#i cannot believe this is the first time i’ve drawn her

[nebulaafterdark]

Dragonseeds (Pt. 2)

Summary: If any man can claim a dragon, what good is the blood of Old Valyria?

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Cole)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut

Part 1

On the day Y/N Velaryon was born, King Viserys hosted a grand feast in her honor. On her twenty fifth name day, Rhaenyra sends similar gifts to King’s Landing, to feed the smallfolk. News which is ill received by her mother by law, Alicent.

“The King and Queen are missing, rest assured we are doing all we can to locate them, your Grace. Still someone must rule in their stead.” Ser Criston suggests, “a regent to guide us through their safe return.”

“A wise thought.” Alicent nods, “might I suggest myself?”

The members of the small council can hardly answer the dismissal of Rhaenyra’s claim by raising up a woman of their own.

The councilmen are inclined to believe they must first search of evidence of foul play. Though Ser Otto is not convinced. Pulling his daughter aside to scold her.

“These are the very same children who made themselves easy on the morning of her brother’s petition as heir of Driftmark. They are insolent and foolish but they do hold one thing dear and that is the other, and their children. They cannot see beyond their own desires.”

“You wished for Aegon to be king.” Alicent murmurs, “I’ve made him king.”

“I take full responsibility for my part in this, daughter.” Otto sighs, “knowing what I do now, it should have been Aemond upon the throne. He is closer in age to Rhaenyra’s daughter, he would not have been so pliable beneath her unyielding hands.”

“You could not have known for certain.”

“Everyone knew.” Otto admits. “To have Y/N is to have Aegon. He bends the knee to her and her whims because he…” loves her.

“Aemond might’ve fallen prey to her charms all the same. Y/N is not cold, calculated or cunning. She is only a girl, desperate to win her mother’s affection by any means necessary.” Alicent knows the role well.

“I want my mother.” Y/N pleaded with her midwives during her first labors.

Alicent developed a quiet fondness for her daughter by law in those days, more than she cares to admit.

————————————————————————

Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon are made comfortable upon their arrival, accepted with open arms by their Queen and left to their own devices.

Y/N and Aegon know little entertainment besides court…and the familiar comfort of the other. Without meetings to attend and their children still abed, they have no choice but to indulge.

Aegon finds his face between her thighs, drawn in like a moth to flame. Gods, how he loves her. Spelling it out over her pearl time and time again.

“Fuck,” Y/N cries, rolling her hips up to meet him.

Aegon’s hands encircle them, wide and full to bear his children. She finds her peak against his tongue, thighs clenched taut around his head.

They scarcely notice the door of their apartments creaking open until Rhaenyra is in their bed chamber. “Oh!” The woman shields her eyes.

“Mother,” Y/N gasps. Pulling the coverlet up to her chin.

“Forgive me. I thought you might be alone.” Aegon had been given his own chambers.

Aegon moves up toward the pillows, popping his head out from beneath the covers. “Did you need something?”

Rhaenyra huffs, “I need my daughter and heir, yes. We’ve much to discuss.”

“Of course, mother.” Y/N nods, “give me a moment to make myself decent and I will meet you in your rooms?”

Rhaenyra nods, before rushing out to the safety of the nearest corridor.

“That ought to keep her from barging in unannounced.” Aegon muses, brushing sweat damp hair from his wife’s face.

“You find it funny that my mother now knows of our…intimacies?” Y/N snaps.

Aegon chuckles, “I’m afraid she has known, darling girl.” He passes a hand over the swell of her belly. “Everyone knows, I fear.”

Y/N groans, burying her face in her hands.

“Do not despair, my dearest love.” Aegon murmurs, “you have laid your line of succession strong enough that no man may question it.”

Y/N nods, as his forehead rests against her temple.

“At all of five and twenty, you have provided the crown with nearly six heirs.” Aegon reminds her, “you have performed your duty. There is no shame in it.”

“When I was a girl, I thought we’d fly away on dragon back.” Y/N whispers, tracing the lines of his face with her finger.

Aegon smiles, “and where would we go?”

“Away on a ship somewhere, to live off the sea. We’d spend the rest of our days singing sea shanties, eating only cake…and fish, of course.”

Aegon chuckles, “of course.”

“We’d be free of all this.”

“We will never be free of this.” He understands better now, what it meant each time she took his body in her own to create life. The way they unknowingly sealed their fate with each kiss.

“Do you wish to be, husband?”

“I wish for your happiness and that of our children. The rest matters little and less.”

“You matter to me a great deal.”

————————————————————————-

“In your absence, Jacaerys and I have set down a difficult path…where it seems we now differ in opinion.” Rhaenyra informs her daughter. “As my successor, I must now raise the matter with you.”

“Of course.” Y/N nods.

“To stand against Vhagar, even with Sunfyre and Stormborn now amongst our ranks, we will need more dragon riders.”

“Our children are very young, their dragons still wet from the egg. It may be a decade or more before they take to wing.”

“You agree then, something else must be done about our numbers?” Rhaenyra asks.

Jace shakes his head, clenching his hands into fists.

“What do you propose?” Y/N wonders.

“There are many in our line who’ve…ventured outside their marriage bed. Those children have lived largely in the shadows, but they share the blood of the dragon.” Rhaenyra continues, choosing her words carefully.

“Surely there are those from our line who married into other noble houses-”

“We have lost Ser Stephen to such a venture. I fear the blood may be too thin.” Rhaenyra laments, toying with her rings.

“You disagree, Jacaerys?”

“When one of those baseborn, silver haired, dragon riders decide they want to rule the seven kingdoms, where does that leave you?” Jace turns to his sister. “They will leave you clinging to Aegon again, in hopes of becoming Queen. Even then they may question your claim.”

“I appreciate your concerns, you are ever vigilant.” Y/N takes his hand in hers, “I appreciate it more than you will ever know.”

“Of course.”

“I ask you now, brother, what other choice we have?”

“Together with Sunfyre, Vermax, Stormborn and Syrax do you not believe we stand a chance against Vhagar?”

“A chance, yes.” Y/N agrees, “but to put the people I hold most dear in danger for a chance? I can do no such thing in good conscience.”

“You are putting your claim in danger, perhaps your very life. Are you so blind you cannot see it?” Jace snaps.

“Better my claim be lost than any of you.” Y/N says, pointedly. “I want to be Queen. I have wanted it from the time I was a child and it was impressed upon me to want. Clinging to it like some prized possession. I married for it, birthed children for it. I was left behind in King’s Landing when I was no more than a child, to hold my place in our grandsire’s court while the rest of my family abandoned me for Dragonstone. I have given all that I am or ever hoped to be to hold this claim. Still I will choose any of you over a crown.”

“You should never have had to do that.” Jacaerys reminds her.

Rhaenyra runs a hand over her own face. “I did not mean for you to feel abandoned.”

“I know that, mother, and I do not fault you for it.” Y/N assures her, “you do what you must to protect-”

“Cole promised he would care for you, I should never have trusted him. I should have taken you with me, as I wanted. You wrote to me often enough that I forced myself to believe you were happy.”

“Cole did care for me, as best he could.” Y/N assures her, “I only meant…”

“You meant what you said.” Rhaenyra understands, “and rightfully so. I have made many mistakes in this life, most regrettably, with you. They have cost you more than even I understood, until now. Leaving you was the hardest thing I have had to do in all my years. I am sorry for it.”

“Mother, I do not fault you for decisions you made to protect me. You did the best you could.”

“I did not do enough, it seems.” Rhaenyra pats her cheek. “All the more reason I must do what I can for you now.”

“If you believe this is the way, then I will help you see it through.” Y/N decides, “tell me what I must do.”

“Nothing yet, the Lady Mysaria has already sent word to King’s Landing.”

————————————————————————-

When they are excused by the Queen, Jace makes haste towards his quarters.

“Jace,” Y/N calls. “Jacaerys!” She says a bit louder the second time to be sure he’s heard her.

“I wish for a moment alone.”

Y/N closes the distance between them. “I do not pretend to know what has happened here in my absence. But what I will tell you is that when Aegon and I first wed, he would not lie with me. After seeing Helaena birth her twins, he could hardly stomach it. He waited and waited.” Y/N confesses, “I too was frightened of the birthing bed.”

“You were a child.” Jace reminds her, “you’d every right to be.”

“When I turned ten and six Otto Hightower began discussing his fear that I might be barren, with Alicent. This was kept hush, but the whispers trickle down, they always do.” Y/N swallows. “In noble families requiring an heir, it is not uncommon to receive…assistance. They wanted to bring in one of the serving girls for Aegon, if I could not conceive. But before that though, I’d be expected to lie with another in our line.”

Jacaerys can only gawk at her. “And did you?”

“No,” Y/N assures him. “But had I not conceived, it would have been expected of me.”

“With whom?”

“Aemond is my husband’s closest blood.” Y/N averts her eyes, “they knew he could sire children.”

“Did mother know?” Jace demands.

“Everyone knew, Jacaerys.” Y/N huffs, “she was prepared to fight for me, as she always has. But I do not care to admit the number of times I’ve envied you…simply for being born a son. We cannot fault our mother for doing what she must, she is choosing between the lesser of two rotten choices.”

“I could not have done the things you have, I wish more than anything that you did not have to do them. But you are just, in your morals and your mercy. So if you believe this is the way, I stand proudly at your side.” Jace assures her. It never mattered to either of them that different men’s blood courses through their veins. Being the eldest, they are the only ones to ever know. Even sweet Lucerys had no inkling.

“Thank you, brother.”

Taglist: @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @kamcrazy123 @barnes70stark

[angeat]

i’m losing my mind

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. however, things don’t go so smoothly at first . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 3.6k

⟢ warnings/tags: abusive parents, james’ clothes are described as baggy on the reader, siblings fighting, fluff then angst

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: my writing's so rustyyyy the dialogue is so off but im so done editing. and this is gonna need a few more parts, i keep getting carried away.

The Potters' house was very different from yours. It was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. Back home, it felt like Grimmauld Place existed under a perpetual storm cloud. Here, sunshine cannot be escaped. The curtains were drawn closed, but light still filtered in from both sides, almost pleading for them to be opened so that it might do its duty of brightening the house.

Another thing you noticed were birds, who sang pretty songs from right outside your window. You can't remember ever hearing any birds outside your home, and there were plenty of trees for them to nest in. In fact, you started to believe that the aura of your house scared all living things away. Realistically, it was probably all of the yelling and screaming.

As you lie in an unfamiliar room and think of all the reasons why you preferred it over your own, three gentle knocks beat on your door. They sounded different than James' quick staccato, and nerves bubbled in your stomach because you couldn't guess who was on the other side.

