#i like legitimately hate my mother but i AM grateful she turned them down without mentioning it to me

[lavender-town-radio]

I manage to tuck away some inconvient traumatic memories behind... association reminding me it happened, I guess. Which is why I only remember my church therapist wanted to perscribe me an exorcism as treatment when ai was a teenager sometimes, usually when Netflix mistakenly suggests horror movies about possession to me.

[nashvilledreams]

My Naya, my Snixxx, my Bee. I legitimately can not imagine this world without you.

7 years ago today, she and I were together in London when we found out about Cory. We were so far away, but I was so thankful that we had each other. A week ago today we were talking about running away to Hawaii. This doesn’t make sense. And I know it probably never will.

She was so independent and strong and the idea of her not being here is something I cannot comprehend. She was the single most quick-witted person I’ve ever met, with a steel-trap memory that could recall the most forgettable conversations from a decade ago verbatim. The amount of times she would memorize all of those crazy monologues on Glee the morning of and would never ever mess up during the scene… I mean, she was clearly more talented than the rest of us. She was the most talented person I’ve ever known. There is nothing she couldn’t do and I’m furious we won’t get to see more.

I’m thankful for all the ways in which she made me a better person. She taught me how to advocate for myself and to speak up for the things and people that were important to me, always. I’m thankful for the times I grew an ab muscle from laughing so hard at something she said. I’m thankful she became like family. I’m thankful that my dad happened to have met her weeks before I did and when I got Glee, he told me to “look out for a girl named Naya because she seemed nice.” Well dad, she was nice and she became one of my favorite people ever.

If you were fortunate enough to have known her, you’ll know that her most natural talent of all was being a mother. The way that she loved her boy, it was truly Naya at her most peaceful. I’m thankful that Naya got that beautiful little boy back on that boat. I’m thankful he will have a strong family around him to protect him and tell him about his incredible mom.

I just hope more than anything that her family is given the space and time to come to terms with this. For having such tiny body, Naya had such a gigantic presence, a void that will now be felt by all of us - those of us who knew her personally and the millions of you who loved her through your TVs. I love you, Bee.

My favorite duet partner. I love you. I miss you. I don’t have words right now, just lots of feelings. Rest In Peace Angel, and know that your family will never have to worry about anything.

We started out as the closest friends and then like all new things, we went through a bit of a rocky phase. However, we stuck by each other’s side and created the most beautiful friendship built out of love and understanding. The last I had the chance to see you in person, I had left oranges outside our home for you to take. I wanted to say hi through the window but my phone didn’t ring when you called (which it never does, f*cking T-Mobile), so instead you and Josey left two succulents on our doorstep as a thank you. I planted those succulents and I look at them everyday and think of you. I still listen to your EP on repeat because from the moment I heard it, it struck me and I always wished the world knew more of your voice. You sent me over 5 dozen SnapChat videos when you and Josey woke up in the morning and I kick myself that I didn’t save one of them. You always shared recipes and I admired your love for food. We vowed to spend every Easter together, even though Covid stole this last one from us. You are and always will be the strongest and most resilient human being I know, and I vowed to carry that with me as I continue to live my life. 

You constantly taught me lessons about grief, about beauty and poise, about being strong, resilient and about not giving a fuck (but still somehow respectful). Yet, the utmost important lesson I learned most of all from you was being a consistent and loving friend. You were the first to check in, the first to ask questions, the first to listen..you cherished our friendship and I never took that for granted. 

We never took photos together because we mutually hated taking pictures...our relationship meant more than proof. I have countless pictures of our babies playing, because we shared that kind of pride and joy. So I’m showing the world a photo of our little goof balls for you, because I know that meant more than anything and they remind me of you and I. I speak to you everyday because I know you’re still with me and even though I’m feeling greedy that we don’t get more time together, I cherish every moment we had and hold it close to my heart.

There are no words and yet so many things I want to say, I don't believe I'll ever be able to articulate exactly what I feel but... Naya, you were a ⚡️ force and everyone who got to be around you knew it and felt the light and joy you exuded when you walked into a room. You shined on stage and screen and radiated with love behind closed doors. 

I was lucky enough to share so many laughs, martinis and secrets with you. I can not believe I took for granted that you'd always be here. Our friendship went in waves as life happens and we grow, so I will not look back and regret but know I love you and promise to help the legacy of your talent, humor, light and loyalty live on. 

You are so loved. You deserved the world and we will make sure Josey and your family feel that everyday. I miss you already.

She was bold. She was outrageous. She was a LOT of fun.⁣

Naya made me laugh like no one else on that set. I always said it while we were working together and I’ve maintained it ever since. Her playful, wicked sense of humor never ceased to bring a smile to my face.⁣

She played by her own rules and was in a class of her own. She had a brashness about her that I couldn’t help but be enchanted by. I also always loved her voice, and savored every chance I got to hear her sing. I think she had more talent than we would have ever been able to see.⁣

I was constantly moved by the degree to which she took care of her family, and how she looked out for her friends. She showed up for me on numerous occasions where she didn’t have to, and I was always so grateful for her friendship then, as I certainly am now.⁣

And even as I sit here, struggling to comprehend, gutted beyond description- the very thought of her cracks me up and still brings a smile to my face. That was Naya’s gift. And it's a gift that will never go away. ⁣

Rest in peace you wild, hilarious, beautiful angel.

How can you convey all your love and respect for someone in one post? How can you summarize a decade of friendship and laughter with words alone? If you were friends with Naya Rivera, you simply can’t. Her brilliance and humor were unmatched. Her beauty and talent were otherworldly. She spoke truth to power with poise and fearlessness. She could turn a bad day into a great day with a single remark. She inspired and uplifted people without even trying. Being close to her was both a badge of honor and a suit of armor. Naya was truly one of a kind, and she always will be. 💔 Sending all my love to her wonderful family and her beautiful son.

Dear Naya, 

I’m failing miserably to process this news. I always imagined old future senior moments where we would hear your infectious laughter down the hall knowing that our funny bone was in for a treat. To many people, myself included, you were the life of the party. Not only able to rock when fun was to be had after a long day but that shining friend that was always willing to listen, offer sympathy, perspective and at times, give much needed levity to any situation. 

You were a beast on the show. I admired you as I watched you nail multi page monologues that you learned moments before and pour your heart into every performance with an energy that had that snicks special written all over it. Our deep conversations about life inbetween scenes are some of my favorite moments with you. Getting to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future and with Josey’s arrival, ‘Your greatest success’ I was so happy to see your dream turn into reality. 

You deserved more. I’m so sorry but you deserved more. You gave life your all and I hope all the good that you have given to the world will be returned in abundance when you reunite with our brother in the heavenly skies. I’m so grateful for our memories. We will make sure to keep your legacy and spirit alive so Josey will grow up to know the incredible woman you were. Love you, Naya. You are already missed. Eternally. 

-HSJ

Naya and I fell into stride with such ease, she was my first friend and ally on our show. In the pilot, our characters came and went with such swiftness. Our enthusiasm brimmed with all of the unknown. We tried to grasp what the other cast members must be feeling as we were working in such separate manners. We dared to dream. What if this show worked? Wouldn’t that be something? Something was brimming, it was palpable. And thank god it worked. Naya’s magnetic talent was going to be unleashed, we just didn’t know it yet. ⁣⁣

I’ve been revisiting Naya’s performances on our show and it has brought me great joy. To work with her was a gift. There was a great deal to absorb - her work ethic, her fearlessness, her talent - supreme. Naya had a laugh that would envelop you and hold you captive. She was mesmerizing. That twinkle in her eye, her luminous smile. Naya lead with truth, humor, wit. I loved her for all of these reasons. ⁣⁣

I loved her sense of curiosity and wanderlust. I was lucky enough to be her travel partner for some of my most favorite adventures. As I write this, I’m grinning with swelling memories of a spontenaous 36 hour excursion - one might even say diversion - to Paris. With Naya, everything was possible and would often simply unfold before us, almost magically.⁣⁣

On this particular jaunt, within ten minutes of checking into our hotel, we found ourselves strolling the halls of L'École des Beaux-Arts, sipping wine from paper cups with students showcasing their latest work. It was fantastic. We were united in our commitment to discovery. And there was always a list of cleverly curated ideas in Naya’s back pocket, should we need it. ⁣⁣

I cannot make sense of this tremendous loss. I will hold onto her and these memories for the rest of time, alongside our Glee family. Please hold space for her, her family, her beautiful boy. ⁣⁣

In absolute, loving memory.

