#summer rose kin

[fairytalefragments]

🥀 | SUMMER ROSE

— icons for anonymous ; like/rb if using

[annacory-blog]

Dance or die

I fell in love with another fic by @ulysses000 and then Spotify provided me with a perfect song. I had to draw them to exorcise that image from my head.

As per tradition - below is my attempt in translation. I want to make complete translation so badly (this is probably one third)! I believe this story deserves more attention. But can some kind English speaker confirm it is readable???

Love this fic specially from WoD perspective, it cultivates such delicious feeling of emptiness. And while technically, it has a happy end, you can not get rid of bitter taste of loss. Their requiem is not life, and there no way back. All is gone!

—————————————————-

Music stops abruptly. The dancefloor is silent, mob looks around in bewilderment. All eyes are focused on a flimsy, dirty stage. There, litten by sophites, stands brunette, cladded in a black robe. Calmly she re-adjusts many necklaces and bracelets, adorning her bosom and wrists. She checks microphone, softly tapping it with elegant finger, nonplussed by screeching sound it makes or the yells thrown her way from down the stage. For a while she silently stares in the drunk faces below, until eventually rowdy voices are reduced to quiet, unhappy mumble in the back rows.

-"What would you like to say, before the end of the world?"

-"Go fuck yourself!" - someone yells back from the crowd. Brunette’s smiles softly. Her blue eyes sparkle. This sight will be their last before headless body collapses to the floor.

View from the stage is absolutely terrific. It reminds of a late spring evening in the mansion by the sea. Bodies sway in panic, almost as grass would in a lush fields. Writings on the wall glitter with red as if they were remnants of the sunset caught in clouds. Screams - voices of seagulls. Sweet aroma that spreads across the room reminds of freshly brewed Irish coffee. Eyes locked on the bright fountains. Droplets shimmer in the air with a multitude of colour. Content. Do not argue with Mother. It is a simple rule every kid should know. Because, no matter how kind, gentle and understanding Mother is, she is not all sweets and praises. She also has an iron glove to treat the unruly child. Anyone who dares to confront her will surely drown in their own blood.

-"Now, dance or die."

Music never heard in this walls engulfs space. Stirring voice of the violin is echoed by screams, cello is perfectly complimented by heart-rending howls. Robin is not at all surprised by this harmony of cries and choir chanting. Clocks have just reached zero and this means, time for celebration has finally come. Perfect night to forge a timeless bond between the beloved child and the dear friend. Trafalgar stands on the stage, as if he always was there. Pity no one minds what is happening in the spotlight. He looks tidier than usual, ceremonial. Shirt, tie, three piece suit, shoes - all in various shades of black, all fitted perfectly. His gaze briefly stops on the couple of cadavers lying by the stage, then moves to the brunette.

-"Playing with food, aren’t we?"

-"Tarao, symbolism never was one of your strengths." - She smiles softly and shakes her head, - "Don’t try to grasp, what is beyond you. Just think of it as a cog in the well oiled machine."

Flowers on wreath along the walls move, as if troubled by the gust of wind, candle lights flicker, and blond man appears by Robin’s side. Sanji fiddles with the hem of his suit anxiously, fixes invisible wrinkles on the bouquet wrap. Trafalgar thought he put more than enough efforts to look decent tonight, however he wouldn’t stand a chance if this was a competition. Sanji's clan has been know for this aura of perfection, but even among his kin - he is special. Where the rest emmit light of the full moon, Sanji’s light would blind you as hot summer sun in zenith. He holds ten white roses - stark contract against his black suit. Pale of petals resonates with pale of the skin, highlights the gold of his hair. Trafalgar cannot possibly look away and no disciplines are to blame for this magic. Little smile slips from under his control “this is beautiful” he thinks.

-"Sorry for being late" - blond tuck one long golden lock behind the ear. Eyes drift towards the dance floor, but do not linger there. Woman chuckles softly - so innocent.

-"I was worried you made your escape."

-"Please, don’t ruin the moment" - gaze of his blue eyes seems to be glued to the wooden planks of the stage, then he looks up, eyes meet with Robin’s.

They nod, almost simultaneously, and only after Sanji musters enough of courage to look to the other man. His gaze shamelessly devours all the minute details he can grasp, it is hard to tell, if he desperately tries to avert attention from the bloodbath on the dance floor, or genuinely admires the sight. Trafalgar thinks he would be happy with both reasonings. Laws lips move soundlessly forming few words. Sanji chuckles and replies in the same manner: “you too, idiot”.

-"Ladies and Gentlemen." - maybe a dozen of eyes flicker back in response to sweet, calm voice of the woman. Short break taken from tormenting the flesh, generously soaked with blood and tears. Bodies contort with the fear for their life. - "Tonight, before the Dark Mother’s eyes, souls of two cursed sons of hers will be united. Every kindred present here shall witness the making of endless, mutual death." - her eyes run across the dance floor, reading the mood of the guests. - "the Vinculum should not be broken. Anyone who dares an attempt to weaken the bond will be hunted by The Circle of the Crone," - she looks for a moment into particularly dark corner - "as well as by our brothers and sisters from Ordo Dracul."

Her gaze shifts to the dark haired man, waiting for him to return the attention.

-"Now you can speak your vows."

Trafalgar makes a step forward, reaches to touch cold pale fingers, swallows heavily before he starts to speak.

-"I, Trafalgar D Water Law, hereby take Vinsmoke Sanji into my Requiem forever." - envelops his hand gently and carefully - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor. When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Sanji chuckles quite and bright - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking." - He squints, eyes slit, as if targeted by bright lamp. - "When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort, and when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance." - Cool fingers caress back side of the hand. - "This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

In his blue eyes flashing light reflects, candles burning twice as bright with the last spoken words. Law squises cold hand, trying to reassure, give comfort, prevent flashes from setting kindred's mind aflame.

-"I, Vinsmoke Sanji, hereby take Trafalgar D Water Law into my Requiem forever." - his voice sweetest thing that ever touched ears, in both life and un-life, - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor." - His fleeting touch playfully skims through tan fingers, icy sensation brings sober clarity and bliss of inebriation at the same time. - "When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Law’s smile is barely there. - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking. When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort," - he is the most gentle and kindhearted, so much is obvious in every syllable of every word. - "And when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance. This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

Sanji’s hold on the hand gets firmer as he expects another rise of firy glow to radiate the room. Little girl steps forward from behind the stage, she is silent and obedient. So small, seven years at most, her deep chocolate eyes glazed with indifference, strawberry blond hair braided in two pig tales, white gown hugs fragile figure. She stares ahead absently, woman’s hands leading her by shoulders.

-"Time to make the sacrifice." - hand outstretched to pass the ritual knife. Fingers gently support ragged blade.

Trafalgar feels how kindred’s claws pierce his skin. He might have broken few bones, if older wouldn’t strengthen his grip in response. It is heard for Sanji. This is easily seen, his eyes shift frantically, his lips stripped of smile and crooked. Even his touch feels colder than before. He never have taken the life of a sentient being. Even in death Sanji remained pure, his hands and soul unmarred by murder of mortals. Law knows other is hurting, in his eyes this child is seen as a spit image of the older sister. Trafalgar himself lost in the shattered memories for a moment. Girl reminds his late sister, who died too young too long ago. Despite that he knows he will have enough resolve to put this innocent child to rest, as she obediently waits for her own demise.

This is essential part for the completion of the ritual. Sanji knows it. This is not news, but he can’t keep his long dead heart from burning and spasming disgusted by creeping acceptance. He was the one who proposed marriage. He organized most of the celebration. He thought about it many times, about this particular moment he has to take someone’s life, scenario played in his head on repeat. But it is not something you can be prepared for. This is wedding. They are about to enter mutual un-life, their souls are to be bound for the eternal death, forfeiting innocence, killing personification of their past. Together.

His hand is shaking, but Sanji hides it, only grip on the hilt gets stronger. Her face is gentle and soft, with neat childish features, but her eyes are dead already, trapped under Mother’s hypnotic influence. Embroidery on the gown matches hair colour. She looks like a little princess. Sanji forgets to imitate the leaving, his thorax freezes mid inhale, mechanical movement abandoned. He thought he would be able to do it, to confront the past, to kill for the sake of something new, for the sake of future. But this first step is terrifying. All his being is trapped, Staring in the eyes of the Beast, unable to move. Sanji doesn’t want to lose his humanity, he is afraid to slip, to get comfortable with the idea of supremacy over humans, his own strength, his right to take life. Few months in his death, as soon as fog of newly obtained supernatural powers thinned, allowing him to think clearly again, he made a decision to give his all to keep whatever “human” have left in this damned shell of the body. Once he got accustomed with business run by The Circle of the Crone, he found plenty of friends in each and every city morgues and knew without failure when fresh carcasses were delivered to local butcheries. When ritual required freshly drawn blood he used his own vite with no second thought. And now all workarounds are closed, blocked by unmovable boulders. Only one way ahead.

-"We are both dead. It’s not going to get any worse." His whisper is scolding hot against the skin, it reminds to expand lungs, air forced in with fake inhale. Warm palm touches softly, fingers carefully wrap around the hand that holds the hilt, the touch reassures, hand redirected slightly - outward and up.

-"Beheading is better."

For once Sanji is genuinely grateful that Trafalgar never listens and reads his thoughts at any given moment. -"One." He angles cutting edge . -"Two." Skin is burning hot -"Three." Thud. Mortal dread frozen in the eyes of the dead girl.

_________________________

And song that was a catalyst for all the efforts

[searchingforserendipity25]

The Eagle's Share

Tw: hunting and animal sacrifice.

Inspired by the incredible Fingon&Eagles relationship in Not In Vain by @polutrope!

-

In Barad Eithel celebrations were held in the middle of every bitter winter, a proud chasing away of the bitter frost Fingolfin's people so loathed.

There were dances, sparring games, and great hunts. Lalwen lead a masking ritual, a time of portents and heady magics; Fingolfin-king poured the mead and the wine, and passed to every cupped palm their due bold of miruvor he had brewed all summer, to each were given their due words of praise and courage.

He spoke and shone as once he had amidst the spluttering fires, a small animal in the Darkening calling to himself a hard, a pack to weather the long night within greater warmth.

Well-loved he was, Fingolfin of the Noldor; to him none were truer than the eldest of his sons, whose bowl was ever poured last, that it should be known the king favoured not his own blood unduly.

But Fingon went by himself, on the darkest nights before the lengthening of the days: and did not return until he had slain a great elk-of-the-woods, or a mad-eyed bear mother, and left the upon the highest peak for the eagles and falcons and ravens to feast upon.

Afterwards he joined the feasting, singing and harping as he went, at that hour when a grey light started to gleam dully to the East; and the music changed, the drums quickened into lighter reels, treacherous leaping staff-on-staff dances. He wore ribbons of goldcloth embroidered with copper in his hair, and about his neck necklaces with eagle feathers - long and sleek and just as golden.

The Great Eagles came not among the Eldar then, but to involve themselves in rare and dire matters; but some of them begot lesser creatures among their wild kin, and it was from such a strain that Fingon raised, and tended, and trained many a generation of bold hunting kestrels, amber-eyed falcons - even some rare grave and little-tamed eagles.

In the back of his aiming hand he inked an eagle, wings spread and proud. It had been the way of mourning in the Ice, when one died, and the body could not be buried; Fingolfin's grave never was seen by Fingolfin's heir.

Still the blood-price must be paid. Fingon went, and brought down his greatest beast yet, a woollen mammoth thick enough to feed a company for the march.

He left it to the wise birds of the realm. The blood gleamed red and slick on the snow, the viscera steaming enough to make his mouth water. As ever he gave them his thanks, begged their pity, praised the glory of their free flight, their hungering defiance, even as Morgoth made foul and weak so much of the land and the land's beasts.

