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taintedcigs · 11 months ago

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— even if it’s handcuffed i’m leaving here with you

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: steve asks eddie for his handcuffs to spice up things in the bedroom with you, and once things go wrong, the two of you turn to eddie for help… in more ways than one. (wc: 3.1k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut smut smut, or*l (f!receiving), handcuffs duh, lots of praises, dom!eddie, steve kinda subby but also soft!dom? the dynamics are mixed LMAO, pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, slut), mmf, three way kissing idk

authors note: so this is what happens when a girl mixes her three hyperfixations; 9-1-1, steddie and CHALLENGERS. i wrote this v long ago it is a bit shitty and not proof-read SO IGNORE ALL MISTAKES THANK U. (also this is sm more meaningful to me now bc i got this song as my surprise song like i accidentally manifested this WAIT.)

and please, if you wanna support me; reblog + like + comment ILY!!

Steve is embarrassed.

Embarrassed that he has to ask Eddie for this. For handcuffs to use that he has no idea what the fuck to do with.

And of course Eddie finds it all amusing, a smirk plastered on his face while he teases Steve, rosy-cheeks turning pinker.

And normally, it would've pissed him off, Eddie's teasing, his flirty comments towards you, towards him.

But for some reason, it doesn't.

The three of you have this dynamic that he can't quite put his hand on, it's different, exciting, new, it intrigues him, more than anything.

You and Steve had just started dating, a couple months in, the honeymoon phase and all, and of course, Eddie had been there for it all.

The first moment you caught Steve's eye, you caught Eddie's too, the dynamic settled in then with Steve charming you right away, while Eddie's flirty antics didn't go unnoticed by you.

Yet, somehow, someway, it snowballed into you dating Steve. But it didn't end there. The three of you hung out often.

Very often.

So much so that you had regular movie nights, always ending up high out of your minds with Eddie’s shitty weed, talking each other's ears off 'till the sun came up.

You knew everything about his life, his shitty band gigs (the one Steve dragged you to, and surprisingly his music didn't suck), his uncle, his girlfriends. Or the lack thereof.

Eddie always mentioned how he just hadn't found the right one yet, just a bunch of meaningless sex.

And he made sure to always come to the both of you afterwards, telling everything, in great fucking detail too.

Maybe it was weird for anyone else. But for the three of you, it was your normal.

Especially for you, because you enjoyed them. Enjoyed his stories as they made you squirm in your seat. Reactions not going unnoticed by Steve.

And it's what led to Steve wanting to spice things up in the bedroom with you. He knew the sex was great. He was obsessed with you, and you were with him.

But, fuck, there was something missing. Something he couldn't pin point exactly. And he was willing to try out anything, especially when he remembered how much you reacted to one of Eddie's stories with the handcuffs, later mentioning to him that you really liked the idea.

The idea of losing control, giving yourself fully to another partner, and Steve's knees almost gave out right then and there.

He didn't know where the fuck to obtain handcuffs, hence why he immediately ended up at Eddie's door, enduring his endless teasing, sort of hoping that he'd offer to help.

An idea that crossed his mind, but one that he'd never verbalize, unless, you mentioned it too.

The second he showed you the handcuffs you squealed in excitement, putting on your best lingerie, making a show out of everything before the two of you didn't hesitate to jump on each other. His clothes scattered in the room, you in your lingerie, hungry for each other.

His mouth lingered, scent so intoxicating that you could feel your thighs dampen, lips all over your skin and hands squeezing whatever he could grab onto, both of you feral.

“Y'know I didn't wanna have to do this,” he murmurs into your lips, bringing the cuffs in your view, playing into it, enjoying the giggles you give him in return.

“Please, sir, promise I'll be good,” you pout with those doe eyes, making Steve almost cave in, cock stirring against his tight boxers, begging to be attended to.

He gives a rough grunt before pining your hands above your head “That’s my girl.”

“But you still have to be punished,” he hisses quietly, putting his weight on top of you, the cold metal off the first cuff making you shiver, he tightens it as soon as he locks it, making sure your other wrist is free, for now. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya, doll.” His hums make you whine loudly.

“For now.” You can feel his smirk widening when his lips attack yours again, hungry, as his bulge presses against your inner thighs, his hand holding your cuffed one in place, making you mewl desperately, kisses traveling down your chest.

And of course, you use his distraction to your advantage, quickly grabbing onto his free hand, the second cuff clicking onto its place before he can even attempt to protest.

“I guess we’re even now, pretty boy,” you tease with a sultry voice, but Steve’s head pops up to meet your doe eyed gaze with a panic.

“Did you just handcuff us both to the bed?” He asks, shear dread overtaking his face, making you furrow your brows.

“Yeah, baby, that’s the whole point,” you giggled, attempting to kiss him again but he pulled away. “Fuck,” he groaned, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh c’mon, I know you have a thing for women being in control.”

True, and it would’ve turned him on, almost made him bust out right then and there, if the context was any different, but instead he could just groan in panic. “Oh, sweetheart, I do, but fuck-”

“What?” You ask, face puzzled.

“The keys are in my pockets,” he murmurs, gaze trailing near the dresser.

Your eyes follow his, the jeans you threw in a hurry were placed upon the dresser, far away from the two of you, and there was no physical way to reach for them.

Both of you, cuffed to the bed, and no one there to save you.

“Oh, shit.”

The two of you tried every possible position to get out, but there was no fucking luck, and that’s when you finally settled on calling someone for help.

It was obvious the only person you could call for help was Eddie, but you knew his teasing would be relentless, curls bouncing each time a laughter rumbled from his stomach, making you huff out immaturely.

“Seriously, Eddie, this isn’t funny!” Steve chided, a bit playfully considering he knew how stupid the two of you must’ve looked, and it just made Eddie chuckle louder and louder.

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my week!”

“C’mon, Eds, just help us.” Your soft tone caught his attention quickly, his smirk disappearing just as fast before he approached the two of you closer, now able to get a much better look at the two of you.

“Oh, Harrington, what did you even do?” He rambled, trying to ignore that feeling he always got, but this time much stronger, you in your lingerie, and Steve’s obvious bulge that made Eddie gulp physically. Shit.

“I totally should’ve offered to teach you both.” He didn’t even know where the fuck that came from. Word vomit.

“Why didn’t you?” Curiosity got the best of you, and you didn’t even realize the implications of your words, until the two boys snapped their heads in your direction, like you’ve blurted out the most scandalous shit ever.

“I- uh- what?” Eddie stammered, eyeing Steve carefully, not knowing if this was a joke. Or if both of you actually meant it.

He never thought it was possible. This. The three of you. Sure the dynamic between all of you had been tethering on something more. But never straight forward like this.

It surprised both of you when Steve spoke up, lips twitching into a smirk. “Why didn’t you offer to teach us?” The two of you finished each other’s sentences, it almost looked intentional, as if the two of you have planned this, like the two of you ever talked about this.

You didn’t, it was just natural. Something you both had been too ashamed to admit.

Something even Eddie couldn’t admit to himself, other than a few jokes, and some drunken confessions here and there, but nothing like this.

All he ever wanted.

Eddie’s usual confidence was wavering, and it was amusing to see, exciting. Something you’d love to explore. Make him beg. God, you knew he’d sound pretty as fuck when he whined.

“W-would you guys want that?” Stammering, again, yet you can’t get too cocky, because you know once Eddie fully wraps his head around what the fuck is happening, he’ll lean back into that domineering side. After the countless stories the two of you have heard, it intrigues you both. So you and Steve unanimously help him to get there.

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t offer it, Munson,” you encouraged, watching the way his eyes oggle both of you, curious, ecstatic, that dirty mind conjuring something.

“So… you’re both sure about this?”

“Sure that I want to be fucked by both of you? I think so, Munson.” You roll your eyes, so bored of the fact that you’ve been handcuffed for the past twenty minutes with no action, and because you knew it’d rile Eddie up. You’ve seen the flare in his gaze before, jaw locking in each time you rolled your eyes at him.

And it works, like a switch, you see the dominance bubbling up on his face.

“Feisty that one, isn’t she, Stevie?”

“Mmhm, the dirtiest mouth,” Steve adds, soft hands squishing your cheeks with a smirk, insides feeling gooey with the way they both eye you.

He tssked, “Haven’t you taught her some manners?” You whined slightly at that comment, they both knew what you wanted, what you desired, your boundaries… everything.

A dynamic that’s been brewing for months… finally exploding into reality, and of fucking course you couldn’t hide your excitement, making Eddie grin.

He’s quick to uncuff Steve, a groan leaving his lips at the relief from the cold metal against his skin, making Eddie’s cock stir at the sound. His two play things. And he’s going to have so much fun.

“Wanna help me teach her some manners, pretty boy?” Steve didn’t even answer, holding you down and spreading your thighs while Eddie grabbed your other hand, cuffing you properly this time, tightening it and relishing in your pathetic mewls.

Biting the inside of your thighs, Steve didn’t hesitate to tease you, spreading your pussy lips open to show it to Eddie, both of them grinning hungrily, “look how pretty she looks, Eds.”

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Eddie hummed, admiring, groaning with a deep sigh.

All he fucking dreamed about.

Glistening with your arousal, inviting him in, and those goddamn sultry eyes were driving him insane, making him blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining, both of you looking at him like you wanted to eat him up.

A kind of attention he wasn’t used to, but it got him more and more riled up, confident, trailing his fingers by your inner thighs, the sensation of Steve’s lips brushing against your thighs while Eddie’s fingertips softly teased at your skin was something straight out of a dream.

Eddie looked at Steve, a subtle need to get his permission to press his lips to you.

So new… boundaries blurred and unknown, and Steve was quick to nod, hungrily watching the two of you, cock straining so hard against his boxers that he was aching.

Desperate.

Eddie was more or less the same, especially when you initiated the kiss, the softness of your lips brushing against his, making him whine pathetically.

It didn’t take long for him to take control again, the dynamic between the three of you changing ever so quickly, Steve still ghosting inside of your thighs, stomach, chest, legs, everywhere.

And shit… Eddie was a good kisser.

His lips were demanding, soft but somehow still teasing, attentive. His tongue didn’t meet much resistance as it danced against yours, smooth, on beat, the type that made flutters appear in your stomach, all the while Steve’s touches making your thighs dampen.

Too much. But in the best way possible.

If your hands weren’t tied up, it would’ve been surfing through their soft hair, demanding more attention, making you grew more and more frustrated, a smirk sitting on both of their lips at your pathetic moans.

A light scruff of Eddie’s beard scratched against your cheeks before he broke the kiss, “Steve,” he hummed, gaining his attention, head popping up all ecstatic, “C’mere.”

Both of them stick to your side, weight of the bed shifting as the gazes exchanged almost burned each other through the core. Full of longing, desire, and hunger.

Eddie angled your face toward Steve, “Kiss her,” he demanded.

A demand that didn’t take Steve a second longer to obey, thick fingers brushing against your face as his big hands cupped your heated cheeks, with your lips parted slightly he didn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth, possessing you fully, completely, an uncontrollable whine slipping past your lips.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “you guys are so hot.” His breath fanned against your neck, hot hands running down your body, all three of you growing more and more impatient with each ragged breath, Steve’s tongue still shoved down your throat while Eddie played with your breasts, lips on your neck, making you squirm.

You could feel Eddie’s needy cock pressing against your ass, while Steve’s was barely confined in his boxers, prodding against your thigh, you don’t know how or when it happened but Eddie had joined in on the kiss too, the three of your lips moving in synch, busy between each other’s hot mouths, tongues curious and on beat, all magical and tempting.

Dark depths you always wanted to explore but never could, sloppy and filthy in the best way possible, shutting your eyes close as you enjoyed it, felt it all.

Unsure of who’s tongue was tangled in yours at this point but you could careless, disorienting you in a way that you couldn’t tell whose hands were hot all over your body, everywhere, messy, and uncontrolled.

And fuck, did you need more.

You could tell they did too, dicks twitching against you in a way that made you flutter.

And it felt like the three of you communicated, telepathically, because both of them, somehow managed to break the kiss, making your face fall in for more, unable to do anything with your hands cuffed to the bed. Infuriating, and not helping the wetness that had well already pooled inside of you.

“Awww, our pretty baby is needy, isn’t she?” Eddie mocked, both of them shifting down to your thighs, attention all on you as they spread you wider, mesmerized gaze following your every slight twitch.

“Relax,” Eddie cooed, amber gaze dangerously warm, both making you whine and giving you comfort at the same time, and before you could think, Steve’s hands warmed you up as well.

“Let us take care of you,” he added, and you couldn’t help but enjoy their squeezing, kneading, making you feel so fucking good.

You nodded, squirming as Eddie’s bearded chin tickled your skin, planting kisses inside of your thigh, while Steve’s fingers teased you, and all you could do was whine, hips rising from the bed, lust overshadowing the initial doubt.

