#he fostered so many new incredible friendships

[bandizoi]

Bandit is 10 years old today! Happy birthday, Grandpa.

[eternaltae7]

Hani’s Relationship with Namjoon

Fox of BTS | BTS 8th Member

Hani’s relationship with Namjoon, also known as RM, was a unique blend of deep friendship, mutual respect, and a shared passion for their craft. From the very beginning, when Hani joined BTS as the eighth member, Namjoon took on a protective and nurturing role in her life, helping her navigate the complexities of being an idol in the intense K-pop industry.

The Mentor and the Protégé

Namjoon was often seen as the leader of BTS, and he embraced that role with a sense of responsibility that extended to Hani. He became a mentor to her, guiding her through her training and helping her hone her skills as a vocalist and performer. Namjoon admired Hani’s talent and unique background, often encouraging her to incorporate her Irish heritage into her performances and songwriting.

They spent countless hours together in the studio, where Hani would observe Namjoon as he crafted lyrics and melodies. He would often invite her to contribute her ideas, fostering her creativity and confidence. “Your perspective is so refreshing,” he would say, encouraging her to share her thoughts. This collaborative dynamic allowed Hani to grow as an artist, and their sessions often turned into brainstorming marathons filled with laughter and inspiration.

A Safe Space

Outside of their musical endeavors, Hani found solace in her friendship with Namjoon. He was someone she could confide in, share her fears and aspirations, and seek advice. Namjoon had an innate ability to listen and offer wisdom without judgment. Whenever Hani felt overwhelmed by the pressures of fame, he would remind her to stay grounded and true to herself.

One late night, as they worked on a new song, Hani expressed her anxiety about being in the spotlight and how it sometimes felt suffocating. Namjoon paused, looking at her with understanding eyes. “It’s okay to feel that way, Hani. Just remember, you’re not alone. We’re all in this together. You bring something special to our group, and I want you to embrace that.”

Shared Moments

Their bond deepened through shared experiences, both on and off the stage. Namjoon had a knack for finding quiet moments amidst the chaos of their schedules, often suggesting spontaneous outings or late-night talks. Whether it was exploring new cafes in Seoul or simply sitting on the roof of the dorm, stargazing and sharing their dreams, these moments strengthened their connection.

During a particularly hectic promotional period, Namjoon surprised Hani with a small picnic on the rooftop. He brought her favorite snacks and set up a cozy space with blankets. “I thought we could take a break and just relax for a bit,” he said with a smile. They spent hours talking about everything—from their childhoods to their hopes for the future. It was a reminder that even in their busy lives, it was essential to find time for each other.

Supportive Friend

Namjoon was also incredibly supportive of Hani’s personal life, always encouraging her to follow her heart. When rumors about her and Wonwoo began to circulate, Namjoon was one of the first to notice. Instead of jumping to conclusions, he approached Hani with a supportive attitude. “If you like him, that’s great. Just be sure you’re ready for whatever comes next,” he said thoughtfully.

Their relationship was characterized by respect and understanding, and it became clear that Namjoon genuinely cared for Hani’s well-being. He was always there to celebrate her victories, whether it was a successful performance or a song she wrote that resonated with fans. When Hani wrote her first solo track, she shared it with him before anyone else. Namjoon listened intently, and when it ended, he hugged her tightly. “You’re going to touch so many hearts with this,” he told her.

A Special Bond

As time passed, Hani and Namjoon developed an unbreakable bond, a friendship that felt like family. They were there for each other during tough times, celebrating each other’s successes and navigating the challenges of being idols together. Hani often said that Namjoon felt like an older brother to her, guiding her with his wisdom and protecting her with his unwavering support.

Their friendship was evident to fans, who often highlighted the special chemistry between them. Whether it was through playful banter during interviews or heartfelt moments shared on stage, Hani and Namjoon’s relationship was one of warmth and authenticity.

Ultimately, Hani and Namjoon’s connection was a testament to the power of friendship in the entertainment industry. It showed that amidst the glamour and chaos, true bonds could form, providing strength and comfort as they journeyed through their lives as artists.

[fanfic-inator795]

I've talked a lot on here about my favorite characters, but what about some of my LEAST favorite characters?

Honestly, I don't have too many characters that I just hate with a burning passion or anything like that... but there are def characters that truly get under my skin. So let's have some fun and rant for a bit, shall we? Starting with least hated to most:

Sadie Miller (Steven Universe): Gonna be honest, a big reason why I dislike this character is because of her voice. No disrespect to Kate Micucci, but MAN her voice is just so grating to me personally (tbf, I feel the same way about Greg Cipes). As for the character herself, she's just incredibly whiny and annoying imo. I couldn't really relate to her frustrations with her mother, and that whole mess with her and Lars was just... yeah. Still can't really overlook the whole Stranded Island incident. Say what you will about how terrible Lars can be, but at least Lars can be funny and interesting sometimes. I just don't care for Sadie at all.

Mo Morrison (Lightyear): Laying out my biases here, I really don't like Lightyear in general, it's a very frustrating and agitating film to me personally, I could honestly rant about that movie for hours. But beyond the story/plot issues, Mo is just a very annoying character to me. They try SO hard to push him to be the comedy relief, and it just does not work. Then, when they try to push him as the team screw-up, they push too hard and just make him frustrating to watch since he literally can't do anything right and doesn't get a win until the payoff with the stupid spacesuit pen. Literally every scene with him just ends up making me go "goddamn it, Mo, why are you even here??"

Mr. Herriman (Foster's Home): As a kid who was a big fan of Frankie growing up, it shouldn't be surprising just how much I hate this rabbit. I think what really gets me is how callous and unfair he can be, with stuff like "Imposters Home for uh Make-em-up Pals", "Crime After Crime" and "Setting a President" showing him at his absolute worst. An all-around VERY frustrating and unsympathetic character to me, worse so than Bloo or any of the show's actual villains. Honestly, it makes me sad that we don't get to see more of his softer side - i.e. the life-long friendship he has with Madame Foster/the stuff that makes Madame Foster love him - as that easily could have saved his character. But for the most part, he just comes off as a huge jerk.

Stickler (The Cuphead Show): Similarly to Herriman, I think I just get incredibly annoyed with characters who put rules and procedure above everything else. What makes Stickler worse though is the voice they gave him, as while it's kinda funny in his first couple appearances, by season 3 I'm cringing just as much as Devil does whenever he pops up. They also amp up his jerkiness and pushiness in the later episodes - and while I get WHY they need to, given how distracted Devil gets, it's still a tad annoying imo.

Dr. Owen Hunt (Grey's Anatomy): Literally my least favorite character EVER. This guy... he really is just the WORST. And yes, I know there are in-universe reasons for how he acts, but when he continues being a shitty person to his wives and others, I stop caring about those reasons. He's a huge hypocrite on most things, has a 'my way is always right'/'My way or the highway' mentality, and he's just such a baby whenever he doesn't get his way or when he has to face consequences. YES, I KNOW, on Grey's pretty much everyone is a shitty person in some way because it's a dramatic medical soap opera and they need drama, but Owen really does just get under my skin the most with how stubborn and 'holier than thou' he acts a lot of the time.

...That being said, if any of my followers actually like these characters, no disrespect to you. In fact, I'd love to know WHY you like these characters, as perhaps I can get a new perspective on them.

[unohanabbygirl]

A what if where Luke still does not have his memories, only that he is with a family that does love him and has the chance to give him a good life, the only thing Luke knows about the Tully / Lanisters is that his family placed an order on them restriction because they seem to have a strange obsession with Luke. How would they take the fact that Luke doesn't remember them and doesn't seem interested in meeting them? They can't use their contacts to have Luke because the other family has contacts, not having as many problems as in FNM Luke doesn't seem impressed with Aemond, the one who has had the most luck getting close to Luke is Jace, he's definitely the type of luke but his intensity ruined it. The fact that Luke rejects one and another relative of the boy he has just rejected comes to try it with him begins to amuse him. Little by little the Tully/Lannisters are achieving their mission, Luke begins to show interest in them. I imagine Luke thinking about the meme of it doesn't matter with whom but they want me in their family.

The potential this AU has, omg.

Little Luke being adopted by a well known couple with ties to multiple great houses who’ve chosen to adopt rather than having biological children. One day they’re touring a center for foster children in after school care and spot Luke in one of the few playrooms and instantly know that he was meant to be their son.

Maybe they end up announcing the news at a gala or banquet of some kind where Daemon and Rhaenyra are present as well. The couple’s relationship with the Lannister’s is more acquaintance like than an actual friendship but they still congratulate them all the same.

The couple ends up adopting Luke after 3 long years of paperwork and background checks of all sorts. Deciding to celebrate this milestone by throwing Luke a halloween themed party in his honor with all the children of their friends and associates present. They want Luke to not only know that he’s wanted and loved, but that he has room to create some nice friendships as well.

Of course the both blacks and greens are invited. Bringing presents and making sure to congratulate them as the kids go off and enjoy the festivities while the adults have small talk as they wait for the guest of honor.

An hour later Luke’s new grandparents come through with an eight year old Luke at their side as the guest all scream ‘surprise!” But it’s at that very moment Rhaenyra nearly faints because that’s her son, her sweet boy. Que the absolute mess that is the black and Targtower kids running to Luke as they make the biggest most confusing scene known to man. Shouting about regrets and forgiveness.

In the haze of all this mess, Luke’s new father can’t help but look to the blonde who he thinks is named after some historic genocidal maniac. The boy is seemingly frozen in place and is looking at Luke as though he’s been reunited with a long lost love. Now the new papa is planning to make sure that little weirdo stays away from his precious son.