Alone under the judging stars he wept, as he had not yet; a great grief was on him, and a will for revenge. Above all he denied Morgoth's design, that would wipe clean the skies and the earth, till all creatures were his servants, and no honor or memory of good deeds remained alive.

The birds came to feed. They fought among themselves at times, as was their way; yet they were solemn in their devouring, determined as they bit the meat out of the bone and bared it.

Their many eyes were in the night of nights a light of their own, ancient; and their cawing and their calling was insistent, even after all had fed - insistent for blood and vengeance, fierce and fierce enough to tear the silence in many halves. It made the white hills and the high firs tremble with urgency; Fingon's voice too rose, at last, and joined their defiance.

In the dark before a slow dawn rose, he started making ready for war.

The feasting changed with Fingolfin's end, ever less a celebration, more the smothering thrill that gathered, storm-like, in the hearts of the Eldar before a battle. His vassals came more often and from further, to deepen their counsels of war under the guise of a common visit, the trading of winter-gifts made anew into a deep renewal of vows.

Through great gates they went, marveling at the strength and beauty of the fortifications of the Noldor, and in the king's great chamber they bent over his left hand in greeting, that Fingon might clasp their necks and touch their cheeks in welcome.

But Maedhros of Himring alone kneeled at his feet and kissed the tattoo through the king's hawking gloves, his own cleaved right arm pressed against his heart.

So it was in Barad Eithel, that valiant realm, before the walls were broken, when the wild wings of Beleriand were revered.

[ask-the-critters-survival-au]

Static sings from the monitor... before growing into a hiss the digs into the minds of all of the children bound to this connection- a certain bird most of all.

"̸̭̐C̴͖͚͌h̵͎̍í̷͎͓ḽ̷͕̃d̶̢̟̚͠.̵̳̓.̴̧̰͛̉.̷͍̏"̷̗̍

̸̣͖̈"̴̯̭͒̓Y̷͇̓ͅö̵́ͅǘ̴̟̊ ̴͕͋̄s̶͓̀h̸̝̅̿ȍ̸̪̦u̷̻̹͑͊l̴̦͈̍d̵̛̮̪̀n̷̟̏̅'̵̨̬̆͐ẗ̵͎̣́̏ ̷̗͈̐h̷̲̺̆a̴̤̾̅v̶̪̟̄ë̷̙̫́͠ ̸͓͓̈̍d̴̓̿ͅo̶̤̙̓͑n̵͓̄͜͠e̵̦̓̆ ̶̬̈t̷̹̠́̃h̵͕͛a̵͉̤͂̇t̶̬̂̎.̸̙͂"̸͙̲̐

The monitor grows hot in a rapid flash, burning and melting and charring all it touches as anger radiates like burning summer rays- clashing into the bodies of those around it.

A false calm tone comes from the being from beyond as they shift their attention to Crafty, yet their voice still reaching all of the children.

"Crafty- Winter-rose that you are... I intend to fulfill my promise to return your arms to you should you find a suitable victim that may be not be your current company... But I am saddened that you would risk your safety by going alone. I understand Bobby wished to not allow it- but risking yourself in such a way... please do not do it again. Your safety matters most."

"But I want your promise- that you won't hurt Bobby or Hoppy once your arms return child... Bubba as well due to his current condition. We will see if Picky and Kickin are allowed that same luxury soon enough."

"Ah and Bobby- please do be quick with Crafty... she doesn't seem to be in danger but her arms are still bleeding- that has to be taken care of before anything else... apologies if you hear this next part child."

...

A pause, a breath, a second passes by...

Before this entity's anger falls solely upon the feathered child- like a pointed danger to the heart. Digging, maiming, marking- At what this boy dares to bring this connection too. Slowly the screen shifts from soft blue to red as the voice speaks aloud their distaste at this delusional dream of this ignorant child.

"You... intend to bring us to the prototype- trade us and your kin- your fellow star for a soul who has been tormented and scared- with no guarantee of success or Hoppy's survival?"

"You assume you will be allowed to act upon this desire? To risk her life for a dream that all logic points to failing?"

"You belief that we will allow that? That I will allow that?"

"My oath still stands child, to see you all free and mended- free of this tragedy and obtain reclamation of your lives- but I will not stand for this. I will not allow you to sentence Hoppy to death when other paths exists! That Dogday can be saved without her demise!"

"̶͖̭̇͘T̴͈̭̹̽̈̄h̶̡̻̀̓͆e̶͉͕̯̊ ̵̳͖͎͛̽͠r̶͕̰̉̌ư̸͔̌͜l̷͈͗̃̋e̸̳̾͛̍s̶̠͓̙̍ ̵͍̫̈́͝t̶̡̛̪̿́h̵̛̞̙̟͝a̵̩̔t̸̺͚̩̐ ̸̟̒̔͒b̶̨̤̟̐̈́̚ȋ̵̧̏̽n̸̺̩͂̅d̵̩͝ ̴̥̫̟͘͘ṵ̸̳̄͊̀s̷̺̹͖̑-̸̘̞̠͗͋̿ ̸̥̆̚w̶̟̙̍̚h̶̥̦̔̏͜í̷̱̪͎̎ḷ̷͓͝ë̵̑̋͜ ̷̯̻͗t̷̥͙͚̏h̶̃̊̑ͅe̷̡͒͛̚y̷͈̭̽ ̶̤̹̗̿̓͛p̶̖̲͐r̷̘̳͚̓̃̒e̶̲̿̔v̵͓̍́́e̷̮͎͝ͅn̶͓̦̺͐̋ṫ̵͖̱̝̏̍ ̷͓̼̈́̉͘m̷͓̒̃͘e̶̠͆ ̴̯̯̍̃f̶̬͘r̷̊̓̉͜ơ̷̮̠m̸͕̰̕ ̵͕̆s̴͍̳̈́͑͛ț̶̯͋͠o̷̯̾p̶̥̈́͌͠p̵̞͒̈́i̷̗̖̳̐n̴̘̰̲̆̒́g̸̻̲͙̓̓ ̵͔̲͚̀ţ̸̛̘̓h̸͎̞͉̅͝i̸̩͈̍͒̑s̸̳̱̞̐ ̸̻͆̓d̶̤̻͔̂i̴͇̓ȓ̴͓é̶̡c̶̢̬͂̾̑t̸̙̋͘ļ̵̼̿̂́y̶̱͒͋͊-̸̩͑̋͊ ̴̩͈͇͂̃̀ẃ̸͕̊͝e̸͔̋l̵͇̺̏l̶̬̀ ̴̡̢̗͑̊͘m̸̯͌̆y̶̡̡͚͐̄̅ ̶̩̈́́̽f̷̩̫̽͒̌e̴̠̣͕̐̃͂l̵̦̈́͑͑l̵̢̗̩̏̈͗ò̶̬̐̓w̸̼͌̿̕s̵̜̝̐̄ ̸̭͓͓̊̒h̵̯̥̿a̴̱͑̓v̶͙̭̀̈̅ẽ̵͉̼̮ ̷̼̖̆g̸͙̱͂͋r̴̺̠͓̀͘͝o̸̺̎̄͜ͅẉ̴̝́ņ̴̽ ̴̢̛͙m̷̙͌̒̂o̸͂͒͜͝r̴̬̙̎͊̕ẹ̸̬͚͛ ̵̖̟͍̆b̵̙̲̯͋̾̅o̴̦͚͉͑l̵͙̿͒̅d̸̖̖̰͗̓ ̶̲͌ḁ̶͝ǹ̷͎̆̊d̶͔̿ ̵͈̀̃͠c̸̛̦̘͍ŕ̵̦͗̽e̷͕̞̤̎̏͘ȃ̴̤̂̆ẗ̶̬́i̴͖͇̺̓̊͒v̵̼̎́͌ë̴̗̄̚.̷̗̰̉.̵̥̲͙̿.̵̫̠̃̏ ̵͇̱̿s̶͎͋̊ô̵̡̫̖͑ ̷̡̲͈̓w̸̹͔̦͐̽͘ḫ̵̰͊͜ȳ̶̺͖̔̒ͅ ̴̮̎̌͘͜ẃ̵̦̳̊͌ͅö̷̪́u̸͈͉̔l̶̻̅̊d̴̘͌̃ ̴̰̬̿͘I̵̻͌̚ ̵͔͇̒̇͝n̵̩͖̬̒̓́ö̷͇̲t̶̹͈̾͜ ̴̟͂t̸̠̘̲́̅̕a̵̜̝͆̅͌k̷̠̚e̴̮͖̭̾ ̵̥͆̒͝t̴̟̀̔̕h̶̼̐͐͋e̶͎̥̿ ̷͖̬̄̕o̴̢͘p̸̄̆͝ͅp̸͙̥̞̿̊̉ó̴̢̥r̵͑͛ͅt̵̟͛̐ǘ̶̲̒̑n̵̩̱̽̔͠i̵̧̹̳̋́̒t̷͖̙̑̒͗y̵̠͉̿͘ ̴̜̌͂͋ͅṭ̴͠ò̷̤ ̵̥̀̓̀ḍ̶̩͙̽o̵̥̽̏ ̵̪͉̿ţ̵̭̦̈́̽h̶̫͙̭̆e̸̳̍ ̵̟̝̂̎s̴̢̬̟̋͑̔a̸̰̔m̵̯̝̆ȩ̶̹͕̀?̸̢͚̆͛́ ̵̞̭̽͐ͅT̷͎̊́͋o̶̖̦̽̋ ̴̥̪̅p̷̡̰̝̌ȓ̷͇͒̀ĕ̷̳͎̈́͝v̴̲͔̄̍ẹ̴͎̞̒ṋ̵͖̥͛͗t̷̥̄͑̚ ̷̢̥͔̒t̴̥̘́͊h̷̤̔͐i̵̧̎͛ṧ̴̮̣ ̷̜͍̈̑̎ͅh̸̯͇̟͑̾͂o̷̢̦͛̄r̷͖̟̄̕͝r̵̛̜̗̥̅̈́i̶͎̬̊̽͆b̵̟̍̅l̴̻̝̓̈̈ẹ̷́͝ ̷̘̜̄́m̷̬̙̗͆ĩ̸̢̹̻̓͆s̷͎͉̄ẗ̸͓́͒́ä̶̫́̋k̵̟̉̽è̵̻̲̰ ̵͚̌y̶̱̯̣̒̇̄õ̸̍͝ͅu̶͔͓͛ ̸̻̟͆͗̃ǎ̵̫̹͜r̷͎̦̿̈́e̴̛̘͎͂̀ ̸̱̇á̸͕͎̥͛t̶̻̂̆͛t̶͇̒͊̆e̷̛̳m̵̖̾̑͌p̸͎̞͕͠t̷̩̀i̶͓͍̼̎̆n̶͖̱̿g̴̰̟̳̅͠ ̴̠̤̓͑̎t̴͚̮̝̒o̸̯͊ ̴̛̳̃͛͜m̶̮̀͊͝a̵̛̯̐ͅk̷̢͔̿̉͠ȩ̸̱̄-̶͍̪͕͠͝"̸͔͇̈́̓

"Hoppy... Shall we make a Deal?"

I’m sorry. Bobby just wouldn’t let me so I had to! But I swear I won’t hurt them! I’d never hurt them! They’re my friends!

Are the voices being nice to you?

Yeah.

Good! Now hold still, Mommy doesn’t want to cut you by accident!

YES! YES, PLEASE-

NO! You make any kind of deal with them, and you’re dead.

You wouldn’t. You’re too much of a coward.

Is that really something you want to risk?

…I hate you.

I-…I can live with that.

[m1ndbrand]

ānogar hen issa ānogar - blood of my blood

Summary: What happens when you betray your family - your kin? Genevere Targaryen was about to find out.

Warning(s): pure angst, tragedy, death of essential characters, Shakespearian-like(warning in itself) kinda gothic ngl; i'm sorry

The sounds of metal clashing mixed with screams and wails echoed from the walls of the Red Keep, women, men, children, no one spared, the gods weren't merciful tonight.

