#if so his portrait had better not start talking to me if i ever see it in person ;)

[my-castles-crumbling]

warn - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 349

"Lupin!"

Startled, Remus looked up from his work to see Amelia Moore, a seventh-year in his advanced study group, making her way toward him. "Yes?" he asked politely. They weren't close, but they got on well enough.

"Listen," she said softly with the sombre air of delivering terrible news. "You like Black, right? Like...like, like?"

Blushing deeply, Remus blinked and stuttered, trying to decide whether or not to deny it. Was he that obvious?

"Well, I know you do," Amelia cut him off, waving her hand as if to wave off the question. "The point is, I'm here to warn you."

"Warn me?" he asked, deeply confused now.

"Yes, I just...I heard a rumor. It might not be true, but...you're such a nice, sweet, clever guy, and I just think you deserve better," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Stomach sinking, Remus tilted his head to the side, waiting. Who was Sirius dating now?

"I heard from my friend in Slytherin that Potter and Black have been running around snogging in broom cupboards," Amelia continued quickly, eyeing him for a reaction.

Remus thought about that for a moment, completely stunned. "Thanks, Amelia," he muttered. He had to get somewhere to think.

"Sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I know all of you are close," she chirped. "But if you're ever free-"

"Right, yeah," He cut her off and stood to leave. Before he knew it, he found himself walking toward the Common Room.

Sirius and James? That was impossible. They were close, yes. Closer than close. Obnoxious in the way they were literal soul mates. But they were also deeply platonic. Remus had never questioned that. Even when he questioned everything else.

So why was James rumored to be kissing Sirius in broom cupboards? Unless...

"Holy fuck!" he gasped in the middle of the corridor, ignoring the looks of indignation from nearby portraits.

Sirius wasn't the only person with the surname 'Black' at Hogwarts.

Turning on the spot, Remus started heading to the dungeons. He had to have a talk with Regulus Black.

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (27) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you reach your final straw. 

word count: 1,314

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: angst city™, reader is very very stubborn, not proofread

Coriolanus had begun sending you flowers. White roses overtook your room. It was practically a garden itself with how many he had sent you. It might have been a sweet gesture. Once. You knew how precious his roses were to him. When his family was in utter ruin, those roses were the only thing they still had from their days of wealth. Even now, when Coriolanus was King, he kept perhaps hundreds of rose bushes on the palace’s property. Every vase was full of roses. Every portrait commissioned during his reign featured roses. You weren’t sure, in your short time here, if you had ever seen a different kind of flower. 

Now, you just wanted to throw every vase he sent you against the wall. 

Did he think that you would forgive him if he sent you flowers? Did he think that absolved him for the way he treated you? Coriolanus had spouted on and on about how much he adored you, how he trusted you. But the moment you told him you were pregnant, it felt like he was beginning to regard you the way other husbands regarded their wives. An object, something to order around and obey without question. If Coriolanus thought he could tell you how and how not to behave, he was sorely mistaken. And certainly didn’t truly believe you were as much of a Queen to his King as he led you to think. 

So, you started having the bouquets directed to another bedchamber and ordered those who were tasked with delivering them to you to inform Coriolanus you had received them. If Coriolanus was going to disrespect your birthing choices, you were going to disrespect his presents. 

Knock! Knock!

The butler who brought your daily books slipped into the room. He crossed over to your vanity and removed the books from the silver tray. He turned, and you expected to leave. Instead, he stared at you and cleared his throat. 

“His Majesty requests your presence at dinner this evening,” he said. 

“Tell His Majesty he can kiss my ass.”

The butler sputtered, his eyes going wide. “Your Majesty!”

“His Majesty does not get to demand my presence when my very lack of presence has been caused by him. If he wishes for me to be there, then he can do better than sending me bouquet after ridiculous bouquet of these damned roses. He could talk to me himself. He could make amends.” You took a breath. “You can tell His Majesty that I will be leaving for the cottage in two days time.”

It was early than you planned. Far earlier. You had barely reached your sixth month, but you could not stand being in this palace for a second longer.

“Inform the physician as well, if you will.”

The butler’s eyes darted to the door. He must be eager to escape. Though you had little interaction with the staff over these past few weeks, you knew they were all on edge. They had been accustomed to the sickeningly sweet displays of affection. For it to be so cold now…Surely they were waiting for a fight that would be worse than any war. Perhaps they might see that fight tonight. You weren’t sure it would happen, though. Coriolanus had not done a damned thing since you moved out of your once-shared chambers. Why would he do anything now. 

He nodded then slipped out the door. It click’d shut. You fell back on the settee, hand cradling your growing bump. As your eyes fell shut, you heard mumbling on the other side of the door. Curious, you walked closer to it, pressed your ear against the door. 

“I apologize, but the Queen is insistent that she leaves soon,” the butler said.  

Who was he talking to? He surely couldn’t be—

“Find reason then to delay her,” Coriolanus said. It sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. 

Rage flared in your chest. What right did he have to be upset? This was all of his own design. And how dare he be here! How many days has he stood outside your door, never saying a damned word! Was he not going to do anything to fix this? Was he just waiting for the day for you to give up and pretend that everything was fine? 

You reached for the door and jerked it open. The butler jumped. Coriolanus looked at you, his pale blue eyes going wide. 

“P—”

“I have changed my mind,” you said. Your voice was tight as you were trying to control the tears that began to well up. Coriolanus took a breath, his eyes turning hopeful. “I leave tonight. Don’t you dare follow.”

It was not a fight worse than any war, but Coriolanus looked like you had stabbed him in the heart anyways. Good. 

Maybe he would finally hurt as much as you. 

Dear Sejanus,

I have left the palace. Please do not direct any further corresponded there. For the foreseeable future, I will be residing in the Snow family cottage. We shall not be calling it that anymore, however. I do not care what we call it, but I do not wish to be tied to the Snow at the present moment. While I am glad that I did not run away with you, I do wonder if I should have fought harder against marrying Snow. In the beginning, all was right. It felt like a good choice, as though he were a true Prince Charming. Since I came to be with child, Snow has become worse than the man he was before we wed. I do not know who he is anymore. 

Enough of me. How are you? Were you able to pass your medic test? 

Dearest Sejanus, 

My physician has told me of a way to tell if my child shall be a boy or a girl. Truthfully, I think it’s all an old wive’s tale. Perhaps that is because the “test” seemed inconclusive based on how the physician explained it. He is, however, insistent that I shall be having a boy. I told him he could save those declarations for men like Snow. I hope I don’t have a boy. I want a girl who I can teach to stand up for herself. To never allow a man to think she’s unworthy of anything. That might be wishful thinking.

Life is Thorn’s Grove is beginning to become lonely. There is nothing here for miles and miles, save for a Peacekeeper base. The only people I see are the staff, and I can hardly call them friends. I have tried to initiate conversations with them, but they seem so terrified of saying the wrong thing that it goes nowhere. I wish you could be here. Conversation always flowed easily with you. And it might just infuriate Snow if he found out. Kill two birds with one stone.

I’m so pleased that you passed your test! Will you be remaining at the same base or shall you be going elsewhere? 

Sej, 

I have been ordered to bedrest. There was a scare the other day. Nothing to worry about, if I should say so. The physician is being overly cautious. I think he is worried that Snow would have his head if something were to happen to me. Regardless, as I said, it is nothing of concern. I became lightheaded while going down the stairs and nearly fell. I didn’t, of course, yet the physician acts as though I am on the verge of fainting any time I go farther than my chambers. It seems I have traded one prison for another. 

I cannot believe you are at the very base that is so close to Thorn’s Grove! When my child is born, you should come to visit. Snow will be displeased, but he has not even attempted to come here since I left the palace. I doubt he will ever come.

It would be nice to see you again. 

I miss my Coryo.

[vampirenigh]

i hope this isnt weird or too specific--- (ignore this if u dont wanna do it!!)

i was hoping you could write about ciel and alois (blck btlr) with a very dreamy s/o? like, dreamy in so many aspects. like they look like they jumped out of a painting in a museum, or they could look identical to some figures they've seen in paintings. and their voice would be very calming too, quiet but clear iygwim.... like s/o is basically angelic and all that and their presence feels surreal to the boys

gn! reader if that's fine:DD

You are my everything

Hey. No problem at all. It's totally fine and thank you for your ask. I like when people send me specific asks because it helps me understand better and not mess up. At first I didn't understand what you meant by dreamy but because of your explication I think I got it. I will try to do gn but I never tried so if something is not right don't hesitate to tell me. And if you have any more ideas don't hesitate to send an ask.😁

Summary: Ciel and Alois whit a dreamy reader.

Characters: Ciel Phantomhive, Alois Trancy.

Warnings: gn!reader, some posesiveness in Alois?

Masterlist

Ciel Phantomhive

He first saw you in town. He was with Sebastian to take some things and investigate a new case given by the queen. But the care was totally forgotten when he saw you. You were the most beautiful person he has ever seen. He knew that you are from an aristocratic family from your clothes and your maid but didn't know which one.