Long story short, the party ends before it can start and every adult in the family is served a formal restraining order that states they must remain at a distance of 1000 feet away from Luke and his new parents at all times.

As Luke grows up he begins to notice that somethings more than off with the Lannister/Tully’s. The entire family has a strange obsession with him and it’s come to the point where its a well known fact in their upper class circles.

Luke’s friends think it’s terrifying that this random family is so obsessed with getting close to him. All the while Luke can’t help but find it interesting. Their dedication is incredibly creepy but intriguing at the same time. Particularly the one-eyed blonde who somehow found all of Luke’s socials despite his accounts being private with less than 30 followers. Plus none of his handles have his name in them.

Luke knows he should be freaked out that as soon as he accepts Aemond’s follow request every raunchy pic of him (for his close friends eyes only ofc) have suddenly been bookmarked. However, it only draws him towards the creep.

They’re such a weird family in general and Luke can’t help but to want to learn more.

[sjsmith56]

Hope and Friendship - Chapter 19, Lord Buchanan

Summary: After a sensual night with Ileana, Buchanan receives word that the King is coming, wishing to meet with Bruce himself. He heads out to the Giant’s hut and enjoys a good conversation with him.

Length: 4.4 K

Characters: Lord and Lady Buchanan, Cook, Mary, the elder Barnes, Bruce the Giant.

Warnings: Minors DNI - Contains sexual content which may be inappropriate to readers under the age of 18. Distress from dementia, little bit of a pregnancy kink, some teasing during Ileana’s training session.

Author notes: Image of medieval Bucky Barnes (Lord Buchanan) credited to Instagram artist Nixakimbo. More conversation between Bruce and Buchanan cementing their friendship.

<<Chapter 18

🦅 🏞️ ☕️

It was close to the dinner hour when Buchanan and Rhodes returned to the estate.  After dismounting and reminding his garrison commander to remain quiet about what they had learned Buchanan wrote a note, requesting his falconer send it to the King immediately via messenger hawk.  Then he sought out Ileana, finding her in their quarters with her new attendant, a young woman by the name of Beth.  She curtsied to Buchanan and nervously waited in his presence.

"My Lady wife, I would have your ear for a moment of privacy," he said.  "Has young Beth been fully addressed to her duties and responsibilities?"

"Yes, My Lord," replied Ileana, seeing his excitement, and turning to Beth.  "Go to the kitchen and see to your meal, Beth.  Tell Cook that Lord Buchanan and I will be there shortly."

Beth curtsied again and left quickly, overwhelmed at the presence of Lord Buchanan, a man she had only seen from a distance.  Ileana turned to her husband and kissed him, which he returned with pleasure.

"You seem pleased," she said.  "What is it?"

"Two things," he said.  "A farmer and his sons were attempting to flatten a mound on their land but the mound hid the presence of an ancient structure built into the ground.  I thought perhaps it was a missile silo, of the type you mentioned at the King's palace.  There was a large metal covering, attached with hinges to a rock that I recognized from the remains of ancient bridges."

"It could be but I would have to see it to know for sure," said Ileana.  "What is the second thing?"

"Bruce the Giant," said Buchanan.  "He is a most unusual man, easily twice the size of the largest of us, skin that is green, and until today a surly manner that frightened many, except for my father and myself.  I sought his wisdom and he was as welcoming as any good man is.  He offered us coffee and let slip that he had missed its taste.  When I pointed out that only modern women, like yourself, had expressed knowledge of the drink he admitted he is from a modern world, was a scientist in his previous life and a warrior.  In fact he is likely from the same world as Dr. Jane Foster.  He knew her name!"

"That's incredible!" exclaimed Ileana.  "He must be the only man from a modern world as the Queen had indicated she had only found women in all the time she's been here.  Will he help with the plans to stop the asteroid?"

"Yes, he offered his knowledge readily," replied Buchanan.  "Like you, he said the missiles would be the weapon that could be repurposed to the task.  I have sent a message to the King.  All this time, people thought he was a monster and it turns out he has more knowledge than all of us."

"James, that is good news," said Ileana, kissing him again.  "Surely there is a reason he was brought here, just as we all were.  Did you solve your tenant's dispute?"

He picked her up his arms so their faces were level and kissed her.  "Yes, I had the wisdom of Solomon in the matter," he said.  "You would have been proud of your husband.  Now, I am famished for food and for you.  Let us see to the first so I may have strength for the last."

He kissed her passionately and let her down to the stone floor.  Holding hands they went down to the kitchen where Cook was at her finest, directing her staff as they prepared the food for the garrison.  Beth was just finishing her meal and removed herself from the table as Ileana and Buchanan arrived.  From under the table, Sky watched the hubbub with interest, darting out from time to time to pick up a dropped morsel of food. 

"M'Lord, M'Lady," said Cook, as she brought their plates.  "Sit, please, so I may serve you.  Mary has already eaten and sits with your father who is melancholy."

"How so?" asked Buchanan, alert at the mention of his father.

"I am unsure," replied Cook.  "You know he has these bouts from time to time.  I fear it is him recognizing his mind is drifting away, excuse my familiarity."

"No excuse necessary," replied Buchanan.  "You are accurate in your description.  We will eat and then attend to my father ourselves.  We'll bring Sky with us and see if that brightens his mind."

Cook brought a platter with a cut up roast chicken and roasted vegetables, along with a pot of gravy, several thick slices of fresh bread and butter.   They both speared a piece of chicken with their forks and helped themselves to the rest.  Ileana bit into the chicken, surprised at its juiciness dripping down her chin.  Buchanan smiled and used his napkin to dab at the drips indulgently.

"This is amazing," said Ileana.  "It is so moist and tasty.  Cook is a jewel."

"She is indeed," he replied, his own beard glistening with the drips from his piece of chicken, which Ileana wiped off with her napkin.  "Lord Stark himself said her dishes were the best he ever tasted."

They continued eating without speaking but both fully enjoying the fare put before them.  Cook watched them as they ate and felt comforted that Buchanan had found a woman so compatible with him.  She felt sure that this woman would be the one to make him happy.  The couple finished eating and went to the older Barnes' room, finding him in an agitated state and unresponsive to Mary's attempts to calm him.

"Father," called Buchanan to the older man, "look at me.  It's Bucky.  I'm here.  It's alright."

"Bucky, I'm sorry," stammered his father.  "It's my fault she died...I miss her so much...my Win...my love."

"Father, Mother's death wasn't your fault," he replied.  "She caught a chill and it worsened.  I remember.  You tried to take care of her but there were no healers.  It's okay.  She didn't suffer and she knew you loved her."

The older man started to weep as he relived the day his wife died.  Mary left to make up a sleeping potion while Buchanan continued to console his father.  Sky, still in Ileana's arms squirmed to get out and she placed him on her father-in-law's lap, then guided his hand to the dog's fur.  Slowly he began to pet the wolf cub and his emotions calmed.  When Mary returned Buchanan offered the drink to his father and watched him until he had drained it.  With Mary's help they got his clothes off, put a sleeping shirt on and helped him into his bed.  The lantern was turned down and they gathered outside his door.

"I don't know what spurred this," said Mary in guarded tones.  "One moment he was fine, talking about planting his garden and then he became very sad.  He became agitated as you arrived.  I have never seen him go from one state to another so quickly."

"Thank you, Mary," said Buchanan.  "Can you assign someone to sit with him during the night?  You look ready to sleep yourself.  This is unusual behaviour, even for him and I must think on what to do next for him."

Mary left to find a servant and Buchanan took Ileana's arm to lead her to their quarters.  She could see his concern for his father.

"Have you ever asked the Sorceress to look into his mind?" she asked.  "Perhaps she can help him."

"No, I haven't but I'll consider it," he said.

They entered their quarters and each went to their dressing rooms where they were assisted into their night clothes by the servants, Beth and Tom.  Both were dismissed until the morning but not before they had extinguished all the lights in the rooms, except for those beside the bed.  A fire in the fireplace also lent its glow to the space. 

Ileana came out in her nightgown, a gauzy linen gown, fastened only with a tie at the top.  Buchanan came out of his dressing area wearing a black linen nightshirt that had several ties down the front and long sleeves that extended over his wrists.  In the glow from the fireplace he could see the outline of Ileana's body through the nightgown. Lustily, he pulled her towards him, kissing her deeply as his hands held her head.  He undid the tie at the top of her gown pulling it down to expose the top of her bosom.  She had already undone the top tie of his shirt and pressed her lips against his chest.

"At last I have my wife in my own room, almost in my own bed," he whispered as his lips sought her neck.

Picking her up in his arms he sat on the side of the bed and kissed her fervently for some time as she sat on his lap.  Ileana stood up to remove her nightgown, letting it drop to the floor at her feet.  She stood facing her husband, arching herself towards him as he ran his hands from the back of her legs, over her bottom and to the middle of her back.  Her dark chestnut hair hung loose over her back and shoulders, accentuating her smiling face as she gazed upon his upturned face.  With a quick movement he pulled his nightshirt off exposing the readiness of his manhood to join with his wife.  Shifting his weight backwards he moved onto the bed while pulling her with one hand to join him and they kneeled, facing each other.

"Now I am in your bed," she said teasingly.  "A nice soft bed.  I think I'll go to sleep."

