#she inherited her parents’ hatred for every living thing

[cadaver-moss]

Julia is probably my favorite of Enojadita’s children. That’s why I dumped all my insecurities into her :D

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

"Just ONE more episode," she said. "And then I'll go study!"

You know, like a liar. Who lies.

🙄

***

I wonder if the older brother is doing anything, though. He seems so... clueless every time.

Like, what would he get out of it? He's the legal heir as it is, plus he is unlikely to live long. He has no reason to undermine Gu Tingye unless it's from some misguided hatred that they filled his head with about Madam Bai being responsible for his own mother's death.

***

So it's not a setup, he did say it, somebody just tattled.

***

TWELVE?? HE SAID THAT WHEN HE WAS TWELVE??

SO, THE SHIT EMPEROR WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO RUIN HIS LIFE BECAUSE OF SOME HEARSAY THAT CANNOT EVEN BE PROVEN, WHICH WAS ALLEGEDLY SAID WHEN HE WAS TWELVE????????????????????

***

We are all asking the same thing 🙄

***

There is no benefit, it's just that your family is insane.

***

Ah. So she is about to start her scheming sooner than expected.

***

This is honestly a good plan.

What is stopping him from just... leaving? He inherited the salt mine or whatever that merchant business is from his grandfather. He can live a comfortable life with Nanny, his illegitimate wife and cute little kids. Who is going to stop him??

***

Can they seriously just arrest him for wanting to move away from home?

LET 👏 KIDS 👏 GO 👏 NO 👏 CONTACT 👏 WITH 👏 TOXIC 👏 PARENTS

Hell world.

***

Just watch her stupid ass go and tattle.

She doesn't want to live a quiet life in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. She wants to be a marchioness.

***

Oh, Nanny 😢

Those poor kids.

***

OMFG SHE DID COME TO TATTLE TO EVIL DAD 🤯

This is going to explode in her face so spectacularly, I cannot even.

***

Is she seriously this stupid?

Nothing but worms for brains.

***

OH MY GOD

This is who men end up having kids with when they think with their dicks instead of their heads 🤯🤯

[belit0]

i'm curious, do you have any romantic headcanon (or something cute or idk) of Indra? 👀👀

IN FACT, YES, I can talk about this man all day long, I never run out of ideas for him 😭💕I love to picture Indra as a father, it warms my heart.

I usually paint Indra as the worst villain and a terrible person in my works, but I also like to fantasize about a beautiful, human, real side of him🤗❣️

Here's a little bit of that, romanticism and cute stuff, Indra being a nice father and a good husband💫🙏

- Unexpected, but the best father of all Uchiha men. He grew up so lonely and abandoned by his parental figures that no matter how consumed he is by the curse of hatred, he has a special place in his heart for his children (and he has a lot of them, yes). People would think he is absent with his children, but he is in fact the mama bird of the relationship.

- His best way of showing trust is by allowing her to touch his hair. He has an intrinsic affectionate relationship with his mane, it is impossible for him to cut it or reduce its size because it has accompanied him during all his odysseys, it is his sign of power. Allowing (Y/N) to comb it, or make a braid, a ponytail, is because he genuinely trusts her.

- Special affection for animals. Who initiates the family cat tradition, and is personally in charge of feeding all the living beings he allows to inhabit his house. He has only one dog to symbolize the companion he lost as a child, but about eight cats mixed between nature and his home.

- He is the one who teaches his children how to take care of their hair. Having inherited his father's imposing hair, Indra himself is in charge of telling them how to wash it, comb it, and what styles to use for comfort and practicality.

- Every night and when the children are already asleep, he likes to sit on the engawa of his house facing the garden, and ask (Y/N) to sit between his legs resting her back against his chest. Staying in that position, for a good few minutes, brings him peace.

- Never having been able to express in words how he feels about her, he chooses to show her firsthand. He gives her a beautiful graphic explanation of everything he feels for her through his eyes, using his Sharingan to give concept and form to the beautiful things only she can make him experience.

- He is not a person of many words, but every time he comes across her at home during the day, he kisses the crown of her head, resting his cheek against her hair after a few seconds and closing his eyes, breathing in her perfume and recharging his energy.

- He only says I love you when he thinks (Y/N) is asleep. Indra finds it insanely hard to accept he is only human, that he feels, and hates it when people acknowledge him as such. Only when he thinks she cannot hear him is he can put into words what he feels, and (Y/N) always waits to hear him by pretending to sleep.

- His love language is giving gifts. Without affinity for the verbal part of the relationship, he decides to show how he feels with expensive things, clothes, jewelry, make-up, you name it. Sometimes, if he is in a good mood, he leaves a note with a heart drawn next to his gift, but he hopes (Y/N) won't comment on it.

- He is happy seeing her happy. After achieving his main goal and the reason his life functioned, he found that taking care of his wife's fulfillment gave him the same satisfaction as trying to destroy his brother. He focused 100% on her, and no matter how many children were in between, (Y/N) never ceased to be his priority.

- With their first born and in his first months of life he loved to have him sleep between the two of them. Indra would put him to bed between mom and dad, enveloping him in the presence of his parents and wanting him close at all times. He loves his babies sleeping on his chest too, good winter naps laying on daddy.

- He loves flowers, madly appreciates their beauty, and loves to gather a small sprig from the garden to leave on (Y/N)'s bedside table for her to see when she wakes up. Again, he hopes she doesn't thank him or comment on them, but simply sees them and thinks of him. He always makes sure to interchange types and colors so as never to repeat the same pattern of flower arrangement. With the arrival of his children, he has assistants assembling the perfect bouquet for mom.

- The best at singing lullabies. He doesn't remember where he got them from, but he knows so many bedtime songs there is no doubt who is in charge of putting the little ones to rest. His voice becomes extremely soft when it comes to them, and they fall asleep in a matter of minutes with daddy's voice.

- With his first child, he didn't sleep the first three nights of the baby's life, worried that something would happen to him while he was resting or that someone would steal him. He stood guard all night and took care of all the child's cries, Sharingan always active just in case any threat was near. Ultimately, after giving in to a full afternoon nap, he chooses to tuck him into bed with them both.

- He does not like (Y/N) to work or exert herself, always surrounding her with his best servants to ensure she has everything she needs and lacks nothing. If she refuses to receive assistance like royalty, he himself will do the chores so his wife won't lift a finger.

- He loves to cook. He refuses to have a personal chef, almost always taking care of all the day's dishes. On the nights they spend with (Y/N) for their dates, he is usually the one in charge of dinner, and if she wants him to not have to do anything, they go out to eat at some fine food stand.

- He loves all of his children, but his favorite is his little girl. The last of all to arrive is the one who steals his heart completely, his princess. He kills and hurts for anyone in his family, but this little girl has him in a chokehold. He fulfills her every whim without complaint.

- He always seeks intimacy with (Y/N), be it a small moment of the day or a night dedicated to themselves. Loves and needs her emotionally as well as physically, and always prioritizes adult time with no children around. He takes it upon himself to get a babysitter so he can shower his wife with quality time and good sex.

- He doesn't really know how to be romantic, but he tries by preparing special dinners with (Y/N's) favorite dishes and asking her how her day was after a tiring one. His love language consists of gestures and gifts, and he tries to make them present so that his wife never doubts his love.

- (Y/N) caught him several times telling the children about their uncle Ashura, what a good man he was, and the honorable way he fell in battle. He never mentions their fight or his family's conflict, and she assumes it is to preserve a favorable image of their uncle. Perhaps after his death, Indra made peace with his brother.

[wearepaladin]

If you do end up writing that scene about your RT, please share it with us!

Orphic Hymn 64 to Nomos (trans. Taylor) (Greek hymns C3rd B.C. to 2nd A.D.) : "Hymn to Nomos (Law). The holy king of gods and men I call, heavenly Nomos, the righteous seal of all: the seal which stamps whatever the earth contains, and all concealed within the liquid plains: stable, and starry, of harmonious frame, preserving laws eternally the same. Thy all-composing power in heaven appears, connects its frame, and props the starry spheres; and unjust envy shakes with dreadful sound, tossed by thy arm in giddy whirls around. 'Tis thine the life of mortals to defend, and crown existence with a blessed end; for thy command alone, of all that lives, order and rule to every dwelling goes. Ever observant of the upright mind, and of just actions the companion kind. Foe to the lawless, with avenging ire, their steps involving in destruction dire. Come, blest, abundant power, whom all reverse, by all desired, with favouring mind draw near; give me through life on thee to fix my sight, and never forsake the equal paths of right."

It always begins and ends with numbers. In a material universe, there are laws written unto the foundation of everything, from the most ancient stars to the machinery of atoms, the edicts that dictate the fundament are written eternal. In this place absent of meaning, walls of metal and the hollow men who loomed over the lost and the damned, did Thane Solcar fortify her mind with numbers, the digits providing rhythm, the equations lyrics, and solutions a chorus.

Estimated population of the Imperium between (10 to the 15th power) and (10 to the 24th power).

Thane Solcar had been someone small as opposed to negligible value in the Imperium of Man. The younger daughter of a minor nobility, an off shoot of some distant ancestor of greater significance whose wayward progeny had used their inheritance to separate from the greater dynasty to find their own way as a merchant noble making their travails among the stars. Not content to settle into a sedentary life upon anyone one location in the Empire of Humanity, they had been wayfarers upon the void. And her parents had ensured she'd never lacked the respect in the machine spirits and their codices on the proper maintenance and direction, and she had taken well to it, learning keenly and adapting what could be safely learned for one technically not part of the Followers of the Omnissiah, but like any of the voidborn, their ship was the world, the galaxy distant compared to the great emptiness that fills it. And the reliance upon the Light that allowed one to navigate it.

Tithe requires 1,000-4,000 subjects daily. In a single year, 365,000 to 1,460,000 are brought to Holy Terra. They are brought...

The Astronomican, the Light that spanned across the Imperium, allowing The Imperium to exist, was known to any Voidborn who bothered to use their ears. The need to have it and the Navis Nobiliti, who alone could used that Light as a point of reference across the infinite. Thane knew the Navis were psyker mutants, and thus not trusted by many of the ground walkers, but the necessity of them, both in the immediate wellbeing of her family's fortunes and mankind as a whole, went a long way to smothering the hatred that Thane was told she should feel for such beings. What use was hate for something that you needed to live? This thought process proved beneficial, a passive acceptance of the need of psykers. It helped when she learned that she herself was one.

...before the Astronomican, and aid in its care, under the gaze of His Divine Majesty. This has been the case for the last 10,000 years. Therefore...

It began innocently enough. Thane thought she heard choruses outside the hull and tried to imitate them, trying to find harmony, and Things began listen to and object to the harmony. The discordance (Chaos) overtook so much, and only the harmonies that sought brought a notion of defense even as ice began to freeze her surroundings. The Caretakers of the Black Ships thus found her, lost in the harmonies and the numbers she mumbled like a shield, even as everything else was lost. ...those brought to the Astronomican in the history of the Imperium thus number between 3 to 8 billion depending on the consistency of those provided by the Black Ships. But....where do they go, the numbers of people, they need somewhere to go...where are...

Thus it had been for the days of the journey on Black Ship, the vessels whose purpose was to find and transport the Tithe, the psykers the Imperium could provide. That the Imperium needed. She could not trust her newfound senses, but Thane had been using the far more trusted sense of her ears, and listened to what little the guardians on the ship had said. She knew they were going to the homeworld of mankind, to serve The God Emperor in some way related to the Astronomican. Unknown to her, two women observed her briefly as they studied Thane and the other Psyker prisoners. They spoke with their hands, having long ago made an oath of silence. (This one?) (Too weak willed. Mumbling throughout the journey, insane due to what happened to her kinsmen aboard the ship we found her. She will serve the God-Emperor by providing him the kindling He needs) And with that, her fate decided, they walked by, moving on to determine fate of the next imprisoned, and Thane Solcar was sentenced by the servants of The Emperor. And that should have been the end of it. -----

The Golden Throne is often invoked by the denizens of the Imperium of man, nearly as synonymous as their empire and the god they are devoted to as the emblem of the Aquila, the icon of their empire. But the Throne itself is often less depicted beyond a simple chair that the iconography of the Emperor at rest. In truth, it is more than that. Housed in the holy mountain that had once been known as Everest as a sign of human pride or Chomolungma for those who'd been born under her shadow and thus knew her as Mother of the world, the Mountain had been hollowed long ago, and it was here and among the sister mountains that the Imperial Palace resided, respledent with a majesty that silenced the past natural beauty in favor of the crafted golden glory of the relatively recent Imperium of Man. It was here, that Thane Solcar was brought, her newfound senses blinding her to any notion of Imperial Opulence, as the Light of the Astronomican burned so brightly, making even the sun seem a distant comparison to the Light that crowned this world. And beneath that crown sat Him, The Emperor. She could not see Him, hidden away in a labyrinth of gold, iron, and stone, but as she was laid out among the rows upon rows of other Tithed, she could feel Him, like a crystaline spike that all reality seemed to twist through. One by one, then multitude by multitude, she watched as the Tithed became part of that light, their souls as bright as myriad stars, were taken, absorbed, added ot the conflagration that was Him. Death, she realized. Death was what awaited those sacrficed before Him on Earth. With comprehension did not rouse panic, not yet, but as she hummed her harmonies, her soul beginning to be dragged into the cosmic bonfire that was Soul of the Master of Mankind, she dared something that some would consider blasphemy as her soul made contact with the Emperor.

