#and i had to seek her out MYSELF afterward to ask how i could make up my grades

[deanpinterester]

sometimes i think about the time i failed a midterm (and i mean failed in a literal sense, not like "aw i got a B+") while i was in an enriched high school program where everyone else was getting A's. in hindsight it should have been clear i needed help and i was struggling. but all the teacher said was to try harder next time

[waitingtobreatheagain]

One of my favorite parts of the argument outside the Modiste scene is one although it starts harsh/angry…it becomes vulnerable and communicative very quickly. This is due to the core of their relationship. They are each other’s favorite person. No one understands the other more or in the way they do. Even through the hurt, the love is so so apparent.

It is a great example of how anger is a secondary emotion and in this case the primary emotion are emotions related to feeling emotionally hurt.

People say all they had was miscommunication and that is absolutely not true. You wanted them to be all good in five seconds and that was never going to be the case. Two weeks to process what felt like a betrayal, work through it, and work through your own insecurities that could impact your relationship in the future is NO SMALL THING. Not to mention, Colin repeatedly shows his love even in his anger hurt and confusion.

My absolute favorite thing about the scene (and proof of them still having good conversation even while being on the outs) is Colin doing something that Eloise never did. He actually asks Penelope WHY she wrote what she wrote. Even in feeling his most hurt, he seeks understanding. He knows Pen better than anyone (as she does him) and he really needs to identify how and why his most favorite person in the world, the love of his life, could do this. After discussing it, he is still upset which again is fair but he does understand and knows that she is still who he has always know her to be.

To be vulnerable when you’re hurt instead of hurtful also so emotional maturity. Yes, we know their first time seeing each other after the reveal he says something hurtful but he immediately regrets it which is made evident by Luke Newton’s skill in facial expression. He even asks Pen’s questions which she agrees with and identifies why she couldn’t do those things back when she wrote about specific things (I.E. “why didn’t you just tell me to my face” “I know I should have I didn’t have the confidence to then”).

And the part where we see his insecurity about his writing skill and the biggest insecurity being deserving of her on full display. Colin has grown up feeling as if he has to be so many things for so many people to be able to feel worthy. Just being himself has never felt like enough so it makes complete sense that he cannot honestly fathom that his favorite person…the love of his life…loves him simply for being him. That’s beyond belief for him. That is why the “what good am I to you, then (if I can’t protect you) and Pen’s response of I love you is so important. We see Pen’s face go from on guard, defensive, and some indignation to soft and empathetic. She is truly seeing the insecurity and similarly to how Colin couldn’t believe that Pen had no chance of romance when she asked him to kiss her…Pen can’t believe that Colin thinks he can only be loved by her if he is in service of her or has utility. His reaction to her I love you also support Colin is demisexual theories. The affirmation that she does not need him to protect her or do all these things for her and instead just has to be the man she loves is the catalyst for the passion and desire we see him kiss her with afterwards As to say, that’s right. This is the only relationship in my life where I am able to fully be myself, where I am loved for who I am, where I am uplifted, understood, seen, and valued based on my true self not based on who society says I should be, where my vulnerability and emotional intelligence is seen as a strength and not a deficit, etc.

That is so beautiful to me.

This goes back to why for me Polin will always be the pinnacle. The depth of their relationship following years of friends especially as they got closer sets up how they work through conflicts. There are so many parallels when looking at Colin helping Pen work through her insecurity with her confidence and appearance and Pen helping Colin work through his insecurity with self doubt and feeling deserving/worthy of his love.

Truly, a love that is a beautiful as it is rare.

[sotwk]

Hello, you wonderful, thoughtful, sneaky busybody! I’ve read the letter that you snuck into my room—in fact I may have read and reread it until my eyes went crossed. I can hardly believe you took such risks for me, spying on Lord Eomer and taking his private writing—but I’m certainly glad you did.

Grateful as I am, I have another favor to ask of you—though I know you’ll accept gladly, given your love for meddling in other people’s business. I have a letter for Lord Eomer—oh, Bema help me, I knew you’d be insufferably smug about it. Yes, you were right—you’ve been right all along! Are you happy now? 

I know what you’ll ask next, and yes. If you must, you can take a peek—I suppose I owe you that much, since you were the one who brought me his letter in the first place. Just make sure he gets this, won’t you? I won’t be able to rest until he does.

.

.

.

Lord Eomer,

Last night, my friend gave me a curious gift: a letter, crumpled, torn, and painstakingly pieced back together. A letter written and nearly destroyed by your own hand. I do hope you can forgive her actions—for my part, I have never been more grateful for her meddling.

I was determined Forgive my penmanship. My hands have not stopped shaking since I read your words.

I was determined to speak to you at once. I’d decided to sneak to the Golden Hall and throw pebbles at your window until you awoke. Would you believe that I’d donned my cloak and had a foot out the door, with no thought that midnight had long since passed, when my mother caught me and herded me to bed like an errant foal? Trapped in my room as I was, I resolved to write to you instead.

I slept not at all. 

For months, I have endured the attention of the suitors my parents paraded before me. Foolish man, had you made known even a word of that letter to me, I would have sent them all away without a second thought!

I am—I was resigned to do my duty to my family. But you cannot think I wanted to marry one of those men! If ever I smiled at them, I was thinking of you. If ever I looked attentively at them, I was studying their faces seeking some trace of you. 

I underst  Bema, my quill grows unsteady again. You cannot know what your words have done to me.

I understand your reservations, truly. But I am of a mind with your cousin, that our duties need not rule us entirely. Nor must they be the enemy of our hearts.

Do you recall the midsummer feast last year, when you asked me to dance? We spoke afterwards in the garden below the north balcony. I don’t recall a word of our conversation, for you had kissed the back of my hand when our dance was done and I could think of nothing else. You must have known how your touch would haunt me, how I would drive myself mad with thoughts of how your lips might — 

Bema, I am not myself this morning! But there, you see? I do not cross out words in regret, not when I mean them. 

I will be waiting in that garden tonight, at sundown. If you have the courage to stand by the words you tried so desperately to destroy—if, Bema help me, you are as seized by your passions as you claim—you will meet me there. I make no demands of you. Only that you speak the truth to me, without reservation, as I am doing now. 

Enough of prudence, enough of patience! What good have those miserable words ever done us?

I don't know if you will receive this letter in time (don't know how legible it will be, I have never scrawled so fast in my life), but even with the hour being late, I HAD to write and reassure you that:

I survived reading it, though it got hairy there for a second, my poor heart was not ready.

I delivered the letter.

I did more spy-work and lingered in the halls all morning until I was sure Eomer had returned to his rooms and found it.

I got caught. No, no, not by him, thank Bema. By the other one.

No worries, I handled it. He went all high and mighty, telling me I "should not meddle so much", but he didn't rat me out right there. He went into Eomer's room and chatted with him for a good while. Alas, door was too thick for me to hear a peep. Why are these doors so damn heavy.

I managed to corner him later on, but he wouldn't confirm anything other than that Eomer read your words. I then rushed off to get this note to you, but I'm gonna run back to talk Theodred's ear off until he spills everything. I don't care if he is the Prince. I know for a fact that he meddles as much as I do if not more, that sweet hypocrite.

Please just show up in the garden as you said you would and this would all be worth it I'm sure. I'll meet you on the other side, girl! GO GO GO!!!

Tagging parties who are probably interested in this crazy drama: @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @morethantheycansay @emmanuellececchi @celeluwhenfics

For the other confused readers:

The "Anon" who wrote the gorgeous letter in response to my own "Letter from Eomer" is actually the incredibly talented @scyllas-revenge. It started as a letter writing Ask Game, and is now blowing up into a co-written Eomer x unnamed OC fic.

I've posted my work of Eomer's letter as a ficlet on Ao3 called "A Salvaged Letter", but now I'm probably expanding that into a SMALL multi-part fic. We'll see. Now that I've pulled my beloved Theodred into it, it's hard to resist the urge to write more.

Oh, and the busybody gossipy friend will definitely be an OC self-insert of yours truly. Shamelessly, I'm doing that.

[spicymushroomz]

Mess Ups

Leander Prewett x Reader

Summary: Reader works up the courage to ask Leander Prewett out after 2 years of liking him.

Word Count: 978

Warnings: None

*NOT PROOFREAD

Authors Note: this is my first fic! Please enjoy

You had been going to Hogwarts for only 2 years, and a lot has certainly happened. But the most confusing thing of them all had to be the boy you found yourself in love with.

Leander Prewett. A tall, freckled, red-headed boy in Gryffindor. He was the prefect, and had a tendency to brag. The catch was that he messed up quite a lot. You found it quite endearing.

Your first time seeing him had been in DADA where he and Sebastian Sallow had started dueling. Leander had almost gotten a giant skull dropped on him. If not for Professor Hecat. Your first official meeting however, was in Herbology where he had volunteered to show you the chinese chomping cabbages.

He walked behind you, letting you lead the way as he complimented your dueling against Sebastian in DADA.

“That was quite the duel. It’s nice that somebody finally put Sallow in his place. I would’ve done it myself if not for Professor Hecat.” At his compliment you felt your cheeks flush.

“Thank you Leander. It was actually my first time dueling.” You replied, unable to look him in the eye.

“That’s quite impressive. I hope to see more of your dueling feats.” He said, unaware of the way your heart seemed to leap out of your chest.

That day changed many things for you. As you found yourself catching feelings and constantly seeking out Leander. You thought he was charming. You thought he was charming. His smile, his laugh. You especially loved how even if he failed he still tried again.

Your friends did not share this sentiment.

“Prewett? Really?” Asked Natty in disbelief.

Imelda nodded her head. “I have to agree with Natty. He’s a bumbling idiot, and a fool. He probably puts his shoes on the wrong foot.”

You argued back. “I think he’s dashing. So what if he messes up, don’t you think he’s just adorable?”

They simply looked at you.

You sighed. “He’s very brave. Even though he messes up, even if he’s teased, he still tries. That makes him so very valuable to me.”

You reminisced on a time in your 6th year, when a group of Gryffindors laughed at you for messing up a simple wiggenweld potion.

“What kind of idiot messes that up?” One asked.

“How can the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ be such a dud?” said another.

You thought it was stupid that it bothered you, it shouldn’t have. You’ve fought trolls and hordes of goblins. You didn’t need the approval of some jealous Gryffindors, and yet you still found yourself crying under a tree afterwards.

Their scrutiny hurt. After all you had done for this school people still didn’t like you. It pained you.

As you sat with your knees against your chest looking at the ground, you felt someone sit next to you. It was Leander. You quickly wiped your tears, embarrassed he had found you in such a state.

“O-Oh Hello Leander.” you said nervously, glancing at him. He looked at you with furrowed brows. “What are you doing here?”

“Garreth told me what happened in potions. Don’t listen to those twats.” He said, looking at the ground in frustration.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t really matter.” You told him. Your heart fluttered at the fact he came to find you.

. “It’s not okay. How could they say that to you?” He turned to look at you. “After everything you’ve done for this school, tf they made fun of you for something as simple as a failed wiggenweld potion then there’s no hope for the rest of us.” he chuckled sadly.

“You’re very sweet.” You told him. Your mind felt lighter at his reassurance.

