#it shouldn’t even be extra it should have been taught

[draconicsplendor]

If my professor doesn’t fucking appreciate how hard I’m working to make this building model AODA compliant I might literally sue

[mychlapci]

Prowl wifefication but it’s /Soundwave/ doing it… it wouldn’t be so much of a slow burn as it would be a long fuse before the transformation. Nobody wants to fuck Prowl, you see, which has lead to a self-perpetuating cycle of truly awful vibes and desperately horny thoughts. Which Soundwave can’t help picking up on, during the somewhat rare occasion they cross paths. Taking Prowl off of the board would be a strategic advantage worth the effort by itself, but there’s no reason Soundwave shouldn’t get something out of it, too. If anyone else was going to stake a claim, they should have done it by now. But he’s going to have to be at least somewhat careful about it.

Perhaps it starts with a subtle virus or two, not designed to do anything but make Prowl a little bit hornier than before. Just a touch more sensitive and suggestible. Nothing too noticeable. Just a few lines of naughty code expertly hidden in a file or two Soundwave can stand to let slip, or delivered to Prowl’s work terminal by an enterprising cassette if there’s time. And every time Prowl plugs in he gets a fresh dose, just enough to leave him horny before bed. Self-servicing every night so Prowl can fall asleep, still sticky. Nothing more until the new routine sets in. Then, a little escalation.

It’s too soon to introduce hypnotic elements—a new datapad would be met with infinite suspicion and Prowl almost never listened to music. So an additional strand of code gets tacked on to the ones to make Prowl horny: just a little incentive to have more submissive fantasies. Any time the Autobot second in command imagines letting someone else take the lead, take care of him, /dominate/ him results in an extra rush of charge and a warm tingling from his pleasure core. There’s nothing to be alarmed about, no need to be ashamed. They’re only dirty little fantasies that leave Prowl panting and desperate to go for a second overload. Normal. Natural.

Once Soundwave has crossed paths with Prowl and confirmed that his coding has taken well, it’s time to give Prowl wet dreams. It’ll be easiest after taking Prowl prisoner, even if the mech is quickly rescued. It’s perfect even: the mech won’t even question his horny dreams, since his self-servicing routine has been interrupted. Still too early to be too direct, but flashes of Prowl on all fours taking spike or riding one like a pro are nondescript enough. Watching the mech grind in his sleep is a treat. On their final night “together” before the mech gets rescued, Soundwave allows a brief snapshot of Prowl’s future to tantalize him. Just another horny dream for Prowl, bouncing ecstatically on a hard spike. Valve hot and slick with arousal as the mech paws his own node. And then, a glimpse of something that Prowl won’t be able to get out of his head: a round, taught, /pregnant/ belly underneath one of his hands. Prowl wakes up in a cold sweat, transfluid cooling on the inside of his panels as he tries to make sense of the dream. His head is still swirling when the Ops team rescues him.

Of course Soundwave has left him clean of viruses this time: he needs his cute little autobot to get cleared for work, so he can get back to working himself up into a horny, submissive mess. While everyone was busy rescuing their tactical officer, Soundwave’s cassettes were busy playing with his datapads. And one in particular has some fun new features to help settle Prowl into the idea of his future role even better. The datapad keeps Prowl hornier than ever before, and the barely perceptible flickering of the screen helps Soundwave encode specific wet dreams and directives while the mech works. And, y’know, also harvests sensitive data for the Decepticons to use. But more importantly it lets Soundwave direct Prowl’s increasingly common wet dreams. Soon it’s all about Prowl’s wet, needy pussy. His spike all but vanishes from the fantasies, replaced by some faceless, nameless stand-ins for Soundwave between Prowl’s legs.

For fun, in the days leading up to Prowl’s real capture, Soundwave will even let fantasies about strong, handsome blue mechs slip through. Wet dreams about being bent in half, thighs by Prowl’s shoulders as he’s thrust into. Arms easily holding him up or restraining him.

And then Prowl is waking up blind and restrained, not knowing that Soundwave has been priming him for this new game: training his perfect little wifey.

oh brother, this is like a prequel to those Prowl Wifefication asks we had going on for a while… Finally, we know who the husband is. It’s Soundwave, and he’s going to make a mamma out of Prowl <3

[mychoombatheroomba]

Proper Introductions

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 2

You're feeling a lot of regret for your performance in the training yard yesterday. For lots of reasons.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

You had almost forgotten what it was to be a fuckup. You had never been a perfect soldier, by any means, but lately you had been feeling like a competent one again. STRATCOM was kicking the living shit out of you, but you had felt like you were finally cresting the mountain, getting it to a manageable level of daily pain. 

Should have known better than to let yourself get too comfortable. Krauser always noticed when any of you got comfortable.

Your shame and the memory of steel against your side weighed on you the rest of the day, through the training and meals and even into your hour of personal time. An hour that you dedicated to running the drills that Krauser had taught you, trying to clear your head before lights out. 

