#her whole life is ruled by fear :) it's the only thing she's ever known :)

[urlocalwhumper]

some nana backstory ✌️ nothing but suffering this time lol

@sowhumpshaped

nana liked the hallway closet.

it was cramped, and dark, and smelled kinda musty, but if she put down an old blanket and curled up real small, it was sorta comfortable, and it was her home.

master didn't like it when she was in his way, and the hallway closet was the most out-of-the-way place she could think of. he left her alone when she was in there, so she figured she chose well.

she whimpered softly as her injured tail brushed up against the wall of the tiny space. the throbbing ache hadn't gone away for weeks, and she had started to resign herself to the possibility that it never would. the rest of her ached too, most of the time, but this was different.

nana had been born a little under twenty years ago, in the home of an unregistered pet breeder. she'd been taken from her mother from almost the moment she could survive without her, and handed off to the first person who'd forked over the money for a puppy.

she'd been maybe three years old then, scared and confused, in a crate in the backseat of a stranger's car. she'd started to cry, missing her mother and her siblings and even the breeder who'd sold her off, until her supposed new owner shouted at her to shut up. trembling with fear, she'd clamped her mouth shut and cried in silence for the rest of the trip.

once they'd arrived at her new owner's house, it was revealed that she was meant to be a birthday present for their daughter. but she was so overwhelmed by all the people crowding around, the blaring music and colorful decorations and strong smell of food, that she cowered and urinated on the floor out of pure terror when the couple's daughter tried to reach for her. which was clearly not the reaction they wanted.

she got used to her new home, with time. but the first impression stuck, and the little girl she was meant to be a present for didn't seem to have as much interest in her as her parents had hoped. that, along with the parents themselves becoming annoyed by how much more work it took to care for her compared to a normal puppy, led to them putting her back up for sale after only two years.

her next owner trained guard dogs, and bought her in the hopes that a dog and human hybrid would give better results. she disappointed him. greatly.

her first kick in the ribs came when he caught her playing with a duckling by a nearby pond. she'd been tied to a post in his backyard - to get her used to being outside for long periods of time - but the lead was just long enough for her to get close to the ducklings. she'd been trotting around with one on her head when her owner came back outside, and gotten an earful and a boot-shaped bruise for her trouble.

he'd kept her for a long time, hoping that maybe as she got older she'd get more aggressive, even taken to starving and beating her to try and provoke her to attack, but it never worked. she just felt weak and achy, and became even more docile in the hopes that it would stop.

once she hit seventeen, after twelve years of trying and failing miserably to turn her into the perfect attack dog, her owner finally gave up and sold her to her current master.

she was around nineteen years old, now. at least, she was pretty sure. master didn't celebrate or even acknowledge her birthday, so she wasn't entirely sure if it had passed or not.

"DOG!" she heard her master shout. she whined and curled up even smaller. he sounded angry.

she could hear his footsteps stomping down the hall, and squeezed her eyes shut, like he would just go away if she didn't look.

she felt the whoosh of the door being wrenched open, and then she was being yanked out of her tiny sanctuary by the arm and roughly tossed against the wall.

she yelped in pain at the impact, cowering with her ears pinned back as he loomed over her.

"the fuck are you hiding for?!" he shouted. he reeked of alcohol, which only made her suppress a whimper as she hunched to make herself look even smaller.

he kicked the wall right next to her head making her frantically scramble back and cry out in terror, huddling as close to the ground as she could, ears back and tail tucked, trying to look as docile and submissive as possible. his kick left a hole in the wall, which only served to make him angrier.

"fuck, now look what you made me do!" he bellowed, and he made sure his next kick didn't miss.

she felt her nose crunch against the toe of his shoe, blood spewing onto the vinyl floors. she didn't even fully register the next few minutes, just a barrage of pain and fear. she didn't even notice when he stopped at first, curled up in a ball trying to protect her vitals, bruised and bloody and trembling. only once she dared to lift her head again did she notice that she was alone.

the carpet was stained with her blood - something he'd probably yell at her about later - and every movement was agony, but she needed to get back to the closet. she needed to be out of the way.

so, she forced herself up on her hands and knees, even if the bruised limbs shook under her, and dragged herself back to her little nest. blood kept dribbling from her nose into her mouth, and she'd hate to stain the blankets, but she couldn't get it to stop.

she wasn't even entirely sure when she fell asleep. just that she laid there, panting and dazed, until her consciousness tapped out.

[gnomewithalaptop]

Y'know, it's so funny to me when people make out like Tim Drake would keep files on how to take down his friends when Tim has explicitly said he disagrees with Batman on this:

[Young Justice (1998) #36]

Like, yes, during his Red Robin tenure he does make a Hit List full of contingency plans for known heroes. But if you go and read that, you'll notice that, while the Justice League and Damian may be on there, Tim's own friends are decidedly absent:

[Red Robin (2009) #14]

In fact, a lot of these heroes are people that have either (a) attacked Tim specifically, (b) have a track record that includes turning evil/getting mind controlled, or (c) are on the JLA (meaning Batman probably already had those files compiled and Tim just stole them).

So yeah: Tim's not down with contingency-planning for his friends. You know which one of the YJ crew DID agree with Batman though? My favorite blorbina Anita Fite, aka Empress:

[Young Justice (1998) #36]

But yeah, this contrast is honestly fascinating to me. Because while both Anita and Tim have been shown to be incredibly loyal individuals, this exchange really highlights the fact that, between the two of them, Anita is far more likely to engage in this kind of pragmatism when she thinks it's necessary to get the job done

The whole Our Worlds at War arc actually does a really good job of illustrating how both of them react to betrayal from within. It's not just the Batman Files conflict either -- I'm thinking specifically about the hallucination-based torture Granny Goodness put them through, which showed them their worst fears. Most of the team ended up having to watch their loved ones die, but what's super interesting to me is that we really only see Anita and Tim hallucinate that their loved ones blame them for their deaths:

[Young Justice (1998) #37]

Like. It's not the same as a teammate turning evil at all. But it does give us a good idea of how they'd both react when faced with a friend or teammate doing harmful things, albeit on a smaller scale. Because where Tim kind of just accepts Superboy yelling at him and moves straight into bargaining for Kon's life, Anita actually flips the script, gets angry, and defends herself against her father:

[Young Justice (1998) #37]

(she actually gets so righteously pissed off that she manages to break out of the VR simulation Granny Goodness had her trapped in, but that's another point)

But yeah, it's super interesting, because by this point, both Anita and Tim have been set up to be very similar characters. They both can be a little bit obsessive, they both have some issues with boundaries and stalking (Tim with Nightwing and Batman, Anita with Cissie), and of the team, they're both portrayed as the "normal" members (Anita does technically have mind control powers but she barely ever uses them, and in a fight, she's basically just a very good, human-level fighter)

But at the end of the day, though Batman forces Robin to put on a cool front of objectivity, Tim (at least in his pre-grief-spiral era) ultimately wants to see the best in his team. When the people he cares about screw up, he wants to give them second chances. And when that trust gets broken, his first instinct is to try to use diplomacy, or, failing that, simply remove himself from the situation (as we see at the end of the Our Worlds at War arc when he quits the team)

Anita, on the other hand, while still incredibly loyal, does not hand out that loyalty unconditionally. We see this when she tries to keep her identity secret from the YJ squad, we see it when she gets pissed in Granny Goodness's hallucination when her father blames her for her mother's death, and we see it when she later blames Secret for her perceived role in Anita's father's death

Anita also happens to sit right smack dab in the middle of the YJ morality scale; while she's generally pretty chill and willing to abide by typical superhero codes of ethics (unlike Slobo and Secret), she's also been shown to bend those rules when she believes it's necessary (as seen here when she tortures and threatens to kill a man for trying to hurt Cissie). Ultimately, what this means is, between Tim and Anita, it's honestly Anita who'd probably be the most willing to put her personal qualms aside, buckle down, and go against her loved ones if it was the only reasonable option

Anyway. This is a really long-winded way of saying I think Gun Batman's biggest nemesis should be Empress

[lustsickforyou]

what side are you on?

sirius black x reader (romantic, to platonic) regulus black x reader (romantic, eventually) james potter x reader (if you squint)

summary: you were born into a pureblood family and taught a special ability since birth, you’ve been used your whole life and you start to want a change.

warnings: arranged marriage, abusive parents, talks of miscarriage, mentions of death, angst

a/n: basing the power off of a heart renderer from shadow and bone, so credits do that. i also added in a scene from call me by your name because i couldn’t resist. will be a multi part series. reader is slytherin.

part one , part two

Life hadn’t always been easy for you, it was something that seemed so normal at this point. You were born into a pureblood family, one of the sacred twenty eight. When your mother married your father they placed the expectation for her to bare his heir just as they did to everyone else. Your mother tried so hard to perform her duty, but pregnancy after pregnancy she had failed to do so, even though it wasn’t her fault. Each child that she had lost picked away at her soul, and she swore the last time she was pregnant that she would be done after that. She never even wanted kids in the first place.

That’s when you came along, a healthy daughter, but hardly what her husband had wished for. This daughter couldn’t carry on the family name. Your mother was so displeased with herself, the secrets the woman would share in whispers across the board got to her. So in attempt to save herself and her husband from their reputation being ruined, she made a deal with the devil. Tom Riddle himself. She swore that she would train her daughter to become a heart render at his own expense if he would marry her off to a respectable family. He, of course— agreed.

Heart renderers were rare, just like a legilimens. It was hard to perfect, but with you at home every day as a child and with lots of consequences if you did not perform to your mother’s liking, you mastered the art. You could do a plethora of things, both good and bad. You could make someone’s blood boil, get them to do whatever you wanted, get them to say things they would never normally say aloud. But you could also soothe a temper, calm someones heart rate, keep them warm. It was a blessing and a curse.

You were presented to Tom Riddle when you were eight, and he held up to his deal. Use you in exchange for a husband who had a well known name, that being Sirius Black. You two were to be married when you turn eighteen. The two of you spent a lot of time together at home, but rarely ever in school. He was a Gryffindor boy who was out of control, you were a Slytherin girl who kept to herself. Tom and his parents hoped this marriage would keep Sirius in line.

Many people at school feared you, in fact Dumbledore gave strict instructions for you to never use you powers in school. You understood this, followed the rules. The students didn’t understand, and would often say nasty things about you and your special abilities. How you were untrustworthy, that they needed to keep a distance from you for their own safety. You had never given them a reason to be scared, and yet here you were. Cursed with a power that only you saw could be good, but many found deceptive.

Now you were in your seventh year, used for your powers by Tom whenever he pleased, and Sirius had gone off the rails, leaving his family behind and the promise he gave to you along with them. Just before he left his home he came to you, he saw the good in you. Tried to convince you to run off with him for a better life, but you knew you couldn’t.

“Come with me, y/n.” he pleaded, looking down at you with hopeful eyes. You shook your head, stepping back from him. You wanted nothing more than to leave, to finally free yourself from not only your mother’s tight grip on you but Tom’s as well. “I can��t.” you whispered with tears in your eyes. Tom would kill you if you left, he had threatened it plenty of times when he noticed you grew weary of the things he made you do, the people he made you hurt. “Why?” Sirius tried to dig deeper, hopefully to make you realize that there was no reason why you shouldn’t go. “I can’t.” you repeated shakily. Everything in you was screaming to run, but you knew what Tom would do. He would hunt anyone you ever cared about, saving you for last before casting the unforgivable curse and take your life. Sirius stepped towards you. “Please.” he begged. You stepped back again, holding your hands up. The two of you turned your head when you heard footsteps coming down the hallway, you mother calling your name. You pushed him forward quickly. “Go.” you whispered with urgency. “Please come with me.” he pleaded. You held his arms in your hands and pushed him again. “Go.” you repeated but this time much more firm. With that he was gone, and you hadn’t seen him for months.

