#especially on her part about Ivan

[crustyfloor]

So many people were genuinely surprised Ivan was placed so high on Till's relationship chart, just below Mizi. Till never showed he hated Ivan though, annoyance on occasion? yeah. The way he acts sometimes appears like he merely tolerates Ivan, but they are each other's closest friends. (maybe even best friends if I want to stretch it a bit)

Ivan is confusing and reserved and does things without prior explanation, and it throws Till off and annoys the fuck out of him too because it makes him uncomfortable not understanding why this boy who constantly picks on him and is always sticking to him, and doing weird things, what's his problem? the confusion unnerves him.

Closeness does eventually make the heart grow fond in a relationship, back to the point that they are each other's closest friends, Ivan is always there for him even if just a shoulder to cry on, he doesn't say everything is okay when it's not. But he's there for Till in other meaningful ways, and they care about each other. But even with that fact without Ivan’s intentions made clear to Till there was ultimately a distance between them, and it's a testament to Till's self-deprecation that this was almost intentional on his part for Ivan's own good, but still, it’s endearing to know that despite this Ivan was still regarded quite highly in Till’s head even as a "nuisance"

Also want to mention how much of a poet Till is, "Mizi, you are the most gorgeous, beautiful woman in the universe. When you smiled at me for the first time, I felt like my heart was reborn." what a way with words, he should've been at the club.

But that writing really is beautiful, as he was an isolated and miserable child for his life before meeting Mizi, being in her presence and feeling her positivity was so impactful for him, he felt like a completely different (and happier) person when he was around her, even though he couldn't approach her. It's a sad thing, considering Mizi did want to get closer to him, too, as a friend, but he was held back by his own doubt and deprecation, there had been many opportunities for him to get closer to his friends.

[fan-goddess]

can you hotd characters (mostly alicent and rhaenrya) when the reader almost passes in child birth? thank youuuu :3

A/N: Yep can do! I’ve never given birth, gotten pregnant nor seen anything resembling child birth apart from the Aemma scene in HOTD so I hope I did this justice!? Sorry this has taken so long!

Character Roll Call: Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Aemond and Jacaerys (All romantic love)

Warnings: Child birth, talk of infertility, talk of not able to have children, pregnancy, she/her pronouns used in some places for reader, talk of death during childbirth, talk about smut but no smut, dirty talk, a most likely inaccurate childbirth telling, graphic detailing of blood and gore, this is not proofread! (if I miss any please let me know in a way you’re most comfortable!)

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

It was not the typical marriage you and your husband shared. For whilst you had never had a particular fondness for goose, he understood that and went after his own interest in tasting the variety the world provided him with.

So while he was off exploring, you were in the chambers of the heir of the realm. Showing her your devotion in the most unexpected of ways.

Yet soon, after nearly two years of marriage with no children, people were beginning to become suspicious of your womb. More specifically, your husband’s own family. There was talk of them already arranging a second marriage for him as your womb was supposedly infertile. So after a talk with him, you and your husband for a whole of three months, with the help of Rhaenyra. And just when you thought your efforts were unsuccessful, the maester greeted you with a smile, and told you you were with child.

Your lover took the news surprisingly well, as Rhaenyra spent all hours of the day with you comparing possible names for the baby. Your husband had done his part in this game. Now, you and Nyra could spend your days eating the cake and kissing the days away. Acting oblivious to the hateful world surrounding the two three of you.

“What about Aurion?” Nyra suggests, a lazy smile on her lips as she places a fork with a large chunk of vanilla cake on the end between your lips.

“Hmmmmm” You hum, smiling in thought. “Perhaps let’s not raise more suspicions than we’d like my darling. How about something not so Valyrian?”

She laughs, and yet agrees with you with her smile turning strained and sad. Her hand reaches for your own instinctively and you quickly move to grab it and squeeze it tight. “Alright alright! What about Rhys? Ivan? Those are some more boring names!”

You laugh, and yet make sure to note them down somewhere in your head. You discuss names of girls also, just in case. Yet months later as you sat screaming your heart out on the birthing bed, those names disappeared as pain became all you know.

“You must push my lady! The baby is trapped you must push!” One of the ladies in waiting says as she positions herself by your bottom half.

“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING PUSH!” You scream, sweat dripping down your face as your eyes screw shut. Your voice loud as the pain spreads further through you, till eventually you feel it all over.

Soon, the pain that blooms all over becomes numbing. Especially, when you feel your eyes becoming heavy, eventually shutting so all you see is black and the world becomes silent.

“What is happening?!” Rhaenyra screams, her face becoming pale as memories of her mother come flooding to her head. “What is happening to her?!”

“The lady is haemorrhaging!” One of the maesters yells, a multitude of rags of all sorts in his hands as he attempts to stop the blood from further dripping onto the floor. The babe that had quite literally fallen out of your whilst you had fallen unconscious was quickly taken away by the ladies in waiting to be cleaned and attended to. So now, all focus was on keeping you alive. By order of the future Queen of Westeros.

It feels as thought it had taken hours to stop the bleeding. Yet that meant nothing till Rhaenyra who waited anxiously by your side with your hand in her own. Her fingers poised by your pulse so she can reassure herself that you were truly living beside her and not dead like her mother.

By the time you had finally begun to rouse from your deep slumber, the day had turned to night. And all those in the room were exhausted from the effort it took. The maesters in particular, who knew that if they allowed themselves to slack, the princess would soon be upon them with the fury of the dragons.

“My love….” Rhaenyra whispered, at this point uncaring of the multiple people in that room who’d scuttle themselves to her father and the hand at the slightest chance of a scandal. “Do you hurt?”

“As much as childbirth allows me to be in…” You laugh, yet wincing as soon as your body moves. “I am glad you were here… i fear if you weren’t-“

“Do not speak of such things!” Rhaenyra begs, her hands clutching your own tightly as if she was fearful you would drop dead. “I forbid it!”

“Do you say that as my future queen or as my friend?” You murmur, both knowing the true meaning of the word.

“I say that as both..” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing the top of your head as one of the ladies in waiting comes in holding the bundle containing your baby.

“It’s a daughter, my lady.” She says, walking over and placing her in your arms.

“She’s beautiful…” you can’t help but say, brushing away one of her curls from her eyes. You can feel Rhaenyras eyes on you, and so you take her hand and somehow manage to pull her closer.

“I wish to name her Arya.” You firmly say, locking eyes with your daughter who begins to cry in hunger.

“Beautiful…” Rhaenyra says, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of you beginning to breastfeed your child.

Alicent Hightower:

Even while Alicent was married to the king, yours and hers unique relationship had never once wavered. When Alicent had her children with the king, who did not even enter the room when the time of birth came, it was you who held her hand in place of her mother’s, and murmured soft words of encouragement and affirmation into her ears.

While you had your own, even though your mother was there to be by your side as a place of comfort, it was only Alicent name that sprung from your lips. Begging for her to come closer so you can hold her hand and beg her for mercy and encouragements.

Most recently, your third pregnancy had been said by the maesters to be the most difficult one yet. Pain was all you knew through those last few months. Pain in your legs from when you were forced to walk to the dining hall. Pain in your belly from where not only did the baby insist on kicking but also from the cramps the maesters insisted did not need to be further looked at.

Yet Alicent was always close by ready to lend a helping hand whenever the moment allowed her too. According to her, she still has the old treatment the maesters had prescribed her with just in case she fell pregnant again after Daeron.

“You… my utter darling, are my world!” You moaned, eyes shut closed as Alicent carefully massaged the soothing ointment into the base of your feet. She continues to help whenever she can. The ointments and herbs she providing you with being much better than anything the dreading maesters could’ve ever given you.

Yet like most treatments, the effectiveness wore off. Soon, not even the most obscure of medicines would work on you. Pain was always lingering in every part of your body. Even in places you had no idea were on your body.

“I just want this babe out of me!” You groan one night while Alicent once again attempts to stop your pain using this time a supposed miracle working ointments from Lys. “Nothing is fucking working!”

“Well complaining won’t solve anything!” Alicent attempts to jest, though quickly haults any other further attempt after a harsh glare worthy enough to rival the Strangers is sent hastily her way. “Perhaps it is the gods way of telling you how strong you are for having this child? A way to tell you how powerful your son will no doubt be in the future?”

“I would not care if I was to birth a dragon for gods sakes I only with for it to come out of me so I can no longer feel so fucking horrible!” You groan, “I have already told my lord husband that this shall be my last time on that fucking bed! If he even brings his cock within inches of me it’s being torn off his body and fed to your children’s dragons my love!”

“Oh hush now!” Alicent scows, a rare bout of anger coming about her. “The gods have their meanings and their ways! Though I for once shall agree with you. You will be having three beautiful children my love, and that is all you need. Perhaps you could give birth to a daughter and we can betroth her to Aemond?”

“Perhaps…”

By the time the ninth moon has passed, it is quick to say that you were very much serious about this being your last child.

“GET THE FUCKING CHILD OUT OF ME!” You scream, the maesters wincing at the volume rivalling that of a child being born. Something your own child it seems is refusing to let happen. “RIP IT OUT IF MUST BUT IF I DIE I SHALL HAUNT THIS KEEP FOREVER MORE!”

“There shall be no talk of dying on this bed from you!” Alicent yells, her grip on your hands almost as tight as your hand on hers.

The maesters voices cutting through though as they announce how they can see the babes head. Meaning to much your relief the pain will hopefully be soon over and you can hold the thing that’s been hurting you for nearly nine moons in your arms to give it a stern talking off.

You make sure to push hard when the maesters tell you too, even pushing when they don’t so you could hopefully get the babe out quicker. But even when you feel the babe quite literally fall out of you and hear its cries, the maesters make their own cries far more audible.

“Alicent what is happening?!” You ask, feeling what feels like warm liquid gushing from your lower half. Only she does not respond. Only turning paler than the sheets that with horror, you realise are turning a deep red from blood. Your blood.

And It only turns worse when you realise just how faint you feel. A once iron grip you had on Alicents hand turning weak and feeble as your eyes slowly begin shutting.

It’s all a blur when you feel your body waking. Yet still your eyes have not grown enough strength to open, so it’s with great horror you realise you are still conscious but are practically unable to move. You are alive but it is as if your body is dead.

You can hear Alicent beg for your sake. And you realise with your heart beating frantically in your chest that you can also hear her hushing a baby you had not realised was crying this whole time. Your baby.

“Your mother is sleeping now…” You can hear her say, tears building in your eyes when you hear how damaged her voice sounds. “She is strong, your mother. She will wake and see what a beautiful baby boy she has waiting for her… it won’t be long now. I promise.”

You try as hard as you can to open your eyes, yet your attempts prove to be impossible. Yet somehow, you manage to utter two words to your lover while your lower half screams in pain at you.

“Thank you…”

Daemon Targaryen:

It was no surprise to anyone when after a few mere moons after your marriage to the rogue Prince Daemon, you were announcing you were pregnant with his child.

The king had said his congratulations and announced a feast in his nephew or nieces name, and even Daemon had to admit the whole ceremony was wonderful.

Yet like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The announcement of the first babe of the rogue prince turned sour as news quickly spread about how much pain you were in from them.

The babe refused to let you rest for even a second. All it did was kick and kick, and make you feel shitter than any other possible ailment in the world. You almost felt like having a conversation with the stranger after one too many bouts of particularly bad spells.

“You must let your muña rest ñuha trēsy… let ñuha jorrāelagon rest…” Daemon murmurs one night against the swollen bulge of your stomach. The warmth his dragon like body providing you with being possibly the best thing he’s given you since the day you married him.

“You know I do not understand a single thing you say in that tongue of yours…” You say, eyes closed as you relish in the lack of kicking and blinding pain. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least obvious now that your child had chosen favourites.

“Just because you cannot understand something does not mean you cannot understand the beauty of it.” Daemon murmurs, his voice gentle and nurturing as he continues attempting to soothe you.

His words to others would be considered strange and out of character. But as you’ve come to realise over the time of your betrothal and marriage, even though that shared time has lasted around only a year, you know deep down beneath the hardened dragon scale skin of his is a heart that bears solely for the life of those he loves. The latest addition being of course the babe of his own blood nestled in your belly.

It was such a lovely moment, and yet it seemed that would be the last of its kind the rest of the time your babe was steadily growing inside. The more time passed the less Daemons unusually warm body worked in soothing your unrelenting aches and pains.

“Are you okay ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asks one evening, his brows furrowed in what has become a near constant state of stress and worry for you. For is has now nearly been a full nine moons of pregnancy, and with that, it means the babe will hopefully be born.

“Unless you can get this child out of me with no pain,” You grunt, mentally cursing Daemons cock for being what it was. “Then I suggest you leave me be and allow me to wallow with the seed you yourself placed within me!”

For the first time in a while, Daemons worried stricken face turns cheery as he laughs at the familiar wit of yours that helped him to fall in love with you in the first place. The rest of the day is filled with similar circumstances, as while the babe continues to make your days a misery, Daemon is right by your side never ever venturing too far away from you.

You suppose it is why he insisted on being by your side when two days pass and you were on the birthing bed, his hand locked firmly in yours while your screams echo off the walls. You swear you can feel your cunt tear and drip with blood, yet with how much you screamed you honestly couldn’t be able to hear it.

“Please Daemon!” You beg, a multitude of tears running down your face. “Please make it stop!”

