#Poetry did a great job

[hyperpotamianarch]

All right. So, first: if you are either Jewish, like His Dark Materials, or both, please reblog. If you aren't any of those but know someone who is - please share it with them. I want to get as many thoughts on this as possible.

In essence, I just want to ask two simple questions. I have the beginnings of answers for myself, but Judaism is nothing if not full of discourse and many opinions on one topic. So, again: reblog. Share your thoughts and opinions. Hopefully, it will give us a wide variety of possibilities and answers.

The two questions are: where are Jews in Lyra's world? And what are the theological and Halachic concequences of having dæmons?

I intend to share my opinions in two separate reblogs, but please share your thoughts even if you don't see mine. The short version is that I looked about events in Jewish history around John Calvin's time for the first question (pope John Calvin being the major alternation of history in HDM). As for the second question - I have some thoughts relating to the Chabad thought stream. Elaborations, again, going in reblogs.

Thank you in advance!

(PS, question number 1 was handled once by the sadly deactivvated user the Tea Detective, though their full post disappeared. Link to a reblogging of the first half: here. Note, another reblog mentions other religions - feel free to discuss them, I'm focusing on Judaism because I'm Jewish. Another post asking this question was posted here, so have fun with it. Meanwhile, this post is about dæmons and religions in general and lightly touches Judaism.)

[probablynanobots]

Poetry Slam # I forgot

My father makes the rhythm

Of work and sweat and earn.

My mother keeps the melodies

Of make and cook and learn.

They made their home with care,

Filled it up with warmth and trust.

So now its time for them to rest,

And pass their torch to us.

[creatediana]

“Winky” - a first attempt at painting, done 3/16/2023 with acrylics on canvas

Fun fact: this is the same doll I drew in charcoal almost a year ago in April of 2022. That drawing was later on accepted for an art show.

Bonus: picture I sent to my sister during the process

[granhairdo]

ten first lines game

thank you so much for the tag @sadeyedlady-writes!!!!

idea here is show the first lines of your ten most recent fanfictions, and if you don’t have ten, just post what you have :D

osprey- les mis

Girl's eyes are open In a blur of endless spring Wine bottles and clanging bells And horse hooves clack and clop

i am stuck in a dream- les mis

Montparnasse's days had turned into a never-ending abyss. The rebellion had come and gone, and with it, the decline of the Patron-Minette. His comrades, his partners in crime, were all gone, either dead or too far away and don't care.

the skies don’t ever offer respite- les mis

In Éponine's blurred world, the streets and passersby faded into indistinct colors, unnoticed. Trembling violently, her entire body convulsed, shaking like never before.

king and lionheart- great expectations

Pip watched Estella from afar, aching for her cruel beauty. She was his muse, his pain.

you can blame me when there’s no one left to blame- duelle

Lucie finally stopped running, feeling a sharp pain in her throat and side. As soon as her body came to a pause, a flood of exhaustion came over her. She put her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Viva was gone, at least for now.

because i know there’s more than one way to lose my mind… to lose my mind… to lose my mind… to lose my mind- les mis

It was a warm night, with nothing but a slight chilling breeze running through the gaping holes in Éponine’s skirt, making her sharp knees tremble.

oh, my boy, you’re alive- les mis (1934 film)

A visceral pain seared through Éponine’s body when she saw the boys carrying what looked like her brother into the Corinth. Limp arms, still chest, and half open eyes, dead.

le cirque de patron-minette- les mis

Amidst the flickering glow of gas lamps, in a world where shadows danced to a melody of intrigue, there existed a troupe of enigmatic performers who traversed the thin line between light and darkness.

but you’re fine with the pace of my turn around- les mis

Enjolras cracks open the door to Éponine’s room, squinting at the bright industrial lighting that flooded the room. He sees her, sitting at the edge of the bed, staring off blankly.

questions- les mis

He was but a macabre Epiphron Clothed in an overcoat Darker than his eyes

—————————————————————————

thanks again for the tag!

tagging (no pressure!): @kiwiabby @patron-minette @wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj @fireplace-ashes + anyone else because i am BLANKING today and i feel like i forgot about some of you

[sanguineterrain]

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

[amyrosedaily]

Day 67: Delivery! (Silver Week day 2)

Damn late by 3 minutes haha! Anyway this is actually from a Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog AU that I have not shared anywhere other than my brain lmao. It’s basically just: what if there was a Sonic AU where everyone was ACTUALLY their roles in TMOSTH. I’ll add some lore beneath the cut for anyone interested haha

PLEASE! Donate to help save Safaa and her family! | Main post | Gofundme (THEYRE ALMOST HALFWAY!!!)

So basically the au starts with Sonic, Amy, Tails, and Knuckles all celebrating Sonic’s recent promotion to ship captain. It’s a party where they’re both celebrating but also saying goodbye since Sonic will be heading out on his first voyage as captain in a few days.

Amy ofc is a journalist and has been working as one for a little bit while Tails just started working as an assistant detective at a local agency. (Haven’t quite figured out Knuckles yet oops)

Anyway the plot begins when Sonic nearly drowns aboard his first voyage. When his body is first found his friends do cruelly think he had died, but luckily the doctors are able to save him and he wakes up not too long after but is very delierious - however, he remembers being pushed.

Sonic had hid his fear of water and inability to swim from his crew even before he was captain, only his close friends knew. Plus now the media is reporting on the failed ship voyage and how Sonic’s first venture as captain was such a failure.

Amy and Tails now know this wasn’t as accident - it was an attempted murder. So they team up to find the truth of what happened and report on it publicly. Both to keep the media from saying bad about their friend, but also revenge.

I haven’t figured out all the details but I want all the characters to be involved somehow. Right now I’ve only Kind Of figured out Espio and Silver. (Yeah Silvers here I wanted him to be lol)

Espio did NOT kill Sonic, however he was an important accomplice. Espio is just trying to get into university (or some higher education) while helping Vector take care of Charmy. Espio has been trying to write poetry to sell to help Vector, who’s currently the only one making money with his job as a butcher. However one day, Charmy gets very sick and the Chaotix can’t afford to take him to urgent care. The illness isn’t usually deadly but in children it can be worse. Feelings scared and desperate, Espio does something he hasn’t done since before he met Vector - hired assassination.

Essentially Espio gets hired to incapacitate Sonic, which he does with the blow dart. Espio however did not push Sonic or even physically come into contact with him at all. I think Espio DID actually believe he killed Sonic - where he drugged Sonic and then Sonic fell overboard. However since Sonic remembers being pushed and Espio never touched him, Espio didn’t actually kill him.

Silver, in this au, is just a regular mailman…kinda? I want him to work for Blaze (who I haven’t quite figured out how she fits in yet) and as shown in his comic, supplied Espio with both the weapon and the poison in a way that Vector and Charmy wouldn’t find out. This parts self indulgent tbh I just think Espio and Silver would make a great assassin duo if they wanted to hahaha

Anyway that’s all I got so far!! If you read this wow!! Thank you!

[stardewremixed]

We need better marriage candidate advantages! Gifts, dinners, and occasional chores on the farm are nice, but....

Shane - starts taking care of the chickens and you get more eggs (double or triple from one chicken) or an extra chicken every year. Plus discounts at Marnie's. Oh and give me a room for Jas on the farm!!! Also he starts working at Pierre's after Joja closes and leads weekly AA meetings at the community center. Marnie also visits occasionally and brings gifts. Wanders into the forest sometimes and brings back forage.

Abigail - discounts at Pierre's, shopping on Wednesdays, and she goes adventuring with you in the mines (for some rare drops). Discounts at the Adventurer's Guild after she becomes a full-fledged member. Her parents visit on the farm and you get occasional gifts from them. Breaks up rocks on the farm (actual rocks in your inventory and occsisonal geodes).

Harvey - discounts at the clinic for the amount of times you're injured in the mines and he is the one who finds you and carries you home so you don't lose any items. Weekly energy tonics. And sometimes he plays jazz (Unlocks new music). Discounts at the bookseller (1.6) because he befriends the hot air balloon operator. And the man gets over his fear of heights and gets his chopper license. Can take you to Ginger Island for free.

Maru - weekly energy tonics since she works in the Clinic (yes, she should keep her job) and battery packs, plus her dad visits the farm cave and you get better drops in there. Robin visits too and says things like "oh, I saw such and such needed upgraded or repaired, so I did it. " Seb visits and might bring a gift. She also creates a working robot that can automate some farm chores at random. Joins the aerobics class at Caroline's.

Sebastian - discounts from Robin for upgrades and her shop, he occasionally goes adventuring with you in the quarry (for rare drops), and brings in a side income from his incredibly popular indie computer game. Brings gifts from his trips to Zuzu City. Hosts weekly jam sessions with Abigail and Sam on the farm. Organizes DnD game night at the community center - friendly to beginner's.

Leah - chops wood for you (actual wood in your inventory), crafts beautiful decor for your farm, and brings you delicious forage from the forest. Brings in a small income from her artistry. And she would also adventure with you in the secret woods (rare drops and better protection). Might buy you a drink or salad at the Saloon on occasion. Would absolutely dance with you at the Stardrop on Friday nights if you asked her.

Alex - Builds a ramp for George and then his grandparents occasionally visit the farm, bearing gifts. He chops wood and breaks up stone on the farm (actual wood/stone in your inventory). And let's start a food truck. Sells at his stand year round (and more than just ice cream), bringing in a small monthly income. He would be an excellent ally also on difficult adventuring levels (preventing you from getting surrounded). If you do go down, he's carrying you home so that you don't lose any items. Runs bingo at community center for the older townies (including his grandparents). Finally fixed the damn leak in Evelyn's roof.

Elliott - let's upgrade his beach cabin for a vacation getaway! He brings you home from the library with all sorts of useful knowledge. The man brings in an income selling his stories and poetry. Establishes a regular reading event at the library. Teaches writing classes at the Community Center. Discounts at Willy's (Willy is Elliott's great uncle in my headcanon). He would occasionally adventure with you on Ginger Island. Oh and I think you'd adopt Leo together and build a little treehouse on the farm.

Sam - income from Joja (or the movie theater), builds a skate park for the kids on town (a new post marriage heart event), and travels occasionally with his band (bringing in a sporadic income). Oh and he writes new songs for the jukebox at the Saloon. (Unlocks new music). Probably plays for the locals on Friday nights. Vincent would come stay with you on the farm, on occasion, so he would have a room. Plus Jodi would bring you dinners on Sundays. Kent would send you regular gifts in the mail. Also unlimited free games at the arcade (Sam's always buying).

Haley - has a photography show (like Leah does with her art) and decorates your farmhouse with occasional prints (new decor), plus an income from selling her services as a photographer. I like to think she works with Seb on the town website and adds her images. Brings gifts from her trips to Zuzu City. Scythes grass on occasion on the farm (actual grass and sometimes mixed seeds in your inventory). Would plant flowers in a farm garden with Evelyn. Emily would visit and bring gifts.

Emily - discounts at the Saloon, a small weekly stipend, and sells her clothes online, plus you get to join the weekly aerobics class at Caroline's with her (and if you have high hearts with Clint, you get discounts at the blacksmith too). Sometimes misc clothing, shoe, hat, and ring upgrades show up in your inventory. Haley would visit and bring gifts.

Penny - special events at the community center (she helps establish family-friendly activities and the community center is more active). She goes back to school for her official license and brings in a small income from teaching. Discounts on bus rides thanks to her mom, or cheaper bus repair if you aren't done yet. Better rewards at the library/museum when you donate items because of her friendship with Gunther. And she creates a playroom at the farm for Jas and Vincent (and your kids, of course). Pam might visit on occasion and bring gifts (and like Shane, Pam would attend the weekly AA meetings).

