#if you knew how often me and my sister quoted this

[harrysfolklore]

omg i have a question for the bitchy carlos fic -

so nicole piastri came on red flags podcast recently and spoke about oscar and his childhood, what if there’s an au segment of her talking about older piastri & what would his reaction be

okay this turned out being way longer than intended bc i added the scene of carlos and nicole meeting bc why not, i hope i'm not annoying you with too much little bitch content, i'll promise i'll post for other drivers now READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

Host: "So, Nicole, we've heard a lot about Oscar's journey to F1, but what can you tell us about his relationship with his sister, YN? She has quite the personality online, doesn't she? Can you tell us about their relationship growing up?

Nicole:"Oh, those two. They've always had such a special bond. YN is a few years older than Oscar and yes, she's known as the Piastri who fights people online, but she's always been fiercely protective of him. From the moment YN first held Oscar as a baby, she appointed herself his protector. It was adorable and sometimes a bit much, but always came from a place of love.

Host: Can you give us an example?

Nicole: "When Oscar was about six and YN was maybe nine. Oscar had just started school and was having trouble making friends. He was quite shy back then, if you can believe it. One day, YN overheard some kids teasing Oscar in the playground."

Host: "Oh no, what happened?"

Nicole: "Well, YN marched right up to those boys and she told them off in no uncertain terms. She said, and I quote, 'My brother is going to be a famous race car driver one day, and you'll all be asking for his autograph. So you'd better be nice to him now!' The boys were so shocked they just stood there with their mouths open."

Host:"That's amazing! Did it help Oscar?"

Nicole: "It did, actually. Oscar was so impressed by his big sister standing up for him that it gave him a confidence boost. And you know what? Some of those boys ended up becoming his good friends. They still joke about YN's 'prophecy' coming true now that Oscar's in F1."

Host: "That's such a heartwarming story! It's clear YN has always been protective of Oscar. Now, speaking of relationships, we've heard that YN is dating Carlos Sainz. Can you tell us a bit about how that came to be?"

Nicole: "Oh, that's an interesting story! YN actually told us she was dating Carlos a while back, but we weren't surprised at all. We knew she liked him since that time in Singapore last year when our family visited. YN was trying so hard to act mad about Carlos' win, but it was obvious she was impressed."

Host: "So you had suspicions before they even got together?"

Nicole: "Absolutely! Even before that Singapore trip, YN used to go on these multiple rants about, in her words, 'this arrogant Spaniard' who kept pushing Oscar off track. She called him something I won't repeat but I'm pretty sure everyone knows it, it absolutely irritated her. But you know what? We all knew that deep down, she had a crush on him."

Host: "That's quite the turnaround! Have you met Carlos — as YN’s partner this time — yet?"

Nicole: "I haven’t, actually. I’m hoping to do that in Baku after the summer break. But I can see Carlos brings out a softer side of YN that we don't often see in public. Don't get me wrong, she's still fiercely stubborn and outspoken, but with Carlos, there's this gentleness that comes out. He seems to really understand and appreciate her passion, and he's not intimidated by her strong personality at all. In fact, he seems to admire it."

Host: "It sounds like they complement each other well. How has Oscar taken to their relationship?"

Nicole: "Oscar's been very supportive. I think he appreciates seeing his sister happy, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Carlos is someone he respects on the track. It's actually quite funny to see YN now, cheering for both Oscar and Carlos during races. She's always torn between wanting Oscar to win and not wanting Carlos to lose."

Host: "That's nice, Carlos sounds like quite the gentleman. Has YN picked up any Spanish since they started dating?"

Nicole: "Oh, that's actually a funny story. We love to tease YN about this. You see, she failed Spanish in high school - couldn't conjugate a verb to save her life. And now here she is, dating a Spaniard! Carlos has been trying to teach her, but let's just say it's a work in progress. She can now order a beer and ask where the bathroom is, so I suppose that's progress!"

Host: "That's hilarious! I'm sure she'll be fluent in no time."

Nicole: "Bless her, she's really trying. She's determined to have a full conversation with Carlos' parents in Spanish by the end of the year. We'll see how that goes!"

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 498,646 others

ynpiastri our queen is here !! and no one is ready

tagged: nicolepiastri

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username1 NICOLE PIASTRI IS THE MOMENT

username2 SLAY THE HOUSE BOOTS DOWN

mclaren Icon 🧡

lilyzneimer the besttttt 💓

username3 IS SHE MEETING CARLOS ??

username4 oh i can’t wait to see our queen giving carlos a run for his money again

landonorris Coolest ever

↳ ynpiastri her favorite will always be yuki don’t even try it

↳ username1 HEEEELP

yukitsunoda5511 Nicole is brat

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM 😭

oscarpiastri I’m ready, your boyfriend however…

↳ username3 LOOOOORDDD

↳ username1 POOR CARLOS

↳ ynpiastri leave him alone 😤😤

Baku had a special energy during race weekends. The tight streets and high-pressure atmosphere gave you a mixture of excitement and nerves, but today, the butterflies in your stomach had nothing to do with the Grand Prix. Instead, it was about the lunch you were about to have, where Carlos would meet your mom—officially, as your boyfriend this time.

You walked through the paddock with Carlos by your side, his hand wrapped around yours. Oscar was a few steps ahead, casually walking toward the hospitality area where no other than Nicole Piastri waited. She had met Carlos briefly before, like many of the other drivers, but this was different. He wasn’t just a name on the grid anymore—he was the man you were dating, and Carlos seemed to be nervous about the meeting.

"You think she likes me?" Carlos adjusted his hat for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Carlos, she’s going to love you," you couldn’t help but smile at his nerves, "She already does. But, you know... as a mum, she's entitled to give you a little hard time."

"That’s what I’m worried about," Carlos chuckled, but his smile was still tight, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"

"You will," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just be yourself."

Oscar slowed down, overhearing your conversation and grinning like he already knew how this would play out. "Mum’s gonna grill you, mate," he teased, throwing a glance back at Carlos. "She’s been waiting for this."

"Not helping, Oscar," you muttered, giving your brother a playful shove. He just smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

When you finally reached the hospitality tent, your mom was already seated at a table, smiling warmly as she saw you all approach. She stood up to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar hug before turning to Carlos with that same welcoming smile—though you knew there was a glint of mischief behind it.

“Carlos, it’s so good to see you again,” she greeted, shaking his hand.

"It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Piastri," Carlos said, his polite smile fixed on his face. His Spanish charm was dialed up a notch, but you could still feel the slight tension in his grip as he held your hand.

“Please, call me Nicole,” she said, taking her seat again. “I’m not that formal, especially not with my daughter’s boyfriend.”

As you all settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice the amused glances Oscar and your mom were exchanging. You knew that look—they were up to something.

"So," Nicole began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "how long have you two been together again?"

You glanced at Carlos, who seemed to relax a bit as he answered, "About two months officially, right, cariño?"

You nodded, but before you could add anything, your mom raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"

"Mum!" you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.

Oscar, who had taken a seat across from you, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the dynamic unfold.

"That’s what I thought," she teased, making Oscar let out a loud laugh.

You felt your face grow even hotter as your mom's implications hung in the air. Carlos, to his credit, managed to maintain his composure, though you noticed a slight redness creeping up his neck.

"Well," Carlos cleared his throat, his accent a bit thicker than usual, "I think it's safe to say we've known each other for quite some time now."

"Oh, I remember. You two weren't exactly friendly at first, were you?"

"That's putting it mildly, Mum," Oscar snorted, "Remember the time she came home absolutely fuming after a race? She was ranting about 'that little bi—'"

"Oscar!" you cut him off, "We don't need to relive that."

Carlos squeezed your hand under the table, clearly amused. "No, please, I'd love to hear about this."

"Oh mate, you should've heard her," Oscar spoke again, "'Carlos this, Carlos that.' I swear, she talked about you more when she hated you than she does now."

"I did not!" you protested, but your brother's knowing smirk told you he wasn't buying it.

"It's true," your mum added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "I remember thinking, 'This girl protests too much.' I had a feeling even then that all that anger was hiding something else."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

Carlos wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "It's okay, hermosa. I love to hear these stories."

You looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. It was hard to believe that those same eyes had once glared at you across the paddock.

Nicole smiled, watching the two of you with that familiar mom look—part teasing, part proud. "Well, now look at you. I guess all that bickering was just a cover-up for how much you liked each other."

"You’ve gone soft," Oscar rolled his eyes dramatically. "I kinda miss the days when you’d call each other names."

"Don’t worry," you muttered, giving Carlos a playful glare. "He’s still a little bitch sometimes."

Carlos laughed, his arm tightening around you as he kissed the top of your head. "And you’re still my favorite enemy turned girlfriend."

Your mom let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I knew it all along."

[marvelsmylife]

Priorities

Pairing: Cassian x reader

Plot: Cassian used to say it was you and him against the world. Now, you’d be lucky if he even looks your direction.

“You know I would choose you.” “That’s the thing. I don’t.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Because you haven’t chosen me. Not in a very, very long time.”

-King of Greed

A/n I’m not going to lie, this one is ANGSTY ! ! ! !

Masterlist

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Ana Huang Quotes Drabbles Masterlist

The day Cassian, the lord of bloodshed met you, his mate, he promised to always be by your side. He would protect you and would frequently say that it was you and him against the world. He promised nothing, and no one would get in between your love, and he kept that promise until Hybern happened.

Ever since then, Rhysand has been hard on everyone to get him information on what the king of Hybern was doing. He was especially hard on Cassian and Azriel, but Azriel sometimes had the decency to say no. Especially if he knew what Rhysand was asking for was unnecessary.

Cassian, however, followed Rhysand’s command without question and often blew you off to please the high lord. You thought this would be a faze, and he would revert to his old self, but you were sorely mistaken.

You realized Cassian wasn’t going to change the night of your anniversary. With the help of Feyre, Nesta, and Elain, you set up a dinner with his favorite foods in a beautifully decorated room. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain volunteered to help bring out your dinner to just so they could see Cassian’s reaction. Cassian usually gushed about how you would go all out for your anniversary, but tonight, Cassian completely ignored your presence.

Feyre, Elain, and Nesta sent you sympathetic looks as they watched Cassian walk past you and walked straight toward your shared room. The sisters were going to say something to make you feel better when you said, “I can’t do this anymore,” before following Cassian into your shared room.

Once inside, you spotted Cassian getting undressed and getting ready to shower. A smirk appeared on Cassian's face when he saw you and teased, “You just can’t stay away, can you? I think we can squeeze a quicky in the shower before I have to report to Rhys.”

“I’m moving out,” you told Cassian bluntly.

Cassian’s body went still at your words because he had no idea if you were joking, “Can I ask why?”

“I’m surprised you suddenly care for an explanation,” you replied while packing your things, “But if you must know, I’m tired of being last on your priority list. For the past six months, you’ve chosen to follow Rhysand’s command and disregard the plans we have to please our high lord. I deserve a male who will choose me first, and clearly, you’re not that male, at least not anymore.”

A frown appeared on Cassian’s face as he felt nothing but sadness through the bond, “Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. You know I would choose you.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t.” A tear slipped down your cheek. “Because you haven’t chosen me. Not in a very, very long time.”

Cassian wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness when Rhysand walked into your room. “Ah, Cassian, there you are. I know you just got home, but I need you to do recon at the autumn court. I have a feeling- wait, is everything ok here?” Rhysand asked once he took in both you and Cassian’s appearance.

“Peachy,” you replied sarcastically before looking at Cassian, “Cassian is all yours, as always.”

Rhysand gave you a puzzled look as you walked out of the room with suitcases in your hands. “What just happened?” Rhysand asked.

“I ruined my relationship with my mate, and I didn’t even realize it,” Cassian whispered as he tried not to cry in front of his brother. 

[agentrouka-blog]

"There was hunger in his(Tyrion) green eye, it seemed to her, and fury in the black. Sansa did not know which scared her more."- Sansa(ASOS).

"He wanted something from her, but Sansa did not know what it was. He looks like a starving child, but I have no food to give him."- Sansa(ASOS).

Sansa compared Tyrion lust for her with him hungry for food.

"The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard." - Jon(ADWD)

"He have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it."- Jon(ASOS).

In first quote Jon was thinking about food supply from Vale and in later he was thinking about he wanted to become lord of WF and have a family but feels guilty.

Do you think it's about Jonsa?

Great obervation, please-dot! <3

There's another language parallel involving Tyrion and Sansa and Winterfell that mirrors Jon's thoughts in Winterfell.

I want her, he realized. I want Winterfell, yes, but I want her as well, child or woman or whatever she is. I want to comfort her. I want to hear her laugh. I want her to come to me willingly, to bring me her joys and her sorrows and her lust. His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. Yes, and I want to be tall as Jaime and as strong as Ser Gregor the Mountain too, for all the bloody good it does. (ASOS, Tyrion IV)

It compares well with the quote you used above.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought. (ASOS, Jon XII)

When Tyrion and Sansa do eat together, the food is distasteful, or their appetites incompatible.

Another thematic link would be Sansa refusing the offer of a pomegranate from Littlefinger, where the Hades-Persephone symbolism underlines her rejection of him. The closest he gets to her appetite is the giant lemon cake model of the Eyrie served up at the feast for the upcoming tourney, and yet her thoughts revolve around Harry and she is never seen eating of it.

Jon's relationship with food also turns impersonal. What meals he has aren't joyful, they even congeal uneaten. Long forgotten are the days of sweet summerwine and honeyed chicken, or the celebratory meals taken with his new black brothers. Everything revolves around food but Jon becomes divorced from the joy of eating.