“I’m jealous of you, you know.” He told you candidly, cracking a cocky grin. “You took everything at Hogwarts like a fish to water. I’ve been using magic my whole life and yet I can never do anything correctly.” He smiled as he said this, but you could see his sadness. “If there’s one thing I learned, It’s that you can’t let people get to you easily.”

He patted your shoulder. “We need to get back to the castle before curfew.”

He stood up, and pulled you to your feet.

You smiled at him. “Thank you for your encouraging words, Leander. For the record, I think you’re a wonderful person.” You saw his face turn fuschia, and you let out a giggle.

Now in your 7th year, you decided you would finally work up the courage to ask him out to Hogsmeade.

It was breakfast, and you made your way over to where Leander sat at the Gryffindor table.

“Hello Leander.” You said, as you nervously fiddled with your fingers. He turned to look at you, face stuffed with toast. You giggled at the sight.

“Yes?” he said, looking at you curiously.

“Well, I-um, I’ve been in love with you since 5th year, and I just was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me later?” You waited a beat.

Leander paused.His face turning fuschia once more. It felt like the entire breakfast hall had gone quiet at this confession.

“You want to go to Hogsmeade…with me?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded your head. He stared at you blankly, unable to comprehend how anybody would want to go out with him. You started to falter. He wasn’t responding, you clearly had embarrassed him. Just as you were going to turn away he finally answered. “Yes!” he answered, a little too enthusiastically. He cleared his throat. “Ah- I mean, of course. I would have to be a fool to say no, and I am no fool.”

You felt elated. “So would 3 o’clock be okay?” You asked happily.

“That would be wonderful.” He said, still bright red.

You gleefully went back to your table, feeling this was the start of something beautiful.

——————————————————————————

I Hope you enjoyed this! It’s a bit short but I think I might do a part 2 where they go to Hogsmeade.

[dreamdepot]

Dreams of the Kingdom - Chapter 24: Beyond Time

Previous < First > Next

AO3 Wattpad or below!

“Hello, [Y/n]. It’s good to finally have a proper conversation with you.”

“Sheik,” you said. “You saved me?”

“Second time now, but I don’t believe in keeping count,” he said with a sly grin. “From what I hear, my name has been passed down even within your family for those protecting Hyrule and carrying out necessary measures in the shadows. Fitting if you ask me; I can’t ask for a greater legacy.” His face fell, a flicker of remorse. “I apologize I couldn’t speak to you more in the pyramid, but my time is very limited. I had to make sure you destroyed Ghirahim to weaken Ganondorf. If I stayed too long, I’m sure he would have taken notice.”

“Didn’t really do much to him,” you muttered. “He had no trouble kicking my ass.”

Sheik shook his head. “Ganondorf always enjoyed to show off, especially if it was to hide a weakness. He puts up a tough front, but you have him scared now. You’ve severely weakened him, between decimating his army and undoing centuries of work he did to prepare for this war of his.”

Even thousands of years afterward, you could tell Ganondorf’s betrayal was still a fresh wound on Sheik’s heart. “Time said that this will finally be the end. You can rest soon, I promise.”

A small smile grew on his face. “Zelda did say you were kind, always seeking to help the people of Hyrule.”

“It’s my sworn duty as prince,” you said. “Hyrule and her people are my family, I’ll do what I can to protect them all, even if it means sacrificing myself to stop Ganondorf.”

“And leave your beloved Link alone?” Your heart turned to ice. “I thought not. That’s not a bad thing, you know. Willing to live for someone is far more noble than willing to die, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard. “I… suppose so.”

Sheik lifted your chin to look in your eyes. “If there was one thing I hoped to impart in the dreams, it was to not make the same mistakes as I did. You’ve done quite well so far, and you don’t have far left to go.” He took your hand. “Come, Rauru and I always liked to walk and talk. It helps to focus the mind.”

You followed Sheik into the temple, but it melted away around you into a beautiful garden, seemingly in the sky. Looking back where you once were, you didn’t see the jungle of Faron but rather a temple that looked a lot like Hyrule Castle, but if it had been built over millennia. Contrasting architecture and stone all seemed piled on top of each other into a unique building, floating above the clouds. “Beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve always liked how it turned out.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, but your heart wasn’t in it. Your thoughts were a tempest as you wondered what to do.

“Ah, Ganondorf is on your mind, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” you said again. “What do I do next…”

“Well, seeing him dead’s a good start.” Your head snapped up to Sheik, who laughed. “Oh I loved him, but I’m not so lovesick to not see the bigger picture. No, he needs to be destroyed for good.”

“But how? I can’t even get close to him.”

“Mmm, true.” Sheik pulled his hair back, revealing the burns around his neck. “Thanks to Ganondorf’s curse, it’s impossible for us to attack him directly. Our souls are bound and only destroying him will shatter the bond.”

You groaned. “I know. Any time I try to, he makes my body lock up. If I can’t fight him, then what do I do?”

Sheik smiled. “Ganondorf has always been fated to duel the champion of Hylia and the wielder of the Master Sword – your beloved. That doesn’t mean you’re completely out of the fight though, you have your own part to play.” You raised an eyebrow. “Prince [Y/n], this is going to be a terrible final battle. People are going to need you to lead them. Not to mention, only you are able to break the curse that plagues Hyrule once and for all.”

“The Curse of Demise, right?”

Sheik nodded. “Assemble the Triforce. With it, the Goddesses will grant your deepest desires: a Dream of Power, a Dream of Wisdom, and a Dream of Courage. Remember everything you’ve learned on your journeys, and you will save Hyrule.”

“No pressure,” you laughed weakly. “Just get back two pieces of the Triforce from the embodiment of all evil and find the hidden final piece.” You looked up hopefully. “You… wouldn’t happen to have any hints, would you?”

“Well, since you asked…” Sheik snickered. “I’d start with the fifth sage. Mineru, King Rauru’s sister, is the Sage of Spirit. She was a genius beyond her time and helped me to hide the great divine power. Sonia and Zelda also helped, since we needed a way to hide the Temple as well.”

Suddenly it clicked. “The Triforce of Courage, you’ve been hiding it this whole time.”

Sharpe smiled. “Exactly, not only to keep Ganondorf from obtaining it in my time but in any time in the future. Mineru and I carefully crafted the Shadow Temple to protect it from all invaders. Sonia and Zelda hid the temple until the time you would need it.”

“But wait, the Triforce of Courage was wielded by multiple heroes of the past? Who’s to say it’s still there?”

Sheik shook his head. “Prince [Y/n], you should know the answer to that better than anyone, especially given your boyfriend.”

You thought for a moment, then snapped your fingers. “Sonia’s Recall!”

“Correct, that’s why I needed Sonia. Her ability allowed us to return the Triforce of Courage to the Temple whenever it was not needed for safekeeping. It wasn’t a foolproof strategy. Sonia’s abilities are powerful, but of course, she couldn’t stop the will of the Goddesses. There were times when the Triforce was fully intact and unfortunately Recall couldn’t break that, but it always returned in the end, safe and sound as a last resort for the heroes across time and for you.”

Your heart was starting to pound. Everything now seemed possible, more than a ray of hope to actually see Ganondorf destroyed. “Okay, so we need to find the Shadow Temple. Do that, and the Triforce is as good as ours.”

“It won’t be easy. There are layers to the security of the Shadow Temple. It was meant to be more of a vault really. To even get near the temple, you have to find the hidden path. I can tell you the entrance is near the new – or relatively new – Temple of Time on what you know as the Great Plateau. However, you’ll need to find Mineru. You’ll never get through the first lock without her.”

“How do I find Mineru? Link and I have been all over the sky and the surface…” You thought for a moment. “Wait, Rauru told me her laboratory in the Depths.”

“Correct. As to where…” Sheik smiled, a little devilishly. “Mineru and I were quite close, as she kept the entrance to her laboratory not far from my old home when I was a Dragon Priest. We often looked out for each other. Perhaps you’ll find the answer on the Dracozu River.”

Your mind raced. “This is it, the way we beat Ganondorf. Rauru was right, you had a backup this whole time!”

“Of course. I know Ganondorf better than anyone, and I know he’s a cunning tactician. He’d use whatever he could to get the Triforce, but he has a major weakness.”

“Right,” you said. “He’s obsessed with the past.”

Sheik nodded. “We knew he’d strip Hyrule bare to find it, so we hid it where he could never find it – outside of time itself. You can’t find the Shadow Temple because it doesn’t exist until you unlock it from the stasis Zelda put it in.”

“Then I’ve got to go! I can’t waste time with Ganondorf around.”

Your former self stopped you. “Ah, but before you go, I wanted to give you this.” Sheik produced a band made of a bluish metal. At the center was the winged crest of the royal family, minus the Triforce.

It was lighter than it looked and slipped easily onto your wrist. As soon as it did, it seemed to tighten a bit. It felt perfect next to your scars from the Triforce. “It looks like the ones the Sheikah monks wear. I think I saw Ravio wearing something similar too.”

Sheik laughed. “I wouldn’t try merging into walls with this one. This is the Band of Hylia, the Goddesses asked me to pass this on to you.”

“It’s nice, but… what does it do?”

“That, I’m afraid, I don’t know, but…” He reached forward and pressed his fingers to the winged crest. The crest glowed softly. “I imagine it was for an important reason. Perhaps protection, perhaps a weapon. They said they wished to even the playing field a bit, but only you would know what to do with it. Though Lady Din did say something about giving Ganondorf a taste of his own medicine.”

“Heh, if that’s what she said, I can’t wait to try it.” You studied the bluish metal, tapping it with your finger. “It almost seems like it’s made of Timeshift Stone, but it’s metal instead of crystal.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out when the time is right. Now, I believe you have a swordsman waiting for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Right, I need to go.” You bowed to Sheik. “Thank you, it’s not going to be easy, but I won’t let you down.”

“Remember, I am always with you.” Sheik said, embracing you. “All of Hyrule across time is with you. Together, we will see Ganondorf fall, once and for all.”

The temple began to blur around you, the light growing brighter and brighter. A warm breeze enveloped you, whisking you away. By the time you opened your eyes again, you were standing at the entrance to Lookout Landing. The blood moon high above you now began to wane, all thanks to you weakening Ganondorf’s power.

You wasted no time, running back inside the fort; this time throwing stealth to the side. Behind you the guards started shouting and chasing after you, but you barely heard them. Instead, you skidded on the deck and threw open the door to Purah’s lab.

“Holy shit!” Purah hissed, dropping her tea. “What’s wrong? You just left!” You slammed the door behind you and latched it.

“Time travel, long story. No questions. Where’s Link?”

“Time… travel… the fuck are you talking about?!” Purah spluttered. Instead, you pushed past her to where all of the Sages statues had been moved. Despite them being lined up, you had tunnel vision for one. Before you knew it your hands were on the frozen Link’s chest.

“Please… please…”

Slowly, the cold stone began to warm. Bit by bit, color returned to the statue. Link slowly blinked, coming back to life. “Link!” You cried, pulling him into your arms. “Link, I’m so glad you’re safe!”

But the swordsman stood stiffly and did not hug you back. “Do I know you?”

“What?” You pushed back.

