#the elders take a break at the lake

[harriertail]

Well, Mousefur used to like watchin' the sun go down over the lake. She said it looked like the water was on fire. So I was goin' to bury her where she'd still get a good view. P'raps over there. I know she's not really here, but it feels like the right place for her

[lorre-verie]

i NEED more recent neteyam content from you, the 5 stages of love thing was just- UGH mwah mwah i love it

can i request neteyam x reader where neteyam's jealous bc reader has been hanging out with other people? but please make the ending happy, i beg (im recovering from your aonung series antics 😭)

everything else is completely up to you i trust ur judgement so much 🥰

tysm anon AAAAA made me smile so much after reading this, i hope dearly that it doesn't disappoint!

“I will always love you.”

🗝 oneshot summary: seems you’ve been paying other people a whole lot more attention lately, and it’s making your dear boyfriend feel uneasy (jealous) inside. blablabla sweetie pie stuff happens, by the end of the night u two are cuddly lovey dovey again 💗

🌿 the lovely couple: neteyam x reader

📓 notes! - reader’s gender is not specified + no implications + no given name (used: [Y/N]) - takes place in the forest

🎞 word count: 2.3k

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“Yo bro!” Lo’ak waved towards his older brother, Neteyam’s hair whipping around with his head as he turned to see what Lo’ak wanted. 

“What?”

He was in the middle of rebraiding his hair in his family’s marui, something he would’ve asked you to do if he could even find you in the first place. 

Lately, you’d been really absorbed with developing your hunting skills, something he respected and never thought twice about, until now. 

“Did you and [Y/N] break up?” 

“What would even make you think such a thing like that?”  He completely abandoned his delicate ministrations through his hair, looking at his brother like he was insane. But deep down inside, he kinda wondered if you did too.

He rarely saw you these days, except for those fleeting moments where you two would wave at each other when passing by, and whenever he visited your tent you were never there. If he asked your friends they would constantly say you were out hunting, and he dropped his attempts at trying to find you. 

But seriously, hunting for almost the whole day for almost 3 weeks? There had to be SOMETHING else you’d been doing. 

“I never see you together anymore. N’ I heard from their friends there’s someone called Akxyeì in the picture. But if you did, there’s no shame in it bro, it’s all goo—”

Neteyam kicked him out of the tent. 

He huffed as he finished braiding his hair, not bothering to give it a last look before stomping out in search of you. Who the hell was Akxyeì?? 

Deep in his chest came a mixture of doubts and emotions regarding your relationship— had he not been showing you how much he loved you? How come you had to hang out with some other stupid dude? What if it was even worse, what if you were beginning to lose your interest in him? He would die without you, honestly. 

Or what if it was even worse, what if this Akxyeì character manipulated you into falling for him? He didn’t know whether what he was feeling was anger or sadness. But I’ll sum it up for you. 

Envy. 

Everyone stared at him as he stormed into the forest, the expression on his face taut and unreadable. The gossipping elders immediately got into their little groups, discussing what could possibly happen to the two of you in great interest. 

Not mud nor rain stopped him from tracking you, crouching along the forest floor, sniffing through the strong smell of rain in order to pick up your scent. The moment he found it, he bit back a growl; an unfamiliar scent was there with you.

He placed his hand on his forehead, taking deep breaths before heading in the direction you were supposed to be, reaching what the omaticayans dubbed the ‘lovers lake.’ He frowned remembering the nickname. 

Lo and behold, his love was crouched under a large leaf just near the opposite edge of the lake, a lovely smile on your face, like always, as you looked at the rain splashing in puddles on the dirt in front of you. 

Just the sight of you made his heart soar. But his mood quickly plummeted back down once he saw a na’vi boy crouched down behind you, also laughing at the predicament you were both in. 

He had half a mind to take his bow and shoot him in the crotch to ensure he wouldn’t ever be able to clone himself, but he had to bite back the urge. Instead, he resorted to letting out a heavy sigh. 

Just then, you looked up, eyes meeting with his as he stood far across the lake. A pang of guilt ran down your body, but it wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong, right? So then why did your heart drop fifty feet into the ground? 

Akxyeì’s laughter stopped once he saw the deathly stare Neteyam was giving him, which your boyfriend was satisfied with. But not satisfied enough. 

He turned his back on you both, disappearing into the thin fog that was starting to cloud the forest.

“..I have to go.” you whispered to Akxyeì, before diving head first into the lake to catch up with Neteyam. 

The only thing you thought about besides holding your breath was how angry Neteyam must’ve been with you. He totally misunderstood the situation, and it pained your heart to think of what he was thinking right now. You had to explain yourself as soon as possible. 

You frantically searched through the camp, your heart racing with worry and fear. Light pitter patters of rain land on your face, causing you to wipe it every few seconds in order to be able to see. You called out Neteyam's name in every spot imaginable, even his own family’s marui, but he wasn’t there.

As you made your way from tent to tent, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling of worry weighing down on your shoulders.

You checked the hunting groups, but Neteyam was nowhere to be seen. You asked the elders if they had seen him, but they claimed to not know anything. 

You were drenched from head to toe from your swim earlier, and the wind didn’t make it any better, shivers threatening to stop your search. The nosy elders murmured harshly at the sight of you this way, according to them you always seemed so put together. 

You finally make your way back to your own tent, hoping that maybe he might have gone there. Although it was unlikely, it was the only spot in camp you hadn’t checked. But as you pushed aside the flap, you were met with your empty home, no sign of your boyfriend anywhere. 

Panic began to set in as you realised that he was truly gone. You sat down, fingers pressed to your lips as you took in a deep breath, thinking of all the possible places he could be. 

He wasn’t anywhere in camp, so that would have to mean he was still out in the forest. But where? You couldn’t possibly— 

Ah. 

He might be at you guys' spot.

You hadn’t been there in what felt like years. It was where he asked to be your boyfriend. It was so silly of him; a smile crept up on your face as you hopped up through the trees, reminiscing the day. 

You were both admiring the night sky together, counting the stars, and he suddenly whispered, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

Even now, he denies ever uttering those words, claiming it was a figment of your imagination, and that you heard what you wanted to hear. But you remembered vividly the way he nearly fell off the trunk of the tree when you said yes.

The grass underneath you turned into soft clumps of moss as you continued, the rain slowly stopping as eclipse took over the sky. Finally, you reached the two intertwining trees, standing underneath the archway. 

You didn’t have time to look up before you heard his voice among the cricketing insects. 

“[Y/N].” he said, his voice as low as a sigh, your ears flattening once you heard the utter distress from his throat.

You said nothing, instead climbing up the slanted tree, crouching and setting aside the leaves covering your view. 

And there he was, in all his glory. 

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan.

His feet dangled over the edge of the tree trunk, his hands planted firmly at his sides. He was hunched over, staring blankly at the ground at which you stood before. 

“Neteyam—” you were barely able to finish saying his name before he interrupted you. 

“Did I do something?” he croaked out, his gaze fixed downwards. 

“What?” you blinked. What was he saying? 

“Of course not,” you said softly, sitting on a spot on the tree just inches from him, you looking directly at his crestfallen face. 

A tear ran down his cheek, reflected by the lights of the stars in the night. He wiped it away quickly, now looking to his left, so that you were met with only the back of his head. 

Your heart dropped at the sound of his sniffles. “Neteyam, Akxyeì is just a friend,” you started, trying to formulate the best way to try and explain the situation to him and then beg for his forgiveness. 

“It’s not about that.” he sucked in a breath in attempt to calm himself down. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” 

Your heart felt like it was splitting into two. 

You’d constantly been reassuring yourself that you weren’t avoiding him, you were just hanging out with your own separate group of friends, but in truth you basically had been. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” you paused, sighing as you faced the fact that you were going to have to be truly honest with him about your feelings now. 

“I just…wanted to be seen.” 

At those words, he turned towards you, eyes glistening with tears. “Wh…What do you mean by that?” 

“With them, I feel like what I always wanted to be— A strong, brave warrior with talent. With them, I feel like I can just truly be myself, and I don’t have to hold back.” 

He looked at you, beckoning you to go on. 

Your eyes flickered down, unable to meet his eyes as you continued, “Sometimes when I’m out with you I feel like I have to keep up appearances. You’re the next olo’eyktan, the next leader for our people, and I feel like I’m always in your shadow.”

“I get comments from the elders like, “How is it dating the next in line for Olo’eyktan???”” you mocked their shrill voices with a face as you quoted their exact words, the corner of your boyfriend’s lips twitching up in amusement. 

“So..I don’t know. When I finally was seen as a leader myself, with Akxyeì and the others, it felt like I was…free. Free from the expectations that other people put on me.” you bit your lip, imagining how selfish you must’ve sounded to him right now. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neteyam part his lips slightly.

“..I never knew you felt that way,” he half whispered, looking down at his hand and yours, suddenly aching to intertwine your fingers together.

“It’s..not that I didn’t like being with you, you make me so happy,” you let a small smile appear on your face, “It’s just that it makes me feel worse about myself when people only care that I’m your partner. They don’t see me.”

“So…that’s why I’ve been hanging out with my other friends,” the air felt awkward after you finished, and you felt like you had to add on to your words so that the atmosphere didn’t feel so..empty.

“ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything before.”

“.....So I take it you’re still in love with me?” 

You looked up at his totally unserious response, slightly baffled. He had a childishly wide grin on his face. The tears from earlier had already dried up, leaving no trace behind. 

Your mouth was open in surprise of his lighthearted reaction. Had he even heard anything you just said? 

“Just so you know, Akxyeì is totally not more attractive than me,” he pushed on, determined to see one thing and one thing only. 

Your beautiful smile.

And his not-so-cunning ploy worked, as a little grin made its way up onto your face. 

He placed his hand on top of yours, slightly gripping your fingers. “But in all seriousness, I’m sorry too.” 

His mesmerising eyes were widened ever so slightly, as if he was trying to take in more of the sight of you. 

“For what?” you mouthed, the volume of your words barely above a hum. 

“For not noticing how you felt. I’m supposed to be good at gauging other people’s emotions–” he sighed, before you stopped him mid sentence with one of your fingers to his lips. 

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you anything. I was worried you’d feel even more pressured with having to worry about me too, besides everything else already going on,” you tilted your head downwards, glancing once more at the barely illuminated bark you sat on.. 

You wanted to tell him more, to explain further, but the doe look in his eyes as he gently took your finger off his mouth with his free hand told you he’d already understood everything. 

He flipped your hand around, placing a soft kiss on your wrist, maintaining full eye contact with you as he did it. The motion sent butterflies raging frantically in your stomach, the thrill causing you to blush slightly. 

“So. Tell me more about your friends.” he smirked, knowing the full extent of his charm and what it did to you. 

You breathed out, nodding before sitting directly next to him, your hips touching his. You began to recite to him all the fun little adventures you had with your hunting group, and the stupid things Akxyeì would get himself into. 

You couldn’t help but smirk a little bit whenever you felt Neteyam’s hand tighten its grip around yours whenever you mentioned the other boy. 

“And then, one other time- Teyam?” you felt his head weigh on your shoulder. Was he…asleep? 

A small pause followed as you stopped talking, and you just froze completely before narrowing your eyes. 

