#i dont know how to explain what inspired this but. something something grief of the past bleeding into a relief from the future (present)

[solivagantingrebel]

Thinking about how... Ghost never felt wanted, appreciated or loved in his childhood home, about how he did his best to run away from those memories; erased them, removed himself and the people from the place, and kept his distance until it was refurbished. It was different by the time his brother inherited it, the colours were different, the furniture was different and some of the rooms were renovated to be indistinguishable from before.

Ghost's life was different too, he made sure of it.

There were moments, when he visited, where if he stood for a second longer, closed his eyes briefly — even for a breath —, he'd feel the familiarity of his past creeping in, haunting him. He'd remember how he couldn't relax in the living room, or in the hallways, or anywhere he wasn't allowed to close the door of, always anticipating those heavy footsteps and that terrible, sneering scoff before his days got worse in ways he couldn't anticipate. Blood, tears and sweat leaving scars underneath his skin, ones he could only fool himself to hide.

He felt a sense of dread whenever he visited — slept over —, remembering the moments in the kitchen when he went for a glass of water whenever he couldn't sleep, like his mother was right there with him, hunched over with whatever she could get her hands on, tears streaming and ignorant to the world until Ghost softly asked if she was alright. She'd have an awful, dead look in her eyes, any hope and light devoid before she properly focused on him, shaking her head and telling him to go back to bed.

He'd get himself the glass and feel the heavy weight of her gaze on the back of his head, and by the end of it, she would tuck him in; some semblance of normalcy lending itself so that he could go back to sleep. He still felt her gaze, sometimes, never realising that he might've saved his mother more than once by unintentionally waking up late until it was too late. His mum wasn't perfect, no one could be in their situation, but he could never fully blame her for what they all suffered.

It should've been something, seeing Johnny walk so freely through the house, following him like a lost dog would. His steps were Ghost's, a beacon for his wayward soul. Johnny didn't know the table he was leaning against was where he used to hide his brother when it got worse. The dining table was different back then, but the house was a witness to all those fights, its walls always large and silent to their protests. He didn't know how his father got away with it for so long. His memories were a mess, remembering only the worst of it while shrouding the rest — days, weeks, months and years melting into this concoction of experiences, never to see the light of day again.

Johnny didn't have it great either, he'd speak of his cousin, more highly than his mum and dad, leaving vague comments about disapproval and rejection and frustration and Ghost would nod along, because he understood. Parts of it, anyway, and while he might've not faced the same issues, he knew how it felt to be distanced from family to the point you'd have to drag yourself on your hands and knees to make sense of it. There wasn't a shot to down in the vicinity, nor a smoke to share, so Ghost settled for the next best thing; drowning himself in those ocean eyes completely fixated on him. It didn't matter what came out of his Sergeant's mouth, every word poured out of those pretty lips numbed the reopened wounds in his chest.

When Ghost cornered him against that table to kiss him, he didn't pull away. He rarely does, even in the moments he couldn't anticipate it, quick to melt once he knew it was Ghost and eager all the same.

"I'm gonna sell it," he says when they pull away.

The statement confuses Johnny - a sentiment Ghost shares for a second, before he realises why it was necessary.

"Ghost."

"I can't risk it."

I can't risk the same story repeating for us.

I can't risk losing more.

Ghost exhales, loud and ragged.

I can't risk losing you, he doesn't say. Instead, the silence fills the space in-between, the confession buried from the tip of his tongue down to the rotting confines of his heart. Johnny gets it. In his infinite patience for Ghost, he looks like he understands, and the familiar scrunch of his brows ease away as he nods and steps closer.

The touch on Ghost's waist is grounding, a silent, gentle permission for more, and he lets him. Johnny hugs him like he is trying to melt into him, share the warmth that overflows from his heart to fill Ghost's empty husk-like chest. He hugs him like there is nothing he'd rather be doing, seemingly content on standing there, holding him for hours on end if he needed to.

"Johnny."

Everything falls into place like it was always meant to. The torment of a life spent wanting, wishing and begging for more, quenched through the existence of one man alone.

"We'll get it sorted, Simon."

Ghost rarely believes in reassurances, promises that can't hold up in the face of a cruel, uncertain future, but he wants to try. If not for himself - he wants to try for Johnny.

"We always do."

He supposed they did.

As long as Johnny is willing to stay by his side, everything will be alright.

[maxrspeaks]

Hey! I just have to say I love your writing and absolutely gobble it up every time. How did you pick up your writing style? Is it how you've always written, or was it something you surfed around in with books, media etc

Ahhh this made me supeerr happy and honestly made my day. I'll be detailed so walk with me here.

I do art. Oil on canvas, and working with expressions was never my strongest suit, so i hopped around mediums a lot, switching to water, acrylics, digital and gouache. So my biggest concern while writing has always been expression. And through practice i worked out the formula of using body language and texture of words to express. I'm not the best at conversational writing, often you'll see me limiting conversations to a bare minimum in my writing. I dont know to explain this, but i associate writing with colour theory, you'll find a lot of technical and raw words if i write about grief, but simpler, smoother, softer words for writing happier situations. You can express a lot about a character by looking at and analysing their instinctive reaction to the situation at hand.

I also make and analyse music. There's this rhythm build up that we often follow when building up a climactic end, the instruments jump between chords, percussions often speed up towards this part, the overlay between chords and the pace of the lyrics builds up a tension, almost tricking your brain into anticipating something, this is a trick i use when writing longer pieces like the Yuji fic. A bad or a compromising situation is often built up by stacking ominous instances one upon another, you pace it slow but then it escalates, rushed, hurried, and it makes you anxious about what is happening.

I have also always read and wrote poetry, analysed movies, books and media a lot. So the tone of the writing comes from that as well.

Andddd a lot of the technical writing (like the ones in the yuji fic) comes from the fact that..........i am a stem student 😭 so i apply a lot of my coursework into my writing.

Heres a list of books I absolutely adore and take inspiration from

Ariel - sylvia plath

This is how u lose a time war - amar el mohtar

clap when you land - elizabeth acevedo

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe - benjamin alire saenz

devotions - mary oliver

Here's a list of movies/shows/media I take inspiration form

Your name engraved herein

A bride for rip van winkle

as i was moving ahead, ocassionally, i saw brief glimpses of beauty

Omori

Perfect blue

tick tick boom

the lost daughter

[snarky-wallflower]

for the fic writers ask: 2, 14, 33, and 37! or any combination of those if you dont wanna do em all lol.

<3

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

okay, so my top-used five tags are POV Third Person, Angst, One-Shot, Not Beta Read, and Canon Compliant. I think they do explain my writing habits, because I really love getting into the implications of a story, and I am. bad. at waiting for betas sometimes, and not great at continuing a story for longer than a couple of thousand words.

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

honestly, i'll read a lot, so nothing immediately comes to mind?

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?

stares at the WIPs I have not updated for nearly SIX MONTHS pas de masque, The Show Must Go On, I am so sorry. honestly, I really never plan out my chaptered fics, as the evidence shows - but a chaptered fic I'm recently proud of and that I actually finished was about three chapters, and 24k, so I'd say THAT was my ideal chapter length to write. so much fun. at some point, i need to reread my own fic. And I can and will devour 100k-300k worth of epics, even if I haven't been as good as doing that recently as when I was younger. shoutout to you, @acaciapines, whose TOH daemonverse fics are something i am SO excited for. you're gonna kill it.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

ohhhh okay, one of my favourite fics I ever wrote would be always be my favourite ghost, from Night in the Woods. It explored grieving Casey Hartley, and how at the end of it all, so much of his life was left unresolved. how he never even got a funeral. it tugged at my heartstrings, that part killed me. so i decided to write people holding one for him. i really loved getting to explore his relationships with those around him, even if he wasn't there. from bea barely knowing him but still being pissed that he'd been taken, from angus knowing that he deserved better, gregg losing his closest friend, and to mae knowing that she'd missed out on so much of his final years, and still missing him anyways. and to maybe, knowing that if she'd stayed, she could have fallen for him. (shoutout to @doyouhearthunder for inspiring that part, as I read all of his NITW fics and that definitely played a role there.) i think i explored grief well there - in a game that has such a bittersweet ending, there aren't many threads to resolve. but this was one i could resolve, and i don't have any regrets about how i handled it. in the end, casey hartley mattered to people, no matter what that cult thought. that wasn't something that could ever be taken away. and it never got much traction because i posted it in 2023, and the game came out in 2017. but i'm still glad i did. it turned out really well for a fic i wrote mostly on a red-eye flight at 1 am.

thanks so much for the ask!

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Tim - Travle

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/uvAi4k0 by Thefrogcouncilsitsinjudgment bruce has just died. like you know how all other major characters "die". Tim knows he obviously isn't dead. to bad that his family sucks at grief management. the time travel is inspired by interstellar - if you want to watch the movie than watch Neil explain the 3 dimensions firstly. thats a game changer with not so many options left of, ignore Bruces probably not dead status or safe the idiot by teaming up with rather questionable co-workers he takes the secret third option. time travel. as one does. traveling back its only natural to go back before Jason dies. well he miscalculated and Jason is already six feet under; and sadly not already zombified but still getting eaten by fungi. so what now? stranded in way back Tim runs through Gotham, helps bruce with his problematic bachelor life and gets his family some peace and quite that they deserve. choosing the name of "cardinal" acting as the family's personal guardian angle from the shadows of Gothams helping hands. Words: 6849, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Drake (DCU), Tim Drake's Parents, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members & Tim Drake (DCU), Janet Drake & Tim Drake Additional Tags: the women of the batfamily get mentioned but I dont know them to well, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Tim Drake-centric (DCU), Baby Tim Drake, minor character death both canonical and not canonical, im not to familiar with all of the canon so "canon divergencies", Hurt/Comfort, Tim drake is loyal af, is it homicide if you kill your alternative self?, unternet suit-inspired, authors native language isn't English-deal with it, bruce Waynes copying mechanisms suck, nobody in this family is mentally well, but they are trying, Character Study, so no complaints because something isn't right, Gotham is alive in a phantom way, soul companions (animal shape your soul can turn into because I like the concept), Tim Drake is Bad at Feelings, Unreliable Narrator Tim Drake, its probably gonna turn out okay in the end (its 50 / 50), I wrote this while procrastinating dont expect to much, I also wrote this for my self y'all only got invites to enjoy the show alongside read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/uvAi4k0

[the-lonelybarricade]

Loved your latest chapter and Im so excited to see what happens under the mountain!

I was wondering if I could request a one-shot?(up to you how long and you can do it in your own time)something along the lines of:

Feyre( from either ACOWAR, ACOFAS or ACOSF) time travels back to ACOTAR, but instead of finding herself back in her human body i the spring court, she's still in her fae body and ends up trapped in velaris, having to explain to the rest of IC who she is and why she cant go free their highlord(add some mistrust from the IC)

🙈🙈Id its very similar to what youre doing rn with your other fic but, if you find the inspiration sometime could you please do this? Ive wanted to read a fic for ages were feyre rime travels and meets pre-acomaf inner circle who dont know/trust her, but Ive never found a fic like that

Thank youuu

Hi lovely anon! It makes me so happy you enjoyed my latest chapter! I’m supposed to be working on a project for uni, but I couldn’t resist gratifying my lovely friends (because you're anon and won't be notified I was getting sad at the idea of you checking my blog and not seeing me respond) <3 I’ll admit I’m a bit scatterbrained at the moment, so I hope it’s okay!

I was having trouble brainstorming a reason for Feyre getting sent back in time because I didn't want to borrow the reasoning from ACoFD. So I was vague and twisted the pre-existing rules around the Ouroboros, and ended up getting quite carried away with the story since I don’t like not giving things a happy ending (even though it’s a little cheesy, sorry)

Anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for! I know you wanted the angst of not being able to save Rhys but... I couldn't just leave my poor bat-boy behind, you know? ;)

Also if this didn't quite scratch that itch, I'm always happy to take more requests

Word count: 4,446

The Ouroboros.

It was a massive, round disc—as tall as Feyre was. Taller. And the metal around it had been fashioned after a massive serpent, the mirror held within its coils as it devoured its own tail.

Ending and beginning.

From across the room, Feyre could not see it. What lay within.

She forced herself to take a step forward. Another.

The mirror itself was black as night—yet… wholly clear.

She watched herself approach. Watched the arm she had upraised against the wind and snow, the pinched expression on her face. The exhaustion.

She stopped three feet away. She did not dare touch it.

It only showed Feyre herself. Nothing.

Feyre scanned the mirror for any signs of… something to push or touch with her magic. But there was only the devouring head of the serpent, its maw open wide, frost sparkling on its fangs.

Feyre stared and stared, but all she saw was herself. There was nothing else. Then—

Feyre woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed to shake away the cobwebs of sleep and the strange, foreboding feeling that felt draped around her shoulders like a weighted cape, pulling her down. It hadn’t been a particularly horrifying nightmare. In fact, it was perhaps of the tamer dreams she’d had in the last year.

Yet something about it clung to her, perhaps a lingering agitation that she’d yet to retrieve the mirror the Bone Carver had requested. That must be it.

The bed space beside her was cold. The sun peaking through the window was not high, it couldn’t be long past dawn. However worrisome her own dream, her mate’s must have been worse to draw him from sleep so early. Worse still for him to sneak away.

Feyre rose from the bed, reaching absently for Rhysand’s dressing robe to wrap around herself. She always loved to steal her mate’s clothes, to be wrapped in his scent.

With gentle steps, she made her way to the study, where she could only assume Rhys had sequestered himself in the lone hours of the night. She’d noticed the weary draw to his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. This war was weighing on him heavily, and he was nervous. Feyre wished he didn’t insist on shouldering the burden alone.

“Rhys?” Feyre called softly as she got to the study, knocking on the door before she cracked it open.

Peeking her head around the door, she was met with the sight of Rhysand’s abandoned study. The scattered papers and war maps that had become characteristic of his desk space were surprisingly missing. In fact, the whole space had been cleared away and there was a thick layer of dust on every surface as if no one had been in here in years.

Feyre frowned at the sight, and how different it had been just the day before. Where had all the dust come from? And more importantly, where was Rhys? Perhaps he’d taken a morning flight to clear his head.

Where are you, love? She called to him through the mating bond, but was met with silence.

“Who are you?”

The voice was cold and venomous. Feyre turned, coming face to face with Mor, whose face was twisted into a threatening scowl.

