#you put his BROTHER on a chopping block that man is COMING

[thychesters]

the world government & marines: after that incident at sabaody we might be free of monkey d. luffy for a while

luffy: [the sound of flip flops intensifies]

[catierambles]

@brattymum96 , @ouroboros113 , @peaches1958 , @summersong69 , @eldarwen333 , @omgkatinka

The axe hit the block of wood solidly, splitting it in two, the pieces falling to the side and Sy reached down, grabbing another and setting it on the stump. The early morning air was cool against his skin that had become heated as he chopped wood, his shirt having been discarded some time ago. Swinging the axe down, it split the block and he grabbed another, setting it up like the last. His breath came in dragon puffs of steam and he looked around the trees surrounding the cabin, mist and fog that would vanish with the rising sun giving them almost a fairy tale quality.

The silence was broken as someone crashed through the underbrush and his head whipped to the side as they came running out of the treeline. It was a woman, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, one of her arms covered in blood in a grisly sleeve. He set the axe aside when she saw him, running over to him.

"Please, I--" She gasped for air, her skin flush.

"Easy, darlin. Catch your breath." Sy said, holding her uninjured arm. "What happened?"

"My boyfriend he--he attacked me and I--"

"Say no more, sweetheart, let's get you out of the open and get that arm looked at." He said and she nodded, "And don't worry, you're safe with me."

"Th-thank you." She said and he grabbed his shirt from where he had thrown it, putting it back on again before leading her into the cabin. Mike jumped up from the couch as they came in, looking at their new guest in question.

"Can we have your name?" Sy asked.

"Stephanie." She said and he nodded.

"Stephanie, I'm Sy and this is my brother Mike, he's going to take a look at your arm, okay?" Sy said and she nodded, "Mike, wake the others. Tell'em we got a situation."

"Yeah." Mike said with a nod, "Come on, Steph. Can I call you Steph?"

"Sure." She said, her voice small and he gave her a small smile to put her at ease.

"First aid kit is in the bathroom, this way." He said and Sy nodded as she looked at him, touching her back gently. A crawling feeling made his shoulders twitch and he watched them vanish up the stairs before he headed out of the cabin, seeing the stranger standing there. He was tall, thin, with sandy hair, dressed in loose clothing but Sy could smell blood on him.

"Help you?" Sy asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Where is she?"

"Where is who?"

"Don't bullshit me, I tracked her here. Where is she? Give her to me." Sy just shook his head.

"Not gonna happen." He said and the man pulled a smile that was mostly teeth, his canines sharp and Sy stretched his neck, letting the Other push forward just a little. "Ya wanna try me, son?"

"Just give her to me and I'll be out of your territory."

"You attack a girl in my territory who then finds me and asks for help." Sy said, "You think I'm giving her to you? You're delusional."

"It doesn't matter, I infected her."

"Saw that." Sy said, his jaw clenching. "But if you think I'm going to hand her over to a damn feral, you're crazier than I thought."

"Give her to me now." He snarled, the Other filling his eyes and making them almost glow and Sy let his push forward just a little more, rolling his shoulders. The feral growled at the energy he was letting off, an unnatural sound, and Sy leveled a challenging look at him.

"Give me a reason." He said, "And I'll skin you and hang your pelt on my wall."

"She's mine."

"Not anymore." The words came without a thought and he couldn't take them back. "Now get the fuck out of my territory before I rip your damn head off." The feral just snarled again, looking like he was going to lunge at him, but he eventually backed down at the look in Sy's eyes, turning and stomping away back into the trees. With a sigh, he headed back inside and found her sitting on the couch with Mike, her arm wrapped in gauze. The others were up, August and Geralt standing with their arms crossed over their chests as Walter sat with the other two on the couch.

"Feral?" Geralt asked and Sy nodded.

"He going to be a problem?" August asked.

"Not unless he wants his limbs ripped off." Sy said and Stephanie looked back and forth between them, the question writ plain on her face.

"I should--thank you for helping me, but I should probably go." She said and stood, Mike and Walter standing with her.

"Doll, we ain't gonna stop you." Sy said, "But that arm of yours is going to get worse before it gets better."

"He infect her?" Geralt asked and Sy nodded. "She can't leave."

"What?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly and the smell of her fear starting leaking into the air.

"Stephanie," Sy said, "Like I said, we ain't gonna stop you, you're not a prisoner or a hostage, but you should probably stay. Your boyfriend, he...he's a feral wolf."

"I've heard of those." She said, "But aren't they like...crazy?"

"I guess he could hide it better than others. He infected you, doll." Sy said, "Your arm will start to hurt more than it already does, and you'll run one hell of a fever. It's going to hurt, but we'll get you through it the best we can."

"H-how?" She asked.

"We're wolves, ourselves." Walter said, gently, "This is our territory which makes you our responsibility."

"We can't be adopting strays." August said and Sy shot him a look. "She can stay until it runs it's course, but then she's gone."

"Walker, you got a bad habit of thinking you can tell us what to do." Sy said and August scowled at him. "Stephanie, you can leave if you want, but you should stay." She rubbed the gauze on her arm slightly, her hand clenching and unclenching. "It's startin' to ache?" She nodded.

"A deep ache."

"That didn't take long." Geralt said. "You're staying."

"O-okay." Stephanie said and Sy went to her, reaching up and holding her face gently, looking into her eyes.

"You're safe here, doll, I promise you." He could already see her Other starting to form behind her eyes and it pulled at his.

[soralinklokidottirofmirkwood]

Quick errand: Big brother Alhaitham x astrologist little sister reader x Kaveh.

Age: 14/15 Reader Chan is Alhaitham’s little sister, she has a cryo vision, is a catalyst user and is studying astrology. Kaveh sends her to the tavern for spice but on the way home she runs into trouble luckily big brother Al got out of work on time.

You are sitting in a tree not too far from Sumeru city Sketching out a Star map that your teacher assigned to you.

(Ignore the broom, the book is your catalyst, you have on black nail polish and your wearing a cloak like Venti but in the same color scheme as the outfit.)

As you finished sketching a drop of water hit your paper.

Looking up you saw dark clouds cover the stars and moon as rain went down “I gotta get home anyways Al and Kaveh are probably wondering where I am.” You said quickly putting your sketch book, Star map and pencil case in your bag and then pulling the hood of your cloak up and running towards the city waving at your neighbors and friends “Goodnight Nilou and Layla.” You said running passed the performer and your upperclass woman who waved at you “See you in class Y/N.” Layla said yawning “Hope to see you in the festival Y/N.” Nilou said waving back as you made your way carefully through the now wet streets of Sumeru city with the lamp posts being your only source of light.

You finally made it to your brothers house that you both shared with his roommate.

When you got in the house you’re surprised to not hear Alhaitham and Kaveh arguing.

You hang your cloak on the rack near the door then called out for your older brother and his roommate “Al! kav! I’m home.” You said walking to put your bag in your room “I’m in the kitchen Y/N but Alhaitham won’t be home in an hour.” Kaveh said walking out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon in his hand wearing his weasel house slippers and a matching apron “Do you mind going to the market Y/N? We’re almost out of spice.” He said giving you some Mora and going back into the kitchen “Sure Kav.” You said walking back towards the door to put your cloak on and heading to the market place “If you see your brother tell him I’m cooking.” He said mixing up chopped vegetables.

You walked into Lambad’s tavern and went up to Lambad at the counter “Ahh welcome Y/N what can I do for you?” He asked “hello Lambad. I’m just getting spice.” You said handing him the Mora “Spice coming up.” He said heading to the back.

As you’re waiting you saw a drunk man slowly walking towards the counter while Swaying and leaving a tip “Better be carful on the way home kid! The Fatui has been active in the city.” He said walking out of the tavern holding his head in his palm “I will thank you.” You said thanking the man as Lambad came out of the back with the spice “Here you are Y/N. The spice.” He said giving you a bag filled with the spice “You know while I’m here I’ll take three rose custards.” You said pointing to the display of freshly made rose custards “certainly.” He said as you gave him the Mora “Here you go.” He said giving you another bag “Thank you Lambad.” You said happily walking out of the tavern with the bags.

When you got out of the tavern you saw that it stopped raining but the streets were still wet, You walked down the streets again for the third time that night determined to get home and hopefully not run into any Fatui but sadly luck wasn’t on your side tonight when you saw four Fatui agents stand in front of you “Hey kid? come join the Fatui! Some one with your skill would make a great addition.” The masked stranger said “Sorry I’m not interested.” You said trying to walk around them but they blocked your way “Hey! You’re the acting grand sages kid sister.” One of the agents said taking out his weapon while you summoned your catalyst ‘Great leaser Lord Kusanali help me.’ You think to yourself preparing to fight “If you want to leave in one piece I suggest you leave my sister alone.” Said a deep and familiar voice making you turn around to see your older brother with his sword out “Crud, let’s go boys.” The leader of the group said running with his goons “Let’s go sis.” Alhaitham said grabbing a bag from you and then your hand.

When you got home Kaveh was seasoning meat “oh good you’re both home.” He said walking over as you held out the bag of spice towards him “Next time check to make sure we have enough spice. There has been Fatui active in the city, Y/N almost got in a fight with some agents tonight.” Alhaitham said when Kaveh shrieked “WHAT!?” And began checking you “Kaveh I’m fine I had my catalyst at the ready incase things went ugly. Oh I brought rose custard for dessert.” You said taking the treat to the kitchen to put in the ice box.

Once dinner was ready you, Your brother and roommate sat and ate “So Y/N how’s your star mapping homework going?” Your brother asked taking a sip of dandelion wine imported from Mondstadt “It’s going well but it started raining when I had finished.” You said “I heard That Layla did hers while sleeping.” Kaveh said “The rumor is true, but our teacher will give us another load.” You said biting on the steak then taking a sip of your Wolfhook juice “She’s one of the most devoted teachers in the academia.” Alhaitham said as you all continue to eat your dinner “And next time Kaveh wait for me to get home before sending Y/N.” Your brother said getting up to wash his plate “I didn’t know the Fatui were in the city and Y/N is old enough to take care of herself she’s had her vision since she was 7.” The ash blond man said as you two took your dishes to wash while you shook your heads from your brother’s and roommates bickering.

After dinner you bathed and changed into your pajamas and then you checked your homework to see that it wasn’t wet and was protected by the books you sandwiched it in between.

Smiling you but the map back in your bag and went straight to sleep hoping that Layla gets a goodnights rest “That girl deserves a vacation away from school work.” You said to yourself falling into a goodnights rest.

[dangermousie]

Objectively it's wrong that SR sneaks out to meet SY one last time after she finds out that their betrothal is not to happen and that he is to marry Crown Princess, who he thinks she is. Not only is it against societal rules (and how badly it is viewed and can be punished we can see shortly, in ep 4, when SY almost loses his head) and against the promise she gave the Crown Princess, it is unkind to SY - it was one thing to pretend to be the Princess when she thought she was checking out her future spouse and the most that would come out of it is they would meet at the betrothal or wedding and she'd go "pleasant surprise to yooooou!" But she knows now he's engaged to someone else, someone else she's impersonating, so it's going to be horrible for him. But I still don't blame her at all - she's young and confined and in love and just wants to be happy one last time. And honestly, that one mundane sunlit little date is going to help them hold on through some unimaginable horrors later so...

I love this scene of them hiding from someone tracking them just because it's gorgeous and also beause you see SR experience a frisson of sexual awareness. If you think about it, given the rigid confines of societal rules, this is probably the first time she's even been this close with a man who is not her relative, a man whose fingers are touching her mouth, even if it's to hush her.

I couldn't hate the Crown Princess even after she did something indubitably cruel - instead of letting SR apologize to SY for deception, she made her hide in the room, called SY and revealed she's the Crown Princess and his future wife and that girl he's been meeting is a lady-in-waiting she made to dress as her and to never seek her out. The joy on SY's face slowly changing to shock and despair as he sees the Crown Princess kills me and yet I can't hate the Princess - she's fighting for her family's survival. She doesn't want to marry SY, she doesn't fancy him - in fact before it was explained to her she and her brother needed the Kims to survive, she went to beg her father to cancel the marriage precisely because her cousin fancied him and because she knew no happiness for her could be found in a marriage started under these circumstances.

He storms off and we get the confrontation between the cousins, and I just love this shot so much.

You know what struck me during this exchange? It is yet another way sheltering young women is hobbling them and controlling them. EVERYONE knows Sejo is eyeing the throne and will take it once his weak brother dies. But the daughters of the King and Sejo did not. Because they are to be sheltered and protected like hot house flowers but ignorance is not bliss - in that society, it is dangerous and life threatening not to know these things. But a woman who lacks knowledge is easier to control and mold.

A lot of the narrative for Se Ryung is about her losing her faith in her father, her rose colored glasses. The man will make a great king, and he's not even a horrific monster by the standards of the time (yes, he wants to rule but as is made clear, it is also self-preservation. If he didn't go after his nephew, his nephew would go after him and it would be his family on the chopping block) but SR's vision of him as righteous is utterly wrong. The problem that happens is that they taught SR to be virtuous and to have honor and to obey the king and blah blah blah and then her father went "psych! only when it doesn't contradict what I want" and her morality can't take it (in a lot of ways, she is like a female Rin from The King Loves - where the character is full of honor they'd been taught and then finds out the family only means "well, it's all a sham until we can get power" and it puts them on a collision course.)