You took a deep breath, told yourself that you didn’t have to be so on edge here, and called for the person to come in as you sat up. The knock pattern automatically filed itself away in your brain as belonging to Mrs. Potter. She walked in, carrying a silver tea tray.

"Good morning, dear. Sleep well?" She greeted you as she made her way to your bedside.

"Yes, Ma'am." You said politely.

"Oh, please call me Effie," she insisted as she placed the tray on the bedside table and moved to draw open your curtains. You imagined the sunshine saying thank you for finally letting it in.

“I’ve brought up some tea for you. I wasn't sure how you liked it, alas..." Effie waved her hand over the tray.

The tray had the basics: a teapot, sugar, and a small milk pitcher. However, Effie had also laid out various tea bags for you to choose from, along with some warm biscuits.

“Thank you,” you said in awe as you stared at the display. It was a simple tea setting, really, but the thoughtfulness still had you feeling choked up.

"I spoke with James this morning. May I?" Effie gestured to the edge of your bed, and you welcomed her to sit. "He woke Monty and me up at the crack of dawn, insisting that we let you and your brother stay permanently. Even had tears in his eyes. I tell you, that boy has his father’s big heart."

"Anywho, I nearly tossed a pillow at him for waking me up so early, as if I’d even consider an alternative! But I got to thinking, if James felt like we needed convincing, then we better make sure you and Sirius don’t feel any unease either.”

Effie reached for your hands that lay folded in your lap. “So,” she paused a moment to allow you the chance to shoo her off before placing her hand over yours. “I felt it was important to tell you personally that you are welcomed in this home and this family, assuming you’ll have us, for as long as you need us. That sounds like a good deal to you?”

You bit back tears, “Yea- yes. I think that sounds lovely.”

Effie smiled and squeezed your hands, “Can I give you a hug, dear?”

“Yes, please.” you croaked.

Effie wrapped her arms around you, and you let a few tears loose while she couldn’t see you, wiping them away with your thumb as soon as they appeared. The hug felt warm and unfamiliar, and you wondered if there was a time that your parents ever hugged you like this. If they did, you didn’t remember it.

From behind Effie’s back, you watched James waltz over through your blurry vision. He became distracted by the surprise that the bedroom door was already opened, eyeing it before anything else in the room as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Good morning, sunsh- Mum! You’re in here!”

Effie pulled back from you and craned her neck to look over her shoulder at her son, who was standing up as straight as a board in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow at him, sensing his sudden weirdness.

“I was just welcoming Y/N to our home, like we discussed. Are you alright, dear?” Effie tilted her head.

“‘m splendid, Mum.” James said it with a goofy smile, rocking back and forth on his heels.

She drew her eyebrows together and said, "Lovely, James. What can we do for you?"

"Me? Do for me?" James' eyes widened.

Effie shook her head, perplexed by her son’s reaction.

"I'm wondering what brings you here, James?"

"Ah. I was just in the area," James said, doing a poor job at acting casual. "Y'know, the upstairs... area. Uh, so I thought I'd say good morning... Good morning!"

You thought that this must be the kind of thing people face palm over.

“Hm,” Effie squinted at her son, studying him for a moment before deciding to worry about whatever that was later. She turned back towards you, “Anywho, this is your room now, so I hope it's to your liking. We can see about changing these sheets and painting the walls however you’d like-”

“It’s perfect!” You interrupted, looking bashful for doing so, but Effie didn't seem to mind.

“Well, feel free to customize it any other way. Any posters?” Effie offered.

"I didn't have time to grab that sort of thing,” you admitted, and immediately felt stupid for doing so. Effie clearly just wanted you to feel at home, and you felt like you were being a downer.

But if it phased Effie, she didn’t show it.

"Well then, that means we get to go buy some new ones, yeah?"

She gave your hands a final squeeze before standing up, saying, “I better let you wake up and enjoy the tea,” and walking towards the hall.

Effie affectionately patted James on the cheek as she passed him.

“Have you had breakfast, dear?”

“Mum!” James shrank away from her, his face growing hot. “I will in a minute!”

She tsked at him, gave his cheek one last pinch, and made her way out of the room. James hung from the doorframe into the hall to watch her go. When she was out of sight, he dipped into your room and shut the door silently behind him.

James' back pressed against the closed door as he shot you a toothy grin.

"Good morning, sunshine," he repeated.

You can't help but giggle at him while saying, "Good morning, Jamie."

As he walked over you, his smile slightly faded as a hint of sadness crept onto his face when he noticed your teary eyes.

One thing you loved about James was that he never resorted to any of those hollow phrases like "don't cry" or "stay strong" when he tried to make you feel better. Instead, he always concocted the perfect cure for the situation. Today, it was goofiness and a lot of kisses.

James made a big show of acting innocent as he approached. He whistled some tune and looked anywhere but you before he suddenly dived at you, embracing your waist with a gentle yet decisive sweep of his arms. He flung his body into the mattress, dragging you down with him. You yelped and chided him through laughter.

When you landed, you were tangled awkwardly—your body twisted so that your torso was on top of his, but his legs were draped over yours. James' arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you trapped as he peppered kisses on your face. He kissed your cheeks and the corner of your eyes, then your eyelids, effectively kissing away any stray tears.

You were a fit of giggles by the time his lips reached the tip of your nose. Next up, he dipped his head to kiss each side of your mouth before finally capturing your lips with his. You giggled through the feathery kisses he pressed on your lips, and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps as he smiled against you.

Soon, laughter overtook you both. Yet you remained close, with your noses brushing against each other and your foreheads pressed together, as your happy laughter filled the room.

Eventually, James' laughter began to die down. He removed one of his hands from your waist to help brush your hair back into place, it having gotten disheveled from his attack.

You settled down as well, letting the touch of his fingertips in your hair calm you. He took notice and continued running his fingers through your hair, even after it was all brushed out of your face.

For a peaceful moment, you gazed into his eyes, which were filled with admiration and mirrored your own. James watched as a glint of mischief suddenly sparkled in your eyes.

"So," you voiced.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"You've clearly never tried to hide something from your mum before."

"Why would I 'ave had to hide something from my mum before?" James pouted, briefly bringing your giggles back. "Only reason I haven't gushed to her about my beautiful girlfriend," James gave your waist a squeeze, "is 'coz she would have qualms with me lying to a friend."

"Oh, so I guess we better go tell Sirius then, yeah? I wouldn't want to make you lie to your dear mum, I like her." You teased, amused by James' eyes widening nervously.

You've talked about telling your brothers before, but it's something neither of you were quite ready for—you were too fond of the blissfulness you found in the privacy of your relationship.

"Er, I don't particularly feel like getting socked in the face today." James said.

"Oh, come on. You think he'd react that badly?" You carried on.

"I think Sirius punching me would be a mild reaction for him." James grimaced, "He'll probably hex me into the next century. And I get chills thinking about what would happen if Regulus were to find out. Oh, I'd be a dead man. Or he'd put an irreversible curse on my bloodline. It's a tossup, really."

Your smile faltered at the mention of your twin brother, suddenly remembering your situation. You let yourself get distracted by the warm welcome from Effie and James' affection. How could you lay here happily while Regulus is still stuck at that house?

Your expression suddenly grew very solemn as you began squirming out of James' grip. "Where's Sirius?" you asked.

James seemed to choke on his own spit. "Uh, pardon? You're not really planning on telling him today?” Despite his protest, James loosened his grip, not wanting to keep you somewhere you didn’t want to be. “At least let me put my Quidditch gear on, I might need the protective padding."

You had tunnel vision the moment Regulus’ name was mentioned, but you realized what James was saying by the time he mentioned protective padding.

“Not that, James. I need to find out about Reg.”

His mouth formed an O shape as you stood at the foot of the bed with your hands on your hips.

“So do you know where he is?”

“Uh, eating breakfast probably,” James guessed, “in the dining room.”

You stared at him expectantly and after a while of him not moving, you huffed, “I don’t know where that is, James!”

“Right!” James scrambled up from the bed so he could lead you through the house. You could’ve found it if you wandered long enough, but the Potters’ house was fairly large, and you wanted to talk to Sirius as soon as possible.

By the time James had led you to the kitchen, you could see Sirius in the next room over through the open archway. You pushed past James at once.

Sirius was alone at the head of the table, various platters of breakfast food surrounding him. The kitchen was hot when you passed through it, so one of James’ parents must have just been cooking, but they were nowhere to be seen now. Sirius was shoveling some sausage onto his plate when he saw you.

“Sirius,” you said sternly as your hands returned to your hips.

“Look who’s finally up!” Your brother cheered, “Just in time to eat.” He gestured at the seat next to him.

James appeared at your side, and said, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Maybe you should have some before you-”

“Where is Regulus?” You interrupted, ignoring James altogether.

James’ utterance of “Yeah, didn’t think so” was lost on your ears.

With a scowl on his face, Sirius turned his attention away from his meal. His eyes scanned over you, and his scowl twisted into an amused expression. “Nice outfit!” he snorted.

You looked down briefly to see yourself drowning in James’ clothes. Being much taller than you, James' sweats pooled at your ankles. You rolled your eyes.

“Stop it, Sirius. Where is our brother?”

Sirius squinted at you. You thought he was finally going to give you answers when he decisively opened his mouth, but instead, “You should sit and eat. James is right, breakfast is the most-”

“Sirius!” You raised your voice, your hands molding into fists as your arms dropped to your sides.

Sirius threw his fork down with a clatter, “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me why he’s not here with us.” Your pleading voice cracked as you begged your brother for answers, stepping closer to him.

Sirius had a stormy, faraway look in his eyes, as if recalling something poignant. “The only one who can answer that question is him, so you’re out of luck,” he said bitterly.

The simmering anger in your chest started to bubble, rising up to your throat until you were spitting words that you would later regret. “You left him there!” you accused.

“Excuse me?” Sirius sent a deadly stare your way as he slowly pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Woah,” James tried to interrupt, moving to stand between you two, “Maybe we wanna take a moment and-”

You stepped around James, and his remaining words were drowned out by your raised voice: “I said you left him there. He’s not here because of you.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Sirius bellowed, growing more irritated with you.

“Then why not enlighten me, Sirius!?”

“He chose to stay!" he disclosed. "Alright? I know you think so highly of your favorite brother, but he chose that place!”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and looking away.

You ignored Sirius' choice words of "favorite brother." You weren't going to let yourself get distracted by that conversation, which you've had a countless number of times already. Sirius was sensitive to the fact that Regulus was your twin brother, and Sirius would always just be your brother, no matter how many times you told him that you loved them the same.

“I told him to pack, just like you, and he said no. I told him he had to and he refused," Sirius said vindictively.

“Then you should’ve tried harder!" You snapped, spewing words you didn't mean, "Now he’s there alone. He would’ve come if you would've just tried harder, I know it. This is all your fault!”

