#boy is as destructive as land mines

[inkshadow]

his eyes roll, tongue wetting his lips as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. ❝ that's what you're into now? you downgraded. i shouldn't have to change. you seemed to like me just fine when we went out. ❞ though maybe it's his lack of change that rendered their relationship broken. ❝ i'm not punishing you. what? i can't give my opinion on the guy? ❞ the extraordinary amount of scotch has loosened his tongue to the point of no return but its not the liquor's fault they ended up at the same place at the same time. ❝ you just happened to be here, you can't be pissed off at me for that. plus, my dignity fell in the gutter the moment my parents disowned me; don't try and play high and mighty with me. i don't have to listen to you. ❞

nari scoffs at how blunt he's being. something she once admired about him, she now despised. "maybe that's what i'm into now. people can change, can't they? you obviously haven't," she argues, glaring at him. a laugh escapes her, although it's entirely bitter. "yeah, right. you're upset because we broke up - which wasn't even all my fault - and now you're trying to punish me for it. i won't allow you to so you can just leave me alone and find another woman to torture." she finally lets go of him, only wondering what her boyfriend might've been thinking right now. "you're a mess. if you care about your dignity even a little, you'll go home and sleep it off."

[ghostieblr]

Peter's Vows

When Derek is born, there is an earthquake. Beacon Hills is many things, but it is not a place of earthquakes. This is an anomaly, this sudden shaking of the land, and Peter watches Talia go through the pain of birthing a cub, and he makes note of how her cries resonate with the moving earth. As the baby is brought to the world of the living, the earth shakes more; giddy, Peter thinks of the land. Giddy at this baby's birth. That's what it is.

The town reels with the destruction, however minimal it seems to be. It is the strangeness of the earthquake that has the people in a panic, and it takes two days of Mayor Yukimura calling for council meetings and community barbecues that they begin to somehwat calm down.

The baby is named Derek on the first day itself, born underneath the Nemeton, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight in silver hues. Talia sobs with relief, Nathan beside her, stroking her hair. Laura is back at the pack house, safely tucked in the bed, the rest of the pack members keeping watch. Talia had wanted to bring her with them, fearing the worst of the anomaly, but their mom had convinced her to not do it. The birth of the Alpha's cub is a big deal, but it is also private: only the Mate, Emissary and Left Hand are allowed to be present, for comfort, safety, and protection, respectively.

It has been tradition since ages, and Talia is the last person to break it.

Derek is a calm baby. Sleeps through the night, doesn't cry for attention. Only does it for feeding, his survival instinct as strong as his lungs. Peter adores him, even if he may never admit it to anyone.

He is also curious about the boy. Why an earthquake? It cannot be a coincidence. Truly, he wonders how some people can be so dumb. Calling it a coincidence is insulting to the Powers That Be, which must have called upon such a natural reaction of the land for a reason. Derek is a special boy, and Peter vows to find out how.

Besides his incredibly compassionate heart, that is.

It is in his eyes, which have slowly turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, the kindness of him. Derek's trust is not so easily earned, but once it is, it is extremely difficult to dislodge it.

Derek is a boy destined to become a kind man, one that will be an Alpha with mercy in his heart but cunning in his mind. Peter sees the makings of it right from the beginning, the way the boy will procure solutions to his own problems as well as those he deems important to him. Laura is the first born and thus has the claim to being the next Hale Alpha, however Peter knows, somehow, perhaps instinctually, that Derek will be the Alpha.

Another piece of the puzzle falls in place when their emissary falls pregnant. She's an amazing woman, Claudia. Peter likes her wit and humor, and he enjoys the perspective of her husband, the deputy, and if luck is on his side, soon-to-be Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Peter is happy for the couple.

He is, also, astonished to see an almost five-year-old Derek climb onto Claudia's lap one morning, his small fists rubbing against his eyes, and his nose scrunching determinedly to find a scent.

Peter remembers the conversation well.

"Derek, honey? What are you trying to find?"

"Mine," is what Derek growls in reply to Claudia, and shoves his nose against her barely-showing belly.

Peter's laughing figure is shot out of the end of the couch and onto the floor by Claudia's impeccable throw of one of the decorative pillows from said couch.

Thereafter, it was peculiar but not unseemly to find Derek following beside Claudia, his whole little being focused on the life forming inside her. And when the night came, Peter wasn't at all surprised to witness the thunderstorm.

Claudia had plans of giving birth in the hospital, but due to miscalculated steps, or simply because of reasons not privy to them, the best possible option left for her seemed to be below the Nemeton.

John had lost his damn mind at the prospect. "It's raining! Heavily!"

"Talia gave birth in an earthquake," Claudia says through gritted teeth, "And the baby doesn't care, nor do I, John. It is—"

Her words are cut off by another scream, and she is right, of course. It is time.

Talia, John, and Peter are the only ones who should go with her, but Derek, the little sneaky wolf that he seems to have become, follows them. It isn't until halfway through that John, the human, realizes his presence first.

They move forward with the determined little boy, who is all sopping wet in his wolf onesie, and really, this is no laughing matter. Except it is.

Claudia is brought below the Nemeton, and the tree, big and branching and beautiful, hums in their presence. The canopy of it sheds them some, but not completely.

And so, under hard rain and sharp thunderstorms, Mieczysław Stilinski is born, his little body almost white under the moonlight, and his eyes, when they open, a shock of topaz, like a glinting jewel; a fallen angel, Peter thinks.

Derek carefully wraps the baby in the blanket Talia removes from the packed bag, her movements locked onto her son's and the baby's, while John tends to his wife.

Peter watches. He notes the way the baby is calmest in Derek's arms, the way Derek is mesmerized.

This is more than just being True Mates.

True Mates itself are the rarest of occurrences, but something tells him this is more than that. The earthquake, and this sudden rain, in April of all things, simply cannot be coincidence. There must be a reason, one that Peter must uncover.

In the coming years, he dedicates his time to the quest, and finds that, oh, this is something unique indeed.

Unique to the point of legend.

Of course, he gathers facts before telling anyone. Derek's control goes onto the list, as does his ability to switch between his shift as easy as breathing. Having such control at the age of seven is almost impossible, but he has it without the growing ego that would have inflated anyone else's with the amount of praise he gets.

Stiles, as Derek had nicknamed Mieczysław almost immediately post his arrival in the world, is no human. His mother's line has some pretty strong magical abilities, but the kind of power that this boy exudes surpasses imagination. Nobody notices at first, not even Peter, until Stiles is a couple of months past his third birthday. It truly isn't until Derek, almost nine, comes down from his room one day into the kitchen, says, "Which packet, Stiles?" that they realize it.

"Honey, he isn't a wolf. He cannot hear you," Nathan tells him, but Derek just shrugs.

"He is for today."

Peter hears the, "Blue one! Blue one! Blue is sooo pretty, Derek!" from Stiles, who is definitely sitting in Derek's room, upstairs.

Derek grabs the blue packet and goes upstairs, and Peter follows, followed by Talia and Nathan, who beckon Claudia as well.

Stiles sitting on the floor, a myriad of toys around him, while the packets of chips sit beside him, torn open, evidently by Derek's claws, who himself is playing with Stiles.

And they're both being fed flying chips.

The three wolves turn to Claudia as one. Her shaking head and awed face is enough to clue them in, and really, Peter thinks, this is fucking incredible.

Powers don't manifest as early as this in magic wielders. They're more of the puberty package, tied to emotions at the beginning rather than will.

This is... defying it.

Peter loves to see when the next piece of the puzzle will fall.

And it does oh so enticingly.

Years later, when Derek is fourteen and Stiles is almost nine, comes the first trial. The Alpha Summit & The Argent Treaty.

Peter doesn't believe Gerard's words to do no harm, so he sets up precautions in place. It pays off, because during the summit, he almost ends up blinding Deaucalion — something that could have turned super bad if left unchecked.

Gerard's attack is met with swift retaliation, but somehow, only his goons end up dead. Gerard himself remains free, and through sheer will, maybe, the old man manages to kidnap Laura.

By the time the adults sniff out their cub, they're too late.

Not in the sense of Laura being hurt, but in the terms of missing the action, somewhat.

When they enter the warehouse, they are faced with Gerard being held down by a black wolf, fangs around his neck, the eyes of the creature a deep, ruby red. Deeper than Talia's. At first, they all assume it to be one of the visiting Alphas, but then they realize Stiles' presence, too, and it clicks.

Stiles frees Laura from the painful looking electric rod, and comes back to Derek, coaxes him back to his human form as Peter and Nathan take care of the psychopath.

Laura lets Talia mother her, and then says, "We'll have two Alphas."

Talia looks at the now human Derek, and eyes shining with pride, she nods. "Come here, both of you," she beckons, and the boys run, Stiles' chattering a comforting sound for all of them.

A few weeks later, Derek admits to everyone he has a new friend, and talks about her often. Paige this, Paige that. Laura teases him, restrained in her words, trying not to upset Derek's control. Even Cora pulls back. Stiles, though, is almost worse.

He riles Derek to the point of him using his Alpha voice to shut up, and the whole Pack silences itself, even Talia. Stiles, though — an exception to all things sane — doesn't back down. The voice doesn't work on him, and Derek isn't phased by it. However, the smell of guilt filters through their home, and Stiles' sigh is followed by comforting words. There is no apologizing though.

Soon, they'll learn from Derek himself that he hates that everyone is walking on eggshells. That is why he kept bringing up Paige, so that someone would tease him, uncle Peter, Laura, Cora. Or that Stiles would rile him up.

"Why would he, though? He should be happy for you. I am." Cora's words are met with a laugh from Derek, and a groan of embarrassement from Stiles.

"He's weirdly possessive — don't push me, you know you are."

"Alright," Stiles sighs, "I am."

"And Paige is a great friend, but I don't nearly think about her as much as I might have let you all believe."

And that is when Peter sees it. The blink-and-you-will-miss-it purple flash of Stiles' eyes. Peter doesn't put thought into why now; he simply focuses on completing the puzzle.

And he does. True Alpha and Purple Eyes? That's easy.

That's legend.

Set in stone as the first Alpha and the first Emissary as well as Spark, who, arguably, also set in stone the sword of Excalibur.