So he puts Sebastian to do some research on you and he learns that you were Elisabeth's cousin. He couldn't believe it. Even more when he first talked to you at Elisabeth's birthday party. You were just so calm and welcoming that he felt safe in your presence. Your quiet but clear voice made him feel like he could tell you everything and you wouldn't judge him.

And because of that he broke the engagement with Lizzy and started to court you. Elizabeth's mother was a bit mad but couldn't stop Ciel because he loves him as her own son and he deserves to have happy memories.

So you two start to date after some time whit a new engagement made between Ciel's family and your's. He started to call you often at his mansion and talk to you. He could've sworn that you were an angel from heaven when you first comforted him after he had a nightmare and you stayed at his mansion overnight. You were so gentle with him like he was made of glass and would break at the slightest touch. It was such a different feeling that he felt he doesn't deserve it.

All this time he thought that the only thing that counts is to revenge his family and to reestablish his family name but now he starts to doubt it. The only thing that he can think of is that he doesn't want to lose you ever like he lost everyone else. He will protect you whit his life and will make sure that you are always comfortable.

God forgive anyone that hurts or embarrasses you because Sebastian will take care of him.

Ciel would often come to you to talk about what is bothering him and would be grateful for who you are that he sends you different dresses and jewelry that he knows will look good on you.

In conclusion he will love and cherish you till the day he dies and will always be grateful for your presence even in the darkest times.

Alois Trancy

He saw you in a museum in the art section. He couldn't believe how much you looked alike whit a portrait of a very beautiful women that lived over 200 years ago. He couldn't take his eyes of you so he made a move. He came to you and introduced himself in the hope that you will see him as fascinating as he sees you. And you did. You introduced yourself and engaged in a conversation whit Alois.

Your voice and your looks made him not want to leave you alone at all. He feelt like he is talking to an angel who came to safe him. He learned that you are the grand grand granddaughter of the woman in the painting and that she was one of the most beautiful women that lived in that time and that you are happy that you could resemble her.

He started to court you and made the engagement whit your parents. He asks Hannah some things that you would like and if you don't he will punish her severely.

He will eventually tell you everything about his past and about Claude. He feels so safe with you that he couldn't bring himself to hide it. And the moment when you just tell him that it doesn't matter, it doesn't define him he swore he could die right then and there as a happy boy.

He would tell Claude to protect you and to kill anyone who comes too close to you whit bad intentions.

He would be very clingy. He doesn't like being away from you. He feels like you are his lifeline and can't leave you.

Do you remember the time when Alois was on his knees in front of Claude to prevent him of leaving? He would do that when you wanted to go have some tea time whit another girl. (What can I say he has abandonament issues.)

He feels that he is the luckiest boy on the planet because he can have such a beautiful and calm lover who sees him for who he is and not for his money.

[feelingthedisaster]

so, me and my mom's bonding activity is to watch shows together, so this means i get to hear her live commentary and opinions. i made a list of my favourites

(disclaimer: this doesnt mean i agree/support what she said)

she talked about jared padalacki and jensen ackles's hotness through supernatural, but not like who's hotter or aged like wine/aged badly, she talked about it in an analytical sense: how the producers used their physical attributes for views and how it changed their portrait as the fans reacted/the actores aged (she says sam started as the 'pretty boy' of the show but as it progressed it stopped)

she insists the actor of eddie was going through some health issues during the filming of season six of 911. her reasoning is that they didnt show his abs as much as they did in the previus seasons so they were covering something up (yep, she went "im not seeing my regular order of firefighter abs, something is wrong")

on the same lane, she also says he got better bc they did show his abs more in season 7

"is this by netflix, right? the intros are all the same"

she diagnosed castiel with autism (she is a psychologist btw)

intense staring at me when rosa diaz came out as bi (which i obviusly ignored)

*watching the harry styles fanfiction movie* me: "dont you ever do that to me" / her: "all your faves are dead"

a lot of complains about the recycling and predictability of the plot of supernatural

an incredible awkard car conversation about lockwood's survivor guilt (we googled his backstory) as the reason of his reckless/almost suicidal actions [she clearly did not want to add to the conversation but i guess the psychologist in her had to]

spn s8, aaron flirting with dean scene "they are making dean gay, arent they?" (didnt tell her anything, there some things you gotta let them figure out on their own)

*edwin payne exists* "well, that's a repressed gay"

[context: we watch shows in english with english subtitles but we are not from a english speaking country, she learned english when she was young and i currently go to classes] me: "i dont need to study for the english test i have tomorrow, i just need to watch one more episode. in fact, tv is actively studying for the listening comphrension part" / her: "right, then im not procrastinating work, im just helping my daughter study for her test then" / "right" / "right"

[arjudy224]

Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

[josphitia]

Portrait of a Mimic

“I don't know about this…” said a young looking woman with long brown hair tied into a ponytail. She wore light wood-colored glasses, a pink shirt emblazoned with a stylish skull, and pink-striped loose fitting bottoms.

“Oh balderdash! If you're going to be working in my office then I need a proper photo of you for your ID!” shouted a balding, bespectacled man wearing simple khakis and a dark blue sweater. While his voice was raised, it was not in a malicious way. Instead his voice sounded like a man accustomed to being talked over, and thus he developed this affectation to ensure his words were heard.

“Can't you just use your phone, like EVERYONE else, Erian? I don't see why you've dragged me to a shopping mall…” she spoke. Her voice was the opposite of the man's. His was meant to be heard above a crowd, while hers sounded as if it wanted to be hidden by one.

“I could, had I no pride. Portraits are something of a hobby of mine, and like any hobbyist I have my tastes and preferences. A portrait is a special thing. It used to be said the camera stole a piece of your soul. I actually find that notion comforting. A piece of you, in that moment, forever preserved. You may grow and change, your visage changing periodically in front of a mirror, but you will always be able to look at your portrait. The camera sees the whole you.”

She didn't know what to say… This man she had a complicated (to put it lightly) relationship with seemed to always hold new surprises for her. At times he seemed as superficial and deep as a rain puddle and at other times his authenticity was inspiring. However one thought quickly flashed before her mind as she looked down:

“Wait wait why didn't you tell me I was having my photo taken before we got here?? I could have focused on making myself more presentable! I'm just in a weekend look, I don't want to look like a schlub!”

“Nonsense, that's the point! Had I told you, you might've tried to hide the real you! No this is wonderful, you look perfect, if I may say so. When our patients walk into the lobby, I want them to see a portrait of YOU, not who you THINK people would want to see.”

“Wait, lobby!? You're going to be hanging this up??”

“Ah yes that's another reason for this excursion. Have you ever tried printing and framing a cell phone picture? No no, better to have a photo taken with genuine film! None of this digital nonsense. Anyway we're here!”

To their left was a small door, squeezed between a kitchenware store and a shop selling sports apparel. She would have completely missed it had it not been pointed directly out to her. A bell jingled as her cohort opened the door and entered.

“TEDDY!” shouted a man on a simple barstool. He was a tall man, at least a foot taller than Erian, wearing jeans and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was balding on the top of his head, but still sported long hair along the sides and the back that he tied tight into a ponytail. He had a gentle face and a smile that never quite seemed to dissipate. He got up to shake the man who accompanied her.

“Alphonse, it's so good to see you!” said Erian as the two men started hitting it off with the kind of small talk that seems to always accompany old friends. It was as if she was completely forgotten about, which did allow her the convenience of getting to take in the photos along his shop’s walls. Families with fake smiles, graduates beaming with pride, excited newlyweds, all the things standard you would expect to see in a photographer's business. She even saw a picture or two of Erian’s! Her eyes then drifted to a corner that actually held some appeal to her:

Photos of people along a similar journey as hers, along with those she considered friends! There was a red, unenthused dragon whose body barely fit into the frame. A white tigress with a warm smile and tired, yet wise eyes. A sapphire scaled Lamia with a smile so innocent it seemed almost childlike. An amber colored slime she once had lunch with! As she leaned in for the closest view she could take, suddenly she heard the conversation shifting to her as its focus.

“Ah, and is this young lady one of them? Someone you're helping Teddy?”

“She'll soon be my employee, actually.”

“Partner, actually” she said in a cheeky yet firm way.

“Right, yes. Apologies. She's going to be working with me in my office! Alphonse, this is Mayday. Mayday, this is Alphonse.”

The photographer looked her up and down and spoke in a warm tone, devoid of romance but brimming with affection: “My, and aren't you just a sweetheart?”

Try as she might not to, she felt her entire face burning at that comment.

“Just the standard job, then, Teddy?” he said, turning to Erian. “Yes yes, and I'll be paying for it all, tip included.” At that, your future coworker started walking out of the store.

“Well, if you're ready?” he said, gesturing her towards the back. She followed briskly, anxiety starting to build inside her at having been left alone with this man she only just met. Professional or not, meeting new people always put her on edge, not even speaking of the fears currently swelling up inside her. She had always hated having her picture taken. She never thought she looked like “herself” in photos, but maybe now would be different? After all, nowadays she felt more like herself than she ever had.