Catelyn voices that connection very well.

I am become a sour woman, Catelyn thought. I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once. (ACOK, Catelyn VII)

The connection to the food stores of the Eyrie becomes doubly interesting in that context. GRRM specifically phrased it as feeding Jon himself.

I strongly suspect that when Jon and Sansa meet again, food will take on as symbolic a role as gifts of clothing or mutual offers of protection. There's a very unnecessary, almost random paragraph during Joffrey's wedding that has never left my mind:

And there was one woman, sitting almost at the foot of the third table on the left . . . the wife of one of the Fossoways, he thought, and heavy with his child. Her delicate beauty was in no way diminished by her belly, nor was her pleasure in the food and frolics. Tyrion watched as her husband fed her morsels off his plate. They drank from the same cup, and would kiss often and unpredictably. Whenever they did, his hand would gently rest upon her stomach, a tender and protective gesture. (ASOS, Tyrion VIII)

It's one of the sweetest interactions of any couple depicted in the series, and it revolves around the simple worldly pleasures of food and drink, affection and new life. They eat together, joyfully. The contrast to Tyrion's empty hunger, and to the stilted tension surrounding food that has crept into so many abusive relationships is evident.

So, yes, I think that repeated imagery is very intentional and will return when it is time to feast, metaphorically.

[krossan]

So here is the THING...

People often wonder why Dan is my favorite character and the “built-in-character” I often create for him. Most of these questions came after one of my favorite mini-story-panel of Phantom grieving his sister’s grave. I’m refering to this one:

Comments like “why Phantom SHOULD be grieving his sister if he was the one who killed them in the first place?” Well, for this essay, I hope I can change your perception and mind of what truly happen but SPOILER: HE WASN’T THE ONE WHO KILLED THEM. What a shocker. Why I came up with that conclusion, you ask? Let’s dive in with some information given to us in the show and how MADDENING stories that involve time-traveling are.

For starters, I HATE TIME-TRAVEL. I feel like tiime travel is like a simple excuse to misdirect the reader into thinking “Oh, that happened so I shouldn’t think much from that.” TUE is backed up from that which is infuriating to me and how the episode developed itself doesn’t make too much sense. I’m going to leave a quote mention on the DP wikia of exaclty what im talking about:

THIS right here is one of the MOST MEGA FLAW of the show itself. Yes. We know the events that led to Dark Danny was Danny cheating on the C.A.T. and then the NB explosion happen. But DAN DIDN’T CAUSE THE EXPLOSION! Dan didn’t trap his family just to blew up. Dan was out of the equation!

Erase from your minds the fact that Dan was involved on Danny’s timeline for a second and rewind things a bit. It is impossible for Dan to caused that because DAN DID NOT EXIST YET. The events were just about to unfold. For us to follow Dan’s timeline, Danny had NEVER talked to VLAD abt it. He NEVER had any sort of GUIDANCE to prove that he cheating on the C.A.T. was the thing that caused all of it. As the quoted statement of the DP wikia says: maybe what transpire in the Nasty Burger was a COMPLETELY different event that let to one of the boilers to blow. What if- this particular event- maybe the observants send someone else to put a stop to Danny (this also bringing the fact why Clockwork-in a way-is mad at them and you can feel this hatred towards them. And of course as stated by himself, the observants can only see one outcome while Clockwork can see variables.) Now, imagine the loss Danny may have felt after that unprecedented explosion. He had nowhere to go... and so the rest of Dan’s story begins. The only reason why Dan traveled back in time was because he knew this “Danny” from this alternate timeline had guidance from Clockwork. He new that if he cheated, a catastrophy would occur and he would do ANYTHING to prevent it... that was the GUIDANCE Dan NEVER HAD. HE HAD TO WITNESS HIS LOVED ONES DIE.

DAN NEVER HAD THAT “SECOND CHANCE” CLOCKWORK GAVE TO DANNY. OF COURSE DAN WILL BE BLOODY MAD ABT IT. -“I LOST MY FAMILY SO YOU MUST SUFFER THE SAME WAY”

But the overall ending of the episode feels stupid. Like after Danny speaking to Vlad and Clockwork and HE HIMSELF witnessing what was the cause for his family to die... Even if Dan succeded (which may I remind you Dan DID win but Clockwork had to interviene/cheat)

WHY WOULD DANNY GO BACK TO VLAD, GET RID OF HIS HUMANITY... AND BOOM! Have yourself another Dan.

The reasonable explanation to this is, again the OUTCOME.

What if on this case, if everyhing happened the way it was Danny now wanted his ghost to be removed because of the potential risks Phantom had.

He may have became Dark Danny but maybe a different one. One different from the one we all know.

This is my ranting of putting myself on Dan’s shoes for a moment. I hate time traveling episodes just so that they can just “go with it and make a mess out of the story but hey... it’s a cartoon, kids are not going to question anything”. You probably say that I’m overthinking this whole situation but I was once a writer and it is too frustating to me this type of subjects are just not fully solved.

Now with all this, Can you look at the panels and its meaning the same way now? Can you look at Dan the same way?

[sexy-sapphic-sorcerer]

1: Magic is a Metaphor < 2: Morgana is a Lesbian > 3: Merlin is Gay > 4: Arthur is Bi

Building off of the whole metaphor idea, Morgana's character arc is basically that she starts to question her identity because she's having all of these dreams and thoughts that she doesn't understand. Then Gaius, who is straight up a conversion therapist, literally gaslights her and is like, 'no no, you're just going crazy, you're overreacting, here, why don't you take all of these drugs to suppress those thoughts?'

Meanwhile, Uther is saying all of this stuff about how sorcerers are all evil and should be killed, and Morgana will try to argue with him and he will just be like, 'well, why do you care so much?' And she's all, 'oh, no reason. I'm just an ally. I'm just really passionate about social justice.' Like, girl, we've all been there.

And then once Morgana does come to terms with her identity and she realises how fucked up the way that she was treated is, she goes batshit and starts a revolution and assassinates her dad. And good for her! I honestly think that all repressed lesbians deserve a little bit of murder, it's only fair, especially if they look so hot doing it.

Also, Morgana doesn't have any male love interests. I mean, she will sometimes flirt with men to manipulate them into doing what she wants, but it's very clear that that is what she is doing, she never actually cares about them or follows through.

Besides, Katie McGrath has never played a heterosexual in her life. She's basically straight up said that she played Morgana as a lesbian. You know where she said that? Here:

Hear me out.

Are they technically half-sisters? Yes. But omg the sexual tension between these two is undeniable. You really do think that they're just going to kiss at any given moment. This has been straight up confirmed. This is a quote from the same conversation as earlier between the main producer and Katie McGrath, where they fully admit that there are definitely lesbian undertones there, and not only did both actresses play it that way, but it was written that way. So I rest my case.

Gwen knew about Morgana's prophetic visions from the start and she was never scared of it or tried to deny that it was magic. Instead, she was always by Morgana's bedside (or in her bed) so she could hold her face and stroke her hair and tell her she would be okay. Gayasses.

Although, as Iori Miyazawa can attest, yuri is often best found in the absence of it. Because once Morgana accepts her identity and her magic becomes an unavoidable part of of her life rather than thoughts she could repress, she begins to push Gwen away, often in the form of telling her not to undress her anymore.

Then this tension between them is emphasised when Morgana starts having nightmares of Gwen marrying Arthur and is really upset by it for some reason. I know that she justifies it by saying that she doesn't want Gwen to take her place as queen, but if you think about that for more than 5 seconds, it makes absolutely no sense. Arthur is still going to be king regardless of who he marries, so unless Morgana is planning to follow the legend a bit too closely and marry her brother, then Gwen is absolutely not taking her place.

And yet Morgana spends the entire rest of the show obsessing over Gwen, including: planting false evidence to break up Gwen and Arthur, using necroLancey as a puppet to seduce her, kidnapping Gwen only to tenderly caress her face and force her to have dinner with her, and then of course enchanting Gwen to kill Arthur so that Morgana can be queen, and Gwen will seemingly also still be queen. And they will be two queens, together, platonically. Hmmm

[otmaaromanovas]

Anastasia's personality

Lesser known quotes about Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov and her personality, from those who knew her and from Anastasia herself!

Happy reading :)

"Once they had seen this demonstration [of security dogs sniffing out objects], the Grand Duchesses often amused themselves by hiding objects on the island, and asking us to have them retrieved by the dogs. That was, above all, the favourite game of the youngest of the Grand Duchesses, Anastasia Nicholaievna. So the guide asked permission to take the Grand Duchess by the hand and let the dogs sniff it, who then disappeared into the island and brought back the hidden object. Of course, the Grand Duchess was hugely delighted." - Alexander Spiridovitch, Last Years at Tsarskoe Selo, Volume 1

Anastasia to tutor Pyotr Vasilievich Petrov: "Wikied P.V.P. I am very, very upsit with you. Why didn’t you write a litter to Maria and me? I’m telling you, you are very, very bad, extremely bad even. Maria and I have written you so meny letters and you haven’t replied. I am going to make mystakes on purpose. I alredy see where I made mystakes. Anastasia. 1909. 9 November." - Helen Azar, George Hawkins, Anastasia Romanov: The Tsar's Youngest Daughter Speaks Through Her Writings

"Sometimes, the Grand Duchesses would enter the thatched houses and strike up conversations with the peasant women. The male population worked far away, at fishing, Anastasia Nicholaievna made friends with an old peasant woman, whom she came to see in her thatched cottage several times, and with whom she had long conversations. The peasant was knitting a stocking, and showed the Grand Duchess how it was done. On her birthday, Anastasia Nicholaievna visited the old lady, and asked her how old she thought she was. When the old lady could not guess, the Grand Duchess announced proudly that she was eight years old!" - Alexander Spiridovitch, Last Years at Tsarskoe Selo, Volume 1

"We used to make long outings around the islands. One day, Anastasia Nicholaievna begged the Emperor to take her on one of these outings. The Emperor consented. It was a very long outing. We covered some fifteen to seventeen versts. Everybody, except the Emperor, was very tired, with Anastasia Nicholaievna at the point of tears. The people who accompanied the Emperor took turns carrying her pick-a-back [piggy back]. That outing was remembered for a long time." - Alexander Spiridovitch, Last Years at Tsarskoe Selo, Volume 1

"Anastasia Nicholaevna was a lively witty child, who developed rapidly in the midst of her sisters. Very mischievous, always gay she still amused herself with toys such as the little, stoppered bottles and pots which a doctor who visited the Imperial Family used to bring her. She and her brother got no end of fun from these things." - Alexander Spiridovitch, Last Years at Tsarskoe Selo, Volume 1

"Little Anastasie was delighted with the stir and bustle of city life and deeply interested in all she saw. The children developed a love for those little toy balloons which are sold in the streets. When they were very good I used to send out and get them one each. But Anastasie used sometimes to want me to stop the carriage and buy them from the men, and this, of course, could not be allowed. So I always said simply that I could not, without advancing any reason. She evidently thought force would have to be used to induce him to part with them, for one day she saw some little children walking on the Palace Quay, each one with a balloon. She drew my attention to them. "Look, look!" cried she; "little children with balloons; get out, take them from them and give them to me." I explained why that would not do, so she said, " Well, get out, and ask them nicely and politely, and perhaps they will give them to me."" - Margaretta Eagar, Six Years at the Russian Court

"Someone in speaking to me of the four little girls lately said to me, "...little Anastasie has personal charm beyond any child I ever saw."" - Margaretta Eagar, Six Years at the Russian Court

"I had got from England a preparation for the children's hair, and was rubbing it into little Anastasie's head one evening. She objected, and I said, " It will make your hair grow nicely, darling," so she submitted. Next evening I went to get the kappuka [solution] from the cupboard, and mademoiselle ran off into the next room. She returned dragging by its leg an awful dolly, a regular fetish, minus a wig, one eye, and an arm. She gravely took a little piece of sponge and began to rub the kappuka into the creature's head. I remonstrated, telling her I had to send to England for the stuff and did not want it wasted. She looked at me most reproachfully, and said, "My poor Vera! she has got no curls; this will make her hair grow." Of course, she got her way." - Margaretta Eagar, Six Years at the Russian Court

"Anastasia Nikolaevna was especially attracted to stores, where they sold doll shoes of various sizes…" - Sophia Ivanovna Tyutcheva, A Few Years Before the Catastrophe

Letter from Alexei to their father, Nicholas: "[22 Sept 1914] …Anastasia was throttling [tutor] M. Gilliard." This has also been translated as "…Anastasia was trying to strangle M. Gilliard" - George Hawkins, Alexei: Russia's Last Tsesarevich - Letters, diaries and writings

Letter from Alexandra to Nicholas: "Jan 6 1916 …Anastasia has bronchitis, head is heavy & hurts her swallowing, coughed in the night,, she writes about [Dr.] Ostrog.[orsky]. “Although he said that I look a little better than yesterday, but I am pale & my appearance is foolish in my view” just like the “Shvibzik” [her nickname] to say such things…" – Joseph T. Fuhrmann, Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna. The complete Wartime Correspondence April 1914 – March 1917

Letter from Alexandra to either her brother or sister-in-law: "7 May 1913… Anastasia is growing gradually and is as funny as always." - Petra H. Kleinpenning, The Correspondence Of The Empress Alexandra Of Russia With Ernst Ludwig And Eleonore, Grand Duke And Duchess Of Hesse

The following are from Helen Azar, George Hawkins, Anastasia Romanov: The Tsar's Youngest Daughter Speaks Through Her Writings:

Tutor Pyotr Vasilievich Petrov to Anastasia: "12 October 1909. Hello dear, good, diligent, obedient (albeit not always), kind and affectionate (also not always?) Anastasia Nikolaevna!" - Helen Azar, George Hawkins, Anastasia Romanov: The Tsar's Youngest Daughter Speaks Through Her Writings

Anatoly Mordvinov to the Grand Duchesses: "September 19, 1915 My beloved torturers! I can’t express how pleased I was with your joint, dear, sweet letter… What terrible news, reported by my chief tormentor Anastasia Nikolaevna…"

Anastasia to Nicholas: "October 3rd [1915] …There was a psalm-reader who read so incredibly funny that it was simply impossible not to laugh"

Note from Anastasia to Alexei "…Now you, little piggy, know all the rooms…"

Letter from Anastasia to Alexei: "1 November 1915. ...My Dear and Darling Little Alexei! I haven’t forgotten my responsibility [to walk dog Joy], and every day either I or Madeleine or Tutles goes for a walk and it goes very well."