Shaking his head no he pulled her to him again and pressed against her body as he ran his lips and mouth over her soft skin from her neck down to her breasts.  Then he lowered her to her back and placed himself between her knees, stroking his engorged member.  Bending over he tasted her entry and found it already wet for him.  With a smile he guided himself in, satisfied at the moans she gave as he thrust himself in fully.  They moved together in their joining while they kissed deeply and forcefully.  In the flickering candlelight he gazed into her eyes, their pupils fully enlarged in the dim light, reflecting the passion they saw in the other.  Her lips parted as her gasps of pleasure escaped from her mouth.  Buchanan found himself mesmerized by her face in the throes of her passion finally being released and she came in a long moment of bliss, her head thrown back and cries of pleasure coming from the depths of her throat.  It brought him to his own release as he gasped loudly before saying her name in his final thrust.  In the moments after he was only aware of his lips on hers, seeking the taste of her tongue on his as his hands grasped her soft hair.  Together they laid, with him on top, until he lifted himself up and out shifting to her side.  She curled into him as if for protection and there they slept until morning called.

As the morning sun came through the tall windows in their room Ileana awakened and gazed at her husband's tousled hair.  Despite all that needed to be done with the coming asteroid she felt truly content and happy.  Never had she felt this way in her world with Jeremy. 

"This is what it means to commit for life," she thought as she lightly moved his hair away from his face. "Even when he is away I feel him in me and around me."

She placed her face next to his and whispered, "I'll never love anyone as much as I love you."

He spoke, with his eyes closed before opening them, repeating her words back to her.  "I'll never love anyone as much as I love you.  My Ileana.  My morning sun."

Pulling her close beside him he was already hard and lifted her leg over his so he could enter her while they laid facing each other.  There was no hurry or frenzy just a slow slide of his cock into her warm space.  His upper hand covered her breast and he whispered how perfectly it fit his touch.  For a short time they continued in this fashion, as the pressure of her desire began building up in her.

"Turn away from me," he whispered.  "I would have you from behind."

He pulled out and she turned so her back was to him.  He entered her again and this time was able to extend himself fully into her.  As he held her with a hand across her chest he buried his mouth into her neck just below her ear, mouthing and kissing it.  His upper hand reached down and sought out her spot which he found and circled as he continued pumping himself into her. 

"When you are large with our child this is how we will pleasure each other," he whispered.  "It is pleasurable now but the thought of my hands on your child filled belly excites me.  A woman is most beautiful at that time and I will always tell and show you that."

"After, when I need to heal, what will you do?" asked Ileana.  "You are pretty virile, you know.  I never had this much sex with my fiancé."

"What I did after I saw you at the pump in the mountain hut," he admitted.  "I pleasured myself and wasted my seed.  I confessed to the priest later but I felt no shame in the act for I thought of you while I did it.  If your hands are on me as I do it then it won't be sin in my eyes because we are together.  Your fiancé was a fool and I ask you never speak of him again."

She detected a little note of jealousy in his final sentence.  Turning her head towards him, she kissed him while she reached back with her hand to his head.  "He is not even a fraction of the man you are," she replied.  "I will do what I can to please you in other ways during my healing time.  It will make our first time together after that much better."

Her kiss spurred Buchanan on and he increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts into her.  Together they came and it was as satisfying as any other encounter they had.  They laid for some time until Buchanan's dressing room door opened and Tom announced there was a messenger hawk from the King. 

"I should go," said Buchanan.  "Rest here.  The castle will begin its day without you."

"No, I have training today," replied Ileana.  "I'm excited to see what Rhodes has planned for me.  I will meet you for breakfast soon."

Buchanan pulled his nightshirt back on and kissed Ileana then went on to his dressing area.  She pulled her night chemise on then went to her dressing area where Beth had drawn a quick bath, filled only partially.  On the previous day Ileana had told her of the plans to continue her training and showed her the undergarments she would wear with the breeches, tunic and vest.  The young woman had thought it all very daring.  Now, as she watched Ileana pull on her breeches she was almost shocked.

"Lord Buchanan approves of this?" she asked.

"He's seen me in breeches before," replied Ileana.  "I wore breeches at our wedding.  I can't train in a dress.  After I am done I will dress more appropriately as the Lady to his Lord.  Relax, Beth.  It will be okay."

She drew stares from the staff as she walked down to the kitchen but no one said anything, as Mary had already indicated their Lord's wishes regarding his Lady.  Buchanan was already there and smiled appreciatively at her in her new blue breeches, white tunic and blue vest.  Cook came out of the larder and looked with surprise at Ileana then admiration.

"I never thought I would live to see M'Lady in breeches but I must say it suits you," she said, walking around Ileana.  "As if you have worn breeches your whole life."

"I have in my own world," said Ileana.  "I'll wear these for my training then return to my closet and wear a gown for the rest of the day."

"M'Lord," said Cook, getting a gleam in her eye.  "One of my kitchen maids suffered a bad burn to her leg when a spark from the fire caught her dress and made it burn.  Would you allow them to wear breeches instead while they are working near the fire?  Leather takes a spark much better than woven cloth."

"Is she alright?" he inquired.

"Aye, she'll need to rest for the week before returning to her duties but the healer assured me the maid will heal," replied Cook. 

"I will consider it," he answered then turned to Ileana.  "The King rides here, with the Queen, the Sorceress, King Thorn and Dr. Jane Foster.  They wish to meet with Bruce.  I will have to ride out to him and invite him to stay here at the castle as his hut is much too small to house him and the others.  They will be here by dinner.  I have already alerted Mary and Cook.  We will dine in the dining hall while our guests are here."

"Do you have room to accommodate them all?" she asked.  "Can't you send a messenger hawk to him?"

"Aye, the castle can house them all, even the Giant," replied Buchanan.  "He stayed in it when he helped in the battle against Pierce.  I need to find the carpenter to build a strong chair for him.  That I will do before I leave.  The Giant is not fond of messages from the air.  He prefers a face to face approach.  I wanted to watch you train but that will have to wait while I attend to this."

Quickly they ate and he walked out to the courtyard where Magnus was already saddled and waiting for him.  He kissed her, wished her luck and rode out to the Giant's hut.  She strode to the Garrison and found Rhodes already waiting for her.  He tossed her a staff then took one in hand for himself.

"M'Lady," he said with a smile.  "Lord Buchanan directed that I assess you.  We will start with the staff.  Show me what you have learned."

They circled each other and he made several false moves which she didn't fall for.  When he did attack she held him off then attacked him in turn.  Several of the men came to watch and started catcalling which he handled by holding his hand to Ileana to stop briefly.

"This is Lady Buchanan, a member of the Queen's Guard," he said.  "If you are going to criticize her fighting or mine, do it by criticizing the move or the style not because she is a woman and I am a man.  I have seen other members of the Queen's Guard in battle and I would fight alongside any of them.  Right now, M'Lady is a soldier in training.  Help a fellow soldier get better."

They resumed and although Rhodes eventually defeated her he told her that her style was sound and all she needed was practice.  While taking a break for some water several soldiers came up to her and made suggestions on how to improve her stance and hold of the staff.  One even asked if his sister could join the Queen's Guard as she had sworn never to marry.  Wooden swords were brought out that had been weighted to feel like the real weapon with the addition of lead inserts.  Rhodes tossed one to her and they began the assessment of her sword skills.  Again the men watched as she gave as good as she received.  Rhodes defeated her several times before he halted the assessment.  He examined her sword hand, concerned at the development of blisters.

"For us, these blisters are just a minor inconvenience and once they harden into calluses, they serve a function," he said.  "As a lady you need to keep your hands soft for the pleasure of Lord Buchanan.  I will talk to the tanner to find a fine leather to fashion a pair of close fitting gloves to protect your hands.  It might also improve your grip on the hilt.  I see the influence of Lady Falcon in your style.  She is a formidable swordswoman.  Don't change anything.  Again, all you need is practice."

"Thank you Commander," she said with enthusiasm.  "You are a good teacher.  I look forward to training with you again."

"You're welcome," he said.  "Til tomorrow then."

They saluted each other in the manner she was taught in the Queen's Guard, then Ileana returned to the castle to quickly wash and change into a gown.  After she was ready, she found Mary and together they helped the castle prepare for the sudden influx of guests. 

Buchanan rode at a quickened pace to the Giant's hut.  He had been surprised at the quick message from the King but on reflection during the ride out he realized that to the scientist, Jane Foster, early planning and action was crucial.  He rode as far as he could before Magnus began exhibiting nervousness.  After tethering him to a tree he began the short hike and hailed the Giant when the hut came into view.  Like the day before Bruce greeted him generously.

"James, two visits in two days is unusual," he said.  "Coffee?"

Buchanan nodded at the offer.  "I come to invite you to my castle, as a guest," he replied, as he sipped the strong brew.  "I received an early messenger hawk advising the arrival of the King, Queen, Sorceress, King Thorn and Dr. Jane Foster.  Apparently she cannot wait to talk to you.  Did you meet her in your world?"

"No, I knew her by reputation," replied Bruce.  "I knew the man she loved, Thor, and it seems that Thorn is his equivalent here.  You know that you resemble a man from my world as well.  A troubled but good man, also called James Barnes but he wanted everyone to call him Bucky."

"Troubled? How so?”

"Against his will he was turned into a deadly assassin, serving at the whim of an evil master," said Bruce.  "No memory of who he really was until his closest childhood friend recognized him and called to him by name.  It began a change in his mind to where he finally broke away.  It took him a long time but he regained his memories and his will and eventually joined with the Avengers, serving the world instead of evil.  He was a smart man, a good man.  He could have spent his life wallowing in anger and despair over what was done to him but he chose a different path."