Sirius reeled back as if you had punched him in the gut. For a moment, he looked hurt, but then anger overwhelmed him. “How could you say that? You weren’t even there!”

“Because you never let me be! I stayed in my room, like you said to, and was out of my mind with worry. Next thing I know, we’re leaving and Regulus isn’t, and that feeling hasn’t gone away because I have no idea how he is. You should’ve grabbed him and dragged him along! You should’ve-“

“Why is everything my fault!? Why is it what I should’ve done!? You don’t even know what he did!” Sirius' nostrils flared with rage.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how your dear Reggie isn’t as good as you think he is," he sneered. "If you only saw him…”

“I don’t care what he did, he’s our brother!" You shouted, "He should be here. It doesn’t matter!”

Sirius slammed his hand on the table, “IT DOESN’T MATTER!?” he screamed, causing you to jump back. Tears immediately began welling in your eyes. No matter what you did, when you were being yelled at, you started crying. You weren't like your brothers, who could hold stone-cold, emotionless expressions despite whatever was swirling within. It was one of the reasons your brothers did what they could to keep your parents away from you—to Walburga and Orion, emotion was weakness.

Your tears didn't phase Sirius like they normally would have. He was too furious. “You want to know what he did?" he asked harshly. "He watched. He watched our parents torture me, and then he just walked away!"

“What did you want him to do?” you cried, “He- he was probably scared,” you hiccuped, “you- you should’ve-“

“I shouldn’t have done anything, goddammit! She crucio’d me! THAT’S what he watched our mother do. THAT’S what he let me deal with alone. I was on the ground unable to get up for damn near thirty minutes, and he knew it!"

Sirius nearly doubled over, grabbing the table in front of him for balance so hard that his knuckles blanched. All of the yelling gave him a head rush, but he wouldn't relent, "So don’t you tell me that I should’ve tried harder. That I should’ve grabbed him. He doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about him?”

Your hand clasped over your mouth as you sobbed. Your parents were cruel, but the Cruciatus Curse? You couldn’t fathom it. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and bile bubbled up in your throat as you recalled Sirius’ scream from the night before.

Neither of you seemed to have anything else to say. You both just stood before each other in your most vulnerable states. It was a miserable sight—you crying your eyes out and Sirius looking sick as a dog.

Neither of you had noticed James leave until he returned. His parents followed closely behind.

"Snitch," Sirius choked out, glaring at his best friend as a fit of coughs hit him, his throat strained from the yelling. He ducked his head down and screwed his eyes shut suddenly, like the light in the room was starting to bother his head.

James didn't seem to care what Sirius thought of him. He was too busy being concerned for you both. Besides, James didn't really snitch. You two were being so loud that his parents were already on their way. He happened to run into them in their pursuit.

"What's going on?" Effie's gentle voice rang through the room, "We could hear yelling from the other side of the house."

Even though James' mum was being stern, she didn't sound angry or upset. Her voice only carried notes of concern and motherly authority.

Neither you nor Sirius answered her, too busy crying and coughing. Both of you would've probably been too sheepish to answer, anyway.

James' parents shared a look with each other, deciding what to do about the situation through eye contact alone.

Fleamont spoke with a firm voice, "Alright, son, we ought to get you up to your room. I think it'd be best for you to lie down." Fleamont clasped a hand on Sirius' shoulder. Your brother let Fleamont assist him in the walk to his room.

Euphemia moved to comfort you, but James stopped her. "Wait, let me."

She raised her eyebrows at her son, skeptical of the idea that her young son was equipped to handle this situation. But James had already started reaching for you, and like a moth to a flame, you melted into his arms the moment you felt his fingertips graze your skin.

Effie's eyes darted between you and her son, settling on him when her features melded into a look of understanding. A million questions raced through her mind. How long had this been going on? Why didn't James tell her? Did James tell Sirius? But the one thing she knew for sure was that you found comfort in James, and comfort was the one thing you needed right now.

She took a deep breath and decided to trust her son. "We'll talk about this later. I'm going to check on Sirius."

"Thanks, Mum." James let out a relieved breath.

"Just... behave."

"Mum!" James blushed, his hands swiftly traveling up to cover your ears with his palms.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that!" Effie waved a hand in the air as she followed in the direction of Fleamont and Sirius.

James noticed your shoulders had started shaking intensely.

“Lovey,” he cooed. He moved his hands to cup your face, tilting it up to look at him. He was surprised to find that the reason for your shuddering shoulders was not because you had started crying harder. You were still crying, but it was mixed with a bit of laughter.

"I guess neither of us are very good at hiding things,” you said, thinking of how you jumped into his arms right in front of his mother.

James shook his head, a single chuckle escaping from his lips.

“Guess not.”

Your moment of humor quickly passed, your eyes turning sad again as more tears spilled out.

James sighed, brushing away your tears with his thumb before pulling you close to his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on your back, pressed kisses to the top of your head, and whispered professions of love and sweet words in your ear while he let you cry. Sometimes, he knew you just needed to let it all out.

Eventually, you let James’ touch and loving words relax you. When your crying was reduced to a sniffle, James veered back so that you could see his face.

“Let’s go on a walk.”

[sunnami]

deleted draft/scene - watch me, don’t touch me, love me, don’t hurt me.

legitimately cannot write anything at the moment, so please have this for a bit T-T

“LILY, DARLING! That dress looks utterly divine! Is that Charmeuse silk? The purple simply brings out the color in your eyes! And your skin, my love! Just glowing! Tell me—have you been trying those snail facials? I hear they’re all the rage nowadays.”

Amidst the Yule Ball festivities, a crowd gathers in the corner of the icy ballroom; far beyond the ages of awkward teenage hand-holding, and an acquired taste for Firewhiskey rather than fruit punch. In the middle of it all—is you. Obnoxiously catching everyone’s attention, whether they like it or not. But even the Dementors in Azkaban would find themselves drawn to your shrilling voice and careless display of wealth; like a bee to a field of flowers. Your gown is dripping in black, hand-woven gothic lace, and drapes of ruffled, yellow satin skirts. It is a testament to your House—the cete of badgers. A pear cut, Canary Diamond necklace sits atop your neck. The capelet around your shoulders is of black velvet and gold trimmings. 

(Always the belle of the ball, but Sirius Black wonders if there’s anything in your head at all.)

(“Bloody hell.” Marlene grabs the flask of whiskey from Sirius’s hands and pours the burning liquid down her throat. “I’m going to need more of this if I plan on surviving the night. Surely there are more important matters to discuss than French designers and our frilly dresses. It’s like I’m back in sixth-year all over again.”

Sirius shakes the now-empty container in amusement. “And you thought stealing my stash was the best idea? Do you know how hard it was to sneak this in with Minnie glaring down my shoulders? I swear that woman treats me like I’m still fourteen.”)

“We work in the same castle, Lily flower, but it’s a pity we don’t run into each other much,” You say liltingly, lipstick staining the rim of your champagne glass. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were deliberately avoiding me!”

Lily flashes you a constrained smile. “On the contrary, I’ve been rather busy these days helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary. My responsibility, after all, is first and foremost—the children.” She raises a brow at you contemptuously. “Not all of us have the luxury of skipping work for tea and gossip.”

You hum, lips quirked in amusement. “Oh? That’s a shame. Narcissa and I would love for you to join us one day.” 

“Perhaps when I’ve no longer important things to do,” says Lily in a saccharine-sweet tone. 

You grow bored of toying with Lily—to her relief—and decide to throw a bone at Rita Skeeter. The bloodthirsty journalist preys hungrily at your every word—and you’re more than willing to satiate the irritable, little pest. You have nobles from pure-blooded families kissing at your feet for a moment of your time; entertaining a crowd like this takes no effort. (Except for the Marauders, you find. They’re the section that plays out of tune in the orchestra you’re conducting.) 

“You wouldn’t believe it, Rita darling, of all the people I come upon in Rome—it’s Vittoria Zabini!” You throw your head back in laughter as Rita’s eyes grow wide as a bug’s. “On a honeymoon, no less!” You wink at Rita. “This makes her fourth one now, I believe.” 

As predicted, Rita greedily whips out her Quick-Quotes Quill. “Riveting.” She pushes her glasses upwards with a quirk of her lips. “We may have tomorrow’s front page at our hands.” 

Lily hides a scoff by taking a sip of her sparkling beverage. “Surely we have more important news for the wizarding world than an innocent woman’s marriage.” 

You gasp melodramatically. “But this is Vittoria Zabini! Haven’t you ever wondered why her husbands mysteriously disappear after months of marriage?”

“Not even once!” Lily slams her glass down onto the round, draped table; nostrils flaring and chest heaving. “Sorry.” She dabs a napkin at her lips with a heavy exhale. “Please excuse me. I’ve just lost my appetite.” 

“Poor dear,” You mutter as the red-headed beauty makes for the group of Gryffindors a few feet away. She instantly collapses into James’s arms, no doubt complaining about your charming personality. There’s an odd ache in your heart as you watch the McKinnon girl pat her back comfortingly; Remus Lupin taking Lily’s hands and easing her anger. You’ve never felt a camaraderie such as theirs. Always the Gryffindors, and their flagrant displays of loyalty and whatnot. 

How repulsive. 

this was one of the first ever drafts for the fic! and no, the yule ball scene won’t be like this, it’ll be quite better, i hope. ;0

[zootopiathingz]

I know I’ve said it before but I’m bringing back my favorite Wildehopps headcanon “Nick fell first but Judy fell harder”

I may be alone, but I truly believe that Nick is well-aware of his feelings for Judy from the very beginning of their budding friendship. He knows he’s absolutely smitten for the bright-eyed bunny that turned his world upside down. But he will never act on it because she’s his first true friend in god knows how long and he cannot screw that up. A little harmless flirting now and then, maybe even a ‘platonic’ kiss on the head is as far as he’ll take it. What he has with her is perfect, and maybe deep down he thinks she can do better. Why would a bunny even want to date a fox, anyway?

Judy, on the other hand—or paw, is completely blind to his incredibly subtle and not-at-all obvious crush on her, as well as her own feelings for him. She feels random waves of affection for him that she doesn’t quite understand, attraction she would often feel for random guys in her class back in her high school days. But Nick is her friend, surely that’s not what that feeling is. Maybe she’s touch-starved? Maybe it’s because he’s her first real best friend and that automatically makes her more drawn towards him than other friends…

But while a little naive at times, Judy Hopps isn’t stupid. Overtime she does realize that these feelings, these urges, stem from love—a different type of love. And it’s no silly little puppy-love crush. It’s deep, intimate, passionate love, that kind that has her longing to fall into his arms and get lost in his emerald eyes and feel his lips on hers—

Oh sweet cheese and crackers, she thinks as the realization strikes her like a lightning bolt. I’m in love with Nick

So for the rest of the time being, until whichever one of them gives in and confesses, Nick has decided that no matter how much he loves her and wants to be called hers, he won’t because there’s too much that could go wrong, too much for him to lose. Meanwhile Judy has decided that if they don’t get married in the next two days she will eat a rock.