Last diary of Alexandra: "12/15 April. Marie comes with us [to Ekaterinburg], Olga will look after Baby, Tatiana the household & Anastasia will cheer all up." - Last diary of Alexandra Feodorovna

"Anastasia was not allowed to go to dinner, had to go to bed early, which was why she had dinner alone with the nanny in her giant lonely “upstairs”… So sad, these poor children live in a golden cage." - the memoirs of V. I. Chebotareva

Diary entry of the palace priest: "April 11, 1917 - …The former Heir was taken past my window in a wheelchair. Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna saw me in the window and loudly said to her mother, “Over there, the batiushka [father] is looking at us”" - Belyaev, Potapov, The Romanovs Under House Arrest: From the 1917 Diary of a Palace Priest

Letter from Maria to Nicholas: "April 1915 …The little Shvybzik [Anastasia's dog] just made a “governor” [accident] on Mama’s carpet, and Anastasia is not training him…" - Helen Azar, George Hawkins, Maria Romanov: Third Daughter of the Last Tsar, Diaries and Letters, 1908–1918

"...the most energetic and speedy - Anastasia Nikolaevna - had a rather silent, sedate and serious Navigator A.V. Saltanov [to look after her]. The latter ended up with most trouble and turmoil. Dear 'Nastasya', as the Gosudar [tsar] called her, was a trouble making tomboy. With her hair always messed up, always dishevelled, from morning till night she ran around the yacht, climbed up ladders, peeked where she should not have, until, with a lot of screaming she was finally led away and put to bed. Her parents said she was the "clown"." - Memoirs of Nikolai Vasilievich Sablin

"It was after Anastasia had arrived as a pupil that Gibbes met his first real problem. Still slightly built (she would soon grow rapidly), eager in her movements, her eyes sparkling with intelligence, she was self-possessed and in entire command of her features; he had met nothing like it any other child. Remembering a course in child psychology he had taken during one of his exploring periods at Cambridge, he tried as many innovations from it as he could; they did not shelter him from storms, usually sudden. Once, after a disturbed lesson, he refused to give her five marks, the maximum (and customary) number. For a moment the wondered what might happen; then, purposefully, Anastasia left the room. Within minutes she returned, carrying one of the elaborate bouquets that seemed always to be in waiting. 'Mr Gibbes,' she said winningly, 'are you going to change the marks?' He hesitated before he shook his head. Describing it long afterwards in a letter (1928) to the Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich, the Tsar's brother-in-law in Paris, Gibbes wrote: Drawing herself up to the most of her small height, she marched into the schoolroom next door. Leaving the door wide open, she approached the dear old Russian professor, Peter Vassilievich Petrov. 'Peter Vassilievich', she said, 'allow me to present you with these flowers'. By all the rules he should have refused them, but professors are human; he did not. Later, we made it up again, and I received my bouquets once more, for the Grand Duchess nearly always gave me one during those early years. I-well, I was more careful in my marking. We had both learned a lesson. Another morning would not be forgotten. There had been a children's fancy-dress dance at Tsarskoe Selo on the previous night. Gibbes, in tail-coat and white tie, waited at his desk for Anastasia to arrive. When she did, quickly and mischievously, her face was blackened like a chimney-sweep's and she carried a small golden ladder which she placed beside her while she waited for the lesson to begin. Gibbes, deciding to take no notice, was about to speak when he heard a rush of laughter outside the big double doors at the end of the room. They flew open, and through them there appeared the three elder Grand Duchesses with their mother. The Empress looked in horror. 'Anastasia!' she cried, 'go and change at once!' And, meekly, the sweep vanished. When she came back, her face scrubbed as red as a lobster, the gold ladder was still beside her desk; but everybody pretended not to see it and the lesson continued in the Empress's presence." - Trewin and Gibbes, Tutor to the Tsarevich

"Through the years he preserved from Tobolsk two cheap exercise books, each labelled ‘English’. ‘M. Romanof’ had written her name on one label. The other book belonged to A. Romanova (Shut Up!) Tobolsk 1917-1918.’ Grand Duchess Anastasia, more exuberantly talkative than her sisters, seized on one of Gibbes’s exasperated moments. When he told her to shut up, she asked him how to spell it and adopted it as her nickname." - Trewin and Gibbes, Tutor to the Tsarevich

"‘At the end of the farce [Gibbes reported] the husband has to turn his back, open his dressing-gown as if to take it off- Anastasia wore an old one of mine - and then exclaim: 'But I've packed my trousers; I can't go.' The night's applause had excited the little Grand Duchess. The piece had gone with a swing and they were getting through the 'business' so fast that a draught got under the gown and whisked its tail up to the middle of her back, showing her sturdy legs and bottom encased in the Emperor's Jaeger underwear. We all gasped; Emperor and Empress, suite and servants, collapsed in uncontrolled laughter. Poor Anastasia could not make it out. All were calling for a second performance, but this time she was more careful. Certainly I shall always remember the night; it was the last heart unrestrained laughter the Empress ever enjoyed.’" - Trewin and Gibbes, Tutor to the Tsarevich

"...Anastasia was the most amusing; she was always full of mischief. - “Anastasia is our family clown!” the Emperor once exclaimed, laughing, to my mother." - Olga Voronova, Upheaval

"Fleeting memories come back to me of those cloudless summer days. Pictures of the Emperor and his daughters at the Garden Party at Tsarskoe, the little Grand Duchess Anastasia, her cheeks scarlet with excitement, surrounded by a group of midshipmen, plying them with eager questions. “You will take me up into your conning tower,” her clear childish voice rang out above the hum of conversation. “Couldn’t you let off one of the guns and just pretend it was a mistake?”" - Muriel Buchanan, Ambassador's Daughter

"The youngest girl, Anastasia, was spirited, sly and playful; she would get under the dinner table and pinch the legs of some elderly statesman until her father pulled her out by her hair. She has been described as ‘a little inextinguishable volcano, with a world of her own’." - Bernard Pares, The Fall Of The Russian Monarchy A Study Of The Evidence

"The Tsar's youngest daughter was much the sprightliest and most entertaining. She had a comic gift as a mimic, picking out people's foibles in a way that made everyone laugh. "What a bundle of mischief," recalls her godmother, Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna, the Tsar's sister. There was also a serious side to Anastasia's nature. She had a restless, questioning intelligence. "Whenever I talked with her," says Count Grabbe, "I always came away impressed by the breadth of her interests. That her mind was keenly alive was immediately apparent." More than her sisters, Anastasia chafed under the narrowness of her environment and used her comic sense in revolt against it." - Count Alexander Grabbe, The private world of the last Tsar, in the photographs and notes of General Count Alexander Grabbe

"The Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicholaevna was sixteen or seventeen years old; she was short, stout and was, in my opinion, the only one in the family that appeared to be ungraceful Her hair was of a lighter color than that of Maria Nicholaevna. It was not wavy and soft, but lay flat on the forehead. Her eyes were grey and beautiful, her nose straight. If she had grown and got slim she would have been the prettiest in the family. She was refined and very witty. She had the talents of a comic actor, she made everybody laugh, but never laughed herself. It appeared as if her development had stopped and, therefore, her capacity faded a little. She played the piano and painted, but was only in the stage of studying both." - The Examination of Sidney Gibbes, The Last Days of the Romanovs

"The Grand Duchess Anastasia, I believe, was seventeen. She was over-developed for her age; she was stout and short, too stout for her height; her characteristic feature was to see the weak points of other people and to make fun of them. She was a comedian by nature and always made everybody laugh. She preferred her father to her mother and loved Maria Nicholevna more than the other sisters." - The Examination of Commissar E. S. Kobylinsky, The Last Days of the Romanovs

Hope you enjoyed reading and learnt something new!

Want to find a book listed here? Reply, ask, or message me! I'd be happy to help!

[badcaseofcasey]

Steddie Soulmate/Met as Kids AU - Part 3 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

a/n: you guys are all too sweet - I'm so glad you're enjoying this little idea of mine, that has now grown into a 5k+ fic - so there's more to come!

Steve started high school with a chip on his shoulder; he’d done well enough in middle school sports that he’d be a shoe-in for JV, if not Varsity. He, Tommy H, and Carol had risen to the top of the pile, and even though they were back to being the new folks on campus, he was fully assuming that high school would be just as easy for him as middle school, at least as far as social standing went.

But as he got used to the new environment, he couldn’t help but notice the feeling of electricity that shot through his veins every so often. At first, he thought he could chalk it up to the sensation of being in a new place surrounded by new people, the hustle and bustle of it all, the independence of finally being a high schooler. It took until lunchtime during their third week of school to realize what the buzzing under his skin really meant.

Steve, Tommy, and Carol had just sat down to eat when Steve’s attention was drawn to a commotion on the other side of the cafeteria.

One of the other students (a sophomore, he thought?) had stood up on one of the tables and was speaking loudly to anyone who would listen. Steve was too far away to make out any of what he was saying, but he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and the buzzing sensation felt like it had been turned up to its highest setting.

“Get a load of Munson,” Tommy scoffed. “What a freak.”

“Munson?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, Eddie Munson,” Tommy explained. “He just moved here to live with his uncle - apparently his dad got thrown in jail and his mom didn’t want him, so he’s with his uncle in the trailer park. My mom heard about it from one of the secretaries at City Hall. Social Services brought him into town.”

“My sister says he’s so weird,” Carol added on. Her sister was a year older than them and Carol had taken to repeating whatever her sister had told her so they could start out high school quote-unquote the right way. “He wasn’t here last year, but he’s already been in detention like, six times for talking back to teachers. She says he’s the definition of trailer trash.”

Steve frowned. He tried to catch a glimpse of Munson’s face to see if he recognized him. Something about the way he captivated a crowd felt familiar. The buzzing sensation under his skin picked up again as Munson’s face turned their way. Steve snapped his eyes back down to the table.

“Whatever,” Tommy said. “He’s not worth our time, anyway.”

“Except for… you know,” Carol whispered, very poorly miming smoking a joint. “Apparently he sells drugs.”

Steve let their conversation wash over him as he pushed the food around on his tray. He had been waiting for the day when he might get to see his soulmate again, desperate to see how he’d grown up, if he still felt magnetic the way he had at the park. Now, it seemed, here he was. But could it really be him?

Part of Steve - the part he hated sometimes - was hoping it wasn’t the same person. The way Tommy and Carol talked about Eddie Munson made it clear that there was no way they’d ever want to hang out with him, even if they did find out that he was Steve’s soulmate.

“Steve?” Carol said. “Are you hearing us?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Munson’s a freak. Not worth our time.”

From then on, Steve was determined to see Eddie as little as possible. He convinced himself that maintaining the status quo and staying on the top of the pecking order was more important than anything else - soulmate or no soulmate.

Sure, he would still see Eddie around. He had a habit of showing up at parties he wasn’t invited to, there on business, as Tommy would jokingly say. Every time, Steve would feel that same rush of energy flowing along his side, where he knew the words hey, you want to fight a dragon with me? were scrawled. But every time, Steve held himself back, resisting the pull of Eddie’s magnet.

Even when Eddie flunked his first try at senior year and they ended up in some of the same classes, Steve did his best to stay away from him. Every so often, Tommy would try to get under Eddie’s skin, making snide comments as they passed in the hall, but Steve made sure they never lingered, reminding Tommy of his words in the cafeteria that day - “he’s not worth our time.”

By the time Nancy Wheeler came into his life, Steve fully believed that he could make a relationship work with someone other than his soulmate. Nancy had her words, too, though she also claimed not to know who they were from. For a while, dating Nancy was easy. It made sense: the handsome jock and the girl next door. If they just tried hard enough, Steve was sure they could have a good life together. People got married who weren’t soulmates all the time. And besides, Nancy made him a better person, and wasn’t that what everyone said your soulmate was supposed to do, anyway?

But then came Halloween, the word bullshit spat out in between sips of punch, and the revelation that Nancy’s words had come from Jonathan Byers, of all people. And Steve was back to being alone.

Or well, not really; because along with Nancy had come a gaggle of kids and the knowledge of things that he thought only existed in horror movies. And even after he and Nancy broke up and all the fighting was over - for now - he still had the distinction of being the best goddamn babysitter in Hawkins, Indiana.

So he had Dustin, and the other kids, and eventually Robin, and he was happy. Content. Eddie was still there, but almost in the same way he had been there before Steve had seen him again in the cafeteria. For now, Eddie was back in his memories. Steve was fine if he never saw his soulmate again - really, he was fine.

He could date, and hookup, and when he needed that feeling of something he would have forever that he could depend on, he could remind himself that he had the kids, and Robin, and Joyce and Hopper, and even Nancy and Jonathan, after a while. It was better this way, to keep that one perfect afternoon with Sir Eddie safe in his head, where no one could touch it.