"I wonder if there are worlds where I am not a good man," mused Buchanan.  "Certainly, I have had my share of dark thoughts and deeds but then I turned my face back to the light.  If there are as many different worlds as there are stars we can't be honourable in each of them."

"This is why I enjoy my talks with you, James," said the Giant, smiling.  "Even when I was miserable because I missed my world so much.  You exhibit such understanding of things.  You handled the news of modern worlds, modern women, asteroids, missiles...all with acceptance and eagerness to learn.  In my world, we spoke of men like you from earlier times as Renaissance men.  You were open to new thoughts and you changed the world."

Buchanan coloured.  "I only learned to read once King Steven was fostered with us," he said.  "I would watch his teachers attempt to instruct him while all he wanted was to go out and play.  I so wanted to change places with him.  My father suggested I sit with him during the lessons to be a companion and eventually I learned as well.  It was like a door had been opened to a new world that beckoned me constantly.  Perhaps if I hadn't learned to read I would have been that dark evil creature doing the biddings of its evil master."

Bruce watched him intently as Buchanan spoke.  This was the deepest conversation they had ever had.  He put his large hand out to Buchanan. 

"That has made you a good lord," he said.  "I know you have decreed that children must go to school and that you only permit them to work at jobs once they get to their teenage years.  Your understanding of the darkness of men if they don't strive to learn and improve themselves is what separates you from many other men of your rank.  I have always been your friend James, even when I was angry with you. When you returned here after your time in the Holy Land you accepted your father's assessment of me, as someone worthy to befriend, even when I wanted little to do with you."

Buchanan drained his coffee. "You are too kind. Father was always of a forgiving nature and would insist that you needed the solitude of your hut to find the man you once were. He often said your bark was harsh, and your bite worse, but your friendship would last a lifetime." They both smiled, knowing that the elder Barnes was well described. "Bring your cows and bull with you. We can find a place to keep them safe while you stay with us.  Enter through the north gate.  I will order no horses be kept there.  We must do something to get them used to your presence.  I expect you will be a frequent guest in the coming months."

Bruce offered his hand in goodbye and Buchanan touched it with his own.  He turned back down the rocky path to where he left Magnus and thought upon the conversation with the Giant.  It pleased him that his counterpart had a friendship with the Giant in his own world.  The information that he had risen above his troubled life to become a respected warrior satisfied him.  He spent the rest of the journey back to his castle thinking about all of those different worlds that housed a different version of himself, wondering what kind of men they were.

Chapter 20>>

Series Masterlist

Please reblog if you liked this chapter.

[transingthoseformers]

I am very fond of the Quintessons, mostly because my favorite Transformers Era is Season 3 of G1 so incredibly biased and I loved Quintessa's design in Bayverse. More lore! It's a pretty productive sick day, since I'm turning my notes into fairytales. Sorry if their a little stodgy sounding. I read The Silmarillion way too often and it definitely impacted how I write myth and lore.

THE GREAT GIFTS

The celebration that welcome the Quintessons lasted thirteen days and thirteen nights. Cybertronians and Quintessons interacted happily exchange stories and gifts and friendship. The First Born, who named herself Quintessa to honor her Creator, was welcomed directly into the homes of the Thirteen who greeted her as they would have their brother and Prima gave her Quintus's seat at their table. They marveled at the new strange forms the Quintessons took as she marveled at they and their people’s ability to change shape, some taking aspects of the Quintessons into their own forms during their time together.

Gifts were exchanged each day and on the final day, Quintessa presented them herself. The highest of these gifts among them though were reserved for the Thirteen, built solely by Quintessa’s hands.

Before the Thirteen’s eyes these gifts transformed into small Cybertronians with frames smaller even than Minibots. Quintessa introduced them as Mini-Cons, her first creation to serve and foster among the Cybertronians as an everlasting show of the link between their people. Each gift was specially crafted to assist and amplify each Prime’s power. All accepted them graciously and only Micronus and Liege Maximo remained somewhat wary of them, but did not turn away their new companions.

Each artifact’s component pieces in turn swore allegiance to their Prime beginning great and long lasting friendships. Or so it seemed.

For Megatronus, she gifted the Requiem Blaster. From the blaster came the single Mini-Con, Requiem who swore herself as Megatronus partner in combat forever more. Moved by her fierceness, Megatronus dropped to his own knees and swore himself to be her partner and helpmate in all things forever more. They became the first Conjunx Endura swearing themselves to each other and going forth in many fierce battles against Spawn leftover from the First War against Unicron in defense of their people.

For Prima, she gifted the Star Saber and Skyboom Shield. Assistants to him and his focus on law and order they worked with him and his administrators to formalize society and shared rules among newborn Cybertron. A great respect was shared between them, though they remained somewhat aloof.

For Micronus, she gifted the Apex Armor. The components were the largest Mini-Cons, larger even than Micronus and once they separated did not form again as instead of armor Micronus missed Quintus's companionship and found traces of his brother in them. They all took great joy in their friendship, never wearing the armor as intended. They became near indistinguishable from his thriving chaotic nest of Minibots, only standing out by the distinct audial horns the Twins possessed.

For Vector, she gifted the Frozen Watch. This watch was the Mini-Con Scorpia serious and grounded and clever, she froze time linking Vector back to the present so he did not loose himself in the infinite. She grounded him and settled him in ways no one could and he revered and honored her, leading slowly to a blooming affection and eventually romantic love. They are the second Conjunx Endura.

For Solus, she gifted the Creation Lathe. It’s six components became her Torchbearers and closest confidantes with whom she’d plan her ideas and help her focus and execute them. With them she raised her beloved students and built her greatest and longest lasting achievements. To them she bore her Spark and they all claimed themselves as Amica Endura, forming the first Sorority.

For Alchemist, she gifted the Ten. A helpmate and friend the two experimented and laughed daily. Ten had clever hands and was a well of creativity, able to transformers into a great vat to brew in.

For Onyx, she gifted the Triptych Mask. The somber triplets become children to Onyx doted on and squirreled away among his many formed children, their own animalistic forms never once thought of oddly.

For Nexus, she gifted the Omni-Saber.

For Adaptus, she gifted the Scythe.

For Epistemus, she gifted the Cortex Helm.

For Mortilus, she gifted the Ledger of the Departed.

For Liege Maximo, she gifted the Chaos Edge.

Of these last five their names were lost as they themselves were in the War that would erupt between the siblings. But this was not yet known and the partings at the end of this celebration was joyful.

Fr i was *just* talking about bayverse Quintessa with someone earlier! The Quintessons fascinates me because of not only how unique they are, but how big of an impact they have on everyone/everything around them.

Of course, it started off with gifts and celebration. That tracks.

It's so interesting how both the Quintessons abd Cybertronians are curious about each other's forms

Mmmhm and the minicons come into play

Interesting to see how closely Megatronus took to Requiem, considering what I know of Megatronus prime.

It's super duper interesting to see how the minicons become/start a Big Thing for the various primes, I'm staring at Solus yes yes

Damnnn makes sense some parts of the tale were lost to time, after all that tends to happen

[marvelmaniac715]

It’s @losersclubisms birthday (or it was at the time of writing) so here’s a short Junior Wheeler fic and a Picrew recreation of him! I’ve heard about this thing called a Golden Birthday; it’s where the age you are matches your birthday, like turning 8 on the 8th of your birth month for example, so an extra big congrats is in order for your Golden Birthday, I hope it was the best day ever :). I’ll put the fic first then the Picrew will be under it, I hope you like it, it’s set in the ‘Final Family’ AU where the Chucky survivors are all hanging out together as a big happy family, because the survivors deserve happiness, and it explores Junior’s relationships with the other survivors, because I thought that would be fun.

————————————————————-

When Junior helped to vanquish Chucky, he wasn’t expecting anything positive to happen for him afterwards. Both of his parents and his uncle were dead, leaving no other potential guardians except for the foster system, and he didn’t want to do that. So, when Andy Barclay (with heavy coaxing from his sister Kyle who, at one point, physically pushed the man in front of Junior so he couldn’t back out) offered to let him stay in his cabin with his cousin and the other Chucky survivors, he couldn’t believe his luck. Of course, he said yes.

The other survivors were certainly… interesting. Of course, Junior knew all of them, he knew his cousin Jake, his sort-of-ex-friend Devon and his friend Lexy very well, but Andy Barclay, Kyle Simpson, Nica Pierce and the Ray-Tilly twins were still a total mystery to him.

Andy Barclay was initially slightly cold and distant, which made sense considering his childhood trauma, but the more Junior got to know him, the more the man warmed up to him. In just under a year, Andy went from half-heartedly referring to Junior as ‘kid’ without making an effort to really talk to him, to frequently cracking jokes with him and willingly being his running partner. The big emotional breakthrough took a lot of effort on both Andy and Junior’s parts.

One day, on the anniversary of his mother’s passing, Junior just broke down, and Andy just happened to be passing by. The man admitted that although his own mother was still alive, he couldn’t really just go and see her whenever he wanted, and he missed her terribly. It was a fragile connection that they shared, but Junior had a theory that Andy recognised him as a traumatised child, the same sort of traumatised child that existed inside him.

Nica Pierce was, simply put, a badass. When Junior first met her, he’d expected a broken woman, because surely anybody would be broken after what she’d been through with Chucky. But instead, when he tentatively apologised for any stress caused by Chucky, Nica laughed and said:

“Kid, you didn’t do anything to me, you’ve got no need to apologise, besides, he’s dead so there’s no need to just cower in fear anymore.”