“That’s our good girl,” Eddie praised, your thighs spread open, pussy exposed, completely. The two of them taking care of you, hands everywhere and one of their thumbs teasing your entrance, collecting your juices, smearing it around your lips, making you go airborne.

You could barely comprehend what happened when fingers slipped inside of you, one at first, then two, slicked in your juices, teasing, pumping in and out of you.

Head thrown back, you embrace the euphoria, different fingers entering inside of you, both of them deeper and deeper, squelching noises and your whimpers so heavenly that Eddie could feel his cock twitching, while Steve pathetically rutted into the sheets, desperate for some friction.

Fingering you until you could hear how wet you were, opening you up. Fully exposed to them.

You were too fucked out to notice that they had both started kissing your pussy lips, lapping up your juices, drinking you in, Eddie on one side and Steve on the other.

Heaven-sent.

You moaned like a bitch in heat, Eddie and Steve’s dripping cocks stirred at the sound, desperate to make you cum, to taste you.

Their fingers linked inside of you, thumbs continuing their rubs, and that hot white spot appeared behind your eyes.

You wanted to cum.

Fuck that.

You needed to cum.

And who were they to deny their little angel?

You had earned it.

Back arched, hands tight against the cuffs, all you could do was mewl as their fingers were stretching you, licks all over your hole making your breath ragged, “E-Eds… Stevie… I-I… shit!”

Eddie was quick to pop his head to meet your gaze, fingers still continuing their movements, flicking your sensitive spots as he gave you that goddamn grin again. “You wanna cum doll… don’t ya?”

Your body was frail. The most beautiful ache. Your entire nerve system felt like it was about to explode.

Everywhere. All at once.

“Come for us,” Steve encouraged, his and Eddie’s fingers moving faster, Steve lapping up your juices while Eddie’s tongue found your clit, sucking on it like it was his lifeline.

The softest tongue, but the roughest movements. Just fucking perfect.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, “E-Eddie, S-Steve!”

“That’s right, slut, scream our name while you come for us,” Eddie demanded.

And fuck you wanted more, so much more. Just the idea of having two of them inside of you at the same time was enough to have your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head.

But you couldn’t wait.

“You-you’re both so… fuck… fu… fu… fuckkkkk…” Your words got caught in the back of your throat, pathetic noises was all they could make out, especially as Eddie’s tongue circled around your clit, suckling, fingers working faster as it finally brought you over the edge. Making you jerk and come so hard that white spots flew behind your eyes.

The wildfire and the chemistry between the three of you burning your insides, that tingling warm sensation prickling every inch of your skin.

“God, you taste perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie praised with a low hum. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that fucking moan?”

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve growled, making you his while he gently uncuffed you, each of their praises sending warm tingles down your spine.

Fuck, they were good.

And as Steve was about to get up, Eddie stopped him with a quick tut. “Okay, pipe down, sweetheart, you still have a lot to learn.”

With that dumbfounded look on his face, he turned to face Eddie, making him grin wider.

“Oh, Stevie you look so cute with that confused look on your face, such a pretty face isn’t he?” Eddie’s attention turned to you, still so domineering that all you could do was frantically nod.

“Do you wanna help me teach him, baby?” You nodded, again, gaze glazed, overtaken by desire.

The two of you were quick to pin him down, skin meshing all together when you helped Eddie cuff him.

“Let us take care of you, pretty boy.”

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader

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andredeyemii · 6 months ago

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T H I S Y E A R S M A N I F E S T A T I O N S

( most of these manifestations are unintentional because I've only known about manifestations on december so y'all, manifestations are constant. )

🌺 : : a rich and prestigious school with good quality education and fun things happening

🌺 : : high quality and big quantity friend groups with deep conversations and a majority of them being upper class

🌺 : : pretty privilege and compliment bombs from a lot of people from my classmates to higher grades, stares, talking about me, jealousy, etc.

🌺 : : a good christmas with 5,000P, an iPhone, dream watercolor sets and new books as xmas presents

🌺 : : an SP becoming really miserably obsessed with me

🌺 : : currently manifesting my dream closet cuz my dad is spoiling me and I'm showing him my dream style

🌺 : : unintentionally manifested being powerful at manifesting things through vehicles (?) LMAOO

🌺 : : i.e one time I thought to myself that I wanted our new van to overheat so I don't have to go to school.. and it happened accidentally.

🌺 : : i.e one time I was on my uncle's private bus and I loved it so much, I wanted the 3 hour ride to the beach to be 5 hours instead and we crossed a route where the bus was too big to fit through a bridge so we rerouted

🌺 : : i.e the last one is when my family made me skip school for a reason I forgot so I just lied that our car broken down but believed it as a good liar and then it actually broke down on the weekends.

🌺 : : I manifested clearer skin, symmetrical eyes, bigger eyes, and a very subtly slimmer nose so far

🌺 : : attracted self-development books, a 2025 planner journal, many blank page journals, and anything self-development

🌺 : : randomly manifested behavioral changes from classmates towards me

🌺 : : manifested fate from another SP we're dance partners and we're always near each other in and outside dance.. we have to hold hands lmaoo he glances too

🌺 : : manifested electricity coming back at exactly 6PM from affirmations during a blackout

🌺 : : manifested people getting karma especially that mean girl that turned out to be jealous of me, she would eye on my expensive stuff and talk about me eww wtff

🌺 : : going to my mother's city more often!! (she has business trips to the same rich big city and I get to come with her a lotttt)

🌺 : : attracted self-healing experiences, healing people, good mental health and high self-concept

🌺 : : blowing up on tiktok but I'm not coming back lmaooo

#just girly things #law of assumption #master manifestor #loassblog #dream life #quantum jumping #manifesting #self concept #law of manifestation #manifestation #loassumption #loassblr #it girl

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objectivelyimpermanent · 1 month ago

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Valyrian kinship terms, Targaryen incest, and non-patrilineal inheritance

So, there are between 4-6 kinship systems depending on how you count. The six are below, but they can be reclassified as 1) lineal kinship (Inuit), 2) generational kinship (Hawaiian), 3) descriptive kinship (Sudanese), and 4) bifurcate merging kinship, which has three types: bilateral (Iroquois), patrilineal (Omaha), and matrilineal (Crow).

If you count as 6 kinship systems.

The English language uses the lineal (Inuit) kinship system. David J. Peterson, who created the Valyrian conlang, chose to use the bilateral bifurcate merging (Iroquois) kinship system for High Valyrian, which has less discriminatory terms than the lineal kinship system.

The lineal kinship system focuses heavily on whether someone is or is not part of the nuclear family. Members of the nuclear family have distinct words based on generation and gender (mother, father, brother, sister). However, there are less specific terms for those outside the nuclear family: the female siblings of one's parents all have a single term (aunt), the male siblings of one's parents all have a single term (uncle), and one's uncles' and aunts' children all have a single term that doesn't discriminate by gender (cousin).

Bilateral bifurcate merging kinship is different in that there is a single term for one's father and all his male siblings, a single term for one's mother and her female siblings, and then a term each for the siblings of cross-sex of one's parents. Similarly, the children of the same-sex siblings of one's parents (parallel cousins) are referred to with the same term as one's brothers and sisters (dependent on gender); however the children of the cross-sex siblings of one's parents (cross-cousins) all have a different single term that doesn't discriminate by gender.

High Valyrian follows the bilateral bifurcate merging kinship but additionally discriminates by relative age for most relatives, as shown below.

High Valyrian kinship terms (bilateral bifurcate merging with a relative age modification)

What does this say about Valyrian culture?

Some people have argued that this is meant as a manifestation of a commonplace practice of incest in Valyrian culture. However, it's actually the opposite.

I would like to quibble a little here about the term "incest." To be clear, whilst some cultures practice types of cousin marriage, they wouldn't consider it "incest." All humans are related to some degree, and biological incest is not a hard line, but rather a probability curve that maps the likelihood of recessive genetic disorders and mutation. "Incest" is the cultural term that draws that hard line: it is the intermarriage of relatives too close to be culturally permissible. It's more accurate to say that the question isn't whether or not the Valyrians practiced incest but what level of genetic relationship they considered to be incest.

So, whilst it's correct to say that Targaryens practiced incest according to Westerosi cultural principles (and the principles of the modern West), it is only correct to say that Targaryens practiced incest if the level of intermarriage that they allowed was not culturally permissible in Valyria. Since the Targaryens immigrated to Westeros, it becomes a moot point, but when talking about pre-Doom cultural practices, a little investigation is required.

Firstly, Word of God1:

[https://www.historyofwesteros.com/george-rr-martin-in-conversation-how-interviews-grrm/] Excerpt:

Ashaya: Let’s ask about a couple questions about Valyrians that I have here… did Valyrians from non dragon riding families practice incest as well*? And did Valyrians other than Targaryens have dragon dreams, if you can answer either of those?*

George: No, I don’t think they particularly would*. I haven’t really thought about that.*

Ashaya: Okay. Fair enough.

George: I reserve my right to change my mind, but no, I don’t think. There was a specific reason for the incest which was to uh, you know, I mean, obviously they don’t have… these are medieval people and ancient people.

They don’t know about DNA or genes or any of that stuff, but they have some rough concept of it in which they attribute to the blood. This guy has blue eyes and his children have blue eyes, but if he marries someone with brown eyes, now all the kids have brown eyes, why is that?

They have some things, so… we can control dragons, we don’t wanna lose that ability, not everybody can do that. So we better keep it in the family, so to speak*, or at least with the other dragon riding families. Now there was, I haven’t gone much into it, but* there was another very powerful group in Valyria who were not necessarily the dragon riders. And those were the people who practiced blood magic. And which, you know, there’s some overlap in the Venn diagram with the dragon riders, but not necessarily complete overlap. And then there were just the regular people. There were a lot of slaves cuz it was a slave society. There were a lot of poor people. I think of ancient Rome or something like that. I don’t know that they would have any reason to to practice incest.

Here, GRRM states that it's unlikely incest was the common practice in Valyria: incest was used as a form of privileged consolidation of power in a society where certain powerful families practiced blood magic and particularly where a family's blood magic allowed them to control dragons. So, incest was less a Valyrian practice than a dragon-riding or perhaps Targaryen practice, and the level of intermarriage they practiced was likely closer than was permissible in Valyria.

Secondly, the choice of kinship systems supports that nuclear family intermarriage wasn't a commonplace Valyrian practice. There's been studies of kinship systems and the prevalence of incest and it's been found that the less discriminatory the kinship terms, the more distantly related one had to be to be a permissible marriage partner. So a generational (Hawaiian) kinship system is more likely to prohibit all types of cousin marriage, whilst a bifurcate merging kinship system is more likely to permit cross-cousin marriage of some types, depending on whether its bilateral, patrilineal, or matrilineal. [Source: https://research-information.bris.ac.uk/ws/portalfiles/portal/202655238/Full_text_PDF_final_published_version_.pdf ]

Generally, the terms that are rendered in the diagram above for the bifurcate merging kinship systems (Iroquois, Crow, and Omaha) as "brother" or "sister" tend not to be permitted as marriage partners. This would imply in fact that some permissible Westerosi marriages (such as Tywin Lannister and Joanna Lannister, whose fathers were brothers, making them parallel first cousins) would be considered incest in Valyria.

So whilst the use of a bifurcate merging kinship system in High Valyrian implies the Targaryen practice of nuclear family intermarriage was not common, it does imply something else: the inheritance system may not have been patrilineal. Amongst the three types of bifurcate merging kinship systems, the bilateral system used for High Valyria implies that matrilineal and patrilineal relatives were considered equally or ambiguously important.

The patrilineal bifurcate merging (Omaha) kinship system places more importance on the patrilinear relatives, whilst the matrilinear relatives have less specific terms that distinguish largely on gender and not on generation: this is why one's mother's brother and his son have the same single term and why one's mother's brother's daughter uses the same term as the mother and her sister; the terms mean something closer to "male matrilinear relative" and "female matrilinear relative" as opposed to the more specific separate "cousin" term used for the children of one's father's sister. The matrilineal bifurcate merging (Crow) kinship system is the mirror image of this. The specific terms would be necessary for when it's important to distinguish relation, for example during legal disputes such as inheritance.

