the death was warranted was no longer hers.

She’d given up her words, and with them, her soul.

A new face to whisper those words, to grin his loth-cat grin as she became still and calm and perfectly obedient. Bound to those words, and so, to his command.

She’d given up her words freely, because she’d proven that she couldn’t be trusted, could never be trusted, not even with those she held most dear. Not even with those who filled her heart, who’d made her believe, for a small while at least, that freedom was worth pursuing.

She was a monster, fit only to be bound and caged.

The body was heavy in her jaws, but it did not weigh on her nearly so much as the grief she carried on her shoulders. There was no joy to be found, when he told her how well she’d done. She could smell his savage delight, his excitement, but she shared none of it. She could see the triumph in his eyes, a man risen victorious over his own personal lifelong challenge, even if she could not know the cause for his all consuming desire for control. His desperate desire to never know the pain of his youth again.

Oh, how she hated him.

She laid the kill at his feet, and turned her back on him to clean her muzzle and her paws. She hoped he would speak the words again soon, and spare her the pain of a mind clear enough to know regret.

x - [Ahuska under Tython’s masters]

Day by day, she came to know the temple grounds and their surrounds better, in the time she was given to herself. To relax, to study, to explore… sometimes she wished for more direction, sometimes she wished for more teaching, because surely the faster she learned, the sooner she could actually make some useful headway toward…

She paused, twisting to look over her shoulder and watch the way he nosed through the long grass, his elegant little body always so silent as he slipped his way across the landscape.

Sometimes it was hard to imagine he’d ever been anything else.

She had to help him.

She gritted her teeth and moved on, wanting to find somewhere peaceful and private, somewhere away from the temple that seemed to grow noisier by the day, though now she knew it was because her ability to sense life through the Force was developing at a faster rate than her ability to do anything useful about focusing or walling herself off.

It seemed like the more acutely aware of the Force and its endless possibilities she became, the more overwhelming it all was. She’d been warned endlessly that her own impatience, her desperate need to see progress, was actually hampering her ability to achieve any of what she chased, but setting those fierce desires aside was a task unto itself.

Her feet picked out a trail, a thinning of the grasses that grew tall between the conifers, and-

Creatures made this trail, in the earliest hours of the morning. I’d been good, up until this point, letting the Masters know that I wanted to get up in the dark to see them pass through the courtyard. A family of slinky little beasts with fur that looked almost silvery in the moonlight, with webbed feet and huge bushes of whiskers at the ends of their blunt snouts. The little ones bit and snorted at each other as they followed their parents, but when one of them noticed me watching, where I sat at the edge of the fountain, it squeaked and darted to the adults, moving along with its whole body pressed along one of the grown beast’s flanks.

When they started to vanish from view, I decided to be a little less good, because I wanted to watch them just a little longer. I wanted to see where they travelled from, maybe even where they denned. I wanted to reach out gently through the Force, and see if there was anything they wanted to offer back. My bare feet followed their trail, where their nightly passage thinned the grass, weaving through the woods and down a muddy little slide into a gently flowing river.

She gasped, and froze, not knowing where the memory came from or why such a thing would feel so real. She’d never been to Tython before. Perhaps, if the memory had come from the wolf, she’d have a whole slew of questions that at least made sense to ask. As it was, she turned to make her own trail through the grasses, not wanting to see the river that she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, would be there waiting if she carried on.

Ridiculous. I’ve never been to Tython before. Certainly not to watch wildlife when I was a little girl. I’m from Ruweln.

She would find somewhere else. Somewhere that wouldn’t distract her with foolish fantasies. And she would try to clear her mind and listen to the Force.