#Debt reconciliation

[otherworldlyinfo]

WallyGPT: The Growth of Wally and Revolutionizing Personal Finance

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[annemarieyeretzian]

dorian seeing orym down and panicking, freezing up; dorian seeing orym surrounded by enemies; dorian feeling it’s cowardly “but I have to;” dorian taking orym by the hand, casting dimension door and getting orym to safety; dorian getting orym to safety and then going back into the fight 🩵💚

[llycaons]

postcanon jc being miserable and lonely is genuinely tragic due to the circumstances and all but NOTHING is funnier than people trying to make me feel bad for him. 'ohh poor jc is so lonely and misses his brother so bad he just wants to be a family again' well jc tried to kill his brother after he returned from his death by suicide, tortured him, mocked him, humiliated him, blamed him for the deaths of their family members, and physically attacked him more than once so I'm actually not losing sleep over the fact that his brother is choosing to spend time with someone who supports and takes care of him and respects him instead. you made this bed you lie in it. lmao

[fursasaida]

This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:

Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:

Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.

[...]

Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.

But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”

What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.

The article goes on to discuss:

"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion

A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"

The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance

Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels

And finally, in closing:

The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]

He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”

[thinkingonscripture]

Jesus' Substitutionary Atonement in Salvation

Atonement is a very important concept in the Bible. In the OT, the word atonement translates the Hebrew verb kaphar (כָּפַר) which means to “cover over, pacify, propitiate, [or] atone for sin.”[1] Theologically, it means “to bring together in mutual agreement, with the added idea, in theology, of reconciliation through the vicarious suffering of one on behalf of another.”[2] The animal…

[deweybertolini]

Words Mean Things

They say that “a picture is worth a thousand words.” But as you are about to hear in this PODCAST, one word can be worth a thousand pictures. Thank you for listening, and for sharing this message!!! Please remember that depending upon your web browser and connection speed, it may take up to 60 seconds for this podcast to begin to play. God bless you richly as you listen.

[astrocafecoffee]

•Healing through marriage (Based on Groom pc) •

✨For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

☞ Masterlist

☞solar return observation

☞Groom pc obs. Part 1

☞Groom pc obs. Part 2

•. •. •. •.(☉｡☉)•. •. •. •.

🌹What to check?

- check your Chiron in your groom persona chart , where it falls in.

🌹Why Chiron?

- Chiron is associated with our deepest wounds and our capacity for recovery . In your groom pc ,it can show how you fs will heal your inner child/ your trauma through marriage.

Let's go ~

❤️ Chiron in 1st house : Your fs may heal you through unconditional acceptance. They may love and accept you for who you are, flaws and all, helping you overcome self-doubt and low self-esteem. They could provide a safe space for you to express your emotions, validating your feelings and helping you process past wounds.Their empathetic nature may help you feel understood and supported, especially during difficult times.

❤️ Chiron in 2nd house: your future spouse may help you overcome financial struggles, debts, or insecurities, teaching you healthy financial habits and empowering you to achieve stability. Their presence in your life could help you recognize your inherent value and worth, transcending material possessions or external validation. They might empower you to take charge of your financial life, making informed decisions and breaking free from dependency or fear.

❤️ Chiron in 3rd house: your future spouse may help you express yourself more clearly and confidently, fostering open and honest communication in your relationship. Their influence could help you quiet your mind, reducing mental chatter and increasing focus, allowing you to tap into your inner wisdom. They might teach you to recognize and manage your emotions, developing emotional intelligence and empathy.

❤️ Chiron in 4th house:your future spouse may help you resolve unresolved issues with your family, fostering understanding, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Their presence could help you build a strong emotional foundation, providing a sense of security and stability.Chiron in the 4th house can indicate wounds from childhood; your partner may help you heal and integrate your inner child.

❤️ Chiron in 5th house:your future spouse may help you overcome creative blocks or insecurities, fostering self-expression and artistic growth.Chiron in the 5th house can indicate a need to reconnect with childhood joy and creativity; your partner may help you recapture that spark. They might help you heal from past relationship wounds, teaching you to love yourself and others in a healthy, empowering way.

❤️ Chiron in the 6th house : Your future spouse's influence could help you establish a sense of structure and organization in your daily life, making you more efficient and productive. Chiron in the 6th house can indicate a need to integrate your mind and body; your partner may help you develop a greater awareness of your physical and emotional needs. They might help you find a healthy balance between work and personal life, reducing stress and increasing overall well-being.

❤️ Chiron in the 7th house: Your future spouse might help you overcome past relationship traumas or wounds, teaching you to form healthy, empowering partnerships. Their influence could encourage you to examine your own role in relationships, taking responsibility for your actions and growth. With Chiron in the 7th house, they may help you find a balance between independence and interdependence, recognizing the value of both.

❤️ Chiron in the 8th house:Your future spouse may help you overcome fears or insecurities around intimacy and vulnerability, creating a safe space for deep connection.Their influence could guide you in exploring your shadow, acknowledging and integrating repressed aspects of yourself. With Chiron in the 8th house, they may facilitate transformative experiences through intimate connections, helping you rebirth and renew yourself.

❤️ Chiron in the 9th house : Chiron in the 9th house can indicate a need for continuous learning and growth; your partner may inspire you to pursue higher knowledge and wisdom.They may foster a sense of curiosity and wonder, inspiring you to ask questions and seek answers.Their presence could help you recognize the interconnectedness of all things, fostering a sense of oneness and unity with the universe.

❤️ Chiron in the 10th house: Your future spouse might help you discover your life purpose and passion, aligning your career with your soul's mission. Their influence could help you overcome self-doubt and imposter syndrome, recognizing your value and expertise.They might inspire you to redefine success on your own terms, prioritizing fulfillment and happiness over external validation.

❤️ Chiron in the 11th house:Chiron in the 11th house can indicate a need to embrace innovation and progress; your partner may encourage you to think outside the box and pioneer new ideas.They might help you expand your professional and social network, connecting you with like-minded individuals and opportunities.They may help you overcome feelings of isolation or disconnection, integrating you into a larger community.

❤️ Chiron in the 12th house : Chiron in the 12th house can indicate a need to confront and heal subconscious wounds; your partner may support you in this process.They might inspire you to develop greater compassion and empathy, understanding the struggles of others.Their influence could help you recognize and break free from self-sabotaging patterns, releasing limiting beliefs and behaviors.

-----------------✨------------------

Hope you enjoyed ❤️

- Piko ✨

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Mo Dao Zu Shi and Self-Yearning For Reconciliation

There is an overarching lesson within the writing of MXTX that forgiveness and moving on doesn't entail non-verbal consent for a relationship to be salvaged once more or reclaimed as it used to be.

Within SVSSS, we are given the character of Yue Qingyuan desperately seeking the friendship and brotherhood he had with Shen Jiu. Only for that relationship to be provided by another way of Shen Yuan who finalizes he is not the man Yue Qingyuan needed closure from, but is the only one able to give it for the man to find peace with his own choices.