Oh, and one last comment about Sejo. For all his talk about how SR is the apple of his eye and his genuine fondness for her, ultimately she's a pawn for power the way anyone is. He tells her it's OK the marriage to Seung Yoo fell through, he will get her someone better. But the person he betrothes her to, our loathsome SML - Sejo knows nothing about him as a person; his one "great husband" quality is he comes from a family Sejo wants to ally with.

[twothpaste]

deliriously surreal little 1k fic snippet under the cut. three psychics try to tame the rampaging natural killer cyborg with some gentle telepathic persuasion. but it turns out the creature's mind palace is a very strange place...

(cw: blood, body horror, animal death, general visceral unpleasantness)

Leder's got a library copy of the Inferno. A scrappy, shitty, well-loved old paperback, with dog-ears on half its pages. Kumatora ate it up, during her punkass Satanic phase around age nineteen. Even got a Cerberus tattooed on her back. It ain't any snappin' teeth or serpentine horrors, though, that stuck with her most dearly. Not even the torturous plights of all them sinful human souls. Nah. What's haunted n' captivated her ever since, is the fate of the underworld's overlord. The great reveal, that even Lucifer himself was utterly damned to his Ninth Circle. If y'ain't read it, she'll tell ya: it goes like this. Dante n' Virgil find him down there, at Hell's deepest depths, imprisoned in a lake of solid ice. Frozen just as miserably solid as the wretchedest traitors he held prisoner. Cryin' frosted tears from his three hangin' heads. "Y'can't help but feel sorry for the guy," she'd told Ash. N' Lucas. N' just about everybody else. "He ain't some kinda evil king. Ain't even callin' the shots, really. All he did was stick it to the man - shit, I wouldda, too! N' then he's stuck with the rest of 'em. Freezin' his nuts off, 'til the end o' time…"

… Anyways.

She thinks of that. While she lets loose PK Freeze Ω from her stalwart palms.

An icy barricade seals pig to pit. Clings upon its walls of flesh, like binding chains. Holds it, softly, forcefully, in place. Maybe the cold-numb'll coax it to settle down, wishful thinking suggests. Maybe it'll ease its agony. If just for a short while. Steam billows where ice meets pink-red skin. A hot-blooded protest. Its bellows would put Cerberus to shame. Wet brain meat writhes, sickly swollen, against a half-shattered glass dome.

Claus joins his brother, at the labyrinth's gate.

("He's from a dream I had, you know," Master Porky said. With deathly shrieks still ringing in his nightmare ears.)

(The Capsule keeps screaming.)

(Lucas grips Claus' wrist, as they tread forward. Sticky sap tugs at their boots. Crunching tiny exoskeletons, and brittle wings. He wonders - and therefore, they both wonder - whether fruit flies and mosquitos screech as they suffocate, too. How many death throes we can't even hear. Or if, through some dark, impossible miracle, they're still alive. Schrodinger's smother. Amber crystalizes, turning your whole world gold in retrospect. You can't budge. Can't even breathe. But your mind thrashes evermore against its binds.)

("There's a way out," Claus insists. Shakin' their head. "I know the way. We do. We can show ya.")

("Shhh…" comes Lucas' soft spring breeze. It brushes over both chimeras.)

(The screams grow louder.)

(The heart-splitting sound of a child's untimely demise. Ribs shattered on solid stone. Some could mistake a pig's distraughtest wails for a human's, given the right-wrong acoustics. A tweenaged Butch'd said ol' Gertrude was due for slaughter in a couple weeks. And cracked a joke about makin' bacon. Biff elbowed him real hard. N' said he ain't s'posed to say crap like that in front'a the rugrats. Kid Claus chased a piglet about. Jested that it'd make a fine Christmas ham, someday. Little Lucas scooped the thing up, in the grass-stained arms of his sweater. Covered its floppy ears. N' sobbed himself halfway to hysterics. Claus was laughin' so hard, he could barely wheeze out an apology. He'd be screamin' like hell when it came for him, though. Crucified on the chopping block. Teething his goddamn limbs off. While a ten-year-old Lucas sulked past the old slaughter shed. Exhaled a silent, wintry cloud. And pulled his scarf over his chilled-pink ears.)

("These… These aren't your memories.")

(The Commander had stared into the Natural Killer Cyborg's vessel. Only to find its own reflection, cast back on the glass.)

(The boy named Lucas had tried to quell it. Ended up with his hands at his own throat. Gaspin' the same strangled breaths as every other chimera he'd ever bashed into submission.)

("It ain't like that. I swear, we don't wanna hurtcha. Y'can let us in.")

(They're up to their knees, now. At the Capsule wall, where ice stings flesh. It's searing hot to the touch. As if all the red and guts smeared to its surface are still broiling, and seething, with live mammalian body temperature - and a rage that spans far beyond. Lucas tends the fresh burns on his brother's hand, when they wipe it clean. Claus does the same for him.)

("M'sorry. M'so, so sorry. Y'didn't deserve any of this.")

("We're gonna make it up to ya. We promise.")

(Their pity earns them boils, and lesions. Skin charred black, like an overcooked waste of meat. A persistence that speaks volumes of burned pages. The two of them find the window, prying with peeling fingers. Wipe away the human carnage that sullies its pane.)

(They show it the Sanctuary. Straight from their minds' eyes. A sleepy sunset, over the palms and coral trees. It's mellow-warm. Summertime's brink. When they last left, the Hippo Launchers'd already taken to the tides and puddles. N' the Rhinocerocket herds were nappin' peacefully in the shade. Where all creatures've got a right to life - just as they always have - and all 'cause they've made it so. The real world's a beautiful place, they tell it. It's out there. Waiting for you.)

(A porcine nose twitches between the crimson smears. Between vicious screams. Close breath fogs up the pane. Somewhere, on the very fringe of consciousness, Kumatora's valiant struggle seems fainter than before.)

("Easy, now…")

("That's it…")

(A set of tusks glints perfect white.)

(The beast bashes its full weight against the Capsule's interior.)

(It rolls forward. And crushes them both.)

The Natural Killer Cyborg activates a PSI Counter Device.

They snap back sputtering. The older twin reaches, outta sheer muscle memory, for his cane. The younger lifts an arm, to summon a Shield. Tries to, rather. It's with shivering shock that they realize they've been sealed stiff - in a gnarling ridge of PK Freeze spires.

"Agh! God, damn it!" Kumatora yowls. Clamped up right beside 'em.

Ninth Circle indeed.

[milksluice]

This was done for the 30 Days of Doing Shipping Wrong meme: "They are the worst possible thing to happen to each other" ship.

Above is their meetcute. I'm not even going to cheapen this post by pointing out that the second image down on the right is how Peter looks when he's saying to Tom, "I heard you were desperate to come." And the third image down, on the left, is how he looks when he's saying, "I was rather looking forward to rowing you around."

It's always good to remember this: Peter stands in the light. While Tom stands in the dark.

But here's Peter, welcoming Tom into his world. And Tom, being immensely good at reading the cards in other people's hands, knows that if he acts like the little bird with the broken wing, that Peter will be absolutely helpless to come to his rescue. That he'll keep the bird within the palms of his hands, and guard it well.

See, pretending to be weak, around someone who can become quite protective, means wielding a power over that person far greater than if one were to approach someone such as Peter, as a man of power. Luckily for Tom, he's exactly the type of person that people don't mind being over-powered by (knowingly or not). At least for people such as Peter, Meredith, and myself.

Peter, unfortunately, places himself on the chopping block when he brings up the rumor that Tom may have been killed. I think that Tom is even a little offended that after he put so much work into Dickie's letter to Tom, and that in general, anyone could believe that Dickie could possibly kill him. Him, whom Dickie loves. Like a 'brother'. And for a moment, Tom seems like he might lose his cool, but then he smiles, nervously, and Peter restores their balance by saying the idea of it is absolutely ridiculous.

More insight on the light vs. dark issue in costuming, as well as more insight into what goes into Tom portraying himself as vulnerable.

And though Peter welcomed Tom into his light-bound, open arms, Tom has immediately pulled Peter into the dark underbelly, where he now lives.

Here's the thing. Tom is just a person. He may be... more or less evil, but he is just a person. However, his life depends on whether or not he can fool everyone into believing that he's done nothing wrong. So when he cracks in front of Peter - when he shows that fear cropping up because they've sent for someone from Rome (someone who might know him as Dickie) - I'd like to think it's because there's this part of Tom that just feels so comfortable with Peter. Now, who wouldn't? Peter is nurturing and caring, and genuinely kind. But for Tom to break in front of Peter for even a moment, without the threat of killing Peter after. I think it's somewhat special. He's showing his fear in a normal human capacity, which begs for comfort. Comfort from Peter.

Here, you see that Tom is actually quite good at understanding Italian. That he answered is a slip, a mistake because he's nervous. It reaffirms that the language barrier was a part of feigning his broken wing.

From here, Peter takes Tom's charming smile, and then translates throughout the rest of the conversation.

I'm afraid I must admit. There is one part of Tom I still haven't quite figured out after all these years. I suppose Tom thought it would make him look more guilty to admit that he has homosexual desires. And you see his denial throughout practically the entire movie - I guess because some people just aren't ready to admit who they are. Tom, especially. But it always seemed like the least of his problems... In any case, he says no. In front of Peter no less, who seems to take the answer to be one striving for privacy, rather than truth. Because he is not pleased with the question, himself. In fact, he makes a quip to lighten the mood, and put Tom at ease. It never even comes up later, which I think is especially sweet of Peter. He just takes Tom's wishes in stride.

But let me not wax on about how adorable Peter is with Tom. Because this is supposed to be why this ship is all wrong. And god is it wrong.

Then Tom ignores the way Peter tries to swaddle him, and tells Peter a lie - to lie for him, and say that he has a fiance. Which, I think, Peter is surprised to hear, and perhaps a little hurt, though he continually goes with the flow of things. But yet again, he never forces the subject later on. He respects Tom too much to do so. Or perhaps considers Tom too fragile. Either way, it is for Tom's sake.

I'd like to say that I find it interesting that, here, Tom chooses not to lie. No. He did not kill Freddie and then Dickie.

By asking Peter, frantically, to ask if the Inspector is accusing him, he is begging Peter to place himself in front of Tom, to protect him again. The very reason he brought Peter with him. He's merely putting on a show.

That's when the Inspector pulls out the letter Tom wrote in Dickie's name.

Here, I couldn't say for sure. I feel that Peter's expression, upon finding out it's a 'suicide note' is one of anger, and of disbelief. Anger, perhaps for Tom, for the same reasons Tom expresses as he shouts afterward. And disbelief because all the time he's known Dickie... he'd never kill himself. Or that's what he thought, anyway. I think it's probably a little of both. Which can be confusing, contradicting, and cloud the mind a little.

Now, this scene is arguably everyone's favorite.

I think I'll mainly let it speak for itself. It starts with the fact that Peter shows what is, conceivably, sympathy for someone who may have killed. A situation which Tom, himself, is in, and perhaps expects not to be sympathized with at all. And Tom, despite everything, feels like he can divulge certain pieces of truth to Peter, that to anyone else, he would hide.

He makes him feel human. Not like a demon.

But of course... If Peter needs a whole building to hide his sins, then how big of a space must Tom's take up? So Tom has to fish for some more reassurance. And it may seems as if Tom is just playing, acting, again, but there's a buried, harsh, and painful truth beneath the words he says.

The sadness, the longing in Tom's eyes - was never a lie.

It honestly disturbs Tom, I think, that Peter allows Tom to feel... loved, and genuinely accepted. Not 'allows him', actually, but forces the love upon him. Something Tom has denied himself, possibly forever, and which will cause the greatest feeling of loss and utter self-hatred that Tom will ever feel. Meanwhile, he nearly convinces Peter that Peter is his One, which lulls Peter into a sense of false hope. A sense of trusting, and the future of being together, close and loved.

May I reiterate? Peter is the light.

But if Peter is the light, and Tom is the dark - and if Tom lets the light in, to conquer the dark...

This is mostly just because I'm in love with the song here. Here is a version done by a Slovak philharmonic orchestra and choir, with a translation of the gorgeous lyrics.

There is one lyric of the song which says: Lord, have mercy on him [the guilty man to be judged]. Not only is Peter in the 'choir' asking for this; he is at the center of it. Looking down at Tom. The song then goes on to say: Grant them [presumably those whom the guilty man caused harm] eternal rest. Stating that they would only have rest, not if the guilty man were judged, but if he were judged mercifully.

At this unspecified moment in time, Peter has already fallen completely for Tom. And perhaps Tom, Peter.

I'd like to think this is a full representation of them in the after life. Tom comes in, below Peter leading a choir of angels, pleading with the Lord to grant Tom mercy. And Peter looks down, and sees him, and Tom smiles, and waves, and Peter smiles, and then turns back to the Lord while Tom watches in utter awe at the fact that someone is rooting for him. For him.

Excuse me while I cry over both of their smiles as Peter says he and Tom found each other.

I feel quite bad for Marge. It's a bit like throwing her into the lion's den. But Peter is stupidly proud of Tom so... He doesn't even realize what he's doing. I mean... Seriously, do you see how much Peter's cheeks are bulging from his smile after Tom says Peter found the place for him? Just... I think from this point on I'm going to disintegrate into unintelligible sounds.