[thefirstlioveyou]

isn’t it interesting that for a good majority of audience, all a straight relationship has to do to be considered peak fiction or writing is to make out and have an unhealthy dynamic that loser cishet men can self insert themselves in? for general audiences, these ships don’t need to prove themselves why they’re good - they just have to be a boy and a girl.

but then you got a fully fleshed out dynamic between two characters of the same sex, where their endgame fulfills their personal arcs and are meant to be; they just work, all while still reaching their full potential as characters. but instead of support and, y’know, basic media literacy, it’s always, “why is everything gay now? why can’t they just be friends?” well, because they only ever are! that’s why!

maybe it’s because i’m queer and will naturally be drawn to media i can resonate with, but it’s incredibly rare for me to believe there’s romance in a fictional het ship. it’s almost always souless, always the same formula. there’s no effort to make the audience fall in love along with them. don’t get me wrong, there are queer relationships that also feel poorly written and i cannot seem to be drawn to, but i’ve never experienced this the same amount of times i have with a het ship; not even close.

however, i never felt this way watching stranger things. lumax, jopper, jancy - they are absolutely believable romances. there’s conflict, there’s reason why they love each other. but most of all, the relationship takes its time to grow. the writers understand pacing is an important factor for writing romance.

this is why mileven always seemed so different from the rest, and why it was always destined to fail because of it. it was forced. literally in the narrative, it is pushed upon mike by his friends. el is kissed and because she sees mike in this pedastal from her trauma regarding male caregivers, she follows through and grows an unhealthy dynamic from the understanding of love she’s only ever been familar with. i genuinely believe she never would have seen him in a romantic light if he hadn’t kissed her. and finally, their character arcs just cannot be fulfilled if they continue to stay together - they just can’t. they just go back to square one with zero growth.

there is no actual appeal to the ship. it was cute the first season! but… that’s it? they kept getting pulled away from each other by the story itself, so they get like no time together. and the time they do, they’re busy breaking up. they have no common interests, they can’t give each other what they want/need, they unintentionally trigger each other’s traumas, still have yet to connect on a personal level.

but, i guess that’s what you call beautifully written television romance.. i guess that’s where we are.

[zeebreezin]

While suffering on my trip, I wrote out Shaw’s first (and to date, only) elaboration on what happened to the Red Court incident. Figure you guys should also get to see it :) Featuring @viric-dreams ‘s Robin Jones as the Second Person POV here.

He sits with his hands folded in his lap, drawn over himself. Long shadows are cast over his face, somewhat obscuring his expression. Shaw’s not a particularly large or imposing person, but at this moment he looks… small.

“It… isn’t an easy time for me to speak on.” His voice is quiet. If he was a different man, you’d almost say he was mumbling, but Shaw forces articulation into each and every word. “But if anyone deserves to know what happened there, in the Court… it’s you.”

Even in jest, he never brings up your responsibility for his capture by Red. Never once. It’s another silent line between the two of you. Shaw never mentions the rations he finds squirreled away. You never mention the Red Court, unless it’s for work. Before this, it never looked like a line that would be crossed.

“All my life, I’ve been guilty of… wanting, I suppose. Wanting better for my family, for my friends, for my people, and for myself. It might not sound like a crime to you, but...” The longer he speaks, the more sure that you are that Shaw’s never spoken of this event to anyone. This is, before it is anything else, a confession. “Wanting better has often been treated as one, in my experience.”

He smiles, dryly, as if reminded of a dark joke. “My wanting is what got my daughter killed, you know, Robin? If I hadn’t pushed her, she wouldn’t ever have been known in the Neath. She never would have…” Shaw turns away. He threatens, for a moment, to sink even deeper into himself and the hateful emotions clouding his gaze. Instead, he takes your hand. “…it is that wanting is my undoing. My terribly selfish desire for more. That was my undoing, in the red court.”

“I am happy with my place, on our side. I am. Even if I do not see eye to eye with some of our fellows on darker matters, I… I am happy with what I do. With what our work does for the world.” Shaw won’t meet your eyes. “But there, in the Red, I was offered a taste of what it could be like. That power, wielded only for me and mine. No pretences of revolution, of grand change, just my will. No need to bury myself, to hide what I want, as opposed to what is best for our goals. The temptation of my desire made manifest.”

Somewhere in the rambling, his voice has shifted - rhoticity lost, as he falls closer to his original cadence. Shaw’s expression is wild, haunted by something you cannot see, but he doesn’t dare stop speaking. “She said I was wasted there, for a cause I half believe in, trying to save the people I trust. I could have had everything- she called me a genius, one wasted trying to play the underdog. I was not imprisoned and tortured there, in that tower. What greeted to me wasn’t pain.” He swallows. “I wasn’t there as an enemy, not at first. Red… wanted me. I was offered the chance to change sides, on a bloody platter.”

Shaw pauses, for a moment. His breathing is shaky. “I did not take it. I told them nothing. I am- I am in no way compromised, in that sense.” He lists into your side, an unconscious need for contact. “But… the offer is open, still. I am more useful to Red active, with the temptation on my mind, than off the board. That might be the only reason I’m still… the offer is still open, Robin.”

You don’t ask if he’s considering it. You know the answer he’d give. You also know the truth.

[galaxytoons]

Hello, design police? We have an emergency, this character is too freaking beautiful for my eyes to perceive. I cannot stress enough how much I love Rosie’s character design and personality, she’s so fun! I can hardly believe this is the first time I’ve actually drawn her! She has that “cool aunt” persona to her, which I totally fw. She’s just a great character, and I can’t wait to see more of her in S2.

[taranida]

The first (probably? maybe?) book Alan Wake forgot he had written

Always, Alan, always.

Alright, in my last post I left a few questions unanswered and I want to clear them up one by one. I honestly didn’t believe that so many people would read the theory, and am very grateful for the attention it has received. This whole blog was created to write down everything my brain (and my dear fellow theorist J) cooked up after playing and replaying AW, AWAN, Control and AWII, and I would like to sort it all by writing about each point in details. It helps to make it make sense and notice the holes.

Now, let’s cut to the chase. The first point I mentioned last time was:

in the guide for the first game we can read excerpts from the book “Taken by the Dark Presence” found in a shoebox that has no author, but has initials of T.Z. and J.Z. on some pages, apparently written in the late 1960’s. And, oh boy, I have lots of questions for this one!

I will lay out what I’ve found and then my thoughts about it, and also how it all ties to “who wrote what”, because the buzzing question of “who wrote whom”is not something I’m interested in exploring atm. At least not until I will deal with the whole “Thomas ‘Tom’ Zane” mystery.

So, the book from the shoebox titled “Taken by the Dark Presence”. It’s filled with tips and tricks about enemies that we encounter on Alan’s journey and how to deal with them. Obviously, there is a lot of info, but I’ve chosen bits that are important for my purposes. Here are those excerpts from it:

It is stated, as you can see, in the introduction to this section of the guide, that focuses on fighting the Taken and Poltergeists, that the information is drawn from the book of an unknown writer, who composed it in the late 1960, with a little hint of initials and a huge hint of the POV being Thomas Zane’s: “corporeal form is my Barbara. My dear, sweet love.”

It does go against my theory of Thomas spending a week with Barbara-the-Dark-Presence in the cabin, not going outside to face Taken; after all, the info there is a text book of “tell me it was written by Thomas Zane without telling it”. If not for mentioning the Dark Presence wearing Barbara’s skin, it would be fine on that account; we have strong evidence that Taken were lurking around even before Thomas wrote his piece to bring Barbara back. Yes, Robert “The Colonel” Hambleton’s article will be repeated here:

And the end result of the poor writer’s visit:

All point to Thomas actually being in the midst of fighting and fleeing, although I cannot even start guessing for what and from what, I will again stress out two pieces of information that point to the Dark Presence playing the role of the loving Barbara, as it was written by Thomas:

And Cynthia’s words:

“The witch looked like her, but it wasn’t. Barbara was sweet. He didn’t understand until it was too late. He tried to undo it, wrote himself, her, everything he’d ever written out of the world.”

Thomas, as we can guess, didn’t understand who hid behind Barbara’s face for some time, and, when he did, was free to tie her, carve her heart out and write this secret poem, mentioned in “This House of Dreams”, that allowed him to escape, giving up his body to the Bright Presence, and drag the real Barbara’s essence (soul, spirit) with what was left of him into a safe heaven, their personal paradise. So, why would he run into the forest and fight bulldozers and Taken?

He didn’t. There is one little thing that makes this book’s author surely not Thomas — the flashbangs. I’m in no way a weapon enthusiast, let alone, specialist, but I’m alright with search engines. As far as the history of this particular grenade goes, it was invented by the British Army in the late 70s and adopted by the US some years later. Thomas Zane, who lived only till 1970, couldn’t have knowledge, let alone, this very item on his hands at the time. Yet it’s clearly stated in the book: “flashbang attacks if possible” and “coax numerous enemies around you, and then drop a flashbang”. In the first game even Alan is surprised to find this weapon not in the police cars:

And he lives in 2010, when flashbangs are already a known weapon, although, as I understand are not so easily obtained by civilians (if not at all; I’m not from US and can rely only on the info from the internet). It seems as if this particular bunch of flashbang-nades was placed there by some otherworldly means.

Taking all that, my belief is that “Taken by the Dark Presence” is a book written into reality by Alan — to help him on his journey — after he decided to make himself a protagonist in the story the Dark Presence was forcing him to write. Through the “Writer in the Cabin” TV’s we see how he slowly changes his stance on his “editor”, how he realises that something is wrong and he must change the story, giving himself the best chance to survive to save Alice (and not to plunge the world into eternal darkness preferably). That will also explain the J.Z. initials on the pages of the book: Alan, during that week, was not thinking clearly and could just mess names up.

As a side note, I’m extremely new to tumblr and have no idea how people here get into conversations, for me the comment section is the way to go, but I see rebloggs with tags or ideas I would love to discuss and have no clue what to do with them. I would highly appreciate if anyone who wants to add something or chat about a post to make themselves known in the comments as well. Or a message; both are great.

[qpenpals]

First of all, support Shubble and support all victims (which is a statement that while said a lot, seems not be followed as frequently, however i hope those who read this abide by it)

Second, I don’t support wilbur soot/william gold, and I don’t think that anyone should after this.