That the High Valyrian bilateral bifurcate merging system does not have this lopsidedness implies that whether the relative is patrilineal or matrilineal, an equal amount of specificity is required. This may imply that inheritance could pass through either the male line or the female line of inheritance.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #targaryens #targaryen incest #kinship systems #kinship terms #high valyrian #crossposted #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones

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assmaster-8000 · 3 months ago

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ok buckle up boys

alchemist mc 2.0

- birth name; Baragsen ibn Bassam al-Irdjan (baragsen, son of bassam of the irdjan. baragsen meaning 'pride', irdjan being the tribe she originates from)

- chosen name; Izemrasen bint al-Aql (aql meaning intellect. she's not subtle and im not very smart)

backstory;

baragsen was born into the irdjan tribe, a nomadic people who revered the alchemical arts and saw silver as both a blessing and a curse. to the irdjan, silver was a neutral conduit, capable of catalyzing both creation and destruction. her father, a proud and ambitious leader, sought to uncover forbidden knowledge hidden by the gods, believing that such wisdom would secure his tribe's dominance. but his hubris led to a curse upon his bloodline, and he mysteriously disappeared, leaving his brother to assume leadership.

the true nature of the curse revealed itself only after the birth of baragsen, five months after her father’s vanishing. her arrival was marked by a horrific event; her touch could transmute any substance into silver, even her own mother, whose body turned into the precious metal and killed her before the eyes of the tribe's midwives.

unable to understand or control her powers, the tribe began to hide her away, treating her like a monster. her father’s legacy, now tainted by the curse and his arrogance, left the tribe in a state of confusion and fear. her abilities, a manifestation of the curse, made her a symbol of both the tribe’s broken traditions and the punishment for challenging the gods. baragsen grew up locked away, ignored and feared. though, her uncle, her father's brother, would secretly educate her in the sciences and arts when the tribe slept— believing his brother to have been right in his ambition, and hoping his daughter could one day accomplish what he failed to do.

years passed, and the tribe could no longer contain her, nor could they risk keeping her close. in their desperation to rid themselves of the dangerous anomaly she had become, they sought to exchange baragsen with an exiled mage whom they crossed paths with, a former member of the senobium, in the hopes that the mage might help her understand and control her powers. the mage, a figure who had long rejected the oppressive institutions of magic, saw potential in baragsen.

thus, the ex-mage took baragsen under her wing, not out of any maternal love or desire to help her, but as a subject for her own experiments— to explore her powers and perhaps use her to uncover further knowledge. desperate for acceptance and parental love, baragsen began to see the mage not just as a caretaker, but as someone who might share her desire for truth. they grew close as the ex-mage taught her to control her powers, and wield other forms of magic. for a while, she allowed herself to believe that she had found someone who understood her.

however, when she learned the truth after reading the ex-mage's notes— that she was little more than a test subject for the mage’s own ambitions— her faith was shattered. the person she had trusted had only seen her as a stepping stone in the grand scheme of things. the one person she thought would understand her plight within the suffocating hierarchy of the world only gave into the very same thing that expelled the both of them. so baragsen fled, vowing to never again be used by those who saw her as a means to an end.

she rejected her birth name, the shadow of her father's legacy, and the tribe that had cast her aside— and took on a new name: Izemrasen bint al-‘Aql, the daughter to none but the pursuit of raw, human reason— unclouded by dogma, by divinity. in her eyes, the gods and their influence were nothing but foolish distractions— and she no longer wished to follow in the footsteps of those who believed in blind faith, or illusions of grandeur. no, she wanted a world where humans need not cower under the gods, nor burn under the weight of something more. where humility and reason would be the utmost ideal of mankind. and she'll forge it with her own two hands, if she must, no matter how insignificant the change might prove.

her plot is unfortunately very similar to lachesis. i just can't NOT pull this lmfao. can you tell dr. ratio is an inspiration. anyhow, more trivia about her. if it's not obvious enough, she's a transgender woman. im weak for transness as a metaphor for monstrosity OOOOOOOOuhghn

- references;

her body parts themselves have slowly transmutated into pure silver. she has silver markings on her face like mel medarda (but not on her body), very art deco.

- age; 27

- pronouns; she/her, maybe they/them

- personality; rebellious scholar

- height; 5'3" / 160cm

- likes; folding origami (badly), high-quality fabrics, accountability, bird-watching, sly people

- dislikes; great heights, coffee, ignorance, authority figures, day time

- fatal flaw; her father's disrespect for the gods is her family heirloom.

- other; draws runes on her body in henna, often under her clothes, for easy spell-casting.

#touchstarved oc #touchstarved mc #touchstarved vn #touchstarved game #sorry for the main tags im insane and need to be fed #take a shot everytime i make an oc like this.#she's basically just the love child of lachesis and clotho it's whatever WHATEVERRRRRRR

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sallowskeeper · 3 months ago

Text

Uncle Sebastian One Shot Request by @stein0806

One-Shot is an inspired AU from Sebastian and Gracie's COMPLETED book: Hiraeth

Available on Wattpad/AO3

Cover art done by : @yoshitsuno✨

Sebastian Sallow was currently locked in a staring contest with a seven year old. He crossed his arms, standing in Honeydukes while the child held a diabolical amount of cauldron cakes, sugar quills, and exploding bon-bons.

The child in question was satan’s spawn, or the child of Ominis and Charlotte Gaunt. Despite having Charlotte’s DNA in him, the kid was a miniature version of Ominis sans the blindness. No, James—or Jem—had brown eyes that constantly swam with mischief. Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out how he was going to reason with the mini-hellion.

He knelt down on one knee, leveling the child with a glare that scared grown adults; yet this child had never been afraid of ‘Uncle Sebby.’ “Listen here crotch goblin, if your father hears that I bought you candy again, he’s going to never let me babysit you again.”

“I’m not a baby.” Jem pointed out flatly, “But you are if you’re scared of my parents.”

“Your mother has ancient magic.” Sebastian hissed under his breath, “Do you not remember the last time you had too much sugar, ended up manifesting your magic—and launching an exploding charm at your father’s wine cabinet?”

Jem raised his eyebrows, “I have ancient magic too.”

He did… “Are you threatening me?”

“That depends, are you going to buy me candy?” Jem inquired, grinning.

Sebastian had to do a moment of self-reflection. He was in the middle of a candy store being haggled by his favorite nephew and he was a twenty-four year old man that was about to bend to the child’s will.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is why I’m single.”

“You’re single because you travel too often and you have abandonment issues.” Jem reflected with a cheerful demeanor.

The free-lance researcher pointed at him, “You need to stop listening to your parents’ gossip. I’m happy being single and traveling whenever I please. Now get your smart arse over to the counter and let’s pay for these snacks before your parents are done with their shopping.”

Jem giggled like the little banshee he was and almost ran into someone while exiting the aisle. Sebastian barely had enough time to dart forward and grab her wrist before she stumbled back.

“Sorry about him—they haven’t exactly closed the gates of Hell and one of their demons managed to slip by.” He was about to say more, but he was caught off-guard.

The witch was shorter than him, her head reaching up to his chest. When she looked up at him, he noticed her hair was this beautiful scarlet of red. It reminded him of his mother’s garden when him and Anne would steal berries in the early evenings. His mother used to get so upset because she’d mean to use them for dessert only to find the ripe ones already gone. Her eyes were two pools of amber whiskey that left him feeling parched. He blinked, caught off guard by her elegant beauty and the corner of her lip rising—Fuck—He was staring.

“I’m Sebastian Sallow. And you are…?”

“The woman whose wrist you haven’t let go of.” The witch mused, glancing down to his hand that was still wrapped around her. He mumbled an apology, letting go, and she smiled back at him. “Gracie Hunt.”

Her accent was off. British, but… “Are you American?”

“British, but I spent the last couple years working at M.A.C.U.S.A.” Gracie replied, wincing. “Please tell me I don’t sound like a yankee. I’m supposed to go back to work tomorrow and everyone’s going to take the mickey out of me for it.”

Sebastian grinned broadly, finding her easy to talk to. “As long as you still stand by beans on toast, I think you’ll find yourself accepted amongst your mates.” She let out a laugh that made his stomach turn over and he subtly glanced down at her left hand. No wedding band. Not wanting the conversation to end here, he asked, “If you worked at Congress, is it safe to assume you work at the Ministry now?”

Gracie nodded, “I work in the Department of Mysteries, I’m an Unspeakable.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

“It’s Unspeakable for a reason, Mr. Sallow.” Gracie mused, a spark of delight in seeing his disappointment, “And you?”

“Call me Sebastian, please. I’m a Free lance researcher. The Ministry pays for me to go explore and research whatever it is they need done.” Sebastian explained, trying to ignore Jem who was pointing at him from the line to check out and then to the register.

Was he trying to say hurry up? If he bludgeoned this meeting, Sebastian was going to buy him sugar free fudge flies for the rest of his life.

Interest piqued as her head tilted a bit. “Free lance researcher? I’ve never heard of such a thing. What was your last trip about?”

Pride flared in his chest, immensely satisfied that she wanted to know more about him. “The efficacy of shrivelfigs on magical curses. I promise it’s more exciting than it sounds. I went to—”

A little demon darted towards him, grabbing his wrist, but Sebastian didn’t move not even a centimeter as the child tugged, “It’s time to check out! They’re gonna be done shopping soon!”

Gracie watched the scene, “Is he your…?”

“Nephew.” Sebastian quickly interjected, “A very annoying, very needs to go away for five minutes nephew.”

“That’s a lie, I’m your favourite nephew.” Jem said smugly.

“You’re my only nephew.” Sebastian noted flatly before shifting his attention back to Gracie, “Do you fancy sweets? The least I can do is buy you something after Jem almost knocked you over.”

Gracie smiled at that, “That’s very kind, but you don’t have to.”

“I want to. If that’s alright with you.”

He felt the witch’s eyes trained on him and he knew she was making some sort of judgement in her mind. He wanted to laugh because he’d done some atrocious things in his lifetime—sorry Uncle—and he’d faced down goblins, ashwinders, and Victor Rookwood—but here? Now? He was more afraid of Gracie Hunt, a woman he’d only just met, not wanting to waste her time with him.

After a moment, she nodded. “I have the worst sweet tooth in existence, actually. I heard that cauldron cakes came out with a strawberry flavor and I found myself dying to try it lately.”

Jem looked down at his armful of treats. He had two. “You can have one of mine! But we need to pay before my parents get here and Uncle Sebby gets in trouble again.”

“Oh, well we can’t have that.” Gracie bit back a laugh, eyes brightening as she looked back at Sebastian, “Shall we, then?”

Sebastian nodded and the two of them chatted amicably before checking out. Jem handed one of the cakes to Gracie as they exited out Honeydukes.

“Are you going to date my Uncle?” Jem blurted out, unwrapping a sugar quill, “Because he has abandonment issues and travels a lot.”

Gracie covered her mouth, trying to muffle the startled laugh that ripped out of her. Sebastian felt an unnatural flaring of redness spread across his cheek bones and rise along his neckline. He didn’t even want to consider the fact that he was blushing because he was also very pissed.

The wizard went to open his mouth when Gracie spoke up first, “Don’t worry. I’m an orphan so it’s probably something we have in common, Jem. Thank you for the information, though. Any other useful things to know about your uncle?”

“Yes, that he’s in very big trouble if that’s Jem I spot eating a sugar quill before supper.”

Sebastian felt a cold shiver and then turned to see Charlotte Gaunt on the arm of his oldest friend as they walked towards the trio. “I told him to wait until after supper.”

“No you didn’t.” Gracie and Jem both piped up. Gracie added, “I’m a hyperthymesiac, I’d remember.”

Ominis looked confused, “You’re cold?”

Charlotte snorted inwardly, “She’s got the rare ability to remember everything.”

Oh. Oh. Sebastian eyed her, “And here I was hoping that you’d forget this disaster of a first meeting over a date this weekend.”

Gracie smiled and he could see a subtle redness forming on her cheeks. Good. So he wasn’t the only one entranced. She was interested too. “Little chance of me forgetting, but you’re welcome to try.”

Charlotte cleared her throat, “If you’re not busy, we’re about to have supper at the Three Broomsticks. Although someone has has the choice to put away the sugar quill or have a butterbeer.” The witch said with a pointed look in her son’s direction, “Which is it?”

“What if I have half the sugar quill, does that mean I get half a butterbeer?” Jem propositioned. Ominis cocked an eyebrow. Jem coughed. “I’ll have the butterbeer. Thanks Mum.”

Not for the first time, Sebastian found himself smirking, and feeling a bit of jealousy towards his best friends. What was it like to come home to someone? To have his own little family. He felt someone’s gaze on him, but when he looked back at Gracie, she was introducing herself, and taking them up on Charlotte’s offer.

They all started walking towards the Three Broomsticks, but unfortunately; Gracie was wrapped up talking between Jem and Charlotte about the tavern, and how she hadn’t been there in years. Ominis hung back with him, using his wand to see.

His voice was low, careful of the women and very nosy child from hearing, “This is a surprise.”

“What is?”

“Don’t pretend I couldn’t hear how happy you sounded talking to her. You just met her, you fancy her already?”

“Is it cheesy to say I’ve never met anyone like her?”

“I doubt you meet many hyperthymesiacs in your life.”

Sebastian nodded, giving him a chagrined smile that he couldn’t see, but could definitely hear in his voice, “She’d better hope that her future husband never makes any sort of promises. If he forgets, she’ll lose her gobstones.”