Steve should have known that befriending a bunch of teenage D&D nerds would eventually come around to bite him in the ass.

Part 4

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[muffinsin]

Thank you so much for all these great posts. They've been really helping me while my dog is really sick.

I don't know if you've written something like this already, but maybe you could write one where the sisters fall in love with one of the maids from afar but they're afraid to talk to her because she might be scared of them?

Of course! I’m glad you’re enjoying them & I hope your dog will be better soon! :( (give us doggo updates?👀). I’ve mentioned them being worried in a couple of posts, though never fully elaborated I think

Let’s get into it! :)

Masterlists

Bela

She’s had her eye on you for a while already now

Never has she dared approach you

Much less talk to you!

Bela’s a nervous wreck when you do as much as look at her

Having discovered you originally after you cleaned her office, she immediately felt intrigued

Bela is, some might say, a difficult person

When maidens clean her room or office, it’s even more dangerous than with her sisters. This is her private area

And she has a very, very specific order and pattern of placing her things. Pencils must be right where she left them, papers even more so

Often the staff mistakes these things. Pencils she left out, shoes she left out, papers meant to be easily taken are moved back to the stash of papers on her desk

Has she hates it! She feels, she must reorganise her entire room after it’s been cleaned

You don’t make these mistakes, though

You clean, and only clean. You respect her enough to view what seems like clutter to others as precision

Pencils are right where they’re left. Clothing is re-folded, and put right where she left them

This is bound to catch her attention. You stand out

Yet, Bela starts to fall in love long after she’s made you her private maiden, the one appointed to only her and all her needs

For when you clean her bookshelf and put finished books- neatly piled so you won’t move those she wants untouched- back in the shelf. Perfectly organised, of course

It’s as if you understand her

And yet, she’s too scared to face you

Bela feels flustered when she once finds a note next to her pile of unfinished books

Recommendations…

She didn’t think any maid really took to reading. Even knew how to. And much less did she assume anybody would share her taste

But, upon following your recommendations, she finds they’re very good!

She leaves them out subtly, to show you she’s read through each and every one of them

To ask you, without having to face you, for more

And you keep making recommendations

Bela catches herself falling for you, and tests you

Sometimes she leaves slips of papers containing quotes

She falls back on her bed with a large grin when you pass her tests, writing the books they’re from, or promising you will read them

Your handwriting is neat too, she notices

Yet, Bela wonders and adores from afar

She watches you work, and eagerly takes in all you do. She gazes, stares maybe even, but never engages

What if you too, will see her as a monster?

Cassandra

Cassandra is intrigued by you the moment you’re sent to the castle for work

The blacksmith. You’re to make her weapons

She’s thrilled! She goes to visit you immediately, having a full list of what she’d like

But-

She’s almost shrieking at you when she comes inside and almost swarms face first into your muscular back

It’s rare she sees someone with muscles at the castle! Though she knows your work technically demand some

She’s by far more flustered than she’d like to admit, and when you begin turning around, she’s quick to swarm away, leaving only flies and the list falling to the floor

Behind a wall and out of sight, she face palms herself

So much for being menacing…

She admires as you work, even if she never allows you to see her

That’s right, the sadistic little middle child of Alcina Dimitrescu is smitten, laying on one of the wooden foundations of the wall, far above you as she watches you work the furnace

Large muscles glistening with sweat…

Cassandra basks in it all, and the warmth of the furnace

She watches wide eyed as you craft her a sickle and dagger, eyes wide when you add a little bit of something to it

No previous blacksmith has ever dared swat from her exact orders

But- it’s beautiful

A pattern at the grip, a beautiful one resembling her swarm

She nearly falls from her lounging position as she tries to get a closer look, and the thought of falling, halfway swarming and landing in your arms is enough to fluster her already

She scolds herself for being this way. Daniela would act like this, not her!

But, she just can’t help it around you. She feels by far too careless and by far sweeter than she is

Then, you start gifting her things

She finds random, little things of metal crafted to her- things she has not commissions

Things that make her stony heart melt

You craft her beautiful daggers with a gemstone as gold as her choker’s gemstone at the bottom

And, something particular that makes her breath hitch

A silver platter, with silver, bronze and copper hearts, beautifully crafted just for her

Not the cliché, sweet hearts. Realistic ones. With a dark metal serving as blood at the top

She swoons at the sight

And still, she can’t bring herself to talk to you for a second reason:

What if you’re scared of her?

While she feels like a flustered maiden merely watching you, this is a harsh contrast to her behaviour around everybody else

She knows her reputation

A monster

The sadistic one, it’s best to stay out of sight

The mistress of torture

She knows, these things are all right. And she’s proud of these titles, of the fear she strikes in all but her family

Yet, she can’t help but feel worried you also see her as such

What if the little gifts and addition you make her are nothing but a way, an attempt, to stay on her good side and alive?

What if you too are trying to save yourself from her clutches?

Daniela

Our sweet Daniela, delusional and naive, yet so fast to fall in love

Or what she calls love, at least

She’s been watching you, love evident in her eyes as she dreamily watches you from her window

You’re the gardener, watering the flowers she loves so much. Oh, she wishes she could go outside and pick some!

But the cold temperature suggests otherwise, and locks her inside the warmth of the castle

Oh, but she watches, head held up and resting against her palms, a dreamy expression on her face as she watches you tend to the plants and hedges growing in winter

White and purple flowers on the ground

You’re wrapped into many layers to keep warm, and she wishes she could merely copy you

Daniela watches every day, sighing dreamily and smiling lovingly as you tend to it all

Her cheeks warm when you look up, yet she knows she is too far up and in the distance for you to make her figure out at the window

What she doesn’t mind is, however, that you are very capable of seeing her when she does not glance at you from her room, high above the ground in the castle’s tower, but from the library

You feel the youngest Dimitrescu daughter stare at the back of your head when you work, and you can’t help but feel flustered

She’s very…adamant on watching you

She stares every day

Oh, and she admires every day

And sometimes, sweet Daniela gets so lost in her daydreams, she doesn’t even notice you look back at her and catch her staring

She blushes wild pink when she, one day, wakes up to flowers set outside her door

The white and light pink ones from the garden, with two purple ones in the bouquet!

She falls even more for you,

Each day she receives another flower, and each day she folds them into a beautiful flower crown

Daniela is sad when they die- she wishes she could just go outside

And her sadness is apparent when she plays with the dead flower petals between her petite hands, sitting once again at her seat at the window of the library

You understand the Lady’s sadness, and Daniela finds herself grinning again when instead of flowers, you bring her a slip of paper folded like a flower each day

You get her!

She yearns to feel your touch. A knight to her, the princess

Yet, she fears- what if she is not the princess, but the monster? And her knight?

What if you are not hers, but a knight sent to slay the beast that is her?

[xoxothesubwayfugitive]

My decade spanning epic canon-supporting Lucissa fic is finished

I've been chipping away at Be Careful of the Curse for exactly 8 years and finally wrapped it up yesterday. I would love for you to check it out so I've included some high points and corresponding quotes as a teaser. I'm going to add the excerpts after the cut to avoid forcing the world's longest post on you

Lucius and Narcissa as an arranged match, but only after his intended bride Andromeda runs away

Severus as their houseguest while they're newlyweds and he's fresh out of school

Difficulty conceiving that almost breaks Narcissa

Lucius's internal monologue about the diary in Chamber of Secrets

Draco's reaction to his task and taking the dark mark

Lucius and Narcissa grieving their oldest friend

An attempt at reconciliation with Andromeda

Draco realizing he will never escape a cursed life

Their first meeting after Andromeda's elopement

"How are you taking this news?" he asked her. Narcissa looked up and into the front window where she could see that the adults' conversation had turned more serious. Her father was writing something on a piece of parchment, and Lucius's mother's brow was furrowed. Behind her, life in Muggle London continued beyond the dense shrubbery.

"I haven't taken it too much at all, if I'm being honest. It's just starting to sink in, and really I've been thinking more of Andy…not that there aren't things concerning us to think of, but it's all come as such a shock to me. Apparently I'm the only one."

"No offense taken. But you have to know that your sister wasn't happy. I could always see it, and to be honest I wondered how she and I could make a go at it together."

"Really?"

"Really. Know that she'll be happier wherever she's gone, Narcissa."

"That's very sweet of you to say," she said, absentmindedly wondering what it would be like to hold his hand.

"I'm a very sweet man, you'll find. No different from when we were young." She looked up, and he had that same lazy smile on. It had been a long time since they had been alone together, a whole year since he had left school and they had been able to have breakfast, and he was really looking so much more adult that she remembered.

"I guess I can only hope so." She was smiling too.

Severus and Narcissa's friendship

Beginnings of fear and desperation

On Sunday, Lucius left before Narcissa woke, and she and Severus spent their mornings puttering about individually. Severus took advantage of Lucius's absence to spread his parchment out all across his desk, and Narcissa retrieved an abandoned baby blanket, still on the needles, from deep in a dresser drawer.

The pair decided to walk to her parents' house, even though it was windy and gray. Narcissa always preferred to walk, and Severus, knowing this, wouldn't deny her. They didn't say much on their way, but maybe halfway there Narcissa began to notice him glancing over at her and turning away quickly several times over.

"Would you like to say something?" she asked, laughing at how he had reverted to his shy old self.

"Well, yes, but maybe I shouldn't."

"Oh, now you must."

They took maybe 20 more steps, his face growing more resolute with each one.

"Lucius told me that you're trying to have a baby, and I just wanted to tell you I hope it all works out, because I know how much you want it."

Narcissa felt heat flare on the back of her neck for a moment, and couldn't think of what to say.

"I'm sorry," Severus rushed to say, resolution visibly dying out. "I shouldn't have brought it up at all. It's personal. I apologize."

"No, it's all right," she decided. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They kept walking, reaching the edges of her parents' neighborhood.

"You two really talk about things like that?" she asked. Narcissa knew they were friends, but she didn't know it ran so deep, and that was what struck her as odd about the conversation more than anything else.

"Not often," Severus replied. "But lately it seemed like something was wrong, so I asked, and he told me. And I've just been thinking about it, because I want you two to be happy. You deserve it. Your child would be lucky."

With that last sentence, there was a hard edge on his voice; clearly he was making a comparison.

Lucius was teaching Narcissa Occlumency, each day pressing her to lay Draco down and sit with him while he pried at her. Narcissa struggled with it. He wished there was someone else to teach her, but he felt increasingly strange about trusting another Death Eater with the secret that she was learning.

"But why," she cried out one day when he was once again successful at entering her mind, "are we doing this? Who will be reading my mind?"

"Cissy, it's just security. I know you understand that. We'll stop for today."

They were sitting in chairs across from one another, and he reached out to take her hand. It felt stiff.

"This is bothering me, Lucius," she said, and left him there.

Severus did come to the Manor for Christmas, but everything felt wrong. Narcissa didn't recognize the hardened man at the table with them. Severus had successfully grown as she and Lucius had encouraged, and then he had taken it into his own hands and gone even farther. He said little but not in the same way as before. Once shy, he was now terse, and somehow she felt younger than him.

"Lucius is teaching me Occlumency," she told Severus in a moment of rebellion towards them both over lunch on Boxing Day, "but I'm horrible at it."

Lucius shot her a look as Severus scoffed.

"No one is better suited to be an Occlumens than you, Narcissa," he replied. "And Lucius is not suited to teach you. Your only problem is that you have never had a secret from one another in your lives. We will practice together when we finish eating, and you'll see."

Severus was right. Although the force with which he attempted to read her was immense, it was easy, natural even, to keep him out.

"I thought we were close, Sev," she gasped out. "Why does it feel like you're a stranger when you do that?"

"That's normal, Narcissa. A good Occlumens trusts no one. That is why Lucius couldn't teach you. As cunning as he seems, he can be led."

Lucius released from Azkaban (the first time)

If he was released, Lucius would come straight there through the Floo. So all Narcissa did that day was wear out the carpet in the sitting room, and when she was done pacing, sit on the couch to rock frantically back and forth. For the first time since October, Draco was not with her or even close by; Druella had him upstairs and Narcissa had not heard so much as a hiccup between them.

She examined herself in the mirror above the fireplace. It was worse than when Lucius came home to find her pregnant; at least then there had been a reward, a happiness. Now she was looking old for the first time, she thought. At one time she had worried about ever losing the first weight she had ever gained, but now she would wish it back easily. To be plump with a new baby in your arms and your husband at your side was a thing entirely different from being a skeleton in a cardigan, hair stuck back with a quill.

There was no warning – he fell out of the fireplace before her, dirty, thin, tired, and was at her feet before she was able to stand up. Lucius buried his head in his wife's lap and cried as she clenched his shoulder to be sure it was real. Soon she slid off the sofa to kneel with him, and they embraced, undignified, at last toppling to lay down on the carpet. They bled into one another, adrift and yet moored for the first time in months.

"I am afraid to see Draco," he whispered when they were calm and simply breathing to match one another. "He will not recognize me. I am ashamed."

"Draco will know you," she replied. "He is an incredible child. He walks everywhere now. The pram has dust on it. Go shower, and I'll bring him to our room."

"A minute more," he breathed.

The diary

Lucius hated that book.