To a lesser extent this is also shown with the relationship between Xie Lian, Mu Qing and Feng Xin at the end of TGCF. This time though, despite Xie Lian associating with them with no ill will, he does not let either man make choices for him and resoundingly makes his own boundaries aware within the reclamation of their friendship.

MDZS does not offer this reclamation of a friendship or the start of one previously lost with another. Unlike the previous two who did yearn for friendship what was between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian had been a stipulation of burden and assumption that started with Jiang Fengmian. Jiang Cheng was to see Wei Wuxian as a servant made friend when brought in, and Wei Wuxian was protector over friend. There was already a set imbalance due to neither naturally being able to choose the roles within their lives for the other and extending parties stating who and what they were to each other.

Jiang Cheng in his already tenuous esteem with himself and resentment of being told he was already viewed as less from his mother, took Wei Wuxian's existence in his life as a displacement of his own claims within life. His sacrifice of his dogs was the precursor for the beginning of their relationship on the allusion of debts between them.

Jiang Cheng gives up the loyalty of a literal pet, for the loyalty of an eventual man. In other words, I will shelter and protect you in exchange. Jiang Cheng does keep to this as children, with the expense of mocking Wei Wuxian's fears as he is want. His stipulations for this begun to escalate over the years and as such the giving of shelter and safety cannot be made up for Jiang Cheng, forever loyalty is now not enough, but why must Wei Wuxian also be adept at cultivation, why is he to be praised for his deeds more so, why must Wei Wuxian be a bright mind of the war.

If he is to be that, it at least would be overshadowed that he is still only under Jiang Cheng's rule. Otherwise every other action against this, is to demean Jiang Cheng, to oppose him, to cause trouble with ingratitude. It is also why, despite Wen Qing and Wen Ning having sheltered him and Wei Wuxian as well as collected his parents and provided their ashes, Jiang Cheng is able to disregard his obligation to help them. If not for Wei Wuxian's supposed insubordination, Jiang Cheng would not have suffered his own losses. Even when he did protect Wei Wuxian, the loss of it was too much, as with the dogs he had given up as a child, he did not get an active said promise of more dedication made up tenfold for the minimum kindness exhibited by Jiang Cheng. As said by Fang Mengcheng, "Atonement? You cannot actually be feeling grateful to him!”

To want to be good and to protect others, must come with selfish want for exemption of guilt for the harm you have caused. Wen Ning and Wen Qing owed it to Jiang Cheng for the deaths of his parents for carrying the surname of Wen, as such he did not need to repay them. Wei Wuxian sat at the table of the Jiangs and was given a living others would envy, as such he owed his life to Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian taking on the burden of protecter of another, was a betrayal of all that Jiang Cheng's lineage had gave him. To do the impossible because it is right, is not worth the self emulation and ridicule of the many. And while he may resent that kindness in Wei Wuxian, for it to be given to others as well, is a lack of loyalty of the ideals of Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng's growing resentment of Wei Wuxian's choice of kindness over safety, is a a mirrored resentment that Jiang Cheng holds within himself and his lack of respect for his own Clan ideals. A servant under the lord of the house embodies what Jiang Cheng was born to be.

As he throws abuse upon Wei Wuxian at their penultimate clash, while he does say sorry, he is still unable to view it without the veil of debt owed between each other. As Wei Wuxian could not tell him he gave him his core out of pity for his ego to keep him from shattering, Jiang Cheng could not say he protected Wei Wuxian out of a moment of kindness without care for the consequences until it expounded as his reality.

There is a self soothing mechanism, that opening up to truths will eventually mean a mending of what had been, or the beginning of something better. Yet this is only true when both are open to stand together as equals. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng began with obligation and ended with obligation. The obligation to give for doing, the obligation of sorry for redemption.The obligation of servitude for sacrifice.

To rebuild and start again is meant to be the closure of ill will and the understanding of boundaries that cannot be crossed now. Jiang Cheng can only do one but not the other. He chooses hate for his continued nature, even while he is adamantly protecting Jin Ling by the end. While Wei Wuxian knows that resentment is not something that will create true happiness and nurturing growth that people strive for.

Reconciliation is to come to terms with that which you lacked, and to be more, to be better. Jiang Cheng accepts his core nature of resentment which would not last next to the altruism that Wei Wuxian chooses more than once. Kindness and Resentment cannot coexist at the same time. To resent is to be cruel, to be happy is to be kind. Both men are too tired to understand the other, and why they choose to part as a peace offering, an understanding that they will never thrive with the other.

[agronzky]

⠀⠀⠀𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒. ♡

Below you’ll find five plots created inspired by the songs of the swedish group ABBA. These can be used in romantic plots, but also adapted for other types of narrative.

ONE OF US. ( 1981, The Visitors )

Muse a and muse b had a relationship for a few years, but broke up for having very opposite visions of life. Muse a is an artist, sees the world in color and dreams of knowing more about everything, being an enthusiast of all things creative and artistic. Meanwhile, muse b is a businessperson who comes from a traditional family and has always dreamed of becoming the best in their field and living a peaceful life. A few years after breaking up, they meet again, having achieved some of their dreams. Muse a is a recognized artist, travels the world and can live life according to their own wishes, while muse b has achieved a high position in a global company, is recognized and lectures on business and how to achieve objectives. However, they both feel there is something missing in their lives and cannot feel truly fulfilled. The reunion therefore causes mixed feelings, mainly fights about the past, about how muse a cried for months or how muse b felt too small and useless. But something inside them still shines through and maybe there's still a chance. Or will someone get hurt in this story once again?

WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE ME? ( 1976, Arrival )

In a charming seaside village lives muse a, a talented young violinist whose passion for music sets them apart from the rest. Cheerful as ever, their contagious joy and love of life has always attracted curious eyes, especially those of muse b, an introspective painter who finds beauty in the little things. Their lives take an unexpected turn when a summer festival is announced in the town, promising a talent contest. Muse a and muse b end up getting involved in the planning of the contest, causing them to suddenly grow closer and start spending a lot of time together, whether naturally or not. Because muse a is very authentic and distracted, they get into a lot of trouble to make the contest happen, which forces muse b out of their comfort zone. Feelings begin to emerge naturally, making them think "Why did it have to be me?" and deciding, unaware of the other's decision, to perform in the show as a way of expressing their feelings.

MONEY, MONEY, MONEY. ( 1976, Arrival )

In the busy alleys of a bustling city, muse a is trapped in a routine of debt and financial difficulties. Working tirelessly at a job that barely pays the bills, they dream of a life of luxury and comfort. In a twist of fate, muse a meets muse b, a charismatic businessperson who has always lived in a world where money has never been a problem. When they notice muse a's situation, muse b decides to hide their lifestyle for fear of being attracted to them for that reason alone. Muse a begins to get closer to muse b, having someone to talk to who seems to understand everything. However, muse b's lies start to cause a lot of confusion for both of them and they have to choose whether they really want muse a to live in a lie forever or to tell the truth.

LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME. ( 1980, Supertrouper )

In the picturesque setting of a coastal island lives muse a, a lonely sculptor whose heart was closed after a traumatic relationship. Everything changes when they meet muse b, a mysterious person who arrives on the island in search of a fresh start. As they grow closer, muse a discovers the painful secrets that muse b hides, making their time together a way to begin to heal past wounds. Discovering they've both been through toxic relationships and a series of betrayals, muse a and muse b contemplate the possibility of love no longer existing and have to deal with this situation. But when muse b's former partner turns up on the island looking for reconciliation, muse a realizes that their hearts are no longer closed to love. They're completely won over by muse b and will do whatever to have them.

WATERLOO. ( 1974, Waterloo )

Muse a is a determined and charismatic person who works as a tour guide in a historic town. Their lives change when they meet muse b, a charming and enigmatic historian. Their attraction is immediate, but they soon discover sharing a rivalry in the search for information about an ancient secret of the city. As muse a and muse b compete to unravel the centuries-old mystery in an almost real war of espionage and tactics, they discover how they'll need to combine the information they've collected individually if they really want to uncover the secret. As time goes by, they discover more in common than previously thought, find it much easier to work together and start to having a lot of fun with everything discovering more of the town and themselfs.

[lau219]

Enemies with Benefits

Part 21: (1 of 2)

Previous part here

I know I said that this chapter would be where we see some real vulnerability from Tommy, but I decided to split this chapter up. So here’s part 1 of 2. Part 2 coming very soon!

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Look, what’s done is done, Tommy,” Polly said as she stood near the window in Tommy’s office, resting against the sill as she looked at him from across the room. “He’s already here, Arthur’s already given him the money. So the question now is, how do we move forward?”

Still looking at Tommy, Polly raised her cigarette to her lips as she waited for him to respond.

Sitting in his desk chair, Tommy was faced in Polly’s general direction, but rather than looking at her, he was focusing on the wall just beyond her shoulder, trying to force himself to calm down. Everything that was happening causing the blood in his veins to boil and rush, and he wasn’t sure he was able to speak yet without yelling.

Arthur. Fucking Arthur. The fucking moron was absolutely brainless.

After all these years, after all the false claims and repeated broken promises, he still yearned for their father’s attention and affection, and fell for it every time when Arthur Sr. would weasel his way back into their lives temporarily. Arthur always hoped and believed that their father actually cared for his children and that a reconciliation was in the cards, and every time, those hopes were quickly dashed when their father would yet again disappear as soon as he got whatever it was he really needed, once again dropping any and all contact for God knew how long, until the next time he’d inevitably present himself again.

The last time it happened, it had left a larger than ever dent in the family’s bank account and had thrown Arthur into an incredibly deep depression, not to mention causing the reactivation of Tommy’s involvement in multiple less-than-legal deals and connections that he’d spent the previous two years slowly trying to remove himself from. Arthur had yet again helped their father use their name and money to cover his ass for debts he owed and promises he’d broken to others.

Tommy had sworn that as soon as the latest bout was resolved, he’d make it so that all this could never happen again. Once he’d found out Ada was pregnant, Tommy had immediately begun the process of moving them all to the States. No way was he going to let all this keep happening and for his nephew to be subjected to the same toxic shit they all had been subjected to. He was ready to finally operate cleanly and never have to deal with their father again. It was time for a new chapter, which is what he’d promised himself the very first day he’d made the final return home from service. And then he’d finally accomplished it, cutting the old ties and creating a new home base for them all here, making his mark in more legal ways and managing to keep his father away for the last four years.

But apparently, four years was the longest Arthur was able to remember what a piece of shit their father was before forgetting again, and when he had evidently reached out to Arthur two months ago, Arthur had all too eagerly responded.

Just as he’d told Tommy, Arthur Sr. originally claimed the reason for his visit was that he wanted to meet his grandson and also congratulate his sons on their success and see for himself all that they’d accomplished. But, unable to hide his own idiocy, Arthur had admitted to the family the other day that he’d given their father over ten thousand dollars to pay off multiple gambling debts he’d been unable to talk himself out of back in Birmingham. And these apparently were debts that had formidable payees, some of whom Tommy was all too familiar with from his own previous interactions with them. They all knew the success Tommy had made himself, and therefore had granted his father the permission to head to the U.S. to get them the money he owed.

Upon learning what Arthur had done, Tommy had immediately frozen his ability to access or use any of the family accounts, and he'd warned John that if a single additional cent went unaccounted for, he'd cut him off, too. Over the last few days, Arthur and Tommy hadn't spoken or seen each other, as Arthur had made himself scarce since the reaming Tommy had given him. And although he'd gotten what he needed, their father was still hanging around, having joined Arthur wherever the hell it was he'd slunk off to.

As he'd told Y/N, Tommy had planned on giving him a very harsh piece of his mind and then sending him packing the couple days after he'd arrived. However, they ended up having not seen each other again yet, and it made Tommy all the more angry and tense that he was still around and undoubtedly filling Arthur's head with more bullshit.

"Stop stewing over this and just let it go," Polly spoke again then, cutting into Tommy's thoughts. "It's only ten grand."

Now moving his eyes to Polly, Tommy finally spoke.

"You think I give a fuck about the money?" he asked rhetorically, his voice filled with anger. "It's the fucking fact that he's here, that he's just stirring the pot and filling Arthur's head with bullshit, and that he fucks with everyone every Goddamn time and none of you ever seem to fucking comprehend that he's a waste of fucking life!"

Tommy's voice had risen the longer he'd spoke, and he felt his blood boiling again. For fuck's sake, why did Polly never get angry about the right stuff?

"Besides you, Thomas, no one knows better than me what a piece of shit your father is," Polly said then, keeping her cool as she took another drag from her cigarette and looked back at him. "But you can't undo what Arthur's done, and despite your best efforts to control him, you'll have to put a tracking device on that idiot if you want to keep him from ever engaging with your father again. I accepted a long time ago that it's pointless — he's never gonna give up the perfect picture of Daddy being who he wants him to be."

Tommy gave a bitter scoff, turning back to his desk and lighting a cigarette before he then replied to Polly.

"Well, he's gonna give it up. Because when they finally get back here, that perfect picture is gonna be lit on fucking fire."

Part 21: (2 of 2)

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @betty21rose @febris-amatoria

@hannibellector @fairytale07 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo

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@judig92 @pkmonka @ladyvenera @karah-bear @k1ng-l3on

@ceirinen @peskybinders @fuseburner @shaddixlife @neonpurplestars89-blog

@garrison-girl-08 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @emotionalcadaver @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings

@darklydeliciousdesires @an-eclectic-of-mass-destruction @vervainandspritz @wonderlanddreamer @novashelby

@honeymoon8 @cardan-official @meadows5

[annemarieyeretzian]

dorian ‘compliments are my love language’ storm: “[orym is] a natural born leader.” “you look great!” “orym is my… very good friend!” “[orym’s outfit] sounds… fabulous.” “there is no one more capable or qualified than orym.” “I knew [orym] would be [safe.]” “I just like to see you happy.” “every step of the way, I’ve thought about you.” “you can’t protect everyone all the time. look at me. I’m here now. you don’t have to save everyone.” “I wouldn’t be here without you. and now I’m here with you.” “[orym] is dedicated to the cause.”