“Exactly, so I hope your memory is good.” Ominis taunted, leaving him as they neared the tavern and he held the door open for his wife and son.

Sebastian took over, to keep it open for Gracie. When she smiled at him again, he knew that there was something life changing happening in his life. This… Whatever this was… This was the beginning of something. He swallowed back his nerves and gave her a humored glance. “Short and you fancy cauldron cakes… I think I’ll call you shortcake from now on.”

Gracie winked at him and he found a permanent smile slipping onto his face.

Something about her was nostalgic.

Like he’d met her before.

Like Hiraeth.

#Sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ao3 fanfic #wattpad fanfiction #fanfic #alternate universe #oneshot #ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian sallow x mc

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silverynight · 2 months ago

Note

"Dad?" Tanjirou tugged on Yoriichi's haori. The little boy points at a family leaving offerings at the shrine. "Who are them? You hang around them a lot."

Yoriichi picks up his adorable and precious son, fighting back the urge to snuggle against the boy. "Those are the Kamado family. They've lived on Mount. Kumotori ever since I manifested, and they've continued to leave offerings and pray for a good year."

Yoriichi chooses to leave out the part about the Kamados being Tanjirou's original family. Tanjirou, now no longer a mortal, but a spirit, stares at the family in fascination. "They've lived here that long?"

"Mhm." Yoriichi smiles and loses the fight against himself, bringing the boy into a tight hug. "Tanjirou, while I know how much the mortal relam interests you, I want you to peomise that you'll never vome out here without me ot your uncle."

"I promise." Tanjirou smiles.

"Oh, you are just so adorable." Yoriichi coos and presses a kiss into Tanjirou's hair.

A slight cough behind them is heard. Michikatsu stands there, arms crossed, and an unpleased expression on his face. "And when will I get to dote on my nephew?"

"Tomorrow. We made a deal, brother." Yoriichi replies, hugging Tanjirou again, causing the boy to giggle.

Michikatsu doesn't look too happy, but he doesn't protest.

The Kamado family leaves, and Tanjirou perks up. "Look, dad, they left candy and angelica sprouts!"

Yoriichi turns to look at the offerings left for him and Michikatsu, and sure enough, amongst the offeringa left by the Kamado family, there are candies and angelica sprouts, clearly left for Tanjirou.

Yoriichi chuckled and hands the treats to Tanjirou. "Here, they're for you."

"Really?" Tanjirou gives a wide eyed smile before munching on an angelica sprout.

During the next few weeks, Hanako, Shigeru, and Rokuta kept on insisting that a nice little kid named Tanjirou came by and played with them. Tanjuro and Kie had to hold back tears at the name, and Nezuko and Takeo had a small hunch as to why.

After all, while Nezuko was only four and Takeo had been only two when their oldest brother disappeared, it was hard to forget him.

Nezuko has started to blame the gods... she doesn't know why but she has the feeling they have something to do with their misery; sure, they bless her family every year and give them more food and keep them safe, but she doesn't forget what her grandma used to tell them: Gods can be very merciful, but selfish at the same time.

#asks #ask silverynight #demon slayer #anonymous #baby tanjirou

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kckt88 · 6 months ago

Text

Scorched Hearts - Younger Sneek Peek!

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

A glimpse into the past of Aemond and Valaena.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Mild Violence, Blood, Language, Secret Relationship, Uncle/Niece Incest, Shame, Self Loathing, Discussion of Brothel Visit, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, P in V,

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: TBA

A.N - Will feature POV from both Valaena and Aemond.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the high window.

Aemond lay motionless on the bed, the left side of his face swathed in thick bandages. Pain radiated from the wound—a constant, throbbing reminder of what had been taken from him.

Tears slipped from the corner of his right eye, silently trailing down his cheek as he stared at the ceiling, lost in a sea of anguish.

His world was half gone, lost to the darkness where his left eye once was. Now he was deformed, a scarred monster who would forever bear the mark of last night.

But worse than the physical pain was the ache in his chest, the unbearable weight of his father’s indifference.

Viserys had never truly cared for him. Not for Aegon, Helaena, or Daeron either.

His father’s love had always been reserved for one—Rhaenyra, his firstborn.

Even as Aemond sat in agony before the fire, his face being stitched back together, his father’s attention had been consumed by her.

The accusations, the demands for apologies, the placating of her Strong bastards.

That was all that mattered to Viserys. Not his son, who had lost an eye.

Aemond’s throat tightened at the memory of the hall. The arguments, the chaos, the raging voices, and the utter dismissal of what he had endured.

Even Valaena’s small, determined voice had been drowned out in the tumult. She had valiantly tried to defend him, declaring that Vhagar was not some possession to be inherited, but a creature of free will who had chosen him.

Her words had meant the world to him, but they had been brushed aside like nothing.

Viserys had demanded apologies. Reconciliation and gestures of goodwill.

None of it mattered.

Only Alicent and Valaena had stood by him. His mother had demanded justice, her fury manifesting in the blade she had wielded against Rhaenyra and her brood.

Still, Aemond had tried to be brave. He had stood tall in the Hall of Nine, declaring, “Do not mourn me, Mother. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”

It had been true, and yet the truth did little to comfort him now.

The divide in their family had widened, and Aemond knew where the lines had been drawn. He was on one side, and Valaena was on the other.

The thought of being apart from her—truly apart—twisted the knife in his heart.

The soft creak of a door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Aemond turned his head slightly, just enough to see a familiar figure slipping into the room.

“Valaena,” he whispered hoarsely.

“I don’t have long,” she said softly, closing the door behind her, “but I had to check on you.”

He turned his face away from her, his voice bitter as he muttered, “You shouldn’t be here. Leave me be.”

Valaena crossed the room and knelt beside his bed. “I will never leave you, Aemond.”

“You should.” His voice cracked. “You’ll do well to stay away from me. I’m nothing now. Just a scarred monster.”

Valaena reached out and took his hand. “You’re not a monster,” she said firmly. “You’re brave. And that scar—it shows you’re a survivor. Vhagar chose you because she saw your strength.”

Aemond hesitated, then slowly turned his face toward her. His visible eye glistened with unshed tears. “How can you stand to look at me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Valaena smiled gently, her eyes soft. “Because you’re my Aemond. And you always will be.”

Her words unraveled something inside him, and his lips trembled as he smiled faintly. “You saw what happened last night,” he said. “How can we… how can we still be friends after this?”

Valaena’s hand tightened around his. “Because we’re more to each other than that.”

Aemond's chest ached at her words, a mixture of relief and longing. “I don’t want to be alone again,” he admitted quietly.

“You’ll never be alone,” she whispered. “I will always be there for you.”

Valaena leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It was soft and lingering, her warmth melting through his pain.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were tinged with pink, but she held his gaze, steady and unwavering.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For defending me.”

“It’s okay,” she replied softly.

Aemond then let out a huff of laughter, a shadow of his usual confidence returning. “I did it,” he said. “I claimed the greatest dragon alive.”

Valaena’s face lit up with a small smile. “You did.”

The sound of footsteps and voices in the corridor drew her attention. She glanced toward the door, her expression regretful. “I think I have to go. I’m not sure your mother would like me being in here.”

Aemond nodded, his heart sinking. “You’ll still write to me, won’t you?”

“I will,” she promised.

Before leaving, she pressed another kiss to his lips, fleeting but full of feeling. Then she slipped out of the room, leaving Aemond alone once more. But this time, the emptiness didn’t feel quite so suffocating.

She was still with him, in her own way. And that was enough. For now.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond

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sisididis · 2 years ago

Text

The parallels between Anne Sallow - Ariana Dumbledore, Sebastian Sallow - Albus Dumbledore and Solomon Sallow - Aberforth Dumbledore

I’ll preface this deep dive into the Sallow family’s tragic fate by asking if anyone else found it oddly…familiar? I’ll admit that re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows right before becoming invested in Hogwarts Legacy made uncovering the “strange likenesses” between the Sallow family and the Dumbledore family considerably easier.

The fate of the Sallows is reminiscent of the Dumbledores’ in more ways than I can articulate — from the untimely deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Sallow, and Percival and Kendra Dumbledore, to the tensions between the new and reluctant patres familias, Solomon and Albus, and their resentful charges, Sebastian and Aberforth, and the tragic killing of their family members.

Let’s start with the history of the families, whose first common element is their short-lived wholeness. Albus, Aberforth and Ariana became orphaned in the aftermath of two tragic events — first, their father’s imprisonment and later death in Azkaban, due to his assault on the Muggles who had tortured his daughter, and, second, the killing of their mother during one of Ariana’s fits of uncontrollable magic.

According to Ominis, Mr. and Mrs. Sallow too had untimely deaths, caused by an undetectable toxin emitted by their faulty cellar lamp. At that time, Sebastian and Anne “had no magic yet." We suspect that means the children were younger than 11 years old, the age when signs of magical ability should already manifest.

Another common element is the reluctant take-over of the two new patres familias, Albus and Uncle Solomon, after the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Dumbledore, and Mr. and Mrs. Sallow. Fans of the books will remember the reason why Albus was reluctant to assume his new role in the first place — the long-awaited Grand Tour. Albus and his close friend, Elphias Doge, were planning on going on a Grand Tour after their graduation, but the sudden death of his mother right before he was meant to leave forced Albus to stay behind and provide for his siblings. In Chapter 35, King’s Cross, Albus claims that he loved his family, but upon his return to Godric’s Hollow, he felt “trapped and wasted.”

Aberforth recalled that moment, too:

“So that put paid to Albus's trip round the world with little Doge. The pair of 'em came home for my mother's funeral and then Doge went off on his own, and Albus settled down as head of the family. Ha!” (P. 435, Chapter 28, The Missing Mirror, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

We are not sure where Uncle Solomon’s reluctance to care for his nephew and niece comes from, aside from the obvious disruption of his quiet retirement, but while his anger at this unexpected responsibility is justified and should be directed towards his late brother, it backfires on Sebastian instead:

“I know what's best for Anne – and Sebastian. They are my stubborn brother's children. Especially Sebastian.”

Sebastian himself comments that his uncle often compares him to his father:

“After Anne was hurt, he only grew worse. It's as though he blames me somehow. Always calling me 'my father's son.' As if that's an insult.”

Here’s where the interesting switch happens. The new guardians’ resentment at these unexpected burdens does not go unnoticed. Both Aberforth and Sebastian saw the new patres familias’ reluctance to assume their new role and thought that they would have been a better fit for it. Much like Aberforth and Ariana, Sebastian and Anne were infinitely closer to each other than to the rest of their family:

“Anne won’t survive this. She’s withering away - inside and out. Solomon’s never been there for us. Not really. He gave up on Anne. I’ll never give up on her."

Aberforth echoed this sentiment:

"He didn't want to be bothered with her. She liked me best. I could get her to eat when she wouldn't do it for my mother, I could calm her down, when she was in one of her rages, and when she was quiet, she used to help me feed the goats.” (P. 434, Chapter 28, The Missing Mirror, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) "I'd have looked after her, I told him so, I didn't care about school, I'd have stayed home and done it." (P. 435, Chapter 28, The Missing Mirror, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

The way I see it, both Albus / Sebastian and Aberforth / Solomon thought that they had Ariana’s / Anne’s best interest at heart. While Solomon thought that making Anne “comfortable” was the best path of action, Sebastian saw this as resigning themselves to Anne’s sure death. “There is no cure! When will you accept that?” asks Uncle Solomon, to which Sebastian replies adamantly, “Never! I can never accept it.” The same stubborn conviction is exhibited by Aberforth after he uncovers Albus and Gellert’s plans.

"I told him, you'd better give it up now. You can't move her, she's in no fit state, you can't take her with you, wherever it is you're planning to go, when you're making your clever speeches, trying to whip yourselves up a following. He didn't like that.” (P. 435, Chapter 28, The Missing Mirror, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) “You may mean well, but I know what's best for Anne – and Sebastian. They are my stubborn brother's children. Especially Sebastian.”

The pairs’ irreconcilable differences did not stop there. In Sebastian’s efforts to heal Anne and Albus’ efforts to create a better world for wizard kind, the pair aspired to leave no depth of magic unplumbed, dark or otherwise, an issue which often sparked conflict with their family. Aberforth did not agree with teenage Albus’ plans “for the greater good”, because he did not prioritize their sister’s safety.