The soldiers run to each chamber in the castle, entering without any ceremony and killing anyone in sight. One of those soldiers was different.

Silver hair glistened and moved like liquid in the moonlight, some trails of red ran free down his sword and armour. His face was hidden of emotion like he was made of marble, a statue, calm and serene without any flaw, but he did borough one flaw, at least for him - his eye, or the insistence of it, slashed with brutality, the maimed prince, the One Eye prince in all his glory.

This eye, however, showed everything his face didn't - a beautiful violet, burning with hatred and rage.

If not for the slaughter happening, this would be considered an ethereal scene fit for a Renaissance painting, a beautiful knight, with white hair and purple eyes, the perfect picture of a pure Valyrian, dressed with ornamented armour showing his blood and status.

He did not stop to look around, his steps firm and direct, his eye never moving from its target - locked in - he knew where to find her.

And he did. 

Standing still without making any noise he looks at her through the slightly open door, hugging her children that were bawling their eyes out. If looking close enough there was possible to see the sadness emerging from within his eye, but it was short-lived.

She rose away from the children and quickly, without him noticing, gives behind her back a goblet filled with some liquid to the children that were hiding them behind her form.

"Aemond"

He immediately looks into her eyes - he swears to the seven gods that he could still feel the summer wind on his face, a trace of a smile, trying not to giggle as they flew together, their tiny bodies glued together.

"Genavene"

She purses her lips together and feels her heart race, this time was different than the others, it was racing because of the fear of the inevitable, fear for her children. He takes a step forward and she shrinks a little but still stands tall.

Looking back at her children with glassy eyes she faces the silver-haired man again, with more posture, and her back straightens.

She could see the disgust on his face when he looked at the two children. The brown-haired little girl held her brother's hand like it was the last strawberry cake on the tray she loved so much like her mother, and the silver-haired little boy just kept crying as he finished the drink his mother gave him.

"You really think you could get away, sister" His words spat like pure venom. "He isn't even here, left you and your spawn at our mercy".

Toying with his sword back and forth he looks at the children that hide crying louder behind the woman. "let me just tell you dear sister - I'm no god, I have no mercy."

"Brother...please listen I-" his eye twitch and he lashes "Brother? Brother?! You don't even have the right to call me that!" The children start to cry even louder, scared by their uncle's wrath, they grab their mother's dress for dear life.

"You thought you could get away with betraying your family - your kin like that, bloody witch" he comes closer to the woman that just stares at him without moving an inch, his hand draws closer to her face and she gets ready for a slap. Instead, she feels his hand on her brown hair.

"Where did that child get the Targaryen hair, uh?" he twirls the lock on his finger "", it wasn't from your dear husband that - I'm sure of" snorting he looks at the little boy that still holds his mother's dress. Purple meets purple and for a second it's like he's looking at the past, in his chamber, trying new robes his mother made one of the best tailors on Essos to make for him, his reflection of complete boredom reflected on the mirror stares back at him.

His eye widened for a second as he finally understood.

Horrified, he looks at his sister and she is not meeting his eye, instead, she's looking at the empty goblet on the ground. He drops his sword and moves quickly to pick the goblet up. Smelling it just a little makes him immediately throw it away smashing something in its way.

Grabbing his sister's shoulders he desperately tries to meet her eyes, but she continues to look away from him, head down and defeated.

"No, Genavere please," he moves to catch her face, trying to catch her attention "please talk to me" his hands move to her face holding her to him, she finally meets his face, her eyes falling like she's about to fall asleep.

He's met with a minute of silence, waiting for her, for something, he didn't want to believe, he couldn't. The silence was too loud now and he finally looks at the twins. Both were on the ground, apparently sleeping, with their hands still united, the shock made him not listen to anything at all, not even the screams outside the room.

Kneeling he grabs the face of Visenya, he comes closer to hear her breathing - but there is none.

Swallowing a whimper that threatens to escape his mouth he goes to Baelon and checks for the boys breathing and nothing. The children were gone.

He stares at the two children, Visenya even as a child, could be seen that she was, in fact, her mother's child, the only difference was her purple eyes, Targaryen's eyes - definitely not that man's child - Baelon, the spitting image of him when he was little, even to the cry baby nature of him "no"

"Genavere" Aemond was kneeling close to the children, their children, looking at the woman he loved for so many years, waiting for at least a word from her.

She turns to him, agonizingly slow, and he screams for her to say something - anything! That it was a lie, that she did in fact betray their family, she betrayed him, that he was right to have done all those things to her and her children, that he didn't make her kill their children.

The only thing she did was close her eyes one final time and fall to the ground, a tiny whisper of his name went unnoticed.

Minutes passed and he was still looking at where her form was supposed to be standing. His face felt cold with stray tears, his eye unfocused looking at everything and at anything at the same time. Not thinking and thinking too much. His mind was in shambles.

He looks at their children and then finally at the mother of his children and he breaks down. Crawling to her he held her head carefully with his hands and got her body close to his, hugging her one last time, wailing at her hair, his face hidden, he looks at their children dead on the floor and he feels like the Stranger was at the window, waiting for him.

It is said that the place after all that massacre was cursed, the wails, and screams of Aemond Targaryen could be heard even after 100 years have passed, his soul trapped in the walls, fated to relieve that cursed day over and over again. He, calling his dragon Vhagar, screams Dracarys, killing himself as he burns the bodies of his family, as is the tradition of old Valyria.

There were whispers that Genevere was a witch, and before she took her last breath, she cursed his soul for all eternity. Their story is now a myth and a ghost story for all the little children in Westeros, of a father who, without knowing, kills his children and the woman he loved so deeply.

[trshtffc]

You're Tarquin´s bride

You stride confidently down the aisle, your head high to allow the gazes of the reunited guests. The Summer sun crowns you with the reflexes of the gold you wear all over yourself, displaying the wealth of your court.

Lords, ladies, princes, and High Lords look upon you, and you know what they see, the unlikely bride, the water nymphs dancing before you, scattering heather before your bare feet, the high fae holding the hem of your dress, dryads and urisks accompanying you in procession, singing beautifully enough to evoke a few sobs from the attendants. A united court.

The court you're building together. You see Tarquin waiting for you at the altar, the sun turning his braids to a platinum that complimented the gold of his crown, eyes the color of the ocean beckoning you. If it wasn't for the dancing nymphs blocking your path, you're not sure you'd be able to keep from running to him, your High Lord, friend and lover.

How long had it taken the two of you to get here? How many dusks when you'd find him on the deck of his private ship, brooding at the sunset, and the two of you would just talk for hours on end?

Some nights he'd share the burden of ruling, the politics he wanted to implement, the maneuvering around a prejudiced noble class unwilling to compromise, and after a while you started chiming in with ideas of your own.

Some nights you'd just make him laugh, and that would be enough. Either way, you'd be gone when the sun rose.

The night you didn't show up, he came looking for you. It had been a shock, you remembered your folk gathering around, astounded to see a High Lord in their domains for the first time in so long. There had been a complication with your nephew´s birth, and, before you knew, Tarquin was swimming back and forth, fetching healers and remedies.

He scolded you later for not telling him how much your people were in need of. He had shared his troubles with you, hadn't he? Why didn't you do the same? Didn't you trust him? What if the other High Lords had never cared about the Merfolk, he wasn't the other High Lords, he thought you knew him better than that.

He accepted your apologies, and from that day on you were appointed Secretary for Merfolk Matters.

The high priestess behind Tarquin is also one of you, your kin watches from the water that surrounds the platform built specially for your wedding, a literal and symbolic bridge between land and sea.

"Welcome, all children of land and of the waters." She starts, but you can't pry your eyes off of Tarquin.

He stands tall, and, for once, his title doesn't seem to weight on him, despite the imposing crown. His broad shoulders are squared back in a relaxed way, like when it's just the two of you on the deck and you sing for him, or when it´s just the two of you in his cabin, and he sits sprawled on the chair and you go on your knees to make him sing for you.

He´s such a musical lover.

"Daughter of the waters, do you willingly tie the currents of your life to those of this son of Land?"

"I do."

His smile widens enough that it forms dimples in his cheeks, the perfect white teeth stark against the full dark lips that have learned every inch of your body in both water and land forms.

Tarquin likes to kiss. Especially, he likes to kiss you. Everywhere.

He tips his head slightly to the side, a mischievous gleam in the clear waters of his eyes, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking of.

"Son of the dry land, do you willingly surrender your fate to that of this daughter of waters?"

"I do." His voice booms, carried by the ocean wind, and the priestess hands you the knife.

One prick to the finger and the blood forms a shiny red drop on the tip. It feels almost too erotic to do in public, but you offer your blood to the High Lord, swallowing to keep back from shuddering at the flicker of his hot tongue.

He drew his finger so lightly over your lower lip it could have been an accident, but you knew that look in his eyes too well to believe that.

"By the power bestowed upon me by the Mother, I now declare you married."

Cheers explode as the two of you kiss for perhaps a bit too long, and Princess Cresseida steps forward, the crown atop a silk pillow in a shell, smiling even as she reprimands the two of you with a look of her beautiful brown eyes.

Tarquin takes the cresting waves of gold in his hand. It's a perfect copy of his own crown, another message for all courts of Prythian.

"I, Tarquin, High Lord of Summer, take this mermaid to be my High Lady, my equal in every way, to rule our court by my side, or in my stead, if the day should come." You bow your head for him to place the crown, as rehearsed, and feel the weight and the hot metal on your brow. The thought makes you smile, that no one had considered shielding the crown from the sun all this time "You'll sit on the throne, wear the crown, sign the laws." Tarquin places a finger under your chin, lifting your head in a gesture that felt more intimate than even the blood sharing "And you will bow to no one."

You turn to face the gathered crowd, all of them bowing their heads to you, except for the High Lords themselves. High Lady Feyre, who has clearly been overserved, is cheering, and from the waters the blowing of a shell drowns the smaller sound.

"You may rise." You hear your voice echoing in the afternotes of the shell, gentle, yet commanding.

The bowed heads lift to glance at you. Your hand finds Tarquin´s without you needing to look down, and you know he sees the same as you see, a colourful court of all races of fae, where all voices are heard and love is greater than the old divisions. The court you are building together.

You've made it, the two of you. You're Tarquin´s wife.