Why?

The Light overtook her, and Annihilation or Consumption did not claim her. Instead she Saw, her single question answered in the form of a galaxy long burning. Thane Solcar saw the galaxy burning over a period of fifteen thousand years and humanity and xenos alike lost to that conflagration. Once great nations and dreams forever lost, be it to Man's own Folly, the machinations of dark powers from within and without reality, or the simple cruelties of fate. She saw the Emperor's dream of uniting mankind after the Long Night, a belief in the destiny of her species, their species, for He spoke to her now in a way that rendered others to embers, a fire she was now, and yet still herself.

She saw the events leading to the Great Crusade, the Crusade itself and the endless wars that followed, of Heresy, of Conquest, of Glory and Purpose. She saw why He had decided the neccessity of it all, paid in blood and lives uncountable.

And yet she counted. It pained her to, counting not only the psykers given to bonfire that was the Astronomican, but those lost to war and pogrom, genocide, betrayal, and hatred. So much hatred. She saw the nations that had been rebuilding before the Emperor had forced Compliance, and how many could have built back the lost empires and federation of humanity, not as a single beast with a emperor deified, either in faith or reason, but the lost cultures and hopes of peoples across countless worlds. She counted them all, considered them all, and this, more than anything, became a new flame that burned bright in her chest, the lost harmonies finding a home within Thane Solcar.

Thane looked at the Emperor, what remained of the man upon a dying throne. And named him Demiurge, master of much but not all, wise but flawed, alive but dead. More hollow god then broken man. She left the mythology he'd created with the Imperium as its spiritual demesne, and took her own faith with her, seeking Nomos elsewhere. Thus she was found, strange and heretical notions buried deep, alone alive among thousands given in blood and spiritual sacrifice, the mark of the Aquila branded in gold upon her brow. The sanctity of the Emperor, it was decided, and all the better for it. A Rogue trader house, distant ancestor of the Solcars, had been seeking this one errant psyker. Perhaps there she could be made to serve the Emperor and all His great works.

[terendelev]

TAMSIN LOREPOSTING (as I promised... it is long btw)

-Tamsin was born in 1466 DR in Neverwinter to an Elven Noble family. She was the bastard daughter of the patriarch of the family; Aerin Morren. He took her out of obligation and acknowledged her as his daughter.

-In truth, she was not his own daughter and her real father was his twin brother Eldrin who vanished after giving the baby to him and making Aerin promise that he would take care of her. However, that caused resentment between him and Tamsin since he always thought she was the reason that his twin brother left his side.

-Speaking of her father; he was the younger twin which meant he wouldn’t inherit anything and it gave him a freedom that his brother never had. Eldrin wandered around the Sword Coast; one side of him yearning for power. During his travels, he met with a Drow Shadow Sorcerer who offered him to making a pact with the Raven Queen. With his help he became his Hexblade Warlock and the price was the conception of Tamsin.

-Her mother neither loves nor hates Tamsin. She is just an experiment in her eyes –someone made for the purpose of collecting memories and bring them to her once she died- and the Raven Queen is watching her from afar refusing to help her or ask anything from her.

-Back to Aerin, his wife wasn’t happy due to the situation even though he assured her that Tamsin wouldn’t inherit anything and his wealth would go to their sons. But she felt slighted by her existence and never hesitated to show it. While Aerin didn’t harbor any hatred for his ‘daughter’, he also didn’t interfere his wife’s cruelties.

-From an outside view she was taken care of; she had the best clothes and a decent education. But her stepmother made her life a living hell; every misstep had a consequence she would beat her for mundane things like eating too much, laughing too loud or talking in public.

-The only people who ever showed her kindness were his brothers but their affection was more like out of duty and not love. They were often away from home due to dealing with their father’s business to escort caravans and trading ships.

-When she was a teenager Tamsin had a short affair with their neighbor’s son: another Elven nobleboy. He was the first person she fell in love with and while their relationship was sweet it was short-lived. He left her for another Elven noblewoman when his parents arranged a match between them.

-Shortly after Tamsin’s stepmother convinced Aerin to find a suitable husband for her. It was an aging lord and their aim was to get rid of her while benefiting from the situation. When she came to her room to tease, Tamsin’s powers manifested and she killed her stepmother in a gruesome way.

-Aerin wasn’t pleased to find his wife’s corpse but there wasn’t any love between them and now he had a chance to get rid of his ‘daughter’ for good. He could give her to the authorities and nobody would blame him including his absent twin. However, Aerin couldn’t bring himself to do it and instead, he gave her a handful of coins then send Tamsin to Eldrin’s Shadow Sorcerer friend so he would teach her how to control her powers.

-So she found Callimar who is a Lolth-sworn Drow and a former member of the House Syr'thaerl which is annihilated by other houses. He barely escaped to the surface thanks to his powers and made a living by making shady businesses of others while traveling the Sword Coast. Tamsin found him in his home in Secomber and he took her in not out of affection for his friend but because he was obbsessed with the idea of exploring her potential in Shadow Magic.

-With time he developed an obsession due to Tamsin’s parentage and witnessing her creation back then. He taught her how to use Shadow Magic properly and how to play the game from his experiences in Menzoberranzan. –he was proud of her when she surpassed him- Tamsin grabbed everything he taught hungrily and he groomed her into a self-serving individual by using her vulnerabilities.

-Callimar also liked to have power over Tamsin and her being dependant on him. With time they developed a toxic affair between each other.

-After there was nothing left for Callimar to teach her, Tamsin grew restless. Making small works for worthless people made her feel like she was wasting her potential in this town and thought about leaving for good.

-One day she found Callimar’s diary while cleaning his room and learned the truth about her parents which made her want to leave even more. She escaped one night after he fell asleep, taking half of their coin.

-Her destination was Baldur’s Gate considering the long distance between the city and Secomber. In here she started to work in Sorcerous Sundries under Lorroakan for enough money to rent a small room. However her luck turned when the word of her profession spread and one of the power hungry nobles decided to hire her to do his bidding.

-After starting to work for Lord Cardan Asina, her life standards increased greatly. She started to live in his manor and from outside she was his ‘Arcane Advisor’ but her real mission was to work as an infiltrator, collecting information and help his personal assassin completing his tasks –sometimes killing the targets herself-. Her Shadow Magic skills helped Tamsin greatly.

-The more tasks Tamsin completed the more her Lord liked her and started to bring her with balls and soirees in the Upper City. She met with Gortash on a night like this, shortly after he became a Lord.

-I won’t go into detail about their affair but it was short-lived (around three months I believe?) and mostly physical though in the very end there was some kind of sick affection between them. (I will post so many fics about it btw.)

-However her pleasant life among the nobility came to an end when her patron learned about Tamsin’s affair and got rid of her. It was out of pettiness and paranoia; thinking she was working for Gortash and trying to steal his secrets. He took all of her savings and threw her to the street after spreading the lie that she tried to kill him to sully her reputation.

-Shortly after she got kidnapped by the mindflayers <3

[tired-reader-writer]

“When was it?” he wheezes, “When did you start to stray? You're the Shodaime's granddaughter, why would you deny his legacy?”

Glaring eyes search for answers in her storm-grey ones. What does he hope to find? What does he see?

She hopes it's anger. She hopes it's hatred. She hopes it's rage.

Let them choke to death on shame.

“Turn back, woman, before it is too late. Things can still be fixed. Stop this nonsense, Orochimaru must have poisoned your mind.”

Oh, Mother Uzu, he sure loves to talk.

“You're wrong, Jiraiya. The poison was in me,” she says. “Konoha put it there.”

“What are you sayi—”

“To tell the truth, I've always hated this world. The violence it justifies, the falseness it calls peace. That… I was willing to suppress.” She smiles. A sad, bitter little thing. “But I suppose I crossed the line when Konoha stood by and watched as Uzushio fell.”

“Wha—”

“It's funny, isn't it? I was just going to be content as an obedient doll when I came here. I was going to serve—” no matter how miserable it made her, “—I was going to be loyal. If you people had just deigned to honor the alliance, we wouldn't be here.”

“That's bullshit. We did our best. Sensei did his best. You're just using it as an ex—”

“Konoha murdered Uzumaki refugees before they could ever reach there.”

He looks like he'd just been punched in the gut. Or trapped, perhaps. Caught red-handed in a way he would not escape.

“What?”

“It's true. Did you not know? Or are you just playing dumb? There's no way you can't know. You're the Hokage's most trusted protege, a hero in your own right. Sarutobi Hiruzen would not lie to you.”

“Hold on a minute—”

The cold soaks through layers and grips them at their core, heavy enough to make him feel as if he's standing in the flow of a flooding river. Thunderclap pulses in time with her beating heart— cold in a way that has nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with her wrath.

Anger enough to rival the roaring of the skies— Wasn't it supposed to burn?

She's sure it would, if the fox-god's chakra coursed through her.

It's fine, though. He'll give it if need be.

For now, though…

“Did you think,” she says, teeth bared in a caricature of a smile, “that I wouldn't know? That I wouldn't find out? Konoha didn't even bother to do something so simple as accept refugees, and you still expect me to stay?”

“This is a mistake.” His voice wavers. “It had to be Shimura, sensei had nothing to do with that!”

“Oh, but I'm afraid he did.” She steps forward. She wasn't expecting him to stagger back.

“Tell me, Toad Sage, do you think a man known to be a God of Shinobi would be so incompetent as to be completely unaware of what his Council members are doing?”

“Stop it…”

“Kirigakure's invasion deprived me of my friends, my parents... and my students. My children. They were no older than nine, when I left.”

To his credit, the man looks distraught enough at the revelation. “You were an Academy teacher.”

She ignores him. “In the name of glory and conquest, that village... They slaughtered everyone from Uzushio and destroyed my home.”

She looks up at the sky, pale dots peeking out from behind tattered clouds. Cold. It's so cold.

“I hear them every night. The screams and cries of my brethren...

Avenge our deaths...

Tear apart the world that failed us…”

She grabs him by the throat, and yanks.

“They're whispering in my ear right now, even as we speak,” she hisses in his ear, low and venomous.

Heat and pain shoots through her arm, and next thing she knows, he's a few feet in front of her, gasping for breath.

There's a bloody kunai in his hand.

It doesn't matter. She'll heal soon enough.

Has the signal come yet?

“You condemn us, but you're just the same! What of all the children you're taking with you? There's no way they'll be safe outside Konoha's walls!”

“They will inherit a world without bloodshed. Be glad for them. They themselves are the future that I will live and die for.”

“You think this will work? You're leading them to their slaughter. You've never been a hero, Hoshiori. Even in comparison to Tsunade, you've always lagged behind.”

Ooh. Hitting her where it hurts now, is he? Too bad she's gotten good at pushing it aside.

“And that matters because?”

“You're delusional.”

She tilts her head, a gesture so childlike it must look alien on her. “Do you think me a coward for turning away from this?”

“I do,” he spits. “You're a coward and a traitor.”

“A traitor…”

She chuckles, soft and dainty. That's sure to piss him off. “Yes.”

There's the signal behind her— she doesn't need to see it to know. She feels it. Even drenched and battered by rain, she feels it.