It only partially worked, and the night was too long and too short all at the same time. When you finally got to sleep, you dreamed of snow and blood, and when you woke the next morning, you felt brittle. Breakable. The dog tags around your neck felt heavy, and you fought the urge to take them off. 

It pissed you off something fierce, so as the day’s training began, you pushed yourself hard, turning that shame into gasoline, letting it burn in your chest. Every shot you fired at the range, every extra millisecond it took to disassemble your weapon was another spark to the blaze. It burned and burned, until lunch time came, and you glimpsed another reason to regret your performance yesterday. 

“Looks like Krauser kicked the shit out of Pretty Boy.” One of your fellows, Valeria, snickered. Her eyes were fixed across the tables, her voice loud enough to carry just as far. Those who cared for gossip looked at who she spoke of, and with the heaviness in your gut, you couldn’t help but join them. 

He’d bruised. That ridiculous haircut of his fell on the wrong side of his face to hide the shiner that was forming across the rookie’s cheek, creeping up to just beneath his eye. Right where your fist had connected the day before. Seeing it made you feel, quite simply, like a piece of shit. It wasn’t the first time you’d given someone a mark in training. Wouldn’t be the last. Still, when he felt all those eyes on him and looked up, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d kicked a puppy. He couldn’t have been that much younger than you, but there was just something about those ocean eyes that deepened the pit of regret in your stomach. That only got worse when your own eyes met his. You thought he’d look away quickly. 

Instead, you found yourself surprised as the bruised cadet held your gaze, just the way he had when his guard had been up yesterday, before you’d knocked him to the ground.

“Wasn’t the Major,” Alejandro, another of your peers, corrected Valeria. Then, you felt the energy around the tables shift and you took your eyes off the kid you’d injured and looked instead at the man speaking. “Way I heard it,” he gave you a wolf grin, lifting a cup of water towards you in a toast, “it was our Sergeant, over here.” 

Murmurs swept around you, and you did your best to hide your grimace.

“Beating up babies now, huh?” Someone jabbed. You almost struck back. He put up more of a fight than you ever have was right at the tip of your tongue. A few years ago, you would have hurled the insult with abandon. Pull the pin and toss. Now . . . well, with the shit sleep you had and the general less-than-ideal way you felt, you just went back to eating your meal. If the scop they served could be called that. 

The rest of the recruits had their fun - as much of it as could be had before they realized you weren’t giving them anything to work with. You, in the meantime, just sank back into your own spiral of thoughts. 

You shouldn’t have hit him like that. Krauser was right, you shouldn’t have been tagged in the first place, but you didn’t make things better for yourself with a cheap shot. 

You’d just felt that knife against you and . . . and then you’d fucked up. You’d brought your own shit into the fight, made it someone else’s problem. Let yourself get scared by a fucking practice knife. It was stupid. 

It was stupid, and you wanted to put it behind you.

You finished your food quickly. Wasn’t anything to savor, anyway. Then, you stood, bringing your empty tray with you as you marched towards him. He was sitting by himself, and you were grateful that no one would be directly privy to this conversation. He had stopped looking at you, but your movement drew some quick glances from him. Even in those glimpses, he met you with a sharpness. That only grew as you approached, and more of his attention turned to you. Inquisitorial came to mind, one of those damn SAT words that you remembered, god knows why. He looked like he was trying to figure you out. 

He had grit, you had to give him that. 

Made you wonder what his life was like before this. Made you wonder about a lot of things. Mostly, though, you wondered-

“What’s your name?”

He looked surprised that you were asking. His expression said 'What the hell are you doing?'

You wanted to ask yourself the same thing. 

Instead, you waited that second or two before he answered. 

“Uh, Kennedy.” 

“I know. Krauser said that yesterday. I meant your first name.” 

Another pause, and you saw the gears turning in his head. “. . . Leon.” 

You nodded. Pointed to his cheek. “Sorry about that, Leon. You got me. Shouldn’t have been such a dick about it.” 

The recruit - Leon - blinked. His blue eyes moved away from you for a moment. Considering what to say. Then, he shook his head. “No, it’s . . .” if he said fine, you already knew that it would be a lie. He’d been pissed yesterday when you did it, and you couldn’t blame him. “It’s fine.” 

There it was. Liar. A polite liar. 

“No, it’s not. I was an asshole. Shouldn’t have happened.” 

He looked at you, confused, and you understood it well enough. Then, that sharpness about him turned to something a little brighter. Cautiously optimistic. “You said it, not me.” 

“I did.” Again, you nodded. There. Apology delivered, time for you to move on. 

You made it a step before Leon spoke again. “Thank you. For the apology.” 

Oh, he was not the sort of person you would expect to be here. 

Everyone you had trained with so far had been hardened bastards, most of them old and grizzled vets or arrogant hotshots. They needed the best. People who were going to get the job done. They were here to do a job, same as you. You’d come to expect no great affection. 