[notealotgoingon]

2023 Bullet Journal Cover & Lists

- movies - books - physical music stickers

(typed list below cut)

Movies

X (2022) ★★★★★ 1/9

Pearl (2022) ★★★★★ 1/10

Jason X (2001) ★★★ 1/17

X (2022) ★★★★★ 1/26

Pearl (2022) ★★★★★ 2/11

Rosemary's Baby (1968) ★★★★★ 2/11

Harley Quinn: A Very Problematic Valentine's Day Special (2023) ★★★★★ 2/12

Skinamarink (2022) ★★★★ 3/8

Re-Animator (1985) ★★★★ 3/12

Ring (1998) ★★★★★ 3/12

Ju-On: The Grudge (2002) ★★★★ 3/12

I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997) ★★★★ 4/2

Scary Movie (2000) ★★★ 4/3

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023) ★★★★★ 4/5

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) ★★★★★ 4/18

Scary Movie 2 (2001) ★★★ 5/3

Scary Movie 3 (2003) ★★ 5/4

The Green Knight (2021) ★★★★★ 5/20

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) ★★★★ 5/21

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023) ★★ 6/6

Evil Dead Rise (2023) ★★★★1/2 6/27

Nimona (2023) ★★★★ 7/2

Barbarian (2022) ★★★★ 7/6

Malignant (2021) ★★★★ 7/7

Barbie (2023) ★★★★★ 7/23

Scream VI (2023) ★★★1/2 8/1

Saw (2004) ★★★★ 8/1

Frozen (2010) ★★ 8/2

Resident Evil: Death Island (2023) ★★★★ 8/21

Studio 666 (2022) ★★★★ 9/4

The Exorcist (1973) ★★★★1/2 9/4

Saw II (2005) ★★★★ 9/9

Saw III (2006) ★★★1/2 9/9

Saw IV (2007) ★★★1/2 9/9

Saw V (2008) ★★★ 9/9

Saw VI (2009) ★★★ 9/9

Saw 3D (2010) ★★ 9/9

Jigsaw (2017) ★★★ 9/10

Miss Americana (2020) ★★★★ 9/10

Spiral: From the Book of Saw (2021) ★★1/2 9/17

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) ★★★★1/2 9/24

Saw (2004) ★★★★1/2 9/25

Saw II (2005) ★★★★1/2 9/26

Dracula (1931) ★★★★ 10/1

Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984) ★★★1/2 10/1

Friday the 13th: A New Beginning (1985) ★★★★ 10/1\

House of 1000 Corpses (2003) ★★★★ 10/8

Friday the 13th (1980) ★★★★1/2 10/13

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (2023) ★★★★★ 10/19

Saw VI (2009) ★★★1/2 10/28

Saw 3D (2010) ★1/2 10/29

Saw X (2023) ★★★★1/2 11/6

Saw IV (2007) ★★★1/2 11/20

Saw X (2023) ★★★★1/2 11/20

Terrifier (2016) ★★★1/2 12/4

Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth (1992) ★★ 12/4

Saw V (2008) ★★★1/2 12/4

Terrifier 2 (2022) ★★★1/2 12/11

The Green Knight (2021) ★★★★★ 12/18

Sonic Christmas Blast(1996) ★★1/2 12/22

Black Christmas (1974) ★★★★★ 12/23

Black Christmas (2006) ★★★1/2 12/24

Saltburn (2023) ★★★★ 12/29

Taylor Swift: Reputation Stadium Tour (2018) ★★★★★ 12/30

Books

The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor Lavalle 1/2

The Witcher: The Last Wish by Andrzej Sakowski 1/12

We Can Never Leave This Place by Eric Larocca 1/14

Causes and Cures in the Classroom by Margaret Searle 1/29

Vox Machina: Kith & Kin by Marieke Nijkamp 2/1

Black is the Body by Emily Bernard 2/4

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas 2/18

The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green 2/19

Black Klansman by Ron Stallworth 2/26

The Dark Tower V: Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King 3/7

Ring by Koji Suzuki 4/14

What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher 4/14

In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez 5/8

Circe by Madeline Miller 5/19

When the Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka 5/30

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe 6/1

The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker 6/25

The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson 6/28

The Lesbian Classics Get Me Off by Chuck Tingle 6/28

Icebreaker by Hannah Grace 7/5

Teacher of the Yearby M.A. Wardell 7/7

The Colorado Kid by Stephen King 7/17

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone 7/31

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle 8/4

The Writing Revolution by Judith C. Hochman & Natalie Wexler 8/10

You Can Go Your Own Way by Eric Smith 8/20

Phasma by Delilah S. Dawson 9/12

Small Spaces by Katherine Arden 9/27

Reforged by Seth Haddon 10/8

Fifty Feet Down by Sophie Tanen 10/23

The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty 11/22

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett 12/2

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade 12/7

Wildfire by Hannah Grace 12/5

Interview With the Vampire by Anne Rice 12/12

Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica 12/19

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers 12/20

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo 12/28

Stowaway and Silent Song by Vera Valentine 12/29

Physical Music Media:

(this isn't all of the records/CDs I've gotten or listened to this year, but I figured I'd decipher the stickers I put in the book; these are all of the promo stickers on the outside of the plastic wrapping on the releases)

Beat the Champ - the Mountain Goats

Paradise - Lana del Ray

Red (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

What's it Like? - Sure Sure

Did You Know There's A Tunnel Under Ocean Boulevard? - Lana del Ray

Stick Season - Noah Kahan

The Rest - boygenius

Midnights (Late Night Edition) - Taylor Swift

Raving Ghost - Olivia Jean

The Record - boygenius

Speak Now (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

Dark in Here - the Mountain Goats

Bangerz (10th Anniversary Edition) - Miley Cyrus

God Games - the Kills

1989 (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

[enddaysengine]

Changeling the Lost Resources

This is a resource for all Changeling Storytellers and Players, in particular, those who are new to the Freehold. I've included a couple of non-Changeling resources that I think may be useful as well. If there is something you think should be included, please let me know what it is and why it should be on the list and I will take a look.

Hey! This post is designed to be updated as I find more resources! You can click here to get the most up to date version.

2e Changeling Core 2e

Condition Cards Dark Eras 2 - Arthur's Britannia - Mysterious Frontiers - Seven Wonders Hearts on Trial - Jumpstart The Hedge (forthcoming) Kith and Kin Oak, Ash, & Thorn Storyteller Screen & Companion

Consent in Gaming Google Forms RPG Consent Checklist (by @jl_nicegirl)

Dark Eras - A Grimm Dark Era - Beneath the Skin (blue-book) - Requiem for Regina - Three Kingdoms of Darkness Dark Eras Companion - Lifting the Veil (blue-book) Mortal Remains

Chronicles of Darkness

Olivia Hill's Changeling 2e Arc's Paris Freehold

1e Changeling Core 1e Autumn Nightmares Character Sheet [Free] Dancers in the Dust Dark Eras - Lily, Saber, Thorn Equinox Road Goblin Markets Lords of Summer Night Horrors: Grim Fears Ready-Made Characters Rites of Spring SAS - The Fearmaker’s Promise SAS - The Fearmaker’s Promise Compendium SAS - The Rose-Bride’s Plight Swords at Dawn Winter Masques Victorian Lost

Astral Realms Book of the Dead Glimpses of the Unknown

Bundles CofD Dark History Complete Bundle Starter Kit

Fiction Tales of the Dark Eras

Selected Vault

Book of Seemings Curiouser and Curiouser Bargins Lost Entitlements Vol 1, Vol 2, & Vol 3 Venice Unmasked Wyrd Tides

Actual Plays Hedged In The Littlebrook Reunion (The Primogen)

[greetingfromthedead]

5. Quiet Before the Storm

Series: Mermaid!AU Depth of Despair

Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Your rendezvous continue. Each day, you start to wait for him by the rocks in the water. You watch as he climbs down, now taking the red coat with him as soon as he spots you on top of the cliff. The path he takes looks dangerous to you, and a few times you've had to hold your breath in fear as he clambers down the rock face. Vash warned that if the rocks are wet, he won't be able to climb them, but sunshine has graced your meetings so far. You end up spending most of your days together; he talks to you and asks about you, trying to understand your kin better. Sometimes it's just comfortable silence between you. He would lay down on the sand, the red jacket fanned out underneath him, and rest his head on his folded arms. Each day, it gets harder to keep your mouth shut. You want to reply to his questions, correct the misunderstanding he has, and ask about him. You want to trust him more than anything, especially when he starts to take his sweet time carrying you to shore and doesn't quite immediately put you down. Or when he sits closer to you, his eyes staying on you with a smile on his lips. You have to keep telling yourself to be cautious while your mind slips into comfortable familiarity. To you, your voice is a blessing and a curse, but for him, it would only be a curse. As soon as you'd say a single word, he would be under a spell. He would hang on to each word, hopelessly enchanted by the melody he would perceive. You don't want that, so you stay mute, keeping your tongue behind your teeth, and suffer in silence.

Vash always brings flowers with him. Each time he has pockets stuffed with greenery and colorful blooms, he would occasionally even have to keep some between his teeth while he descends the cliff. Every time he teaches you about them, he tells you their name and how they like to grow. He brings violets and chrysanthemums, irises and zinnias, bluebells and roses, sunflowers and carnations. Sometimes everything he brings is new, and sometimes you see already familiar flowers, like daisies and asters. He would put the flowers behind your ear or weave them into flower crowns. He is good with his hands and takes great care with what he makes for you. It seems to make him happy. He is so gentle as he puts the band on your head, pushing aside some seaweed and the wet locks sticking to your face. He likes playing with your hair, running his fingers through it absentmindedly as he brushes out some tangles, or making some braids into it to decorate your head with even more flowers.

Every evening, he carries you back to the water and waves you goodbye as you swim into deeper parts of the bay. He would wait until he saw your tail flip in farewell before heading back to the overhang where you sat together to fold up the blanket he wraps around you each time and leave it hidden away in a dry spot. He doesn't know that you would linger by the rocks and watch him climb up and then disappear over the edge of the cliff.

One hot summer's day, the wind pushes all the warm surface water into the bay. Vash does come into the water to you like he usually does, but instead of picking you up from the rock, he simply sits down in the shallow water with a smile. He stretches out his long limbs and lifts his bare feet out of the water, wiggling his toes. He beckons you to come closer as he settles in, and you slip down from your perching spot to join him. The rocks still hide you from most eyes if they look down from the cliff's edge, and you aren't too worried about being seen.

"Whoa, I never realized your tail is so long! It doesn't seem like that out of water," he says with admiration in his voice. "Oh, and you have extra fins and scales in water? Makes sense! I've never noticed before."

That's because I try to get as far away as I can before you can realize things like this. You think to yourself with a bit of sadness. You're still careful not to show him the more horrifying parts of yourself. You do not want to scare him away, so you dig your fingers into the sand to hide the claws and stay vigilant not to lay back too far to the point where your neck and face would get submerged by even some stray waves.

Vash sits close to you, but this time it was your choice. Your arm nearly touches his, and perhaps the current occasionally brushes the thin fin of your forearm gently over his skin like silk. He seems happy sitting in the water with you, his pants submerged and his shirt sticking to his body, with only the upper part still dry. He pulls up his knee, and it pops out from the surface. He leans his right hand on it as he turns partially towards you. There is a tender look in his eyes as he smiles, the sun casting him in a warm light and glinting back from the golden hoops in his ear. You admire him again—the brilliant blue of his eyes, the yellow of his hair, his fair skin, and his pinkish cheeks. He could be compared to a merperson and the spell they put mortals under. Sometimes you wonder if you're the one being fooled and lured in by some ancient magic.

"I hope you don't mind; I brought you a bouquet this time." He smiles and pulls out a beautiful assortment of flowers and foliage. "The frilly ones are stocks; the colors reminded me of your scales and how I have to say goodbye as the sun sets. The little white bells are lily-of-the-valleys."

You smile at him as you carefully reach your hand up to take the bouquet from his grip. You let the leaves hide the long talons, and you're grateful that his eyes stay on yours. You lean over the blooms and take a whiff. It's a mix of floral scents, but you can pick up the same overly sweet and sticky scent of magic that you can occasionally smell on Vash too.

Your hand closest to him is still buried under a thin layer of sand, but suddenly you feel something track along the knuckle of your pointer finger, and you can't help but wonder if it is his touch or just your imagination. You get your answer as his finger pushes underneath yours as if trying to link your fingers together, but you're too afraid that he will realize just how different you really are. You don't want to see the repulsed look on his face when he realizes the truth. You know it's wrong; you're allowing him to believe a fairy-tale about yourself—a mysterious, pretty creature with no ill intent—but the reality is a horror story—a creature from the deep sea, abominable and dangerous. It's just a matter of time before he finds out the truth, but until then, you want to keep the illusion for your own sake.

You pull your hand away from his as if you didn't notice his touch at all. You hide the long webbed fingers like you did with your other hand and keep them under the foliage of the bouquet Vash brought you until the claws disappear and they look human. You feel the guilt of deceiving him, but you tell yourself that this is the least monstrous option you could choose. You either imagined his attempt or mistook it as something it was not, as Vash looks unbothered, like there was nothing at all going on. His smile doesn't fade as he looks at you for a moment longer and then lays down in the shallow water. His face and chest stay above the surface, his arms fold under his head, and he soaks in the sunlight shining down on you from the cloudless sky. The waves wet his shirt, which sticks to his skin and takes on a pink hue; only the ruffles around his collar stay white. His blonde hair gets wet too and sticks to his scalp until another wave carries the strands with it. You remain sitting beside him, mostly keeping your eyes on the flowers but occasionally shifting your gaze to his resting form. You notice through the translucent fabric the scars on his skin, remnants of past battles and adventures, but mostly a reminder of the day when you found him nearly dead in the sinking remains of his ship.