"It's better than trying to squeeze into my room." Somehow I doubt Tom would agree, if it were him.

Of course, Marge goes on to be a startling reminder of who Tom really is.

The funny thing is (it's not funny) that Tom will act weak in front of Peter in order to gain his protection, but when he could truly use some protection and comfort, he becomes shy about it, and refuses Peter's warmth. Much to Peter's disappointment. And Tom's, I guarantee you. Okay, so he refuses to a point. And then they make bedroom eyes at each other and I want to kill myself.

It's Marge who's shaking and crying in his arms, but Peter wants to know if Tom is okay.

My insufficient theory on why it was Peter who Tom was thinking about when he was in the bath. Worrying about, even. Wanting. Romantically. Sort of. Maybe.

This scene would have been much better if Peter had kissed Tom's forehead at the end. Still, it's sweet how he gently rubs the bandage on.

NOPE. I may actually vomit in a moment.

This is the end. As soon as it sinks in that someone is calling Dickie's name; the end is coming.

"Are you alone?" he asks, with dim hope, and his heart in his throat.

And that's when he knows. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. His world is crashing down...

I actually hate everything. Fucking shit, I did not want to cry while doing this... But I'm here to do a job - oh look, Tom's mouth is fucking turned down I wonder the fuck why.

The way his voice wavers over 'good'.

I can't breathe. Which is fitting.

The destruction, the panic I feel from seeing one strip of cloth. I fucking...

He is, in fact, so panicked himself, that he slips up again, calling himself Dickie. He becomes dissociative. If he's Dickie, he's not in love with Peter, and this won't hurt, what he's about to do. But Peter corrects him, and there's nothing left to do. But the thing is... Tom no longer exists. At least, in a few minutes, he won't.

At least this ends with my favorite line.

I might definitely vomit.

More impressions on the - situation.

And here is another, prettier picspam.

[swagatron9]

Vivianna

Pairings: Jedidiah Sawyer x OC

WARNING: THROUGHOUT THIS BOOK, THERE WILL BE MENTIONS OF MURDER, DEATH, SUICIDE AND QUITE BRUTAL SCENES. THERE WILL ALSO BE IMPLICATIONS OF SEXUAL, PHYSICAL AND MENTAL ASSAULT. TAKE THIS AS YOUR WARNING THAT THERE WILL BE QUITE TRIGGERING AND MATURE SCENES.

Lizzy untied the rope from herself before crawling over to Vivianna and releasing her. Although she was terrified of the girl and what she was capable of, she couldn't help the part of her that believed that potentially Vivianna was innocent. "Follow me," Lizzy whispered to Vivianna. 

Vivianna couldn't find the energy to move, though; she was depressed, sad that she witnessed the death of three of her friends so suddenly, but most of all she witnessed the death of her very first boyfriend, whom she'd only been with for a day. Vivianna thought that maybe it was her, she was bad luck, or maybe people actually didn't want to be around her. 

"Vivianna, I'm sorry." Vivianna turned her head to see Hartman looking up at her. "I truly am." He apologised, but Vivianna didn't believe him. Instead, she ignored as Lizzy untied the corrupt cop that was responsible for so many deaths already. 

The trio pushed through the doors where they were being kept to reveal a room decorated with blood and hanging bones, the darkness of the room added to the situation as they continued walking through. They hid in an area where pig corpses were hanging up when they heard people coming. "Make your brother something to eat." Vivianna heard. She peered through the window to see a man chopping up meat as he began preparing a meal. "They're gone. They're gone!' Vivianna jumped at the abrupt yells.

When the room was empty, they made their way out and down a hall where what they believed the front door was located. Right as Vivianna was about to reach for the handle, she felt a pair of arms yank her back. She heard Lizzy's scream coming from behind her as they were all pulled into a room. "You messed with the wrong family," Verna said to the group of three. 

Hartman was thrown onto the couch and was surrounded by everyone else. "Yeah, you're proud of this goddamn family, huh?" He asked snarkily at the woman.

"Jed!" Verna called out. 

Vivianna waited with hope in her eyes to see her boyfriend, who she now knew as Jedidiah. "Ah, fuck." Hartman cussed as he watched Jed walk in with his infamous chainsaw. "What you gonna do? Huh?" 

Jed walked into Vivianna's line of sight, causing her to stop struggling against the man holding her. She watched as Jed aimed his chainsaw at Hartman, she couldn't lie and say she wasn't in the least bit afraid of what Jed was capable of, and Verna's following words only added fuel. "Jed, what did I tell you about outsiders? They fill your ears with lies. You show 'em who you are, Jed." Verna commanded Jed. "Look what that man did to your face." She egged on.

Jed started up the chainsaw, and the loud roars of it coming to life filled the room. He swung the saw down at Hartman, who tried to block it with his hand, costing him to lose a limb.

Lizzy's screams blended in with Jed's as he sawed through the middle of Hartman's body, bloody sprayed everywhere, even landing on Vivianna, who stood motionless. She stared at the man who stood over Hartman; while she knew this was nothing more than pure evil, she didn't feel in the least bit sad for Hartman. After all the pain he put her and many others through, this was something he deserved. 

The chainsaw quietened down as Jed lifted it back up, blood leaking from the blade of it. "Jed," Vivianna spoke up. Like something horrible had been said, Jed stood still as he heard her voice. When he saw her unconscious on the floor, he had assumed that Hartman had killed her already due to the haziness he felt from the fall. Jed's eyes softened as his eyes met her own, and he lowered the chainsaw down. He spewed out jibberish as he attempted to talk but couldn't produce any words from the mask and the stitches.

Jed's attention was redirected as Lizzy broke free from the man's grasp and took out in the direction of the front door. The man that was holding Vivianna released her from his grip and followed everyone else as they chased after Lizzy. Vivianna and Jed were left behind as they continued staring at each other. "Jed," Vivianna said once more. Jed couldn't deny that hearing his name sounded like music as it came out of Vivianna's mouth. Although he was still getting used to being called Jedidiah, he couldn't help but feel special as she used his name for the first time. 

He held his hand out to Vivianna, causing her to smile faintly as she grabbed hold of it. Jed pulled Vivianna behind him as they followed where everyone else ran to. "Jed, remember what I told you? Go, go get her." Verna demanded Jed. As Vivianna came into Verna's view, Verna frowned at her until she realised what had happened; this would be something Verna had to deal with later. "Nobody messed with our family," Verna said as she made direct eye contact with Vivianna.

Jed and Vivianna raced through the trees as they searched for any signs of Lizzy. 

Vivianna pulled Jed to a stop causing him to look over at her in curiosity. Vivianna needed some time to look at the damage done to her partner's face was currently being held together by a brace. She felt terrible for Jed as she imagined the pain he would have to go through. Slowly she reached her hand up and lightly traced her finger over the line of stitches; Jed looked away shamefully. "Handsome," Vivianna mumbled as she left a ghost of a kiss where the bullet wound was. Jed flushed red at her words, and he felt his lips tug into a smile, only to wince as he felt the pain in his cheek. 

Jed and Vivianna turned around as they heard a branch snap from amongst the bushes. Lizzy shot out and started running away from the two. Jed limped up ahead of Vivianna as he chased after the nurse, the revving of the chainsaw echoing through the eery woods. 

As Vivianna approached Jed, she could hear Lizzy trying to manipulate him. "I tried to help you, same with Vivianna. That's all I ever tried to do. You know that, right? Listen to me; it's not too late. We call all get out of here together." Lizzy attempted to convince Jed.

Verna approached the trio as she heard what was being said. "That bitch is a liar, Jed. She doesn't care about you. Kill her, kill her now!"

"Please don't listen to her," Lizzy begged. "I know there's good in you. I've seen it. Please listen to me. This isn't you, Jackson. This isn't you. It's your crazy mother-"

"Bud," Vivianna whispered loud enough for Jed to hear.

As soon as Jed heard the name Vivianna told him, he swung the chainsaw to the side and connected it with Lizzy's neck, her head flying off in the process. The bottom part of Lizzy fell to the ground as she was decapitated. A portion of Vivianna felt terrible. Lizzy had been nothing but pleasant to everyone, and the only reason she was here was because she was kidnapped. With that being said, Lizzy's actions were the cause of Bud's death and almost the cause of Jed's.

Vivianna held Jed's hand once again as she felt uncomfortable with Verna behind her. "That's my boy. You done good, Jed. You made Mama proud." Verna smiled happily at Jed. 

The three made their way back to the Sawyer house, where they would celebrate Jed's return. "So, you two are datin'?" Verna asked. Both Jed and Vivianna nodded their heads. "Well, ain't that sweet." Although complimenting the relationship, Verna only did so because she didn't want to upset Jed on his day back. She would eventually convince Jed to get rid of the woman that clung to his side; Verna just had to figure out how she would do so.

[saleintothe90s]

244. Big List of Favorite Commercials part 14

(the big list of favorite commercials archive)

"Mr Delicious TV Ad 3 ( The one where he talks about his vasectomy)"

So, we all know the story about Mr. Delicious from Rax Roast Beef from the Vlog Brothers video and how the promotion was a total flop and Rax went into bankruptcy. I had to share him, though. This lil dude was way ahead of his time, I think if he had come out in about 1996 or 2003 people would've "gotten" him.

1987 Sears Retail Testing "Pete Menagin is a happy man" TV Commercial

First person in to be on the chopping block when Sears discontinued their catalog in 1993? Pete.

MERCK commercial featuring Scott Lowell (1999)

You ever wear the wrong thing, and you feel like everybody is looking at you? This commercial is that entire feel.

L'oreal Exuberance Werbung 1995

This outfit. THIS OUTFIT.

Subaru Justy commercial

Take your little tiny Justy and drive far way from your nosy ass family!

RC Cola & The 3 Bears Commercial | 1999 [Israel Subtitles Version 2]

This commercial is absolutely bonkers.

1998 Garden Burger "Paul is shining shoes" TV Commercial

What happened to Garden Burger?! They were white hot in the late 90s and then they disappeared. Loved their fake ribs. I think Kellogg's only offers them to food service companies like cafeterias?

1998 Tostitos Nachos "Chris Elliot & The Beverly Hillbillies" TV Commercial

Remember when this was a trend? Putting dead celebrities in commercials and editing them to make them sell stuff? I gotta touch base more on that later. I also got to throw Chris Elliot a bone. I like his work on that one year he was on Saturday Night Live. That nacho topping looks gross tho.

Pillsbury Flour Funny 80s Commercial (1988)

Maybe because we don't bake or have never baked at my house, but a 25 pound bag of flour?!

Food Emporium commercial (1988)

Okay, so #1 the lady in the commercial twirling around the store and being scared of a lobster looks exactly like the lady from the cover of that Yuppie Handbook. #2: Evian cameo. #3: someone in the comments said:

this is what you hear when you die and go to heaven

Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | YouTube Playlist | Random Post | Ko-fi donation | instagram @thelastvcr​ | tik tok @ saleintothe90s

[gavinsmg24]

Gonna watch S2 ep 2 now! Here’s my post for it as I watch 💘

Chuck playing piano with metronome. Messing up and getting upset.

Ooooh Howard visits chuck with his stuff.

Oooh Howard being straightforward with chuck hehe. I kind of like him now! (Pausing to type cause I wanna get this thought in and not miss anything. So as your reading this. Hiii. Hope you enjoy the rest! 🙈, anyways ) It’s crazy how charismatic Howard is in a different way. Jimmy is quick n smooth. But like. Howard is stern and put together? Anyways. When he talks to chuck. At no point does he say anything to upset or make chuck think howard is being sassy. But also. When Howard speaks to chuck. He says things like. “I didnt pull punches. I painted a complete picture. But I didn’t stand in his way” which is kind of like. Talking about chuck. Chuck sees his background but it’s a step further. He blocks his success. He doesn’t want him to be better bcuz he can’t believe he can be. And Howard. It’s so crazy to be on his side now after most of season 1 what a twist. Anyways. He comes to see chuck. You know he came to tell him Jimmy joined Davis n main. That’s the only real reason for him to show up. He didn’t want to upset chuck. But in the same way. He came there for Jimmy I feel like. He came there to be like. Look what your brother can do when your not stopping him. Hehe. And he also brings up Kim’s help. The only help he wanted was chucks tho. I’m playing the show again! I smoked btw so maybe that’s why I wrote so much but also I just liked this scene a lot.

Back to it!

Also upset chuck looking off as the intro starts

Kim sits Jimmy next to her!! Ahhh! I can see us doing that😖 back to crew trainer class when you drew pics for me 🙈 and hehe! Footsies! Kim n Jim!

She. Said. We!! 😖

Gosh this nerd criminal is wild! Like yeah some of the cards were his dads but also like you can’t care about that stuff and be a criminal lol. He was like No No! Baby man 😝 but mike will get them!

Jimmy gets praised by cliff!!🙈🙈 Jimmy doing good finding more stuff!

Woah! Mine finds where nacho works!!

Carrot n stick 😳 intense convos hehe

Oh geez this nerd checking all the cards in intense scary situation

Selling the car off? And chopping it up hehe

Grrr!! Chuck is coming!! He’s in his suit!