That part of the legend has questionable sources, though. Sure, Merlin Emrys is, as per theories, the most powerful sorcerer of all time, and Arthur Pendragon the greatest ruler, the once and future king, but it doesn't have as much merit.

What Peter is sure about is that somehow, the Powers That Be decided that this is the pack to send these two to.

He watches Stiles argue about the best type of pasta with Derek, and thinks, suddenly, that perhaps this is their happy ending. What legends end happy? None. So this must be their time to be happy.

Peter vows another quest, then. To always protect Derek and Stiles.

[writing-with-yours-truly]

Pete Mitchell (Top Gun Maverick) x reader: Returned favor

Warnings: Swearing

Additional information: No use of Y/N.

Requested by: N/A

-------------

My eyes flutter open and all I see around me is white. Small flakes of white drop on the exposed parts of my still body. Is this what heaven looks like? I guess not, since I'm not flying. I remember my crash. Maverick was out of flares, and so I went behind his plane, and used my flares to protect him, before getting taken down by a SAM. I just lay there on the ground for a moment. Until I hear whirring from what sounded like behind and above me. Only one type of machine makes that sound. I sit up and frantically look around. Shit. Shit. An enemy aircraft. Aimed right for me. The machine guns on the front quickly started warming up, so I run with all my might towards a nearby tree trunk laying on the floor. I just barely made it. Chunks of the tree had been shot off. Soon, the shooting stopped, but then the aircraft moved around to face next to me. The trunk of the tree cannot save me now. The guns started to whir up, and I braced. But the bullets didn't come. I was saved. An F-14 had just flown in and exploded the helicopter. The fiery skeleton of the helicopter landed to the ground with a loud crash, fire following suit. They just saved my ass. Thank God. Who was it, though?

I watch the F-14 as it goes to circle around, but a SAM follows it. Oh, shit. The missile hits the tail end, and it sends the aircraft down, wrecking in the distance somewhere. I found myself jump out of my own skin "Oh, god!" I exclaim to myself. Fortunately, I saw a parachute deploy, and a body was still in the parachute's grasp. The crash site didn't seem too far from me. A minimum of a half mile from my exact location. I stood up from my crouched position, and started on my cautious walk to the crash. I want to know who flew all the way back to the mission to save my ass. That was risky, gambling with an expensive plane like that. Especially for one person. They have family. I don't have anything to risk. It took forever to just get over to the site, as I had to be incognito due to enemy aircrafts surveying the area, due to the runway's destruction.

...

Finally, after what felt like an hour, I could make out the plane, and someone nearby it. I squinted enough and saw none other than...Maverick. So I save him and he returns the favor? Boy do I have some words for him. Coming down here, risking his life to save mine. I stormed over to him. Once he saw my boots in front of his, he looked up at me. "Are you alri --" I push him. "What the hell are you doing out here?!" I exclaim at the Captain. "Saving your ass!" He answered. "I saved you!" My voice was stern, and sounded like a mother's voice when she is scolding a child. "So I saved your life!" He yelled back at me. I rolled my eyes. The silence thickened for a few minutes. "Glad you came back to save my ass. Though I never asked." "You don't need to ask for a knight in shining armor." My response was an exaggerated eye roll. I put my hands on my knees in attempt to catch my breath. Yelling in thin air and cold wind really takes your breath away. Once the air came back to refill my lungs, I asked him a question. "How will we get back?"

...

"You're kidding me." I say as we look upon the enemy airbase. "Nope." Maverick answered, looking into a hangar. Smoke filled my lungs and the sound of alarms screeching replayed in my ear. The gust of wind blew the smoke towards the left and a plane came into view. I coughed as I got a lungful of the air. "Mav... Don't tell me..." I gasped, looking at the older aircraft. "It's our only choice." He looked at my face, noticing high levels of uneasy on my features. "Maverick, we haven't flown one of these since we first started!" His hand slipped into mine, causing a warmth to heat my face up. "You'll be fine. We'll be fine." He assured me, looking into my eyes. "You can't promise that." I answered, eyes watering. "I saved you so you could go home, and now...You might not. They can't risk any one else."

[diazsdimples]

👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼

I just love Alfie so much 😭

You and me too 🥹 pls enjoy 30 sentences of tiny boy!

Buck watches his son toddle across the lawn with the bucket over his shoulder. The tools weigh it down, giving him a slight list to the left, but the fiercely independent toddler bats away Tommy’s hand as he reaches to help him. “No, Papa!” Alfie exclaims, levelling Tommy with the grumpiest frown he can muster. “Mine!” Tommy holds his hands up in surrender and backs off, leaving Alfie to struggle towards Bobby and the vegetable patch on his own. “My apologies, sir, I did not mean to offend you. Please continue,” he says with a ridiculous posh accent, bowing low as Alfie powers past him. The bucket drags along the ground, but Alfie remains undeterred, finally reaching the edge of the veggie patch with a noise of triumph. “How did we end up with the most independent child ever?” Tommy complains as he flings himself onto the grass beside Buck. “He’s not even 2 yet!” Buck kisses Tommy’s pouting lips, his thumb stroking over Tommy’s cheekbone. “He’s not completely independent, he just likes to think he is.” He nods in the direction of the veggie patch where Alfie is now trying to heft the bucket up into the dirt, getting increasingly frustrated as the bottom catches on the wooden frame. “Would you like some help, Alfie?” Bobby asks politely. Alfie pouts – an expression he’s clearly picked up from Tommy, Buck muses – and holds the bucket up as high as he can. “Pease?” “Those are such good manners, well done!” Bobby praises as he lifts the bucket up and places it beside him, before snaking an arm around Alfie’s midriff and depositing him in the dirt beside him. “Now, can you get out the trowel and help me make little homes for these plants?” “Uh huh!” With all the precision and grace of a not-quite-two-year-old with poor fine motor skills, Alfie begins to dig into the dirt, flinging clods far and wide. Bobby dodges a ball of soil that flies towards his face, and little specs of dirt land on Alfie’s head, peppering through his blond curls. “Woah woah woah, hold on!” Bobby laughs as he circles a hand around Alfie’s wrist, halting the destruction before it can get too out of hand. “We need little holes! Let me help you.” “Noooooo,” Alfie whines, trying to twist and pull out of Bobby’s grip. “Mine!” “I’m not taking it from you, Alfie, I’m just going to show you how to do it and then you can continue. Is that okay?” It’s a testament to how much Alfie loves his grandpa that he begrudgingly lets Bobby take the trowel from him and sits in Bobby’s lap, watching intently as Bobby demonstrates the correct technique. “Has?” Alfie asks when Bobby finishes one of the holes, and Bobby hands him the trowel, but closes his hand over top of Alfie’s. “We can do it together, that sound okay?”

tagging @theotherbuckley @perfectlysunny02 @actuallyitsellie @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @bidisasterevankinard for interest 🫶

[pure-oddity]

Your rules, not mine

Simon x reader

Warnings: violence against a rowdy drunk - brief. Alcohol and bar mention.

Abrupt ending cause my birthday is this Monday so I get special privileges >:3

On the field he is deadly, lethal. A force of destruction leaving death and devastation in his wake.

Off the field he is simply Simon. He wears a mask, not the skull, but a surgical one. The scars attract eyes and the feeling of them sends alarm bells ringing - subconsciously ready to meet the next threat.

Simon takes walks around the city most days. Goes on runs in the mornings and just before bed. He stops at a butchers shop for his meats and the farmers market for his produce(just like his mama taught him).

Simon spends his days on leave (often forced, rarely voluntary) training and viewing the world he doesn't quite feel apart of.

He lives a disciplined life, governed by rules he's set in place for himself. His schedule is rather ironclad and his rules are as follows.

1. Avoid conflict. Simple, keeps his face off camera or video

2. If necessary take control and diffuse the situation, don't add fuel to the fire. Not hard either. He's rather large and can command a room like he does his soldiers.

3. If both 1 and 2 can't be followed, administer an appropriate amount of force equal to the threat level present. Rare, but it has happend. The hard part is knowing how hard to hit flesh and bone that's far softer and more frail than his own. But he manages.

With these rules in mind Simon does not tolerate bar fights. Nor does he entertain the words of a drunk that's too pissed to find which of his faces to punch. He either deescelates or leaves, simple.

However, you are not simon, and as such the rules above don't apply.

He doesn't fully remember what the prick said, he had his mask tucked under his chin, picking at the chips infront of him while his sun prattles on about anything and everything. Catching him up on 3 months worth of information within a single conversation - fast paced and overly exaggerated , just how he likes (from you. Only you.- soap gets about a minute in before he's wrestled to the ground).

He's sat in a way that his sun is shielded from view, hidden by his bulk. No one should be back here unless it's their waiter or they're coming to be seated.

The prick was neither. Him and his buddies were the rowdy group at the bar, Simon had him pegged as an aggressor the second he walked In- knew he'd be the one to start something.

And with his luck, Simon supposes, of course he had to become the drunkards target.

He spews something, simon too distracted by the fowl odor emitting from the man's mouth that he doesn't hear what it is.

But you hear it. He knows you does, because one second he's staring at a dry drunk who can't keep his spit in his mouth - the next he's watching a wet drunk splutter and stumble, wailing about a burn in his eye.

And if he were a lesser man the glass being thrown at the man's head would have startled him. Instead he turns to look at the angry blaze who's now stood up and griping the back of your chair- mm no. Let's stop that.

A beastish palm is quick to grab the leg of the chair and return it to the ground, undeterred he watches as you lunge forward at the blinded man. With a quick snap of a trunk like arm around, you're caught around the middle and pinned to his chest.

He holds you not unlike an unruly hostage, as you squirm with all the might and fight of someone with little left to lose.

"Say that again cocksucker, I fucking dare you! I'll fucking kill you I - let fuckin go! - I'll kill you!"

You land a kick against the man's chin and his teeth clatter together audibly, his buddies knocked from their shock have begun to swarm.

"Bring it you ugly cunts, I'll beat the shit out of each of you! "

Well..... Rule 3 it is then.

-------

"He! He said your - ohhh I'm so fuckin. I wanna go back, I wanna go back and hit him again-" you rant , enraged.