Even so, looking back at Leon, you found someone who looked genuinely, truly grateful. It took no special insight to imagine why. The training for the US Strategic Command was not and never would be the hardest thing you’d done in life, but it ground you down. It was a pressure cooker, and everyone felt it every second of every day. Krauser was a good teacher, but he was the sort who would push you to your breaking point. Beat you down so you never forgot when and how you showed a weakness. He had long warned that there would be no mercy in the real world, so he trained you without it. So, you knew that when Leon looked at you like that, it was because any kindness shown here was a rarity.

“Don’t mention it,” you said back. Here, in the midst of training for the worst of scenarios, on this most shitty of days, it felt nice to be not only forgiven, but maybe even appreciated. That little feeling stopped you from leaving so quickly, and you stepped towards the recruit once more. “And also: smaller arm movements.”

“What?”

“In our fight,” you clarified, “that’s how I could tell where you were going to go. You were telegraphing everything.” 

Leon almost smiled. It looked good on him. “Krauser told me the same thing yesterday. After.” 

“Well, he’s right.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind.” 

“Good.” 

The interaction was awkward, and you, for one, never wanted to do it again. Still, that was a better feeling to focus on than the crushing guilt you’d been stuck under all morning. You readily embraced it as you went into afternoon drills, glad you could at least make good on one of your mistakes. 

As for the others . . . well, those were the ones you clung to as you and Valeria circled each other later, knives flashing in the midday sun.

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Chapter Index

[imtryingbuck]

Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n L/n becomes Queen of Astoria not that she wanted to. Prince James of Winterfeld meets her and falls in love.

Word count: 1,893

Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of being barren. mentions of hunting.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Sitting in the chair that her father had been sitting in only two months prior with a crown sitting upon her head that she was surprised her neck had not yet broke with the weight of the thing, she tried not to wince at the pinching of the corset.

She had been crowned as the rightful heir to the throne and was now Queen. The whole hall erupted into cheers and chants, “Long live the Queen” and “The warrior Queen” hit her ears as she sat with her back straight. The knights all bent their knee to her - Carlson in front of them all, smiling up at her as he pledged his allegiance to her. She saw the scowl coming from Sir Jon as he nursed his ale, she smiled at him just to piss him off a little extra.

The celebration was loud with music and chatter from those in the hall, the smell in the air was intoxicating with food and ale - a lot of that was going to the floor as the guests danced. Everyone including her mother, sisters and Carlson were laughing and dancing, celebrating their new Queen. 

But Y/n, she just couldn’t find it in herself to join in the festivities she just wanted to be left alone or preferably in the woods training with Carlson and some of the other men, or better yet she wished that she was far away from the kingdom as she could possibly get. Looking around slowly making sure no eyes were on her as they were to busy dancing and having conversations amongst themselves, she stood and walked out of the side door. She found herself out in the private courtyard that only her family were allowed to be in, she took the crown off releasing a content and relieved sigh. The cold air soothed the ache of her chest as she looked up to the darkened sky smiling as the stars twinkled.

“Should have known you were going to try and run away. Ah, see you do not startle easily anymore.”

“I could smell you before I heard your boring voice.” She replied still staring up at the stars. “And do you see me running? The answer is no.”

“Listen here, you should have respect for your elders-“ he barked as he moved closer to her.

“I am not the same thirteen year old who was terrified of you, matter of fact I am more scared of a butterfly than I am of you.”

“You should not even be queen!”

Turning to face the man she had known all her life, the man who taught her how to play chess, the same man who would sneak some extra cake slices onto her plate when her parents weren’t watching. “Why shouldn’t I? I am the first born, my father never had a son, so why should I not be queen?”

“You are rotten. You are a barren bitch, what use are you if you cannot have an heir? You are best to work in the whore house-“

“Along with your mistress? I would rather not hear how dull you are at sex, thank you.”

“Y-you have no idea what you are talking about!”

“No? Red head, big tits, pretty face? A stark contrast from your wife, I must say.”

“Rotten you are-“

“So you have already said.”

“Barren bitch whose only deeming qualities lay on the battle field.”

“Again, you already called me that and also a battle field you have not seen in so many years, too busy hiding behind my father. And may I remind you of who you are talking to? I am the Queen, do not like that fact? Go and jump off the cliff, I will be sure to keep your wife and mistress safe and looked after.”

“You-you- wh-“

“You are embarrassing yourself now. You keep forgetting your station and I will end up removing more than your tongue. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… my Queen.”

“Very good. Run along and leave me in peace.”

“What happened to you? The little girl I knew was nice, sweet and had a heart of gold. Where did that little girl go?” Jon asked her with his hand on the door knob.

“She died the moment you dragged her off that boat. Goodnight Jon.”