Third, while this situation is not about me, i have feelings and opinions about it that i would like to share, but even if you don’t read anymore,

Please watch shelby’s vod, and maybe try checking her content out, because while i don’t frequently watch her, i enjoy her streams and maybe you will too! her new hardcore series sounds great :)

This is quite long, but honestly this is kind of just for me to collect my thoughts, however if you read to the end thank you<3 im touched :)

ALSO ABUSE TRIGGER WARNING

Alright, so I have loved wilbur soot’s content for a very long time, 4 years or so. I watched the streams and listened to his music from the start. His content is entwined with many of my fond memories.

Earlier today, I had a breakdown over this whole situation, because, as I’ve been quite busy with school, my job, and other assorted things in my life, I found out about this morning. I had woken from a nightmare about my previous abuser. Who i will be talking about a lot more of as they really impacted my views on this situation.

However this nightmare had left me in a fragile mood, my girlfriend was still sleeping and i didn’t want to wake her, so to comfort myself i went to read one of my bookmarked fanfictions, this fanfiction, while i dont remember the title is one that i’ve found comforting for a very long time, so much so that when im stressed my partner has it saved to send to me so i can calm down.

It was a fanfiction about quackity and tubbo, wilbur soot was mentioned maybe 5 times, and the author had deleted it.

This caused me to try and find out why, so i went to their page and they had posted a temporary fic explaining what had been going on.

My first reaction had been disbelief, I then went to research everything. It was a lot to process.

I watched shelby’s vod. Before this i had mainly been disconnected from what i had seen, taking it it but not with any of my own feelings or thoughts really, just processing.

Shelby’s situation hits really hard for me because a lot of it mirrors my own abusive relationship of a few years ago. The wording Wilbur used against her, sounds like what my old partner would use against me. His actions, such as her having to clean and taking care of food, and amenities, were things i had to experience.

Abuse TW:

My old partner would physically abuse me through biting as well, he would claim that he just liked knowing i was his, and yet, like shubble, if i ever used our safe word, which happened so fucking often, he either wouldn’t listen, bite down harder on my neck, or fucking smile at me before letting go.

This got to the point that multiple times he had drawn blood from my neck, that i still have scars from today. And as i watch Shubble talk about her story which is ever so close to mine, I wonder that if I had watched this before, maybe i wouldn’t have stayed in that relationship.

I proceeded to stay in this relationship for 2 years before i realized how much harm he was doing to me, because i truly believed he loved me, because of all the lovebombing he would do.

End of Abuse TW:

And yet i felt pain aside from sympathy or memories, when learning of this, as the content Wilbur had put out had actually helped me out of this relationship, his music was pretty much all i listened to the months of healing after i got out and it helped, the art is good, and yet the author is one i cannot respect nor support in anyway now that i am aware.

i’d suggest watching this tiktok by @lasmanburg that really explains my thoughts and feelings on this

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL1tb5Wg/

Right back to the content. I don’t believe that we should throw it all away, i don’t think that people should be deleting their art, fanfiction, or anything based on Wilbur. Because in the end it’s all art that we have created and interpreted and though the man who inspired it is horrible, all that has been made does not reflect his actions, but instead love and creativity from vast multifaceted community.

One can continue their writing and work because they are the ones creating it, not him, and besides most interpretations of him stray quite far from the source anyways

I think that one can continue to engage in his content as long as one does not directly support him, such as pirating his music, but personally at least right now listening to his music which brought me so much comfort-makes me feel sick. So think i’ll be taking a step back.

I don’t really know how to end this, i just needed to get my thoughts out honestly. I have therapy in an hour. I hope all of you who’ve made it to the end have a wonderful day and drink some water. I wish shelby well, and i’m glad she has been able to share this situation. And with that, I must now leave :)

[tiramisuucakeee]

2. SECOND WISH

( genie in a bottle, jay )

a pair of months had gone by, and jay had grown to be a just king. as he was once before a simple tomb raider and thief, he could understand the struggles of the people and empathize with them.

and you had spent some time out in his kingdom as a humanoid form. of course as a genie you couldn’t just roam around, frightening civilians. so you disguised yourself to look like an average woman.

though the time since jay’s first wish for him seemed like an eternity, for your immortal understanding, it was barely a bat of your eyes.

and soon enough, he revealed his second wish.

jay had grown the nature to invite you over every night to eat, and you complied, you couldn’t really say no to him, and you didn’t want to either, he seemed different than all the other masters.

most of them ignored you until they needed something from you, which you didn’t judge them for, but it still made you feel like a slave to no promise.

and eventually, that thought was so deeply engraved in your free-of-beating heart, consuming your mind. being under jay’s ownership forced you to confront unsettling truths about yourself, and you dreaded that awareness. ignorance felt safer, but the reality of who you were haunted you.

“what are you thinking about?” jay interrupted your train of thought. you sat across him on the long table, dressed in the same exact clothes you’ve always had.

for a moment, you studied him. the jay you had met in that cave still lingered beneath those regal garments. he hadn’t changed at all, in a way that both intrigued and unsettled you.

“i don’t believe my thoughts are the best entertainment you could have,” you scoffed playfully, “you know i also included royal musicians when i created this place right?”

“yes, i know, and i thank you for it,” jay smiled tightly, somehow noticing something was bothering the genie. “please do tell me what you are thinking about.”

“is that your second wish?” you squint your eyes at him, crossing you arms.

“no it’s not, it’s a plea,” he said, an edge of desperation in his voice. you weren’t sure why your thoughts seemed to bother him, but you decided to relent.

“i was thinking about my wishes, i may be a genie but there is still a certain something that i want.” you smile, looking down at the golden cutlery.

“what is it that you wish for?” jay furrows his brows.

“hearing it from you, i really wouldn’t word it like that, it’s more of, a thought, rather than a wish. i’ve thought about myself for so long, so so long. after centuries i still don’t know who i am supposed to be, or if all that i am is just someone to be owned, shaped to the likes of her master.”

“as a genie you most likely only are for that.” jay continued your doubt. “but i’d like to think that we - humans - are all creations of everyone around us, so maybe you’re exactly like me.”

“you’re saying i’m human? me? the genie? immortal being who cannot die? that’s amusing,” you snort.

“you don’t need to be in the form of a human to be one, same as some humans lose their humanity, and become monsters, i image you’ve met some already?” he raises a brow.

“i have,” you look away. “it’s pretty heart breaking.”

“can i ask you a question,” jay inquires, to which you reply. “you need not of my permission, master.”

“would you please stop calling me that?” jay groans.

“what? master?” you ask. “it’s what you are”

“call me something more… more humane, what about… friend?”

“friend? but i’m-”

“i don’t care if you’re a genie or a rat, i want you to be my friend, and that is not a wish, that’s something only you can reciprocate, we can’t be friends if you don’t want to.” his words hung heavily between you, like a line drawn in the sand. you could feel the tension crackle, an unspoken battle between the walls you’d built and the vulnerability he laid bare. his earnestness was disarming, yet it ignited a fear within you, the fear of connection, of being seen as someone.

“i…” you observed his face, like a canvas of gentle strength, where soft angles meet a quiet resolve, while the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression invites admiration.

“are you asking me that because you feel uncomfortable with what i call you?” you inquired, still not answering. your mind couldn’t fathom the thought of companionship.

yes, you granted any wish someone wanted, but apart from that, there wasn’t anything you could offer, so you just concluded he wanted you to call him something else

“i don’t want you to call me a friend without being one, so i figured you would want to be my friend.” said jay, taking the golden cup in his hand and drinking wine from it.

was that truly the only reason? you have observed him for a while, how he kept to himself, not interacting much with other kings or queens, neither his own people. was he lonely?

you know loneliness can drive the human being mad, and make them irrational, and the last thing you wanted was for him to not be on the right mind and wish for destruction.

“i will be your friend if that’s what you want,” you said, all concecuences taken to count.

“and is that what you want, y/n?” jay stood up, and slowly made his way over to you, each step making your mind race. he knelt beside your chair, his gaze locked on yours, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow across his face. “after being locked up for a century alone, waiting for someone to free you, don’t you need company?” he reached out to you.

he felt real, you feel him, in every single part of yourself. it was as if his touch had consumed you entirely. “what are you doing to me?” you breathed out, feeling intoxicated. where the gods finally punishing you for messing with their perfect creations?

“what do you mean?” jay retreated his hand, afraid he had done something wrong, maybe it was prohibited to touch a magic being.

“yes i want to be your friend okay?” you gulped, and stood up quickly. “i’m retreating to my lamp for tonight, call me only if you want to make a wish.”

jay stared at the empty space where you had been, his heart pounding. the weight of the unfinished conversation hung heavily, the unfulfilled tension lingering like a whispered promise. he could still feel the heat of your gaze and the intoxicating pull of your presence.

as the silence enveloped him, he wondered what it meant to befriend a being of such power - and if he could dare to wish for more.

in the middle of the night, jay tossed restlessly in bed, the silence weighing heavily. something felt off, not having you there, not knowing how to reach you. the idea of being without your presence gnawed at him. he was a king now, yet without you, he would be nothing. all his power and titles meant little if he couldn’t fix whatever had gone wrong between you both.

he just wanted to be a king, and now that he was, he had nothing else he wished for more than that.

but his actions betrayed him, as he shoved his feathered cover off of him, and walked over to the lamp, hesitating for a second, before softly running his hand along it.

he didn’t care about anything else in this moment, jay had to fix this. whatever he did to make you uncomfortable, he would apologize.

“y/n…?” his voice was low, barely above a whisper, as he crouched closer to the lamp, as if it might help him bridge the gap between the two of you. “can we speak?”

“are you ready to tell me your second wish?” you asked loudly, laying in your chambers at the castle, looking out the window at the infinite miles of sand.

jay closed his eyes, frustration washing over him. his heart raced, and he tugged a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head. “no… not yet.” his voice cracked slightly, betraying the rawness of his frustration. he let out a shaky breath before speaking again, his words edged with urgency. “i beg of you, let me speak to you. there’s something i need to say.”

you almost wanted to apologize to him, his voice so desperate, so raw, it almost made you cave in. selfishly, you wanted to be the one to ease his pain, knowing you were the only one who could be able to. but you shouldn’t. jay had nobody for him, just like you. and you wouldn’t become the one who stayed. a genie was always temporary.

your stomach tightened, each word cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. “if this isn’t about a wish, i won’t hear it. goodnight, jay.”

jay, on the other hand, his heart almost dropped. he thought that you two had grown closer in the time spent together, he didn’t want to make your job as a genie something draining and boring. but maybe, after all, he was just one man of billions you had met, one of countless others you’d granted wishes for, and soon forgotten.

“does that also mean you don’t want to hear it?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with hurt. he’d somehow figured you out, understood you in ways you couldn’t even explain. after all, he had been human more time than you could ever be.

you stayed silent, fighting the tightness in your chest, forcing your eyes to stay fixed on the endless stretch of sand outside the window. the pull to answer him was there, but you couldn’t give in, not this time.