Naya The world is at such a loss and I am truly heartbroken. I still remember the day I met you. You Walked straight up to me, grabbed me by the face and drug me around until I met every single person on set, introducing me as “new booty”. You were one of the first people who made me feel like family when others saw me as an outsider. I didn’t know then that you would become my family and that’s just who you were to everyone.. A Mother, Sister, Daughter and most of all a friend. Your massive heart and bright spark is what carried our entire show, when at times we all felt like giving up. 

You always showed up for me when I needed some wisdom or was down and just needed someone to talk to. You took care of everyone around you in a way that was so warm and comforting and you sure knew how to throw a hell of a party! 

I always admired your bravery and passion to fight for what’s right even when it seemed like you were up against the world. Your spirit is contagious and you continue to make everyone you have touched a better and stronger person by knowing you. 

My favorite part of glee was getting to watch you perform and shine up close every day. You really were the pulse of that show. Anyone who was blessed enough to see and experience your raw talent knows it to be true. You’re one of the smartest and most gifted people I have ever met. There is no one like you and there never will be.

You have changed peoples lives all around the world and you continue to change mine forever. I will never forget your love and kindness. Thank you for sharing your spirit Angel.

I will miss you always. I Love you Naya

For the last 7 years the 13th of July has shattered our hearts beyond repair. There aren’t enough words to describe the pain we are feeling, we are truly heartbroken at the loss of @nayarivera .

Naya, Cory loved you so so much. He cherished your friendship more than you will ever know. From the laughs you shared, to the strength you gave him when he needed it the most. Cory truly adored you. He was in awe of your incredible talent, the way you gave everything you had to each performance; the slap in the auditorium was one of his favourite stories to share. You once said Cory was like a member of your family; you will always be a part of ours. We’ll carry you in our hearts forever. We miss you. Friends reunited for eternity.

We send all our love and strength to your beautiful boy, your family, friends and fans 💔🐻💔

[modernpace]

Loki x Reader Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Thor led you to a lavish banquet hall. A long wooden table sat at the center of the room and was filled with men and women. They were talking and laughing, telling stories of their adventures. The two of you stopped as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on a beautiful woman standing off to the side. He guides you over to her and bows his head.

"Mother."

She smiled brightly and held her hand out to him. Her golden locks were pinned up, like a halo made of hair. Her gown was a dandelion yellow, with a sheer mesh-like neckline decorated with a mosaic of gems.

You quickly snap out of it and curtsy with your fist over your heart and your head bowed.

"This must be your friend," she said patting his arm.

"Y/n L/n, your majesty," you responded. Thank god Thor briefed you about introductions on your way here...who know what would happen if you were rude to the Queen.

She gently lay a hand on your arm, "Come, let me have a look at you, dear." You stand and look up, but avoid looking at her directly. I must look like an idiot. "The dress looks lovely on you. Compliments you well." She smiled kindly at you. You saw so much of Thor in her face: kind eyes, big smile.

You beamed at her, "I can't thank you enough, your majesty, for allowing me to come to Asgard. It's a beauty like no others."

Nodding she responded, "And as far as my husband is concerned, I'm the one who offered you this opportunity after my son confided in me." She winked at you, and without question, you nodded in agreement. She turned to Thor and laid a hand on his bicep and gave him a sympathetic smile.

They shared a knowing look before she excused herself, "I hope you enjoy the banquet, my dear. Tomorrow we'll discuss your training." Without another word, she left the banquet hall.

"Shall we?"

"Wait." He looked back at you. "What did she mean?"

He nodded, "She's probably going to bring Loki some books. I don't know why she entertains him. He--"

"No," you interrupted, "you know what I mean."

"My father..." you nodded for him to continue. "He doesn't believe Midgardians should be on Asgard."

Your mouth dropped slightly and you muttered, "Well that would've been great to know beforehand"

He gave you an apologetic look and began walking toward a different door. You followed closely behind him. He led you to a throne room. High pillars line the hall on both sides. On the opposite end you entered from, there were no walls, just a beautiful view of Asgard and its city. Standing under an archway, Odin stood and studied his kingdom.

"Father." Odin didn't flinch, or turn or even acknowledge your presence. He just stared out at Asgard. "I present Lady Y/n." You bow with your fist against your heart.

"Have you settled in nicely?" He inquired.

"Um," you instantly got your shit together, forgetting your nerves. "Yes, All-Father. Thank you for you opening your home to me, and allowing me the opportunity to hone my abilities, sir."

Your eyes remained at his feet and he chuckled. "Very well." He turned to his son and with a stern voice advised him, "During her stay on Asgard, she will be your responsibility. You are to ensure her safety, as well as maintain she stay out of trouble."

"Yes, of course, father," Thor responded with certainty.

"My dear," you daringly look up at him and he motions you to stand, "My wife tells me you possess the ability of illusions."

You cursed to yourself. Is it rude to correct the King? "That's definitely one way to put it. I hope to discover the full extent of my abilities so I can help people back home."

He gives a cautious smile, "I hope you remember that with great power, comes great responsibility. Any power can be used for good--or even bad for that matter. Carry that with you during your training." You hummed in understanding and he gestured for you two to head back to the banquet hall. "You may go, enjoy the banquet."

You both thanked him and made your way back to everyone.

"Definitely more intimidating than you said," you joked.

****

Thor had introduced you to his close friends: the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif. Volstagg was loud and hearty, Hogun was serious and silent, and Fandral was extremely polite and a little... flirtatious? Sif was bubbly but serious...definitely more bubbly when drinking.

They had welcomed you, asked you if you had any stories--which you didn't because you never actually went on a legitimate assignment. They still seemed warm and open to you. You were grateful for that.

Volstagg was telling a story about when he had come to Earth a few years back--when Thor had been cast out of Asgard. From Thor's hearty laugh and Sif's questionable smile, you could tell he was a very creative story-teller.

You weren't able to keep up with their high tolerance. And you thought Thor was an experienced drinker. Having all five of them guzzle down their ale, while you're not even done with your second mug. It didn't help that Asgardian alcohol was much more...intense.

Thor somehow lost track of your whereabouts while he and Volstagg were having a drinking contest. You found yourself stumbling into the dungeons, with a newfound sense of confidence. You wanted to confront Loki and his idiot face about his idiot remarks from earlier. You stumbled from cell to cell, forgetting where Loki was.

"You're not Loki," you moved to the next cell, "Ne-neither 're y-you." You looked around confused, the room spun a bit."Wherethehell isthat little--Oh!" You grinned like an idiot as you approached his cell.

He had an amused look on his face and mumbled, "This should be good."

You pointed your finger and narrowed your eyes, "You."

"Yes?"

"You...you..." you forgot what you were going to say. You tried to study his face but he kept swaying. Why was he swaying?

"Not very lady-like for you to be wandering the halls drunk as an idiot on your first night in Asgard."

"W-willyoushutup," You growled as you leaned against the stone beam next to his cell. "You oweme an an ap-apopology." You tried to look fierce and angry...but this was an embarrassing sight. Your hair was frizzy, your dress was disheveled, your eyes were drooping.

He stifled a laugh, never had he thought a mortal would look so funny...stupid, yes, pathetic, yes, but funny? This was a first.

You continued your drunken rant.

"I camehere t-t-to help Muscles. Cuzthat's what friends arefor," you whined and stomped your foot. Your knees felt week and your body was tired but you ignored them. "Imgonna be 'ere for-for, well Idunno how long but" you burped, "I made a promise. And I nev-never break 'em."

You looked directly into his emerald eyes. "Never," you emphasized.

He raised an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Shuddup." You looked him over and huffed, "You're such a-an emo."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" You waved your hand in dismissal.