Okay... confession time... who are you marrying based on the above advantages?

[witchofhimring]

Under the shadow of the Crown

Synopsis: Your life as Princess Baela's lady-in-waiting is ripped apart. Queen Rhaenyra decrees that you marry her younger half brother Aemond. Terrified, you are in no position to object. Such are the lives of those in the shadow of the crown.

Pairings: Aemond x Y/n

Part of my Dynasty of Blood AU series, built of this concept.

You had never payed attention to the second sulky son of Alicent Hightower. If fact you had not even come to mainland Westeros to marry him in the first place. Of course marriage had always been in the cards. As heir to Blackhalt, your families ancestral seat just off of The Reach. A great match had always been in store for you. Lord Cregan Stark and Jeoffrey Velaryon had both been put forth. Only Lord Stark's had been seriously considered as the third born son of Queen Rhaenyra was not yet ten. It was only a pity the eldest two of her boys were to be wed. Well, Lucerys and Rhaena had not been wed at the time you arrived at Kings Landing. Crowned Prince Jaecerys had already taken Baela Targaryen to wife by then. Your role, until it was time to take up the mantel of ladyship, was to serve the royal family and cultivate whatever ties you could.

You were placed in the service of Princess Baela. She was around your age, born within the same year. Admittedly you were more than a bit intimidated. Use to being the second highest ranking lady in the room it was strange to be standing in front of the third greatest lady in the land. Not only that but Baela rode a dragon. Her beauty was intimidating as well, with thick silver hair and wide violet eyes. Her skin was dark and smooth, the scars she obtained in battle only giving highlighting her features. Normally scars could not be considered pretty, but Baela seemed to wear them as one would their jewels. Clad in black and red the princess looked almost like one of those Valyrian gods. Not that you had ever met one before. But perhaps this was how they were depicted.

The two of you would forge a friendship. A combination of personal liking and ambition. However it was with Rhaena that you first became friends with. The younger of the two, Rhaena was less assuming compared to Baela. That did not mean, as many mistakened her for, a wilting flower. She simply preferred to be more guarded and taken to court etiquette more easily. The two of you had much in common, a love of fine dresses, music, poetry and an ability to connive when the situation so called for it. When you were free of duties the two of you would hide under the Weirwood and read poetry.

Two years passed and a new year was upon everyone. A New Years ball was to be arranged and it was up to a team of ladies (including yourself) to organize who was wearing what. It was already agreed upon that Baela would be wearing a high collared red gown with rubies sewn into it. Not that she knew it yet. The rest of you would wear colours representing your houses to show a symbol of unity. "I think everyone should wear a red ribbon to symbolize the princess." Rhaena pulled out a silver box from underneath a tall tower of various items. Let it not be said this was an easy job. A new years celebration was nothing to scoff at. Especially as this one would be a pre-celebration to the marriage of Rhaena to Lucerys. Rhaenyra's second son had been off to learn what it mean to be a lord. This had been to the great distress of Rhaenyra. But she finally relented, unusually, and allowed Daemon to teach her son everything there was to know about being Prince of Dragonstone. Now that he had experience and was a man it was high time Lucerys married.

"Oh dear." Lady Cassandra stifled a laugh as she held up a pair of ludicrously high heels. Lady Cerelle of Casterly Rock paled and looked to Rhaena. She would find no security in her look as Rhaena sighed. "Let me see." You took the pair from her hand and examined them. They were exquisite in design and any woman would be thrilled to have them. Except this was Baela who would likely be as friendly as Vhargar when it came to overly constraining dresses.

Rhaena sighed and slumped in her seat. She looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. "Baela is going to kill me." You looked up at her. "Why you?" Rhaena sat up and stooped down to gather loose fabric. "Because I was the one who commissioned Panella to make the dress. And I swear I told her to make the dress to Baela's tastes. But the Queen ordered her to make it luxurious as possible." Queen Rhaenyra was well known for her expensive tastes. Just a glance at her dresses was enough for anyone to know. This had worked in your favour when the Queen gifted you a dress of pink silk and pearls. You had yet to wear it but the dress was truly magnificent. However, at this moment, was it worth it if Baela ripped your head off?

Deliverance came in the form a knock. One of Dowager Queen Alicents handmaidens entered. She first curtsied to Rhaena and then turned to you. "Lady Y/n, the Queen Dowager has requested your presence." Getting up you bid the ladies farewell before leaving. Hopefully you would be kept away long enough to avoid Baela's terror.

Lady Alicent had settled in the Hands Tower, much to the annoyance of the actual hand Ser Corlys Velaryon. The moment you entered green clouded your vision. On the steps of a dais sat the women serving Alicent. They mostly hailed from the Reach and Westerlands. Sitting on a throne like chair was Alicent. She looked older than her thirty and four years, a statue of regality and sternness. Had you done something to incur her ire? There was nothing you could think of. So you curtsied, hoping that if she was upset a show of supplication (even if it irked you) might mollify her. To your surprise she smiled, or at least it looked like a smile. This unsettled you to a degree.

"Lady Y/n, the Queen, your father and myself have chosen a husband for you." Several things went through your mind, excitement, anxiety and hope. You had been endlessly curious as to who would become your husband and the future lord consort to Blackhalt. "You will be marrying my son Prince Aemond. Everything dropped out from beneath you. Not literally, but it felt like someone had just hurled you down a dark tunnel. Out of everyone why him!? You could not say Aemond was well known to you. Only the stories and the looks he gave anyone attached to his elder sisters house. As you were a member of Baela's household his dislike over spilled into you as well.

Was this your fathers idea? Or your mother, who despite not being the ruling lady held great sway. Always you had known you'd marry, such was the duty of every lord and lady. Never had you though as you did now, that this was all some great mistake.

You curtsied to the third most powerful woman in Westeros and said how honoured you were. An honour it may be, but not one you cherished.

"Absolutely not!" If one though Baela had been angry beforehand it was nothing to her tirade over Aemond taking one of her handmaidens. "My Princess, I can still serve you, surely." You held her hand in your own. In the greatest state of anxiety Baela hardly seemed to notice. Suddenly she bounded to her feet. Cerelle leapt back in fright and Cassandra rose to her feet. Baela seized your hand and headed out the door. She strode forward with such a great fury you nearly tripped. You could hear the other two following, also having difficulty in catching up. It was only when you entered a staircase lined with red tapestries did you realize where it was Baela was taking you. Before there was even time to protest Baela waved the guards aside and burst through the door. Queen Rhaenyra lounged on a plush chair, surrounded by her three youngest sons, little Princess Visenya and four ladies. As usual she was bedecked in the finest robes imaginable. Jeoffrey came to his feet and rushed towards Baela. Despite the animosity between Baela and her good-mother she was fond of her husbands siblings. Once they broke apart Jeoffrey rushed back to his mother. Tention filled the room was two Targaryen Princesses stared each other down. Baela may not be Queen yet, but she had enough spirit to outdo almost any other. Rhaenyra may have been older, but the fire dwelling within her blood was no less furious. Despite their differences they both had something starkly similar. They were the very blood of Old Valyria.

"Princess Baela. Please take a seat." Baela simply stood there, not budging. Nervously you stood there. While Baela might get away with this you may suffer the brunt of Rhaenyra's anger. She was quick to anger and slow to forgive. So you hung your head in hopes that she might consider you unworthy of her anger. "He who bends may rise again", it was a Greyjoy saying, yet your mother mentioned it had a great deal of merit.

Lady Cassandra quietly entered, paid her respects to the Queen, then stood there. "Lady Velaryon, please take my daughter to her room." Lasfy Velaryon, a cousin of Baela, rose and took the hand of little Visenya who had only recently celebrated her third name day. With some fussing the princess was spirited away. Rhaenyra waited until her daughters little footsteps disappeared. When Rhaenyra focused her attention back onto Baela she looked as gentle as a dragon. They said the Queen was quick to anger, slow to forgive. You prayed her anger did not fall on you.

"Your impertinence is noted, Baela. Remember I am Queen so watch your tongue." The subject of Queenship had always been a tense, provocative one. When King Laenor died the crown passed to his wife. At the time Prince Jacaerys was only ten and considered too young to rule. Fearing a war over regency as had happened in the time of King Jaehaerys they had the boys mother become Queen. It was all wrapped up in a neat little bow. No boy kings and the succession going down the natural path. Or it would be so if it were not for the face Rhaenyra's sons were not Laenor's. Whispers floated down the halls that it was the former Captain of the City Guard Ser Harwin Strong who had fathered the boy. If the succession had gone down the true legitimate line then it would have passed to Laena's line. Baela was Laena's eldest child. But Rhaenyra was quick. She married Laena's widower Daemon Targaryen and married their children together.

Baela, who should have been Queen, stood in front of her stepmother who was Queen. Veryone else shrunk back. Even little Jeoffrey. "I hear you mean to marry Y/n Blackhalt to Aemond." She practically spat out the last words. All these years later Baela was still smarting over the injustice of Aemond taking Vhaegar from her sister. The feeling was mutual. Aemond had hated the Velaryon girls ever since that terrible fight on Driftmark. After the funeral of Princess Laena Aemond had stuck out and claimed Vhaegar which had once belonged to Aegon, consort of Queen Visenya. Words were said and Baela punched Aemond. A brawl ensued and Aemond lost an eye. The relationship between the families of Viserys Targaryen's first and second wives had never been smooth. Rhaenyra was left imbittered after her lady-in-waiting Alicent married her father. The two had never reconciled. Or so you heard.

"I am aware. Myself, Lady Alicent and your father have all agreed to it." Baela puffed up. "As a lady in my service Y/n is under my care and therefore I should have been informed." "My brother is a prince of the realm. Lady Y/n should feel honoured." Rhaenyra's amethyst eyes then settled on you. Oh Gods no.

"Lady Y/n, what do you say?" This was possibly the worst situation you could be placed in. Either way you would offend someone. Your best friend and future Queen, or the current Queen. Your mothers lessons went through your head. What would she do in this situation? Feigning calm, you spoke. "My opinion hardly counts. I will do what is best for the realm." You prayed this appeased both Targaryens. Rhaenyra had a look of satisfaction on her face. Baela's you could not see.

"There we have it. Is there anything else you would like to add?" It was not because Baela had been calmed that she turned and left. You could see the tension in her shoulders and knew Baela only left to stop herself from doing something truly rash. She had let go of you and both you and Cassandra were forced to race behind. All the way to her room the three of you ran. Rhaena and Cerelle were still in Baela's room. Rhaena opened her mouth but Baela spoke first. Once inside she immediately rounded on you. "So you want to marry him!" The fury in her voice made you cower. Unable to speak, it took everything in you not to cry. "You betray me in front of the Queen! You! Are you truly my friend or will you open your legs to any many who will have you!" Everyone gasped. Cassandra dropped the pearls, Rhaena clasped a hand to her mouth and Cerelle had silently fled.

You could not even cry. Your fear was so intense you remained rooted to the spot, stuck dumb. By no means were you a coward. Under any other situation you would have defended your honour. But not only was Baela your friend, but a Princess and future Queen. Baela's furious person glowered at you. Trembling, you only just begun to think of anything to say when Baela turned on her feet and stormed out.

There was no air in your lungs. Or at least that was what it felt like. Everything seemed to be falling away leaving you in a deep sea of despair. One by one you imagined everything being taken away, leaving only burned friendships and a disgraced name. Baela shot you one last disgusted before turning on her heel and leaving. With a bang the door shut.