“I'll betray.”

~~~

This ficlet is the accompaniment to this one with Orochimaru, I had actually written this a long time ago but chickened out before I could upload it, I feared it was somehow bad, outlandish, too self-indulgent. Try as I might, I still struggle with that sort of stuff.

But now it's here, with @akatsukitrash 's encouragement!

The context is that Uzumaki Hoshiori, Hashirama and Mito's granddaughter imported from Uzushio to become the second jinchuuriki in Kushina's stead, spurred into action when a young Kushina came running to her for comfort after finding out she was to leave for Konoha and none of the adults would tell her anything. Many things happened in the middle, I won't get into it for now, but things snowballed into Hoshiori secretly laying the foundations for a new home outside of Konoha, resolved to put an end to the shinobi system that let such horrors happen to her homeland and students.

Orochimaru was the first to be folded into the project. Tsunade will... come later. Hoshiori is giving Jiraiya a chance, but he's tied his identity and worth so intimately to Konoha that he refuses to entertain any other option.

[hcerin]

kim  minjeong.     she/her.     cis woman.      ›       spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   haerin   “rina”   jung   ,   most   likely   listening   to   the   only   exception   by   paramore   with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty   two   year   old   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   reserved   yet   adaptable   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you'll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   craving   validation   from   friends   and   strangers   alike   ,   the   warmth   on   your   face   from   seeing   the   sunset   on   a   beach   and   lazily   strumming   a   white   oak   guitar   ,   followed   by   daisy   by   marc   jacobs   .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   rina   jung   refusing   to   acknowledge   her   relation   to   one   of   the   wealthiest   families   in   california   (   true   )   ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .

♡     ◞        statistics.

full  name:  haerin “rina” jung.

nickname:  known professionally as rina but close friends still call her haerin.

date  of  birth:  march 8th, 2001 (22 years old).

zodiac  sign:  pisces.

place  of  birth:  san diego, california.

current  location:  new york city, new york.

gender: cis woman, uses she / her pronouns.

sexuality:  bisexual.

languages: english (native), korean (native).

♡     ◞        bits and bops.

character  tropes:  the pastiche, the phoenix.

traits:  adaptable, hard-working, independent, guarded, cynical, insecure.

likes:  summer, colourful flowers, baths with rose petals, beaches, the smell of coffee.

dislikes:   thunderstorms, horror movies, mustard, being late, paparazzi.

♡     ◞        background.

trigger warning/s: estrangement/abandonment from family, mental abuse

being born to be an heiress to a massive business empire worth millions of dollars is not as exemplary as one might think, haerin jung would say. growing up under the strict eyes of her business-oriented parents, it was always made clear that she and her brother were to do one thing and one thing only — to become the heirs of the family’s legacies; a movie production / distribution company, and a hotel chain.

haerin was six years old when her aunt took her, her brother (wc!!!) and her cousins to the beach every weekend. that was the first time haerin had a taste of the music industry, having seen her first live concert on one of those days. when six-year-old haerin was chosen to sing a song during a karaoke session being held at the beach, she became enraptured with the art of performing in front of a crowd. after that, music and singing became such an essential thing to her that she realised that it wasn’t just a hobby — it was something she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

wanting to delve deeper into the world of music, haerin had asked for a guitar as her birthday present. although her mother was hesitant about this, she and her father granted her wish. haerin was given an acoustic white oak guitar on the morning of her seventh birthday, and she began spending every spare moment of her day with it. soon it became apparent that haerin wanted nothing to do with inheriting her family’s company, causing a strain on her relationship with her parents.

haerin knew that her parents would never approve of her dream of becoming a singer, so when she was younger she endured all the underhanded comments and cutting remarks made about what her mother called her “singing hobby”. as she grew older, though, her passion for music became stronger and so did her confidence, and haerin started standing up for herself. arguments turned into full-blown fights, which worsened her relationship with her mother even further. this continued for years as mrs jung criticised and found fault in everything haerin did, to the point where haerin and everyone around them knew that all the hatred and fury pent up inside her would burst.

the dreadful day came when haerin turned seventeen. they were fighting again, both haerin’s and her mother’s tempers heightened like never before. it had all been a blur until her mother screamed words that haerin would never forget. 

“no daughter of mine would ever disappoint me like you have, and as far as i’m concerned, you’re no longer part of my family!”

the words echoed in her head, shattering every shred of hope that her mother had any love for her left in her body. haerin had turned to her brother then — her best friend; the person she could always count on  — but he had kept his mouth shut. that was when she knew she was truly alone. swallowing her tears, haerin packed her things, guitar and all and was forced out the door. haerin got in her car and drove around the city endlessly, eventually ending up on her what would become her roommate’s (wc) house.

she spent the next years building her life back up with the help of her few treasured friends by her side, still determined to not let anyone stop her from becoming a musician. she started a youtube account where she posted song covers and it gained some attention, but she still longed to be singing onstage.

when she was able to get a gig considerably bigger than her previous gigs, this was where she made her breakthrough. an a&r agent at that event scouted her and introduced her to the executives of a record label. at first she was reluctant, but after a conversation with the head of the label, haerin was convinced the label was right for her. at the age of twenty, she signed the contract which stated the the label would manage her career for the next seven years.  

after relocating to new york to be closer to the record label’s headquarters, haerin initially struggled to write songs as she wasn’t sure how she wanted her sound to be, causing her career to be stunted for a while. eventually, she met with someone (wc) and was inspired to write lucid dream, her debut single.

now going by the stage name rina, she has released a few more singles which has propelled her to mainstream fame and she’s currently working on her debut extended play.

♡     ◞        personality   +   headcanons.

as a popstar, she keeps her personal life relatively private, and though it is known to the public that she is related to the family that owns jung properties, she has managed to dodge every question from the paparazzi about it.

she is a heaux for cute floral dresses !! not that she doesn’t want to wear other types of outfits (and she can totally rock them if she wants to) but her fashion sense is just naturally elegant and traditionally girly like that.

huge introvert. she kind of doesn’t know how to communicate with strangers or people in general. this is because she was homeschooled, plus with her lifestyle now it doesn’t allow her to meet a lot of people or make friends, but she’s mostly very courteous.

around people she’s comfortable with, though, she has a witty sense of humour. this also bleeds into how if someone is rude to her or someone she cares about, she will not be afraid to clap back. this is rooted from how she resented her brother for not defending her to her parents, so she’s made it her life mission to firmly fight for what she believes in.

haerin absolutely craves validation. because she couldn’t get it from her parents, she started looking for it elsewhere. having social media as a platform for where people praise her for her music and talents fills her with unending joy. 

she is absolutely oblivious to her own beauty due to the insecurities that stemmed from being abandoned by her family. will blush like crazy if someone compliments her appearance, and there’s no doubt that she will think of the compliment for the rest of the day. 

however, she is quite aware of her capabilities as a vocalist. her vocal talent is one of the few things she is confident in, as it has been something she has been doing since she was just six years old.

lucid dream was a song written about her lost relationship with her brother, but the rest of the world interpreted it as a love song and haerin didn’t bother to correct them.

haerin is still considered a nepo baby i fear because although she wants to be known for her own merit, people are still more interested in her for her connections with the jung family, which is why she’s been getting a lot of opportunities -- and deep down inside, she knows it’s the main cause of her fame. 

♡     ◞        wanted   connections. 

platonic   —   down for anything and everything! best friend, frenemies, friends that used to be close but have drifted apart, etc!

labelmate     —   haerin’s role model. it started out as exchanged glances in the record building’s hallways and shy waves in the cafeteria, but after an encounter in the recording studio, they both hit it off immediately. this person could be the one who inspired haerin to finally start writing after they gave her some advice as a fellow popstar/singer and they’re now good friends.

current/ex roommates    —   the people that she roomed with after being kicked out of the jung mansion, haerin will always be grateful for them for being by her side throughout the course of what would be the worst years of her life. they could also have a pre-existing relationship/friendship before being roommates, such as childhood friends or a possibly relatives.

romantic    —   i love a good bffs to lovers trope, or someone who could bring haerin out of her shell, but honestly i’d love anything. give this girl some love pls.

that’s all i can think of at the moment but dm if you’re interested to fill a connection or just to plot !! <3

♡     ◞        taken   connections.

estranged brother   —   haerin and her brother were as thick as thieves -- until the day their parents threatened to disown her, and he refused to meet her eyes nor stand up for her. when she was thrown out, haerin cut off all contact with him and they haven’t spoken in years. though she won’t admit it, she misses him fiercely and wishes he had been there during moments like when she signed the record deal, or when her youtube video reached one million views for the first time. taken by damon jung! @stereotypcs​ ​

[james5-doe]

Sheila's Big Day

Caught in the middle of a long-running family feud, Sheila is a Princess of Mongo who unexpectedly marries Flash, joins the Defenders, and tries her best to be there for the Gordons and the Royals.

This Is Their Side Story, Chapter 2, "Mongo Is Burning"

This has to work, Sheila thought, watching her brother from the second row. Krotan and Jedda were about to wed. Things would be peaceful on Mongo now.

Ming was gone. The war was 'over.' But stopping her father wasn't good enough. They had to show people that a change was here. Putting Jedda Walker on the throne would help.

She wrapped her hands around Flash's own. He looked tense too as he sat at her side.

Chapter 8, "Forward"

"Flash..." she muttered. "I need you to stay. I think that the baby is about to arrive."

A nurse tensed at that. "I'll get the doctor." She hurried toward the door and ran out of the room.

Flash looked her over in a state of awe. Sheila was about to birth their child. The woman on the bed meant the world to him.

Time to decide what mattered more: his hatred for Ming or his love for her.

Chapter 12, "Defenders of Mongo"

Sheila stood. "I've got an idea," she declared. "And no one disown me for saying so..." She lifted her palms just a little bit. "But I think we have to handle this Gordon style."

Except for Hadea's, everyone's jaw nearly hit the floor.

Sheila squirmed a tad, and made a tense chuckle.

Chapter 18, "Antiheroine"

Dale stepped over and touched his hand. "You've done a great job taking care of our kids. I know that I've said it, but I have to repeat."

He smiled at her.

The front door opened. Sheila walked in, draped in a billowing coat herself. Her gaze fastened onto their touching palms. Then she looked up and locked eyes with Dale, letting her mouth crack open a tad.

Dale stepped away, releasing Flash. She cleared her throat and felt a tingling.

Flash squirmed a little. "Hi!" he said.

Chapter 31, "Dreamers"

Several Years Ago

It was going to be an eventful ball. Her father would announce his decision today. Someone was heading to the Netherworld — someone would be moving to a land on Earth. They would live there for a number of years, wife to a king who'd befriended the court.

Would it be Hadea, or would it be her?

The person who remained would inherit the throne. When Ming stepped down, eventually, Sheila or Hadea would assume his role. They'd have the greatest honor in the galaxy: ruler of Mongo, leader of all. Every noble wanted to claim this spot.

Chapter 32, "Parental Guidance Required"

"Okay..." April uttered. "Thanks for that."

Sheila grinned, holding quiet. She always looked charmed when she smiled at April. April didn't understand why that was. Or maybe she did, and she couldn't admit it.

April stood. "You want to take a swim?"

Sheila's face brightened. "I think I'd love that."

[distant-utopia]

• Log #002: Axel's Backstory - 1

ーーーーー

Well, from where we should start? Maybe I should start from introducing myself.

My name is Axel. I was born as Axel Olbrich, on a certain sunny day in a refreshing spring. Spring is the season of beginning, and so was my birth. My parents expected my birth so much, I was a new beginning to their life. We finally became a small family with my existence.

I am a Therian Wolf. Basically, I am a part of the race that can shapeshift into an animal, and my animal is wolf. We were known as a proud race who loved battles and world conquests, and we used to be the strongest Therian race to ever exist in the past. A lot of other races, Therian and Human alike, eyed us with hatred and jealousy. Well... it was a long gone story now. In the present day, being a Therian Wolf means my race is basically on the lowest rank of discrimination.

When I was younger, my homeland used to segregate our settlements from the others, especially humans. We lived behind the thick, impassable walls made of living trees we call Dusk Forest. I too, was born behind that wall. I did not know how was the world beyond the endless sea of trees. However, it did not matter for me. As long as I had my parents, I did not mind to live my whole life here.

It was my simple and happy days.

As a mean to prevent any unnecessary bloodshed between people who were separated by the living wall, a semi-military force called 'Forest Rangers' was created by the Therian Wolf. My parents were also part of them, and despite their young age they were quite accomplished. The forest was indeed thick and bewildering, but sometimes adults could traverse it with no problem if they need to. It was rare for them to do so, though, and I never saw any human for a good while of my life. It was the reason why Forest Rangers existed.

Well... Maybe, I did see humans before. I just tried so hard to forget that memory.

My mother was Hilda Olbrich, born Hilda Esser. She was one of the elite members of Forest Rangers, and probably the only female there. I called her Mama. Mama was a tall woman, she was almost as tall as Papa. Mama had short and unkempt blonde hair, parted to the right side of her face. Her body was quite muscular. She was very rough, brutish, insanely strong... but she was also gentle and loving, especially to me. I love Mama so much, and she loves me too. I inherited her looks and I am basically her if she is a man, and I suppose that is one of the blessings I feel so grateful of.