“..You aren’t asleep, are you?” you rolled your eyes, feeling a chuckle vibrate on your shoulder from his throat. 

You always knew how to read him, and he found it amusing that you were the only person he could never fool. It just added onto his everlasting appreciation for you. 

You watched him as he pulled his head up off your shoulder, smiling as he looked at your face with such fondness that it made you feel weightless. 

“I love you, [Y/N].”

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aw how sweet 😊 isn’t that so sweet?? i'm so sorry if this genuinely sucked ass cause i have no clue how to write sweet stuff..but thank u so much for your req anon! thank u all for 500+ followers, it truly means so much to me guys 😭🙏

i hope you guys enjoyed this! as always, thank u for stopping by my blog 💗💚

much love, lorre.

[historianthesecond]

Hello would you be open to doing something like that one scene in KoS where Nikolai dives in a lake to save a princess (reader) cuz she’s one of the potential brides visiting ravka but reader doesn’t really like Nikolai, she thinks he’s a stuck up royal getting sent all these princesses to choose from and so after he saves her from drowning they have a heart to heart in front of the fireplace?

Hi! I'm so sorry for taking so long 😭

Tbh I loved this idea so much 🥹💕💕 and of course I got a little overboard, but nevertheless, I hope you liked it :3 I'm thinking about making a follow-up part too kshdjdhd

The First to Fall (In Love)

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Princess!Reader

Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers| At the beginning Reader's very prejudiced (sorry) hdhdhd|Crushes| Slow Burn I guess (?)| Implied Marriage of Convenience| Probably too much lore about Reader's kingdom (sorry)| Canon Divergence but you already knew that| Is the title very corny? (Sorry)

You couldn’t blame your advisor for pushing you overboard.

Lady Stell wanted results, and if you weren’t to give them to her and your father, then she’ll seek and harvest them herself. After all, she had married almost all of your elder siblings to their first prospect with pure willpower and cunning convincing. Though when either of those would work with you, she was cornered to use more concrete actions.

She wasn’t at fault for wanting to avoid your father’s rage and the possibility of being dismissed as unreliable. 

It was yours for accepting to come to Rakva for a celebration you were sure wasn’t part of the official festivities of the country. Only meaningful gazes were exchanged between your parents during dinner just before they offered you to visit the Grand Palace as a sign of cooperation between the two kingdoms.

They never told you what kind of cooperation they were thinking about. Not until you saw Lady Stell abording the ship as one of your advisors that you knew their secret intentions. Sadly, it was too late to backtrack your decision.

It was your fault to give in to your curiosity and lean in against the wooden rail to see the golden koi Lady Stell was pointing at, allegedly as big as a puppy. But when you gazed down, the fish was gone, scared by your approaching figure falling into the lake.

A muffled yelp, then a big splash. Perhaps some visitors would have seen the swirl of lavender skirts and heard the creak of the wooden rail of the boat as you toppled over.

The water was cold despite the mist that emerged from its surface, sapphire waters becoming darker and darker no matter how much you tried to swim upwards. Your dress was too heavy, layers of wool and cotton to keep the cold autumn air away as you were more used to the warmer climate of your natal kingdom.

Exhaustion settled in your arms after a few moments; your legs were already tangled in your skirts. Would someone come for you when the Rakvan King decided he wouldn’t get his suit wet? You doubted Lady Stell knew you couldn’t swim, an activity that never appealed to you ever since you almost drowned in one swimming lesson many years ago.

It would’ve been very funny to see the plan fail, if your life weren’t at stake, of course. Despite the amount of shame, you were to feel the moment you break into the surface, part of you hoped for it. Because you didn’t wish to get married—at least, not into the Lantsov family.

Your family had been struck by tragedy when your sister Farelisse got engaged to Prince Vasily. The vain and presumptuous Vasily. You doubted the Young King would be any different, as the traits repeated in the family tree, from father to elder brother, to younger brother, surely. After all, the apple never fell further from the tree.

And upon arriving at the Grand Palace, with the other parties presenting expensive gifts and graceful daughters to his distracted, almost bored, figure sitting on the throne, you were sure of your judgment. The Lantsov continued to be reckless rulers and haughty courtesans,  idling between luxuries and privileges they didn’t truly deserve.

Farelisse had told you about Prince Vasily’s ill fame of pleasure houses and racehorses, fancy gambling, but gambling, nonetheless. Seeing that the His Majesty had disappeared for years when he was supposedly enrolling in the prestigious University of Ketterdam, you could only imagine how much he had squandered the royal coffers on his little adventures.

Did the King take after both his role models and was also akin to being surrounded by pretty women? Because it seemed he was, with all the women he fancied into his own house to play with them as he pleased.

Good thing he was equally charming and easy on the eyes—not that you cared, of course.

And right now, seeing his outline entering the water, diving toward you, His Majesty wished to play the hero.

The King was a very good swimmer, though perhaps everyone was a master swimming in your eyes, his figure cutting through the water as firm hands took your arms, tugging you upwards so he could embrace you by the waist.

Good thing it was dark down here, so he couldn’t notice your growing flustered state. The water didn't help to disguise the grasp of his fingers pressed into your soft skin, wet clothes becoming thin and tight into your bodies.

He wasn’t supposed to touch any of you, not until he had made up his mind about who he will be courting, so having you between his arms was overwhelming. You dug your nails into his shoulders in desperation, and you saw him frowning at the presence of such shameless behavior, eyes shifting between the surface and your face as if saying that you were so close, or that you should at least try to kick if you wanted to ascend faster.

Your lungs burned from holding your breath, and the surface seemed too far away still, as if time had slowed down on purpose. Some bubbles escaped between your lips when you opened your mouth, muscles sore from keeping it forcefully close. But at least the water seemed clear, though you weren’t sure if you felt warmer now because of the water or of because the King's warmth body.

He heaved you first, your face breaking the surface seconds before him, one of his hands on your waist, the other holding your thighs, to balance your body when you curled around him, coughing water over his shoulder, feeling his ragged breaths against your neck.

When your mind cleared enough that the borders of your vision wouldn’t be all blurry, you pushed him away hastily, blaming your adrenaline for the frenetic heartbeats roaring in your ears. The wooden planks of the dock were sturdy and warm, slightly slippery with covered moss as your fingers enveloped one of the posts to propel you up.

Your muscles felt sore, your legs wobbly, but you climbed onto the dock alone, too embarrassed to accept the help of any of the King's guards.

Some seconds after you’ve sat with a dead gaze upon the water, you heard a wet plop next to you, from where you saw the King sitting on the wood boards warm from the weak rays of sunlight peeking between a group of clouds. The wind blew stronger in this part of the Palace where there were no tall buildings to seek coverage, and you couldn’t stop your teeth from clattering, layers of soaked clothes hung to your body.

“Are you alright, My Lady?” he asked softly, looking at you with a gentle smile, blonde hair dripping around his forehead. “Let’s get a Healer to check on you, shall we?”

You shook your head, afraid that the words wouldn’t come out, still feeling the strained muscles from your intense coughing. “No, no, I—I’m fine.” Because you wished to forget what had just happened, and bringing attention to it was the exact opposite of that. But you couldn’t be rude after he just saved your life, so you added after an awkward pause: “… Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The boat you were in was settling next to the dock, and you could see Lady Stell’s black hair moving with each stride as she descended the ramp. There was no way she would let you waste an opportunity of drawing the King’s attention so easily.

“I insist,” he said. “You’re an important guest and your well-being is my priority. Besides,” the King added, eyes traveling along your figure with a concerned look. “You’re shivering, my Lady. I should get you warmed up with a hot drink, so you don’t get sick.”

Lady Stell arrived with your ladies-in-waiting, their hands helping you stand up. For a moment, you thought if it was possible to push your advisor into the lake to create a distraction and flee the scene.

Not that it would help you to blend in as you’ve been doing ever since your arrival.

“Apologies, Moi Tsarevich.” She bowed. “The Lady is quite shy, but she would be very grateful for all your attention and concern, Your Majesty,” she said, grey eyes looking sternly at you, lips pressed in a thin line as if she were expecting you to talk back.

Exemplary princesses didn’t talk back.

You’re being ungrateful, you heard your mind nagging, your eyes drawn to your bare feet, shoes forever lost in the depths of the lake. All they ask is for you to become a Queen, and you’re being an entitled brat. All the people of your nation are giving to you, and this is how you’ll pay them?

You bit the inside of your cheek, head low. Of course, they were right.

You felt the King’s gaze for a moment, and then he walked away, nodding and requesting to build a fireplace and to fetch some blankets for the both of you, just as a change of clothes.

Part of you thought that perhaps that was it all. He had delivered the girl safely to her ladies, he was already the gentleman and the hero. He would let you in peace as you wished, and then you only had to endure a couple of weeks half-hiding behind the pillars of the ballroom, withdrawn to the gardens and lonely balconies on parties where nobody would think of looking. The King would have probably forgotten your face already.

So you let yourself be guided toward a turn in the cobblestone path running along the garden, fluffy blankets pressed around your hair and body as the servants prepared a fireplace neatly outlined with rocks.

You rubbed the soft fabric of the blanket against your cheek, thinking that perhaps they could absorb you, hide you from the upcoming scold of Lady Stell when you returned to your chambers. For now, you tried to relish in the crackling fire, hands extended toward the flames.

In front of you appeared a pair of polished boots, followed by a hand with the Lantsov emerald shining offering you a glass of amber liquid.  

Looking up, you saw the King, his eyes shining. “This will warm you from the inside, My Lady.”

Who could say no to a King? You thought bitterly, taking the glass, careful not to touch his hand.

He noticed, of course, and you hope he thought you wished not to have more inappropriate contact with him after the last events. Though it was only half the story. The rest of your reasons were tucked in a dark corner of your mind, thoughts that were starting to filter when he sat next to you on the blanket.

You huddled closer inside the fabric. From all the empty seats around the fireplace, he had to choose the one closest to him.

“My Lady,” he said after taking a sip of his beverage. “May I ask you a question?”

You just did. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

He leaned in closer to the fire, elbows resting against his knees. “Have I done something to make you avoid me?” he muttered low enough so anybody else could hear the conversation. “If so, I truly apologize. The last thing I want is for any of my guests to feel uncomfortable.”

You doubted that could ever happen with him being so close.

*~*~*~*

“You’re too kind, Your Majesty, but everything is alright,” you said, and Nikolai had to contain a chuckle. You were a terrible liar, and he was a very acute observant.

“Without trying to be rude—I don’t believe you, My Lady. You can’t even look me in the eyes when we’re talking.” Not strike up a conversation with him in any of the past dinners.  

You pressed your lips in a thin line, the outline sharp against the covering blanket. “You heard it, I’m shy.”

This time, Nikolai didn’t contain his amusement. He wasn’t supposed to tease his guests, but perhaps that would be the only way you could talk more than three words in his direction.

 “I think falling into the river is a very bold move for you to be considered shy,” he heard himself saying.

It had been a surprise that the avoiding Princess suddenly had a change of heart and decided to gain his attention in such a… concise way. Though he was sure it was somebody else’s idea, that you only were a piece of the puzzle your advisors had to complete.

 “It was an accident.”

“One too common in novels, don’t you agree?”