Everything swam before you. Darkness began to rise and suddenly you were swallowed by it. Fading voiced echoed and drifted further and further away. A dull pain echoed in your head.

Then everything was black.

Pain was the first to greet you. The sun nearly blinded you and the world came into blurry focus. Every movement was slow and it ached. The bed dipped slightly as a face hovered above yours. "Y/n?" You recognized Rhaena through her voice. Then another joined your view. With vision clearing you realized it was a Septa. A cold hand pressed against your burning forehead and she spoke. "Can you see?" The words that came out of you sounded strange, like someone was yelling across the great hall. "Yes. But faintly, I think?" Wincing you held up a hand. Your vision was clearing and almost perfect again. "Sit up if you can." A hand behind your back helped you up. Propped against pillows a cup was placed by your lips. Cold water wetted your parched throat. It made a world of difference. Your senses were clearing and the remains of grogginess disappeared. Unfortunately it also brought pain into sharper focus. Reaching behind you felt a bump.

"Thank the Gods that is all. It could have been so much worse." Cerelle was nervously chewing her fingernails. You noticed that Cassandra and Baela were missing. "Cassandra was summoned by Baela. But she is very worried." Said Rhaena noticing your mood. "Does the Princess know what happened?" "I don't know. Not unless Cassandra told her." Defeated, you laid back. Still coming out of a haze your thoughts darted here and there. All this information, Baela's anger, the betrothal and Queen Rhaenyra's animosity made you want to faint all over again.

Cerelle and Rhaena said nothing else as you lay back down. The three of you stayed in that room, the sun setting. All the while you wondered if this was the right decision.

You should have been happy at the choice of husband. Aemond was young, handsome and a prince. But on the morning of your wedding all you felt was dread. During the early hours of the morning you lay awake, Rhaena snoring a few inches away. As a princess-to-be you got new rooms in the Red Keep. These ones opened out onto the garden, a combination of roses and salt lingering on every surface. You would rather have been in the old rooms. At least Baela had been your friend back then, and Aemond had not been your betrothed. You missed those days were you were just Lady Blackhalt. After the wedding you would be sent back with Aemond to Blackhalt island. Away from the place which had been your home since childhood.

Everyone but you seemed happy. Only Rhaena seemed aware of your mood. Cassandra and Cerelle were with Baela, they would no longer be with you. And Baela...who knew. They washed you within an inch of your flesh. Scrubbed till it hurt they finally pulled you out and lathered on a sweet smelling cream. Every inch of you were fussed over by an army of women. When that was done they dressed you, a whole new ordeal. For the first time you wore the Targaryen black and red. The three headed dragon was sewn onto your bodice with rubies glittering on silk strings. For a moment you forgot every worry when looking in the mirror. Every move sent sparkles dancing around you, and as princess you would always have such gowns. At least that was one comfort.

The dress became a burden when it was time for the procession through King's Landing. They placed you on a chariot for all of the smallfolk to see. They called out to you, blessing you with good fortune and many children. You smiled and waved, ignoring the heat and painful corset. Yet to have so much adoration gave you a warm feeling. You tried to focus on that. White petals were thrown into the air. Several getting caught in your hair. Finally you arrived back at the Red Keep. The remaining court which had not come with you was waiting. Helped off, you were delivered into the arms of your father. Lord Blackhalt was a stranger to his daughter. Having barely seen him in years it felt strange to have him hand you off. Baela might as well have done the honours. Speaking of Baela she was there. It hurt when she barely looked at you. And after this you would likely hardly see her again.

They were now closing in from all sides. Walking into the Great Hall you felt all their eyes on you. 'From now on I will always be watched.' You thought. You would go from lady to princess. A member of the royal family. Waiting for you at the end was the High Septon and Queen Rhaenyra, looking on in satisfaction. You hated the queen, her satisfied look making you want to throw up down the stairs. How dare she act all pleased! And then you saw your betrothed. Aemond stood inches from his sister. His black leather made you want to shrink away. 'Don't you it.' The warning spurred you on.

Aemond's hand was calloused and cold. It was a shock compared to the heat of this morning. For the first time you looked Aempnd in the face. As a body you feared him, as a man you nearly ran. And now you would spend the rest of your life with him. His purple eye was hard to read. No expression passed his face. It was worse than showing anger, at least you would know what to expect. Right now you knew nothing. In truth despite the proximity for so many years you knew nothing about him. Always it had been the words of Baela and Rhaena which painted a picture. Now on your own there was a blank canvas.

'With this kiss I pledge my love.' Empty words. His lips were cold against your own ones. Your black and white cloak was whipped off, replaced by the Targaryen sigil. No longer Lady Y/n. Y/n Blackhalt, Princess of Westeros. You felt naked, unprotected. And now your girlhood was ended.

Notes: I just want to reiterate that this is not a story in the sense I will organize it into chapters. It will be a collection of one shots based off of scenarios. If anyone wants to further discuss these characters I am happy to do so!

About the characters: Cassandra is much nicer in this version. I suspect that the reason she was so bitter in Fire and Blood was because she went from a possible heiress to House Baratheon and promised to a prince, then promised to a King. Only she ended up married to a man well below her station. Personally I think she was definitely ambitious, but is less malicious in this version due to being Lady Baratheon by right. So she certainly has less to be bitter about.

Now, about the readers wedding. Because this is a world were women inherit the reader will keep her last name. But because she is marrying into the royal family she wears their colours. So that is why she wears the Targaryen cloak.

Rhaenyra does come off as cruel in this one-shot however she will get more development. Her actions are a combination of spite against Baela and to show her place as Queen. Baela resents Rhaenyra for taking the place she thinks is hers. I will at some point write a one-shot from Baela's point of view.

The other ideas I have in mind:

-Rhaenyra and the reader talking about their dead ancestors

-Baela and Daenerys (reader's daughter) talks about queenship

-Reader's friendship with Baela and Rhaena

-"Monarchs of Westeros" (part 1) Covering every monarch of Westeros in this AU from Visenya the First to Rhaenyra the Second.

[evilminji]

You know how in Naruto, Sealing is a Finicky Art?

It's like computer coding, calligraphy, and symbolism had a super-powered/reality bending baby. You gotta think in VERY ADHD twirls and swirls too be any good at it. Which is why the Uzumaki rocked it so hard. But I digress.

Is Complexe AF.

Bends Reality and is EASY to fuck up.

Wanna bet? The BEST way to learn/use it? Is to copy already functioning examples? But Oh! How do you KNOW they are functioning? Safe? Well OBVIOUSLY, your Skilled At Seals teacher looks at it first! THEN gives it too you!

Using random seals you find in the dirt is how you get splattered across three different countryside in peices, after all. Possibly take out a nearly Town or two while your at it. No One Is THAT Dumb... RIGHT?

Enter Stage Right o/~☆ Humanity, Everybody! *polite, if strained, golf clapping*

They ABSOLUTELY Are!

Especially Ninja!

Ninja who, after fuckin MURDERING A WHOLE ASS VILLAGE OF SEALING MASTERS, decided to pick through the rubble! Because THAT is gonna work out GREAT! After all... it's not like you just KILLED the fuckers who could tell you what IS and IS NOT functional!

Was that once the "hazardous advanced class' sealing failures" bin? Or was it the "super awesome candy and rainbows" stash!? You don't know. NO ONE DOES NOW. You fuckin KILLED THE PEOPLE WHO DID.

They had their own REGIONAL Sealing Script.

You know, the one they taught to THEIR STUDENTS. Not outsiders. The students you KILLED, you absolute fuck nuggets. But hey! The threat of the Super Scary Sealing Masters is no more! Good job. You've successfully burned down the library. It can't hurt you ever again.

But NOW? You have piles upon piles of GIBBERISH.

You can only VAGUELY tell the novice seals from the master's. And even then? Do you have any idea what most of them DO? Nope. And after a certain point in training? The shaky, uncertain hand writing becomes smooth enough, that it all blends together in "Seals".

Now... what is the SMART thing to do?

Curse your hubris and the atrocities your fear allowed you to commit, obviously. But BEYOND that, Don't Touch Them. But we're Ninja. So WE are all suicidal idiots. The less smart but still Reasonably Precautionary thing to do? Study the amateur Seals. Learn Sealing from other masters.

Crack the Regional Script and slowly, painstakingly, work through each seal as we sort out what is and isn't safe. What can be salvaged. What can be used and how.

A process that will likely take years if not decades.

But of course, that's not GOOD ENOUGH for certain grabby handed, power hungry, short sighted, fuck weasels! No, no. It much EASIER to just throw human life into the blender until profit pops out! Completely IGNORING, of course, that SOME of these?

Could very well be the "Too Dangerous To Ever Use/Will Destroy Us All/Take Them All With Us" type of Seals that Kage usually LOCK UP. The kind you CAN'T destroy once you've made them, because the fall out would be WORSE. And?

Even if you are a murderous, middle management, go nowhere in your life, BASTARD of a ninja? Sometimes you can look down at the massive, intricately detailed, killer off nation's before you. Something that was WRAPPED in locks upon locks upon chains upon seals. And KNOW in your selfish, survival at all costs little heart... You DO NOT want anyone to fuck with this.

You CAN NOT let anyone fuck with this.

NO ONE can be allowed to touch it.

Not for ANYTHING.

You may fear S Class Kage and Missing Nin and what all else they may do to you. But THIS? Your eyes can't even properly FOCUS on it. It's like a tunnel that's lined with poetry, stretching all the way to the Earth's core. It's perfectly flat. It moves, a gentle rotation. But is that just your eyes, tricking you?

So much ink, it swallows the scroll, and this is when it's COMPRESSED.

How many nations?

How many NATIONS must this monstrosity span, when free?

It must have taken a Master decades, if not their entire life, to complete. Possibly a family, several generations. But... but gods it is a work of MADNESS. No wonder it was sealed. It speak, you... you THINK... of Death...

Of it's KING.

Something BEYOND the Shinigami. BEYOND Death and the Purelands.

Who the FUCK would try to summon something beyond GODS? Did they think they could control it? Chain it like the bijuu? You're so cold inside. Because you KNOW. You fucking KNOW, the ambitions and arrogance of those above you.

They'll think they can.

They won't listen.

You... you have to take this and RUN. You stand no chance. But no chance is better then oblivion. Anything is better then standing by and watching it happen.

You obviously don't make it. You never expected too. But at least... at least you won't have to watch whatever THAT is... arrive... fuck...

At least you TRIED.

And? Because leaf Ninja, specifically certain teams, have the MOST Shit luck imaginable? They arrive, having crossed paths with several other teams, on the way back home (yay! Warm food and real beds!) Just in time to see a desperate looking ninja from one of the small villages get fuckin pincushioned. Drop what is VERY clearly an Uzushio Scroll of considerable size and SEVERE SSS+ DO Not EVER Touch Grade Type Markings, and then some joining from that same village go to grab it.

Notice them.

You know... the multiple LEAF NINJA. Who TOO THIS DAY, wear the UZU swirl on their uniforms as a mourning tribute to the DEAR AND PRECIOUS ALLIES they could not save. The Uzushio Allies. Those ones. The ones that were, in fact, from Uzushio.

LIKE THE SCROLL YOU ARE HOLDING.

By the WAY! How DID you get that Scroll? Doesn't seem like something our dear friends would just HAND over, now does it? You didn't happen to LOOT THEIR FUCKIN GRAVES did you? Cause we sure would be MAD about that!

:)

Real Mad.

Dude obviously panics. Because that? That is a VERY pissed off bunch of Ninja, many in the bingo book, one of whom is Very Clearly throwing off BIJUU CHAKRA. And just said "my family's" Ha ha... Oh Shit that's an Uzumaki.