With these words, Nica struck up a fast friendship with Junior, who admired her courage and inner strength, as well as her incredible ability to dominate Mario Kart. She and Junior would often spend hours hate watching the Chucky movie with Jenifer Tilly in it, angrily yelling corrections to inaccuracies at the screen and just generally roasting the killer doll that had ruined their lives, deciding that it was their own special way of taking back the power Chucky had stolen from them.

The Ray-Tilly twins were a pleasant surprise, Junior found. They were both so vastly different, and yet, exactly the same as their father. Glenda was mean, and they sometimes would tease the other Chucky survivors, even the adults weren’t safe from mocking or scrutiny. But they were fun, and they loved making TikToks (a hobby that Junior had quickly discovered to be one of his favourites whilst staying in the cabin) and many times a week, the teen would be confronted by an excited Glenda who’d say something like:

“C’mon, there’s this new TikTok audio, we gotta dance to it, grab Lexy, Devon or your cousin and let’s do this!”

However, Glenda had a slightly explosive temper. One time, for example, Junior had made the mistake of innocently pointing out a similarity that their friend shared with their father Charles Lee Ray, and he had almost immediately had to dodge a kitchen knife that was aiming right for his left eye. He wanted to point out that this act made Glenda even more like Chucky, but he also wanted to keep both of his eyes, so he refrained.

Glen was nice, a bit too nice sometimes, in Junior’s opinion. The teen would carefully nurse injured birds back to health, and they’d preach about the values of a vegan diet. One time, Junior questioned Glen’s relation to Chucky because the two were so incredibly different, and they cried. But when they were in a good mood, they were a lot of fun to hang out with. Glen was great at Uno, and despite always insisting on playing as the dog, they were fun to play Monopoly with. Junior didn’t expect to make friends with Glen, or Glenda for that matter, but despite who both of their parents were, the twins were incredibly friendly, so Junior decided to bury the hatchet (both metaphorical and literal, he had a knife on standby just in case he was betrayed by anyone around him) and befriend them.

Jake, Devon and Lexy had taken a while to forgive him and be his friends again. For a few months, the three of them just didn’t believe that Junior was sincere when he tried to make amends. Lexy accepted his apologies first, because she still believed there was good in him, whilst Jake decided that because they were family, he had to be his friend, although the cousins’ ‘friendship’ was slightly strained. The same could be said for Junior’s relationship with Devon, who didn’t really trust him yet at the same time was comfortable enough to let him hold his drink if he had to rush off somewhere then come back in about ten minutes. It was slow and difficult, but Junior was making progress.

Junior didn’t know Kyle all that well because she didn’t live in the cabin with the rest of them. But whenever she visited, it became apparent that she was the ‘mom friend’ of the group, and every time she left Junior felt a longing for his own mother, because only she had comforted him and been kind to him in the same way that Kyle would every time she visited. Nobody else would admit it, but Junior noticed that most times when Kyle went back home, Andy would call his mom, so that counted for something.

Life in a cabin with seven other Chucky survivors (discounting Caroline who mostly kept to herself or spent time with her sister) was strange and unusual, Junior never knew when he was talking to someone if he was going to get an invitation to play Nintendo Sports or if he was going to get a knife in the thigh, but after the terror inflicted by Chucky, he was happy to have a group of friends - no, a family - that would always be by his side and support him, no matter what.

————————————————————-

Okay, here’s the Picrew, again, Happy Birthday @losersclubisms!:

[sonofthedunes]

part one of angsty luke/andrie headcanons under the cut. be warned, they’re all various shades of depressing and some of them are extremely dark.

some of what i’ve mentioned before applies here: andrie is the only surviving child of an unhappy marriage-whose mother never really seems to want her (perhaps because she sees her daughter’s force sensitivity and is appalled by it) and who leaves her family when andrie is 8, whose father is barely around and dies of exhaustion when andrie is 13.

her great-grandmother is kind if distant, and her uncles treat her well (in particular garit, for reasons that will be explained later). but to her grandmother zaria she is more like a live-in servant, a bothersome mouth to feed until she’s old enough to be married off. nothing andrie does seems to please her; the older woman is forever telling her that her tongue is too sharp, her eyes too direct, that mykarrah women are to be composed and quiet at all times (andrie would dearly love to point out how hypocritical this is, but doesn’t relish the thought of a slap for her trouble).

years later garit tells andrie why her grandmother was so insistent on her meekness, and why she coerced her into suppressing her abilities: because andrie’s great-aunts (zaria’s sisters) were both force sensitive just like her, they didn’t hide it, and they were murdered for it. in zaria’s eyes, this was the only way to save her granddaughter-and while andrie obviously does live, this choice is partially what makes her into such a temperamental and combative young woman.

in andrie’s early childhood, her aunt ylva (garit’s wife) serves as something of a surrogate mother to her. a genuinely sweet and selfless woman, she loves andrie just as much as her own sons and andrie adores her right back. but in perhaps the first great tragedy of andrie’s life, just before her niece’s fifth birthday ylva suddenly takes ill and dies. the family is devastated, but worse is still to come.

when andrie is 10 years old in 9 BBY, a sand fever epidemic sweeps across many of tatooine’s most populous settlements-and moisture farmers in rural areas carry it back to their own families from doing business in town. children and the elderly are particularly vulnerable; though her great-grandmother contracts only a mild case, andrie and her cousins conor and trager all become very sick. andrie recovers. her cousins do not. garit has lost his entire family, and from then on regards andrie as something of an adopted daughter. (her other uncle, orin, never marries and has no children.)

because of her cousins’ deaths, it becomes imperative that andrie marry and produce an heir to keep the farmstead in the direct mykarrah line-otherwise it will go to the son of zaria’s brother. as soon as andrie gets her first period at 12, zaria begins searching for a suitable husband. andrie is never asked how she feels about this or if it is something she wants.

but the force works in mysterious ways, and this ends up being how andrie formally meets luke when they’re both 18. there isn’t exactly a surfeit of eligible young men in the area, so zaria must consider them all-even an orphan from a poor family who bears a slave name. (mykarrah is not a slave name-and in the past andrie’s family has in fact owned slaves.) the marriage doesn’t happen bc owen objects to the idea of his nephew basically being adopted for use as a breeding stud, but during the negotiations the teenagers are sent away and discover they have more in common than they thought. they become friends-but zaria declares luke to be “surly” and “obstinate” (even though he was incredibly polite) and forbids him from setting foot in her home again. andrie’s uncles disagree with her assessment and help foster their niece’s new friendship; since she’s not allowed to leave the farm without an escort, they simply happen to run into luke and owen on visits to anchorhead, or accompany her to the lars homestead on occasion.

when word reaches the mykarrahs of the destruction of the lars farm, it is garit who gently breaks the news to andrie that there were no survivors. of course she is devastated; her friend, her only friend (who she’s been slowly developing feelings for), is dead, and she is condemned to a lonely life until she is forcibly married off. but the more she thinks on it, the more it dawns on her that she’s had enough. that for both luke and herself, she is going to leave this place and travel the stars. make something of herself. so that night she runs away from home (without telling anyone, which does come back to bite her in the ass) and hitches a ride on a trader transport to mos eisley. and in the spaceport, guided by the force’s hand, she sneaks aboard a junky corellian freighter and hides in one of the floor compartments…

during her service in the rebellion, andrie learns the meaning of real terror many times: during the battle of yavin, on her first few recon missions, dashing to make a transport ship when the rebels must flee yet another base. but perhaps the most potent of all comes when luke is rescued from cloud city. she knows the facts of his physical injuries, but not how they occurred…until she and luke are alone in his quarters on home one, a terrible thought enters her mind, and she asks him “it was vader, wasn’t it?” averting his eyes, he nods. a wave of fury and horror sweeps over her and she fiercely swears the Sith Lord will pay for what he’s done; were he standing before them now she’d attack with no hesitation. but when she demands to know what exactly happened, luke is unable to speak-he trembles, his eyes fill with tears and he slowly falls apart in front of her. to see someone so courageous, so headstrong, reduced to quiet sobs at the mere thought of that confrontation…that is the true measure of vader’s terrible power. luke buries his face in andrie’s neck and cries, and moved by helplessness and sorrow she cries with him. they have never wept in front of each other like this before. somehow, they forget to be ashamed.

just before luke returns to dagobah to complete his training, he and andrie spend the night together. the following morning, he tells her that there’s one last thing she can do for him. and so it is that andrie cuts his hair, giving him the style we see in return of the jedi-stripping away the last vestiges of the boy to let the man face his destiny. she turns her back when he steps out the door, unable to bear the sight of him leaving for who knows how long…but just prior she declares “the force is with you.” (not may the force be with you. it is. it has to be. the galaxy depends on it.)

as always, drop any questions you may have the askbox. part two soon.

[mx-lamour]

OC ask: 6, 12, 22, 38, B, I

6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

Ezra probably sees laws as immovable. But, as such, laws are also finite. They only exist under particular circumstances. Ezra has been to many settlements, a few cities, and they're all a bit different from each other. The wilderness functions by its own rules. Then there's Barovia, and the other Dread lands. Laws are like lighthouses. They mark a potentially dangerous bit of landfall, but what you do with that insight is up to you. Keep sailing, or take a defined risk?

We'll not go down the rabbit hole of undefined risks just now. That's where terror and folklore thrive.