You glared at him, the first time he felt acknowledged. The gesture was borderline rude, but he felt relieved of not being ignored anymore—such feeling resurfaced not many good feelings from his childhood that he preferred to ignore.  “Are you accusing me of something, Your Majesty?”

He smiled. “Ah! There is it. You have beautiful eyes, My Lady,” he said because it was true.

While choosing the people who will be attending his festival, his advisors had told him that he had inherited your mother's beauty, and now that you were so close, he can testify that it was true.

If only he could see your smile instead of that resigned pout.

“Have you ever thought that perhaps I don’t like you?” you muttered, the edge of your words coming sharp and hurtful like the edge of his sword.

“If I can be honest with you, my Lady, yes. That idea has certainly crossed my mind, but I wasn’t sure.” He shrugs, trying to brush off the sudden pressure that stepped on his chest. “Usually, the people who despise me try to kill me, so this is new.”

He took another sip of his beverage, hot brandy to warm him from the frigid waters of the lake, to comfort his mind as he tried to come up with a plan. “I’m sure it must be difficult to have a pleasant stay in the Palace if you have such an opinion of me.”

You sighed, playing with the glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. "My father wouldn't have had it any other way.”

Your Father, the King of Rewfel.

His playful aura had changed, with his eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed in a pondering line as he gazed at your dress, overly warm, and the way you were leaning in closer to the fire, still cold. 

The lavender and teal blue colors of your dresses mimic the tropical bays surrounding the kingdom. Rewfel the land of dreams, home of many gemstone mines and the so-called Capital of the Arts, with the myriad of artistic academies that had trained many renowned artists whose pieces were showcased in the private gallery of the Grand Palace.

Nikolai wondered if you had an artistic inclination, too.

A tiny, amicable kingdom thanks to your grandfather and father’s attempts to woven political bonds with every nation possible, ties that strike to be unbreakable. 

“Then I’m afraid we’re in a little predicament, my Lady.” You were one of the most suitable people for him to marry, as your dowry would be bountiful and well-received for the rapidly drying coffers. Not to mention the social influence of your family, even within the Rakvan high society.

By marrying you, he could secure a steady income from the importation taxes of gemstones coming from your kingdom, which could be used for public affairs.

The problem was that you didn’t seem very thrilled about the idea. But why? Surely you had warmed up to the idea of an arranged marriage at this point.

“I don’t think either your father or my Council would be very happy to know that we aren’t on good terms.”   

Always the diplomatic. With some luck, he'll get you to open up about the reason behind such an impression about himself. Had he done something rude toward you without noticing? Surely his Triumvirate would have made him known of such a slip.

Your shoulders sagged. “My father considers we aren’t on good terms already,” you said, so low he had to lean closer to you. “Ever since… well, the last engagement.”

The last engagement—?

Oh. That was the reason he had doubted inviting you, but he didn't wish to be in your father's bad book if Nikolai ignored that his younger daughter was still unmarried when he was looking for a bride.

He wasn't there when your elder sister got engaged to Vasily, much less when she broke off the engagement due to Vasily’s overindulgent behavior. Nikolai can only imagine all the things your sister confided in you after her return to Rewfel; all the pitying looks of the other nobles when she assisted to another party alone because her fiancé was enjoying himself in Caryeva.

For the first time in too long, Nikolai didn't know what to say. It wouldn't be good to apologize, because not only he wasn't guilty of anything, but the person wronged wasn’t here anymore.

“Princess…” he started. It was logical that you didn’t wish to be here, let alone in the same situation your sister was. But he wasn’t like his elder brother, he wasn’t even like the last King, and part of him felt hurt that you would assume so of him. “Princess, I know I have no right to say this to you, but I assure you that I’m not like that. My family had committed many mistakes that I don't wish to repeat, and that prodigal behavior is one of them.” He wanted you to see him, to at least give him a chance to prove himself.

He'd been proving himself to everybody, every day, so what was another one added to the list?

“I understand if you don’t believe me—why would you when I’m having you all inside my home? But at least let me try to prove your assumptions wrong.” Nikolai didn’t wish to make you miserable in the upcoming weeks of your stay in the Grand Palace, and he considered, deep down, that he could strike a closer bond with you, that he could achieve being cast in a new light, one that would set him apart of his family that so much pain has caused on Rakva, and now, even beyond.

You held your head low, eyes wandering across the fireplace. Sometimes he did that, too, gazing across the view before him while pondering his options.

There weren’t many here, of course. You could still antagonize him, and return home without his promise of marrying you—but what would your father do? If he cast away your elder sister for not securing a royal marriage, he would surely do that again.

Or you could give him a chance, and both would end up beneficiated from the deal.

Nikolai wasn’t sure about marrying you yet, but at least the idea didn't sound so bad to him.

For what he knew about the report about you, at least you liked to sail.

“Please, Princess,” he muttered. “Let me be your friend.” Nikolai held his glass toward you, a gentle smile tugging his lips.

You peeked from under the makeshift hood of the blanket, your eyes reflecting the everchanging flames of the hearth. “I can try,” you muttered in what felt like an abysmal silence. And then you nodded as if to convince yourself.

By then some locks of hair had already dried, pocking from underneath the blanket, half-covering your eyes. For a moment, he itched about brushing them away.

He grinned, gesturing toward a servant so they could change your cold beverage for a warm one. “Let’s drink, then, my Lady. For our friendship.”

Sheepishly, you toasted, the glasses clinking as your knuckles almost brushed each other with the movement.

“Do you like it, Princess? It’s the tastiest brandy in the country and my favorite.”

You nodded, the blanket slipping out your shoulders when you started to feel warmer.

Nikolai leaned against the blanket that was already making him sweat—or perhaps he was nervous, who knew?

"I was thinking, my Lady, what about having a walk in the garden tomorrow? I’ve heard you’re very fond of flowers, and Mother was, too. We take care of her garden and the conservatory, and it would be an honor if you would like to see it.”

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. It was too soon, and he was pushing you too fast. Nikolai was about to brush off his idea, but then he heard your voice, clearer than ever:

“I would love to,” you said, and he had to blame the brandy and the fire for making him feel all funny and warm. But perhaps with the dimming light of the dusk, you couldn't see the light blush expanding on his cheeks.

[tavyliasin]

BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 3

I'll be honest with you darlings I had every intention of making this one spicy but then feelings happened? Still, it was fun to write, and an interesting scenario I might re-use at a later date. Shortfic below the cut (still NSFW) with some CW/Tags for angst, hurt/comfort, scars, wounds, mention of character trauma, but I promise it is mostly on the fluffy comforting side~

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Day 3 - Body Worship

It had been far too long since Tav had found an opportunity to bathe properly. Not just scrubbing off with a damp cloth, or dunking into a freezing lake, a proper warm bath. Of course, taking advantage of having access to a brothel’s finer rooms whilst investigating a disappearance was something she took very seriously. She had to be completely certain she wouldn’t miss a vital clue amongst the perfumed soaps and soft towels. Who knew when the last piece of information they needed might be at the bottom of a wine bottle, or lurking in the bowl of fresh fruit…

“Well, that is certainly better than a murky pond.” Astarion echoed her thoughts as he sank into the water beside her. “Gods that feels good.” 

“We should take up the role of investigators more often.” Tav chuckled, reaching for the silver bowl that held a fresh sponge and some soaps. “Here, let me, for once.” 

“You don’t need to-”

“I want to.” She left little room for further complaint, taking his hand in her own and delicately sponging away the dirt that seemed to cling to his nails.

“I am not about to break, you know.” He watched her with an eyebrow raised as she continued to be far more gentle than he felt he deserved. 

“I know.” If anything, Tav slowed slightly, taking a moment to caress his fingers reverently. “But the world has been rough enough with you lately. Is there anything wrong with a little tenderness instead?” 

“Yes- No. Maybe.” He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed each fingertip in turn. “You…Well…” He sighed, giving in to her care instead for now.

“Relax, Astarion, please.” She trailed a line of kisses up his forearm to his elbow, her fingers gently brushing the faint lines of decades old scars and far fresher bruises marking his pale form. “You know, you really are beautiful.” 

“I know.” He replied, out of reflex. “Sorry, old habits… I suppose truly I have no idea if I am or not, other than the parts of myself I can see clearly. Even the water doesn’t hold my reflection any more.”

“Then let me be your mirror.” She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair that threatened to fall forwards into his eye. “Now, where was I?” 

Tav began to wash his other hand and arm, with the same reverence she had used before, but this time giving voice to the thoughts that floated through her mind as she did. 

“Here, your fingers. I could comment on how skilled they are, how you can make me feel, but what I admire most is how they always find a solution. You’ve picked locks, disarmed traps-”

“You can do that just as well as I, my love.” He protested, though just as quickly his arguments met their rebuttal.

“Maybe, but you were the one who unlocked my heart.” Tav laughed at the absurdity of her own statement. “It’s cheesier than an entire dairy, I know, but it’s true. I spent my whole life just going from one fling to the next, living each day like it might be my last. Living like that…well you just don’t think of a future. Or who you might spend it with. It was better to just enjoy what I could when I could. Besides, attachments could be exploited.”

“And you see a future now? With tadpoles in our brains, and the threat of an actual mindflayer Elder Brain looming quite literally over our heads?” Despite his words, his expression was soft in the low light of the room.

“I see one worth fighting for.” She leaned forwards and stole a kiss, but only for a moment, pulling back to leave him wanting more.

“Such a tease, my love.” 

“I learned from the best~” She put on the hint of a flirtatious tone to match his voice. “Anyway… Here. This part next.”

“A scar, darling? Really?” He almost pulled his arm back, like her touch burned the mark deeper into his skin.

“This was not long after we met. I remember worrying that you might lose too much blood if the wound were just a fraction to the left.” Tav dipped the sponge in the warm bathwater again and carefully cleaned the area, rinsing off the soap when she was done. “But that’s not what I think most when I look at it, or any of the other marks that battle has left upon you.”

“Enlighten me, what is it that you see in such a blemish?” Astarion frowned, struggling to see what she meant.

“Endurance. A fight that didn’t end you. A strength that goes beyond what you can lift in your arms.” She sat back a moment, the myriad of scars across her own body clearer to see as she gestured to them. “Something we share, our will to live, and to be more than the world tried to make of us.” 

“Well…I suppose…” He sighed, looking closer at Tav’s form now. Subtle muscles and soft curves, the map of old wounds telling as many stories as his own, and not one of them diminished her beauty in his eyes. “There is some charm to them, maybe.”

She continued to cleanse the sweat and marks of the long days from his body with tender care, her praise like a balm to the bruises on his soul. She almost paused when it was time to move around to his back. “Is it alright if I…?”

“There is nobody I trust more to resist the urge to put a dagger between my ribs.” He mimicked the motion playfully with empty hands as he spoke. “Oh no need to be so serious, my darling, the point is that I trust you. Completely.” 

The vampire shifted, turning his back to her. The view was always a painful one - he was free, but the marks remained, the knowledge of the pain in their making broke her heart if she let those thoughts back in. “Even this,” she began carefully, “has never once diminished your worth.”

Tension rose in his shoulders, even as she tried to massage it away. “A poem of subjugation is all that is, a beautiful lie that promised power.”