Grrr Jimmy n chuck talking. “To bear witness” only wants to leave the house to keep tabs on Jimmy. So rude!

Oh shit.. Jimmy doing both! I was wondering what he was changing about himself. Good life lawyer mixed with dirty deeds!!

Oh wait. Not dirty? He’s just doing lawyer for nerd guy! To make sure they don’t go to jail

Jimmy coming up with stories on the spot! Heheh🙈 I love it. Art Parton. Lover dispute 😂

All his references and sits in a pie and wiggles 💀

Hehe now they eat pies!

Uh oh. Idk why Jimmy would tell this story. It’s funny but he’s doing bad stuff still. But what’s the point. Oh. It’s cuz he’s doing dirty work!

Foot down on criminal stories!

Jimmy wants fun life and Kim but it doesn’t seem like he can have both!

What’s to be bad bcuz who cares bcuz his brother doesn’t care but then needs to be good to show Kim he wants to be good. She wants him but can sense the crime side in him. But he’s almost impatient? It’s like. He makes it seem (to me) that Jimmy is like. If you be with me I’ll be good but if not then I’ll do what I want which is like not a good way of doing it. Jimmy should be himself but also if he cares about Kim he should want to not do dirty work. He should say no to jobs. Hang up on phone calls. Turn down work. But. We’ll see how it unfolds! I love ya! 💘😘

[robininthelabyrinth]

For a prompt, what if Wen Xu arrives to burn down the Cloud Recesses while everyone is studying there

Home Alone - ao3

“All right,” Wei Wuxian said, when Lan Qiren announced that the Cloud Recesses would be imminently under attack by Wen Xu and the Wen sect armies, the calm in his monotone voice belied by the wrinkle of concern in his forehead. “We’re going to make that bastard wish he’d never been born, right?”

He was speaking lightly, as he always did, trying to make those around him feel more comfortable, braver, less afraid – his was the language of confidence and arrogance, of never backing down, and he didn’t know how else to speak.

He didn’t mean anything in particular by it, or at least not more than he usually did.

He wasn’t expecting Lan Qiren to look at him and say, “If you have any ideas, now is the time to contribute them.”

-

“So what exactly do you do again?” Wei Wuxian asked, following the older Lan sect disciple around – at least, the man was dressed like a Lan sect disciple, and with a forehead ribbon suggesting that he shared blood with the main clan, too, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t so sure he really was one.

“I blow stuff up, usually,” Lan Yueheng said cheerfully.

That was why Wei Wuxian had doubts.

The man was practically skipping. There was no way he was a Lan.

“Shishu is an alchemist,” Lan Wangji said. His hands were folded behind his back, as always, and he looked tense as might be expected, what with an imminent attack on his home by a colossal army intent on ravaging and destroying everything in its path – but the way he looked at Lan Yueheng was unaccountably fond, as if he were someone he was close to. Wei Wuxian hadn’t known there was anyone other than Lan Qiren or Lan Xichen that Lan Wangji was close to. He was oddly jealous. “Not always successfully.”

“Hey, at blowing things up, I am the most successful!” Lan Yueheng grinned. A moment later, though, the grin faded, and he looked anxious. “Wangji, are you sure you won’t go with your brother?”

“Brother will protect the sect books,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. “I will stay here to defend the sect and the guest disciples.”

Wei Wuxian appreciated that, being one of said guest disciples.

Anyway, it made sense. Lan Qiren had seriously considered trying to send them away with Lan Xichen, saying that their lives were more important than some extra books – other Lan elders hadn’t necessarily agreed, judging by their expressions – but regretfully concluded that adding more people to Lan Xichen’s escape route would do nothing but reveal its existence, dooming all of them.

So they’d split up: Lan Xichen, heading out virtually alone with the most precious Lan sect books, and all the rest of them here to try to resist as much as they could – even Lan Wangji.

Lan Yueheng didn’t try to argue with Lan Wangji, only sighed, sounding as though he’d expected nothing less from him and had only felt the need to make a token protest before accepting it as inevitable. It seemed he really was close to Lan Wangji.

Yeah, Wei Wuxian was definitely jealous.

“All right, then,” Lan Yueheng said, shaking his head and resuming his cheer. “Blowing things up in self-defense plan it is! You’re both talented in music, right?”

“What does music have to do with explosions?” Wei Wuxian asked.

-

The answer, apparently, was a lot – at least when you were an experimental alchemist in a musically inclined sect and you’d developed a way to trigger explosions via certain combinations of musical notes.

-

“So, did you know that Teacher Lan was scary?” Wei Wuxian asked Jiang Cheng, who’d finally returned from helping get all the elderly and children and civilians to evacuate – and refusing to join them, of course, even though he was entitled to go in order to preserve his life, being the heir of a sect and all that, completely typical Jiang Cheng – and was now pacing around, eager for a fight.

“Just because he punished you a few times doesn’t make him scary,” Jiang Cheng said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “You know what does make him scary? Playing music that makes his opponents try to cut their own necks.”

“…what?”

“Apparently he gets really upset when you mess with his students,” Wei Wuxian said wisely.

Unlike Jiang Cheng, he’d had time to adjust to the concept of Lan Qiren being terrifying: they were on the fifth wave of scouts, and this set wasn’t doing any better than the first four, not even when they’d realized it would be better if they stopped their ears with wax before approaching.

That’d only made Lan Qiren shift tactics – and songs.

Some of which had an even wider area of impact.

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said, looking at him suspiciously. “What did you do?”

“I convinced Teacher Lan that guerrilla warfare that destroyed as much of the enemy as possible would be more effective than just trying to defend the sect’s territory, since that was clearly a lost cause,” Wei Wuxian said promptly. “He agreed, but said that he could only do so much since he wasn’t a very good sword fighter. And then I asked him if he knew anything else that could be used as an attack and he said ‘no’ and then he said ‘well, I suppose’ and then he listed off a few things that – according to him – aren’t meant to be used in warfare but, and this is a direct quote, ‘could be put to a destructive use if one so wished it’.”

“And we now ‘so wish it’?”

“Yup. Oh, and watch out for anything that has a Lan sect cloud with a three-looped circle carved into the side of it, and I do mean anything– those explode.”

“Of course they do.”

“Hey! For once it has nothing to do with me!”

-

“I thought you said he said he was bad at swordfighting,” Jiang Cheng said suspiciously.

Wei Wuxian held out his hands helplessly in a ‘don’t look at me’ gesture, trying to defend himself from a sharp and pointy elbow to the side while also not pulling his eyes away from the ongoing battlefield for even a single moment.

“Shufu considers himself to be of average skill at the sword,” Lan Wangji said in the peaceable tone of someone who had been taught the basics of swordfighting by the person in question. The basics of really awesome swordfighting. “His real strength is in music, as you’ve seen.”

“I get that, really, I do, his music is terrifying,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it completely. Between the two, he’d rather go up against Lan Qiren with a sword, where he’d at least be able to make a decent showing of himself before getting chopped to bits by the man’s fluid and almost seemingly delicate style that was nevertheless highly effective at skewering Wen sect disciples left and right; it would be better than with music, where he might as well just cut his own throat or strangle himself with guqin strings now to save Lan Qiren’s fingers the trouble. “But Jiang Cheng’s still right, okay – why in the world does he consider that to be ‘average’? Who is he comparing himself to?”

Lan Wangji considered the question for a long moment, then finally said: “A statistical outlier.”

-

“I wish we had aerial attacks we could use against the Wen sect’s swords,” Wei Wuxian said wistfully, and next to him Jiang Cheng nodded with a sight of longing – it was so frustrating seeing more and more Wen sect soldiers arriving in groups, like flocks of birds that started to fill the skies because they couldn’t be so easily shot down. “But if we try anything, they’ll just shield against us.”

“Teacher Lan said we can’t use spiritual energy against them, since we’d lose,” Jiang Cheng said, and as much as they all regretted it, Lan Qiren was probably right: they might be better trained than the Wen sect soldiers, might be better cultivators and stronger in spiritual energy individually, but they were young and immature, and at a serious numerical disadvantage.

It would be far too easy for the flying cultivators to stop their flying just long enough to set up a defensive array, block whatever spiritual attack they sent out, and then keep going to find and stab them before they’d even recovered from the energy expenditure.

“I didn’t mean spiritual energy,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “I just meant, you know, like the explosives we’ve laid in all over the ground – something like that. If we could attach those to something…”

“I don’t think we have anything that flies anyway,” Lan Yueheng said regretfully.

“You have lanterns, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang said, and everyone turned to look at him. “Fill them with something that explodes when disturbed and send them floating into the air. Better yet, write ‘peace’ on the side of them to make it look like you’re making some sort of meaningful gesture designed to shame them. The Wen sect won’t be able to resist kicking them aside as an insult, and that’ll trigger them.”

They all stared at him.

He shrugged.

“We have a lot of defenses set up against invasion, at home,” he said. “And not always the budget to pay for anything fancy, so we’ve come up with some slightly more unorthodox ideas, too.”

“It’s a really good idea,” Wei Wuxian said, suddenly focused on the hitherto ignored Nie Huaisang. Clearly he’d made a tactical error, thinking of himself as the only person who knew how to get up to tricks. “Do you have any other ideas like that?”

Nie Huaisang smiled.

-

“Teacher Lan, I have an idea,” Wei Wuxian said, inserting himself briefly into the clearing near the Lan sect gate where Lan Qiren was sitting to rest in preparation for the Wen sect’s next attack. “But you’re going to hate it.”

“You may proceed,” Lan Qiren said, not looking up.

“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said, blinking. “Really? You’re not even going to ask what it is? Or why you’d hate it so much?”

“There is no time for that,” Lan Qiren said, and finally spared him a glance. He looked tired. “Things will get worse very soon.”

“But we’re winning!”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, shaking out his fingers – even despite occasionally alternating to using the sword when necessary, he’d played his guqin to the point of drawing blood and breaking nails, and was continuing despite everyone pleading with him to stop and swap out for someone else for a while. He’d said that there was no one else on his level, and he was probably right, but still, surely, just for a little… “We are surviving. Do not mistake the two.”

-

“Okay, so,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his hands together. “Resentful energy –”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

-

“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian said to Jin Zixuan, who’d probably just saved his life by stabbing a Wen sect cultivator in the back right before the man had been able to stop Wei Wuxian from activating another series of explosions. “I guess I owe you one?”

“Don’t mention it,” Jin Zixuan said. “How else can I help?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian said, scratching his head and thinking about Nie Huaisang as precedent. There wasn’t time for schoolyard rivalries right now. “Do you have anything really unexpected that could be used to hurt people? Be creative – they’re guarded against all the usual defenses, so the weirder the better, anything goes. I won’t judge.”

Jin Zixuan thought about it. “I’m pretty sure I have a drug that puts people to sleep?”

“…why do you have something like that?”

Jin Zixuna grimaced. “My father gave it to me along with another one that he said not to use in excess, though I don’t actually know what that one does because that was about when my mom ran in and started throwing things at him. I can’t throw it away because it was a gift from my father, but I put it as deep into my bags as I could so that I’d never have to see or touch it. Ever.”

Wei Wuxian’s nose wrinkled. He’d never before felt pity for Jin Zixuan, but having to put up with Jin Guangshan on a regular basis was pretty bad – much less owing him filial piety.

No wonder Jin Zixuan was so twitchy all the time.

“Okay, so one sleep drug and one…uh…”

“Enhancement. Presumably. Can we throw it at the other side? Maybe turn it into incense and make smoke-bombs or something?”

“You know what,” Wei Wuxian said. “Why not? If nothing else, it’d be distracting, right?”

-

“This doesn’t feel honorable,” Jiang Cheng said, watching the fun. They’d raided the Lan sect’s medicine cabinets and kitchens for other noxious and irritating substances that might make for good smoke-bombs – Jiang Cheng himself had even located a whole patch of something not unlike poison ivy that had been quickly repurposed for the cause. “Strictly speaking.”

“Honor’s overrated,” Wei Wuxian said. “Making the Wen bastards pay for attacking Lan Zhan’s home is what’s important.”

Lan Wangji didn’t smile, exactly, but Wei Wuxian took his expression as a win regardless.

-

It turned out that music could also make plants grow really fast.

According to Lan Qiren, the spell ruined the plants’ nutritional value and made them basically useless.

Well.

Useless if your goal was eating them, anyway.

(First they could grow under their enemies’ feet and attack them, roots and vines twining around them to strangle them, and then they could be used up in the smoke-bombs – two for the price of one!)

-

“Are you sure about not doing the whole resentful energy thing?”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said. “No.”

-

“Hey, Wei-xiong, do you have or can you create any more papermen?” Jin Zixuan asked.

“Yes, sure, plenty,” Wei Wuxian said. He’d like to say that he’d known he’d one day need such a skill, and that that was why he’d learned the trick so thoroughly, but that was a complete lie. “Why?”

“Nie-xiong, Jiang-xiong and I are going to use them to make a shadow-play to lure a bunch of Wen sect cultivators into another plant-and-explosives trap.”

“…that’s amazing, Jin-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said, marveling. “How do you even think of that?”

“Even I get into trouble sometimes,” Jin Zixuan said, and was startled into an unexpected smile when Jiang Cheng punched his shoulder approvingly.