Hearing the door slam close she gulped a large breath of air, trying her hardest to keep her heart rate down. She wasn’t scared of him but she did know how dangerous he could be, she had seen it with her own two eyes. When Y/n was younger she use to sit upon a tree stump with her knees pulled up to her chest and watched in fascination as Jon trained the other warriors, she watched in awe of how fast he was though he had years added on to those he was training. And although Jon was friendly and sweet to her she had seen him do things that gave her nightmares or would be afraid to go near him for a few days after. The Jon that stood in front of her just then, calling her those names, wasn’t the same man she had grown up with.

She didn’t know why he was so against something that she didn’t even ask for, he should have taken it out on her father and not her.

“Jon said I could find you here, old man is too busy drowning his sorrows in the corner- hey what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Go back and enjoy your night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You are freezing, come back inside Y/n/n.”

“Would you marry Anna?” She asked changing the subject.

“No. She’s a pretty girl but I do not view her in that way, why?”

“What about my other sisters?”

“No Y/n, what is going on?”

“If you married my sister I could abdicate from the throne and hand it over to you two, and then the kingdom would have a King and a Queen that would have heirs and I could leave and I-I could be happy, I could be free.”

Carlson stood there frozen listening to his friends words, he had half a mind to go back into the hall and attack Jon knowing for sure that he had said something to her for her to be thinking of such things. “You will find a husband of your choosing, hopefully it would be a marriage of love and have your own child-“

“I cannot have them and you know that.”

“You do not know that though. Your father told you that when you was a child Y/n, he was wrong about many of things - he is wrong about this too.”

“I will find a suitable prince for one of the girls-“

“Y/n-“

“I do not want this life Carlson, I never have. And I am not ashamed to admit that I am scared.”

Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him, he whispered. “I know. I know you do not want this but I believe in you, I know you will be the best Queen anyone will ever know. I am sorry but this is your life, and please know I will be right by your side every step of the way. I will not allow you to fail or to fall, this I swear to you.”

For the first time since she was sixteen years of age when she was made to take part of the annual hunt and forced by her father to take the life of an innocent deer, she cried. Gripping tightly of Carlson’s shirt she let everything go, the loss of her life, the loss of her fathers life, her stepmother life ending so soon, the unfairness of the life she had to live when she did not want it. She cried and cried until there was nothing left for her to give.

“Queen Y/n.” Her personal servant bowed as the young girl entered her chambers.

“Larissa, how are you?”

“I-I am very well my queen, how are you?”

“Good, have you eaten today?”

“I have not but-“

“Come sit with me, and enjoy some food. I fear the cooks have given me more than enough.” She sees the hesitation in the young girl’s movements, Y/n pushes a chair out and pats on the seat giving her an encouraging smile.

“Th-thank you my Grace.”

“Do not need to thank me, eat as much as you can”

Larissa was not use to this. She thought at first that she was to be the tester to make sure no one had tried to poison the queen, finding herself frowning when Y/n digs into the food before she does. Larissa had always admired Y/n growing up, always finding herself smiling then she would hear the Princess laughing, when she would have the duty to collect herbs from the woods she would see Y/n fighting against men who were bigger in height and weight to her and would always silently cheer on the Princess and finding herself chuckling to herself when she would win against her opponents. Never in her life did she think she would be handpicked to serve her queen directly, and now here she was eating a breakfast fit for royalty, answering questions that Y/n asked, mind and heart racing as her queen actually paid attention to her words.

The bubble burst for the two of them when a knock came from the door, Larissa goes to stand up but Y/n’s hand came into contact with her arm, “it’s okay. Come in.”

“My Queen.”

“Mother, how are you? Would you like to join me and Larissa to eat? There’s plenty to go around.”

“I have already eaten, but thank you.”

“Your loss. What is it?”

“I need to speak to you, privately, please.” Larissa nods and stands, bowing to the two women she leaves quickly.

“What is wrong?”

Y/n watched as her mother take the seat that Larissa had been occupying, her fingers tugging at the flow of her dress - something she tended to do when she was nervous. A habit she herself had taken up. “Please, please do not be mad.”

“What has happened?”

“Y/n, you need a husband and you know it. You need an heir and that is just how it is, you need to marry in order to have them.”

“Mother, you know-“

“Your father was being a foolish angry man, he did not mean it.”

“But what is he was? What if I am barren and I cannot give my husband what is required of me? I do not, no, I know I cannot go through what you went through. I will not do it, it is not fair on me, the man or the other woman. Please mother, please just drop this. I will figure something out.”

There was a deafening silence that followed her words, mother and daughter just staring at each other waiting for someone to speak. Y/n truly wished she had just bid farewell and left her own chambers to go and train with Carlson even though she knew she had other obligations to attend.

Her mother smiled sadly at her and whispered the words that Y/n had been dreading to hear ever since she was a child.

“I have found you a husband.”

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Tags: @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @sidraaaaaaaaa | @mrsnikstan | @barnesxstan | @hi172826 | @alexdarkacademia | @supraveng

[fl3shm4id3n]

𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓓𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓻

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐢 𝐓𝐢, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲.

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ᴡɪꜰᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: child birth, past conflict but mostly fluff.