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

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

Chapter Sixty-Nine

“Do not think this means I forgive you for lying to me.”

After breaking their fast together following their coupling, Aemond brought Maera to peak again twice more. The minute they had finished eating, the one-eyed Prince removed both of their clothes completely before leading them to their shared bed.

He sat down, reclining back against the headboard before guiding Maera to straddle him, hands on her hips as he slowly lowered her onto his stiff cock. Aemond rocked her back and forth in a rolling motion, hitting her spongey spot just right with every movement, burying his head in her full chest as his breathing became heavier. She gripped onto his shoulders desperately, throwing her head back as she felt her climax slowly build, her arousal coating his cock and thighs with her release.

The second time she peaked was by Aemond once again feasting on her with his tongue, head between her rounded thighs as she lay back on their bed, lapping up their mixed essence with his skilful tongue as he coaxed her orgasm from her, like a starving man who had not known sustenance for an ungodly amount of time. After cumming again, Maera lay on her husband’s chest, a tangle of limbs and warmth in the soft glow of the morning light through the windows.

The Prince’s toned, slim torso pressed against Maera's curvaceous form. His muscular arms enveloped her, one hand gently stroking her hair as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. With his eyepatch removed, the sapphire nestled in the hollow of his eye socket gleamed in the soft daylight, casting a mesmerizing glow across his sharp-featured face. Maera's body was a canvas of curves, her skin bore the faint flush of their shared ecstasy, enhancing the natural beauty that radiated from her every feature. Her brown curls, tousled and wild, framed her face in a cascade of unruly elegance, the silver streak shimmering like a celestial thread woven into the fabric of her being.

Aemond met her gaze, the softening of his violet eye betraying a depth of emotion, though his face retained its stoic exterior. His fingers tenderly weaved their way through her locks as he spoke, "I respect you enough to never presume that forgiveness is easily earned."

Maera shifted her body to lay on her side, aligning herself to face him, prompting Aemond to mirror her movement. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding. She teased him with a playful sternness, "You are still paying back the debt for being an arse to me all those years ago."

A silent laugh escaped Aemond's lips, his affectionate gaze never leaving hers. "A debt I will no doubt be paying for until the end of my days," he acknowledged, reaching out to delicately move a strand of hair from her face.

Maera responded with a contemplative hum. Despite the intimacy they had shared, the specter of Aemond’s deception loomed large in her mind. Her heart, heavy with the weight of their shared history, yearned for reconciliation, for a restoration of the bond that had once held them fast. Yet, amidst the tender caress of his touch, the echo of Alys's presence lingered. The spells the witch had woven, binding Aemond and Maera together through dark sorcery, whispered like sinister echoes in the recesses of Maera's consciousness, their implications casting a pall of unease over her thoughts.

Anger smoldered within Maera, a seething fire fueled by the knowledge of Aemond's laying with Alys and the tragic consequences that had befallen her extended family. Betrayal gnawed at the edges of her resolve, a bitter taste lingering on her tongue as she grappled with the weight of Aemond's deceit.

Confusion gnawed at her soul, twisting and turning like a tempestuous sea, as she grappled with the conflicting emotions that warred within her, as well as questions she still longed to know the answer to. “If she knew we were fated to be bound, that our union had to happen… why did you treat me with such hostility the moment I returned seven months ago?”

Aemond’s expression softened, his gaze drifting as he searched for the right words. “I was angry, I suppose,” he admitted with a shrug, the admission heavy with the weight of his past actions. “Angry at our fractured friendship, and angry at the sense of inevitability Alys had painted about our future together. It felt like I had no control.”

Maera’s eyebrow arched in skepticism, prompting Aemond to offer further explanation. “I thought that by pushing you away, I could change the course of our lives. But as it turns out, you cannot change fate.”

She focussed on his words. Fate. Helaena also said fate could not be changed. Lady Gael in her dreams said fate was foretold by the Gods. Was everything truly written by the Seven and they were merely acting out their pre-conceived roles? Or could it be altered, even a fraction of an amount? Alys had told Aemond although fate could not be changed, it could be swayed.

Sensing her introspection, Aemond gently cupped her face in his hand, their eyes locked in a shared moment of vulnerability. "I never meant to hurt you, nor dishonor you in the eyes of the court," he confessed, his sincerity evident.

Maera frowned, her fingers tracing the jagged scar beneath his sapphire eye. "What's done is done," she murmured, a mixture of acceptance and resilience in her voice. After a moment of reflection, Maera spoke again, her tone measured. "It will take me some time to trust you again. You will need to accept that."

Aemond nodded, his gaze filled with understanding and a quiet determination to prove himself worthy. With a sigh, Maera's gaze wandered down to her swelling belly, her hand instinctively resting upon the curve of her abdomen. "As tempting as it may be to mount Ēbrion and escape from it all...I want this marriage to succeed."

Aemond's hand found hers on her stomach, a gesture, this time, that brought a sense of solace. Maera continued, her voice tinged with determination. "Not just for the child I carry, but for us as well. We exchanged vows before the Gods in the Sept. With House Targaryen divided and a war raging around us, our child needs parents who are..."

"Who are?" Aemond prodded gently, his curiosity evident.

Rolling her eyes playfully, Maera finished her thought with a stubborn resolve. "United."

Aemond chuckled softly, sinking back against his pillow with a wry smile. "That's not what you were going to say," he teased, his eye dancing with amusement.

Maera propped herself up on her elbow, her gaze fixed on Aemond as she prepared to speak her mind. “What did you expect me to say, husband? Some grand declaration of love or poetic verses about our supposed magical bond?” she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

Aemond's smirk only widened. “I would not necessarily oppose that,” he replied, his eye sparkling with amusement.

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Maera continued, her expression turning more serious. “My feelings about you at the moment are... complicated, to say the least. I doubt you would care to hear them,” she confessed, her tone tinged with uncertainty.

Aemond lifted his arm to rest behind his head, his features softening with a hint of seriousness. “I will gladly accept whatever feelings you have towards me, Maera. The good, the bad, the confusing ones too. Your words may burn, but I am a dragon. I can endure,” he assured her, his gaze unwavering.

Maera sighed, resigning herself to the conversation ahead. “You speak of burning, but you forget the wreckage you have left in your wake. My heart has been shattered by you more times than I can count,” she began. Maera glanced at him from the corner of her eye and could see he was listening intently. She continued, “We were children of nine when we first met, and I believed we shared a bond unlike any other. But that bond was shattered when you claimed Vhagar, leaving me to pick up the pieces of our broken friendship.”