"A-and a dra-drama queen." You giggle to yourself, imagining Loki like a 1950's actress, prim and dramatic...and so demanding. (I promise this isn't a dig at any actresses, just tryna emphasize Loki is a drama queen).

"You're quite pathetic," he said in a matter-of-fact one. You glared at him. Being done with your conversation you began to regain your balance. You wanted to leave him with one last gift before the night ended.

A malicious grin formed on your face.

Loki raised an eyebrow cautiously. You clumsily rubbed your hands together as your thought of your sweet revenge. He was completely dumbfounded by your strange actions, not knowing what was in store for him. You opened your eyes and giggled devilishly.

"I hope you and your new roommate get acquainted." A low growl from behind startled him. He slowly turned around and he paled when he saw a wolf twice his size standing opposite him. "I would hate to see you turned to dog-chow." Contentedly you turned around and happily stumbled a bit.

"Wait!"

You stopped.

"Wait, you can't kill me. You won't kill me."

You glanced back, "Oh?"

The wolf inched closer, snarling at him.

"Wait wait wait wait."

He pleaded with you. How...out of character for the big bad wolf I heard about, you thought. You chuckled as the wolf growled and pounced. He flinched and turned his body away from it, waiting to be torn to shreds. But it never came.

You burst out laughing and lost your balance. You landed on the stone floor, gasping for air.

Loki looked at you with pure outrage. The wolf stood outside the cell now, circling you protectively.

"You deceived me."

You finally caught your breath. "Oh god, that was good." You finally felt a little more stable and stood up, "Didn't think the God of Mischief would fall for something like that.”

"You'll regret that you mewling quim," he growled like your wolf. You could practically see his aura around him: rageful, vengeful, out-of-his-mind angry. But you shrugged it off. Sweet sweet psychological torture.

"Doubtful. Totally worth it," you quipped shaking your head with a proud smile.

You waved your hand and the wolf dispersed into the air. "Gooooodniiiiight," you sang as you left Loki's cell.

___________

A/N: Hi Everyone! I just finished this chapter at 4 AM!!!!!!!!I clearly don't get enough sleep lmao.I'm gonna work on chapter 5 tomorrow; my plan is to publish it tm but expect it for Monday evening.I hope you enjoy this chapter! Goodnight! (or Goodmorning lol). PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK

-Izzy

[nellie-elizabeth]

Outlander: Never My Love (5x12)

I... Have... Issues.

Cons:

I don't want to blame the show-runners too much for the story-line with Claire, as it is lifted straight from the books. But do you know what occurred to me as I was watching this? The rape was actually completely unnecessary to the story. Like - seriously. Change nothing else. Show Claire being beaten and bloody and tied up, and it's awful and it's hard to watch and the performance is raw and honest and all that jazz.

But why rape? Why rape again? We've already had a story-line about Jamie being raped, and a story-line about Brianna being raped. At some point it's just torture porn. And the fact that she is sexually assaulted makes Jamie and the other men's journey feel like this really gross macho revenge fantasy. Again, I know this is all lifted straight from the books. And let me tell ya - it's one of my least favorite things in the books, too.

They added in this interesting thing where Claire is fantasizing about a happy life in the twentieth century with all her family around her, at Thanksgiving. So we keep cutting between Claire tied up and crying in the forest, and these happy idyllic snapshots, of Jocasta and Murtagh, Ian in a uniform, Marsali and Fergus and their kids, Claire and Jamie happy together. There were things about this idea that I liked, but I had two big problems, as well.

For one thing, the thought that the fantasy Claire escapes to is of the future, of her own time, is... really sad, isn't it? It's not poignant, it's just depressing, to think that while Claire fantasizes about Jamie and the rest of her eighteenth century family, she longs for the trappings and safety of a twentieth century existence. That's not the sense I've gotten from her character at all, that she's still missing her old life. It felt really awkward and out of place.

And secondly, why did Brianna and Roger and Jemmy die in this little fantasy escape of Claire's? I guess it has something to do with the pain she feels at not thinking she'll ever see Bree and Roger again, but it felt out of place in the fantasies, which in turn felt out of place in the scenes.

Speaking of Brianna and Roger... I already felt like last week's goodbyes with them were really tepid and unmotivated. I didn't understand why they were leaving at that exact moment. In the book, as I said, there was a very clear reason for their departure. But here, they go through the stones, and end up back where they started. Ian is startled to see them, and it turns out that when Brianna and Roger thought of home, it took them back to where they started, because the Ridge is home to them now.

Ugh. Barf. That's... way too cheesy for my taste, I'm sorry to say. And it makes last week's weirdly underwhelming goodbye... even more underwhelming. After all of that, the Mackenzies are just content to stay in the past? And it just made the plot more confusing, because this final episode wasn't about them, and their choice to stay after all. It was about rescuing Claire from Lionel Brown. So Roger shows up, Jamie is glad to see the family, but there's no time to really process it - Roger is coming along on the mission to save Claire. Why not change it up, so that Roger and Bree decide to leave, but before they can set off, the attack happens and they have to stay because Claire was taken? Then they could have a talk, after it's all over, about how they don't want to leave while things are so uncertain, and maybe they don't want to leave at all.

This season's timeline is very disjointed to me. We just saw Marsali give birth to her baby girl, right, but now she's pregnant and showing again? When was it that months passed without my noticing? Did anyone else feel some whiplash with all of that?

I'll finish off this "cons" section by circling back to a complaint I already made last week, which is that this did not feel like the natural culmination to a season of television. The Browns were barely characters, the whole subplot about Claire being Dr. Rawlings was hardly a thing. This was a season about Bonnet, about Roger almost dying (and oh boy that didn't get very much screen-time did it?), it was a season about the War of Regulation. This attack on Claire feels like it came out of nowhere and only existed to make something dramatic happen in the finale.

Pros:

Okay so I didn't actually despise this episode, despite my litany of complaints about it.

To start with, while I had some problems with the revenge fantasy aspect of Claire's rescue, I did think the fight choreography was really good and conveyed the brutality of the violence being committed. That's something Outlander very often gets right. The image of Ian and Fergus looking down on Claire as Jamie kneels beside her, so much compassion and honor for their mother-figure... that was really powerful. And Roger taking a life, the significance of that, and the way he confessed it to Brianna in the dark... all of that left quite an impact. I also love how seriously Jamie takes Claire's oath as a doctor, that she will do no harm. It's a great moment from the books that was borrowed here, where Jamie says that Claire cannot kill for herself - "it is I who kills for her."

While I question the whole point of the twentieth century fantasy stuff, it was still fun to see everyone in more modern, recognizable clothing and hair-styles. Very much of the '60's, but still. It was strange to see Marsali with the long straightened hair, and Jocasta and Claire with their conservative shortened styles. Seeing Ian and Jamie in modern garb was legitimately disconcerting, which goes to show how wonderful this show is at total immersion. The setting and time period is very solidly 1760's, and I get totally swept up in that to the point where it was really fascinating and kind of fun to see them all in this different setting.

I'll go ahead and say that Caitriona Balfe did a great job with her performance. It was hard to watch the torture porn but I did appreciate her dedication to Claire's experience, and she did a great job with some frankly clunky dialogue when she was listing all the trauma she's experienced and talking about how she won't be broken by this.

The real show-stealer of the night, though? Marsali. This is the best thing that the show-runners have changed from the book to the show. Placing Marsali in the position as Claire's protege, giving her more personal agency and more to do outside of being a wife and a mother, paying off the difficult beginning of her relationship with Claire. All of this is top-notch stuff. When Claire comes back after Jamie rescues her, we see her and Brianna embrace, and that's sweet or whatever, but I felt so much more when I saw Marsali approach, with her face all bruised, to embrace Claire. They weathered the attack together.

And then Marsali killing Lionel Brown... chills. When she said "I've taken no such oath," and then Jamie finds her and she's freaking out about killing him, asking if she'll go to Hell. There was just so much going on in that performance, so many layers to what was happening, and I was totally spell-bound.