“Mor?” Feyre asked, confused by her friend’s cold demeanor. “What do you mean? Have you seen Rhys?”

Mor’s face turned deadly, a look Feyre had only ever seen from Mor in the Court of Nightmares. “Is that some kind of joke?” she snarled.

Then, before Feyre could process what was happening, Mor had gripped onto Feyre’s wrist and they were enveloped in darkness. They stepped into the House of Wind, into the dining room where Cassian and Azriel abruptly stood up.

“Mor?” Feyre questioned when the blonde didn’t release her steel grip. She looked to Cassian and Azriel quizzically. “Guys? What’s going on?”

Cassian crossed his arms, assessing Feyre with a hostility that put her on edge. “Who’s this, Mor?” he asked gruffly.

Feyre frowned as she watched Azriel reach for Truth-Teller.

“Is this a joke?” she asked, flitting her eyes to each of her friends. Where she sought that friendly warmth in each of their gazes she was met with hard stares, filled with distrust, ready for a brawl. She couldn’t make sense of it. Was this an act Rhys had put them up to?

“I found her in the townhouse,” Mor said. “I don’t know how she got in there. She was in Rhysand’s study.”

“And she’s wearing his dressing gown,” Azriel noted dryly. Cassian did a double glance, his eyes going wide, then narrowing with a rage Feyre had never seen from the male. Certainly never directed at her.

There was a whisper of shadow, then suddenly Azriel was behind her, Truth-Teller poised at her throat.

Feyre startled. “Azriel!” she said sharply. Even if it was a joke, Feyre couldn’t imagine Rhysand would sanction this kind of threat. And the energy in the room was off, the tension too thick. “Stand down.”

“And who are you,” he breathed in her ear, his voice coated in shadow and nightmare, “to command the Shadowsinger of the Night Court?”

“I’m your High Lady,” Feyre answered steadily, not letting Azriel’s shadows, nor cunning voice, shake her resolve. “Now, I don’t know what is going on with the three of you, or what strange joke you’re trying to pull, but you will listen to what I say. Put. Your. Knife. Down.”

“High Lady?” Cassian repeated with a snort of disbelief. “You’ve got balls, little girl.”

Truth-Teller danced across the skin of her neck, pressing lightly enough to intimidate without breaking skin. “Do you even know to whom you speak? You should be bowing before the acting Queen of the Night Court.”

Too stunned to properly resist, Azriel kicked his feet out to knock Feyre to her knees in front of Mor. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it tightly to pull her head back as Truth-Teller resumed its threatening position at her throat.

“Breaking into the High Lord’s personal residence, impersonating a high position within the Night Court, lying to the Morrigan’s face,” Azriel listed, increasing the pressure of the blade with each transgression. “You throw our High Lord’s generosity and protection in his face, something we as his acting Court do not take lightly.”

“Acting court? Acting Queen?” Feyre repeated, feeling as if she’d woken to a different reality. “What are you talking about? Where’s Rhysand!?”

“We’re the ones asking the questions here,” Cassian growled.

Feyre looked to each of her friends, studying their faces. Beyond their militant expression, she could see their grief. Could smell it. She repeated, “where is Rhysand?”

She felt the snarl that rumbled through Azriel’s chest behind her, vibrating against her back. When the question was once again unanswered, Feyre abandoned all sense of patience.

Darkness exploded through the room. She heard Mor gasp as the walls of the House shook from the might of her power. Feyre folded into the shadows, winnowing out of Azriel’s grasp so she stood in the center of the three of them.

“Az, Cass, Mor, you are my friends and I do not want to hurt you. But I am also your High Lady and you will answer me this instant, where is Rhys? Where is my mate!?”

Siphons gleamed red and blue through the thick tendrils of night, illuminating the Illyrian males’ faces. Cassian’s jaw had fallen open, while Azriel was studying her through narrowed eyes, wisps of shadow surrounding him. Feyre wondered what they were whispering to him.

“Mate?” Cassian echoed, the first to break the heavy silence.

Mor took a cautious step forward, her countenance completely changed. Her pupils were blown wide, twin brown depths churning with sorrow and gentle astonishment. Azriel went rigid at Mor’s approach, but no one moved to stop her as she came face to face with Feyre.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered, taking Feyre’s left hand, eye fixed on her mating band. On the sapphire-star ring that once belonged to Rhysand’s mother.

All eyes befell the subject of Mor’s attention. Cassian swore softly in recognition.

“It’s my mating band,” Feyre answered measuredly, still puzzled that the inner circle, her family, didn’t seem to have any memory of it. Nor of her. “I won it from the Weaver, as was the task set by Rhysand’s mother. But you were all there for that. I don’t understand what’s going on. Where. Is. Rhys?”

“Under the Mountain,” Mor whispered, her voice soft and pained.

The darkness ebbed away like a receding tide. Feyre felt her heart sink as she tried to process this information. “He—What?”

“He’s been Under the Mountain for the last 50 years,” Mor said, firmer this time. “And if you were his so-called mate, you would know that.”

“No,” Feyre said, shaking her head vehemently. “No, that’s impossible. We got out. We—”

This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, and she just hadn’t woken up from it.

“Amarantha’s dead,” Feyre insisted, mostly in an attempt to console the unparalleled grief and panic that were raging inside her. “She’s dead, and Rhys and I got out.”

The grim faces of her friends said otherwise. They stared at her, in unbearable mixtures of pity and horror.

“I think she’s having a mental break,” Cassian said, not unkindly. “Should we get a healer?”

“Let me show you,” Feyre said meekly, casting her magic out to tap on their mental shields.

They all tensed, clearly not aware they’d been in the presence of a daemati. Trained well by Rhys, they all cracked their shields just enough for Feyre to send her conjured memories through. She showed them going Under the Mountain as a human, winning the trials and being resurrected, falling in love with Rhys, and eventually becoming High Lady of the Night Court. In turn, the three of them pushed back their own memories, of the current state of the world. Of Rhysand sacrificing himself so that his Court and Velaris would be safe.

A sob broke out of Feyre. “How is this possible? How am I here?”

It was Azriel who immediately went for the jugular. “More importantly, if you’re here as a High Fae, how is Rhys going to get out? How do we stop Amarantha?”

Feyre fell to her knees, grief-stricken by this realization. She was no longer human. She couldn’t stride in as Tamlin’s human lover and undergo the trials. Feyre had her powers, but they were untested. Would she be able to take on the whole of Amarantha’s court?

“What do I do? How do I save him?” she whimpered, staring in mute horror at her mating band.

Mor tentatively reached forward, laying a comforting hand on Feyre’s shoulder. “Rhys sacrificed himself to keep the people he loves safe. He wouldn’t want you getting yourself killed trying to save him.”

“I have to try,” Feyre answered desperately. “Amarantha she’s…” Feyre couldn’t bring herself to say the word, rape. Not to his family, who wear his sacrifice for them like an open wound. “She’s doing unspeakable things to him. He’s suffering so much. I can’t leave him to that fate. I have to try.”

With renewed conviction, Feyre accepted Mor’s outstretched hand and picked herself to her feet. “Rhys said it himself once. Amarantha’s biggest weapon is that she keeps the High Lord’s power contained. She can’t access them herself. But I… I have access to all the High Lords’ powers. And that bitch has my mate. My wrath will be plenty to take her down.” She faced her friends, who watched her warily. “You have my word as your High Lady,” she swore to them. “The High Queen of Prythian is going to fall by the night’s end.”

⟡⟡⟡

Winter had not yet fallen in the Mortal Lands. Feyre wondered if across the world, there was a version of herself curled in a bed with her sisters, clinging to any shred of warmth and survival.

That version of Feyre was very different from the version who strode up the sloping hills of the Spring Court with Azriel by her side. Rhys would be furious that Feyre had allowed him to accompany her. Should anything go wrong, it would destroy her mate to know his family had been put in harm's way after everything he’d done to protect them. Which was why it was only Azriel who came with, the only compromise she could reach with his Inner Circle, who insisted on coming with.

Who better to sneak into the Mountain with than the very soldier who taught Feyre the art of stealth. He was the obvious choice, since Mor needed to stay to rule the Night Court and Cassian was too heavy-handed to handle such a delicate task.

Their footfall was silent. Feyre wrapped them in the shadow of Night as they winnowed through the cave network. Her heart hammered in her chest, panicked to be back in the source of so many nightmares.

But Rhysand was more important than her fear. For him, she would not falter.

With the Shadowsinger by her side, Feyre snuck through the winding tunnels until she came to a familiar passageway. They slid into a massive, dark bedroom, lit only by a few candles.

To attack Amarantha in the throne room would be too messy. Too many variables to contend with, should Amarantha have enough wit about her to use any faeries as a shield. Especially Rhysand.

After several hours of waiting, the lock on the door clicked and swung open. Darkness swirled around the room as Rhysand took in the sight of Feyre and Azriel on the bed.

Immediately, the door slammed shut.

“No,” he whispered, voice dripping with horror. “No.”

“Rhys—” Feyre started, but her mate wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was looking at Azriel as if his whole world had shattered.

“Leave,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. This was no happy reunion between brothers. This was Rhysand’s worst nightmare. “Leave this instant, you stupid fool. That is, if you’re lucky enough to have avoided detection when you passed under her wards.”

“I took down the wards,” Feyre said. They weren’t particularly strong, either. Amarantha had gotten lazy, perhaps thinking herself secure with the only spell-cleaver under her control. Or so she believed.

Rhys turned that quiet fury towards her. “And who are you?”

“Your mate,” Feyre answered steadily, tipping her chin up.

Rhysand laughed. A desperate, humorless sound. “Then you are just as foolish as my idiot brother. And you have both sealed your deaths by being here. Do you understand that?”

Feyre scratched along those familiar adamantite shields. Rhys’s eyes flickered in surprise, but otherwise he looked unruffled as he cracked a sliver open for her.

It would be unwise to underestimate me, mate.

I wouldn’t be going around boasting about such a thing, if what you claim is even true, came his icy response. And I wouldn’t count on a few party tricks to save you, either.

And what if I told you, she purred, that I possess the power of all seven High Lords?

That, at least, garnered a reaction from the stoic male. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief, studying Feyre carefully. His gaze caught on her hands, at the lace tattoos that flowed to her fingers. And the mating band she still wore.

Feyre watched those violet eyes go wide, the silver constellations dancing in astonishment at the sight of his mother’s ring.

Where did you get that?

It’s a long story, love, but you’re going to have to trust me. She lowered her mental shields completely. Have a look for yourself. I’m telling you no lies. I am your High Lady, and I am here to free my husband.

She felt those familiar talons wrap around her mind. A foolish thing to do, to give a daemati unrestricted access to her mind. And if it were anyone but Rhys, it would have been. But his touch was gentle, and he took only the information he needed.

“I don’t understand how this is possible,” he whispered, breaking the silence of the room. Azriel had been waiting patiently, but looked relieved to be included in the conversation once more. “And I hate that you’ve put yourselves in danger for this, but it could work.”

Rhys considered for a long moment, then he looked between Feyre and Azriel and said, “do it when she’s sleeping. That bitch has been playing dirty for 50 years, you might as well level the playing field to give yourselves the best chance. Let’s do it tonight. I’ll leave the door unlocked, wear her out, and signal you once she’s asleep. Her spell prevents me from harming her, but I’ll make sure she’s restrained. All you have to do is drive the ash dagger through her heart, but have your magic ready for damage control.”

⟡⟡⟡

Feyre and Azriel waited in Rhysand’s bedchambers for his signal. There was a revelry tonight, as there was every night Under the Mountain, and Rhys was expected to be in attendance. Afterwards, he’d join Amarantha in her bed and make sure she was, in his words, “thoroughly exhausted”.

It was torturous for Feyre. To know exactly what the implication in those words were, to have to use her mate’s body in such a way. She wanted to roar at the Mountain, at the Cauldron, at anything that would listen, but instead she was next to the quiet, brooding Shadowsinger, and lamented in silence.

She’d begged Rhys to reconsider, to perhaps help them stage a more physical encounter that didn’t rely on his own suffering. But he’d denied any plan but the one he’d proposed, insisting it would cause him more anguish to but Feyre and Azriel in harm's way.

So they waited the long, agonizing hours until she felt a delicate pull at her chest. She’s asleep, Rhys called. Be on your guard.

He sent her directions to Amarantha’s bedchambers. There were guards outside, but Feyre and Azriel winnowed past them, cloaked in night and shadow.

Amarantha’s bedchambers were huge. Feyre had never been inside them before, but she was unsurprised to see they provided any luxury a High Queen could wish for.

Atop a large bed of red, silken sheets, lay her mate and Amarantha, both stark naked. The smell of sex clung to the air, Rhysand and Amarantha’s scents intertwined. Feyre thought she might be sick.

Even more sickening was the sight before her, of Amarantha’s arms restrained to the headboard in cloth. A clever way for Rhys to restrain her under the guise of sex, but horrifying nonetheless, to see the proof of what they’d been up to. The female was fast asleep, so convinced of her authority that she could fall asleep tied-up and not feel vulnerable doing so. How satisfying, Feyre thought, that such arrogance would be her downfall.

Feyre warded the room, putting up a shield of darkness so that no sound would break through to alert the guards. Rhys watched their approach warily from where he perched beside Amarantha, so still Feyre was convinced he held his breath.

He wouldn’t risk moving to wake her up, which terrified Feyre. Should something go wrong, her mate would be susceptible to Amarantha’s wrath. Naked, vulnerable, and completely under her control. It was such a dangerous game they were playing.

The room was as quiet and still as the bewitching hours of the night, their footsteps silent as they picked across the room. Azriel held the ash dagger. If Rhys could not kill Amarantha, his brother wanted to do it on his behalf. Meanwhile, Feyre summoned tendrils of night that carefully wrapped around Amarantha’s legs, slithering up her body like a snake, ready to constrict and restrain.

The female stirred in her sleep, perhaps feeling the ghostlike touch of Feyre’s magic. But she did not wake. Not as Azriel raised the dagger over her chest, and not as he plunged it down.

Amarantha’s eyes shot open as the dagger pierced her chest. She let out a shriek of agony and ire, moving to claw at her attacker. She raged against the restraints, spewing obscenities until they died at her lips as the blade sunk into her heart.

Rhysand’s chest was heaving as he watched the female still, then slump. He looked from her dead body, to Azriel and Feyre.

Feyre’s heart sank as she watched her mate process that it was truly over. There wasn’t a trace of elation in his eyes at being liberated, but she understood why. Rhys would finally be returning home, but as a much different man than the one he had been. He’d survived, but not unscathed, and he’d need time to process this.