But as the famous saying goes... every good thing in this world never lasts forever. Sometimes, they went away too quickly. It also happened to Mama.

It was a certain day when I was three years old. Mama was swamped with paperworks, and she did not want to do it in our house.

"Axel, let's get a walk!" she excitedly invited me. I gladly accepted with a big smile on my face and took her hand. I did not forget to bring my beloved ball along. We hummed a song together, striding along the path leading to the forest. I could smell the fresh air. The clear blue sky with white, thin cotton-like clouds scattered and the green foliage of the forest were above us. I looked up on the sky, as if I wanted to fly. I released Mama's hand and started to run, letting out small giggles. Mama was laughing behind me, and she finally sat under a tree.

"Mama will work here. Don't play too far, okay?" she said. Mama pulled her files of papers and started to read them.

"Okay!" I responded with a big nod. I started to play with my ball, kicking and throwing it around. I did not realize that my ball started to get further and further, until Mama was completely out of sight. I was too busy chasing it so I did not realize. When I came to my sense, I saw some men looming over me. They did not have ears and tail like me or Mama.

"A werewolf!" one of them exclaimed. I looked at their face with curious eyes.

"Hello!" I tried to greet them and gave them a warm smile. They did not look at me with the same feeling, however.

"Tch, what is it? A bait?"

"It's just a kid, he probably can't harm us."

"I'm sure it's a bait! Those piece of shit, scumbag werewolves! They think they can fool us again?"

One of them grabbed my arm and squeezed it tightly, almost as if he was trying to crush my arm. I winced in pain. "Mi-Mister! It hurts..." I weakly cried.

"Hurry, call the others! We must kill this mutt, here and now!" the man who grabbed my arm yelled. Some of the men left in a hurry. Even though I did not understand, I knew they did not have good intention. However, I did not cry because I was too confused with what happened. I did not struggle too, so I guess that was why the remaining men did not harm me. Sooner than I expected, more men came. They brough sharp weapons, blunt weapons, and even torches.

"Kill him! Kill him!" they angrily rushed to me. One of them almost swinged their weapon, until a hand punched that person away and he fell flat on the ground.

"AXEL!!!" it was Mama's voice.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!!! GRAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" Mama roared. She kicked and punched the angry mobs who tried to kill me. It was amazing, she could stand her ground despite being outnumbered and all her opponents were men. Maybe when we said Therian Wolf were used to be the strongest race, it was not an empty brag.

"Mama...?!" I confusedly called her. I wondered if Mama heard me.

"Axel! Axel stay close to Mama, okay! Let's get away from hereー" Mama tried to reach me, but it was too late.

Kshluk!

Mama's eyes widened. A dagger penetrated into her flesh, followed by a loud woman's scream.

"AAARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!"

It rung so loudly in my ears. In her last desperation, Mama still valiantly fight back and punched the men who stood in our way. Mama carried me and hurriedly ran back to the forest. Mama panted so heavily, but she kept running and running. She knew at this point, she could not win anyway.

"Mama, my ball!" I yelled.

"We'll buy a new one later, Axel!" Mama replied in the middle of her heavy panting. We probably got away pretty far already, so Mama dropped me. Her whole body was shaking, her face was pale. Mama was sweating a lot.

"Axel... Let's rest here. Mama is tired..." she said. I looked at Mama without saying anything, but I proceeded to follow her sitting under a tree. I blankly stared at her, until she started to shiver uncontrollably and puked.

"Oeegggghhhh... Bleerrgghhhh...! Cough... Cough... Blerrghh!"

"Ma... Mama...?"

I started to sense something was wrong with her, so I stood up. Why did she puke? Did she not eat the same meal like me? I was okay, though. Did she eat something when I was not looking? Mama's skin started to look bluish. Mama turned her head and looked at me for a moment. Then, she gave me a warm smile and gently patted me on the head.

"Axel, Mama is tired..." she said with a weak voice. "Let Mama rest a bit, okay?" she continued.

"Okay, Mama." I replied.

I sat next to her, while Mama slowly closed her eyes. I could see her body briefly jerked, until she stopped moving completely. I hummed the song we used to sing together and looked up on the sky. The clear blue sky I saw earlier was a bit darker with thick, black clouds scattered now. A murder of crows also flew above me in circles, as if it was telling a bad omen.

"Mama?" I called her quietly, not sure whether to wake her up. I saw Mama closed her eyes, as if she was sleeping. I reached her cheek, and it was cold.

Mama is cold, I thought. I took off my small jacket and covered her shoulder with it.

"There... Mama will get warmer." I muttered. Mama did not like her naps getting disturbed, so I tried so hard to put it gently. I sang again and looked at the sky once more. It started to get darker, the sun was setting. Would Papa get angry if we got home late? I wanted to wake mama up, but I was too afraid to do so. I held her hand then. It was cold too, so I gripped it tightly.

Maybe, I could make her warmer.

Soon, I heard some footsteps coming closer. There were two rangers approaching us.

"Oh, it was Axel." one of them laughed at me. "Hello, Axel!" they greeted.

"Hello, Mister!" I greeted them back with a smile.

"Oh, is that Mrs. Hilda?" the other ranger looked at Mama, but his expression suddenly changed. It was like a grave shock, as if he wanted to say something but words could not escape his mouth.

"A-Axel..." he tried to call me. "Your mother...?"

I smiled innocently while letting out a small laugh. "Mama said she is tired, so she is sleeping!" I tried to explain. The two rangers did not seem to be satisfied with my answer, and in turn looked at us in horror.

"And this is... your jacket?" they asked me again.

"Yes!" I exclaimed loudly with a big nod. "Mama is cold, so I'm trying to make her warm!"

The two rangers were shocked speechless with my answer. We fell into a silence for a moment. One of the rangers sighed, and spoke to his comrade. "Please, bring Axel home and tell Mr. Siegfried. I will contact the others."

The other ranger hung his head and stood up. His face looked gloomy, but after he took a deep breath he gave me a smile. "Let's go, Axel."

"But Mama?" I looked back at Mama.

"It's okay, my friend will be with her." he lifted my body and carried me. "It will get dark soon, so stay with me."

The ranger started to walk away, and Mama became farther and farther. I could not stop looking at Mama until she was out of my sight. I hoped Mama did not get angry with the other ranger, but she really napped for too long.

The ranger who was with me finally spoke, after walking for a while. "Axel... What happened earlier?" he asked.

"Oh... I was playing with my ball. Mama was reading papers." I replied.

"And then?"

"I chased my ball until I saw some men without ears and tail. They did not seem to like me, so, umm..." I tried to put what I saw into words. "They brought... knife? Fire? And, umm... Something you use to hit ball..."

The ranger stopped walking, and stood frozen while hearing my answer. He was really dumbfounded.

"Oh, they also said 'kill him, kill him'... What is 'kill'?" I asked the ranger. The ranger didn't answer, but he hugged me and stroked my head as if he was trying to comfort me.

"Sorry, Axel..." he said that instead.

I did not understand why he apologized.

Soon, we arrived at my house. The ranger knocked the door, and Papa opened it.

"Oh, Axel!" he was so delighted to see me, but his smile soon went away when he noticed someone was missing. "...Where's Hilda?" Papa asked.

"Umm... Sir... Mrs. Hilda is..." the ranger looked unsure about what to say. Papa started to look alerted. He pushed the ranger out of his way and ran from our house.

"Papa!" I tried to call him and struggled from the ranger's hold. The man dropped me, but he held my hand so I could not chase him.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" soon, my neighbors gathered. A neighboring lady now was holding me. Amidst the hustle and bustle, I could hear some words although I did not understand what that meant.

Hilda died.

Papa came home crying, which was an extremely rare sight. People around me were also crying. Why? Why they suddenly felt sad? I saw Mama in a pretty, white dress, being put inside a box. Mama was still sleeping. I stared at her face. Why did not she wake up? Mama would hate it, that kind of dress must be uncomfortable for her to wear. Furthermore, I never saw Mama in a dress.

Papa was still sobbing, his face was covered by his big, calloused hands. I did not understand, why Papa cried so much? Papa was usually alright when Mama was sleeping. Mama would wake up tomorrow morning, right?

Right?

"Axel!" the lady from earlier pulled me away from the Box where Mama slept inside. I glanced at that lady's face, her eyes were also wet.

"Axel... You don't feel sad?" she asked me.

"Why?" I smiled to that lady. "Mama said she is tired, and she needs a rest. She will wake up when she is not tired anymore. Maybe tomorrow morning!" I continued.

The lady bursted into tears when she heard my answer, along with other adults around who heard what I said. I felt like maybe they wanted to say something to me, but they couldn't bring themselves to do so.

Soon, the top of the box was covered.

Would Mama still be able to breathe?

After that, some men carried the box outside. Out of curiosity, I followed them. I tried to got close to Papa, although he dismissed me. He did not look at me even once, he was busy crying while some of his subordinates calmed him down. I did not know where did they bring Mama to, but it was a place with a lot of stones. The stones all looked the same. There was a large hole on the ground. The box was lowered. Mama was there, inside of the box. My eyes widened. What did they do to Mama?

"Mama...!" I tried to reach the box.

"Axel! Don't!!" a man grabbed me and held me back. Maybe he was a ranger like Papa and Mama.

"But Mama...!"

My jaw dropped when they covered the hole with the soil around it.

"Mister! What if Mama wake up!" I tried to struggle from the man's hold. I wanted to stop the men who buried Mama, but I could not escape his hold.

The man did not say anything for a while, until he finally spoke in a low voice. "Your Mama... Will not wake up, Axel..."

I looked back at him. "Umm, not tomorrow?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah... yeah. Not... Not tomorrow." he replied hesitantly. I stood up in a daze. Maybe he was right. Sometimes, Mama needed to sleep a lot when she was so tired. Maybe this was also one of those times.

"Okay..." I stopped struggling. "Then I'll wait until Mama wake up."

The man did not reply to me anymore, but I could see a single tear fell from his eye.

I did not cry at all even until the burial was over, because I believed Mama would wake up someday.

* * *

After that fateful day, Papa changed. Papa smoked a lot, he often locked him inside his room. Papa kept himself busy with his job and did not allow me to leave our house. I did not have anything to do, so I only waited for Papa to come home in front of our door. But, Papa still did not look at me. He acted as if I was not there. Papa always refused to play with me. Maybe he was tired, so I tried to understand.

It was lonely, though.

"Mister Kitty, play with me~" I said to a ginger tabby cat who often visited me. I swung the cattails in front of it.

"Meooww~" the cat flopped on its back, trying to catch the toy. He looked rough and dirty, well he was a stray cat. But, Mister Kitty was very friendly to me. After a while, Mister Kitty got bored with the toy and just sat next to me while licking his paw. I gave him some pats.

"Axel, why don't you play with other kids?" Mister Kitty asked me. As a Therian, I can understand animal speak which is a good thing.

"Umm... I don't have friends..." I replied.

"Poor little thing." Mister Kitty licked my hand. "Then it can't be helped, huh? I'll be your friend."

I laughed at him. "Sure thing! I love being with Mister Kitty, too!"

At least, with Mister Kitty around, I was not that lonely.

Some neighbors sometimes would stop by and asked me, "Why don't you play with other children, Axel?"

I shook my head. "Papa said I couldn't leave our house..."

"You can play on my house," said my next door neighbor lady. "I also have a son around your age."

"No... thank you..." I shook my head again while giving a sheepish smile. "Papa will get angry if I disobey him."

"Ah, then... I'll try to ask my son if he wanted to play with you, okay? Wait!" she hurriedly went back to her house. I only blankly stared at her. Not too long after, I could hear her son yelled from their house.

"No, I don't wanna play with Axel!"

"But why? He doesn't have a friend, you know?"

"He is boring! I don't like him!"

I sighed. I knew it. I did not know why other children did not like me that much. I stared on my feet. It did not matter, anyway. I had Mister Kitty. I still had a friend.

But, that day was weird. Mister Kitty came to me with bloodied head and limping feet. I was very shocked when I saw him on that state.

"Mister Kitty!" I quickly ran to him. "Mister Kitty, what's wrong???" I asked. I squatted and tried to touch him very gently, afraid that my touch could hurt him.

"Someone hit me, Axel." he huddled closer to me and purred. I did not know what to do, so I sat on the ground while staying close to him.

"Mister Kitty..." my voice was shaken. I was on the verge of tears when I saw my only friend was badly battered like that.

"It's okay. Don't cry, boy."

Sadly, I could not stay with Mister Kitty. When Papa came home, I needed to go inside. The next day, Mister Kitty was not around my house anymore.

I waited. Maybe Mister Kitty would come later. Soon, I heard two neighborhood ladies talking to each other.

"Last night, I saw an orange cat on my backyard. It was dying and really made my daughter shocked." one of them said.

"Oh, poor thing... Did you managed to save it?"

"No... It died. We ended up burying it there."

My eyes widened. Where did I hear those words before?

Hilda died.

It... could not be Mister Kitty, right? There were a lot of orange cats around. I shook my head, trying to not think too much about what they said. Mister Kitty was probably resting and would come later.

Later.

One day. Two days. Three days.

A week. Two weeks.

Mister Kitty did not come for two weeks. I was starting to feel uneasy and upset. Where was Mister Kitty? Had his wound healed already?

I remembered the neighbor from that day, I knew her house. For the first time after a long while, I stepped out of my house alone. I ran to her house and sneaked to her backyard. I gasped when I arrived there, I saw something. It was a small mound of soil. It looked like... the place where Mama was buried, just much smaller. I fell on the ground, sitting, and my jaw dropped.

"Mister... Kitty...?"

I see. Mister Kitty was also tired. Mister Kitty was not going to wake up anytime soon. For the time being, I should leave him alone, then.

"Good night, Mister Kitty..."

* * *

After I did not see Mister Kitty anymore, my days became bleaker. I was only sitting in front of my door, staring blankly to the hustling road without doing anything while waiting for Papa to come home. Sometimes I would read some books, but even that went boring so quickly. I wonder if there was something I could do.

One day, Papa came home earlier than usual. He looked like he was in a hurry.

"Axel, pack your stuff." he also spoke to me. How unusual.

"Eh? Why?" I followed him inside.

"We're going to move." Papa replied.

"Move? Where?" I asked again.

"Doesn't matter, just pack your stuff." he said without looking at me, busy with looking for something.

"But, this house...?"

"That's for Papa to think."

"But, how about Mama? What if Mama wake up and we're not hereー"

"JUST!!! PACK YOUR STUFF!!!" Papa yelled on the top of his lungs straight to my face.