“And yet you are more powerful than ever, you didn’t let the lie consume you. How about this instead.” She put the sponge aside, and began carefully tracing her own pattern across his back as if overwriting the scars his past had left. “I’ll write my own verse for you, let it erase the old one.”

“What is it exactly that you’re writing?” A hint of worry tinted the curiosity in his voice as it dropped a little quieter than it had been before. 

She leaned forward and whispered close in his ear. “My wedding vows.”

[mari-lair]

AU where Aoi is a kannagi sacrifice, destined to ‘marry god’, and Akane is her neighbor, despite how little Aoi was allowed to interact with others they were able to talk through their windows, becoming sort of friends. Akane was reprimanded when he tried to invite Aoi to play with the other kids, and was punished harshly when he eventually confessed his love, asking for her hand in marriage. 

The grown-ups convince him her marriage to god will give her utmost happiness, and his selfish actions could curse her, so Akane tries to bury his feelings. He is visibly sad about it, but he values her happiness above his own.

Akane kept a distance as best as he can, making himself busy by helping their poor village with any job needed, but still searching for her in crowds and staring longingly at her window. Aoi got the habit to pretend to sleep, then sneak off to her window to talk to Akane as quietly as possible when her guardian left.

When Akane grow old enough to understand Aoi ‘marriage’ is a sugar coated way to say they will kill her, he stops listening to anyone’s attempt to reason that her death is for the ‘greater good’, and tried to run away with her.

Teru is the one that stops their escape and is assigned as Aoi’s new guardian. He  is given an isolated house to stay with her, tasked to take care of her and not allow Akane to visit. Akane does good work in the village so he avoided exile, but the elders have given Teru permission to kill him if he grows too troublesome.

Akane spends most of his days training to beat up Teru, but he is younger than the exorcist, and his family is average with no magic items, even if he trains until his hands bleed, he has no powers to compete with a hard working minamoto prodigy: He is outmatched every time. 

Teru promise not to kill Akane after Aoi tried to stab him in his sleep, sensing her terror when he had kicked Akane too hard on a rock and made him bleed. Teru accidentally grows attached to Aoi, surprised by how quickly she stop to struggle and how 'sweet' she had grown after a week. They had many meaningless chats that Aoi doesn’t enjoy but that serves to fill the gloomy silence, each late night talking session growing less tense and awkward by the week. Is the most unsupervised interaction with someone close to their age that the two have ever gotten. After a while he start to take her to lakes, and trips around the village, letting her take flowers ‘home’ and create a garden.

Teru sees Akane so much because of his constant attempts to break Aoi out, that he grows fond of him, able to have full chats when Akane attempts to sneak in only gets him tangled up in Teru’s traps, hanging on the ceiling at his mercy.  Teru would go as far as to look forward to what new strategy Akane would use, consider him his friend. Akane mostly sees him as a demon for knowing this village plan to kill Aoi and still choosing to do his duty, fighting Akane until he blacks out from exhaustion (even if Akane is confused to always wake up somewhere warm and safe after blacking out). 

Teru wants to let Aoi escape with Akane very badly but he doesn’t allow himself to fail his given duty, aware his family would suffer greatly if he disobey, and that his failure would affect Kou and Tiara.

Teru eventually let Akane talks to Aoi, either while he is trapped, or when he is too exhausted from a fight to attempt to run away. And Akane is baffled that Aoi is okay with Teru, considering him a friend even. She seems oddly at peace, happy when Akane give her flowers seeds and talk to her with wild gestures like they used to comunicate in their house windows. When Akane ask if she is keeping a brave face for him, Aoi admit that she is okay with dying and he doesn't have to trouble himself in this fouls errant anymore. He can just visit to talk: That is enough for her, she doesn’t really care about this life anymore.

Akane can tell there is more to it than what she told him, but she doesn’t open up and her death day is far too close for comfort.

Akane grows desperate, he tries to convince Teru to let Aoi go, managing to shake his composure and see how unhappy the exorcist is about the events, but unable to change his mind: Teru has a duty as an older brother before a friend. Akane threatens to damage Aoi next, so she is unfit for an offering to god, preferring her hurt than dead, but his attempt just makes Teru forbid him from meeting Aoi ever again and he apologizes to her, feeling awful about it.

Akane eventually hit rock bottom and seek a supernatural that can give him power: It doesn’t matter if he gets cursed to gain this power, as long as Aoi is alive, and free from their gloomy village, he’ll do anything.

[fatehbaz]

Indigenous knowledge and food sovereignty on the prairies. Native plants and history of farming in the the northern Great Plains. Maskēko-sākahikanihk (Muskeg Lake Cree Nation), Wipazoka Wakpa Oyate (Sioux Valley Dakota Nation), and Piikani First Nation recent approaches to sustainable food production. Bison grazing and grassland health on Piikani land.

---

Indigenous peoples had lived and farmed the area centuries before European contact. [...]

Melissa Arcand is a soil scientist and associate professor at the University of Saskatchewan, and she grew up on a modern grain farm at Maskēko-sākahikanihk, or Muskeg Lake Cree Nation, north of Saskatoon. [...] Saskatchewan has more farmland than any other Canadian province. [...]

The yard is full of trees, including poplars, spruce and Manitoba maples — the fast-growing hardy species that form a protective wind-break around farm yards across the Prairies. Patricia shows me her vast garden on the south side of the yard. She has corn, squash, sunflowers, carrots, peas, flowers and shrubs of haskap and saskatoon berries. [...]

First Nation grain farmers are rare everywhere. In most cases, farmable land on the dozens of First Nation reserves across the plains of Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta is rented out to non-Indigenous farmers who live nearby. That came up as a concern during a forum Arcand organized on Indigenous farming in Saskatchewan in 2018. In forum discussions, attendees resolved to take greater control over farming activities on their lands. [...]

---

Eugene Ross has a slow, soothing voice. [...] Ross is an Elder at Wipazoka Wakpa Oyate, literally “Saskatoon river people”, the Dakota name for Sioux Valley Dakota Nation. It lies at the forks of the Assiniboine and Oak Rivers, 50 kilometres west of Brandon, Manitoba [...].

Entering the plains from the rugged forest landscape of the Canadian Shield feels like dropping through a hatch in the back of a wardrobe. They are completely different worlds. West of the uber-flat Red River Valley, just beyond the town of Austin, the landscape begins to undulate, like a sloppily made bed. From there, the Prairies fold and flatten, roll and settle, in all directions, seemingly forever. Canada has 154 million acres of farmland, according to Statistics Canada’s 2021 census, and 126 million of those are in the Prairie provinces of Saskatchewan, Alberta and Manitoba. [...]

“Our Tylenol back in the day,” he says, pointing to Seneca root. From a ceiling hook, Ross takes down a string of white tubers, each about the size of a big toe: wild turnips. [...]

Production of another oilseed relative, Brassica napus, now the most common species on the Prairies, began in the 1940s. [...] In 1978, this improved crop got a new name: canola. Western Canadian farmers now grow canola on more than 20 million acres [...].  Canola is a cool-season crop that thrives in Western Canadian growing conditions. Ross knows a long list of native plants traditionally used for food and medicine that also thrive in the region. While highly unlikely that any will become the next canola, they could underpin a more diverse farming future. [...]

---

You can see Piikani First Nation from the cliff’s edge at Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta. [...] Today that great green sea, whipped by winds from a cascade of buffalo ghosts and bisected by the Old Man River, is Piikani territory. Noreen Plain Eagle is the land manager for Piikani First Nation and its 106,000 acres. [...]

Food sovereignty is a priority. Piikani’s reliance on outside food became acutely clear in the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic when food companies, overwhelmed by supply chain issues, could not deliver their usual supply. Piikani nearly ran out of fresh food. It was a call to action for Plain Eagle. “We don’t want to be at the mercy of someone else to provide food to our community,” she says. “We want food sovereignty.” [...]

The next phase is to build a greenhouse at the school to produce a wider variety of vegetables. “We will use it as a hands-on teaching tool for students,” Plain Eagle says. “Terminology will be in the Blackfoot language.” [...] Plain Eagle also has plans to grow corn and potatoes for the community, and to think more strategically about the nation’s small bison herd. “Bison have always been part of our history,” she says, “and we’re learning how they can contribute to our grassland health.” Grasslands need a keystone grazer, like bison or cattle, to keep the grass in check and maintain grassland biodiversity. [...]

---

Text by: Jay Whetter. “The true history of farming on the Prairies.” The Narwhal. 8 October 2022. [Bolded emphasis and italicized first paragraph added by me.]

[eastwindmlk]

By the time that seventh year rolled around, some people had developed an uncanny ability to spot the look on McGonagall’s face. The look meant that someone was getting bad news. It had mercifully evaded people too close for much longer than any of them had expected. Longer than any of them could have hoped for. But when her shadow appeared behind them at lunch, her severe look pained and her lips pinched, and the entire Gryffindor table held their breaths. Eyes roamed the rows, watching for the poor bastard being picked out of the line.

What no one expected was that the hand would land on James’s shoulder, and there was a collective gasp. All the eyes were checking on the half-blood or less students. The kinds of people that were the prime targets of these tragedies.

Getting up from his seat caused a hushed whisper to start floating along the table. Like fire, it spread in every direction. By the time the shocked-looking head boy was out of the Great Hall, it had reached the far corners.

The nervous mutters caught on quickly; even the paintings were talking about it. By the time they reached the office of the head of house, James could hear them already:

‘The Potters?’ ‘They’re targeting purebloods now?’ ‘What does that mean for the 28?’

And all James wanted to do was yell at them and tell them that it could be anything. His parents were fine; this wasn’t anything like that. For the first time ever, he hoped that they’d been found out. He was just being stripped of his badge, and that was that. He prayed all the way up those stairs. Eyes on his dragging feet.

The office smelled like tea, a red flag. They all knew she would offer the poor sods a cup of tea. “Sit down, Mister Potter. Have a biscuit.” The professor told him, her voice gentler and more pained than usual. More red flags. “I’d rather not, professor. If that means you’re not going to say what I think you are,”

There was a silence where the pair looked at each other, coming to a silent understanding. Ending with James sitting down and taking a ginger snap from the tin, unable to bring himself to eat it. Dunking it in the cup of tea in front of him. Listening to the elder witch speak as it slowly devolved into the steaming cup.

Waiting for the ringing in his ears was the only thing he could hear before pushing himself up onto his feet. “Thank you, professor.” Somewhere in the flurry of his thoughts, the young Gryffindor remembered to smile politely before fleeing from the room. Fingers already pulling at the knot of his tie, hoping that would fix the tightness in his throat,

Eyes still on the flagstone ahead of him, he noticed too late that someone was in his path. He collided with them suddenly, reeling back. Carefully manicured fingers grabbed onto his shirt, keeping both of them upright. “I don’t want to talk.” He protested reflexively, not wanting to see the look of pity that was surely on the redhead’s face.

“Fine, then we walk.” Dismissing her remark with a shrug, James continued his track down the hallway. Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, he could avoid the eyes and the whispers. Pushing through hidden corridors and gliding down the back stairs. Anything to avoid the crowds.

All the way down to the backdoors, he could hear the sound of Lily’s loafers following him all the way down. Every sharp corner, every skipped step. Pausing only after pushing the door open to caution him. “James, it’s raining. You’re going to get sick.” Only making him pause long enough to tell her. “I’ll be fine.” Expecting her to turn back, she was right there, crunching the leaves underfoot.