Vash lazes the day away, the warm water lapping at his body and you beside him. Guilt weighs heavy on your heart as you remain rigid, upright, and nervous of revealing too much of your true nature to Vash. His words of adoration ring in your head as he speaks of you fondly. He praises your gentle nature and your beauty. You desperately want to reciprocate those words, but you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. You feel yourself sinking deeper into the situation. So quietly, he has won you over, filling your chest with strange feelings and your mind with overwhelming thoughts. So much for leaving everything here behind and looking for new waters to call your own.

Your fingers play gently with the delicate flowers in your hand that show no sign of wilting or tiring. You cannot help but wonder how much longer you can resist his charm and how long you can stay mute and pretend like you don't feel anything. You know you're deluding yourself. One way or another, he will have to see your true self if you want to get closer to him. And when that happens, he will see a monster and realize that all the old tales of man eating fishpeople are more than true. He will either succumb to your kin's magic or you will have to betray your kind to lift the spell from Vash's mind. Neither option is safe, neither for you nor for him.

Vash sits up, water dripping from his sopping hair and his shirt sticking to his body. He looks at the horizon and the sky above, which has taken on a peachy hue as the sun lowers itself. His smile fades a little, the corners of his lips stay up, but his eyes reflect sadness as you gaze at him before turning away again. He looks lost in thought, the weight of the world seemingly suddenly resting on his shoulders.

"It's already time. It feels like the days are getting shorter. How cruel." He sighs and turns towards you. "Hey, would you please look at me?"

His words are gentle and pleading. You don't find it in you to deny him, so you turn to face him. The sadness doesn't disappear from his face, but it's softened by a glint in his eyes. His fingers brush through your dry hair, pushing it from your face. He gently touches the seaweed in it and lets it move through his fingers.

"I know I cannot do it justice, but I have to at least try to commit every detail of you to memory. It's going to rain for a few days, and I'm afraid I can't come here until it clears up again. Forgive me."

You know he is right. You can smell it too. The scent of a storm sticks to the breeze. It will arrive during the night, bringing strong winds, rain, and thunder. It stings to know that you will not meet him here tomorrow; you won't even see the red coat hanging from a tree branch overlooking the bay.

As if compelled by something, you reach out your hand to touch his cheek. You've been craving the warmth of his body and the feel of his pulse against your skin. Your cold fingers cup his face, your thumb brushing over the birthmark under his eyes. For a moment, Vash's eyes widen at your contact, but then he leans into your hand, closing his eyes in contentment. You feel the heat rising under your touch, and a redness appears on his face and neck. His hand comes up to cover yours, holding it there gently before pulling it slightly away from his face, just enough for him to turn his face and press his lips against your palm.

"I will be eagerly waiting for the rain to stop." Vash says as he opens his pretty blue eyes again.

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You can check out the Depth of Despair Masterlist for more info.

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[sadistic-kiss]

I want to tell you that I am so so appreciative of all the yummy meals you've been dishing out, for free! I wish to be able to join the Patreon VIP Diners' gang but alas it's not the right time.

Btw I love House of Alphas so much, literally the main reason why I started using AO3. It's so good.

I atill remember how I finished your Taken fic overnight due to how good it was! Ngl I was a bit iffy of the noncon part(as you've clearly warned) but I felt that I should try your other food as well while I wait for my next meal.

Sorry for going on a whole rant in your inbox but I just love love LOVE your works.

Now I'm going to start reading Desert Rose, thank you so much for all that you do!

Truly I never wanted to open up a Patreon. It was due to me losing my job and I was afraid to not be able to write and that’s why I did it. If I find myself a sugar daddy I’ll ditch Patreon I swear 😂

House of alpha is starting to become my biggest treasure and I don’t know what I’m going to do once it is finished lol.

Taken was so tough to write because I tried to align it with canon as much as possible and unfortunately sukuna is not a good guy… like… at all XD I know that’s my kissy boo boo kins but the cold hard truth is he’s a terrible person and villain. The only thing that saves him is his alpha and he listens to him just because he’s annoyed… nothing else q-q

My other stories are safe except bloody summer- that one I wrote with a friend but as for now it’s kind of discontinued.

Other than that you are safe with me as long as you remeber I’m angsty but I am not GeGe ^=^

No need to ever apologize! Please come by any time you want :3!

[virgo-mess]

Silver Bells

Here we are guys finally made it to the sequel for Silver Thread. It is a Christmas fic. I had intended to write during Christmas, but Silver Thread took me longer to put together than expected, so I hope you don't mind reading a Christmas romance in spring. Hopefully, the Birds and the Bees will even it out as it's very much a summer romance! This post is going to be the master post so all the links for the chapters will be added in order here, but I think I'll still put the next parts at the bottoms of the chapters when they're available. Without further ado, here is the first official part of Silver Bells. Enjoy!

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Chapter List

Prologue

Chapter 1: Hot Chocolate for Two

Chapter 2: BUT HE ALREADY KNOWS HOW TO SKATE!

Chapter 3: Hugo’s Plan/ NO, Get Out of the Hot TUB!

Chapter 4: Orange is Not Her Favorite Color….

Chapter 5: Christmas Strife

Chapter 6: Silver Bells pt 1

Chapter 6: Silver Bells pt 2

Chapter 7: Constellation

Epilogue

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Prologue:

December 14th, 1985

Two pairs of eyes stared back at each other from across the still room, one pair was a deeply melancholy shade blue, and the other was a painfully somber shade of brown, but both were teary. The Los Angeles skies mirrored them through the obnoxious stain glass windows, thick, weighted grey clouds loomed across the dreary winter skies and smothered the sun. Looking like they might finally give away and weep over the city marking the end of the warm golden days of LA summer and the arrival of the cool rainy days of LA winter. Usually, the brown pair of eyes wouldn’t mind such a thing with the joys of Christmas, their favorite holiday, just around the corner. The brown eyes had thought this Christmas was going to outshine all their previous Christmases because this time the blue pair of eyes would be right by their side. But that was when the brown eyes couldn’t tell where they ended and where the blue ones began, back when their eyes were blended together to make a dusty brown-grey shade of purple. Soft and pretty, perfectly intertwined in a harmonious dance neither of the eyes wanted or ever thought would end but now the brown eyes were facing the reality that the dance was in fact ending. That the music was fading, and the warm, golden sun was setting on what they had declared their own little personal Eden. Damning their once flourishing garden, into a hellish, lonely eternal winter.

The blue eyes were denying this reality, they pleaded to the brown ones from across the room insisting that the music was still playing, the sun wasn’t setting, and the dance wasn’t coming to an end. The brown eyes believed the blue eyes when they said it last time, the night they swirled with sincerity and the deepest form of love the brown eyes had ever seen or felt. That night the blue eyes gazed up at them from where they knelt upon abodes of red rose petals that blanketed the floors of the Alhambra Suite at the Mission Inn with a black velvet box sitting in their trembling hands. Asking a question the brown eyes hadn’t really wanted to hear yet but gladly accepted because it was easier than accepting that their once loving relationship was now clouded in secrecy. White lies that grew in both number and size until the brown eyes found themselves questioning if anything the blue eyes had ever told them was true. If their love for each other was real, or if it was just a means to an end in the grand scheme of the vengeful plan the blue eyes had crafted and executed against the brown eye’s own kin.

“Veda baby, listen to me please I need you with me today…” Terry said, his blue eyes vulnerable and pleading as he knelt down in front of Veda’s slightly trembling form and let out a long-saddened sigh as they registered the tears welling in her brown orbs. It seemed all she did these last few weeks was cry, at least when she wasn’t holed up in one of the guest rooms. A shaky breath escaped her lip, her brown eyes were trained on her feet because she knew that if she met Terry’s gaze, she’d throw her escape plan out the window. She kept reminding herself it was too late to get the deposit back on the U-Haul she had Larry Park a few streets over just like it was too late to cancel her last-minute vacation rental. Though she wasn’t sure how running away to spend Christmas and her winter break in solitude up in the mountains of Big Sur could be considered much of a vacation. Veda already knew anywhere Terry Silver wasn’t, was absolute torture for her and part of her felt like she deserved to have a miserable existence for betraying him this way… leaving him this way when she was still completely in love with him was the hardest decision she’d make in her entire life. She tried to keep reminding herself that Terry had betrayed her first, that he lied to her directly and indirectly for months, that he had chosen to prioritize his relationship with John Kreese over theirs and that he had single handedly orchestrated a plan to make her little brother suffer behind her back. Some of those thing Veda might be able to look past if Terry didn’t seem to wholeheartedly believe he had done nothing wrong that everything he did was to benefit both her and John.

“I can’t Terry…you lied to me… you keep lying to me” Veda’s voice came out surprisingly firm even though she was physically shaking like a leaf and her stomach felt like it might empty itself all over the bedroom floor. A bedroom she once considered theirs though it looked like neither of them had slept in it for weeks. Truthfully that was because they hadn’t, while Veda was off sleeping at Zoe’s or in one of the bare guest rooms Terry wasn’t sleeping at all. Terry took a sharp inhale as he stared up at Veda with dilated pupils and slightly bloodshot eyes, he found himself wishing he could pour his heart out to her the way used to but that would mean admitting he had a problem and that was something he couldn’t face right now. His heart was heavy with more shame, guilt, and pain than he had felt even in those dark days he spent locked in a cage in the jungle.

“I know I lied and I’m so sorry baby girl but after the tournament today everything’s going to go back to normal, it’ll just be you and me again you won’t even see John. We can go to dinner at the roof top place, we can go to the pier, we can go to the museums, the Ranch whatever you want, sweetheart I promise. Just come with me, please” Terry’s tone is urgent and desperate as he tilted her head up so he could stare deeply into her eyes. They’re swirling with sincerity and desperation and Veda thinks for a second, he’s on to her and her growing need to get away from everything. Even if her need to run away and leave her life with Terry behind her wasn’t this strong she still couldn’t handle going to the tournament today she couldn’t watch Daniel go through the pain of being in Cobra Kai’s bad graces all over again.

“I don’t want to watch Daniel hurt, Terry and I can’t watch you do this…please don’t make me go.” Veda said just above a whisper as the tears in her eyes finally start to spill over. She sat unmoving as she felt Terry begin to wipe and kiss away the stream of tears from her cheeks, his kisses are tender, but his thumb is frantic as it brushes against her flushed skin. Terry breaths are coming out in nervous bursts of air as he tries to soothe Veda in the only way he’s ever known how. The fact that it doesn’t seem to be working scares him enough to finally consider the fact that he may be losing the love of his life this time and a last-minute spur of the moment proposal wasn’t going to fix it this time.

“Okay… you don’t have to go” Terry whispered, cradling Veda’s face in his hands he swore he felt his heart shatter as her brown eyes stared back at him looking lifeless and defeated for the time ever. Terry let out a shaky breath before leaning forward to place his lips on her forehead in the form of a long tender kiss as he contemplated just where to go from here. Losing Veda was never something he considered a likely possibility, he always swore he’d never let it happen, that he’d never let her go, that he’d make it next to impossible for her to move on or to ever be free of him. Yet now that the gravity and consequences of his action the last few months were finally catching up with him and the reality of losing her was more tangible Terry couldn’t bring himself to force her to stay. He knew the right thing to do today would be to skip the tournament, to forget John and his quest for revenge and just stay here and hold her until the look swirling in her brown eyes faded. Terry wished more than anything that he could, that he could forsake John and forget about Cobra Kai and get back to the blissful existence he had with his sweet girl before his old friend turned up asking him for a favor. Terry wished he had ignored John’s adamant advice about keeping Veda in the dark because it was clear from the get-go John Kreese was less than satisfied with Terry’s chosen beloved. The why of which Terry had yet to figure out but John sure looked happy when Veda showed up at the dojo in tears looking equal amounts hurt and betrayed.