So he decides to USE THE SEAL.

What does it do?

He doesn't know! But it's probably SOMETHING big and impressive, right?

Yes. :) Yes it Does.

*Crack*

The SKY cracks. Like a pane of glass, struck by a hammer. Spiderwebbing as far as the eye can see above them, all from one central point, directly above the seal. The cracks there are concentrated. A point of impact. And through the cracks... something GREEN shines.

Brighter then the daylight around it, yet darker in color then the blue of the sky. Lazily whisping out like escaping mist. Time seems slow as their eyes all whip up wards. Even with senses beyond the normal human base, it is... inconceivable. SOMETHING winds back. They can not see it.

But they can feel it.

Like changing pressure as a storm rolls in.

*Crack!*

Green overtakes the blue. The sky a Kaleidescape of shards, held together by stubbornness alone. Reflecting a calm day that seems IMPOSSIBLE in the face of what's occurring. There should be wind. Great pressure changes in the face of so much FORCE, but the trees are eerily still.. utterly silent..

Nothing dares bring attention to itself.

Some distant part of their minds try to gather the thought that... that it could be an illusion. They... they should check. But they can FEEL it. Like a weight draped gently but without mercy upon their shoulders. It did not slam. But... but they can not move. Can barely breathe. It is beyond killing intent.

It is simply...

DEATH.

*CRASH!*

At last, the sky gives way. A fist, the size of towers punching through. It... it is almost elegant. A ring, almost in the shinigami's visage, wraps itself in a howling and snarled menace, around a great shining finger. A glove protects almost delicate looking, claw tipped fingers. The fist pulls back. Shard of sky falling, Floating, suspended in their moment of destruction, a glittering frame for the gapping wound that has overtaken everything.

Death...

Death has Green Eyes.

A crown of ice and starlight, pulled straight from the coldest north, hair that drifts like the drowned. His skin is that of a corpse. His breath a coldness that seems to suck all warmth from the world. There is no rage, no great irritation, his face merely twisted in slight annoyance. Mild displeasure.

And yet it feels like their greatest sin.

It BURNS.

They are ants. Less then ants. He... He LOOMS so TALL. The Green BURNS into their eyes, into their veins, chokes their lungs. The silence stretches. Those great eyes, the eyes of a GOD, move from them. To the man with the Seal.

He dies instantly.

Shit.

They... they need to... to...

Naruto wanders over and picks up the scroll, completely ignore the Giant Sky God Of Death and how all his friends are frozen in primordial fear. He roughly shakes the dirt off the delicate old relic, then squint at it. Figures he's holding it upside-down. Flipping it, he squints harder. Tilts his head and hums.

"Oh!"

He holds his hand up, turning to look at the terrifying Deity From Beyond Comprehension.

"It's me! I'm the Uzumaki! But, uh, I didn't actually summon you? Our stuff got stolen. Which really sucks!" He looks down again, brings the paper nearly to his nose trying to make out some thing. "Uuuuuh, huh. Got it! Can you get smaller? I don't got any BBQ or anything ON me right now, but Choji's Family makes REALLY good food! We can go out to eat? Ooh ooh! Maybe RAMEN! You like Ramen, right?!"

"Yep, Definitely one of Shouta's."

Rumbles The Actual Fucking King Of Death, shaking the trees and ground under your feet. As you probably stare at your fellow Leaf Nin like WTF.

"Sure, man. Give me a second."

And suddenly? He's leaning forward. Shrinking and twisting in ways that are painful to look at. The sky is... is not healing, so much as UNcracking. Rewinding itself to a pristine state. Until only a large, floating, armored God in black and white floats above you. Glowing.

One that... that is apparently FRIENDS with the Uzumaki Clan.

Because of course he is.

Naruto's introducing his Toads. And teammates. You almost feel bad for Hatake. But like? Better you then me, buddy. THEN? Death? Decides? For some inconceivable reason. "You know what? Im'ma just turn into a human WITH NO CHAKRA NETWORK. Reeeeeally freak out the locals."

And now Leaf is INCHARGE of entertaining A GOD until he decides to leave.

Or (presumably) Else.

And!! Because life loves to kick ninjas IN THE BALLS (for their stupid, STUPID life choices, YOU FUCKERS) it just HAD to be the One God? That can SEE DEAD PEOPLE. Because it's not like ninjas have Death Related Traumas or anything!

*internal ninja screaming*

Feed the guy some BBQ! Stat! Please Akimichi! Save us!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[di-kot-o-me]

Thoughts on Matt Gaetz and US Democracy...

"I'm a lawyer. Hearing that Trump nominated this pedophile thing to be the nation's attorney made my stomach hurt and it has not stopped hurting since.

I found myself in law school and I marveled at the ability of words and laws to shape justice. I was radicalized when I was supposed to be studying something but sat on my bed, my books ignored, transfixed watching Anita Hill explain why Clarence Thomas was a vile man unfit for the highest bench in the world.

I carry a copy of the Constitution in my purse. I have parts of the Declaration of Independence memorized. It sounds like poetry to me. It was written by a great mind (but a flawed man) writing a great idea.

America has always been an idea. (Aarons Sorkin said that in an episode of The West Wing, which I'm rewatching on HBO Max because I so need a real President now, and Jed Bartlet is better than most, even if fictional.) So far we have done a really shitty job of translating that idea into a reality. But we have never scrapped the idea.

But that's what we did on November 5. People are so offended by transsexuals, people with dark skin, women, and the cost of eggs being inflated by bird flu, that they're willing to give up on the idea. They went with a game show host and the prize he will award to America is hate, despair, racism, and fascism.

2016 Trump was hot garbage. But there were guardrails. He had a team that didn't so strongly resemble the Star Wars Cantina Band. There was Congress. There was SCOTUS. There was the fact he had to run for re-election. That's all gone. He outsourced the actual thinking about governing to the Heritage Foundation and they came up with a doozy of a plan. A fine blueprint for a Fourth Reich. AG Matt Gaetz will be a big part of that. But Trump's so chaotic he may go off script and make things even worse.

And I keep hearing in my head that line that Trump said. "I am your retribution." Trump is a man well acquainted with hate. His own siblings and parents despised him. He is thin-skinned, insecure, and bitter. And he spews out, without shame, who he hates. Taylor Swift, for pete's sake. Trump will give orders that hurt people he hates, and he will get actual pleasure, perhaps sexual pleasure, from watching people he hates suffer. There are names for those people. Biden. Obama. Harris. Clinton. You don't think they'll be exempt from retribution, do you? AG Gaetz will sign their death warrants.

There are no guardrails. Law should be a guardrail. Good lawyers should be a guardrail. That's all gone. Trump's at he head of the most powerful nation in the world, and he has nothing but hate as a motivation. He has no love for America or its people. It has provided him some good money and some adoration. But he's not capable of love, or honor, or even imagination. He is incapable of understanding the idea. He hasn't read the poetry. He doesn't have an American soul. I don't think he has a soul at all, TBH.

What does this mean? It means the Constitution in my purse is about to be a forgotten idea. It means that the fundamentals of this nation are about to be eviscerated. Things will be worse than we can imagine. People will die. Democracy will die. The nation will die. The idea will die. The poetry will die."

-PersimmonTea

[theoneandonlycoralinejones]

Some General Ericson's Kids Headcannons

Louis

Despite it being the zombie apocalypse, he still takes a great care in his appearance. Maybe this could be tied back to his insecurities, but he generally just finds comfort in looking nice. He kept a few colognes from before, and maybe even still has a few hair products. Of course he’d had to be resourceful to make them last this long, probably pours water into the almost empty cologne bottles to make them last longer. He also just dislikes being dirty in general, always wiping down his clothes and typically taking breaks to freshen up. 

He wants to keep the artistic spirit alive, even in the apocalypse, and he really admires people who feel the same. Everyone knows he loves piano, but when somebody actually shows interest in it he can't help but get giddy. He can ramble about musicians and songs for hours and hours and hours, and if you ever found him some new records or sheet music you'd officially be his new favorite person; ever.

Definitely was an only child; his parents put all of their focus on him, watched his every move. He was expected to get good grades, go to a good college, get a hard well-paying job afterwards. He was definitely spoiled money-wise, but his family lacked in the love and affection department. 

Violet

I’d like to think that if she ever got the chance to, she’d try to give herself a piercing. Obviously it’d be unsanitary and sort of implausible during the apocalypse, but if you think about it, all she’d need would be a needle, the piercing itself, and some sort of disinfectant, so it could possibly happen. If she did get one, probably an eyebrow piercing or a septum. She definitely isn’t the type to care too much about her appearance, but she would feel super cool having a piercing. (She wouldn’t say it though, lol)

Violet lacked any sort of hobby in the game, and this upset me. (Ruby has gardening/being a nurse, Louis has music, Tenn has art, Mitch has weapons, Omar has cooking, Aasim has writing, etc.) I feel like if she had a hobby it'd be something she'd do in secret, maybe poetry or writing songs. She definitely is the type of person to bottle her emotions up, so writing poems about it would definitely be a nice way to cope with them. She’d never share her poetry with anyone though, it's just her thing; she's way too embarrassed of it. 

If she was able to listen to any music she would definitely like indie or punk music. (Pavement, she would LOVE pavement) She’s definitely the type of person to crush on more alternative people, so I could see her trying to get into goth music just to impress a girl she likes. 

Marlon

It's obvious that he's definitely got some hefty mental issues going on, he's the type of person to bottle things up forever till he just blows up. He panics a lot in tough situations, scrambles to fix things himself, but has a hard time making things work out alone. I'd imagine his parents were probably perfectionists of some sort; who pushed a lifestyle he didn't want onto him and he tried hard to succeed for them but could never be enough. Eventually one day he acted out, sick of being forced to live a life he didn't want to live, and then was sent to Ericsons's.

A lot of people hate Marlon, for reasons that are obvious, but I really don't think he was a bad guy. He was simply misguided, and made mistakes. 

Seems like the type to smoke or drink as a way to cope. Did it more often before the apocalypse and when it first started but cigarettes and alcohol are pretty much nonexistent near Ericson’s now so he was forced to quit. 

Mitch

I see many people sort of stereotype Mitch as just this guy who likes carving knives and making bombs, which definitely is true, but I think there’s much more to him. He has a very rebellious personality which leads me to believe he probably grew up in a home where being rebellious was necessary to get any attention from his neglectful parents. They are in the boarding school for a reason, so he probably was the type of kid that almost burnt down his house or something.

Definitely seems like the type to be a big softie once you get to know him. Certainly not the type to be all soft in public, but if you're spending time one on one his more gentle side will show. 

Ruby 

She has such a motherly vibe to her, so caring and sweet. Even hands out some tough love when needed. I think that's one of the reasons why she likes the greenhouse so much, she loves to take care of things; plants included. (Obviously she also liked it because of Ms. Martin, but yk)

She's certainly not the type to accept compliments easily, she just can't imagine that when people compliment her they're telling the truth. I'd imagine that the reason she punches Aasim If you dare him to kiss her is because she thinks he's playing a prank on her or something; she just finds it hard to believe that somebody would like her. (I love her, Ruby is my bae omg)

[emo-batboy]

i'd like the chart thanks!

Also, there's another person who wants to rp Leo, can they?