He had a trunk full of things locked away that Narcissa didn't know he had, and now Arthur Weasley, true to his name, was trying to weasel his way in their house with a warrant to find exactly what Lucius swore wasn't there. Mostly the things were trivial, or at least not so illegal that he could really be in any trouble over them. Potion ingredients that had been outlawed only recently, and some cursed family heirlooms that could go to no safer home than a locked case in the Manor. But that damn diary! The Dark Lord had never been a lover of things, and yet he told Lucius so clearly that that musty book needed to be kept safely with everything else that prying eyes should never see. And Lucius, for all his casual attitude in front of his wife, did not feel confident enough to dispose of something his master might one day come looking for. In a way, it was Lucius's most prized possession, and he didn't even know what it was, except to understand that he should not have it.

And worse than all that was the damned stinging on his left arm the entire time Draco was away at school. It didn't feel like it ever had before; it was more like his arm was asleep, except it stayed contained entirely to the margins of the Mark. He was frustrated and confused and by the time summer arrived and Draco was home, he was ungodly hot. The summer raged the way it had when Narcissa was pregnant, and finally by the end of it Lucius could no longer reason his way through anything that was troubling him, and instead swept all the artifacts into a box and thrust it into his son's arms, and led him down Knockturn Alley.

Draco's Mark

"I don't…" He was stuttering. "Mummy…"

Narcissa wanted to burn the Manor down with everyone inside. This brutal building that she had promised Lucius to never leave, that she had spent her childhood dreaming of as a home – it meant nothing to her now as she saw her son imprisoned in its walls. Their husband and father had failed them; her son, her shy, talented son, was crying to her because he was afraid of something from which they could not protect him.

"I know, Draco," she managed to say. "It's not a nice thing. But you'll be like your father. Isn't that a good thought? He will be so pleased when you see him again."

"I don't care about…that," he replied. She heard him bite off the word him. "I don't want to be in this position. I don't want to feel like you aren't safe because of me –"

"I am protecting you, Draco," Narcissa rushed to say. "Don't think of it like that. Of course I will always be the one to protect you. It’s just the Mark.”

Of course it wasn’t just the Mark. It was him as a replacement for a disgraced father. A human sacrifice. They went in to see the Dark Lord and that was unfolded to them both, and she felt her body weaken and her feet turn numb. She reached out for Draco’s hand and it wasn’t there. He was holding his arms tight in front of him and curling in as if his stomach hurt.

“None of that now, Draco,” he was chided. “Narcissa, why don’t you help him with his sleeve?”

There was blood in her mouth. She had bitten herself that fiercely. She tried, as she reached out again and made contact, to still Draco. To show him some comfort through her touch. She heard him choke, though, and then she couldn’t resist wrapping an arm around his shoulder as his bare skin was presented to their master.

Severus

"Yes, Cissy, I was with him, briefly. I was actually…" There he squeezed his eyes shut tight, and took a deep breath and held it. "I was with the Dark Lord, and he told me to fetch Severus. He didn't tell me why, but now I know…and it was me…"

Narcissa took his hand and squeezed, and leaned closer to him. "You know he was going to do what he had decided to do either way."

"I know. But I should have thought twice that he even asked it of me, when it would be so easy to just summon him. It did take me a while, limping around in the dark and with everything in disarray."

"Tell me what he said. Please."

"We just spoke as we always have. He told me I shouldn't be out in my condition, and I asked him if he thought I had a choice. I asked him about Draco and he told me that he knew McGonagall would still do her best to protect all of the students. He asked where you were –" At this, Narcissa had to press her face down into the bed beside him, "and I told him what I had asked you to do. He rolled his eyes and asked me if I really believed you would listen to me. And we clasped hands as we always did, and he went away."

They stayed like that, in the hazy, white silence, holding on to one another, for a long time as Narcissa cried. She thought of how close she had come to dying while giving birth to Draco, of Severus as a boy flinching away from her cousin in the Great Hall, the meals she had eaten with him alone in the townhouse. His brief, cryptic confession to her and her alone that he was not exactly who he seemed. The night at Spinner's End…

"I knew," Narcissa said into the mattress. "Not everything – not even close to everything. But he told me once that Dumbledore was right to trust in him and get him out of Azkaban. And it made me cold to him for a long time. I was mad at him because you weren't free. I was angry that he would come back to our home and keep deceiving you, and I only let it go because I needed him, I needed the help he gave me…look at everything he did, every person he saved while he was so unhappy…and I thought less of him…"

It took time for her to quiet again, with Lucius gently tracing his thumb back and forth across her forehead.

"But you knew," she finally asked. "When I saw you again in the forest, you knew he was dead."

"Yes. He couldn't leave it alone. He had to show me, and Bellatrix, and a few others. He called us and made us look at what could become of his servants. If he could do it to Severus, surely anyone…and it was sickening. I will never unsee it. I was going to tell you…" he paused and stared away from her with his brow knit, as if on the brink of something dangerous. "If something had happened to Draco, I was going to tell you that we had to give up. We were never going to get the life we were promised. I was wrong about it, all this time. We would have been his playthings forever." Now it was his turn to choke back tears. "And I dragged you into it, both of you. Draco will have that awful Mark forever. And I encouraged Severus, when he was so eager to find a family, and I had everything. He would have done anything I asked of him, and I let him…"

"Let's stop now," Narcissa soothed him, although her voice was still bloated too, and her nose was running, "you have to get well, and this day has already been so long. Let's see if I can find Draco, and then maybe we can eat again. Let's try to be calm for him."

Andromeda

"I heard that Lucius was hurt." This was not an expression of sympathy, beyond opening the door for Narcissa to share.

"He should have died. I thought Draco and I had just watched him die. It's aged him greatly."

"I feel like I'm 75."

"Me too."

Andromeda got up to heat more water, leaving Narcissa to stare at a man's cloak still hanging on a hook by the back door. For the Malfoys, the end of the War seemed like the end of everything, of their purpose and reputation. Andromeda was left to start over entirely with a baby, all alone.

"I want to give you money, Andy," Narcissa said when the teapot was refilled. There was no reason to try to temper the words or wait to ask; the two were not likely to start spending cozy afternoons together with regularity. There was no relationship to protect from awkwardness. "I know it's forward, and maybe you have savings, maybe there are things I don't know about. But I know you'll never get it from Mother and Father, and I know Remus and Nymphadora were working for love of a cause, not to make money. Let us do something."

"I have a pension from Ted, and there's a Victim's Fund for both of us. Harry wants to take care of Teddy."

"Harry will have his own family someday, and I hope you are going to live a long life. All I want is to give what should have been your inheritance. It's ridiculous of them to leave it all to me when I'm already – when Lucius and I are so lucky."

"I've been reading about his sentencing in the paper. Don't you think you're going to need it?"

"No. You were engaged to him once, Andy. You saw how it is."

"Merlin. Don't remind me of that. What are you going to do if I say no?"

Draco

They did get to the study eventually, and Lucius sat next to his son on the battered leather sofa there, conjuring a glass of water before anything else.

"Is she that sick, Draco? Do we need to do something tonight?"

Draco shook his head. He was hunched over his knees, one hand shielding his face from his father.

"I just didn't…I never wanted it to be like this. I know it's childish to say that, but life wasn't supposed to be…"

"It is not childish, Draco, to not want your wife to die."

He started to nod, but his sobs redoubled and he bent fully forward, clutching at himself. All Lucius could do, having never been the parent responsible for this sort of comforting, was place a hand on his back and wait.

[brynhildr13]

About the GazettE.

TL;DR I had recent experiences that reinforce my belief that Reita REALLY is still with me and with all of us. Even if they can be easily explained as coincidental. Please if you want, share something that has been helpful to heal. Take care. Gazerock is not dead. Gazerock never dies.

Full post under cut.

I consider myself spiritual, but not really religious. But let me take you through my last few days, if you so care. Its important to me and I want to share this in hopes that the others in this Fandom know that I share the pain and want to spread my own love and solace and peaceful mourning.

I took an hour drive to my twin sister's to have our birthday hangout on Wednesday. I had the GazettE on plus other vkei groups on shuffle, but I kept skipping most of the other groups trying to find the GazettE songs. A few came on and even with the heavy and rock and headbanging songs I was just sobbing. To the point where I told myself, "you have to keep your eyes open. You need to watch the road." But the TEARS were plenty and heavy. I also started to judge myself a little. Wondering why I was SO emotional.

Then I had one of those intuitive downloads where like, you know it didn't come from your own brain and then after you hear it your mind expands. I don't know who's voice it was. I couldn't repeat it if I tried. But it said, quote "but feeling is healing."

And I lost it all over. Because I knew it was right and I needed to sit with the feelings. So I let myself cry as much as I could.

And then, To Dazzling Darkness came on.

My favorite song. Well, one of them. The whole Beautiful Deformity album is iconic, but that song specifically is one of my favorites BECAUSE of Reita's bass part. (Plus my twin sister, with her music degree, thinks the song is well written and can back up why and that means a lot to me that my sister who isn't the most into heavy metal or knows the group near as well as I do likes THEIR songs BECAUSE they're good).

And after that I laughed a little and wiped my eyes and said, "ok. I get it. It has to mean you're here right now. Thank you."

Maybe it came from Reita. I'd like to think so.

Had tons of fun with my sister. Come home. Worked Thursday. That night i shed a tear or two as i watched a few music videos in bed. And i just said outloud and in my head. "As long as he's okay. I'd like a sign that he's okay, please." And i fell asleep. Fast forward to today.

Today's our birthday. I planned to grab my free trenta from Starbies cuz $0 is the only amount I'll pay there unless I'm desperate. When I got to the screen in the drive thru, i meant to order 2 cake pops for my treat. Cuz fuck it. Im desperate. I'm a sad bitch and I want cake. It's my birthday. But I have anxiety and panicked and ended up asking for them at the drive thru window instead.

And they gave me the pops and I waited to hand them my card and after a few seconds she came back up and said, "oh don't worry about them today. No charge." Once I was sure they didn't want my money I thanked them profusely.

And I drove away. And I smiled from inside. Cuz I'd like to think that that was my sign he's okay. Maybe he pulled some strings to make me smile and to say, with that grin on his face, "don't worry about me. I'm here. I'll be here. Have a cake pop you sad bitch."

I meant it when I said before his spirit is here.. there's truly a feeling of the hole in my heart filling a little. I feel like emotionally and spiritually he's here in my peripheral stronger than ever before. Especially because I had become more of a backseat fan that would slink out of the woodwork when they had new content. My "obsession" (hyperfixation) died down a lot after saw them in 2016 and 2019, and I shared my gift of art and they shared their gift of music. But that love and adoration never ever left regardless of how often I talked about it and showed it. Or didn't. Cuz NO ONE else in my every day immediate circle knows anything about them.

Cuz here's the thing, and this is just me, too. I don't have any better way or words to string together to say this other than this way. I KNOW that they don't "know me". Like , I'm not missing the physical presence like they are. I didn't sit with him every day talking about all the most common shared passionate things we're doing, etc. Etc. So I can argue for myself that because of that the burden is likely to not be as heavy as any of theirs. But music and the arts connects hearts and minds beyond the physical. And for me listening to the music keeps him close, and I almost think that I can Feel him when I hear it. I can imagine him putting a hand on my shoulder (with his endearingly weird thumbs, they always made me giggle.)

Idk I think Im getting a little off track. Long story short, he was physically here with me when he was at the shows. When he wasn't he was still there, off across the world, doing his thing. and while I knew that like in an unconscious way, i never really sat with that to be like "what are they doing right this moment" or that i could energetically feel them all at any time, you know? And I remember getting upset with myself cuz my first coherent thought after I metaphorically picked my stomach off the ground after it fell out of my butt was "well, it HAS to be ok cuz the world's still gonna turn." And that felt horrible to say. And that's not fair to me or to anyone who needs time to process this. I mean, YA, I GUESS, it WILL. But once again. This WILL still hurt for a while. And that's okay. That doesn't mean i have to "get over" it right away either. Cuz once again. The physical loss isn't felt (yet) or as heavy as the bandmen will feel. But I will feel. And my feelings are my truth. And i can argue the band itself will have worse grieving till the sun dies, and that still doesn't mean my feelings are literally less than for my own personal experience. And thats okay.

But getting back to the point of this, thinking and believing Reita's making his way to us, I now just have this new vibration around me that I know is spiritual in nature and it is energizing the room, especially when I play their music. He's here.

I keep thinking about The Haunting of Hill House and Nell's words in the last episode. And I don't want that to ever fade. I'm determined to keep him strong in my heart and my mind. Just like ruki said he and the guys would.

Anyways, I hope yall are feeling as okay as you can. I hope this may touch someone and bring more healing. Free to share things in the comments if you want, too.

[darklinaforever]

For people who say Tentoo isn't the Doctor because "he would be half Donna's" on pretext he "sound / look like her", specifically because of this moment :

Well... admire almost the same scene down to the head movements, but with different dialogues :

As for the "Oi", yes, often said by Donna :

Now admire the 10th Doctor who has also already used this expression :

The only thing the Doctor did in relation to Donna was echo Donna's tone of voice. Which, if you know the Doctor Who universe, is not the first time this has happened :

Oh, and he also stole her this expression :

Which can either always be explained by the voice thing we just said (the most logical). Or maybe it's because the Doctor is simply imitating the behavior of his companions... Hello Clara :

You could even theorize that Ten's tongue tics come from Rose (I mean... David Tennant outright said that Ten imprinted on Rose. So thinking that isn't that crazy) :

I'm not even the only one who thinks so :

The tone of voice and the expression "Well isn't that wizard ?" are literally the only noticeable changes and they are minimal compared to the other regenerations ! Other than those two things, Tentoo acts like he always acted as the Doctor / Ten (including the way he speaks) :

Even in official audios with Tentoo (from what I know), those two things are literally always the only differences ! In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it's even just the famous expression "Well isn't that wizard ?" which is listed as being the only difference in Tentoo since Metacrisis / Regeneration (don't hesitate to correct me about this subject in the comments if I'm wrong ! I really need to listen to these audios). Which is logical that he only has minimal changes, since the essential symbolic goal of Tentoo was that the Doctor no longer changes, to remain Rose's Doctor :

Afterwards the only thing Tentoo lacks is having said "Allons-y !", and "Molto Bene !". And since he keeps his "Oh yes !", "Oi !", "Brilliant !", "Ha !" even "Well...", and according to the "Empire of the Wolf" comic, he also kept "What ?!" (Oh, and also his glasses) So, I think it's pretty obvious that he kept it "Allons-y !" and "Molto Bene !" too. (In addition to having, as shown above, kept all of his physical ticks)

Ten himself doesn't say all these expressions in the episode JE. He only says "Brilliant", and that makes sense, because we're not going to make a character say all of his cult quotes in one and the same episode. The individual being doesn't work like that. The only reason why Tentoo throws out so many of these expressions is precisely to make the public understand that he is still the Doctor we knew ! But obviously that wasn't enough for some...