Author’s note: Since Yi Ti is based of imperial china, I did a deep dive on ancient Chinese morals and stuff. Sorry if a lot of stuff isn’t accurate. 

Part 2 of Like mother, like son

When your parents had heard what was happening in the Red Keep, they welcomed you back home with open arms for as long as you needed, they even allowed you along with Aemond and Aerys to stay with them forever. You father was delighted to know that his grandson will be around his home. That made him really happy.

Once you arrived in Yi Ti, you and your husband will be staying in your bed chambers, it was still the way you kept it, but now a crib was built in it for Aerys to sleep in. While you settled in, you looked around your room, remembering a lot things, you remembered how the maids would come in to wake you up and get you ready for the day. Or how you’d sneak out into the kitchen for some sweet egg buns that were left over. You felt like a child again.

“What’s on your mind my love?” Aemond asked as he sat next to you on the bed, with Aerys in his arms. “Oh nothing its just, I feel like a child again, it’s been so long since I’ve been here” you admited. Your husband smiled and kissed your cheek lovingly “well, you’ll have to teach me some things, the common tongue for sure” he teased, making you giggle. “Of course, I’ll teach you everything”

You did, you taught him the language and how to read in that common tongue. Your language is considered hard but Aemond was a fast learner. You also told him about what kinds of food you would eat, also teaching him how to eat with Chopsticks, it was funny seeing him kind of struggle and getting frustrated, you offered to feed him if he wasn’t able to master holding the chopsticks.

As time when on, your son began to walk and talk or should you said babble he only knew how to say 'mama' or 'baba', it made you happy knowing that your son will grow up in the way you were raised in, not just one culture but both his parents cultures. Even if you were still in the Red Keep you would of thought him anyway.

An unexpected thing has happened, you were with child. Your parents and husband were happy but this worried you a bit. What if what happened at the Red Keep happens again? You thought but you shrugged it off at the moment. You shouldn’t be worried, you should be calm.

Instead of the maids helping you during your pregnancy it your mother, she was pampering just like when you were little. She had a feeling that you’ll have a daughter, you weren’t so sure but she insisted that you will be having a girl. Months went on and your stomach was swelling larger and larger. You felt as if you were going to lay an egg, this pregnancy was a bit more complicated than when you were pregnant with Aerys.

You needed extra assistance with things. Your mother still had the idea of you having a daughter, she was very excited about having a granddaughter to spoil just like your father spoils Aerys.

Then the day came, the day you knew very well, of you bringing your babe into the world. This time it was painful, way more painful. You felt as if your body was on fire, also feelings as if scales were burning you skin. It was painful. Then finally your babe was out. This time it is a girl, your mother was right, a healthy baby girl.

After she had been cleaned up and handed to you, her head was covered in white hair with a little streak of dark hair. Once your husband was allowed in, he was happy knowing that you and the babe were okay. Your mother was practically jumping with happiness with your father since you had another healthy babe. When your daughter was able to open her eyes, her right eye was a lilac purple and her left eye was the same dark shade as yours.

Aemond got a hold of his daughter, looking at her closely. Seeing that just like his son, she shared your features, those being your eyes, your nose, your lips and the same color of your skin. A small tear ran down his cheekbone “she’s beautiful” he said, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “What shall we name her?” you asked still exhausted from the labor. “ Aelora” Aemond said as he wiped the tear of his cheek. You smiled seeing your husband hold his daughter. Then Aerys walked in with a maid trailing behind him.

“Mama!” he shreeked running towards you, climbing on the bed and laying next you. You giggled as he managed to get on the bed and hugged you. “Hello my sweet boy” you said as you hugged him back and removing some hair away from his face for you to kiss his forehead. “Meet Aelora, your sister” Aemond said making his way towards the bed, sitting on your left since your son sat on your right.

Aerys leaned over to get a look at the infant. He smiled as he gently poked her cheek making her fuzz a bit. Your mother was in tears of happiness seeing the small family sitting on the bed.

After, once you had got a bath and changed into a pink hanfu, you fed Aelora before putting her to sleep. When she fell asleep, you laid her on the crib that was still installed in your room. Aerys was napping on the bed as well. You sat next him trying not to make much noise to wake him. Making yourself comfortable, you groaned by the pain of the afterbirth. You placed a hand on your stomach trying to sooth the pain a bit, you were used to this but this time it felt a bit more painful.

“How is my lovely wife doing?” you turned seeing your husband coming in. You smiled at him as he approached you, adjusting your pillow so that you can lay back. “I’m alright” you said as he sat on the chair that was pulled next to the bed, taking your right hand into his, gently kissing it. “You did amazing” he admitted, you sighed as you then spoke “I might end up gaining some weight” you admitted, feeling your stomach, every time you had given birth, it felt as if your stomach had been growing. Even after you gave birth, you noticed how you had gain a bit of weight, not only that but you had got more stretch marks.