“Just kidding,” he said with a weak laugh, before pulling you tightly against him.

“Stupid ass,” you huffed, resting your head on his shoulder. Link was quiet, but you could feel something wet on your cheek. “Hey… it’s alright, we’re back together and safe.”

“You could’ve died somewhere in the distant past – or worse!” Only you could catch the way his voice cracked for just a moment. “Being an echo or whatever… stuck like that. I couldn’t do anything to help you!”

“But I didn’t and having you with me was enough.” You said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady and strong for him. You gently brushed his hair, playing with it just the way he liked it.

“I can’t believe you risked everything to save me.”

“Of course I would Link,” You soothed. “Don’t you know by now? I love you. It doesn’t matter if you lose your memories or if it’s across the seas of time, I’ll love you from now to eternity.”

Suddenly, Link’s lips crashed into yours, needy and desperate. It felt as if you were drowning in his embrace, and you couldn’t help but succumb to the storm of his passion. When he finally broke away, you could only gasp for breath. “I love you too, for all time… and I plan to show you just how much…”

“Ahem,” Purah coughed.

Link blushed furiously. “Sorry Purah.”

The scientist picked up the broken porcelain chunks of her teacup. “Listen, I get it, but please save it for after, huh?”

“Right,” you said, gently extricating yourself from Link. “We do need to help our friends.” You turned to each of the sages, starting with Yunobo, who seemed rather precariously balanced. Touching his forehead brought down the red light from the air, filling him and reverting the curse.

“Yipes!” He squeaked, barely stopping himself in time from toppling over onto Purah’s table. “What… what happened? Your majesty, you… wow! You look amazing! Those look like some real quality gems, goro!”

You hugged him. “Glad to have you back, I’ll let you take a look at the new armor later.” You then turned to Riju.

The yellow light engulfed her, and she slumped back against the wall. “That was far from pleasant,” she muttered, stretching. “Prince [Y/n], you weren’t hurt, were you?”

“No, I’m alright. Got a lot of stories to tell you. Did you know one of your ancestors was an oracle and possibly a goddess?”

She blinked but quickly composed herself with a grin. “Does that really surprise you?”

“No, no it doesn’t.” You then made for Tulin, filling him with the green light.

The little Rito yawned wide. “Five more minutes mom…”

“Up and at ‘em buddy. We’ve got work to do.”

He blinked sleepily at you, then looked around. “How did I get in the crazy scientist lady’s house?”

Purah shot a look at you and Link. “Okay, which of you gave him the idea to call me that.”

Link shrugged. “Is it a lie?”

Before Purah could respond, you turned to Sidon. No sooner had the blue light restored him did you find yourself in another crushing hug. “My dear friend! You’re okay!”

“I should be saying that to you!” You wheezed, struggling for air.

“I’m going to have a new statue sculpted in your honor, for breaking the curse on us all!”

“It better not be like the last one.”

Sidon’s eyes burned with mischief. “Not if Muzu retires with father.”

With all the sages freed, you turned to the Master Sword, still on Link’s back. You touched it but nothing happened. You tried again, yet despite your touch, the sword remained as a stone block. “She’s still frozen,” you muttered. “I guess that means we still need the last flame. I’m sorry Link.”

Link shook his head. “Don’t worry, she’s stronger than that. She always comes back, just like you.” He took your hand, looking into your eyes as if you were the only person in the world… despite the ribbing from the sages in the background.

Purah cleared her throat again. “So, before the Prince and Linky decide to put on a show for everyone-” Cue a whistle from Riju. “-can someone please explain what’s going on.”

It took some time to explain the whole story, and thankfully Purah set out some food for everyone. “And that’s how I ended up back home,” you said with a sip of your tea.

“I can’t believe it,” Sidon muttered. “Ganondorf truly is waging total war with nothing to lose. To threaten not only us but the past…”

“Lucky you were able to stop him!” Yunobo said.

Tulin nodded eagerly. “And you saved Kass!”

“I’m just glad to be home after all that, and that you guys are safe.” You said. “And thankfully, only some minor losses on the way.”

Link perked up. “Oh yeah, you told me about losing your reaver. I’ll make you a better one, promise. Think I saw a Silver Lynel on the Rabia Plains, bet that’ll make an awesome sword for you.”

“Eh, not just that. My Sheikah armor is ruined. Actually, I think I accidentally left them back in the Twilight Realm.”

Link looked devastated. “We have to go to Kakariko Village immediately.”

Purah slammed her hands on the table, glaring at Link. “Five minutes, Linky, please.” She then turned to you. “As for you, after this is all over, you are so taking me to the Gate of Time.”

“I’m pretty sure the Hero of Time will kill me if I let you time travel.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you don’t want to see what the Sheikah were like at the height of their empire! Think of the technology!”

You sipped your tea. “Oh I am, that’s exactly why I’m not taking you. The horrors we’d release on the world…”

==============================

After a not-so-restful night, you awoke for once in your own bed, Link wrapped around you. You couldn’t help the smile blossoming on your face. Everything in you said, this was right. This was the way things should be…

You threaded your fingers through his hair, gently slipping his hair band back on. Slowly, your knight rose from slumber, looking at you with pure adoration. “Good morning beautiful.”

You kissed him gently. “Maybe I should save your life more often if you’re this cuddly afterward.”

“Nah, it’s not about that. It’s more that I have a secret weakness.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s for handsome warrior princes who are charming, smart, brave, cute…”

You shoved a pillow in his face. “Okay, now you’re just trying to get me riled up.”

He peeked out from the pillow. “You can still get riled up after last night? I’m clearly losing my touch.”

“I’m gonna shove you off the bed if you keep this up.”

Link anchored himself around your waist. “Oh really?”

“Touché.” You ceded his victory for now, nestling in his arms for a big longer. Soon enough, you would need to leave and begin your next quest, but this time it would be with Link at your side, as things should be. “Link, I trust you with everything I have. Do you trust me?”

“To the end of time itself, my prince.”

You flipped over to look him in the eyes. “We are equal, partners in everything my love. Together, we can overcome anything. Trust me to have your back the same way I trust you to have mine.”

“Of course I do, I just-”

“No. Link, we have to do this together. Ganondorf thinks he can keep us divided by playing on our roles as Prince and Knight. He baited us before by tricking us into charging in, worrying about protecting each other. By doing that, he made me his pawn and made you Hyrule’s final and only defense. Only by unconditional trust are we going to defeat Ganondorf.”

Link nodded. “Together then.”

You embraced him. “Hand in hand.” You thought for a moment. “Well, together is exactly the answer – with everyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Ganondorf is going to fight us with an army, then we need one of our own. First step is finding the Fifth Sage.”

Link nodded. “The Sage of Spirit, okay. Where do we even begin?”

An uneasy laugh slipped out as you thought about Sheik’s advice. “Well… about that. Not sure if you’re gonna like the answer…”

==============================

The ride south to Faron was easy enough, and your horses were happy for the long but easy run. Link, however, grew steadily more stoic the closer you got. “Link, please don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting.”

Admittedly he wasn’t, but your knight wasn’t the type to pout – unless he was trying to get you to make him more food. Instead, he put up his soldier façade, reminding you of how he was when he lost his memories. You sighed as you brought your horses to a stop near the Popla Foothills. With Faron and the Dracozu River being more swamp-like, it wasn’t safe for your horses to make the last bit of the trip. “I’m telling you, he doesn’t have eyes for me.”

Suddenly, Link spun you around, trapping you against your trusty steed. “Good. Because you’re mine.”

You grabbed his Champion’s Leathers, pulling him close to you. “And you’re mine. If you think I’m gonna let some himbo researcher come between us after I literally crossed time, you might still have some rocks in that pretty little head of yours. Now be a good boy and play nice.” You released him, revealing a wide-eyed Link. You even heard a little whimper squeak out of him. You tightened your belt on your Climbing Gear – the Royal Armor would not have been a good idea in the humid swamp – and leapt into the air, paragliding down to the lake. You barely landed when you heard a commotion.

“Your majesty! Sir Link!” Tauro sloshed through the shallow lake, not caring about how much he was splashing all over himself. “Am I glad to see you!”

“Tauro!” You greeted. “How’s your expedition coming?”

“Fantastic, your majesty, you’ve got to see this. Come, this way!” Tauro barreled forward, slipping in the water before sloshing back to the entrance to a hidden altar. You could only shake your head, choosing to walk around on the lakeside instead. Link followed, a bit stiffly. Looking at the ruins, you couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for Sheik to live here. You could remember the feeling of how sad he was when he was forced to leave for the Gerudo Desert.

Tauro eagerly awaited you in the secret room. “This is the culmination of my research. Thanks to you allowing us to investigate the Ring Ruins and now the Dracozu Ruins, I’ve got a whopper of a discovery on the hook here! Look at this Zonai mural, complete with intact text!” He knelt down before a large relief, depicting a Dragon Priest at prayer. “I had a chance to decipher the text, though I’m a bit at a loss. Here, let me read it so we’re on the same page.”

He cleared his throat. “‘Wear the electric garb hidden at long-necked dragons along the wide-mouth forest serpent.’ That must be the tall dragon sculptures we see throughout the region, though I’m not exactly sure of what they mean by serpent. There’s so much snake and dragon iconography in Zonai architecture, it could be any of them! Luckily, I have been able to find the pieces of the ceremonial dress in my excavation.”

“Weren’t there lots of Lizalfos in this area?”

Tauro laughed. “I’m from Lurelin, we know how to deal with them. Besides, you didn’t think these muscles were for nothing, did you?”

“Good point,” you said, noticing Link starting to clench his jaw. Eager to change the subject, you asked, “Okay so what else does it say?”

“Ah yes, then it says, ‘Offer a Zonai Charge to the altar at the tail.’ I haven’t quite found that yet.”

“The river,” Link suggested. “The serpent could be the river. It’d make sense if you found all the pieces here, so the altar must be down where the river meets the Floria River.”

Tauro snapped his fingers. “Of course! The river, you’re a genius Link! I’m sure following the river will unlock the secret of this temple!” he took your hand and Link’s. “I’m so lucky to have friends like you to help with these discoveries! Come on, we’ve got to get to the altar!” Tauro nearly drug the two of you with him as he ran out of the temple.

==============================

A short but wet hike later, you arrived at the final altar. The storm over the skies of Faron seemed especially rough today, and the usual rain had become a typhoon. While you and Link wrung water out of your hair and clothes, Tauro fished around in his pack. “Oh this is so exciting, we’re on the brink of a discovery, I can feel it! Just… a… moment…” He reached in and fished out a small bundle of fabric. “Da-da-da-dum! The ceremonial robes of the last Dragon Priest! I was hoping to wear it myself, but I’m afraid I’m a bit too… big.”

Admittedly, there was no way it was going to fit over that chest of his. You took the sarong in your hands, recognizing it instantly. “Link… this belonged to Sheik.”

“Then you should be the one to wear it.”

Tauro, oblivious, added, “I think either of you would look very nice in it.”

“I’ll just get changed then… if you guys don’t mind…?” You held back your laugh as Link shoved Tauro outside.