Okay a few people are asking for the chart so here’s the current chart!! (I took out some characters that are still not as fleshed out. That includes Nathan, Ria, Nina, Ashley, Zoe, Ray, Maggie, and the hater and Metropolis characters, but they’re all filler characters rn)

A Wild Battinson Character Lore Continuity

- Felicity

- Oldest of the bunch, right between Millennial and Gen Z

- Works at an office, besties with everyone there. Corporate girlie (does use the term girlboss)

- Like if a Gothamite/Bruce Wayne fan was swiftie-coded?

- She has a pet pitbull, you know that kind of white girl

- Tatum

- Goth U, Comp Sci major

- Keeps everyone he knows online at arms length so we don’t know much, has a small close knit friend group irl but he’s also mutuals with everybody on twitter because he’s that kinda guy yk?

- But they’re slowly convincing him. He’s getting there

- Marzia

- Oh god poor Marzia

- Italian, born in Northern Italy, English is her second language but you wouldn’t be able to tell if it weren’t for her slight accent

- Biggest Bruce Wayne stan, will go feral, but only gets replies from him at the worst moments possible

- *snorts like cocaine* “Please don’t do cocaine” is my personal favorite

- Goth U, she gives art major vibes but tacked on a double major in psychology last minute so now she’s staying a fifth year

- Reads smut, writes smut, part of the poetry club, def on booktok, you know the type

- Alejandro

- Runs an ice cream stand in the park on the weekends when it’s warm enough

- Bi, Dating Leo (pfp is them holding hands because he’s a whipped son of a bitch)

- He’s like if that normal-looking kind of athletic guy who always wore sweatshirts and basketball shorts to class just suddenly mentioned he had a boyfriend one day.

- He’s straight-coded but more specifically “the straight guy that gay guys have crushes on against their better judgement”-coded

- Knew the whole time he was bi but never REALLY liked a guy until Leo 🥺. whenever he looks at Leo, he’s got those madly in love eyes

- Thinks Batman is hot and suffers constant torment from Leo (who has a crush on Bruce) because of it

- Ale just wants to be bench pressed is that too much to ask? But It’s his fault he’s a twunk dating a twink so—

- Goth U, Really interested in tech stuff but he’s actually a sports medicine major. He wants to be a physical therapist for athletes

- Cannot hold his liquor

- Smile Watch

- Who knows

- It’s a mystery

- Lela

- Goth Girl

- BFF’s with Nico (goth girl, e-boy solidarity)

- Also good friends with Natalie, they lined up all their gen Ed’s together

- Chill in a Morticia Addams kinda way. She is Morticia Addams actually

- Mom owns a convenience store, she helps out after classes a lot

- Studied for the MCAT, did pretty well, she wants to be a doctor (probably neurosurgeon but it depends on what internship she gets)

- Currently completing the undergrad to grad program at Goth University with a masters in public health

- Natalie

- Former intern, now ASSISTANT at Wayne Press

- Got the job because she impressed Bruce with her good reporting skills, now works mostly on organizing press releases and maintaining Bruce’s public image

- Great at her job because she knows social media and Bruce Wayne Stans the best (she is one obv)

- (Babysits Bruce when Alfred is busy, how did this happen, why is this her job now? She’s tired of his shit lol)

- Still technically working part-time because she hasn’t gotten her degree yet, but she’s set to work full time after she graduates Goth U in May

- Sometimes while sitting at her desk she just gets that perspective shift where she’s like “how did I get here” Bruce Wayne Stans’ dreams do come true

- Caleb 🤡

- Literally 18/19 but aging faster than humanly possible with the stress he’s under

- Used to work at Bat Burger, left because the babysitting gig required more time

- Lives with his aunt who’s already retired (used to live alone, she never had kids or a husband so she’s loaded) He’s staying cuz his parents are super busy and travel for work :) and guess what crime-filled alley their window overlooks? I’ll give you one guess

- Babysits Tim, used to be a less serious gig but his parents have been out of town a lot lately (just vacationing without their child 🙄) and thankfully Caleb lives right across from their swanky apartment so he’s practically a nanny now (read: older sibling/third parent)

- Took a ton of childcare courses for this job and now he’s kind of interested in working at a daycare maybe? If Tim doesn’t kill him in his sleep first

- Recently graduated Goth High, now takes online classes at Goth Community College while deciding what to do with his life

- Jarod

- Recently graduated Goth High, now taking a gap year before starting GothU in the fall. Him and Caleb were always in the same classes so they’re super close (they’re the youngest)

- Future Comp Sci/English major (he wants to be a video game writer)

- Has a younger sister, and technically the oldest child but spiritually he’s the middle child.

- His parents and Priyanka’s parents are close friends so he kind of grew up seeing Priyanka as an older sister. That’s why they’re Like That.

- Literally so fed up with Priyanka, it’s not even funny (yes it is) but the second you’re rude to Priyanka, he will deck you, watch yourself

- Katie (Sweater Thief)

- ER Nurse at Gotham General Hospital, mostly does night shifts

- Gives chronically online energy when she’s online, but everyone in real life wouldn’t suspect a thing because she’s so good at having her life together (the code switch will give you whiplash)

- Surprisingly older than most of the others despite being Like That.

- Literally graduated with a 4.2 GPA how tf?

- BFF’s with Leo then became BFF’s with Ale too after they started dating (she is slowly corrupting Ale and I think that’s beautiful)

- Creator of the Babygirl Bruce Wayne Agenda and PROUD

- Priyanka

- Works at coffee shop owned by her mom called Caffe Mood. She plans to run it one day. Currently a barista

- Goth U, business major (accounting)

- Bilingual, knows Hindi

- LESBIAN QUEEN

- Despite being gay, She is allowed to think Bruce Wayne is hot, that is her Right

- Mad fucking crush on Georgia, calls her Georgie. Intends to never tell a soul. Will fail miserably

- Dead fucking set on the idea that Batman’s a vampire

- But she thinks everyone’s a vampire so—

- Her parents and Jarod’s parents are close friends so she kind of grew up seeing Jarod as a younger brother. That’s why they’re Like That

- Jarod is constantly on her nerves, wtf Jarod (but be mean to him and she’ll kill you)

- Leo

- Works at bookstore called Gotham City Bookstore

- Gay, Dating Alejandro

- Twink (derogatory)

- Swears his gaydar is the most accurate there is (always wrong)

- Made being gay his entire personality because he had an identity crisis in middle school and proceeded to have a massive crush on some straight guy all of high school (that guy was Ale, Leo’s gaydar is so off)

- BFF’s with Katie despite being a few years younger. They were in a high school production of Sweeney Todd together and the rest was history

- Calls every single celebrity gay as a joke, Ale reigns him in if he’s getting too out of hand

- Used to have a mad celebrity crush on Bruce, still kinda (definitely) does

- Attends GothU, undecided for a while but ultimately settled on mathematics because it’s ironically his best subject

- One of those mf’s that needs to be held back at all costs, god help Ale

- Rose 🌹

- Works a tailoring job full time

- Good friends with Felicity, she’s like the black cat to Felicity’s golden retriever

- 70% super nice and chill, 30% wild card party girl

- Gets drinks with friends a lot, tweets when drunk but no one can tell the difference. It’s amazing

- Does not seem horny, is horny. But like normal about it? If that’s a thing

- Nico

- Kinda plays the straight man of the group if the straight man was emo

- BFF’s with Lela (e-boy, goth girl solidarity)

- KING of twitter roasts. He makes memes to end lives.

- Pansexual, single, and probably writing bad poetry in his diary about it but don’t tell anyone

- Goth U, actually dunno the major. Probs public health with Lela but doesn’t want to be a doctor. More like research parallel to social sciences

- Has a 8/9yo sister named Madelaine whom he would die for despite not expecting to be an older brother so late in the game (what were his parents thinking)

- Has tea parties with her and all that jazz. She steals his eyeliner and chain accessories all the time, also she’s friends with Dick and Barbie (yes, Barbara Gordon) so sometimes he watches over their play dates

- He’s a “tough emo boy” so he totally doesn’t laugh at Madelaine’s puns. He’s a bitch ass liar

- Kellyanne

- GothU, marine biology. Transferred from GCCC with an associates degree to save money but now she’s got a full ride cuz of the WE higher education fund

- More recent Bruce Stan

- Pretty poor upbringing, that’s how she met Bruce Wayne. He bought her whole family groceries one night after her card declined at the convenience store trying to buy dinner

- Now she’s in it for the long haul :)

- Lia

- GothU, fashion merchandising

- A GIRL’S GIRL

- Older sister also attends Goth U, but she’s in med school

- More recent Bruce Wayne stan, still not particularly in with the culture and jokes but getting there

- Friends with Georgia and Elizabeth irl. Elizabeth was in the same sorority before graduating first. Got to know Georgia after Lia found her dog with Bruce at the park outside GothU. They party together now

- Elizabeth

- Graduated GothU last May and worked an internship at LexCorp, immediately regretted it but snagged a job at WE (thank god)

- Now works as a research assistant at Wayne Tech in the R&D department for commercial products

- Didn’t really get the whole Bruce Wayne Stan thing until Bruce Wayne personally wished her a happy birthday?? The man is so sweet?

- Absolutely loves her job but still screams at rubber ducks over faulty code in her little cubicle, but that’s the industry she chose so it’s a give and take

- Met Natalie through Stan twitter and now they DM each other about working at Wayne Enterprises

- Doesn’t post much on twitter but follows the main Bruce Stan accounts, irl friends with Lia and Georgia

- Georgia

- Has a dog named Bean

- GothU, majoring in like three languages, polyglot (including Hindi 😏)

- Works at a retail home decor kinda store (home goods?)

- So lesbian-coded, but does not know it yet. Priyanka is her gay awakening. She is now a regular at Caffe Mood (She thinks she just likes the coffee (yeah right))

- Works at Goth U’s admissions department over the summer too

- Once got drunk and locked herself onto a roof by accident, ended up hanging out with Batman (he offered to break into her apartment for her but she said “nah”)

- Jane

- Works at Wayne Enterprises

- Runs bring your kid to work day (idk what her actual job is but she’s an Essential Worker, okay?)

- Very sweet, 10/10, looks on the bright side but never in a toxic positivity way

- Super social too, became work friends with Bruce because she’s nice but not draining to his social battery? They have lunch on occasion

- Watched the Graysons die with Bruce, call that trauma bonding

- Watched her toxic ex’s car burn to a crisp after a joker spree and took a selfie with it (she can have a little revenge, as a treat)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

"Patti Smith on the biggest misconception about her...:

"The thing that bothered me the most was when I had to return to the public eye in ’95 or ’96 when my husband died. We lived a very simple lifestyle in a more reclusive way in which he was king of our domain. I don’t drive, I didn’t have much of an income, and without him, I had to find a way of making a living. Besides working in a bookstore, the only thing I knew how to do was to make records—or to write poetry, which isn’t going to help put your kids through school. But when I started doing interviews, people kept saying “Well, you didn’t do anything in the 80s,” and I just want to get Elvis Presley’s gun out and shoot the television out of their soul. How could you say that? The conceit of people, to think that if they’re not reading about you in a newspaper or magazine, then you’re not doing anything. I’m not a celebrity, I’m a worker. I’ve always worked. I was working before people read anything about me, and the day they stopped reading about me, I was doing even more work. And the idea that if you’re a mother, you’re not doing anything—it’s the hardest job there is, being a mother or father requires great sacrifice, discipline, selflessness, and to think that we weren’t doing anything while we were raising a son or daughter is appalling. It makes me understand why some human beings question their worth if they’re not making a huge amount of money or aren’t famous, and that’s not right. My mother worked at a soda fountain. She made the food and was a waitress and she was a really hard worker and a devoted worker. And her potato salad became famous! She wouldn’t get potato salad from the deli, she would get up at five o’clock in the morning and make it herself, and people would come from Camden or Philly to this little soda fountain in South Jersey because she had famous potato salad. She was proud of that, and when she would come home at night, completely wiped out and throwing her tip money on the table and counting it, one of her great prides was that people would come from far and wide for her potato salad. People would say, “Well, what did your mother do? She was a waitress?” She served the people, and she served in the way that she knew best." from Alan Light interview in Medium Thanks Thatericalpter.com

[kidstemplatte]

random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

[answer2jeff]

not a lot, just forever.

carmen's opening up, but he wishes you'd do the same.

warnings: fluff + angst. fem!reader who is also a big reader (mostly poetry) and occasionally journals. unestablished relationship (friends to lovers, mutual pinning.) very touchy-feely. writing is overly detailed and so painfully poetic you might vomit.

word count : 2.4k

hey. i think i left my book at ur place. 11:15pm.

sorry, just got home. i can bring it over now 11:36pm.

oh yeah that'd be great! thank you. (sorry for the inconvenience) 11:38pm.

no worries 11:41pm.

lmk when ur here. xx 11:45pm.