"...!!!" I gasped and was frozen in shock. Papa never yelled that loudly to me, but it seemed like he did not care. Papa left me alone when I was still standing motionlessly. After a while, I could let the shock sink in and then ran to my room. I did not know what to pack, so I took all of my toys. When I was busy collecting my toys, Papa came in.

"Done packing?" he asked. He frowned when he saw me and my toys, and clicked his tongue. Papa removed all of my toys from the box and replaced them with my clothes. "We can't bring them." he said, as he stuffed my clothes inside the box.

"But I... want to bring them..." I tried to talk back, now in a lower voice.

"We can buy them again." Papa replied dismissively. I could only see Papa packing up my stuff in silence. I looked at my bookshelf. Ah, right. My books. I took every single of them and approached Papa.

"Papa, I want to bring my books." I said to him.

"No." Papa answered without looking at me.

"Please, Papa? It doesn't take a lot of space like my toys?"

Papa sighed, and took a brief glance at me. He was just finished with packing my clothes.

"Fine, just five. Put it with my books." he said shortly before he left my room.

"Really! Yaaayy!!! Okay, one..."

I counted to five for the books I wanted to bring. It was hard to choose, because I love my books. But eventually, I could decide. I excitedly came to Papa's room and showed him the books I wanted to bring.

"Papa! These are the booksー"

Without saying anything, Papa took the books from my hands and put it in a bag along with his books. "Now, bath. We will leave soon."

I complied with what he said. He was right, as soon as I was finished with dressing up we really left our house. Papa brought me to his office, although he told me to wait on the entrance.

"Hi, Axel!" the officer in duty greeted me.

"Hello, Mister!" I greeted back with a huge smile.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Papa said we are moving away."

"Really?" he seemed surprised. "Then, good luck with your new place! Have a safe trip~" the officer continued with a heartfelt laugh. I could not help but also laughed together with him.

Soon after Papa was finished with his business, we took a bus. It had been a long time since I rode a bus. I was excited to see the scenery from beyond the glass window. Then, I quietly stole a glance on Papa.

Papa was looking away. He looked lost in thought, but he did not look at me.

Papa never looked at me anymore ever since that day.

[morethanwordscansay]

HAERIN JUNG. TWENTY TWO. THE PHOENIX.

♡     ◞        statistics.

full  name: haerin jung.

nickname:  her stage name is rina but close friends still call her haerin.

date  of  birth:  tba/tba/1999.

zodiac  sign:  tba.

place  of  birth:  san diego, california.

current  location:  los angeles, california.

gender: cis woman, uses she / her pronouns.

sexuality:  bisexual.

languages: english (native), korean (native).

♡     ◞        bits and bops.

character  tropes:  the pastiche, the phoenix.

traits:  adaptable, hard-working, independent, guarded, cynical, insecure.

habits:  tba.

likes:  summer, colourful flowers, spicy foods, baths with rose petals.

dislikes:  thunderstorms, being late, mustard, horror movies, being ignored.

notable  skills:  transitioning between vocal registers, remembering faces from years ago, .

♡     ◞        background.

born to be an heiress to a massive business empire worth millions of dollars is not as exemplary as you might think, haerin jung would say. growing up under the strict eyes of her negligent parents, she felt that she was destined to be the black sheep of the family. she had frequent pointless arguments with her mother, driving an invisible wall between the two as the years went by. her fraternal twin and her only best friend, hyunwoo, was always obedient and eager to please, delighting their parents to an infinite degree. because of this, haerin believes there is nothing in the world she could do to ever satisfy her parents.

but haerin remembers that her childhood wasn’t always miserable. she was six years old when her aunt took her, hyunwoo and her cousins to the beach every weekend, the days being a blur of icy waves, melting ice creams, sand-covered limbs and cheerful laughter. that was the first time haerin had a taste of the music industry, having seen her first live concert on one of those days. it wasn’t until one day, six-year-old haerin was chosen to sing a song during a karaoke session being held at the beach when haerin became enraptured with the art of performing in front of a crowd. after that, music and singing became such an essential thing to her that she realised that it wasn’t just a hobby -- it was something she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

haerin was seven when her childhood started going downhill. wanting to delve deeper into the world of music, she’d asked for a guitar as her birthday present. although her mother was hesitant about this, her parents granted her wish and she was given an acoustic white oak guitar on the morning of her seventh birthday. soon later, haerin began spending every spare moment she could have with the instrument. believing that both her children should only focus on inheriting their family’s business empire and not on other activities, mrs jung silently disapproved of this.

mrs jung refused to confess her feelings about her daughter’s hobby to her outright, but the resentment in her caused mrs jung to start acting cold towards her daughter.  this caused an evident tension between haerin and her mother, leading to disagreements and fights between the two. as haerin's mental health started worsening, she became more withdrawn from her family and even shutting out jaemin. she began developing some unhealthy habits her life spiralling out of control. this continued on for the next ten years, mrs jung criticising and finding fault in everything haerin did, to the point where haerin and everyone around them knew that all the hatred and fury pent up inside them both would burst. the dreadful day came when haerin turned seventeen. haerin and her mother were fighting again, but their tempers were heightened like never before. haerin’s head was full of rage, the day was a blur and all she remembered was the words her mother had screamed, words she would never forget.

“no daughter of mine would ever disappoint me like you have, and as far as i’m concerned, you’re no longer part of my family!”

the words echoed in her head, shattering every shred of hope that her mother had any love for her left in her body. she’d turned to hyunwoo then, her favourite person, the one she could always count on, but hyunwoo refused to meet her eyes nor stand up for her. that was when she knew she was no longer wanted by anyone. she was alone. swallowing her tears, haerin packed her things, guitar and all and was forced out the door. she got in her car and drove around the city endlessly, eventually ending up on her cousin and her roommate’s couch in los angeles, two hours away from the town she grew up in.

to be continued...

♡     ◞        personality.

she is a heaux for cute floral dresses!! not that she doesn’t want to wear other types of outfits (and she can totally rock them if she wants to) but her fashion sense is just naturally elegant and traditionally girly like that. she’s very nice but she knows how to clap back so don’t EVER be mean to her huge introvert. she kinda doesn’t know how to communicate with strangers or people in general. this is because she was homeschooled, plus with her lifestyle now it doesn’t allow her to meet a lot of people or make friends. even after all the anguish her put her through after not standing up for her, she misses her brother fiercely, but she won’t admit it. if she could meet him again, she would like to tell him that she’s doing fine. she wishes he had been by her side during moments like getting the record deal, or when her youtube video reached a million views for the first time.

she gets melancholic every time her birthday comes around because 1. she used to share it with her brother, and 2. It’s close to the day she got disowned from her family and it just brings back bad memories. as for the actual birthday itself, her tradition now is for her roommates to buy her a small cake and call it happy *age* day. she is absolutely oblivious to her own beauty due to the insecurities that stemmed from being abandoned by her family. will blush like crazy if someone compliments her appearance, and there’s no doubt that she will think of the compliment for the rest of the day. however, she is quite aware of her capabilities as a vocalist. as a popstar, she keeps her personal life relatively private, and though it is known to the public that she is related to the family that owns jung properties, she has managed to dodge every question from paparazzi about it.

♡     ◞        plots.  

tba.

[lady-cayleen]

Cayleen's "Cheese Sheet pt 4: Personality - pt. 2"

Being Loved: Cayleen's loving relationships keep her going strong when circumstances and emotions might otherwise overwhelm her. This does, however, lead to vicious loyalty and protectiveness on her part.

Being hated: True hatred knows no cure but that it should cease.

Humiliation: Cayleen was as equally sensitive and exposed to humiliation as a young child as she was to criticism. It's a sensation she's largely outgrown. Feeling bad won't affect the outcome or aftermath.

Praise: She's usually surprised when she receives praise.

Other: ???

How does this character react to things in general? Cayleen does her best to roll with the punches and ride every wave of every new experience. She doesn't have the best self confidence, overall, but tries to maintain a constant cautious optimism.

What does this character think about…

Marriage: can't wait

Sex: yes, please

Children: why not?

Love: loves it

Youth: has its place

Friendship: gotta have it

Old Age: has its place

Family: can't live without it. If you don't have it, find it

Religion: keeps us grounded when everything else should fall out from beneath us

Society: should see that no one is alone

Material things: she's admittedly fond of sentimental trinkets, but acknowledges all things in life are perishable

Science: fascinating, so long as it is practical (not nearly so interested in what stars are made of as she is in the study of their movements, etc)

Nature: Cayleen has come to hold Nature in much higher regard, since becoming a Worgen, and leans heavily on Kiandra of the Harvest, one of her advisors, for as much spiritual guidance as any other wisdom the woman has to offer her.

Military: Cayleen's family has been involved with the Gilnean military for as far as history can tell- and longer. As a child, she did not take to it much as her predecessors, more interested in her father's business-oriented approach to running the house. However, recent events and the Worgen curse have left her with a new appreciation for having a good offense in defense of what one holds dear.

Foreign Things: Cayleen has inherited a love of exploration from both sides of her family, if especially from her parents, and foreign things appeal to her as much as new things do, in general.

LGBTQ+: Not her jam, and she doesn't spare much thought for it.

How does this character express…

Anger: glowering, yelling, or exploding - depending on the severity of her anger.

Sadness: Cayleen supresses all but the most severe sadness. What she lets out, she lets out in the comfort of the arms of those absolutely closest to her - unless she vents it out alongside anger.

Fear: Cayleen does her best to veil fear behind terse politeness in social situations and resorts to violence when and where acceptable.

Happiness: Cayleen tends to be either content or exuberant in her happy moments. You're as like to find her smiling and eyes closed, daydreaming with the sun on her face as you are to encounter her dashing barefoot across the countryside with her wild curls tugged unbound by the wind.

Love: Cayleen's a cuddler, so love has to reach a threshold in platonic, familial or romantic senses, but then you have a lap dog.

Lust: how does anyone?

Hate: if Cayleen is expressing hatred, your face is in trouble. Would you like it mauled or crispy?

Stress/Anxiety: work harder, work harder, set something on fire

Depression: She pushes it down and pushes through it, if she can. If not, howling is a great outlet.

Excitement: Exuberantly 

Dislike: Cayleen does her best to suppress dislike of "things" and "happenings". She's not so great at veiling her dislike of a given individual.

Approval: head ruffles and/or brow kisses

How do they react in a crisis? The crisis is one of Cayleen's least favorite events. She's good at buckling down and following orders, but when she's expected to lead, unanticipated occurrences lead to overreactions more often than not. Scorched earth isn't going to be raising a resistance against you.

How do they view life? Life is a series of contests and battles in the contest of nature, which all will eventually lose. Each challenge should be met with one's best effort. Victories and respites should be indulged to their fullest.

How do they view death? Death is life's constant companion, visiting with some regularity, until it comes to take us.

How do they imagine their death? Cayleen imagines her death in one of three ways, violent and bloody, a dark and suffocating drowning (this she can imagine better), or utterly spent and exhausted.

What do they want out of life? She wants herself and those she cares for to have happy homes, and to feel like she helped along the way.

What do they want to change in their life? See above.

What motivates them? See above.

What discourages them? Her own lack of experience, every new worldwide catastrophe.

What makes them happy? Spending leisure time with friends.

What makes them sad? Loss

What makes them angry? Loss, people taking advantage of or otherwise harming people, her own failures.

What humiliates them? Failure, losing her clothes in public, losing her temper in public (but only sometimes), making a mess (but only sometimes), being wrong with bad consequences.

What most describes their personality? Cayleen is a quiet but determined soul with a driving urge to care for those around her as best she can.

[legxllyblxndc]

15 years later || character headcanon

mildred ‘millie’ greene - 23 / 38 | photographer | she D O E S remember | THEN: being a member of the greene family, meant that there was a certain kind of reputation you inherited and the middle greene child lived up to that reputation. she never wanted that to be the case but it was basically inevitable. in order to escape the realities of her life, millie would spend more time partying. by the time that she was 20, millie relied pretty heavily on drugs and alcohol to have a good time. it was the only way that she was able to escape the reality of her life - and her own self hatred. when your own parents looked at you like they wished you were never even born, it would be pretty difficult to actually learn to care for yourself properly. millie was a typical middle sibling too. while joey tried his best to give both his sisters his attention, georgie was typically his focus and so millie did anything she could to get attention from him. she would cause trouble at school, start fights on nights out, date boys that were not good for her. one such boy was levi scott. he was someone who millie always found herself going back too. they lived similar lived, relied on similar things and it was just easy to fall into old, bad habits with him. at 23, she was sure that he would always be the one person in her life that she would have to rely on, the one person that would always be there for her. mildred has always been a creative person. the few things that she would actually take seriously are the school musicals and her art. it was just another way to help her escape from her every day life. she got to escape into different characters or the world of her paintings or photographs. she never thought that it would be something she would have the means to pursue but she loved it.  NOW:  on the off chance, however, when she was 25, millie applied to be a photographers assistant and to her great surprise, they hired her. she couldn’t believe her luck. millie learned so much on that job. and it helped change things for her. she felt like she was really able to stand on her own two feet and was able to break the toxic circle she had found herself in. she and levi called things quits for the last time, she stopped relying on drugs and alcohol and she finally felt like she was happy. when her boss, edward ingham, asked her on a date, millie thought that she was the luckiest girl on the planet. he was a bit older than her and he was married - though he swore that he was getting a divorce. she found out six months into their relationship that he had no intention of actually divorcing his wife and that millie was just someone to ‘keep him young’. when she confronted him, he threatened to fire her if she left him. she called his bluff but he made work a living hell for her. so much so, that millie decided to start her own business. it was difficult - especially since she didn’t have much money to fall back on - but she made it work and her business was thriving by the time that she was 35. it was around this time that she bumped into mason grant again. the two of them knew each other when they were younger, when millie was using and a bit of a whirlwind. they quickly started a relationship and she had moved in with him within six months. within the year, he had proposed and millie couldn’t say anything but yes. although mason is a really nice person, millie can’t help but feel a little trapped and she has turned back to alcohol to try and get her through the day. she doesn’t know what is wrong with her relationship, she just knows that it isn’t something that’s right for her. 