“i see. then i want to make my second wish,” he spoke, determined to get an answer out of you. “i wish to go inside the lamp with you for tonight.” the words hung in the air, a challenge, a plea, and something deeper you couldn’t quite place. your breath caught, your heart thudding in your chest.

“jay, what?” you almost jumped in your seat, looking up at the sky. “you can’t do that! you shouldn’t! don’t waste your wish.”

“i’m afraid the words already came out my mouth, there’s nothing you can do about it apart from granting it, can you?” jay smirked.

sighing, you prepared yourself for what was about to happen, which you had no clue what it would be. and clasped your hands together tightly.

smoke started coming out of the lamp, enveloping jay’s figure, as he felt himself slowly being dragged into it.

inside the lamp, the air felt heavier, the walls thick with the tension between you. long-forgotten hallways twisted around you, a maze you had grown familiar with over the centuries. but now, you stood in front of the man who had just appeared, anger boiling beneath your skin.

“you are just so, so-" you groaned, “i don’t even have the words. why did you wish for this?!”

jay got closer, grabbing your arms, “it’s okay, call me stupid, anything you want, but don’t push me away. after all these months, i really missed your company, that’s why i wished to come here, y/n.”

you shook your head, shrugging him off. “jay, you have one single wish left, after that you’ll never see me again, you shouldn’t say things like that.” the words felt like a wall between you, but deep down, you couldn’t help the quiet ache that followed them. because part of you wanted to believe him.

jay’s eyes darkened, the intensity in his voice almost painful as he took another step forward, his hands reaching for you again, this time more urgent. “i do not care,” he said, his words cutting through the silence. “the day you leave me, i will hurt as much as i want, i will miss you until the day of my death, i will be haunted by your absence. but please… just let me have this night. and the rest of our days.”

there was a rawness to his plea, an edge of desperation that shook you, rattled something deep inside. his words were heavy with sincerity but the fear of what it would mean, what it could cost you both, made it hard to breathe.

you gulped, noticing the small gap between you, which almost played your mind.

“okay,” you nodded, not being able to look up and meet his eyes anymore. telling yourself this would all be over as soon as he made his third wish, you accepted, “you can stay.”

"this is... just amazing, i never imagined a place like this existed," jay murmured, his voice full of awe as he laid his head back, sinking deeper into the warm water.

after showing him around the sprawling, labyrinthine castle - watching him nearly get lost in the hundreds of rooms - deciding to take him to the nearby oasis had felt like a fleeting act of weakness. but maybe, just maybe, you wanted to give in to the idea of being here, in this moment. just for tonight.

you both were in swimming clothes now, the water around you glimmering under the moonlight, the golden sand stretching out beyond the oasis. palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, casting long shadows on the surface.

"you get used to it when you're here every day," you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you pulled your hair up into a messy knot, trying to keep it out of the water. it was a small, mundane act, but in the quiet of the oasis, it felt more intimate than anything else.

jay watched you, his gaze intense and focused, like he was trying to decipher something you weren't saying. his eyes traced your movements with a precision that made you feel exposed, as if he was trying to understand the pieces of you that you kept hidden. the way he observed you—it was almost unnerving, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away either.

“what do you really want?” he then asked, coming in closer to stand next to you.

you furrowed your brows at his question, not understanding the nature of it. as a divine being, even if you have interacted with humans your whole life, they were still different in many ways and very difficult to understand.

"in the moment? ah, no clue, maybe something to drink" you shot back, trying to deflect, but the warmth of his soft laugh caught you off guard.

"no," he said, still chuckling, "i mean, in general, what would your dream life be like?"

you blinked at him, momentarily lost in thought, then replied with a tone of nonchalance, "my dream life would be being a genie." there was a cluelessness to your words, but also a bitterness that had become familiar over time. "i’m sure anybody would want to live in a castle, with free food, free water, and magic of their own."

jay paused, confusion flickering across his face as he took in your answer. "okay..." he said, as though trying to make sense of it all. "but say there was a normal woman in a village, living with her family - no magic, no wishes, no genie divinity - what would the dream life she could have be like? and, being a genie is not an option."

the absurdity of his question made you pout, a playful frown tugging at your lips. "i guess... everything about that already sounds like a dream," you muttered, almost more to yourself than him. "she's free. she gets to do and say anything she wants. of course, i can too, but only to an extent. i’m always thrown back in here after the third wish."

you shrugged, the words leaving you in a soft huff, the exhaustion of centuries weighing on you in that single, vulnerable moment. “she is more free that i will ever be.”

“if i, never wish again, say, would it be possible for you to stay in the castle?” jay asked.

you shook your head, that familiar, aching truth slipping out. "no, that's not possible. if you deliberately chose not to make any more wishes, i have to go back to the lamp as well." your words felt heavy, almost like a finality you weren't ready to admit. "but it's okay. i'm sure your life will still be great after i leave."

“i do not think so,”

“why not?”

jay stepped closer, his voice more serious now, as though the weight of the moment was sinking in. "because you're the one who gave me all this," he said, his eyes not leaving yours. "you're the one who made my life so great. i don’t know what i would do with myself if you leave."

you stared at him, disbelief rising. "i didn't make your life great, jay. you did that. i’m just... a genie. i give wishes. i don't control your life, i just make it possible for you to get what you want, but you’re the king of a whole land, you can’t just forget about it."

"no," jay said, shaking his head, his voice low and edged with frustration. "it's not that simple. you made me see what i actually want, not what i wish for. you made me feel like i could-" he cut himself off, swallowing hard, eyes blazing.

you crossed your arms, taking a step back, the anger bubbling up now. "you don't get it. i'm not here for your convenience. i'm not some tool to make your life easier. i'm not someone you can just-" you stopped short, feeling the words hanging in the air. and yet, there was something more behind your words. a crack in your voice that betrayed everything you felt.

jay's expression hardened. "so what? you want me to just accept that you're leaving? after everything we've been through?"

"yes! because it's the way it is!" your voice raised a notch, frustration boiling over, as the water seemed to get turbulent with your emotions. "i'm not supposed to stay. i'm not supposed to want to stay. but you... you're not going to change that, jay!"

he moved closer, his eyes burning into yours. the air between you was electric now, thick with the tension of unspoken emotions. "you don't get it, do you?" he breathed, his voice low and dangerous. "i don't want this to end. not like this."

your breath hitched, your pulse pounding in your ears. "well, maybe you don't understand, but-"

before you could finish, he cut you off. in an instant, the air between you crackled with energy, your anger and frustration colliding in a rush of heat. jay grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him, and before you could react, his lips crashed into yours, desperate and urgent.

your body froze for a moment, not out of resistance, but out of shock. you didn't know how to react, how to process the way he kissed you-rough, almost frantic, as though he was trying to make you feel every ounce of the frustration and longing that had been building between you. his hands moved to your back, pulling you flush against him as if he could anchor you there, make you stay.

his lips were demanding, and your heart raced, fear and something else swirling in your chest. fear of how easily you were losing control, how easily you were letting him pull you in.

but your body betrayed you, responding to him in ways you didn't want to admit. your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, the kiss deepening as the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you. you felt the heat of him, the urgency of his touch, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

for a moment, all the tension, all the anger, and all the confusion melted away, leaving only the rawness of the connection between you.

when he finally pulled back, both of you breathless, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes searching yours, wild and desperate. "i don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

you looked up at him, heart hammering, but you couldn't find the words. everything inside you screamed to say something, to admit the truth, but the fear of it - the fear of what this meant, of what this could do - kept you silent. but deep inside, being with him, right now, you have never felt more free.

jay's grip on you tightened, his voice barely a whisper. "you don't have to pretend around me tonight, y/n. i know you feel something in that heart of yours, just let yourself free."

you swallowed hard, your mind spinning. you wanted to scream at him, to push him away, to say that this wasn't what you wanted, but it would be the greatest lie you could ever say. because you wanted this, more than you were willing to admit.

“i don’t want to lose what i have, i can’t just abandon everything i am, just because i want to run around the human world,” fear held you back. fear of losing the only thing you had left, the only thing you really had, was this, the lamp, yourself, the genie.

jay’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, his touch soft but insistent. "you don't have to be afraid," he murmured, his lips so close you could felt the warmth of his breath against your lips. "i’m not going anywhere you’re not, even if you leave, i’ll find you, i can’t let you go like this, not when you don’t want it."

your heart thudded harder, your chest tightening in the face of a truth you weren’t sure you could fully accept, let alone voice. but in that moment, as his eyes softened and his expression was nothing but open, you realized that you didn’t need to say anything at all.

you leaned in slightly, the smallest of movements, as if testing his words, if they were truthful or not. his lips brushed against yours, soft, certain. you didn’t pull away anymore. instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, leaning into the kiss, letting it be a quiet thing, a confirmation of your feelings.

it was gentle at first, just the briefest brush of lips, a whisper of a touch that held so much promise. and the kiss deepened again, just enough for you to feel the intensity of his emotions and loyalty to you, the warmth and tenderness he was trying so hard to convey.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours once again, you were both breathless, hearts pounding. his voice was a soft murmur, "i’m not going anywhere, y/n, you have my word."

and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe it, to believe a man’s words.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

prev chapter.

next chapter.

all chapters.

[baileypie-writes]

My Thoughts on Wonderful Precure: Episodes 16-20

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Episode 16 - The Mystery of the Mirror Stone:

This episode was… very strange. Especially the crossover. I don’t know anything about the characters featured, but they sure were odd. They didn’t add anything to the plot either. And the mix of art styles was very distracting. I think they should’ve drawn them in Precure’s art style, similar to how Wonderful and Friendy were drawn in their show.

I was surprised that Iroha’s parents found out about everything. Usually, the parents never find out. But I was pleasantly surprised by their reactions. They seemed really happy to be able to talk to Komugi. And Komugi seems to feel the same! Did you see her tail wagging? So cute! I honestly wish they would’ve found out about them being Pretty Cure as well. I know they would’ve been worried, but if you’ve already told them this much, why not go all the way?

I’m also happy that we got to find out the story of the Mirror Stone. It’s very interesting. I hope we get to find out even more about it in the future!

My Rating for This Episode:

7/10 - C-

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Episode 17 - I Will Protect You:

This episode was a good one! We had lots of bonding between characters. I loved the picnic scene. The fact that Satoru can cook, and Iroha cannot is so cute. We got to see lots of baby animals, as well as Mayu as a baby(which was probably my favorite. She’s so cute!).