"Enough pet, enough. S' just words. I'm a big boy, nothing he said is getting under my skin" Simon huffs, amused.

"Which is why I'm letting it under mine! If you're not gonna shut assholes up, I am!" You insist, eyes determined.

An exasperated sigh. An oomph as your drawn into his chest. And the sagging of shoulders as he kisses your head.

"....I don't like when people are mean to you. Or rude to you. It makes me so mad...im sorry if I embarrassed you."

"Sunshine, had to walk across base with my cock out - not much left that can embarrass me."

"Back it up, you what-" she stops eyes wide and enthralled.

"Doesn't mean you can go flinging yourself into danger defending my honor." He continues.

"Like whole cock? Balls and all? In the breeze?"

"Very few people opinion actually matter to me. Yours, and my teams. What anyone else thinks is shit." He's valiant in his efforts to push forwards.

"Yea okay I get it, were you hard or soft - did you get a sunbur-"

The hand over your mouth keeps you quiet. You grin into his palm.

"Told you to distract you. Shoulda knew it would work TOO well." A long suffering sigh. "Let's go home sunshine, I want a shower and a couple hours of decent sleep." A pause.

"'m gonna lift my hand. You talk about my cock or balls and 'll making you sit in the back."

You nod and true to his word his hand is lifted.

[vryfmi]

it's skullyle thinking hour, here are some of my favourite This Is Literally Skullyle™ lyrics that turn me inside out

Depeche Mode - Speak to Me

Speak to me in a language That I can understand Tell me that you're listening Give me some kind of plan Give me something, you'd be my drug of choice You lead me, I follow, your voice I will disappoint you I will let you down I need to know you're here with me Turn it all around I'd be grateful I'd follow you around I'm listening, I'm here now, I'm found

Depeche Mode - Goodbye

I was always looking, looking for someone Someone to stick my hook in And pull it out and run Now I'm caught on your line All my thoughts are entwined In you Goodbye, pain Goodbye, again If you see me walking To the golden gates Then turn around, stop talking Stop and hesitate I'll be waiting up there With my fate in the air For you Goodbye [x11]

Anna Von Hausswolff - Stranger

But then, there is something moving against me It's not in line with the world I know Changing the heart, changing the spirit Changing my path, changing my soul My sight is clear, the colors are expanding I don't drown in the mirror on the wall There is no time, there is no face, there is no me I am following a shadow while I'm reaching for the sun But then you tell me I shouldn't worry You tell me to stay strong You tell me I shouldn't worry Why is this stranger in sync with my heart? I tiptoe here, I don't want you to see me I'm listening, I'm stolen by every word you say A dream is pulling out my heart and spirit And I'm scared to fall, I'm scared of death And I'm scared of all the lies But then you tell me I shouldn't worry Oh, you tell me to stay strong You tell me I shouldn't worry We're living now, let's live now, as we won't live for long

Daughter - Alone / With You

I hate sleeping alone Terrified with the lights out I hate living alone Talking to myself is boring conversation Me and I are not friends She is only an acquaintance I hate dreaming of being alone 'Cause you are never there Just a shadowy figure with a blank face Kicking me out of his place / I hate sleeping with you 'Cause you are never there Just a shadowy figure with a blank face Kicking me out of his place I hate living with you I should get a dog or something I hate walking with you Talking to myself is boring conversation You and I were once friends Now you're only an acquaintance I hate dreaming of being with you [x3] Terrified with the lights out [x2]

The XX - Together

You said you don't have to speak I can hear you I can feel all the things you've ever felt before I said it's been a long time Since someone looked at me that way It's like you knew me And all the things I couldn't say Together, to be Together and be

Medicine Boy - The Strange in Me

You have saved me To love is to be free I am tested endlessly But I won’t save you I am jealous and unkind and I think of you as mine So I won’t save you I have caged you, betrayed you and caged you and caged you and caged you / I would have done anything for you Bring you a devil make it sing for you But I’ll wrap you up in rubber and set fire to you ‘Cause that’s the only thing that I know how to do- You have changed me Rearranged me With all that you've changed, yeah yeah You set free the strange in me, strange in me, strange in me

Medicine Boy - Bag of Bones

I am the one calling you at night I come riding on the pale moonlight I am the knocking at your door I am the body you’ve forgotten lying on the floor I am the flower that refused to bloom I am the sun that sets too soon I am the fly sleeping on the wall I am everything that is, I am nothing at all I am the thorn sticking in your side I am your self-destructive, swollen pride I am the blood sucked from the land I am an unborn child, a sacrificial lamb I am your ever-growing indignation I am your pickpocket inspiration And I am big, so big, you see Without you there is no me My bag of bones Bring your body on home Sweet heart of stone, you’ve gone and left me all alone / I am the muscle, the bone, the fat I am the horns under your hat We are entwined you know it’s true Without me there is no you

Nine Inch Nails - Right Where It Belongs (v2)

See the animal in his cage that you built Are you sure what side you're on? Better not look him too closely in the eye Are you sure what side of the glass you are on? See the safety of the life you have built Everything where it belongs Feel the hollowness inside of your heart And it's all Right where it belongs What if everything around you Isn't quite as it seems? What if all the world you think you know Is an elaborate dream? And if you look at your reflection Is it all you want it to be?

[darklinsblog]

Nexus Event | Lucerys Velaryon Imagine

Summary: As the daughter of Morpheus and capable of controlling space, you prevent the death of Lucerys Velaryon.

Pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x Morpheus!Daughter reader

Part II

Author’s note: We love doing crossovers in this house, ofc. Also GIF’s mine so credit if you use it pls.

Note 2.0: OH HOW I’VE MISSED WRITING SPREES… should I do Part 2?

Life wasn’t as lovely in the Dreaming as one might think, your father was the mighty Sandman, The Prince of Stories, one of the Endless.

Your father adored you, you were his only child and even being half human and half Endless that did not matter in his eyes. He taught you all things about the Dreaming, the land he created and taught you how to control your own gifts.

You had the extraordinary ability to manipulate the matter, every single component you could shift to your liking and make something brand new if you pleased.

Morpheus was very proud of you but as you grew older, it was far more obvious that you wanted to see beyond the Dreaming.

So, when you were of proper age, you started going to the Waking World, you knew your father was the busiest man in the universe and you did not wish to disrupt his focus.

This time around you decided to take Lola a Griffin that your father had manufactured to celebrate your birth, you loved to surf upon the Waking World skies, feel free.

For a bit, it did feel like that, but this time around everything felt awfully quiet, dangerously quiet even.

A minute later, a boy emerged from the clouds, riding on a dragon’s back, his hair was wet, dripping even, his cheeks were rosy, his pupils dilated, he was obviously going through some sort of stress.

The boy looked in your direction, he didn’t say anything, he simply stared at you for what felt like an absolute eternity, but all the quiet was done when a massive monster emerged, with a platinum haired boy on his back, the monster’s mouth opened fully in direction to the boy and his dragon.

Out of reflex you and Lola launched towards the boy and his dragon as you screamed your lungs out, your eyes turning purple as your hands lifted upon the hair creating an invisible barrier-box in which you trapped the platinum blonde boy with an eye patch and his enormous dragon.

“I WILL GET YOU, TAOBA!” He roared quite profusely after trying to pass through the prison box you had created in the moment.

“You have to go, NOW” you muttered through your teeth as you were pulling strength from God knows where to keep the lunatic trapped at least enough for the boy to leave.

“Th-thank you…!” He stammered in utter shock.

“Y/N” you said loud enough for him to hear you

“Luke” he replied with a nervous smile before disappearing down on the clouds

As Luke was left to safety, the crazy person whom had become your prisoner was looking at you with a blinding ire.

“I will make you pay, you fucking cunt” he spoke deathly serious.

“Try never, pirate” you hissed through your teeth as you disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The experience itself was nerve-racking, you had just saved someone’s life while putting yours on the line. You knew it was best if you kept this venture to yourself, that your father never found out.

So, you and Lola sneaked back into the Dreaming but as you did you were greeted by the opposing side of your whole family in the main room.

Desire, Death, Destiny, Destruction, Delirium and of course, your father Dream.

Uh-oh.

“You have absolutely no depth on the course of your reckless actions!” Your uncle Destiny roared at you, as you sunk deeper into your seat, wanting to disappear from the face of Earth… you couldn’t believe you were being lectured on this.

“I saved someone’s life! Last time I came to thought of it, it was a decent thing to do!” You shot back utterly fed up with the situation.

Up until this moment everyone else was disturbingly quiet.

“The boy was supposed to die” Death spoke, looking at you with a regretful expression, your whole expression fell as well as your heart.

“…what?” You let out in a single breath, now looking for anyone’s gaze, trying to find some answers but no one had the strength to.

“Lucerys Velaryon was meant to die, he was the key to a civil war on King’s Landing’s history” Destiny went on “You have altered what was meant to be and created a nexus event in the process…”

“So what happens now…?” Your father asked, taking a stand for you, he knew the importance of the matter, this was the universal balance, what his family swore to protect.

But you were too, his daughter. This was him against the wall, Morpheus was splitting his heart in two, between his duty and his love as a father.

He knew you only meant to do good, that was who you were, that’s the little girl he raised, yet the truth of the circumstances we’re laying in front of everyone.

Your uncle let out an exhausted sigh as he touched his forehead.

“That’s just it, brother” he muttered. “I have no knowledge of what happens next”

“Are you saying…?” You suggested in pure disbelief, this could not be happening, this could not be real.

“We have gotten ourselves head deep into uncertainty!” Delirium crooked a nervous laugh, but it made the situation not any less tense.

Everyone was absolutely startled, confused even as a single question floated in the air but nobody had the courage to ask:

What had you done?

Taglist: @emiemiemii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @coolsnowker @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca @vvsdreaming

[mama-qwerty]

WIP Wednesday

Lookit! I remembered two weeks in a row! WOOOO

Today's WIP bit is from the unintentional second chapter of the kaiju fic. I started it yesterday and am about 2400 words in. I have no idea if I'll finish it, but I've been having some other ideas pop into my head for it, so maybe it'll turn into (yet another) multi-chapter fic?

This one is from Knux's pov.