“Just sit right here, May” the man said as he pulled a curtain closed behind her.

“It's Mayday, actually, please.”

“Alright sweetheart. Mayday it is!”

She couldn't help but smile and feel a bit warm inside at the ‘sweetheart’ nickname. Whether it was something he chose specifically for her or simply a nickname for all the feminine people he worked with, she couldn't tell. But it was still a nickname she made a mental note of.

“Now then, you're gonna be working with Teddy? You look pretty normal, are you also one of them ‘therians?’” As he spoke, he clicked a small remote as a floodlight suddenly turned on to her right side. It startled her so much a third eyeball erupted out of the side of her head to give her an additional look at the could-be hazard.

“Ah. I guess that answers my question.”

“Sorry, sorry” she said quietly. She had been gaining confidence in who she was. Pride in being a mimic. But being isolated and partaking in an activity she hated, it brought back old habits. It didn't matter how nice this man seemed… She was uncomfortable, and that always affected how well she could hold her form.

“It's absolutely no worry to me, sweetheart. Why, I've been taking many photos for these new animal people like yourself a lot lately! Guess it's not too surprising, people wanting to immortalize their new forms. Especially around this time of year! Why, I had a dragon in here a month ago and I'm still patching the ceiling where her horns busted through! Now, if I may ask, what kinda animal are you? I've never seen someone just spout an eye like that before.”

“Ah.. I'm a mimic…” While she was certain she was still holding onto her humanoid form, it felt as if the entire world was growing large around her. She didn't like being the focus of conversation.

“Mimic? I don't think I've ever seen one of them before, even at the zoo. Well, it's wonderful meeting someone of your kind!” His nonchalant acceptance was comforting, if surprising. Still, she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anything that helped make this ordeal go by any faster and smoother.

“Now, gimme a smile?”

She began to force herself to smile when-

Whirrr-CLICK-PSH

A bright light illuminated the room and frightened the poor mimic, she instinctively closed her eyes. She closed both… all three… all six… wait

At that moment she began to open her eyes and took in a 360 degree view of the room around her. She had sprouted eyes about every inch of her body… Tears started to well up in a few of them, she must've looked ridiculous, this man would soon start screaming and kick her out and and and

“Oh, oh my. Okay. I'm sorry sweetheart I guess I should've warned you.”

All her eyes turned towards the man, still illuminating the room like a gentle sunbeam with that soft smile of his. “Now now, please don't cry! You're fine! I don't think any decent photographer has gotten the right picture on the first try! It's just you and me here and I'm not going anywhere. Let me know when you're ready for the next one.”

After a minute or two of composing herself, one by one her eyes receding into herself, she nodded. An affirmation that she was ready.

“Alright, now try to keep your eyes open this time. And…”

Whirrr-CLICK-PSH

Again a flash from the camera and try as she might, it still startled her. She didn't sprout eyes this time, however she did sprout large purple spikes in every direction.

“I think someone might be on edge” he said with a laughing tone. “I'm in no rush Mayday. Take as much time to relax yourself.”

She did as he instructed. She imagined a soft running river, gently streaming over rocks and foliage.

Whirrr-CLICK-PSH

“Ah… perhaps a bit too relaxed, then…”

She had relaxed herself into a literal purple puddle, drooping over the wooden stool. Immediately she collected herself and assumed her humanoid form.

“Alright, try focusing on me then as I take the picture?”

She nodded and started taking in every aspect of the man. His hair, his choice of clothing, his facial wrinkles, the number of moles on his left arm, his-

Whirrr-CLICK-PSH

“Well, I think you were focusing too much on me there. No offense but that's a bit unnerving.”

Sitting opposite of the man was an almost exact replica of him, if doused in a purple hue. “Sorry!” she immediately said, shaking each part of her form until they resembled her natural look.

“No worries sweetheart. I do think we were on the right track there, that was the best photo so far. Instead of me, try thinking of another. Do you have someone special in your life?”

She did. Many people, in fact. She loved, and was loved, by the most wonderful group of creatures she had ever met. People who made her feel warm inside. Animals who always made her feel accepted. Friends who were always looking out for her and protecting her and friends she protected in turn. Companions who listened. Cohorts who made her happy. Family who completed her.

“Perfect. Now, give me a nice smile”

With thoughts and images of her loved ones dancing in her mind, Mayday did as instructed.

Whirrr-CLICK-PSH

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

“Oh this is simply perfect” said the balding man in glasses as he marveled at the frame in front of him. He started climbing a ladder, ready to hang it next to a framed photo of himself.

“I look ridiculous… why did he send you that one!? There must've been a better picture! Let me go retake it, please!” Said the feminine mimic, now adorned in more work-appropriate attire.

“Shush!” Said her coworker as he started climbing down. “I said I wanted a picture of YOU not what you think other people would want to see.”

He walked next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “This is the happiest I've ever seen you. You must have been thinking some very pleasant thoughts. This is the perfect face to greet our patients as they walk in.”

She started looking at the wall with a small sense of pride now. “Thank you, doctor. And yes. I was thinking of some very pleasant thoughts.”

Hanging in front of the two, beside the man's own, somewhat frumpy faced photo, was her. Her eyes were closed in happiness, she held a relaxed demeanor that yet brimmed with confidence. She held a wide smile that transcended the edges of her own face, with teeth that seemed to number in the hundreds. While no actual illumination glowed from her portrait, she brightened up the entire lobby. It was the most comforting smile that anyone who entered that office had ever seen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! This was a gift for my dear friend @scrubbinn for the holidays! GO READ THEIR OWN STORIES THEY'RE SO GOOD

There are also cameos of @ayviedoesthings , @tigergirltail , @ariathelamia , and @sandyca5tle

[ww2yaoi]

I was lame and didn't have anything prepared to post for WGW this week but have a little snippet...

David looks over his shoulder at Joe’s lazing form, unable to help himself from leering whenever he pops into mind. Joe’s eyes are closed, his lashes casting spindly shadows across his cheeks like inverted conifers are growing from his tear ducts. He’s shucked off his shirt and tossed it aside somewhere, the skin pulled taut over his bony sternum flushed pink from all their sunbathing. He raises his half-smoked cigarette to his lips and takes a slow, deliberate drag. David smiles to himself. It’s times like these when he wishes he were better at drawing portraits, not that Joe would ever pose for one.

It’s good to see him like this: content. After Landsberg, he’d retreated so far inward David was afraid he’d never emerge. David had never seen him so quiet. Not even in Haguenau, after the hell of Bastogne, was he that reserved. For once in his life, David knew whatever he said would be the wrong thing — because he’s always saying the wrong thing with Joe — so he had just sat with him in the days following. Sat with him in the truck, sat with him at the billet, sat with him during the meals he picked at, sat with him in the late April chill as he chain-smoked cigarette after cigarette and never so much as offered a word.

It had taken a few weeks, a tardy suicide, and the boozy bacchanal that was Berchtesgaden, but eventually Joe let David touch him again, hold him again, fuck him again. The fucking seemed to help. At least, Joe started talking more. As they had lain in bed, sweaty and spent from letting their bodies voice everything they refused to, Joe had asked David about home, and David had told him.

“You’re staring at me,” Joe says, jolting David back to the present. An opaque plume billows from his mouth. His eyes are still closed.

“No, I’m not,” David replies without averting his gaze.

“Are too, Web,” Joe shoots back, nonchalant.

David lets out a small laugh. “Yeah? How can you tell?”

Joe shrugs and puts his cigarette back in his mouth. “The violent scribbling stopped,” he mumbles around it, pinching the end with his front teeth. “What are you writing?”

“A letter.”

“To who?”

To whom, David corrects in his head. He refrains from saying it out loud; Joe would wallop him.

“My brother.”

“Which one?”

“Frank.”

Joe takes another drag. “Yeah? And how’s the South Pacific? Can he hurry shit up over there so we can end this thing and go home?”

“Wrong brother, Lieb,” David says. “And I don’t think it works that way.”

Joe merely smirks, like he made the mistake on purpose to see if David would be bothered enough to correct him. David reaches over and plucks the cigarette from Joe’s lips, fitting it between his own and puffing on it. Joe opens his eyes a crack to shoot him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t gripe, much to David’s surprise. Instead, he sits up, scooting over to sit closer to him. He peers at the piece of paper lying flat against the notebook that’s perched on David’s knee, then rests his chin on his shoulder.

“Joe,” David warns under his breath. He tilts his head towards the rowdy troop of swimmers still splashing away in the lake twenty yards away from them. “We’re not alone.”

Joe blows a raspberry. “They ain’t paying attention,” he says, blasé, too preoccupied with trying to read the letter over David’s shoulder. “What are you writing about?”

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

No Matter What - F.Weasley

Summary: Y/N is finally meeting Fred’s parents and his eldest brothers for the holidays. She’s nervous but Fred assures her that he would love her no matter what.