“It’ll be over soon ñuha jorrāelagon…” Daemon tries to comfort you with soft words and a tight reassuring grip, and yet his face clear as day is struck with fear and nervousness.

“You said that hours ago Daemon!” You sob, screaming even more as you feel the dragon spawn within you break even more of your innards. “I just want it out!”

“You will my love you will! You are strong and brave and a fighter! You will not die today do you hear me!?”

Daemons hands envelope the sides of your head to force you to look and him, and yet he’s utterly horrified when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hand that was once clutching his shirt for dear life falls limply by your side.

Daemons words reach no bounds as he insults the maesters and common people alike, swearing if his wife was to die then all shall die with her. So even in the seven hells his wife can make sure she achieves the justice she deserves.

Yet it somehow enrages him further when by the next hour, the maesters have managed to successfully take out the babe from within you, and present it to him as his first born, whilst other maesters make quick work of stemming the bleeding and disposing of the evidence.

Daemons eyes watche as a wet nurse moves to take his son into her arms and takes him into another room so she can clean his son, and it’s not until they’ve left does he begin to shout.

“IS THAT ALL IT TOOK? MY WIFE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY ON THE BED, BLOOD POURING OUT, AND YET IT IS ONLY WHEN YOUR LIVES ARE THREATENED DO YOU HELP HER?!” He yells, his hand clutching the hilt of dark sister as a reminder that he has the upper hand. He’s the prince of the realm. The rogue Prince. If he wanted to kill people then he will fucking kill someone.

The maesters faces turn ashen as they stand there, practically shaking as they fear for their lives. Daemon is almost tempted to actually kill them. To send a message that no one fucks around with the rogue princes wife. That is however, until he hears a stir behind him and feels a familiarly soft hand clutch his own that previously had clutched dark sister.

“My love!” Daemon breathes, his face one of pure joy as he drops the sword hastily and moves to clutch your still weak body in his arms. “I was so worried!”

“What have you done with my Daemon?” He can hear you say, the laughter in your tone surprising considering what had just happened.

“Don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon, he was here a few moments ago, about to kill some pathetic fucking maesters…” Daemon begins, turning with a dark glare when he sees the said maesters still standing where they were before in fear. “But I suggest they scarper before dark sister becomes hungry for rat blood once more!”

This time, Daemon doesn’t turn back to watch them all practically run from the room. Not when there is someone in front of him so much more important.

“Where are they?” You say, your movements still sluggish as you wince while trying to turn your body to look around the room.

“Where is who ñuha jorrāelagon?” Daemon asks, preoccupied with finding the cup of milk of the poppy one of the maesters had said was somewhere in the room. A hum of satisfaction slipping his lips when he eventually sees it and grabs it, before placing it by your lips to try and force you to drink it.

“Where’s our baby?” You murmur, wincing again when the bitter taste of the drink runs down your throat. “I want to see them!”

“I will get him for you jorrāelagon.” Daemon says, moving to the direction of where the wet nurse had taken his son too. When he does find her, he does not care for whatever she has to say. Instead just moving to take the boy in his arms and walk back to you, who’s already sat up through the pain ready to see your son.

“Oh Daemon…” You breath, your eyes focused solely on the babe in his arms. “He’s beautiful…”

“He takes after you…” Daemon murmurs back. A soft smile on his face as he moves the boy into your arms. “What shall we name him my love?”

“What about Aenor? First of his name…”

“I love it…” Daemon murmurs, kissing the top of your sweat soaked head and moving to perch against the edge of the bed transfixed by the holy sight in front of him. “I love you…”

Aemond Targaryen:

Your husband wasn’t anything except attentive. Every moment after finding out you were with child he spent within meters of yourself. Even when you slept, his hand was always placed on your stomach.

“I would never allow myself to live if you were hurt ñuha vēzos.” Aemond would murmur against your skin, amongst other Valyrian words this time against the curve of your slowly swelling belly. Each one sending your skin further and further aflame with desire and love for your husband.

The whole pregnancy though, for the most of it, was smooth and ordinary. The baby had begun to kick a little after the fifth moon of your pregnancy, and Aemond was eager to experience every part of it. Yet when you’d passed the eighth moon, that was when everything began to turn on its head.

Pain was blooming in your stomach nearly everyday, and even with the maesters having to forcibly pour milk of the poppy down your throat, you had resisted firmly, not wanting the babies health to be put as such risk especially so close to the due date. Especially when you have been in the presence of the king, who openly abused the opioid near daily.

Yet the maesters with stern eyes and unwavering faces, claimed that if anything, it was the pain inside you that would risk the babies health. So whilst you wished pain on the maesters, they stood there stiffly with a near full to the brim cup of the drink. They watched every time you were needed to drink it. Even going as far as to make you open your mouth wide to make sure you weren’t resisting.

Aemond though like he had done so earlier in your pregnancy, was never as far as an arms reach. He never said anything to maesters face to face, yet he certainly did not hide his anger from you when the two of you would lay in bed holding one another in a close embrace.

“If it weren’t for the babe, I’d strike them where they stand…” He’d begun to murmur. Starting his now usual evening moan about how according to him, they weren’t good enough to care for his pregnant wife. Sometimes it’s sad as you realise how he at his lowest points believes even he is not good enough for you.

“Don’t let that stop you…” You indiscreetly murmur back, a clear glare on your face as you try to drink something to wash away the bitter taste of milk of the poppy.

“Dont you tempt me now ñuha vēzos… I very much can and will make my way to wherever those men lie and slaughter them before it’s time to break fast tomorrow.” Aemond chuckles, a comforting hand on your stomach where near instantly you can feel the babe kick twice. As if the babe was eager to say hello to its father.

“That’s right ñuha valītsos… kepa is here…” Aemond murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your very spine. If you weren’t already eight moons pregnant, you very well would be eager to take him right at this moment and take his seed deep inside till it takes root.

“You are getting distracted valītsos…” Aemond says, smirking at the dark blush that spreads on your face. It matters not how long you’ve been married to Aemond for, since he’ll always manage to find a way to fluster him. You suppose it’s as fun for him as it is for you to fluster him. Though you suppose by doing that is how you ended up in this position in the first place…

“How can I not, when theres such a beautiful man in front of me?” You say, grinning triumphantly when Aemonds own face turns a light pink. It’s not as dark as your own, but even seeing Aemond blush without him trying to hide himself away counts as a win to you.

The two of you revel in the rare soft moment between you both, and it’s not long before you both fall asleep holding each other.

It felt so perfect at that moment, as all the previous worries about the babe swept away. The both of you honestly didn’t think the whole ordeal could get worse. That is however, until your waters broke and you were lying on the birthing bed. Your screams breaking Aemonds heart as he tries his best to comfort you to the best of his ability.

Yet his controlled anger and frustration comes out in waves as your screams continue further and further into the day, and the maesters it seems are no further to helping you than from when they started.

Aemond withholds every single urge to kill them for their insolence for your sake, given that they are supposedly they best men available to help bring his and your child into the world. Though when he sees your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp after attempting to push the babe out again per the maesters instructions, all hell broke loose there and then.

“What have you done!?” Aemond yells, his voice whilst commanding also torn with how scared he feels at that moment. His uncles wife, and his grandsires wives had died in childbirth attempting to bring a child into the world. He cannot have such a thing happen to you.

“You are meant to help my wife not fucking kill her! If she is to die today then so shall all of you! Your blood shall stain these walls if she dies do you all understand!” He yells, tears brimming in his eyes from how emotional he currently feels. Aemond refuses to let go of you hand as the maesters scurry around like rats to appease him.

It’s not long before the sound of a babes cry brings him from his sorrowful thoughts.

“It’s a daughter my Prince.” One of the maesters says, before handing her off to a nearby maid presumably to go clean her off of all of your blood and other bodily fluids Aemond most certainly does not wish to be thinking of right now.

Instead, Aemond chooses to grab a lone damp cloth free from any uncleanliness, and carefully uses it to wipe away the sweat on your face. Yet even with all of that Aemond still believes you to be as beautiful as when he first ever saw you.

The sound of your blood onto the floor that Aemond had tried to ignore for his own sake earlier finally stops, and he’s grateful that the maid comes back with his daughter then so he doesn’t have to think about any of that.

“I will give the baby to a wetnurse my Prince for her first feed.” The maid begins to say, about to walk away. That is however before she feels the princes hand clutching tightly on her shoulder forbidding her to leave.

“She will feed from her mother.” Aemond says firmly, moving to take his daughter away from the silly woman’s grasp. “‘Twas a decision me and my wife made and you shall respect that. Now leave.”

The maid stands there a moment surprised, even looking to the maesters for guidance in the situation. But when Aemond looks up at them with a cold glare on his face and a sneer on his lips, both the maesters and the maid make quick work on leaving the Prince with his daughter in his arms and his unconscious wife by his side.

He does not know how long it is till you finally begin to stir, and yet it does not matter. All that does matter is that you woke at all.

“How are you feel ñuha vēzos?” Aemond murmurs, his daughter in one arm as in the other he holds the cup holding the milk of the poppy he makes you drink. Making sure you don’t waste a drop.

“Like I’ve given birth…” You simply say, suddenly focusing on the baby in Aemonds arms. “Is that-“

“Yes ñuha vēzos. This is our daughter.”

Aemonds hands her to you, and when she begins to stir it’s almost instantly you bring down your dress and place her near your breast. Hissing slightly as she begins to immediately nurse from it.

“She’s beautiful.” You find yourself saying, refusing to take your eyes from her. “She looks like you sweet husband.”

“She may look like me but I believe she has her mother’s beauty.” Aemond says, moving to hold your hand in his. “What shall we name her my love?”

“What about Elaenor?”

“It’s perfect…” Aemond says, kissing the top of your head. “She’s perfect…”

Jacaerys Velaryon:

It appears Jacaerys was ever as loyal as they say. As even after being married in an arranged fashion, and finding out you were pregnant with his child after consummating the marriage, his presence was never far from you.

When in the middle of the night sickness plagued your body, it was Jace who was right there next to you with a bucket in hand. Even going as far as to hold your hair back with his hand so no sick could ruin it.

“Is this what it is like for all women?” Jace asks, attempting to smooth you while you once again throw your dinner up into a bucket, groaning whilst you do so.

“Only the lucky…” You moan, about to turn to look at your husband before you find yourself immediately needing to throw up again.

At first, it was strange to you to have a husband be so close and eager to be by up side, given the stories that your mother had told you. Yet now, you honestly could not think of your marriage without the little services Jace provides you with.

Whenever you find yourself craving a certain food, no matter how bizarre or disgusting it may seem to him, Jace was always willing to call a maid and inform her to make it for you.

“Thank you husband.” You sigh in delight, chewing on some honey dipped carrots in the comfort of yours and Jaces bed.

“It is no problem my lady.” He says, awkwardly perched by the edge of the bed covers while he watches you eat.

“You can come closer Jace…” You laugh, patting the side of the bed indicating your want to have him closer to you. His warmth comforting. His smile kind. “You have seen me naked before. I do not think you have the ability right now to be shy. Call me by my name Jace. It is only fair since I have been calling you by yours.”

“Of course… wife.” Jace smiles, a strange girlish sounding giggle leaving your lips as he moves himself closer and opens his arms so he can enclose you in them. “Has the babe been bothering you much today?”

“Only as much as usual.” You sigh, choosing to invite his pointed stare in honour of eating another one of your special foods. “Though not as much as I have been eating these.”

“That is good.” He simply says, softly kissing the top of your head as he touches the skin of your arms with his hand. “That is good…” He repeats again more gentler than the last.

The next few months all went smooth as they could go. You were still throwing up in the mornings and some evenings, and experienced some horrible cramps once every few weeks. What was the most difficult and painful thing you had to endure however, was the birth of the babe itself.

It felt like it was ripping out of you. Screams pierced the air as it felt as if the babe was determined to take your insides out with it.

“It hurts!” You cry, holding Jaces hand so hard he has to hide any audible winces in pain, as whilst he is not the most experience man with women, he knew at that moment to not even think about saying his own pain. Not when he could tell his pain was like a mere headache compared to your own.

“It will soon be over!” Jace says, trying to squeeze your hand in an attempt to comfort you and let you know he is here. But with how much pain is flowing through your system he honestly doubts you can feel it right now.

“I just want it out!” You yell, screaming again as the maester intruders you to push. It’s almost like a rhythm, as when the maester tells you to push, you push. And when you push, you scream at the top of your lungs. It’s like that for what feels like hours and hours on end.

Yet soon, it’s finally over, as the maester finally steps away from you holding a crying baby. The maester looks at him, and shows him his crying daughter.

“A daughter my Prince.” The maester says, placing her in Jaces arms. Your husband’s eyes unable to tear away from the smallest child he thinks he’s ever seen. Possibly smaller than Joffrey from when he saw him as a child.

He turns to you to show you with a smile on his face, but that soon disappears when he sees your face.

“My love?” Jace begins, looking worriedly at your pale sweat layered skin. “You do not look well…”

You try to answer, and yet you even with all your strength you cannot even find yourself able to move your lips, your head even.

That though is when Jace turns his own head and sees the frantic moving of all the maesters and ladies in the room. It’s when he hears a most frightening of sounds. The sound of your blood falling and dripping onto the stone floor. It’s almost worse when he sees how deeply stained your dress is by your own blood.