But the best part of this episode was definitely Cure Nyammy’s full reveal and transformation. Her transformation is by far the best I’ve seen in the entirety of Pretty Cure. It was just so amazing! Blue Cures are always out here serving(even though I don’t see Nyammy as blue)! It’s also cool how she and Lillian get a whole new transformation item! I was really wondering about that. Though, I’m a bit bummed that she doesn’t say “Three, two, nyan!”

My Rating for This Episode:

9/10 - A-

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Episode 18 - Mayu’s Feelings, Yuki’s Feelings:

Happy 1000 episodes of Pretty Cure! I can’t believe I’ve watched that many! The little picture of Cure Wonderful and Cure Black at the end was so cute!

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I personally get why Yuki is so protective of Mayu. She’s right. Every time Mayu’s with them, she gets in danger. But I think she fails to realize that Mayu chooses to be with them for a reason. She wants to help the Garugaru’s too.

I’m really excited for Cure Lillian next episode! I think she’ll get Cure Nyammy to chill out with the attacking haha. If her transformation sequence is as good as Nyammy’s, I’ll be happy. Also, I can’t wait to see their duo attack! Hopefully it’s better than Wonderful and Friendy’s. Their’s is probably the worst one I’ve seen(in my opinion).

My Rating for This Episode:

4/10 - F

Episode 19 - The Birth of Cure Lillian:

I’ve been waiting for this one!

First off, I love Cure Lillian’s transformation! I still like Nyammy’s better though.

I wonder if the hats the characters wear have to do with anything. Because for Lillian, who wears a top hat, her transformation had curtains. So sort of performance/showtime vibes, which kinda does with it? I hope the hats get explained.

Also, I never knew that her name was Lillian because of yarn. But I guess it makes sense, being cat themed and all!

I love how after she transformed, she immediately got into the “fighting” spirit. Other shy characters typically scream and/or run away, but not her. She was just gracefully dodging the attacks, and it was so cool!

It was so nice and heartwarming to see Yuki break her cool and sassy character. It shows how much she really cares for Mayu. I just know they’ll make a great team.

All in all, I think Cure Lillian is awesome! I’m so excited to see more of her, and even more excited to see her and Cure Nyammy’s “weapon” next episode!

My Rating for This Episode:

9/10 - A-

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Episode 20 - Together, We’re Not Scared:

Oh my word, this episode was awesome! It might be one of my new favorites!

First off, Cure Nyammy and Cure Lillian got added into more parts of the intro! I love how they look, and now the team looks more complete!

I’m so glad that Nyammy finally agreed to join the team. I’m sure she’ll do very well. And next episode, she’ll go to school! I’m so excited! She’s really becoming a part of the group!

And lastly, let’s talk about Nyammy and Lillian’s attack! It was pretty cool!

I mean…

“Nyanderful to you”??

“Nyan, deux, trois”???

Come on! I love it!!

I wish they got cooler “weapons” though. Even in the show, the Amity Ribbon Tambourine looks like plastic. Toei could’ve made them look better.

But all in all, this was a very good episode! I can’t wait for the next one!

My Rating for This Episode:

10/10

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Overall Score for These Episodes:

78% - C+

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~~baileypie-writes

[sad-eyed-lady-of-the-paperbacks]

Thoughts on 2.3

I can never read this chapter without tears. Zosima’s attentiveness to the concerns and the pains of common people, and of women in particular, is beautiful. It is a sad irony that although regard for women and for others who were marginalised is so striking and features so prominently in the accounts of Jesus, through the centuries, such tender concern for women has been abysmally rare amongst men—particularly those in positions of power like Zosima—who claim to be followers of Christ. Not only have such men failed to reflect this love, but they have even been some of the most zealous and hateful oppressors of the marginalised. Zosima, in contrast, is practising what he preaches. These suffering women are drawn to him for his refreshing, sincere care, and they are willing to travel great distances for the balm he offers to their suffering.

Right away in this chapter, sex and class are highlighted. It’s specifically stated that “there was on this occasion a crowd made up solely of women”, and the landowning Khokhlakovas are waiting “in the accommodation reserved for upper-class female visitors.”

There are a lot of dead mothers in this novel, but the Khokhlakovas are the reverse of this. Lise is instead fatherless, and her mother is very present.

Mme. Khokhlakova was only 28 when she was widowed, and the fact that she is widowed is the most info we ever get about her husband, as far as I recall. We don’t even know his name; later on, we’ll get Mme. Kh’s first name and patronymic, but Lise’s patronymic is never given. Of Mr Khokhlakov, all we have is a void.

Zosima walks past the visiting monk and the prominent landowner Mme. Khokhlakova and goes straight to the common people first.

I’ve linked it before, but I will once again link this source on the klikushi (warning for spoilers). A comparison is drawn between the narrator’s recollection of seeing these wailing women as a child and the horse dream from Crime and Punishment. In both cases, the child is concerned by the spectacle of suffering that is the defenceless female victim (the horse is very specifically a mare) while the adults around him are callous to it and downplay it.

Another thing from that source that is interesting is the fact that while the Freudian and Platonian models of the hysterical woman are characterised by a lack of sex or an obsession with sex, for which marriage, sex, and motherhood were supposedly the cure, this is not so with the klikushi as Dostoevsky portrays them. In their case, it is the fact that marriage, sex, and motherhood are bound up with violence and hardship which causes their shrieking. And I just have to quote this directly, it’s so profound:

In this respect, their hysteria is still related to the womb. But their hysteria is the bodily expression of the anguish these mothers feel in response to giving birth to children-to bringing them from the safety of their wombs out into a world where mothers and children suffer, into a world where God allows this suffering to happen.

Liza Knapp, “Mothers and Sons in The Brothers Karamazov: Our Ladies of Skotoprigonyevsk.” A New Word on The Brothers Karamazov, Robert Louis Jackson, 2004

A lot has already been said regarding the autobiographical inspiration of the grieving mother of little three year old Alexei. I just want to note that her name, Nastasya, means “resurrection.” And just how poignantly her grief is depicted—this is what makes me cry every time. And how Zosima validates her grief, he doesn’t criticise it as a lack of faith. Regardless of whether or not she believes her little boy is in heaven, regardless of whether or not it’s fair or makes any sense that a God who already has billions of angels would take a mother’s little boy to be one more angel in heaven with him, the fact is that he’s not there with her, the fact is that she cannot hear his little pat-pat-pat feet any more. And that is soul-crushing and devastating, and of course she cannot be comforted—she should feel no need to be comforted. She has a right to her tears. And his words to her are just so beautiful.

The young widow is very strongly implied to have killed her abusive old husband, but Zosima stops her before she confesses it publicly, which is very interesting. His response to her too, is very compassionate. I love @confessionofanardentheart’s reflections on grief and guilt in this chapter

[quibbs126]

Well alright, someone said yes, so I’ll post the designs

Warning, these are kind of old and not very good art. Or maybe I’m just being self critical, some of it I think still looks neat

Let’s start with the ones that I made look cool and drew both the Stand Human and Human Stand

Unfortunately I could never figure out a Stand design for Okuyasu, so he only has his half done

Why does the lettering actually look kind of cool…like it doesn’t look half assed at all like it normally does. Maybe because I was intentionally trying to make it look cool

I made Joseph a scarf because I remember his scarf being a notable part of his design. Also Hermit Purple was vines, so equal treatment

Giorno looks like that because I recall at the time some people saying how Golden Experience looked like young Haruno but GER looked more like current day Giorno, so I kind of took that idea and made him look like Haruno, though maybe I took things too literal. Also that’s why Oro looks like GER. Also Oro is supposed to have a somewhat unsettling stare, since people say GER looks kind of creepy

Also another thing I want to mention about Polnareff, specifically his name, so that’s not an 80s song, that’s from 2014, it’s the name of a song from a French artist I liked. So realistically it probably wouldn’t be used but I thought it sounded cool. And hey, the song itself samples a Michael Jackson song, so eh?

Anyways, so something I should mention about this style, so at the time I was obsessed with this other artist’s, @droolingdemon style, and I tried desperately to recreate it. I think by this point I just tried to integrate it with my current style, but that’s why the art style looks the way it does. I might make another post about the subject on its own though

Anyways, onto the Chibi style Stand humanizations

I’ll just list some things I remember from their characters

So I did eventually consider turning Purple Haze into a dog, I think specifically a greyhound, but I didn’t know how to draw dogs, so that never happened

Stone Free never takes off those sunglasses and never lets anyone see what she looks like under them. As it turns out, she’s actually blind, and this would be revealed around the snail part in the story (assuming there are still snails), as she’s unaffected, and I believe she’s told to drive a car because of it, but she can’t, and when asked why, she says it’s because she’s blind (and that this was probably a bad time to relay that info)

The three in the last pic are all different characters who end up sharing the same Stand as it gets passed around between them. Whitesnake is part of the prison staff, C-Moon is just an unfortunate young lady who just happens to get stuck with the Stand after something happens to Whitesnake, and Made in Heaven is I think a horse rider who gets the Stand from C-Moon, probably forcibly taking it from her (and she likely dies) as he knows what it is. Also, Whitesnake and Made in Heaven were dating

Oh yeah, also the first Standswap art I did, which was also Chibi style, I just singled it out because of that

Featuring Star Platinum and The World. Not sure I ever found a definitive design for The World, but maybe I did in my sketchbook

Anyways, so then we have some random headshot ones I did

Let’s see, in the first one we have GER looking ominous, Purple Haze, the blushing one is Tusk Act 1, and buns is Ball Breaker. Then for the second one we have Whitesnake, Under World, Killer Queen and Scary Monsters

I believe one thing I did for the Part 7 swap storyline was to have Tusk have a journey of slowly transitioning from a woman as Act 1 to a man as Act 4. I know I’ve drawn Act 4 Tusk but I think it was in my sketchbook, so I cannot show it. Also I believe Ball Breaker was trans too, just male to female, and where Tusk got the idea that you can just be your preferred gender if you want. Also note that at the time, I did not actually really understand how transitioning worked. Though to be honest, I think the main thing was that I didn’t know hormones existed, or that transitioning could be more than just making yourself look like your preferred gender

Anyways, on to Scary Monsters. I believe he rode horseback without a saddle. Also, he started out with one Stand (Dr Ferdinand) but then got another (Diego)

Then with Killer Queen, I believe he was a mute cop. But also secretly a serial killer. Also he might have had a cat like face

And yeah, I think that’s about it, hope you liked it

[stiles-o-dylan24]

You Calm My Chaos Chapter 1 - Always and Forever

Author: @stiles-o-dylan24​​​  Pairing: Klaus x Rosie (eventually) Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: language, canon violence, mentions of needles, blood, pregnancy, hints of unwanted pregnancy, A/N: officially in the originals episodes, let's do this! This episode was really just an extended version of what happened in the TVD episode so I'm sorry it's short! SERIES SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

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After Elijah leaves to go and talk to Klaus, more of the witches from her coven show up in the Mausoleum with us to talk to Sophie. 