The Charged set was old, but you could feel the power thrumming through it. You slipped on the robes, as if second nature – though you were sure it was Sheik helping you. You finished by fixing the horned headdress and smoothing out the wrinkles on the sarong. “Ready!”

The two entered and Link’s jaw dropped first, speechless. He seemed torn about whether to stare at you or find a blindfold to tie over Tauro. The researcher meanwhile clapped. “Fantastic, you look straight out of the wall murals!”

“Mhmm…” Link mumbled.

You pulled out a Zonai Charge, mostly to keep yourself from laughing at Link’s reaction. “So, I just offer it?”

“That’s all the mural said, hopefully it’s just that easy,” Tauro said.

You mounted the steps and climbed to the altar. You placed the Charge gently on the metal plate, noting how it seemed more technological than religious. Words came to your mouth naturally. “In the name of Farosh, I command you cease!”

The smell of ozone filled the air. You could hear sparks starting to fly outside. “I wonder what that is,” Tauro said, taking a step to the door.

“Wait!” Both you and Link shouted together.

A loud crashing boom shook the room and you down to your bones. The three of you froze for a moment as the thunderclap echoed. Your ears rang, but as the tinnitus cleared, you could hear… silence. The rains had stopped.

You led the others outside as the clouds began to part. The thunderhead above Faron dispersed, revealing a new archipelago of sky islands as the sun shone on the Faron jungles for the first time since the Upheaval.

“A… weather machine! The Zonai created a way to control the weather! This is fantastic!” Tauro shouted. “Please excuse me, I’ve got to write this down. Thank you so much for your help! Ah! Can’t wait to tell my boyfriend!” Tauro dashed off back to his camp, muttering to himself with what was likely the first of many theories.

“Did he say boyfriend?” Link asked, a bit shocked.

You, meanwhile, focused on the sky islands. “There must be a hint to Mineru’s laboratory up there,” you said. “Even Ganondorf’s monsters would have trouble getting there. Now how do we get there?”

Link embraced you from behind, his voice slightly raspy. “Later.”

“But the way is open? Shouldn’t we-”

“Later.” As Link hastily pulled you back into the altar room. You figured that Link had found a new favorite armor for you to wear.

==============================

A/N: Another Saturday chapter, hoping to be back to a normal schedule soon. Work continues to be a bit of a bear.

Next week: From the sky to the depths, time to find the Sage of Spirit and face

[irenethewoman]

Mrs. Shelby- Chapter 18 - The Russians

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I grabbed Tommy's sleeve, whispered, "Tell Arthur no one blames him. I actually thought his speech was okay."

Tommy seemed to smile, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. I sat at the head, watching my husband and a guest lock eyes, the man looking away before turning towards me.

"Serve the dinner," I said, signaling the maid. I arranged the seating myself; I didn't know that man, definitely not within the guest range. Better not be Churchill; if he ruins my wedding night, there will be trouble.

"Good evening, Polly."

"Good evening, you look dazzling, dear." Polly handed me a drink; we chatted by the bar. "You were late because... hmm? Oh, you're still so easily embarrassed."

I touched my warm cheeks, murmuring, "Tommy ruined my favorite dress."

I could tell Polly hesitated, feeling I had the right to know what would happen tonight but not wanting to spoil my wedding night.

Seems like today is truly unforgettable.

"Is something going to happen tonight?" I asked. "Tommy has been anxious all day."

"You're too sharp, Darby. It makes people feel inadequate." Polly shook her head, sadly smiling. "Russian royalists, you know."

I nodded, aware of the exiled Russian aristocrats wandering in Europe, seeking support for a futile attempt to reclaim their lost power.

"Is Tommy doing business with them?" What kind of business? Alcohol, horse racing, or heroin?

Polly nodded. "Starting tonight."

Heavens! After all this time in exile, couldn't they wait one more night!

"Dani, Tommy didn't tell you to avoid worrying you. He prefers facing things alone." Seeing my strange expression, Polly explained.

"Not anymore, Polly. I'm Shelby, Diana Shelby."

Polly looked at me with a mix of warmth, pride, and concern, like a mother watching her just-married daughter. "Thomas Shelby made quite a catch, dear."

"Ladies and gentlemen, time for the newlyweds' dance." The announcer's voice interrupted; I adjusted my dress.

"Go, Diana, you can at least enjoy this dance."

Tommy held my waist, almost making me lean into him. I loved being close to him, just like how Charlie loves sticking to me.

"Do you hide some little secrets with your wife, Mr. Shelby?"

Tommy quickly responded, explaining and confessing, "They came uninvited."

"Don't make too much noise, Tommy. This involves secrecy; don't let those drunken bags of wind notice. Do you need me to do anything?"

"Enjoy the dance and our wedding night, Mrs. Shelby." He kissed my lips. "I'm sorry this happened on your first day as Mrs. Shelby."

"It's not your fault, Tommy."

As the announcer allowed everyone to join the dance, Tommy was about to leave.

We exchanged a kiss. "Stay safe, and smoke less, Tommy."

"You too."

I watched his solitary figure with worry.

I wanted to advise him to stop because once we entered the game of power, there was no turning back. We'd become pawns, climbing the peaks of power to survive. But I didn't want to worry him, disturb his thoughts.

I'll be with him. Even if hell awaits, I'll jump with him.

This is why I chose Mei Carlton and Edward Collins as our children's godparents—to protect Charlie if anything happened to us. "It's over, right?"

I hugged Tommy from behind; he covered my hands with his.

"Yes."

I wanted to ask about Churchill and the king's stance, what kind of business they were getting into, and the possibility of us extricating ourselves from the political mess afterward. But what came out of my mouth was different.

"So, it's finally our wedding night, right?"

When he entered my body, I could see his face clearly. His blue eyes were filled with apologies and tenderness. I raised my hand, touching his face. He must be tired, planning and worrying. There were traces of white hair at his temples. He's only 31...

He's tired enough. Let's talk about tomorrow another day.

I leaned back, kissing him.

"You've worked hard, my husband."

I held Charlie, watching Tommy and them leave at the door.

"Say goodbye to Dad, Charlie." I waved Charlie's chubby little hand. "And Uncle Arthur, Uncle John, and Aunt Polly."

"No need to wait for me recently; get some rest early." Tommy kissed me, patting our son's head.

I didn't expect to end up being a housewife so similar to my mother.

Tommy was determined not to involve me in their illicit income, and he kept political matters from me. With Charlie being our only child and a target for many, I couldn't trust a nearly stranger to care for him.

I wanted to work alongside my husband, manage the business, negotiate with politicians. But for now, my role was to provide a stable rear, ensuring he had no worries.

Looking at the mountain of letters on the desk, remembering last night, Tommy rejected my request to join the company. He wanted me to run the Shelby Charity Foundation.

"Tommy, you know I want to help..."

"Building the Shelby Charity Foundation is a huge help, my dear."

"You can assign the legitimate business to Michael, or Finn, or ask Ada to come back..."

"Dani," he cupped my face, looking into my eyes, "if our son ever wonders about our work, let him despise me alone."

"You're a Baroness in the clear, the perfect mother for our child. Leave all the troubles to me. If I'm not around..."

I quickly covered his mouth. "Don't talk nonsense on such a joyous day."

"You go back to London or Yorkshire, live a clean life with Charles." Tommy removed my hand, gently kissing it.

"You won't... we're going to live a long life together, remember? You'll be fine, nothing will happen..."

He just looked at me.

We were both afraid of death because it was within reach now. It was real, so it was terrifying.

Desperately, I thought.

John has stirred up trouble with the Italians.

Tommy didn't tell me, so I pretended not to know. But, in reality, I have my own sources in both Birmingham and London, providing information about politics, social affairs, and "business."

"How was your day?" Tommy, unusually home early, lay on my lap, eyes closed, enjoying my massage.

"Not too bad. Charlie was well-behaved today." I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see. "Oh, I think we can make some changes to our courtyard. I want to plant a rose garden and set up a swing. The charity event had a good response; everyone I wrote to replied." Well, isn't that normal? Tommy rules Birmingham, and I'm the Baroness from London. A powerful alliance, making the Shelbys the most sought-after.

"A busy day, huh?" Tommy sat up. "To reward your hard work, my dear, close your eyes."

"Oh, come on! After all these years, you still come up with these odd surprises." I said it, but I obediently closed my eyes.

"Just because we've been married for ages doesn't mean we don't need surprises, Shelby. Okay, open your eyes."

Before me lay a Tanzanite necklace, a large uncut Tanzanite hanging beneath a diamond necklace.

"Where did you get this?" I'd never had such jewelry before. Usually, I carefully cut gemstones into beautiful patterns and set them in gold or silver grooves. All the diamonds on my most precious diamond necklace were cut from a large diamond.

"You can wear it to the charity dinner." Tommy embraced me from behind.

"Charity event? Tommy, this is too grand." I turned to him, smiling, then looked down at the gem on my neck. It looks like a miner's windfall... but it's really beautiful.

"This is damn Birmingham, Dani. Only those unfortunate folks care about taste. When meeting the king, I won't let you look like a nouveau riche."

"What should I give you in return, Tommy?" I pushed him onto the couch, then pinned him down, fingers circling his abdomen. I watched the movement of his Adam's apple with satisfaction.

He glanced at my chest, not with good intentions. "Anything will do."

The next day, Tommy pulled me out of bed.

"I'm tired..." I waved my hand with my eyes closed. "Don't bother me."

But he persistently woke me up. "Aren't you going to work?" I sat on the bed, looking at him gloomily with disheveled hair.

"I'm off today, accompanying you and Charlie."

"You don't have to..."

"I know you won't be a resentful wife, I know you won't blame me, you can handle Charlie alone..." Tommy held my face, "but I need to do this. I am your husband, Charlie's father, and this is what a husband and father should do, right?"

"..."

It made me uncomfortable. Tommy's love for me was always silent, seen in the details. Now it's like a last-minute request before death.

"Tommy," I stopped him, and he turned. "What's wrong?"

"I won't let you die. I swear, we can start over from scratch if necessary." I hope he lets go of this matter.

I'm serious. If Churchill or others dare to harm Tommy, with my own strength, I can save him. As long as he's alive, there's hope, and we can start over from scratch.

His gaze softened. "I believe you, Dani, I believe."

... He doesn't believe, he's just comforting me.

"The police from London came to the office and took Tommy away?"

"Tommy said it was the Russians." Although Tommy warned John not to call me, he still did.

"... Tommy will come back, don't worry."

It's just a threat. They'll release my husband; they still need him to work for them.

After hanging up with John, I called Churchill.

For Tommy and me, as long as there is no danger to life, doing business with anyone is no different. We don't care about each other's identity. But the king, and Churchill, are different. They staunchly oppose the Bolsheviks. Besides fearing their political system collapsing like Russia's, they don't want a government with different demands to exist. In the recent war, Russia and Britain stood together. If another war broke out, no one knew if today's Russia would stand opposite Britain.

But these things can't be known to the public. So they found Tommy, wanted him to act secretly.

Arms, or money. I lean more towards the former.

Just like what Tommy did before, rob arms, then sell them.

Even though I've always thought my sister-in-law Linda is a bit of a charlatan, she said one thing right, "Devil's work is done in the dark." Doing things in the dark means safety can't be guaranteed. You can kill in the dark, and someone might be waiting to kill you from behind.