Sebastian’s own stance on using Dark magic to save his sister is in perfect antithesis with his uncle’s aversion to the Dark Arts. Unfortunately, in both cases, the tensions between the brothers and nephew and uncle culminated in the death of their family:

“And then . . . you know what happened. Reality returned in the form of my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable brother. I did not want to hear the truths he shouted at me. I did not want to hear that I could not set forth and seek Hallows with a fragile and unstable sister in tow. (…) The argument became a fight. Grindelwald lost control. That which I had always sensed in him, though I pretended not to, now sprang into terrible being. And Ariana . . . after all my mother’s care and caution . . . lay dead upon the floor.” (P. 549, Chapter 35, King’s Cross, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

Sounds awfully familiar to the scene in the catacomb, doesn’t it? Not only did uncle and nephew turn their wands against each other, but Anne had to bury their uncle alone, much like Albus had to bury Ariana alone after Gellert fled Godric’s Hollow. After Solomon and Ariana’s deaths, all that the Dumbledore and Sallow siblings had were each other. Unfortunately, the death of their family did not inspire a renewed sense of closeness. On the contrary, Solomon and Ariana’s deaths caused an irreparable rift between the siblings.

“To add to his misery, the loss of Ariana had led, not to a renewed closeness between Albus and Aberforth, but to an estrangement.” (P. 20, Chapter 2, In Memorandum, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

The breakdown of the Sallow twins’ relationship is reflected in Anne’s letter to Sebastian:

“Sebastian, Too much has happened. I needed to get away from here for a while. I miss Uncle Solomon. I need time. I will always love you, but I don't know if I can ever forgive you. Anne”

What do you think?

#i know i’m nitpicking #but this is the only kind of mental maths that i’ve excelled at since 8th grade #i love the twins i love them so much #please let me know what you think!#sebastian sallow #anne sallow #solomon sallow #albus dumbledore #ariana dumbledore #aberforth dumbledore #harry potter and the deathly hallows #hogwarts legacy #my entries

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mjrtaurus · 2 months ago

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Imagine with me.

Roger going off to visit the Monkey D family all the way back in the East Blue. He’d been dying to go see them again, it’s been literally forever!Urpi was usually at home sure but even his times of crossing blades with Garp seemed shorter and less frequent! What gives! Whoever dared to think he should be left alone to his own devices was very, very wrong!

He snuck around Dawn Island's jungle in his perfect disguise (a long cloak that “made him look like the manifestation of drugs” according to Rayleigh). He had never actually been told exactly where they live but he knew them well enough to know they’d want something quaint and out of the way.

Of course, he wasn’t only here to see his favourite couple, he was also here for the mother of all do-overs with Dragon! As a baby he’d hated the pirate but he was a baby no more! So he couldn’t be the kid's godfather, he’d be a damn good Uncle Roger to both him and his siblings he’s heard so much about! He even made sure to bring gifts like any good guest should!

Finally, the trees parted and the rocky terrain gave way to a clear path that opening into a clearing. Neat rows of vegetables and flowers bloomed together, an old stump for chopping wood, the pen full of cooing den den mushis, a beautiful farmhouse with 5 paint handprints on the side.

Yup. This was definitely the place.

In the middle of the clearing sat a young boy conversing with a snow white snail. Roger grinned upon seeing his wings. Little Dragon (though he supposed he was a little bigger now) which meant it was offically do-over time! Roger stomped right up without hesitation, the boy too engrossed in his conversation to notice until a shadow blanketed him completely.

“Chirp chirp~~”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing either Miss Snail! I like your face how it is!”

“Chirp chirp~!!”

“Haha, me..too-?!” Dragon jumped as the hooded figure loomed over him, red hot fear passing through his body. All he could make out was a devil-like grin. The disembodied mouth spoke to him.

“Heya there kid. You remember me?”

Dragon's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, nary a sound escaped. Hmm, he clearly takes after his mother, maybe he’s more the silent type too? No matter, Roger was great at filling the silence.

“It’s alright if ya don’t. You were just a baby after all.”

Dragon's little eyes widened, he must be starting to remember! Before Roger could continue, he sensed two small presences getting closer and his grin doubled! This is great, he could give all the littles their gifts at once!

And into view came a little orange haired girl and a small sleepy looking boy, both carrying farming equipment. The king threw his arms out.

“And you two must be Dadan and Kuzan! I’ve heard lots of things about you two.”

Their collective looks of shock melting into horrid went unnoticed by Roger as they approached. Dadan made it a point to step close to Dragon.

“Hey, weirdo. Who are you and how do you know our names?”

Roger chuckled, this must be some sort of good uncle test, well he could pass that easy!

“Like I said little lady, I’ve heard lots of things about all three of you. As for who I am…”

Roger paused dramatically before throwing down his cloak and letting himself be known. He proudly put his hands on his hips (power poses were very important for first time meetings) and watched as recognition clicked in the young-ins minds.

Kuzan cooly raised a hand and pointed.

“You’re..Gol D Roger.”

“That I am Sonny! Now that we've gotten introductions out of the way lemme get a good look at ya, cause lemme tell ya that cloak was heavy as f-…” he paused for a minute. “..heavy.”

Roger crouched down and began loudly exclaiming his every thought. He made a joke about Kuzan's sleepy and asked if he had just rolled out of bed, he cooed over Dadan's fiery cuteness and couldn’t help but comment on Dragon's stolen facial features.

“…I mean, you just took your mamma's whole face! It’s uncanny! Speaking of your mamma, I need to talk to her. Is she around?”

The three kids seem to reboot at that sentence, even Dragon's continued silence seemed disturbed.

“What do you want with Mamay?”

“Oh I’ve just got something to give her, something she’s had coming a long time.” Too long in Roger's opinion, he hated not being able to gift her things and found what he hoped to be another Shandian piece to give to its rightful owner. “Got something to give you kids too, and your Pa as well.”

The next moment came as a blur. After it gets explained him later their actions make sense but currently Roger had no idea why he had gotten clubbed in the crotch with a shovel. Repeatedly. That girl of theirs has not only had a good arm but deadly accurate aim.

He tried to get up only find he was..frozen to the ground? He felt the spiked metal of a gardening hoe began to hit his back as well.

And little Dragon was absolutely balling his little eyes out. Everytime Roger tried to ask what’s wrong or calm him down the cries doubled! As if to emphasize his sadness, clouds rolled in on what should be a perfectly sunny day.

And out through the bushes to add to the chaos came Garp, hauling a mountain of a boar on his shoulder, his happy call of return cut short as Dragon practically flew into his arms.

Garp caught his son, watched his other son and daughter beating the stuffing out of the king of the pirates, made directly eye contact with Roger…

And preceded to fall to his knees laughing.

It took another couple of minutes until the situation calmed down as Urpi returned from the marketplace but by then the damage was already done, none of the kids even wanted to look at Roger and no amount of gifts or explanations was going to change that.

Where was a good corner for sulking when you needed it?

If they wanted nothing to do with them right now, that’s fine! Maybe when they’re a tad bit older and a little less jumpy, he’ll be able to give a proper introduction!

Except… things got a little more dangerous with time and he couldn’t really visit like he wanted.

So he called them! He sent letters and gifts! Soon enough he was hearing happy chirps of “Uncle Roger” at the other end of the line! It was wonderful!

Hell, he teased Dragon and Kuzan up and down for enlisting, and praised Dadan for following her little criminal heart from day one.

He loved those kids.

He loved that family.

Garp was on the platform with him in Loguetown, as he’d asked him to be. Death didn’t feel as dull when there was a friend to make it memorable.

He hears that Urpi is at home with Dadan, both inconsolable. Kuzan has been deployed elsewhere, likely struggling to keep his avoidance in check. And Dragon…

Well, he can see the rain clouds building past the city skyline. He can see a man in that sea of faces, cloaked in green. He wonders if Garp sees him, too.

He hopes the boy didn’t grow out of his crybaby ways. The world was long overdue for that empathy…

He hopes Dadan can forgive him for being another adult that was in and out of her life.

He hopes Kuzan can forgive him for causing him and the marines so much trouble.

He hopes Urpi can forgive him for making her husband come up here with him.

He hopes Garp can forgive him for how he’s about to turn this world upside down.

Oh hell, who’s he kidding… Garp will by roaring with laughter over it for years to come!

#sorry this got sad 🙃#one piece #gol d roger #monkey d family #taurus answers

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infoglitch · 3 months ago

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(not even been a day and already updating this, god damn)

Ok so.. I've been playing P5R and quite frankly... I am not about to have an idea for an entire Persona 6 Imagine project... So I'mma just shove this on all of you. Because I'm a fucking nerd and I crave non-existent validation.

Persona 6 Imagine: S(wordsmen) (or P6S because fuck you)

Synopsis: This idea for persona 6 is set to the theme of the tarot arcana Justice. Set in the fictional city of Winchester U.S.A. we see the protagonist, a foreign exchange student from Japan travel to America to attend saint grail academy. He will come to meet people who have been wronged by the American pursuit of “justice”. Some are students, some are adults, some are those who fought for the American country themselves. Through these people the protagonist will grow and fight against the figure who is pulling the strings, the manifestation of corrupted justice, Duke Agares.

The main group a.k.a “the noble knights”

Protagonist (default name: Male - Kishi Jūjigun, Female - Seijin Kandaisa)

Tarot: the fool

Sex: male/female (depends on player choice)

Age: 16

Class: (Japanese) second year (American) Junior

Melee Weapon: A montante great sword called before awakening their first persona “Calibur”

Long ranged weapon: six-shooter revolver.

Background: the player character is the child of a lawyer, and after the protagonist was falsely accused of assault, their father managed to convince the court to instead have the player transfer to America and “rehabilitate” under the care of the players uncle Ryunosuke Soshima

Social link aka “table member”: none, due to the protagonist having no social link with themself. However there is an automatic confidant found while progressing through the story as the player forms “the noble knights”.

Persona: Calibur - an ornate red and gold sword with the cross guard taking the shape of a crown.

Persona ability preferences: Calibur has a strong preference for melee attacks such as “heat wave” and “vorpal blade”, However they also possess bless and fire skills such as “kouga” and “Maragion”. As well as the occasional healing skill such as “dia”

Persona trait: Will of the king - the cost of using any Melee skills for all party members is reduced by 50%.

Persona background: the protagonists will made manifest, born from the deep seeded anger of the oppression the protagonist sees in the world of both Japan and America. Calibur, while appearing as only a sword, guides the protagonist and acts as a way of striking back against both shadows and corruption. Whenever it does speak, it speaks with reverence and patience, acting as a sword should, precise.

Samson lionheart

Tarot: the strength

Sex: male

Age: 17

Class: (American) Senior

Melee weapon: Golden and red gauntlets

Long ranged weapon: a sawed off shot-gun

Background: A young man who was wrongly prosecuted for assaulting an officer. He managed to avoid imprisonment but only by pleading he was not in his right mind at the time. Now many of his classmates and even some of his instructors are extremely untrusting of him. Samson is at the start extremely untrusting of others, even the protagonist at the start, however there is one person he shows concern for. His English teacher Mrs. Madonna.

Social link aka “table member”: “hand of justice” - throughout this social link the protagonist and Samson traverse the city helping the unfortunate until it ends with them having to confront a corrupt investigator trying to arrest and prosecute a homeless woman.

Persona: Hercules - A colossal figure draped in the pelt of a lion as his fist are bandaged and bloody, Hercules despite the many scars that mar his body bounces between his feet as he has a smug grin.

Persona ability preferences: Hercules has the highest attack value and the second highest magic stat. Hercules uses a combination of fire abilities such as “Agilao” as well as powerful melee skills such as “god hand” and “death bound”, however surprisingly he also holds skills such as “Concentrate” and “charge”

Persona trait: Roar of wrath - all melee skills and attacks deals extra damage based of the difference between the one attacking and the target, no matter which one is higher or lower.

Persona Background: Samsons second self, embodied by a man of wrath and heroics, Hercules is both the anger Samson feels when facing injustice but also his will to aid the innocent.

Maribelle Madonna

Tarot: The empress

Sex: female

Age: 28

Class: N/A (high school English teacher)

Melee weapon: Chainsaw

Long ranged weapon: pump action shotgun.

Background: Maribelle always wanted to help the youth grow in the world, so she picked up teaching. However her ex-husband has been hounding her for child support after their divorce. She wishes she could see her children but the system had decided her unfit to care for her children, and that her husband will have full custody. This sets up the first “Castle” as Samson, once learning of her situation, plans to storm The castle of her ex-husband and change his cognition. Eventually Maribelle will join the group in their fight against injustice when she awakens to her persona.

Social link aka “table member”: “kindness of justice” after her husband's castle falls, the protagonist helps Maribelle navigate dealing with her own children and how estranged they really are from her. Eventually culminating in Maribelle getting her children to open up and trust her.

Persona: Carmilla - a woman in regal black and red attire, dressed as an aristocrat with bat wings of blood draped over her shoulders. Her long white hair flowing through the air.

Persona ability preferences: carmilla focuses on a combination of drain and ice skills such as “life drain” and “mabufudyne” and even more interestingly, healing skills such as “Salvation”

Persona trait: Vampiric blight - all healing skills used deal 50% of the users hp as ice damage to opponents with a high chance of inflicting freeze.