I try not to harp on and on too much about the books vs. the show, but in this case I want to praise the show for taking out a part of the book that I hate, which is Jamie being worried that Claire might be pregnant from one of her rapists, and wanting to have sex with her right away so he can have plausible deniability that he might be the father. I am just... grateful that they didn't include this aspect in the show. It's gross. I don't want to deal with it.

In place of that we see Claire grieving what has happened to her, we see her telling Lionel Brown: "I will do you no harm," we see her breaking down but finding inner strength, and we see her curled up in the arms of her husband, taking strength from him. I really wish this story hadn't happened like this in the show, but I did appreciate the care and attention given to the aftermath.

So there you have it. This season was... disjointed at best. I really do wonder if season six will be the end of Outlander. It would make a certain amount of sense, given how many of the plot threads from the books have been excised/shortened into a more streamlined format for the show. Unfortunately, I feel like there were a lot of misses this season, and I hope they can come back with something stronger in the future!

6.5/10

[firelxrdsdaughter]

A Foolish Undertaking Chp 8

Read it on A03!

We’re getting close to the end I think. It’s exciting!! This is the chapter in which Iroh has trouble reconciling with how Ozai has treated his kids 8D

Something inside of Iroh snaps. It rears its ugly head, making him nauseous and rage filled all at once.

VIII

Iroh

Azula is feverish. Iroh wrings out the cloth he has been using to blot at her forehead into the container of cool water that he’d sent Zuko to get the moment that they’d gotten far enough away to stop and make camp in the wood. He places it back on her forehead, and watches her wince at the sudden cold of it.

The slice of iris that he can see past her eyelashes is bright as it settles on him, watching. She’s waiting for something. Perhaps for the other shoe to drop. Azula has learned to be cautious of him and Zuko in the last eight hours of her life, and though Iroh doesn’t think he would have handled the situation quite like this…Zuko had done what worked best at the moment, he assures himself. It makes him feel no better about the state of things.

“How are you feeling,” he asks his niece. Her eyes slide closed momentarily, and he thinks perhaps the pain has finally caused her to lose consciousness, but her eyes open again not long after, wider and more alert than they have seemed since the three of them made camp.

“How do you think,” she answers after a moment. Her pale face is far whiter than usual, skin waxy, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Iroh feels the tight knot in his belly grow harder. His niece is not prone to admitting her weaknesses, or allowing others to see them, this much he knows. She’s cautious at best with her true feelings.

“Your wounds are not good,” he admits to her quietly, glancing down at his cursory splints where they keep her leg immobile to prevent further damage “They are far beyond my abilities to treat effectively. If we do not bring you to a healer then you will likely never be able to walk the same again. It could permanently affect you.”

Perhaps it is cruel to worry her, but Iroh wants Azula to understand the full gravity of the situation. It will make the next leg of their journey together easier on all parties, in Iroh’s opinion.

Azula’s eyes close again, but this time it’s obvious that it is merely because of the pain, and perhaps mental anguish, of her wounds. Iroh tries not to think about the pang in his chest. The sapling that’s grown out of the sympathy that he learned for his niece the moment he heard her say that her mother had called her a monster. It is foolish and sentimental, and he can afford to be neither where is niece is concerned.

Still, Iroh had not been a good man in his younger years, but none of his family members had ever called him a monster.

Perhaps this is exactly what Azula wants, however; this feeling of sympathy. The need to prove to her that he’s not all bad. He hates that it is a gamble with the child. He wants to treat her as a young girl, and not an adult threat, and yet he has little choice in the matter.

“You’re being very brave,” Iroh tries, watching her. Her eyes slide open again, steeled.

“I am a soldier,” she says flatly, “I have endured worse.”

A soldier. The word curls at the base of Iroh’s tongue. He thinks of his beautiful Lu Ten, and the words coming from his lips too. Too young. Too inexperienced in battle. He should not have sent him to command at the front. He had been too willing to let his son play soldier.

Something inside of Iroh snaps. It rears its ugly head, making him nauseous and rage filled all at once.

“No,” he spits the word out, setting aside the bandages he has picked up to re-wind, the turf smacking under his wide palm, “you are not a soldier, princess Azula you are a child.”

The girl seems genuinely surprised, looking at him askance, leaning back into the bedroll that he’s set her upon to do his work. The words spill out of Iroh unbidden but he lets them come as they will.

“Your father has stolen your innocence from you and turned you into a woman before your time! When will you see that an injustice has been done to you and that you do not deserve to have been treated this way? That you are not a weapon, but a person who has yet to figure out who they are? Your brother already struggles with this but at least he had a fighting chance, with your father’s disdain. You have never had a chance in your life simply to be you. And you would go back there? To him? To the life you have been forced to lead so far?”

She searches his face still, swallowing hard. He watches the bob of her throat up and down with the motion.

“Is it so wrong to have a purpose?” She’s still defiant, her chin raised in pride for what has been done with her. Iroh’s grief threatens to overcome him. She is just a child. Agni she is just a child.

“There is nothing wrong with having a purpose, but that purpose should be decided upon by you,” he says. “You should have the right to choose what you wish for your purpose to be, instead of being told what it is by someone who does not have your best interests at heart!”

“You know nothing of my father’s intentions!” Her voice echoes around the clearing. This burst of emotion from Azula is new and unexpected, but it’s what Iroh has been searching for the entire time that he has had her under his care. He might have celebrated under different circumstances.

“Don’t I?” He gives her a pointed look, eyebrows raised as the level of her voice raises to match his previous one, denial thick in her tone. “I watched him grow up. When Fire Lord Azulon could not be there to raise him, I was the one to do it. I know your father very well, young lady.”

Iroh takes in a deep breath, levelling out his emotions, loosening his shoulders.

“You have two options before you, Princess Azula.”

She presses her lips together into a pale, thin, line, and fixes him with a look. Iroh forges forward.

“Either you can decide that you will not cause us more grief, that you will cooperate and not attempt to reinvent what happened in the village today, and I can find you a proper healer who will set the bones well, ensuring that you will have very few complications.” He sets the options out before her like a map, “Or, you can continue to be difficult and cause us problems, and I will leave the bones set as they are, and you can spend the rest of your life handicapped by this injury and likely unable to ever come back as you were. Useless to your father’s cause.”

This last has her face paling yet further, and Iroh nearly feels sorry for saying it, but he cannot afford this emotion, he knows. He has to push it away, and pretend that the idea that she might legitimately choose the second option does not cause him anguish.

“Well?” He sits stone faced, waiting for her answer.

Azula looks away from him, brow furrowed, her lips pursed in that familiar expression of displeasure that she has displayed so often since they kidnapped her. Then she takes a breath, lips parting.

“I will behave myself, uncle,” she promises, voice flat again.

“Good. Then I will take you with me into the next town over and we will find a healer.”

“And until then?”

“Until then, I can only hope that your discomfort will not be overtly intolerable.”

“That’s your drastic measure, is it?”

“I think you should count yourself lucky that it was your brother who took the drastic measures and not me.”

“Says the man who has just informed me that I may never be able to regain normal use of my leg again.”

“I only wish to arm you with the truth, so that you may make an informed decision on the matter,” he tells her truthfully enough. “I will not deny that Zuko’s solution was a little on the extreme side, but you were warned.”

Azula scoffs, disdainful, but does not argue back again. Iroh soaks the cloth in the water once more, wringing it out methodically, and placing it back on the princess’ forehead with a huff and then silence. His amber gaze turns pensively out toward the dark trees surrounding them beyond the scope of the campfire, searching the shadows for any signs of danger.

There are none. He is surprised that they were able to shake the soldiers that Azula had alerted, but he is grateful. He knows well enough that they have only hindered themselves more by wounding her. She cannot move quickly now, and it will mean that only one of them can fight at a time without a handicap.

It feels like the bars of a cage closing around him. Iroh shakes the sensation off.

There is a crunch of undergrowth, the slither of a footfall, and then Zuko reappears from the woods, looking between his uncle and his sister silently, grim. Iroh lets out a breath, and settles himself, smiling briefly at his nephew.

“Any sign of someone following?”