-

Wei Wuxian was actually having a pretty good time with it all right up until the main force of the Wen sect decided to ignore all their traps and charge straight towards the classroom they’d fallen back to using as a headquarters, and then suddenly he wasn’t having a good time at all.

“Run,” Lan Qiren said, and put down his guqin, drawing his sword once more.

“But we can fight!” Jiang Cheng argued.

“Run.”

“Shufu –”

“Run.”

They ran.

-

“If you don’t come out, I’m going to make him pay,” Wen Xu called.

His fingers were knotted in Lan Qiren’s hair, pulling their teacher’s head back to show how his face was covered in blood, how it was seeping out through his mouth and nose, how one of his eyes was badly bruised and swollen from having been beaten down by sheer force of numbers.

Lan Qiren had made them pay dearly for their efforts to bring him down –

But there were just so many of them.

“How dare he,” Jiang Cheng hissed. “He was once one of Teacher Lan’s students, too!”

Wei Wuxian was holding Lan Wangji back, but only barely; his fingers were starting to go numb from the sheer effort of it. If Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng weren’t there to help him hold him down, Lan Wangji would have already given away their position, rushing out to make some futile gesture in his overwhelming rage. Wei Wuxian was focusing with all his being on how much he had to stop Lan Wangji from doing something like that, because if he wasn’t, if he let himself think about anything else for even a single moment, he’d have also run out there, sword drawn, without so much as a care – he hadn’t realized he’d be so angry over it, so furious, so betrayed and horrified by Wen Xu’s cruelty.

Prior to today, he wouldn’t have said he even liked Lan Qiren!

“My students are not so foolish as to fall for so obvious a scheme as that,” Lan Qiren said, his tone as monotonous as it ever was during his lectures – for the briefest moment, Wei Wuxian felt that he was dreaming, that he had merely dreamt everything that had happened: surely it was still yesterday, with Lan Qiren standing tall, safe and healthy, at the front of the classroom, lecturing about one of the Lan sect rules…which one had it been? Shoulder the weight of morality? Have a strong will and anything can be achieved? Be mighty, and others will die for you?

Do not break faith?

Somehow, despite everything that had happened, Lan Qiren’s eyes curved ever so slightly.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

Wen Xu threw him down to the ground, mouth twisting and teeth gnashing with offended anger.

“Beat him,” he ordered his men. “Make it hurt. I want him screaming – let’s see how his precious students like that. Or maybe it’s just that they don’t care?”

-

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, eyes red with unshed tears and barely swallowed rage. “Tell me your idea about resentful energy.”

-

“Perhaps,” Lan Qiren said, then paused briefly to cough up some blood. His voice, when he resumed speaking, was hoarse. “Perhaps I should have reviewed your idea more closely when you first proposed it.”

“Possibly,” Wei Wuxian said, offering up some cloth to help wipe away the blood. Lan Wangji was busy bandaging his uncle’s injuries up, while Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Nie Huaisang hovered by the door, only barely pretending to be keeping a lookout the way they were supposed to. “In my defense, I didn’t quite expect…that.”

Everyone politely did not ask him to elaborate.

The effects had been…well, it turned out using resentful energy the way Wei Wuxian had thought was possible, to say the least, and also that they’d taken down an awful lot of Wen sect soldiers in their defensive efforts.

“You will all have been affected by the resentful energy you used to summon the corpses,” Lan Qiren said. “Although the method you devised appears to avoid the most immediate consequences, which – let me remind you – include qi deviation and death in some instances, there is always the possibility that it has left traces of resentful energy within your meridians. If it is allowed to build up, it will escalate into a backlash that would rip your body and soul to pieces. There are spells and songs that can help clear your spirits and ease the effects.”

“Nie Huaisang has been playing some of them for us, since he can’t fight,” Lan Wangji said. “Nie sect ones – they’re…uh, not especially calming, more of a cleanse-by-force thing, but they seem to be working.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We’ll listen to any others that you’d like, Teacher Lan,” he said, anxious, and the rest of them nodded. “Just say which ones. If there’s any array or anything – or if you want us to write an essay about why using resentful energy is dangerous and wrong –”

Even Wei Wuxian nodded at that – even Nie Huaisang nodded, and he hated essays more than anything.

Lan Qiren huffed lightly. “Now you’re all so obedient.”

They all bowed their heads.

“…you did a good job,” Lan Qiren finally said, and they all looked up to stare at him. “You rescued me and repelled the Wen sect, however temporarily. Even though you used demonic cultivation, which is forbidden, you did not purposefully disturb graves, and you can make recompense to the spirits later. It was well done, and I thank you for it.”

He noticed that they were gaping and frowned at them.

“What have I taught you?” he scolded, and he sounded enough like he normally did that Wei Wuxian had the sudden urge to burst into totally inexplicable tears. “The preservation of human life is the priority, always. Why is this a surprise?”

“Shufu is right,” Lan Wangji said, and there was something of peace and calm in his eyes, the foundation of his world steady and unfaltering – he was almost glowing with it, satisfied and happy, and he was so utterly beautiful in Wei Wuxian’s eyes that it was almost blinding. “We acknowledge Teacher’s words.”

“We acknowledge Teacher’s words,” everyone else quickly agreed.

Lan Qiren shook his head, nodding in appreciation. “What is your next step now?” he asked. “The Wen sect was only repulsed, not defeated. They will not be gone long – they are already regrouping outside our gate, and this time they will be prepared for the effects of your demonic cultivation. In the end, they still have the advantage of numbers.”

“I don’t think we got as far as that in our plan,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing the back of his head.

His thinking had mostly stopped at get Teacher Lan back and make them pay. He was pretty sure the same was true for Lan Wangji, and probably all the rest of the, too.

“Maybe you didn’t,” Nie Huaisang said with a sniff, and damnit, Wei Wuxian really needed to stop underestimating him just because he was a bad cultivator and a bit empty-headed. “I, on the other hand, sent a message back to my da-ge way back when this first started, and he should be here very soon with an army of his own.”

-

There were those in the Jiang sect that liked to mock the Nie sect as being unduly paranoid, always preparing for war and speaking grimly of its inevitability, always training their disciples and soldiers as if each one of them would need to fight five or ten of the enemy at once.

If Wei Wuxian ever met any of those people ever again, he was going to punch them in the face.

“Just be sure to get your sect ready when you get back,” Nie Mingjue advised them all grimly when it was all done and Wen Xu’s head was stuck on a pike at the entrance to the Cloud Recesses as a warning. The Nie sect’s forces were smaller than the Wen sect’s invasion force, but their people were better trained; even after flying all the way from Qinghe, they’d come down on the remaining invasion force like a hammer. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

“We understand. There is still war to come.”

“Not just war, but uneven and unbalanced war, and not in our favor,” Nie Mingjue said heavily. “Understand that even with this loss, the forces of all the cultivation world put together can’t match up to the armies under Wen Ruohan’s command.”

“Actually,” Lan Qiren said, and gave all of his students a pointed look, probably on account of the fact that they all still owed him the essay they'd promised to write, “I think you’ll find that there’s something more that we can add…”

[random-imagines-blog]

The Ask and the Answer {Jaime Lannister x Female!Reader Oneshot NSFW}

Requested by: @mrs-blooooom​ Wordcount: 2146 Summary: You and Jaime Lannister have the Throne Room all to yourself for a little while. Notes: Oral, Roleplay.

You had yourself a very bad habit that would be frowned upon by the King without a doubt. That habit of sneaking into the Throne Room and sitting by the windows, looking out upon the city. It was a view that could not be beat. The reason you got away with it was because the main guardian of the room was Jaime Lannister himself. Now that was still a secret - your flirtations with the Queen’s very handsome brother. The blonde knight, with his golden-tinged hair and his charming smile, the one who tended to sit beside you during feasts or would accompany you on rides throughout King’s Landing when you had errands to run outside of the castle. Just a man doing his job, feigning annoyed glances towards his sister but making many flirty remarks when it was just the two of you. Sometimes  he would play hard to get, like now, when he was trying not to look at you because if he did, it was his duty to tell you to leave the room. Standing firm, eyes straight ahead while you danced around him teasingly, your skirts riding up near your knees which made him want to look so badly.

“Why are you doing this to me,” He grumbled, closing his eyes as he saw the flash of skin in his periphery. His stance slightly widened, a struggle not to take in the very sight of you. A temptation that he found very difficult to ignore.

“Doing what?” You asked, moving to be in front of him. Taunting him like this was your favorite thing to do, especially when you were able to get a rise out of him.

“Being you,” He said, bringing a sweet smile to your face. You decided to give him a moment’s reprieve, putting a halt on your dancing to go and stand near the throne, not daring to touch it. It had such revenance, such power behind all of the swords that were melted down to make the piece.

“I wouldn’t know how to be anyone else,” You said, which made you start to think. Start to wonder. “Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be King?”

“No,” Jaime said, knowing that if he had said yes, he might be tried for treason. “I’m happy in my position in the King’s guard.”

“Even if that means that you get nothing?” You asked, feeling for him even if he could not feel for himself. He was put in a very difficult place, Jaime. Protecting his family, his sister and his nieces and nephews, and getting little back in return. No land, no children - and no wife, which was why any sort of flirting with him was just teasing because nothing could ever come of it. It was a cruel, cruel world.

“I wouldn’t say I have nothing,” He said, the hint of a smirk coming over his cheek. “I would rather this than being married to a Tully.”

Right - becoming a member of the Kingsguard had ruined Tywin’s plans for his son. But the Tully’s loss was your benefit. He wasn’t likely to have ever looked at you if he had been married. You never would have met, in fact.

“That’s fair,” You said, looking over to him and then back on the throne. “You would look amazing with a crown though, Ser Lannister.”

“Don’t,” he sighed, still trying to avoid looking over at you. “You’re going to have my head on the chopping block if you keep putting thoughts in my head.”

“Do you ever sit in it - when you’re alone in here?” You questioned with a purr.

“Lady y/l/n....” He said, struggling to keep composure. You could swear that he was starting to blush over there. Under that lightly-tanned skin of his, blood was evident. You could see it rushing to his face. “I need you to stop.”

But the fact that he wasn’t looking at you just spurred you on. “You’ve got to try it at least once, come on, no one is due in here for a while.”

Oh you could see the temptation on his face. He did look over to the throne, and then straight back towards the doors like a good guard. You didn’t ask a second time, instead you went and sat down by the throne, touching the arms of it. The Iron Throne. Your fingers went against one of the swords, going down it, the cold steel. It hardly looked like a comfortable seat but it was a powerful one.

“Maybe just the once,” He said, giving in to you the way that he always did. Jaime always was a bit of a bad boy, even for a Knightsguard. You moved to the side a touch while he walked up to the throne. Like you, he touched it, feeling the metal beneath his hand before he finally took a seat in it, settling back, his armor making more noise than he had intended as it fell back - steel to steel.

He really did look like a King on the throne, all he was missing was a Kingdom - but you could at least provide a little of that. You rolled yourself up to your knees in a way that might ruin your dress. You could fix it later. When you were in the heat of a moment, nothing else mattered. Only Jaime did right now. And making him feel like the King that he was in your eyes.

“Oh, King Jaime,” You said, making sure to keep your voice down so no one passing by may hear. “I’m just a poor citizen of the city. Living in shambles. I would do anything for to help me. Give anything.”

Jaime smirked a little, his shoulders settling into a stern position as he got into his role. Or maybe he just liked the sound of you begging.

“If you’re living in shambles, you have nothing to offer me,” He said, looking down on you. Weirdly, that was really arousing too. You started at the foot of his boots, starting to touch there, before desperately moving your hands up his shapely calves onto his knee. His golden-colored hand was resting on one of them while the other was holding onto the armrest of the chair. The hand was cold. The side of your own hand touched it while you ran your palms over his knees.

“But there is something that I can offer you, sire...” You said, scooching forward even more until your chest was pressed against his knees. He raised an eyebrow, not catching on. You had never been so forward before. But you were getting tired of dancing around the point. Actual intercourse was out of the question. You were in too high a position to just end up pregnant without there being a hundred rumors that you would have to address. And you had no answers to. So this - this was what you could do. You had heard about how men go crazy for it - time to test it yourself.

“And what’s that?” He asked. You moved your hands further up his thighs, licking your lips. He looked both intrigued - and a little worried. His eyes kept flickering from you to the door.

“My mouth,” You said, quietly, leaning down to start to kiss his leggings, feeling his leg beneath the fabric. Those thick, strong thighs that already had your mouth watering.

“We can’t. I can’t,” He said, attempting to get onto his feet. You didn’t let him. You pushed down on his thighs so that he was forced back down. Not that he was trying too hard. He was pliant beneath your hands. “What if someone walks in? If someone sees-”

“Doesn’t that add to the excitement of it all?” You asked. “I should move quicker... just in case.”

He groaned as your hands went up higher, past his false hand, to go to the laces that kept his trousers in place. You pulled at one of the strings, making it all fall loose. “Y/n....” He warned.

“I think we have a couple of minutes,” You whispered. “So we should start...” You tugged on the fabric slowly. Trying to bring it down, down, down so you could see what was underneath. He sprung out, already as hard as that false hand of his. The one that he was so insecure about. But he was not insecure about what hung between his legs. “If you keep paying more attention to the door, I’m going to start to get offended,” You said with a smirk, taking in the sight of him. And then added on hastily, “-my King.”