He’s frozen as he stands there, completey horrified by what he’s seeing and hearing and yet he cannot find himself able to move. His daughter still in his arms, only it’s when she begins to fuss and make sound does another lady in waiting take her into her own arms to put her from the room.

The maesters are beginning to yell now. At the ladies in waiting mainly but to each other a handful of times too. They sound too loud. But that may be because Jace hasn’t said a word since you collapsed against a bed. He does not know what it is he should say. He does not know what it is he should do. His mother has insisted he be in the birthing room alone with his wife, and yet here he is standing alone in the middle of it looking like an idiot.

Yet while he’s thinking, it’s like some sort of driven force when he suddenly realises he’s been holding your hand. Your skin feeling cold and damp from sweat, and Jace stays there the entire time holding onto your hand and staring at you face. He commits to memory the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and the feeling of your heartbeat in his hand. He blocks out the sounds of chaos and panic, and chooses to focus on you.

Jacaerys slowly watches the colour bloom back into your face when the maesters finally manage to stem the flow of your blood and keep it inside you. Yet when he sees you open your eyes sluggish and exhausted, he cannot help but have his heart speed in happiness and joy. The smiles may have to come later though.

"My love, how do you feel?" Jace asks, still clutching your hand as he edges himself closer to you.

"Like l've given birth.." You simply say, even smiling as you slowly turn your head to look around the room. "Where is the babe?"

"She is with one of the ladies in the other room, if you wish me to fetch her I shall." He asks, watching as your eyes widen and your mouth fall open in what he can only say in a comedic fashion. Not that he'd dare mention that here though that is.

"We have a daughter…" You say, so silently that he barely even heard you. "Yes. Yes I want to see her!"

"I will go get the lady." Jace says, letting go of your hand for the first time in hours and admittedly as soon as he escapes your sights wipes the thick layer of sweat lingering on his hand on his shirt.

When he arrives back with his daughter in his arms though, he cannot help but smile as he watches your entire face light up at the sight of the babe with what could only be utter awe.

"We did that..." You say, reaching out and immediately rocking the small girl when she's in your arms. "We made her..."

“Yes…” Jace can’t help but agree with you, placing his hand on you as he sits beside you on the bed, watching you as you hold his and your child closely to your breasts. “We made her…”

[theamaus]

If you’re up for it, could we please see more of Ivan and Pyros prison adventures? I think it’s a really cool idea, especially with poor Pyros need to hide his(her?) face.

Love your art!!!

Sure have some more!

Part 1 HERE

Ivan learns a lot about Pyro during their time together. Little quirks, likes and dislikes, their name and he never shares any of it with anyone, at pyros request. They become bros for life

[cool-island-songs]

Analysis of ALNST Character Relationship Metrics

My art book won't be here for a minute, but I ran some screenshots I saw on twt through an image translator and have a lot of thoughts:

TILL: Despite claiming to hate everyone in the world, Till ranks Ivan at 70% intimacy even as he identifies perturbing behaviors of Ivan's going back years and refers to him as "a bother". He also ranks Sua at 10% in spite of having little to say about her and finding it uncomfortable to be around her.

Though he postures at being misanthropic and has all the manners you'd expect of a boy who was half off at the human child pound, he's actually quite gentle and sensitive. This is reflected in one of the graduation messages he's left by a classmate as well:

The person he feels closest to is an unattainable crush, and someone who doesn't feel that close with him in return, likely because he's too shy to really approach her or carry on a conversation.

MIZI: That's Mizi, of course, who's rather childlike and naive initially. She likes everyone, but since Till chokes when he tries to speak to her and often keeps his distance, she wonders if he's avoiding her because he dislikes her.

Mizi gravitates towards people who she sees as "perfect", which is how she describes Ivan and Sua in her graduation message to Ivan:

She doesn't see the darker side of Ivan's personality (which has been described on several occasions, even by himself, as "twisted") because he's attractive, successful, and helpful to her.

Though she likes everyone, Sua is her "God", and the only thing that can keep them apart is the tragedy of their situation, which forces Mizi to grow up in a brutally painful way.

SUA: Sua is far less idealistic and naive than Mizi, and has clearly thought about sacrificing herself to save Mizi, since Ivan picks on her for thinking of doing so in an official comic. Accordingly, her feelings about Mizi are far more tinged by the knowledge that they will one day be torn apart by external circumstances. She laments that reciprocating her feelings will one day cause Mizi great pain.

She's always been more somber, and despite her surface similarities to Ivan (which he notes in a follow-up comic wherein he realizes he was wrong about Sua's feelings for Mizi being unrequited), she's quite different on the inside. Sua's more sensitive and thus her colder exterior serves to protect her, whereas Ivan's outward persona creates an illusion of normalcy that doesn't reflect his reality.

Sua views Ivan and Till as a threat and a nuisance, respectively. Like Till, she senses something strange about Ivan, and when it comes to Till, it's just one person too many around for her. This is fascinating to me, because I thought she might pity Till! Her feelings about Ivan were already pretty clear from this panel of the 'piggyback' comic, and she seems deeply hurt in the first comic linked by his prodding.

IVAN: For his part, Ivan is fascinated by Till even though he's content to sit back and observe, pestering him to get a reaction or his attention for a brief time. He doesn't expect anything in return but wants more than anything to be on Till's mind (hence behaviors like stealing Till's belongings and returning them to him, pretending he had found them).

He prefers Sua to Mizi despite his awareness that Sua doesn't particularly like him, seeing her as a sister and even telling her she's "twisted" like he is. He likes Mizi well enough, especially her sincerity, but seems to find her optimism a bit much at times.

The fact that Mizi and the others would likely consider Ivan and Mizi quite close while Ivan does not reflects how much he postures even in his closest relationships. He struggles to connect with those he's most compelled by and it's not clear if he really wants to.

Some Ivantill thoughts before I go:

There seems to be a common sentiment that it's tragic Till was unable to see how much Ivan loved him, and I think we'll likely get more of Till's perspective on Ivan and their relationship in round 7. But it may not be the case that Ivan even wanted his true feelings to be seen, or would have known what to do if Till had reciprocated them.

There's something almost voyeuristic and self-negating in his feelings for Till (see: "I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone/You who shines, I stand next to you" from 'Black Sorrow'). He has far more self-awareness and willingness to accept things as they are than Till, who doesn't see that Mizi only has eyes for Sua and who would likely struggle to accept that reality.

Ivan, on the other hand, is well aware that his feelings for Till are "shallow", a bright fantasy to get him through his dark reality, and he seems to sincerely believe that his death won't scar Till because he's never really broken through to him. He's a schemer, and comments he makes in his graduation message to Till and the interview he gives in advance of round 6 suggest that he may have been planning to sacrifice himself for some time.

Part of me wonders if he hoped it would leave a mark on Till. Choking, kissing, and violently sacrificing oneself are all aggressive, forward acts, especially from someone who used to toy with people to get his kicks but was otherwise quite passive and unfeeling.

There are a lot of parallels in the one-sided loves, like Till acting out of his usual character for Mizi, and Ivan doing the same because of Till, putting all hopes of being saved in something just out of reach, staying in chains for that one special person. But Ivan's psychology is quite different from Till's, and in fact closest to Luka's re: low or no empathy. Both Ivan and Till are significantly traumatized by their upbringings but Ivan's difficult early life in the slums and his experience being dangled off that rooftop seem to have damaged his ability to connect to others or feel much of anything.

Till is the first person for whom he feels anything while for Till, Mizi is an early crush he puts on a pedestal in a much more commonplace way. I think the shared trauma of competing on that stage makes it much more difficult for either of them to imagine moving on, but Ivan is not wrong in identifying that he won't find that feeling again.

The thing that intrigues me most about this series is the way the contestants' differences play out, particularly with regard to how they view love and how they respond to their individual and shared challenges. I'd love to get into it further another time but this is quite long already so thanks for sticking with it if any have (haha)

[zoe-oneesama]

Since SL is ending, do u have a favorite outfit you wished you could have draw more of it? Can be any character.

You unlocked something in me cuz I went digging for these:

I drew this super cute coat-dress for Rose and then only got to show the back of it?! And I looooved this fall look on Alya so much I tried to use it again in "Puppeteer" but barely got use out of it there either. And I deliberately referenced my favorite Akane Tendo from Ranma 1/2 look with Mylene...and then only showed her tiny 😭😭

This blink-and-you'll-miss-it look for Alix was so layered and so what I think I'd put Alix in as her permanent outfit if I was designing her for the show. Same for this adorable oversized fit for Ondine, she needs an "out of the water" look. As for Chloe and Sabrina, I felt like these both really reflected them well so it's too bad I only got two pages out of them.

I actually DID get a lot of real-estate out of this Alya look, I just liked it so much I want to see it more. And this Nino doesn't blow my mind but I drew him so cute in my sketchbook quick sketch that I want to bring the look back just to recapture the magic. And this long skirt on Nadja made her look kinda hot, I waited to late to start messing with the adults.

I just really liked the few times I got to draw Juleka in this look, I wonder if it's actually the hair that I liked most. And poor Marc, I drew them in this "is it a shirt? is it a dress?" look but you never see below their waist! And I killed it with these three, you can tell that I just really like the outfits I made for Alya, Kagami doesn't get to wear casual clothes enough, and Nino isn't super fashionable, but when I nail it for him I NAIL it!

I like making the rich kids casual. (Also I fully admit that there's just something about showing off guys collarbones for me, idk what it is). I especially like this Chloe look because it's inspired by fellow creator @mikoriin's artwork of her! Ivan is hard to get excited about because I feel like part of his visual design is that he's NOT fashionable (I mean he's wearing two different shades of black, the nightmare) so when I can trick him into looking good, I like it 💖And I like most of the looks I give Lila, wanting to see her outfit more is just me wanting to write her more.

Last but not least, the Hero fits from the kids. If you add in Alya dressed as Fox Trot, the Cesaires cover the Main 4 of SL (pre Ladybug) lol. It's a shame that they couldn't show off their hero worship more.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (part 3/5)

(part 1) (part 2)

Summary: You've been adopted before. That's why you know better than to hope for another chance, especially a second chance with the Bahrs

-----

It’s not that you don’t want to be adopted. You just know that you’re not going to be. You’re the oldest in the orphanage, barely three years away from aging out. People don’t adopt kids your age, especially not obstinate, mean ones like you.

Besides, you’re a Hero. As soon as you master your power, you’ll be compelled to leave and fight evil anyway. That’s why it doesn’t matter if the Bahrs want you or not. You’re not somebody that’s supposed to have a family.

You barely remember the first time you were adopted. That was back when the Director of the orphanage was mean and biting. You have a vague memory of gold exchanging hands and leaving in the middle of the night. Your new parents barely looked at you and didn’t call you by your name at all.

You don’t remember a lot of that time. You were five and it was a struggle to go from living with a dozen kids to no one at all. Your new family gave you your own room in their small house and told you not to get underfoot.

The first time you ran away from their house, you didn’t get far. The baker in town brought you back to them and warned them about how kids your age are always slipping out when not paid enough attention.

“If you do it again,” the person who paid for you said, “you’re going straight back to the orphanage.”

And you do.

--------.

The day of the picnic, every kid wakes up early without being told.

You watch as Hera fusses over all the younger ones, straightening new shirts and brushing dust off knees. Josiah is reading one of the newest books Mrs. Bahr – Marie – brought, biting the skin on the side of his thumb. You snag Hera as she races to find Annie some ribbon for her hair.

“Hold up, let me brush your hair first,” you say.

Hera frantically pats the braids she slept in. “I forgot about my hair!” She turns large, watery eyes on you. “Islaaaa!”

You snort and help her unwind each braid. She decides to leave it down, charmed by the waves the braids left in her hair. Your hands don’t shake as you work even though your heart is racing. Today is the day of the picnic.

Today might be the day the Bahrs pick one of you to adopt. The younger kids don’t know that, the information carefully hidden from them, but Hera knows. Director Sarah knows. You know.

It’s been a long time since you felt this sort of anxiety. The second time you were adopted was just before the Winter and it wasn’t bad at first. The couple who adopted you ran an inn in town. It was exciting to have your own room and your new mother wanted you to call her Mom right away. Six-years-old and you were so excited just to be able to call someone your parent. This time you were going to listen. You weren’t going to run away or complain if their house felt too big and too lonely. This time you were going to get it right.

You didn’t think about what they wanted from you in exchange.

It wasn’t until the second week when they found out you weren’t really much use for anything that things started getting bad.

You breathe in through your nose and proclaim Hera’s hair finished. She thanks you and races off to find Annie, determined to put the ribbon she picked in the younger girl’s hair.

The Bahrs aren’t like the innkeepers. Whoever they adopt won’t be expected to know how to read or do math or how to take care of horses. If they are required to then Marie and Ivan will teach them first. Both have spent enough time at the orphanage for you to believe that. Isn’t it Marie who’s teaching all of you your letters? Wasn’t it Ivan who taught you how to better put up a fence?

Whoever they choose will be fine, you think. It’s both a relief and a sting. Whoever they choose will be fine. It’s just probably not going to be you. Not when Annie is so sweet and social and Hera is so strong and kind. Not when Josiah works so hard to soak up everything they have to teach him.