“No. I think we’ve finally lost them. For now.���

Iroh nods, feeling a sense of ease return to him despite his previous rage at the young girl lying at his knees. So he had been right.

“We must discuss where we will go from here, Zuko,” he informs his nephew then. The young man nods in return, settling himself at the far edge of the camp, away from Azula and her sickbed.

Iroh glances down at her. “Don’t go anywhere.” He can’t help but smirk at his own joke. She rolls her eyes at him, but says nothing.

The old man stands, crossing the clearing to sit next to his nephew, a package of dried meat in hand to share with Zuko. The former prince of the Fire Nation murmurs his thanks and takes a bite of the jerky, staring over Iroh’s shoulder at his sister’s still form on the sleeping roll. Cautious.

Even injured, Azula can pose a threat.

“She seems to have seen sense,” Iroh tells him in low tones, “and to understand the gravity of her situation. We will head toward the nearest town starting in the morning. We need to find her a healer, and I must make contact with some old friends in order to make our way easier…”

“Old friends?”

“Yes. I have traveled the world before now, and I have made many friends and acquaintances in my lifetime. They will no doubt be happy to help us out. Especially now that we are truly fugitives from the Fire Nation and not simply…banished Royalty.”

Zuko closes his eyes, breathing out sharply through his nose. Iroh reaches across the short distance between them, squeezing his nephew’s shoulder. The boy cracks an eye open, staring at Iroh in a way that he has not seen before. The old man’s brow screws up in bemusement, wondering at the troubled look on Zuko’s pinched features.

“What is the matter, Zuko?”

For a long pause, the former prince does not answer, but then his lips part, and he takes a breath. “Nothing. It’s…nothing.” He looks away briefly.

“What exactly is your plan, Uncle?”

“To find us somewhere safe to live.”

“Okay but what does that entail? I mean where exactly do you imagine is safe for us now? We can’t really just waltz into any towns without the need for extreme caution. Even if the next town isn’t a Fire Nation colony, that doesn’t mean our wanted posters won’t be out and ready for any bounty hunters that want to bring home a big prize.”

“This is true,” Iroh agrees, “but it is unfortunately something we will have to face regardless. We either face death in the Earth Kingdom if discovered, or we face death in the Fire Nation if we are captured. There are precious few options left to us other than to disappear, at least for a while.”

“But I don’t — !” Zuko presses his mouth into a thin line, much like his sister has a tendency to do. Much like their father in his youth. “I don’t want to disappear into obscurity. I want my throne. I want to be forgiven for — “

“For what, prince Zuko? You never did anything wrong to begin with.”

“Yes I did! I spoke out of turn. Dad banished me to teach me a lesson, not to get rid of me permanently.”

Iroh feels himself sink a little. Zuko is still so naive about this. So blind to the truth. It feels wrong to dash his hopes, but Iroh cannot so easily allow him to continue living in an illusion as he had done before. There had been hope before. There is no turning back from what they have done now.

“I know that that is what you wish to believe, Zuko…But the truth of it is that your father sent Azula to come and arrest us. His intentions were to lock you away in the Fire Nation, not to bring you back into the fold.” He reaches out, pressing his hand to his nephew’s wrist. He squeezes.

“Your father…is not a good example of what a father should be. I know that it is hard for you to accept because you want nothing more than to please him. To be accepted for who you are…But your father is not going to do that. He has demonstrated as much. There are still those in this world who care for you, though, and you are not alone.”

“People like you?” There’s sharp anger behind the question, though it borders on dull and hopeless. Iroh’s brow furrows.

“Yes. People like me.”

Zuko is silent, staring off into the wood, his hands still as they hang over his knees. Iroh cannot quite read whatever slips over his beleaguered features, the conflict within him rising and falling like waves on a remote shore.

“Zuko…”

“I’m tired,” he says glumly. “I’m going to sleep. We should start early if we’re gonna make it to the next town over in good time. Wouldn’t want Azula to be permanently damaged now, would we?”

Zuko’s hand slips out from under Iroh’s grasp, and the old man retracts his touch, letting his hands settle in his lap as he watches Zuko unfurl from where he’d been seated to trudge over to his sleeping roll. The boy hits the ground with a solid thud, grabbing the fabric to pull tightly over his shoulders, a defiant ball staring off into the woods beyond their camp.

Iroh bites back a heavy sigh, taking a piece of jerky for himself, and then returns to his vigil at Azula’s side. When he sees her face he finds that she appears to have fallen into a fitful slumber. He will not bother her for now. She will need this rest and more if she is to heal.

Iroh settles his back against the tree, closing his own eyes.

He surrenders to the peaceful dark of meditation.

[crystal-siren]

The Silent Truth (Loki x Reader)

Inspired by this imagine.

“We were happy,” she said, and her eyes, downcast and brimming, reminded him of how the sky was before the first splash of rain. “We were happy and they punished us for it.” ~ Lang Leav

“I swear to you,” Y/N clasped her hands together, “I would never do something like that.” Her e/c eyes pleaded with the Allfather, begging him to understand.

“Every criminal says that,” Sif spoke from the side, earning a glare from Y/N. “You’re not helping your case.”

Without warning, Y/N launched herself at the female warrior. Two guards had to pull her back before she could inflict any damage. Y/N grunted as her knees slammed onto the marble ground and she twisted her shoulders in an effort to rid herself of the guards that held her down.

“You know the penalty for you did,” the Allfather’s commanding tone drew her attention back to him.

“But I didn’t do it!” The pleading tone was back. “Please, you have to believe me,” the shackles on her wrists limited her movements. Y/N glanced away from Odin and towards Frigga, who stood silently in the shadow of the throne.

“Why isn’t he here then?” Y/N challenged her audience. “If my trial is legitimate, then he should be here.”

The Allfather made to answer when Frigga stepped forward and spoke for him. “You are right to ask that Y/N,” her tone was gentle and held a note of sympathy for the young woman before her. “You have a right to know.”

Swallowing hard, Y/N silently waited. Her heart rate began to increase steadily.

“I was all for him being here but,” the Queen paused before continuing, “the Allfather believed him to be too emotionally involved and that would only cloud his judgement of the situation.”

Y/N didn’t know how to react. She simply stayed where she was and blinked. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She was only vaguely aware of her guards tightening their grip on her shoulders.

“Due to the gravity of your crimes,” Odin’s booming voice shook Y/N from her shocked state. “You will receive double punishment.”

“What?” Genuine confusion coloured her tone. Fear entered her eyes as she caught sight of a healer who held a needle and thread. “Wh-what are they doing here?”

“Your lies only serve to further condemn you Lady Y/N.”

“But they’re not lies!” Y/N struggled against the strong grip of the guards. “Ask Thor.” A spark of hope made her eyes light up, “he’ll vouch for me.”

“I’m sure he would.” Odin’s tone was patronising and Y/N clenched her jaw.

“Fine then,” she took a shuddering breath, “ask him, ask Loki. I was with him the whole time.”

“As if he would tell the truth,” Y/N heard Fandral murmur from behind her.

“Unfortunately,” Odin spoke again, “neither Prince will be able to vouch for you.”

Y/N swallowed, “what are you saying ?” Her hope was vanishing disturbingly fast.

“Both Princes are off-world, as it were and they will not be back for some time.”

Y/N could hardly believe what she was hearing. “You’re lying.” The words came out in a strangled whisper. “He would have told me. He wouldn’t just leave.”

“Looks like you’re on your own Milady,” one of her guards taunted her, speaking her title as though it were a curse.

“You’re lying,” her voice was a little louder this time. Her e/c eyes became icy as they swept over the occupants of the throne room. “You’re all lying!” Her movements became erratic as she tried to free herself from her restraints.

The sound of the Allfather’s spear connecting with the ground caused her to freeze and look at him. “The only liar in this room is you Lady Y/N.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest when he silenced her. “No. You have spoken quite enough.” Y/N’s eyes followed him as he nodded to the healer and the guard that stood behind her.

Before she could even blink, she felt a pair of strong hands hold the sides of her face secure. Nevertheless, Y/N tried to shrink away from what she knew was coming. The more she tried to shie away, the firmer the hands held her.