"Madam, young master Charles is looking for you again." Jenny's appearance interrupted my thoughts.

I followed her to Charles's nursery, picked him up, and soothed him. Charles's pillows and blankets were all wrinkled by his fussiness. I handed my son to the maid, started tidying the bed, and unexpectedly found a piece of paper. I picked it up, read the words on it, and felt my blood freeze.

It was a card from the crematorium, with "Rest in peace, Charles Shelby" written on the back.

Tommy came back, rushing into Charles's bedroom.

I followed him, standing by his side.

"Are you looking for this?" I handed him the note I found this afternoon. "We are being watched, Tommy."

"They threatened my son, Tommy. To be honest, Tommy, if I could, I really want to kill them all. Damn Russians, monarchists, Russo-British War." I leaned on Charles's small bed, looking out of the window, softly speaking. "What a nonsense about restoring the monarchy, and they have to resort to threatening a child. Restore? Hmph..."

"Nothing will happen." Tommy hugged me.

They know each other, and I think I know where the gem on my neck came from.

"Your lady is beautiful, just like the gem on her neck."

"Thank you." I smiled confidently, accepting the Duchess's ambiguous compliment. I'm not the delicate rose protected so well by Tommy. She doesn't even know me but wants to provoke me.

Rest assured, as long as I'm alive, Thomas Shelby won't sleep with you. He only loves me.

Tommy tried to get me away, called Ada to take me, and I obediently went elsewhere to talk to others.

"You have to take off the necklace." Tommy suddenly said to me.

"Why?" I stared at him.

It's not that I'm unwilling, but this big gemstone disappearing from my neck will surely cause endless inquiries. I hate trouble.

But he insisted.

"Okay, if it makes you feel better." I lowered my head, letting him help me take off the necklace.

"I just want you safe, Dani. I need you." Tommy kept using sweet words to comfort me.

"I'm not angry, dear," I kissed his lips, "I know... I know, Mr. Shelby, all I ask for is

this." That we all live peacefully.

Unconsciously, people in the hall are almost gone.

Suddenly, a waiter shouted, "For Arthur!" Holding a gun, he aimed at Tommy. Arthur lunged, but the man still fired.

It can't be Tommy! No...

After the gunshot, I lay in Tommy's arms with one hand covering my bloody shoulder.

"Tommy, it hurts... Tommy... hurts..." I smelled the gunpowder in the air, along with the scent of blood, mixed with the perfume on my body, Tommy's tobacco, champagne, and floral scents.

"Tommy..." I felt my eyelids heavy...

You have to live well; this family needs you...

[swordsmans]

I neeeeeeed to know about "luffy slips into an alternate timeline/dimension where he "died" instead of sabo and meets an older ace/sabo" I live for stuff like this please

sorry this took me so long! i. didn't realize you had sent an ask rip (that stupid sanji post has annihilated my activity page im in hell)

omg this one is actually one that i'm least likely to actually write because it has the potential to be Long (as you can see with the giant outline), but i wanted to kind of play around with the idea of luffy-less world in the post-timeskip era, because i really like time travel/redo fics where everyone is better/stronger but i think it would be NEAT if the straw hats had to fix things that might have happened if luffy died as a kid. think "doomed timeline" (if that means anything to you). even though the premise is technically ASL i am a straw hat bitch through and through so it's actually more of straw hat fic than the original idea.

here's a copy/paste under the cut (you will see that i write a lot of notes to myself in these things)

takes place post-timeskip era

sabo has no connection to the revolutionary war; he and ace set out as pirates together. because of this, they are not associated with whitebeard (therefore no marineford); instead, they are associated with shanks somehow (maybe; not subordinates tho)

they're no longer two captains one ship, two captains (allied) on two ships (SEE ALT 2)

straw hats have all experienced some form of "bad" ending that leaves them jaded, cynical, or (for some) borderline evil

luffy = strength, joy, freedom optimism; most arcs involve rescues, but i dont think any of the straw hats are "weak" enough to die during their initial crises without luffy, otherwise they wouldnt be straw hats--just win at a massive cost and the next three years would be significantly harder

zoro - frees himself from the courtyard and continues being the demon of the east blue but--

nami - gets the money to free her village, arlong refuses to free cocoyashi; nami seeks out the demon of the east blue in order to take out arlong (in exchange for the money she earned and that arlong has stashed). fight is brutal but they kill arlong; nojiko dies, nami ends up traveling with zoro afterwards bc she has no reason to stay behind with nojiko gone.

they become a well-known, ruthless, and efficient bounty hunting duo on the grand line (bc it earns money and zoro wouldnt make it out of the east blue without her); both are jaded as FUCK bc zoro's dream is stagnant and nami is still wrestling with the guilt of failing her family years later, they're also bloodthirsty because money + power fills the void

usopp - kaya dies in the initial plot to kill her, usopp is blamed and flees the village; gets picked up by the buggy pirates (please this could be so funny please but remember this is supposed to be sad but think of how funny this could be though circus sharpshooter usopp he and buggy would be. so funny in the same room together)

sanji - stays at the baratie until the vinsmokes have a use for him. "wedding"/WCI goes through(?) and/or sanji is a member of the big mom pirates; pudding refuses to kill sanji, big mom is going to kill her but sanji bargains for her life; germa mods are awakened; in order to protect zeff+etc, pretends to be emotionless like his brothers, ends up working as a germa agent instead of staying on WCI because now pudding is as much of a liability as zeff or smth (pudding tho??? pls be nice to her but figure smth out). sanji war crimes

chopper/brook/jinbei remain stagnant

franky - whore do not forget this man was a gang leader who did actual violence; franky family is bigger and badder than ever, babyy

robin - can't stay with crocodile (boring bland unoriginal) put her somewhere she can experience problems; maybe she leaves, ends up on water 7, encounters franky; joins franky family(?) for protection but since she's no longer under a warlord's protection she's fair game for marines/bounty hunters; continues to work as an assassin tho and doesn't stay around much to protect the franky family from the people after her

franky family could potentially work as an alt strawhats "maybe i dont want to die actually" environment for robin; franky helps robin stabilize a little but since they're both kind of Messed Up it's less of a "we're fine actually" and more like "we're fucked up but at least we're fucked up together". they run a Criminal Organization together. they are a gang. robin is an assassin. no one is happy go lucky here even if they have found measure of """"""peace""""""

luffy encounters ace/sabo, it's emotional (obvs; this is self-indulgent)

however his brothers are both fundamentally fine, they are thriving and alive--there's nothing here to fix. you know who isn't fine? his crew.

convinces ace/sabo that they need to find them--whether it's to convince them to join their crew or just to make sure they're okay (whats the motivation here besides luffy wanting them to be happy because they're his family? does he need one? does it even matter?)

ALT 1 are luffy's crew here or did luffy enter the doomed timeline alone. if so--everyone? or just a few

interesting interactions: doomed/real zoro (consider the implications of a zoro who has stagnated/given up on his dream; this guy's got issues but our guy has no self-preservation however maybe they both have no self preservation. interesting convo about worth or value of life without drive)

doomed/real nami (LOTS of grief here babes, but maybe an interesting convo here about strength vs vulnerability)

doomed/real sanji (ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my god can you imagine. can you imagine how much that would mess him up to see himself become Sanji Vinsmoke)

luffy has fundamentally changed all of their lives for the better but the straw hats are all strong as individuals (physically and emotionally) even before they join the straw hats. that's the point

even if the "doomed" straw hats encounter/join luffy would their lives fundamentally change for the better or are the experiences they accumulate as straw hats what changes them--it's not just luffy going "ur mine now you're happy" it's the development they go through during events/by interacting with each other; maybe some choose to stay where they are but have a shift in perspective of some kind

at least try with asl here

is sabo still kind of unstable? is ace still depressed? how does luffy's absence change them?

ALT 2 consider that they drift apart without luffy to hold them together; luffy makes an effort to reunite them?

[trials-of-a-spirit-worker]

Hey! Before i ask my question-

I just wanna say, I love your account, it has really helped me with my journey in witchcraft.

Now to the question:

I really need some help rn:

Some girl did me absoloutely DIRTY and spread lies about me, so im gonna put a hex on her. I know the most important stuff, but a few days ago i found a dead wasp in my room so i have one question:

How do you use dead wasps/ bugs in hexes?

You dont have to answer this, but it would really help me rn!!

Hello anon!

Sorry I didn't answer sooner, my job is very high stress and time consuming. Totally my bad. Was not ignoring you in the slightest.

I'm glad to have helped you. That makes me very happy to hear.

I'm going to be honest though, I personally wouldn't use the dead wasp. It's not like you found it on the street and was like ha Imma get that person. It was found in your room.

Now...my slightly paranoid ass would assume that shit was an omen or attack or some shit. I don't know. I see something like that and I'm like some shit might be going down. I'd cleanse the little fucker and my room and get it out of my vicinity.

Then again, I had a history with someone who used bugs in their shitty intentions against me so that could be just a me thing as well. That was when I was young, dumb and inexperienced as fuck though.

(also I just do not like bugs, we do not vibe)

As to the answer you seek on what to do with this dead wasp:

Dead buggies are (imo) more suitable for flat out curses. Like...that goes beyond "bitch keep my name out your mouth" to "I will fuck up everything that makes you happy."

But your journey and craft is yours. So do as you see fit. I just highly recommend you cleanse like hell afterwards.

You can use the dead bug as a symbol of your anger/betrayed feeling coming back to the lie spreader.

Get real creative with it: Use the stinger as the bite of their lies now being turned onto them. Or even your own attack.

Take the wings and crush them over a taglock of the person as if to ground the person's lies. May lies fly out of the mouth no more.

Those are my first thoughts.

Like I said, be sure to cleanse yourself afterwards. Don't want that bad energy on you.

When it comes to spells and shit, try and think outside the box. Put a nasty little spin on it, almost like a signature on your own personalized fuck you if you're brave enough.

Do make sure to ward/protect yourself first and foremost. Sometimes even if they don't know it, your target could have something to reflect energy especially if the intent is to hex or harm.

You'd be surprised.

Better to be safe than sorry, honestly. I've made the mistake myself of just hexing without a ward or two. I learned.

Never spellwork when blind with emotion. That's how you fuck up. Witchcraft is all intention and that's all well and good but emotions can really fuck up the mind if you allow them to.

By all means, put your emotion into a spell; it's a powerful tool. Hell, I've used the intensity of my love for my spouse as a ward for them. I've thought of all the things that make me laugh and happy to bless my nephew. Emotions are a damn good tool.

Just don't let it get out of control.

At any rate, good luck. I hope this helps!

I also hope this made sense, I need to stop posting in the middle of the night/early morning. Shit be looking live drunk texts sometimes...

[chelseafcwmemes]

“When you travel around the world, you are often reminded of how lovely Denmark really is” Part 2

At one point I demanded to have my hair cut short so I could look like the players on the screen. It continued like this for a few years, until one day my older sister told me that there was also a national team for women. Then I let the hair grow back.''