Aemond leans over kissing your stomach “that’s normal love, I’ll still love you if you did.” He said making you smile. “I sent a raven to Helaena, letting her know of her niece. I miss her along with my niece and nephews” you admitted. Your sister by law was a very good person, she deserved the world in your opinion. She was there during your pregnancy, she was also the only person in the Red Keep who didn’t believe in those accusations, she was actually delighted when she would hold Aerys when he was still a babe.

“We should invite her, I’m sure she’ll love it here” he said as you nodded. “I agree, she might find some new bugs for her collection.” You smiled, it would be nice having her here. “I’m sure she’ll love spending time here” he said smiling. He missed his beloved sister, along with his niece and nephews. One of these days he will fly to the Red Keep to see his mother, but his first priority is his family. You and his children.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday Game

Tagged by @wannab-urs @frenchiereading @megamindsecretlair @pedroshotwifey

Thank you all tagging me 🥰 You all know I always have ideas, the problem is usually follow through. 😂 and completion.

Step one: Post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

Step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on, then prioritize the one with the most votes.

Step three: Ask me about my WIPs! I've got lots of lore to share + more snippets, etc.

My March Spring Prompts! I’m really enjoying doing them this month. I’ve been trying to include as many different Pedro and Oscar characters as possible with some connecting drabbles. 🥰

A sample of part two of "The Lake between Us" (Thank you all for enjoying part one, I didn't quite expect such a response for it. Should I make a tag list for it? 🤔) Ezra AU x plus size OFC - name in future parts:

Things were tenuous at first but they worked out she’s to call him ‘Uncle’ or Mr. Ezra. It worked better in social situations and she became his little ‘Birdie.’ Scaling down the jobs he took on to mitigate risk was a challenge and were worth less but he had to live not only for himself now. The pair moved around some before he enrolled her in school in Louisiana but ensured that he taught her when she came home in the evenings and on the weekends. The child hated the extra lesions, but it enabled her to be leagues ahead of her peers as far as studies went. Ezra was determined not to suffer another fool and would do what he could so that Cee wouldn’t follow in her father’s steps of idiocy. The results of his care, diligence and support was realized at both her high school graduation which he had never imagined attending anyone’s graduation except his own and to travel with his charge to see the college she’d chosen.

Nuestras canciones (Our Songs) Santiago Garcia x Amalia (plus size OFC) @reallyrallyauthor liked my Santiago spring prompt for today so I felt motivated to finally write another part to this mini-series:

Santiago saw a woman by herself lost in the music, the glow from her skin from perspiration. He didn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t make his way over to her so he did, but he waited until she opened her eyes again and was surprised by him. She laughed and apologized where he told her there was no reason to. Holding his hands out, she peered down and slid her fingers along his palms. The last song died down and the next started, it was slower, sensual, intimate. Garcia interlocked his fingers with hers as they moved back and forth, step by step. His eyes met hers, pulling one of her hands toward him and placing it on his shoulder. His palm found a place on her hip as his lips skimmed her forearm up to her shoulder, pulling her closer. They didn’t say anything as they moved in sync. Once the music ended this time, they stepped outside so they could hear each other speak. By the time they finally exchanged phone numbers, the club was emptying out and Amalia looked toward her friends as did Santiago. The pair had spoken about the dancing, club, food, drinks, if they were single, music and a few bad jokes. Well, between the both of them, quite a few bad jokes. 

My third WIP is one that I choose to blame @mysterious-moonstruck-musings since she fancies herself a sweet Dieter. So I gotta deliver because this is what she wants apparently. 🤭 I have vibes and two paragraphs at this point. Basically, you meet Dieter through one of his PA (because he's got 4 or 5 personal assistants who keeps track?) and he finds drawn to you? Was it crocs? Was it pizza? Was it a two am dance party to Paramore and Linkin Park? Maybe it was all of them or something else entirely? I'll work it out.

My last WIP is one I've been kicking around for a bit. It's a WIP I have with Marcus Pike. I've been dabbling him after a shooting or passing his firearm recertification exam and having PTSD (because I haven't tortured a Pedro character recently 👀) This one is also vibes, still working it out. I started mentioning therapy in my March prompts and it snowballed into this WIP.

This is what I have this week. Poor Javi G's outline still isn't vibing with me. I am going to figure it out though. 😭

Let me know if you have any questions about any of them. 🤗

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @morallyinept @inept-the-magnificent @covetyou @chronically-ghosted @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @gemmahale @schnarfer @romanarose @perotovar @soft-girl-musings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tinytinymenace @alltheglitterandtheroar @drawingdroid @yourcoolauntie @trulybetty @hannibals-favourite-meal @thefrogdalorian @gasolinerainbowpuddles

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas barrow x teen!reader - a broken promise

Part two:

You had been warned by everybody to keep Thomas at arms length, and you were doing that to everybody, especially Thomas.

You had been working for a month now, and you had done well in avoiding the man, you left as soon as he entered a room or you refused to talk to him if he spoke to you.