As the healer stopped mere inches from her face, Y/N tried one last time. This time speaking to the healer. “Please don’t do this. I’m not lying, I swear.” She couldn’t help the tears that broke free.

The healer, a young woman smiled sadly. “I am truly sorry My Lady. Please know, that I take no pleasure in what I am about to do.”

Y/N’s heart rate steadily increased as she watched the healer thread the needle. Swallowing hard, she took a deep shuddering breath before calling his name in utter desperation and fear. “LOKI! LOKI, HELP ME!” Her cries resulted in the three guards holding her tighter.

Y/N continued to call for him until the needle pierced her skin. Her calls for help morphed into screams and cries of pure agony.

~ ~ ~

The peaceful realm of reading was shattered by the faint sound of his name. Looking up from his book, Loki looked around the library but saw that he was alone. Convinced he had imagined it, the Prince returned to his reading. A distant scream made him look up a second time. Narrowing his eyes, Loki placed the book beside him and stood up. Walking to one of the library’s numerous windows, he looked out to see what had caused the scream but could see nothing unusual.

Huffing in annoyance at being interrupted a second time, Loki made his way back to where he had left his book when a sharp pain lanced through his head. Stumbling from the suddenness of the assault, he shakily leaned on one of the tables and gritted his teeth when the pain hit again, more vicious the second time.

This was how Thor found him. A sharp series of knocks announced his presence.

“What?” Loki spoke sharply, the pain in his head had not yet faded.

“Brother?” Thor stepped into the palace library and his eyes widened when he found his young sibling leaning against one the library’s low tables.

“What do you want?” Pushing himself away from the table, Loki faced his brother, his teeth clenched against the pain.

“Have you had news of Y/N?”

Just the mention of her seemed to calm him down. Shaking his head, Loki met his brother’s blue gaze. “I have not. But I expect a raven from her this evening.”

He was under the impression that Y/N had left Asgard to visit family in Vanaheim.

“Are you alright brother?” Thor did not miss his brother’s paler-than-normal complexion and his clenched jaw.

“Nothing but a bothersome headache.” Brushing past him, Loki headed to where he had left his book.

“Brother, there is something you should know.”

“What might that be?” Ignoring the splitting agony, Loki tried to focus on his book.

“Y/N never made it out of Asgard.”

Loki froze and slowly turned to look at the blond Prince. “What?” His voice was low and dangerous. “What happened?”

“She was arrested just as she reached the Bifrost.”

“Arrested?” Loki wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “For what exactly? Y/N couldn’t hurt the smallest insect, let alone do something that would warrant arrest.”

Thor paused before answering. “I was not made privy to that information.”

“How convenient,” Loki sneered, his features contorting. “If anything happens to her, so help the one that is responsible.” Pushing himself up from where he was sitting, he stalked towards the library doors.

“Where are you going brother?”

Pausing for a split second, Loki turned to look at him. “I won’t let anything happen to her Thor. Whatever she is being accused of, she is innocent. I was never worthy of her, brother, but if I do nothing, I will be even less so.” With those words, he opened the double doors and stepped out into the hallway beyond. 

~ ~ ~

There was no need for the guards to hold her down anymore. The pain had paralysed her. Now she lay on the cold marble, the blood from her injuries dripping onto the stone beneath her.

Even if she wanted to move, Y/N couldn’t. Her mouth throbbed and pulsed and a dull pain accompanied every breath she dared to take. She knew how she must have appeared, but she did not have the strength or will to care.

“Get her on her feet,” the Allfather’s voice made her flinch.

When Y/N felt the guards pull her to her feet, she simply let them. Her chains helped them. Y/N felt like a puppet, being forced to move to another’s will.

“Hasn’t she suffered enough ?” the Queen’s gentle tone was music to Y/N’s ears. “Let her be, I beg you.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do so,” Odin was an unsympathetic as ever. “ I cannot allow my dispensation of justice to lapse, even for someone like her.”

“Think of your son, think of Loki,” Frigga begged, “think of what will this do to him.”

Odin paused and Y/N hardly dared to hope. “I am sorry.” Never had Y/N hated those three words more.

Weakly looking over her shoulder, Y/N glanced at the Queen. She hoped her eyes conveyed just how grateful she was, that at least someone was on her side.

Frigga met Y/N’s gaze and swallowed hard. How was she going to tell her son this? The young woman’s eyes seemed to smile at her, and a sense of gratitude flowed from her. Gratitude for what, Frigga knew she would never find out.

“Come along Milady,” the guards pulled her along and she let them. Her body seemed to be on autopilot.

~ ~ ~

Bursting into the throne room, Loki found only his mother. She was standing by the foot of the throne, the afternoon sun casting her shadow across the throne behind her.

“Mother?” His tone was gentle yet urgent. Approaching her, he stopped a short distance from her.

“I’m so sorry Loki,” Frigga looked at her son with only grief in her eyes.

“I don’t understand Mother,” Loki cocked his head to the side. “Sorry for what?”

“I know what she meant to you.”

Those words seemed to jolt his memory. “Mother. Where is she? Where is Y/N?”

“If you hurry, you may be able to save her.”

“Save her? Save her from what?” Loki hoped and prayed fervently that he was wrong. Odin wouldn’t dare!

“Her execution.”

His mother’s words made him see red. “Father wants her dead?!”

Frigga nodded, “I tried to dissuade him Loki, but he would not see reason.”

“How long does she have?” Loki sounded desperate.

“Not long.”

Nodding frantically, the younger Prince bolted from the throne room, followed closely by his brother.

~ ~ ~

The sound of the crowd was almost deafening. For once, Y/N was grateful for the guards that surrounded her. Her legs shook however, as she was all but pulled up the steps of the scaffold.

Her e/c eyes scanned the crowd and was both relieved and confused when she could not find the face she so desperately sought. She barely registered it when the Allfather silenced the crowd and began to speak. The feeling of thick rope around her neck was the only thing she really noticed and paid any attention to, knowing it would be the last thing she would ever touch.

Loki ran as he had never run before. Fueled by anger, fear and utter desperation, he wove his way through the palace’s numerous hallways until at last he broke through the main entrance.

Knowing that the Allfather liked to make executions public, he knew exactly where to go. Within in moments, his green eyes had found the crowd he was looking for.

With Thor hot on his heels, Loki headed for the crowd. To his annoyance and dismay, the crowd was huge.

The sound of the King’s voice drew his attention to the front of the crowd. He heard not a word the Allfather spoke, his eyes had at last found who he had been looking for. “Y/N” he whispered her name in shock as his eyes traveled to her mouth. Fueled by adrenaline and a seething fury, he pushed through the crowd and no one dared stand in his way.

Closing her eyes, Y/N braced herself for the inevitable. But the pain of having her neck broken never came. Instead, she heard the sound of someone having their bones broken. Hesitantly opening her eyes, Y/N saw a pair of emerald eyes stare back at her.

Not being able to speak, she raised her shackled hands and gently touched his face.

“Oh Y/N,” Loki whispered her name and she swore that she saw tears in his eyes.

“What is the meaning of this? Loki?” Odin’s calm, yet furious voice tore the Prince’s attention away from her.

“Funny,” Loki looked anything but amused. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“I will not have my authority questioned.” Odin moved until he was towering over both Loki and Y/N, the latter flinched and seemed to cower.

“You wanted her dead?” Loki’s words dripped with disbelief and thinly veiled fury.

“It is what she deserved.”

Loki’s green eyes widened. Had he just heard correctly? “What did you just say?” His voice had gone a little quieter. “I will not let you hurt her, let alone take her life!”

“You will pay for this insolence,” Odin threatened before turning to the guards that surrounded the scaffold. “Guards! Escort my son to the dungeons.”

Despite her injuries, Y/N placed herself between Loki and the gathering guards and vehemently shook her head and held her hands up in a pleading manner.

A gentle touch on her shoulder made her turn around. Her e/c eyes met his emerald ones. “Y/N?” The way he said her name made her forget where she was.

In answer, she nodded slightly.