By the time they were halfway to the lake, the rain had soaked through the robes, and the November cold was seeping into his skin. Lily was right; if he kept going, he would probably get sick. But he could not find it in himself to care. Not when the biting wind was the only thing stopping him from breaking down. It drowned out everything around him. He was hoping that, in the silence, he would find a way to go back to class. To carry on with his day, plan a funeral.

“James!” Lily’s voice cut through the fog, insisting, and likely not the first time she had attempted to catch his attention. Her fingers closed around his soaked sleeve and tugged. His body responded to her silent demand. His cold body was met with her heating charm. The warmth unexpectedly shattered the walls he’d put up.

“You don’t need to run, but if you do, I am going to be right there.”

[bluravenite]

CW// nameless ghouls headcanons, ptsd, trauma, emotional abuse, physical abuse, fainting, bleeding, dew is depressed, mild implications of suicidal thoughts.

So get this right?

Older ghouls are less and less human like,, first and second era ghouls are almost untouchable, creatures roaming around the abbey cryptically mainly pertaining to their happy corners. earth has primos private garden, water ghouls have a private almost hidden lake that even the newer ghouls do not know much about, fire, air, quintessence mainly take to their private quarters, again only to be seen every other lunar eclipse or especially warm summer night or cold winter morning.

Terzo's ghouls however, are more humanoid ish...they can be reasoned with a lot less than slightly feral pets, but they still contain less humanity than newer ghouls. Between each other it's not so very gentle, with papa? They're all his. And they all would murder for their papa. Omega, and alpha especially, mist and zephyr are some of the most reasonable, but mist runs low in patience where as earth has a lot more. Ifrit is like a young pup, he takes after omega and alpha but not nearly as ancient or wise as mist or earth, definitely lacks the patience too. He's harder to reason with at times. Cowbell is genuinely one of those you don't understand why they're there, he's not very hard to reason with but also not very reasonable at all. He mainly keeps to himself and if you ask him something nicely enough he might do it, but only if he feels like it. Otherwise there's not really any reasoning done, he'll say "sure" and then completely ignored you.

There is a single difference between era 3 and era 4 ghouls. It's dewdrop. He gets summoned at a weird time, not quite as ancient as the other ones, in fact, the youngest by far, and unfortunately a lot more human like. Hence, his relationship with the elder ghouls is complicated from the very start. He has to perform to standards, he has to stand almost as tall as the others, he has to fit in or else he's waste. And the older ghouls don't hate him but they don't know the act of going easier on him, they aren't as good at compassion simply because they don't feel as much, unless is for their papa. So often times things go wrong. Dew gets real fucked up about it, he feels like shit, like he's worth half a penny compared to the million dollar ghouls in front of him, they give him and give him and give him and he doesn't know any better than to take and take and take until he's so overwhelmed that it all breaks down. He breaks down. Collapsed, warm liquid trickling down, he bleeds red unlike the older ghouls. Omega pulls him to his feet, he raised his voice, something about what where you thinking, but dews hearing is all muffled from the concrete, everything spins and he can't even bring himself to hold on to Omega, alpha pulls him back to rest on him while omega brings a flashlight to his eyes, mist checks him but the light hurts his head, the world is beating like his heart and he can feel it in his throat. Ifrit warms a bath they pull him in, zephyr brings him tea, gives him some mint, zephyr holds his face and tells him something "alright" is all dew can gather, he feels someone's arms still holding him upright while mist cleans the blood off his face but the hold isn't gentle, it's not enjoyable, and the roughness with which mist wipes his forehead is like that of cleaning rust off old jewelry. He feels broken. And then they all leave one by one, he is bathed and healing, he is sitting in his chair, he won't pass out as long as he stays occupied, we will check on him every hour or so, just to make sure he's still alive. Some are even tender, mist holds his head, covers him with a blanket, zephyr brings him books he sits with the small water ghoul at times, omega and alpha barely speak, ifrit is stubborn as always talking about some thing they should do once he feels better, but they're all so distant. Dew feels abandoned, outcast, like he'll never really understand how the pack works, why he's different, where he went wrong.

He collapses several times throughout though rarely ever again as serious as that one, sometimes from exhaustion, sometimes he just literally shuts down. Like when it gets too loud, omega is yelling something, ifrit moves just a little too fast, he doesn't have time to hold on to the figures standing close to him before the world spins again, he feels nauseous, he wakes back up in the couch, nobody around, an old wrapped sandwich in a Tupperware next to him, and a glass of water, they'll leave him to die some day. Worse, they'll send him back to the pit.

But they never do, instead they keep scolding him, yelling something about needing to keep up, needing to take care of himself, look less miserable. Imperator pulls him aside tells him that he'll be needed elsewhere soon enough, that the older ghouls are due to retire eventually, but he still has potential. She promised him the world, shows him off to the new summons, for a moment he feels wanted, worth something. And then they drag papa away. It's a wreck, everything's silent at first, then the noise begins again. He gets dragged away, kept from the older ghouls, he feels a swirl of emotions and yet he knows he was never so connected to papa as the older ghouls were, with him longer, closer, not simply an accessory as he often felt. And yet it hit him hard, all the ghouls hurt, even the new ones were reminded of their places. And then it seemed to be calm, go back almost how it was before, still mostly work, but with new hopes. The older ghouls rarely addressed him, except for ifrit who might've joked about hanging out again a couple times, mist who still caressed the hair by his shoulder with her tail as she passed by, and zephyr, who was often found wandering the gardens only to silently offer him a flower bud as he wandered by with his cane. Dew appreciated it, but it was never quite enough, why would they ever care about him?

And then it happened. Blazing fire, a burning pain, ashes and smoke clouding his vision, it hurt to breathe, to think, to exist. His skin ached like a thousand pinpricks, he didn't know who he was anymore, his body as foreign as his mind, emotions as distant as if they belonged to anyone else,but as strong as if they cut right through his heart with sharpened claws. He was broken again, and again, and again, and again, and he'd never be unbroken again. Just... Different than before...

[soda-n-dinos-andmore]

HEAD CANNON TIME

I just think it’d be ✨ neat ✨to have some fun little court ship rituals in the clans. Some variation in traditions between em! They feel super similar so, here’s some head cannons for each clan on different cultural traditions and junk.

Thunderclan

When the leafbare hits, there’s a day of quiet mourning for what winter has taken before. Patrols are still sent out, but the cats keep quiet and huddle to preserve warmth. The honoring of the end of a cycle. That night at sunset the cats gather and pray to the fallen for an easy Leafbare.

Newleaf would be marked by a day of joy and celebration. Flowers and feathers are gathered and placed into the fur of loved ones. At sun high everyone gathers in camp and enjoys life and laughter. The joy of new beginnings and a celebration of survival.

Courtship for thunderclan is based off of impressing your potential mate(s) in anyway possible at first. Hunting or other basic important tasks to clan life are key. Cats can be picky about how capable a potential mate is at these simple tasks!

When a thunderclan warrior feels they’ve impressed the other(s) they’re courting, they start being more affectionate. Words of affirmation and adoration as well as physical touch. The one doing the least amount of courting is often expected to either be the one to ask or blankly refuse mateship. if the other(s) gets impatient they can ask themself/themselves

Windclan:

Mid-greenleaf wind clan cats in the forest have a celebration of the tunnelers and all the work they do to keep the clan safe. Newer tunnelers often are given gifts from kin to celebrate. Kits born on this day are seen as blessed by the first tunnelers and therefore, normally become tunnelers. Digging out and navigating the tunnels is a lot of work, and tunnelers often have longer apprenticeships due to all the extra things to learn.

With no tunnels, the lake territory replaced this day with a celebration of summers bounties. Gifts are given to any loved one and warriors helping watch the kits so the queens get a break.

First crescent moon of new-leaf Elders tell the kits the tale of the first medicine cat and the medicine cats often go to the moonstone/moon pool to strengthen their connections to star clan.

courtship is marked by one cat singing to the cat or cats they are trying to woo. They would most likely start to cuddle after this event, and the leader and the closest kin of the cats involved is usually told within the next moon or so. The leader and whatever kin was told would plan an event for the cats so it could be made truly official and public. That event would happen around dawn and be a celebration of love.

The next step would be a competition of some sort. The winner would collect the material for the nest and the loser would create the nest, marking the end of courtship, and the start of being true mates. A tie would mean the material and nest would both be a joint effort.

Windclan burials are filled with stories of the cats life, traded from loved one to loved one. A leaf is tucked into the pelt of the deceased by every loved one mourning the cat, so they do not forget their loved ones back in the land of the living. Each cat whispers their goodbyes and then the elders take the corpse away to be buried.

This post is too long so I’ll probably make a part 2 later. It’s also suuuuper late right now.

[wispstalk]

OC prompt meme: Coradri, 7

7 - personality

The life of a Grandmaster, when it comes down to it, is not so different from the life of a monk. Jauffre spends most of his days in seclusion, elbow-deep in ink and paper. Takes his meals alone at his desk, so there is minimal interruption to his work.

Usually the kitchen is empty by the time Jauffre finally remembers to break his fast. This time it is not. Tanis, as he often does when Jauffre enters a room, leaves. Coradri remains, spooning jam into a helmet with the focus of a surgeon.

“Coradri,” he says wearily, “what are you doing?”

“I am putting jam in Baurus’s helmet.” She reaches in to smear it around, not looking up from her work. “He beat me, sparring this morning, so.”

No further explanation comes; such vengeance, to her, is a foregone conclusion. She licks jam from her fingers.

“These little games of yours waste time and,” he says, “not to mention resources. All our stores must be brought up by mules, you know.”

“Oh, I only put about a spoonful in,” she says, and spoons in more. “It’s not that much. If I came in here and ate it instead, you wouldn’t call that waste, would you?”

He must, in fact, account for two extra mouths that refuse to speak the Blades’ vows. He tries not to think of this as waste; he tries not to resent it. The Hero of Kvatch proved himself bloody and efficient, and the girl's wiles come part and parcel with his presence. Jauffre will not disturb their fragile peace and cast aside allies. And thus he finds himself negotiating with a hellion who sees him not as spymaster or diplomat or elite guard to the highest office in all Tamriel, but as a sort of crotchety uncle.

“Coradri.” Jauffre sighs as if to squeeze one last drop of patience up from his diaphragm. “We can't afford any lapses in vigilance. Our fortress could be attacked, and I have all of a dozen Blades to defend the last surviving heir to the Ruby Throne. When they’re not sleeping, they are on duty, and your little… pranks… interfere.”

The Elder Council has abandoned us, he wants to add. The legion is overwhelmed and bleeding numbers, through casualty or desertion, and the counts and countesses have hunkered down within their walls to weather out the storm, and the common folk are fleeing only to find there is nowhere to go. Some part of him longs to lay out all he learns in his correspondences, to show someone else the way this crisis creeps to every edge of his map like a slime mold.

But he won’t; he knows how to bear such weight alone.

Still no answer. The girl studies him with candid eyes and a slight smile, smooth and transparent as pure water. The perfect, practiced innocence of a liar so seasoned she can evade the need for it at all. She really would, he laments, make an excellent Blade.