Her words continued to flow with an undercurrent of emotion, her hands gesturing animatedly as she sought to convey the depth of her anguish to her husband. “Then I return for Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, hoping for reconciliation, and you treated me with disdain, as if I were beneath you.” Aemond listened in silence, his single violet eye fixed unwaveringly on her face. His expression was a mask of solemnity, his features drawn tight with the weight of her words.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, her green eyes fixed on a point in the distance as she gathered her thoughts, the weight of her memories pressing heavily upon her. “Yet, despite your cruelty, I found myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, only to be burned time and time again.”

Maera then balled up the sheet covering her body within her fist, gripping it intensely as her anger spilled over. “You entertained the notion of witch’s prophecies, foolish enough to give a woman who practices dark magic your blood and seed. And now my aunt Viserra, my last link to my mother, and her kin, are gone. Sacrificed at your hand, all to bind me to you, to ensure that I am yours and yours alone.”

She shook her head in disbelief, realising how absolutely preposterous this sounded, each chaotic event painting a sad and broken picture of her life with Aemond in it. “You chased away suitors, denied me happiness outside of your grasp, refusing to let me have anything that did not involve you. And now, with the revelation of your manipulations, I question whether my feelings for you are genuine or merely a product of your meddling.”

Maera’s eyes began to water at this. She was afraid, afraid that none of this was real. Aemond’s hand wandered to touch her arm lovingly, a silent affirmation of his attentiveness and empathy, a glimmer of understanding flashing across his face. With each hesitant breath, Maera spoke her next words with brutal honesty, staring him down as tears began to flow freely. “You are cruel, Aemond. And arrogant. And selfish.” Throughout her words, Aemond remained silent, his expression unreadable as he absorbed her criticisms. There was no trace of hurt in his features, but rather a contemplative expression that hinted at deep introspection.

Maera sighed once more, her frustration momentarily abated. “But you are more than that.” She reached across and traced his contoured jawline with her finger, using a feather light touch. “More than your Targaryen blood. More than a dragon rider. More than the second son.” Her head leant down as she traced his jawline with her lips, the satisfying sound of a groan catching in the Prince’s throat. “More than your duty. More than the expectations of the Realm or your family. More than your past choices.”

Closing her eyes, she ghosted her lips across his, hesitant for the next words to leave her mouth. But they were true, and they were needed in this moment, more for herself than for him. A reminder and vow as to why she was with him of her own volition instead of just a political alliance or the spell cast by a witch.

“Ao issi ñuhon,” You are mine, Maera whispered against him, feeling him shift next to her, and his neck crane upwards, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. “Sepār avy jorrāelan.” And of course I love you.

Aemond’s sighed deeply at her words of devotion to him. Yet as he leaned in for a kiss, she pulled back, a coy smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she stood from their bed, slipped into her robe and rang for her servants.

“But you still have much to atone for, my Prince,” she warned him with a smirk, chuckling to herself as she took in his wide-eyed expression. In that fleeting moment of hesitation, she asserted her independence and agency, a reminder to Aemond that her love was freely given and not to be taken for granted.

And ‘atone’ he most certainly did. For a month, he toiled in her service in order to win back her affections, unknown to other members of the court. The gestures started off small. Instead of retreating to the Tower of the Hand to work alone, he now made a conscious effort to complete his paperwork at Maera’s side, sending for her to join him or setting up his writing desk in their shared chambers.

He sought to express his love and devotion through lavish gifts, each carefully selected to reflect Maera’s diverse interests and passions. Uncensored scrolls from the Citadel offered her unrestricted access to knowledge and information, while new paints from YiTi promised to enrich her artistic pursuits. And when it came to her weapons, Aemond spared no expense, adorning her old dagger with sapphires and emeralds that sparkled in the candlelight, as well as a fresh polish to the metal of the blade.

Aside from these, the Prince also helped the dragon keepers in the design of Ēbrion’s saddle, fit to be used by Maera as a rider. The saddle, fashioned after the design of Vhagar's legendary equipment, was a formidable sight to behold. Crafted from black leather and adorned with intricate chains and ropes, it exuded an air of strength and resilience. The chest harness provided a sturdy foundation for the saddle, while reins attached to the saddle allowed for precise control over the beast's movements.

As the dragon keepers worked tirelessly to fit Ēbrion with the new creation, Maera stood watchful by his side, a calming presence amidst the chaos. Although she was reassured by the Vovnik that the beast would not feel a thing due his tough hide of scales, Maera still winced at the sound of the saddle being bolted onto her dragon’s chest and back. Yet she remained poised and vigilant, soothing Ēbrion with gentle words and comforting touches.

Aemond stood at a distance, watching the proceedings with a mix of admiration and longing. He understood that the beast’s fierce nature required delicate handling, especially in the midst of such significant changes. Maera had explained that since Aemond still evoked some negative feelings, she did not want this to be transferred to her mount, which could possibly result in the death of more Keepers or even her own husband. And as much as he still angered her, she did not wish true harm to befall him.

During his month of atonement, Maera kept the Prince at arm’s length. Although she was grateful for the gifts and his newfound attention, she was still hurt, and had not invited Aemond back to her bed since the day she rode Ēbrion. And the Prince had not presumed to join her, which Maera found oddly admirable, her resolve began to soften as the nights grew colder and lonelier. After a week of restless sleep and silent longing, she finally relented and allowed him back into their shared bed.

That night, and each night after, Maera couldn't deny the comfort of Aemond's warmth beside her. She curled up against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Aemond would wrap his arms around her, pulling her close in a protective embrace. In the darkness of their chamber, they found a sense of peace in each other's arms, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.

Most mornings, she was now awoken to Aemond indulging himself between her legs, calloused hands stroking up and down her soft thighs as he feasted on her, his violet eye shut with bliss. When she was awake enough to realise what was happening, Maera hands would immediately fly to his hair, grabbing onto fistfuls of the silver locks for dear life as pleasure coursed through her very soul, now so much more intense as she entered the second part of her pregnancy.

With each gesture, Aemond hoped to demonstrate his unwavering commitment to Maera, to show her that he was willing to go to great lengths to earn back her trust and affection. And as the days turned into weeks, Maera couldn’t help but be moved by his sincerity, gradually allowing herself to soften in his presence, to once again find solace in the embrace of the man she loved. She had not forgiven, nor forgotten, but the sting of his transgression hurt a lot less than before.

On a windy day during the fourth month of the year, Aemond and Maera worked tirelessly in their shared chambers at their own pursuits. As the storm raged outside, the sky was a canvas of gray clouds, swirling with the promise of heavy rain. Leaves, tinged with the fiery hues of autumn, danced on the wind before being swept away by the downpour. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, a reminder of the changing season.

Inside, Maera sat at her easel, her paintbrush moving with fluid strokes across the canvas. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls as she carefully crafted a new painting, another to add to the growing pile in her room. This one was destined for the nursery of their unborn child. Her brushstrokes were deliberate and precise, capturing the essence of a tranquil night sky.