Now you sat by yourself at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. You looked down at the book Sirius gifted to you on your eighteenth birthday just days before he left. It was a muggle book full of poems, something James had shown to him. You two had each other’s backs in the hardest of times. You understood each other on a different level. When he would panic, you would soothe his heart rate. When you would cry he would be there to comfort you. You nervously tapped your finger on the table, turning to see Sirius enter the Great Hall with his friends. They called themselves the Marauders, proud of the shenanigans the four got up to. You didn’t like them, mainly because you were jealous of them. James Potter was from a pureblood family, but nothing like yours. They were loving and kind. Remus was a half-blood boy that was far too good for this world, and Peter was a half-blood as well who was quiet and reserved. They got along with each other so well, you wondered if that’s where Sirius ran off to. To be with them.

Sirius’ eyes scanned the room, and they landed on his brother Regulus. You knew it must’ve been hard for him to leave his brother behind, but then again they were completely different. Unlike Sirius, Regulus was fully devoted to his work with the Dark Lord. You and him rarely ever spoke, mostly because you thought he may be afraid of you. Sirius turned away and sat down with his friends, but you noticed how every so often he would look towards the Slytherin table. Suddenly he stood up, making some excuse to leave his friends, and headed off down the hallway. You took this as your chance to speak with him, standing up and chasing after him.

“Sirius!” you called after him and he stopped in his tracks, turning around with tears in his eyes. “How are you?” you asked politely. “Good.” he lied to your face, but he knew that you knew how he felt. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, another perk to being a heart renderer. “I— I read the book that you gave to me. The muggle one.” you tried to change the subject, but you couldn’t drop the fact that he was upset. “The poems, they’re really beautiful.” you commented. Sirius only stared at you. “I’m sorry that you’re sad.” you said softly, you always had a way with your words. You knew he was upset about seeing Regulus after months apart, you knew it stung. “I’m saying that because I wanted to tell you that I’m not mad at you for leaving. Not at all.” you explained. You would’ve left too, so why would you ever be mad at him for doing what you couldn’t? “I love you, Sirius.” you breathed out. You didn’t love him in the way many would expect. Sure you had a crush on him as a kid, but you knew the two of you would never work out. You had love for him, though. You held out your hand for him to shake on a deal. “Stay friends?” you asked even though it was a lie. You couldn’t live a double life, that would only put him and yourself in danger. Sirius knew that too. “For life?” he questioned.

You must’ve been ten, maybe eleven— playing in the woods behind your childhood home. You would play there for hours with Sirius. It was a peaceful place, no parents to scold the two of you, just you and him always. You tripped over a rock, hitting your knees on the ground making you cry at the pain. “It’s okay, I’m here.” Sirius comforted you. “For life?” you asked and he nodded. “For life.” he confirmed.

“For life.” you smiled, and he took your hand to shake it. He pulled you in for a hug, signaling he knew it couldn’t happen. You hugged him back, and soon after he pulled away. He stared at you, his eyes flicking between both of yours. He cleared his throat before walking off, leaving you standing alone in the hallway.

—

Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter sat in the room of requirement. The year before Dumbledore recruited them to join the Order, a cause to fight for freedom and away from the grips of the Dark Lord. They had been tasked by Albus to speak with a wizard who worked under Tom Riddle, a man who knew anything and everything about their upcoming plans. The only problem was the Marauders were having a hard time figuring out a plan. Once they reached this man during the fall break, they wondered how they would get him to rat out his boss without force. They never had any ill intention, that included torturing this man into speaking. Well— Remus and James had no ill intent. Sirius understood how evil the Dark Lord was, and he wouldn’t draw the line at anything if it meant taking him down. Peter often agreed with Sirius.

“You know what would make this easier?” Remus asked, turning towards the group with folded arms. “What?” James sighed, rubbing his face in annoyance. They had been going back and forth with ideas for hours. They could dress up in a Death Eater’s uniform and pretend they were on his side, but that wouldn’t work. This man was smart enough to know who was and wasn’t apart of the Death Eaters. They could torture him, but that was off the table. They could simply just ask, but when would that ever work? “If we had a heart render.” Remus shrugged and Sirius shook his head. “Absolutely not, y/n is off the table and there’s no way we’re going to find a heart render in time.” he was quick to speak up.

“Why exactly is she off the table?” Remus had peaked James’ interest. “Because I know her, and her family. Her family is like mine but a million times worse.” Sirius explained. “I don’t know about a million—” Peter mumbled and Sirius shot him a glare, making him go quiet. Everyone stared at Sirius with begging looks. “I’m serious, she works directly under Voldemort. She wouldn’t take the shot to betray him even if she had the chance.” he recalled to when he pleaded with her to go with him, and she wouldn’t. “That’s why she was taught heart render powers from a young age, she was literally born to work for him.” Sirius continued. “It doesn’t help that she’s gorgeous.” James added which earned a punch to his arm from Sirius. “Okay, ouch.” James grumbled.

“Okay, so maybe she was born for it. But let’s look at it from her stand point. I mean she was born and taught by her sadistic mother, traded off like she was nothing. Maybe she had no other choice.” Remus tried to be understanding. Sirius had told them all about your story. James pointed at him with raised eyebrows in agreement. “I mean think about it, Sirius. She’s a pureblood Slytherin girl who chooses not to associate herself with the Death Eaters at this school. Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr. She won’t even look at them. Maybe there’s some good in her.” Remus continued. Sirius scoffed. “Trust me, there’s not.” Sirius mumbled and stood up. “We’ll find another way, but y/n is not it.” Sirius said sternly and they all slowly nodded, all except for James. Soon after everyone went back to their dorm and headed to bed for the night. James laid awake, tossing and turning. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head, you could help them. He had been told no on a multitude of occasions, but when has that ever stopped him?

—

A week had passed and the four boys walked down the hallway after their classes, all heading for the Gryffindor common room. James turned towards them just as they passed the library, spotting you sitting by yourself inside. This was his chance. “I have to go to— bye!” he lied terribly, running off from them. “What was that about?” Peter asked and Remus laughed. “He probably saw Lily or something.” he teased. James rolled his eyes behind them.

James entered the library, hesitantly walking over to you. You were sitting quite peacefully reading your book. James pulled out the chair next to you. “Hello, y/n. Looking as beautiful as ever.” he complimented and you looked up from your book with a confused and annoyed expression. He stared back and after a beat of silence you finally spoke. “Okay.” you sighed, closing your book and grabbing your things to leave. “No wait, you don’t have to leave!” he spoke up and you turned towards him again. “I’m not a fool, Potter. You clearly want something.” you said in detest. “Okay, fine. I want something.” he finally admitted. “What’s that?” you questioned with an annoyed tone. “I want to know more about heart renderers. Everyone says their so bad but— you don’t seem all that bad to me. I’ve never even see you use it against anyone. Or use it at all.” he shrugged. “So what does someone of your nature do?” he asked. “I think you know.” you sighed. “There has to be some good to it, every horrible thing must have a balance.” James almost begged to know.

You finally gave in. “Okay— I can soothe someone’s temper, slow their heart and make them relax. Which clearly you need because I can hear your heart beating loudly.” you pointed out. “You can hear my heart?” he asked curiously. “I can hear everyone���s. Who is this Lily Evans by the way, every time someone says her name your heart beats quickly.” she observed. “Wait— how do you know that?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and finally set down your book. “When you walked in here Remus said Lily Evans, and your heart quickened in pace.” you teased.

“That’s not important.” James mumbled. “If my heart is beating fast then show me how you calm it.” he asked. “Show me how you can get someone to tell you anything just like Sirius says.” James was trying to gain her trust, to show her he wasn’t afraid like everyone else was. “I can’t, I’m not allowed to on school grounds.” you leaned back in your chair. “No one has to know.” James smirked and you stared at him for a second. He wasn’t lying, and he definitely seemed curious about your power. “Give me your hand.” you gave in. James held out his hand palm up. Your slim fingers trailed down his cold hand, everything seemed to suddenly move slow. His heart beat was loud in your ears, and once your fingers reached his wrist and you touched his pulse, it slowed down to a calming rate. “Tell me what you want.” you spoke softly, your buttery smooth voice being the only thing he could hear. He looked into your eyes, before opening his mouth to speak before he even had the chance to stop.

“I need a heart render, give you the chance to do some good in this world.” he answered honestly. You pulled away and thought for a moment. This was your chance, a safe distance away from Tom Riddle and your mother. This was your chance to finally do some good i with your power. You knew you could trust James, Sirius sure did. They were apart of the Order, something you had grown familiar with when Sirius would tell you about it late hours of the night. This whole thing, him needing a heart renderer, had to do with something like that.

“I’m in.”

—

James walked into the room of requirement for their weekly meeting, a proud smile on his face. “I found a heart renderer.” he said confidently. “What? How did you find—” Peter started but was quickly interrupted when you walked in behind him. “Y/N Y/L/N at your service.” you smiled and everyone had a shocked look on their face, Sirius was no exception. “Y/N Y/L/N?” Both Peter and Remus said aloud. You laughed, moving across the room to face all four boys. “I’ve never had that reaction before.” you smiled which quickly faded when you saw the look on Sirius’ face.

“What are you doing here?” he deadpanned. “I’m here to help.” you shrugged. “James here found me in the library and gave me the whole run down on your little issue here.” you looked towards James who still looked incredibly proud at his doings. “What the hell were you thinking, James? She’s dangerous!” Sirius yelled and you looked over at him with a hurt expression. “You didn’t seem to think so when you came to me to calm yourself down.” you exposed him and he glared at you.

“Listen, we could really use her help.” Remus interjected, and Sirius rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean this to come off rude, but how do we know we can trust you?” Peter asked and you looked at him now. “I mean— don’t you work for you know who?” he asked. “It was more like a limited partnership.” you explained without really having to say much. Everyone fell silent. “Listen, if I was really that devoted to Tom Riddle I definitely would not be helping you idiots get valuable information on him. Yet here I stand.” you held out your arms.

“Okay, so say we can trust you. How do we know you won’t rat us out.” Remus asked and you stared at him before sighing. “I have been used by him my whole life, and never have I been given the chance to actually use these abilities for the better benefit of actually helping people. I think the Order can do just that. I know you’re all suspicious of me, maybe you think I’m using my powers on you right now to trick you, but trust me— you would know.”

“She’s right, it’s like a whole other experience.” James laughed and they all turned quickly to look at him. “She used her powers on you?” Sirius asked in shock. “Of course she did, and let me tell you, whatever she did to me will definitely work on that guy we’re trying to talk to.” James defended your case, something you had never experienced before. “Thank you, James. That was really kind.” you smiled and he nodded. “Fine, but after this you’re done.” Sirius was still suspicious.

“Great! When do we start?”

[theblueflower05]

Heavy In Your Arms

A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.

Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader

I was a heavy heart to carry,

My beloved was weighted down.

My arms around his neck,

My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine

Life can change in an instant.

One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.

You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.

Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.

That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.

Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.

By war.

High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.

It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.

The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.

You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.

It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.

It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.

The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.

You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.

The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle

This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.

But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.

You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.

Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.

Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.

You dont know if you could survive it…

Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?

The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.

“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”

“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”

“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”

Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”

You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.

Everyone has gotten good at pretending.

At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-

You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.

Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.

“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.

“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”

You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.

“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.

She looks so much like her brother it hurts.

“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”

Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.

You figure, maybe you can distract her too.

You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-

You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.

“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”

She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.

The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-

The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.

Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.

There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.

Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”

Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.

“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.

The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.

Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-

Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.

“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.

Your eyes follow her,

Straight to him.

Neteyam.

He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.

When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.

Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-

“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.

-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.

It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.

You’re unwelcome.

The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.

“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”

Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.

You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-

You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.

The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.

You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.

Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.

It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.

You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.

That is what you told yourself at least.

This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.

It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.

That wouldnt be you.

For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.

You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.

So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.

You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-

Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.

Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.

“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.

As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.

“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”

He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”

“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”

Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”

You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.

The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.

“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”

“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”

Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-

“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.

Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”

You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.

It’s the perfect excuse.

“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”

A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.

“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”

You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.

“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”

Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.

You’re being so stupid.

Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-

You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.

“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”

He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.

“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.

It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”

And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.

Its always so good.

His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.

His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-

And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.