“I know you did not do what you are accused of.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the smile and instantly clenched her jaw as a wave of pain crashed into her. Looking down, she hoped he would not see the agony in her eyes.

“Please look at me.”

Y/N shook her head and refused to look up.

“Y/N please.” The desperate pleading was not a tone of his she was used to or had ever heard.

Finally looking up, she tried to back away but he was too quick. Loki took both her hands and gently pulled her towards him and not caring who saw them, he leaned forward and gently kissed her sealed mouth.

Y/N leaned into him and when his mouth left hers, she felt the shackles fall from her wrists. When she looked at him in confusion, he winked.

“Enough of this.” The Allfather’s voice broke through the bubble they had created and despite her silent protests, guards soon surrounded the raven-haired Prince. She looked on in horror as the shackles locked themselves around his slender wrists.

~ ~ ~

The memory of Y/N’s face, though horribly disfigured, was Loki’s only source of sanity. He had been denied any visitors. His cell was positioned a good distance away from the others. Many times, he would create illusions of her to keep him company and he often found himself talking with her.

What became of her, he could only imagine. If Odin had gone through with the execution after his arrest and she was indeed dead, then he wished with all his heart that her spirit would haunt him and remind of what she looked like before.

“You were an angel, fit to spend your days in the heavens,” Loki spoke to one of the illusions. “But in my selfishness, I tore you down, as only a devil such as I could. At least now,” he stopped to take a deep breath and felt it shudder in his chest. “You are back where you belong, up there among the purest of the pure and I am where I belong, down here with the damned. For there is nothing more shameful that failing to protect the one you love.”

Tags: @alien-lover20

[ohkimani]

my heart as of now.

my amazing best friends understand my need for space. like the cat i am, being unbothered is usually best for me. but they show their affection in the most amazing ways and i never go a day without reminding them all how grateful i am to them for being in my life. 

we enjoy watching each other grow in every way, like the daisies we are, and discover our strengths. we feel everything just like anyone in their 20′s should. we drink too much wine, trust the wrong people and laugh at the wrong parts of jokes sometimes. every thread used to stitch us together is another story of mayhem and, if we tell it, ‘the funniest shit ever’.

my beautiful mother. her soft voice of reason on the other end of the line, my lifeline most days. sternness in her name, karen, and in her will to make me understand that things will not always be okay but they will get better. passionate in her teachings of loving all but not at the risk of losing myself. she will always be my lighthouse.

and taylor, the sister i never had (nor asked for tbh) but somehow low key got anyway. i think i say enough about my appreciation for her in my life on a daily basis.

all of these amazing people i find myself smothered in love by some days, in the best way, are the threads that keep me together. like any normal person, i have had my loose threads which obviously have had to be snipped and trimmed to keep myself from getting caught on things. but with these beautiful strings that have laced together my better and stronger parts, i walk light footed through my worst days.

however, as of late, i have had to personally deal with the only human being i have ever legitimately grown a toxic disdain for. and i live with her. this isnt something that has just suddenly happened over night, this pure hatred for her has seeped in through the cracks i have yet to fill in my soul. i reached my wit’s end  with her recently when i wanted to enjoy the release of ‘call it what you want’ in my living with my other roommates, before politely asking “do y’all mind if i play this out loud for a second” to which ‘go ahead’ was the general consensus. 

throughout the entire song, she not only decided she wanted to talk over it but continuously remind me how much she does not like taylor or her music. this is something she does a lot but hasnt done in a while, which was why i was so frustrated with the sudden need for her to express these feelings once again. she continued on her rant until i finally paused the song, looked her in the eye and asked her “who fucking cares what you think?” 

im not an aggressive person but after just about two years of having to deal with everything she has done to make me angry, cause my best friend to have a mental breakdown and subsequently move out for the sake of her well being, and send her own roommate(s) crying to me about how unbearable she is, i had lost it. 

i raised my voice, which i never do. i ripped into the core of her being with every word until she cried. even when she was crying i continued to batter every part of her character. the seething words that left my lips were so unlike me, i had to make an urgent appointment with my therapist because i was worried about the person i became when she sent me over the edge like that. it was concerning.

it has been almost three weeks now since that night and after it happened, i removed and blocked her on every form of social media....even email. after discovering i had blocked her on instagram, she texted my other roommate who i was having lunch with at the time and said “i dont know how you can be friends with that dumb bitch” these words still ring in my head. with that, i decided it was time i finally spoke to her calmly about that night. the conversation pretty much consisted of her telling me she was hurt by me yelling at her and me saying everything i said to her that night, with a quieter voice.

i sat down with her and had an entire bullet pointed list of things that i have had to say and would clearly express to her. i told her, to her face, as calmly as possible “for you to make me angry enough to purposely want to hurt you....for you to hurt me and the people i love enough for me to want to make you cry, you have to be an awful person. never in my life have i experienced the rage your entire being makes me feel”

she cried again. but this time, behind my back, she has continued to try to isolate me in my own home. she has turned one of my roommates against me, telling her im some crazy unstable bitch and has tried to do so with the only other person i used to feel safe enough to even look at here. 

i was having an amazing time with my friends today, watching them work out at practice and finally introducing myself to the new coaching staff when the sudden realization that i would have to come home and rest my head in a place where i feel so despised, misunderstood and demonized made me break down inconsolably in front of my friends. the thought of walking into a space i dont feel im welcome in, where i am supposed to live for so many more months is so horrifying that the anxiety has brought me to tears every day for the last two weeks but today being the worst. i am not in a good place physically. not in the slightest.

im so grateful for my friends offering to let me kick it at their apartments until as late as i need to because even though they dont understand how i feel, they know that for me to react that way to anyone must mean they arent decent in the slightest. 

i spent the majority of the afternoon and evening at different places and my best friend walked me all the way into my room so i didnt feel too on edge coming home by myself. i hate it here so much. i hate it with my entire being. this girl is so terrible in every sense of the word and i know im not crazy. im not insane. im not unstable. i have never been in a better place mentally and emotionally in all my life. the horrible things she has said about me to other people i live with attribute to my shunning is so painful and i have no idea how im going to survive this situation. i dont know if it’s going to get better. i dont know how much worse it’s going to get in the future. she doesnt deserve to ruin my peace of mind and she so dense and i cant force awareness on the incompetent. 

i am not okay but everything else in my life is fantastic and i could never be more grateful for the beauty that is the relationships i have with people who have never made me feel this way. 

[sheikah]

The pro-Daenerys and pro-Sansa meta no one asked for.

So I felt compelled to write this in response to the growing ugliness between the Jonerys and Jonsa fandoms. It’s something that puzzles me and makes me sad. It’s no secret to anyone that I am a Jonerys shipper, but that doesn’t mean I dislike Sansa as a character or hate the Jonsa ship in general. What does bother me, though, is the constant bickering over which will be canon, and the constant attacks from each side aimed at the female protagonists in an attempt to devalue the opposing ship. 

I don’t understand these attacks and to me they just perpetuate the damaging tradition of female competition over a man. I realize all of this is fictional, but in most cases of the Jonerys/Jonsa feud I see people tearing down Dany or Sansa in order to legitimize the ship in question by saying that Jon could only be with Dany because Sansa is weak or only be with Sansa because Dany is evil, etc. What’s worse, I stumble upon a lot of fics where the main conflict is a love triangle in which usually Dany but sometimes Sansa becomes a villain character. Think about this for a second. A complex, interesting, multi-layered female character who is not canonically a villain in either case being used as a mere obstacle to a romantic ship, thereby creating a love triangle and feminine competition that doesn’t--and probably won’t--canonically exist. Maybe it’s the feminist in me screaming, but that makes me so, so sad.  Now, fic writers can and should write whatever they want, and I am actually a huge fan of the love triangle trope. But in this case, it is being fabricated out of thin air and the end result is a lot of hate thrown at these women because of imagined scenarios in which they fight over Jon Snow.  So now that I have given you this lengthy preamble, here’s a post about why, as far as I’m concerned, that would never happen--because Dany and Sansa are actually very similar. I believe that both women are confident by this point of the series and would not chase a man who is divided in his feelings for them and, in my opinion, they would actually be great friends.