dorothy ‘dodie’ connors - 22 / 37 | veterinarian | she D O E S N ’ T remember |   THEN: dodie was raised by a single mother and the pair of them were best friends. it wasn’t unusual for dodie to step into the ‘mother’ role. and while it stole a lot of her childhood, it did mean that she is deeply empathetic. looking after everyone and everything around her came natural to dodie. though she absolutely knew how to hold her own. it wasn’t unusual that she would have to fight for both herself and her mother, after all. she has always had a big group of friends and she is incredibly protective over each and every single one of them. when dodie decided to go to university to become a vet, it seemed to make sense to pretty much everyone. animals had always been something that dodie loved and being able to be around them and help them all day long was absolutely something she loved. at 22, dodie had been dating her childhood sweetheart, jonah, for as long as anyone could remember. whenever they thought about their future, they knew that the other would be in it. they were both working so hard - dodie studying as much as she could, jonah building his business - in order to have the life that both of them had always dreamed about having. and no-one was more supportive of their relationship than dodies mother. 

NOW: and everything came crashing around them a little after the death of her mother. dodie and her mother were out shopping when her mother fainted and never woke up. it turned out that she had an aneurysm and there wasn’t anything that anyone could’ve done about it. losing her mum completely shook dodies world and she just couldn’t hold onto anything around her. it was around the same time that her relationship with jonah started to fail and she didn’t have it in her to fight hard enough to hold onto it. dodie ended things few months after her mum died. her whole world came crashing around her and for a little while, she didn’t have it in her to try and rebuild it. she muddled along, going through the motions. it took a couple years for her to properly be able to pull herself out of that hole and it was due to the help of asa johnson. the pair had been friends for a long time and he was really there for her after her mother died. he made sure that dodie ate, that she had someone to cry too if she needed it ... but also someone who would give her space when she needed it as well. and she quickly realised - or thought she realised - that her platonic feelings for him were more than that. the two of them started dating and a few months in, they found out that she was pregnant dodie was already starting to have doubts about their relationship - wondering if she had confused the kind of love she had for asa but there was no way she was not going to have this child. when olivia - named after her mother - was born, it was the best day of dodies life. her relationship, however, didn’t last much longer after that. though the pair are still friends now. dodie only recently started dating someone again, levi scott. although the pair are still very eary in their relationship, he has met olivia and so far, dodie is pretty smitten. 

zoe gooding - then: 21, now: 36 | performer (currently playing effie in dreamgirls) | she D O E S N ’ T remember  |  THEN: ever since zoe was a child, she was told exactly who she was supposed to be - what a woman was supposed to be. they were supposed to be quiet, prim and proper. they weren’t supposed to speak unless they were spoken too. and for a while, zoe went along with that. but the older that she became, the less she bought into the idea. she didn’t fit the ideal that her parents had. and she definitely fit into being a house wife - like they always told her that she was supposed to be. her parents had put her in dance lessons since she was four years old and she fell completely in love. performing was all that she wanted to do. she would always be in the school musicals, she joined a musical theatre group behind her parents back and she loved it! when it came to going to university, zoe decided that she was going to pursue what she wanted - drama school. though it was the last straw for her parents. they gave her an ultimatum - she give up on the ‘pipe dream’ of performing or they kicked her out. if it hadn’t been for seth whitlock, zoe wouldn’t have known what she would have done. seth was a family friend who has been her friend for as long as she can remember. and as they got older, she realised that she was in love with him. seth was both her best friend and love of her life all rolled into one. and when her parents kicked her out, he took her in. he proposed to her around the same time too. although they were raised in similar environments, both were determined to be their own people, to live their own lives. and she never saw a future where she didn’t have him in it. 

NOW: after leaving drama school, zoe immediate got a part in her first professional musical - something she knew was incredibly lucky. and she hasn’t stopped working since. she just feels so lucky that the gamble paid off. although she was busy, zoe still gave everything else she had into her relationship with seth. for a long time, he was the most important person in her life and when zoe turned 30, she thought that the two of them should start thinking about children. and the pair started to try. though it was difficult. zoe was always busy with work, seth was taking on more and more of the business responsibilities from his father. they hardly had any time together ... but they wanted it so badly. they tried for a couple years before they realised that it wasn’t going to be easy for them and they decided that they needed to stop for a little while. they needed to take a breath and figure out what their next steps were. that in itself took a toll on their relationship. but through that time, seth had taken over the business from his father and become a completely different man. he was someone that she didn’t recognise anymore. and eventually, she just couldn’t do it anymore. despite it completely breaking her heart, zoe asked seth for a divorce. and zoe started one of the scariest periods of her life - a life without seth. since the divorce, she has completely thrown herself into work. she’s not particularly interested in another relationship. zoe knows that she will always be in love with seth so she doesn’t see the point. her focus is just performing and getting better and better. so when she was cast as effie in dream girls, it was the first real joy that she had felt for a few years. 

[whimsicallyreading]

For Rowaelin Month day 17

 “A sick day”

CW- PTSD, mentions of violence

Aelin considered herself a fortunate person.

She has survived genocide, her family's murders, losing loved ones, slavery, torture, and the Great War. Now she is a queen, a mother, a beloved Mate.

Her life had changed since those bleak days where she'd wondered if she would ever escape captivity—the days when Aelin didn't know if she would ever be free or find love again. Every morning she woke up curled into Rowan's side, and while she drank her morning tea, Aelin could count on her young daughter snuggling into her lap.

Yes, she was swamped most days, but that was normal for a queen. But even the moments between boring meetings brimmed with life and laughter. Rowan's hand on her thigh beneath the table. Fenrys' theatrics when conversation spiraled off-topic. And even the hardened lords thought it was hilarious when their three-year-old princess barged into councils and demanded her mother's attention.

Her family gathered for dinners at the end of every day. Aelin's little family, Fenrys, Emrys, and Malakai were the regular attendees. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide, and Lorcan joined when they were present. It was a time reserved for family only, and it was by far Aelin's favorite part of the day.

Aelin had a good life now. Her family was growing, and her country thrived beneath her rule.

So it always took her by surprise when a bad day came.

She had woken up fine. Delly had slammed open the chamber door with a gust of wind and squirmed herself between her and Rowan in the early morning. Usually, Aelin treasured the moments when her daughter joined them, but being pregnant again had taken a toll on her sleep.

Rowan tried to stop their child before she entirely collapsed onto Aelin but was a moment too slow. Delly flopped onto her mother's chest in a disarray of wrinkled nightgown and golden curls. Soft sobs were sputtering out of the tiny figure.

I'm sorry. Rowan whispered into her thoughts. He knew how hard pregnancy was on her and took his mate's comfort very seriously. It troubled him that their toddling daughter woke Aelin so abruptly.

Aelin blinks the sleep from her eyes and sends him a happy smile to assure him everything is fine.

"What's wrong, Dell?" Aelin soothes a hand up her baby's quaking form.

Adelia sniffles harder, unable to talk through the tears. She'd started to have bad dreams in recent weeks, but never had she been so inconsolable.

Aelin shifts as Adelia's arms tighten uncomfortably around her bump. Rowan sees her discomfort and reaches around to pull Dell to him instead, but it is met with resistance.

"No," Adelia finally wails. "Mama. I want Mama."

Rowan frowns. Adelia was a daddy's girl to the bone, and this was the first time she'd ever refused to go to him. Their daughter squeezes harder and burrows her face into Aelin's torso.

"Dell," Rowan leans next to her and whispers, a cool breeze brushing against her flushed cheek. "What's wrong little love?"

Adelia lifts her head, and Aelin's heart contracts painfully. Her cheeks are red and swollen from the intensity of her crying, little sobs still stumbling from her chest as Rowan settles her down enough to speak.

"Mama was gone. She was hurt, and she couldn't see me." Dell sniffles, her green eyes glassy. "Can you see me, Mama?"

Aelin tugs her daughter in closer, unable to stand the sight of her so sad. "Yes, of course, I can. I'm right here."

"You were in a box. She wouldn't let me see you," Adelia whimpers in a small voice. "She told me she was gonna keep you. I don't want you to go, Mama."

Aelin's face blanches. It wasn't possible. Her little baby couldn't possibly have seen what was coming to her mind. She looks at Rowan, and his face is pinched with worry.

"It's not real, Dell." Rowan uses a thumb to wipe the tears off her cheek.

Adelia flinches. "Uncle Ress told me it was. He told me Mama had got stollen and put into a box by the bad lady and that she should have stayed there."

Aelin's heart stops. Nausea crawls up her throat, and Rowan tugs Adelia away just in time for her to crawl out of bed and gag into a potted plant. The sickness grips Aelin, the shudders in her arms only growing worse with her daughter's mumbled cries.

"Daddy, I want Mama to stay here." Rowan hushes her and murmurs quiet reassurances. "Don't let her get stollen."

Ress had said that? In front of her daughter? Aelin tries to close her eyes against the visions creeping into her mind. The places her scars used to be ache, and her hands pulse with the remembered pain of reconstruction.

The baby in her womb squirms under its mother's stress, and Aelin throws up again.

She should have stayed there.

Cairn brings the hammer down onto her frail knees, the ringing of cracking bone splits the air.

She should have stayed there.

Aelin opens her eyes to endless darkness. Sweet smoke wafts through invisible holes and sends her to sleep- leaving her mind vulnerable to Maeve's manipulations.

She should have stayed there.

More and more memories swarm behind her eyelids until a pair of grounding arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Fireheart, you are home. You are safe. Can you breathe with me?" Rowan sighs loudly behind her shoulder, and Aelin tries to force her own breath out.

Breathing in is harder, but Rowan's scent fills her nose and loosens the binds on her lungs. Soon, Aelin is doing the exercises independently, and Rowan nuzzles his face into her neck. His hands snake under her bump and lift some of the pressure, easing more of her tension.

"There you are," Rowan kisses her cheek as Aelin comes back around. "Are you okay?"

Aelin shakes her head and sinks into his arms. "Can you take me back to bed?"

Her legs feel like jelly, and her stomach is weak from turning. Rowan lifts her with ease. His arms are warm, and he murmurs sweet nothings into her ear as he carries his mate back to their bed.

"Adelia?" Aelin looks around for their daughter.

Rowan pulls back the duvet and reveals the sleepy from nestled right into the middle of the pillows. "She fell back asleep quickly."

"I can't believe Ress told her those things," Aelin can feel a tear slipping down her face. Ress had never forgiven her for her days as Celaena. Darrow had grown to accept her, but Ress never warmed up to having Aelin as his queen despite her efforts.

She hadn't realized the extent his hatred went.

Rowan scowls as he lays Aelin down next to their daughter. "Ress is young and foolish. I have forgiven a lot of his hostility and ignored most of his juvenile antics, but Aelin, I can't forgive this."

"He should never have said those things to Dell." Ress's words linger in her head. She tried to do right by her title and live up to her parent's legacy. Aelin took a lot of pride in listening to the demands of her people and tending to their problems personally. But the odds of Ress being the only one to feel this way are slim. Did they wish she'd never returned? Was she arrogant to take the crown just because it was her inheritance? She'd never had the formal training as ruler and relied a lot on Rowan to help manage foreign affairs. Despite the loss of her fire, many still feared her and considered her a murderer. No matter how hard she tried, Aelin's history as Adarlan's Assassin proceeded her.

Tears burn Aelin's eyes, and Rowan's scowl deepens. "He should have never spoken of you like that at all."

Aelin shakes her head, "It's his right to think what he wants. Maybe he has a point."

"No." Rowan growls, and Dell flinches in her sleep. Taking a deep breath, Rowan softens his voice. "He's wrong, Aelin. Ress was wrong to scare Dell, and he has no right to demean everything you've sacrificed. You've suffered for your people."

"I closed the lock because I had to Rowan," Aelin argues. "That doesn't automatically make me a good queen. What if I'm failing?"

Rowan pulls their duvet up to Aelin's chin, and Dell instinctively snuggles to her mother's side. Her daughter was a leach for warmth, and Aelin could feel her remaining flames writhing in her veins agitated.

"You are a wonderful ruler, Fireheart." Rowan bends down and kisses her lips reverently. "I've met my fair share of emperors, kings, and queens. None of them have given up so much to better the lives of their people. They care for you in return."

Rowan steps away from the bed, and Aelin makes a displeased noise. "Where are you going so early in the morning."

"I'm awake now. I feel like a flight through Oakwald. Go to sleep, and when you wake up, I'll bring my females breakfast," Rowan pulls on a plain white tunic. "Sleep, love. You both need your rest."

Rowan can read her too well. Aelin can feel her eyes drooping despite how much she wants to deny it. "Very well, but there better be tea and pastries."

As Aelin drifts back to sleep, she swears that a mischievous smile passes across her mate's face.