“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”

He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”

“Im hurting you” you argue.

“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”

You frown.

He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”

Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”

“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”

You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.

“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”

Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”

It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.

The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.

You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.

You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.

“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.

“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.

It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.

But oh, its your favorite thing.

Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.

You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.

“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”

“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”

You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.

You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.

He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.

“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”

Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.

You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.

When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-

“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-

You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.

His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-

“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”

Ah.

Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.

You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.

When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.

“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”

His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.

“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.

He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”

You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.

With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.

You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.

“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.

That is what you adore the most.

The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.

You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..

You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.

It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.

“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.

“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.

It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”

He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.

It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.

You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.

You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.

Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that

“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.

It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.

“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”

He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”

You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.

“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.

And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”

“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”

“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”

He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.

“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.

“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.

Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.

You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”

Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.

Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.

The afterglow is your favorite.

Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-

It’s not fair,

How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?

The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.

“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”

You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”

You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”

“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.

“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.

“I promise”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.

They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.

The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.

You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.

When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.

Neteyam leaves.

You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.

I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.

This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.

As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!

Love ya, pretty babies!

[thousand-winters]

Something I love about TOH is how it lets adults be wrong and make mistakes and be whole messes that do not have their shit together because... yeah, that's just life. Adults aren't so put together as one believes when they're a child, and of course they can act rashly and fuck up because of their emotions and generally experience the entire spectrum of human emotion.

It would be lovely if the fandom would be less racist about it tho.

It keeps driving me mad to think about because with characters of color, one mistake is taken and generalized as their entire behavior despite having proof that it was a one time thing, a extreme born out of emotion or after many things have happened, while for white characters it's well understood it was a one time instance.

Nobody took Eda's "I'm going to break every bone of your body" toward King (who, mind you, is like 8yo and the kid she raised since he was a baby) seriously, nor said "Eda totally threatens King with bodily harm every time she's angry". It wasn't a serious threat, King wasn't bothered by her because he knew that, and the world kept spinning, nobody made a bigger deal of that than it had to be, despite the fact that it's objectively a horrible thing to say to your kid.

Nobody said either "every time Eda is feeling unneeded, she avoids talking to her kids and ignores them for days and then attempts murder-suicide on the name of good", although the avoidance aspect of it at least IS more in tune with her general lack of coping mechanisms.

Now, Camila making Luz go to camp? Suddenly she was the devil and evil, and Eda should take full custody of Luz, despite the fact Camila was shown as gentle and loving since moment one, and your kid endangering other kids by bringing live snakes and fireworks to school is objectively something alarming that can't be swept under the rug. There was no point at which Camila was depicted as anything but loving and concerned, even during Grom, Luz's fear was about hurting Camila rather than Camila hurting her and yet people insisted she was abusive until Thanks to Them.

Even after Yesterday's Lie. I mean, Luz is 14. I don't know about you, but if I had a kid known for being a bit careless and reckless and act first before thinking, I would be worried sick knowing she's in a land where half the things alive try to eat you and it's also ruled by a genocidal emperor. Hell, even if my kid wasn't reckless, I would be clawing at the walls about it. Camila wasn't being evil for wanting Luz to stay by her side, especially since they only had each other.

Then, of course, there's Darius.

I'm so sick of people being condescending to people who like Dadrius, even in art posts, all like "guys, but don't forget Darius was shitty to Hunter for years", because it's exactly what I'm talking about of taking one event and extrapolating it toward his entire behavior despite the fact the information we have been provided indicates that was a one time thing. Not only we have the Palisman Logs that confirm Darius usually didn't pay attention to Hunter, which, mind you, isn't a crime because he had no responsibility over Hunter and everyone thought Hunter was being treated well by Belos, but we also have the hint of Darius reacting so viciously because of Hunter sewing the Golden Guard's sigil on his cloak and reminding him of his mentor, which is not something that happened every thursday.

I know everyone understands actions born out of emotion in adults, no matter how wrong they are, because of Eda and even some of the other adults who objectively speaking did way worse in the matter of mistakes toward their children, like Gwen or Alador. Yet, people keep refusing to believe that Darius only did that once but nobody ever says "yes, here are the examples and clues that he was this way for years" (because they do not exist) and just keep repeating that he did or that he has the vibes of someone who did (bestie, that's just racism).

It's so strange because Hunter is not stupid. He knew to be on guard of Kikimora and Kikimora was always shitty to him. He can take a clue, he's not a baby. He refused to accept the help of the Owl Fam and the Hexsquad for a good while because they were "the enemy" and in his head he had the idea that he shouldn't trust them even if he wanted to. Hunter's behavior is affected deeply by Belos' abuse, but he wasn't reacting to everyone in the way he did to Belos, excusing their behavior and generally letting them all walk all over him.

If Darius really had picked on him for years, he wouldn't have been so quick to trust him after Any Sport in a Storm, and we got a bunch of little mentions and hints that point to how their bond started to grow behind curtains, which would be really weird if Darius had always been an overly hostile presence in Hunter's life before. Can you imagine him being all chill with Kikimora if she had hypothetically went "oh, well, I guess I was wrong for trying to murder you"? Hell no.

Even Perry and the Parks didn't got spared from this.

Of course their reactions to their kids getting expelled could have been more graceful, but they were evidently not thinking super clearly at the moment and every other moment we've seen them with their kids, they have been loving and supportive. Hell, even in that same episode we saw how the Parks were, if anything, more concerned about Willow's education to the point they were willing to change their whole life to be able to stay to homeschool her.

Adults make mistakes. People make mistakes.

Stop acting like people of color can't make mistakes without being the epitome of evil.

[llondonfog]

No pls 😭 i hate the idea that raising Silver was a fun experiment out of curiosity to see if he could love a human or not, and that the answer still isnt clear. I hate the idea of Silver, the son of their enemy, being raised to be nothing but a soldier to serve Malleus in some poetic irony. I feel there’s love there but I’ve almost been transported into Silver’s mind where everything is melancholy and unclear. Does he matter as much as I believe he does 😭😭😭 or is it just a cruel tale of some foundling human always meant to be put somewhere else when the fairies are done with them

The thing is, is Silver capable of accepting the fact that Lilia's happiest moment is Malleus' hatching? Yeah, of course, who wouldn't. The man suffered for years, absolutely driven mad with guilt over Meleanor's death and the fear that he wouldn't be able to keep his promise and hatch the one thing that remained of her, the proof of her existence and love. He had to hatch Malleus, because Meleanor believed that he could, that he somehow carried enough love in those tired, aching, and emptied bones, a love that she saw in him when he couldn't even believe it of himself. If he couldn't, it would be one more insult to her name, a failure yet again, a last betrayal of her trust that he couldn't afford and wouldn't survive.

So that weeping? He's so damn dizzy with relief and love and affection for this silly creature inside that's a symbol of the love of the most important people in his life, how could one react in any other way? How fragile and vulnerable, to know that the happiest moment in Lilia's life is to realize after hundreds of years, he was capable of that love all along.

And Silver sees this— he sees the lengths that Lilia went to in order to hatch Malleus, the horrible abuse he stoically suffered from the Senate, the massive disrespect for all that he had lost and sacrificed. Of course he'd accept that this is Lilia's pivotal moment, the bittersweet reward for centuries of despair.

But on the other hand, Silver; a boy who has lost equally, if not more. He's been cast out of his own time, four hundred years into the future, where everyone and anyone who might have known him or his family (save for Lilia) has been long since dead, the kingdom he might have ruled long crumbled to dust. Is it even a footnote in the history textbook he reads? Is there any mention of the Knight of Dawn, of Princess Leia? Anything at all besides the ring in his hand and Lilia's memories to prove that they existed, that they were real, that they loved and wanted him as much as Meleanor had loved Malleus?

All he has, all he's known, is Lilia. Lilia, who found him, who woke him from the spell as the one fated to truly love him. Lilia who thought of killing him upon learning who had sired him, Lilia who raised him to be a guard, to serve those his father once stood against. Lilia who wondered if he could ever love a human, a question that I agree hasn't fully been answered (or acknowledged by Lilia himself) if we are to associate the fact Silver still bears the effects of the sleeping curse with the belief that either Lilia hasn't called him his son and confessed his love, or if Silver still struggles with self-love himself (and we can get into a whole debate over his self-worth and his view as a sacrificial tool, that's an endless discussion).

Lilia . . . whose happiest moment has nothing to do with the boy who calls himself Lilia's one and only son.

And regardless of how I fully understand why Malleus' hatching is that moment, it's still so fucking sad to me.

Your whole life is centered around this one person whom you love more than anyone else— your short, human life— and in reality, you didn't even feature in that person's dream. We only saw Silver's past due to the blot, memories that were completely out of order and not in sync with Lilia's true dream at all.

And Silver will never harbor resentment over this, he will always place his family and loved ones first, but damn it, I can be a little miserable about it. All that trauma we went through with the last update, and now we learn that finding Silver and learning to love the son of his greatest enemy (the son of the person that killed Meleanor!) wasn't Lilia's happiest moment?

Was it just for the poetic irony? I really hope not. I really hope that TWST gives the conversation that Lilia and Silver need to have the due gravity it deserves, because Lilia needs, whether Silver realizes it or not, to look that boy in the eye and tell him that he loves him, he's always been his son, and no matter what their pasts may show, he's been Silver Vanrouge all along.

[writersdare]

In the Hands of Two | Bang Chan 방찬

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Chan was grateful for Y/N gifting such strong feelings, but at some point it became unbearable to carry them alone.

Warning: friends to lovers

Requested: yes

Word Count: 1 510

Author’s Note:  I miss describing emotions and deep thoughts of characters, so this one is rather special. I hope you'll like it ♡ Remember, your engagement helps so-so much!

To love someone… was it a blessing or a curse? Chan couldn’t exactly figure it out. The guy was grateful for Y/N gifting him such emotions. The feeling like everything was possible, like he could do it all at once and never get tired. He genially was happy to finally go through something that he only read and fantasised about before, and Chan could bet his life that it was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced. However, even the most perfect things tended to have their “buts”. In fact, the “but” was a big one, the size of Seoul’s skyscrapers — Y/N was his friend. The constant thought of that fact made Chan’s heart fall on the ground and never come back to a normal beat. How could he mess up so much? It was the most basic and trivial rule the guy shouldn’t have broken, yet, he did. 

Chan couldn’t exactly recall the moment when he realised he fell for her completely. It was happening gradually and then collapsed to the idol suddenly, with all the weight of those unbearable feelings. Funny how love could be so easy when was held by two, and how heavy it was once it was in the hands of only one person. 

The guy’s mood was swinging worse than seesaws he used to like so much as a child. One morning he’d be determined to spill everything out, beg Y/N for forgiveness and maybe for a little chance. Another sleepless night Chan would scold himself for being such an idiot, for overlooking the time when he still could stop himself. As if it was possible to control the feelings… As if it was just a silly anger or nerves, tickling the stomach. The problem of love was that it consisted of all feelings at once. Happiness, pain, fear, joy… The guy looked in her eyes and believed he could fly. Another second, when she wasn’t smiling at him but someone else, the feeling was eating him up like worms on a fresh grave. 

Chan couldn’t control his emotions. He’d hate himself for snapping at his members simply because Y/N suddenly paid a bit more attention to them than him. The guy would hate the fact that she was his friend, and that he was so blind in the beginning, when they first met. If he had known it’d be that way, he’d confess right away, avoiding the stupid friend zone. However, all those thoughts of the past didn’t make things any better or easier. The past was the past, and Chan, unfortunately, couldn’t change it.

Could he change the future, though? Could he actually make another dream of his come true? After all, the guy knew how determined he was, always being able to get what he wanted. With the career, no matter how hard it was, the musician usually — well, most of the time — knew which direction to follow. With Y/N it was completely different, and the guy was lost. He used to believe that he liked taking risks, and yet, when it was coming to the confession, his whole body would go numb just thinking of it. 

It became sort of a tradition to be occupied with that mess in his head, days and nights; even when the girl was around. Or especially when she was around. It was harder to keep a secret, and it felt as if Chan was going to burst up any second. 