Carmen had some idea of what that meant: xx. He knew what it meant when girls signed notes with xoxo in replacement of red kiss marks and strokes of long acrylic nails through their secret lovers hair—not that he ever received one, no. But your occasional visits practically felt just as intoxicating. If the order was x-o-x-o, and the worded statement being hugs-and-kisses, then xx must've been hugs, right? Two hugs. Like the one you shared the first time you met at Natalie's baby shower. He smelled like authentic Italian cologne with a hint of cigarette smoke diluted by dish soap and warm water. His grasp was hesitant, but ever-all-consuming once his shoulders relaxed. It was like metamorphosis. The way he wrapped his arms underneath while you tossed yours up around his neck, his gold chain feeling cold and hard against your skin, unlike the rest of him.

He was an under-hugger. He kept the ones he cared for unsuspectingly close to him. Such physical touch felt familiar. Maybe you'd just remembered stories and inside jokes about him through Natalie so well his tenderness and anxious nature was fitting to the idea of him you had in your head.

That was almost 6 months ago. And surprisingly, you'd become pretty good friends. Not that either of you really did friends at your age...but somehow it worked. You'd come to realize that he was so much kinder than anyone painted him out to be. And yet, you never really talked about yourselves.

Not in a way that really mattered, anyway.

The articles you'd written, the interviews you conducted with snobby assholes, the dozens of freelancing jobs with horrific schedules you had before, what you loved about writing and what you hated about the world around you—those were topics of discussion. Carmen's favorite restaurants he ever expanded his career with, the odd relationship he had with his sister that flipped like a rusty switch after highschool, candle scents he loved and bought over and over again despite their poor quality wicks, the first time he got drunk and how he swore he'd never let another drop of alcohol touch his tongue—those were normal methods of late night conversations.

But what about your dream to publish a novel? Or the memoir you read that completely changed your views on love as a whole. What about Carmen's uncle being his only friend his entire life? Oh, how he would've become a starving, broken artist if he ever believed he had enough talent for it. Hell, what about the girl you met in middle school who mysteriously moved away and shared all her secrets on the true meaning of life, death, and everything in between? Why didn't you ever talk about those things? Maybe it was too close, too personal. If he knew you too well, maybe he'd see you as you saw yourself.

Carmen had been thinking about those colored pencils you bought him for his birthday and can't get himself to tell you he uses them every day. Not just to illustrate his dishes...but you, sometimes. Your hair, your smile. He used that photo you begged him to snap of you staring out your window melodramatically with a bowl of pasta carbonara and a glass of bubbling champagne in front of you as reference. How could he ever show you the endless amount of pages containing the essence of your existence in that goddamn sketch book?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Thoughts of potential ate away at your patience with every pacing step you took around your bedroom.

Answers. Answers. Answers.

—

"Do people even have deep conversations over pasta and wine anymore?" You trace the pad of your middle finger against the rim of your glass, your elbow propped up on the counter so your chin can rest in your hand.

Carmen draws his eyebrows together, the little crinkle in his forehead showing. You glance up at it and struggle to stifle a growing smile. He cocks his head before barring his bottom lip behind his teeth, picking at the skin with the tips of his fingers. That signature pose; where his left arm is crossed against his chest and his hand holds the elbow of his right arm. It's a habit you almost immediately picked up on. It told you time and time again that he was nervous.

Thinking. Contemplating.

"Is that, like—" he breaths a chuckle, but it comes out more as an accidental huff than anything. Smug bastard, he is. Especially when he drags his gold chain across his neck as it loops around the finger that once picked at the dry skin of his mouth.

"Your way of..asking me for a deep conversation over wine and pasta?"

Ah. He's called you out. The one thing he couldn't shake was his annoyance when you were so completely and utterly vague about your wants, your needs, your desires. Hell, Carmen Berzatto would wrap a lasso around the moon, or any planet you put your claim on, and drag it down so it could be yours and only yours. Only if it meant you'd stop feeling so complacent. You knew this. At least to some extent. His little favors buttered you up until you a mushy mess of adoration. What really scratched at your urges and your patience was how blissfully unaware he was of his show of affection toward you. Part of you feared that if you ever told him how much it caressed that bruised, fruit fly infested, rotted spot of your heart so gently it felt like a kiss, despite the sting, he'd stop.

"Y'know what? Yeah. I'm asking."

You shrug your shoulders and stare down at your nearly finished bowl of penne with vodka sauce. Stabbing a stack of pasta onto your fork and the clinking sound of the metal banging against the ceramic bowl seemed to fill the silence before Carmen finally spoke again, though with much hesitation.

"Okay," he barely whispers, nodding his head and fumbling to take a seat in the barstool underneath the counter. Sitting across from you gives him the constant justification to just look at you.

Starting off this session with a question was quite a kicker.

"Y'know Sade Zabala? Author of that book you brought back for me."

Carmen blinks slowly. He pretends to dig deep in his memory to identify the name, wondering if you'd ever mentioned her. But he fails, pulling his lips taught, so as to say 'I've got nothin.' The sound of your dramatic sigh and the 'tsk' sound of your lips separating makes his palms sweat.

"She's a wonderful writer. A poet. I mean, really, her book Coffee and Cigarettes was one of the most gut-wrenchingly beautiful and altruistic collections of.. of love, pain, rejuvenation—all of it."

If he was completely honest, he doesn't have a clear image of what those words meant. But it doesn't seem to matter what comes out of your mouth or how you phrase it. Your use of specific language fascinates him. There is nothing else he can do in this moment but nod and allow the corners of his lips to curl into a smile strong enough to make the apples of his cheeks go pink.

"I'll tell you one line of one of the greatest poems she had ever written in that book. In the humble opinion of yours truly, of course."

"Sure," he assures you. "Of course, of course."

"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."

Saliva pools in your mouth as you speak the quote, the taste of every vowel washing down your throat as if you dedicate them to Carmen himself. Which, in bare and naked truth, you do. The only thing you could ever ask of Carmen was to let himself tear himself open with the hope and belief that you would crawl into his fears and convert them into profound discoveries. And the trust that you would not stitch him up with your own hands, but rather clasp your fists around the circumference of his wrists as he carefully closes the wound his trajectory of life has created.

"Wow." Carmen's eyes go another centimeter wider, the language still processing in his mind. He interprets it over and over again.

"I know. And—" you set your fork down so you can have complete focus as you recite your following question, "I was just wondering what you'd say if someone told you that, y'know? What would you tell them?"

Vulnerability, he thinks. Fuck.

"I mean...fuck that's—that's a good question. Um.." he chews on the flesh of his bottom lip once again, looking above at the warm glow of the light that hangs over your island counter as if he'll find the answer up there.

"I don't even like the good stuff about me, so. I'm not sure how to, like, articulate that? Is that the word?"

Now the quickening pace has started.

"And what do you think the good stuff about you is?"

Probing questions like this are somewhat too-close-for-comfort inquiries for friends. But Carmen would be stupid to mind it. He relishes in it, actually. With much guilt. But it's tainted with the secret pleasure of being cared for by someone he so deeply valued the opinions and thoughts of.

Since the first day you met, Carmen knew he would never go to anyone else for some piece of mind. For some sanity. Or even just for someone to explain the method to his madness. You understood it—what he believed.

"I care a lot, I think. But that's not always practical. It hardly ever is now that I think about it."

"You do. You care so much." You soften your tone, hesitantly reaching for Carmen's tattooed hand that rests on the cold marble counter.

"Sometimes it freaks me out."

"Like, this whole thing, the—the restaurant, where my life is right now, it makes me crazy. But it also keeps me..."

"Human," you finish.

"Yeah, human."

Though it takes him a couple seconds for his digits to not second guess themselves, he gently takes your hand in his. The slow pace in which he intertwines his fingers with yours is enough to kill you.

"Can I tell you something?" Carmen asks.

"Anything."

"You take good care of me. Of everyone, really." . His thumb gently rubs your warm skin, the rough and calloused mounds over his fingerprints soothing you. A deep breath moves in and out from his lungs as he meets your eyes again. This time, he won't look away.

"It's like you were made to just be good."

You smile, but you're not convinced you're certain on what he means. "Thank you, Carm. But—good?"

"I don't know. You're warm. I'm—I'm not like that. I'm not warm."

This, this is where truths as bare as untraveled paws of loyal dogs that roamed the streets in search of security uncover themselves.

"What? Of course you are." You lean forward, feeling your heart pound so hard it could leap out of your body.

"I don't think I am."

To think—no, to know that Carmen Berzatto cannot share at least one feature of his layered soul he genuinely likes. God, that pains you. You could write a million sonnets listing every little thing you adored about your friend.

"Carmen, you—" you sigh, your head dropping for a fraction of a second. "You have such a big heart. You're not cold or...or out of reach, or anything like that, okay?"

Even with Carmen's tendency for rage and his tattoos that displayed yet another callback to his culinary career—his way of speaking: so gentle and unsupported, you're certain that he is something so much greater than just a chef. He took care of people too. His staff, his clientele, his family—of you. Whether it was home cooked meals when you were sick, or when you needed to complain about Natalie. Carmen listened. Not as her brother, but as your friend. You don't really remember when you started to regularly see each other during his leisure. Either at the restaurant, or a coffee shop next door to your complex, and eventually his living room.

"This is so fucking selfish, but—"

No, Carmen. You could never be selfish.

But you let him be hungry. You want him to be hungry. Starving for reassurance. Because you'll feed him until the empty space in his existence is filled.

"I just wish you'd look after yourself the way you take care of me. Like, fuck, hearing you look at yourself and point out all this shit that nobody notices—which I wish they fucking would—because I notice them and I still love those things about you is..."

Oh, what a beautiful mind you've always had. He'll always store all the love you can't have for yourself in his own heart. Your wit, your intelligence, your smile, even down to the way you have to readjust the grip of your fountain pen as you inscribe your thoughts into your journal

"Wrong." He completed his thought with just one word. "I don't like it. It makes me sad," he says again.

That breaks you. So much that a tear sure to be followed by many more wells up in your waterline. The glisten of the salty liquid in your eyes startles the wonderful man across you. You can see the immediate guilt in his face, his blue eyes filled with concern and regret. But you shake your head, holding onto his forearm as he raises his hand to your cheek to catch the falling tear. Fuck being friends. Fuck small talk. Fuck jokes and laughs and cigarettes and poor communication that just ended in silence.

This was here and now. There was no going back.