Word Count: 1507

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N, nervousness, Fem!Reader, non specific house, betting

Harry Potter Masterlist

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Author's Note: This is my first day of trying once again to post 25 fics leading up to Christmas! I have a few days done in advance already. I will be posting at least 2 fics per character on my masterlists. I hope you enjoy!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Y/N and Fred had been together for nearly a year. They had started dating right after New Years. For this Christmas, instead of spending the holiday at Hogwarts, Fred had invited her to the Burrow for Christmas, which she agreed to happily. However this would be the first time she had met his parents, Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Wealsley boys coming home for the holidays. She already knew George, Ginny, Ron and Percy through school but meeting the parents of the Weasley clan was something that made her nervous.

It was officially the first day of break, she was packed and ready to go, waiting by the Fat Lady’s painting for Fred and the rest of the Weasley’s, the first one to exit the portrait was George and right behind him was Fred. “You ready to go love?” Fred asked her with a bright smile on his face.

“I’m ready, let’s go boys,” She replied, matching her boyfriend’s smile. Fred was blissfully unaware of how nervous she was, he was just excited to go home to see the rest of his family, sure he had a majority of them at Hogwarts but he missed his parents dearly. He linked arms with his girlfriend who had linked arms with his twin as the three of them pranced their way to the exit of Hogwarts. 

Once they were on the train, then Fred finally took notice of how nervous his girlfriend actually was. “Why are you so nervous? I told you everyone is going to love you!”

“I know but I can’t help it. What if your mum doesn’t like me? Or your dad?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. Fred grabbed her hand and squeezed it, looking right in her eye.

“They will love you, I promise. Have I ever lied to you? Like ever?” Fred asked, she shook her head no, “So why would I lie about this? Mum and dad will love you. No question about it. George, a little backup here?” George perked up and looked right at his brother’s girlfriend, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Oh no, I entirely disagree. I think mum will claim her as her own child, another daughter. You know how much she loves having a single girl in the house, now imagine her with another girl in the house that loves her son just as much as she does,” George said, Y/N giggling slightly, the twins doing fantastic at their job to make her feel better.

“Thank you Freddie and Georgie. I appreciate it a lot.”

She was calm for the rest of the ride, the nervous feeling only returning once they flooed into the Burrow. She was right after George to get to the Burrow, Fred and the other’s right behind her. 

“My children are home! Hello my darlings! I’ve missed you!” Molly exclaimed from the kitchen, her voice getting louder until she had reached the fireplace. “You must be Y/N! Oh you are gorgeous, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Molly pulled the girl in for a hug which surprised her, she was stunned for a moment until she finally remembered to hug the woman back.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too Mrs. Weasley. Freddie wouldn’t shut up about coming home to your cooking. He always says the house elves have nothing on you,” Y/N replied.

“Oh dear, call me Molly. Mrs. Weasley makes me feel old.”

“Can I steal my girlfriend back to introduce her to dad? You’re going to suffocate her woman,” Fred joked to his mother. Molly let go of the girl before quickly apologizing.

“I’m sorry dear, Fred just hasn’t stopped talking about you, I’ve been so excited to finally meet you!”

“I’ve been so excited to meet you too!”

“Okay, love, let’s go meet my father before my mum steals you for the rest of the holiday,” Fred grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and led her to the back yard where Arthur was tinkering with some muggle objects. “Dad, this is my girlfriend Y/N, love, this is my father.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Weasley, Freddie has told me loads about you,” She said with a smile.

“He’s said loads about you too! He told me you’re a half-blood, can you tell me what it’s like to have a muggle parent?” Arthur replied.

“Dad-”

“No, it’s fine Fred, I enjoy talking about my life as a half-blood, I got the best of both worlds really. I got to experience things as a witch but also as a muggle,” She explained to the man. Arthur continued to ask the girl questions, Fred eventually leaving the two of them to talk about the muggle world so he can go catch up with his mother.

“Where’s Y/N, dear?” Molly asked her son.

“Lost her to dad. They’re talking about muggles.” Fred replied.

“I had a feeling that would happen. You’ve got a good one Fred. That’s a keeper she is.”

Fred and Molly took the time to catch up, Fred telling her about school and Molly telling him about new things that she had done while her children had been away. They took their sweet time catching up until dinner was ready, Molly tasking Fred to call in Arthur and Y/N, so he went outside where he saw the two who had just met hugging, his father treating his girlfriend as one of his own. It made Fred’s heart warm to see it.

“Mum said dinner is ready,” Fred was apprehensive to interrupt but was glad he did deep down because he could finally steal his girlfriend back. Arthur was the first to let go of the girl and happily went into the house, Y/N meeting Fred halfway so they could walk into the house together. “I see that you and dad get on well.”

“Yeah, he’s a delight Freddie! He reminds me of you a little bit. You both get very passionate when you talk about things you love or have an interest in. Your eyes light up and you can talk for days about whatever it is. You two have that in common,” She smiled as they walked towards the house.

“See, I told you, there was no reason to be nervous. I do owe George a galleon now though.”

“What? Why? What did you two bet on this time?”

“I said mum would be the one to steal you but Georgie said dad would. George was right.” The two of them laughed about the bet as they entered the house and sat at the dinner table. 

Dinner went well, the Weasley’s that didn’t know Y/N got to know her and what she had liked. She had learned some new embarrassing stories about the twins as the conversation went on. And then, Molly pulled out the photo albums much to all of the Weasley children’s dismay. Y/N, Herminone and Harry, however, thoroughly enjoyed seeing pictures of their significant others as children, it gave them perfect ammunition to use against them if needed. 

Molly stayed up with the girl for a while finally getting the time to talk to her one on one to get to know her and her intentions with dating one of her sons. Y/N assured Molly that Fred was the love of her life; that there was nothing to be worried about when they were at Hogwarts because she would be there for Fred, no matter what. Molly felt lighter hearing this but she felt even better as she went on about her other children that were attending Hogwarts as well.

“Mrs. Weasley, I promise you that I will look after and care for Ginny, George and Fred when they’re away from you. They’re my family too and I care about them a lot. They mean the world to me,” Y/N assured the woman next to her. The woman pulled the girl into a tight hug as a thank you before sending her off to bed once she realized the time. She went up to the twins’ room and climbed right into Fred’s bed where he was already half asleep.

“Have a good talk with mum?” Fred asked her sleepily.

“A really good talk. I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” She replied as she was getting under the covers with him. As soon as she was under the covers, he pulled her into his side and dropped a lazy kiss to the top of her head. 

“Night, I love you.”

“I love you too Freddie. Good night.”

She had never felt so welcomed by another family before, she already felt like she was a part of the Weasley family. She knew that the family would always hold a special place in her heart no matter what happened. Fred was happy that she was quick to become part of the family, that she was quick to care for his family. He knew that he would never let her go, no matter what.

[sunrisemill]

♡ The little things ♡

Summary: Matt has always been pressured to live up to his father and everything that he expects him to be. Y/n has always been very quiet and has been pressured by her whole family to step out of her comfort zone and live her life free from her worries. What will happen when they unexpectedly run into each other at a random ice cream shop?

(Warnings: Toxic family members (Nothing happens though dw it’s only mentioned)

Pt.2

(Matt’s POV)

“You want me to leave?! Fine then, I’m done dealing with this shit.”

I shout out across the house before slamming the front door behind me.

This is the third fight we've had this week.

Ever since my dad found out I've been ditching classes he's been on my ass about everything.

So what? I skip a couple of art classes. It's not like it actually matters.

The thing is my dad is a stern man. Ever since I was a child he told me that I needed to learn how to be a real man.

So that means I shouldn't ever talk about how I feel. I should just suppress my emotions, so I do that.

The only downside is that my emotions come back up in bursts of anger that I can't control.

It's not like I want to be this way, it's the way I've been wired since I could remember.

But the truth is I’m scared.

I’m scared that I’m never going to escape these emotions.

Everyone is going to forever know me as the miserable grump, Matt Sturniolo.

I wish I could change it around but nobody gives me the chance.

Maybe… when the opportunity arises I might have a chance, but I know that's not true.

As I start to spiral into worse thoughts, a hot pink neon sign in the shape of an ice cream cone catches my attention.

I find myself squinting my eyes as I try to make out the letters.

“Gelato Galore”

No way they’re being serious…

GELATO GALORE?

That's ridiculous but I might as well try it, all I want is to be alone and what better place to be alone than an ice cream shop during winter?

I step through the door and I’m instantly overwhelmed by the bright colours, I feel like I’m drowning in an ocean of pink.

It’s everywhere I look!

As my eyes dart around they land on the only person in the shop besides the workers.

It’s a random girl and she seems upset, I feel like I know her from somewhere but I can’t place it.

The way she looks is something you could only describe as a depressing portrait made by a struggling artist, her hair falling in front of her face as tears roll down her cheeks.

The redness on her nose matching the small cherry on top of her sundae that she seems to be refusing to eat by the way she pushes it aside.

I feel a strong urge to check up on her but I don’t know if I should. I’ve never been good at helping people in need.