"Coffee," he smiled and placed a cup of latte with coconut syrup on a table, next to Y/N. The guy felt ridiculous for being so whipped for her, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

"Thank you. Are you reading my mind?" the girl looked up at the friend and smiled. Chan had always been rather attentive, so such gestures were not exactly surprising, however, they did become more frequent recently.

At that moment Chan was ready to give everything to read Y/N mind, indeed. Just to know if she felt the same way about him as he felt about her. Or at least if she liked him not just as a friend. He wished he could read her mind…

"Not exactly, I just know you well enough," the guy grinned and took a seat next to her, trying to look as casual as it was possible. Chan couldn’t stop smiling, though, once Y/N’s pretty lips touched the edge of the cardboard cup carefully. She tasted the drink, trying to figure out the flavour of the syrup, and he wished the girl could know how adorable she looked. With her he started to dream more. In fact… what was stopping him to let Y/N now how wonderful she was?

"You’re so pretty," the guy suddenly mumbled. Once the words left his mouth, the idol couldn’t believe he really said it.

Y/N, though, just smiled again and friendly petted Chan’s shoulder.

"You’re always so nice to me."

The musician was ready to scream. No, he needed to scream. To hell with the voice, he needed to let it all out, otherwise he’d just explode. 

"Right," was his only reply. The guy’s ears turned red, and he looked at the screen of his laptop, trying to concentrate on a song. Y/N joined him in the studio that day to be the first listener of a demo. Most of the time Chan’s head was full of music, but at that moment he didn’t feel so creative.

The guy sighed heavily and stood up sharply, starting to walk back and forth and trying to reason himself – he needed to calm down.

"Chan, what’s wrong?" Y/N chuckled, although wasn’t sure if it was okay to laugh. No matter how cute the friend looked, she could read anxiety on his face, too.

The idol suddenly stopped and simply spilled out, staring at Y/N.

"Would you finally acknowledge my feelings for you if I kiss you right now? You’re so bad at taking hints," he growled, getting angry at Y/N, at himself, at basically the whole situation he happened to be in. 

"What?" Y/N blinked, and the heart skipped its beat. She was staring back at Chan and couldn’t believe her ears. Literally, as once the words of confession were uttered, it became very noisy, her ears were ringing.

"I like you, Y/N," Chan whined, throwing hands up to the ceiling, being simply desperate.

He couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he simply couldn’t. "If she was going to scream at me or ask how could I, how could I break the basic rule of the friendship," he thought. "So be it." It was worth it all. One more day with that huge secret in his heart, and he’d go crazy. 

However, once he let it out, a wave of fear covered the guy from top to bottom. He messed up again, maybe even more than before.

"Y/N…"

"Chan…"

"No-no… I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have," the guy squatted down in front of Y/N and covered her palms with his. "Please, just forget it. Just forget it, we still can be friends and–"

"I don’t want to," the girl interrupted, looking in the eyes.

"You don’t?…" Chan mumbled, and his face became paler than usual.

"I don’t want to be just friends," Y/N continued quietly and broke the touch only to change the position of their hands and to cover his palms with hers instead. "I like you, too," she whispered, feeling how everything was shaking inside. Only after saying the truth, Y/N realised that she wasn’t even looking at Chan, being too nervous.

"You do?…" they guy echoed after some time, as if wasn’t sure if he heard her right. Then his lips stretched in a wide smile. "God, I’m such an idiot. I freaked out… Y/N," he giggled anxiously. Chan couldn’t believe that it was real; that finally the love for her wasn’t so heavy. Cause she took the part in her hands, too…

"I was scared, too," Y/N admitted. "We were always… close, but I know how career is important to you, and I didn’t… think… us, being more than friends, would be possible."

"It is. It is possible," Chan hurried up to reassure, looking at her eyes. "Can I kiss you?" he almost whispered, feeling the warmth spreading all over his body.

The only one regret the guy had was not being brave enough to tell Y/N everything earlier. The fear and worries were long gone, as if he had never experienced it at all. Funny how things could be easily forgotten. Not the feelings, though. They stay in the hearts until the very end.

"You threatened me with it twice today, but still didn’t do it," she teased him, but not for too long. Another second the guy took a seat next to Y/N and, pulling her closer, simply pressed the lips against hers in a tender kiss. 

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, found them here @gnabnahc –

taglist: @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @skz-streamer

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

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[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 7 thoughts

(voice cracking) hey guys. how are you doing? because i’m fine. actually super incredibly fine. have never been better, in fact. (heavy on the /s)

this episode feels so final, in a way. there is before this episode and after it, and there is no going back. and we have had plenty of those episodes that involve a shedding of innocence, but we’ll reach a point where you think, surely it cannot get worse than this. and you’ll never guess what happens next: somehow, it does.

sniffs. scully always chooses love, bro. and mulder chooses her and therefore chooses love. and they choose each other. and they deserve to be happy, to be a happy little family.

take me back to around 14 hours ago, when i pressed play on this episode immediately after watching the previous one, not even bothering to make this writeup until now, because i was too invested:

okay. so yes. i broke my rule and i’m watching this episode right away. and yes i feel sick.  (author’s note to past self: girl if you felt sick then imagine how you feel now LMAOOOO)

“it begins where it ends…. in nothingness. a nightmare born from deepest fears, coming to me unguarded” <- girl what are we opening with? she's in these black robes, striding across sand...

is she looking at death itself??? again?? how many times must this happen??? is SHE death itself???

she picks up her necklace… and declares herself alone, as ever. but you're not alone, scully!

bum bum bum bum… intro time… 

mulder, please come and provide emotional support if nothing else. you are desperately needed

YES, HE IS HERE!!!!!! he is watching scully watch emily color. 

OHHHH MY GOD. hold on. she introduces him to emily as her friend, and he immediately is making funny faces to get emily to laugh. stop. i need to be sedated.

he notices her cross necklace on emily. and he doesn't say anything but he doesn't need to, because that says enough. the cross that hung from his neck when she was gone, returned to her as she returned to life, and now placed around the neck of this little girl.

he had frohike hack into the system to find her surrogate mother omg… frohike is an ally… her birth mother is named anna fugazzi…. fugazzi is a slang term for fake??? he thinks they made a whole fake profile to hide her origins??

oh my god….

mulder is telling her that being around emily is incredibly dangerous; whoever it was that killed her adoptive parents would clearly go after her next. “i can protect her, too” “yeah, but who’s gonna protect you?” <- PLEASE KILL ME IT WOULD HURT LESS

“i’ve considered that, but i‘ve also considered that there’s only one right thing to do” <- ohhh, scully and her Need to do the Morally Correct Thing……… it’ll haunt me forever. she's willing to drop everything she has in her life to give this child a better life. and she didn't even knew she existed until a few days ago.

man, i miss s1 sometimes. bitch take me back…

HE CAME TO TESTIFY AT HER HEARING TO ADOPT HER??? and he says he shouldn’t have come because he doesn’t want to see her hurt like emily's adoptive parents were 😭😭😭 but he did. because he supports her through anything. and he knows that this poor little girl was never supposed to happen.

this man is nervously cracking sunflower seeds outside the hearing room. and bill is glaring at mulder like he didn’t just fly down here to save the day. fuck him for real.

oh, this judge guy is immediately tearing into his facts about the abduction. this never stops happening to mulder when he presents his theories. it must be getting old.

she was gone for four weeks when she was abducted. did we ever know the length of time?? huh. not sure if i picked up on that if we did.

he cannot explain to this guy why anyone would do this to scully and put the child up for adoption, but that is her child!!

“not in any legal definition” “well, if you can show me a precedent for this case, i’d like to see it” <- ohhhh tell him!!!

ohhh my god... “dana has known for quite some time that she can’t bear children. she hasn’t known why. now, however that happened, the fact that she can adopt this child- her own flesh and blood- is something i don’t feel i have the right to question, and i don’t believe anybody has the right to stand in the way of” <- that is best friendship. they love each other so terribly. terrible in the sense of a storm, or a natural disaster, in the sense of love being a force

oh my god man hold on. hold on. so had they talked about it before?? how she couldn't have kids?? and did he tell her why?? i don't think he did, because she is looking on at him with such horror as he shares these facts

there is such a terrible feeling of never being able to go back to before associated with all of this…

mulder is at bill’s house now, fidgeting with their nativity, while scully descends from the stairs. she was helping tara get into bed. oh my god. she loves her family so much.

OHHH the big reveal: “why didn’t you tell me? mulder?” “i never expected this. i thought i was protecting you” <- so she never knew that he knew… which is why she looked so horrified when she heard him say that to the judge…

he thought he was keeping her safe??? because he must have known that these people were willing to kill to keep their experiments in order. it reminds me of when he was at the evil honey farm and the alien said the clone children don't need parents....... the utter lack of humanity...

he says he knew children were being created, but not for who or for what purpose. :(

she gets a call, seemingly with no one on the other end, and with one look he has his phone on him, calling to get it traced. their ability to communicate without language is fascinating. within seconds, he has the location

it’s the children’s center where emily’s being held!!!

so is it still the ghost of melissa calling them somehow?? or is there an informer in there???

they’re at the door of the children's center right away!!!! is someone going to hurt emily????? they barge right in despite it being the middle of the night

emily’s in bed, with a horrific fever. mulder picks her up (oh my god, this made me feel terriblly emotional things) and he notices there is something on her neck.

IT IS A TERRIBLE GREEN POISON LUMPY THING?????

the doctor says there is some kind of infection, and they’re having the thing on her neck biopsied.

there’s an awful pause as they're standing outside the hospital room, and he asks if they are the parents…. mulder steps to the side and lets her say that she is the mother, which is so insane to hear, while mulder watches, terribly worried. 

he watches as they’re about to cut the thing on her neck…. but he realizes it is the green alien blood (which he can see, so NOT red/green colorblind) and starts banging on the door, telling the doctor to get away!!! but she doesn’t listen!!! the doctor collapses right then and there from the exposure to the alien blood gas, while they look on in horror. 

so emily is one of the alien hybrid children... i had thought that those were all clones, but i guess there are some unique ones as well. or maybe the ones we have seen in the past all shape-shift to look the same? CSM, this is your fault. evil has a face and a name and he writes bad fiction.

emily is on a mild sedative, and the ER doctor somehow made it. scully asks mulder how he knew what was going on, and he says he had the doctor put in an ice bath like she did when he was exposed :( he remembered.... :(

the dr. calderon that emily was seeing before refuses to transfer her information over!!! and says that scully has no authority over this child!!!! he is straight up willing to let her die.

she refuses to leave her. 

mulder is sent instead to interrogate him; he asks what he can say to convince dr. calderon to convince him to transfer the files over. but dr. calderon says it’s about business reasons. mulder asks how much money is worth letting this child die.

OHHHHHH HE IS THROWING HANDS….. 

holy fuck, i need a moment. he calls calderon and his team "medical rapists", a term i was previously unfamiliar with, and says now they’re just going to let her DIE??? AND HE PULLS OUT A GUN???

“why don’t you tell me whose life is worth saving, yours or hers!!” <- DAMN!!!

mulder is willing to kill for scully and that baby she just learned existed... i need a moment

he only puts his gun away because the police are at the door… but he’s gonna follow him. 

meanwhile, emily is watching cartoons while scully is in scrubs. she wants to talk to emily… she’s explaining that she has to do some tests. "mommy said no more tests" <- now what does that mean?

they insert the child into the machine. poor scully watches.

god, scully must feel so strange at the moment. and she gets flashbacks to her abduction from hearing the MRI machine beeping….

dr. calderon is running into a fancy gated home. and the other men who were watching scully before are here!!!!! 

OH MY GOD???? THEY STABBED THE DOCTOR'S NECK WITH THE NEEDLE, AND THE GREEN GAS CAME OUT???

and the other one morphed into calderon??? SO THEY’RE THE ALIENS????

but mulder is here……..