“You’re going to need to distract me,” He breathed. You agreed with that, and started on the most obvious way how. You wrapped your hands around him, needing both of them to take the length. He moaned beneath your touch, just like that. It was a sound you haven’t heard come out of him before. It was arousing. That and the way that his mouth fell open. The way that his jaw jutted out to give him an overbite as he took in all of the feelings that you were making him experience.

“Take it,” He said, turning into someone else in front of your eyes. “Take it before someone sees - oh Gods-”

You licked at the tip teasingly. One of his hands started to go through your intricate hairstyle, messing it up in a way that would be noticed but you weren’t worried about a thing at the moment. But his other hand, the one that he was so self-conscious about - you could see him pulling it back.

You stopped him while wrapping your mouth around him. You grabbed his arm where the stump turned into metal. You pulled it gently so that it would be resting on your shoulder now. You popped your lips off of him with an audible sound."Both hands, my King. I want you to feel every little bit of how much I ... need you.”

It wasn’t even an act anymore. You felt like you really did. You started to really put in an effort, keeping eye contact with his gorgeous dark brown eyes. Bobbing your head forwards and backwards as you really tried to take as much of him in as possible. Your breath was coming out of your nose in moans. You weren’t able to go too far but what you could take, Jaime was appreciating. His head fell back against the throne, taking in the sight of the gold of the hand against the rich colors of your dress, and appreciating the view that he had down the front of it.

He groaned as you started to take more and more of him into your mouth. Not all of the way. Only the experienced girls could but you weren’t getting any complaints out of him.

It didn’t take him long - it just have been a while since he recieved any sort of stimulation. “I’m going to - I’m gonna-” You sucked in your cheeks, really hollowing out the space in your mouth so there was only room for him. It made him shudder, made a shiver go up his spine. It sent him over the edge. He ejaculated into your mouth and you got your first taste of something from him other than his lips. Bitter. Warm. You swallowed it down.

Just in time too. You could hear the sound of guards coming towards the door. Someone was coming in, and since it was the throne room, it could only be the King.

You hurried to your feet, wiping the corners of your mouth to make sure that there was nothing there. Jaime jumped off of the throne, retying his trouser strings. When that proved to troublesome, he pulled down his breastplate as much as he could to cover it before getting back into position.

“And that is all that Tyrion has sent me to tell you, Ser Jaime,” You said, tucking a stray curl behind your ear, pretending to be in conversation as the doors opened and the King walked in, followed by his guards.

“Thank you, Lady y/n,” Jaime said stiffly. You took no offense, that was the way that you kept this all so secret. “Is that all?”

You were reading into that a little too much, perhaps. Rolling your tongue around in your mouth, feeling the eyes of the guards on you, you shook your head. Only Jaime was in front of you, the rest behind. They couldn’t see the smile that you were giving to the Lannister.

“Only for now,” You said, before bowing your head. You turned and faced the King, gave him a bow of your head and left the room, hands held in front of you.

Only for now, Jaime Lannister.

[bubsdolan]

Bubba you can ignore this but I AM H**NYYY 😩(I’m sorry that’s tmi)!! Can you write a hella detailed and dirty blurb of Gray eating out the reader pls🙃

ask & you shall receive my love.. sorry it’s late hope you’re still as horny for gray as i am

you were standing at the kitchen counter, minding your own business on a bright and beautiful morning. you were up nice and early to get as much work packed into your day as possible, deciding the best way to start your day was with a nice healthy breakfast, but in seeing you dressed in nothing but his shirt and tiny little panties… your incredibly needy boyfriend seemed to have other plans for your morning.

you just looked so hot, better than any food you were preparing, that grayson couldn't keep his hands to himself. his cock was twitching in his briefs as he watch yours- his- tshirt ride up as you reached into a cupboard, exposing your delicious arse and panties.

you were startled by his sudden presence when you feel his warm breath fan over your neck and his arms snake around your middle. his voice husky as he had only just woken up, darting out of bed immediately when he discovered you weren’t by his side. your face was always the first thing grayon needed to see in the mornings so he made no expectations when leaving the comfort of his bed and going in search of you. 

“hmm, morning baby,” grayson whispered in the crook of your neck, causing your skin to litter in goosebumps and you to relax into his arms. 

“morning bear, you hungry? im making pancakes,” you put down the knife you were using to chop fruit in order to turn around in his hold, meeting his scruffy tried appearance as you press your lips to his for a good morning kiss. a lazy sloppy kiss that filled a void in both of you. 

“m’hungry for you instead.”

within a second grayson is lifting you onto the kitchen counter, swipping off whatever was in his way before he’s pushing you down flat on your back. “you’re so wet already baby, i can’t wait to taste you.” grayson caressed your thighs, referencing the very noticeable wet spot on your panties as he hurriedly spread your legs apart to stand between them, pushing your panties down and throwing them aimlessly across the kitchen. 

“gotta be quick mama, dont wanna wake ethan up,” grayson smirks, dropping to his knees and blowing warm spurts of air directily onto your clit, breathing in the sweet scent of your pussy that was already glistening. he let out a soft laugh in disbelief at how incredibly soaked you already were, without even being touched. grayson was obsessed with the power he had over your body without even trying.

“please daddy, ne-need you ohhh,”  his eyes flickering up to see you watching him intently as he began by tenderly kissing your pussy, making comments about how soft you are and how you smelled so sweet. he did every he knew that will get a reaction from you, making you squirm underneath his touch and loving that your gaze didn’t leave him once even if you tried. 

his mouth was coated in your slick and he licked his lips, closing his eyes to savor the way you tasted. his body inched forward in an attempt to be as close to you as possible before switching to his tongue.

his tongue laid flat agasint your lips, collecting your juices from bottom to top giving a long lick from your pussy to your arsehole, where he would pull your legs apart to reach a little deeper. burying his head so deep inside your cunt it was almost suffocating.

when he's eating you out all your can hear are his animalistic growls, slurps and moans that make your walls vibrate. his tongue worked like magic, grayson already knowing all your weak spots and the parts of your body you didn't even know existed. his large hands were collapsed around your thighs as his eyes flicked between his meal, then your face as it scrunched up in pleasure. 

“fuck fuck fuck, yes daddy. right there!” you reached down between your legs and used your hands to tug on his hair, encouraging him to stick his tongue deeper inside your walls.

“that’s a good girl,” he whispered against you to himself, proud of how loud and unapologetic you were being even though his brother was a few doors away. he swore that if the ethan had walked in the kitchen at this very moment, he’d stop eating your pussy and show him how pretty you looked so fucked out underneath him.

his tongue began to dart in and out of you at a faster speed when hearing your moans of his name. he had never loved his name more than when it fell from your lips, so needy for him. it made him smug.

his grip your thighs tightened as you started to squirm around, curling your toes and bucking your hips due to the pace at which he was eating you out. grayson head was moving dangerously as he tried to catch every last of your wetness before diving deeper for some more.

grayson paused briefly to lift his head out of your pussy and spit on your entrance before diving back in, his tongue so deep inside of you that you almost considered begging for his cock instead. 

“gray,” you muttered, tugging on his hair. closing your legs around his head to keep him firmly in place.

“eyes on me when you cum, ok sweetheart.” his eyes filled with lust and darkened when he stared up at you between your legs. capturing the imagine of your panting and begging for him in his mind, he had never seen you look more beautiful.

“cum for me, baby,” he urged. “i’m ready for you.” his face was already drenched in your juices, but it wasn’t enough for him. he wanted you to squirt all over not only his face, your body but also the kitchen counters. he was desperate for you to make a mess and orgasm like you never had before.

“daddy! oh..my god i can feel it coming!”

“that’s right, good girl. give me all that cum.” 

you obliged, spilling into his mouth and screaming out his name for anyone listening it sounded like you were being murdered. your legs were non stop vibrating as he lapped away at your cunt, being sure to collect every drop of cum that left your hole and fucking you through your high.

he pullsd away satisfied when you whined about feeling sensitive and tugged his head away as you tried to steady you breathing. the brown hairs of his beard glistened with your arousal and he wore it proudly, wiping his chin a little with the back of his hand and leaning back to kiss you, wanting you to taste yourself on his lips.

“you’re so fucking delicious you know that?” 

you couldn’t help but giggle and sigh and kiss him once more. your heart so full of love for this man that you were willing to change your entire schedule just to spend the day wrapped up in his arms, going for round after round of unbelievable sex and blocking out the entire world. it was just the two of you wrapped up in each other and that was all that mattered.

[apinchofm]

Fluffy request

Miyako throws Baldwin a surprise family birthday party.

Given the tensions between Baldwin and Mathew I would imagine that it would be after the third season where everyone could gather together and have a good time.

Surprising Baldwin was not an easy task. The man had more eyes and ears than M.I.5, networks that not even the family knew about.

So when Miyako wanted to throw her father a birthday party, she knew she would need everyone in on this to help.

"Are we going to war?" Marcus asked, seeing a board out with plans.

"What? No, it's father's birthday." Miyako said.

"He's what? 2,308?" Gallowglass tried to recall, "Around that?" Miyako nodded.

"So, I am throwing a surprise party." She announced.

"You can't surprise your father. Not even Philippe could," Matthew told her, "Even when you think you're five steps ahead, he's already thought of those steps."

"Which is why I need everyone in on this. You, for example, will use your children to distract him." Miyako said and Matthew nodded.

"You want us to use the twins to distract him?" Diana asked, "It cannot be that serious. It's a birthday party."

All the vampires just looked at her. Baldwin had spies everywhere, especially on his own family.

"How do you think he knows when to email you? Or that you haven't read them," Marcus said.

"Oh, and know that if anyone spills, you face the pain of death." Miyako finished after giving out their duties.

"She's his kid," Chris muttered under his breath, looking at the list of supplies he, Miriam and Marthe needed to get.

Gallowglass said, "How much chaos do you need? I can stir up a few old mates in Belfast."

"Perfect!"

"I'm sorry, we're going to reignite a civil war to distract him?" Diana asked,

"Not the whole war, just a few fights that freak out the British government, which distracts Baldwin," Miriam explained.

"A war is the only thing that will keep him busy," Verin said.

.....

Baldwin was having a weird few weeks. His family were most definitely up to something. But then he couldn't focus on that because Becca and Pip wanted to play and he couldn't deny them.

But then there was a fight between some new IRA and Orange order members and Gallowglass almost killed a protestant.

Oh, they were most definitely up to something. He just hoped it wasn't something that would put his head on the chopping block

.....

"He's on his way." Matthew said to his niece, his voice lowered, "I don't know how much longer we can keep him at Les Revenants, the twins are getting tired,"

"Matthew, I'm going to be a Sept-Tours, give Diana my regards," Baldwin announced, grabbing his coat.

"Wait!" Matthew said, "Um, I'll come. Help me sort the twins out."

"I would like us to spend more time as a family, catch up. In fact, why don't we walk, show the twins the grounds? Remember how we all used to do that? With Hugh, Stasia?" Matthew said.

Baldwin furrowed his eyebrows, "Okay. Why not?"

"Miyako has been acting strange. As has Marcus and Gallowglass." Baldwin said as they were walking.

"You know those three. Thick as thieves." Matthew said and that merely piqued Baldwin's suspicions that his brother was in on it. He kept an eye on Marcus more than anything.

As they approached Sept-Tours, he saw the multiple vehicles parked outside.

"Let's go inside, it seems as if the family is all here." Matthew smiled.

When they approached the main ballroom, Baldwin realised exactly what was going on.

"Surprise!" Everyone yelled as the door was opened. The ballroom was decorated beautifully.

"Oh, this all wonderful," Baldwin praised, "Thank you cara." He kissed and hugged his daughter.

"No problem." She replied, "You knew this was happening, didn't you?"

He squeezed her cheek, "Yes. But I appreciate a well-thought stratagem. I raised you well, and I'm thankful."

"Wait, so I had to deal with the English for nothing?" Gallowglass asked.

"Yes, but it was very entertaining. Watching you all attempt to lie and run around like headless chickens was the real gift," Baldwin said, "And Eric, if you wind up your Catholic mates again, I will bite you in front of everyone."

"Happy birthday father," Miyako said.

[redstoneverdict]

Ok so this is inspired by @petrichormeraki hermit tommy au, go check them out they both come up with great stuff.

Tommy has been living with the hermits for almost 2 and a half months now and honestly he can’t remember the last time he felt like he could just let himself breath. The first few weeks were rough, seeing that joe hills found him passed out and a few steps away from death door one day when he was out and about. Tommy didn’t think he would just be running for so long, trying to get as much distance between him and lmanburg as possible. But he should’ve know exustion would catch up to him eventually, especially having just narrowly escaping a group of pillagers.

It took them awhile to even get him to fully wake up again, and even after that he felt too weak to keep on running so grian offered to let him stay in his old hobbit hole. Tommy didn’t want to accept the mans pitty but he still couldn’t even lift up a sword much less build a temporary starter base so he caved in. It only took about another week of relaxation before he was able to fully run around again and took up helping grian around his base and his various projects as a sort of payment for letting him stay in his old base.