In the painting, a full moon hung low on the horizon, casting a soft glow over the landscape below. Against the backdrop of stars, nine dragon silhouettes soared gracefully, each representing a member of House Targaryen connected to the new babe. Maera meticulously painted each dragon, infusing them with life and vitality despite their stark black outlines. Two larger dragons, one representing Maera and the other Aemond, stood as parents guarding the night sky. Surrounding them were the dragons of Helaena, Aegon, and Daeron, the aunt and uncles. Two smaller silhouettes represented the child's cousins, Jaehaera and Maelor.

A subtle, keen eye could discern two faint, almost imperceptible silhouettes. One symbolized Lady Gael, Maera's late mother, a spectral presence in the family's celestial tableau. The other, a smaller dragon, paid homage to Prince Jaehaerys, a reminder of the family's tragic loss. Lastly, a particularly radiant star stood out among the rest, symbolizing Maela, Helaena's lost babe, whose memory shone brightly in the night sky.

Softening the lines of the faded silhouettes with a damp sponge, a low hum from Aemond distracted Maera from her work. She turned at him and cocked her head to the side, curious as to what was on his mind. The Prince did not even have to look up from his writing to know the green eyes of his wife were on him.

“It seems that twat in the cells finally succumbed to his torture,” Aemond grumbled, causing Maera to frown, not understanding to whom he was referring. From her lack of reply, Aemond looked up, his brows furrowed. “Blood.”

The butcher. One of the men who had slain Jaehaerys. The one who had been caught at the Gate of the Gods two days later. And who had been under torture in the dungeons ever since. Maera clenched her jaw at the thought of such a monster.

“Death was too good for him,” she replied coldly, before turning her attention back to her painting, softening the edges around the dragon that represented Jaehaerys. “Did he reveal anything useful?”

“Yes, actually. It turns out he was working for one of my uncle’s favourite whores. And that he was asked to bring Jaehaerys’ head back to Dragonstone as a prize for Daemon,” Aemond answered, his words causing Maera to tense. He continued on, “Towards his end, he gave up the names of other spies in Kings Landing, probably some feeble attempt to keep himself alive. So now I am tasked with signing their death warrants.”

Maera let out a shaky breath. “Anyone we know?”

“No one important, just a few guards. But they have patrolled our corridors, stood watch outside our doors,” Aemond sneered, noticing that Maera had now frozen at her easel. She heard his chair scrape along the stone floor as he rose from his seat, striding towards her before wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her. He placed a chaste kiss on her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder, his single violet eye looking at the masterpiece of a painting his wife was producing for their child.

Maera’s gaze lingered on the painting, her thoughts drifting to the uncertainties of their future amidst the looming threat of war. How many more dragons would be reduced to faded silhouettes if their enemies continued to plot against them? The spies lurking within their midst, their presence only now coming to light, cast a shadow of fear over the once secure halls of their home. The prospect of further losses weighed heavily on Maera’s mind, each potential death a painful reminder of the fragility of their house and the dangers that surrounded them.

“We are not safe here. None of us are,” Maera whispered, as if not wanting to breathe life into the fact she knew well. She turned to Aemond, her eyes filled with concern.

His gaze softened. “Come the morrow, those traitors will lack heads,” the Prince proclaimed with reassurance in his voice.

Before Maera could respond, Aemond lifted his hand and revealed a piece of parchment, addressed to her, bearing the seal of House Baratheon, a sight that sparked intrigue within Maera’s curious nature. Eager to uncover its contents, she reached out to snatch the parchment, only to find Aemond teasingly withholding it from her grasp. With a playful pout, Maera’s annoyance was evident, but Aemond relented, allowing her to claim the letter with a mischievous shove in return.

Breaking the wax seal, Maera’s eyes scanned the contents of the letter with keen interest, a smile gracing her face as she immediately recognised the handwriting.

“It’s from Luthor,” Maera beamed, before quickly scanning the words.

Dearest sister (Or should I refer to you as Princess in our correspondence now? Royalty or not, we still threw food at each other at the dining table not that long ago),

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. Father recently shared the joyful news of your pregnancy with me, and I couldn't be happier to hear that I will soon be an uncle again. I do hope for both your sakes that the new babe is just like your husband, even though I do not know what he was like as a small child. Memories of your mischievous nature and the mere size of you when you were born is enough to put anyone off having more than one child.

Maera’s chuckling caught Aemond’s attention, his single violet eye looking in her direction as he settled back onto his writing desk.

“He says he hopes our baby is more like you than me,” she chortled, the thought of their child filling her with joy. “Apparently I was quite large when I was born, and a difficult child as well.”

“You being described as a handful stuns me,” Aemond replied sarcastically with a smirk, picking up his quill and commencing his writing once again.

Maera rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Tis just as well you are not a jester or we would all be bored of your unfunny material,” she teased before turning her attention back to the letter.

In other news, I am pleased to inform you that I am now wed to Lady Cassandra, the eldest daughter of Lord Borros Baratheon. Our wedding coincided with that of Prince Daeron and Lady Ellyn Baratheon, and I must say, the poor prince seemed quite terrified. I did my best to offer him comfort amidst the festivities. Thank the Gods for whatever the Maester gave him to perform in the bedding ceremony, lest I do not think this would have been completed otherwise. Unfortunately for his new bride, the Prince returned to his duties and flew back to the Reach after bedding her, with the promise to return in a few weeks time.

“My brother is wed, as is yours. And Daeron was able to fulfil his duty, the poor boy,” Maera announced to her husband, a pang of sympathy for the youngest Targaryen Prince in her voice. Aemond simply hummed in response as he continued writing his documents. She read on.

Of course, I had no qualms fulfilling my duty and bedding my new wife. (I will spare you the details. Hearing snippets of what happened on your own wedding night was enough to make my skin crawl, and I shan’t wish that on you in your current condition.) The Baratheon girl seems pleasant enough and I find myself still getting to know her. Lady Cassandra possesses the typical Baratheon traits of black hair and striking blue eyes, and I must admit, I am surprisingly eager to earn her approval. A simple laugh at one of my jokes during dinner felt more rewarding than winning any sparring match.

Father is adamant about the importance of fathering an heir, as a male child could potentially inherit Storm's End. Yet, I fear his ambitions may overwhelm my new bride. I tread cautiously, not wanting to frighten her away. I will fulfil my duty, yes, but I will not pressure nor force the Lady to bear me a child in such haste.

A sad smile graced Maera’s face. Happiness was such a rare thing in political marriages. But Luthor was trying and, for this, she felt proud of her elder brother. Maera was not surprised of her father’s pressuring agenda yet it did not stop her from feeling irritated. Every Lord that steps foot into the Red Keep is so full of self-interest in an attempt to get close to, or even sit upon, the Iron Throne. She could not understand why Lord Jasper would push his children so hard just to have his blood be apart of the tapestry that made up the great Houses of Westeros.

Maera understood Aemond’s desire for the throne. He had worked so hard throughout his life, only for it to be given to his oaf of brother, simply because Aegon was born first. Yet as stupid and ill-equipped as her brother-in-law was, she was glad it would not be a burden that would be passed onto her own children. That ugly metal chair brought nothing but chaos and destruction to those who sat on it.