I sigh as I walk up to the counter. Whatever she's going through is none of my business.

~~~~

(Y/ns POV)

I let out a couple of sad sniffles as I push the little maraschino cherry that's on top of my ice cream to the side.

He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago…

I keep telling myself that he must be stuck in traffic or maybe he's just running late and I'm overthinking it all.

I've been repeating all the different scenarios in my head and reasons why he could be late.

My nails impatiently tap against the pink plastic spoon they gave me, I feel as though I’ve been here for hours when in reality it has only been around twenty minutes.

Why can’t he just call me or even text me if he’s running late?

That's when I see my phone light up on the table. I quickly pick it up and I'm met with his contact name.

As I read the message he sent me I could physically feel my heart drop, all of the hope I had was crushed within a second

“I can't make it.”

What the fuck? No sorry? No explanation? Nothing.

I can't believe he could treat me with such disrespect.

I feel like such an idiot…

I sigh in defeat, I place my phone down on the table and dive straight back into my ice cream to distract myself from the current heartbreak I'm feeling.

As I scraped some ice cream from the bottom of the tub, I noticed that the chair in front of me had just pulled back and someone had taken a seat on it.

“Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, but I couldn't help but notice that something seems to be bothering you. Is everything okay?”

what? I lift my head and I'm met with the sight of a stranger.

But he's not really a stranger, It appears to be Matt Sturniolo.

Although I have seen Matt at school and around the small town that we live in, we don't necessarily run in the same social group.

I sigh as I sit up straight and put down my now-empty ice cream tub.

“I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it.”  

I look back down at the table, silently praying that he goes away but he stays.

“So…you a fan of ice cream?”

His small voice catches me off guard, I’ve never heard him talk with such little confidence.

Every inch of my body screams at me to get up and leave. To ignore the boy sat opposite. To run straight back to my room and rot in bed. Run back to my comfort zone.

But I hear my mother's voice ringing throughout my head.

“Come on, Y/n. You're not going to go anywhere in life if you don't put yourself out there. Just try it once, you might be surprised by what could happen.”

So I swallow every anxious feeling screaming at me to leave.

“Yeah. I mean… who isn't?”

A small smile on my lips. I lift my head to look at him, noticing the corners of his lips curled up slightly.

~~~~

I feel a peaceful smile tug on my lips, the scent of cold crisp air filling my senses.

I've always loved the winter. It has a sense of comfort that has always overwhelmed me.

I feel myself dipping deeper and deeper into a state of tranquillity when suddenly the boy next to me speaks up.

“You never answered my question earlier.”

He peers down at me. I sigh.

“What question?”

I know what question he's talking about. I've been asked the same question for years and I've grown to become annoyed at it as I grow older.

“I asked you, why are you always by yourself? Don't you have any friends?”

I tense up and he notices. He stops walking and grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop in the middle of the pavement.

“I'm sorry…”

I watch as his face contorts into a remorseful expression. His eyebrows knitting together.

“I didn't mean to come off as rude. It's just… I've seen you around school and you're always alone, I'm curious.”

I sigh as I look away from him. This is the last thing I need right now. I don't need someone here pointing out stuff that I already know.

It's frustrating. I tug my wrist out of his grip.

“Why don't you�� oh, I don't know… mind your business.”

My tone is filled to the brim with annoyance. The way his face falls causes a twinge of guilt to seep into my heart but I push it down.

“Look, I'm just trying to help.”

He speaks through gritted teeth.

That was my last straw.

Without saying another word, I spin around on my heels and walk in the other direction. Completely ignoring the sound of his voice calling out for me.

So much for trying to make a friend.

(A/N: omg this literally took me weeks to finish 😭 I’ve been having an INSANE and extremely frustrating writers block but she’s done 😋 thank you so so much for reading <333)

Tags: @guccifrog @junnniiieee07

[zukosdualdao]

i promise i'll do better (i will soften every edge)

zutara month, day 11: "mom and dad are fighting again", @zutaramonth

summary: kya interrupts an argument between katara and zuko.

warnings: reference to (implied) abuse/domestic violence, wrt to ozai's treatment of ursa.

other notes: lyrics from 'light' by sleeping at last. don't ask me how timelines work idk. yes there is a zutara daughter named kya here (separate entity from the lok kya.) she wears her hair in a southern water tribe braid and zuko calls her firecracker and it’s very cute. not really relevant but in this story i’m imagining she’s a nonbender.

“Katara, you know I agree with you.”

Across from him, she crosses her arms, and Zuko sighs. The throne room is empty, save for the two of them, and Zuko feels trapped, claustrophobic in the walls. They’ve made a point of opening up windows in the castle, letting light filter in, getting rid of old, haunting portraits, and making something new and beautiful together. 

But the throne room doesn’t have windows to open. On a day like today, at times like these, it’s all too easy to remember the staunchly severe figures both his grandfather and father made here, walling themselves as they did behind high, towering fires.

Maybe they shouldn’t be having this talk here. It's too late now, but something to note for the future.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Of course I want to increase reparations soon,” he insists. “That’s the plan, and that’s always been the plan. But we have to be smart about this,” he tries to remind her. “We can’t do it all at once, or people will try to block—”

“Oh, so now you’re all about thinking things through! Those instincts could have served you well years ago, you know.”

Zuko closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. The words are biting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Things have been tense again in the Fire Nation lately. Better than ever before in some ways. Worse in others.

The first years after the war were a turbulent time in the Fire Nation—riots from those not happy with the changing of the old guard, strikes from workers contesting the need to pay reparations to the other nations, whispers of loyalists to the old regime plotting to get either Ozai or Azula back on the throne. A few assassination attempts, all handled efficiently but reason enough for concern.

Ten years past the end of the war, though, and things have started to stabilize. The plan has always been to increase reparations once the Fire Nation’s economy has improved, and Zuko intends to keep his word. But part of the system he’s trying to build means that there are representatives from all over the Fire Nation, as well as the other nations, and they each have their own agendas. It’s a tricky thing to navigate; he has to take all of their concerns seriously, of course, but also act according to his own principles. To live up to the promises he made years ago, and that he’ll continue to make for years to come.

Katara looks at him with a combative raise of her eyebrow.

It’s taken a strain on their relationship. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, they’re both a little too good at lashing out, both a little too good at saying the thing that will hurt, even if they immediately regret it.

But usually, by the end of the day if not before, they can remember they’re on the same side, for all that their perspectives might differ.

“Can we pause?” Zuko asks of her, and her features soften. “Just—try to hear each other out? Katara, I understand…” but before he can finish, the large door to the throne room creaks, and Zuko watches as one of the serving maids guides their daughter into the room.

“See?” Kya points to them, eyes wide with alarm and lip quivering. “Mom and Dad are fighting again.”

Something in Zuko’s stomach drops. He doesn’t want her to worry about this. About them. He’d had to worry about his parents, to worry about his mother, Ozai looming over her, and sometimes Zuko was pretty sure he saw fear in her eyes where there should have been love, and then—

She’d been gone. And he’d drawn his own conclusions, quietly and with little reason to question them.

“She coudn’t sleep,” Hina says apologetically, and Zuko only waves a hand. “She was asking for you both.”

“Thank you for bringing her.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry,” Katara says, walking over and lifting Kya up onto her hip. “Things are just tense right now,” she says, with a guilty sideways look to Zuko, who smiles weakly. “It’s not anything for you to worry about.”

“Promise?”

Zuko walks over to join the huddle and places a kiss atop her dark hair, which is twisted in a braid. “Promise, little firecracker. Mom and Dad are just trying to figure out the right way to handle something.” He meets Katara’s eyes and tries to impress the sincerity of his words on her. “But we will figure it out. We always do.”

Katara smiles at him and uses the hand not keeping Kya secure on her hip to touch the small of Zuko’s back in a gentle gesture. The three of them stand huddled together, and for the first time in… weeks, probably, Zuko feels his body relax, just a little.

He smiles back, a little exhausted but a lot relieved—to have Katara with him, there to both challenge and support him, to have Kya with them, creative and funny and quick as a whip as she is, and at only age four. He’s glad to have his family.

They are okay. Right now, they are okay. Whatever else may come.

[littledesertfox]

Do you have any favorite pictures of Rommel?

I do! Actually too many to decide which ones I like best, I think😅 But these are some of my favourites, I tried to kind of sort them into different categories (beware this is gonna be a long post):

Please note that the positive descriptions or "gushing" that may occur in this post refer strictly to his appearance, not his views or actions! I guess that makes sense since we're talking about pictures here, but just wanted to clarify it.

These are some of my favourite portraits of him, especially the first two are some I really like. This is probably just me talking in my own biased opinion, but I genuinely do think that he had a very beautiful face. Like, he looks so soft but still masculine at the same time? And his facial features just compliment each other very well. Somehow I also really like looking at his eyes (which is funny because I'm horrendously bad at that in real life😂), especially the first 3 pictures just have something very tender about them.