With that, you cupped Carmen's own cheek, leaning closer and closer to his lips before he desperately kissed you. His free hand anchored itself on your shoulder blade while yours crawled to the back of his head to burry itself in his golden curls. Your taste was everything. Salty with pasta with a sweet aftertaste that echoed from your fruity lip balm, followed by a final twinge of bitterness from your glass of red wine. He tasted of comfort, of acceptance, something you'd never felt against your tastebuds from the previous years of the dating pool. With every separation of your lips to swallow gasps of air, the further the two of you hovered over the counter in a needy attempt to get closer.

You didn't need answers. Not a lot from him either. Just him. Forever.

tags: @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria @diorrfairy

[riiwrites]

Can you make something for Oda? Where he started seeing his s/o who also takes care of the orphans and are gifted as well, maybe able to sing a deadly lullaby, and when the orphans got killed his s/o takes down the Mimic instead, out of grief and rage by using their gift and maybe Oda comforting after that, then maybe they leave together to start a new. (this man seriously deserved better)

a quiet life

a/n : i actually couldn’t wait to write this idea, oda truly did deserve so much better. asagiri when i catch you oda is coming back in the next arc (trust it trust it!)

a/n : i found it quite odd i used 'mom' considering i’m scottish but oh well!

pairing : oda x gn!reader (reader is referred to as mom by kids)

genre : fluff at the beginning, angst angst angst

warnings : mentions of blood & murder

wc : 3k

masterlist taglist main page

"Don’t you think stars are a beautiful sight to gaze upon?"

Oda turns to you, a soft smile placed upon his features.

"Rather lyrical tonight, aren’t you?"

You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and a playful smirk on your face at his harmless comment

"Don't you enjoy my whimsical poetry?

“Indeed I do, but you only seem to talk like that when something is on your mind.”

You relax your expression and your smirk falters only to the same soft smile he gave you. You look down at the concrete below you as you begin to speak.

“Don’t you think a quiet life would be nice?”

Oda’s smile falls down to a small frown. He reaches from under your chin to lift your head up so you can face him.

“A quiet life?” He repeats, beckoning for you to elaborate.

“Yeah.” Your eyes follow his own as you look up at him. “A quiet life with the kids.”

“You mean the five children who are anything but the definition of peace and tranquillity?”

At this you laugh, your smile returning to your lips as you cock your head to the side with Oda’s hand still resting underneath your chin.

“Absolutely.” You say with such certainty. Oda smiles as his hand traces up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin ever so gently.

“I’m happy with the life we have currently of course, but..” You pause.

“But?”

“Don't you think having such a delicate part of your life along with such a tough part of it also could shatter everything in such a short bit of time?”

He frowns, understanding what you mean by your words.

“You mean my job, correct?”

You nod, letting out a soft sigh as you turn away from him, his hand no longer resting on your cheek as you look up at the night sky.

“I know I tell you this almost every night but you know I’m right, Oda. This mafia life you claim to have going for you isn’t great and it’s going to catch up on you sooner or later, no matter how much of a good person you are.” You truthfully say, giving him a look of hurt and worry.

Oda gives you a look with sympathy, him only nodding in understanding and turning to also look at the sky. A moment of silence passes through the wind before you continue.

“I just want us to be safe.”

“We will be.”

He brings down a hand to cup your chin once more, bringing it up to make you look up into his eyes.

“Do you remember that creative mind of yours describing to me what our future could be if you had the world in your hands?”

You think for a few moments, recollecting your thoughts until you eventually find that fond memory.

“To build a cabin house with six bedrooms, around four windows placed in each room alongside the kitchen..” You whisper.

“What else?” He urges

“One little TV placed on a cabinet table in the living room so the children can eat their home cooked meals with a proper working furnace, beside it being a cozy warm fireplace that’s well kept away from the children..” You giggle at your last comment.

“And?”

You pause, resting your cheek into his palm as tears fill your eyes, attempting to hold back your sorrow but when you imagine such a peaceful life with such ordinary requests that you can’t reach it becomes a bit difficult for you to maintain composure.

“A little baby room, for when we have our own one day..”

Oda smiles at this, rubbing his thumb up and across your cheek, wiping away the tear that threatens to fall from your waterline. He gives you the sweetest kiss on the forehead, his other hand coming up to rub the back of your head in a comforting manner.

“I want to sit in a room that overlooks the sea.” He says, now resting his forehead against yours. “A room where we can read to all of our children those stories I will write one day and those lullabies you will sing to them also.”

You look up to meet his eyes once more.

“Our children?”

There’s a moment of silence before he lets out a breathless chuckle escape his lips.

“Our children.”

More tears escape your eyes, you sniffle and wipe your tears as Oda wipes some more from his fingers.

“My beautiful partner..” He starts.

“My beautiful soon to be married..” He continues.

“We will be alright.”

You brush through Sakuras hair with one of her pretty pink hairbrushes she insisted on you using. You were helping each one of the children get ready for bed, each one having their own unique personality and behaviour to them.

Kōsuke, being the oldest out of all the orphans Oda took in. He always insists he can get ready himself, and although he can - he hates the rule of having to actually getting ready for bed specifically so it’s naturally your job to make sure he’s managed first.

Katsumi, the second hardest to actually help get ready for bed. Not because he can’t manage it, but simply because he would much rather play baseball outside even when it’s dark.

“I just don’t understand why you two would want to play out here after hours, especially when there’s creeps and bad things out here that lurk in the night..” You speak to the children from the balcony you were standing on, looking down at the two boys who were so persistent on an extra five minutes.

“What, bad things like monsters? Hah! I’m not five anymore! Those stories are stupid!” Kōsuke argues, crossing his arms as he stands stubbornly to clearly state he isn’t moving any time soon.

“Yeah! Plus, if any creepers came up to try and hurt us we’d beat them to a pulp!” Katsumi shouts, balling his fist and punching his baseball glove, his eyebrows furrowing and smiling mischievously, showing his missing tooth on his upper teeth. You giggle, propping your elbows up on the bannister and resting your chin on your hands as you stare fondly at the kids. You pout jokingly as you begin to speak.

“Well, it’s a shame really..I guess I’ll just have to sit all alone and read my lullabies to myself.”

At this Katsumi’s expression flickered into a change rather quickly, his eyebrows now furrowing in a sad manner as his demeanour changes within a flash.

“Hey wait!! I wanna listen to your lullabies Y/N!”

Kōsuke turns around to Katsumi, a look of betrayal written all over his face as he stomps his foot.

“Hey!! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“But Miss/Mister Y/N’s gonna be lonely..” He pouts.

“Uh- no, they’ll have Mr Oda to keep them company!”

“But I enjoy the lullabies..”

“Oh come now Katsumi it’s okay, just go on and get ready for bed kay?” You say with a sweet smile on your face, Katsumis face immediately lighting up as he runs up the stairs to the balcony and into the building.

Kōsuke watches in disbelief at Katsumi rushing off within an instant. He glares at you as you stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry like a child yourself as you turn around and beckon for him to come in, him following behind you without any hesitation with him mumbling and grumbling like the five year old he said he wasn’t.

Next was Yū, he wasn’t much of a bother considering how he was rather preoccupied with his games, although he sure liked to keep your mind busy with him joining the other boys antics and frequently sneaking his electronics into his bed so he could attempt to play them overnight, most of the time his plan fails.

“Yū..” You say with a quirked eyebrow, your hands on your hips as you stare at him from the bunk bed.

He turns to you with a sweet smile that could’ve fooled anyone, but not you.

“Yeah?”

“Give it.”

He tries to pull a confused expression, only making him look silly due to the fact he was trying not to smile whilst being caught in a lie.

“I don’t know what you could be talking about..“

“Miss/Mister Y/N, Yū hid his gameboy under his pillow!!”

“Sakura!!”

He groans in annoyance as you smirk, holding your hand out for him to give you the electronic, him complying with harsh movements as he grabs his pillow, lifts it, grabs the gameboy but places it in your hand ever so gently, crossing his arms and pouting. You pat him on the head with a soft smile, taking his hat off in the process.

“Bed, now.”

Now for the most competent one, Shinji. He was the sweetest and timid boy you ever met when you first started seeing Oda. Rather quiet and cautious with himself and around others but the more you got to know him, the more you saw just how easily comfortable he got with you.

“And no reading under the covers!” You say as you take the book from Shinji.

He nods with a sweet smile as he heads to bed. But before he gets into the covers, he pauses for a moment and stays there, almost seeming like he was hesitating to ask something. You stand as you watch his back freeze and you wait patiently for him to turn around and gain the courage. He turns around cautiously and fiddles with his little fingers before asking quietly.

“C-can you read me it..?” He asks kindly, pointing to the small picture book you took from him and then instantly looking down when he notices you glancing at the book and back at him. Your heart melts, a small pout forming on your lips as you smile.

“Of course, sweetheart. Come on let’s tuck you in.”

Oda doesn’t think Shinji’s ever smiled so brightly in his life.

Sakura was the quietest next to Shinji, although she had a bright and caring personality around everyone. It was kind of hard being the only girl out of all the kids for her, not being able to have the same interests as the boys all seem to have. Sure, she messed around with them and played tricks on Oda with their silly fake mafia style games, but she never actually had someone to talk about the things she really wanted to talk about or do - which is why she found the most comfort in you.

Which is where you are now, brushing her hair gently with the pretty pink hairbrush she so desperately “needed” you to use. She claims it makes her hair shine, you believe so too.

“Your hairs so pretty, Miss/Mister Y/N..” Sakura says with a cute smile as she stares at you through the mirror, seeming so mesmerised by you overall. You grin as you brush her hair so gently, not wanting to brush too hard through her tugs.

“Thank you, Sakura.” You say softly, looking down at her head so you don’t miss any unbrushed ends.

“I wish I had hair like you..” She tilts her head to the side slightly, kicking her feet back and forth on the chair she was sitting on. You furrow your eyebrows playfully, the smile still remaining on your lips.

“That so?”

“Yeah!” She beams.

“Well, what if I told you that I’d much prefer to have your hair?”

At this her face lights up brighter than before.

“Really??”

“Mhm.”

“But why?”

You stop brushing her hair for a moment before placing it on the desk of the bathroom, smiling and placing your chin on top of her head.

“Because it’s so perfect, silky smooth and is the best to style.”

She gets excited at this, bouncing up and down as she pats her legs.

“I really do like my pigtails..” She says with a bit of shyness.

“They’re beautiful on you dear.”

“You do them best though!!” She exclaims, giggling as you hug her gently.

“Hey Miss/Mister Y/N?” She says after a few moments of giggling.

“Yes, Sakura?”

There’s a little pause before she thinks of what to say.

“Are you technically my mommy?”

You stop for a second, practically freeze in place. You blink at your reflection in the mirror before you turn to look at her fully.

“What do you mean, dear?”

She shifts on her butt and turns around to now fully look at you, hugging her knees to her chest as she slowly continues to elaborate.

“I mean..you always take care of us..and you act like our mommy, and although i wouldn’t mind if you were my dad also..I’ve never had a mommy before..”

Your heart breaks at this. She was right, Oda was their father figure that was present in all of their lives from the beginning, saving them one by one from death and raising them up until now without any mother figure present. Although, Oda has clearly done an amazing job raising these kids you can’t help but have sympathy for all of them for feeling so..empty? You’re snapped out your thoughts quickly as you feel Sakuras tiny hand tug on your sleeve.

“Can I call you mommy?”

You pause, until a soft smile is placed on your lips and you lean in to kiss her forehead.

“Yeah, you can call me that.”