Read the whole thing on ao3!

~~~~~

Six months.

It’d been six months since Knuckles returned to his planet. Since those bastard versions of his friends yanked the cracked chaos emerald from his eyes and tossed him through a portal back to his original world. The pain had been excruciating, both from the removal, and the way his body shrank and reverted to a mortal form.

Not his original form. No. He’d been in the kaiju form too long for that.

But a mortal form. One that didn’t heal almost instantly from injuries. One that didn’t mutate and reshape itself to be even more deadly, more efficient at killing. At destroying.

One that wasn’t as painful, every second of every day.

There was still pain. There would always be pain. He was sure of that. His joints ached. His back. His head. But it wasn’t as sharp or jagged as when he was a monster.

He was blind now. The first shard had done that when he’d transformed the first time. When a shard took control, it usually migrated to the eye socket, essentially taking a front row seat to piloting the body. He’d had a kind of funhouse mirror vision when it had been there. Everything looked crooked and stretched, tilted and angular. It hurt his head, and only fed the anger inside. The rage.

Of course, the twisted version of Amy that had apparently been shrunken and hidden in his ear, whispering doubts and feeding his insecurities didn’t help matters. It was her voice, disguised as his own, that made him question himself in the weeks leading up to that fateful day. That urged him on in the kaiju form, commanding him to kill. To destroy.

She’d spurred his rage, taking delight as he destroyed the city he so loved. Every town and village he’d come across. Everything in his path had been rendered to splinters. To ash. To death.

Once she’d shown herself, he’d tried to end her, but she’d implanted something in his head that delivered painful shocks if he disobeyed. So he’d gone with her as she led him through a portal, to a twisted and insane version of Tails.

And together, they’d caused the same trail of death and destruction on other worlds. Other universes? He wasn’t entirely sure of the details. But he saw other versions of Sonic. Of Tails. Amy.

Himself.

It was strange and frightening, and he wanted to stop, didn’t want to hurt anyone, but the shards implanted in his eyes and the punishing shocks he received if he faltered made him move. Made him kill.

But after a while, he didn’t know how long, the rage inside him faded. Even the shocks and pain didn’t make him act. The false Tails had been angry with him, but then his lips curled into the twisted smile, before he pulled a device from his big box of horrible inventions.

“Aw, is the big boy too tired?” he’d said, his high-pitched voice cracking in that demented laugh he always had. “Tut, tut. Well then, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll just take what’s mine and let you go back to live out your pathetic little life. Doesn’t that sound fair?”

The Amy behind him had tittered. Even to Knuckles’ monstrous ears, she sounded insane.

Then there’d been pain. Literal, blinding pain. The twisted fox had pulled the two chaos emerald pieces from Knuckles’ eyes, resulting in a deafening, pain-filled roar before he’d gone to his knees. His body changed, shrinking and shriveling and tightening as the chaos energy within him faded.

And then they’d chucked him through a portal. He’d landed on the rubble remains of the city he had wanted so badly to protect.

It had been so quiet. So damned quiet.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d laid there. Shocked, trembling, and adjusting to having actual thoughts again. Ones that weren’t overshadowed by fear and rage and pain.

Once he’d realized where he was—the smell was the same—he’d picked himself up and contemplated his next move. He was home, but . . . everyone and everything he’d ever cared about, ever knew, was gone. What did he do now?

Scarlett.

Was she still alive? Would she even want to see him if she was? He’d done horrible things. Killed so many. What would she think of him?

Those questions had stalled him. But after a moment he’d shaken his head. He’d face those questions later. When . . . if he found her.

With a grunt, he’d turned and picked a direction to start walking.

His search began.

It had been hard. Without his eyes, he had to rely on his other senses. They’d stepped up, for the most part. His hearing was better. His sense of smell stronger. He could sense objects nearby, and he’d developed a kind of sense for other shard possessed creatures. Could sense the shards themselves, almost hear them. As if they called out to him.

He resisted that call. Now that he was himself again, he was absolutely not going to let the lure of some sliver of chaos emerald take control of him again.

He walked. He searched. He fought other shard possessed kaiju. Days passed. Weeks. Months. He wasn’t sure how many. It was hard to keep track.

And then, he’d smelled it. Smelled her.

They’d grown up together, as close as siblings, so her scent was as familiar as his own. Just a brief whiff of it, caught on the wind. His heart had given a hard thump in his chest, and he’d picked up the pace.

A dead kaiju. Recent, by the smell. And her scent was all over. A sharper edge to it—blood. He leaned down and sniffed the thing’s claws, tasting her scent on his tongue as he did so. It had injured her. Anger flared within him, and he resisted the urge to tear this corpse apart, a delayed retribution for it daring to hurt her.

Instead, he turned to follow the stronger scent of her.

Stronger. It was even stronger here. But, higher? Sounds from above him and he stepped back, waiting to catch more information before making a move. To be sure.

A thud and a pained grunt. A relieved sigh. Her scent reached him, stronger than ever.

It was her.

He let out soft grunt, and sensed her freeze.

Smelled her fear.

He didn’t move, trying to figure out what he should do. Could he speak, would his vocal cords even work? He wasn’t sure.

Before he could try, a screech from above. Another kaiju, a larger one, with two shards.

A fight. They’d moved too quickly for him to get involved, his lack of sight preventing him from knowing how to attack. He didn’t want to hurt Scarlett by accident.

But then she’d been down. Hurt. Helpless. And he’d acted.

That had been two months ago. Since then they’d been inseparable once more. Roaming the land, seeking food and shelter and any sign of anything good left.

They hadn’t found much.

Read it all on ao3

[nanomooselet]

Episode Three: Bright Light, Shine through the Darkness

Okay, let's try this whole meta thing.

Bright Light, Shine through the Darkness was the episode where I realised I was in some deep trouble. I was aware of Trigun, but never really got around to looking into it until this ep was airing, and the two episodes before were, how can I say, everything I'd been lead to expect? Meryl is so angry and kind and Rosa so cool, and of course to look upon Vash is to adore him, precious darling boy. But I was still waiting for the hook, the reason to continue. Episode three, then: the one where the series finally begins. It's done saluting the work of the past and pivots to the story it's here to tell.

And I had no inkling it would be a story of such deliberate, implacable terror. It opens by telling you a storm is coming, but given that in minutes people are dying by land mines and remote drones, you'd think the storm was already here. Blood splashes! Meryl nearly gets her dumb ass flattened! E.G.'s motives aren't the kind receptive to Vash's forgiveness and whoo boy, for a moment you almost believe Vash will withdraw it. But Meryl turns it around (waaah she's so brave, she and Vash and Roberto made such a good team) and it seems the next challenge will be talking the elder Nebraska out of revenge, because anyone will pick up a gun when their loved ones are killed.

Then the piano rings out, right as Nebraska demands to know whose side Vash is on. It's a haunting, wistful tune and the score fell silent for quite a while first, which makes the notes even more out-of-place. The colour has been drained, everything is shrouded with smoke, and the cinematography has shrunk to mid shots and close-ups. Vash stands there in paralysed in fear for over ten seconds. You forget, in what follows, that we were given fair warning.

Nai was present in the opening scene, and Knives stated his intentions clearly enough at the end of the first episode. We saw this fuse being lit and the detonation still comes as a surprise. Not to mention Knives's influence is felt absolutely everywhere once you know to look for it – the bounty and the threats it inevitably attracts, the military police (and boy do I have thoughts on them, but it's only the final episode that'll come back), even the environment, the insects and birds. Tonis's little cage of buddies that Vash promised he would keep safe! Nothing hasn't felt Knives's fingertips - playing, pushing, manipulating.

Vash has to accept at the end of the episode that there was no longer any way he could avoid facing his brother, not if he wanted the people around him to be safe. While I don't think Knives was out to get Vash on this particular trip, I think he's just fine with Vash believing that's why he was there. Let him think it really is his presence, his “bad luck” that led to this destruction.

It's at least consolation to know Gofsef and his father are still alive at the end, though they're not in the best shape. I missed it the first time. But my God, poor Rosa. Poor Tonis. We never get that manga bit where Vash explains that if he took a life, Rem would never forgive him, but we don't really need to after that.

And when it took time out of Vash's self recriminating angst to show us Meryl also feels responsible, I sat up. She'd been so directly driving the plot so far, but I hardly dared hope for more. It was oddly reassuring.

All in all, fantastic episode, and I haven't even talked about the strongest portions. I hope everyone who worked on it is proud of themselves. I couldn't have asked for better. I'll close on what might have been my favourite moment (and by that I mean for me the most emotionally devastating): Vash crying as he flees the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, pulling blood-spattered Rosa after him.

[acutiewithagun]

If you want more prompts here's a headcannon request :3

So like, we all saw the amount of Oozesquitoes that escaped Draxums lab (I'd wager somewhere above 100). I'd also assume he made them much more long living then normal mosquitoes. But throughout the show, we only see a handful of people being mutated, and no news reports what so ever. This leads me to believe that just like normal mosquitoes, Oozesquitoes have some sort of preference to the person they bite, be it blood type or otherwise, so while some people might have 3 of them chasing them down at once, others might not have to worry about being bitten until they are one of the last options. (Sorry for the rambling, I'll get to the main point)

I want your (separate) headcannons for the boys (and April if you want) finding out from the reader that they've unknowingly been getting swarmed by Oozesquitoes as of late.

(As a bonus, here's a pic I made a few months back at 3 am, the background's not mine)

(Very interesting concept, I don't really do head cannons but I'll do short stories for each of them.)

Mosquito or maybe Ozzquito

The weird bugs that appeared years ago had left most people alone, including you. But within the last weeks these insects had been following you around. You decided talking to one of the turtles would probably help your situation... right?

Raph

You ran into the training room, completely out of breath. You glopped onto a mat as he looked at you with an odd expression. "Hey, are ya ok?" You shake your head as you pant for breath. "Chased... by... ozzquitos..." His eyes widen and he stops his training, opting to run to your side. He quickly hoisted you up and frantically examined you for bites.