Next up, fully body photos! The second one is probably one of my favourite pictures of him ever, I don't know exactly what he's doing but he looks very funny xD But also these pictures always make me think that I can't help myself but find his body shape genuinely aesthetically appealing, and I've been trying to identify why that is. I think I just really like that he doesn't look like the "ideal" of a stereotypically masculine man, while appearing in no way less masculine because of that. Like, he wasn't built very tall or broad (I've read that he was about 1,68m, of course people were just shorter on average back then, but on photos together with others he often still looks rather small), he had a small torso and more slanted shoulders, overall just a more soft and (in my opinion) almost dainty body shape. I feel like the uniforms he typically wore just added to that, for example in the way they accented his hips quite a bit in some photos. Personally, I find this type of man with softer features like him just much more aesthetically attractive than a stereotypical dudebro/"alpha male" (I hate that word so much bruh💀) kind of guy. Plus, it also gives me an odd kind of reassurance in regard to my own gender expression. I could go on about this but I think I'll rather save that for a later post because this already got quite long.

Next a category that is very special to me🫶 Photos together with his chief of staff and best friend Fritz Bayerlein! I'd honestly love to add more of these, but they are sometimes a bit harder to find online. There are quite a few photos of them together in Bayerlein's biography, but I haven't scanned or taken pictures of most of them yet. I hope to post some of them in the future though, maybe also with some background information. I love all of these, but I especially adore how genuine and effortless Erwin's smile look in the second one. From all the things I've read about them, I like to think that he and Fritz really had a deep and trustful bond and cared a lot about each other.

I don't know how many pictures I can still fit into this post, so I'll finish it off with a few more that don't belong to a specific category:

Proud dad Rommel with little Manfred🥺 I feel like this is also a more uncommon photo where he's not wearing his usual uniform.

Young Rommel! I got to be honest, I enjoy pictures of him as a young man and I don't think he looked bad in the slightest, but I still think he's the type of person who gradually just started looking better and better as he got older. I wonder how he'd have turned out though if he got to live longer.

I just think he looks a bit funny with a Stahlhelm on😂 Not quite the way how you're used to seeing him.

I first came across this photo when I was maybe 13 or 14, and ever since I've wondered if it just had to do with the image quality and age, or if Rommel actually shaved his legs😂 Like, they look so smooth. I don't know about you, but if I was leading an army then shaving a legs would pretty much be the last thing I'd think of doing. Maybe he also simply had just very little or very light body hair though, I think it would fit in with the rest of his appearance.

I could go on for longer but I think this post is already long enough so I'll stop for now. At first I thought about making an extra category for family photos as well as for WW1 pictures of him, however I don't have a lot of them saved and was mostly using pictures here that I already had and didn't have to look up first. This was very fun though, I just love looking at all kinds of photos of him. Thanks for the ask <3

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Well here I am ehehehe >:]

Santino having a breakdown and he breaks stuff around him, whatever he grabs and well accidentally hurt himself. John tries to calm him down and help him AGHH JOHN GET YOUR MAN HE IS HAVING A BREAKDOWN

Just get everything sharp or that can break away from him when he's like that, see what happens 😭

Hello hello! I’ve been thinking about this scenario all the time, ever since your asks for “Salt in the Wound” and “A Slap from a Saint”!! I made it really sad, like those fics.

🖤💙 The Boy in the Picture Frame 💙🖤

TW: panic attack, crying, accidental self-harm, blood, past physical and emotional abuse by a parent, discussion of disownment

John had spent all afternoon texting, in between pacing around his living room. He was trying to keep his lover talking - giving in to his flirting and doing anything possible to make him laugh. Santino was upset by a mistake he'd made the day before during negotiations with a Ruska Roma representative. The man had tricked him into boasting about the ferocity of his forces, revealing critical information about how security operated for the Camorra in New York. It was a rookie mistake, made because he was running on high emotions and little sleep, and Santino was taking it hard. It could mean punishment from the Camorra.

So, when John looked down at the screen and saw, "I'm sorry I just can't keep talking right now. Something came up, but don't worry," he froze.

Was it too much to call? Santino probably just wanted to be alone, and if that was the case, he'd be annoyed. But...well, better annoyed than hurt if things were really bad.

The shaky voice on the other end did nothing to encourage him. "John, please. I have someone on the other line. I just...he's really angry with me."

"Who? ...Your father?"

"I can't - I...." He switched to the other call again and was gone.

Suddenly, John found himself in his car and found that the speed limit was a mere suggestion.

They didn't live so far apart - Santino had chosen an apartment close to his boyfriend on purpose, and even gave him a second key. But by the time he burst through the door, it was already too late to stop Santino from getting hurt. John made his way through a trashed living room, stepping around overturned chairs and over glass from a broken picture frame, and calling Santino's name without any response.

He noticed, with a bittersweet twinge in his heart, that their photo together from Santino's birthday at the beach was the one thing that seemed untouched. Santino had chosen instead to destroy a family portrait, including both his parents, a young Gianna, and his own chubby face at four years old. Looking more closely, John noticed a smear of blood across the edge of the frame. He had torn out the picture, heedless of the jagged glass, and ripped the image in half...straight through little Santino.

A muffled, wounded sound in the bathroom distracted John from the horrible sympathy that was threatening to crush his ribcage. "Santino?" He ran to the bathroom door. It was unlocked and there, finally, was his lover - although the sight of him couldn't be called a relief. He was sitting on the ground against the wall with alarming red droplets glistening all around him and a messy bandage trailing from his hand. The only reason he wasn't actively sobbing seemed to be the shock of John's sudden entrance.

"What - John?"

John dropped to his side, not knowing what to say. He felt huge in that room, as if he might crush Santino further. His hands hovered over Santino's shoulders, wondering whether it was okay to touch him, before Santino just collapsed against his chest and started crying even harder.

"Thank you," he managed after a few minutes. "Thank you for coming. And look at the thanks you get in return... I got blood all over your shirt." He laughed hollowly.

"It's okay." John took his half-bandaged hand and felt him wince. "Sorry." He started unraveling the gauze. It was a pretty deep cut in Santino's palm, probably from grabbing carelessly at the broken picture frame. At least it didn't look bad enough to need stitches, but Santino was incredibly tense at every touch.

"You don't have to do that. I can do it myself."

"I know. But I don't want you to have to do that anymore." They'd talked about this - how it brought back bad memories for Santino to treat his wounds alone, as he'd had to do in childhood.

"I'm sorry, John. I was so stupid."

"No." That was all, a simple rejection of the very idea that any of this was Santino's fault. John didn't trust himself to say more without getting angry - not even remotely at Santino, but at all the people who had failed him throughout his life. He kissed the finished bandage and then looked up at Santino's anguished, watery eyes. "Do you have another copy of that picture?"

Santino hesitated. "It's on a flash drive. I think Gianna has it. But I don't want it anymore. I think..." He took a deep breath, on the verge of saying something crucial. "I think I'm not a part of my family anymore."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well...my father asked me to come back to Italy. He said I'm failing out here in New York, and he wants me to come back immediately. And I'm not doing that. Fuck him." He laughed, and it wasn't so hollow this time.

John couldn't help grinning. "Good."

"Good? That's all?" Another laugh. John could feel him getting stronger in his arms. More at ease. "You really never say anything, even at a time like this. I'm still getting used to it."

John thought for a moment. "No, it's not all. I want to know why you ripped through the picture of your own face instead of theirs."

He tensed up again. A long time passed before he spoke, but John had promised never to judge him. Always to listen. So, finally, he extended some trust. "I fucked everything up. I was broken from the start. I was weak. That's why he..."

Again, "No."

A mocking reply, dripping with stubborn, defensive sarcasm, "Yes." John could hear the wavering undertone. Really? Do you promise? Say it again.

"No. You were hurt. It's not on you. They lost you and not the other way around."

The reassurance was too much for Santino and he crumpled against John's chest again. For a while, John held him, listening to his sobs and to the dripping sink. In his rush to try to patch himself up, he must not have shut it off properly. He must have been struggling. John wove his fingers deeper into his hair, trying to massage self-love straight into his brain.

"Do you think Gianna will still talk to you?"

He huffed and pulled back again, tired but finally calm. "...Maybe. In secret. Who cares?"

"Well, I still want you to get a copy of that picture if you can."

"Why?"

"I want to cut out the little Santino and frame him by himself, for my mantlepiece. He was the good part. You are the good part. Not the rest of them."

[starsomens]

ceo Noah is making me foam at the mouth star WHAT DID YOU DO ?!?! MORE PLEASE

Girl me too I already love it

CEO Noah who only has eyes for you, you and you!

No CEO Noah being the man that he is has a well-known reputation that goes around, which means a lot of women know about him and once they do see his face, they are foaming at the mouth, but do they know that this man wants nothing to do with any other woman except for you

So they want to invest into their business only to walk into his office in a giant portrait of you looking down on

Attempt, and usually when they do, he denies their request for a business loan 

Whenever it comes to business designs and colors, he calls you for approvals and suggestions. Listen to them when he has you???? M he could be having the worst day at the office and all it will take is for you to walk in with that pretty smile of yours and his day just feels so much better

Man is literally stressing anyone that comes to his office. He tells him to just get out but as soon as he sees your head pop in 

Like I said when it comes to you, this man is a big baby. He talks to you in a baby boy even though he’s this very 6’3 CEO that’s basically a Doberman in human form. But then he gets all bright and bushy tails once you appear.