She smiles happily, now crawling up to you using her tiny hands to claw at your sleeves to help her get up to your lap. Now sitting on it she cuddles into you, feeling warmth on your chest as you smile happily, wrapping your arms around the small little girl as you rub her back soothingly.

“I love you mommy.” She says sweetly.

“I love you too dear.” You whisper softly, not knowing that Oda had been leaning against the door the entire time with the most heart warming smile ever present on his face.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away”

“Mom! Why do you always have to sing that one song? It’s getting boring now..” Katsumi whines, resting his cheek against the corner of the chair as he looks up at you.

“Yeah, it’s a stupid song..” Kōsuke grumbles, crossing his arms as he looks to the side in a huff.

“Hey, don’t be mean!! I love the song mommy, I do I do!!” Sakura beams, grabbing your leg with her hands as she begins to shake you in her grasp.

Oda chuckles at this, leaning against his hands from where he was sitting on the floor with the kids as you sat in the rocking chair, singing them lullabies before bed.

“I didn’t think you guys could be so opinionated. I remember back in the easy days where I’d just give you all a bottle of milk and you’d be content.”

“Hey! I am content!” Kōsuke retorts, glaring at Oda.

“Do you even know what that word means?” Katsumi asks.

“…”

“No.”

“Neither.”

“Okay but seriously! What’s the deal, mom? Why can’t you sing us another song?” Katsumi exclaims whilst Yū agrees.

“Yeah! I wanna know too!”

You tap your cheek with your finger a few times as you look up at the ceiling, pretending to look as if you were thinking before you looked down at Oda who was looking at you like a lovesick fool.

“Should I tell them?”

“Should you?”

“Should I?”

“STOP IT!!” Kōsuke shouts. “Just tell usss!” He groans.

You giggle. “Okay okay,” you say softly as you place your hands in your lap before you whisper gently.

“What if I told you all..that I had special powers?”

“Like super powers?” Yū asks, you nod. The children all beam at this, even little Shinji who was placed on Odas knee now hitting it in excitement along with Sakura on the other.

“Like Mr. Oda’s super powers..?” Shinji asks.

“Well, the same term - but not the same power.” You start.

“My ability, is to hypnotise those who dare to hear my lullabies..” You explain. “And unfortunately, due to my ability, I can’t sing specific songs to you guys because I don’t want to harm you all with my power, so I found that this song which you all liked seemed to work wonders!” You beam.

“Used to like, now it’s so overused..” Kōsuke groans.

“Be nice!!” Sakura snaps as she slaps Kōsuke on the leg.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Alright that’s enough..” Oda grabs Sakura and places her away from Kōsuke, who just mutters under his breath and sinks further into his pillow.

“Wait wait wait!” Katsumi holds up his hand as to say ‘pause’.

“Is that why whenever I hear your lullaby, I feel myself getting sleepy..?” His eyes widen as he speaks, as if he’s just had a realisation. Oda chuckles at Katsumis accusation.

“I don’t think that’s quite it, Katsumi..”

“No no!! It totally is!! Look at their creepy face!!” He screams out and points to your mischievous smirk as you look down at all the children to which they all squeal at this, now all attempting to hide behind Oda although Kōsuke on the other hand remains unfazed, staying in the same position in his pillow.

You laugh, breaking character completely. “Alright alright! No, Katsumi, I’m not hypnotising you to sleep.” You begin, reaching over to boop his nose. “You, are just naturally tired.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-huh!”

Oda picks up Shinji with one arm and Sakura with the other, smiling softly at the other older children. “Alright guys, time to sleep.”

They all groan.

“Nooo!! Please!” Sakura whines, kicking her feet in the air from where Oda’s holding her to which Oda ignores her pleas as he takes her and Shinji out the room, Yū and Katsumi trailing behind soon after, leaving you and Kōsuke alone.

You turn to Kōsuke to see him staring at the floor, seeming to be lost in thought.

“Something on your mind, Kōsuke?”

Kōsuke looks up at you and purses his lips together, muttering a little 'no' under his breath.

You know he’s lying, so you persist.

“Is it the song?”

“…”

“No, the songs fine..”

“I thought it was overplayed..”

“No!” He snaps. “I like the stupid song! I just hate how it makes me feel..” He says the last part quietly, you raise an eyebrow, looking down at him.

“How do you mean?”

“Just..makes me feel stupidly tired and..stupidly..-“

“Content?” You finish for him.

“..Yeah, whatever the hell that word means..”

You smile as he says one more thing. “I don’t want you to stop singing, your voice is nice, you’re nice.”

“I’m nice?”

“Mhm..”

Your smile only grows. You reach over and ruffle Kōsuke’s hair to which he slaps your hand away.

“Thank you for telling me that, Kōsuke..and for what it’s worth, I think you’re just as nice too.”

You actually see him smile, he sits up properly now.

“Can you sing me it one more time?”

“Tomorrow, love.”

“Okay.”

You think that would be the end of that while lasting moment, until he says one more thing.

“Thanks, mom.”

You turn to him as your health melts for the last and final time.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Little did you know, that would be the last and final time you’d ever sing that precious lullaby to your sweet babies before they were taken from you.

You were walking back from the grocery store, two bags full of sweet treats occupy your arms as you hum the same sweet melody you sang to your kids the previous night.

It wasn’t until you had reached around the corner you see..what is that, smoke? Coming from near the place the kids stay. ‘That’s strange' you thought, maybe the chef had burned something? He’s always one to make mistakes, or so you thought.

You hear police sirens, ambulance sirens and even..screams? You recognise it within an instant ; Oda. Your eyes widen as you begin to rush over to the scene, only to find your boyfriend on his hands and knees, practically sobbing his heart out and screaming his lungs up at the ground as he’s infront of a blown up van. You rush over and kneel down to Oda, dropping one of your groceries to touch his face.

“Oda, baby, what’s happened talk to me please, are the kids okay..?!”

That question made his stomach churn, and he turns his head up to finally look at you, and he looks traumatised and absolutely broken, although it doesn’t answer your question, so you repeat it.

“Are the kids okay..?”

“…”

“Oda..”

“…”

“Oda, god don’t do this to me tell me the kids are okay..”

Oda shakes his head, tears now streaming down his face as he lets out choked sobs inbetween his next words.

“Y/N..I-I’m so sorry..I tried..I tried to keep them safe I just-..I didn’t..”

Your heart drops, your eyes widen even more as realisation hits you like a truck.

You stand up and slowly walk over to the van which is now been surrounded by yellow and black caution tape. You look down at the floor and see blood, lots and lots of blood and one thing that truly confirms your fears makes your heart break.

Kōsuke’s sunglasses rested on the floor covered in smoke confirms absolutely everything.

You drop your groceries, your body shaking with fear, sadness, and anger. You fall to the floor You fall to the floor on your knees as your breathing becomes heavy, little gasps escaping your throat as your throat closes up, your hand covering your mouth as you sob, Oda within a flash is now by your side as hes also on his knees, cradling you and hugging you so close to his chest that he’ll think you’ll disappear from him anytime soon.

“I’m so sorry..I’m so sorry..” He repeatedly whispers, sobbing into your hair as you sob loudly into his chest, both of your hearts hurting so much full of grief and woe.

“My babies..they were my babies..” Your screams are muffled by Oda’s jacket as you breath heavily into it, hyperventilating hard.

You dig your nails into his shirt, tears staining it as you claw as if you were looking for answers, looking for practically anything as to find any source as to say 'Hey, this is a dream' but no, you were right infront of it, the truth.

Your babies were gone.

Days later…

Oda was sitting on the same rocking chair you once sat on when you read and sang those cherish-able words and lullabies to the children. He stares at his feet, in such a grave state of confusion, denial and depression. You had been AWOL for the past few days now, Oda giving you your personal space as he doesn’t want to overstep or push you any further but oh what he would do to be basked in your affection and comfort right now, it was all he needed. He fears if he’s alone for any longer he may do something drastic. That is until..a creak from the door let’s him escape his thoughts.

Blood, the first thing he sees. You covered in blood, your face and body and hands all covered in someone else’s blood made his own run cold, his eyes widen as he sees your hurt expression, you both look into eachother eyes knowing how much you were both truly hurting.

It wasn’t until you dropped to your knees, grabbing the covers of one of the children’s bunk beds Oda gets out his seat swiftly dropping down and hugging you tightly, a little similar to a few days ago. He lets you let it all put, god knows you both need it. You sob and sob until your heart lets out everything you had left to offer, because what else was there left to give? Everything you once had was taken from you within a second, something so delicate, so fragile ; shattered.

“I killed him.” You start, Odas heart drops.

“You killed who..?” He whispers.

“The bastard who took our babies..” You seethed.

Oda notices your voice and how hoarse it was, and that’s when he realises the painful truth. You had used your ability, a deadly lullaby, to kill the mastermind of the plot to take away your children.

“Baby..it’s okay..please j-“

“Run away with me.”

“..what..?”

“You heard me goddamnit, run away with me Oda what the hell are we waiting for?!” You scream out. Your voice, raspy and breaking from the previous moments you ripped that disgusting man’s life away from his throat and body.

“We’ve been sitting, imagining and talking but why not live it already? Nobody’s stopping us!”

“My job is stopping me, Y/N-“

“No the hell it isn’t, stop bullshitting it!! You can quit, you can be free, Dazai will be fine he can come visit us and whatnot the kid will be the boss by twenty-three you know it, I know it..!”

You grab his face into your hands, his cheeks becoming covered in blood from how dirty your own were. With wide eyes you whisper, desperation and need evident within your voice as you plea.

“Please, for me, for the kids..”

Oda looks at you in disbelief, his breathing shaky as he stares at you with wide eyes staring into yours.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, you’re hurting..”

“So are you, but we can heal.”

A pause.

“And..hey, what way to start that goddamn journey by building a cabin house..?” You let out a breathless laugh, Oda laughs with you, resting his forehead against yours as he finally whispers.

“With a room that just overlooks the sea..”

2 years later…

The waves crashing against the shore make a perfect combination with the melody you now sing in the depths of your dark brown clattered cabin.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away”

“Please don’t take my sunshine away..” You whisper once more with such genuine feeling before you plant a kiss on your gorgeous newborns head, stroking her head as she sleeps peacefully in your arms as you rock back and forth amongst the rocking chair.

You hear a few creaks from the floorboards and from your husband, who carefully steps out of his writers room as he doesn’t want to wake up his child.

“Hey.” You whisper.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“What you doing in there?” You say softly as you nod your head to the writers room hes just emerged out of.

“Working on my book.”

You nod, smiling as you look down at the baby, then back at your husband.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask, what’s it about?”

Oda cautiously walks up to you and kneels down next to you, stroking his baby’s head with the back of his hand.

“Just, how having such a delicate life along with a tough part of it also has its consequences and could shatter everything within a short space of time.”

“Rather melodramatic tonight, are you not?

“Don’t you enjoy my whimsical poetry?”

You smirk as he smiles, before he stands back up and glances out at the window, holding his hands behind his back. You stand up, being extra careful with your movements as you approach Oda and stand beside him. He opens the window wide open, revealing the night sky and the sound of the waves crashing down on the shore. You glance up at the night sky, looking up amongst all the beautiful stars scattered across the horizon, that is until something caught your eye.

Out of all the stars you saw, five took your fancy. Five stars shined proudly upon the horizon as they shined together and with no other star before, at this you smile, tears slowly filling your eyes as you nudge Oda gently.

“They’re beautiful to gaze upon, don’t you think?”

Oda looks up at the sky and instantly knows what you’re talking about and he smiles, his heart aching but healing it’s wounds just by looking at the scenery little by little.

“Yeah, they sure are.”

TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101

@riiwrites