Persona background: carmilla represents Maribelle's refusal to bow to corruption, but also surprisingly, her maternal care for others, as carmilla is easily enraged depending on if the enemy is manipulative or abusive.

Lizzy

Tarot: the moon

Sex: N/A (identifies as female but has no gender due to being a shadow)

Age: ??

Class: N/A (being a shadow given cognition and taking the shape of a gecko she has no human form and cannot attend school)

Melee weapon: twin hatchets

Long ranged weapon: crossbow

Background: Lizzy was born from the collective unconscious also known as the “the dungeon”. Lizzy while knowing she is not human, she desperately wants to be, she believes she has to become human if she wants to ever be cared for. She masks her want for care behind a facade of intelligence which deeply infuriates Samson. However there is something in Lizzy she can not ever hide no matter how much she tries, a hatred for cruelty and a seething fury for the “monarchs” of the castles that form from the twisted justice of others. Which causes her to finally awaken her persona.

Social link aka “table member”: “heart of justice” this automatic social link has the player growing a deeper bond with Lizzy as the two form a sense of unified duty, to destroy the corrupt and save the innocent throughout the story. Which culminates in her and the protagonist's persona merging when she dies. (NOT ROMANCE-ABLE)

Persona: Joan of Arc - a woman with flowing blonde hair and wearing a suit of arm engraved with a cross at the chest as well as the armor being stained in blood and soot.

Persona ability preferences: Joan specializes in bless and melee damage such as “makouga” and “megaton raid”, as well as some fire damage with “Agilao” though this is extremely rare due to her weakness to fire.

Persona trait: heart of a saint - all bless skills have their cost halved and heal the user by 20% of the lost amount of health.

Persona background: Lizzy's will to fight injustice made manifest, Joan embodies the humanity Lizzy so desperately craves. And in that humanity as Lizzy fades Joan and Calibur will merge to become Arthur.

Maxwell Uriel

Tarot: the emperor

Sex: male

Age: 62

Class: N/A (u.s army veteran)

Melee weapon: throwing knife

Long ranged weapon: sniper rifle.

Background: a veteran who fought in a world war, he fought hard for his country but despite that he was still arrested and jailed for theft without being given a proper defense or even given a lawyer. Maxwell is a good man but his faith in his country has been shattered by the corrupted nature of the justice system, as the person who claimed he stole from tries to take everything he has and leave him with nothing.. and Maxwell is ANGRY. Angered at the people he swore to protect, angered at the country he pledged his allegiance to.. but his faith may be renewed through the actions and joining of “the noble knights”.

Social link aka “table member”: “badge of Justice” in this confidant the player and Maxwell wind up helping one of Maxwell's old war buddies to come to terms with the horrors he saw.. in which winds up also helping Maxwell get a little closer to peace of mind from his trauma. (NOT ROMANCE-ABLE)

Persona: Wukong - a monkey wearing a golden crown, wielding a massive metal pillar with the word “REVOLUTION” inscribed. As he rides a storm cloud.

Persona ability preferences: Wukong is a trickster and uses skills like “debilitate” but also has a pentint to use wind and lightning skills such as “thunder reign” and “Magarudyne”. As well as having a unique skill “Monkeys rage” which puts Wukong in a rage state and gives Maxwell priority on using magic skills.

Persona trait: “king of monkeys and storms” - all wind and lightning skills have a 50% of dealing double damage and inflicting confusion on an enemy. And a 99% chance if Wukong is enraged.

Persona background: Wukong is a sentient persona, a rare thing. He is Maxwell's fury made flesh but he doesn't appear angry, instead he takes joy in making his opponents run about like idiots, however do not mistake him for jovial, for Wukong is extremely wrathful.

Maria Ogo

Tarot: the high priestess.

Sex: female

Age: 16

Class: (American) Junior

Melee weapon: spear

Long ranged weapon: gatling gun

Background: the daughter of African immigrants while her family entered legally her father and mother were arrested when she was 9 under false charges of entering the country illegally. Maria survived off the kindness of a few people in her neighborhood as most held prejudice towards her, however the most Impactful person she had in her life was Officer William. One of the few cops who truly wanted to help people, he took in the young girl and essentially adopted her. However there is still a part of Maria who wants justice for what the corrupt did to her family. Starting with commissioner Judas.

Social link aka “table member”: “anger of justice” in the first five automatic ranks of this confidant the player and Maria find evidence that can be used against commissioner Judas, which leads to the third castle, the remaining five are optional and have the player help Maria reinvent herself after getting justice against commissioner Judas as she's left feeling hollow. As it ends in Maria saying goodbye to officer William as he helps them bring back her real family into America.

Persona: Oyá - a woman clad in storm clouds and wearing a red and purple skirt, with her ivory hair flowing as if being tossed by the wind.

Persona ability preference: Oyá uses wind, lightning and instant-kill skills such as “mamudoon”, “garudyne” and “zionga” as well as a few long ranged physical attacks such as “one-shot kill”.

Persona trait: “goddess of the souls” - all instant-kill skills have a 25% boost to the accuracy. And if they fail they instead deal medium lightning damage and inflict paralysis.

Persona background: Oyá is Marias will for retribution given divine flesh as she rips through oppressors who dare stand in her way. However outside of her brutality Oyá has a gentleness towards the dead.

Naoto Jamison

Tarot: the hermit

Sex: male

Age: 19

Class: (American) college sophomore

Long ranged weapon: 8 ammo mag Pistol

Melee weapon: Dagger

Background: the “detective prince” of America born of a Japanese mother and an American father Naoto is the most promising young detective, he's currently looking into the rumored false prosecution of a young man who was charged with arson. That being Naoto’s half brother, Marcus. Naoto is not a fighter, he prefers research over brute force. But he joins the noble knights after he is forced to stop the search by his commanding officer, director Samuel. Leading to the second castle, as well as his role as both the navigator and as the assassin of the noble knights.

Social link aka “table member”: “Eye of justice” Naoto has a peculiar confidant with the protagonist as it covers Naoto asking the protagonist to accompany him on breaks from cases he is taking every now and then, with some even having them going to a dinner Naoto's father runs. As Naoto technically doesn't have a lesson to learn but more of just is lonely. Wishing to have someone who understands him even if they don't have the same intellect.

Persona: Carnacki - a figure wearing a trenchcoat of fog as he is surrounded by different images being projected by magnifying glasses.

Persona ability preference: carnacki as a persona has no real physical offense, so he is never used though the few skills he does are all extremely useful, his first skill being “inspect” which allows him to deduce two of the weaknesses of a current enemy. This is automatic. As well as single long ranged physical skill being his own personal “occult shell” which deals light long ranged physical damage but leaves the enemy confused.

Persona trait: “ghost finder” - when an enemy Is killed there is a 75% chance that all of its weaknesses are noted after battle. However, otherwise there is a 100% chance that 5 of an enemy's weakness are discovered and noted during battle.

Persona background: Naoto's intelligence and desire to bring about the just truth made manifest, as Carnacki can appear in many ways with its most common being it's magnifying glasses which let Naoto see things others may not.

#persona 6 Imagine idea #persona 6 #im praying im tagging this right #glitch has an idea for a persona story #persona 6 idea #persona 6 Swordsmen #persona #persona series

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lordinb1ack · 5 months ago

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Willow is currently sitting on her bed listening to music, while doing homework while humming to herself. Her parents were out of the house so she was already happy plus she still had some food left.

Her mood was amplified when she saw a green glow out of the corner of her eye and a figure that she knew all too well manifested in front of her.

"Dad!" She said happily as she got up and hugged him.

@w1ll0wl0ck3

Wiggog was beyond bored in the Black and White at the moment, and he did not want to deal with his brothers. So what better way than to visit his favorite human? Do not tell Uncle Wiley.

He appeared, arms crossed, as he looked over, instantly getting tackled into a hug. He still wasn't used to this sort of thing, but he pulled his arms away and patted her back.

"Well, it's good to see you too."

#starkid wiggly #wiggly #wiggog y'wrath #lord in black #lords in black #starkid #nerdy prudes must die #black and white #wiggog asks #team starkid

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primordialruin · 6 months ago

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If over the next period I'm either super chatty, or super quiet (more than usual) it'll be due to high stress and anxiety.

My parents are unfortunately battling cancer. Dad's in remission and we're anxiously waiting to see if that continues to be the case soon. Mom's probably gonna start chemo next week or the week after. Lost a dear uncle (dad's brother) to cancer last year before my dad discovered he had it too and I nearly lost him to it. It was found that this is hereditary on both sides, so I can only hope my genes stay put and this stress doesn't start anything in me. I'll be doing the needed checkups on myself so fingers crossed everything is alright with me.

I don't know how I'll react in the foreseeable future. I'm sorry if I'll be either annoying with headcanons or radio silent. I might not read the room right because the stress manifests as brain fog and hyperfixations as a means to escape my reality. I'm genuinely just trying to figure out how to cope and be a positive influence for my family but it's not easy to keep it together. I get faint spells, terrible heart palpitations and my judgement feels quite impaired because I'm in constant survival mode. I feel very sick to my stomach and constantly on the verge of crying. Frankly, I'm feeling more like a kid than a nearly 30 year old adult by the day.

I am suffering.

Hug your loved ones. Make sure you show them that you appreciate them through your words and actions. And maybe keep my family and I in your kind thoughts and prayers if you believe that helps. ❤️

#ooc : the mortal #irl tw #vent tw #cancer tw #negative tw #medical tw

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natlacentral · 1 year ago

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DALLAS LIU THRIVES UNDER PRESSURE

Few franchises have captured the imaginations of a generation as wholly as Nickelodeon's iconic Avatar: The Last Airbender, which ran for three seasons during the mid-2000s. Fewer still have demonstrated the series' ability to cross generational divides and maintain a lasting impact on the cultural psyche while continuing to enthrall successive generations as a touchstone of youth-oriented animation. Often regarded as one of the greatest narratives in television history, the show has spawned a massive and dedicated fanbase whose ethical boundaries have been imprinted by the mature yet sensitively portrayed moral quandaries presented therein. The world of Avatar draws upon Asian and Indigenous spiritual practices and traditional martial arts to construct an alternate reality where four nations, each attuned to one of the four elements (water, earth, fire, air), are home to different “bending” abilities—portions of their respective populations are connected to and able to control the element of their nation. The Avatar, capable of bending all four elements and serving as the human manifestation of spiritual light and peace, is tasked with maintaining balance between the nations and the spirit world as well as nurturing prosperity and peace. In its massive scope, the show touches upon a slew of issues including diplomacy, genocide, social responsibility, cultural conflict, ecology, and parental abuse—heavy material for a kids' show.

Given the entertainment industry’s recent streak of adaptations and reboots, it is no wonder that Netflix tuned in to the incredible demand for more Avatar. With the last attempt at live-action adaptation remembered as an unequivocal disappointment—the M. Night Shyamalan-directed 2010 film whiffed on its whitewashed casting and soulless direction—devoted fans followed the casting and production of the new miniseries closely in hopes for a vision truer to form. In the months leading up to the show’s release, conversation picked up immensely. The official trailer racked up over ten million views on YouTube and nearly two hundred thousand shares on Instagram alone, leaving the internet abuzz.

Avatar: The Last Airbender notably features an ensemble of characters who span across generations and the live-action casting follows suit (Gordon Cormier, portraying lead protagonist Aang, is only fourteen). Until now, Dallas Liu—who portrays the banished Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation—had been used to being one of the youngest on any project. His first role was in the 2009 martial arts film Tekken, released when he was only eight years old, and until now he was best known as Shuji, the older brother of Maya Erskine's seventh-grader in Pen15. “Most of the time when I'm going on set, I'm the most inexperienced person. I take the role of a student and try to pick everyone's brain and take in as much knowledge and wisdom as possible,” Liu points out. Now twenty-two years old, he found himself asking while filming Avatar, “‘How can I also be a leader [to the younger actors]?’ [I was] trying to mentor them to become professionals and how to handle themselves on set. I feel lucky enough for them to have let me into their hearts and allow me to take this role of an older sibling they can rely on.”

Although older than many of his fellow leads, Liu also had the opportunity to draw upon decades of experience through multiple seasoned actors in the ensemble, particularly scene partners Daniel Dae Kim (Zuko's father Ozai), Ken Leung (antagonist Commander Zhao) and Paul Sun-Hyung Lee (Zuko's uncle Iroh). While filming, Liu found the older cast members to not only be sources of wisdom but also grounded peers. “Those guys had set the bar for me in terms of what kind of person I wanted to be on set,” he recalls. “It wasn't like people [had to look] up to them. [They] all created an interesting environment where everyone was equal. That's the way it should always be. I think the way people felt valued by them was something I really wanted. I want to be like that, that's a real leader.”