Literally buys you everything and anything you want and that includes anything that you just look at or pick up out of interest and put it back.

He does pay attention to things like your shoes and your make up so whenever they start to run low or wear out, he replaces them without telling you and you been a lot longer than you anticipated.

Did you ever have to make any speeches that event that he has to the first person he always thinks is you because you’re literally his motivation and reason as a CEO and stay in business and perform to 100%.

He has had cases where his employees try to hit on you and knowing that you’re his wife. Two things happen, either they get fired within the hour or they get a load of work then no one wants to touch and has put a side for months.

You may be his wife and they may all understand that you’re his but sometimes he needs to remind them that is your presence because he worked and still works to be a man worthy of you

Many of his foundations and any kind of charities or organizations that he has created or named after you or named after a pet name he has given you

Every month he does donate to charity of your choice. And he asked you how much you want to donate.

It may be his business and his work that he started from the ground up. But at the end of the day, you’re the whole reason he keeps going.

[lightofraye]

Portrait Of A Woman

Yes, another version of this. Deal. 😆

I'm always changing and growing, revising my life and what I'm blogging about. I joke that I'm a gossip columnist (because I do refer to other celebrities besides Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles), but it's only to share my other interests.

So what are my interests? The purpose behind this blog?

Many things. I title it Ramblings Of A Writer for a reason. I write and boy, do I ramble!

I’ll also be redoing my masterlists to make it easier for folks to find certain posts. I won’t be redoing posts—no need to do that, but perhaps reposting information being redone. Like “Version 2 with new stuff” or better organized information and having those on the masterlists instead.

Let's begin with me:

Who am I?

My online nickname: Raye

Pronouns: She/her

Astrology: (Western) Pisces, (Eastern) Metal Monkey

Country: United States

I am anti (and I make no apologies):

Anti Danneel/Anti Elta

Anti Misha

Anti AAs

Anti Destiel

Anti Hellers

Anti Cockles

Anti Abuse

My ‘custom’ tags:

#Jensen Supportive (I believe I'm the originator)

#Music Choices by lightofraye

#lightofraye on abuse

I also frequently use #Jensen Concern, though I am not the originator (like I thought I was!).

What I’m reading:

Fictional: The Dresden Files, currently Battle Ground and Peace Talks

Non-fiction: The Body Keeps The Score

Where am I at with my writing:

BA Script: Judging by the math… 1/2 of the way through. Loving it! First draft!

Pre-plotting my horror/thriller

Vikings? VIKINGS!

So many more planned. Someone knock out my muse. 😅

What am I watching?

Burn Notice (finally getting the last season!)

Daredevil (again!)

Once Upon A Time

Supernatural (forever and ever, ahem)

The Good Place

A Discovery of Witches

About this blog:

I really, honest to gods, did not start this blog to be an anti. I know my anons would disagree with me and claim I always “hated” Danneel, but that just isn’t the truth. I came to Tumblr to find a new kind of social media as I was feeling soured by Facebook, disliked how Twitter had changed, escaped Livejournal years ago, not a fan of Reddit, and the “newer” social media sites weren’t my thing. Plus I’ve kept seeing hilarious screenshots from Tumblr on Facebook and decided to check it out!

I initially started by following pages about Supernatural, Sam and Dean Winchester, the actors Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. I did not go seeking anti-Danneel posts; they more or less fell into my lap. When I started reading a few posts, something clicked in my mind, explained why I was struggling with how I felt about her. I kept analyzing her behavior for a long while, what she said, and thought maybe something was being seen by fans that wasn’t being seen by me.

The explanations made sense. I felt I could breathe again. That’s when I remembered the least recognized method of abuse: emotional and mental. That fit Danneel to a T. Especially the more I looked into what she’s said and wrote over the years and saw how Jensen behaved around her in videos and photos. Even when they were supposedly trying to push the “happy couple” narrative, it just did not look true. Especially given Jensen’s talent as an actor! If he couldn’t even fake being happy or in love with her….

So I’m an Anti-Danneel. I’m also Anti-Misha for his behavior over the years, towards Jared, towards Jensen, the lies he’s peddled and keeps peddling. (For instance, no, Castiel would not have ‘fucked’ Dean upon pulling him out of Hell. No, CW was not being homophobic.)

I am absolutely very pro-Jared and pro-Jensen. I know, I know…. “But Raye, you’ve written posts criticizing Jensen! How can you be pro-Jensen??”

My answer is a variation of this: “Because I care! I am not blind to the flaws of either men! I am wildly concerned about Jensen, about what seems—to me—as excessive drinking, ‘empty’ eyes, unhappy and stressed smiles.”

For the vast majority of the AAs, it seems I’m not pro-Jensen if I don’t see him as flawless, a god upon the perfect pedestal, the Ken doll That breaks my heart. He is flawed. He is imperfect. I see more than just the pretty mask. I want to see and know the man. He isn’t just a beautiful trophy for us to ogle.

He’s caught in a rock and a hard place and I acknowledge that hard. It’s just only the negativity is seen and not the love and support. 😕

What can I tell you about me?

I could say so much. I’m the third child of a family of four kids, and the only daughter. (So that was fun.) I’m a gamer, read comics (still read a few, such as ElfQuest), got into reading fantasy books (Dragonlance’s War of the Lance was my first!), have a massive interest in psychology, in wanting to understand the human mind. I’m fluent in two languages—English and American Sign Language.

Ah, that last one might surprise some folks. No, I am not deaf—but my parents, two of my three brothers, and everyone on my mother’s side of the family are. I half-joke that my first language is ASL, not speaking with a voice. It’s not a joke though; it’s more or less accurate.

I’m a writer. I’m working on several screenplays, have plans for novels, dabble in poetry. I’m an amateur artist—have sketched with pencil and Photoshop. I haven’t done so in a while, but I love art. I do a lot under the creative umbrella, and most of it is as an amateur—photography, wishing to learn pottery, and so forth.

I’m a mother. I’m divorced (happily so, trust me). I have born children of my body and I have children of my heart. I have suffered loss deeply profound that I wish people would talk more about so we all realize we aren’t as alone as we fear.

I’m an advocate for better, stronger laws against abuse, of the protection and services for survivors. Largely because I’m a survivor, but also because I give a damn about people. I’ve experienced it all, starting from childhood to my (thankfully) now-ex-husband. I am hoping to start a series of reels explaining the red flags of abuse, how to recognize them, how to get out if you are in an abusive situation, and what organizations exist to contact for help (if any do exist). Keep an eye out for those when I start posting them!

A link to the ever-in-progress masterlist.

First masterlist, largely anti Danneel posts. (My thorough anti Danneel post, highly recommend reading it.) Second masterlist, more anti Danneel. Third masterlist, assorted posts. The links will be defunct due to changing my Tumblr name. So just switch out rrahuntersblog to lightofraye and it'll work. I'm reworking those too! Bear with me! My first About Me. My second About Me Redux.

[darcytaylor]

Hello!

I would like your opinion in some topics about Luke that are kind driving me insane. Hope you can respond to it.

I think that for Luke, the press tour has a negative response. Before the tour, I thought him an adorable dork and genuine person. How Nicola would talk about him, how he used to portrait himself seemed such a nice person. I don't know if the lack of acknowledgement to Nicola, how she would always hype him up and he never had a compliment for her irked me.

During the tour things that I never associated to him became the things first in my mind when I see his photos or videos. Things likes indigenous, full of ego and jealous. How looks he doesn't care for the fans, for the people who depends on the show and who worked hard for it, for Nicola and even for his own hard work.

I don't even care he has a girlfriend. I don't ship him with Nicola because she deserve a mature partner and Like kind doesn't act his age. I would like to stop filing that way, because Colin e Penelope are my favorite book, and the way he's making me feel is ruining it for me. But I don't know how. Please give me your opinion.

Hey! I want to say that I am sorry you are feeling the way that you are. Disappointment is a strange thing, it makes you feel angry and sad all wrapped up together and it sucks!

I do see where you are coming from with how the promo tour brought light to a different version of what most people thought Luke was.

One of the things I mentioned in my deep dive into Luke's relationship was that so many people (Nicola included) said that Luke was most like his character. That alone is a lot to live up to. When you have a character (that I believe was made for the female gaze) that you yourself and other people say you are like, the expectations would be insane. I'm not shocked that when people started seeing cracks in that, people could/would be more disappointed than usual.

Another thing that people have been seeing is Nicola having exceeded all the expectations when it came to the promo tour. Nicola had a lot of people expecting her to not do a good job, people upset that she was the next season. But she showed everybody that she was worth it, that she deserved to be where she was, while also being a good person.