Tommy was surprised with how well they got along, but honestly it shouldn’t have been to much of a shock seeing as they both love red and tend to be more of the michivsious type. It probably helped that Grian reminded him so much of his older brother Wilbur, he almost asked one day if the two was related somehow but decided against it. Tommy doesn’t want another connection to the pass he is trying to leave behind.

Currently they where gathering materials for grians barge and had been at it for most of the day, and had started chatting away about various things like best ways to prank people and what is xisuma hideing under his helmet, before falling into a comfortable silence. Tommy used to not be able to stand the silence, having always filled with with whatever comes to mind, but during his exiled, and when he ran away, he started to become more quiet. Why talk when there was no one there to hear you anyway, well anyone that was actually alive and could remember the inside jokes you where attempting to make.

Tommy’s thoughts drift to his brother, Wilbur. He still sort of feels bad for leaving without even telling him, seeing as he was the only one besides dream who actively tried to help him and vist him back in logshire, but honestly he probably would’ve forgotten him too by now, just like every other bad memory. He feels a tap on his shoulder.

“-tommy are you even listening?” Grian ask, takeing a step back after seeing tommy jump in his skin and pull out his sword before realizing it’s just grian.

“Oh sorry” Tommy says sheepishly, “I was just cought in my own thoughts, what is it?” He ask puting his sword away.

“ I said we’ve been working for awhile, how about we take a break and eat something” grian says pointing over to a shady spot in the distance.

Tommy didn’t notice the ache in his arms untill grian mentioned it and agreed, packing up their shoker boxes and flying over there, he still wasn’t quite used to useing elytra but feeling the wind blowing pass him definitely helped ground him after having thought about the past.

The two sat and ate for awhile, laughing at a story about how mumbo really made a his demise bunkers door code 1,2,3,4 and then falling into silence as they ate some more.

“ ya know” grian said inbetween bites of a sandwich he had brought, “ we always say mumbos the youngest around here but I don’t think I ever cought your age” he puts the sandwich down, “ and I’d rather not assume since I look pretty young myself, but how old are you?”

Tommy pauses and think, how old is he? He hadn’t really thought about since leaving. “ Um, what day is it?” He ask.

“ April 13th” Grian replys, looking kinda worried.

“ oh”, Tommy pauses, had it really been that long since he ran away? He shrugs “ I guess I’m 17 now, my birthday was on the 4th”, he says nonchalantly, taking another bite out of his pork chop.

“REALLY?” Grian is shocked, he figured tommy was at least 18 but finding out he was just 16 when joe found him all beaten up and knocking on deaths door steps puts him back a bit. But he can’t really be one to judge seeing how his teenage years where, and he knows that if he had the chance he would’ve ran away from it all a lot sooner then he did. “ wow wish I knew sooner, we could’ve thrown you a party or something” he says giving tommy a playful nudge, but tommy goes still and a look crosses over his face.

“N-no” Tommy says, furrowing his eyebrows and looking away, “no it’s alright, I kinda don’t do parties anymore. The last one I tried to throw, no one even showed up, I mean dream did-“ Tommy whinces, saying his name “but he doesn’t really count”

“No one?” Grian ask, taking note of dreams name, it’s the first time tommy has said someone’s name from his past, and he’s surprised it’s someone he vaguely knows, but he keeps quiet about it for now.

“Nope, not my best friend, not even my own family” Tommy’s voice lowers on the last part, pain written all over his face, before he pushes himself up. “ But now of that really matters now, does it?”. Tommy’s whole demeanor changes as he goes back into his usual self. “ how about we load up your shit head back to the shopping district before it gets to late yeah? I got other things to do besides being your bitch”

Grian knows tommy has been trying to cut back on his swearing, and that he’s just trying to change and get away from the subject as fast as he could, but Grian wasn’t going to push the matter. He knows what it’s like to feel like you’re not wanted by anyone and he knows that tommy will talk about it when he’s ready.

“ hey watch your mouth before I make ya eat a spider eye again” grian gets up “ but yah you’re probably right, it is getting late and I’d rather not lost all my stuff over 3000 blocks out.” He puts his hand on the larger boys shoulder and looks up at him “ you go ahead and take off and I’ll pack up what whatever we might of left”

Tommy looks back at the smaller man, he knows Grian isn’t stupid, but is thankful he is letting it slide for now. “ thanks grian.” He says softly, for once not feeling like he has to make his voice boom in order to be heard

Grian smiles back reassuringly, “ no problem kiddo, now go on get out of here” he says shooing tommy off as he takes flight heading towards the shopping district.

Grian stares at his shrinking figure and thinks. He doesn’t know what has happened to Tommy, but it’s obvious it’s was something painful enough to make him run away into the wilderness at such a young age. Grian picks up their remaining supplies before putting the shoker into in inventory. In any case, was was going to talk to the other hermits and organize a surprise birthday party for Tommy. He may not have any fond memories at the moment but grian would be dammed if he didn’t try to help the boy form new ones. Ones where he knows that he is apreacited. 

[weirwoodking]

I feel like that if Jon was a girl, she'd be hated so badly by the fandom for everything she was loved for as a male

Oh, yeah, of course. Jon (and the other male characters) gets away with feeling emotion in a way that none of the female characters do or would ever be able to do.

I was going to do this in a separate post, but your ask gave me the perfect opportunity to do it right here. I took the liberty of compiling a few Jon excerpts, and switched the name “Jon” to “Dany” and the male pronouns to female pronouns.

And then she heard the laughter, sharp and cruel as a whip, and the voice of Ser Alliser Thorne. "Not only a bastard, but a traitor's bastard," he was telling the men around him.

In the blink of an eye, Dany had vaulted onto the table, dagger in her hand. Pyp made a grab for her, but she wrenched her leg away, and then she was sprinting down the table and kicking the bowl from Ser Alliser's hand. Stew went flying everywhere, spattering the brothers. Thorne recoiled. People were shouting, but Dany did not hear them. She lunged at Ser Alliser's face with the dagger, slashing at those cold onyx eyes, but Sam threw himself between them and before Dany could get around him, Pyp was on her back clinging like a monkey, and Grenn was grabbing her arm while Toad wrenched the knife from her fingers.

—Jon VII, AGOT

Ser Alliser seized Dany by the arm.

Dany yanked away and grabbed the knight by the throat with such ferocity that she lifted him off the floor. She would have throttled him if the Eastwatch men had not pulled her off. Thorne staggered back, rubbing the marks Dany’s fingers had left on his neck. "You see for yourselves, brothers. The girl is a wildling."

—Jon IX, ASOS

In the end Halder and Horse had to pull her away from Iron Emmett, one man on either arm. The ranger sat on the ground dazed, his shield half in splinters, the visor of his helm knocked askew, and his sword six yards away. "Dany, enough," Halder was shouting, "he's down, you disarmed him. Enough!"

No. Not enough. Never enough. Dany let her sword drop. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Emmett, are you hurt?”

Iron Emmett pulled his battered helm off. "Was there some part of yield you could not comprehend?" It was said amiably, though. Emmett was an amiable man, and he loved the song of swords. "Warrior defend me," he groaned, "now I know how Qhorin Halfhand must have felt."

That was too much. Dany wrenched free of her friends and retreated to the armory, alone. Her ears were still ringing from the blow Emmett had dealt her. She sat on the bench and buried her head in her hands. Why am I so angry? she asked herself, but it was a stupid question. Lady of Dragonstone. I could be the Lady of Dragonstone. My father's heir.

—Jon XII, ASOS

“Men say that freezing to death is almost peaceful. Fire, though…do you see the candle, Gilly?”

She looked at the flame. “Yes.”

“Touch it. Put your hand over the flame.”

Her big brown eyes grew bigger still. She did not move.

“Do it.” Kill the girl. “Now.”

Trembling, the girl reached out her hand, held it well above the flickering candle flame.

“Down. Let it kiss you.”

Gilly lowered her hand. An inch. Another. When the flame licked her flesh, she snatched her hand back and began to sob.

“Fire is a cruel way to die. Dalla died to give this child life, but you have nourished him, cherished him. You saved your own boy from the ice. Now save hers from the fire.”

“They’ll burn my babe, then. The red woman. If she can’t have Dalla’s, she’ll burn mine.”

“Your son has no king’s blood. Melisandre gains nothing by giving him to the fire. Stannis wants the free folk to fight for him, he will not burn an innocent without good cause. Your boy will be safe. I will find a wet nurse for him and he’ll be raised here at Castle Black under my protection. He’ll learn to hunt and ride, to fight with sword and axe and bow. I’ll even see that he is taught to read and write.” Sam would like that. “And when he is old enough, he will learn the truth of who he is. He’ll be free to seek you out if that is what he wants.”

“You will make a crow of him.” She wiped at her tears with the back of a small pale hand. “I won’t. I won’t.”

Kill the girl, thought Dany. “You will. Else I promise you, the day that they burn Dalla’s boy, yours will die as well.”

“Die,” shrieked the Old Bear’s raven. “Die, die, die.”

The girl sat hunched and shrunken, staring at the candle flame, tears glistening in her eyes. Finally Dany said, “You have my leave to go. Do not speak of this, but see that you are ready to depart an hour before first light. My men will come for you.”

—Jon II, ADWD

“Lord Janos,” Dany said, “I will give you one last chance. Put down that spoon and get to the stables. I have had your horse saddled and bridled. It is a long, hard road to Greyguard.”

“Then you had best be on your way, girl.” Slynt laughed, dribbling porridge down his chest. “Greyguard’s a good place for the likes of you, I’m thinking. Well away from decent godly folk. The mark of the beast is on you.”

“You are refusing to obey my order?”

“You can stick your order up your arse,” said Slynt, his jowls quivering.

Alliser Thorne smiled a thin smile, his black eyes fixed on Dany. At another table, Godry the Giantslayer began to laugh.

“As you will.” Dany nodded to Iron Emmett. “Please take Lord Janos to the Wall—”

—and confine him to an ice cell, she might have said. A day or ten cramped up inside the ice would leave him shivering and feverish and begging for release, Dany did not doubt. And the moment he is out, he and Thorne will begin to plot again.

—and tie him to his horse, she might have said.

If Slynt did not wish to go to Greyguard as its commander, he could go as its cook. It will only be a matter of time until he deserts, then. And how many others will he take with him?

“—and hang him,” Dany finished.

Janos Slynt’s face went as white as milk. The spoon slipped from his fingers. Edd and Emmett crossed the room, their footsteps ringing on the stone floor. Bowen Marsh’s mouth opened and closed though no words came out. Ser Alliser Thorne reached for his sword hilt. Go on, Dany thought. Dark Sister was slung across her back. Show your steel. Give me cause to do the same.

[...]

“If the girl thinks that she can frighten me, she is mistaken,” they heard Lord Janos said. “She would not dare to hang me. Janos Slynt has friends, important friends, you’ll see…” The wind whipped away the rest of his words.

This is wrong, Dany thought. “Stop.”

Emmett turned back, frowning. “My lady?”

“I will not hang him,” said Dany. “Bring him here.”

“Oh, Seven save us,” he heard Bowen Marsh cry out.

The smile that Lord Janos Slynt smiled then had all the sweetness of rancid butter. Until Dany said, “Edd, fetch me a block,” and unsheathed Dark Sister.

By the time a suitable chopping block was found, Lord Janos had retreated into the winch cage, but Iron Emmett went in after him and dragged him out. “No,” Slynt cried, as Emmett half-shoved and half-pulled him across the yard. “Unhand me…you cannot…when Tywin Lannister hears of this, you will all rue—”

Emmett kicked his legs out from under him. Dolorous Edd planted a foot on his back to keep him on his knees as Emmett shoved the block beneath his head. “This will go easier if you stay still,” Daenerys promised him. “Move to avoid the cut, and you will still die, but your dying will be uglier. Stretch out your neck, my lord.” The pale morning sunlight ran up and down her blade as Dany clasped the hilt of the sword with both hands and raised it high. “If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them,” she said, expecting one last curse.

Janos Slynt twisted his neck around to stare up at her. “Please, my lady. Mercy. I’ll…I’ll go, I will, I…”

No, thought Dany. You closed that door. Dark Sister descended.

—Jon II, ADWD

And, of course, let’s not forget about this line:

"Well, he will not want it said that Stannis rode to the defense of the realm whilst King Tommen was playing with his toys. That would bring scorn down upon House Lannister."

"It's death and destruction I want to bring down upon House Lannister, not scorn."

—Jon II, ADWD

If these scenes had been Dany’s, she would have been called a power-crazed mad bitch who’s destined to be the villain of the series. And... people still do that anyway, even though none of her scenes come close to these Jon ones. And no, this does not mean Jon is going to go mad, of course it doesn’t. I love these Jon scenes, and I think that his bursts of anger and emotion are valid and understandable. It just shows how men/boys are allowed to act in ways that would never be possible for women/girls to behave without massive, massive misogynistic interpretations and critique.

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Welcome Home | Chapter Ten: Still Breathing

Finally—finally—, the day comes to rescue Sean. You honestly don’t know what to expect. Most of the others in camp aren’t much help, referring to Sean with a roll of their eyes and something along the lines of: “half a mind to let the bounty hunters keep him.”

They should be saying that about Micah, you think to yourself as you watch Charles and Arthur saddle their horses. Maybe then Dutch’ll kick him out.