"I managed to out run them, but they've been swarming me for weeks. Any advice?" Raph looked into your eyes with a big toothy grin. "Yeah, Donnie made some kinda repellent when we first had to fight off the ozzquitos. Raph can ask him for some." You give him a smile in return and hug him. "Thanks a ton."

He gave you a hug back with a chuckle. "Anything for my buddy."

Mikey

You spotted an oozquito and groaned. You immediately started running and bumped into Mikey. "Woah, slow down, whatcha running from?" He looked behind you and spotted the incoming swarm of the mutating insects. His eyes widened and he quickly picked you up and started running.

After ducking into a building Mikey finally put you down. "Why were there so many oozquitos!?" You rubbed the back of your neck and sigh. "I have no clue, they've been swarming me for weeks." With those words Mikey handed you lighter. Your eyes widened.

"Just burn them with fire if they bother you too much." He gave you a bright smile as he held out the destructive item.

Leo

You were sneaking around the sidewalk when you suddenly fell. Once you landed you saw Leo smiling at you as he held you. "Hi, you seem tense, and is that a frown I see?" You push on his face with your hand as you scowl. "I've been being swarmed by those darn oozquitos." He hummed and smirked. "Well that sounds like you just gotta stay inside until they leave you alone. You can stay here, I'll be that gracious."

The urge to hit him was strong with this one, but you bit it off. "Doesn't solve my problem, just prolongs it." He rolled his eyes and dropped you with a grin. "Suit yourself." Your desperation made you get up. "Hold on, I'll take you up on your offer."

He smirked at you and winked. "I knew you would, no one can resist my charms."

Donnie

You were swiveling on a chair as Donnie worked on whatever his next invention was. You accidentally let out a groan of dissatisfaction, which earned a pause from the soft shell turtle. "Mind telling me what troubles you so?" You smile as he continues working. "Just the stupid oozquitos have been swarming me recently. I can't go anywhere anymore."

This earned a hum from Donnie as he slid his chair to a shelf. He took a can of the shelf and examined it before throwing it behind him. You caught it and looked at him questionably. "What's this for?" He went back to his task and waved a hand.

"Oozquito repellent, this wonderful genius made it a few years ago. It should work to help your issues."

[callahanisms]

Your posts are the greatest thing ever I was wondering if you could alicent and rhaenyra reacting to reader killing one of their children in combat during the dance thanks. 🥰

my god anon. that is PURE ANGST! you are despicable for giving me this suggestion /pos

anyways thank you so much for the compliment! it means a lot and i'm so happy you enjoy the content i create. there's not much that can be asked from as a creative. i love it when you guys enjoy the stuff i put out.

i do love writing angst. so umm...welp. i'll just leave this post here for you guys. i hope your heart hurt as much as mine did while writing this.

rhaenyra targaryen

it was just whispers, rumors. but the reality of war was that there would be loss. she just didn’t expect for her to have to grieve more than she already has.

daemon had a solemn look on his face when he approached her that evening. and he told her the news.

he never saw her react so quickly and violently.

the black queen threw her cups of wine into the fire with unrestrained force. her breathing was rapid and she stood from her seat, walking out.

“rhaenyra. rhaenyra!” daemon exclaimed.

you had killed her oldest, jacaerys. stabbed through the heart and then having taken an eye out. for aemond. is what you apparently had said, according to the soldiers that fled.

rhaenyra saw white. pure white.

it wasn’t just intense sorrow, a sorrow that tore through her body like she was being burned from the inside out. it was anger. anger at you. anger at the world. anger at alicent and aegon.

she had gone to the training yard and picked up a sword and began hacking away at the practice dummies. she just kept going, screaming while hot tears ran down her cheeks.

she didn’t even realize that daemon had come to check up on her and he only watched as she tore apart the dummies and anything that could have been broken by a sword.

when her anger finally faded away and she could see the destruction she caused, she tossed the sword on the ground, panting.

she looks at daemon who communicates with her how he feels through the look in his eyes.

“i’m going to kill them! i’m going to kill alicent! i’m going to kill aegon! i’m going to kill that stupid boy aemond!” she exclaims.

“we will kill them all. and we will put their heads on the traitor’s walk when we retake the iron throne.”

“i will kill (y/n). i will kill them personally.”

“is that what you really want, rhaenyra?”

“i will kill (y/n) if it is the last thing i do. i will avenge my children!”

alicent hightower

when aemond attempted to take back harrenhaal, you were there. and you led the counterattack. adrenaline had run through your veins and with unrecognizable strength, you sunk your blade through his eye socket.

part of it was your rage. you cared for lucerys like he was your own. he reminded you of your younger brother, who had died from dornish raiders. and when the news reached you that luke had been killed by aemond’s hands, you swore vengeance.

finally, luke could be at peace.

alicent was horrified when she opened the box. rumors have it that she screamed, collapsed, and tore at her dress from the sorrow that ran through her veins.

with aemond dead and green morale low, the blacks took back king’s landing.

she was forced into the great hall for sentencing. but when she saw you, she saw red.

“you!”

“me.” you say.

“you killed aemond. how could you have killed him!” alicent exclaims. she could not even look at rhaenyra. her sole attention was on you. “you killed my son!”

“your son killed prince lucerys without consequence. is that a fair trade for your son’s eye? you probably thought so. a life for an eye.” you shrug, unbothered.

alicent didn’t even know she had such strength within her. but she tore herself from the arms of the soldiers holding her up and pulled one of their swords from its sheath.

you send them a look, deciding to let the grieving woman charge towards you with a blade. she was intent on cutting your head off.

her swings were sloppy. to be expected from a woman who had others do the dirty work for her. you deflect them easily and dodge.

eventually, you knock the sword out of her hands and drop your blade. she attempts to hit you, but you stop her hand, gripping onto it.

“i trusted you! i trusted you (y/n)!” she exclaims. “you killed aemond. my aemond!” her voice became incomprehensible as she sobbed. her cries were painful and they rang throughout the great hall.

you could only hold her there and tell her one thing.

“a son for a son.”

[lineycantdance]

AwaE's "Tale of the Magical Island" play

In the the sixth episode of Season 2 of Anne with an E entitled "I Protest Against Any Absolute Conclusion," the community of Avonlea comes together to put on the annual Christmas Pantomime. In this meta, I offer my analysis of this story within a story.

Not only does the plot of the panto draw heavily upon the story of Adam and Eve, but in my interpretation, it also allegorically serves as a way for Avonlea to use the medium of the theatre to process and come to grips with the threat that the grifters posed to their "magical island" community.

First, a brief synopsis of the play:

The opening number introduces the audience to an agrarian community residing on a "Magic Fantastical Island." Our hero, a farm boy, encounters a Fairy Princess who, seeing The Boy's hard work and goodness, bestows upon him a Golden Apple Tree which he vows to faithfully protect. A Dame happens upon the Golden Apple Tree and asks The Boy to hand her one of its fruits, but he refuses. When the Dame steals an apple, the Devil Lobster appears accompanied by a catchy tune. Things seem bleak when the Devil Lobster gets ahold of one of the apples, but a Prince on a noble steed arrives to vanquish the evil foe. However, the Devil Lobster thwarts the Prince by crushing his sword in his claws. As stormy skies swirl overhead, The Boy digs a large Black Hole with his trusty shovel and tricks the Devil Lobster into falling in. The hole swallows up the Devil Lobster, the day is saved, and they all lived happily ever after!

The Panto as Allegory for the Grifter Arc:

Ultimately, this play tells a simple story in which good triumphs over evil with a moral about resisting temptation and the perils of greed.

I would like to call attention to the fact that the apples are painted gold. Like their edenic counterpart, they symbolize sin and temptation, but in the context of this allegory, they also represent the enticing prospect of finding gold in Avonlea.

One of the Prince's lines suggests that if the Devil Lobster got his hands on the golden apples, it would bring spoil and rot upon the town's land ("You think you can turn our land into rot?/ I'm the unconquerable prince, lest you forgot!"). This parallels the threat that the mining operation posed to Avonlea—digging up the earth in the hopes of finding gold would have defiled the land and brought environmental destruction to the small farming town.

The Devil Lobster is defeated by falling into the Black Hole—this bears a striking resemblance to how Mr. Dunlop was ultimately caught by the townsfolk in S2E3 after he fell down the mining shaft at Nate's dig site.

It's significant that The Boy is the one who digs the hole to stop the Devil Lobster. The Boy represents the every child, and more specifically, the youth of Avonlea. While the adults of the town were easily swindled by Nate and Mr. Dunlop's gold scheme, it was children, specifically Anne, Diana, and to some extent Jerry, who were able to see through the grifters' ruse, put all the pieces together, and try to stop them from getting away with their scheme.

The version of events rendered in the play puts a more heroic spin on the role The Boy plays in thwarting the evildoer. He actively sets a trap for the Devil Lobster using the pivotal prop—a shovel—to do so. Since a shovel is a tool of excavation, this reflects how the excavation site Nate initially used to stage his con became a trap and holding place for Dunlop when their ruse came crashing down.

In reality, our child heroes were not so active nor successful in thwarting Nate and Dunlop. Only Dunlop was captured whereas Nate got away with the money. After their sleuthing in Charlottetown, Anne and Diana tried to warn the Barrys about what they'd discovered, but Diana's mother wouldn't hear any of it. Anne told Marilla who thankfully believed her, but by then it was too late, and the two literally got tied up. Meanwhile, Jerry had his own moment of realization, finally recognizing the boarders as the thieves who mugged him and stole his money in the finale of season 1. He tried to throw a punch at Nate, but got beat up again and fell unconscious. Mr. Dunlop only fell into the hole, not by any of the children's doing, but because he and Nate turned against each other.

The play credits the children as the real heroes in the story and offers a happier ending than the real version of events in which the community is still reeling from the financial blow of the con, lingering distrust—especially of outsiders—and feelings of regret and shame. In particular, we see how Marilla blames herself for inviting the boarders into their community and how the fallout of the the con hits the Barrys especially hard, manifesting as marital conflict between Diana's parents. The play's happier version of events helps the town process the ordeal they've gone through and imparts a moral they learned from the experience.

Each Character's Role in the Panto:

Anne as The Boy: Like the show itself, Anne is the protagonist of the play, our plucky hero. Her stepping into the role of The Boy was foreshadowed with her trip to Carmody earlier in the episode during which she dressed up like a boy. It's also fitting that Anne plays this part since she was the one who put all the clues together about the boarders' true intentions. The fact that Anne replaces Josie in the lead role of the play, as well as Matthew's last-minute substitution for Billy as the Owl, signifies that Anne and the Cuthberts are forces of progressive change in Avonlea.

Diana as the Fairy Princess: Most characters, including Anne, see Diana as the angelic image of a proper lady. She's generous, sweet, beautiful, and comes from a wealthy family. Like her Fairy Princess counterpart who awards The Boy for his hard work, Diana sees Anne's virtues even when others don't, and overall is a supportive and generous friend.

Matthew as the Owl: Matthew stepping into this role is foreshadowed in his flashback with his brother Michael in which a young Matthew can be seen whittling an owl figurine. Owls are associated with wisdom and true sight. This is a fitting choice for a narrator character in a play and also suits Matthew who demonstrates real wisdom.

Mr. Lynde as the Devil Lobster: In S2E2, a townsperson remarks that Mr. Lynde shows no moderation whatsoever as he piles his plate full of sweets. The Devil Lobster is the embodiment of greed and avarice and proclaims that he is "simply shimmering with sin." Tamatoa who? I only know the Devil Lobster! Also, it's clear that Rachel is super into seeing her husband acting a bit naughty and decided to have some fun with this casting choice.

The minister as the Fair Dame: Seeing the minister in drag is played for comedic effect. The Dame plays the part of Eve taking the apple from the Garden of Eden. While the minister was skeptical about the gold testing business, he did not dissuade the town's eagerness for material riches and therefore also shares responsibility for inviting avarice into Avonlea.

Mr. Phillips as the "Unconquerable" Prince: This is also played for laughs as it demonstrates Mr. Phillip's inflated sense of ego. He envisions himself as a gallant hero when in reality, he is anything but. The Prince is ineffectual at fighting off the Devil Lobster and runs away like a coward, much like how the adults and authority figures of Avonlea were completely bamboozled by the grifters.

Rachel Lynde as Queen Victoria: Perhaps a narcissistic casting choice on the part of Rachel, but let's be real, she was the artistic director behind this whole production and knocked it out of the park. Pop off, queen!

I hope you enjoyed this discussion of the "play within a play" in S2E6 of Anne with and E. This is probably my favorite episode in the whole series due to its many wholesome moments, especially Jerry giving Anne his Christmas card, Gilbert and Bash coming over to the Cuthbert's for Christmas dinner, and Matthew overcoming his stage fright. 10/10 would recommend. Of course the Christmas episode absolutely slaps!

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Epilogue)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery, mentions of murder

Word Count: 787

Imagine Series

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV - 20 years later

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it! The new Duke and Duchess of Baldur’s Gate are crowned today at noon!” A newspaper boy shouted as he held up a copy of Baldur’s Mouth in the air. Astarion and I walked hand-in-hand past the newspaper boy, in disguise as a human couple. “Read more about the former Duke’s charges and scandals on page two!” We continued our leisure stroll towards Wyrm’s Crossing, where our crowning would take place in an hour. 

It had been two decades since Ahriman and Hiedra had been dealt with, and Astarion and I were flourishing. About two years ago, after Astarion landed a position on the former Duke’s council, he had implemented and begun a societal change to how the city of Baldur’s Gate operated. Under his advice, the economy and people of Baldur’s Gate began to thrive; however, before the former Duke could claim victory with Astarion’s policies, someone had revealed to a source at Baldur’s Mouth of some…misdeeds the Duke had done over his decade-long rule. (I would say thanks to whomever did such a task, but let’s just say that disguise self is quite the useful spell.) Ultimately, this information caused the citizens of Baldur’s Gate to revolt, and they elected Astarion as their new ruler.

Of course, we had done more than just improve the economy of Baldur’s Gate. I was a prominent figure in the community for funding free public education that was actually teaching the children to thrive in the world. Tutors were provided to help those who struggled, and higher education was provided with no cost to those who sought it. Vocational training for those who wanted to work in construction and other careers was also free to those interested.

Another project of mine in the city was the construction of a community based shelter, where you were provided with the necessary tools to help those in need get on their own. The shelter provided housing and food until you found a stable job and could afford a house. Part of this project entailed building affordable homes that anyone could easily buy. 

These programs, and many others Astarion and I implemented together, enabled the city to expand and thrive. Hence when the former Duke got caught using the city’s taxes to fund his own interests, the citizens decided that the couple who cared about the city deserved to rule it.

An hour later I stood proudly next to Astarion with a crown on my head as he kneeled before the former Duke’s general placed a sword on both of his shoulders.

“By the power invested in me, I name you Duke of Baldur’s Gate.” A roar erupted from the crowd as a crown was placed upon the curly white hair of my beloved vampire. He stood up tall and looked at the crowd who had gathered to see him before he looked at me. He reached a hand out to me, which I happily took and smiled back at him.

“Citizens of Baldur’s Gate,” Astarion’s voice echoed in the hall with authority, and the room fell silent. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at me, and I knew he was enjoying every minute of this moment. “I am beyond proud to be the one you have all voted to be your Duke. But, I would not be where I am today without the help of my gorgeous wife, (TAV’s name), who is now your Duchess.” The crowd erupted into cheers, which were silenced when Astarion raised a hand. “Shall we hear a speech from our Duchess?” He raised an eyebrow at me as the crowd began to chant.

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” I raised a hand and rolled my eyes at Astarion.

“Citizens of Baldur’s Gate, I am deeply honored to bear such a title as Duchess. I vow to each and every one of you that my work here in the city will continue as before: I will continue to improve the education system, provide housing and job opportunities to all, and—most importantly—I will continue to be a humble and gracious leader to you all. Thank you for placing your faith in us.” Astarion and I bowed to the crowd, who erupted in celebration. 

“Now, who is ready to celebrate?” Astarion and I asked as we straightened up. Sharing a knowing smile between us, Astarion led me by the arm into the crowd as we took our first steps as Duke and Duchess of Baldur’s Gate.

There is nothing in this world that we can’t do and no one who can stop us. Astarion’s words echoed in my head as we mingled with the crowd. We are truly the most powerful people in the world.

[lackablazeical]

Addams! AU snippet 7: 'Lair Games 1- Minefield Long Jump'

FULL CREDIT TO WRITER NewFallenLeaves ON A03! THE CREATIVITY? UNMATCHED. SKILL? UNMATCHED? GOOD VIBES? UN-FUCKING-MATCHED! EVERYONE GO SUPPORT HER! SHES LEGIT LIKE ON THE LIST OF TOP 10 BEST PPL EVER!

This snippet has Donnie so! Have some Donnie <3 my voidpunk king

Full snippet below the cut! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

-----

“And your choice for the first event,” April said slowly, “Is the ‘minefield long jump’?”

Raph gave a slow grin. “Start with a bang.”

Leo giggled, but April remained unimpressed as always. The fact that she had found all of them and failed to run away screaming at first contact was testament enough to her fortitude. She seemed just as unphased by the idea of death-defying, twisted olympics as anything else they had introduced her to.

Which was what had made them all so giddy when she agreed to video record their lair games excursion.

She flicked a braid behind her shoulder and turned the angle of the camera to point downwards, zooming on the layer of dirt that had been raked and smoothed across the dried-out sewer channel. “Where does one even find military-grade mines?”

“Salvage, of course,” said Mikey. He stretched, twisting one foot up behind his back and over his head at an impossible-looking angle, like a contortionist. “And Donnie makes replicas and fills them with shrapnel.”

Donnie tightened a bolt on the back of his knee. “Even more damaging than any from the world war eras. I add a volatile fuel composite to the firing pistons.”

“And who is the reigning champion of these…modified…olympics?” April swiveled the lens between the four boys.

Leo puffed up, about to answer–

“Raph goes first!” Raph barrelled forward, Mrs. Cuddles across his shoulders like a toddler clinging piggyback. He leaped, arcing over the long stretch of dirt. For someone so large, he went a surprising distance before both his feet slammed into the ground, sending up a spray of dirt and gravel.

In the silence afterward, Raph wiggled his toes. “Huh. No mine.”

“Good job, buddy!” said Leo.

Raph smiled, pleased, and gave a thumbs-up. Mrs. Cuddles slipped from his shoulders and landed in the dirt just behind him.

Click.

POW

A flurry of stuffing exploded around Raph like a snowstorm. He gasped, snatching at the puffs of cotton.

“Oh,” said April, sadly. “He lost his stuffie.”

“Not to worry, we have many Mrs. Cuddles replicas as back up,” said Donnie. “Raphael! Clear the field, the rest of us have turns to take!”

Raph ignored him and continued to painstakingly gather each piece of fluff from the little circle of destruction. Which turned out fine, because both Mikey and Leo were able to take their turns and jump well past his mark, anyway. They used poles to vault over him as he crouched in the pile of stuffing and tried to form it back into the vague shape of Mrs. Cuddles.

“If equipment is permitted, why didn’t Raphael use a pole for his vault?” asked April.

“He snaps them too easy,” said Leo, sauntering back from his jump. His blue flag marked the furthest distance so far, just past Mikey’s orange. He held out a new pole to Donnie, his head torqued sideways. “Here, Donnie. I brought you one from the spare rack. It was on the way back from the winning distance.”

“Too obvious, Nardo,” said Donnie. He waved Leo off and unclipped his tech bo from one of the compartments on his shell. “I will use my reliable equipment, as always.” He set his grip, got a running start, planted the bo, and leaped.

Leo clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle a snicker – a split second before it happened.

The bo crackled at one of its joints, snapped, and Donnie dropped.

Click.

POW

This time instead of a flurry of stuffing, there was a geyser of blood and oil.

“Leeeeoooooo,” said Mikey, “Did you sabotage Donnie’s tech again?”

“Who, me? I would never.”

As the spatter of fluids settled, Donnie sat up. April hurried over to assist him.

“No, no,” he said. “I’m quite capable of getting up on my own. House rules apply, after all. Survival means I get a second run.”

“Donatello,” said April. “You have no leg to stand on.”

He glanced down. Sure enough, his left leg had blown apart at the knee, leaving the dirt dark and clotted as it soaked up leaking fluids.