“Is everyone ready?” Director Sarah asks. She’s standing by the door. Her clothes are nicer than usual too, a dress made of a light blue fabric you’ve never seen before. Her hair is carefully combed back into an updo and fastened with a tie Hera made for her last winter. She runs a critical eye over all of you. “You all look very nice. Josiah, tie your shoes, please. Annie, leave the slate in your room, what you do if you lost it? Honestly…”

You let Director Sarah fuss over the kids, slipping out the door ahead of everyone. You don’t own a dress, but the button-down shirt is new and starched. Director Sarah helped you embroider bluebells on the collar and sleeves, and you think it turned out well.

You may not be getting adopted today, but you’re excited to see the Bahr family’s estate. The sun is warm overhead, the sky an endless blue. The summer is mild this year, perfect for a party. Isn’t that what Mr. Bahr – Ivan – told you to think of it as? A party. No strings attached.

A wagon comes up the lane. The Bahr family’s home is too far for the younger kids to walk to, past the town and closer to the Lord’s manor. They said they’d send a wagon for all of you, but something still clenches in your chest when you actually see it. Wagons are an expense the orphanage can’t justify, but, apparently, the Bahrs can.

The driver smiles kindly when he pulls up next to you. “Everyone ready to go?”

Before you can answer, the kids are pouring out the front door, chattering excitedly. You help Director Sarah lift the smaller ones into the seats near the front. The wagon is open topped, so Director Sarah can look over everyone sternly, twisting around in her spot next to the driver.

“No playing during the ride,” she instructs. “Mr. Dallen is very kindly driving us so you must listen to him, alright?”

Mr. Dallen also turns around. “I don’t have too many rules,” he says. He pretends to think, scratching his thick beard.  He grins “Don’t fall out!”

He’s joking, but that’s why you’re stationed at the back of the wagon. From your seat, you’ll be able to stop any roughhousing before “falling out” becomes a real danger. Already you’re eyeing the way Josiah is fidgeting. He’s incredibly calm when he’s reading, but otherwise he’s like a tornado. There’s a reason he’s the one that fell into the well in the first place. Hera sits primly next to him, her hands folded in her lap. You can tell she’s watching him from the corner of her eye. There’s a reason she’s the one who pulled Josiah out of the well.

Mr. Dallen directs the horses away from the orphanage, through the orchard, and along the road cutting through the fields. When you’re going to the forest to hunt, you take the narrower path that winds through the orchard and more directly into the tree line. The wagon is forced to stay on the wider road where the horses won’t sink into any mud and the wagon wheels won’t catch on rocks or dense foliage.

After the fields is the town. The kids wave to every Villager and Blacksmith they see. “Good day!” “Morning!” “We’re going to a picnic!” Hera pulls Annie back from the edge of the wagon before she tips over onto the street.

You slouch in your seat, wishing you were wearing a hat. While the first family who adopted you left town ages ago to live in the Capital, the innkeepers are still around. You don’t look as you pass their business and try not to listen to Josiah carefully sounding out the name of their inn.

When you open your eyes, Director Sarah is looking at you. You okay? She mouths. She wasn’t at the orphanage for your first adoption, but she was there for the innkeepers. You feign going to sleep. Just tired. She pretends to believe you and turns back to continue chatting with Mr. Dallen.

The kids are excited to go through the forest. Many of them are too young to even go into town with Director Sarah, a privilege you earn at ten years old, and they point to every bird, deer and mushroom they see amongst the trees. You let the sound of nature and the kids’ chatter lull you into a sort of meditation. The estate is only thirty minutes away now that you’re out of town.

You’re nearly dropping off to sleep when Director Sarah’s voice changes in pitch. Your sensitive hearing can pick up a thread of concern in her voice. What makes Director Sarah concerned, makes you concerned.

“—demons in the woods,” Sarah is saying very quietly. She glances out of her peripherals towards the back to make sure no kids are listening. If she notices how you’re only pretending to sleep, she doesn’t show any sign of it. “Shouldn’t we ask the kids to be quiet?”

“The Lord’s Knights have been patrolling,” Mr. Dallen says equally quietly. You can see him scan the trees for a moment before he smiles reassuringly at Director Sarah. “We’ll be okay so long as we stick to the road.”

“Alright.”

You keep a closer eye on the surrounding forest.

“There! There it is!”

Annie’s shout drags you attention from a (suspiciously) shadowed gully. The woods have thinned enough that hedges of the Bahrs’ estate can be seen. You’ve only been out this far once, a long, long time ago. You’ve never been past this point.

You’re just as surprised as the rest of the kids when the hedges give way to a castle.

That’s not a manor. You’ve never seen either, but you’re sure of this. Manors are supposed to look like the orphanage or any of the buildings in town, just larger. The Bahrs’ home has towers. The front doors are three times the height of a regular one and you can see that the handles and knockers are made of copper. The stone isn’t white like the castles in picture books, but it’s clean and neatly cut.

“Wow,” Hera breathes.

You agree.

Mr. Dallen directs the horses right up the main driveway, cheerfully explaining that the roses are the flower of the estate, aren’t they beautiful? Even Hera can only manage a faint noise of agreement, eyes wide on the house.

“The party’s around back,” Mr. Dallen says cheerfully. He clicks his tongue and the horses stop just short of the front doors. “I’ll take you there.”

Around back. You expect him to lead you around the side of the castle, past rows of rose bushes and the fountains that are tucked between the hedges. Instead, Mr. Dallen opens the front doors without knocking and directs everyone to follow him.

You’ve never seen anywhere so grand. The kids follow Mr. Dallen in hushed awe, gaping at the marble staircase that bisects the foyer. There are two chandeliers to either side of the grand staircase that each send a spray of rainbow light across the walls. Is the manor a little bare? The walls empty of portraits and artwork? You eye a pair of crossed axes hanging just beyond the shadow of the staircase.

“They’re ordering portraits from the Capital,” Mr. Dallen says, gesturing carelessly to the space where a portrait of the homeowners might hang. Then under his breath, “Unless they hang more swords there instead.”

“Excuse me?” Hera asks.

“Nothing,” Mr. Dallen says cheerfully. He guides them past the staircase and a row of doors to the back of the house. The large doors at the back of the house are already open. Mr. Dallen cups a hand over his mouth and calls, “Ho ho, look here! Look who’s arrived!”

“Surprise!” Ivan shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. He’s standing on the stone patio just outside the house, but he’s not the only one. Mrs. Bahr is next to him, her hands clasped in front of her, beaming. Behind her is a dozen other adults. “It’s a party!”

“Welcome,” Mrs. Bahr says warmly. She’s dressed elegantly in a long, red tunic that’s embroidered with the Lord’s crest. The Lord is here as well, his golden hair and eyes unmistakable even amongst the crowd. “Welcome to our home.”

You’re already at the back of the group, but you hang back further as the younger kids cautiously step out into the sun. Your eyes flick from face to face. You recognize a few of the people. There’s the Baker from town and her wife, there’s the Merchant that comes through every third week, there’s the Villager that donates zucchini—

And there are the innkeepers who, once upon a time, told you to call them your parents. They’re older than you remember, light hair gone silver in the sun, but it’s them. They’re right by the Lord, eagerly waiting near him for the opportunity to talk.

It’s very clear what this is. You watch the kids stream out onto the patio to greet Ivan and Marie. The other adults study the kids like zoo animals, eyes flicking to their clean party outfits to their happy faces. This isn’t a party for the kids. It’s a party for them. They’re showing off to each other. Look at how great they are! They’re helping out the poor orphan kids! You’re very familiar with these sort of events from back when the other Director was in charge. You just didn’t think you’d ever have to be near one again.

You take a step back and are stopped by Director Sarah.

“It’s okay, Isla,” Director Sarah murmurs. You didn’t even notice her falling back to your side. Her hand is gentle on your elbow. “It’s not what you think.”

Not what you think? You watch the Villager who runs the general store ask Josiah about the book he’s reading. The Bahrs are proudly introducing Annie and Hera to the Lord. There is something different about it, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. All you can see is the way the adults are watching the kids. You breathe in through your nose like Ivan taught you. In. Out. “What is it?”

“Fixing my mistake,” Director Sarah says.

That gets your attention. Your eyes dart from the happy scene in front of you to Sarah and back again. With the white umbrellas over the food tables, the streamers strung between garden trellises, and the kids dressed in their best, it looks like a painting. In contract, Sarah’s lips are pursed and the shadows of the house make her appear more tired than she is.

“There’s a parlor,” Mr. Dallen says. You jump when he speaks and he grimaces apologetically. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “If you need to talk.”

Marie is looking over the heads of the kids to where you’re standing, a frown on her face. She mouths your name, concern in her eyes. Your jaw clenches when the Merchant steps in front of her, hiding you from view.

“Yeah,” you say. “Let’s talk.” You spin on your heel.

Sarah follows you silently. You feel wrong-footed and caged by the entire situation. This was supposed to be a picnic, wasn’t it? No strings attached? Your dress shirt is tight around your neck and you flick open the top button.

“I should have told you,” Sarah says as soon as the door closes. There are two couches in the room adjacent to a large window that overlooks the party. Neither of you sits down. Sarah folds her hands in front of her skirts. “I apologize.”

“What are they doing here?” you ask. You gesture to the window. “The Lord, I understand. He’s the Lord. But the Baker? The Merchant?” You bark a laugh. “They’re not here to adopt anyone.”

“Maybe not,” Sarah says evenly, “but they’re good connections to have.”

“Connections?” You scoff. You remember watching the empty road through that winter nearly seven years ago. “What good are their connections?”

“Annie loves baking,” Sarah says. She doesn’t flinch in the face of your anger. She watches you calmly and doesn’t so much as shift her weight when you start to pace. “The Baker is a good connection for her to have, even if she doesn’t want to adopt. Many of the shopkeepers in town are open to taking on apprentices.”

You falter. You didn’t think about that. Your eyes drift towards the window. You can hear Hera laughing and Josiah complaining good naturedly. You’re nearly 15, just a few years away from aging out. You can’t say you’ve never thought about the future before. “They said they’d be willing to do that?”

“Who knows what the future holds?” Sarah sighs and goes to take a seat on the sofa. She makes a sound low in her throat when she sits. “That wagon ride was not good for my back.”

“I don’t trust them,” you say. You stop pacing to sit opposite her. From this point in the room, you can see the party on the patio. They can also see you. Ivan doesn’t turn away from the dessert table, but you can sense his attention on you. You swallow. “We don’t need anything from them.”

“I agree,” Sarah says.

You blink. “What?”

Sarah laughs. It’s not her usual laugh that she shows the kids, gentle and fond and warm. It’s cold and a little sharp. You’ve only heard it once before when the snow finally melted, chasing the snow spirits away, and the town came to see what had become of the orphanage.

“You and I are a lot alike,” Sarah says. Her eyes drift somewhere distant. “Like you, I remember that Winter. I remember waiting for any sort of response to our pleas. I remember hearing nothing back. The helplessness I felt as our stores dwindled…” Her voice cracks. She shakes herself, swallowing hard. “Well. I don’t need to tell you what their lack of aid cost us.”

It takes you two tries to speak. Director Sarah feels the same way as you. “So why?”

“Why did I agree to the party?”

“Yes.”

“Because I need to forgive, not forget, if I want to fix my mistake,” Sarah says. Her lips thin. “I’m not perfect. Since I’ve been Director of the orphanage, there hasn’t been a single new hire. There have been no volunteers or extracurricular programs for the kids. I’ve kept us hidden.”

“You’ve kept us protected,” you say. Things under Director Sarah have always been better than what they were before. The kids are happier and brighter, and the pantry is always full. No one disappears in the middle of the night or dies under her watch. “We know you have.”

“I’ve tried,” Sarah says. She opens her hands, palms facing the ceiling. “I rebuilt the orphanage to be independent. I thought that if we were completely self-sustaining, we’d be alright. But in doing so I’ve hurt the children. The orphanage is not supposed to be forever. They need connections with people, with the town, for when they grow up.”

“That—” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You fall silent, your anger fizzling out in your chest. She’s right. As much as you want everyone to stay together, you know that can’t happen. What Sarah is saying isn’t wrong, but… “Today is supposed to be for the kids. Not for them to feel better about themselves helping the orphans.”

“The kids are having fun,” Sarah says. There’s a peal of laughter from outside as if to underscore her words. She smiles as she stands. “Kids includes you too, you know. Let me worry about the adults.”

You stand too. You know the conversation is coming to a close and that, soon, you’ll be expected to go out there with Sarah. “Um…”

“Yes?”

You nearly don’t say it. But the way Sarah is waiting for you to speak is so patient that you muster up the courage. “The innkeepers are here. They aren’t…?”

Again, you’re not sure what you’re about to say. There’s a sick fear in your stomach that they’re here to tell the Bahrs all about how awful you were when you with them. Maybe they’re looking for another kid to demand too much of. Maybe they’re here because, in the end, you didn’t mean anything to them and what happened between you and them doesn’t make a difference--

Even if you don’t know what you’re going to say, Sarah must. Her smile darkens. “I’ll take care of the adults,” she repeats. She smooths her hand over your hair when you follow her to the door. “Why don’t you stay in here for a moment? I’ll just have a word with the innkeepers.”

You wait in the parlor while Sarah joins the party. You twist your hands together to keep from picking at the embroidery on your sleeves. You almost want to stop Sarah from talking to the innkeepers. It was so long ago, before the Winter, it shouldn’t matter anymore. You’re being ridiculous to be so worried about them when there are bigger things going on. You—

Hera throws open the door to the parlor. Her braids are a little frizzy already and there’s a flush high on her cheeks. “Isla! We’re playing team tag and you’re the only one fast enough to catch Marie. Come on!”