“You don’t have to go just, please go to dinner with me tonight so we can talk about all of this okay, my sweet girl?” Terry pleaded; Veda let out a long sigh as she now felt her own heart shatter this time because it was clear to her Terry knew she was planning to leave.

“Okay, we’ll talk over dinner” she forced the words out like they were poison and refused to let herself acknowledge the way her heart fluttered when his blue eyes lit up and he peppered her cheek with adoring kisses. They both knew she way lying but neither of them felt equipped to talk about it as they danced on thin heart-breaking line of Terry showering her with affection and Veda sitting in his arms unmoving.

“Everything will be okay, baby girl I promise, you’ll see. I love you…” All Veda could do was nod as she thought of her response to his declaration but didn’t allow herself to utter the three words back to him. Even when his lips brushed against hers passionately, she waited until she heard his footsteps retreating down the loggia before she broke down into a fit of agonizing sobs. The sobs didn’t stop even when Margaret, Larry, and Milos came in the room to help her gather her things cooing reassuring words to her. They tried to assure her Terry would come to understand, that he could never hate her, that she wasn’t a bad person, but Veda couldn’t bring herself to believe a single word. Her sobs only intensified as she was failing to remember what things belonged to her before Terry was in her life and what things were only hers because of him. Margaret insisted she take them all, but Veda knew she wouldn’t be able to fit everything in her small student dorm at CalTech or the one she was supposed to occupy next fall at USC. The only thing she didn't keep was the ring he proposed with, the solitaire diamond didn't seem to shine the way it did that night as Veda sat it on the nightstand with a shaky hand. She let her eyes sweep across the room that she once called their before they settled on the promise ring she was still wearing on her right finger. Veda couldn't bring herself to take it off even after Terry gave her the engagement ring because she liked it a lot more and because it reminded her of a happier time in their relationship. Even now, even after everything that happened, she couldn't bring herself to it. So, she took one last shaky breath as she scooped the last of her belongings into her arms and walked out of the Ennis house for the last time.

The hours up until then seemed to pass by in slow motion and when the time finally came for Veda to hop into the truck and drive away, she felt numb. Utterly and completely detached as the three adults she had come to know and call friends pulled her trembling form into their arms. Silent tears were still rolling down her flushed cheeks as she hopped into the truck and turned the key in the ignition. Igniting a melancholy sounding engine just as the clouds finally gave away and wept, the first sign of an unusually cold winter swept through the treetops as Veda pulled the truck out of the long drive and on to the road. The soft patter of rain hitting the windshield and wet truck tires rolling on the pavement fill the silence of the car and Veda finds herself wanting to turn around but knows she can’t for reasons she doesn’t even fully understand yet. She reaches over to turn on the radio with a shaky hand and Joni Mitchell’s River lulls through the stereo in all its blue melancholy.

“…It’s coming on Christmas

 They’re cutting down trees

They’re putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

But it don’t snow here

It stays pretty green

I’m going to make a lot of money

Then I’m going to quit this crazy scene

I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on

I made my baby cry

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

And loved me so naughty made me weak in the knees

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on…”

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Veda dry heaves, feeling her stomach lurch and twist uncomfortably as she nears the expressway and Terry’s Rolls Royce Corniche comes into view across the street. She can make out his dark hair through the raindrops on his window and the distressed look on his face. She wishes she could run to him more than anything right now, to have him wrap his arms around her and listen to his heartbeat one last time....but she doesn't. She turns the truck onto the expressway as a fresh wave of tears and sobs overtake her.

Terry glances down at his watch before training his blue eyes on the traffic light, becoming increasingly agitated as its cycle seems to purposely want to halt his trek home. Though part of him knows his urgency to get there might all be for naught, he heard it in the way Veda spoke to him this morning and he felt it in the way she couldn’t bring herself to kiss him back. He saw it in her sad brown eyes and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do the only thing he ever wanted to do since she came into his life. He listened to John, a man he once considered his best friend and now he was trying to drive home to the only other person in the world that brought him an ounce of comfort even though he knew he lost her. Terry groaned, glaring at the traffic light as he aggressively turned the volume up on the radio to drown out his thoughts and sorrow as his foot finally hits the gas.

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“…I’m so hard to handle

I’m selfish and I’m sad

Now I’ve gone and lost the best baby

That I’ve ever had

Oh, I had a river

I could skate away on

I wish had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

I made my baby say goodbye

It’s coming on Christmas

 They’re cutting down trees

They’re putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on…”

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June 14th, 1987

Terry sighed, leaning back on a patio chair with a book in his hands listening to the faint sound of the waves crashing on the beach below. He was surprised his father moved him to such a luxurious rehab center, to be completely honest Terry was surprised he cared enough to come visit him without giving him a lecture. In fact, he was rather nice to him during his last visit, Terry suspected Margaret probably knocked some sense into him the same way she’d done to him a month ago. Terry for once accepted her verbal lashing though he wished she had done it before Veda left. Though he’s not sure the coke would’ve allowed him to hear it.

Terry was pulled out of his thoughts by one of the counselors walking out of the house with someone lingering in the doorway behind them.

“Mr. Silver you have a visitor, a Lucille LaRusso” he said, Terry flew to his feet with a rush of emotions overtaking him as he looked to the doorway surprised. It was in fact Lucille LaRusso, the mother of his ex-fiancé and Daniel LaRusso, the boy he tormented for a few months on his war buddies command and on Veda’s behalf.

“Mrs. LaRusso, hello” Terry said awkwardly, his cheeks flushing in shame and embarrassment as he looked at her. He was fully expecting to get another verbal lashing or a slap to the face as she walked up to the patio table he’d been sitting at. He wouldn’t blame her if she did, he hurt both of her children, intentionally and unintentionally. Terry would be lying if he said Daniel basically handing his college fund over to Mr. Miyagi without caring about the affect it had Veda didn’t fuel him into accepting John’s request. Because it did, he’d already been planning on teaching Daniel some semblance of a lesson before John showed up but finding out that he was the essentially the catalyst behind a lot of the horrible things Dutch did to Veda had him seeking out a punishment he thought fit the crime. If Daniel hadn’t ended up in Cobra Kai’s bad graces Dutch and Johnny never would’ve sought Veda out, using an innocent girl as a means to get back at Daniel. To make it all worse Dutch took things a step further, beating her half to death on two separate occasions for daring to call him out for being the trash he is and was. Veda was unwittingly collateral damage in a month’s long feud, one she had no responsibility in creating yet she suffered the most in the grand scheme of things. Terry dealt with Dutch accordingly, but he still had nightmares of the state he found Veda in, curled up under his office desk on the verge of a GHB overdose. And it all started because of some feud her bratty little brother took part in, truthfully, Daniel got off easy in comparison. Dutch Howard was still sitting in a cell waiting for his case to go to trial in a few months, Terry had already exhausted every avenue he could to make sure Veda would never have to take the stand…

“Hi, Terry. You can still call me Lucille” she said reassuringly, taking him by surprise as she pulled him into a brief motherly embrace. Terry furrowed his eyebrows but gladly returned the hug because he can’t remember the last time, he’d gotten one, he wished Veda was the one giving it to him, but Lucille was the next best thing. Lucille pulled away giving him a soft smile before taking a seat at the table Terry sat down still feeling a bit awkward despite how happy he was to see her.

“Uh, what brings you here, did Maragret call you?” he asked curiously, Lucille shook her head pulling out the letter he sent to Veda a few weeks prior. Terry shifted uncomfortably when he realized it was open. “Oh, that, I um…” he trailed not sure what to say, since it was a thinly veiled attempt to win her back so to speak even though he knew he shouldn’t be dating anyone for at least a year after treatment was over. There was still only a select set of people he let influence his decisions and one of them was sitting next to him right now. Lucille gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“She didn’t read it, I did, and I thought it was important that someone came to see you while you’re healing. So, you better get used to seeing me Terry, next time I come I’m expecting a warmer greeting, young man. I’m also here because I thought that it was important for you to know what’s going on with Veda, I need you to understand why I’m not giving her this letter right now and why I need you to be patient with her. I also know you were the one that funded that program for Veda to go to USC, it’s a good thing you submitted it anonymously. I don’t think she would’ve accepted it otherwise; I know I don’t have to tell you how stubborn she is. Once she sets her mind on something you’ll very rarely talk her out of it” Lucille chuckled very obviously trying to lighten the mood after such a heavy statement, Terry appreciated her effort nonetheless, but his mind was reeling with all the things that could be wrong with Veda.

“Yeah, she is a true Taraus that’s for sure. How’d you know it was me?” Terry asked, trying not to seem as nervous as he felt, and let a slight smile grace his lips as he looked back at her. Thinking and talking about Veda still hurt him so much right now.

“You aren’t the only one with connections, Terry Silver. I may have agreed to go on a date with the Dean if he let me see the paperwork” she said proudly, Terry let out a genuine laugh for the first time in months, forgetting about his dread over the current state of his relationship with Veda for a moment.

“And that’s why Veda is so good at sweet talking people, huh, Lucille. How is USC going for her so far, she’s been there like a year now, right” Terry asked nonchalantly even though he very much wanted to know anything he could, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stand hearing, Veda was dating other guys yet. He always said she’d never find anyone to take his place, but he also said he’d never let her leave and in the end he did. She could do much better than him right now, that’s why he needed to do everything he possibly could to be better for himself and for her.

  “School wise she’s doing great; she’s majoring in Business Administration with a focus on Entrepreneurship and Innovation and English Literature. Then she’s also minoring in art, art history, marketing, and surprisingly musical theater. I think she might be having an early midlife crisis right now, but she can actually really sing very well. I had no idea she could, she’s learning guitar and piano right now” Lucille said, Terry felt a slight twinge in his chest as he remembered the first time, he ever heard her sing. He still couldn’t listen to Fleetwood Mac without crying because he still pictured her head on his thigh looking up at him like he was the best thing ever created. He remembered the way her voice pulled him out of the jungles of Vietnam on the 4th of July like it was yesterday, it was hard for him to believe that would be two summers ago next month. Terry chuckled bittersweetly under his breath because it would seem they both developed a passion for music in their time apart.

    “That’s funny, I’m learning piano too” he said, even in their time apart they were still doing things together it would seem; Lucille smiled but it faltered after a moment and Terry knew she was gearing up to tell him bad news. “Oh, you said she’d doing great school wise, but how is she doing otherwise…” Terry trailed, feeling a rush of concern overtaking him despite how much he didn’t want to hear if he had caused her more pain. Lucille let out a deep sigh, toying with the letter in her small hands.

      “I mean she says she’s fine, but she isn’t, you know, as her mother I can tell she’s not and I don’t know how to help her. She won’t talk about it, Terry, she barely sleeps, and she eats like a bird. She’s lost so much weight, she’s so frail looking all she does is go to work or to school, she hasn’t seen Zoe and Rob in months, and they’re worried about her too. Then last week her doctor called me and asked if I was willing to check her into rehab because her lab results were a life-threatening kind of bad, he can’t give her a full diagnosis unless she has a psychological exam and Veda refused treatment. Obviously in this case I’m legally allowed to force her into treatment, I could but I just don’t think that’ll do much for her in the long run. I think she needs to hear it from you, Terry, hearing that you’re also struggling and getting help might give her more incentive to get better. I’ve read some of her journal entries and she feels really guilty for leaving you Terry, she thinks that you hate her for breaking her promise to you and she still loves you. I know you wrote this letter because you want to win her back Terry, but I think the best thing for both of you is time apart, to grow and heal. You both need to learn how to cope with things in a healthy way before you can be together otherwise something like what happened will just happen again and before you know it the love that brought you together is gone. I think what you guys need right now is to just be friends, you guys' kind of skipped that part. But the strongest relationships have to be built on something, you both got caught up in fixing each other and your problems instead of just helping the other through the problems. You can still love and support each other without coddling and trying fix the other person. Veda needs to just be a normal college kid right now and you just need to focus on getting sober. When the time is right and you’re both healed, you’ll know. So, I was wondering if you’d be willing to write her a different letter…” Lucille trailed, Terry wasn’t sure when he started crying, but he was, he felt the drops hit the back of his hand. Flooding from his eyes much like they had on her 19th birthday. Terry wordlessly nodded his head as he rushed into the house to grab a pen and paper.