“I’m not stupid,” she finally says. “I know why we’re here. But I think you have to laugh, even now, especially now. Otherwise we might as well march south and throw ourselves in the lake. Yeah?”

Jauffre lets his head hang. A half-smile tugs insistently at the corners of his mouth.

“I doubt Baurus will be laughing,” he says wryly.

“But I will,” she trills, and sets the helmet aside.

He leans his chin in his hands. “Your help has been invaluable to us, you know. I don’t want to have to scold you like some unruly child.”

Coradri snorts. “What are you gonna do, then, take away my birthday?”

The door to the east wing opens, and Jauffre hears the familiar clank-and-scrape of lamellar armor. Baurus pokes his head around the corner. “Ah! There it is.”

Coradri throws Jauffre a warning look. “You left it in the kitchen after breakfast,” says she who surely stole it from the barracks. “And it took you this long to notice? I’d say that shows a certain laxity, Captain Baurus. A lapse in your vigilance.”

“Thanks, Coradri,” he says flatly, and strides out with it under his arm. Not a breath later, they hear a yelp and a string of curses from the other side of the door. Jauffre rolls his lips inward, containing himself.

Clanking footfalls approach the east wing door. Coradri is already halfway out the kitchen window. “Don’t you dare laugh,” she says, throwing a stern look over her shoulder. “Back to your duties!”

[thewritersaddictions]

Request: Joyce Byers- Dismayed

Pairing: Joyce Byers x Fem!Reader

Pov: Joyce

Warning: hospital warning, hurt, confessing love, LGBTQ+ community, second mom feelings, brother hopper, gay panic,

Summary: When Hopper's sister is in the hospital, Joyce goes crazy so crazy that she confesses something insane to even think.

WC-

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers; This was requested by @xscarlettxbelovax I hope you enjoy.

Stranger Things Master List

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Hopper and I have known each other since we were in high school together. We didn’t do a lot together, but we would take smoke breaks out in the back of the school trying out hardest to stay away from old gym teacher who never seemed to notice that we were gone from class. 

Hopper and I spent some other time together, but it was always Hoppers sister and I who went out and did things. Y/n and I would go shopping at the strip malls in the outer towns lines. She would drive us to the lake and during the summer we would sun bathe. All while talking about the guys that would never have a chance with us. 

It was funny, Y/n and I had only meant because of Hopper. A party for the last year of the 50’s/. Jim had brought cigs, and alcohol while Y/n and I had trued our hardest to gather the hottest guys from the school. Y/n and I didn’t bother staying for to long just long enough to watch the drunks guys try there shot at ping pong shots, and beer kegs stands. 

Years went on and Jim left for the army, and I married Byers. Everything was going smoothy. Y/n and I had lost connection when she moved with Jim to New york and it was just the end of that. I had my kids Jonathan and Will. My boys after their father had left. Everything was going fine. Smoothly I thought at least. 

1983 

That’s when everything went wrong and right at the same fucked up time. Will had gone missing, 12 years old and just gone in the middle of the night. I needed some sort of help, and there was nobody else to think of besides Mr. Jim Hopper. He was now the chief of police in our little town of Hawkins and I need so desperately the help of a Hopper.

Now four years later and after fighting the monsters of the upside down and watching so many hurt and even killed. Eveyrthing was at peace. Jim’s sister had come back after Hopper had sent her a call telling her that Will had been lost and then found again, and that he had adopted a girl by the name of Jane. 

Y/n came back. She was as beautiful as she was when we were in high school thirty years ago. She stood a little taller then her brother, and wasa force to be reckoned with as she told her brother what to do most of the time when she arrived to Hawkins. 

It had been a few days since I had last heard from Y/n as I had taken a trip with my boys down to florida. A much needed trip to get away from the bullshit town of Hawkins and the horrible things that seemed to taint the town in darkness and cruelty. It was also a chance to let Jonathen to see what else was out there for schools. 

Our last night in the hot florida air, I called a direct phone call to Hawkins. To Y/n’s home but the call was sent to her answering machine. It had been going to the answering machine for the past week. I gathered maybe that Y/n had just been out of the house every time I called. 

That was far from the truth when we arrived back in Hawkins. The drive back home felt like there was something wrong. The deep seeded feeling in the pit of my stomach was telling me something was going wrong as we drove home. Everything told me to stop the car and call Hopper, but if something had gone wrong then he would have called would have tired at least. 

Y/n, Jim, and I were the best of friends. The past four years bringing us closer then we were in high school. The trauma and the stress of losing my kids and the help of Y/n and Jim in the search for Will. Like I had thought something was wrong. 

Very wrong. 

When I went over to Y/n’s. Something felt off, her light were off and the door was locked. I took a minute before letting my anxiety get the best of me. I didn’t need another break down, another missing person that I loved. Disappeared within only a few days. I called Jim. I needed answers to my ever growing questions that were storming in and through my mind.

The phone rang and rang through, until it stopped. It was El who answered the phone. “Hello??” I said as the line finally went through. “Hey, Ms.Byers.” El responded. “Where is Hopper? Where is Y/n? She’s not at her house and she hasn’t been answering her phone.” I rambled on and on, until I was what felt like out of air to breathe and words to say. 

El started to explain.

“Ms.Byers, Aunt Y/n is in the hospital. She was at home when it happen Hopper and I went by to visit for lunch when she must have fell and hurt herself while trying to get things done before the hot summer air killed what looked like her garden. Hopper said that you would call and to tell you that they were in the hospital.” Eleven went on to explain that Hopper had called the EMS shortly after finding her and realizing that she was still alive. 

I hung up the phone after Eleven finished her sentence. Running out from Y/n’s house I didn’t even have time to check the road behind me as I pulled out from the drive way. I speed but least be honest the only that cares what I do I me, and maybe Hopper but he’s not exactly the greatest driver in the world. 

 I drove so fast that when I managed to get into the hospital I was nearly out of breathe. When I walked into the hositpal the reception lady was so sweet. She lead me towards the hospital guide. “You’ll just go down that hallway and turn left. You just need to get to ICU right?” She asked me. I shook my head and fiddled my fingers. “Alright sweetie, just go right down. If anyone stops you just tell them you’re trying to get to your friend.” She said before I left trailing down the hallway. 

When I made it to Y/n’s room I just stood out in the doorframe. She looked so at peace. Her hands were above the sheets that covered her body. I just stood there for a few moments. “She’s just been sleeping for the past few couple of days.” I heard Jim say from behind me. I stayed still. “What happened?” 

It was a inquisitive question by all means. One that Jim probably had no answer for. I bet even Y/n didn’t have an answer for me. “The docs say it was something to do with vertigo. She had fallen into her garden. Hit her head pretty hard on the ground gave herself a good hit on the noggin’. El and I were able to find her pretty soon.” Hopper said. 

I could feel the tears starting to roll down my cheeks. As I tired desperately to not be loud and erupt into a fountain of tears. Jim hugged me as I crumlbed from the inside out. The tears only last a few moments before I pull away from Jims grip on me and my shoulders. I take a shaky breathe before looking up at Jim. “Can I go sit with her?” I ask him. He gives me a short smile before leading me into the cold room. 

“I’ll call Jonathan, and Will let them know where their mother went, okay Joyce.” Jim said behind me as I gathered myself to sit beside Y/n. We sat for a few minutes as Jim left the room to give us some privacy. I started speaking. 

“You know Y/n I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous about walking into a hospital. Or hell even getting to see a person I love. I know I’m the best most of the times, and I get flustered all of the times. Y/n.” I continued saying, but the squeeze of my hand gave me distraction. 

“Joyce you mustn’t worry about me like you always have.” Y/n said. I couldn’t help myself but start to cry. I tired to resist the urge to hug her but Y/n opened her arms up to me and gave me the strength to fall into her arms. “Oh, Y/n you can’t scare me like that. I wou;dn’t know what to do with out you in my arms.” 

“Is that a confession?” Y/n asked in a sweet and addicting voice. “A confession of what I already know.” Y/n continued on. I curbed my smile, before falling even more into what for the first time I was reliaze was something called love. 

“We can say it at the same time, if you’d like?” Y/n asked. “Say it at the same time?” I questioned. “Joyce, at the same time.” Y/n said with a smile on her face. The urge to smile was grand and I fell into the best kiss of my entire life. Nothing with my ex-husband had ever felt likethis. A tiny teenaged makeouts ever felt like this either. 

Sparks of flowing nature. 

Will and Jonthan walked in with Jim behind them. “Aunt Y/n, We’re so glad you’re okay. Mom said something was wrong and dropped us off at the house and drove off like a maniac.” Will said in a ramble of words.

Completed on: 08/09/2022

Posted on: 08/10/2022

The Elders-

[frostfour]

Is Blackfoot still alive when Skyclan rejoins the other clans? Also...how do the other clans take Skyclan now, without Firestar knowing about them, the other clans don't either. Also...it'd be hilarious if Russetstar was still alive when Skyclan rejoins with Blackfoot/star(?)

Sorry this response has taken to so long! As you can see I definitely took the prompt and ran with it haha. Full disclosure I haven't actually read the series Skyclan returns to the lake (AVoS?) so timeline wise I have no idea if Blackfoot would still be alive canonically but for the sake of a fun AU yes he 100% is.

This is where Skyclan Blackstar shines over having Leafstar lead. Even if Blackfoot founded modern Skyclan, the clan is as much shaped by the other members and he lacks power. Despite the outrage his initial appearance would spark among the other clans I doubt it would be worth it for the other clans to exile him again. He is a beloved elder in Skyclan and ultimately is their problem, other clans have sheltered worse (Bluestar willingly sheltered Brokenstar for a period of time). He will never be able to attend a gathering and avoids straying too close to the borders but is content in Skyclan. For the other clans the entirety of Skyclan is around to keep him in line.

So for the rest of this I'll be talking about the Blackstar & Leafdapple route of the AU. Continued underneath because this post got long.

The clans reacting to Skyclan's arrival at the lake

It shakes the lake clans to the core since it challenges a lot of what they thought of their culture. During OOTS there was a larger focus on the clans coming together when necessary that continued on. Even with the Great Journey after the old territory was destroyed the clans refused to leave until Riverclan joined them. So to hear that Skyclan had been put into a similar position and their ancestors just let them die out - there's definitely a knee jerk reaction to it all. They don't want to believe it.

Blackstar loses a lot of the credibility of the message and a significant portion of cats straight up accuse him of lying. Oh a whole clan just happened to be exiled? Really? What a coincidence "guy who was obsessed with power and famously exiled". It's convenient that this version of events leaves the lake clans as villains and Blackstar as a righteous leader.

With some time to prove himself and how the rest of Skyclan trusts him fully the other clans come around to it in the end. Even if they personally do not like Blackstar he would be nearing the end of his leadership and they can't turn away a whole clan on the faults of a single member. I imagine the gathering they all show up the medicine cats across all the clans just make a beeline for the moonpool to check the legitimacy of Blackstar's account the second they are dismissed.

Bramblestar and Onestar aren't thrilled to have him back among their ranks but they still begrudgingly defend the rights of Skyclan to rejoin them by the lake. Neither were as intimately acquainted to his war crimes as the other leaders and denying a clan sent by Starclan is just not worth it. Bramblestar, having been compared to Tigerstar his whole life, would probably also be more likely to give him a chance as he looks like he has genuinely changed. But of course what would Riverclan and Shadowclan's leadership think?