You don’t have the option to say no. Hera yanks you by the sleeve out onto the patio. The guests are much more dispersed now, pockets of adults around this table or that. They’re not studying the kids now. They’re just watching them as they run to and fro across the lawn, bemused smiles on their faces.

Ivan cheers when he sees you. Like Hera, his face is bright red. “Isla!” he pants. “You’re on my team!”

Marie sprints past, her skirts hiked up to her knee. She runs as if she’s in full armor, strides long and shoulders square. You wonder if she notices no one is chasing her anymore. “It won’t be enough!” she cries.

Josiah is laying on the grass. He chucks his fist in the air. “Go, Marie! Go!” He gasps for breath. “We’re unstoppable.”

“You’re out,” Annie tells him crossly. She’s also laying flat on her back, but seems to be faring better in the breathing department. “You’ve stopped.”

“Shut it—”

You scan the crowd. You don’t see the innkeepers anywhere, not even near where the Lord is sitting. You look over your shoulder back towards the house just in time to see Director Sarah disappearing around the corner. She’s talking to someone just ahead of her. Is she escorting the innkeepers out?

“Isla?” Hera slips her hand in yours. Her eyes are knowing. “You okay?”

You clear your throat, aware of all the eyes on you. You tuck  some hair that’s escaped her braid behind her ear. “Just trying to decide which team I should join.”

Ivan cries out in dismay. “Isla, please!”

Grinning, you join the game.

-----

(part 1) (part 2)

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to read the conclusion of Isla's tale before next week, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)!

Up this week is a continuation of my Cinderella Retelling, Cinderella Doesn't Believe in Fairytales

[geospiral]

I've seen before people say that one of the main reasons Mizisua often gets mischaracterized as being the only “healthy” couple in the series is because people take Ivan’s, a character who tends to have a very unreliable perspective, admiration and jealousy of their relationship at face value, and while I do agree with this on some level, I think it's more people misunderstanding why Ivan feels that way about them and especially Sua.

To put it bluntly, Ivan feels that way because Sua had with Mizi what he couldn’t have with Till. Yes, in part because he wants the same closeness that the girls had with each other, but also, most crucially, because Sua was able to have that kind of relationship while hiding the more “twisted” parts of herself. The Confession comic and the untitled comic where Ivan antagonizes Sua about her choice to sacrifice herself are both the best sources of showing this and also what I think people are referring to when they talk about Ivan’s venerative perspective on Mizisua. 

Starting with that untitled comic, while I think that Ivan always intended to die instead of Till, I don’t think he necessarily believed that he would have to “sacrifice” himself in order to do that, so while he is a hypocrite, I don’t think he was when confronting Sua here (I’ll talk about this more with the Confession comic). He’s not relieved here because Sua’s going in with the same selfish plan that he has for Alien Stage; what he’s relieved about is finding that her relationship with Mizi isn’t infallible, that despite what good intentions Sua may have, she is still capable and willing to hurt Mizi in part due to a selfish desire (she doesn’t want Mizi to die but also doesn’t want to live with the burden of being in a world without her).

He relates this selfishness to how he is with Till because while Ivan may not want to actually hurt him, he does so because he thinks that's the only way to get Till’s attention, to be close to him (ex: fighting as children and stealing his things), but also it seems that he ends up hurting him even when he has no intention to do so, like with the Cheer Up comic.

(translations by sorrowcure)

Now talking about the Confession comic, Ivan says again that Sua is “twisted” when listing their similarities with the “When I found out that wasn’t true…” line referring to their differing situations regarding the person they adore.

He sees that she can be selfish like him (the sacrifice, Sua hiding the truth about the world from Mizi) but that she never hurts Mizi directly while the two were still alive and that they were always happy.

Going back to what I said about Ivan not planning on sacrificing himself, I think he believed that it wouldn’t be necessary and that Till would be the obvious winner of their round whether he pulled the same move he did with Acorn or if they performed in a straightforward manner like Ivan previously did in the third round. It doesn’t seem that Ivan accounted for how bad Mizi’s disappearance would affect Till and that he might try to throw the round himself (stopped singing), but besides that, Ivan’s logic doesn’t seem that baseless given that Till has basically always been more popular than him and is viewed as being an artistic genius.

The panels where he realizes that he was being hypocritical towards Sua in that untitled comic is what solidify this idea in my mind.

(translation by WhataFruit)

Basically, I don’t think those two comics and that Ivan in general necessarily glorifies Mizisua as a whole but as what he wasn’t able to achieve and desperately craves.

[city-of-ladies]

"In the seventeenth century the words ‘a brave woman’ were more and more frequently used in sermons with reference to women who were constant in their faith, practising such virtues as modesty, devotion to the family and thrift – women who were bringing up a large progeny well. But in the social mentality these words had a broader meaning. They were associated with the type of woman who appeared at the end of the sixteenth century, particularly in the south-eastern territories of the country endangered by the incursions of the Turks and Tartars. It was a type of courageous Amazon who could mount a horse and wield a sword no less competently than a man ��� a woman who could defend her own and her family’s interests and fight an enemy not with women’s, but with men’s, weapons. This Polish virago had her counterparts in Western Europe. The femme forte was glorified in France in the seventeenth century, the mujer varonil was lauded in Spain; the virago became the heroine of countless dramas and poems.

Mannish women in Poland had many opportunities to display their talents. The most famous among them was Marina, the daughter of Polish magnate, Jerzy Mniszech. In 1605 she married Dimitr, the alleged son of Tsar Ivan the Terrible, and in 1609 was crowned in Moscow. After Dimitri was murdered, she married the second impostor and, when the latter also died, she tried to keep the throne for herself. Beautiful and greedy for power, Marina ended her stormy life in a prison and soon became the heroine of numerous legends and poems. The period of Russian civil war enabled her – a woman with a dominant personality and great imagination – to surpass the passive role accorded to women in general.

Life in the eastern and southern borderlands of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth offered many opportunities for women to display their energy and courage. A legend about an energetic bride, Beata Dolska, relates how, on her wedding day in 1577, she saved her native town of Dubno from a Tartar attack. Told about the enemy, the courageous bride rushed on to the ramparts, loaded a cannon and fired a shot which hit the tent of the Khan himself. As a result, the Tartars lifted the siege.

Another famous ‘borderlands’ lioness’, Mrs Teofila Chmielecka, fought bravely at her husband’s side against the Tartars in the 1620s. Unfortunately, she was also a notorious organizer of forays against her neighbours and an extremely cruel mistress: she mutilated one of her servants, a certain Anna Walicka, by cutting off her nose. When her son fell in love with a beautiful girl whose father refused to agree to the marriage, she abducted the girl and arranged the marriage by force. Another lady, Anna Dorota Chrzanowska, wife of the commander of Trembowla castle, roused the defenders of the fortress to action during the siege in 1675 and personally led them in sallies against the Turks; she threatened the soldiers that she would blow up the fortress if they capitulated. In the Ukraine some women took up arms during the Chmielnicki uprising. During the Swedish invasion many women all over the country took part in the war activities.

In times of peace, too, women surpassed their official female roles and, in this respect, we have already mentioned the battles organized by Mrs Chmielecka. In addition, W. Łoziński’s book presents many Polish women engaged in military actions. Forays and armed attacks led by females were by no means a rare occurrence, especially in the borderlands. A. Gradowska has recently come across an interesting example of a fierce family quarrel in the eighteenth century: Mr Kazimierz Drohojowski sued his aunt, Mrs Antonina Księska née Drohojowska, for the sums bequeathed on his village, Bestwinka. The trial continued for 30 years. In the end, the aunt administered justice herself, organizing an attack on her nephew’s house. Drohojowski was shot during the fighting and died from his wounds."

Maria Bogucka, Women in Early Modern Polish Society, Against the European Background

[natsaffection]

Could you do a part 2 of Mine to Use where Natasha realises she's falling in love with Y/N and gets very protective. And something happens to Y/N and we see Nat being very comforting and caring but she's still incredibly stern to everyone else, like she's got a soft spot for only Y/N.

I hope this makes sense xx

🤍

Mine to Use. Pt. 2 | N.R

Warnings: mentions of sex, complicated feelings, Angst to Happy

Word Count: 2,2k

A/N: Sorry Anon that it took so long, but it was a big challenge to rewrite a... Rough, careless person into a caring and soft one, and I hope this all makes sense and you all can follow my train of thoughts..🙏🏻

Part 1

Natasha watched you from her office window, squinting as she noticed you limping slightly. The previous night had been tough, and although Natasha didn't regret her actions, she couldn't shake the unease that nagged at her.

Shaking her head, Natasha tried to dismiss the unusual concern. She was a mob leader, powerful and feared. She didn't have the luxury of vulnerability. Yet, something about you kept drawing her in, making her more protective. She couldn't pinpoint when it started, but Natasha was always aware of Your presence, and your well-being became an unspoken priority.

Unaware of Natasha's inner turmoil, you continued her duties with a sense of quiet resilience. You had grown accustomed to the harshness and even found a strange comfort in it. But recently, Natasha's behavior had changed.

Suddenly Natasha noticed you flinching as you lifted a crate. Her eyes narrowed as she saw a dark bruise on your arm.

"Y/n." Natasha called, her voice a mix of command and concern. You approached, your gaze fixed on the ground, discomfort radiating from you. Natasha gently took your arm, her fingers brushing over the bruise.

"What happened?" Natasha demanded, her voice deep and dangerous. "I-It's nothing..“ you murmured, trying to pull your arm back, but Natasha's grip was firm yet careful.

"Who did this?" Natasha whispered deadly, her eyes not leaving your face. You hesitated, fear flickering in your eyes. "It was just an accident.“ you tried to deflect, but Natasha's expression darkened.

"Who?" Natasha repeated, her tone brooking no argument. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. "It was Ivan. He..I had to swear not to say anything-“

She released your arm, her thumb possessively stroking your cheek. Natasha left the office, her footsteps echoing with determination. The confrontation with Ivan was swift and brutal, the complex buzzing with rumors about her ruthless efficiency. Ivan was quickly dealt with, his fate serving as a clear warning to anyone who dared to oppose her.

Back in her office, Natasha found you still standing there, confusion and fear in your eyes. Natasha's anger melted away as she approached, her demeanor softening. "Nobody touches you," Natasha murmured, her thumb gently stroking the bruise on your cheek. "Not like that."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't understand why Natasha valued you so much, but the possessiveness in her touch was unmistakable.

In the days that followed, Natasha's protective instinct only grew stronger. She became a constant presence, her behavior towards others becoming even more relentless while a subtle tenderness began to emerge in her interactions with you. During their intimate moments, Natasha's touch became gentler, a stark contrast to her usual roughness.

You noticed the change but kept your thoughts to yourself, fearing to disturb the fragile balance. Natasha's inner struggle was palpable. She was a woman who thrived on control, yet her feelings for you were something she could neither command nor deny. One day, as you walked through the complex, you overheard two men whispering.

"Have you heard about Ivan? He's not coming back."

"Yeah, She took care of him. Nobody messes with her, especially when it comes to her girl.." Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't known the extent of Natasha's actions, but now it was clear. Natasha had eliminated Ivan because of you. The realization left you equally confused and touched. Why had Natasha gone so far to protect you?

That evening, as Natasha lay beside you after a session, you couldn't hold back your curiosity any longer. "Miss Romanoff, may I a-ask you something?" you said quietly, your voice trembling. „Go on.“

"Why did you do it? Why did you take care of Ivan?" Natasha's body tensed. She struggled to maintain her cold demeanor. "Because no one touches you except me,.“ she replied, her voice firm and possessive. "You belong to me, and only I have that right."

Your heart pounded, Disappointment gnaws at you "I.. understand.." you whispered, snuggling closer to Natasha. That night, as Natasha lay awake, she was overwhelmed by her thoughts. She realized with startling clarity that her feelings for you went beyond mere possession. There was something deeper, something she couldn't ignore.

Natasha's mind raced with the implications of her realization. Her chest tightened at the thought of losing someone like you. Again. She drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams plagued with images of you being taken from her. The nightmare felt so real that Natasha woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, she panicked, forgetting where she was. Then she felt your steady breathing beside her and calmed down a little.

Natasha lay still, her body tense, listening to your gentle breathing. The nightmare had shaken her to her core. She could no longer deny it. She was deeply and irrevocably falling for you. Something she thought she would never experience again.

To clear her head, Natasha carefully extricated herself from your embrace and slipped out of bed. She quietly stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the turmoil inside her. She lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and stared into the darkness, her thoughts a chaotic jumble.

She had vowed to remain tough back then. That nothing could hurt her again. Yet here she was, vulnerable and exposed because of another person. The realization that she could lose you scared her more than any enemy ever could. She smoked in silence, trying to calm her nerves, but the fear remained.

Back inside, Natasha found you still peacefully asleep. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching you for a moment, the emotions she felt battling with her instinct to protect herself from potential pain. In the dim light, Natasha's resolve hardened. She would protect you with everything she had. She lay back down, pulling you into her arms and holding you tightly.

Morning crept through the curtains, bathing the room in warm light. Natasha lay awake, her mind buzzing with the vivid nightmare that had woken her in the night. She looked over at you, still sleeping peacefully beside her.