Walking down the stairs, you stopped when you saw Thomas and you pushed yourself against the wall, eyes glued to the floor.

“You’ve been wanted away from me.” He said.

You never replied to him.

“You know, you shouldn’t go around believing everything people tell you (Y/N).”

You stayed quiet and he stepped up a step and you did the same.

“How about we start over?”

You glanced at him and you looked away, quickly shaking your head.

You rushed down the steps and behind him to quickly get away and you stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at them.

Thomas looked down at you.

“I just want to help you.”

You shook your head.

Thomas took a deep breath and sighed heavily.

You looked around and scurried away, and it wasn’t long until Thomas found you hiding away in the boot cupboard and he walked in, closing the door he grabbed some shoes and sat down opposite you.

You looked at the laces on the shoes you were supposed to be cleaning and you furrowed your brows a little bit.

Thomas flicked his eyes up to you.

“Just tuck them in.”

You ignored when he said and carried on staring at the shoes.

Taking them, he tucked the laces in and handed the shoes back and you looked at him briefly.

“I gather they told you horror stories about me? To stay away? Keep me at a distance?” He asked.

You set the shoe in your hand back down and nodded your head as you looked at everything laid in front of you.

Anna had explained the process of buffing Lady Mary’s shoes to you, but you still had absolutely no idea what you were doing.

Thomas set the boots he was working on aside and picked up another pair and sat back down at the table.

He set his boots on the table and he looked at you.

“You have no idea what you’re doing do you?”

You slowly shook your head.

Thomas sighed and he moved his chair around and he sat next to you, and he explained what everything was and what it was for.

“Just copy what I’m doing.”

So you did, you mirrored his movements, just like you were taught to when you were a child, how to mirror peoples actions.

And pretty quickly you got the hang of it, and you were able to finish both of them before Thomas finished the boots he was working on.

“You’re a fast learner.” He said.

You sat nothing and you set the shoes to the side and put all the things you were using away in the cabinet.

“It’s rude not to say thank you.”

You looked at Thomas and looked away.

“Thank you..” you whispered.

You went to leave and Thomas stood up, placing his hand on the door to stop you and you backed away a few steps.

“People have opinions of me, I know they do. But I should prefer it if you would build your own opinion of me (Y/N), and not let them sway your thoughts.”

You backed around the table and Thomas watched you very carefully.

“You’re scared of me.” He said.

You said nothing and that was all the confirmation Thomas needed.

He stepped away from the door.

“Go.”

He opened the door and you all but rushed past him in order to get out of the room.

Thomas sat back down, trying to figure out why you would be scared of him. He knew you were skittish around people, but you were actually scared of him.

Was it something someone told you?

He had no idea.

And he began to carefully watch you.

Watching how you would dart around not just him everybody, but you kept extra care when you had to pass him.

You only really spoke quietly to Anna and Mrs Hughes, and even then it wasn’t often, and when you weren’t needed you just vanished.

“She really is a mystery.” Mrs Patmore said.

“Who?” Mr Carson asked.

“(Y/N), I asked her if she wanted to come inside for tea but she’s just sat on a log outside.”

“Outside? Its nearly dark.” Mrs Hughes said.

“I worry that girls had a some hard upbringing.” Anna said.

Everybody looked at her.

“You’re all thinking it as well.”

Thomas listened from around the corner to what they were saying it.

“Well, I suppose she does behave rather peculiar, but is that any excuse for us to judge how she was raised?” Mr Carson asked.

“Well, no. But I do agree with Anna, (Y/N)s always so scared of everybody. Perhaps we can try work on gaining her trust?” Mr Bates asked.

They all mumbled to themselves.

“I think she’s a lovely girl.” Daisy said.

Thomas pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the door leading outside, and he stepped out, closing it behind him as he pulled out a cigarette.

Just like Mrs Patmore said, you were sat in a log on the gravel, hands cupped together as you looked into them.

Thomas lit his cigarette and you looked up at him before looking back down.

“Do you not fancy a cup of tea?” Thomas asked.

You shook your head and raised your hands a little to look at whatever you were holding and Thomas furrowed his brows.

“What do you have?”

You got up and you walked over to him with your hands cupped together, and when you were close enough you stopped and opened your hands again.

“Bee.” You said softly.

“Where on earth did you find a bee? How did you catch it?”

You cupped your hands together again.

“It’s sick…”

“How do you know?”

You shrugged a little bit and walked back over to the log and you sat back down.

Thomas took a drag of his cigarette.

“Will you kill it?” He asked.

You quickly shook your head.

“No, we don’t hurt bees..” you said softly.

You looked at Thomas before looking away.

He stomped his cigarette out and walked over, standing a few feet away from you as he looked down at you.

“What will you do with it?”

You shrugged again, and you both looked over as the door opened.

“Is Thomas bothering you?” Mrs Hughes asked.

You shook your head and looked in your hands.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“She’s somehow found a bee.” Thomas said.

“Good heavens (Y/N) you can’t go picking things like that up throw it in the grass.”