~~~

"Aelin," Maeve twirls a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. "Where are the keys?"

Cairn twists the blade in her thigh again, and Aelin screams, "screw yourself."

Aelin writhes beneath the pain and the dark queen's gaze. Her torturer goes to twist the blade again, but Maeve holds up a hand. "Wait. There is a smarter way to go about this."

"I won't tell you anything," Aelin gasps, the blood seeping from her thigh pools onto the table. "There is nothing you can do."

"Not even to spare the princess?" Maeve smiles as the cell door opens. Connall walks into the room, a squirming girl in his arms.

"Let me go," the girl screams, and the air in the room turns frigid. Her blonde hair whips around as she twists and fights. The little girl's head turns, and she freezes when she catches sight of Aelin. "Mama?"

"Adelia?" Aelin asks, confused. "You can't be here. You aren't supposed to be here." With renewed energy, Aelin thrashes against her bonds and bares her teeth at Maeve.

Maeve takes Adelia from Connall and strokes her hair. "Such a pretty one."

"This isn't real," Aelin hisses. "I wasn't pregnant when you took me. Adelia was born in Terresan."

Maeve hums a sympathetic note, "It seems you're confused." Aelin fights as the dark queen sits with a frozen Adelia in her lap. "Begin again, Cairn."

A hot iron is lain against Aelin's neck, and Adelia's screams rattle the stone chamber.

~~~

Aelin wakes with a gasp. Her chest is seizing in uncontrollable fits, and little hands cup the sides of her face.

"Mama?" Adelia's concerned face hovers over Aelin's. "Why are you crying?"

Relief washes over her at the sight of her daughter, safe and sound. She tries to take deeper breaths, but her body fights against her. The baby in her womb squirms uncomfortably. Aelin feels guilt that they are so subject to her moods. She tries to open her mouth to speak, consol her frightened daughter, but Aelin can't get any words out.

"Daddy!" Dell screams, frightened tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

Rowan bursts through the door, "Dell?"

Adelia sniffles and kisses Aelin's face sadly, "Daddy, what's wrong with Mama?"

Aelin grabs at her chest, trying to ease the tightness there. She was scaring her daughter. What kind of mother would do that? Rowan sits beside her, and a cool wind goes up her nose and fills her lungs.

"Fireheart," Rowan lifts Adelia and sits beside her. "Is this a sick day?"

It was the code they'd come up with for the days when the past came back to haunt them. When the turmoil in their mind forces their bodies to rebel, and they can't seem to put on their usual facades. It used to shame Aelin, the days she couldn't rise from bed and do her duty. But her mate's unwavering love soon cracked that lie and eased her burden. Rowan had convincing arguments. Aelin's people needed their queen at her best, and on sick days, she wasn't able to give that to them. Their court was strong. They wouldn't allow Terresan to fall while she recovered. Aelin deserved time to heal.

Rowan must have been able to tell that she wouldn't be able to settle herself this time as his winds continued their push and pull in her chest. "Yes," she rasps dejectedly.

Dell buries her face into Rowan's shoulder. Her mate rests a hand on the side of her face and soothes her cheek. "To whatever end, Aelin. We will get through this just as we do everything else."

Rowan kisses the side of Dell's face. "Little love, do you think you can go to the kitchens and have someone bring Mama tea?"

That fae instinct to fuss rears its head in their child. Adelia perks up at the opportunity to do something useful. "Yes!"

Rowan sets her on the floor, and she takes off in a blur of untamed hair and swishing skirts. They wince as a gust of wind slams the doors of their chambers against the wall.

"She's a handful," Rowan talks, aware of the soothing effect his voice has on her. "But we always knew our children would be. I can't wait to see what kind of chaos our son brings into our lives."

Aelin wraps her arms around him as the remnants of her dreams finally fade away. "You think it's a boy?"

"I know so," Rowan pinches her side, and Aelin smiles. He'd also been confident that their first child would be a girl. His smugness after Adelia's birth was unbearable.

"Rowan," Aelin whispers. "Can we just lay here today?"

"I could never deny you anything," Rowan leans against their headboard and kicks off his shoes. "You don't need to ask, Aelin. It's okay to take time for yourself."

"What if I'm just proving Ress right?" The insecurity slips from her lips before she can stop them. "What if there is someone more capable?"

"Ress won't be a problem anymore," Rowan rests a hand against her bump, and the baby withing kicks at it, bringing a smile to his face.

Aelin narrows her eyes, "What have you done?"

"Nothing that anyone will blame me for," Rowan assures. "He would be in a lot more trouble if the rest of the court learned what he said in front of Dell. Ress should be grateful I didn't do a lot worse."

Aelin sighs, "I don't understand why I can't just let it all go. Why do I allow myself to be so haunted?"

"It's not that simple," Rowan shakes his head. "I'm hundreds of years old, and no matter how many years pass, there are things from my past that haven't healed. The mind is different from the body, and sometimes it takes longer for it to recover. There is nothing wrong with that. You gave up everything for the people you loved."

"Because I had to," Aelin contradicts.

A hardness comes over Rowan, "because no one else could."

Rowan rolls over her body into a plank and looks deep into her eyes. "No one else that day would have made the same sacrifices out of love. Not even me. I was too selfish to let you go. You gave up everything, and by the strength in your soul, you came home to me. In all my decades, I have never met someone so remarkable, and I never will again. Take as many years as you need to recover, Aelin. This world owes a debt to you, and I will make sure it pays. You deserve every happiness."

His hand threads through one of hers and drags it up to rest on the bump between them.

Happiness.

Dell darts back into their room, a cup of tea sloshing in her hands as she runs. "Daddy, I put extra sugar in it. Uncle Fen is coming with more cups, but I made this one special."

Rowan pulls away from her, and the laughter on his face is contagious.  

Aelin smiles and accepts the tea from Dell's hands. She even manages a few sips without cringing from the sweetness. Fenrys follows behind her shortly and sets a fresh cup covertly on her bedside table.

There may be hard days, Aelin realizes as her family gathers around her, but the love they showed her every day made it all worth it.

[treybriggsthewriter]

This makes me nervous, but I’m going to post it. I’m going to try my best to achieve my goals. I’ve put in a ton of work already, so I’m looking for additional help. 

From the campaign:

My name is Trey Briggs, and I'm a black woman who writes paranormal horror, speculative fiction, and other types of fiction. You can find my stories at MaybeTrey , Astrid the Devil , and on Instagram , Medium , and Wattpad .

My stories are aimed at black people who want to read dark stories that focus on original black characters that are complex and interesting. I genuinely believe Black audiences deserve a variety of genres to delve into, and I want to introduce them to paranormal horror, dark romance, and fantasy that they haven't gotten enough of in the past. I also believe that this can be done across multiple mediums, and I spend my money with black creative professionals to make these experiences extend beyond my words. For the last two years, I've run my stories on sites and Instagram to great reception. I like to craft complex experiences that offer looks at character backgrounds, side and backstories, full websites for each title, and more. I also provide encyclopedias, maps, audio journals, and other ways to get into each world. During these last few years, I've run into a lot of walls, jumped a lot of hurdles, and tried my best. I've worked with amazing black artists, voice actors, and actresses, musicians, designers, and more. I trust my ability to run a project, especially when it comes to planning and finding talent. My overall goal is to run a team of black creatives that crafts novels, graphic novels, audio experiences, and animated series for a dedicated audience.

Why I Need Help Long story short: I have the skill, I have the marketing/website building/business experience, and I have the drive. There's a lot I can do on my own, but there's also a lot that gets left behind because I don't have the money I need to proceed at a steady pace. I need help with funding so I can focus, hire the right people, and craft these stories the way they deserve to be crafted. I have thus far spent over $60,000 of my own money on my projects over the past two years - the writing and site-building are easy for me; the rest has to be hired out. I have art, site costs for hosting, domains, templates, specific plugins, and maintenance, audio (and vocal artists to pay), musical, and editing costs. I'm by no means rich or even particularly financially stable. I have taken on tons of extra clients for my digital marketing business, transcribed hundreds of hours of audio for dirt cheap, and taken out personal loans. I even worked a second full-time job along with my full-time business last year to afford to produce the content I love. It's starting to take a toll on my mental health. I plan on continuing to fund these projects out of pocket (and finding ways to do so), but having financial help, however big or small, would allow me to move a lot faster and with less stress. It would let me flesh out ideas and concepts that I have had to scrap because I can only physically handle so much extra work. I run a full-time marketing business from home, homeschool my autistic 10-year-old, and generally have a busy life. Some of the strain is taking a toll on me, and I don't want to give up. Having some financial backing could allow me to drop a client or two after a few months and focus on the work I love to do.

How You Can Help I mainly need a start—a sort of base. I want to emphasize that I plan to continue to provide the main bulk of funding for my projects. I know my goals are ambitious, and I know each step will take time and money. I welcome any help to make the process smoother and to get around the initial hurdles. I'd like to have ebooks and novels offered on my site by the end of the year (along with the free serials and stories). Funding means that I can broaden the projects, include more free aspects to my sites, and secure direct financing through sales of ebooks and audiobooks sooner. It also means that I can offer MORE stories, whether they are online only or fully fleshed out novels and sites. I am swamped with trying to work enough to cover all my bills and creative projects, so I lose a lot of time I could spend plotting and writing. If I have better funding, I can get my stories out quicker (and with fewer mistakes).

The Initial Stories Let's talk about my stories! If you're familiar with my work already, you can skip to the next section. My main story site is Maybe Trey . Currently, I have two big titles and a bunch of smaller ones that I am seeking help with funding: Astrid the Devil

Astrid the Devil is the complicated story of a girl who inherits not only her family's features and DNA, but their fears, struggles, and fights. It's the story of a condition called Devil Syndrome, the women who suffer it, and the monsters that devour them. It's the story of the fight to save the people you love at the expense of innocent lives. At its core, Astrid the Devil is the story of a woman who inherits the chaos of three generations before her. It's a look at what is truly passed down to our children, and how they're left to fight our battles in the aftermath of our failures. It's the tale of an indescribable monster and the women who struggle to defeat it. It's a journey into how their every decision could save or destroy an entire world. Astrid the Devil is the story of Astrid Snow, but her story can't be told without the story of the women before her.

Vicious: On MaybeTrey  and The Vicious site (in progress)

Somewhere, a war is brewing.  That's the only thing that's for sure to Junnie Gorton, a young horned girl suffering from a debilitating disease called Horn Rot. She typically dealt with her low survival rate and abnormally large horns by escaping the world with her best friend, Lewish. Now she's forced to figure out which side is which, save her entire species, and find out the truth behind the sudden uprising in her home. Horn Rot, a highly contagious and violent disease spreading through horned people, is causing mass amounts of madness and death. Normal horns grow in ways that will pierce, suffocate, and maim their owners, and the only one who can stop it is Junnie's mother, Lyria. As Lyria falls deeper and deeper into an anti-social revolt, the country reels. While Junnie broods, her entire species must prepare for mass extinction. Her brother plots with a group of people with less than good intentions and Lewish is quieter than usual. In a civilization brought up on extreme violence and competition, Junnie and Lewish try their best not to get swallowed by their culture, their lives, or their horns.

Bunni and Bosque :