Luke did have hate come his way but not in the same way or as strong as Nicola. And because of that I think that Luke didn't feel as inclined to prove himself worthy.

(I'm not saying that either of them should have had to prove themselves, but when you have someone like Nicola doing just that, and Luke doing the bare minimum, it definitely cast a negative light towards Luke)

We also have to realize that Nicola is just better at building people up, she is better with words, she is better at communicating than Luke will ever be. So to expect the same from Luke, will ultimately cause disappointment and I believe is an unrealistic expectation for Luke.

You can see the anxiety coming off of Luke at times, and when you have anxiety it can make it way more difficult to say certain things, do certain things, act a certain way. I don't want to make excuses for Luke but I can see how that alone could effect how the public sees him, and it not be how he actually feels. So giving him a little grace when it comes to that, could be valid.

I think when you take a step back and understand that Luke is just a regular guy, with regular insecurities, it makes the situation a whole lot better and easier to understand. His actions have proved to me that he is insecure (getting into a relationship with a young adult, his friend group, his anxiety, his actions towards his career).

Sometimes when someone shows to have an inflated ego, it is actually their need to prove their worth and to mask their insecurities.

My advice to you is to try and not have expectations of people (especially ones we don't know), that way if they show a slight variation of the person you thought they were, you won't be disappointed. And you may find it easier to understand where they are coming from and find grace in their actions.

I do think that Luke has made SOOOO many mistakes in the last year. He has shown a different side of himself that his audience didn't know he had in him. But we also don't truly know him, we don't know the situations he has been in for him to act a certain way, or why he has chosen to do certain things.

He is also human, and humans make mistakes, they don't always act perfectly, they don't always make the correct decisions. But that doesn't make them a bad person, that just makes them human.

Accepting that Luke may not be the version you thought him to be and realizing that he can still have good and bad qualities (and accepting that), may help your situation of continuing to love Penelope and Colin.

I hope you can still love Penelope and Colin (and maybe it will just take some time), because they are such a great couple!

[pepsiiwho]

The Hulkenberg Problem

Hi metaphor refantazio fans. It's me, your favorite contrarian eyesore. (Advertisers have made me change this opening greeting)

As I've played this game I've found myself enjoying every character, flaws in all (the more flaws the better truthfully) but theres one that for the life of me I just can't get behind. Somehow in a game with characters with single portraits, a few voice lines and little to no significant plot relevance, one of the first confidants you make does nothing for me. I guess I just wanted to air my grievances a bit here and offer hypothetical writing solutions as I see fit. This is an open discussion, somewhat, so feel free to respond to the points shared here, but I'll warn you I don't respond to name calling lmao

Spoilers for end game kinda <3

So, mmm. Where to start.

Blanket statement for this post; TLDR: Hulkenberg feels like the physical manifestation of every problem I have with the game on a thematic and structural level and I think in a tighter story that's more willing to interact with it's chosen subject matter, could make her to be a standout character above the rest.

As I see it, Hulkenberg's (Hulk) story is on its head, really interesting. She was the personal guard of the, at this point in the story, ever elusive and mysterious Prince figure cursed to wither away. We know nothing about the prince save for 3 things:

MC (Will) adores him, for some fucking reason. We're talking a loyalty so strong that he's willing to go on a, self proclaimed, suicide mission to reinstate him.

He's cursed and left in a comatose state that, seemingly, has no real cure and leaves him catatonic

The world thinks he's dead.

Now, obviously, once we've gotten to the end of the game we know that the points above are all defunct. But, in the beginning of the game that's all we know.

I can't speak for you, reader, but I had wondered: "why is he at the sanctuary? just for safety?" "Is his father not at all curious about his body and where it was?" "what happened the night of the curse exactly?" and this just floated around my head until we meet Hulk— the personal knight to the prince and, presumably, his closest aid just based on proximity.

I think a natural question, when you first hear Hulk's story and then compare it to your mission and Will's truth in this world is— why weren't you invited onto this mission?

You're telling me the prince's personal tutor and sword teacher got to know his location and status before his knight did ? That doesn't make sense at all.

Okay so now more questions pop up from this silent implication: "was Hulk just incredibly inept?" Well, maybe. But when she reunites with the other members of the princes's team they assure her she was a wonderful aid. so, probably not?

"Had she shown herself to be too incapable of protecting the prince to join?" well if that's true Grius shouldn't have made the cut either. He failed to protect the prince just as surely as Hulk did.

"it was a quick thing, they couldn't bring everyone or it would raise suspicion" sure, this is the most reasonable option, I guess, but again— how did gruis make the cut then if it was only a few people allowed? I can't imagine he was a more useful team member than Hulk. She was his assigned knight! Ordained and everything! Would Hulk have raised too many flags? If so why not recruit her once everything had died down a bit. Hell, she goes off and throws herself into finding the prince and/or his killers for years apparently and no one batted an eye. They couldn't have reached out in that time?

But this is good! this is great actually. Already, without saying a word we the audience are told 'She wasn't picked.' And we're left to sit on that.

Where I think the game stumbles after this is shooting their resident elf girl in the back by giving her 'anime woe' disease, as I've coined, which is the disorder when you have (1) thing that's happened to you and you harp on it— tirelessly.

You've probably seen this a lot, it's everywhere in Japanese fiction (or at least the contemporary stuff that blows up into an international and online audience).

In Hulk, it shows itself through every other word being about her grief and failure, failure to the prince and the crown and the people for letting things get this bad. She isn't special here, Strohl and Heismay have the same problem (parents dead and son dead respectively) and its... grating, in them too, but I can't fully articulate why Hulk feels so offensively boring in comparison. If I were to try, I think compared to the grief of loosing someone irreversibly whom you loved (a parent or child), Hulk only loses her charge. Which she thought to be her duty of course, but this listlessness does nothing for her character.

Heismay, in his grief, becomes a recluse and racist who wants nothing to do with he world that scorned him, stole his son and tramples on the effort he did for the crown and common folk alike. He's aged with this grief and it's soured him even though he seems, generally, affable. Strohl is harder to place just because he was so young when it happened, so his grief has just fundamentally formed him as a person, but you see his behavior is shaped around this grief inside him. It's the core. He's impulsive and unable to sit aside for second chances, instead preferring to, say, run into the fire and do what he can. These two have been changed by their pain, irreversibly.

In comparison... Hulk is just... moping. She has, seemingly, changed very little since her time working for the prince. She's still happy and loves food, still serious but has a goofy side around those she respects and still speaks highly of the crown. Sure she could have changed from before, maybe she's less serious now but that doesn't make sense. It feels very one note. you complain endlessly about this failure, this loss that changed you and left you adrift, but really how lost are you? You're horribly casual during this journey. You, who wants the prince alive more then anyone on this damn ship— save will— are gallivanting around and partaking in local delicacies long enough to be distracted. It sends mixed messages.

Not to play trauma Olympics, but if you told Heismay that waiting at the end of this journey is his son, alive and well, I can't imagine he'd be enjoying any moment of leisure. Same of Strohl.

Right okay so what the fuck ever she's an inconsistent character. so what? that's why you hate her?

Well, kinda? More then anything I hate her eyes, but that's neither here nor there— 

but lets get into the fix. So on my YT channel I've talked about my problems with the game and fixes I wanna make, and here's another:

We need to rework her. Here's my pitch.

Hulkenberg is the oldest daughter of some dukedom, somewhere, and in the kingdom's employ as the prince's aid and personal knight. Though she is strong, she is haughty and sees the work to be her destiny and as such grows lax and unappreciative of what she's doing. She's a bold foodie who enjoys music and dancing more than weaponry and the job is a bit tiresome. But she is devout to the crown and her family are sanctists to their core. So her allegiance, at least outwardly, is less for the prince, and more for the institution itself.

fight happens, its a shit show. The prince is cursed and 'dies' on her watch. Because of this she is ousted from the royal guard and stripped of her titles, seen as a failure for her inability to save the prince. Wanting to prove herself, she goes on this journey to find the prince and fix her mistake, to repent for her failure that has haunted her since it happened.

What this new backstory does is:

1) explains why she wasn't taken along. This version of hulk is too tied to the church and powers that be to just disappear and never seemed to have much affection for the prince past pleasantries. It's too big a gamble to let her in the sanctuary, so less capable parties have to follow in her stead.

2) This would explain why she's left to her own devices. She's too important to her family to just be murdered outright and too strong to be assonated either, so covert options are out. Stripping her of her importance and ostracizing her from the life she knew keeps her quiet. this hulk is seen as a loose thread that needs to be cut, lest she grow discontent and cause fuss.

3) It allows for her to change from the more care-free version we'd learn she was. This failure stripped her of everything and now she's a husk of herself. But she can get it all back if she can get the prince back. Make up for her failure.

In this version of the story you'd get glimpses of who she used to be, brief flashes of the cute young woman who was left behind with the prince's corpse. Maybe not great waifu bait, but it's more fun so sue me.

I also need her to be a racist.

But, that's for the next post. This ones already way too long. If u want more my ask box is always open. mwah

Hope you enjoyed <3