Feyre came to him, reached towards her mate with the hand that bore his mother’s ring. Rhys looked to it, then up to her. His eyes were clouded with sorrow, with a melancholy she could only hope to chip away at in time. But she could see stirring beneath it was a breath of hope, perhaps the first he’d allowed himself in a long time.

“Let’s go home, Rhys,” she said gently.

Slowly, Rhysand nodded, moving to grasp her hand. She felt him jolt at the touch and, as she glanced at him questioningly, she saw his lips part in wonder.

I suppose you weren’t lying about being my mate, he whispered, the words a sensual brush in her mind. Thank you for coming to rescue me, High Lady.

Feyre grasped onto Azriel, and together the three of them stepped into darkness.

Then, they were above the House of Wind, tumbling through the night sky. Feyre unfurled her wings before Rhys could move to catch them, worried that her mate would struggle after 50 years without flight.

Both males stared in astonishment at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes danced in awe as Feyre, albeit clumsily, carried them to the training ring on the roof.

Rhys snapped his own wings open as they landed. Feyre watched him tilt his head back in rapture as he felt the wind against his wings for the first time in decades. Then he opened his eyes, his expression shifting to reverence as he beheld the night sky.

“I was beginning to think I’d never see it again,” he whispered, his voice a heartbreaking blend of exaltation and disbelief. “And for this gift… for my salvation to be courtesy of my mate and of my brother… I’m a bit overwhelmed,” he admitted sheepishly.

Feyre hesitated. If this was the Rhysand from before, the one to which she was mated and married, she would come to comfort him. But this version of Rhys had only just been freed from enslavement, and she didn’t know what he needed.

As though sensing her hesitation, Rhys cast his eyes back to the sky. “I know they’re all waiting for me downstairs, but I’d like a little bit of time with the stars. Will you let them know, Az?”

Azriel nodded, though he seemed conflicted. His reunion with his brother was perhaps not as merry as the male had expected. But right now, she knew the Inner Circle would hardly deny Rhys anything. Perhaps for a long while yet. So Azriel headed downstairs to inform their friends, who were sure to be anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Rhysand regarded Feyre carefully once the two of them were alone. “Mate and High Lady,” he mused. “You seem to wear many hats.”

“You forgot ‘wife’,” Feyre said lightly.

“Yes, and ‘Salvation’, ‘Queen Killer’, ‘Most Beautiful Female in Prythian’, it seems there’s many things I could call you. Could we start with your name, perchance?”

Feyre was shocked. She’d assumed he’d taken such information out of her mind earlier, but it seems he’d been even more respectful than she’d expected.

“Feyre,” she answered. “My name is Feyre.”

He looked wonderstruck. “Feyre,” he repeated, testing the name on his lips. A gentle smile curled at the corners of his mouth, the first she’d seen from him yet. He extended his hand towards her. “Would you like to watch the stars with me, Feyre?”

It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Her hand found his with all the casual grace of a dancer, as if it were a routine they’d been perfecting their whole lives. Their fingers interlocked and as one, they stared up at the dazzling night sky.

This reality wasn’t perfect, Feyre thought. This Rhys was different from her own, and he still had a lot of healing to do. But if she could be there for him, to help him in a ways she hadn’t before, then she would be grateful to the strange eddies of the Cauldron for bringing her here. For allowing her to end his torment early. For giving them this extra time.

She watched a shooting star dart across the sky and smiled as it passed. There was nothing she could wish for except that her mate find peace in all that he’d endured the last half century.

His deep, velvety voice cut through the silence. “Do you often wish on stars, Feyre?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her with a heart-wrenching wistfulness.

“Only when I have a wish worthy of the stars.”

“And do you?”

Feyre looked to the northernmost star, which shined brightest in the sky. “I wished for a light in the darkness,” she told him. “I don’t think the stars would ever begrudge such a wish.”

Rhysand nodded solemnly. “It’s true that they would be begrudging themselves in doing so. But I see no need for you to wish for such a thing.”

Feyre looked to him. He was still watching her, but something in him had shifted. He was smiling at her gently, that lingering sadness already receding. “Why’s that?” she asked cautiously.

That gentle smile widened, showing off his brilliant teeth. “Why, Feyre, to find such a thing, all you’d need to do is look in a mirror.”

[breadboylovin]

NEW POST FOR MY 95060 PLAYLIST!!! complete with explanations of every song choice under the cut because i love explaining my own creative decisions for some reason (PLEASE DO NOT FEEL COMPELLED TO READ ALL OF IT IF YOU DONT WANT TO ITS VERY LONG LOL). i may add a few songs here and there later on, or more likely rearrange what i've already put in slightly, but for now i consider it done.

alright now heres a look into my twisted mind

PART 1: TEMPTATION

Franz Ferdinand - Michael: It's a song about seducing someone named Michael. What more can I ask for (serious explanation is that it’s also very homosexually charged like you just have to listen to it… also feels taunting in a way where it’s like ‘oooooh you want me so bad’ and he’s RIGHT Michael DOES want him so bad). Also credit to this post for letting me know this song existed and inspiring me to make this playlist in the first place :-3

Mystery Skulls - Paralyzed: Just another song about how Michael is awestruck by David and feels compelled to follow him for whatever reason (the reason is that he wants him so bad)

TAEMIN - WANT: This is one of three Taemin songs on here because I think if David survived until present day he would fucking LOVE Taemin. Anyways this is a song about knowing you’re hot shit and everyone wants you and I think after seducing Michael through fucking?? Fatal motorcycle races and evil noodle mind tricks??? David deserves to feel that

Glass Animals - Gooey: OHGHGHGHFH THIS SONG… the vibes are impeccable on this one, Dave Bayley’s alluring voice feels like a slight remix of what David is going for and the way it feels like the singer is trying to convince the listener of something (even though it’s purposely vague) just FEELS like David with Michael. The line “I can’t take this place, I can’t take this place/I just need to go where I can get some space” especially fits when imagining how Michael is new to Santa Carla and may want a place to belong that David and the boys are happy to provide

TAEMIN - Impressionable: I see this as the moment that Michael downs the bottle of “wine”, where this song is David’s internal monologue reveling in how easy it was to charm Michael and get him to join. I always thought this sounded like a taunting villain song so it just fits. Also it’s like ridiculously horny which is a plus

PART 2: THE RELATIONSHIP ITSELF

MGMT - Me and Michael: In my head this is directly after Michael drinks the “wine”, and if it were an actual song in the movie, it’d play instead of Cry Little Sister in that scene. I already made art related to this but I really just love the juxtaposition between something that Michael will later see as horrible (becoming a half-vampire) and David seeing it as a perfect slow-dance moment. Also “Me and Michael, it’s not a question now” because the blood drinking has now linked them together… mmmmm. Credit to this post again for making me find this song!!

ALI - DESPERADO: This one is less about David and Michael specifically and more about how the night in the cave went down for everyone there, starting with a soft slowness as they ate and then descending into chaos as Michael downs the wine and they celebrate a new addition to the pack. The bacchanal energy is off the charts

Dorian Electra - Man to Man: This song is just one that I attribute to all of the boys because I think they do a lot of homoerotic sparring. Also the part of the movie where Michael punches David in the face and David just goes >:-3 back at him

Chase Atlantic - Friends: I don't know what it is about this one but it just Hits… The chorus kinda sounds like David and the boys trying to convince Michael to stay with them instead of coming back to human society after drinking the blood, in the same sort of taunting manner that they had when David (presumably?) made Michael hallucinate the bike lights and sounds outside of his house

Taking Back Sunday - You're So Last Summer: THIS SONG IS JUST REALLY GOOD. I don't know what it is about this one either… I guess the “Maybe I should hate you for this/Never really did ever quite get that far” part could represent the first glimpse of Michael’s more conflicted feelings about David. Also the second half of verse 2 not only fucks so hard but could also be indicative of Michael’s repressed gay feelings, lying to himself about how he wanted to be around David because he’s cool or whatever but he actually just has the hots for him and would let him do anything if he asked to

MGMT - Little Dark Age: Mostly here just for vibes. Have y’all seen that one edit set to this song? Yeah

The Neighborhood - Prey: I feel like this song captures the general unease that Michael feels right before he sees the boys kill for the first time, knowing that he’s probably turning into a vampire and something horrible is happening… especially with “Something is wrong, I feel like prey” just generally describing what it must feel like to be a human among vampires (though he’s not fully human anymore at this point)

PART 3: REALIZATION + FIGHTING BACK

TAEMIN - Criminal: YET ANOTHER TAEMIN SONG!!!! It’s all about realizing you're with someone who’s like, an evil manipulative villain and genuinely bad for you but you can’t escape just yet because you’re kinda into it. I don't think David is THAT bad of a guy, but Michael could be like “I need to get out of this situation because this man is a vampire but I feel attracted to him and it’s hard to really get away”. Also the line “My hands holding yours that stabbed me are not clean either” just HITS cus Michael hates David’s vampirism but HE’S a half-vampire now so it’s not like he’s innocent either. This is just a really good 95060 song AND a good song in general, listen to it even if you don't normally like K-pop cus it slaps

Glass Animals - Wyrd: This would be the moment where Michael snaps out of it and just starts running away, but to no avail, because he’s still a half-vampire (“You can’t run so you must hide” meaning that he can’t outrun his new monstrous nature, the best he can do is hide it until it eats him alive). Meanwhile David laments over how this is a stupid decision from his perspective (“So, my friend, our time is done/You and I could’ve had so much”)

Moonface - Minotaur Forgiving Theseus: This is a very veeeeery bitter song from Michael’s perspective about David being a vampire… with the “You’re just a hitman” repetition referencing how David. Y’know. Eats people. And the “I heard you're coming for me now” references both how David first approached him and the impending confrontation

The Neighborhood - The Beach: This song goes from the bitterness of the previous one to a pseudo-acceptance of the end of their brief friendship and what’s inevitably going to happen next. However, I think the bridge of the song illustrates the little bit of Michael that doesn’t want this to happen, that wants this relationship to somehow work out because he cares about David even if he is a vampire (unfortunately he ends up repressing this because he feels a duty to kill David now)

Gorillaz - Rhinestone Eyes: This is mostly in here because of the music video, the buildup to a battle just echoes in my head whenever I hear this song now. In the context of this playlist it makes me imagine David looking up at the Emerson’s house from the hotel (and Michael doing the opposite) knowing that something’s about to happen and it’s going to be horrible

Glass Animals - JDNT: This entire song feels like the climax of the movie. Verse 1 feels like the Emersons and Frogs getting ready to attack the cave (“I’m all armored up”) with “I feel that final poke” being when Marko gets staked, and the chorus right after is a tinge of regret that Michael feels once the plan starts to take shape. Verse 2 is the other boys waking up to see that Marko is dead + them dying themselves (“Where my funny friends gone?”) and the bridge is Michael and David’s fight before Michael finally gores David on the antlers. The outro of “You can’t breathe without me” VERY much feels like David taunting Michael from beyond the grave, knowing how much Michael loved him and how horrible what he’s just done is

PART 4: GRIEF

The Brazen Youth - Burn Slowly/I Love You: Ooooooghghgh the conflicted feelings about their relationship is STRONG in this one… The “Burn Slowly” part being him trying to convince himself that he did the right thing by killing David while the “I Love You” part is him realizing that he really did love David and it fucking hurts

Sufjan Stevens - The Predatory Wasp Of The Palisades Is Out To Get Us: MAN. MAN… Everything past “I can’t explain the state that I'm in” is just so… it’s Michael realizing what he had even more and just how much it hurts that he’s lost it. He knows he was in love now and it fucking hurts SO MUCH!!!!!

Sufjan Stevens - The Only Thing: [head in my fucking hands] Michael moping around Santa Carla because it feels empty without David. All the “should I tear my eyes out now?/Should I tear my heart out now?” parts oh my GOOOOOOOOD sufjan stevens i'm going to slap you on the head.

Paramore - Tell Me How: THIS SONG HURTS SO MUCH ITS SO. It’s another one about conflicting feelings so theoretically it should be earlier in the story but I always envision something very morbid when listening to this (and have now written a fic about it so check that out)… Michael going back to the hotel where he put David’s body and musing to no one, asking how he’s supposed to feel now, the “And always coming to your defenses” where Michael keeps defending David and their relationship to his family who all think David was a horrible monster… this song fucking hurts. Also I unintentionally drew a parallel between JDNT’s “You can’t breathe without me” and this song’s “Do I suffocate or let go?” and now that I’ve realized that it hurts even more. Fuck this song

[genocidersyodr]

TBHK CH 71 SPOILERS

My theories!! This is gonna be a long one folks😉

Ch 71 spoilers!!