If you were to move to another place in Denmark? "When my sports career ends and I have to return to Denmark, I would like to live in Aarhus or Copenhagen. Sometimes people ask why I bother to come forward, but I'm so screwed up that if there's something I want to change, I'll do it myself. If nobody does anything, nothing happens either.''

What do you miss when you are abroad?

"Rye bread. My partner is from Sweden, and she cannot understand that you can be full from a few slices of rye bread in the middle of the day. She wants hot food for lunch. But I love a rye bread meal with a good curry herring or a fish fillet with remoulade.'

'Which season do you enjoy the most?

"Summer. I grew up in the middle of Jutland, so I always had an hour and a half drive to the sea, but my parents liked to drive that trip to get to the water. Not least in the summer months, when you could swim. During the summer holidays we always went camping in Italy, and as an adult I also love to travel. Every summer I make sure to spend at least a week in Denmark, because I love the Danish summer light, but I also make sure to go abroad, so I'm sure to get some sun and warmth.

'Where in the country would you like to go? like to be buried?

"I don't think much about death. In fact, I try to avoid thinking about it. I'm not the type to believe that anything happens afterwards. Unfortunately. Otherwise, it could be nice if you went to a nice place and saw all the people you've cared about again. My mother's family was quite religious, and so is my mother actually, but I did not inherit that faith. Therefore, I also have the opinion that you should enjoy and get the most out of life while you have it. You do that by being in the moment and being grateful for the things you have, and trying not to be upset about all the things you don't have. There will always be something you wish was better or different, but if you get stuck in those thoughts, it will be difficult to be satisfied with the life you live. But of course you have to seek out the dreams you have. That's what life is all about. And when I have to leave here, I want to be buried in Ikast. My grandparents also lie there, and my parents will probably lie there too, so somehow there is a sense of security in knowing that is where I am going. Then the ring is just like over.'

[anemoi-i]

Rain Towards Dawn - The First Day -

Diluven | Rated M | No Reposts.

In which a So-Called-God seeks the approval of a mortal, like that has not gone wrong.

Warnings: Depictions of graphic violence, religious references and imagery, canon divergent. Some formatting may be different from the aO3 version.

Part One | Part Two [Here] | Part Three | Part Four

– The First Day –

Woe be to the So-Called-God.

There was commotion in the walls of Mondstadt City.

There was an effort by the people to clean up a mess that made it’s way into the city without any warning. The people could not explain it. How did a storm come to pass with no one being knowledgeable abou t it? Why didn’t it awaken anyone else? The whole shopping area of the city was in chaos. When Venti entered the city and he saw the Ordo helping with the cleanup, he sighed, looking around.  I couldn’t even ask myself if I did this. I know that I did it. The damage wasn’t significant but it was still there. I felt guilty. This is why I didn’t like to get angry.

Without hesitation, Venti grabbed a bag and began to place broken wood into into it, ignoring the glances directed his way. Why was it so surprising for them to see him helping out? He resisted saying anything aloud and directed his attention to the pile of garbage at his feet. He worked quicker than even the Ordo which made some of them annoyed enough to go and find other tasks to do. I’ll tell you this, Diluc and I are alike in the sense that the Ordo annoys us. He distrusts them for suitable reasons. I dislike them for the very reason that I had to sink to my knees and heal Acting Grandmaster Jean after she collapsed at her desk, shouldering their burdens they could have taken care of themselves. They always left tasks a child could do to her. No God would be able to help them should there be an intervention. I am that God and I am not happy.

Within an hour’s time, the debris was cleared and Mondstadt City returned to being the bustling street Venti loved so much. The people went about their day as if nothing happened and the carefree atmosphere returned. Passing by Good Hunter, Venti was handed a Mondstadt Hash Brown in exchange for a song, to which he sang with beauty. Those that had their breakfast there would marvel at his voice. He left afterwards, eating the food he were given. Venti chose to eat later in the afternoon, either hunting for his own food or travelling to the Springvale Hunter’s Guild to buy some with the mora he kept on reserve. He smiled, for songs could still be payment for certain things.

Being a bard, after all, was a job. One he did well.

The true rise of bards came after the fall of Old Mondstadt. Those that lived created the songs about the new land free from Decarabian’s reign and the Ascension of the Anemo Archon. They shaped the first songs that would be sung at taverns and the streets and everywhere else. Venti’s beloved bard also contributed to this, but he died before he could make his songs known. He could not see the fruits of his labor. He did not see the clear sky and for this, Venti wept. There is not a single song from him I cannot remember. I carved each word in my mind and stitched the notes into my fingers so that my body would play his songs even if I were a corpse mangled on the ground.

Exchanging a song for a meal or drink was considered a beggar’s tactic these days. Now, it’s important to note that the exchange existed for as long as Mondstadt has been around after Decarabian’s fall, but very little wanted to remember the roots today. He was happy when Sara remembered it. Even Margaret was knowledgeable, offering a drink to Venti once a week in exchange for his best songs sung at The Cat’s Tail. He didn’t bother try to see if that tradition could have held up at Angel’s Share (and he was no longer welcome, anyways) so instead, Venti sang for coin and then used that coin to get his drinks. He'd accumulated enough for a reserve, and then only went into it when he wanted to drink or if he did not want to hunt for food.

There were times when he gained mora in less than a noble way.

There was a stupid Treasure Hoarder camp stationed near Falcon Coast on a hot night. The fishermen came here because of the serenity of the coast, which allowed them an easier catch while others came to dip their feet in the lake. At this time, Venti cordoned off the Golden Apple Archipelago with storms, not wishing to deal with another mirage or other foolishness that happened the last year that was out of his control. As such, the people would have to use the lake here to cool their bodies. A perfect opportunity to steal valuables from them. Forseeing what would happen, Venti pretended to be an oblivious traveler, allowed one of the Treasure Hoarders to approach him, and—

—Leaped upon him for I had nothing left to lose.

He took his fingers and scratched up the Hoarder’s face repeatedly. The Hoarder screamed, clutching his bloodied face in agony, with new scratches beginning to form and bleed even as he was doing that. Venti fought much like taverngoers about to get into a nasty brawl. Not pretty, messy and brutal and not for the weak-hearted. When the Hoarder tried to fight back, going for his face, Venti grabbed the offending hand and twisted it, causing a horrifying snap of bone. And then I balled my hand into a fist and punched that Hoarder until his face was bloody and he was crying for whichever God would be stupid enough to listen to him, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me. I dragged him back to the camp and placed my foot on his face and dug my heel into his cheek which threatened to break skin and ordered the other two Hoarders to give me the mora they stole, threatening their friend’s life and after it was given to me, threw their beat up friend at them and told them the Sisters healed for free.

Venti is not uncaring or greedy. He tried to trace back the mora to whoever the Hoarders stole it from, was able to anonymously return half of it, and then kept the rest for himself in his reserve. He drunk heavy that night, attempting to wash down the guilt. It didn’t work. It never works. His drinking became minimal, when he actually wanted to enjoy it.

He doesn’t like remembering that night.

Venti makes his way to the square where his statue stood tall. He took out his lyre and played for the small crowd that gathered upon seeing him. He could always draw crowds. They began to place mora at his feet though he didn’t even place his cap down and began to ask him to sing various songs he was accustomed to. He performed every one, beginning to dance as he played, feeling enjoyment. The previous memories lay unforgotten as he performed. The crowd kept cheering for him and left mora at his feet and some taverngoers who knew him also gave him the apples they had on their person, knowing how much he loved the fruit.

When he finished with a final applause from the crowd and began to walk away, a boy tugged his cape, stopping him Venti looked down and saw a familiar face.

This is the boy with the pigeons, Timmie.

“Hi,” he smiled brightly, continuing to tug on Venti’s cape. “I really like your song!”

“Thank you. Did you want to hear another one before I go?”

“Well, not really,” he responded honestly. “You see, I always go to the Church, every time! But... some of the things I don’t understand. So…”

Venti already knew what he was alluding to. You see, the beauty of being a God that pretended to be human is that this would happen. You would have someone approach you and ask you about yourself. Morax is humble in the sense that he corrects any misunderstandings and discrepancies about himself. He would not overglorify his contributions, but still give himself credit when credit was due.

“You want to know about our God,” Venti nodded. “Everyone does, but He likes to keep His secrets.”

In his mind, Venti calls on a single Thread, these Threads looking much like himself when he were a mere Wind Spirit. This Thread weaved several memories into one, imparting him with the memories of Timmie. A smiling boy that holds sadness inside. He recently found out a cruel truth—his father is dead. That truth remained hidden in order to preserve his childhood. To give him wonderful memories to live for—but is it not a child’s nature to be curious? Is it not a child’s nature to want their family, to be loved and nurtured? Is that not which is juxtaposed with having a good childhood? The Thread sensed how annoyed I was. It quickly took it’s leave with reverence to me.

“My father is gone…”

He spoke, as if solidifying what the Thread already imparted onto Venti. He closed his eyes, his heart breaking in an instant.

“I thought he was very busy,” Timmie continued. “That’s what they all told me, but then…”

“They couldn’t hide it anymore,” Venti responded softly. “They were guilty, little one. They were scared for you. They didn’t want you to be sad, they wanted you to be happy.  You shouldn’t blame them.”

Though Venti himself did in fact, blame them, he would not try to make Timmie do the same thing and make him experience the same negative emotions he held—no, that wasn’t wise and not the kind of person he was. This, and Timmie did not seem convinced. His eyes remained melancholy, he fiddled with his hands and did not respond.

“Did you know that our Archon can guide anyone back here, regardless of where they are? Those who are living, those who have died. He can bring them back here. For those who are living, it is to remind them that they always have a place here. To those that have died, it is so they can rest freely in the land they were born to.”

“N-No,” Timmie sniffled, wiping away tears. “What do you mean?”

Venti closed his eyes.

“When you feel the wind blow in Mondstadt, it is never harsh. You pick Windwheel Asters that still spin in your hands  because the wind gives it life. You can always smell dandelions, the wind is crisp and welcoming. Storms are rare. Why do you think this is?”

“Because of… Lord Barbatos?”

Venti sighed. “Yes.”

Timmie did not sense his discomfort. Most of, if not all the reason why I chose to live “as a human” is so I do not embellish my own importance. I am still “me” when I want to be “me.” I was only a mere spirit when I was at my beloved bard’s side when Decarabian’s Tower fell. He would hold the title of Anemo Archon if he were alive today, and I would have not minded being mere decoration, resting my head on his lap. Anyway, I am used to telling everyone lies about “me.” Tall tales, never anything harmful. This is the reason why the Sisters do not like me all too much, likening me to just a drunkard with little intelligence. Having to tell my actual feats feels wrong.

“Then, my dad…”

“Is home. He has always been home, watching over you within the Winds where he will find peace knowing you can grow up happily and lead a good life.”

“Really?” Timmie’s eyes lit up, his sadness disappearing.

“Yes. I am sure of it.”

Venti smiled, feeling comforted himself.

Yet, all good things came to an end as he saw one of the Sisters glaring at him, soon coming towards him.

“What are you saying to that boy this time?” Sister Victoria approached him. “Your views on Lord Barbatos are not correct!”