12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

I assume Ezra has flexible arms like I do, and I haven’t yet found an itch I can't scratch. However, the new prosthetic situation has been tricky for him. He's anticipating a more articulated hand soon, but for now he has what amounts to a wooden mitten, and it's not very effective for scritches. Sticks exist, though; arrow shafts, things like that. It's just enough to give his remaining hand that extra reach.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Ezra has long been resigned to the idea that he doesn't get to have nice things (usually to do with caring relationships or a sense of belonging, not material wealth). So he goes through a kind of grieving process with envy. To witness something beautiful, that he wants for himself but knows he can't have, is as excruciating as it is inspiring.

Ezra also tends to be incredibly supportive of the object of his jealousy. He can't have this, but by gods, it is going to work for them. It has to work for someone. He'll live through it vicariously. (But I think this particular response has been unique to Barovia onward.)

38. What memory do they revisit the most often?

He has a few that crop up here and there. The first time he met Ireena, and sat up with her late into the evening while his companions slept. The first time he realized the Traveler was with him; he sent out a little prayer, riding in the back of Ezmerelda’s wagon, and a single candle flickered to life in response. The first time he read about Alek and Strahd hanging over a cliff, refusing to let each other go, and realized he would have done anything for a friendship like that when he was young.

But the one that he has revisited most often is the memory that's been with him the longest. It was the first time he'd set fire to a foster family's home. It was an accident, but it didn't matter. The effect was ruinous. House gone, people injured, livelihoods in ash. No one ever looked at him the same after that. Their fears had redoubled. That was the first time Ezra felt like a monster.

B) What inspired you to create them?

Autism. 😅 Now, an essay...

I was at a point where I had newly considered the possibility and was pretty sure that I was/am autistic. I had started to learn a lot about my own experiences (I wasn't actually diagnosed until about a year into the campaign, so very recently), and I used Ezra as an allegory to process some of what was being revealed to me. (I had also written kind of a horrible memoir podcast for the same purpose, and Ezra was featured in episode 5. I am not going to link it, haha.)

That aspect of Ezra wasn't actually intentional until I noticed I was doing it, but then I leaned in.

I don’t remember what made me choose a fire genasi initially. I had to talk it over with my DM when it came to me, because I liked the idea, but I wasn't sure it would fit well enough with the setting or the class I wanted to play. (At the time, I had been thinking about playing a rogue. My first and longest-running rpg character had been a rogue, and it had been a while since I played one.) My DM reassured me of the setting component, at least.

But I wasn't entirely convinced that I could pull off a blazing bright man being the kind of stealthy I was going for (this art is pretty damn accurate to how I saw him at this point in the process), so I took a little bit of a turn into my other most familiar territory: #i play clerics a lot, and some divine energy was certainly going to be useful in a horror setting. But I hadn't tried out the trickery domain yet, and that had the potential to still give me a little bit of that roguish flavor I had originally envisioned.

When, much later (my DM had been planning CoS for about a year before launch), it finally came time to nail down who this person really was and put them into a world, that was when my autistic revelations decided they were going to have Input.

I really ran with the personification of fire. What can fire eat? How would fire sleep? How is it viewed and interacted with generally by people going about their daily lives? With sentience, how does it feel about and react to this? I gave him little stims and sensory icks. Following through on the stealth aspect of trickery, I had him in disguise, but it was just masking. A coping mechanism for interacting with a world that didn't understand him and, beyond that, couldn't really teach him to understand himself either.

When my DM asked who his patron deity was, I wasn't sure. I looked at a few. When I decided on the Traveler (which had been vaguely familiar to me only through having created a changeling character for a previous campaign), my DM had this tell, that I assume all DMs have, where they get this glint in their eye that means they've made a connection and they're doing mental steeple-fingers up in there. But he discussed it very reasonably with me, and we agreed that it was a suitable choice, and that Ezra wasn't a priest or anything. The Traveler chose him, not the other way around.

Because of this (and tbh it's one of my favorite things to play with) I didn't even use most of his class abilities until we were well into the campaign, and those I did use were disguised as seemingly ordinary gestures to him. Eventually, though, it couldn't be helped, and we found ways for him to suspect that something more was happening there.

And, because I had played into his fire aspect so much when building his background, I started to give him levels in sorcerer, too. I had not planned on doing this, before we got into it, but it helped to stave off becoming too powerful too fast as a cleric before he figured things out, and it also allowed me to explore some of his fear and self-consciousness, because he had been put in this new situation where his ability to burn was becoming pretty vital and maybe even desirable.

So he actually had to face that, and when he started to let himself go a little bit more and explore his own power, that's when I would give him another level in [phoenix] sorcerer. And when he started to accept that there might actually be something looking out for him and started to get more comfortable asking for its help, that's when I would give him a level in cleric. (There were a couple exceptions to this, in which the mechanics were just going to be frustrating and weird if I didn't do it a certain way, but in general that was the idea.)

Ezra has been a seriously therapeutic character these last 15 months. He's been teaching me things about myself, and I've been trickling in on him things I've learned from my therapist (Ezra’s been with me longer than she has). It's a symbiotic relationship at this point. I inspired him and he inspires me. :')

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

Bro, what isn't his canon universe?

He’s from Faerûn, he got sucked into Barovia, and there he's stumbled upon the remains of people who might have even been from our irl world initially. He’s the child of a genie and an elf, he was born in hell, he’s been to places that shouldn't exist, his patron is the literal Traveler, and he's preparing to alter time itself. I couldn't contain him to a universe if I tried. Heck, the universe he came from can hardly contain itself to one canon. 😂

[jodilinbio]

As much as I cherished my husband, it became evident that we were not entirely compatible in the bedroom. This realization weighed heavily on me, along with the fear of infertility. The thought of being unable to conceive was more distressing than our sexual struggles.

In the early years of our marriage, I harbored a desire to have a child and honestly, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking at the time. Nonetheless, I wanted one at this time, not realizing that the desire would fade away in a few years. Although Tom initially expressed acceptance of this idea, subtle hints and his difficulty in climaxing made me question his true feelings about parenthood. I grappled with self-doubt, wondering if I was to blame for his challenges in the bedroom until I later learned more information.

Despite undergoing tests that showed no issues with my reproductive health other than a horned uterus., the shadow of potential infertility loomed over me due to my mother’s past medication use.

Over time, Tom’s difficulties with climaxing persisted, leading to a period of dwindling hopes for a child. My priorities shifted, and the once-burning desire for motherhood gradually faded away. I found solace in the companionship we shared and the love that grew between us, even as the physical aspect of our relationship waned. I hated noise and didn’t want to lose my freedom to a child. Then there was the fact of how costly kids were to consider.

I looked up Paula and Shelly, my foster sister, and contacted them as well.

Paula and I kept in touch until she decided to dump me in 2015 due to not being willing to pay for her to visit us for two weeks. I’ve missed her one bit. She was incredibly dumb and selfish. Many times during our “friendship” I had thoughts of cutting her off. I was glad she took the liberty of beating me to it, so I wouldn’t have any lingering guilt.

Shelly didn’t do anything wrong, but I eventually chose to cut ties with her because I would only hear from her if I reached out to her first.

In 1994, Bob ended up in prison for supposedly raping a minor. Despite the statistics, I never believed Bob was capable of such a heinous crime. You just had to know the man. I don’t doubt that he allowed minors alcohol, though. He was the type of guy who was too nice to say no, even when he knew he should.

Sometime in the mid-nineties, I called Nervous’ mother after finding his phone disconnected and failing to find a new listing for him. She told me he had passed away from a sudden heart attack. He was fifty-three.

Kim visited us for a few days during this period, bringing her boyfriend Phil and a deaf friend named Alex. I enjoyed their visit, but Tom sure didn’t. He was working the third shift, trying to sleep while we hung out by the pool or went sightseeing, including a trip to Sedona. We got too noisy at times and disrupted his sleep, though I suspect he felt left out and a bit jealous.

Physically, I was healthier in Phoenix than I had been back east. I stopped getting frequent colds and infections—sometimes years went by without one. Despite being home most of the time, I became more active, exercising regularly and doing more around the house. Tom also got me hooked on computers, and I began keeping my journals digitally instead of by hand.

After months of sensitivity in my bad ear, I had an ear canal drilled in late 1994. It began to fuse shut, so I needed a second operation in early 1995. In hindsight, we should have simply dismantled the frame, but we didn’t know better at the time. The canal was necessary to figure out what was causing the sensitivity and rule out tumors, and while the surgeon was at it, he built an eardrum. Unfortunately, I didn’t obtain much hearing. Another surgeon later dismantled the frame. Having half an outer ear isn’t the prettiest sight, but it’s far more comfortable.

I never made it to the Grand Canyon, but I did visit Laughlin, Nevada—a much mellower gambling spot than Vegas—and made a trip to California. The first trip to California was more symbolic than anything, a way for me to say I’d finally made it all the way across the country. We were near the Nevada/Needles, California border during a Laughlin trip, so we shot across the border. I was thrilled to make it there just before turning thirty.

On October 4, 1997, at age thirty-one, I finally quit smoking with the help of Nicorette gum. Quitting was tough and smoking and talking on the phone had always gone hand in hand for me. As a result, I started to enjoy chatting on the phone less and less. Besides, Andy was becoming more of a pest, only visiting when he wanted a favor and calling every day for long conversations which I no longer had patience for. He was getting hooked on the same few subjects, mostly God, food, and celebrities.

The cravings to smoke lasted four months. There were times when I wasn’t sure I’d make it through, but I did. However, quitting smoking came with its own set of problems, mostly gaining weight. Losing weight was much harder now that I was older. To shed the pounds, I had to drastically cut calories. My days of being able to eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight were long gone. My appetite, however, had increased dramatically. What used to be a necessity—eating to live—became a constant craving, living to eat. It took nearly a year, but I eventually dropped from 125 to 105 pounds.