*TW contains spoilers, abuse, suicide, murder and psychotic breaks

Although all the supernaturals disappeared 

They arent nonexistent ,, they're still there

The tie that let humans see the supernaturals was severed, they just have no known way (as far as we know) to contact each other and interact with each other ,, the supernaturals, are kinda like ghosts now (ik that they´re all dead  but they were more ´solid´ than ghosts, that might be hard to understand but i hope someone does) and how sometimes we can see them and sometimes we cant or how people say that dogs can see things that humans cant ,, the supernaturals are still there but they cant interact with each other and arent visible at the moment

Although now that I think about it, i dont think they ever mentioned if Tsuchigomori is dead or not, but he was most likely in his early twenties in the 1960´s, (we landed on the moon in 1969) when he was Amane´s homeroom teacher ,, and he seems to have not aged at all ,, but his appearance has changed, but other than that, nothing else has. But the time frame that TBHK is set in is probably 2020 or 2019 (cause it came out in 2020 & cause they have smartphones) meaning that Tsuchigomori would have to be in his late 40´s or early 50´s but he looks just as young as he did in the 60´s

And he´s visible to everyone at the school including the teachers, but he also might not be dead, because of Akane Aoi´s circumstance, hes alive and well and is still a supernatural, which means he and Tsuchigomori might be the only two living supernaturals. But when all the supernaturals disappear we dont see Tsuchigomori (he might've still been around but i dont remember so correct me if im wrong) but we see Akane Aoi

Also the Red House has something to do with Amane (Hanako) and Tsukasa  (in my opinion) ,, if i remember correctly, they said that a whole family committed suicide in that house, my theory is that both Amane and Tsukasa were abused by both their mother and father ,, the marks on Amane´s arms when we see the memories inside Tsuchigomori´s yorshiro look like rope marks/burns and on the covers of the manga's (especially on the third one) we see red rope around Hanako´s neck, waist and arms

My theory is that both Amane and Tsukasa were influenced by their parents that violence was normal ,, I think that Tsukasa took inspiration from the violence and abuse and mirrored it onto Amane and ¨experimented¨ on him, which would also explain the rope marks (heres a link to what im talking about https://64.media.tumblr.com/735e6b9112f492447c0824c1ca43721e/afb23ff0d6206d4b-fe/s500x750/47ab096974f8727fb8551a7dea99f782888b90ec.jpg )At some point I think that Amane snapped and out of frustration, brutally murdered Tsukasa ,, then when he realized what he had done, he killed himself ,, then like the butterfly effect his parents discovered their bodies and then also committed suicide out of shame and grief and i think the reason he haunts the school bathroom instead of the house is because as Tsuchigomori mentioned, he was bullied, which leads me to believe that the bathroom was where he would hide and spend most of his time alone (why the girls bathroom, idk lol)

And that he haunts/protects the school because Tsuchigomori was the first person to say that he cared about  Amane and he wanted to be close to him even in death

oml that was a lot to read im so sorry!! but what do ya´ll think!?

here´s some funny tbhk moments as a thank you!   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zhO7rUGMj1Y&t=34s

[matoitech]

this is for when you wake up tomorrow, but can you please talk about galos superb emotional awareness?? he's got some serious emotional skills!

yeah of course!! i think its important to mention first and foremost that promare is built around compassion and willingness to listen and understand people you think are different from you just bc you dont have the exact same experiences. but in the words of nexus, we’re not so different. galo represents that! him and lio are literally the bridge of understanding and empathy. and because of this, both their characters hinge on love! love for other people and love for the earth. that’s why people misinterpreting characters like lio to be mean is so upsetting, because its missing the point of the movie. but anyway we’re talking about galo and his epic emotional intelligence so lets DO THAT.

so we gotta start with the obligatory “people think galos an idiot BUT ACTUALLY-” because its true! he may be oblivious about some things but he has an ability to look at a situation and know what to say and do to fix it; he’s passionate and has a solid belief in himself so whether or not he’s wording something perfectly people FEEL that hes being genuine. when you’re unapologetically yourself, people respond to that!

more than any other character it was galo that was the one who knew that lio needed help and was the only one who knew how to help him. and galo proves this isnt lio-exclusive (tho it definitely shows a lot with lio, and that’s for a reason lol). he knows what to say to reassure aina at the lake, he knows what to say to get heris to question her decision with helping kray, he knows what to do to get his teammates on his side to help, he saves lio and inspires him to save the earth. you could write an entire essay on any scene he surprises people and gets them thinking, he does this so much! i dont think this is something he’s totally aware of and uses to his advantage as much as its just people responding to how earnest he is about wanting to help others. 

the scene with lio as a dragon is brought up a lot when talking abt galo because its through his pov that the movie tells us that galo noticed lio was crying. we, the viewer, know what happened at the burnish camp. we saw lio lose his people and his best friends to freeze force, we know why he feels he’s lost everything. WE know why it isnt just rage, but its grief and pain as well thats fueling him, but galo doesnt know that. he sees the dragon, he knows its lio, and he notices right away that hes crying. he met lio a couple times and he’s kept in mind what lio’s said about burnish not killing- so he knows something is very wrong. something must have spurred lio to react like this. something must be hurting him. so now he knows that lio’s hurting and he has to do something to help, both for lio and to stop the fire in the city. no one else noticed or cared that lio was in pain. but galo’s whole thing is figuring out what people need and saving them! so of course he noticed. 

galo and lio save each other, MULTIPLE times. its through their differences they find strength! galo and lio are both passionate, emotional people, though they show that in different ways. its really lucky that galo and lio found each other; they work so well together, well enough to save the world! they’re both written with each other in mind, to draw out the best in each other and do together what they can’t do alone. they find strength through each other. that’s really important. 

to get back on track cuz i kinda went off on a side note there, i think it’s important to mention that galo being emotionally perceptive goes both ways. he notices whats going on with other people and notices how they feel and what he can do to help, but that also means he notices how people feel about him. people tend to assume galo just doesn’t notice when people get frustrated with him or when they’re rude to him, but i dont think thats true. its not that he doesnt notice, its that he’s used to it. he chooses to let a lot go. but when he snaps at lio for calling the matoi stupid, its from a buildup from ppl, whether jokingly or not, calling him or his interests stupid. u cant talk abt how galo perceives how ppl feel and acts accordingly without acknowledging that that also means he is aware of how ppl feel about HIM. another reason why him and lio work well together, with lio listening to him and taking what he says seriously, just like galo does for him.

anyway, the movie itself is all such a good example of galo showing rly good emotional awareness, and part of that also comes from him being open to trying to do better when he messes up. he apologizes when he does something wrong, he LISTENS, and he CARES about making things right. he cares about how lio feels and he cares about how the burnish feel. he cares a lot about making sure people are safe and happy, that they know he’s listening and is trying to help.

there’s a small line that i’ve always appreciated when galo is explaining the spaceship to lio. he says that the ship is human powered first, only adding that its the burnish specifically powering it afterward. this is an important line because its galo showing lio that he listened to lio earlier when he said the burnish were human beings just as much as galo. that small word choice means a lot, bringing the interaction in the cave back- galo said something insensitive, lio told him why that was wrong, and galo apologized and learned from it. the movie does a good job of showing you that galo has no problem with owning up to his mistakes and learning from them. that’s pretty good emotional awareness lol

also, at the end i will mention that galo’s pretty good at understanding his own emotions and knowing what to do about them, like when he goes to the lake to clear his head and work out his emotions bc he knows him being in the public eye and ppl associated him w the governor means he needs to be in control for his sake. he has trouble with this sometimes, not always making smart moves bc he is so emotionally driven, but he does acknowledge his emotions and try to deal with them in the best way he can. he could do this better if he went to THERAPY which he NEEDS -_- but that. is another topic. promare 2: everyone gets therapy

this got very all over the place, there’s so much you can talk about with it, but!! galo is a really good character thats a lot smarter- and more importantly, kinder- than people give him credit for, and i like talking about him :]

[msjr0119]

A Second Chance

Prologue

Book: The Royal Romance

Series Pairings: Liam x Riley (Flashbacks), Drake x Hana (Flashbacks), Drake x Riley (Present Time- Friendship?).

*All characters belong to Pixelberry apart from Bethany Hughes-Rhys*

Please do not read this series if you are under 18 or if you are affected by any of the below trigger warnings. By doing so, you are consenting that you are over 18.

Warnings: Mention of suicide (past tense), Grief, Depression, Mention of two characters death. Slight adult language.

A/N: So this is a follow up to my ‘Hold On’ series. I was really confused when @kacie-0156 requested for me to do this as she is a Liam Stan. I still don’t understand 🤷‍♀️ but I’ll try my best! Thank you Kacie for the moodboard that you have provided. 💕❤️ The series takes part over two decades after ‘Hold On’ finished.

Song Inspiration: One Sweet Day, Mariah Carey Ft Boyz II Men

Word Count: 3,200

Tags, off the top of my head- as always if you want to be removed/added don’t hestitate in asking me: @pedudley @kacie-0156 @annekebbphotography @yukinagato2012 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @lodberg @cmestrella @axwalker @hopefulmoonobject @notoriouscs @rafasgirl23415 @walker7519 @drakewalker04

*****

It had been six months since that day. The day that the Queen of Cordonia realised that her fairytale life had been snatched away from her in an instant. Today was the first day in which she had made an effort with her appearance. Upon her arrival she could sense that all her friends were eager to pounce on her, demanding to know that she was okay. Interrogate her. Keeping that stoic expression, she avoided conversations with her close friends- instead just remained civil with her children and people such as Francesco. Keeping a speech minimal, she thanked everyone for coming before returning to her quarters. Alone. This had been a common occurrence- keeping herself guarded. Not allowing anyone to break down the walls that she had built up.

Jackson noticed that his Auntie had been specifically quiet since that day six months ago. Walking over towards Princess Ayah and Prince Louis, they both smiled softly - however provided sorrow in their eyes.

“Is your Mom okay?” Ayah shook her head. Not really knowing how to explain the mask that Riley was wearing to hide her true feelings.

“She’s not coping, Jackson. I’m scared that she’s going to do something stupid. Before we existed, she tried to end her life in New York. My Father didn’t want to tell us about it, but he did one night to explain how much of a fighter our Mom is. She isn’t talking to anyone apart from us and her Godchildren. Whenever any of her friends try to talk to her, she shuns them away. Maybe Uncle Drake could try and talk to her again? Because you know....” Jackson didn’t need Ayah to continue that sentence, he knew full well what she was about to say.

“I’ll go and mention it to him. Don’t worry about Aunt Ri. She has everyone here, supporting her.” Kissing the Princess on the cheek, he scrutinised the room for his father. Jackson Walker adored his ‘cousins’ and ‘Auntie’- even though they wasn’t blood, he felt as if they were.

******

“Brooks....” Feeling like this was a waste of time, Drake decided that the best option was to walk away, as she wasn’t responding. Jackson placed a comforting hand onto his father’s shoulder, suggesting that Drake should leave. Feeling like a failure, to Ayah who believed that they would get her Mom to open up to them- Jackson decided to try himself. Listening to his son’s advise, Drake left in a swift motion- frustrated that he couldn’t persuade her to come out of her hovel and just talk.

“Aunt Ri?” Jackson said softly as he knocked on the door. Riley knew she was being stubborn whenever a visitor would knock on the door- but for some reason she could never ignore her children, or her friends children.

“Jackson.” Smiling at his Auntie, he pulled her in for a tight hug. “What can I do for you?”

“Have a walk? Or just a little talk with me? We all miss you, and we want to help you through it. Dad just wants to help too. You could help each other?”

“You’re only twenty one Jackson, you should be out with your friends- enjoying life. Don’t take a minute for granted. You should be living each day as if it’s your last.” Listening to her words, he knew what she was referring to. His heart sunk, the usual poised Queen stood in front of him was absolutely broken even if she tried to conceal it. “I miss him so much Jackson, and I miss your Mom too. Each day that goes by, doesn’t get any easier. I need to be strong for Ayah, Louis and Ellie but truth be told- they are so much stronger than I am.”

“Aunt Ri, everything will get better in time. Uncle Liam loved you- as did my Mom. They would both want you to be happy, being the strong woman that you are. Please don’t stay up here on your own. If you need anything, dont hesistate to let anyone know. Whether that’s to watch a film, or to go for a cronut, a walk in the maze? It’s Dad’s birthday party tomorrow night- fifty. The old fart. It would be good to see you there. Ayah is going with Louis, El, Uncle Leo and Aunt Beth.”

“I’ll see how I feel. Thank you for the talk Jackson. You remind me so much of your Mom, caring- thinking about everyone.”

“Shame I look like my Dad then.” Riley laughed as the young man winked at her. “I love you, Aunt Ri.”

*****

Drake woke up the following morning, not really in the mood to celebrate his fiftieth birthday. However he knew that he needed to make the effort. Mainly due to the blood, sweat and guts that Maxwell had put in to organising it. It had been six months since he had said goodbye to his wife and best friend- the King. The traumatic events from that night still haunted him- the grief was still lingering every second of each day that went by. But what was also breaking his heart was how Riley was coping with the loss of her husband and her friend. Ever since the funeral, the Queen had ignored her friends, barely acknowledged their existence- keeping herself to herself.

Making himself look presentable, he headed over to Ramsford with Jackson.

*****

“Speech, speech, speech....” Maxwell shouted, peer pressuring Drake to make a speech. The last speech was the eulogy he spoke at Hana’s funeral. He wasn’t confident when it came to speaking in front of crowds, but he believed the sooner he did it the sooner it would be over and done with.

“Well what can I say? I’m an old man now. I’d like to thank you all for coming today, drinking whiskey in honour of me... you all know me too well. I know it’s been six months, they say that time gets easier but it really doesn’t. I wish that three other people could be here by my side celebrating this milestone with me; my wife Hana, my best friend Liam and our Queen.” Lifting his tumbler of whiskey up into the air, the others followed suit. Drake closed his eyes for a brief second, imagining the happier times with Liam, Riley and Hana- imagining that this was just some awful nightmare that he couldn’t escape or wake up from. But no this was reality. He had lost his best friend and wife to a successful assassination. Opening his eyes, the room was mute- all eyes focusing towards the doorway.

“Brooks?” Riley raised her drink in to the air as she smiled softly towards him. Placing the empty glass on the table next to her, she turned around and headed towards the balcony needing a bit of fresh air. Following her, he just wanted to make sure that she was okay- that she was coping. Even though he knew that she wasn’t. He never imagined that she would turn up, due to her personality recently.

“Hey.” Drake nervously said, as he watched her staring up to the starry sky- her eyes fixated on the brightest one.

“Hey, old man. Happy birthday!”

“Less with the old man cheeky... you’ll be catching up soon...”

“Maybe, but you’ll still be older than me. I got you a present, I wasn’t sure if I was coming or not- it’s too predictable but I’m sure you’ll make use of it.” Handing him the bag, he shook his head whilst laughing. “I’m far too predictable, I’m going to be turning into whiskey with the amount that people have bought me. Thank you, Riley.”

“No need to thank me. Enjoy the rest of your party.”

“Are you leaving?”

“I’m going to mingle with everyone, I’ve not been myself- hiding away from everyone. Seen as though I’ve made the effort, I may as well make the most of it.” Drake smiled at her. Their past was complicated to say the least- but they had put that behind them. But now he felt the need to protect her, something that he didn’t do when they was together- he owed it to himself as well as to Liam.

“It’s good to see you out and about. If you need anything- just let me know.”

“I just need my friends and children. Which I already have. I needed my husband. I still do. I miss him so much.”

“So do I. You’re not alone. I miss Hana, I know you do too. You have myself and Jackson, your children- who aren’t children anymore. You know what I mean. Leo, Beth, the Beaumont’s, Liv.”

*****

Jackson, Ayah, Louis and Ellie all walked towards the balcony- Jackson put his arm in front of them all to prevent them going any further, noticing that his Dad and Aunt was too close.

“And what are you all doing?”

“Aunt Liv! You made us jump.” Ayah said, as she tried to catch her breath.

“Oh hell no.” Leo commented as he joined in spying on Drake and Riley. “Do you think they are going to grieve together and do more?”