Natasha quietly slipped out of bed again. She needed time to collect her thoughts for the day. She went outside for her morning run. The cool morning air bit at her skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the inner turmoil.

As she watched the city wake up, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that things were changing. Her feelings for you were growing stronger, and the protective instinct she felt was becoming overwhelming. She knew she would have to confront these feelings eventually, but for the moment, she focused on the present and found solace in the fact that you were safe.

You woke up and noticed that Natasha had already left. You didn't see her at work either. Later that day, you met with your colleague Emma at a nearby bar after work. Emma had become a trusted friend, someone you could confide in. They found a quiet corner and ordered drinks, the atmosphere relaxed and casual.

"You've got a lot on your mind. How's it going with her?" Emma asked, taking a sip of her drink. You sighed and swirled your glass. "It's... strange. She's been... different lately, distracted. I think something has changed, but I can't put my finger on it."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. "You know, it's hard to imagine, but Natasha wasn't always like this. Tough and grumpy, I mean. She used to be softer, more open. That was before everything happened with her wife."

Your curiosity was piqued. "Her wife?" Emma took a deep breath, her expression turning sad. "Yes. They were very much in love. But she was killed in a gang war. It completely changed Natasha. She became colder, more ruthless, to protect herself from the pain I think.“

You felt a pang of sympathy and sadness. Now you understood why Natasha was so aggressive and protective these days. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, and it scared you even more.

"That's why she's like this now.." you whispered more to yourself than to Emma. Emma nodded. "Yes. She's afraid of losing someone she might love again. Like you, Y/N... maybe she feels the same way."

Meanwhile, Natasha couldn't stop thinking about you at her penthouse. Impulsively, she grabbed her phone and texted you, her message leaving no room for disagreement.

Come over.

You sighed, feeling the weight of duty. "Speak of the devil. I have to go..." During the drive to Natasha's house, your thoughts were a whirlwind of feelings and emotions. The conversation with Emma had stirred something deep within you, and you could no longer ignore it. When you arrived, you knew you couldn't just continue as before. Maybe there is a little chance?

Natasha met you at the door, her eyes scanning you for signs of discomfort. "Come in." she said, her tone softer now that you were there. You followed her into the house, your heart pounding. You felt Natasha's presence intensely, but tonight it was different. You didn't want to be just a toy, not when your feelings were so raw and confused.

As they settled in the living room, Natasha reached for you, her fingers trailing along your arm. But you flinched slightly, pulling your arm away. Natasha's eyes narrowed, sensing the hesitation. "What's wrong?" Natasha demanded, her patience already thin. You looked down, biting your lip. "Nothing. It's just..."

"Just what?" Natasha's voice grew sharper, her frustration evident. "What did you and Emma talk about?"

The fact that Natasha already knew about your meeting made you a bit nervous and even more hesitant to reveal the conversation, worried about Natasha's reaction. "It's... it's not important. Really..can we-"

Natasha's eyes darkened, her anger rising. "Don't lie to me. What did you talk about?" You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "It's... it's not something you want to hear!"

Natasha's patience snapped. She moved closer, her presence intimidating. "Tell me. Now." Tears welled up in your eyes. "She told me about your wife!"

Natasha's face hardened, her eyes flashing with anger. "That's none of your business." Your voice trembled. "It is my business if it affects how you treat me..you've been different these past few weeks. Something is..wrong!"

Natasha's jaw tightened, her fists clenching. "You don't understand anything. How dare you talk about her?" Your heart raced, tears streaming down your face. You were afraid of Natasha's reaction, but you knew you had to stand your ground. "Do you think you know me?"

You trembled, tears flowing down your face. "I don't want to be just something to you, N-Natasha. I have... I think... I think I'm falling in love with you and I can’t made this undone!“ The words hung in the air, thick with tension. Natasha's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise with a cold, dismissive look.

"Don't be ridiculous.." Natasha hissed, her voice laced with bitterness. "You don't know what you're talking about." You felt your heart break at her rejection. You turned away, tears streaming down your Face, and whispered, "I'm sorry..I shouldn’t have..“ You left the room.

As the door closed behind you, Natasha's façade crumbled. She sank onto the bed, her head spinning. The fear of losing you was too much, and the realization of her own feelings terrified her. Minutes felt like hours as Natasha wrestled with her emotions. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore. She got up and left the room, finding you sitting alone in the living room, still crying.

"Y/n..." Natasha's voice was softer, vulnerable. "Look at me." You hesitated, fear and hope warring within you. You slowly turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "I... I can't lie to you any longer," Natasha admitted, her voice trembling. "I care about you too. More than I ever wanted to."

Your eyes widened, your breath catching. "You do?" Natasha nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes. And it scares me. I can't lose someone again."

"I'm scared too," you whispered. "I thought... I thought you didn't care."

"I care more than you know," Natasha said, her voice full of raw emotion. In that moment, all the barriers between them crumbled completely. Natasha pulled you into her arms, holding you tight. The vulnerability, the raw emotions were overwhelming, but neither of you pulled away.

She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, whispering against your skin with a shaky voice, "Fuck, I love you too.." Your heart swelled with emotion. You snuggled closer to Natasha, feeling safer and more loved than ever before. Together, they lay in the silence, their hearts beating in sync. For Natasha, the darkness had finally receded, replaced by the light and love she found in your embrace.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 8 - Welcome To The War

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: use of weapons, death, cannon typical violence, bombs/ explosions, military inaccuracies, blood, mention of injuries.

AN: Taking a break from this. Got to work on main project (the next chapter so close to being finished i's haunting my dreams)

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“I still think you’re crazy going after Makarov.” You say crossing your arms. “Why do you want him so bad?”  

“He’s a terrorist.” Price says like that’s supposed to explain everything. 

“The ULF and Al Qatala are terrorists, according to your country.” Price nods and moves back to the table. 

“We’re not concerned about Al Qatala, the ULF want the same goals as us.” 

“Is that why the Americans are working with Farah?” 

“They’re not.” Ghost says. “Not anymore.” 

“I assume you had something to do with the death of The Wolf?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. Price nods.

“I remember it happening. Konni helped sneak The Butcher and Khaled out.” 

“The Butcher? Jamal?” Price asks then looks at Ghost. The energy in the room changes. 

“What?” You ask, you don’t think you’re going to like the answer. 

“We thought he was dead.” Ghost says. Price braces himself on the table. That news seems to have put a wrench in whatever plan they had. At least they know now they know he’s alive before-

“Hold on.” You stand up out the chair.

“He’s going to be at the meeting with Ivan and Makarov. He was supposed to torture Alex. He’s already on his way to the base.”

“Makarov’s already changed his plans.” Price says.

“Yeah but The Butcher hasn’t, he’ll still be heading there. You take the whole building out. That's one hell of a blow to Konni, take out one of their strongest posts as well as Ivan who basically controls that whole region.” You look round at them with wide eyes and hands in the air like you’ve just come up with the best plan in the world. 

“That’s where Makarov was going to launch his attack from, it’s the only place they have on the border.” They’re just looking at each other, not saying a word. You look down at the plans on the table. There’s handwriting on one of the pieces of paper. It grabs your attention and you pull it out. 

It’s a diagram of missiles, they look new though. Konni doesn’t have new missiles, they’re still using cold war stuff. Then you remember what that man said in the room ‘he's planning a nice surprise for the ULF.’ You pull the paper towards you, turning it over. 

“It’s not been translated yet.” Ghost says. You ignore him, you recognise the handwriting it’s Ivan’s for sure. 

“He’s buying missiles off Al Qatala.” You say looking up at them. 

“No. Because then-” Price doesn’t finish his thought, his eyes flicking up to Ghost. 

“He would have American missiles.” Ghost says. 

Fuck.

—

Farah didn’t take it so well that Jamal was still alive. Alex went white as a sheet when he heard about the torture part. Soap seemed perked up looking over the shitty floor plan of the compound you drew for him from memory. 

“If we take this place out we’ll halt them in their tracks. They won’t have the missiles, the building will be gone and Jamal will be dead.” 

“Busy day.” Alex says. 

“How sure are we that Jamal is moving the missiles there, and not to some other place? Especially now you got Alex out.” Farah asks. Gaz turns a laptop around. 

“Spotted on the Russian border a few hours ago.” Gaz says, you lean over to look. It’s pictures of a convoy, big trucks going through the border. 

“We are still waiting for the satellite but it’s the best we have for now.” Price says. 

“Okay, we can be ready to leave within the hour.” 

“No. ULF has to stay here.” Price says, Farah opens her mouth to protest Price raises his hand stopping her. “It’s across the border, you can’t get involved. It’ll just be us.” 

“If it’s true that Jamal is alive, Al Qatala could regroup. This could change the outcome of this war.” Farah says. 

“We’ll get him.” Price says. You raise an eyebrow, he looks so sure. 

“What do you need?” She asks. 

“A car, explosives. We’ll be back before the morning.” Price says. She sighs standing back up and ordering someone around in arabic. Price moves with Ghost and they head out the room. You chase after them pushing past them and stopping in front of Price. 

“I want to come.” You say, he stops raising an eyebrow at you.

“You got stabbed-”

“You got shot.” you interrupt him

“-Less than 48 hours ago.” He finishes.

“I know my way around that compound. I can get you in and out without being spotted.” You say holding your ground.

“Just tell us where to go and we'll figure it out.” Gaz says, you shoot an angry look at him.

“I know that place like the back of my hand. I can get you through anywhere you need to go. I know where everything is. I know how to disable their systems, where all the gear is stored, where to avoid.” You feel like you’re pleading with him. They need you, there’s no way you’re going to sit around and not be involved with this. Besides you owe Caleb. 

“Can you shoot?” Price asks. You smile and nod. 

“Go with Soap, Farah has gear lying around he’ll help you with what you need.” He sighs, you look at Ghost and Gaz. You have no idea what Ghost is thinking, not with his mask. Gaz just has an eyebrow raised watching you.

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.” You say and rush past him to join Soap.

“You look cute when you get flustered.” Soap says his hand landing on the top of your back and leading you out the building. 

“Shut up.” You say elbowing him maybe a little too hard, hanging your head feeling heat rush to your cheeks. 

…

The gear you found was a little too big for you, the weapons in your hands feels foreign. You have shot a gun before, well, pistols. You don’t have time to worry about it though, as soon as you were finished with Soap you all piled into what looked like an old army 4X4. 

The drive took over 2 hours. Price parked the truck behind a different tree line and you all walked in silence to the back of the compound. There is only one way in the compound officially, but there’s a basement back from the cold war era. 

“It’s used for storage, most people think it’s sealed off but I’ve used it before, when things needed sneaking out without the rest of the base knowing.” You explain as you sit in the tree line with them watching the base. You can’t tell if there are more or less people around. Its evening and the sun is almost set, Price said the darkness will give them the cover you need. 

As soon as outdoor light starts coming on you move. They're quieter than you, more sure on their feet quick and silent as you cross the open grass to make it to the building. You silently point them over to what looks like a drain cover about a hundred meters from the base. 

They pull it off to reveal an iron ladder built into the wall itself. Ghost goes down first, then Soap, you and Gaz follow after leaving Price to go last. You walk down the tight hall which you were told once used to be part of an old storm drain system. Eventually it leads out into the main room. Crates and boxes are piled everywhere, some as old as the cold war. 

“That door leads into the kitchens. It’ll be closed by now. It's the best way in.” You say pointing at the door up some steps. 

If you thought Caleb was going to help you, you would have taken this route to get Alex out, maybe then he wouldn’t have died. All the guards you killed would have been alive.

“Gaz, Soap, start setting up the charges, we’ll clear the building.” Price says. They nod and split off in a different direction.

“Ghost take point.” Price says, Ghost pushes past you. You assume that means he’s supposed to lead. Good, you’re still not sure how comfortable you are with killing in cold blood. Most of the people working here are innocent, at least they’re just working here for a better life for their families, children. They’re not all in as deep as you or Ivan.

You make it into the kitchen and as suspected it's deserted at this time of day. It doesn’t feel right though, it’s almost too quiet. There’s movement, everyone's head snaps in that direction. A woman walks round the corner in a world of her own. Lights flick on when she looks up she freezes dropping whatever was in her hands.

Price and Ghost start shouting which just seems to confuse her even more as she slowly raises her hands.

“Where is everyone?” You ask in Russian. Her head snaps to you, her mouth opens but words don’t come out. You don’t have time for this. “We won’t hurt you, just tell us what’s going on.” 

“When Makarov arrived there was a lot of shouting. I don't know what happened. They didn’t stay long before he left.” You can see tears coming down her face. 

“What’s she saying?” Price asks. You almost want to shush him.

“Where were they going? Was The Butcher with them?” You ask.

“I don’t know. I only saw Makarov. They left a few hours ago.” She says with a sob. 

“Okay, where is everyone? Is Ivan here?” 

“He sent everyone home. Ivan is upstairs.” 

“Makarov was here but he left a few hours ago. Ivan is upstairs.” You explain to Price. He nods at Ghost who drops his weapon and goes over to the woman. You’re not sure what's happening, you just hope they don’t hurt her, you look round the rest of the room. You hear zip ties looking back over to see Ghost pushing her into a store room.