He sighed. “Of course. I’ve already lost sight in one eye and most of my hearing, why not add to the collection.”

Leo smirked as he skipped past Donnie towards the medal podium. “Better luck next year, brother!”

From across the canal, Splinter’s voice echoed: “Purple wins.”

Leo slowed, his smile dropping ever-so-slightly. In tandem, they all turned their gazes to the far end of the sewer pipe. The flag marker for the record jump - still blue – fluttered as a drainage pipe above it spat a slurry of sludge.

But well beyond that, jutting up from the muck where it had landed, was Donnie’s severed leg. Its toes twitched.

Leo’s smile completely disappeared.

Heaving himself up from the dirt, Donnie balanced on his remaining foot as his missing knee continued to spurt. He smirked at Leo as he hopped to go retrieve his limb. “Better luck next year, brother.”

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.28)

Chapter 28 As I stepped back through the hotel lobby doors, I was met with a familiar pair of eyes exiting the elevator doors ahead of me. They smiled right at me, and I walked over to greet them with a hug.

George pulled me in and we hugged for several minutes.

"Thank you again so much, George," I said sincerely, looking up at him as we parted. "For calling me, for booking the flight and getting me here and for everything. I really can't thank you enough, George. I'm so grateful Matty has you," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm grateful Matty has you. I'm grateful that I have you," George said, shaking his head incredulously. "I can't thank you enough, Anna. You flew across the world at a moment's notice for our boy. Thank you doesn't begin to cover it," he confided. We smiled at each other gratefully, feeling so lucky to have each other as we walked side by side to the dining room where continental breakfast was being served.

"How was the rest of last night?" George asked as we waved at Polly and Jamie, fellow touring members of the band, who spotted us from their table near a window that looked out onto a beautiful view of the Southern Atlantic Ocean.

I picked up a plate for each of us, handing one to George who thanked me as we joined the queue for the buffet.

"It was... okay..." I said, thinking back to last night and the messiness of it all as we poured ourselves coffee, sipping on it while we waited to reach the food. "He was so drunk... I've never seen him like that before. It was... Well, I won't lie, it was scary," I answered honestly. George nodded his head in understanding. I felt much more at peace with it all after my walk, having had some time to process the highs and lows of it all, but the remnants of the evening still stuck with me. I'm not sure they'd ever leave me, really. Watching someone you love self-destruct like that wasn't easy to forget.

"I know," George said with understanding, as he scooped a large ladleful of eggs onto both of our plates while I grabbed us each some toast. "It's been scary for a while now..." George said ominously. I couldn't help but worry about what he meant by a while- like if this was a bigger problem than just us being apart, but George interrupted my train of thought. "But I'm glad you're here, Anna. I'm really glad. I've never seen him happier or healthier or more himself than when he's with you, so I know this will be good for him. How was he this morning? Has he woken up yet? Have you spoken?"

"Yes, we talked this morning. It was really good. It was hard, but we talked it all out and I think we both feel a lot better now," I said, exhaling a big breath of relief. It felt good to finally be able to say that- to say things were better. George looked relieved too. "I think he's a bit hungover, but he's gonna come down and join us any minute now," I said as we took our seats next to Polly and Jamie, exchanging good mornings with them as I changed the subject, gushing about how incredibly they performed last night.

We all chatted casually as we ate our breakfast when I heard George say loudly, "Oh look who's decided to get up on time for once." I turned to see Matty standing in the doorway scanning the room, his eyes finally landing on me. He paused hesitantly, then looked at me with timid eyes, unsure of if I still wanted space. He looked so ashamed, it broke my heart. I got up immediately, walked over to him and hugged him- hard. I looked up to meet his guilt-ridden eyes with a small smile, then lowered my eyes to his lips, leaning in slightly. When he didn't move, I looked back up at him- the permission he was waiting for. He kissed me fully, his lips gentle on mine. I pulled myself closer into him and he kissed me a little harder in response. I felt my stomach flutter.

"Thank you for giving me a minute. I appreciate it so much," I whispered to him earnestly.

"Of course," he mumbled, shame tinging his voice. He still felt terrible about everything. My heart couldn't handle seeing him like this.

I took his face in my hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "I love you more than you know," I said firmly with sincerity. "Did you know that?" I asked, playfully cocking my head to the side with a half smile.

The corner of Matty's mouth turned up a little. "No," he said innocently, his voice quiet.

"Oh, I'd be happy to inform you over breakfast, if you'd like," I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck as his smile reached his eyes. "You actually arrived just in time, I was just about to start a lecture," I gestured over my shoulder to the band.

He chuckled lightly. "I'd love to join class, Miss Cole," he said as he grinned down at me, wrapping his arms around my waist, our faces hovering close to each other.

"That's Mrs. Healy to you," I said sternly. He broke into a giant smile as he beamed back at me, then picked me up and spun me around, placing me back down before kissing me deeply this time, his self-restraint gone. He kissed me with such love and intention, I felt like I was floating. I couldn't tell if I was dizzy from the spin or the passion from his kiss, but I was woozy- completely drunk on his love. I didn't even hear George and Polly whooping and catcalling us from the table. My heart was soaring, alongside Matty's.

He looked down at me breathlessly. "I could kiss you forever," he said sweetly, making me swoon. I took his hand, leading him back over to our table. "You're a great teacher," he whispered quietly in my ear as we approached the table. I smiled up at him, happy to once again be back to normal.

Matty pulled up an extra seat to the table, pulling it out for me as he said his hello's. I declined, then pulled his chair out for him, looking at it pointedly. He raised his eyebrow questioningly as he sat down, and I smiled, promptly sitting down in his lap. His grin spread across his face as he smiled up at me warmly, pulling me in close against him. "In fact, I think I'd like to sign up for tutoring if you'll have me," he whispered in my ear.

"I have plenty of extra credit assignments," I said back to him quietly, my heart tumbling as I looked into his eyes which danced with light. "Enough to last a lifetime, actually. If you're interested." We kissed again, our hands wrapped around each other, oblivious to the world around us.

A retching noise startled us apart. "As happy as I am to see you two back in each other's arms again, I'd like to keep my breakfast down if you wouldn't mind," George said with a cheeky smile.

"Oh, you're just jealous of Anna," Matty said pompously. "I told you already- I won't kiss you, George. No matter how hard you beg me," Matty said with fake seriousness. We all laughed as George wiggled his eyebrows at Matty suggestively, puckering his lips at him as I passed Matty one of the two coffees I'd poured for us.

"They didn't have any iced coffee, so I had to pour you a hot one, I hope that's okay," I said to Matty who thanked me sweetly as the whole table gave him a questioning look, a weird silence falling upon us. I looked around at them, confused. "What? Did I say something weird?" I said to them.

Matty shook his head, "No, this is perfect, thank you so much, darling." He kissed me on the cheek, squeezing my thigh in thanks.

I looked at George who still stared at Matty. "What?" I asked him. "What am I missing here?" I asked, turning back to Matty who suddenly turned red, looking away bashfully.

"He hates iced coffee. He actually refuses to drink anything but scalding hot coffee- for as long as I've known him," George said to me with an eyebrow raised at Matty. "He even yelled at an intern for accidentally getting him an iced coffee once," he said with a devilish smile.

"Now that's not true, I didn't yell," Matty said sternly, pointing a finger at George as Polly and Jamie snickered. "I groaned out loud by accident, and I'd had a very long day. I apologized to the boy after, it was fine."

I was so confused. "Matty," I said to him as he looked at me weakly, "I don't understand. Why have you been getting iced coffee every day with me for the past 2 weeks?" I ignored George whose jaw dropped at this new information.

Finally Matty looked up at the table. "I'm going to kill all of you," he said politely, a smile gracing his blushing cheeks.

Then it hit me. "Is this... Is this because of how we met?" I asked incredulously. Polly and Jamie squinted their eyes in confusion as George made a quiet sound of understanding. Matty nodded his head, his eyes looking up at me innocently. I was so touched. My shoulders dropped as my chest caved from the overload of emotion. He was so sweet, I couldn't believe it.

"Can someone fill me in here?" Polly asked, puzzled.

"Matty nearly killed Anna when they first met," George said with a smile, to which I shot a look of warning. He zipped his mouth shut, offering me the floor.

I turned to Polly to explain. "Matty ran into me outside of his flat- like, literally ran into me. He was holding a hot coffee and it spilled all over me when we collided. He took me upstairs to tend to my burn and that's when we started talking. I stayed for hours- we couldn't stop talking once we started," I said as I looked back at Matty lovingly, giddy at the memory of our first meeting.

"I spent the entire night after she left kicking myself for not getting her number," he said, smiling back at me as he replayed the memory in his mind.

"I thought he wasn't interested. Actually, I thought he was dating you," I said, pointing at George.

"ME? " George asked in disbelief.

I nodded my head. "There's a very charming, yet misleading photo strip of the two of you kissing in Matty's hallway," I explained as everyone began to laugh. 

"Oh please, Matty. Once more- for old time's sake," George said as he puckered his lips at Matty again. Matty shook his head, planting his lips on my cheek without breaking eye contact with George, who sighed. "One day, I'll feel those luscious lips on mine again..." I couldn't help but giggle. I turned back towards Matty, still blown away by this new information. 

"I can't believe you..." I said looking at him in disbelief. "I haven't seen him with a hot coffee since that day. Until today," I said to the group. "Why didn't you tell me you hated iced coffee?"

Jamie interrupted us, "I'm sorry, this is insane," he said, shaking his head. "So you mean to tell me that you burned a girl and she still fell in love with you?" Jamie said incredulously. "The 1975 fans are wild."

"She actually isn't a fan," Matty started, then smiled as I cleared my throat intentionally, "Sorry- wasn't a fan. She didn't know who I was when we met. I was just some clumsy bloke with no awareness of my surroundings. And somehow, she still liked me," he finished with a proud smile.

"So wait, I want to hear more, how did you guys get in contact if you didn't exchange numbers?" Polly asked.