(i’m torn between genuine devastation and the sheer absurdity of this plot)

back at the hospital, we learn emily has some sort of infection into her brain that is expanding along her nervous system

and the guy who is pretending to be calderon is here!!!

scully and the real doctor are talking medicine, what can and cannot be done for her.

NO WHAT? THE ALIEN THAT TOOK CALDERON'S FACE IS HERE WITH THE NEEDLE GAS STUFF??? he just left emily's room……

scully's going after this guy, but he switches faces the minute they catch him!!!!!

mulder is still tailing the people from the pharmaceutical company. he tells scully he doesn’t think they want emily dead either, but for different reasons… they want their experiment to work, i assume is what he implies, but he hangs up then to go do some more tailing.

detective kresge is here!!!! scully tells him she thinks these men killed emily's adoptive parents because they stopped doing the tests!!! and that must be why that mysterious man came in to see her!!!!

i’m ready to see some heads roll over this whole matter. 

mulder lets himself into the weird huge gated house he saw dr. calderon go into, which seems to be an nursing home, with a label on a shelf for a. fuggazi. she’s a real person???? and she’s 71 years old???

but now emily is getting worse, with the growth spreading; it is killing her. the doctor says they should be grateful she isn’t in pain. 

chambliss shows up to tell scully that the court is freaked out that she’s making choices for emily, but she points out that she is “a medical doctor, and the decisions that i make are reasonable and right” and we know this to be true!!!

OHHHH MY GOD chambliss says that she has no authority, and scully says that if they take her out of the hospital, she will have it known that all of them are responsible for emily's worsening health…… holy fuck

“what do you want me to tell them you’re doing for her?” “i don’t know yet. but i will” <- she thinks there has to be hope…. :(

frohike is on the phone!!!! mulder is reading the names of the women in the nursing home, while frohike looks them up. and somehow they all gave birth to children in the last few years??? despite being 70+ years old????

and frohike wants to know if they are attractive. mulder says he might have a shot with these ones LMAO <- rare moment of levity in what may be the darkest fucking episode of all time

these elderly women are being prescribed estrogen and progesterone, which are in abundance in pregnant women……….

anna comes to mulder and says she wants to start her beauty sleep??? and it’s taken years off of her appearance??? do the aliens turn them young somehow??? and then use them to have children???

holy fuck. horrific commentary on the intersections of reproductive rights and elder abuse....

emily is now being inserted into a new tube for testing, with scully saying she will be right there the whole time. the air in the tube hurts emily's ears??? and makes her veins pop out??????? she is yelling at the doctor to stop running the test, but i don't even really understand what is going on, beyond that emily cannot handle it

mulder is still at the nursing home, where he finds a bunch of the old women in bed, attached to IVs with the hormones he mentioned earlier!!! so they get the IVs in their sleep and then they... no, it's too disturbing to even say

so he looks in the fridge and inside he finds some papers…. HUH???? it has scully’s name on them???? and inside is ANOTHER BABY IN A TUBE????

what the fuck??? this is messed up!!!!

he also finds vials of the green stuff that you use to kill the aliens!!!! but now the shapeshifting alien guy from before is here!!!! so he's running out with the vials!!! 

but detective kresge is here and stops mulder!!!!! IS THE DETECTIVE WORKING FOR THE ALIENS???

NO!! kresge is trying to keep him safe!!! the alien picks him up and tosses him like a rag doll!!!

but kresge gets up and shoots him despite mulder’s many warnings, so he hisses as his alien body releases that toxic green gas!! NO, KRESGE!! you were mean at first, but i grew to like you!!!

the alien takes kresge’s face and dips while mulder is trying to get backup!!!!!!!!!!!!

poor scully is watching emily through the window; she has gone into a coma. mulder suddenly arrives. but before mulder can say anything, she claims she’s okay. 

“but if you could treat her?” “i wouldn’t. i wouldn’t do it to her” “are you sure?” <- oh my god? is she going to take her off of life support? does she think it is wrong to keep her alive with no quality of life? we know she believes that in her own will... is she realizing there is nothing she can do? and why does she always lead with "i'm okay" when she isn't?

“mulder, whoever brought this child into this world didn’t intend to love her”

“i think she was born to serve an agenda” (a horrific thing for a human to be)

“i have a chance to stop that. you were right. this child was not meant to be”

but she is. she is here. and she doesn't have much longer.

he rubs her back and says he’ll stay with her. STOOOOOP

but she says she’d like to be alone. so he quietly walks away.

oh my god. he was going to stay with her while she watched her baby die... but she said she wanted to do it alone....... 

he still has that one vial of green stuff in his pocket, and pulls it out in the hallway. while she’s going in to presumable say goodbye. she lays her head next to emily, crawling into her bed. oh my god.

then we see a stained glass window of mary holding baby jesus while scully sits in a pew. maggie is here, asking if she’s ready. she tells her she’ll get a ride back with mulder. and she hugs her family, smiling at tara’s new baby, kissing him on the head.

there is a little casket, and scully stares at it as mulder comes in, laying flowers upon it. 

“who are the men who would create a life whose only hope is to die?” “i don’t know. but that you found her… and you had a chance to love her… maybe she was meant for that, too” <- oh my god??? oh my god.

“she found me” “so you could save her” <- and she did save her... she saved her from an unhappy home and unethical experiments and loved her in the week that she knew her, and let her go peacefully instead of suffering....

then she asks about kresge, who somehow made it, but the nursing home has been cleaned out, and no one else knew of calderon’s work. but there is evidence of what they did, she says, staring at the casket. 

she takes the flowers, lifts up the lid, and mulder turns around to give her space. but the casket is empty, except for the cross necklace. which she holds, closing her eyes. so they took her body, too???

the sand… the necklace… the opening scene… the parallels… i’m, like, blubbering as i type this

what the fuck!! who came up with this?? it is so fucked up and horrific and why. why. why. why did they make her undergo that and where do we go from here? no seriously, how is she going to just. clock into work the next day. not knowing she had a daughter except for a single week they had together and then she watched her die.

i honestly think scully is a saint because. if someone told me my autonomy had been taken and they made a baby out of me without my consent, i think i would be horrified and want nothing to do with the poor child. i would think, i have no relation to that little person. it was done without my knowledge, and how can i claim any connection to something i never knew?

(i mean, that is all i can imagine i would do; i know nothing of what it feels like to want or have or learn you have a baby. so keep that fact in mind if i don't fully grasp the weight of everything here. but believe me, what i am grasping is weighty enough)

but she said, i have a baby and i need to love her, because the option to make my own decision was denied, but i need to do the right thing. she just barrels in and loves her. no hesitation. and then she watches her die. 

and what the fuck?? from a writer’s perspective are they just trying to overtly comment on the lack of women’s healthcare?? because this hits different in the current political climate in a way they couldn’t have seen at the time. and i do feel somewhat inspired to write an essay on the subject. and using the elderly women as incubators... holy hell. it really speaks to the lack of agency women have over their own bodies and the terrifying nature of government intervention into women's healthcare...

mulder showing up right away to testify for her… scully being willing to throw her whole career away for a child she never knew she had… i need a few days and maybe a drink.

where do they go from this? how do you move on from learning you have a child, choosing to love it for the week you knew her, and then watching her die? how do you just go hunt bigfoot after that?

i feel like this show throws too many emotional punches and doesn't give us time to let the aftershocks sink in and the grief be processed. i hope that this time we get that chance.

and oh, how tender both of them were with emily... i just know that if they have kids, that child is going to be so loved... i am gonna cry at the thought. because we have always been able to see that mulder wants a family so desperately, but with scully it was more simmering under the surface until it boiled over, and now she knows what that feeling is like, but it was taken away from her and it can never come back, but maybe someday she can find happiness, and they can find happiness together, and raise a little kid who they can hold and carry and read books to and fuck i'm emotional!!!

i'm thinking about how even way back in season 1 we see them dealing with kids and the foreshadowing to this, this glimpse of what could have been in another life, but what isn't in this timeline. and how he was there for her while she waded through entirely incomprehensible emotions. and again i come back to the fact she chose to love this little girl despite having no knowledge of her.

and how they choose to find meaning in that week they knew her, with mulder telling her that she saved emily, that she let her experience love and happiness. to try and find any purpose to their inexplicably cosmic suffering.

fuck!!!

as always, please tell me what you think!!! what was your reaction when you saw this for the first time?? what was the reaction of the wider public? did you also cry a million tears? did you also cry at the mental image of them having a little baby? has your perception of the episode changed over time? if you have kids now do you cry even more? will chris carter ever work on whatever it is he has going on with making women suffer? i need to know every last detail.

[calisources]

𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍, 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄.

All these quotes are taken from many materials from George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, from members of House Targaryen. You can change location, names and pronouns as you see fit. Some of these are little spicy as well might mention the typical topics of the book like inc*st.

I mounted him and took him for a ride, and I mean to do the same tonight. I love to ride.

Red maidens, the two of us, but now we've both been mounted.

You were made for battles, and I was made for this.

As soon as I am well, let's make another. I want to give you twenty sons. An army of your own!

But you are far braver than me. I would sooner fight a dozen battles than do what you've just done.

He's either brave or mad, that one.

You will be a great king, even greater than your father.

A ruler needs a good head and a true heart. A cock is not essential.

If your Grace truly believes that women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me.

My uncle Maegor was cruel, but age is crueler.

No mother should ever have to burn her child.

I am old as well, but I am still younger than you.

She was his most trusted counselor and his right hand.

Dark Sister was made for nobler tasks than slaughtering sheep. She has a thirst for blood.

The war will end when the heads of the traitors are mounted on spikes above the King's Gate, and not before

Prince Daemon had been the wonder and the terror of his age.

The archmaesters call you the Conciliator, I have heard. It is time that you conciliated.

I have my own kingdom here.

Such a fierce little thing she is, they say, she has no need of comfort. They are wrong in that, I fear. All men need comfort.

She has no interest in kissing games, nor boys. She plays with them as she used to play with her puppies.

I have seen the way she preens and prances around Baelon. That is the husband she desires, and not for love of him.

She wants to be the queen.

How can he rule the Seven Kingdoms when he cannot rule his brother?

Your guards are slow and lazy.

If any man questions my son's right to the Iron Throne, let him prove his claim with his body.

When the sun sets, your line shall end.

A king should never sit easy.

Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice.

Do you think we would name him Aegon the Conqueror today if he had not had dragons?

But we will come again, Princess, and the next time we shall come with fire and blood.

I fed my last husband to my dragon. If you make me take another, I may eat him myself.

We can go back to the ends of the earth together. But I'll get there first, as I'll be flying.

Brother, if it please you, we have brought your new queen.

The sound of the queen's laughter was like music to this fool, so sweet that even the king was known to smile.

The whole realm knew that the girl loved Daeron's bastard brother Daemon Blackfyre, and was loved by him in turn.

Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her.

A hundred years ago, Daenerys Targaryen came to Dorne to make a peace. Now another comes to make a war.

Too many dragons are as dangerous as too few.

I have done my duty by you, and given you an heir.

When Viserys sold their mother's crown, the last joy had gone from him, leaving only rage.

Whenever Aerys gave a man to the flames, Queen Rhaella would have a visitor in the night.

The queen your mother was always mindful of her duty.

I want to be with you, I want to sail the seas and have adventures.

Every knight needs a squire. You look as though you need one more than most.

omeday the dragons will return. My brother Daeron's dreamed of it, and King Aerys read it in a prophecy.

If you cannot manage a horse, fetch me some wine and a pretty wench.

Why did you throw your life away? For this whore? She's scarcely worth it. A traitor. The dragon ought never lose.

She bathes in blood to keep her beauty.

You've known queens and princesses. Did they dance with demons and practice the black arts?

Duels were fought over the right to sit beside her.

She gave him her bed, but never her hand. It amused her more to make him jealous.

I want him dead, the traitor. I want his head, you'll bring me his head, or you'll burn with all the rest. All the traitors.

But a man does not marry his heir to his servant's daughter.

Aerys was mad, the whole realm knew it.

There have always been Targaryens who dreamed of things to come, since long before the Conquest.