Venti had little room to spare for any kindness or logical rebuttal. Timmie ran away. Of course, the boy would, with that fright in his eyes. The children loved his songs and tales. This should not be happening, but it was and if it continued, he’d draw a crowd for all the wrong reasons. He could not—should not give rise to this, yet he could not help himself.

“You have only lived on Teyvat for a fraction of how long it took Lord Barbatos to draw His first breath, yet you would call yourself a Lady of His Word by leaning on to words He did not bequeath?”

“I—I—” She was taken aback, not expecting such words from the bard. Quickly recovering herself, she continued with, “Don’t need my faith questioned by—”

“A drunkard like me?”

Livid, his eyes began to glow against his will and he crossed his arms. The wind converged around him, making the breeze suddenly grow in intensity.

Venti hissed, “You should be more concerned about finding that boy and consoling him as I was.”

He needed to leave before he couldn’t control himself and the connection between the mess from the morning and the winds changing now became obvious. Sister Victoria was smart enough to see the anger in his face and in his words and was unnerved. She took a step back.

“I will go and do that.”

She turned on her heel.

“Children of the Anemo Archon, heed these words: from the winds we have come, and with the winds we shall go. Never, ever grieve for me. ‘Tis but my flesh and bones which rest in the soil: my soul has become one with the Thousand Winds. When flowers bloom, when leaves sway, that is me who sings the songs of freedom, of the winds.”

While she did not turn around, Venti could sense her shock from her controlled flinch and slight pause. He was calmer. The Winds returned to normal.

He found amusement at The Cat’s Tail not so long after that.

Uncaring about the odd allergy he had towards cats, Venti asked Margaret for a private room where he would not be disturbed and ordered the tavern’s best drinks to consume. It was the only thing that was calming. Yet, he couldn’t lie to himself. He did miss the taste of Dandelion Wine though it wasn’t too long since he’d previously had it. At some point, he’d have to bribe one of the Angel’s Share regulars to buy him a couple of bottles he could preserve.

He closed his eyes after drinking his last glass. It wouldn’t be the first time he slept for a couple of hours in a tavern. Except this time, when he awoke later the sun was going down and a single Thread was nudging his cheek in desperation, the latter never happening unless something required his intervention. Venti rubbed his eyes and sat up from the couch.

“Speak.”

“My Lord,” The Thread responded. “There is trouble at the Goth Grand Hotel. New members of the Fatui unrecognized by ourselves have stepped into that place with urgency.”

Those idiots want to actually do something now?

“Go spy on them and learn their secrets, then report back to me.”

The Thread disappears. Venti stands and paces back and forth until the Thread returns nearly a hour later.

“The situation is dire, My Lord. I have found out that the Fatui have cruel intentions.”

“Elaborate.”

The Thread looked nervous.

“There—There is a mole. There will be a mole—They wish to assassinate the Master of Dawn Winery.”

Venti sat dawn slowly, looking at the Thread in disbelief.

“You are sure?”

The Thread nodded.

“Absolutely?”

Another nod.

And in true fashion, the Anemo Archon ordered another drink.

He was too sober for this.

[arrow-dodger]

When I was 12, my mom bought the soundtrack to The Phantom of the Opera movie with Gerard Butler. She must have gotten the CD from the bargain bin at Wal Mart or something. She started playing it all the time in the car, insisting she loved that kind of music (which she had never listened to before, as far as I'm aware).

I became obsessed with it almost immediately. I made her get me the movie and I watched it almost every night. At that age I hated Raoul because I thought he was lame and weak. The Phantom was my sexy sad boy and for some reason I thought I could fix him. No offense to Christine, but I was built different. The idea of being someone's entire world was very appealing to me, because I never felt important to anyone. I wanted someone to take me away to be theirs forever. That was a romance I could read fanfiction about for years to come.

I've always listened to it and watched the movie from time to time since, but I revisited it more specifically recently. It occurred to me that I only know the movie version of the songs, which are probably the worst ones, so I started listening to the original Broadway cast and the 2011 recording.

The vibe is... very different. I am very different. Gerard Butler's Phantom IS kind of a sexy sad boy in comparison, and the stage Phantom has much more "muahahaha" energy. I mean, he's a devious, cringe little bitch. But the thing is that he's also scary as hell. Actually, this entire thing has always been scary, and I was kind of blind to it because of how sexy Gerard Butler is, maybe. Listening now, it's a horror that sends chills down my spine.

Now as an adult the romance angle doesn't work the same. I've had men make me their entire world before and convince me they'd die without me living to care for them. I've had men give me things without me asking and then use that against me later. I've had men seek out my very specific weaknesses to exploit them in their favor. I've had men threaten violence and violate my personhood because they wanted to own me so badly. I had a man essentially brainwash me for so many years.

I always hated Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again as a kid. I thought the song was boring and would skip past it sometimes, because I just didn't get what it added. Now I get that it's the entire linchpin to the plot of this thing.

When I watch that scene now, I realize that Christine's trauma about the death of her father IS the plot. That's what all of this is about, in the end. During the Wandering Child bit afterwards, when I see her say "wildly my mind beats against you, but my soul obeys," I know that very feeling... and it isn't romantic, it's DARK. When she says she has endless longings, she doesn't mean she longs to have a sexy phantom boyfriend, she means she longs to feel safe! Feel loved! Protected! She wants to feel like her father is still around and looking out for her! And she spent all these years thinking she would get these things from this person who's convinced her he's an avatar of her dead father, who spends this song calling her a lost child who needs his guidance, specifically poking at the wound he knows she has to give himself the upper hand. That isn't hot! That's awful!

When I see Christine crying as she turns away from the Phantom at the end of the 2011 production, I don't think she's sad because she's in love with him too. I think she's sad because she's leaving behind this person who is the architect of her entire consciousness. Someone who has convinced her that they need each other, that they're each other's destiny. She's realizing that she needs to leave her father behind. When he says "Christine, I love you," she's hearing her father's voice. She doesn't know who she is without him, or if she'll completely collapse if she takes another step away. And bitch, same. I've been there too. I thought I'd die myself.

The angles that art can stab you from change with you as you age. Stranger than you dreamt it!

[fountainpenguin]

New Frayed Knots chapter today!

Chapter 32 - “Forecast”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Anti-Cosmo joins Wanda, Blonda, and Juandissimo for an end of semester trip to the lemonade bar. Gossip is had of love and counterparts. Blonda does her utmost to ensure her study buddy has a grand night out.

(First 1300 words under the cut)

The two weeks leading up to migration season were some of the longest in my entire immortal life. And yes, I say that even as a drake who spent 68,000 years of his childhood stuck inside a genie's lamp. Professors are asked not to require heavy exams outside of the Leaves years, so my semester had been burdened with essays, pop quizzes, and research assignments that frankly left me washed up and wilted. And even though I passed most of my classes with flying colours, that single star grade from Dm. Fallenleaf haunted my conscious mind. It didn't matter, somehow, that Blonda had received an equally poor score on her final essay. I tried to tell myself she was a fairy, that I too had misunderstood the assignment and deserved my failing grade, and yet…

I genuinely think my low score was thrust upon me because I'm an Anti-Fairy. Am I allowed to report this? My student handbook doesn't exactly detail step by step instructions for protesting against this sort of thing.

I didn't feel like I could. Every time I considered approaching the school staff, I imagined they'd cite Blonda's low score as evidence that I wasn't being unfairly singled out. I don't know… I don't invest enough time and research in politics that immediately affect me. Somehow, it always seemed easier to campaign for Council Robes than to stand directly in front of someone and explain why I was hurting. I think… For Anti-Fairies, verbalising that distress can be a challenge.

Funny. Everyone in my creche knew exactly how peeved I was by my low score. I didn't do a thing to hide it, and they offered all their comforts until the tears I was wiping off weren't ones of pain anymore. And yet… Blonda herself? The one who ought to have been my "companion in crime?" … I hung out with her (to use the modern term) the following day because we had our potion making class together. But the skim through the hallway, the two hours of preparing our cauldron, the little campus bakery we stopped by afterward… Well, she rambled on and I spoke back as best I could, but I largely didn't know what to say.

See, Blonda had an intense personality at the best of times, though the way she carried it - sort of stifling herself and backing down fast - made it clear she was still recovering from a lifetime of being suppressed by her family and forced to play a softer role. Fairies have never looked fondly on twins, and particularly younger twins… I think lookalikes remind them far too much of their Anti-Fairy counterparts. Blonda fell on the side of those who flap their wings widely when frustrated. As we exited the bakery and stepped out on the sparkly pink walking path, I stayed slightly ahead of her. This gave me the opportunity to busy myself with soft pings of echolocation. So, I simply tried not to say anything that might offend. At least… up until I was nearing the end of my pumpkin bread snack. When Blonda's ramblings drew to a lull, I turned on my heel and began walking backwards instead.

"Blonda, can I offer you some genuine advice?"

She tugged the collar of her pale blue coat, looking faintly rosy as the true extent of her chatter settled in. "I'll always take it from you, Anti-Cosmo."

"Never change."

Evidently, this wasn't the advice she'd been anticipating. She jolted at the shoulders. Her fingers squeezed around the cinnamon roll in her hands (which had already been tossed around quite a bit in all her waving, I might add). "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't cease airing your grievances to trusted friends who support you, even if you don't receive any touches in return. An Anti-Fairy wouldn't normally do this sort of thing with a Fairy- as in, seeking comfort and using only words… And yet, you make speaking to you so easy that I myself have confessed my cultural frustrations to you - touchless - and felt mostly better after it." I smiled at her thinly. Blonda stared back at me with eyes stretched wide. "What I'm saying is, you're allowed to feel disheartened. I applaud you for seeking friends who value your company, strive to lift your spirits, and hurt when you hurt. I promise… Healing will come in time."

Blonda released her cinnamon roll, keeping it airborne with a spark of energy, and gathered her hair in a loose pegasustail. "Oh, you always sound so sure of yourself."

"Believe me, I'm not."

"Well, never change. You sound confident. Though I don't mind saying, as a friend… You might want to consider a wardrobe upgrade. You've been wearing the same signature outfit since lower school."

I looked down at my sleeveless shirt - the black one featuring a simplified version of the Anti-Fairy zodiac - and hummed in thought. As a culture, Fairies oft preferred to nail down a specific "look" for themselves at the start of an Aurora Fairyalis cycle. They'd fill their wardrobes with numerous of the same outfits and stick to them like sprites to fur. The aurora hits every 5,000 years and I'd been wearing identical versions of my favourite sleeveless top for the last three. It hadn't bothered me while I was out of school and travelling regularly, but if I intended to stay in one place much longer, Blonda had a point. "Yes, I suppose I'm not an adolescent anymore… Perhaps I'll look into that next year. After migration season." Migration would be a nice time to catch up on a little reading. I hadn't read a fashion book in 10,000 years or more.

I'd been using this same look since Mickey Peridot was still alive. That thought made my stomach scootch into a little corner. His death felt so recent and yet so far away.

Blonda nodded. "And your shorts are getting short… unless that's intentional. I don't judge."

Hm. Her lighthearted tone made my ears twitch. "How do you mean?"

"Your, ah… slip is showing."