The more I came to resent people, the less I wanted to sing professionally, even though I still loved doing it for fun. I just wanted to be with Tom and retreat into our little world. I wanted our house to be our sanctuary, our escape from the rest of the world. Unfortunately, the world’s drama often found its way inside, invading our peace.

I preferred to keep a small circle of people in my life—less drama that way. Tom wasn’t very social either, with only a few acquaintances and no close friends he regularly spent time with. Many people frown on being anti-social, but we were happy and that was all that mattered. Solitude isn’t the crime many think it is.

In March 1998, when I was thirty-two, I got braces. I needed braces because an impacted adult tooth began to push through my gums—it was an incisor right next to a molar. After having all my wisdom teeth pulled, this baby tooth was the fifth tooth I had removed.

In the summer of 1998, I cut off all contact with my parents and brother. I was tired of the constant bickering, hypocrisy, lies, and nagging. At that time, I wasn’t sure whether to cut ties with my sister and nieces, so I held off for another year until we moved. I even cut ties with Kim and Andy, though I had mixed feelings about that. In the end, I felt it was best to wipe the slate clean. When it came time to move, I didn’t give many people our new address.

Toward the end of 1998, I began collecting dolls. My collection included a wide range of colors, nationalities, races, sizes, styles, and materials.

In July 1999, I decided to cut my hair, which had grown to just above my thighs. It was a relief to no longer deal with its weight, though I eventually missed my long hair and let it grow for four to five years between haircuts.

I had always wanted to move from the Phoenix house. I longed for a bigger, more modern home, with more space between us and the neighbors. The assholes next door were becoming unbearable, and even Tom, who is usually very tolerant, had grown tired of living inches away from what felt like a constant circus.

Each set of neighbors seemed to get progressively worse. When we first moved in, a man with two kids and two loud dogs lived next door. Thankfully, they left a few months later in late 1993.

Next came a large Mormon family. They, too, had dogs—plus a crowd of screaming children who would drive me crazy for hours playing outside. Their basketball games were especially annoying because they were no more than ten feet from our house, and it felt like they were bouncing the ball off our walls. After two long years, they moved out, and somehow the house ended up in the city’s hands, which opened the door to all sorts of freeloaders and trouble.

From the spring of 1996 to the spring of 1999, a Black woman on Section 8 moved in next door. It was supposed to be just her (Joely) and her year-old daughter, but her boyfriend Mike and a handful of others ended up living there too. They had a dog for a short while, but once she was caught with it, they were ordered to get rid of it. The visiting kids were sometimes a nuisance, but the real problem was Mike’s boom car stereo—and that of their frequent visitors. Despite our polite requests for them to turn it down, they continued blasting it, coming and going without a care for how much noise they made. They were loud, rude, and obnoxious, with no regard for anyone else.

At one point, after suspecting I was behind some prank mail I sent them (yes, I was guilty of that much), they left sexually explicit notes in our mail slot, and once even left a voicemail preaching about racial harmony while Tom was at work. I didn’t tell him about these things at the time because I didn’t want him to worry.

Tom sent a letter of complaint to the city, and while it helped temporarily, the noise always resumed a few months later if even that. He’d have to send in another letter just so we could hear ourselves think. If I had known then how badly things would escalate and how long they would victimize me, we would have gotten the hell out of there sooner or just tried to put up with their shit if we could.

Finally, in June 1999, a large Mexican family moved in, also on section 8. There was less music and no barking dogs, but instead, there were crowds of people of all ages constantly yelling and screaming. Unlike the previous neighbors, whose noise was mostly confined to certain hours, this was an around-the-clock ordeal. Little kids, often in diapers—or sometimes stark naked—would run around in the yard and even in the streets at 3 a.m.! I couldn’t watch TV, read a book, or even enjoy a quiet dinner with Tom without being disturbed by their antics. Scores of vehicles came and went at all hours, and it was obvious that none of the adults worked, despite appearing perfectly capable of doing so. Repeated requests to quiet down were ignored, as were complaints to the city. These people were extremists, rebellious, and determined not to be told what to do, even though we had been there first and it was our tax dollars helping to support their lazy lifestyle.

Realizing things weren’t going to improve, we started looking for land in the rural town of Maricopa, an hour south of Phoenix and about two hours north of the Mexican border. We also visited manufactured home dealers to check out different models. While I liked all the homes we saw, I fell in love with one particular 2,100-square-foot model at the fourth place we visited. I was moved to tears—I knew it was the one.

Finally, on September 24, 1999, we left Phoenix for good.

[heroesoath]

@diaboliquet

This wasn't Alex's first trip to New Orleans, but it was hist first trip here as Alex rather than Havok. It was hard to enjoy the scenery and relax when he was wearing a skintight suit and shooting plasma from his hands, but now that he was here he had every intention of stopping to smell the flowers. It wasn't so much a vacation, as it was a little trip to get away from superheroics before Remy and himself were contacted by Emma to hightail to it to some other part of the country for X-Men related things. Before then though? Remy was going to show Alex the city and they were going to relax . . . as a couple.

Walking along the busy streets, blue eyes were darting everywhere, taking in the sights and most importantly the scents, he knew he looked like a damn tourist, but it wasn't often he ever was one. He didn't travel, at least not as just a regular man, so when he did he tended to fall into being a little stereotypical. Their arms brush once and Alex is all grins as he reaches down to thread their fingers together, stopping their steps for only a moment to lean in to press one kiss to a stubbly jaw. "You're quiet." He notes, studying Remy's side profile before he offers a light nudge so the two could stand where there was less foot traffic.

Remy had been his friend long before their relationship turned romantic or physical. Finding someone in the X-Men who didn't judge him like so many did, who didn't compare him to Scott?? Remy was amazing in that aspect, one of the most important people in his life, Alex often pondered just how easy it was for him to fall back in the day. Relationship speed bumps aside, drama of all kinds flooding in from kept secrets, and yet the two of them always found their way back to one another. When Remy was blind and handpicked for his team, Scott's doing no doubt, their friendship rekindled and fortunately it didn't take them long to fall back into bed.

Now? Now Alex was a prime boyfriend, ever focused on getting this relationship right, because even if both of them were certified disasters he had no interest of losing Remy forever. If their love story didn't work out he'd be heartbroken, but he would never lose Remy as a friend. But being just a friend with Remy was also not an option, not when one smile or accent-fueled whisper sent his heart soaring. " I know you have a lot of history here, this is your stomping grounds. I wanted to experience it with you fully, but I promise, next time we take a trip I'm more than happy to just slide into some shitty motel, watch shitty cable and have incredible sex for a long weekend. " He teases, interlaced fingers now unlacing in favor of him putting his hand on Remy's back and soothing across it with an open palm. " And since we're reliving your childhood, we can visit Hawaii next. My foster parents are pieces of shit, but I think we'd have a decent time lounging on a beach . . . either that or Alaska, my grandparents would probably let me use one of their cabins, but I'd need to bring extra blankets so you don't freeze your ass off. " He pauses, his smile lop-sided. " Stop me if I'm being an idiot. "

[chimerinshine]

My Fanon/Canon on Wendell & Wild:

(PART 1)

•Wendell and Wild (confirmed and canonically at the movie) has older siblings which the demons at the jar (yes the ones Manberg collects) could be their half siblings or literally siblings in blood

•Belzer perhaps has previous wives or some mortal waifu

•The reason why the Rust Bank is a ghost town because of many bad things happened including Klaxon's corruption

•Before Kat was born Delroy and Wilma (Kat's Parents) already got by Irmgard and Lane and force them to work with them and owned their brewery but they deny it and with that they recieve dead threats but they got a tough side so they never scared

•After the accident happens and Kat was on the orphanage Klaxon's decided to invade the brewery and burn everything including the workers there

•Kat's Foster Home is a disaster nobody likes her there even the director of it was very greedy (canonically in the movie can be seen in a scene)

•Kat's anger on her bully leads to a murder (canonically in the movie and can be seen in a scene of her memory)

•Kat grew getting in prison in her life (canonically can be seen in her past)

•Kat's innocent childhood fades away because of anger and guilt she felt

•With Kat's anger and guild Wendell & Wild was created (canonically they represent as anger and guilt of Kat [Wendell was her Anger and Wild was her guild])

•Raul was a trans (confirmed and canonically)

•Raul's mom when someone call Raul a girl or a she, she's getting angry because she knows what Rau love to be (Bwahh that's sweet, also canonically and confirmed)

•Sweetie and Sloane perhaps they also a foster or their parents was in the other area

•Fr.Bests wasn't evil at all just corrupted (canonically)

•Fr.Bests was once a very nice guy and an ordinary pleasant clergy man. But since people leaving one by one on the Rust Bank add that meeting the Klaxons he got corrupted and turned for what we know him now

•Fr. Bests secretively hates Klaxons (canonically can be seen on a scene where the Klaxons getting down with their cart) but also he got to work on them to make his school alive

•Fr.Bests is secretively stress and anxious one (obviously)

•Fr. Bests might be a non-binary or he has no problems on things (as we can see him loving his new look)

•Fr. Bests as dead and corrupted one he is somewhat narcissist, somewhat greedy, somewhat baddie (canonically in his files)

•Wendell & Wild are still young demons but have early maturity in their body such facial hairs and so forth

•Sister Helley have a similar past life to Kat reason why she once also a Hellmaiden (canonically)