“Uncle Leo! That’s our Mom and our Uncle that you’re talking about.”

“Oh kids, they were together well before they married their spouses. They were even due to have a baby until this jerk called Nate beat myself and Riley to a pulp.” Shrugging his shoulders, the young adults looked at other confused as to why this was such a big secret kept from them.

*****

“I know I have you all. I am grateful for that.” Pulling her closer to him, he held her in his embrace. Hearing her whimpers, and feeling the tears drip onto him- his grip became tight. Not in a hurtful way, more of a protective type of way.

“You are an amazing Queen, you are doing a fabulous job.”

“I’m stepping down, Drake. Louis is taking over from me.”

“Louis? Ayah is the Crown Princess. She’s the eldest.”

“History is repeating itself. She abdicated from her duties last week. Louis’s social season begins at the end of the week.”

“You’re putting him through a social season. Jesus Brooks why?”

“He decided it, not me. I didn’t want my children to go through what Liam- What we all went through. I can’t rule without Liam, and I’m not remarrying. Don’t tell anyone that I told you, I’m going to do a statement. I can trust you, right? You’re one of my closest friends.” What we went through. The social season of hell.

“Of course you can trust me.” Cupping her cheeks, he said this with sincerity surrounding his eyes.

“I.. I should go.” Kissing her softly on the cheek, she inhaled sharply. Her heart began to flutter, Drake wasn’t Liam- but having someone this close to her for the first time in months felt unusual. Someone who she loved once upon a time.

“Look after yourself, Brooks. We are all here for you. Always.”

****

Riley did Drake’s usual trick throughout the party- ‘people watching’. She had some conversations with her friends but kept it minimal. The common questions and phrases spoken in these conversations included Liam. Deep down she knew that it was good to talk about him, but for her it was still so raw.

Maxwell bounded up towards her, very intoxicated. “Your majesty. You look absolutely beautiful. I’ve missed you.”

“Thank you. I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry.”

“Blossom, don’t apologise.”

“I have to. I haven’t been myself since I - we lost Liam. And Hana.”

“Come on, lets get out of here for a bit...” Holding his hand out towards her, she remained standing dormant.

“I’m actually going to head to Valtoria.”

“Stay here. You still have a room here. It’s yours...” Pausing for a second, she couldn’t help but smile at the man stood in front of her with the goofy smile. “How is Drake coping?” Maxwell was unsure as to why she asked this.

“Erm, he has a few quiet days. The therapy is helping him though. He blames himself for what happened that night... but you know Drake, he always wears that scowl to cover his true emotions. I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but Liam and Hana wouldn’t want either of you to be unhappy. A little birdy told me that Louis is beginning a social season. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have supported you!”

“DRAKE TOLD YOU?” Not realising how loud she was, Drake made his way over to them. Wondering why his name was mentioned. Wondering why Riley’s quiet tone of voice had raised all of a sudden.

“No, Louis did. Drake knew?”

“I knew what? Brooks, are you okay?”

“About Louis becoming King... I assumed you told Max. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” The two men pulled her in for a hug, as she eventually broke down uncontrollably crying. “Don’t apologise blossom. For anything.” Maxwell whispered.

“I’m going to go to my room. Thank you for inviting me, both of you.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” After Maxwell asked this, Drake decided to leave the two of them. Before he could escape, Riley grabbed his hand- forcing him to turn to face her.

“Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk upstairs? Alone. I have realised that I should talk to someone. Someone who is going through the same emotions... I won’t keep you for too long, it’s your party. I just feel if I don’t do this now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do it.”

“Of course we can talk. For as long as you need to.” The friends all overheard Riley’s request including her children. All smiling softly, knowing that this was the first step she was taking to get out of the depression. To grieve with some support. To move on from her husbands death but to keep his memory alive. Baby steps.

****

Drake sat down on the edge of the bed as Riley poured him a whiskey.

“Who’d have imagined we’d have been here, in this situation. Didn’t Kiara and Nate put us through enough shit?” Laughing nervously, she wasn’t sure how to begin this difficult conversation.

“But that shit, led us both to begin families with our loved ones. You have to think of it that way..”

“True.” There was an awkward silence due to Riley’s lack of response.

“Why have you been avoiding us all?” Not wanting to sound harsh, but he needed to know. Deep down he had an inkling as to why. He just needed this confirmation, so everybody could help in the best possible way.

“I couldn’t cope. I lost the love of my life unexpectedly. Seeing you all reminded me of him. I’d go to bed, holding my wedding photo- snuggling into Liam’s clothes. It still hasn’t sunk in. I’m so sorry that I’ve ignored you all...”

“We understand, we had just hoped that you would have let us help you. I’ve been the same. If it wasn’t for those morons downstairs, I think I’d have drunk whiskey all day every day to blank the pain.. we both loved Liam and Hana, and they both loved us dearly.” In sync, the two of them briefly closed their eyes- images of their spouses flashing through their mind.

“Louis suggested starting the social season to keep my mind off of things. But it’s just going to bring memories back. Of us. Of everybody.”

“It may be a good thing? We are all going to support you both.” Snuggling close to him, she felt his arm go around her waist. “Why did Ayah abdicate?”

“She’s... she’s... oh god, Drake... this is so embarrassing...”

“What?”

“She’s her father’s double. Insisting that she doesn’t want a political marriage, that she wants to marry for love. Ayah started a relationship with.....” Drake’s brain began functioning. His first thought was his son, Jackson. If it was Jackson, he knew that people would criticise her choice- due to his commoner blood that ran through his veins.

“Who?” He eventually questioned, not quite knowing if he wanted to hear the answer or not.

“Theo...” Riley shrugged her shoulders as his jaw practically hit the floor.

“You’re having me on... aren’t you?”

“No. I wish I was... honestly... I’m hoping it’s just a fling. But you can’t help who you fall in love with.” Looking down towards the floor, she bit her lip as she was referring to him. Referring to their past. Hoping that he wouldn’t realise.

“No you can’t help who you fall in love with..” Pausing, he decided to make a joke out of it. “You know if he hurts her- her Uncle’s won’t hold back. I’m pretty sure Liam’s spirit won’t either.”

“None of you will touch him. I’ll beat you all to it!” Providing that infamous cocky smirk, Drake shook his head- he hadn’t seen it painted on her face in what seemed like an eternity. Caressing her cheek, they both locked eyes.

“Of course you will... it’s good to see you smile.”

“I agree. Thank you. I should let you get back to your party.”

“I’m ready for bed, I can’t hack it anymore. I’m not a spring chicken anymore.” Standing up, he mimicked walking with an invisible walking stick- causing her to throw her head back laughing.

“No, you’re an old grumpy marshmallow now.”

“Queen bossy pants. Night, Brooks.” Turning to leave, it was a brief conversation- a conversation that everyone had wanted to start with all those months ago. Finally she had opened up, even if it wasn’t much. Hoping that this was the first move to gaining closure on Liam’s death.

“Drake, wait!”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you for the talk.”

“No worries. You know where to find me or any of us for that matter. I love you, Ri.”

“I love you, too.”

****

Once Drake had left, she got under the duvet- making a quick phone call. As soon as the voicemail message began, tears ran down her cheek like a waterfall. Unable to stop.

Hello. You have reached Liam, but I am unavailable at the moment. Sorry for my beautiful wife, my Queen- giggling in the background. If you need me, leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.

Even though she was crying, she still managed to let out a little laugh- this was his personal phone for his friends, but now it was a regular call she made on a daily basis.

“Hey, handsome. It’s me again. The giggling wife. I’ve actually laughed for the first time today, Drake the old man turned fifty. Of course he was drinking whiskey. I know I say this everytime I ring you, but I miss you so fucking much Li. I love you so much. My biggest regret was not telling you that the day you left us. So I’m making up for it now. Now it's too late to hold you 'Cause you've flown away. But that doesn’t stop my imagination from believing that you are here. Never had I imagined living without your smile, and I know you're shining down on me from heaven. I hope you and Hana are celebrating up there. I know eventually we'll be together. One sweet day. Until we meet again. I love you, my King.”

[bellamyblake]

Hi Iva! First of all I would like to say - thank you for loving Bellamy so much, it means so much to me to read your posts and feel the same love I have for him. The way I wholheartedly with your every word... about his tragic life, his immense love, everything. On the other hand, you must hurt a lot judging by myself - I honestly cannot stop crying multiple times a day. I do not know how to make the pain stop. I dont know how much more I can handle, its not getting better but actually worse p1

P2 when I think about in details about his life like you did – his life had no happy beginning, or middle, and certainly not the end. Maybe only as a baby boy before O was born. I don’t know how to deal with the fact the character that I genuinely believe had it the worst ended up with the worst possible ending as a reward for honestly trying to do better. Like if he at least experienced love and understanding from O or SOMETHING… but she never got to tell him sorry for beating him up,

P3 that now she understands what he did for her… I am gonna go crazy over this, honestly. I wanna stop crying and enjoy fanfiction with much better ending for him. Where should I find solace? Was his death at least quick, maybe he did not have time to think about what happened? Is there an afterlife where Aurora waited for him? Was that what I can hope for when Aurora was NEVER explained, she was not an alien so what was she? But he also sow Cadogan in the same scene and he was alive then?

P4 Should I watch 5x13 on loop to get in my head this was the ending? Should I teach myself to edit and do some manip for the ending? My only way of coping is seeing other people, blogs like yours that love him just as much. But I keep crying and feeling utterly miserable ☹I am 27 I never spend so much time loving any character (fun fact, It must be around 3 500 hours for me reading ff, watching the show and fan edits and tumblr posts). I know Bellamy will always and forever be the one beloved

P5 one beloved character of mine and no one will ever come close. Bellarke, the same – they were my OTP. The only one. I need to do something about this cause I am loosing my damn mind… I could handle almost anything, I would cry, yes, but I was absolutely sure of one thing - no matter their ending, sad or happy, in some sense they would do it together… and we got THAT. Does anything help you? I am so sorry for dumping this on you but reading your posts - its like hearing my soul.

Hello!

First of all thank you for the kind words and for enjoying my blog so much. 

I really do love Bellamy Blake a whole damn LOT. Like a damn LOT hah. I think that’s pretty obvious by the posts I make even if they’re not as many lately because I’m mentally not doing well right now. But that same love you feel, I feel it too and I’m glad I’m not alone in this.

I also get angry too and I cry a lot still about the way things ended. I also have not spent that much time in my life invested in a fictional character before so this is a lot for me as well and I get how you feel.

You asked me if something helps and for me it helps a lot to write you know? Be it meta or fanfiction, I indulge myself a lot in writing. 

It’s funny that even when I write fics I don’t write happy fics, you’d think that I’d make him absolutely happy in what I write but I don’t. But indulging yourself in a world of your creation with this character helps a lot. And it’s fun too, to do this, to build a world for him, a different one-be it with Clarke or with a family of his own or Idk just with anyone. Giving him love that he never had and joy he never felt. I think that helps me a lot and it helps me forget how he died and how much it hurts (I wanna say that even typing this makes me cry hah, so...).

I also like to rewatch some episodes that were more about him as a character and then meta in my head. That usually gets me sad too but it’s also exciting to think about some of the stuff that happened and dive in the psychologity of his character (which I do a lot) LOL. But that’s mostly painful. I don’t get many asks about him and meta stuff so I mostly do it in my head on my own and dive into the world of direction and how things were done and love making sense of them. 

Headcanons are something I love doing too though I haven’t written (or posted) much lately. In fact I haven’t posted anything lately because Idk...I’m not sure that sharing everything you create is good these days. people got so judgemental over time, the way actors and cast are threated is horrible but it extends to the entire fandom and its participants so it’s ugly and dark and horrible and I think stops a lot of people from posting gifs or fics or anything at all. But that’s another subject.

So yes writing helps me a lot. Reading fics helps me a lot. I’m not sure what the recipe is here because honestly I am in the same boat as you. I love this character more than anything and any other that I’ve loved and been in a fandom before so...this is hard for me too. And it’s fucked up. 

I also love making gifs for him though I don’t make anything good or special. Gifs I think can be lots of fun but also pain too-fun cause when you go to gif a moment you can rewatch half the episode (at least I do) and sad cause it can bring you some pain but at the end giffing is really Idk..rewarding. Except when people don’t reblog shit so that’s discouraging too hah.

I’m sorry I don’t mean to be a debbie downer.

To tell you the truth after years of being on here and in fandoms I realized this-I can create to soothe my soul from the pain, like from losing Bellamy but I don’t have to seek validation from people and post it. I can do it just to heal myself and not share it. When you share it what? You just get disappointed. That’s why I have 230 drafts. Half of them are unpublished headcanons. some of them are published fics with few readers or readers who yelled at me for writing sad stuff. the other half is stories i’ll never post. So I guess my advice is-

find something to get your hands on, to create, be it editing, giffing, writing, something to let the grief out, to soothe the wound inside you. and then you can decide if you want to share it or not. and even if you don’t it was inspired by the best character ever. 

He was loved, he deserved more, he did. But you can create worlds where he has more.

He can be held by his mom as a baby, he can be tucked in, he can be climbing up her leg and reaching for her arms, he can be cranky when he had his first tooth, or sad when he had to go to day care, he can be scared before his first exam and anxious as he grew up. He can be having nightmares and not sleeping when O was born, he can be terrified and feeling alone. He can have friends and be hugged and loved and have a first kiss, he can live in a house by the ocean with clarke with two beautiful kids and a dog and a cat for her cause she loves cats. Or he can be alone curled up in his bed just crying his grief away.

He can be anything that you wished for him, anywhere you wished for. 

Hope I helped some! 