            The words, like his tears, flooded out of him, almost like some outside force was pushing him along. Terry knew what it was though, it was love, unconditional love. The kind of love he promised her would always be there for her when she needed it, and he intended to keep to that until the day died. He’d never stop carrying that torch for her, but he wanted her to be happy even if that meant it wasn’t with him. He scribbled across the paper passionately, toying with his promise ring, he could never bring himself to take it off.

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            Dear Veda,  

           Hi sweet girl, I heard from a little birdy whose name rhymes with surreal, that you’re learning to play piano. You’re not going to believe this but so am I, it’s funny how even after our time apart we still seem to be so close together, we even picked up the same hobbies. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the way our relationship ended, and I can’t go into detail in this letter, but I need you to know that the things that happened, the choices I made, were not your fault. They were my mistakes, Veda, I made them, if anyone should feel guilty and responsible it’s me, not you. You didn’t break your promises, I did. The first life lesson I ever taught you was that actions have consequences, losing you and Dynatox were the consequences of my actions. I understand that now, that’s why I’m trying to get better, for myself. I’m in a rehabilitation facility now and it’s really helping me understand who I am and why I’ve done some of the things I’ve done, some of those war and childhood wounds don’t hurt so bad now. What does hurt me though, is knowing how much I hurt you, Veda and to hear that you’re still hurting because of me kills me.

 I once told you we were meant to happen regardless of time or circumstance, perhaps Romeo and Juliet weren’t the best couple to compare us to. Fate brought them together, but their lovesickness was ultimately what did them in because they thought they couldn’t live without the other and we thought that too. We stayed in our little bubble, and it prevented us from seeing that what we really needed was to just be there for each other, to help each other without coddling each other. Neither of us knew how to do that for whatever reason and that’s why us being apart right now is a good thing. We both needed time to grow, we must be better for ourselves before we can be good for each other. As much as I love you Veda, you were too young to be helping me get rid of my demons and I was wrong for trying to keep you in a relationship you were too young to be in, it took me a while to understand that while our love was real, our relationship was unhealthy because we both had unhealthy tendencies and coping mechanisms. I thought I was taking care of you, that I was protecting you, but what I was really doing was preventing you from growing up and living a life without me because of my own unresolved issues. I wasn’t just holding you; I was holding you back, you should’ve been enjoying your youth and finding your own place in the real world. I thought I was doing it because I loved you, but I was really doing it because I was afraid of being alone again. Now I understand that loving you means letting you live out your dreams even if they don’t involve me. I’m happy that you’ve found a place at USC, Veda, I’m happy you’re chasing your dream but I’m not happy that you aren’t living your life, that you’re not spending time with Rob and Zoe, and that you’re hurting yourself this way over me.

 I recently read about The Red String of Fate, how God placed an invisible red string around the pinkies of two people that were destined to meet. It says the string may tangle, stretch, and twist in different directions but it doesn’t break regardless of time, place, or circumstance. That’s us, when I told you that my love for you was unconditional Veda, I meant it. You can live your life, see the world, be a reckless kid, break the rules, or find someone else to love if that’s what you need to do because it won’t change the way I feel about you,  it won’t change the fact that the place next to me belongs to you, and it won’t change the fact that I don’t mind waiting for you. I’m sorry for putting you through all of this, I never wanted to hurt you, and I’m not expecting you to forgive me anytime soon, but I hope someday you might and that we can at least be friends. That ball is still always in your court though, Veda and I just needed you to know that I’m here for you whenever you need me. I’m not mad at you for leaving and I could never, ever, hate you. You did the right thing, I never would’ve been able to accept the fact I made a lot of bad decisions if you had stayed because, like I said, just being with you was a reward for me. I never would have gotten help if you hadn’t Veda and now, I hope this letter will encourage you to get some help of your own. You deserve to heal, and you deserve to be happy, Veda, all I ever really wanted was for you to be happy. Even if you can’t forgive me, could you at least do that and not just for me Veda, do it for you.

              Love you always,

 regardless of time or circumstance,

              Terry

[kyber-kisses]

Under The Banner (Part 2)

Elrond x elven!reader

Warnings: slight canon divergence, me not knowing enough about elves

Summary: After their first meeting Y/N runs into Elrond much sooner than she had planned.

A/N: here y’all go, a highly requested part two. Please enjoy. All gif credit goes to owner.

You sucked at being in elf.

Despite spending the entirety of your long life living amongst your kin, you were awful at it. The moment you set foot on the shore of middle earth you could feel it in the air, the way in which the elves held themselves above all the other species. It was like a sickness of god complex at settled over so many of you. Your kin acted like they had been born from the stars themselves. “The wisest and fairest of all creatures”

But you knew better than that. Just like every other species in middle earth you came into this world kicking and screaming and covered in blood. There was nothing godlike about you.

Yet almost all elves acted like they were. Stoic and bold and never making a single failure ever.

And that’s why you sucked at being an elf. Sure, you were Captain of the guard but you still made mistakes and grew curious about things and even became playful when the time was appropriate.

It was a rarity to come across another elf like that.

That was until last night. . . When you met him.

Pulling your eyes away from the lampbug that had been dancing through the marble carved branches that stretched over your head you looked across the room at the large dining table filled with elven nobles. It didn’t take long to find Elrond, he sat near the head of the table, off to the right of Gil-Galad. His eyes bright as he talked softly to those around him.

This wasn’t the first time you had gazed over at him this evening, not by a long shot. He had been on your mind all day, ever since letting him last night in the gardens.

From the second you looked at him you knew he was different from the rest. You don’t know how you knew, but you did. He was a like a breath of fresh air in a world that still felt so sour.

He was kind and gentle and from your meeting last night- it would seem he was also somewhat playful as well.

You must have been deep in thought because once you came back to your senses you found Elrond to be looking in your direction, the same soft smile as last night gracing his features.

It was in that moment you sent a prayer to the valar that he didn’t notice the redness of your cheeks. Straightening your posture, you instead looked straight ahead.

You had barely known this elf for a single day and yet he had you wrapped around his pinkie finger.

The dinner dragged on far longer than you expected, but eventually the nobles rose from their seats, exchanging goodbyes as they did, and trickled out of the banquet hall.

“It would seem our next meeting is sooner than I was expecting.” The final elf in the room smiling as he made his way towards you.

“If that’s a bad thing I can leave.” You joked lightly, fiddling with the sleeve of your deep green formal guard attire.

“Quite the opposite my lady, I was somewhat afraid that I would have to go in search of you- yet here you are.”

He was going to go looking for you? Goodness those butterflies in your stomach needed to settle down. It also didn’t help that you hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

“Is there a reason as to why the kings advisor would be searching for me?”

Elrond gave you that same soft smile as before. The kind that reminded you of a warm summer evening on the shores of Lindon.

“I simply wanted to see the new friend I had made last night in hopes of getting to know her better.”

“Well I’m a afraid I’m not very interesting. There’s not much to know.” Folding your arms behind your back you followed Elrond out of the banquet hall.

“Nonsense. Just this evening I have been able to figure several things about you.”

Raising an eyebrow you looked over at him, smiling slightly at the loose curl that had fallen over his brow, “is that so?”

“Well I know for sure that you found the whole evening boring, don’t think I didn’t catch you following that firefly with your eyes most of the night. I could also see your distaste for the uniform your wearing. I’ve never seen a guard fidget so much.” He mused, a light chuckle laced his voice as you followed him down the hallway.

Through the glass ceiling above you could see the constellations clearly, framed by the canopy of trees that surrounded the royal grounds. Autumn was soon approaching. You could tell by where the stars hung in the night sky.

“To be fair, these are quite more stiff and confining that what I’m used to.” You responded, holding your arm out to look at the deep green sleeve adorned with silver thread woven to look like vines.

“Ah so I was correct. Well in that case I also know without a doubt that you are hungry are you not?”

Tuning to catch his eyes, you raised an eyebrow, “can you read minds or something? So far you have gotten nothing wrong.”

Elrond only gave you a smile, storm cloud grey eyes connecting with your gaze. “I’m simply observant, that’s all.”

You followed him down the long hallways before leading you through a doorway and down a set of marble steps. . . And that’s how you found yourself in the largest kitchen you had ever seen. Besides a few others it was empty.

“Help yourself to anything you’d like. I would hate to see the Captain of the Guard go hungry.” Elrond explained, lowering himself onto one of the wooden benches that sat tucked into the large table in the center of the room.

You chose something simple. Grabbing a heel of bread and a small glass jar of butter, you lowered yourself into the seat across from Elrond.

“Thank you. This is much better than eating the stale stuff in the guard barracks.” Speaking softly, you slathered a glob of butter onto the bread, taking a small bite a moment later.

“You need not thank me. It’s what friends do.”

Friends. You didn’t really have many of those. You had those that were under your command but that was about it.

Elrond must have seen your face fall because he frowned slightly, “are you alright my lady?”

“. . . I don’t really have friends. Your words just caught me off guard that’s all.” You swallowed, focusing your attention instead on the silver butter knife you were currently flipping in your fingers. “Despite being an extremely good fighter and Captain. . . I’m not very good at being an elf.”

“There is no right or wrong way to be an elf, you must know that.” His words soft as he reached across the table to lay his palm atop your hand.

“Most of the time our kin seems to think otherwise. I’m messier than most, and I make mistakes almost daily- some of the guards under my command even whisper that I’m childish. Not fit for this role.”

“Do not listen to them.” He urged, squeezing your hand lightly. “I may not have known you long, but I can assure you that you do your job brilliantly. Do not belittle yourself.”

“Thank you.” The words escaped your lips as a whisper, your hand turning to allow you to hold his hand properly.

“Of course.” He smile once again reminding you of a soft spring day in June. Being around Elrond relaxed you, made you feel like massive rocks had been taken off your shoulders. You felt more yourself around him.

“I do also however have a favor to ask while we are here.” He added, looking to you for the approval to continue.

“Of course, ask away.”

“In two days I leave with Celebrimor for Kazadum. King Gil-Galad has requested me to ask you if you would join us as our guard.”

“If I’m being honest, I will do just about anything at this point to see something beyond the borders of Lindon.” You smirked slowly, catching Elronds gaze.

“Then it is settled.”

The two of you stayed seated at that table talking about anything and everything until you could talk no more and the sunrise had begun is climb over the tree line, splitting through the windows as it did.

And slowly you began putting your heart into Elronds hands, where you knew it would be safe.

(Part 3 in the works)

[punkeropercyjackson]

Hey hey! Got another Outlaws ask for ya :3

And this is a question I'd been meanin' to ask for a lil bit, just never got around to it... Sooo who'd the Outlaws be as ponies from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic? *Mane Six or otherwise*

We already know that Pepper is Pinkie Pie, but I'm wonderin' about everypony else. :3

Ooooo good ask babe!!!!