1. Dany loves and protects women.

I feel like the idea of Dany fighting Sansa for Jon’s affection goes fundamentally against her character. 

Dany would not try to destroy another woman’s happiness that way. We have seen her defend other women and display a special concern for women on several occasions. 

In season 1, Dany used her power and influence to save the women in the shepherd village from rape at the hands of the Dothraki. We all know how this turned out, but it is the first instance of her trying to stand up for women and establish them as something more than property in Dothraki culture. 

In season 3, Dany makes it a point to save Missandei from Master Kraznys and take her into her care. This is not something she needed to do. She doesn’t need a translator and was easily able to take the Unsullied without Missandei’s assistance or friendship. But she saw how Missandei was mistreated and wanted the opportunity to give her a better life. The famous line, “But we are not men,” just further illustrates Dany’s awareness of the plight of women in this culture and her desire to fix that. 

In season 6, when Dany is held captive by the Dothraki horde and has been placed with the Dosh Khaleen, she is kind to the young, widowed khaleesi who brings her outside the tent, understanding and sympathizing with her situation. 

But these women seem to love their chains--they feel the Dosh Khaleen is not a terrible situation to be in. They are an obstacle to Dany’s freedom but she understands their reluctance to question their status and doesn’t view them as her enemies. She liberates them, only burning the khal’s men who sought to harm her.

Finally, at the end of season 6, Dany forms an alliance with Yara Greyjoy, knowingly and willingly establishing another woman as leader of the Iron Islands. While a woman like Cersei sees other queens as dangerous competition, Dany seeks to aid, protect, and elevate other women. 

We have no reason to assume that she would treat Sansa Stark any differently, and (as I will argue below) their similarities would probably lead to a meaningful friendship if they spent enough time together. 

2. Sansa craves (and deserves) friendship.

Sansa’s character has changed noticeably through the course of the series. I would argue that the only person to change more is Jaime Lannister. When we first meet Sansa she is selfish and a little rude. But I can’t fault her for this--she’s a teenage girl, and one who starts the series in a place of considerable privilege. 

But when that is taken away from her, Sansa becomes noticeably kinder and more understanding of other people. While she used to be annoyed by and somewhat mean to Arya, the loss of her little sister seems to affect Sansa and she misses that companionship. 

She first tries to replace it with Margaery Tyrell, who seems to care genuinely for Sansa’s wellbeing--something Sansa isn’t used to at court, where everyone has questionable motives and hidden agendas. Sansa and Margaery’s friendship was sweet and offered us a glimpse of a happy, grateful young girl who was giddy at the prospect of marrying Loras Tyrell and eager to develop a closer friendship with Margaery. 

Again, as we all know, that doesn’t exactly go according to plan, and Sansa’s next option is Shae. While Shae is only her handmaiden, Sansa seems to trust her and is thankful for her support in moments like the one when Sansa starts her period and tries desperately to hide it from Cersei. She doesn’t have a mother to talk to or a sister or any close friends, so she relies on Shae to help her. In this moment, Shae does. Shae tries to protect Sansa and even tells Tyrion that she loves the younger girl. 

But jealousy sours this relationship when Shae believes that Tyrion actually wanted his marriage to Sansa, causing so much trouble that Tyrion is forced to remove Shae from Sansa’s service, leaving her alone again. 

After that happens, Sansa is left with no one but Tyrion himself, and after Joffrey’s death her only ally is Petyr. He cannot fulfill the role of friend and confidant because their relationship is very sexually-charged and he clearly sees Sansa as a younger, lovelier version of Cat--his lost love. Yet Petyr throws her into the Bolton’s clutches where it becomes immediately apparent that Sansa’s only friends are the rugged Northerners. But Ramsay puts a stop to that very quickly when he flays the woman who tries to help Sansa, and with no one but the Boltons themselves, Theon as Reek, and Myranda, Sansa is alone again. 

Sansa has almost given up on finding someone who can truly be her friend, as evidenced by her very well-placed distrust of Myranda from the beginning. 

This is why Sansa is so willing to forgive Theon and to accept Brienne’s service the second time--because she has realized how lonely and desperate she is for a companion, someone to trust. 

At the end of the day, Sansa is like a lot of us. A girl who fantasized about a beautiful life and grew up to realize it hardly works out that way for anyone. This experience hardened her. She is stronger and smarter than ever before but she isn’t heartless and still needs other people in her life. So I feel like meeting a woman like Dany wouldn’t arouse territorial feelings of jealousy in Sansa, who we already know doesn’t want to take the Iron Throne. Instead, she would see a kindred spirit--a woman who has also suffered, been used by men, lost everything, but emerged victorious and strong. 

3. Dany and Sansa have a lot in common. 

Although they lived very different lives and followed very different paths, Dany and Sansa have a lot of similarities that make both women such interesting and enjoyable characters to watch and read about. 

Both women have had, at one point or another, magical creatures: Dany’s dragons and Sansa with Lady the direwolf.

Both women have lost their parents. Both women have lost two brothers. 

Both women have been raped, if we are going by the show!universe. Dany was raped on her wedding night by the khal. Sansa was raped on her wedding night by Ramsay.

Both women entered into marriage arrangements to advance themselves politically so that they might avenge their families and take back their rightful homes. Dany, at Viserys’s behest, married Drogo for his army so that she might overthrow Robert Baratheon and take back her kingdom. Sansa married Ramsay at Petyr’s behest so that she might ingratiate herself to Ramsay and eventually take Winterfell for herself.

Both women have vengeful streaks, and it’s badass. Dany and Sansa aren’t murderous villains, but they recognize the necessity of violence as a means to an end and as a tool of vengeance. Dany’s burning of the slavers’ fleet was one of the most intense moments in the entire series and I will never forget it. It was also amazing when Sansa had Ramsay killed by his own hounds in an epic display of poetic justice.

Both women are still softhearted and loving despite their many hardships. We can still see love and compassion in Dany’s treatment of her friends and her dragons. I especially liked her gesture of giving Tyrion the Hand of the Queen pin, and her decision to forgive Jorah and urge him to save himself. Sansa displayed similar kindness in her gesture of sewing Stark clothing for Jon to symbolize his true status as a member of her family. 

4. Their friendship would be mutually beneficial, and also really sweet ^.^

Last but not least, here are my cheesy ass headcanons about what would happen if these two spent a significant amount of time together at King’s Landing or Winterfell, and became friends. 

--Dany seeing snow for the first time, and Sansa--who is apparently the Westeros Champion Snow Castle Architect--showing her how to sculpt things in it. 

--Sansa showing Dany how to wear her hair with more of it down in the Northern style, and Dany fixing Sansa’s hair in intricate braids. 

--Dany giving Sansa advice about men and sex, since poor Sansa has not had a positive sexual experience yet. 

--Sansa being a welcome and valued member of Dany’s council meetings, because Sansa’s time at court is a valuable asset and Dany recognizes that. 

--Both of them swapping funny but totally endearing stories about what it is like to live with Tyrion, the hilarious wino. Tyrion being super uncomfortable that his two favorite gals are always walking around arm-in-arm giggling and whispering conspiratorially in his direction. 

--Both of them being girl power af and disrupting the fuck out of the patriarchy by making the most important decisions and strategizing like a couple of bosses.

--Trying to borrow each other’s clothes, but Sansa’s are hilariously big for Dany because of the height difference, and Dany’s dresses show even more skin on Sansa and are totally impractical in the Northern climate. So Sansa, expert seamstress extraordinaire, sews Dany some nice furs. 

--Both women being important parts of Jon’s life, and vice versa, and all of them working together to leave the world better than they found it because that is literally like Dany’s motto now.  

Wow, okay, so if you read all of that, thanks for being interested in my ramblings. Hopefully I convinced someone that we should all love each other and be friends lol. I know none of those headcanons will happen because there is no time for people to be cute and friendly with a war happening and everything. But a girl can dream.

P.S. My super-smart bff @oadara expressed interest in my ideas on this, so I’m tagging her now :D