[thisstableground]

hey! what was your first experience with in the heights/how did you discover it & how did you become so thoroughly overtaken by it? i hope you feel better soon

ooh, i like this question!

so i got into hamilton around november 2016 and thats what lead me to it. first listened to in the heights must’ve been early january 2017, because i remember it was the day before i went back to my home in brighton from my mum’s where i had spent christmas  break, and i was laying on the couch in mum’s living room and eating grapes the first time i listened. i don’t remember much of my emotions towards it that first time, other than enjoying it but finding the story harder to keep track of (it was only the second musical soundtrack i’d ever listened to, after hamilton, which is a lot easier to follow because it’s sung through). i can remember unexpectedly laughing out loud at usnavi in the club and going “wait what” when abuela died and that’s about it. but i vividly remember my second listen to it the day after. i’d gone and read all the story summary on the Genius lyrics page so i understood it more, and i can remember getting on the train back home just as i was listening to It Won’t Be Long Now on headphones and getting such shivers that I nearly cried (and then i did cry on the train later, at Alabanza), and it entered frequent rotation between my near-constant relistens of hamilton.

so i really liked it from the start but i think it didn’t completely take over my heart until i started writing fic for it. fic for me is about learning who the characters are and it really took no time at all of writing some character study and dialogue for usnavi and vanessa before they just grabbed something in my heart and made a permanent home there, now that i understood them a little more.

i love the music and the originality and the skill that is in it, but i think that something that made it really stick emotionally and become my favourite is that it was about such ordinary people. it was about people who struggle and who aren’t necessarily doing anything that will make them go down in history but aren’t any less valuable or lovable for that, and it was a revelation for me at that point in my life, where i still only defined myself by my grades and intelligence and was really struggling with the fact that i could just barely get through a day functionally, never mind do anything world-changing to establish a legacy, which at the time felt very important to me and is part of what drew me to hamilton. it’s hard to explain, but in the heights just made me feel like it’s okay for your legacy to be that you work hard in the ways you are able to and support the people around you and look for help from them when you need it. it felt like permission to live an ordinary life and reassurance that you can find happiness doing that.

it’s funny because with all of that, i would’ve thought that nina would’ve been my favourite – i’m a former gifted kid university dropout who put way too much pressure on myself with grades. and i do love her but somehow it’s usnavi who i relate to most. the getting stuck, the way that his past and his grief have given him sort of tunnel vision for what he wants from his future and how he needs to think more about what he wants now, and what he wants outside of what other people think he wants. the big ADHD vibes, the nervous chatter. and relating to him in some ways made me want to be more like him in others – the positivity and kindness, which i’m 100% sure is something that i developed more in myself the more i listened to his parts in the musical and wrote stories about him. i talk a lot more now than i used to, because i’m not so self-conscious about the fact that i talk very quickly and excitably, and that sometimes i make an idiot of myself by babbling.  i like who i am much more now that i lean way more towards an usnavi than an alexander. 

it also came along like, when i wasn’t exactly mental health recovered but i had been living in brighton a while and gotten past the worst parts and even with all the problems i was still having i felt like i was in the place i was supposed to be, for the first time in my life. i remember when i was younger i used to be in my own bedroom just sobbing and thinking “i wanna go home” and not knowing what i meant because i was in the only place that i could technically consider home but still didn’t feel like it, and always feeling torn between different parts of my identities and not knowing where i belonged within those identities and communities that i’m a part of. i’d never want to claim that this means i understand what it means to be latino or an immigrant because i dont and i know i never will, but even though ITH is not my identity narrative, it comforts me to hear it anyway. it felt and still does feel so, so good to listen to finale where usnavi says i’m home and think yeah, me too, and to know that he’d been looking for so long for that certainty and finally found it just like i had.

its been the fuel for so much of my creativity, alongside other LMM fandoms. i think part of it is  because of an interview i read with lin once, where he said he wrote ITH because nobody was writing the roles he wanted to play so he had to do it himself. that attitude but turned towards my own areas of neurodiversity and mental health has since been the centre of most of my academic work and the foundation of what i did for most of my creative writing degree: the idea that if the story you want doesn’t exist it’s not because it’s not worth telling, it’s because maybe you need to write it yourself. i’d never had enough of a sense of purpose before to sustain any creativity.

 before i started writing fic and doing art prompts back in december 2016 i hadn’t made or written anything much for years and years, and even before that i’d never really done more than write a few poems and some essays and doodled some abstract art at very sporadic intervals like once or twice a year. and i started that creative journey off with hamilton but it’s ITH that stuck with me and that i’ve stuck with (and DNH, but like, i’m into that for the opposite reasons i am into ITH, where ITH is a beautiful thing that inspires me want to make more beautiful things, and DNH is a trash fire that i’m frantically trying to put out and then weave a nice rug to cover all the damage).

GOD this gave me all my big ITH feelings again. i can remember writing fic after nightmares when my PTSD was still bad. i can remember being in the phase where i was still surprised whenever i woke up and felt good about life and i’d put ITH on with headphones and turn the corner out of the street i lived on at the top of a hill and could see all the brightly coloured houses leading down to the sea and felt safe. i have such a strong memory of a day when i had been in the middle of undergraduate dissertation panic where i just went outside and went to the park which was empty because it was pouring with rain and i went on the swings and played ITH loudly and sang along because nobody was there to hear. the people i’ve met through fandom are some of my favourite people ever.   i just love this show so, so much and it has a really important place in my life and my memories.

[thegoldenavenger]

While i work out the logistics of the naruto au, i offer this. Sorry if you dont know kimetsu no yaiba, I did my best. 3000 ish words. Mobile beware of cut. Unbetad we die like mne.

Content Warning for violence, gore, blood, at the beginning. If youve seen/read demon slayer then canon typical, if youre a marvel only fan then it’s more like iron man 1 or winter soldier levels of violence vs the bloodless avengers films.

Tony Stark wants to be a Demon Slayer. But, born into the Sword Smith Village's head family, he was supposed to craft the finest nichirin demon slaying swords there were, and while Tony likes sword smithing he chafes under his father's strict parenting.

He admires the demon slayers he makes swords for and, quietly, teaches himself the Way of Iron, hoping if he excels his father will let him join the Demon Slayer corp. Unfortunately, his father is not amenable to this, and the two fight until Tony runs off in a huff.

When he makes his way back to the hidden village, he smells blood. In the time he was away a demon had found the sword smith's village. He pulls his sword and joins the fight, trying to evacuate those he can while making his way deeper into the village.

It gets quiet the closer to his home he gets, and the door stands wrenched out of its frame. He can hear his heart beat as he crosses the threshold.

The first thing he notices are the carefully sculpted masks usually displayed on the walls are littering the floor carelessly.

The second thing he notices is the thick trail of blood. His eyes unwillingly trace the blood to the crumpled figures of his mother and father, demon slaying swords shattered on the ground. Standing over them is a demon, the moonlight glinting on the number 5 in his right iris.

Tony's grip on his sword tightens and his inhales, too sharp to be disciplined. It sends a pain through his chest but he sets back into the first form of the Breath of Iron naturally. The demon smiles and Tony throws himself forward, his left foot leading as he pushes as much force as he can into the piercing jab.

The demon's eyes betray a hint of surprise, it could never have encountered a style like this before. Iron Breathing First Form: Piercing Ray is a thrusting move and demons are more used to the graceful arcs of slashing forms designed to take a demon's head off.

Tony's sword hits the demon's collarbone and he can feel it slide home. Blood slicks down the blade and Tony imagines he can feel a heart beat through it. He flexes his wrists but the sword doesn't twitch. The demon scoffs, low and ugly, "You missed."

"Not quite," Tony says, flicking the little hammer in the hilt of his sword. It causes a spark, and Tony is quick to abandon his sword for a few feet of distance as the spark ignites the black powder in the sword's hilt.

The demon grabs the smoking sword, then, through a sharp boom, screeches as the gunpowder propelled blade rips it's way the demon's toughened flesh.

Tony squints after the flash of bright light, the demon's body torn in half and crumpling. Tony has a moment to think: he wasn't much for a twelve moon demon. And then he's kneeling next to his parents, hands flickering over their bodies. He hadn't noticed, but his mother is still breathing, gasping under wounds. He presses his hands to her, trying to stop further blood loss but her skin is already ice cold.

He feels tears well up in his eyes, he's so stricken. He'd talked to her this morning. She chokes on something, but Tony keeps shaking his head. No, don't speak, stay quiet until the clean up crew arrives. There's no way the Demon Slayers aren't here already, there's no way they wouldn't send a doctor to the sword smith's head family.

His mother will be okay.

"Tony, oh, please--" she gurgles as he tries to shush her. Her speech is indecipherable. Through his pleas and the blood in her lungs he can barely make out syllables, but he thinks he hears shield, fury, heart. He shakes his head.

His mother makes a mournful, bleating noise and her eyes widen in fear and it's the last thing he hears from her as a high pitched, shrill siren pierces his ears. He'd wince but he's frozen, and then his chest feels open and cold and hollow.

He can't look down, but he knows there's claws in him. Through him. Whatever.

Behind him the demon laughs, affably, like someone seeing the punchline of a well set up joke. "You should've made sure I was finished. What a shame the Starks end here, I really was hoping one of you would show some promise. But really what can one expect of such worthless beings. Too much trouble in the end."

Tony's vision starts to blank. It's not that black creeps into his peripherals, it's simply that he stops being able to comprehend pieces of vision. Like a blind spot slowly encroaching on his whole field of perception, there is just nothing there.

The shrilling noise quiets and Tony's body reflexively fights for breath. It burns and freezes all at once. He can hear a whistling noise.

Then, footsteps thundering on the floor, he can hear because he's lying down now, somehow. He can hear the singing sound of nichirin steel drawn against sheath, and shouting. The demon slayers are here.

A shape hunches over him, as his vision narrows. Maybe it's the demon, or a doctor. No, he thinks, if it was a doctor it would be reaching for his mother.

He ceases to be able to see, but he hears the shape anyway.

"Breathe. You are not finished, today."

Tony wakes up at the Wysteria Estate, in what looks like a hospital. Dr. Yinsen is by his side.

He explains: you parents are dead, your home destroyed, the demon that attacked you escaped.

He says: The demon used a Blood Art on you, you're lucky to be alive.

He says: the damage was extensive and your insides are scarred irreparably.

Tony yells at him.

"She was alive! Why didn't you help her, you could've helped her!"

Dr. Yinsen's eyes are sad, but his voice is not gentle when he says, "You and the demon were the only living things in that room."

After Tony is done shouting and screaming and then coughing because something in his chest feels like breaking, the doctor sets him back against some pillows. He pulls at the bandages on Tony's chest, and Tony lies there, unresistant.

"Do you understand what I mean when I say the damage was extensive?" He asks as he unwinds the bandages. They stick to Tony's skin, but Tony doesn't flinch.

"I mean, your lung's capacity is down by 12%. The scarring in your chest means you cannot breathe well, if at all."

At this Tony blinks. He's breathing right now, isn't he?

"No, no, young man. Any sword techniques you know that are supported by Breaths. It would cause too much strain on your body. You'd be cough up blood before you could breathe your first kata."

"That's--" Tony starts, then starts coughing. The doctor tips Tony's head back and rubs a cool ointment over the scars on his chest.

"Your heart is in a similar condition. Any activity too strenuous will cause it to fail. At best you'll get light headed and wheezy, at worst you'll tear something inside, you're heart will stop and you'll die."

Tony narrows his eyes at the doctor. "Then what can I do?"

"Heal, for now."

"Will I be able to slay demons, again?"

"It's not likely."

"Then why did you save me!" Tony lashes out again, hissing in grief. "If there's nothing I can do but sit here, and try not to breathe too deeply!"

Dr. Yinsen lets Tony have his moment, before firmly grabbing his shoulder. Tony automatically turns his head to look him in the eye. The hand on Tony's chest feels warm now, almost hot.

"You shouldn't have lived through that attack." Dr. Yinsen says. "I shouldn't have been able to stabilize you. You shouldn't have woken. Yet, here you are anyway.

"Stark, who am I to tell you what can happen in the face of that defiance. You are the one who made it here to today. You are the one who will determine where you will be tomorrow."

His village, though beaten, lives on. Evacuated to a safer area, Tony has heard his kin have started to rebuild. He has not returned.

The Wysteria Estate has acknowledged him, and after he healed enough, allowed him to join the ranks of novice Demon Slayers. Nicolas Fury, a retired Pillar of the Demon Slayers, vouches for him even when Tony struggled to maintain a grip on his sword.

Speaking of his sword, it's a poor excuse for a weapon. Nichirin steel it may be, it's nothing like the blades Tony made. Use to make. He uses it reluctantly, as Fury bullies him into training.

Tony's lungs ache whenever he wakes, like they forget how to breathe during his sleep and they're stretching anew. Sometimes he is so cursedly aware of his own heart, each pulsing beat it like a vice squeezing him tighter and tighter.

He forges on.

Fury is the retired Mist Pillar of the Demon Slayers, and thus, Tony starts to learn the forms of the Breath of Mist. He doesn't take to it well. Even after strengthening his lungs to the point where he can Breathe again, even just a little, most of the Mist Breathing forms eludes his mastery.

He's never been one to fade into the background.

But the training isn't for nothing. Even if he is limited, he can use Breathing techniques again, and his heart doesn't feel like exploding quite so early in exercises. He starts training with his own Iron Style again, wondering if he could add a third form inspired by the Breath of Mist Sixth Form: Moonlit Mist.

Deemed healthy enough, he meets other Demon Slayers. Because Fury is nominally his mentor, he is introduced to the current Pillars as well.

He gets on particularly well with the Rock and Flame Pillars: James Rhodes and Pepper Potts respectively, both of which whole heartedly teach him their techniques.

Tony loves the solid forms of the Breath of Rock, especially the third form: Stone Skin, though he is much better suited towards the nine forms of the Breath of Flames style. Pepper is an efficient teacher.

Natasha Romanoff, the current Mist Pillar is more stand offish, but when she does speak it is with a tongue sharp with wit.

Thor is the Pillar of Thunder, but he also Mastered the Breath of Wind style. Watching him fight, even just to spar, is thrilling.

Clint Barton is the Flower Pillar. He seems like the quiet type, but only because he speaks through his hands. Once Tony picks up the language he is consistently delighted by Clint's keen observation and even keener sense of humor. He's unique among the Pillars for his preferred choice of weapon: a bow.

Bruce Banner insists he is not a pillar. He says he's barely a demon slayer. He studies pharmaceuticals, he's working on something to help curb demon blood lust, he's a gentle soul. He doesn't have the strength to lop off a demon's head anyways, he says, he practices Insect Breathing only as a last resort, he says.

An ill-mannered low rank rookie makes the mistake of using a squirrel for target practice and the twisting, barreling movement Tony sees Bruce slip into before Thor sweeps him off his feet do not look like the gentle piercing forms of the Breath of Insects.

Janet van Dyne, the Insect Pillar, pulls Tony into a hug and thanks him for her custom sword request. He grins because her designs for The Stingers were brilliant when he had first seen them and brilliant now, watching her dart around with them, slickly coated in Wysteria Poison.