Beyond that to return to Donna and the Doctor, they have always looked alike anyway. What are two more similarities ? Evidence from one of my old posts :

And why does it look the same ? Because brotherly relationship :

What the metacrisis essentially allowed was to make them real brothers and sisters at the biological / DNA level. And I don't know if you have brothers and sisters, or if you know someone who has brothers and sisters, but similar ways of speaking in tone, and having expressions in common, that happens a lot among brothers and sisters. The fact that they literally only have one expression in common is a miracle. And then frankly a minimal addition when you consider how similar the Doctor and Donna have always been.

Essentially the Doctor didn't want to change, he wanted to remain Rose's Doctor and he did. He remained the same physically, in his vocal expressions and body gestures. But ironically he added a little of the impulsivity of his ninth incarnation with whom Rose fell in love, and finally definitively concretized the brother/sister bond he had with Donna, from a human point of view, on the biological plan. But since the body has no real importance for the Doctor, he kept something more tangible from her, namely, a fondness for the way she spoke (as he did with Rose, but in a less present way), especially since he will technically never be able to see her again. And all that, well it’s very beautiful.

[judyfromfinance]

Dead to Me.

(Obey Me/Reader)

Summary: ‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’, it was one of your favorite quotes. It meant that found family can often mean more to you than the family you were born with. The ones you share blood with. And often times it would get shortened down and paraphrased into meaning the exact opposite of what was initially intended.

But after coming back home from your year long stay in the Devildom, your house and family in shambles, it is no longer your favorite quote. The water of the womb that you shared with your sister meant more to you than any blood spilled between you and those 7 demons in hell.

Warnings: Violence. Death. Fighting and Shouting. Thoughts of suicide.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I totally forgot to post this to Tumblr. Oops. Just know this story would not exist without the talented earthliving on AO3 or @another-lost-mc here on Tumblr. My inspiration came from their headcanons Taken. (Hope you don’t mind me tagging you again girly. I totally thought I posted this here rip.)

Your stay in the Devildom was far from easy. Not just because demons threatened to kill you, eat you, or worse. Yes, there was a worse apparently. But because you had to leave behind everything you knew and loved. How the Prince of Hell even had a file on you to begin with was a mystery to you. You for sure don’t remember signing up for any exchange program. Supernatural or otherwise. But they did. And you were chosen. Just like that. Not because you were special or anything, no Lucifer made sure to drill it into your skull that you were chosen by happenstance. And nothing more.

In the beginning everything was rough. And it didn’t help that your ‘dorm mates’ were complete assholes. Stealing from you. At least what little you had to your name. Be it snacks or trinkets. And others ridiculed you. On your fashion sense or lack there of. And, peculiarly enough, on your lack of knowledge on Devildom gaming and anime. You thought for a second that Leviathan could be a friend to you considering your similar interests. You and your own sister grew up around video games and anime. You thought he’d be easier to befriend. But no. He couldn’t care less about you. You remember almost shouting at him after a particularly harsh verbal lashing. You wanted to remind him that anime (and you’re pretty sure video games too) were a human invention and he should get off his high horse and stop gatekeeping like a total incel. But no. You didn’t. Because even though you were upset, you still feared for your life here.

But slowly, things that seemed unnatural almost became… normal. Like some of the food. Although you couldn’t stomach some of it, others weren’t too far off from some human ingredients you were used to. Although no matter who cooked dinner or whatever take out was bought, it could never satisfy your hunger for a home cooked meal. And by home cooked you mean from your home. You didn’t cook often. You were kinda shit at it. But your sister? She liked cooking. And she would sometimes make you foods based off of tiktoks she saw earlier in the day. They may not have come out perfect, but they were great. And you would tell her time and time again how amazing her food was.

Being surrounded by a group of brothers would often bring up thoughts and memories of your sister. Though you tried not to linger too long, otherwise you might cry. And god forbid any of these demons caught you crying in the middle of the hallway. You wouldn’t be able to deal with that embarrassment and ridicule. No, instead you tried your damnded hardest to get used to living here. You’d be here for a year. A whole ass year. Not long for immortal demons sure but it was a lot for little human you. A year away from your little sister. Away from your loved ones and everything you knew. But thankfully, things got better. A lot better.

The brothers started to warm up to you. Starting with Mammon and Beelzebub. I guess it was inevitable with Mammon considering you had made a pact with him on your second day here. He was assigned as your protector. Or as he put it, your babysitter. And you would often tell him he did a shit job at it at first. But eventually after a few too many get rich quick schemes he started to learn more about you. Your dreams. Your fears. He tried to play it off like he didn’t care but it was hard to not care for somebody you eventually spent every waking moment with. He learned to love you. Just like Beel did after he formed a pact with you as well. After you protected him from Lucifer. You both shared stories about your siblings. Yea, Beel was the only one that knew you had a little sister. And he wiped your tears away as you cried about how much you missed her.

And after that each and every brother started to fall like dominoes. You remember the second to last brother to fall. Belphegor. You remember freeing him from the confines of his makeshift prison in the attic. He had tried to kill you. You can still feel the slight scratching of his claws as they grazed against your throat. No wait. He did kill you. You were pulled away by a strong magnetic force as you look at your own corpse on the ground. Bile rose up your throat. You remember your back colliding into a wall and when you looked up, all you saw was dazzling amber. Lord Diavolo and is ever loyal butler Barbatos were quick to arrive on the scene. They had explained who you were. And that maybe you were picked for a reason. The universe wanted you here evidently. Considering you shared blood with their long since dead sister. That day they all found out that Lilith survived and was turned into a human. To spend the rest of her days on earth happily. And you were her descendant. You remember looking around the room at the brothers. Some tearing up and others just looked at you in either awe or confusion. Except for one pair.

Belphegor had a hard time adjusting to this newfound knowledge. His hatred for humans ran deep and it was hard to override something that spanned eons. Even if his beloved sister had become human, it still didn’t mean they weren’t at fault for what happened. And he tried to hate you. He really did. But you wormed your way into his heart. Slowly but surely. Just like you did with the rest of his family. He learned to love you and all of your weird little human habits. He came to remember why he fell in love with the human realm all the way back in his Celestial years. Every time he looked into your eyes he remembered. And he hopes this time he doesn’t forget. Not just for you. But to honor his sister. He wishes he could burn the color of your eyes into his brain so he could see them every time he blinks. He told you that once. You just called him a weirdo and walked away.

You carved out a spot for you in this dysfunctional family. And you learned to love them. Though you had to set boundaries for each of them, lest they walk all over you. You were still human, you had to stick up for yourself ya know? But just because you learned to love these demons as much as they loved you, they can never fill the hole in your heart. And you started to get antsy. You weren’t allowed to contact anyone back home. To protect the Devildom and all that. But you swore up and down to who ever would listen that you wouldn’t jeopardize them like that. You loved them too much to do that. But you also loved your family back at home. And you wanted to just make sure they were ok. And although Lord Diavolo seemed to understand where you were coming from, all your requests were still denied.

Lucifer could tell you were trying to figure out ways to circumvent your denials. So he made sure to tell the other exchange student, mostly Simeon and Solomon, that they were not to help you contact anyone in the human realm. Simeon understood, considering he wouldn’t want to jeopardize his home, the Celestial Realm, either. Solomon just laughed it off but agreed once he saw Lucifer’s glare. He didn’t believe that you would come talk to him or better yet, ask him for a favor. He knew the brothers filled your head with rumors about him. Conniving, sly, shady and untrustworthy little wizard man. He still laughed every time he remembered the hushed whispers, that were a little too loud to still be considered whispers, that Mammon spewed to you about him. No, you wouldn’t come to him for help.

But color him surprised when you showed up at his bedroom door the very next day asking for help for the very thing that Lucifer warned him about. You pleaded your case very well in hindsight. He could see the hope in your eyes as you looked towards the only other human in Hell for help. Sadly for you, it’s been a long time since Solomon has felt such an intense love for a family member such as you do right now. He just didn’t understand your need to contact anyone. And he told you what everyone else did. It’s better for everyone if you just waited till the year ended to see them again. So you did.

You pushed your love for your sister to the back of your mind and tried to cover it up with the love you had for the brothers. You spoiled them rotten. Lucifer too when he would allow it. But he was often times the one to tell you to stop babying his brothers. Asmodeus would shout that you were a grown woman and if you wanted to baby him then Lucifer should let you! Everyone decided not to acknowledge the fact that he only mentioned you babying him and not any of the others. You learned how to cook with the best of them. Though you were still kinda scared of knifes. But you had to. To help feed Beel and his never ending appetite. You felt so bad for him that you always made sure to make extras for him every time you cooked. It must be Hell to feel like you’re starving all the time. You even bought him a mini fridge to keep in his room. Lucifer admonished you for that too.

No brother was left out of your loving and giving ways. Gaming with Levi was fun, though you did mention how much he hurt you at the beginning of your time here, he soon went on a spiel about how he was a yucky otaku and he didn’t deserve your friendship. You kind of wanted to let him know that this manipulation thing wasn’t cute but it was already 3 in the morning, you were too tired. So you just said you forgiven him and went to bed. Once in your room you noticed Satan on your bed, asleep with a book you had bought him from the human world open on his lap. You set the book aside and curled up next to him. He grumbled about pirates and treasure islands as drool dripped from his lips. No these brothers could never replace your lovely little sister. But they were becoming more of a family to you than some other members of your real family. You soon fell asleep and dreamed about memories long since passed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were sitting on your bed as your sister sat beside you. You both watched your tv and laughed as your favorite streamer said something stupid again. She turned to you and spoke.

“You know, I love it when I infect you.”

“What? What does that mean?” You questioned.

“I just like to see you enjoy stuff that I like. I like showing you my special interests and you actually listen and enjoy them too. It makes me feel nice. Appreciated isn’t the right word.” She grumbled, trying to find words for her jumbled thoughts. “I don’t know. I just like that you’re here with me.”

You stare into your sisters eyes as your own begin to tear up. You were always the one to cry in your family. A big ol’ crybaby. But you couldn’t help it. Sometimes you just ‘felt things’ way too much.

“I understand what you’re saying. I like that you’re here with me too.” You pull your sister into a hug. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. You wanna talk about something you like for hours on end? Let’s do it, just let me get comfortable first.” She elbowed you. You kiss the top of her head. “If you ever need someone to talk to about your feelings, or if somebody is scaring you or bothering you or whatever, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here. You know you’re the person I care most about in the world right?” She lifts up her head and smiles.

“I know.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s been a year. A whole year away from your family and you’re getting ready to finally see them again. You can’t wait to see them… but it feels… wrong somehow. Like you’re leaving a part of you behind. The whole house was in dismay this last week. Everyone was quiet. The brothers were contemplating on how they were going to get on with life without you. Some of them believed they can go about their regular business just fine without you. But they knew. In the back of their minds they knew that you stepped into their lives and shook up their world. Altering it forever. They loved you. Fully. And when these 7 demons loved something, it was hard for them to unclasp their claws from that something. But with you, they couldn’t hide you away. Lock you in a room and throwaway the key. Though some contemplated it. No. They had to let you go.

And like you said, it wasn’t just hard on them. You loved them too. Through all the blood, sweat, and tears you survived and came out the other side with a whole new perspective on life and a new family. It was gonna be hard leaving them. So when the day finally came to go, you cried. You couldn’t bring all your Devildom trinkets with you, considering some of their origins. So you gifted them back to the brothers that would cherish them the most.

You gifted Asmo a peculiar hexed hair comb that a RAD student gave you. It was supposed to be cursed so the user would always have bad hair days if they used the brush. Luckily for you, that person flunked their Hexing 101 class, so it literally did the exact opposite. You told Asmo that his hair was beautiful and he’d never need it, but he should have it, just in case. He wept into your shoulder as he hugged you. Levi got a anime figurine that you bought yourself. It was from a random Demonic Anime that you’ve never watched but you bought it because it was cute and pink. He told you exactly where he would be putting it and how he’d dust it everyday. You just giggled as you moved on.

Satan got a spell book from you. It belonged to your spell casting teacher that took a particular liking to you. Satan didn’t have the heart to tell you that he already had that edition. But he still cherished it regardless. Beel and Belphie got scarves that you crocheted yourself. Apparently the yarn was magical and imbued with a special silk webbing that would take the makers feelings and use them to keep itself warm. So if you loved the person you gifted it too, it would exude heat. And boy, were they toasty every time they wore it. Luckily it was always decently cold in the Devildom.