Still, Sean is a bit of a wildcard to you. You won’t figure out what he’s really like until you meet him, and until then, you decide to keep an open mind. Worst case scenario? He’s Micah’s long-lost brother. Best case scenario? He’s… well. Maybe it’s best not to think about all the things he could be. Keep yourself on your toes.

You sit on a tree stump while the boys get ready. Taima is an absolute beauty of a horse, and you can tell by the way Charles dotes on her that she’s got a good life. Briefly, thoughts of having a horse of your own cross your mind. That appaloosa gelding is probably still for sale in Valentine. Maybe if you can get enough money, you can buy him.

Arthur and Charles take their sweet time packing more than enough ammo, which means you quickly get bored. Every scratchy detail on the tree stump bothers you, too. Hopping to your feet, you decide to get some chores done. Everyone’s been so preoccupied with the big upcoming rescue, they’ve neglected some of the finer details in camp.

The ax is in its usual spot, surrounded by whole logs that need to be chopped. You grab ahold of the handle. It feels lighter than it used to, and you realize you’re getting stronger.

Goodbye noodle arms, you think as you bring the ax down on to the first log. You don’t quite split it, but it’s getting closer than ever. And hello Jack Lumber.

A few chops in, you feel the muscles in the back of your neck tense. Someone’s behind you, and you’re not quite sure who. But soon enough, a low, sinister chuckle reaches your ears. Micah.

“Well,” he says. “Looks like the camp nuisance is finally doing some work.”

You slowly count to three before turning around. Micah stands by you, a little too close for your liking, and he’s got a smirk on his face that twists your gut something awful. You’ve started wearing a gun belt, and the hand that isn’t holding the ax inadvertently twitches toward your revolver.

“You know something, Y/N?” He takes a step toward you. “I think you’re starting to wear out your welcome.”

Fire ignites in your chest. No. No. Micah doesn’t get to do this, try and make you second-guess yourself and your place in the gang—especially not after you’ve just started feeling comfortable.

“Back off, you useless mineral,” you hiss.

Micah’s lips curl into a snarl as he takes another step toward you. This one feels infinitely more threatening, and you barely keep yourself from taking a step back. You’ll be damned if Micah wins this fight.

“Take another step,” you warn, “and I’ll jump rope with your intestines.”

Honestly, you don’t really expect him to feel threatened, but the odd choice in words is enough to throw him off. You can see him trying to process everything you said, which gives you enough time to throw the ax down and skedaddle.

Your heart thuds frantically in your chest as you hurry to Arthur and Charles. Micah won’t try anything if you’re with them; that much, you know for sure.

“We ready to go?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can. “If I chop one more piece of wood, I’ll have to start wearing flannel.”

Charles looks confused at “flannel,” but Arthur frowns as he glances over at the chopping block. His expression hardens when he sees Micah storming away.

“Micah giving you trouble?” He asks, a hint of something dangerous in his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You go to lean against the hitching post, miss, and almost topple over. Face burning, you settle for folding your arms over your chest.

Arthur and Charles exchange looks.

“If he tries anything,” Charles tells you, calm and steady, “let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

We’ll take care of it. How a statement so simple and so general can sound that dangerous, you’ll never know. You wordlessly nod, not knowing how to respond.

Charles leaves, then, to go saddle Taima. You look to Arthur, ready to follow him to Florence, who’s already tacked up and ready. But he doesn’t move.

“Micah been buggin’ you a lot?”

You shake your head. “Not really. I mean, he gave me a hard time when I was cleaning up Pearson’s wagon a while ago, but Hosea scared him off.”

Arthur turns to look at you. “And today?”

“Oh.” You think back to the confrontation. “Well, he called me the ‘camp nuisance’ and said I was starting to wear out my welcome.”

A glint of fury flashes through Arthur’s eyes as he throws a glare in Micah’s general direction. You shiver involuntarily. Thank goodness you’re not on a certain cowboy’s bad side.

“I’ve been called worse, to be honest,” you say with a shrug, and smile slightly when Arthur looks at you again. “I’m kinda used to it.”

He gives you a troubled frown instead of sharing your nonchalance. Confused, you feel your smile waver a little.

“What?” You ask.

“You…” Arthur begins, trails off, then continues: “You know it ain’t true, right?”

“What isn’t?”

“The part about being a nuisance. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either.”

Something pulls at your heart, something strong, and you’re suddenly at a loss for words. You’ve had so many doors slammed in your face, so many people come and go, never staying, never even wanting to stay… And you couldn’t do anything but watch them leave.

“Oh,” is all you manage around a tight throat.

Arthur looks at you some more. His eyes are soft now, soft and full of what you think is understanding. He reaches out, maybe to put a hand on your shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it and instead motions for you to follow him. You trail a little behind as he walks toward Florence. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either. Did… did Arthur really mean that? Does that mean the rest of the gang, minus Micah, feels the same way? You can’t help but shake your head in wonder. You don’t think you’ll ever understand these people.

Once you catch up, Arthur easily swings himself on top of Florence, then hauls you into the saddle behind him. You’re starting to get used to horseback. Florence may be absolutely massive, but you don’t feel so unsteady anymore. In fact, you might actually like riding.

“We’re meeting up with Javier just outside of Blackwater,” Charles says as he brings Taima over. “Trelawney thinks the bounty hunters will bring Sean upriver.”

Arthur nods and sets a steady trot out of camp. “Good. We can probably cut ‘em off when they reach the border. I think there’s a canyon that’ll give us some decent cover.”

“Any luck, we’ll take them by surprise.” Charles urges Taima into a canter, which Florence matches. “How many do you think there’ll be?”

“For Sean?” Arthur laughs, and you try not to look too enamored. “Any pair of fools could handle him. But there’ll be a lot of ‘em, no doubt.”

Charles hums in thought, but doesn’t say anything else. Much of the ride passes in comfortable silence. Although you want to focus on admiring the scenery and marvel at the lack of, well, everything, you find yourself thinking about the upcoming fight. You may not know a lot about the past, but you’ve seen enough Westerns to know bounty hunters always put up a hell of a fight. That, and they always keep coming right when you think you’ve killed them all.

Your revolver suddenly feels heavy in its holster. You bite your lip, a little unsure. Yes, you’ve used it once at Six Point Cabin, and yes, you’ve managed to hit a few bottles, but those were honestly lucky shots. And neither of them were shooting back.

Bounty hunters, though? Different story. For as much bravado as you showed Dutch during his little tirade, you have to admit that you’re a little nervous. It’ll be your first real gunfight. You’ll have Arthur and Charles looking out for you, but you can’t help the anxiety knotting deep in your gut.

If I die, I die, you think. No going back now.

///

Conversation lags for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, after crossing a small river, you’re in what Arthur tells you is West Elizabeth. It looks… well, it looks like a perfect snapshot of a history textbook. Rolling hills and open land, bison… it’s absolutely stunning.

Off in the distance, you see two people looking over the edge of a cliff. You recognize Javier, but you don’t recognize the other man, with his mustache and mischievous eyes. He smiles when he sees Arthur and Charles, then peers at you curiously.

“And who might this be?” He asks as Arthur dismounts, leaving you alone atop Florence.

Your brain goes into a blue screen of death, and before you know what you’re doing, you say: “My name is an enigma and holds all the secrets of the universe.”

“That would be Y/N,” Arthur says, exasperated. He helps you down and grabs his rifle from the saddle. “Y/N, this is Josiah Trelawney.”

Trelawney bows with a flourish. “At your service, my dear.”

You instantly decide you like him. Waving hello to Javier, you approach the edge of the cliff, crouching low like everyone else.

“Sean?” Arthur asks as he looks down the scope of his rifle.

“I think he’s in that boat over there.” Javier gestures to a small vessel upriver. “Think they’re docking to take him further inland.”

Arthur turns the scope, then gives a hum of confirmation. “That’s him alright. Giving those bounty hunters hell.”

Trelawney nods and rises before mounting his horse. Setting a slow walk, he motions for everyone to follow him. Arthur helps you on to Florence, and then you’re off once more.

“If we do this right,” Trelawney says, “we can cut them off. Remember: we’re just innocent folk out for a ride on the trail. Let’s not draw their attention just yet.”

The five of you ride toward a canyon. Ahead, you can see the boat docked at the shore, along with several well-armed, intimidating bounty hunters standing guard. They don’t look like they’re in much of a mood to negotiate. In fact, they look ready to shoot on sight.

Everyone takes cover around the bend. Trelawney, odd man that he is, seems more preoccupied with his coat than the problem at hand.

“Now ain’t the time for a fashion statement,” Arthur drawls.

“Au contraire, my dear fellow,” Trelawney says with a smile. “Bounty hunters are even more gullible than hillbillies. I have to look the part if I’m going to make the proper distraction.”

Then, before any of you can say a word otherwise, Trelawney strides confidently toward the bounty hunters. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you just know he’s spinning a tale bigger than the Grizzlies. He waves his arms in a grandiose gesture. In another situation, you would have mistaken it for part of the act. But now, along with Arthur, Charles, and Javier, you recognize it for what it is: a signal.

Arthur fires a quick shot, striking one of the bounty hunters between the eyes. From there, it’s chaos. All you can hear is the sound of gunfire and shouting. You take cover behind a rock, firing your revolver without really trying to hit anything. You don’t know if any of your bullets find their marks. Honestly? Probably not.

“Let’s push up on ‘em,” Arthur commands.

You stick close by him as you make your way up the canyon. The bounty hunters have regrouped by now, which lets them put up more of a fight. A bullet whizzes by your ear—too close for you to ignore—and you yelp and duck further into cover.

Arthur quickly lays down some cover fire, then hauls you up and pulls you behind a larger rock. You don’t even have time to tell him thank you. The firefight picks up again, bullets flying, ricocheting, sometimes hitting their targets, sometimes hitting the canyon walls. It takes nearly all your self-control to keep a level head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Javier reloading his guns, but also just barely peeking out of cover. You look up the canyon trail. There, off in the distance, half-hidden by gun smoke and dust, you can just barely make out the silhouette of a bounty hunter—and he’s aiming right at Javier.

You steel yourself. You’re not some useless coward who needs to be protected. You’re a member of the Van Der Linde Gang—an outlaw. And one of your own is in danger.

Your anxiety flees, replaced by determination. Edging ever-so-slightly out of cover, you fire off a shot toward the bounty hunter, then duck back behind the boulder. A pained yell tells you that you hit your mark, and it’s followed by silence.

Javier looks at the fallen bounty hunter, then at you. He nods his head in thanks. Smiling, you tip your fingers in a mock-salute, then follow Arthur as he pushes further up the canyon.

It doesn’t take long for your little group to reach a clearing. Right away, you see someone dangling upside down from a tree. He’s also surrounded by vicious-looking men who you would honestly rather avoid.

Well,you think to yourself. That must be Sean.

The bounty hunters have been expecting you, and they fire several warning shots into the tree line. You duck behind the trunk of a massive pine. To your right, you see Arthur considering the situation, trying to figure out the best approach. On your left, Javier and Charles wait on a signal. You don’t know what happened to Trelawney, but you think he’s alright.

“If we can get around them,” Arthur eventually says, “we can come at them from all sides.”

Javier grins. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Charles gives him a look. “Only the fish can shoot back.”

Arthur nods, then looks back toward the clearing. “Someone’s gotta get to Sean quick as they can. I got a feeling he’s gonna be bait.”

“I’ll do it,” you tell him. “There’s enough cover behind that tree he’s tied up in. I’ll be fine.”

For a long, long moment, Arthur looks uncertain. But when you give him a pleading look, silently begging him to let you prove yourself, he sighs and folds the cards.

“Alright,” he agrees. “Wait until you got a clear opening, then go for it.”

Everyone heads off in opposite directions, leaving you to prepare yourself for the sprint of the century. One by one, the boys shoot the bounty hunters, hitting each with impeccable aim. Then, almost before you’re ready, you spy the perfect opportunity.

Making a beeline for Sean, you dive behind the tree just as the bullets start flying again. You sit there for a few seconds, catching your breath. You can’t believe you’re still alive. All that time in open space, and not a single scratch on you.

“It’s over!” You hear one of the bounty hunters shout.

He sounds dangerously close to you. Peeking around the tree, you see him standing not a foot away, pointing his rifle at Sean.

Shit.

You duck back into hiding before you’re spotted. This is exactly what you didn’twant to happen, and it happened anyway. Wracking your brain for ideas, you look around for anything that could be of use.

Think think think think think think—

There’s a corpse not too far from you, and you spy a knife on its belt. Moving purely on instinct and adrenaline, you snatch it from its sheath, turn back to the bounty hunter, and shove it through his throat right in the middle of his next sentence. He stays on his feet for maybe a second longer, then collapses.

You slowly back away from him. Dimly, you realize that the fire fight is over, that everyone else is okay, but you can’t bring yourself to focus on that. All you can do is stare at the body on the ground… the man you just killed.

“You alright there, friend?” Sean asks, still upside down.

“Uh,” your voice sounds far away to your own ears, “yeah. I’m fine.”

After that, you have maybe five seconds before your stomach lurches. Doubling over, you heave violently for a while before coughing, spitting out the taste in your mouth, and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“Hiya Sean. I’m Y/N.”

//

Accompanying Music: Still Breathing | Green Day

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