•Manberg and Sister Helley were once friends when they are young but the friendship kind a ruined when Sister Helley's demons is out of control

•Manberg once have feets but he lost it because of demons because of those he started to become a demon hunter

•Sister Chinstrap and her partner (the nun duos) are kind a related to a movie called 1923 (as the frames and pictures was filled with different kind of planks, woods or anything that is use to punish the one who is misbehave and disobedient huh! No wonder why they never smile)

•Kat's bloodline has an incredible height (i mean for a 13 years old she's dang tall with or without boots)

•Kat's is a lesbian (perhaps canonically)

[finagled]

this year was crazy and devastating. it was tumultuous. it was one obstacle after another. but my partner and i got to the other side of it. we finally got to spend christmas and new years in each other's arms. i know i wouldn't have gotten through it if not for her. my dad passing at the start of the year really broke me. he was one of my best friends. and i know its with the love and support of my partner and her mom that i handled it as well as i did.

things go wrong often it seems but its not lost on me how many friends and family i have in my network compared to most. im so grateful for everybody who has touched my life, and those who choose to remain in it. i am working hard to be a good person and a great friend and im glad to have others on this journey with me.

here's to 2023 being a year for growth, a year for fostering friendships, a year of bolstering ourselves against the system and for staying true to our morals. this year will probably be crazy, because the world is crazy. but i have met so many people, and so many of them are incredibly hard working and have solid integrity. i believe in our ability to get to the other side of this year, too.

happy new year :0) ghoulies

[tinyshe]

GoFundMe: Mohamed Bzeek 

The fundraiser continues to support Bzeek's incredible work: https://gfme.co/bzeek-yt

December 21, 2020 by Imad Bashir, OrganizerWhen I originally set up the GoFundMe, I thought it would raise a few thousand dollars…. I have been blown away by the generosity and kindness of so many people. Mohamed and I would like to thank everyone for their donations and   overwhelming generosity.  It has made a huge difference in Mohamed's life. ------------------------------------------------- I wanted to share some sad news.  Mohamed's daughter, Samantha, passed away last year.   Mohamed started fostering Samantha when she was 6 weeks old.  At the time, her doctors said that she would only live for a few months. Due to Mohamed's diligence and loving care, Samantha lived to be almost 9 years old, passing away 2 days short of her ninth birthday... Mohamed wanted to thank everyone for their condolences and kind words. ------------------------------------------------ Mohamed has been fostering children for over 31 years now, and has fostered terminally ill children exclusively for the past 25 years. Mohamed recently finished the process of updating his fostering license, so in the future, he will be able to foster more than one child at a time.   ----------------------------------------------- When I originally set up the GoFundMe, the goal was to raise funds that Mohamed could spend however he saw fit,  anything that would improve his and his children’s quality of life.   Some of the things Mohamed has used donations for: AIR CONDITIONING Mohamed had air conditioning installed in his home. This was a huge help, especially considering the heat wave that California went through this summer. REPAIRS - VAN Repairs on the wheelchair accessible van MAJOR HOME REPAIRS Fixing the roof and major home repairs. Installed a water heater. REPAIRS- WHEELCHAIR Repairs on Adam’s power wheelchair ACCESSIBILITY- RENOVATIONS Mohamed is in the process of making his home more accessible for his son Adam, who uses a power wheelchair. He is having doorways widened and enlarging Adam’s room. On the whole, the donations have helped Mohamed and his family to live more comfortably. I wanted to announce that I will be turning over the GoFundMe to Mohamed’s friend, Imad Bashir.  It has been an honor and a privilege managing this GoFundMe. I will continue to stay in touch with Mohamed and his son Adam. I didn't know Mohamed and Adam when I started the GoFundMe, but their friendship has been a huge blessing in my life.  

Been seeing this dude for years and years now, gotta wonder.

What's the Islamic equivalent to Catholic Saints, because he needs to be put in for that

[cantstoptheimagines]

Duty (Tyrion Lannister | Game of Thrones)

Summary — You’re married to Jaime Lannister, though your heart lies with another.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Arranged Marriage and Gilded Cage Tropes; the perfect combination of fluff and angst; yearning and tears; the Reader and Tyrion are trapped by their circumstances.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,083. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ “Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret.” ➳ The prompt is inspired by the classic Barbie movie, The Princess and the Pauper. It is one of the lyrics from the introduction song, ‘Free’.

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

The royal gardens of King’s Landing seemed to be the place that provided you with an escape. Your family had come to the Capital to align themselves with the Lannisters. What was meant to be a short visit had quickly turned into your own personal nightmare. Tywin had decided to, in his words, ‘bless’ your family with a betrothal between you and his eldest son, Jaime, to thank them for their loyalty.

And despite your pleas, your family accepted, leaving you to fend for yourself in King’s Landing while they returned home.

You and your new husband got along well enough. The marriage had been consummated and you wore happy smiles for the public. Behind closed doors, however, your interactions were kept to a minimum. A greeting or two in the mornings and afternoons, maybe even a few words before you both fell asleep at night, but never anything more than that.

It was a loveless union.

And while you hadn’t fostered very many relationships among those in the Capital, it hadn’t taken long before you found friendship in a rather... ‘inappropriate source’, as some might say.

Tyrion Lannister, better known by his cruel nickname, ‘The Imp’, and Jaime’s own flesh-and-blood brother, had become your closest companion. He didn’t annoy you with boring conversations about the weather and the latest fashions. And he didn’t care when you indulged yourself in wine to forget your sorrows and loneliness.

Like now.

Sitting beneath a golden gazebo, your gilded cage, you stared out at the waters of Blackwater Bay. Waves crashed against the cliffs below. The sun was warm against your skin and the scent of flowers made the air smell sweet. You were lucky, but you felt—

“So miserable.”

You choked in surprise, coughing as you quickly attempted to hide your wine from sight, tossing the drink into some bushes. You stopped, however, when you glanced over your shoulder and realized who exactly had startled you. Groaning over your empty cup, your eyes narrowed at the assailant.

At the gazebo’s entrance, Tyrion stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a smug smile on his face. His squire took up the space next to him. Tyrion gave you a nod in greeting, still smiling, and raised his eyebrows. You heard him sigh as you turned away from him.

“Podrick,” he said, “go fetch some more wine for our friend here, will you?”

“Yes, M’Lord.”

You heard the sound of footsteps as Podrick left to fulfill Tyrion’s wish. You felt a heavy gaze boring into the back of your head. Eventually, you grew tired of his games, and said, “You’re going to burn a hole through my skull if you keep doing that.”

You heard him let out a deep chuckle. His shoes tapped against the garden’s cobblestone as he approached.

“And if you keep disposing of your wine in that manner,” he said, “you’re going to murder every rose in this garden.”

You huffed, shaking your head, “They’re hideous anyway.”

“Oh, come now,” he whispered, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face, his tone overwhelmed with sarcasm, “I think they’re rather lovely.”

“You’re entitled to your poor tastes, My Lord.”

You tried not to smile when Tyrion let out a bark of surprised laughter. You finally turned to look at him. As he gazed at the seemingly endless sea, your eyes trailed over his features. He was incredibly handsome, even with that scar he had received from the Battle of Blackwater. In fact, it made him more so. He was rugged, which you found quite desirable.

“You’re very entertaining, you know?”

You snapped out of your daydreams. Tyrion had a smile on his face as he slowly turned his attention to you, and continued, “You’re very easy to talk to.”

“As are you, My Lord,” you replied. “Far easier than your brother.”

Although he chuckled at your comment, he muttered, “You shouldn’t say such things out in the open. You never know who could be listening.”

You acknowledged his words, turned to look at the Bay once more, and lowered your voice to a whisper, “Sometimes I wish I had been promised to you instead.”

Tyrion took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he stared down at his shoes. He agreed with you. Over time, he had come to care for you far more than his brother ever would.

“Yes, well,” he choked, “duty means doing the things your heart may well regret.”

You inhaled sharply, eyes burning as you tried to hold back tears. You desperately wanted to reach out for Tyrion’s hand, to take him and run far away from your horrid lives of unyielding expectations. The air was devastatingly silent as Tyrion’s words reminded each of you that your responsibilities, your duties, were not in either of your favors.

“Ah, Podrick! There you are!”

You blinked, offering Tyrion’s squire a small smile, which he returned as you allowed him to take your empty cup and pour you another round of wine. Podrick then placed the bottle, along with your cup, on the small table next to you.

“I do apologize,” said Tyrion, capturing your attention once more, “but Podrick and I must be going.”

“Thank you for keeping me company, My Lord,” you said. “I hope to speak with you again soon.”

As he looked at you with a kind smile, trying his best to conceal the sad expression in his eyes, Tyrion resisted the urge to take your hand in his. Instead, deciding to whisper, “We shall see.”

He then revealed one of his hands that had remained hidden behind his back throughout your conversation. A single red rose, one from the bush whose life you had potentially shortened, was presented to you.

You were grateful that Podrick couldn’t see your face as your eyes suddenly filled with tears and your lip began to quiver. Covering your mouth with one hand, the other reached out to take the flower. Your skin was warm against Tyrion’s in the moment your hands briefly connected.

He couldn’t hold your hand like you both desperately wanted, but he could find ways for you to feel one another. To let you know.

Once you had taken the flower, Tyrion bowed, “I hope you have a wonderful evening. Come, Podrick.”

As Tyrion and his squire left, you tightly clutched the rose in your hands, pressing it against your chest, as a single tear finally cascaded along your skin.

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot  ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.) 

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

-

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.  

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation). 

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!