[giulolosblackmail]

Willow's Bio

Though Willow is over a century old, he has still lived most of his life in Finsel and formed many meaningful relationships with the humans that live there. It is, perhaps, because of his love of individual humans that he despises humans as a whole. Around eighty years ago Willow came to know a boxer and his daughter living in the slums. The boxer’s daughter fell ill and they couldn’t afford to pay for her treatment, so the boxer began to gamble his life for a chance at saving his daughter, going up against opponents that were far larger and stronger than he was. Inevitably, he was beaten nearly to death and could no longer work. Willow, having not nearly enough money to help them himself, began writing poetry about the boxer and his daughter in a desperate attempt to bring attention to his friend’s situation. The poems became wildly popular among nobles, but the real-life inspirations behind the poems were ignored and died in poverty. Willow decided that humans don’t care about tragedy in the literal, only the theoretical where it serves as entertainment, and - finding the pen to be useless - turned to his much more reliable fists and fell into the Gang Territory. Willow’s worldview changed, and he came to believe that, “although the power of art leads to eternity, but to grasp the present, we must have force. Without the present, there would be no eternity.”

Taking his anger, grief, and frustration out on all those who stood before him by throwing himself recklessly into every fight he could find, Willow created a legend in the Gang Territory and amassed wealth and power. His symbol became the emerald studded brass knuckles that came to be known as the Legendary Seal of the Gang Territory, the weapon of the undefeated Champion of the Underground Arena. Legend has it that when the Gang Territory fell into a turf war fifty years ago, the battle raged for three days in what would later be called the Battle of Gang Territory. And from the chaos rose the victor, the Champion, the man with the ability to command wind and lightning, the strongest warrior in the Gang Territory. Willow won the right to rule, but found that it brought him no joy to amass power or wealth, and so he gave away his wealth freely and shied away from the spotlight; eventually the legend faded into obscurity after the Champion vanished, and now only rumors remain that that once great man has ended up working for a noble. There are many in the slums who remember the Champion not as a warrior, but as a man who gave away everything he owned to friends and strangers alike, who defended the weak with his own fists, bleeding for anyone who could not fight for themselves. It had never been his intention to help, only to find relief for himself. “I just thought they needed those things more than I did. Fighting made me happy enough.” Perhaps that is why he was eventually lured away from the Gang Territory.

A hollow life spent ever in fear of the next conflict and wounded from the last is difficult to maintain, who knows what the Duke Bavlenka of the time promised Willow to buy his loyalty, but Willow has been working under the Bavlenka Family ever since. He became something of a fancy pet, only ever seen draped in finery and singing sweetly for nobles at luxurious balls filled to the brim with wealth and excess. He lived well, but it was a life that made him sick. To cope, he spent all his free time sneaking away to the Slums to drink and fight to excess, even disguising himself to return to the Colosseum in secret. “Singing makes me feel less alone. And fighting, I feel as if I'm truly alive. When your life is almost eternal, time loses its meaning.” It was not until he met Magda Ellenstein that he began to find the dull routine of his life new and exciting again. Striking up a friendship, Willow found himself chasing after Miss Ellenstein as she caused trouble and shook Finsel by its roots, even going into battle during the climax of the Sulla War to help her. The Finsel that emerged from the rubble of war was changed, though it was unclear if it was for the better.

Whatever promise Willow had made with Duke Bavlenka all those years ago must have been somewhat shaken with the late Duke’s death, for Willow began to hide himself away from the new head of house, well enough that it took some time before Duke Gaelan Bavlenka learned of his existence. Willow seemed to hold a particular disdain for Gaelan Bavlenka, though was not alone in his dislike for the man attempting to navigate Finsel’s political landscape with entirely unearned confidence. It was not just Willow’s rebellion chipping away at the Bavlenka family’s united front and social prestige, though his was one of the first to be ended. Eventually Lou Bavlenka dragged him back to his duties, though Willow did not go gently. The first song he sang under the new Bavlenka head was the infamous Cursed Aria, a legendary song among the elves that had largely been lost to time, as no one wished to gamble their life just to perform it. Dedicating his performance to Lady Magda Ellenstein, Willow told her, "Once life loses its meaning, we must find a new one. I never cared about the future. It's unpredictable,” before confessing his love for her in no uncertain terms. It was his conviction and passionate love for Lady Ellenstein that weathered him through the song’s curse, and until his love for her fades, he can sing it as often as she will listen.

Like many others, Willow found himself falling for the charming Miss Ellenstein soon after making her acquaintance, pledging to come whenever she called so that he could fight her battles for her, this being both something of a confession and an attempt to keep Miss Magda from getting into trouble in the Gang Territory. He could only fall for her more as he watched her monumentous rise to power, and would continue to be enthralled by her care for people and her stubborn drive to improve Finsel, bridging the gap between the nobility and the Slums. In an ultimate act of passionate love, Willow placed his life on the line to sing Lady Ellenstein the Cursed Aria, though when she could not find the words to respond, he instead asked her to listen as he kept singing for her and her alone. Regardless of the direction Lady Ellenstein’s heart will follow, Willow will continue to be inspired by her, striving to improve himself as a man and a singer, and go on to dedicate himself to improving the lives of elves in Finsel.

link to wiki page

[astraphone]

day one: joining

i'm extremely late to the party, but i came across the #veilguard30 prompt list and wanted to give it a go! i almost certainly won't finish the list, but i'm going to give it a shot regardless. .5k, gen, aislyn surana.

For all its flaws, the Circle of Magi is a place of learning. Aislyn Surana grew up with an education to rival that of any noble; she knows a good deal about the history of Thedas, the current political climate of Ferelden, the ins-and-outs of theoretical and applied magic.

The Circle is a place for more practical lessons, too, the most important of which is quietly drilled into every mage from the minute they set foot in Kinloch Hold: Never let them see you scared. Don’t show fear to the Templars, because they enjoy holding power over others and cowards are an easy target. Don’t show fear to the senior mages, or they may deem you too weak for a Harrowing and make you Tranquil instead. Don’t even show fear within the privacy of your own mind, lest a demon take advantage.

Aislyn, always a rule-follower, took this lesson to heart and has carried it with her ever since. She didn’t show fear in her Harrowing, she didn’t show fear when forced to leave behind the only life she’d ever known, and she certainly won’t show fear now, on the precipice of becoming a Grey Warden.

She is the last to make the attempt; her two fellow recruits have both already failed. One is dead to the Darkspawn blood, the other struck down by Duncan to keep him from running away. Aislyn’s choices are laid plain before her: join the Wardens or die trying, or say no and die anyway.

Aislyn did not ask to be a Grey Warden, and if she were a different person she might lament that the whole situation is brutally unfair, but she knows better than to waste her breath on such complaints. She recalls advice from Irving, years ago: “For the rest of your life, you will be subject to things you have no say in and no control over. But you can control how you react, and you must never let anyone take that away from you.”

There’s a good chance she will die here, right now, and she can’t control that. But if she does, she can control that she will go with her head held high.

Duncan and Alistair are waiting for her. Alistair looks nervous, as though perhaps he didn’t enjoy watching the first two recruits die either. Duncan looks at her impassively. In one hand is his sword, still dripping with Jory’s blood. In the other is the joining chalice.

Two choices. Aislyn makes the one where she has a chance. She reaches for the goblet.

I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid.

She drinks, and her hands do not shake.

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Blue Castle Book Club 2.0 - Chapter 8

Valancy goes to bed that night, having rudely (“rudely”) told Cousin Stickles that she wouldn’t do as she was told any longer. And she stays up all night remembering her life and coming to terms with how little of it is left.

Fear, John Foster tells us, is the original sin and a wretched way to live. Valancy, in her long night of reckoning, realizes that for the first time in her life she is no longer afraid. She does not fear death and, stemming from that, she does not fear the future either. All her life she has been afraid of the future, stretching out interminably before her, but now it has a termination point, and that termination is imminent. And so she is no longer afraid.

What she is, though, is resentful. Which is not an emotion she has really allowed herself to feel up until this point. She has been policed so strictly that – until now – she has self-policed her thoughts without even being told to. But now she doesn’t care what her family thinks and she doesn’t care about their rules and she is free to have feelings no matter how un-ladylike that activity might be, and none of her feelings are positive. She stays awake all night in a memory spiral that will be intimately familiar to most of us, running through everything bad that’s ever happened on an endless loop.

And boy does she have a lot of memories to choose from, none of them pleasant. During this long night, she cannot think of a single good thing that has ever happened to her. And every time something good might have happened, someone comes along and spoils it, ruining things forever.

(As an aside, I do love her clear-eyed imagining of what her obituary would be like. You can’t really say, no one particularly liked her and she didn’t have any friends or accomplishments in an obituary, so hers absolutely would have been filled with vapid platitudes. And she didn’t even begin thinking of the funeral service, which would be given by Dr. Stalling and probably include words from Uncles James and Wellington and been generally dreadful all round.)

She comes to the conclusion that, “I’ve just been a colourless nonentity,” which I am mostly pulling out because it’s nice when authors confirm for you that the pattern you’ve been tracking is something they did on purpose. But more than that, the colors in Valancy’s life, when they emerge properly, will be deeply associated with nature. Valancy has never been allowed to be in nature – she has spent her whole life stifled in the red brick house filled with dead things and pictures of dead people. For Maud, who has such a clear throughline in all her work about the power and value of being in nature, being colorless is being cut off from the natural world, which is equivalent to being spiritually dead. Valancy isn’t physically dead yet, but in a real way she’s been dead for years already.

Once again, I wish someone had introduced Maud to the idea of magical realism and let her run with it, because there is fantasy hovering just beneath so many of her stories (or just straight up in the text itself, if I understand Emily correctly) and I think she’d have done an incredible job of weaving magic and mundane together.

Valancy catalogs her many disappointments and ends on the final fact that she has never loved anyone in her entire life. Which is a marked shift from a couple chapters back, when the thing she was lamenting was that no one had ever loved her. A subtle but important distinction, and one that will carry forward through the text. Valancy is no longer beholden to the good opinion of others, and so she is now focused on what she herself hasn’t done, as opposed to what hasn’t been done for her. We start the chapter with “not even her mother loved her” and we end it with “I’ve never loved [mother]”. Valancy has gone from object to subject in her own life.

And we end with the only known instance of your 3am feelings being objectively correct. Valancy decides she is done lying and done appeasing and from now on will do nothing that she does not want to do. She quotes a poem called “The Freeman”, by poet Ellen Glasgow, published in 1897: “Despair is a free man—hope is a slave.” (Fun fact: according to Wikipedia, Glasgow suffered from chronic heart problems. No clue if Maud knew that or if it’s just a weird coincidence.)

Here is the poem in full:

THE FREEMAN

“Hope is a slave, Despair is a freeman”

A vagabond between the East and West, Careless I greet the scourging and the rod; I fear no terror any man may bring, Nor any god.

The clankless chains that bound me I have rent No more a slave to hope I cringe or cry; Captives to Fate, men rear their prison walls, But free am I.

I tread where arrows press upon my path, I smile to see the danger and the dart; My breast is bared to meet the slings of hate, But not my heart.

I face the thunder and I face the rain, I lift my head, defiance far I fling— My feet are set, I face the autumn as I face the spring.

Around me, on the battle-fields of life, I see men fight and fail and crouch in prayer; Aloft I stand unfettered, for I know The freedom of despair.

Colors mentioned:

Red moon

Creamy yellow net

Wreath of red roses

Pink dress

All things that colourless Valancy either fears or doesn’t get to have.