Then came the next two, Mammon and Lucifer. You stopped in front of them both as you knew you were keeping everyone too long. You took out a necklace and a ring. Both bought for you from your own mother. You felt a little bad giving these gifts away. They did mean a lot to you. But so did the 2 demons standing in front of you. You handed the necklace with a simple sunflower charm to Mammon as you handed the accompanying sunflower engraved ring to Lucifer. You told them they didn’t have to wear them or anything. Especially since the ring won’t fit Lucifer’s fingers anyways. But still, you wanted to leave a little part of you with them. A small sliver of your soul. Solomon told you once that if a human wore something or had something on their person for long enough, that object could retain pieces of that person spirit. Their energy. And you wore those bits of jewelry your whole life. It felt right to give these two men something from the heart. Since they truly stole yours.

You walked back over to Diavolo and Barbatos as you stood side by side with Solomon. They asked if you were finally ready to go back home. You nodded as you turned towards the portal, you wiped away your tears and pushed your way through the fog. Leaving this place you called Home.

Mammon looked down into his hand. The simple silver chain and sunflower charm glinting in the moonlight. He could feel a tear slip down his cheek as he saw your aura encapsulate the pendant. A beautiful shimmering glow that only creatures such as him could see. He quickly closed his hand into a fist, already feeling his sin clawing at his heart. Wanting no one to see the beautiful piece of yourself that you left for him and only him. Well, him and Lucifer. Lucifer ushered his brothers back the House of Lamentation. As they all walked into the parlor, a silent yearning filled them all. Belphegor was the one to brake it.

“I miss them.” All the brothers could do was nod, as they all felt the same.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No. No no no no. NO. This was not supposed to happen! What the fuck happened!? No no, you promised her. Now look what happened. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! WHY WEREN’T YOU THERE!?

You sobbed and begged and pleaded. You choked on your own vomit as you heaved into the trash can. The people around the police station looked towards you in pity as you screamed and wailed that this was all just a bad dream. They had to interview you, as were a potential suspect but they could tell you had no idea what happened. The pain in your voice, in your eyes, was real. Now the interrogation was more so a formality , for the paperwork than to get any real answers.

You couldn’t go home. There was no home to go to. It was infested with men and women in blue uniforms and wrapped up in yellow tape. Your house was a crime scene. Your sister was gone. You promised her. No. You lied to her.

You look towards your phone and see the millions of messages and calls that never went through to you since you been stuck in hell. The last one replayed in your head on loop. Your little sisters voice pleading for you to come home, she’s scared. There’s someone in the house. She called 911 but their not here yet. Why’d you leave me? What did I do? Oh god. Their in my room. I can see him. No no NO! HE’S… than nothing but blood curdling screaming and sobbing came after that. You hear a wet squelch before someone picked up the phone to end the call.

You heaved into the bucket as you cried. Your baby sister. Your everything. Is gone. She’s gone. And it’s your fault.

This is all your fault.

It’s ALL YOUR FAULT!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s been months since any of the brothers have seen you and they’ve, for the most part, have gotten things back to normal. All of them miss you dreadfully but there’s nothing they can do. Despite how hard some of them try.

Belphie has tried multiple times, along with Satan, to open up a portal to the Human realm to visit you themselves. Lucifer thwarted each and every one of their attempts. Mammon tried bribing Witches and Warlocks alike to take him up top so he can see you all by himself. Of course, none of them helped him. And then there were the others that held onto their sadness but kept chugging on anyways. Like Asmo or Beel.

It was just a normal day in the House of Lamentation when Lucifer gets an urgent call from Lord Diavolo. Ordering him and his brothers to come down to the castle now. Lucifer rounds up his brothers and leave’s immediately.

“What’s the big rush? Why does he need us there right now?” Mammon shoves his hands into his pocket. Toying with his little piece of you.

“I don’t know but he sounded urgent. If there’s something wrong in the Devildom and Lord Diavolo needs our help with it, then we shall abide.” Lucifer storms off in front of everybody as he knocks upon the ginormous doors of the castle. Barbatos opens them and ushers everyone inside.

“Barbs~, what’s the problem? I don’t feel like getting my clothes dirty today.” Asmo groans as he glided next to Barbatos. He sighs. “It’s quite… difficult to explain. They’re back.” Levi rolls his eyes as he toys with his D.D.D.

“Who?”

“(Y/n).”

And with that, all the demons went sprinting towards the main dining area. As they got closer they heard shouting and screaming. They all feel their pact with you flare up. The burst through the doors as they see you being pinned down to the floor by some royal guards. All of them shifted into their demonic forms but only two of them went in for the kill. Mammon and Belphegor were held back as Lucifer and Beel struggled to keep them in place.

“What in the Hell happened here!?” Lucifer shouted. Satan looks around the room and sees destruction of plates and chairs. He looks towards Diavolo and notices a very slight reddening on his cheek. Had you… Had you hit him? How did you achieve that? He looked towards you and all he could see was a mess. Clothes dirty. Hair oily. Face splotchy and red. Your eyes were even redder. Puffy. Like you haven’t slept since leaving them all those months ago. But you didn’t look tired. You didn’t look sad despite the constant tears running down your face. He didn’t need to be the Avatar of Wrath to be able to tell that you were furious.

Lucifer has also came to the same conclusion as he eventually let go of Mammon and made his way to you. He kneels down by you as he ushers the guards away. The reluctantly let go and you slowly push yourself up. He tries to help you but you smack his hand as hard as you could. You sit on the floor as you try and catch your breath.

“(Y/n)… what has gotten into you? What has happened that would cause you to behave this way?” You wipe your face and look at your hand. Red blood smeared across the surface. Your nose was smashed pretty harshly on the ground when the guard tackled you. Lucifer just keeps calling your name. Spewing questions left and right. You don’t answer any of them. You don’t need to. No. No. They answer to you. You pull yourself with the broken chair beside you as you look towards Diavolo once again. There’s a sadness in his eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You wobble your way closer to him but the guards stop you. You can hear A few of the brothers growl in the background but you pay them no mind.

“It’s your fault.” You whisper. Barely holding back a sob. “It’s… it’s all your fault!” You cry. Diavolo tries to ask you about this perceived slight that you have against him. But you cut him off. “Out of all the shit that I’ve been through…” spit flies past your teeth as you stutter out your words in barely veiled anger. “All the shit I’ve done for YOU!” You point towards him. “For THEM!” You wave your arms towards the 7 demonic entities behind you. “And all I ask for was a call. Not even! A fucking text! Anything. FUCKING ANYTHING!” You grab a broken shard of something off the table as you chucked it at the Prince with all your might. You barely grazed his arm. “And look what fucking happened!”

You fall to your knees as you sob and heave. “She’s gone. I promised her and because of you I couldn’t be there. SHE needed me and YOU took me away!” You bang your hand against your chest hard enough to give yourself a bruise as you moaned in despair. The air in the room seemed to vanish. The brothers were told about your sister from Beel. You had never mentioned her to them. But Beel took it upon himself to mention her. They grew excited at the prospect of meeting another one of Lillith’s descendants. You were the oldest? Sooo, were you more like Lucifer or more like Mammon? The thought of meeting this person that you clearly loved, at least from what Beelzebub had told them, instantly left their minds as they all connected the dots. Your little sister was dead. She had died while you were down here. Having fun with your new family.

Asmo gasped silently into his hand as everyone else took their turns as shock and horror ran through them. Beel and Belphie however, stood stock still. The complet and utter pain you were feeling. They new it all too well. All the brothers did. But the twins had dealt with a different type of pain. Considering they were once triplets. Belphie made the first move to try and comfort you. But you just shoved him away as you clumsy maid your way to Barbatos. You cling to him as if he was the only thing keeping you alive. Sane.

“Please. You can bring her back. You did it with me you can do it it again. Please bring her back. Please just please do it. Please I’m begging you please…” you sob into his chest. Tears soaking into his butler uniform. He pays your back and says. “I’m sorry (Y/n). But that’s just now how it works.” You fling yourself off of him.

“YES. YES IT DOES! It has too. You have to bring her back. You did it with me. Why not her!?” You slowly raise your hands, palm up. “Or… or… you can take me instead? Yeah. You can do that right? My soul for hers.” You ask quietly but his constant shaking of his head just angers you. You claw at your head, pulling at your hair.

“You’re a fucking demon! Souls are your thing! Not only that but you’re the only demon in all of Hell to have fucking time powers. LIKE HELL IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY! Are you really that fucking stupid!? That fucking WEAK?” You feel arms pull you back towards a warm chest. Belphegor holds you close as he tries to overpower you with his Sin. You can feel yourself get sleepy. You start to fall back towards the ground but Belphie holds you up. He whispered in your ear.

“I know (Y/n). I understand your sadness. Your anger. Your violence. But let’s sleep for now.” You try and struggle out of his arms but your arms feel like lead. You feel numb to the world. So instead you use up your last bits of energy to spew out one more sentence.

“I don’t give a shit. You’re dead to me.” Because even though you knew they could understand you better than most, the guilt that warped your brain lingered heavily. The day your sister died was the same day you told the brothers during dinner that you considered all of them your family. Levi jokingly asked which of your family was better? And you jokingly replied… them. So in the back of your mind, to keep you from killing yourself in despair you pushed every single negative emotion you felt onto those around you.

“You’re fucking dead to me.”

[samdeancass]

Too Much

Requested by Anonymous

Prompt: #39 from my Prompt List: "I'm not a human, I never was. So why are you expecting me to act like one?"

Pairing: Castiel x Winchester!reader

Genre: Angst, Slight Fluff

Characters: Castiel, Y/N, Dean, Sam

Description: Lately, Castiel hasn't paid much attention to Y/N, leaving them feeling lonely and confused. When they confront him about it, they don't get the reaction they were expecting.

From the moment you first saw Castiel, you knew you would fall hard. However, being the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester made it ten times harder than it should have been. Dean was always very overprotective when it came to you and was not very happy when you confessed your unique and deep feelings for Cas to him.

"That's not a good idea," Dean warned. But you stood your ground. "Cas isn't like the others. He chose us over his own family. That's not the action of an emotionless being!" Dean, defeated, pulled you into a hug. "I'm happy for you, but please, be careful. I don't want to see you hurt."

Sam, always the voice of reason, had a different perspective on your feelings for Castiel. 'I thought angels couldn't be with humans. How would it even work? Can they start families? Do they even understand human emotions?' Sam pondered these questions while you stood in the doorway, rolling your eyes. 'I've never read anything that says angels can't be in a relationship with a human. And I believe that Castiel and I can figure it out.' Your determination shone through your words. Sam smiled and nodded. 'Thanks for sharing, Y/N. I'm sure it'll all work out.'

After dealing with your brothers, you weren't sure that Cas could feel the same about you, whether he would even understand what they would mean. After spending hours trying to figure it out, you decided to just go ahead and tell him. He was sitting in the library, looking through lore books, when he looked up and smiled widely at your sudden presence. "Hello, Y/N." You smiled back at Cas, his smile always infectious. "Hey, Cas." You sat opposite him, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. He tilted his head with worry and confusion, clearly recognising your feelings. "Y/N, what's the matter?" You locked eyes with Cas, and your breath hitched in your throat before taking a deep breath. "Truth is, Cas, I've got something to confess. I've felt something for you for a while, but I haven't had the confidence to tell you until now. I wasn't sure whether you could reciprocate those feelings or even understand what they mean, but I needed to tell you."

To your surprise, Castiel smiled widely back at you, his hand reaching across the table to take yours. "I feel the same way, Y/N. At first, I wasn't sure what they meant, so I talked with Dean. He said, and I quote, 'If you hurt her, I will kill you, bring you back and send your ass down to hell.' I wasn't sure how you felt about me, so I kept them to myself. So, you couldn't imagine how happy you have just made me." You brought your hand up to your mouth and kissed it, a sentiment that made Cas blush. "I can imagine, angel. I feel the same way."

For the next few months, your relationship with Castiel and your feelings for each other grew. Considering your hunting life, you could have never imagined you would ever find someone to love. There were dangers to being the girlfriend of an angel, but you were already a Winchester, so you were used to the threat. Your relationship wasn't conventional; you had to teach Castiel a lot about love and how to treat the person you loved, but you didn't mind. He was your angel, and his innocence made you love him even more.

However, no matter how hard you tried to teach Castiel how to act with the person you loved, it never seemed to stick. You often found yourself alone in the bunker whilst he and your brothers were off hunting, stuck on the sidelines and feeling rather lonely. He never used to leave you behind; he loved being by your side whilst hunting, but something has changed, and you were determined to know what.

You waited until they returned from the hunt and walked into the war room, arms across your chest. "Oh no, Cas, you've done something wrong, buddy. She's got that look in her eyes." You narrowed your eyes at Sam, a silent warning to shut the hell up. He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender before making his way to the kitchen, Dean following suit but not before making sure you were ok. "Hey, kid. Everything good? Do I need to make good on my promise?" You smiled slightly at him and shook your head. "Everything's fine, Dean. Cas and I just need to chat; that's all." He nodded in understanding before following his brother. Cas made his way towards you, a soft smile on his face and placing a kiss on your head, but sensed your tenseness and his features changed completely.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen while we were away?" You shook your head, a soft breath leaving your mouth. "Let's go to my room; we need to talk about something." He looked confused but followed you to your room, closing the door behind him. "What's the matter? I can sense that there's something wrong." "You're right, Cas. There is something wrong. Something wrong with us." His expression changed as you finished your sentence to a look of hurt and sadness. "What do you mean? I don't understand. We both love each other; there's nothing wrong with that." You took his hands and guided him to the foot of your bed, sitting yourselves down. "I agree; there's nothing wrong with us loving each other, Cas. But it's been feeling rather one-sided lately. I always show you how much I love you by doing your favourite things and teaching you the ways of the human world. I always want to spend time with you, but you either push me away or you're too busy. You leave me behind on hunts even though you know I can handle my own. I'm kind of sick of being in this relationship alone. When humans are in a relationship, actions and feelings are reciprocated."