“Marcel and his vampires are out of control– something has to be done” Sophie tells the others and Agnes scoffs lightly “And the solution is to bring in more vampires?”

“These aren’t just any vampires, Agnes. They’re the Originals.”

Agnes shakes her head at her and continues “What makes you think you can control the hybrid?”

“She can’t” Elijah’s voice says from behind us all of a sudden and we all turn around to look at him while he continues “I’m not entirely certain that I can, either,” he walks closer towards Sophie “But now that your coven has drawn his ire, I have a question– what prevents my brother from murdering you instead of cooperating?”

Sophie makes a face and reaches over to grab a needle, lifting it up to show Elijah. She sticks the needle into her hand and I immediately gasp, lifting up my hand and seeing the blood appearing on my hand “Ow!”

Elijah looks over at me, his eyes taking in the blood on my hand and I glare over at her “What the hell is this?”

Sophie forces a smile and explains “The spell my sister performed, the one that got her killed? It didn’t just confirm the pregnancy. It linked me to Rosemary– so anything that happens to me, happens to her, which means her life is in my hands. Klaus may have made his decision that her and this baby don’t actually mean to him what we thought they did, however it’s very clear what they already mean to you. If I have to hurt Rosemary– or worse– to ensure that I have your attention, I will.”

Elijah looks over at me, slightly amused before he directs his words towards her “You would dare threaten an Original?”

“I have nothing to lose” Sophie shrugs, shaking her head like she fully believes those words to be true “You have until midnight to get Klaus to change his mind.”

Elijah walks over to me and pulls me off to the side, holding his hand up towards one of the witches who wants to argue this “I just need a moment to speak with her.”

They back off and I cross my arms over my chest, trying to breathe out all of my nervousness and Elijah softens his face “I cannot excuse his behavior but I want to ensure you know that he is acting out, letting his anger take control because he is scared– this has nothing to do with you.”

I nod my head softly, shrugging my shoulders “I mean it has a little to do with me.”

“The most happiness I’ve seen from Niklaus has been since he’s known you– there’s peace in his eyes when he looks at you,” Elijah says and I slowly look up at him, watching as he softens his face and continues “I saw it that first night at the ball and I saw it even more in his eyes just now before he shut you out– he wants this... he wants this with you.”

I’m not sure exactly what to say to that because I saw the same thing tonight, there was a moment where he was looking at my stomach and the look in his eyes was something I have never seen before. I also watched his walls go up before he so easily threw me away– which stung and even if Elijah can convince him that he does actually want this... I don’t know how ‘in this’ I will be with him. 

⋇・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・⋇

Midnight comes entirely too quickly for my liking and Agnes is all too happy to point that out “His time is up– what’re you gonna do now, Sophie?”

“I’m gonna do what I said I was gonna do” Sophie answers and I sit up a little straighter, looking over at Sabine when she says “What, kill the girl? Kill yourself?”

“Klaus does not care about the child” Agnes states and Elijah’s voice thankfully chimes in “I do.”

Elijah walks into the mausoleum and he’s carrying a body wrapped in a blanket, continuing to direct his words to Sophie “And I bring in proof of my intent to help you– the body of your fallen friend, which I procured from Marcel himself.”

“Jane-Anne” Sophie mutters and Elijah nods his head, the look on his face genuine “May she be granted peace. Klaus will agree to your terms. I just need a little more time.”

“You had your time– it’s passed” Agnes remarks angrily and Sophie turns to her “Shut up, Agnes!”

Elijah looks between them, his eyes flashing over to me for a moment before he looks back at Sophie “For now, accept the deal– Rose and the child remain unharmed, or Klaus will kill you all,” he starts to walk away, nodding once at me before he turns around again “And I will help him.”

Once Elijah has left the witches start to prepare to lay Jane-Anne’s body to rest. Her body is clad in white and they lay her down, surrounding her body with flowers before Sophie starts to perform rituals around her sister’s body. 

I feel like I really shouldn’t be here, however, I can’t stop watching what the coven is doing to lay Jane-Anne’s soul to rest. There is sadness to everything they’re doing but there is also a beauty to it all. It’s very peaceful and comforting to see.

Sophie kisses her fingers and presses them to her sister’s forehead, holding her fingers there for a few more moments before everyone is silent.

Elijah arrives a little while later and he has a triumphant look on his face when he stops in front of Sophie, the rest of her coven standing behind her. 

“Klaus has agreed to your terms and says that you have yourself a deal.”

✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦

After my graduation and saying my see you later, if I'm ever able to leave New Orleans again, to everyone in Mystic Falls, Elijah drives us to a massive white house outside of the city.

He rounds the middle of the circle driveway and parks in front of the house. I lean forward to look out the windshield at the house at the same time I open my passenger door. Elijah moves to stand in the open door and holds his hand out to help me out of the car.

I set my hand in his and while I stand up out of the car I look up at the house and raise my brows towards him, asking slowly “So who lives here exactly?”

He just smiles and nods his head towards the house, stating simply “You do.”

With that revelation we walk inside and I slowly look around, shaking my head at the expanse of the inside “Umm, I don't think–”

“This way, Rose” Elijah interrupts and has me follow him up the stairs. On the way I notice how every piece of furniture in every room is covered with white sheets and I can't help but wonder who used to live here.

Elijah leads me into one room in particular and indicates I should pull off one of the sheets. I do as he silently directs and immediately start coughing from all the dust that is disturbed from the sheet. I move my hand over my mouth and cough again while I look at the crib that the sheet was previously covering. 

Elijah looks over in concern, asking “Are you alright?” and I cough again, waving him off “It's just dust– when's the last time anyone was here? This place feels ancient”

Elijah smiles softly, nodding his head as he looks around the room “Yes, it's been quite some time, however, it should serve our purposes," he looks at me again, continuing "It’s a sanctuary from our business in the Quarter. Right now, you are the most important person in this family, Rose and you need a good home.” 

I quickly look back at him with his words and he slightly tilts his head to the side “Forgive me but I’m curious… in all this time, has anyone asked you how you feel?”

“About having some miracle baby with my psychotic soulmate?” I try to joke, Klaus' conversation with me the other night not really making me feel better about the whole thing... even if he did seem genuine in his apology. I told him I needed to think everything over about this while I went to my graduation... however, the past two days didn't really give me any more clarity.

Elijah barely smiles, correcting what he truly was asking “About being a mother.”

Silently I breathe out deeply, looking down for a moment before I look up at him again “Klaus actually asked if this would be something I wanted once”

“He did?” Elijah asks and I chuckle softly “Yeah, it was brought up when I asked him if he would ever want the cure so he could have kids of his own– wasn’t aware he had his own loophole on that topic but anyways” I shake my head, looking back at him “I was abandoned as a baby, did you know that?”

Elijah shakes his head and I nod slowly, continuing “I was brought to my dad’s doctor office by some firefighters–" I chuckle sadly, admitting "Or well, that's what I've been told followed by there isn't anything else my parents knew about me... not even the day I was actually born." I clear my throat and continue "I had amazing parents– the perfect family for the next sixteen years until they died but I have always been terrified I would never be able to live up to how good of a mom she was, even more so now that she's gone and she wouldn't be here to help me do this–" I pause, feeling the ever present wave of hormones hitting me and making me want to cry even more than usual.

I sniffle and cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep my voice strong while I look at him again and tell him honestly "So to answer your question… I really don’t know how to feel about becoming a mother because I never thought I would be one. I have never actually thought I would be a good mom and ever since I’ve been told I have this baby growing inside of me I have this terrible feeling in my gut that I’m going to fail this baby– that I’m not going to be able to protect them from everything bad in our lives, including me.”

“That’s exactly why you’re going to be an amazing mother, sweet Rose” he says and my brow twitches with his words, the wave of tears threatening to move even stronger. Elijah smiles softly and continues “I will be here to help you through motherhood every step of the way. Like it or not you have me as a brother now," I chuckle gratefully with his words, reaching up to wipe under my eyes and he smiles, continuing "And I will always protect you, Rose– you have my word on that.”

“And noble Elijah always keeps his word” Klaus’ voice interrupts our bonding moment and we look over at the doorway. Klaus is leaning against the doorframe, smiling hesitantly towards me.

I spin away from his soft eyes and hesitant smile, walking towards another sheet to pull off and revealing a dresser underneath.

“Is it done?” Elijah asks and I look over my shoulder at them, watching as Klaus nods and slowly looks away from me to look at his brother “As a matter of fact, yes– your underhanded deal worked quite well. Marcel was only too happy to accept my blood even as he accepted my heartfelt apologies. His man, Thierry, yet lives and I remain a welcome guest in the French Quarter. My only concern now is this coven of impudent witches.”

“I believe them to be honorable” Elijah says, lifting his hand out to indicate towards me while he continues “They did release Rose to me, although they haven’t been entirely forthcoming. Marcel obviously has something they need– they don’t want him dead and there must be a reason why.”

"Yes, well–" Klaus nods, looking at me quickly before looking back at Elijah "We will figure it out easy enough."

Elijah looks between us and makes a noise, offering "I will grab your bags from the car–"

"Oh I can do that" I interject, however, he's already moving towards the door "Not in your condition– I have them."

"My condition?" I scoff "It's two duffle bags Elijah" I grumble unhappily that he's already leaving me alone and watch through the railing as he waves me off and descends the stairs.

When I look over at Klaus again I see that he's brave enough to smirk towards me, teasing "Afraid to be alone with me, love?"

I glare at him, setting my hands on my hips "You really think this boils down to me just not wanting to be alone with you?" I say and his smirking face falters a bit while he admits "No, I imagine there's a bit more to it than that."

I laugh once with no humor behind it and look away from him, my eyes settling on the crib once more "It's been two days, I'm sorry but I need more time."

Klaus steps further into the room and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest "I told you to take all the time you needed, love and I meant it," he pauses and I slowly look over at him, seeing him smile sadly before he continues "I need you to stay in this house and make sure you never leave or ever go into the Quarter" I make a noise, however, he doesn't let me say anything while he finishes with "And you cannot tell anyone, even Caroline or Elena that you're here."

"What?" I draw my brows together harshly, scoffing in the back of my throat "You want me to stay here alone? For nine months? Without telling my family? Are you insane?"

"For the time being yes I need you to do this" he corrects, keeping his unwavering eyes connected to mine while he informs "It's not safe for you in the Quarter and you won't be alone in the house all the time– I will be staying here with you–" he pauses, continuing on a little nervously "If you'll have me that is."

"It's your house" I remark with just a hint of sarcasm and he tilts his head to the side "This is your home now, Rosie– if you want it to be."

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Posted: 11 September 2023