[pielove123clan]

Verdell/Marrigold 15

Milly/Boss 13

Millicent/Fleshy 27

Answers are under the cut. It's really half assed and nothings been hashed out. I hope you enjoy reading anyways. I need new ocs. I need better ocs and I need to actually write I feel. I'm just apprehensive about things and getting overly emotional is scary, that includes writing. And if I let my emtions cloud my judgment, it isn't a good story. But again, that's what rough drafts are for. Creativity and writing, at least the best peices in my eyes, are supposed to be expressions of emotions and have a meaning. Fluff without a message, unrisky content, it's utter rubbish. Not to say they don't have their place either and sometimes its nice to turn the brain off, I personally am at risk and WILL AND HAVE overdone it. Over and over, this vapid comfort and fluff, but I struggle to get past that. It's utterly mediocre in my eyes and I need to go higher, do better, but that requires a breakthrough in my own personality, my habits, a lifestyle change and most importantly, effort. There are so many images that I want to show everyone but can I do it respectfully and with the due diligence? Its scary to suffer, its not nice, but a friend told me "everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear". I like that way of seeing things.

Can I really say I want something if I can't suffer a temporary pain enough for it? All I can really do right now is speak but I need action to back those words. I don't trust myself but we'll see whatever happens or comes up.

Thank you anyways for sending me the ask!

15 -Do they trust each other, why or why not?

I think they have a sense of trust between each other but also their secrets from each other, Marigold with her magic shovel and Verdell with his double life being a vigilante. They have not known each other for long but they think the other is pretty nice and upstanding person going to the same university. This isn't 'cannon' but ive held on to the idea of these two being housemates. Marigold is lieing because she doesn't want to get arrested or something because the shovel she has is probably illegal and she doesn't know Verdell that much. Letting him stay was done out out kindness and maybe pitty. Tthe house is emptier with her mother being in the hospital and her father going missing. Verdell is nice enough anyways ( he means well but his eagerness is a tad bit unnerving. was this a bad idea?)

I forgot what crack stuff I typed about vigilantes in this world, its legal as long as your identity is secret and the government will neither help nor interfere unless they become a problem for them? It can vary from state or teritory, whatever community regulations they want. Outwardly, the government won't govern these vigilantes until they become a probem to them. People have powers in this reality, it needs to be registered with their ID by law and it's only requried to be shared with medical professionals and I guess the police departments if requested. This also makes it easy, if you become a threat to the government, they can identify who has the ability or power in that area then they send maybe a special unit. Also, it's illegal to not register if you have an ability.

That being said, powers and abilities are treated like the "don't say gay" law where its 'don't ask, don't tell'. The unspoken rule of this society, most abilities aren't accepted by the and if you use them in person, the community will shun and dislike you. You might even get a misdemenor for causing a disturbance. The exception is if your able to market yourself, be seen as entertaining, talented and contributing to society, but those are only reserved to those who can stand out. Having an alternate idenity, stage name, moniker, those things are the safest.

Verdell is a vigilante and he's keeping his identity secret for the whole, "if my enemies know my secret, they can hurt me and the people I care about!" and he hasn't known Marigold for long. There's weird dents in the walls and some furniture seems hastily duct taped back together, the front door had to be repaired for some reason, but he was lucky enough to be allowed to stay somewhere nice with a roof over his head. Plus, Marigold was nice enough to even let a stranger or aquantince stay in a nice home. Verdell will do anything he can to repay that kindness back. ( Ask me again about this next time because I might re-write things. My brain is feeling murky but now I realize some contradictions and plot holes. Trying to juggle so many traits with him. Verdell doesn't want to be a giant burden so he'll make himself useful and help out in the house and the garden when he can! )

13. Do they have any distain/contempt for each other? How do they show it?

Milly has a lot of distain being tricked into a contract but she has to do it or else she may get blackmailed or go to jail. Organ trafficing and illegal surgeries on individuals is her job now, until she pays every cent of her tuition back through labor. Her hair is grey from this stress, they messed with her body, but outwardly showing contempt or hatred can't be done or it'll jeopardize her future. This is what she gets for wanting to avoid taking out a loan and going into student debt. Ontop of this, she needs to study and do the legitimate work for medical school. She's the black market organizations bitch and she feels utterly helpless. She can't say or do anything.

( that being said, I heard there was a program where the government will pay for your medical schooling if you work x amount of years in a hospital? i didn't know about it at the time of Milly's creation)

Her boss doesn't care, Milly's just another poor sap who's momentarily there for empolyment. She should be greatful their organization is paying for her education, making her dreams come true and setting her for life, all she needs is to play her part as a good little surgeon. They are doing a service letting these ungreatful undergrat brats fufill their clases, it ain't a bad deal having them receive some work experince. They survive their service and get the hell out of there. Milly is undeserving of whatever ability she got out of her surgery, its a waste. They're contemplating transplanting the organ out of her after she's done her service. If that kills her or disables her after the organ adapted to her body for long enough, tough luck. Doesn't matter.

Milly's just a tiny cog in the machine, why would they care? They don't, not even a subject in their mind, just a tiny blip.

27. How far would they go for each other? Would they risk their own lives for each other?

Unflinching for both of them, they would die for each other and risk their lives for each other. Fleshy has anger and violence issues due to where she used to come from and how she was created but shes like 7-8 (age kind of pending but Fleshy is a young child.) Milicent is trying to teach her out of wanting to 'punish' anything that does what she doesn't like.

Its a whole thing because Milicent's a person made up of multiple centipedes who evolved over the course of millions of years, starting back in the carboniferous period of the Earth. There are people after Fleshy so Milicent wouldn't hessitate to poison and consume them. It is self defence. Nothing will harm her adopted child over her dead body.

[kwlsn]

As the youngest princess of the imperial family, it was normal for you to be pampered and spoiled; living in the spotlight and tasting the sweet compliments of everyone who set their eyes on you — except for Haruchiyo.

Ever since you were born and declared as an omega; your family was worried about how everyone was going to perceive that, feeling scared for your future and how it would go when they were no longer around.

The Crown Prince Takeomi was a cold alpha; shed blood in the battlefield ever since he received a title and was given a task to pressure the barbarian at the border by the Emperor. He didn't think about anything including his life, only how he should kill every barbarian who tried to trespass and enter through the border.

He was indifferent to everyone; owning a cold heart and iron fist to rule, supporting the pillar of justice for mostly the plebs and omegas.

The living embodiment of indifferent justice and future King everyone loved.

The second he got called to go back to the capital, he didn't expect that he'd face a newborn; so small that he could actually cover her face with his hand.

The sight of a sleeping Empress and sweating Emperor, holding her hand tight while ushering Takeomi to take a closer look at his new sister; asking him to protect this child's happiness as she was born weak and nearly dead.

"She's an omega."

Takeomi's eyes widened slightly, knowing how hard her future would be when this news was shared to the whole continent, asking his dad to cover it up and said that she was a Beta instead.

Shaking his head, his father placed a hand on Takeomi's shoulder, trying to calm his young child down. While it could be done, he wanted everyone to know that being an omega is not a sin or thing to be ashamed of.

It was a difficult role; not everyone was given a chance to be able to calm everyone almost instantly with their presence or having their aggression (mostly alphas) tamed without any force.

A purifier.

Takeomi decided to keep his opinion inside and took another glance at his young sister, knowing how hard it would be for her as he swore that he'd always do everything to protect her; even if it meant war from his side.

Senju was the first princess known as the 'white rose' and beta. She was kind, respectful and helpful; had her moment of being a playful kid but she knew she had a family to make proud of.

Her father had given her a chance to see her younger sister, falling in trance as she held out her hand to touch the smaller one; letting out a giggle as the new born wrapped her finger around Senju's thumb and trying to bite it.

When she knew that her sister was an omega; she was fearing both for her and the family as it had been a while since there was an omega in the imperial family. Her thick eyelashes felt ticklish when the baby tried to touch her face, trying to explore her surrounding.

While Senju still had her worries, being a sister was something equally important and if it meant her head; she would do everything to protect this family especially her sister.

Haruchiyo was the first one to pay a visit. His parents wanted their second son, who was currently in the palace, to see his new sister as his father held his mother tight; fearing she could slip away and leave him alone if he didn't hold her that close.

As an alpha, it'd be normal for Haruchiyo to have a domineering aura emitting out from his presence only; but, alas, he was born second and everyone already loved Takeomi, leaving him alone in the limelight as everyone only remembers him as the 'second prince' unlike the Crown Prince or White Rose.

He was nothing special.

When he first knew that the new princess was an omega; a small grin crept onto his lips.

The father who felt his son was always accepting felt happy that he could accept his sister despite the current situation that pressured her; hoping he would be her shield when his father was no longer around.

Of course, Haruchiyo said. How could he feel upset when his new sister wasn't special, too? And on top of that, she was a disgusting omega.

She was a disgrace to the imperial family, wanted for no one and wished by no one. She could be turned into the black sheep of this family and no one was going to care about it.

But, Haruchiyo's thoughts were proven wrong.

The reason why his father asked him here was to be her sword and shield, to protect her from any harm she could face as an omega because she was the special one.

"Of course, father."

He let out a small smile before turning around to leave the room, dropping his act almost instantly as no one was there to pay him any attention.

At the end, he could only have the short end of the stick.

Years went by and the baby finally grew up into an angelic young girl; living away from the palace to avoid any unnecessary conflict as her parents built a mansion for the young princess, promising her a life full of happiness and hope.

The mansion was between grand and simple, walking on a thin line to avoid any unnecessary attention for being too much on one side.

It was built on a strong cliff with a magnificent view of the shore below that could be seen from the window; howling of the water, crashing tides against boulders and faint seagulls cries were lulling the young princess' sorrow when she spent another day by herself after a while.

"Nanny,"

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Do you think my family hates me?"

The elder shook her head, brushing the princess' hair away from her face before offering a kind smile; one she could only provide when there was no letter from the capital, a slight fear began to creep over her spine.

"That's not true, Your Highness."

She replied, reminding the child stream of letters and presents making a line to the mansion; filling the child's empty heart as she went through a rigorous training course for her upcoming debutante, signing the day where she would officially make a public appearance to the society.

Unfortunately, there was still no response to the event's progress; whether it was declining or going well, the nanny was pretty sure there'd receive a letter from the palace itself.

As if someone answered her relentless thought, a butler informed the nanny and young princess about the appearance of a messenger from the capital; bringing an important news as he went less than a day to make sure he could ensure the princess' safety.

Entering the waiting room with her nanny, the young princess acknowledged the messenger's greeting before taking a seat; urging him to give the information tonight while a maid poured him down a cup of warm tea.

"The palace is currently in disarray; the second prince overthrew the current emperor and held the entire family as a hostage except for the Crown Prince, who was on his way to the capital with his troops."

The messenger bit his thumb, drawing blood from his raw skin before continuing the news; looking at the nanny for permission before she gave him one, knowing this wasn't time to protect the innocent princess' heart.

"The princess was ordered to come back to the palace or she'd be burnt in her residence for disobeying the second prince."

He held his hat tightly as the nanny reassured him, glancing at the young princess who hadn't had her debutante; fearing that the second prince might humiliate her in public for not knowing how to blend into the society.

No time for that now!

The nanny asked everyone to pack the young princess' belongings right away; waking up everyone and making sure no one was asleep, slacking off from their jobs because it was a stormy night.

The nanny took the princess' sleeping gown before changing it into an outdoor dress, putting on a coat over her form as she led her to an imperial carriage with a butler and her granddaughter.

"Nanny?"

The young princess looked at her with fear in her eyes, getting confused with the whole situation before the nanny pressed a kiss onto her forehead; ushering the butler and her granddaughter to get inside another carriage behind the princess'.

There was no time left and the nanny was sure she would die because of age if the second prince didn't burn the whole mansion yet as the princess was on her way to the capital; sensing that her hunch was right about the angelic prince who wore a two-faced mask and always ready to fight his brother for the throne due to being an alpha; a natural born leader.

The young princess didn't get to say a proper goodbye when the nanny made sure everything was closed and locked; only a simple kiss to remind her how warm the south was, whether it was the people, the food or the weather, everything was perfect.

Haruchiyo sat down on the throne with a crazed grin, twirling the crown in his hand as his parents and Senju were looking at him with both anger and confusion; not knowing what pushed him to commit a treason when everything was perfect.

The imperial family was well-loved by both the aristocrat and plebs; Takeomi would be a king everyone praises for and Haruchiyo didn't need to do everything to please everyone but himself like his two siblings.