Castiel ripped his hands from yours, and his expression turned into frustration and hurt. "You seem to forget, Y/N, I'm not a human, and I never was. So why are you expecting me to act like one? I don't know how you act or treat each other in relationships, and I barely even know how to act properly with my friends. I'm trying so hard to let you know that I love you, but I don't know how. I never want to push you away, Y/N; I just don't know how to act around you, and it becomes too much for me to handle. I never want to leave you behind when I go with your brothers, but I feel like I must, so I know you're safe; that's the only way I know how to properly show you my love. If that's not good enough, then I suppose our relationship isn't working at all."

Before you could say anything, Castiel stormed out of the room and past the kitchen, alerting the brothers that something had happened. You knew he had left with the bang of the bunker door, and sobs wracked your body. You hadn't realised Cas didn't know what to do; you just thought he was lousy. Sam and Dean rushed to your room and wrapped you in their arms, seeing your state. "He's gone, hasn't he? He's really gone. I've really hurt him, guys. I need to find him to get him back." You were about to stand up, but Dean pulled you back down, shaking his head. "No, princess. Let him cool off; he'll be back. No matter what happened between the two of you, he'd never leave you." You smiled and nodded, but you had a horrible feeling in your stomach that he wouldn't come back.

Tags:

@bxoken-heartss @deascheck

[fancifulplaguerat]

I have further spare Aglaya thoughts. Cannot stop thinking about how whenever Aglaya mentions her hatred towards Nina it's predicated on Nina's cruelty/disregard for others contrasted against Aglaya's lines like “To this day, I've been paying for my kind-heartedness,” “It's a pity that everyone sees an enemy in me. Such is the bias against inquisitors. I only wish to do good; not specific, targeted good, like that Clara, but overarching good,” “I am a humanitarian. My duty is to save people, not kill them. I only condemn a few to death for the sake of the many.” That “I've been paying for my kind-heartedness” and “It's a pity that everyone sees an enemy in me” just make my heart hurt for her because I do sincerely believe her. Yes she is cruel towards Clara and deceives Daniil but I've said it before I will say it again: 1) I love Daniil so very much but *everyone* warned him not to trust her and 2) nearly every Patho character is an opportunist and/or trying to act after being dealt and incredibly shitty hand, which often results in deception and cruelty towards others. Aglaya is no different in my mind.

Also a particular detail in her dialogue which caught my eye is when she remarks that, “For a moment, I thought [Block] was driven by the same feeling that I am: a great man, when unexpectedly betrayed by the people he loves, will often seek to fill the whole universe with his blind spite. Yes, the feeling is indeed familiar...” I wonder what this refers to. My first thought is presumably Nina, but I can't quite imagine Aglaya feeling betrayed by her? It seems like they were too opposed? Like. I have no idea if I can articulate this well, but: Nina and Aglaya seem so alike yet fundamentally different that I just imagine tension would be endemic in their relationship. Also the way Aglaya characterizes her in the quote “Nina was the embodiment of absolute evil. The charming, intoxicating, beautiful evil, the evil that can drive you mad. The graceful and elegant evil that is fast to capture anyone in its web—even those who stand up to evil till the very last.” She calls Nina evil constantly. It is the lifeblood of her motivation—to destroy what her sister created. But that betrayal lines makes me think about what sort of uncomfortable love one can only have towards a family member that they fucking hate, like Aglaya does indeed think Nina is evil but also she is her (little?) sister and presumably grew up with her and I doubt Aglaya could see her as just wholly evil. That entire mess. Just compels me, particularly in how it adds another aspect to Nina.

I often think about how Nina is this object of terror and adoration more than a character in Patho Classic. Even sometimes, in my opinion, more an embodiment of utopia as Simon is for creation. Everyone close to her or who merely knew her as Mistress absolutely reveres her, perhaps even more after her death (which I think is the point, but, I digress). So to me, Aglaya and Maria have the most interesting dynamics with Nina because only through them does Nina feel more "real" to me, insofar as a character can. The dichotomy between Aglaya and Nina nicely contrasts this to me. Yes other characters allude to Nina being terrifying and so forth, but Aglaya's declarations that Nina is evil aren't accompanied by any reverence or respect or adoration that often does other characters' discussions of her. And it's yes Maria idolizes her, but as a child idealizes their parent. That is entirely separate from other characters who appear closest to Nina in Patho Classic: Victor, Andrey, and Peter, all of whom presumably had some sort of romantic attachment to her (if to various degrees and requitedness). Maria looks up to her, and in her words, “shall become her, [...] shall overcome her...” Maria interests me in that vein, that she aims to surpass her mother, and thus her idealization is necessarily different than others' who solely worship her.

I did not intend to write that much but this is what thinking about the Kaina-Lilich women does to a motherfucker. Apparently.

[burlowbeanie]

Ok. My prev reblog got me thinking more about Anastasia and samael and they are just so fascinating. A few thoughts below:

Character names are important in the locked tomb series — that’s been well established from the end of gtn, when Muir literally holds our hand and points that out to us. They indicate themes, plot points, relationships. Significantly, we don’t get another naming explanation in ntn and there’s nothing but pronunciations for Anastasia and Samael for htn, leaving us to fill in the blanks. I think that the gtn appendix about names was more than just a fun add-on; it was Muir telling us how to piece the plot together. I’m going to build from some theories I r seen circulating/respond to them with a close reading of the names.

Now, on to the og ninth pair. (I know samael might not have been ninth because it wasn’t definitively founded until his death, but you know what I mean.)

Anastasia: first thing that comes to mind is the Russian princess. I’ve seen theories that Anastasia is the bones in the corner of Alecto’s tomb, which I find convincing. I’ve heard theories that she’s done something like Pal and might be coming back.

Anastasia, missing Russian princess, subject to countless theories and myths and animated movies about her possible return. Only to have her bones finally discovered in a basement. (It’s not confirmed which ones were hers out of her and her sisters’ remains, but all of them are accounted for.)

I don’t know if Anastasia is coming back. But frankly, I doubt it. She is gone. Anyone claiming to be her in Alecto is more likely to be an imposter.

Now, Samael. The first thing that stands out about is name is that it’s one of those -ael angel names. Not surprising, given the impact of Christianity/Catholicism both implicit in the text and, after Nona, now known to explicitly be something influencing the thoughts and actions and persons of many of Jod’s crew (especially Cristabel and Jod himself tbh).

Now, initially that was all I knew. I may have been raised Christian and been, unfortunately, a theology geek, but I do not have a encyclopedic knowledge of all angels ever. Knowing stuff about angels other than, like, Michael and Gabriel always seemed vaguely heretical probably due to boring American Protestantism conditioning, idk. But, I am expecting some deep theological cut with the name so I go to look it up. And boy oh boy was I not disappointed.

So Samael is an archangel who mostly shows up in Jewish texts and lore, not Christian/Catholic stuff. He’s 1) an ambiguous figure, sometimes a fallen angel and sometimes not; 2) often called the angel of death; 3) sometimes associated with Rome/Christianity as the embodiment of sin/danger/god’s wrath against Israel; and 4) in most depictions responsible for Eve taking the fruit, having ridden the serpent “like a camel” and convinced her to do so (because he doesn’t like humanity? To spite heaven? To give them knowledge? Idk how many of those are actual traditions of interpretation.) I unfortunately do not know enough about Judaism to unpack that in full, and I hope that I am not completely misinterpreting something, but it’s fascinating that the “angel of death” is linked to the same place where the “death of god” is laid to rest. Then, there’s the link with Rome/Christianity and how much the necromantic empire reflects those things. The thing that is making me so excited though is his association with the temptation of Eve, the Serpent, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Now. That’s interesting. There’s a character named Angel, or something that translates to that. And she has a dog named noodle. And another fascinating element of tlt it’s use of memes. Several others have pointed out the baffling and one-off connection between snakes (some even suggested the the biblical serpent just from that) and Noodle, with the literal quote “Noodle. Danger” from the Angel, and how it seems to reference the meme-form way of referring to snakes as “danger noodles.” We also know that the Angel is passing down something, possibly the implant, that is an important message. (Angels are, of course, messengers of god).

I think that what they are passing down is Samael, in some form. The Blood of Eden himself. The angel of death. The messenger. The serpent’s companion, the maybe-fallen. And I think that he is going to return in Alecto, as we encounter the death of god.

I always wondered why Anastasia wanted Jod there when she attempted lyctorhood, if that was the truth, how she could have discovered a potentially successful mode of true lyctorhood and not have suspicions about him. I think that “doing the ritual more slowly” wasn’t all she did. I think she potentially found a way to transfer Samael’s consciousness, let him piggyback like Gideon or Pyrrah in htn. I think she got him safe, or at least partially so, when Jod killed him. She wanted to trick Jod into thinking he’s gone or something maybe? I have no idea how the Blood of Eden would have gotten involved, but based on their goddamn name invoking Eden they are definitely linked to him.

If any of the original lyctors or cavaliers are revealed to still exist in Alecto the ninth, it will not be Anastasia, the red herring, the dead bones in a basement finally discovered and proven dead after so much speculation. It will be Samael, the angel of death, the temptation within Eden, the companion to the danger noodle serpent.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Prompt: “Love isn't about being afraid that it will all be snatched away. Love's about finding the one person who makes your heart complete, who makes you a better person than you ever dreamed you could be. It's about looking in the eyes of your wife and knowing, all the way to your bones, that she's simply the best person you've ever known.”

Song: Ho Hey - The Lumineers

For Tolya x Reader please!!

The Bells - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warning: Teeth-Rotting Fluffy Sweetness I Guess. Not Proof/Beta Read.

My brain kept doing the Hamilton quote but replacing the words, "to the bride, to the bride, to the... other bride, to the other bride, to the revolution." If I have to think it imma share it, I will not apologise.

Tamar hands you another drink, and you take it, who are you to say no, it is her wedding after all. She grins as you take it, wide and playful. "You going to make a speech?" you ask.

"Like she would miss the opportunity," Nadia teases, kissing the top of her wife's hand.

"It's my wedding day," Tamar defends, peppering her wife in quick kisses.

"Our wedding day," Nadia reminds her. You watch the two of them, and you aren't sure you've ever seen anyone so happy.

"Tolya is up first though," Tamar says, taking a swig of her drink.

"You're letting Tolya do a speech?" you ask, unable to hide your confused enthusiasm.

"I made him promise no poetry," Tamar explains, "well, I made him promise to try and limit the poetry."

"What's he going to say?" Nadia asks.

"Something," Tamar shrugs, "I told him talk what he knows to be true, not what he has read to be true. I think he listened to me."

"What makes you say that?" You ask. But Tamar just nods across the table, and you see Tolya getting ready to make a speech.

The way he looks so filled with joy for his sister and her happiness makes your heart swell, but you can also sense that strange feeling you don't see in him very often; nervousness.

Tolya can recant epic poetry for hours, and not be discouraged by how many times Zoya rolls her eyes, or Tamar tells him to stop. But those are words of poets, of legend, and there's something in Tolya that is scared to hold his own work so close to the light. "My words aren't exactly those of poets," Tolya had said once. You had shrugged.

"I'm sure with all that you read you could write those poems times over," you told him. He had not agreed with you, you knew that, but your words had weight and they meant something to him. You knew that even then.

"Go on then big romantic," Zoya says, staring at her drink as Tolya stands, "let's see what words of wisdom, what ideas of love you pulled from those pages of yours."

"That poetry would work on you, if I was so inclined," Tolya reminds her, "you said so yourself."

Zoya pulls away from his words, looking a little bitter and it only encourages Tolya.

"Sister," Tolya looks at Tamar, who has pulled Nadia onto her lap and wrapped her arms tightly around her. "I have never seen you so happy."

"I have never been so happy," Tamar agrees. Nadia presses her face close to Tamar's, gleaming at her, watching her like she might be the only thing in the world, and to Nadia she might be. Especially in this moment.

"Between the war and darkness, some might have doubted we would ever get here," Tolya says, "but not my sister. For all her charms and her sharp tongue, for all those who call me a romantic, my sister is what I am twice over. I have never seen someone love so deeply and so without restraint as my sister."

You listen to him as he talks, and you occasionally let your eyes scan over the others, nodding along to Tolya's statements of Nadia and her devotion, Tamar and their love. You're watching him so closely that you barely even notice him watching you right back. How once he is done talking about them directly, his eyes move to you as he talks in what some might argue is even poetry.

“Love isn't about being afraid that it will all be snatched away. Love's about finding the one person who makes your heart complete, who makes you a better person than you ever dreamed you could be. It's about looking in the eyes of your wife and knowing, all the way to your bones, that she's simply the best person you've ever known.”

Tolya lifts his drink and so do the others, and you finally see him, truly see him looking back at you, and you feel scared to look away.

"He didn't take his eyes off you," Genya whispers from behind you.

"You're exaggerating," you argue, but you know it's half-hearted.

"Not even the smallest amount," Genya says. "And do you want to know why?"

You roll your eyes but against your better judgment, you bite. "Go on, tell m why," you say, trying to act uninterested, but Genya isn't buying it, you're still watching Tolya.

"Because I asked him about you," Genya says with a smile, "and he said you are the best person he's ever known."