The specter of war looms large, and I worry for your safety in King's Landing, especially given your marriage to the King's brother. I'm uncertain if the Crownlands will prove a safe haven for your growing family. Please know that even though I am far away, I am always here for you. If there is anything I can do to assist or support you, do not hesitate to ask.

Your brother,

Luthor

With a sigh, Maera folded the letter over and joined Aemond at the writing desk. Anxiety swarmed around her about the safety of her family, as well as her wards, the youngest whom would be the next King of the Seven Kingdoms after Aegon. All the while, spies for the Blacks loomed about the Keep, their identities just now coming to light. And given how easily Blood and Cheese had entered and murdered Jaehaerys, who is to say it would not happen again?

The Prince stopped writing, looking up at his wife to see concern painted across her face.

“What is wrong?” He questioned, clearly confused by her sudden dip in mood.

“Luthor is right,” Maera confessed defeatedly. “We are sitting ducks here in Kings Landing. The Blacks will come for us.”

Aemond placed his quill back in its pot of ink to reach across for Maera’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly as she spoke on. “Whilst I can justify the adults being caught in the crossfire, it is not fair on the children. Our child may nestle in the safe confines of my womb, but Jaehaera and Maelor are more exposed.”

The Prince sighed thoughtfully and nodded. “What do you suggest?”

After a moment of hesitation, Maera finally came to a conclusion. “The children need to be in a place of safety. Outside of Kings Landing.”

Notes: Let’s be honest, this chapter was a filler, which is why I was struggling to finish it. What finally got me to post it was the reminder that in these chapters there’s still key information in these chapters that will be important later on.

Tags: @abecerra611 @0eessirk8 @blue-serendipity @shesjustanothergeek @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[danmei-confessions]

I don’t think Jiang cheng and Wei Wuxian need a reconciliation. Their relationship has always been and always will be a toxic cycle of wwx doing something for the benefit of jc, their relationship might have been “brotherly” at times but they weren’t brothers. From the beginning, after sneaking out cause jc yelled at wwx who later fell out of a tree and broke his leg, which upset jc because he thought jfm would be upset with him—wwx took the blame. Wwx gave his core out of debt/gratitude not out of love (his reasoning for why jc needed it was because jc was going to be sect leader) . Jc needs to learn to take accountability for his actions and emotions without inflicting it on others like his mother did. For 13 years even with wwx dead, he sought to whip out his soul of who he assumed wwx had possessed. He’s crazed and obsessed and wwx deserves better and has better living with his husband . Without jc in his life .

.

[reasonsforhope]

Non-paywall version here.

"When Arley Gill, head of Grenada’s National Reparations Committee, envisioned his work seeking repair for centuries of enslavement on the Caribbean island, one thing was certain: It was going to be a long slog.

But just two years since its founding, the task force is fielding calls from individuals around the world looking to make amends for ancestors who benefited from enslavement in Grenada. 

“If you had told us this would be happening, we wouldn’t have believed you,” Mr. Gill says, crediting a burgeoning movement of descendants of enslavers getting wise to their family’s history and taking action. 

In Grenada’s case, the momentum began with a public apology made by former BBC journalist Laura Trevelyan and her family in February at a ceremony on the island. They apologized for their forebears’ enslavement of people in Grenada and their enrichment from it, pledging an initial contribution of £100,000 ($130,000) toward education on the island.

“She opened the doors for people to feel comfortable” coming forward, says Mr. Gill.

In April [2023], Ms. Trevelyan and journalist Alex Renton co-founded an organization called Heirs of Slavery. Its eight British members have ancestors who benefited financially from slavery in various ways...

Heirs of Slavery says wealth and privilege trickle down through generations, and that there are possibly millions of Britons whose lives were touched by money generated from enslavement. 

The group aims to amplify the voices of those already calling for reparations, like Caribbean governments. And it supports organizations working to tackle the modern-day consequences of slavery, both in the United Kingdom and abroad, from racism to health care inequities. But it’s also setting an example for others, drafting a road map of reparative justice for enslavement – at the individual level...

“Shining a light is always a good idea,” says Mr. Renton, who published a book in 2021 about his family’s ties to slavery, donating the proceeds to a handful of nongovernmental organizations in the Caribbean and England. “You don’t have to feel guilt about it; you can’t change the past,” he says, paraphrasing Sir Geoff Palmer, a Scottish Jamaican scholar. “But we should feel ashamed that up to this point we’ve done nothing about the consequences” of slavery.

Start anywhere

Most Africans trafficked to the Americas and Caribbean during the trans-Atlantic slave trade ended up in the West Indies. The wealth generated there through unpaid, brutal, forced labor funded much of Europe’s Industrial Revolution and bolstered churches, banks, and educational institutions. When slavery was abolished in British territories in 1833, the government took out a loan to compensate enslavers for their lost “property.” The government only finished paying off that debt in 2015. 

The family of David Lascelles, the 8th Earl of Harewood, for example, received more than £26,000 from the British government after abolition in compensation for nearly 1,300 lives, while “the enslaved people were given nothing,” Mr. Lascelles says. He joined Heirs of Slavery upon its founding, eager to collaborate with peers doing work he’s been focused on for decades.

“People like us have, historically, kept quiet about what our ancestors did. We believe the time has come to face up to what happened, to acknowledge the ongoing repercussions of this human tragedy, and support the existing movements to discuss repair and reconciliation,” reads the group’s webpage.

For Ms. Trevelyan, that meant a very public apology – and resigning from journalism to dedicate herself to activism...

For Mr. Lascelles, a second cousin of King Charles, making repairs included in 2014 handing over digitized copies of slavery-related documents discovered in the basement of the Downton Abbey-esque Harewood House to the National Archives in Barbados, where much of his family’s wealth originated during enslavement. 

“What can we do that is actually useful and wanted – not to solve our own conscience?” he says he asks himself...

“Listen and learn”

...The group is planning a conference this fall that will bring together families that benefited from the trans-Atlantic slave trade along with representatives from Caribbean governments and Black Europeans advocating for reparations. In the meantime, members are meeting with local advocacy groups to better understand what they want – and how Heirs of Slavery might assist.

At a recent meeting, “there was one man who said he wanted to hear what we had to say, but said he saw us as a distraction. And I understand that,” says Mr. Renton. “Maximum humility is necessary on our part. We are here to listen and learn, not try to take the lead and be the boss.”

Mr. Renton’s family has made donations to youth development and educational organizations, but he doesn’t see it as compensation. “I see this as work of repair. If I sold everything I own, I couldn’t begin to compensate for the lives my ancestors destroyed,” he says."

-via The Christian Science Monitor, August 1, 2023

Note: I know the source name probably inspires skepticism for a lot of people (fairly), but they're actually considered a very reliable and credible publication in both accuracy and lack of bias.