Jason=Rainbow Dash.Lmao

Summer=Fluttershy <3 She's kid me's MLP kin

Venus=Rarity

Rose=Vinyl Scratch

Eddie=Applejack

Kahali=Moon Dancer(They literally look the same😭 /pos)

Thad=Sunset Shimmer

Kyle=Discord.Cannot explain but same vibe

Artemis=Celestia but butch

Daisy=Derpy Hooves(/pos)

Lilith=Cheese Sandwitch.I mean yeah lmao

Imani=Luna.HM PAIN

Duke=Scootaloo(To match Jason <333)

Mathew=Flash Sentry.Same reasoning as Kyle

Azriel=Sweetie Belle

Jennifer=Twilight Sparkle.WAIT JENNIBAT REALNESS,THAT WASN'T EVEN ON PURPOSE,THEY'RE JUST THE SAME CHARACTERS-

Using this gif because it was captioned 'My brain hurts' LMFAO

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2023 - 4. Off the Hook Characters: Scions of the Seventh Dawn, Alphinaud Leveilleur Rating: Teen Summary: What do you do when you've accomplished your mission? Notes: None

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn were buzzing in the Rising Stones, sharing their stories with those who had stayed rather closer to home during the Final Days. Tales of adventure were shared, from their travels around Sharlayan and Thavnair, to their stint in Garlemald, to the alien environs of the moon and the harrowing journey to Ultima Thule.

Normally he would be part of these conversations, providing his insights and sharing his experiences, but this time he felt himself oddly quiet, his thoughts slowly turning over in his mind, not of the last several sennights, but of those sennights yet to come.

Thancred noticed, and came over and clapped a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently out of his reverie. "And what has our most studious scholar so quiet, that he's passing by this opportunity to impress us all with his insights?"

Alphinaud gave him a slight smile, and Thancred grinned broadly back, before leaning in and lowering his voice. "You quite alright? We've more than earned a brief respite, and for once, it seems we'll have it. We're finally off the hook, to so speak. The future of the star secured."

"Aye," said Alphinaud agreeably, reaching up a hand to clasp Thancred's, nodding at him. Thancred took a step back as Alphinaud took a step forward, tapping a hand to his chest as he cleared his throat.

The room quieted, as everyone present turned to look to him.

"My friends... no, my family. Brothers and sisters and kin, who have stood besides me and each other over these many summers as we have rose to the occasion of defending the star, time and time again. I believe many will agree when I say that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have, at last, fulfilled our mission and met our goals. The threat of the Primals has been tamed. Peace largely exists between nations. The Ascians shall harry us no more, and have finally found their resting place in history."

He looked around the room, at each of them in turn. "There is much and more that can be done. Our star shall ever need many hands to tend it. But I gathered us all here not merely to celebrate our past, but to discuss our future. I have been thinking... perhaps it is time, that the name of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn... be put to rest."

A murmuring began around the room, and he quickly waved his hands down to try to settle the conversation before it could begin in earnest. "At least in any official capacity. Give each of us a chance to do our work in quiet and peace once more. Shed responsibilities we no longer need bear, as envoys to nations and as advisors to leaders. Instead each of us can work in a smaller, lesser capacity, as little more than humble adventurers, tending to the wounds of the star. Not as an organization, but simply... as us."

The room fell quiet once more as he stood there, and waited, looking, watching their faces.

Hoping.

Y'shtola was the first to speak up. "That seems rather agreeable to me. I concur with your assessment."

Thancred quickly followed up with a nod. "I think you have the right of it, Alphinaud."

"We've long been experts at clandestine work," said Riol, looking thoughtful. "I can maintain our intelligence networks, make sure everyone's staying in touch but keep it on a strict need to know basis, down low. A little misdirection and some discretion, and nobody will think much of what we've become until we're needed again."

"Indeed," said Urianger. "We shall continue our work in less overt but no less direct fashion. Under cloak of such subterfuge, perhaps we may find our paths clearer, able to apply more subtle touch to those causes we find dear. And in this moment of respite, we may take our breath and find our hearts ever more true to our intents from when we first began this path we travel upon."

Coultenat smiled and waved a finger in the air. "And our work won't change much. Official Scion business or no, the star never seems to look after itself properly, does it? Hoary and I shall ever maintain the vigil and answer the call."

Other voices came up in agreement, and Alphinaud felt tears come to his eyes, wiping them with the back of his sleeve.

"Oh, what's that all about?" said Alisaie, putting her hands on her hips and leaning close to him.

"I was not at all sure that my idea would go over well," said Alphinaud. "We have been together for so long. Why change what has worked so well for us? Why change at all?"

"And we're not splitting apart for real now, are we? I swear, you overthink everything. You're right, you know, and it's a good idea. We'll keep doing the work, and maybe we'll have less stuffy bureaucrats to put up with doing it. I'm with you, every step of the way."

"Thank you," said Alphinaud. "That means much and more to me. Truly."

The conversations shifted to how they would go about the work of their 'disbandment' and what each of them hoped their new duties and tasks would be, and this time Alphinaud joined in with them, giving his own thoughts, and at last, being fully present with his comrades.

Off to the side a bit, Tataru's shoulders just slumped while Krile just shrugged at her.

"I thought they would make it at least a -day- of everyone being back before they tried to get back to work," she lamented, and Krile tittered.

[alter-soup]

kafka hsr introject,,,,

Name(s) - Kafka, Rose, Tarot

Pronouns- She/They

Suggested Neopronouns - Silk/Silks, Weave/Weaves, Web/Webs, String/Strings, Arach/Arachnid, Wine/Wines

Gender(s) - Girlflux

Orientation - Bisexual (Masc Leaning)

Age - 34

Species - Human

Source - Honkai Star Rail

Role(s) - Cultinoir, Janusian

Kins - Spiderkin

Personality traits/details - Calm, Collected, and Strategic

Likes - Tarot Cards, Spiders, Entomology, Crotcheting, Painting, Butterflies, Classic Literature, Fyodor Dostoevsky Novels , Makeup

Dislikes - Summer and Warm Days,

Sign Off - 💄🕸️

Faceclaim -

[effervescentdragon]

since you're passionate about mythology-coded charles, what about god!seb taking an interest in mortal!charles?

You will not win, brother, she tells him, and he only laughs, mischief echoing in every sound he makes. You underestimate me, he replies. You always have, and that will be your downfall.

She stands, a pale red rose in her hand, and his heart beats faster. Her eyes are deceitful, and she looks like she knows something that he does not. He keeps the grin on his face, unrepentant, unaffected in the face of her loveliness. She is as vicious as she is beautiful, and he dares not show a weakness, lest he be stricken.

As you have always underestimated me, she says, and her voice is a honey-entombed thorn. Tell me, brother, she spits out the last word like it is a curse. Where is your pretty boy now?

He cannot help the widening of his eyes. She sees; she sees everything. Her smile turns snide. Where is your lover, more beautiful than the sunset, lovelier than the morning dew, as delightful as the fresh spring in the summer? She brings the rose to her face, inhaling its scent. Where is your beloved?

He does not know when he takes the steps towards her; his golden shoes take him to her side quicker than she thinks possible. He grabs her by the neck, and she gasps; the rose falls from her hands, petals falling off as it crashes into the dirt.

Have you hurt him? He growls. She cannot speak; he does not need her to. If you have hurt him, sister, I shall never forget it.

His eyes sparkle gold; hers widen in response. You would dare - she gasps when he tightens his hold on her throat, then lets go just enough for her to be able to speak. You would hurt your kin? For - for a mere mortal?

Shut your lying tongue, he hisses. She sucks in a breath. There will always be mortals, she replies, raspy and tight. Why is this one any different?

I would not expect you to understand, he says, staring into her green eyes. 'Tis irony of highest degree, he scoffs, and her eyes narrow. The Goddess of Love, without the fundamental understanding of what love truly is. He closes his eyes. Selfish and capricious. He opens them again, and lets go of her, stepping away in disgust. Shameful.

She rubs on her throat as her eyes, unblinking and fixed on his, clear. They are beautiful, and green, but they are the wrong shade. They always were.

Know you what irony is, brother? She asks, and her face twists in a cruel grimace. That you be the Herald of the Gods. She scoffs. The fastest of all the Gods, and yet, she smiles, and it is poison personified, and yet, you are not quick enough to save your beloved.

He feels the rage fill him from the tip of his head to the bottom of his soles. His skin vibrates with power, and his head spins. She does not stumble away when he flies into her space. If he dies, I will never forgive you, he says, and he makes it a vow. She hears it, in her core, in her essence, and he sees incredulousness and doubt and regret in her eyes. If he dies, for as long as we exist, you are no longer my sister, he spits out, and then he is flying like he has never flown before, leaving devastation in his wake.

When he comes to the battlefield, it is burning.

The smoke fills his eyes and makes them water, so putrid it is, but he cannot care. He needs to find him. He closes his eyes and searches the battlefield; searches for a piece of himself he has left with his beloved. It pulsates; it calls to him, beacon of gold in the darkness of terror and the red of blood spilled. He opens his eyes and descends, hurrying.

He finds his lover on the brink of death; his wounds are too severe, and the only kin of his who could stop this death are either neutral or on the other side of this war. There is nothing to be done; his love will be lost to him. He pulls his beloved's head into his lap and cleans the blood from his skin, caressing his lovely face.

His eyes open, and green meets blue, and merges.

'My love,' he says, smiling despite the pain. 'How are you here?'

I've come to say goodbye, he says. You are to be parted from me, beloved.

'Oh, no,' he shakes his head and smiles that sweet smile of his, which is the most wonderful sight in the world, even as bloody and weak as it is now. 'I will never be parted from you. You are half of my soul,' he says, and his eyes are feverish, and his skin is burning, but the kiss he bestows upon the hand caressing his cheek is scorching. 'It is impossible to part us.'

You believe so? He asks, pain tearing at his ribcage as he observes his beloved's breaths becoming shallower and shallower. 'I do,' he says weakly. 'My love, not even your brother Thanatos will keep me away from you, for I am yours and yours only, heart and soul, until the world ceases to exist.'

Swear you? He asks in a shaky voice, unwilling to believe a mortal could make such a vow and mean it, and yet unable not to hope. Swear you, beloved?

'I swear upon my life and upon my death that I shall not be parted from you,' he says, and the words echo. 'Search for me when I am gone, and I shall be mindful of anyone with shoes of gold and eyes of sky whom I encounter,' he says. 'But now, kiss me, for I want to die with your taste on my lips.'

He lowers his head. I love you, he whispers against his beloved's lips, and kisses him, and lets his tears flow when the lips under his become lifeless. He breathes in his beloved's final breath and holds it in his lungs until they are fit to burst, and then he cries until he has no tears left.

I will never cease searching for you, beloved, he whispers to his dead beloved. He raises his head to the sky then. And I will never forget this, nor forgive it, my once-but-sister-no-more, for as long as the world turns.

There is a lightning then, and rain falls. It tastes like regret on his tongue, but he does not care, and it is not enough to extinguish the fire around him, for the battlefield burns and burns and burns with all the rage of a devastated God's heart.

*

"- and look, Charlie, he's wearing golden shoes!"

Charles turns, eyes wide, but before he can say anything, or figure out why his heart started beating faster, there is a man standing before him and Enzo. His smile is wide and his eyes are sky-blue, and Charles' cheeks heat.

"Hello, Enzo. Yes, I'm wearing my gold shoes, thank you very much, I deserve them after what it took me to win last year!"

Enzo laughs as they hug, but the man - you know his name, why can't you say it, you know who he is, you know him - keeps his eyes on Charles'. Sky-blue, Charles thinks, blushing like a fool. His eyes are like the skies, and they are beautiful.

When they separate, he asks "And this is your brother?", and Enzo says "Yes".

Charles doesn't know what possessed him then, but he sticks out his hand.

"Charles," he says. "My name is Charles" - this time, comes the thought, unbidden, and he shakes it off. "It is very nice to meet you, at last."

The man's eyes sparkle, and Charles feels like he can't breathe.

"Hello, Charles. I am Sebastian," he says, and it sounds like he isn't saying everything he wants to; like there is a whole world unsaid in the pause he makes. "I am very glad to finally meet you, too," Sebastian says, and their hands touch.

Something slots into place, like a whole universe finally aligning properly. When Charles smiles, shyly and sweetly, Sebastian's answering smile feels like warmth of the sun itself.