T'challa, the Panther Pillar, carries himself with a regality Tony half falls in love with. His Breathing style is self made and his successor, Shuri, is the only other who knows it.

Sam Wilson is the Wind Pillar, he's gentle but firm, yet Tony knows he and Clint and Natasha goof off when no one is looking. He doesn't have proof, but he'd bet on it.

Finally there's Peter Parker; younger then them all he's the newest, most eager Water Pillar Tony is sure there ever was. He's bright eyed and takes a liking to Tony pretty quickly.

There's an empty Pillar, Tony realizes. There should be twelve, to reflect the twelve moons of the demons, yet even including Bruce in the count there are only ten.

Tony is idly curious about this, but he lets it sit in the back of his mind as he pesters the pillars to help train him. He worms his way under their skin, whether it's Rhodey and Pepper always grabbing him for lunch, or Natasha flyting with him in their spare time.

It takes him wholly by surprise when they tell him he's being nominated to the eleventh pillar position.

He can't in good conscious say yes. He can barely Breathe properly. A good knock to the chest might take him out. He isn't a master of any style. There are too many reasons to shake his head, and it takes Rhodey and Pepper both before he even listens to the offer.

"You're worried you're not good enough," Pepper says.

"Of course I am,"

"Take a breath," Rhodey instructs.

"I am breathing! If I breathe anymore I'll tear a lung!"

"Have you tried?" Pepper asks.

"Have you even noticed?" Rhodey asks.

Tony blinks, caught off guard. He's not sure what they mean, but he focuses anyways. On the breath in his lungs, the taught feeling of them expanded. The way the air flows through him.

"You've been Breathing this whole time." Pepper sounds smug.

"And you're fine training on top of that." Rhodey says.

Tony takes a second to blink up at them, for the first time in a long time confused.

"I keep forgetting you weren't trained properly," Pepper says, "You pick up on things so fast. Full Focus Breathing is the very fundamental basis of Breathing Styles, but it's difficult to master. It's a full concentration breath, and Pillars are as strong as we are because we use this technique for every breath we take."

"It's what helps us be on par with upper level demons. You must have picked up on us doing it and copied it without instruction."

"That sounds... plausible."

"It's more than plausible. Listen, you've gotten training from all of us Pillars already. Fury is in your corner! It doesn't really matter if you say yes or no, you're pretty much our acting eleventh pillar anyways." Pepper assures him.

It takes Tony some time for this to sink in, but his friends are right. Dr. Yinsen was right. He shouldn't have been able to get this far but here he was. He was in a place where he could help people again, he'd be a fool to run away now.

He found that low level demons were nothing to him, any longer. He developed his own Breathing Style, quietly taking the information his friends taught him, and applying them in the field with his own twists.

He learns that the scars in his chest can still give him trouble, if he's too hard on himself, but he stops worrying about it. Everyone dies at some point. As long as his body holds together long enough to help people that's good enough for him.

Traces of the Demon King, the father of all Demons, had been sighted in the middle of some patch of nowhere. Though Tony has never seen the Demon King he knows him well enough.

His blood is what creates new demons, he is who founded the Twelve Moons, the high ranking demons that often cause the Demon Slayers trouble. The demon that killed Tony's parents was a Demon Moon.

No one is expecting Tony to run into the Demon King, just clean up any messes and find as much information as he can. That's all he's expecting out of this. But as he steps through the snowy night he hears heavy snarling.

As he draws closer he can smell blood and hear panicked words.

He draws his sword and approaches.

There's a demon attacking a human in the woods and Tony leaps forward.

He follows the ninth form of flame breathing, using it's speed and force to bulldoze into the demon, dragging it away from its prey. There is no blood in the snow, it hadn't gotten a chance to feast yet.

He changes his grip on his sword, to the second form of Flame Breathing. Enough strength to decapitate this demon without losing hold of its struggling form.

He's stopped by a desperate shout.

"Stop! What are you doing?!"

He looks at the human.

"This demon was attacking you." Tony says, as the blond man pushes himself up out of the snow.

"He's not a demon! He's my friend!"

A string of sympathy pulls through him. Still, Tony must do his job. He looks at the snarling creature in his grip. "He's not your friend anymore, look at him." He shakes his wrist and demon jerks at him his blue eyes piercing.

"Stop, please, I know him! He's just scared. He wouldn't hurt me."

"Listen, I know it's rough but you don't know him any more. He is a demon. Demons eat people. It's not complicated."

The man scrunches his face up, and Tony is worried he's going to cry before something is flying straight at him.

He dodges on automatic, frowns when he sees it was just a book, then hisses in alarm as the man runs straight for the demon.

Tony lunges into the sixth form of Rock Breathing, Arcs of Justice, as the human sprints forward. He is ready to throw his sword in desperate hope to pin the demon before it can attack the stupid guy throwing himself at it, when something altogether strange happens.

The demon stands as the man reaches him, lunging forward. But instead of tearing into soft human flesh the demon spins the man around and behind the demon.

Drool slips down the demon's chin. Tony didn't notice it before but the demon's left arm is missing and the tax on it's healing must be doubling or tripling its newborn hunger.

Yet it's still protecting the stupid guy instead of taking a chunk out of him.

He keeps his sword drawn, because he's not dumb, but he lowers it.

"Bucky, stop!" The man hisses, gripping onto the demon's sleeve.

"What's your name?" Tony asks.

"Steve. Steve Rogers. And this is my best friend, Bucky. He hasn't killed anyone, he might-- he might be a demon but he's still good! He, this happened because he was trying to protect us from the real demon that attacked our family!"

Tony's grip on his sword shifted.

He's never encountered a demon who didn't relish at eating humans at the very least. Tony's experience with them started with one standing over his dead parents and didn't improve from there.

But all demons were humans, once, and even Tony had gotten a second chance. He sheathed his sword.

"You cannot let him eat a human." He says.

"Of course he wouldn't!" Steve says, disgusted.

"Shut up. You can't let him eat a human, and if you want him around for any length of time make sure he doesn't get exposed to sunlight."

Steve's furious expression shifts into confusion, then wonder.

"What do you want Steve?"

"I--I want Bucky to be okay. I want the demon who did this to not be able to do it anymore."

"You don't want revenge?"

"I don't like bullies."

Tony huffs a small laugh. He thinks about Nicolas Fury, who had moved out of the Wysteria Estate to a mountain nearby. He thinks about Bruce's research and his mother's last words, and examines the way the demon... Bucky. How Bucky is still anchored, inexorably, in front of Steve's body.

"I'll take you to someone who can help you." Tony says.

The growling from Bucky has died down, now that the threat has passed. Steve's blue eyes bore into Tony as sharply as any knife.

"Thank you," Steve finally says.

Tony laughs. "Sure," he says, "You might be taking that back when you meet him."

Tony wonders if maybe seeing this, seeing a demon who chose not to give in, seeing a human save his friend, if this was why he was still alive. If, maybe Tony couldn’t save his family but he can help someone else save theirs.

He walks past Bucky and Steve, away from the upturned snow of their aborted battle. As he passes he notes the surety of Steve's grip on Bucky and something in him hems and haws.

Tony thinks, instead of a sword, he'll try making a shield.

Read Everything | Read Chapter 2

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Tim - Travle

by Thefrogcouncilsitsinjudgment bruce has just died. like you know how all other major characters "die". Tim knows he obviously isn't dead. to bad that his family sucks at grief management. the time travel is inspired by interstellar - if you want to watch the movie than watch Neil explain the 3 dimensions firstly. thats a game changer with not so many options left of, ignore Bruces probably not dead status or safe the idiot by teaming up with rather questionable co-workers he takes the secret third option. time travel. as one does. traveling back its only natural to go back before Jason dies. well he miscalculated and Jason is already six feet under; and sadly not already zombified but still getting eaten by fungi. so what now? stranded in way back Tim runs through Gotham, helps bruce with his problematic bachelor life and gets his family some peace and quite that they deserve. choosing the name of "cardinal" acting as the family's personal guardian angle from the shadows of Gothams helping hands. Words: 6849, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Drake (DCU), Tim Drake's Parents, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members & Tim Drake (DCU), Janet Drake & Tim Drake Additional Tags: the women of the batfamily get mentioned but I dont know them to well, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Tim Drake-centric (DCU), Baby Tim Drake, minor character death both canonical and not canonical, im not to familiar with all of the canon so "canon divergencies", Hurt/Comfort, Tim drake is loyal af, is it homicide if you kill your alternative self?, unternet suit-inspired, authors native language isn't English-deal with it, bruce Waynes copying mechanisms suck, nobody in this family is mentally well, but they are trying, Character Study, so no complaints because something isn't right, Gotham is alive in a phantom way, soul companions (animal shape your soul can turn into because I like the concept), Tim Drake is Bad at Feelings, Unreliable Narrator Tim Drake, its probably gonna turn out okay in the end (its 50 / 50), I wrote this while procrastinating dont expect to much, I also wrote this for my self y'all only got invites to enjoy the show alongside via https://ift.tt/uvAi4k0

[chlobenet]

VIOLENT DELIGHTS ASK DROP 💀🖤

I’ve not been online for a hot minute and I’ve come back to 50+ Gennie asks so lets just get straight into another ask drop under the cut ♡

I need some inspiration on what to write next so I will definitely add this to the maybe list - open to more suggestions as well! 

Ooooh Polly 10000% has a soft spot for Gennie, and Gen looks up to Poll so so so much, honestly she lowkey idolises her. I do think some earlier season Gen could be fun to write so i’ll definitely keep these ideas in mind!

The only specific scene that comes to mind at the minute is the scene with the italian that tommy kills in the kitchen when the chef is like “my hands have blood” and tom says “so have mine.” I think gennie would be pretty shocked by this side of thomas that she has absolutely never seen before. For the most part though, I do think that the boys successfully keep gen away from the gory truth of the peaky blinders - but she does hear about it a lot of the time, and sometimes it makes them feel lowkey bad because they never want gen to be disappointed in them, or even worse...scared of them.

Gen and tom aren’t even a romantic coupling at this point but I can 100% get behind thomas standing up and even physically shielding her from the police with his own body - blocking them from getting to her. At the time gen wouldn’t even realise what he’s doing because she is just so shocked by the events that are unfolding infront of her. After a while they’re the only ones in the room and she would just be blinking at him, confused, upset, hurt. He’ll just stare back at her for a long time “dont look at me like that Gennie...” 

listen buddy, pal, my guy...i love her too sm and I love that you love her and that means that I love you! As for this scene, it’s definitely one i’ll hopefully be able to incorporate into a chapter of violent delights because the way gen and tom are together compared to tom and ada for example is extremely different and it would be a fun contrast to see.

same so much...gen is... baby🥺

now I’M crying at the thought of tommy introducing gen as his wife to people and oh GOSH.

Listen Gen mad or upset is the absolute worst because she doesn’t scream and shout at you, she doesn’t throw things around the room or show any kind of emotional at all really. When gen is mad, she gets real real quiet and she probably wont speak to you for a while and she’ll be damned if she looks at you because honestly looking at you when you’ve hurt gen physically hurts her heart. There’s no greater pain in gennie locks eyes than betrayal or someone doing something knowing that it is going to hurt you - so yeah she doesn’t get into a slanging match with tommy and in some ways he thinks it’s so much worse. She will talk things through though, after she’s had time to collect her thoughts and sort of...evaluate how she’s feeling about situations.

Tommy knows that gen wants kids and he knows with every fibre of his being that she would make the most amazing mother. I don’t think gen would ever really talk about it because she knows tommy already has children and she doesn’t ever want him to think she expects things of him but yes she wants kids more than anything on earth. It’s just sort of an unspoken thing between them, they know it’s going to happen - but they’re not rushing it, when it happens it happens and it will be magical.

Honestly I dont actually think gennie does realise just how much tom does love her, even though he does tell her. She just can’t fathom that someone could possibly love her, little gennie lock, that much. But he does.

Gennie, John and Archie are all the same age. A lot of people thought Gen and Arch were twins in school but nope, just cousins! 

Gen worries about Arthur, she really does. I think that she would maybe try and discuss it with tommy but he would explain that arthur is the kind of man that needs to have a purpose and sometimes arthurs only purpose in life is doing business for the peaky blinders. If he wasn’t given something like that to focus on then he would be left to his own devices and even gennie herself knows that has the potential to be so much more dangerous.

Oh my goodness I love this. I do love the idea that gennie is so gracious that she gives off this air of sort of...not importance but you understand what I’m trying to say. I love the idea of the line you’ve come up with for tom and lowkey might steal it. I think the only thing that would ever give gennie away is the fact that although she is well spoken, and extremely intelligent she does still have her birmingham accent - and that’s just a dead giveaway right there.

I think I’ve answered something similar to this previously but basically alfie and gen have this strange sort of ~respect~ for one another. Gennie appreciates that he’s a dangerous man, but she also feels fairly safe in his presence. He makes it very clear early on that she has absolutely nothing to fear from him and she believes him when he says it. That doesn’t necessarily mean she likes him (initially at least) nor does she really trust him, but...yeah she respects him.

Tom would definitely be the one out of the pair of them to admit his feelings first, but he’s also got a whole world of respect for both gennie and his brother so it would be a bit troubling for him when he realises that wow he’s in love with little gennie lock from down the lane. I think he would tell her, but not exactly openly it would be more of a “please, stay...” kind of moment, where he reaches out and takes her hand. They’d both look down and their hands, and then back up at one another and gennie would just nod “okay.”

Hmmm good question, I’m undecided. There may well be a “its you, little gennie lock it’s always been you.” sort of line, maybe on their wedding day but I’m not sure. I’m not even entirely sure thomas knows that’s how he’s always felt so WHO KNOWS - what do you think??

I don’t think so you know! Not through lack of suitors, because lets be honest gennie lock is an absolute catch. But she’s also extremely sentimental and loyal and she is pretty sure that john shelby is the love of her life and even though she’s resigned herself to the fact that they will never be together because of esme and her respect for their relationship - that doesn’t mean that she stops loving him, or that she can look at anyone else in that way. We love one (1) loyal princess.

Listen, tom and gennie talk. They talk a lot more than he talks to anyone else and he’s told her about the war and he’s told her about the dreams he has and sometimes he doesn’t even know why he’s telling her but she’s just so easy to tell and god is she an excellent listener. She doesn’t judge him. She understands that sometimes tommy needs to forget and he needs to sleep and she wants nothing more than for him to feel happy and safe and comfortable so if that’s what he needs then so be it.