I glanced over myself again, this time more critically, and realised she was right. I really don't know how the Seelie do it, but proper Zodii Anti-Fairies, at least, always wear single-piece undergarments the same colour as our element on the zodiac. If we wore it in separate pieces, it would be far more likely to bunch or flop and become terribly uncomfortable when we hang upside-down. The hem of my water-blue leg sleeve just barely stuck out below the hem of my shorts. I tugged the white fabric down automatically, then shrugged at Blonda. "Yes, I may be outgrowing this look in more ways than one… I've really not made fashion a focus of my life. Any suggestions?"

As I stood admiring myself, Blonda leaned far to one side, apparently sizing me up from this new tilted angle. Then she nodded. "A suit. A black one, I think… unless you find a nice option in navy blue. You've got the monocle to pull off a classy gentledrake's look if you just freshen up your clothes."

I made a face. I wore the monocle because glasses weren't made to sit upon Anti-Fairy ears. Some years ago I did try switching back, but so many of my peers bombarded me, asking why I bothered to wear two lenses when I'm blind in my left eye, so I quickly gave that up. True, my preferred monocle might work as a smashing accent to the right outfit, but did I even want to bother? Was that style for me? "Dressing daily would be a pain, luv… I'll have to think about it."

[faerieinferngully]

trigger warning (just overall)

even tho i hope nobody rly sees this i just want to say SOMETHING even if it's to a void.

i can't get over it. i can't get over how many times i tried to tell someone and then nothing happened, and when i finally just came out and said it, i was called a liar and am still being called a liar. how nobody could see what was going on. is it because i couldn't remember the details correctly? im sorry that 12 year old me couldn't recall the rape an molestation of what started when i wasn't even potty trained yet. im sorry i couldn't give exact dates and im sorry i didnt save the underwear he took off of me. im sorry that your kids having a father was mor important than getting them away from a rapist. im sorry for my siblings for backing out and being called liars and being told that i was the one that told them to, i didn't. i told you to ask them because i fucking knew what was happening every time you were gone and he wanted to play hide n seek n he switched from counting with me in the room with all the lights off to one of them. he was doing the same thing to them. you can even see the effects of it in them. one is too scared to go anywhere and hates being away from home or her family and the other has been hypersexual and hyperfixates on sex since he was little. you can see everything i am in him and i dont know if it's because i know why i was like that when i was little that i see it so clear or if it's just that blatantly obvious that you're choosing to ignore it. i don't know if you really thought i was lying or you just didn't care and wanted a family that wasn't broken. you didn't get it. im sorry to my siblings and friends for when i was stuffing powder in my nose and swelling down little pebbles and drinking fluids i thought would make it go away. i was a shitty person and there are people im unable to apologize to and i respect their need to be away from me. i know im better off without the medicated candies and the sour liquid, but i can't help but miss it. it made me feel better but it was at the cost of others. i can get past the people that have beaten me, but i can't get past being raped and i don't know why. maybe it's because the first one who did it was someone who was so loud about hating it. did he start when i was a baby or did he wait until i was a toddler because he liked seeing me try to get away from him? everyone knows i "lied" about him doing it, very few people know that it was never a lie. i remember in third grade when we lived in the townhouses, and i told my neighbors. one of them told me her brother did the same thing to her, we told our friend. we both went back and took it back. i didnt know why she did it, but now i see it was the same reason i did, that we were scared. we were scared of what was going to happen to us. we were scared of what was going to be said, what our families were going to do. i wish i protected my siblings from it. but i didnt, and i couldnt. i know people have told me i was a baby myself, it wasnt my duty, but it was. i was the oldest, i am the oldest. i shouldve made sure they were never alone with him, but i couldn't find the courage to get us out. i was a fucking coward and i'll never be able to forgive myself for it. i hate myself for letting it happen to them. i hate myself for so many things but that is the main thing that will always be burning within me. i wish i told her sooner, because even though she got back with him, he stopped afterwards. something i've always found funny was that when he was allowed to be with us again, he took me to the store with him alone. i remember being terrified he was going to go off the path we were walking to touch me more. but he asked why i lied. we were alone. he had no reason to accuse me of lying when he asked in the same townhouse if i "like what we're doing" and acted hurt when i said no. we always called it "tickling" because that's what it started as. he would always start tickling me and then pul my pants and underwear down and start rubbing it there. then he would keep going until the time we were alone and quiet (when someone else was in the house) would seem weird, because none of us kids were

[fate-magical-girls]

As ambitious as her brother is, he will never match her ambition. After all, he grew up knowing he has a possibility of inheriting the crown, while she grew up knowing she could not depend on the normal order of inheritance. A chaser of a possible dream and a chaser of an impossible dream; how great of an ambition is needed to make the impossible possible?

She should leave the treaty negotiations to the ambassadors, but she makes the journey in person, with her King along as an accessory. Perhaps she just wants look upon a reminder of her past. Perhaps she wants to to compare her past with what she has now.

Her brother has the same idea. They meet in a manor on a lake island in a neutral territory -- King and Queen, of same blood but opposing nations.

The Queen clutches her husband's hand extra tightly as remorse flashes across her face. She regains her composure quickly, but silently chides herself for this show of weakness, especially as her brother shows no such trepidation.

"Royal Brother, and my dear sister," he greets her and her husband with all due gentility, "It gladdens my heart to meet you under these auspicious circumstances, where the friendship between our nations shall hopefully be restored."

"Dear Royal Brother," she greets him, likewise with rehearsed lines, "I too am overjoyed at seeing you safe and sound. Our bonds of friendship were never broken."

Her husband murmurs his own greeting. With that, all formalities are done, and they proceed to talking business over breakfast.

As the victor, the Queen is the first to make demands. She wants reparations for the unprovoked invasion, the annexation of certain seized lands, and free access to a major port. Her brother listens, and then makes his counter-offer: reparations will be paid provided certain noble hostages are freed, access can be given to the port with reduced tariffs, but as for the lands...

"High-minded, virtuous queen, I beg you recall the love that our mother and father showed us and the happy days we spent in our native lands, and allow your natural affection to guide the terms you shall set out for us."

"Perhaps it is because of my natural affection for my native land, that I now long to associate myself with part of it." She replies, mildly annoyed by his moralizing tone.

The conversation goes on. With every offer and counter-offer, her brother brings up their blood relation. She realizes that he has observed her moment of vulnerability and is seeking to capitalize on it.

It is an appeal aimed as much at her as it is toward all observers and scribes. He means to have the world at large judge her for any demands she makes of her natal nation. Even if their familial ties had been technically severed when, during her wedding, she drank down the sacramental wine mingled with the blood of men from her groom's family, adopting her into her new family.

He knows, as well as she does, that simple ceremonies do not erase the truth of one's origins...

Fine. She'll lull him into a false sense of security then. Let him think he's found a way to soften her heart, and then turn the tables on him. She just has to find an opening, a momentary lapse in words...

And her king creates the perfect opportunity.

"You're the one who attacked us!" He snaps, as his brother-in-law makes another cloying plea. Immediately afterwards he shrinks back, looking toward his wife to see if she disapproves of his outburst.

She pets his hand without matching his gaze, all her attention on her brother.

"My Lord speaks the truth. Our ties of blood provide me with a natural affection toward you and my natal home, but they must also inspire affection within you. So what has so displeasured my royal brother that you would rather continue to set flesh against blood, than to show generosity to me?"

Now she is the one using their undeniable familial link against him.

"You sue for peace, and I shall give it, for I am generous. Yet I also ask for you to grant me what is mine by right."

Her brother tenses, the first crack in his calm and charming facade. The queen smiles, knowing she has cornered him.

"After all, as we are siblings bound by blood, does it matter if it be you or I who holds these castles?"

She doesn't get to keep every territory that she demands -- she must show her consideration toward her brother, after all -- but she does gain land for her kingdom

I think the funniest dynamic for arranged-marriage royalty would be a queen who came here 100% prepared to murder her future husband and rule as a widow queen in her own right, only to discover that the king is autistic as hell and responds to her wish to rule with "oh thank god please do, I don't want to be bothered by these people. I can just tell them to go bother you instead, if you really want that. I've got beetles I wanted to study."

[ninelivesastrology]

And people have been like, "But you're a woman! But you're so pretty! You can have anyone you want!" And they're not saying the quiet part out loud... "because you have a vagina." So yeah, a man who exploits me for my vagina. Easy. My vagina could be anyone else's vagina. But I'm supposed to feel special because it's my vagina. That's the trade off. Being a sex object. Which is fine when it's on your own terms, but I saw this post last night on r/TwoxChromosomes talking about the casual sex and the girls are tired. There were a few comments that I felt at one point or another.

Secretly, I want it up until it's happening and unless its absolutely toe curling mind shattering. i'm eager for it to be over. to get out. to leave. I just am at a point with casual sex where I just have zero desire to cuddle, even if i need that aftercare. i just ..i crave the warmth of actual physical intimacy with someone that I care about and cares about me

Sometimes people are unobtainable, and have been for awhile. There are absolutely times when I know who I am most interested in is completely unavailable to me, so I am willing to engage romantically/sexually with other people.

Friends with benefits is great and all as long as both people don't forget the friends part

This. I tried a few ONS but ya it was garbage. FWB is definitely a better situationship. I'm mid 30s now and I need more than just you're cute but dating is fuckin exhausting

I've had it in the past to try to forget people I was stuck on, also had casual sex with guys I wanted to actually date hoping it would turn into something more, but they always dumped me afterwards. And each time it just felt empty. So empty. I'd often cry and cry. So I don't seek it. Just like you said, it scares me when I'm attracted to someone now because men in general just want casual these days and its a recipe for disaster for me to go for it. I find myself having periods of celibacy extending to 3yrs

Lord, even the queer girls

Thank you for sharing these feelings, I didnt know how I felt about casual sex but I recently hooked up with a girl on a second date because she made it seem like she was interested in continuing to get to know me. Little did I know it was a one night stand for her & she ghosted me after the sex. I barely knew this girl but she had been telling me sweet things, cuddling, convincing me she liked me as a person. When i realized it was just for sex I felt so used I definitely let myself cry a bit.

And I even me at my most confident just deters people. I feel like I deter people, that I'm never approached.

The last time I was approached, I fucking was blind as fuck, trying to get home, didn't know what stop I was at. It was night time and I can't see at night.

I don't have my glasses or contacts because my Q was sabotaging money, stealing it and hiding it, stressing me, blah blah blah and I couldn't go to a doctor.

So anyway, I'm on the bus and I fucking open my dumbass mouth and ask a question about directions. Totally valid for my situation. Right, so this dude, drunk as fuck, smelling like a cocktail bar squeezes in front of me and for the next thirty five minutes, I have to be near him because the bus is fucking cramped.

He told me I looked like his daughter. And other shit. Just know it was bad. And I'm like, "Why do I attract alcoholics/addicts why what do I do to deserve this? I just got rid of one," like I'm blaming myself and mind you, he's so drunk and talking to me and all I can think about is how he probably can't get hard.

Like I don't know, there's a certain disdain I feel when someone has to be drunk to approach me romantically. It also makes me feel like I'm ugly? Violent flashbacks to my relationships where my alcoholics would throw themselves at me.

You don't know pain until you're in missionary and someone is sweating the alcohol out all over you, like GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF! Trauma. Trauma.