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What Oz could have been: The Great and Powerful

I first heard about the original script for Disney's "Oz The Great and Powerful" through a fan art of Theodora by the brilliant artist hwilki65 over at DeviantArt. The fan-art in question is gone now, but do not hesitate to go check the artist's gallery over at DeviantArt, he is one of the most thorough Oz artists of the Internet with tons of clever and beautiful takes on the Ozian world.

Everybody remembers Disney's "Oz The Great and Powerful", right? This Disney movie that attempted to be a prequel to the MGM movie, and yet couldn't really because Disney didn't have the rights? This VERY divise 2013 movie which was a big flop in terms of Oz adaptation? You remember, this thing which took a very cool concept of prequel, a lot of beautiful visuals and impressive visual effects and just... drowned it in cliche plot points, wasted opportunities and the most insufferable characters you ever met?

Yeah, this movie.

In his description for his fan-art, hwilki65 evoked the original scenario for the movie. His fan-art was of the "original" Theodora, not the one from the movie - and while the final product might seem like a simple cash-grab attempting at reclaiming the MGM heritage, these early drafts proved that the movie ACTUALLY started out as much more faithful to the Oz books and more sincere in its attempt at reconciliating the various Oz heritages into something new.

Of course, the idea of a better original version of the movie, that eventually was butchered into the story we can see today, was very intriguing. So I checked out the original script for the movie (but not after YEARS of searching it around, because it wasn't disponible online at first). And OH MY! The original scenario is indeed very different from the final movie, and quite better in term of overall quality! I did a full breakdown of this script back at my Oz side-blog (@witchesoz ), but to give you a taste of what we lost, and to encourage you to go seek this original scenario, here are some key points different from the final movie:

Oscar, the Wizard of Oz. In the movie? A selfish, greedy, womanizing jerk who starts out as the villain of the story, and his evolution arc is basically just him learning to be a decent human being. In the original script? He was such a positive character - in fact I will dare say he was a saner and cleaner version of Jack Sparrow. He was this kind-hearted, goofy, extravagant stage magician VERY good at his job (he was also a ventriloquist like in the novel, AND an escape artist/contortionist), but unfortunately unappreciated by the folks of 1900s USA, so he was forced to do snake-oil selling just to survive. He wasn't motived by greed or lust, but by his day-dreaming and ambition at being the greatest magician of all time, acclaimed by the masses - and the reason he played into "Yes I'm the Wizard of the prophecy" wasn't because of some girls or riches, but simply because Oz was the first place where his magic tricks actually impressed someone.

Remember this little winged monkey fella that Oscar saves the life of in Oz, and so the monkey swears a "life debt" to the wizard and becomes his funny sidekick? In the original script it was the reverse situation. Oscar was helped by a winged monkey, and thanked the talking animal for saving his life, swearing he had a "life debt" TO THE WINGED MONKEY, not the reverse.

In the final movie, when Oscar is in the tornado, he just whimpers and begs for his life. In the original script? He underwent a King Lear-like monologue, insulting the winds and defying the storm, insulting the tornado and daring it to kill him.

Theodora... Oh, Theodora! The character was originally designed as the very opposite of what she ended up as. She wasn't a shy, naive, nice girl - she was this strong, confident, majestic witch. Oscar didn't manipulate her like a teenage girl: she was the one who manipulated Oscar like a puppet by pretending to be a good witch and forcing him into the role of The Wizard of Oz. Yes I say "by pretending" to be a good a witch. Because originally, Theodora was a wicked witch FROM the start. She knew and was in league with her sister's evil plan. The only difference between the two is that Theodora, as the younger and less experimented sister, still had some humanity left in her - feelings of kindness and human decency that the wizard managed to "wake up" by just... being nice to her and treating her like a regular human being. There was the whole "I give you the music box" scene, but it was the reverse? In the original draft Oscar didn't lie, he just gave her a random music box as a gift for helping him in Oz, just out of kindness without expecting anything in return ; and that DID touch Theodora because indeed, since she is a wicked witch, she never had such a genuine gift out of pure kindness.

Originally we would have the backstory of the Cowardly Lion. Theodora, wishing to "test" if the Wizard truly had powers or not, secretely turned a rabbit into a lion, and had it attack Oscar while he was alone and presumably defenseless... Only for the Wizard to shoot it with a gun, causing in this rabbit-lion the fear of humanity.

Originally the servants of the Wicked Witches were the various terrible tribes of the novel "The Emerald City of Oz", monstrous outsiders the Witch sisters had Oz invaded with. The Growleywogs, the Whimsies, the Nomes (well rather the Gnomes)...

In the movie Theodora "turn to evil" is literaly just "Oh, a guy cheated on me, I'm heartbroken, let me nomnom on some evil". In the original draft? SO MUCH BETTER! Evanora, noticing Oscar had rekindled the last piece of goodness in her sister, first tries to convince Oscar he should kill Theodora because she is "in league with the wicked witch". When Oscar refuses to commit murder, Evanora tries to convince Theodora Oscar was trying to kill her... But Theodora doesn't buy it and, even though the Wizard knows she is a Wicked Witch, she still helps him escape Evanora in return for the kindness he showed her. And afterward, Evanora spends many, many scenes abusing her sister, at first verbally, psychologically, finally physically, to convince her to give up on the last of her humanity and enter a deeper, more monstrous stage of wickedness. Theodora does end up burning her skin due to the tears - but they're the tears her sisters make her shed with her torture. And Theodora resists' Evanora poisonous words, only to give up when Glinda causes a siege on the Emerald City and the Witches must prepare themselves to directly confront and fight Oscar.

And can we speak about Glinda? She was SO MUCH closer to the Glinda of the books! She was this majestic, beautiful and powerful warlord-witch living in a grand palace in the south, all on her own (because, since she is a witch, she literaly needs no servant). As soon as she saw Oscar, she cut through his bullshit and shoot down his dream of grandeur, because she knows what real magic is (all Witches do, but the Wicked Witches played along to better manipulate Oscar). She gathers an ACTUAL army of thousand of people to besiege the Emerald City ; and during the war she uses so much more her powers, bu unleashing blinding mists and huge snowstorms, and literaly stopping or unleashing the winds. Oh yes, and all possible romance between Oscar and her is also clearly made impossible when it is revealed that Witches cannot kiss humans - else humans DIE (which also puts Theodora's loneliness under a new light).

Oh yes, and in the original draft, Oscar's development was actually him going from this ambitious daydreamer who only wished for a fantasy land to escape to, where he would be a great and acclaimed wizard... to him actually being fed up with Oz where everybody wants to kill or manipulate him, and dreaming to return to Kansas to settle down with those he truly love, and live there a mundane, quiet, normal life, as a regular man... Something he ends up being forced to give up, because he is needed to prevent the Wicked Witches from overtaking Oz, and so he literaly is trapped within his own dream and forced to give up what he realized too lat was what he wanted all along...

Seriously, the original draft for the movie was SO INSANELY COOL. It was still a rough draft and it had pacing problems, and some cheesy stuff that definitively needed to be cut, and also some weird phrasing that made it sound somehow racist sometimes? But outside of that, the characters and plot were truly so much better than what we got!