Bunni lives. Bosque dies. We all know how this story starts. Bunni is obsessed with destruction and death. She comes from the healthiest Horned family in her country. She's from the oldest, purest bloodline in the world. And she's bored with it. Bunni spends most of her time trying to escape her duties as a pureblood. She wants things dirty, messy, foul, inconsistent. Having parents that are willing to kill to keep their bloodline pure is annoying. Knowing that she'll live a long, full life, produce more perfect children, and die unscathed is agonizing. Bunni wants something to mourn. We all know how this story ends. Bosque is destined to die an agonizing death, alone on his family's land. He's watched everyone he loved and grew up with perish. Sometimes it was because of their disease. Sometimes it was because of the malice and hatred of others. While he's absolutely withdrawn and satisfied with his life, Bosque has never had a chance to live it. He spends his days basking in the sun, bathing in wood baths, and contemplating the end. Bosque isn't interested in joining the rest of the world. He'd rather die out, alone, where his family belonged. Bosque wants to go peacefully. But neither expected to meet each other one day in a supermarket. Neither expected to fall in love, lust, and every vicious and dirty thing between. Neither expected to be so right for each other, all while being wrong for everyone else. You know the end of this story. Bunni lives, Bosque dies. But maybe something will change.

My smaller titles, Bunni and Bosque /Aite and Jude, can be found at Maybe Trey .

The Business Plan

The initial phase of my business plan is to get the sites populated with ebooks and audiobooks for sale. I also have prints that can be sold. Right now, I am in the audience-building phase while I save up for editing the full novels. 

In terms of an actual business with which to publish the stories, I already have a registered publication company in Illinois: Wolfless Studios LLC. I took this step earlier this year with plans to self-publish Astrid and Vicious. So that is paid for and done.

I have also gotten initial editing done on the first six chapters of Astrid, though it will need to be edited from the beginning again once everything is said and done. I've spent over $1000 on that so far, and it would go a lot faster if I didn't need to save up to edit each chapter.

Astrid the Devil is fully plotted, outlined, and only needs the last three chapters. Bunni and Bosque and Vicious are newer, but plotted and already deep into character development (all being shared across social and Wattpad for audience growth). Aite and Jude and other shorts are plotted, and three other unshared stories are plotted and at the editing phase.

Other costs and ways I would use the funding (I would still put in my own money and do as much on my own as possible):

Initial $30K

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy edits for Astrid (currently at 250000+ words/expecting over 300000 at $0.02 rate)

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy Edits for Vicious

$3000 - $4000 Line and Copy Edits for Bunni and Bosque

ISBN Purchases (Separate ISBN for each format for each book) - https://www.myidentifiers.com/identify-protect-your-book/barcode

Covers for Astrid/Vicious/B&B Print Versions

Site Hosting Costs and Maintenance for 2 Years

Site completion for all stories

Initial store and app development

40K - Marketing and Graphic Novels

Social, Print, and Web ads

Email Marketing Campaigns 

Booths at Decatur Book Festival (depending on COVID)

Social ads and promos

50 to 60 pages

First two chapters offered as free promo with email sign-ups

Audio journals for each character

Situational audio journals

Encyclopedia for Astrid (finishing up)/Vicious

65K - Hires and Next Phases

Ability to hire a Full-Time Editor 

Audio Series for each (professionally done)

Vicious Graphic Novel

Additional Title Added

Short animations for both Vicious and Astrid (with plans to fund more with book sales)

Fleshed out Story Sections (Novellas for each character of each series)

Short comic series with Astrid and Vicious side characters

Possible to plan out monthly subscription service with new stories and 'story package' deliveries

75K -

Astrid the Devil Graphic Novel

Vicious Graphic Novel

Astrid the Devil Animated Short

Ability to hire part-time Web Developer

Additional bigger title

Anything Over - I ascend into pure light. And also, I can add titles, cover more mediums, and eventually expand my publishing to other black creatives.

From there, I should be able to handle the funding via sales of books, comics, audio, and more. Again, I will always offer mostly free content across the sites.

I believe in proof of concept, and I have diehard fans on my social platforms. With no outside funding, I've been able to a lot on my own. I'd love to expand my business into one that does the same for other black authors, artists, voice actors, and animators somewhere down the line. 

Thank you so much for your consideration. I appreciate all my readers, present and future, and I appreciate any help!

See incentives and more on the actual campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-trey-publish-black-paranormal-horror-stories

Thank you so much!

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

@loosingdreams@sayosdreams@audreycressworth@cyra04@that-golden-lyre@nessiantrashh@misswonderflower@dontgetsalmonella@caram267@bickbickbarnes@sabrinasam-blog

[sunlightandsuffering]

Corruption au Eren cockwarms mikasa once they’re together, he says ‘it helps him remember things’ and then every so often he gives her an orgasm just to keep her pliant against him while she plays with her boobs, he doesn’t do it in a cruel kind of way, it just he wants to pleasure her while doing his work

however when they’re not together, he’s such a sadist about it, he refuses to let her come even after he’s done his hw and is just fucking her, he always leaves when he’s done. Until one day when he starts feeling bad, he lets her come and it absolutely ruins him, he becomes obsessed with pleasuring her and seeing her face flushed pink, and hearing the needy sounds she makes and the quiet sighs, and the way her hands frantically move around until he Holds them together

STOP U GUYS KNOW ABOUT MY COCKWARMING OBSESSION STOP IT 😂😂 omg bless corruption Eren tho, this is my favourite kink for him, its so hot and it fits their situation perfectly.

It starts slow for Eren, to be honest he has no fucking idea when it really started. One day he'd been failing calculus, accepting he wasn't going to pass the year and thinking about maybe dealing drugs as a career path over his previous dreams of doctor. The next he was being forced to study three days out of the week with high school princess, Mikasa Ackerman.

At first he'd hated it, hated her really. He'd never been able to stand her, not since they were little and she'd chosen the dark side of Historia Reiss, bully and mean girl if there ever was one. Historia had sweet innocent baby Mikasa under her thumb. Mikasa followed her around like a dumb fucking puppy and Eren hated followers, they were all the same, no personalities, no aspirations of their own. She had no backbone either. She let all the shit Historia did slide, all the bullying, the holier than thou attitude because her family was richer than god. So very typical of the rich kids from the upper class neighbourhood. Eren would know, he used to be that rich kid, used to live that life. That was until his parents died in a brutal car accident, Zeke had inherited half the estate on the condition he'd take care of Eren and the rest was tied up in Eren's trust fund until he was twenty one.

Big surprise, no one had taken care of Eren and he was fucking lucky Armin and his grandpa had been there to help him out.

Everyone else, all his other 'friends' had given him the cold shoulder upon finding out he was no longer rich for the moment, he'd been dropped like a hot potato. So Eren's hatred of the upper class of Shiganshina had begun.

And Mikasa Ackerman was the pinnacle of it all, the worst the rich had to offer. She was beautiful, smart, loaded, had every opportunity in life, completely innocent and sweet, and the cherry on top of it all she volunteered on the weekend at the pound.

She disgusted him, so prim and proper and all around good girl while she was letting her 'friends' bully him for being poor, watching the injustice happen like a fish in a bowl.

He couldn't fucking stand her.

Of course, she would be the person who ended up tutoring him though, Principal Erwin mandating it if he wanted to graduate. So here he was sitting in the computer lab at five on a Wednesday watching her plump lips move as she explained integrals to him for the third time in an hour.

It's been a few months since they've started this little arrangement and he's gotten used to her presence. He wouldn't say he likes her, thats a stretch but he's not quite as cruel as he once was. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get a kick of watching that beautiful mouth part every time he does something mean though, those little gasps when he pinches her thigh or touches her where he shouldn't.

It's probably the highlight of these sessions.

Today he's feeling bold, maybe he'll push his luck. After all, he's done it before and she's never protested. For some reason or another Mikasa Ackerman has a soft spot for him, and no matter how mean, she lets him get away with murder. "Miki, come here I can't hear you properly." "And then you take the-what?" She looks up, pretty dove-grey eyes wide, sparkling as she explains her favourite subject, fucking math.

"You heard me, get over here." As usual, she takes orders so fucking well, it brings out the absolute worst in him. She's standing up and next to him in seconds and he's eye level with her perfect chest, those tits he dreams about every night, ripping her bra off with his teeth and sucking at those pretty pink nipples of hers. He's only seen them a few times, when he convinces her it's okay, when he's sure there's absolutely no one around, but they keep him awake at night. He pats his lap, grinning as she goes easily, settling into her favourite spot, he knows she loves it just as much as he does. Her thighs always shake and she shudders as his hands find their place cupping those beautiful creamy thighs, head tucked into her shoulder.

Mikasa starts talking again, beautiful lilt soothing him as she launches into a renewed explanation of integrals while his hands move up, up, up and to his absolute favourite spot, her panties. Today she's wearing cotton, he can feel it, must be laundry day and he kisses her shoulder as he feels how wet she is. Fucking perfect.

Lately she's been more partial to fancier underwear and he can't help but wonder if it's for him. He has a feeling it is, because the first month of their little arrangement he'd snuck as many peaks as they could and it was always pink or white cotton with polka dots and pretty bows. They were his favourite, so fucking innocent, so untouched by anyone but him.

He watches as she moves her pencil drawing lines and numbers, a little bit of the alphabet too and he ignores it all in favour of watching her chest, her breath hitch as he slides a finger inside her panties, feeling those velvet lips, it's been a while.

He's been on his best behaviour lately since Levi almost caught them at her house that one time, but he's horny and she's wet and he misses being inside her, misses watching her try to talk through him fucking her, how her voice would waver, change pitch. How many times she'd stumble through her sentences, have to start all over again, because she can't handle how big he is, doesn't know how to deal with the all-consuming sensation of him fucking deep within her walls, just sitting there filling her right up to her cervix.

Fuck.

He can't really be blamed for what he does next, and besides it doesn't matter, Eren's not a stupid kid, he allowed himself to get this far behind in calculus. He'd spent an hour last night going over integrals with the sole purpose of knowing what was going on today so he could fuck with his favourite toy.

He moves her a bit so she's resting more heavily on one thigh and slides his joggers and boxers down just enough expose his heavy cock to the air, already rock hard and waiting. Mikasa gasps a little bit, a breathy sound quick and sharp as she sees him, her eyes transfixed on his dick and he grins, sliding her panties to the side and slamming her down on him before she even knows what hit her. The slide is so fucking easy too, it takes almost nothing and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction that even with little to no prep she can take him, probably better than anyone else he's ever fucked. She takes it all no complaints, as deep as she can and he bottoms out.

She lets out a long moan, that pretty sound he wants to record and listen to on his phone over and over again, her head lolling back uselessly against his shoulder as she takes in the sensation.

"Miki baby you know this helps me remember better right, sorry it just wasn't getting through my head I was too distracted, but now I'm all ears, why don't you continue. What's that rule you were talking about, how are derivatives and integrals related again baby, they're opposites?"

She's breathing quick and Eren doesn't blame her, he's struggling to keep his tone level as her walls squeeze him, warm and soft and he wants to stay buried there forever, she's so fucking tight.

"I-Eren-I-yeah, opposites," she finally manages to get the last word out ending a little broken as she struggles to sit up and make herself comfortable on his cock, she should be used to it by now with how often he does this, but it never fails she always reacts like she's taking him for the first time all over again. He fucking loves it.

"Why don't you explain again baby, I don't think I really understand? And make sure you're clear Mikasa." She nods, still squirming around, every movement shooting electricity up through both of them as she accidentally grinds down, she lets out an involuntary moan and Eren smirks.

Eren takes it upon himself to move her up and off his cock a few inches before impaling her back down, biting down on her neck a little bit as punishment and she whines, teeth coming out to bite down on her lip brutally as she tries to keep quiet.

"Stop moving baby, you're distracting me, just take my cock like a good girl and explain for me yeah?" She replies brokenly her voice soft and struggling with her breaths, "Yeah."