Russetstar is leader of Shadowclan

She is pissed that he has shown up with an entire clan in tow and is incredibly untrustworthy of him. She remembers what he was like as a deputy in the forest and the atrocities that they witnessed and just can't believe he is a leader now. If he is a leader with morals, where were these morals when Brokenstar and Tigerstar were around? When their clan needed protection? Instead she ended up breaking the cycle and building up her clan from the wreckage left after TPB. She is incredibly concerned with the welfare of Skyclan remembering what the clan before her was like and urges for Blackstar to be sent back into exile and for Skyclan to appoint a new leader. She is solely focused on Blackstar and being an ex-loner herself has no issue with the rest of Skyclan.

Russetstar and Blackstar would be an interesting mirror for each other. Blackfoot blaming Russetfur for everything when he loses it all but gains peace with himself by finding a life in Skyclan knowing that his problem was never with her. Russetstar seeing him return would immediately be ready to fight him again over his position of leader, how he isn't to be trusted and push for him to be exiled. Russetstar finds peace with the fact Skyclan are safe with him and despite all the reasons under the sun she rightfully despises him he never did turn out to be another Tigerstar or Brokenstar like she feared.

Tigerstar ii is leader of Shadowclan

Okay this bullet is not very serious but while you think Russetstar still kicking would be funny I raise to you: Tigerstar ii. Blackstar hears Tigerstar is the great and noble leader of Shadowclan and has a heart attack. Did he rise from the grave? Why is everyone so calm? How are they angry at him when Tigerstar is around? Then he sees him and he looks the spitting image of Tigerstar but the tom in front of him is far, far too young to be the actual cat of nightmares. Tawnypelt is like "That's my boy Tigerstar! Proud of you!" and Blackstar has to take a minute to hound Tawnypelt like "Tawnypaw why in Starclan's name is THAT the prefix you decided on?"

Meanwhile Tigerstar ii is the only leader to have never met Blackstar in his life, and is confused out of his mind. He has no clue what to think, everyone seems angry and scared of this cat claiming him to be Blackfoot from the forest but that can't be right. Blackfoot is an evil cat with glowing red eyes who tried to steal away the great Russetstar's leadership and eats kits or some nonsense. He's known as an executioner but he brought together a whole clan and hardly comes across as more bloodthirsty than Onestar. He seems unnecessarily angry when he tells him he has Tigerstar's support though...

Mistystar the leader of Riverclan

And finally the big one. She would absolutely give Skyclan the ultimatum of exiling their leader or she declares war on them. Honestly who could even blame her? She got a front row seat to Tigerclan in which he was among the highest ranking members, imprisoned with her apprentice and he killed her own brother in front of her. Even after all these seasons he's still alive, having gotten the power he wanted while Stonefur is dead and Stormfur left the clans. She would be livid he is back and would remind the clans why he was exiled and how if it weren't for the truce of the full moon she would be chasing him down already. And when Skyclan respond like "We know what he did but he has changed. We wouldn't have our clan without him." She snaps a bit, all of them are complicit and isn't even going to give them the chance of building a second Tigerclan.

Her deputy Reedwhisker would've seen the horrors of Tigerclan and what happened to her during that time. He wouldn't be leaping at their defence. Mothwing never experienced it first hand but grew up in the aftermath and remembers what Hawkfrost was like (his throwaway line about Tigerstar never being such an enemy to Riverclan was such wasted opportunity). Plus Mothwing is unable to go to the moonpool and verify for herself so even though she goes she just has to trust in what the other medicine cats say. Riverclan has no real reason to trust the story given by Blackstar.

Once she has time alone with her clan and space away from Skyclan they are able to decompress. A lot of the cats who don't remember the forest are furious and don't want to be part of a war with an innocent clan sent by Starclan who have already lost a home. The Kin are their enemy. Mistystar never follows through on the threat of an all out war between the two clans, the danger of The Kin is too pressing, but she ensures Skyclan stays far away from her borders. Any kind of alliance between Riverclan and Skyclan is unsalvageable until Blackstar dies and leadership moves on.

Meanwhile from Blackstar's side he feels awful and has no idea how to face Mistystar. She is the embodiment to all of his past mistakes, how he supported and participated in so much bloodshed. How does he still have the support and trust of Skyclan after coming quite literally face to face with everything he has done. The guilt is palpable. On top of ruining everything in the forest and being exiled he has brought his new clan, weakened by constant travel, into a possible war? How many more are going to be injured on his behalf. I could see him just giving up and saying he'll leave on the promise that his clan stays reunited with the others. Skyclan stand in support of Blackstar though, "We followed you here and if you go we will follow, we've managed without the clans before but we aren't going without our leader."

This whole AU for me is all about how Blackstar doesn't really ever achieve forgiveness in a neat bow in the eyes of the other clans but gets a different support network. Everyone should have a shot at redemption but it doesn't mean you should get forgiveness from the people you hurt. Or grovel for it, instead just moving on and being better.

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

i might lose everything if i lose the pain

part one of two

“Penelope Featherington is certainly not my soulmate.”

She remembers the words clear as day, even months later. She remembers the way he’d said it more, as if the mere idea was hilarious to him. He had just discovered that Marina had already met her soulmate and had hidden the fact in hopes that he would marry her anyway. Penelope had seen no other path than to expose her cousin’s lie as Lady Whistledown by naming her soulmate as the late George Crane. To lie about one’s soulmate was the utmost taboo and to the Bridgertons, who saw soulmates as sacred, it was an unthinkable betrayal. It had been quite the scandal and Colin was left heartbroken. 

Penelope had been on her way to visit Eloise when she overheard Colin and his brothers, the elder two teasing the younger to try and cheer him out of his depressed state. She hadn’t meant to listen in but when her name was mentioned she paused, only to regret her decision a moment later. She had always known that her dream of marrying Colin Bridgerton was simply that, nothing but fantasy, but to hear from his own mouth that he would never marry her was a blow that almost took her out completely. 

Now, almost two years after the overheard conversation, Penelope is well and truly quite probably over her feelings for Colin Bridgerton. At least, that’s what she had thought. 

When Penelope woke on her eighteenth birthday she instantly went to her mirror to examine her form in search of her soulmark. It wasn’t hard to find, located on her shoulder was a tiny yellow sun peeking out beneath the sleeve of her nightgown. It was no bigger than the tip of her pinky and she thought it cute against the paleness of her skin. It took only a few moments for her to fully comprehend what she was seeing. She had heard his mark described before, her closeness with his family allowing her access to such personal information, and had even seen it for herself once on an improper occasion involving a fall into the lake and a very transparent white shirt. 

She began to wipe furiously at her skin until it is rosy and raw, the sun standing out more as though a sunset over painted skies, praying that it was some sort of mistake, some error that could be rectified. No matter what she did the mark remained unchanged and accepted two things in that moment. One, she was Colin Bridgerton’s soulmate, and two, she was still deeply in love with him despite her best efforts. 

For, past the shame and embarrassment she had felt at seeing the twin mark, she was elated at the news. For so much of her life, she had dreamed of being Colin’s soulmate and now that dream had become a reality. A reality that felt like nothing more than a nightmare. 

Colin did not want her. She could picture the disappointment in his eyes when she told him, the downward slant of his mouth that held nothing but regret. He would marry her, soulmates being sacred to the Bridgertons after all, but he would never love her and would grow to resent her. That was not how soulmates worked in the fairytale stories of her youth, where you met the person you were fated for, who saw you and understood you and loved you for everything you are. Penelope knew better. She knew the secrets of the ton after all. 

She rings for her maid, a woman only a few years older than herself who has always been loyal to Penelope. Once she is dressed, she looks the young woman straight in the eyes and makes her swear that she saw nothing for there was nothing to see. 

“I swear, miss,” she replies with a small curtsey before leaving the room. 

Penelope takes another look in the mirror. They had chosen a dress with sleeves that capped lower than her usual frock and that hid her now most painful secret. She heads downstairs to break her fast. Neither her mother nor Prudence says anything to her outside a quiet good morning. She doubts that either of them will remember what the day is until someone points it out to them but that will not be her. 

The rest of her morning is spent reading in the drawing room and obsessively counting down the minutes until she is expected for tea at the Bridgerton’s house. Every year Violet Bridgerton takes pity on her daughter’s best friend and insists that she come round for tea on her birthday. It’s a tradition that Penelope waits all year for but today she dreads it. She leaves her house at half past noon and takes small steps across the square. She may as well be marching toward the guillotine. 

“Miss Featherington,” the Bridgerton’s butler greets her warmly. She tries to smile back, uses this as a first attempt at acting normal, but she feels she fails miserably when the older man looks at her with concern. He says nothing of course, simply leads her to the drawing room and announces her arrival. 

“Pen!” All eight present Bridgertons crowd her at once, speaking their greetings over top of each other until Lady Bridgerton calls for order. Eloise stays close, taking Penelope into her arms and wishing her a happy birthday. The boys each smile at her and offer their well wishes in turn, except for Colin who steps closer and smiles down at her like the sun itself. 

“Happy birthday, Pen.” His hand lifts and briefly touches her arm in a friendly gesture. His skin burns hers, the soulmark only a few inches away from his fingers branding deeper into her flesh. She cannot stop herself from staring at him intensely and his gaze never wavers until Francesca steps between them to give her own hug. 

‘Can I see your mark, Penelope?” Her head whips towards the voice. 

“Hyacinth!” Lady Bridgerton reprimands. “I told you, it is impolite to ask such a thing.” The older woman offers Penelope an apologetic smile. 

Before she can think of anything to say, Eloise tugs her over toward the mountain of sweets and tea tray set up in the middle of the room. There is even a plate of eclairs, her favorite. The room’s other occupants go back to whatever they were doing before the interruption of her arrival. Colin comes over to where they stand but as always seems more interested in the food than their conversation. 

“As you know,” Eloise starts in a hushed voice, “I believe the idea of soulmates to be antiquated and ridiculous, but I know how much you have always idealized the notion. So, how does it feel?” There is an eagerness to her question that contradicts her words. 

Time slows so much it might as well stop entirely. Penelope had spent the morning going over exactly what she would say if she were questioned, knowing that it was a likely chance between Hyacinth’s romantic curiosity and Eloise’s familiarity. She pauses now though, afraid of the consequences of her intended words. To lie about one’s soulmate was the utmost taboo and to the Bridgertons, who saw soulmates as sacred, it was an unthinkable betrayal. Could she really lie about this? Her being Lady Whistledown was a secret she kept for her own security and in a way, this would be as well. To protect herself from a broken heart. To protect Colin from a lifetime of misery. 

After all, what was more believable? That she, Penelope Featherington, was the soulmate of one of the most eligible gentlemen in London or that the ton’s least favored wallflower was born to live her life as a lonely old spinster? 

She opens her mouth and seals her fate with five words. “I don’t have a soulmate.”