When the show's cast was announced, many viewers were particularly interested in Liu's selection as fan favorite Zuko, an embattled and exiled warrior prince hunting down the titular Avatar in hopes of reconciling with his cold-hearted, world-conquering father, the authoritarian imperialist monarch Fire Lord Ozai. Zuko's character development drives much of the plot of the story, tracing a redemption arc parallel to his coming-of-age in a high-pressure, war-torn environment. Liu's portrayal is pivotal in bringing the story to the franchise's new format and charting a course from brutal angst to principled compassion. The conjunction of the show's immense hype and Zuko's plot-driving character arc resulted in a unique strain of pressure for Liu, himself an avid follower of the original series, in assuming the role.

“The first thing that I ever remember seeing of The Last Airbender was Zuko training on his boat with Iroh. I fell in love with the show,” Liu recalls. “It was one of the reasons I ended up taking part in martial arts,” which he practiced competitively throughout his childhood and led to his acting career after he was referred to audition for Tekken by one of his instructors.

As he considered the scope of responsibility in portraying Zuko and how to apply his own idiosyncrasies to the character, Liu turned to Dante Basco, the original voice actor. Basco, aware Liu had been inspired by the initial show in his youth, encouraged his younger counterpart to embrace the differences between live-action and cartoon animation. “Dante had certainly set a high bar. Instead of trying to match him, try to surpass it, [we] talked about it,” Liu recalls. “He said, ‘What you're going to do is different. By all means, you have your own experience of Zuko from your childhood as well.’”

Liu's precise training and familiarity with action and combat have played a key role in his acting career, as he has joined franchises such as Tekken, Mortal Kombat, and Marvel's Cinematic Universe in Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings. Elemental bending is a central component of the world of Avatar, requiring the actors to study several different fighting styles. “They had us learn every single bending style to really differentiate,” Liu says. “We had an understanding so that on the day, they could make a certain shot work and we had to come up with something on our own.” The collaborative nature of the stunt work allowed Liu ample opportunity to impart his expertise to the other cast members. “We were in this boot camp,” he adds. “Helping the kids out, I was having a blast—just hanging out and kicking it because that stuff is like second nature to me.”

That blending of acting and martial arts in Avatar required Liu to reflect on the mortal nature of some of the circumstances in which Zuko finds himself. “You're going to do whatever it takes to come out of that situation,” he notes of some particularly perilous moments that he believes are more impactful in the live version. “I incorporated that into the fight scenes. Even the stunt team was willing to let me have some creative input.” At one point near the end of the season, for example, Commander Zhao tricks Zuko into boarding a boat rigged with explosives, causing Iroh and the rest of their naval forces to believe him dead. In the finale, their conflict comes to a head in a battle to the death; as Zuko is rocked by a revelation from Zhao, the commander goes for the kill. “In the animation, people forget,” Liu adds. “This is a life or death situation!”

If you ask Liu, he and Zuko share a proclivity for absorption in their endeavors. “It's almost two-and-a-half years since we started shooting the show. I've definitely grown more as a person, and when I was growing as a person, that also developed my acting,” the actor notes. “I was like, ‘I'm going to come into work, I'm going to stay focused.’ It wasn't because I didn't like anyone, it was because I was scared of getting distracted. I understood the responsibility and the pressure that came with doing this.”

Avatar: The Last Airbender is now streaming on Netflix.

#natla #atla #netflix avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar netflix #netflix atla #atla netflix #dallas liu #photoshoot #interview #cero magazine

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bluecatwriter · 1 year ago

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Blood of My Blood: Permission

@animate-mush and @ibrithir-was-here, I finally finished drafting the scene! XD

As Quincey Harker first begins to fall in love with Lu Holmwood, he realizes that he should ask for her father's permission to court her. That should be an easy conversation, right?

CW: Descriptions of emotional abuse, mention of smoking

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Arthur stood at a window in the second story, looking down at his only daughter, his most precious child, strolling and laughing on the lawn below with a vampire.

Evening light bathed them both, making Lu's curls look like they were pure gold, and giving the boy's pallid skin enough color that he would have almost looked human— were it not for the glowing red of his eyes, so bright that Arthur could see it even from up here. Lu said something and the vampire laughed.

Arthur's hands clenched the windowsill as he leaned his forehead against the glass, feeling the roiling in his stomach that hadn't quite subsided since the creature had shown up in his office several days ago. Why he had even let Lu meet the boy in the first place was beyond him. He should have made some excuse— oh no, Lu, there's an undead creature running loose in Scotland, you and Uncle Jack had better go take care of it!— and sent her away. He should have kept her safe. That was his duty as her father.

Of course, it wouldn't have worked. Lu was smart, and Arthur was not a good liar.

But Arthur had failed to prevent their meeting, and now Lu was completely smitten. What's worse, it was easy to see why. The boy was sweet and engaging, an attentive listener, fascinated by the beauty of the world. He quoted romantic poetry with the same enthusiasm that other boys might discuss sports teams. And whatever he was, he was not a vampire like they had fought before. Arthur had tried five different crucifixes on him, as if one could be defective somehow, and forced him to chew garlic while Arthur stared at him as if daring him to collapse into dust on the spot. One of their sources had brought Arthur some holy water, and when he dabbed it in the shape of a cross on the boy's forehead, the vampire had stood there obediently and then asked if something was supposed to happen.

Lu suddenly looked up, and saw Arthur spying on them (no, not spying, he just happened to catch a glimpse and had to check on what they were doing, just in case the vampire was, for instance, trying to rip her throat out). Her eyes twinkled as she smiled up at him, the rebellious little grin on her face quite familiar to him now. He remembered how timid she was when he first met her, how she shrank into herself as if wishing she could disappear. Now she laughed loudly and grinned fiercely and made it clear that she was going to do whatever she willed, regardless of what "the dad" had to say about it. And that was what Arthur wanted, really— for her to be bold and confident and sure of herself— but why oh why did it have to manifest this way?

She waved and blew him a kiss. Arthur blew her a kiss in return, and managed to even smile, but his smile only held until the vampire turned his head and looked up at him too.

Their eyes locked, red to blue, and Arthur felt protectiveness rising in him like a flood. If he was a good father, he would march that boy into his office and tell him in no uncertain terms to stay away from his daughter. If you so much as think about touching her, I will stake you right through your unbeating heart, do you understand?!

The boy tipped his hat, bowing his head with that eerie courteousness that he had shown ever since he'd arrived. He looked a lot like his father— or, as he often clarified, his papa— just then.

What was worse, Quincey being a vampire, or him being raised by the man who had tried to murder everyone Arthur loved?

Arthur stepped away from the window, found that standing was suddenly too much work, and leaned back against the wall instead, slowly sliding down it until he hit the ground. He put his head in his hands and began to sob.

He didn't cry long before he heard a soft rap on the doorframe, and he struggled to lift his head to see Jack standing there. Jack gave him a sympathetic smile, then crossed the room and held out his hand, helping Arthur up into a chair. Arthur wanted to bury his face in his hands and keep sobbing, but he could tell that Jack wanted to talk, so he just looked at Jack through tears.

Jack stroked his hand soothingly through Arthur's hair a few times before withdrawing it to sign, "Lu?"

Arthur choked out a small sound, and jerked his head toward the window. The sounds of Lu and the boy laughing came through the glass. "Jack, am I doing the right thing?"

Jack sighed, his smile turning wry. "You know Lu. She will do what she wants regardless, so we might as well go along with it."

Arthur groaned, leaning into Jack's touch as he petted his hair again. They'd had a similar conversation three years earlier, when Lu had started hanging about with a disgusting boy who treated her like a supporting character for his own ego. Arthur had wanted to throw him out onto the street on his head, but Jack had counseled that Arthur keep his disgust to himself. Forbidden love is very romantic, Jack had said, and Lu is a romantic at heart. She gets that from me, he'd added with a little smile. Arthur had gritted his teeth for four months, until one day Lu showed up unexpectedly in his room, her mascara running, and told him that she'd dumped her boyfriend. Arthur had never been so relieved in his life.

"I'm supposed to keep our daughter safe," Arthur said, his voice choking a little. "How do I know… how can I be sure…"

"You can't," Jack signed, his movements short and sharp. "We must trust what we know: that the holy objects don't burn him, that he has never drunk blood from an unwilling subject, and that his goodness seems entirely unfeigned."

Arthur gulped. "I don't know how I can handle this."

Jack kissed his forehead. "One step at a time," he said when he pulled away. Then he straightened, and Arthur could see him switching into Doctor Mode. "Now, young man, I am going to take your blood pressure."

He strode out of the room and returned with his sphygmomanometer, which he set up on the table. Arthur tried to calm his breathing as Jack placed the cuff around his arm and puffed it up, then frowned at the rising mercury on the device.

After a moment, Jack sighed, setting down the pump in his hand to sign, "It's a wonder your blood vessels haven't exploded."

Arthur groaned and leaned back in his chair as Jack deflated the cuff.

"Maybe you should smoke more, to calm your nerves."

"I would turn into a chimney."

Jack huffed a laugh, and when Arthur tried to follow suit, he ended up crying again. Jack wrapped both arms around him and held him as Arthur shook silently, while the sounds of his daughter and the vampire laughing still drifting through the window.

* * *

Lu had complained about having to attend a boring party tonight with a friend, but Quincey was actually glad for it, because it gave him an opportunity to do what he'd suddenly realized he must do as soon as possible.

He'd gotten careless, and lovestruck. (Lovestruck, what a beautiful word! He had imagined so many times what it must be like to be struck by love, but the reality was even better than he expected.) He'd gotten carried away, lost in the glow of Lu's presence— the sparkle of her eyes, the sharp wit of her words, the unabashed confidence in the way she moved through the world. He had been pining like a lover in one of those ballads he loved to read. And he had forgotten the most important step of all, the one that all other steps depended on.

Lord Godalming's scowl from the window this evening had thrown the necessity of this step into sharp focus. He must approach Godalming tonight and hope to set all in order.

After Lu had left for her party, the servants directed him to Godalming's office, and Quincey stood at the door for a long time, rehearsing his speech in his head, before knocking. He heard Godalming's "Come," and opened the door, stepping inside with his most respectful yet friendly face on, to see Godalming at his desk.

Godalming's face always changed when Quincey entered the room: a tightening of his whole expression, as if it had suddenly become an effort to hold his skin in place. In the corner, Dr. Seward looked up from reading something. It was easier to decipher his expressions: he stared with singleminded focus and curiosity, much like Mum did, rather than Godalming's fidgeting and pacing and avoiding eye contact. But Godalming was the one Quincey must address, and so he only spoke to him.

"Lord Godalming," he said, proud of the even measure of his voice. "I ask your permission to come in and speak."

Godalming cleared his throat, shuffled the papers in his hands. "Yes, of course," he said, though his tone was unconvincing. Still, Quincey must take a chance.

"Thank you, lord." He crossed the room quickly and stood before Godalming's desk, his head bowed as if under the weight of an invisible hand. Before he could lose his nerve, he launched into the speech he had prepared. "Lord Arthur Godalming, I thank you a thousand times for your kindness in taking me under your roof, and for the hospitality that you have shown to me in my time here. I know that all in this household are under your authority, and all here belong first and foremost to you."

Quincey couldn't quite tell what kind of expression Godalming was making— he shifted in his seat, that tightness in his face grew more pronounced, and he glanced over at Dr. Seward. But he didn't tell Quincey to stop, so Quincey plowed on.

"I know you are a benevolent lord, for you allow all those of your household to pursue their lives in bliss and harmony. With this in mind, I humbly beg you to hear my request."

Here he paused, looking for any sign of what Godalming might be thinking. He seemed uncomfortable, perhaps— it was hard to tell— but he was not scowling, snarling, or getting that cold look that Father got right before breaking something. So far, so good. After a moment Godalming said, with bluster in his voice, "Out with it, then."

Quincey breathed a little sigh of relief to have explicit permission to continue, but worked to keep his voice formal. "Thank you for the opportunity to make my request. Lord Arthur Godalming, I ask that I may pursue and court your most treasured and beloved property, Lucille Holmwood."

"What?!" Godalming sputtered, and leaped to his feet. Suddenly, his expression was as easy to read as a book: outrage, and surprise.

Quincey resisted the urge to take a step back. He was surprised, too— he thought it was obvious that they were interested in each other. What part of this wasn't Godalming understanding?

"Don't ever call my daughter 'property' again!" Godalming roared, slamming his hands on the desk.

Now he did startle backward, blinking in confusion. Out of everything in his statement, how could Godalming possibly be angry at that? His mind scrambled to interpret the situation, wondering what unspoken rule he had trespassed.

"She is a person," Godalming continued, "not some trinket that I own— and certainly not a thing for you to own, either!"

"I would never dare!" Quincey burst out, affronted at the very thought, before remembering himself and dropping his head in deference. He had to show that he was obedient, that he would listen to the lecture and the learn the Lesson embedded in it.