“Let’s go.” Price says. You follow them as they clear the rooms. Even the ‘prison’ wing is empty. Before you know it you’re heading up the stairs. The only people being left alive are the guards on the gate entrance. You wonder why they left the woman in the kitchen, maybe she can get away before she’s buried in the building when it goes down.

It’s dark upstairs, the only light coming from the conference room at the end. You’re moving slow, your heart hammering in your chest. You watch as Ghost and price check the rooms almost in sync before moving on. You’re at the back this time. That you don’t mind. 

Suddenly you hear movement behind you, before you have chance to react an arm locks around your neck. A yelp leaves your mouth loud enough to signal Price and Ghost who turn around. You feel the barrel of a gun pressing against your temple. Your hands fly up to his arm to try and pull it off but he pulls you backwards into a room.

His arm is around your neck squeezing just enough that you can’t get a breath of air. He pulls your body up, you feel a stabbing sensation in your side. You hope you haven't torn stiches. Weapons are trained on you both.

“Fuck me! 141 you’re taking the piss right?” He says in Russian. It's Ivan.

“Makarov’s looking for you.” He says to them in English. 

“Good, we happen to be looking for him too.” Price responds. He takes a step closer and Ivan tightens his grip. You drop one of your hands, you have a knife on your hip. You don’t know if John can tell where your hand is going, you just hope he doesn’t give you away. 

“How much are they paying you huh? Fucking traitorous bitch.” He spits in your ear, your fingers brush over the hilt of the knife. His grip is cutting off your oxygen, not that you could breathe right not anyway. 

“Where’s Makarov?” Price asks.

“Ha! Like I would tell you!” He shouts, jolting you. You use it as an opportunity to pull the knife up over the safety clip. You shift your hand ever so slightly so you can hold it more secure. 

“I thought you didn’t like him? What did Jamal steal your promotion?” You say through gasps of air. 

“At least I know where my loyalties lie.” He growls in your ear. You smile, that pissed him off. Before you can think too much about it you twist your wrist driving the knife into his thigh. 

His arms let you go immediately, you throw your body forward. Shots are fired, you can smell blood and gunpowder in the air. Someone grabs your vest pulling you up and out the way. You regain your balance standing up, Ghost holds the top of your arms as Price rushes into the room. 

"You good?" He asks, you nod.

You hear moaning. Holy shit he’s not dead. You turn to see Price hauling him to his feet, throwing him into a chair. Ghost pushes past you into the room. You follow him slowly watching as Ivan holds his hand on his shoulder. 

“Where are they?” Price asks again. You go over to the computer. He hasn’t changed his login and before you know it you’re in. You’re only half listening to Price and Ghost trying to get info out of him. There's the sound of skin hitting skin, the sound of his groans. 

He won’t talk. That’s not your job though. Your job is to find out what you can from the computer, maybe that will tell you where Jamal and Makarov are. You see a mail from a burner address, you recognise the program, it’s the one they use for secure communications. 

“They’re heading to Volgograd.” You say reading the email. 

“What's there?” You hear Ghost ask, you turn to see if they’re talking to you. 

“I don’t know.” You say going back to the email. 

“Charges are set Cap.” You hear Soap say over the radio. Now you don’t have long, you need to leave. A gunshot makes you jump. You turn to catch the end of Ivan’s body falling to the floor. You swallow hard looking back at the computer and opening a new program you don’t recognise.  

“Oh shit!” You say watching the countdown tick away. “Price!” They both come over and you stand up so they can see. 

“This is the missile program.” You explain, there’s markings on the map and a countdown. 15 minutes. 

“Do you recognise any of the targets?” Ghost asks. You reach over clicking on the map, it zooms in and pops up coordinates. You have no idea what to do with that. The map it’s using is old and black and white, you’re trying to make out points of interest. 

“That’s where they’re being fired from.” You say pointing at the screen. “There being fired from within Urzikstan.” 

“So what came over the border?” Ghost asks.

“Those missiles didn’t look long range, how far is their first target?” You zoom out, moving over to the first target. You’re squinting at the map, it’s almost like there's a straight line of targets across the land. 

“80 kilometers.” “He’s making a new border.” Ghost says moving away from the computer. 

“We need to leave.” Price says. 

“Wait, some of these targets have innocent people living in them.” You say finally recognising some of the locations. Price sighs standing back up.

“Nothing we can do.” He says walking away. 

“We can stop it!” You shout, turning back to type on the computer. He grabs your shoulder, turning you away.

“We can’t. Then Makarov will know we’re onto him. We can't let him know, as long as he is using this we have an advantage over him.” He’s gripping your shoulders. You let out a frustrated huff. 

“Innocent people will die.” You say. He lets go of your shoulders and walks over to the door. 

“Innocent people always die. Welcome to the war.” He says and walks out the room. You look over at Ghost, you still don’t know what he’s thinking, he waits a few seconds watching you then leaves the room. 

You look back at the computer, there’s only 5 minutes left on the countdown. You didn’t even know how to stop it really, you were just hoping you could figure it out. You can hear Price talking in your ear, but you’re not really listening. You look over at Ivan’s body on the floor. You walk over and kick his arm with your foot.

There’s blood pooling out his head. Maybe it would have been more satisfying if you had killed him, maybe not. You’ll never know, he’s dead now. 

“Come on! Let's go.” Ghost shouts at you from the doorway. You nod following him out taking one last look at the computer, only 3 minutes left. 

…

You leave the building out the front gate, catching up with Soap and Gaz on the way. It’s bitter sweet. Ivan’s dead the base will be destroyed but now you have no idea what has been coming over the border. Makarov and Jamal got away and managed to get their missiles off.

“What do we do now?” You ask as you make your way back to the car. No one says anything. Maybe you’re not allowed answers anymore. You look over at Soap walking next to you, he smiles. The sound of the charges going off back at the base rumbles through the ground. You hope that woman in the kitchen got out, you doubt it though. 

Suddenly everyone stops, you almost bump into the back of Ghost. You look past him you can see the car a few meters ahead of you. 

“What?” Gaz asks. 

“Shh!” Price snaps. You feel a pit form in your stomach. You and Soap look around, it's dark out you look up, the moon is bright in the sky. You don’t hear anything at first, then Price takes another step forward. You’re trying really hard to listen, then you hear a faint beeping. You look up at Soap, he’s frowning, he takes a step opening his mouth when the car explodes.

next

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[blueblossomrose]

I love sebek so much so I was wondering what type of parents Sebek would be. Do you think he would be a little strict compared to his parents that love to spoiled their children?

I love Sebek so much too 😭 I actually love all my boys 📸

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, Sebek and his children, fem!afab!mc, fluffy.

Art not mine.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Sebek tries to be so strict, but he just can't do it.

It's not like he can't scold his kids. He scolds them a fair share every day in fact, but not as much as he told himself he would.

During his adolescence he had gotten it into his head that if he ever had children, he would be a strict father who would teach his children total discipline, just like his grandpa.

Spoiler: he's nothing like Baul.

When MC got pregnant, he was absolutely on guard. Even with the baby in her belly, you could see in his eyes when he lightly caressed her belly, how soft he truly turns.

And when Ivan was born, it proved itself.

Sebek gives gifts to his children just as his father did (still does, no matter how much Sebek complains). He doesn't give the same lavish amount of gifts that Mr. Zigvolt did, but he's still the kind of dad who will buy something if his kid says he really likes it. He still tries to hide it by saying that he is only giving this because Ivan behaved well.

Even if he is the kind of father who wakes his children up early, demands good nutrition from them, and other things you imagine Sebek would do, he still has a much lighter hand than Baul.

What MC doesn't know is whether she finds it offensive (because she didn't get this 'princess treatment' until they were at least start dating) or really, really cute.

If you find him slightly more docile with Ivan, with Amelia it is even more apparent. Sebek can't even raise his voice to her.

He can scold Ivan and ground him, but Amelia? He doesn't even know why it's so hard. Maybe it's her incredibly well-executed puppy dog eyes.

Yet, I'm not going to say that Sebek is incapable of teaching his children discipline. No, not that.

He not the extreme soldier in ALL attitude like his grandfather was, but he is overall a good educator and still acts like what he is, a soldier. Specifically General Zigvolt, as he is known in the palace.

Both Ivan and Amelia are generally well-disciplined. Sebek's little pampering never really interfered with that.

Sebek keeps up a habit of telling stories about his time at Night Raven College, always highlighting his devotion to Malleus and how hard he worked to become worthy of his position. Ivan and Amelia love these stories, but they also enjoy hearing MC's versions, who always adds funny details that Sebek would rather "forget."

Sebek is also very protective of his family. He will never allow anyone to speak ill of his wife or children. He immediately transforms into the loyal and passionate knight he always dreamed of being.

Ivan, being the oldest, has that streak he inherited from his mother, genuinely enjoying teasing his father and his serious demeanor. Even though this earns him a few yelling matches from Sebek, they genuinely get along well as father and son, especially during training.

Amelia, on the other hand, is sweeter and more sensitive, which makes Sebek completely melt. He often calls her "my little lady" and treats her like a true princess. She knows how to take advantage of her own personality, using it to ambush both her brother and father during training.

In the end, Sebek is a doting father who balances his strict personality with an underlying kindness and unconditional love for his family. He may not be as extreme as he imagined he would be, but according to MC and even Ivan and Amelia, he is exactly the perfect father for his children.

[crustyfloor]

I like the aspect of Mizi and Sua's dynamic that delves a lot into miscommunication and some parts of jealousy, because Sua's also a bit of a baby about communicating her feelings, Mizi almost fully relies on her to let her know because she's indifferent to her environment, socially unaware and doesn't seem to notice why Sua's upset, and that's because Sua's gripes are entirely a product of her own jealousy, insecurity, and irritation/ or rather exasperation at Mizi not being able to figure it out on her own, even though she's not not meeting her halfway. She doesn't want Mizi to think the worst of her. Even though she confides in Mizi, that's why I don't think she tells Mizi about those feelings as openly, but in general, she doesn't want to ruin that cloud of obliviousness with anything. But alas, Sua can get very petty. Mizi's still the meanie for allowing Till to play with them, not realizing how he looks at her like Sua does, and she's still a dummy for being so dense, even though she's earnestly trying to see what Sua's so upset about...

Sua's common instances of jealousy come from her possessive and obsessive instinct, and importantly, her mistrust of the boys, mostly stemming from how she doesn't want to lose Mizi to anything- at heart, she wants Mizi to be with just her to ensure that Mizi is unchanged and always safe. They can change her if she's influenced by them too much, but Mizi is all too trusting and too kind, especially of Ivan and Till, who are kind to her

I also think Sua doesn't communicate because she's sensitive and can't put it into words, she also can't because she fears it blowing up in her face if she appears unreasonable or something of the sort, she fears feeling hurt or feeling like something will wedge a noticeable gap between her and Mizi that she can't control, her protectiveness over Mizi's dreams and naivety keeps their emotional vulnerability limited from being fully open to each other already, but conflict, albeit inevitable because Sua is delicate, it would hurt her. (in that sense, it's strangely counterintuitive of her. but I can also see it as her being immature, sometimes it just can't be helped ) so she's practically the embodiment of clenching her fist from behind a tree where you can't see her with tears in her eyes because she wants to explode you with her mind, but is too non-confrontational/ stonewalling

[asteriass]

Till & smoke bomb parallels ++ Ivan & cameras flowers parallels!!

Based on this tweet by xivering on twitter pointing out the the similaries

[Because I think there are legitimate parallels that can be drawn from this. I don’t think it’s a pure coincidence (ESPECIALLY not in Till’s case which is a literal exact one to one). I’ll explain!!]

Part 1: Till and the grenade

The grenade was a smoke grenade. It acted as a barrier - it produced a smoke screen, allowing Mizi to trick the Alien and act sneakily (To get in)

The grenade shares eyes with Till, Till was also similarly anxious, sweating as his face was gently held in Mizi’s hands, and staring back at her

And then Mizi pulled the trigger on the grenade, forcing a smoke screen that tricks the Alien and conceals what’s actually going on from view. Same with Till! Till’s hand going limp is perhaps a narrative smoke screen!! To trick the aliens, to conceal whats actually going on between them

AFTERALL, we see her tell him something, but we don’t know what. She holds him gently and is perhaps forcing him to action, even a small one, to trick the audience. So that his faintly beating heartbeat goes unnoticed under their increasingly loud cheers.

The louder they’ll cheer in excitement about the finale, the more it shows how much increasingly preoccupied in their bliss they are to properly notice the trickery happening right under their noses (Just like Mizi’s earlier trick)

Part 2: Ivan & the Anakt Garden flowers

The concept of character eyes being similar to alien eyes which then together serve a greater narrative parallel extends to Ivan too. Thus further strengthening the notion that it means SOMETHING!

Ivan was always observing others closely (in particular Till), just like the flowers observe the Anakt children.

[I remember the first time me and my friend were talking about the flowers possibly being for observation we talked about in it alongside Ivan’s eyes, & also his tendency to observe and stare lol, because the flowers’ eyes specifically drawn to be very similar to Ivan’s when they are recording. (And then 2 weeks later we were proven right hahahhaha ahem…)]

(Anyway) And yet from what we know of the information the flowers have gathered on the children, a lot of it is pretty surface level, it's never able to observe or record things like a person's true mindset. It only sees what the children are outwardly showcasing. It will never understand what goes on deep within these children’s minds, their true thoughts and opinions. Just like Ivan was never able to truly observe and gather his impact on Till and what he truly viewed Ivan as in his mind. Ivan thought to Till he wouldn’t matter.