[dazaleu]

so i dont have much to do on my days off so i decided to try and translate the runes that were in Tot Musica. i was at this for about 4 hours? lol.  but anyway. I know theres lyrics of the song that has the runes translated with their corresponding letter. for example:  ᚷ would be the letter G (Gifu),  ᚨ would be the letter A (Ansuz) and  ᚺ would be the letter H(Hagalaz); so the lyrics for the first set of runes in the song show like: ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᚲ ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛒᚱᚨᚲ gah zan tak, gah zan tat tat brak which is how its sung.. but each letter/rune is its own word like i had put in parenthesis above.  Gifu -> Gift Ansuz-> elder voice/voice of wisdom(something along these lines) Hagalaz -> hail.

the next section, the letter Z is Algiz -> protection, A is once again Ansuz (voice of elder), N is Nied, which coincidentally is “need”. so maybe a loose translation of that could be “were in danger and we dont know from what/need to be enlighted as to what.”   Tak- T is Tiwaz - victory/leadership. Ansuz again(voice), K is Kenaz (gradual learning/betterment) “show us the way so that we may learn” Tat- Tiwaz-Ansuz-Tiwaz. (victory, voice of wisdom, victory). “lead us so that we may go forth” Brak being the last word of the first line - B is Berkana (healing/relationships/family), R is Raido (ride/journey). Ansuz(voice), K is Kenaz(signifying steady betterment). ᛗᛁᛖ ᚾᛖᚷ ᛟᚾ ᚷᛁᛖᚲ ᚷᛁᛖ is your next line in the middle of the song. mie neg on giek giek M is Mannaz(essentially “mankind”. can also stand for groups/tribes/kinships.) I is Isa(ice. usually denotes that something is unchanging). E is Ehwaz(taking a journey within oneself. denotes changes within ones being. personal exchange) Neg- N is Nied(need), E- Ehwaz(personal exchange), G- Gifu(gift). maybe a gift is being exchanged for some form of personal growth) On -> O is Othala (legacy. often in the sense of ones rightful place in and because of ones lineage/heritage and the benefits/detriments thereof) N-Nied(need) Giek- Gifu(gift), Isa(ice), Ehwaz(personal exchange), Kenaz(torch) maybe this denotes knowledge/skill/grown gained, but that which is gained gradually overtime. ᚾᚨᚺ ᛈᚺᚨᛋ ᛏᛖᛉᛉᛖ ᛚᚨᚺ is the last bit of rune. nah phas tezze lah N-Nied(need), Ansuz(voice of wisdom), Hagalaz (hail) something that happens/bad or out your control. P- Perth(Chalice/womb.usually means mystery/magic), H-hagalaz(hail), Ansuz(voice of elder) Sigil- (sun. can mean anything from productive to overbearing heat that burns). “give us your mystic wisdom”? Tezze- T is Tiwaz(victory/purpose/sacrifice/fight), Ehwaz(personal exchange).  Ehwaz-algiZ-algiZ-Ehwaz. Algiz is almost exclusively the rune of protection and safety. The way that they put safety on the inside but surrounded it with personal exchange, and lead all with victory says maybe theyre prioritizing personal change and valuing their own safety/comfort. they want something forced upon them.  lah- L is Laguz(lake/water. also like Perth, it could mean magic. Perth would be greater magic, Laguz would be lesser) Algiz- rune of protection Hagalaz- hail maybe someone is opening themselves up or bearing their chest. maybe someone has more knowledge/experience than i do with Runes/Elder Futhark. i literally just spent hours in google/wiki breaking down the letters/words. i dont know if piecing them into their sentences would make sense pertaining to the song/movie since i havent seen it; but maybe someone else can figure it out and make it work.

[intcritus]

[ 08 ] the sun-dappled, grassy edge of a small lake. / @nvrcmplt

Inari peers over at her son who stands, rather impatiently, at the edge of the lake bordering the compound, his stance is rigid, foot tapping away. She refrains from rolling her eyes, especially when Taiga, her husband, is eyeing them both with a sigh. ❝ ━ Su-jin, must you remain so stubborn every time you have to talk with the elders ? It's bad enough you don't have a nice word to say to them. You know how they get. Why must you first borns give the clan so much trouble. ❞

Su-Jin shoots his mother a look, heavy brows pulling down as he scowls, the expression only breaking as his father ruffled his hair. ❝ ━ Madara-jiisan wouldn't have had to worry about the elders. Soon enough, I'll be blessed with a family of my own and this will continue to be your problem. Me and the elders don't align because their time has passed. I respect them enough to listen, but that's all. ❞ He fights back a grin at his father's heavy sigh, knowing that neither of them want to argue with his mom, but it has to be done sometimes. Both he and his mother are two immovable forces.

❝ ━ She only bought you out here to tell you that she continuously approves of your mate. ❞ Taiga ignores his wife's exasperated growl, sliding his arm around her and pulling her into his side. They both know that Václav loved their son, but more importantly, he knew their son down to the very heart of who he was, dramatic and fight-crazy as he was, and still loved him anyway. Both he and Inari had watched the two of them together, how headstrong the both of them were, but how they balanced each other other. Václav handled Su-Jin well, and the way they looked at one another was reminescent of mates who were inseperable and would no doubt destroy the world for one another. ❝ ━ You love him, don't you ? We never thought we'd see the day. ❞ Both parents watch the softening of Su-Jin's expression, the loosening of his posture as he smiled in a way they've only seen once or twice.

Su-Jin was well aware that his parents loved him, that they and his cousins gave him a hard time because he was the wildchild. But they were also aware that Václav was his entire world and he would cut them off for an entire wee if it meant they didn't respect his mate. ❝ ━ Okaasan, Otousan, I wouldn't have married him otherwise. Much like you two, I knew he was it for me the second I saw him. We might bicker from time to time, but you both know how much he means to me. I would give up everything for him. Much like Otousan was ready to give up everything for you. ❞ He grins, leaning against his father, a sigh escaping him. The shuffle of foosteps make all three Uchihas look over as Václav comes into view. Su-Jin's heartbeat stutters at the sight of him, knowing he'd purposefully made sound to alert them of his presence.

❝ ━ It's like we're not even here, Taiga. ❞

❝ ━ Can you blame him? That is his husband. ❞

Inari snorts, reaching out to snag her son, bringing him toward her so she can press a kiss to his forehead before she turns her charcoal gaze toward her son-in-law. Ambling over to him, she realizes they stand eye-to-eye, and though she could pull the intimidation act, she finds herself smiling gently. She's not that much of a hardass, only to unruly bunch that is her Clan. Bowing at the waist, she hums contemplatively, ❝ ━ Thank you for taking care of my son. I know it's hard leaving your den to come here, but please know it won't be as frequent with the colder season. But you're more than welcome to visit more frequently, we greatly enjoy your presence here. And as my son in law, welcome, again, to our family. ❞

A huff sounds, as Su-Jin slides an arm around his husband's waist, nuzzling into his jaw with a quiet purr. He and his mother give each other a hard time, but he appreciates her for this. ❝ ━ Let's go home. Having a thousand kid cousins wanting to run around and spar all day makes me tired. And I just wanna lay in your arms. ❞

[skunts-own-truth]

Third session of Runequest last night! The highly anticipated caravan journey to the Moon-Eater tribe’s new land-claim has begun, setting out from Jonstown with a large wagon train and a good herd of cattle. The region they are heading to is on the other side of the mountains from the Shaker Temple, near that big lake if you know your Dragon Pass cartography. The journey will take many weeks through the rain of Storm Season, and last session saw them spend exactly 3 days traveling through the hills of Sartar.

In those three days the party managed to gain some reputation by entertaining Prince Starbrow, before the Stormbull initiate in the party challenged her to a wrestling match while sky-clad. She accepted, amused by the Uroxi, and to everyone’s shock (including mine,) the damned mad man actually beat her! Though it was close, Prince Starbrow did break his arm, but he crushed her ribs in with some pretty fierce wrestling. Luckily, there were many healers on standby and both were right as rain pretty quickly after. They gained the respect of the Prince, and continued on a path of challenges and pride as our Orlanthi met his rival from the Moon-Eaters, his brother-in-law married to his sister who will not be going on the journey with the first wave of settlers. The rival told the Orlanthi to make it there in one piece, as to not upset his sister. Harsh words were exchanged, and a duel with blades was issued after honor was besmirched. The healers were still close at hand, so both rivals agreed this could get bloody… and it did. Both men lost arms, and dropped to near 1 HP, but by the luck of a very well rolled crit parry, the Orlanthi shattered his rival’s sword and cut into him, ending the duel. Their arms were picked up by the Stormbull guy, who taunted them both by nearly feeding the arms to his Great Troll friend, Hungry, who would have ate them happily.

Our Daka Fal initiate visited her master, and danced with him in the spirit world, taking advice from the man who has been guiding the spirits of the tribe for 40 years. Like the Orlanthi’s rival, he is staying back to lead the second wave of settlers after the party makes it there and ensures the land has no taint of Chaos, or some other unforeseen issue. Before she left, divined the weather and saw that it skewed favorable, and that gave the party heart as the Storm Season makes travel slow and difficult. They must make it to their new land by Sacred Time to enact the land ritual, so even the earth goddess acknowledges their place on her body.

They set out with their many cousins and fellow tribesmen, herding eating beasts along the way, and talking to the more influential members of the caravan as they walked on. Since they had befriended the trolls two sessions ago, they had planned on convincing the Moon-Eaters and the three clans that make up the very small tribe, to agree to accept the trolls as a fourth tribe. So far, they have convinced a farmer of the usefulness of the trolls, and convinced the local Redsmith to say nothing against the trolls until they cause some sort of damage. Everyone else is very much against it, or on the fence. They have a lot of work to do.

Some travel random encounters were rolled, these came from the Sartar Companion from Heroquest Glorantha, modified to fit Runequest and spiced with some extra flavor to make them more mine. Three were rolled, and all three were handled pretty darn well; Newtlings flagged the party down, wanting information and lunars, so they sold the party a few days worth of fish rations the little lizard people had caught. Dealings with this elder race went well, and the party told them where they would be settling. The Newtlings, happy to be treated as people and not with the threat of their tails being eaten, agreed to visit the Moon-Eaters once their settlement is made. The next event was something I put in, but was still very worried about. A dream dragon, a powerful dream dragon, swooped overhead of the caravan startling the herds of beasts. The Uroxi insulted the creature, trying to draw the ancient thing’s attention. It worked, and the dragon swooped after him. It landed over him, insulted, it asked if he knew who the dream dragon was. The dragon, a beast of infamy in the region, could not believe the Uroxi didn’t know it. So, it swatted the Stormbull initiate away, sending him flying while our Daka Fal initiate and Orlanthi began to try and talk the creature down. Casting Glamour and gaining an exceedingly high charisma, the Daka Fal initiate calmed the dragon with words of praise and reverence, to which the dragon offered them a deal: sacrifice power and meat to the dragon, and it would leave the caravan unmolested. The party agreed, giving the dragon a crystal matrix with a good number of POW charges, and a few cattle. It took off with its prizes, and left them alone. The Uroxi came to right after it left, which was good because he would have put his foot in his mouth and probably damned the whole tribe.

The last encounter was started but not completed, with a man and his young demi-god daughter asking the Moon-Eater tribe’s aid with dealing with a river spirit that wishes to destroy the young woman for the crime of her existence. The very last thing we did in the session was agree to help the girl, and the three party members set off to go track this river spirit down and tell it off.

Pretty great session, if you ask me.