Quincey had learned long ago that he had no desire to be like Father— he had no desire to rule, to overpower, to possess. But he had often, so often, dreamed of being like Papa. He had hoped to find a man or woman that he could adore and care for, someone he could protect. Owning another person was never something he had considered, even though he knew that Father would be disappointed in his lack of ambition.

He realized that he'd just been staring blankly at Godalming, who was clearly waiting for him to respond, and he scrambled to find the words that would avoid the worst kind of punishment. Bowing his head further, he clasped his hands in front of him. "I did not mean to cause offense, lord, but of course that is no excuse," he said, all in a rush. "I will welcome any punishment you see fit."

He didn't know what kinds of punishments Godalming was likely to give. The dread of not knowing made his stomach twist, but if he could endure it, perhaps Godalming would consider him worthy.

"I'm not going to punish you," Godalming said, speaking with disbelief, as if it was a ridiculous idea. (He must be trying to put Quincey off his guard so that he wouldn't expect the punishment when it came; Quincey made a mental note to stay alert so that it wouldn't catch him by surprise.)

"Thank you, lord," Quincey said simply. He kept his head down, watching furtively as Godalming and Dr. Seward signed quickly back and forth to each other, Godalming frowning and Seward looking concerned. Lu had taught Quincey a few signs, but not nearly enough to have any idea what they were saying.

Godalming suddenly turned to face him, and Quincey straightened instinctively, though he still kept his head bowed. When Godalming spoke, his teeth were gritted, but he appeared to be trying to control himself. He seemed to value self-control, just like Mum did. "Jack has suggested that perhaps I've misunderstood you. Explain, then—" The sharp edge on his voice flared, then subsided. "—why you referred to my daughter as 'property.'"

Quincey spoke carefully, knowing that speaking the wrong word could be the difference between getting his request and getting severely punished. "Lucille belongs to you, is it not so?"

"Not in the way an object belongs to me," Godalming said, starting to pace. He turned on his heel, pointing an accusing finger at him. "And if you think to treat her like your property—"

Quincey flinched as if he'd been slapped. To be accused not once, but twice, of trying to commit treason in this way made him feel horribly hurt, but he couldn't just blurt that out. He struggled to say, "My lord, please let me speak."

"Speak!" Godalming burst out, waving a hand at him. "You don't need my permission, just speak!"

Quincey fought down the tears that threatened to spill over his eyes, stumbling over his words. "Thank you, lord. I… I had no thought of making her my property. I meant that… I was asking if I could become your property, sir."

Godalming stopped pacing stared at him as if he'd said the most unintelligible string of words ever spoken. Quincey stood there, unsure whether to keep talking, and then Godalming sharply turned to Dr. Seward, and they signed back and forth with puzzled scowls on their faces. Quincey waited anxiously, wondering if they were discussing his punishment. He hoped that he wouldn't cry when they put him through it. He hadn't cried during a punishment in a long time.

"Yes, I know, Jack!" Godalming said unexpected, then grabbed a paperweight that sat on his desk, fidgeting with it as he spoke. It looked fairly heavy; it would hurt if he chose to hit Quincey with it. Father considered corporal punishment to be uncivilized, but a different lord might have a different rule. "Just tell me," Godalming said to him, and again it was clear he was putting a lot of effort into sounding calm, "do you consider yourself to be anyone's property now?"

Quincey could have wept with relief to get a question that made sense— but now that it was posed to him, he had to pause. He had been ready to blurt out that yes, of course, he belonged to Father, and only to Father, as everyone in the household did, but…

Papa's last words to him were imprinted on his mind. He hadn't really understood them, standing at the castle doors that day that seemed so long ago now, but the reality of it was beginning to sink in. Remember, you don’t belong to him. Or, or to us. Just to yourself.

"I don't," he said, and he felt a terrifying emptiness at the declaration. He cleared his throat and tried to explain. "When I lived in Castle Dracula, I was Father's property, along with Papa, and Mum, and everything in the house. But Papa has sent me out now and says that I belong only to myself." Now that he said it out loud, it seemed stranger and stranger. But of course Papa would never go against what Father wanted. Papa had always taught him to do what was right, and obeying Father was right. Father must have changed his mind, and wanted him to own himself.

Godalming's expression remained steady, so Quincey decided to go on. "My heart's desire is to find another household where I may be owned and show my love and loyalty, just like Papa did. This is my deepest wish, that I have held since before I even knew that such a thing were possible." He shut his mouth, squeezing his hands together.

The past few days, he had been thinking about the possibility of asking Lu to kiss him. He had never been kissed by anyone before, except the bloodless kisses that Mum and Papa gave him. Perhaps she would not like the taste of of his blood, but he could offer, anyway, and maybe she would like to try. He imagined her lips open against his arm— or even perhaps his throat!— and wondered what it would like to feel his skin give way under her teeth, to feel his blood leaving his body to nourish that one he loved. The thought of it was so exciting that it made him feel a weakness in his legs, a fluttering in his stomach.

"Quincey!"

Quincey didn't realize he'd been daydreaming, and he snapped back to attention, again speaking in a rush. "I apologize for letting my mind wander, lord, I will accept any punishment you see fit."

"I'm not going to— for Christ's sake—" Godalming looked helplessly at Dr. Seward, as if he could explain this, while Quincey stood there still feeling confused. "Good grief, child, what kind of a life have you had?"

This was probably a test, but Quincey didn't know how to pass it. "A happy one," he said simply. "I come from a loving family."

"Why are you so afraid of punishment, if your family was so loving?" He spat the word like it was poison.

"Punishment is love," Quincey said, a note of frustration entering his voice. He felt a wave of anger at Godalming for insulting Father, for disrespecting the name of the family. "Father punished me to teach me how to be strong and right."

Godalming's eyes blazed again; Quincey wondered why it seemed to make him so angry. "So he never hurt you?" Godalming asked.

"Never," Quincey said, putting emphasis on the word, "except when it was for my good."

Godalming raised an eyebrow. "And when it was 'for your good'? What did he do then?"

"Whatever best suited the disobedience." Quincey spoke without emotion, trying to tamp down the annoyance he felt at this clearly bad-faith questioning of his Father's parenting skills. What did Godalming care?

"For instance?" Godalming pressed, his eyes narrowing.

Again, Quincey decided this must be a test. He focused on speaking as plainly and completely as possible. "If I paid too much attention to my books and not enough to him, he would make me tear up the books and feed the pages into the fire. Or if I forgot my place, he would come into my room and destroy my things."

Godalming's expression was changing from demanding to horrified. "What kinds of things?"

He had a sudden, sharp memory of a stuffed toy rabbit that Papa had brought him when he was a small child. He could still feel the soft cotton against his cheek, see the button eyes and the embroidered smile. He'd named it Hoppy.

"Things I liked. Especially things that Papa bought me in town. For instance, once I owned a toy rabbit. But then I questioned a decision that Father made, and so he took my rabbit and—" His voice caught; there was something about saying this out loud, when he had never spoken of it before, that made him suddenly feel like he was going to cry. "—and tore it to pieces."

He still remembered the sound of the fabric ripping, the way that Father had held Hoppy just out of Quincey's reach and methodically shredded the toy until only fibers and buttons were left, Quincey screaming and begging him to stop all the while. Afterward, Quincey had wept and gathered up the shreds and brought them to Papa. Sometimes Papa could fix the things Father broke, but this was not one of those times.

Papa had held him tightly and let him cry, and afterward they had had a burial service for Hoppy, at sunrise after Quincey should have been in bed.

He felt tears in his eyes and a knot in his throat, and in his attempt to hide both, he lashed out. "But the punishments worked! I learned to never question the wisdom of those better than me, and to obey instructions, and to be respectful in all circumstances. Besides, none of the things he destroyed were mine. They were all his. Everything in the whole land was his. Sometimes I just forgot. But I do not forget anymore. I would never ask to possess anything for myself. If you allow me to be part of your household, I will never forget that all belongs to you."

There was a long silence.

"Jesus Christ," Godalming said, and slumped into his chair.

Quincey wasn't sure why Godalming was invoking the name of the man on the crucifix he now wore, but it was not the time to be asking questions. He stood there, waiting for him to speak again.

Godalming groaned, dragging a hand across his face. "Quincey, I— I don't know what to say."

Once again, a feeling of relief came over Quincey. He knew this kind of roundabout speaking, and knew what the proper response was. Without hesitation, he dropped to his hands and knees, pressing his face against the carpet.

"Lord Godalming, I throw myself upon your mercy, as a wretch, a worm, begging to be your property and yours alone, to sit at your table and eat your scraps—"

"What the hell are you doing?" Godalming yelled. "Get up!"

Quincey sat up quickly, still on his knees, staring at Godalming's horrified expression over the desk. "I… I thought you wanted me… to beg?" Father had always liked begging.

"God, no! Quincey, please, please just pull up a chair and sit down and listen."

That he could do. Quincey quickly pulled up a chair and sat, hands in his lap. Godalming stood up and began to pace again, still fidgeting with the paperweight. He seemed to be grasping for words to say, and it was only after signing back and forth with Dr. Seward for a few moments that he spoke.

"Quincey, you say that you belong to yourself. Well, Lu belongs to herself, too. No one in this household is my property. Do you understand? Everyone here belongs to himself."

Quincey didn't see how that could possibly work, but there was nothing to do but take Godalming at his word and hope this was not a test. "I understand, lord."

Godalming paused, and looked at Quincey with a cross between pain and exasperation. "Quincey, you're a vampire. Lu is a human. You are a danger to her, as far as I'm concerned. I don't want you to court her."

Quincey felt the words sink into him like ice, and the urge to throw himself facedown on the carpet again made his fingers twitch.

"But," Godalming said, and paused. In that pause, it seemed that he aged ten years before Quincey's eyes. "But," he said again, and now his voice was husky, "I do not have the say in this. As I said, Lu belongs to herself, not to me. If you want to court Lu, and she wants to court you, then I… I won't stop you."

Quincey stared at him. This was impossible; he must have heard wrong. "You do not wish to exercise your right of ownership?" he asked hesitantly.

Godalming looked unspeakably weary. "Lu can make her own decisions— and you'd damn well better abide by whatever she decides."

"Yes, lord, of course," Quincey said quickly, still wondering if this was some sort of illusion that he would wake up from.

"But make no mistake: if it comes to it, I will protect my daughter above all else. Do you understand?"

Quincey resisted the urge to smile in relief. Here it was, a straightforward threat, something that he was used to working with. He tempered his wave of excitement, and stood solemnly, bowing. "I understand, lord. I swear to you, I will give you no reason for displeasure."

Godalming looked somehow even greyer than before as he leaned wearily on one hand. "I sincerely doubt that," he said, but it was a halfhearted mutter.

There was a long pause.

"All right, now go." Godalming waved his hand in dismissal.

Whatever he might say, Quincey knew that permission to approach Lu as equals was still a privilege that Godalming had bestowed on him, and Quincey must acknowledge the gift. He reached across the desk and took Godalming's hand with both of his. Godalming startled, but Quincey was committed to the gesture now: he bowed his head over his hand and pressed a bloodless kiss to it, the way that Papa would do with Father when thanking him or placating him. He felt Godalming shudder under his touch.

He still suspected that this whole scenario was some sort of test, and that Godalming would punish him for it, but at least he could be on his guard now— and at least he could invoke Godalming's words against him if he tried to change his mind. Papa had taught him that it was important to remember exactly a person's words, so that you could use them in the future if you needed.

"Thank you, lord," Quincey said, looking earnestly into Godalming's face. One of his eyes was twitching, and Quincey could hear his heartbeat loudly. "I will treasure this kindness." Then he raced out of the room before Godalming could change his mind.

Arthur groaned and sank back in his chair, feeling a shiver go through his whole body. He could feel Jack's eyes on him, see the soft, bittersweet smile out of the corner of his eye. Jack raised his hand to speak.

"Don't," Arthur snapped. "Don't say a single word, Jack Seward."

Jack stood instead and walked to his side, planting a kiss on his head. "I'm proud of you, just the same," he signed, before using his hand to feel along Arthur's neck for his pulse. He pulled back and shook his head disapprovingly. "Blood pressure, young man, blood pressure."

"I said not a single word."

"I'll get you a cigarette."

"Jack!" Arthur grabbed his arm, and felt suddenly that Jack was the only real thing in this upside-down world where he had just allowed a vampire to start courting his daughter.

Jack paused, then settled himself onto Arthur's lap, linking his arms around him. In this position he couldn't speak, but he breathed long, slow breaths, his way of reminding Arthur to breathe, too. Arthur shuddered through several shaky breaths before he was able to slow enough to match Jack's pace.

The unknown loomed before them, like a great blackness in his mind. He couldn't protect their daughter forever. Lu would make her own decision, and then… well, then there was nothing to do but wait and see.

~~~

#my writing #blood of my blood #dracula fanfiction #quincey harker #arthur holmwood #jack seward

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