I think if I wrote a scene where tom was having one of his grace moments and gennie entered then I’d write it as though grace sort of ... evaporated or disappeared the second gennie enters the room. Even if grace is midway through saying something, gennie is enough to push the thoughts or the hallucinations away and tom might stare dumbfounded at the wall for a hot minute in astonishment but then he’ll look at his wife and he’s just like #of course.

hahah i love this headcanon and I also think that gen would love to watch tom be around/talking about horses because he’s just so in his element and so...at peace?

I think after tommy refuses to go and see lizzie then polly would suggest to gennie that she go and see thomas. I think she’d consider sending lizzie, but then deep down polly knows that tom needs a sort of emotional support that lizzie isn’t capable of providing. You have to remember as well that gennie has lost archie who was the most important person in her life, she knows grief and she recognises that in thomas but there’s more to it than just grief. I think initially tom would try and push her away but..she’s not having any of that!

honestly idk if hair dye was actually a thing then?? so either gen darkens her hair as the seasons go on or...it’s more of a metaphorical thing. S1 gennie is brilliantly blonde, this wide eyes innocent little girl from birmingham who has absolutely no idea what she’s in for. By s5 gen has dark hair and it’s reflective of how her innocence has been tarnished by the peaky blinders as the years have gone on. She’s still an inherently good person, but s5 gen and s1 gen are two very different women. 

[little-wintry]

So. This is Different.

((I’ll cut to the chase. I’m absolutely sick as a dog, but somehow I have enough inspiration to write something for my big WIP. Like, the big one, the series, the one I wrote three books for. Am I gonna write book 4 today? Probably not, but hopefully sometime soon. But, I really really really wanted to post this here [so maybe I can get a tad bit of validation] before going into a cough medicine induced coma and binging [bingeing? binge-ing? don’t fucking know man] buzzfeed unsolved. I will explain a few things below, since obviously context will be needed for this sad 3 1/2 page passage, but just know this isn’t your average Destiny Shit(tm).))

Before we begin, know that this is from my main WIP, Paladins, both a well-fleshed out fantasy series and a bit of a plot-mess sci-fi series. The character this is written in the perspective of, Jacklyn, is the Champion of a goddess, Mirsith. Unfortunately, said goddess also has an evil counterpart, Minsar, which recently was able to corrupt Jacklyn enough after the death of her brother. This lead Kata, Jacklyn’s wife, to go after her. This whole thing is the battle from Jacklyn’s point of view. Yes, it’s a little whack, yes, I’m crazy, but I’m throwing this out into the void for some validation and also im sick, have mercy on a poor dumb soul. And like, this is gonna sound weird, but spoilers I guess? I dont fucking know man maybe i’ll publish this someday and if someone somehow manages to come across this i don’t wanna be a dick.

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

There was a burning pain the back of her head. 

It had been there for what felt like hours, now. Pulsing, biting, sending spikes of pain through her skull. She flinched with every wave of it, white spots dancing in her eyes.

Her body ached. It was as if she was stumbling through a dream, a dream heavy with smoke and heat and blood, less of a dream and more of an all-too-real nightmare. She was a whirl of blades, and anger burned hot in her chest.

Who was she angry at? She couldn’t remember. Her own sense of self was beginning to crumble, she was now nothing but a name that escaped her. Grief ran in her blood, grief for a face that was… close? Someone she knew, right?

She couldn’t remember them. Why was she grieving?

She was fighting a shadow. Not a Shadow, capital-S, the mindless servants that plagued this realm otherwise. But… a shadow, a memory, a faint silhouette against the web of storm clouds in the sky, and words, scattered and fragmented, filled the air.

She pinned the shadow down. Something about their figure, the subtle feeling of the way they fought and the way they almost seemed to try to calm her, it was… familiar.

Her dagger hovered above the figures chest. For a moment, it was all silent.

DO IT, a voice hissed in the back of her mind. She flinched. SHE IS AT YOUR MERCY, STRIKE DEEPLY INTO HER HEART.

She paused. The grief was beginning to vanish, the hot anger solidifying into a chunk of ice within her chest. Her mouth was dry, her muscles aching, and her heart, her heart was beating softly, as if it was beginning to… remember.

“N-No,” She whispered.

DO IT, YOU INSOLENT CHILD. SHE TOOK AWAY YOUR BROTHER, YOUR HOME, YOUR LIFE YOU ONCE WERE HAPPY WITH. SHE DESERVES TO DIE IN AGONY.

Lies. This voice, this consistent presence she was feeling, was lying to her, had been lying to her, this whole time. She could feel it now - the figure she had pinned was beginning to solidify, the words becoming clearer and clearer.

“Because I love you, and I always will-”

“No,” She said again, stronger. “She, she loves me. She cares about me, she’s my home-”

NO! SHE’S A VILE DEMON, A BLIGHT ON THIS WORLD-

“It doesn’t matter how much you hurt me because I know this isn’t the real you-”

Her hands were trembling now, and though she couldn’t see the figures face, she could picture it, perfectly in her mind. Warm, coffee brown eyes, onyx-dark hair. A smile that could chase away the worst nightmares.

“Kata-” She said, the name finally finding its way into her mouth. “Kata, I-”

STOP! The voice boomed. Her limbs screamed in pain, and her violence solidified, taking her over again. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the knife, but her eyes screamed with hot tears.

The figure - Kata, her wife - was still speaking, the words still echoing in her mind.

“I know for a fact, that when this is over, when we’re sitting at home and you’re back safe in my arms, you’re going to regret this. And I won’t even be mad, because I know you love me back, Jackie.”

Jackie, that was her, her name. 

The world around her came into view. Desaturated, crumbling buildings, a treeline in the distance, and Kata, pinned to the ground, bloody and bruised, with tears drawing lines down her cheeks.

But her mind was not her own. She couldn’t move a muscle.

With every ounce of her being, every ounce of this newfound self and love, she stood. The knife vanished in her grasp. Opposite of Kata, there was a woman, black ram horns and a blood-red gown, scowling and furious.

You are Jacklyn Storm, a Paladin, a protector, a wife and a friend-

You are a queen, not a pawn.

Not a pawn in someone else’s game.

The woman with the horns - Minsar, a name she remembered, a name that filled her mouth with venom - still held some control, still tainted her words, but Jacklyn found just enough independence to speak.

“Maybe being a Paladin did teach me a thing or two,” Jacklyn said, turning. Her mind ran quickly, thinking of how to purge the influence in her blood.

As a Champion of Mirsith, Minsar can influence you as well. As long as Minsar’s magic is within you, Minsar will always be there. You know what you must do.

Jacklyn did. But the very thought of it made her feel sick.

She turned her back to Kata for a moment. “I’m sorry, love.” She looked down at her hand, bloodstained, but through that blood a faint light began to pulse on her right palm, a tattoo of a snake.

She turned, and watched as Kata sat up, and called her name.

Jacklyn could not listen. Her own power began to pulse inside of her, in time with her heartbeat. Somewhere, far from this realm, she felt a flicker of hope. And a flicker of fear.

She felt like, at any moment, the world could go out from under her, like her very consciousness could collapse. Her heart kept beating, faster, more and more energy surging within her like a thunderstorm.

You are Jacklyn Storm-

She remembered the first time she touched that Shrine.

A Paladin-

She remembered running into the midst of battle for her friends’ sake.

A protector-

She remembered her wedding and long, late night talks with Atalanta and Lupa, with the rest of her team sitting by her side.

A wife and a friend-

Her coronation. The tall white spires of Neptune and the throne with an amethyst inset into the headrest and her own crown, which she was sure sat on her dresser back home.

You are a queen-

Minsar’s rage was tangible now. The rage of an immortal, an insane one at that, who was now having all of her delicate plans thrown away in an instant.

Kata was standing now, trying to make her voice heard over the maelstrom of magic.

Far away, her friends were fighting a battle they could loose.

Far away, eight immortals were locked in cells.

But here, and now? 

You are not a pawn in someone else's game.

A mortal, a single mortal, is writing upon the currents of time and doing what dozens of others before her could not.

Minsar ran towards her, a fistful of destructive magic in one hand. Kata screamed her name again, and Jacklyn had to ignore them all. Her entire body now, was alight with magic, and Jacklyn sent all of it out in one final shockwave.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

ntiitaniumxwill replied to your post “40) things you said when you met my parents crime au”

*kicks door down* oKAY SO i finally got around to reading this and my eyes teared up????? like for real?????????? i love this world and this AU has a special place in my heart and ive never even thought of dip's parents and i am............... Aghast at myself but u, my lovely and incredible wife, you are so AHEAD of me?????? i dont even know where to start. all of this is so beautiful, so detailed, the emotions , the atmosphere. i might be SCREAMING

*cue me flinching at the idea of a door being kicked down near me even tho i love this “meme”* i remember feeling almost numb writing it bc i was so worried about how i was going to write major’s parents. i didn’t want him to be too distant from them, but i wanted it to be obvious they were unaware of the situation. i wanted them to be unaware of everything that had happened after stan’s death. i wanted that awkwardness of meeting your bf/husband/whatever’s parents for the first time. i wanted there to be an obvious strain, an obvious change that no one was going to talk about bc “at least our boy came back”. i wasnt sure what i was going to do with them, everyone sees them so differently, i think. so i took a kind of middle-road approach, with them having instilled certain things in their children. i really was unsure of how i was going to handle the “killing blow” scene. i knew it was what i wanted to do w why they were visiting, but i wasnt sure how i was going to have their parents react. i’ve never lost a child, i’ve barely lost a loved one. i’m not very familiar w grief personally, so i was unsure how to paint these characters w it, especially since they’re still v static i think in general. women are p much biologically coded to be more willing to show emotions and to cry than men (it’s testosterone okay) so i knew i was going to have the mom cry. most of the men in my family go into some form of shutdown when they get overly-emotional so that’s what i went w for him. also i pulled the names out of my butt and didn’t realize the “ma” part of maggie, mabel, and mason until i was in the middle of that scene and had written it like five times. so that was completely on the fly. but this is honestly something i could’ve seen easily being tens of thousands of words one-shot material. i am so so so honored you loved them, bc i was so so unsure of them the whole time i was writing them. this whole drabble was new territory. i’d never written a “meet-the-parents” scene and have barely experienced any irl so i wanted to make sure it was the right amount of awkward/heart-warming/strained-bc-of-their-life-choices thing. i wanted so desperately for it to feel like major and lioness are almost emotionally detached from the whole thing, but i knew that even if major wasn’t dipper anymore, his parents would still inspire a small piece of what might be left in major. and lioness would be nervous for so many reasons and one of them would certainly be if they’d like her. if they’d think she’s the reason he hadn’t come home in so long.

again, i always see my writing in my head like a movie, and do my best to put that movie into words. the scene at the end, w them in major’s old room, i fought w the wording and pacing w it. i wanted it to feel like a time machine and a nostalgia trip and a little bit like a funeral all at once. i wanted it to feel like what a parent must feel to walk into their child’s room when they’re no longer there. i wanted it to be a mourning period, especially for pacifica, who mourns the loss of dipper more than almost anyone else. she loves major more than anyone in the universe, more than herself, but she will always, always miss the opportunity to know dipper. to fall in love with dipper. it’s not hers to regret, but she wishes so hard she could’ve known who that boy could grow up to be. what kind of man he could’ve become.

pls never worry about thinking about the parents. i almost never think about characters parents unless they’re important for plot reasons (like paz’s).  i literally made them up as i went. i tried to take into account how old they’d be and then like, compared it to my own parents and grandparents and tried to hit an idea of what they’d do w their time. watching wheel of fortune and game shows like that is something we often do in the evenings at my one set of grandparents’ house so that’s where that came from. and then someone had give mabel even the idea of knitting so i thought her mother would be a good place (plus my grandma knits so. jacked that from her too).

also also also the whole “they can’t stay here” line of thought came from a fic i’d re-read recently and i knew that was the tone i was going for.

thank you so much for reading this and also babe i LOVE YOU and ALL THE SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT YOU’VE GIVEN ME OVER THE YEARS!!! YOU’RE ONE REASON I KEEP COMING BACK AND WRITING. THANK YOU!!!

as i mentioned i remember feeling numb writing it, and now when i read over it i feel distanced, like i’m watching from afar. i might revisit this and extend it or something bc as much as they’re static-feeling i love how i portrayed their parents and would love another opportunity to expand on them. it felt like such a big thing to tackle, bc i knew there needed to be so much written to even cover why they’d go back to california. at one point i thought maybe i’d put them in their teens and they’d be there for the tradition of introducing your partner to your parents. maybe it would be after they’re married and it’s a stop on a short honeymoon. i had a handful of ideas why, but i knew this one was the right pick as many times as i wanted to make it something else.

the “opening scene” of them in the car, in my head there’s no background muisc, maybe the rushing of the wind through open windows, but no music. i can hear something soft and melancholy and aching when they’re in major’s old room, when they look at mabel’s door is when it’d start probs. that sad full house violin music when major’s trying to tell them mabel’s gone. when he’s explaining why. (literally that track makes me cry every time) something soft but ultimately happy plays when they reunion begins, hitting a crescendo when maggie throws herself down the stairs to her son. a sort of sinister music when lioness and major are telepathically talking about what major’s done to his father’s mind.

gosh i might have to do more parts bc i can see them staying for at least a weekend if not an entire week just talking to the parents and helping them understand and cope.

i’m so glad u love it, wife, and i’m so thankful that you see the details, but ultimately i think i could’ve given even more and extended it even further. this is definitely a thing i’m open to writing more of.]

[edit: the scene where they tell them about mabel, paz mentions her empathy spiking. i’ve lowkey decided that she’s so connected to major that some of what’s given him his telepathy has sort of flowed into her, and because she’s taken on being major’s humanity, she’s extremely empathic, and the supernatural just enhanced it. so she actually feels what others are feeling. this allows her to be more aware of major’s emotional state, but also can be used to manipulate enemies and lackeys alike. she can’t manipulate their emotions, but she can use what she’s feeling from them to sway them one way or another. touching mr. pines in the scene where her body is screaming at her to be comforting could’ve been disastrous bc his emotions are running so high from less than a foot away that she already felt like she was grieving as hard as he was. she might’ve completely lost herself in his emotions if she’d touched him. it was kinda a last-minute decision in that scene but it’s an idea i like a lot. she probably wouldn’t start to develop it until she’s been with major for years.

so yeah that was supposed to be a subtle thing but idk how subtle it was so i’m explaining it all now.]