Senju was the first one who voiced her anger; stating Haruchiyo was making a mistake by doing this as Takeomi would kill him for ruining the peace he was able to hold. But, it fell into a deaf ear and she got dragged into her room by the troops who supported the second prince, keeping her locked inside like her parents until the day Haruchiyo would crown himself.

Open the gates!

Senju ran to her balcony, hoping she would find Takeomi and his troops. Instead, she found an imperial carriage with the second princess' crest on it; dragging tens of knights to fight against Haruchiyo's army as her carriage made an unexpected entrance.

The last time she met her sister was five years ago when she was barely ten years old; not knowing how much she had grown after living in seclusion due to the chaotic capital's condition after Takeomi met his soulmate and engaged with the lady from a well-known Dukedom.

"Wait, is that Takeomi behind!"

She muttered to herself, trying to find a good look of her eldest brother as he followed the path their youngest sister made; as if, he already expected that she would help him to fight against the second prince and his treason.

"Senju, baby!"

She heard a knock behind her bookshelf, pushing it open to see her parents with their right hand men and handmaidens before she took her coat and joined inside; making sure the shelf was put back in place before she made a run with her parents to the white rose garden.

The stairs were steep and narrow, slightly damp as they were behind the walls; listening to swords clashing against each other and blood gushing onto the floor. Senju was a realist but she could only pray for a miracle where Takeomi would win with their sister's support.

Her father's right-hand man decided to be the first who opened the exit and checked around the surroundings, pulling everyone out as they ran towards the Takeomi's army; hoping Haruchiyo's men would find then.

"There's the emperor!"

A clang of iron armour against each other, Senju knew they were already discovered by Haruchiyo's and there was nothing to do except to give in; begging for some merciful death by the sadistic prince.

"There, protect the imperial family!"

On the other side, she saw a young girl dressed in white coat with gold embellishments; her young sister commanding her brother's first order, rushing to fight against the traitorous knights while she held her family close to her heart, knowing today she might be able to face another day without any fear anymore.

Holding her parents and sister close, the young princess told them to get inside her carriage before they could flee to request a help from another family.

But, her idea was rejected by her dear father, telling her that she could do it but he would stay here even if it meant death; followed by her mother and then Senju.

"Then, I'll stay here, too, with all of you."

"How cute."

Haruchiyo's voice was heavy and cold, complementing the slow step he took in your direction; eyes darting to your petite frame before he took you by your collar, choking you in the process while his men pointing their swords at the imperial family and their trusted advisors.

"Bring them inside."

He ordered, taking the young princess like a sack before he threw her to the floor with a loud thud; lowering his gaze and signed her to kneel like the others as he stood up in front of them, resting the tip of his sword on Takeomi's cold body, no sign of life in his eyes anymore.

Haruchiyo had won; the new emperor who rose to the high position with his silver tongue, quick wit and cold demeanor perfect of a seasoned general in war.

The first was the former emperor; he was beheaded with no mercy as Haruchiyo purposely didn't finish it with one cut, watching the emperor scream in pain when he struck the second swing before the former emperor could finally leave this realm, looking at his wife with tears in his eyes and small 'i love you' when Haruchiyo stuck the last hit, ending the pacifist emperor's life.

The second was the empress. He didn't bat an eye and pushed his sword straight to her heart, twisting it slightly to the side to prolong her pain as blood started to come out from her mouth, getting her almost choked as she finally blew out her last breath, holding Senju's hand tightly to give her heart a bit of strength.

The third was Senju, the White Rose of the society. She was put in misery and her head wasn't in the right place when Haruchiyo asked her why she didn't use her magic to save their parents, stating how she was a selfish daughter; only thinking about her safety instead of saving her loving parents.

As the 'punishment', Haruchiyo cut both of her hands by the wrist and let her regret consuming her until she finally died due to blood loss, sitting on a pool of her warm blood until it turned cold and got sticky on the young princess' gown.

Haruchiyo's supposed blond hair turned pink now after creating a massacre, building his regime over spilled blood and envy; taking the young princess' face in his cold grasp, forcing her to see her now dead family then his eyes.

"As you know, no one is willing to get their daughter married to me,"

He took a stride, watching her carefully under his gaze while his men were discarding the dead bodies from the throne room; trying to not gag at the rustic stench filling the whole palace after a bloodbath.

"So, I decided to spare you to have the honour to be my empress."

You looked at him with fat tears running on your cheeks, not wanting to have him to claim you over as your eyes darted to your butler and lady-in-waiting; hoping they would go through the same fate as your family.

Licking the salty tears from your eyes, Haruchiyo let out a boisterous laugh; pushing you to the cold tiles as he told your butler to move you to the empress room, telling him that he would spend a night with you later.

"But, she's barely an adult! She doesn't have her debutante yet!"

Your lady-in-waiting pleaded, holding you close to her side as Haruchiyo ignored her; telling everyone that the emperor's order was absolute and couldn't be disobeyed if they wanted no blood to spill again tonight.

[corvidamned]

FIVE SONGS for your muse.

i. Love Me Dead - Ludo: She moves through moonbeams slowly. She knows just how to hold me. And when her edges soften, Her body is my coffin. I know she drains me slowly. She wears me down to bones in bed. Must be the sign on my head, That says, oh Love me dead! Love me dead!

ii. This Is Not An Exit - Duncan Sheik: Maybe this schism, is just a symptom, Of late capitalism. A Savior's died and risen, Of worlds that wouldn't listen, To their own collapse. Even if this story, Is overwrought and gory, It's not a fable, it's not an allegory. No cautionary tale, no memento mori. Or a vague perhaps.

iii. I Would Die 4 U - Prince: I'm not a woman, I'm not a man. I am something that you'll never understand. I'll never beat you, I'll never lie. And if you're evil, I'll forgive you by and by. 'Cause you, I would die for you, yeah. Darlin', if you want me to, you, I would die for you. I'm not your lover, I'm not your friend. I am something that you'll never comprehend. No need to worry, no need to cry. I'm your Messiah and you're the reason why.

iv. Shake the Disease - Depeche Mode: Some people have to be permanently together, Lovers devoted to each other forever. Now I've got things to do, and I've said before, That I know you have too. When I'm not there, In spirit I'll be there. Here is a plea from my heart to you, Nobody knows me as well as you do. You know how hard it is for me to shake the disease, That takes hold of my tongue in situations like these. Understand me.

v. As It Was - Hozier: And in a few days, I would be there, love. Whatever here that's left of me is yours just as it was. Just as it was, baby. Before the otherness came. And I knew its name. The love, the dark, the light, the flame. The eyes at the heights of my baby. Let's hope at the fight of my baby. The lights were as bright as my baby, But your love was unmoved. And tell me if somehow, some of it remained. How long you would wait for me? How long I've been away? The shape that I'm in now, is shaping the doorway. Make your good love known to me. Just tell me about your day. Just as it was, baby. Before the otherness came. And I knew its name. The drugs, the dark, the light, the shame.

FIVE TWELVE QUOTES for your muse.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ―  Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven Strength does not make one capable of rule; it makes one capable of service. ― Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings You cannot have both. In war you must always choose sides. One or the other. Silver or black. Human or demon. If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half. ― Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless I look down at my body and think, No. I will not abandon you. Not yet, not again, not like the rest of them. ― Ashe Vernon, from “For Anyone Who’s Listening,” Not a Girl Part of heroism is being able to see the future and still remain standing. If you don't believe in God or Fate, you still must believe in narrative. ― Richard Siken, Four Proofs “I’ve been trying to go home my whole life—” — Chelsea Dingman, “Psychogeography” “Break often - not like porcelain, but like waves.” — Scherezade Siobhan First love's all right, as far as it goes. Last love, that's what I'm interested in. ― The Edge of Love, 2008 Understand, there are two pains. Pains that try to rob you of your essence and burn you to the ground, and pains that will transform you and give you wings. ― Helaena Moon

If you are so committed to being perfectly lawful that you cannot see the value of breaking a law to defend yourself or others, you’re not good, you’re obedient. ― tumblr user cenkrett “As the image of myself becomes sharper in my brain and more precious, I feel less afraid that someone else will erase me by denying me love.” ― Jenny Slate there's a misconception that grief only happens when we lose people. this is not true. we can grieve circumstances, relationships, missed opportunities. in fact, sometimes when you find yourself plagued with waves of emotion from sadness to melancholy you may be grieving yourself. the version of yourself that you might have been if things had been different, or if only you had said something, or if someone had stood up for you. ― tumblr user blooooom

Tagged by: @manufactoredxbyxdesign @fiercehearts Tagging: @prettytm @gviral @blood-on-my-coat @dcwnthercbbithcle @mxlevolence @red-hemlock @umbrellamedic @stxsis @qu-tipie

[teletraan-archive]

You Are Being Deceived, by Slamdance

Introduction

As an autobot serving under the communications officer and famous broadcaster known as Blaster, I’ve gotten to see some of the best of the cybertronian race. As a war journalist, I’ve also gotten to see the worst of it. And almost all of the worst belong to one of the greatest evils that Cybertron has ever produced. The faction consisting of war profiteers, sadistic warriors, misguided fools and sparkless dictators. The decepticon empire.

As the Great War dragged on and expanded throughout the galaxy, the decepticon propaganda machine has worked hard on their public image. They proclaim to be peace keepers and their ideals are for the people. With enough military might and ruthless action, you too can rise up and defend Cybertron from all outside threats. Any planet’s civilization under decepticon rule that doesn’t agree with the philosophy of Peace Through Tyranny knows better. Entire worlds, brimming with unique cultures and ideas, have either been conquered through force or outright destroyed by Megatron’s thirst for power. The decepticon’s claim that what they do is for a safe and secure homeworld ring hollow as 95% of recourses siphoned from decepticon colonies go into weapons development and warship building, instead of repairing our war-ravaged planet. Throughout their entire existence, they have rewritten history and distorted the truth to fool the uninformed or entice the likeminded.

I write these data logs so that the autobots can show any and all sentient beings what the decepticons really are. My logs will contain interviews, historical data, audio logs, and various other sources that all point to an obvious truth; The decepticons are tyrants, they are here to deceive you, and many are proud of that. To conclude this introduction, I will leave the reader with the last typed words of Kaskade, former senate security guard of the city Tarn turned decepticon sniper:

To Megatron,

Consider this my resignation message. This drastic change in our grand movement has brought ruination to my home city. The decepticons have done terrible things in the name of peace. I’ve done terrible things.

I used to be in full agreement with the cause, back when we were still the ascenticons. Sentinel Prime was turning our whole world into a security state and was preventing our species from helping less fortunate organics. But then Termigax went into self exile and you became our new leader. The things you said in your first speech, the actions you promised to do, they shook me to my spark chamber.

Evidently, my thoughts were in the minority. Veterans of the quintesson war, gladiators that idolized you, even senators bought into the scrap you were selling. The only public disapproval came from the senator under my guard, Hilltop. She was adamant that military conquests would just put a Titan sized target onto Cybertron and our colonies. “We worked hard to amend the damage we caused to the galaxy while enslaved to the quintessons. I’m not going to allow Megatron to throw it all away just so he can live out his violent fantasies!” That was what she said to the press, and I believed her.

One day later, you contacted me directly and told me about you were planning an invasion of Tarn. That you knew I was an ascenticon loyalist and wanted me to assassinate Hilltop. You told me that she didn’t have Cybertron’s best interests in mind. You promised me energon, shanix, and a high rank in the growing decepticon army. Underneath all those promises, I saw the thinly veiled threats against my life. For the first time in my career as a security guard, I was terrified. But now? Now my guilt of killing Hilltop outweighs my fear of you.

Send your loyalists after me, find me yourself for all I care. I’ll never forgive you for laying waste to Tarn and destroying everything that the ascenticon movement was supposed to be.

From, Kaskade.

Not long after Kaskade sent this message to Megatron, a large box of light blue and pink scrap metal was put on display outside of the tyrant’s new throne room. Her message was engraved on the front of the box. While the method of death was never officially identified, most suspect that this was the first kill of the Decepticon Justice Devision.