Matty launched into telling our love story, reminiscing over his desperation to see me again, detailing the sleuthing he did to find my address as well as the letter he wrote to me asking me out. I watched his face lovingly as he explained our instant connection and chemistry, giddily recalling our first date, and excitedly sharing his favourite memories. It felt so nice to hear his version of the story, and how similar it was to mine. It felt good to know that I wasn't the only one who knew we really were made for each other.

[corellianhounds]

Soldier, Princess, Farm Boy, Spy

Chapter 1/2 — Disparity

Media: Rogue One / the original Star Wars trilogy

Rating: Gen.

Word Count: 1,945

Warnings: None

Art Credit: The Rogue One comic book adaptation, illustrated by Emilio Laiso. Divider by @/saradika-graphics.

Summary: Two girls— unknowing of the way their fates will cross as adults— meet each other as children, the stark difference in their upbringings seen in the fleeting childhood moments you befriend a stranger by virtue of circumstance and never meet again.

11 BBY. Jyn is ten and has been raised by Saw Gerrera for two years. Leia is eight.

Jyn sees a small figure in white sitting politely next to Senator Organa across the table.

They were gathered in a debate chamber in the capital city of Karom to discuss the Empire’s encroachment on the largest continental territory on the equator. There was already active Imperial movement to expand their mining facilities on Morak further and further into the jungle, displacing the tribes and disrupting the local settlements as they segmented off chunks of land and built borders between the facilities. The unrefined rhydonium the Imperials excavated was volatile and explosive and had already caused massive civilian casualties due to improper handling and transportation, and little had been done by the Empire to remediate the losses.

Saw was prepared to stage an upheaval of the largest operation and was there to argue for more support from the Alliance council, but the senators from neighboring planets had either not given a satisfactory solution or had flat out refused to support Saw, saying accountability had to be taken through “the proper channels” to prevent further incidents. Saw insisted the Empire be more permanently dissuaded from settling on the planet.

Jyn knew all of this. They had been living south among the natives for upwards of four months and had seen the destruction for themselves. Saw had briefed her on their objective of the meeting, adding though that he didn’t anticipate reaching a common ground. Jyn had been passing the time watching all of the people in the room, their expressions and body language telling more than their words ever did. More often than she really cared for she would find adults watching her back, and she would stare them down until they uncomfortably shifted their focus away.

The other girl across from her had braids situated like a crown on top of her head, neat and tidy. Jyn scowled, and had she been closer she would have had to ignore the urge to reach out and yank her hair. She knew it wasn’t kind, but she couldn’t help but feel like everyone in the room was comparing the two of them the way they were comparing Saw and the senator from Alderaan. As if the plain way Jyn and Saw spoke and dressed provided justification for how many council members continued to derogate their stance.

Jyn didn’t think the arguments should have taken this long anyway. Didn’t the men both want the same thing? Why did they have to debate the means they achieved it with?

The princess sat primly beside her father, out of place and unnecessary, in Jyn’s opinion. For as little time as she and Saw spent in cities, she’d seen the kinds of posters and holovids that promoted politicians by showing how affable and “community oriented” they must be because they were portrayed next to children. Bringing his daughter with him was either a ploy to seem more sympathetic, or to keep people from verbally attacking him while she was there. Jyn was there because Saw trusted her to observe and gather information as he made his appeals.

She’s just a girl like me, Jyn thought sullenly, looking back at her counterpart. She only looks nice because she has servants to make her look that way.

Jyn paused at that thought. She looked at the princess again, analyzing.

Bored eyes. Neutral frown. She looked as though she were listening to a school lecture or protocol droid. Jyn tipped her head to get a better look: the other girl looked like she’d tucked her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting. Her feet kicked idly, but silently.

Maybe that is the case, Jyn thought. Servants made her look nice and braided her hair because her father made her come with him, same as Saw had with her.

The thought soured what malicious glee she’d felt at her earlier vindictive impulse.

What had the senator called it? Partisan infighting?

—

There was a short interim as the leaders dispersed before they were to regroup. Saw was irritable as he grumbled to her in the stairwell, talking out his frustrations and organizing his thoughts. Jyn had heard enough of it on their journey into the city but knew better than to complain. “Repetition is the chief of all learning,” he would say.

Jyn could see past him to the duracrete skybridge just outside. Treetops from the landscaped walkway below edged out over the top of the railing in brilliant shades of red, yellow, purple , and orange, the bark white with dark, swirled knots that reminded her of eyes. The wind rustled the leaves and scattered the dead ones, sending them off in the breeze, and the sun shone brighter through the branches.

Jyn waited until Saw reached a stopping point before asking if she could go outside. Saw looked suspiciously through the window behind him. Jyn didn’t think there was anything he didn’t regard with suspicion.

“I need to speak with one of the senators anyway,” he said finally, tapping his cane against the floor as he reached his deliberation. “You may stay on the terrace, provided you are back inside for the next session.”

“Yes sir,” Jyn promised, and she left.

—

Jyn sat on her knees, pressed against the upper duracrete ledge, knocking the backs of her boots together as she watched the tops of the trees sway. It wasn’t long before she was approached by the girl with the neat braids pinned to the back of her head.

“Hi.”

“… Hi.”

“I’m Leia, of Alderaan.” The girl held out her hand.

Jyn stared at the proffered handshake next to her. “I know.”

“Your name is Jyn?”

“Yeah.”

The princess hesitated, her hand dropping. “Would you like some company?”

Jyn frowned, seeing the senator with the dark goatee back over the bridge next to the building with the other adults. “If you’re doing it because your father told you to come talk to me, no.”

“I’m bored anyway.” The princess, with some effort, hopped up onto the ledge next to Jyn. Jyn continued to fiddle with the cords on her jacket, tying knots and undoing them. Square knot. Half hitch. Clove hitch. Felucian twist. The girl next to her was quiet, at least for a little while. Before long, though, her own restless feet began to kick as she looked around.

“Would you like to play?”

Jyn scowled at the childish question. “No, I don’t want to play.”

Leia frowned. “I’m trying to be polite.”

Jyn continued to fiddle with her knot work. “Why?”

“Because Papa told me I had to. I have to be diplomatic towards other people.”

“No you don’t. Not really.”

“I do,” Leia said. “If I want people to listen to me.”

“Well I don’t want to listen to you so stop being polite.”

Leia crossed her arms and sat back with a scowl. Jyn was satisfied the princess had given up trying to maintain an appearance. She didn’t like people who pretended.

Still… If Jyn was honest with herself it wasn’t really the princess’s fault she was in a prickly mood. The girl seemed a few years younger than her, and nothing about her actual expressions or voice indicated that she felt herself more important than Jyn, unlike the adults inside, or some of the cadets in Saw’s band who were clear in their mockery of her. She could tell the difference.

Truth be told, talking to Leia was more interesting than anything else Jyn had done all day.

“Do you always come to these meetings?” Jyn asked, turning around to sit against the wall.

The girl shrugged, the stormy expression dissipating. “Sometimes. Or sometimes I come if I’m already with Papa and there’s no time to send me home or have someone watch me.”

“Watch you?”

Leia tucked one boot up on the ledge, grinding the heel against the stone. “Nannies,” she said derisively. “Nurse droids or governesses. Anyone to keep me from going outside or being by myself or playing with friends.”

“Oh.” Jyn supposed that made sense. It had been so long since Lah’mu that she’d forgotten most children weren’t as independent as she’d been brought up. Even back on her parents’ farm she’d had a relative range of freedom, and she could only imagine the security surrounding politicians and their families now under the Empire’s reign. Leia didn’t look like she could fight off anyone if she was in danger.

“Papa says it’s good for me to learn,” Leia said, almost as an afterthought. She stared sullenly at the ground, absently pulling up the grass between them. “He says I’m supposed to become a senator too when I grow up.”

“You’re a princess,” Jyn reasoned. “Aren’t you supposed to be a leader and make decisions anyway?”

“I guess.” Leia looked up towards the sky in thought, then back to Jyn. “Why didn’t you want to play?” she asked curiously.

“Haven’t done it in a long time,” Jyn shrugged. “I don’t have anybody to play with.”

“What about your father?”

Jyn’s chest burned so quick and hot she felt like she could breathe fire. Any kindness she’d felt before evaporated. She didn’t think the words she spoke next were true, and she felt guilty for wishing they were despite knowing the alternative was worse to admit to a stranger. “My dad’s dead.”

Leia looked confused. “But— He was just in there, talking at the table.”

Her tone threw Jyn off, and it was her turn to look confused. “Saw? Saw’s not my father.”

“He called you “my child.”

Jyn shook her head. Leave it to Saw to confuse the girl with his refusal to call Jyn by her name even when she told him to. Still, Leia was old enough to not be this daft. Jyn didn’t understand. “He just says that. My dad’s dead.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“… Mine’s dead too,” Leia said softly. “My real one.”

“Wait—” Jyn stopped her. “The senator—?”

“He’s not my real dad. He and Momma adopted me.”

Jyn felt… ashamed. Turned out she’d been just as wrong as the princess.

She looked over at the other girl, finally dropping the cords of her jacket and at a loss for what to say.

“… Do you know how to play skipscotch?”

The princess’s somber look turned bright. “No, but you can show me.”

—

Senator Organa came to call Leia in as the council reconvened. Jyn followed after and elbowed through the crowd to the front, taking her place next to Saw as the talks began right where they’d left off. It seemed Saw was no less insistent than when Jyn had last left him, and she listened as he proposed his plan once more with conviction.

At one point Leia tugged on Senator Organa’s sleeve and he picked her up, holding her on one hip. Leia lay her head on his shoulder and started to doze off, and Jyn was hit with a wave of envy, anger, and bitter grief.

She missed her own father. The princess was being a baby. No one was going to hold her if she got tired— Saw was busy, and he wouldn’t have held her even if he’d been able to. He told her to stand up straight and listen because there could be important things to hear. Why did Leia, a princess— someone supposed to be a leader one day— get to be held? Why did she get to sleep?

Jyn’s eyes burned with unshed tears. She refused to let them fall. She stood with her chin level and stared ahead, adamantly refusing to think of the last time Galen held her and hating him for every moment he wasn’t there with her now.

Notes: I had this idea and conversation already drafted even before reading the Rogue One comic books, and seeing this panel in a flashback during Saw and Jyn’s discussion on Jedha cemented the idea for me.