He closely observed Till, but he was never able to fully gather what goes in Till’s mind. He wasnt able to gather Till’s true mindset, his views, his opinions (on Ivan). Till outwardly showcases apprehension at times, so it was easy for Ivan to gather and observe that, but he wasn’t able to see that Till did internally consider eachother “close”, that Ivan will have an impact on him.

And just as the flower was crushed while serving its duty, having observed what it did but never beyond it Ivan too was "crushed" while “”serving his duty”” (saving till), but he never got to observe how much of an effect his death would actually have on Till.

And so… i truly do think that making these eyes the same exact colors were purposefull. And thus supports the notion that Mizi (& Till) are “””tricking””” the aliens (and thus the viewer) too. That they’ve purposely put up a “smoke screen”….

[mewkhail]

I love your writing! Could you make some hcs for the alien stage cast? You know the official Valentine’s Day artwork with them yeah? I'd love to see how each of them might react to YN confessing their love!

THANK YOU!!!! And yeah, I can DEFINITELY do that!!

Alien Stage cast x Reader — Valentine's Day confessions !!

All of the scenarios are kinda in the same context; you telling them you wanted to talk to them in private and then confessing

,, Mizi, I think I really like you... would you be... my Valentine? Maybe? ‘‘

— "Huh? Your... Valentine...?"

I feel like she would be confused at first, mostly because she wasn't really expecting that, but definitely not an unwelcome surprise

She probably thought that you just wanted to hang out when you asked to "talk in private," or at least thought that was something else

— "I.... yes! I'd love to be your Valentine, Y/N! Oh my gosh, I'm so happy!! I- I like you too!"

After the initial confusion and shock, immediately rushed to hug you, giggling as she smiled

Probably also gives you a lot of cheek kisses from how happy she is

After that, she WILL be spending the rest of the day with you

,, Till... would you like to be my Valentine!? I really like you, please be my Valentine! ‘‘

— "What...? Your Valentine? Me-? I—"

The man was too stunned to speak(/ref)

He was NOT seeing that one coming, REALLY. And now, he does NOT know what to do at all

Probably froze for the longest 5 seconds of your life, thinking about what to say until you started looking worried

— "I mean... yeah- sure... I'll be your-.. your Valentine-"

— 'And I like you too, stupid Y/N...'

Tsundere type shit, I fear...

Tries to play it cool, but also tries to reassure you that the feelings are mutual

After that, he doesn't really know what to say or do until something inside him tells him that he probably is looking stupid just standing there and grabs your hand and goes somewhere else with you

Spend most of the day with you after that, but at some parts just excused himself and went to the restroom to try to compose himself because he is PANICKING

,, Would you like to be my Valentine, Ivan...? I realy like you- ‘‘

I feel that he wouldn't respond right away, he just stares at you, expression between confused, surprised and nervous

As charming as he can be, he's not prepared for a scenario like this. He doesn't know what to do at all

Especially since he was already planning to confess to you later that day, so he's not sure how to react.

— "Your Valentine, you say? Yes, I'll be- I'd love to be your Valentine, Y/N. I'm happy you asked, I was planning to ask you the same thing..."

Tries to look calm, but you can see the blush on his face and how his voice goes quiter a bit as he mentions how he was going to ask you to be his Valentine

Though he doesn't know what to say or how to act, you can tell he's really happy. You can see it in his eyes

After that, he would ask you if you want to go somewhere, like a mini date somewhere

,, Please, be my Valentine, Sua!! I like you a lot! ‘‘

— "Oh...! Your... Valentine?"

Kinda calm on the outside, completely panicking and crying on the inside

It took a bit for her to get the words out of her mouth without feeling like she was going to cry, but she's actually extremely happy

— "I... I'd love to be your Valentine, Y/N... I like you too"

— 'I like you a lot, actually...'

You swore you saw her eyes getting glassy as she spoke...

After replying, immediately went to hug you, holding onto you tightly as if you would dissappear if she let go

— "Thank you, Y/N... I love you."

,, Hyuna... I like you. Please be my Valentine!! ‘‘

Her reaction was just like the drawing, really

A gasp left her mouth as if you just told her the most shocking thing in the whole world... which to be fair, you just did... kinda-

— "YOUR VALENTINE-!? I mean- yeah! Sure-! I'd LOVE to be your Valentine!"

— 'And I love you too...'

Warmly accepts your confession, though you can tell she's a littlee nervous here and there

For the rest of the day, drags you around with her everywhere, probably also showing you off as her new partner

,, Would you be my Valentine, Luka? ‘‘

— "...huh?"

Genuinely surprised. Though he likes you, he doesn't really know why you would like him back.

He probably looks like he wanted to reject you, from the way he was just... staring at you, though he quickly composed himself, dw!!

— "You want me to be your Valentine? Yeah... I'd love to be your Valentine, Y/N..."

Genuinely doesn't really know how to reply, but just said what felt "right"

After that he probably just asked "is that how you're supposed to say it?"

After that awkward moment, you two just stayed where you were. Probably sat on the ground against the wall and just enjoyed each other's company

Annnnd done!! This was actually pretty fun to write :3 aghhh I love it I hope anon and everyone else does too

[cylove]

cracks knuckles i’m rusty but i wanna talk about BOFT laxus. there’s more below the small snip-bit but WARNING long and ramble-y

all freed says here is “the game is over” and to me he’s more so trying to indirectly ask laxus “what’s our next move?” bc as he said with no hostages makarov has nothing being held over him

but then laxus freaks out? i know it’s a high tension moment and you’re trying to take over your grandpas guild but there is no need to be doing all that. alsooo u know this isn’t normal for him because the glare alone makes freed surprised and then he lit-chralllyyyy stands in shock that laxus tried to hit him. you can interpret it as laxus was overcome with emotions and letting it out violently. or simply trying to threaten freed. but i think what’s important is that he doesn’t hit him, whether consciously or unconsciously he knows it’s not right to hit one of his closest friends

i also want to point out that laxus tries to shove freed away. all of sudden laxus assumes “he doesn’t want to follow him anymore”? which is a complete non sequitur because no where did freed imply he wasn’t going to follow along anymore, that was all laxus

it’s crazy how self destructive he’s being right now. trying to say his fairy tail doesn’t need him (or “i don’t need you” if you want to have fun) even tho the raijinshuu has been a thing for at least like 5 years. it’s unknown what exactly they’ve all been thru together, it’s obviously post scar but who knows if they were there when ivan was expelled. what matters is that the raijinshuu most likely have seen very ugly sides of laxus, but its this moment that shocks freed

and before moving on i want to mention that even here laxus is showing why the raijinshuu follow him

his word choice is interesting. “by the likes of erza”? “when did you get so weak”? he truly placed trust in evergreen, he saw her as powerful, that’s why she’s on his side. he knows erza too, being an s class mage but he still believed evergreen had what it takes to defeat her. mashima has made ever really.. weak. she used to be able to push around elfman no sweat with a flap of her fan and she could honestly utilize her explosive power better, but mashima wants to keep playing and keep her to 2 spells WHATEVER. next part

before the crash out of x784, i just wanted to say how patient freed is w laxus bc i think its incredible how he's still willing to smile at him after earlier that day laxus flung a lightning bolt at him. i think he really is someone who stabilizes laxus and extends kindness to him when not many others will. in freeds flashback in his fight w mira you can see makarov entrusts laxus to freed to keep him out of trouble after some time. its been mentioned freed first disliked laxus just like many other guild members, so it means a lot to me that he was able to see through his rough exterior and grow closer from that point onward

anyways onto THE CRASH OUT OF THE CENTURY

he absolutely lost it, he wanted to see bodies on the ground, but deep down in his heart that isn’t his true desire. and he absolutely despises that fact. he is going THROUGH IT. its about fairy law, its not about taking over the guild, it was his deep seated insecurities really surfacing in this moment and honestly its kinda sad. at that moment he was expressing how much he wanted to exist outside of his grandfather

and the thing is everyone looks concerned. like its a mixture of "what is he going to do next?" and "wow this is a lot" bc laxus is pouring his heart out, which must look strange to the guild members who never got to know him outside of his cruel demeanor. but i think its especially sad when i look at freed bc he seems... forlorn? he must see that laxus is hurting inside but the fact he is refusing help and isnt listening to reason leaves him disappointed yet saddened

and after natsu defeats him, you have to imagine freed, despite being beaten up himself, supported laxus right? he had to carry him and patch him up despite everything? it must have been such a strange and solemn moment for the both of them because laxus mustve come to the realization that he was in the wrong. that he was disillusioned with the idea of power that he lost his way. it very much reads like that when he speaks to makarov with how calm he is, as though he has already reflected upon his actions

i think when we see laxus in his debut arc, he was already too power obsessed to see any of the reasons why the raijinshuu stuck with him. its only at the end of the arc we get a glimpse of the laxus they saw. he joked around with them, even as he was getting expelled. he wanted to be well in his absence and he wanted them to stay so they could grow, perhaps without his destructive self in the way. laxus wasnt always horrible, their departure showed that. if that really was the case, bickslow, evergreen and freed wouldnt act like that and they wouldnt want to follow him. sure perhaps the raijinshuu formed due to the common interest of strength, but in the end they grew to be true friends. i jusssttt wish that mashima developed that more, i dont nearly get to see them interact in a prolonged moment i feel, but i know im never getting that now

this is the end. this post kind of meanders around the BOFT arc, and my thoughts arent final, i always like hearing different perspectives because i interpret things a little off sometimes, but i really like thinking about laxus, the raijinshuu, and the dynamics they share together

[ai-the-broccoli]

... Is Till's Part in "Cure" about Ivan?

now I'm really not sure about R2 in this regard (I've seen theories that it may be more about Ivan than it appears but I really haven't made up my mind on whether I agree or disagree), but what I do personally think is that Till's portion of "Cure" in R6 genuinely makes significantly more sense to me, lyrically, if it is -- at least partly -- about Ivan (consciously or subconsciously), than if it is 100% about Mizi and only Mizi from start to end, even though the MV only shows him thinking about Mizi as he sings the part.

let me explain:

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers Allow me, to the ends of your feet Dissolve me in your gaze I don't want to let you go Please, leave me scars Please, hurt me so that Not a single drop of me remains Let me drown in you

... idk, I feel like if this is indeed entirely about Mizi, Till must have made up a lot about their relationship in his mind by that point because it sounds kind of strange to me otherwise. Mainly because while they are sort of friends and have had friendly interactions, it seems that they are not especially close (based on Mizi's words about Till in the artbook), and what Till carries for her is a somewhat distant & idolizing crush sort of thing, which... isn't the sort of energy the lyrics gives?

Like. maybe this is just me, but I can view this portion two ways:

The singer is asking "you", the person being sang about, to hurt him, because he views "you" as someone who would indeed hurt them (e.g. maybe they have hurt him/harmed him/fought with him before; maybe they have a toxic or tumultuous relationship) and/or someone who is in a position where they have a reason/need to hurt him (e.g. going against each other on the Alien Stage); and/or,

The singer is asking "you", the person being sang about, to hurt him, because of his own self-loathing and depressive feelings -- but in this case this just. idk. to me at least, it sounds more like something you are more likely to sing about, like. someone you have been very close to at one point. e.g. a love interest or w/e, who has been in a romantic relationship or situationship or something in an ambiguous relationship with you -- or a closer friend, frenemy or someone like that, that you have complicated or untold feelings about. unless your idolized crush is someone you view as a person who would (hypothetically) hurt you, in which case it falls under 1... except Till's perception of Mizi just kinda doesn't feel that way to me

which. hmmm. idk because like Till's image of Mizi is someone kind, sweet, gentle, soft, comforting and angelic (even with the R5 stuff, we still see this in the way she's like in Till's eyes in Cure's MV), and she's an idol-like figure to him in that sense (and they are not... so 'close' that it feels like he would very naturally sing to her for her to hurt him out of self-flaggellation reasons), it has always been slightly jarring to me that he would sing about her like this, even back when I was sure he was singing about Mizi.

But if you interpret it as being about, or partly about, Ivan instead, then it feels more natural to me; they have a closer relationship, Ivan has hurt him/fought with him and stuff multiple times, and right now they are going against each other on the Alien Stage where the loser among them will be killed.

secondly:

Until these falling stars Are buried in the blur of time On your icy lips Read my soul Yes, my soul, oh, oh

If this is about Mizi: I guess it could be?? if "falling stars" are entirely metaphorical and/or refers to the rain actually... except, even in this case, I feel like it's very possible to interpret it as him subconsciously thinking of such a symbol / such imagery because of Ivan-related reasons.

If this is about Ivan: ...sorry what, "falling stars"? You mean like. a meteor shower?? Okay no yeah, that is literally a major memory he has with Ivan, not with Mizi. And this particular phrasing, "Until these falling stars / Are buried in the blur of time" does further suggest that this is very possibly about a memory that haunts him to this day. which. points to the meteor shower scene more than anything... yeah I honestly feel like this line ties back to Ivan no matter how I think about it.

in any case this is honestly just my opinion and I don't know if I'm right but. just a thought. I think Till might be singing a bit more about Ivan in "Cure" than it seems from a glance at the MV, even if he doesn't realize/acknowledge it himself