You quickly shook your head and stood up.

“She says it’s sick and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do with it.” Thomas explained.

Mrs Hughes looked at him confused and he shrugged his shoulders a little bit.

“Well, can you make it better?” Mrs Hughes asked.

You nodded your head.

“How?”

“Put some sugar in water..”

Thomas and Mrs Hughes shared another look.

“Thomas go tell Mrs Patmore to make you a cup of sugar water and bring it out with a spoon.”

“What do I tell her?”

“Just tell her it’s for (Y/N).”

Thomas walked away and Mrs Hughes walked over, standing next to you, and you stood up, showing her the bee and she stepped away.

“I don’t like bees very much.”

You nodded your head and pulled it away.

“Do you like bees?”

“I like animals..”

“I see, do you have a favourite animal?”

Mrs Hughes wondered if this was a chance they could use to get to know you a little better.

You glanced at her then back to your new friend, and you shook your head a little bit.

Thomas came back out and you sat down, holding the bee in one hand, you set the cup on the ground and put some of the water on a spoon, and set it on the ground, setting the bee on it.

You watched it in fascination, carefully watching it, and a few others came out to see what was going on, all of them water the little bee.

After a few minutes, you picked up the bee and set the spoon in the cup, and you walked over to some plants, setting the bee on a leaf.

“Bye bee…” you whispered.

You wondered back over to the log and you picked up the cup, holding it carefully.

“What happens now?” Thomas asked.

“He rests, then flies away…”

“And it’ll work?” Daisy asked.

You nodded your head and she smiled brightly.

“Wow, do you know a lot about animals?”

You shrugged a little bit and looked around.

Without another word you wondered back inside and Mrs Hughes sighed softly.

“Well, that was something.” She said.

“She’s got a passion, you can’t fault her for that.” Anna said.

Everybody went inside and like always you were gone, the cup and spoon had been washed and you had vanished somewhere.

The next morning you were sitting at the table waiting for breakfast and Thomas sat next to you, and you moved chairs.

“How do you know that sugar water would help?” He asked.

You sat nothing, and you stared at the piano in the corner of the room, so Thomas looked as well.

“Can you play piano?”

You shook your head.

“Do you know what a piano is?”

“Don’t be rude Thomas.” Daisy said.

She set your tea in front of you and smiled at you, and you whispered a small thank you.

“I’m not, I’m just curious.”

Daisy turned to you.

“Have you seen a piano before?”

You shook your head and you got up, walking over to it as you inspected it carefully.

“You just press the keys down, like this.”

Daisy pressed a key down, and you jumped at the noise, shaking your head a little to try and rid of the sheer loudness of it.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Daisy panicked.

You shook your head, rubbing your ears with your hands as you backed away from the piano.

“(Y/N)?” Daisy asked.

“Daisy give her a minute.” Thomas said.

They both watched you, and you removed your hands from your ears, and you walked back over to your chair and sat down.

“Not a fan of music then?”

You didn’t reply to Thomas and he frowned a little bit.

You sipped at your tea and you rubbed one of your ears again.

Thomas watched you carefully, and you finally stopped, and you sipped your tea again.

Thomas said nothing and he went back to reading the paper again, and you just sat there in your own little world.

“Her ladyship is asking for (Y/N), and Thomas you’re needed in the drawing room as well.” Mrs Hughes said.

You got up to follow Mrs Hughes, heard racing in your chest.

You had been here for a month now, and you had yet to meet the family, and you were incredibly nervous about doing so.

Thomas walked next to you and he looked at you.

“Look them in the eye, and address them as my Lord and my lady..” he whispered.

You nodded your head and followed them both into the room, looked around at the two people inside.

“Ah, Thomas, Mr Carson has things to do so you can serve the tea.”

Mrs Hughes led you over to a woman and you looked at her.

“Hello my lady..” you whispered.

“I’ve heard you are quite the bee catcher.” Lady Cora said.

You nodded your head.

“There’s one by the window, and we can’t see to be rid of it, could you help?” Lord Grantham asked.

“Yes my lord.”

You walked over to the window he showed you too and you looked over it, listening and you heard the buzzing a few windows away so you walked over.

Reaching your hand out, you held it up and wait for the been to crawl onto your hand, and you brought it back down, covering it with your other hand.

“Wow, and you can do it that easily?” Lord Grantham asked you.

“Yes my lord.”

“Well, thank you.”

You nodded your head and rushed away to release the creature, and Thomas watched you in curiosity.

Not everybody would just walk up to a bug and happily touch it, and not everybody seemed so passionate about them either but you did.

And it gave him a little more insight on you, and a new possible way for him to get you to interact with him, so he added it to the list of strange things about you he was making in his head.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was searching for at the moment, but he was sure that all of these strange behaviours you had were linked by the same thing.

That evening when he went outside to smoke he found you sat in the same place as last night.

“Another bee?” He asked.

You shook your head and looked at him.

You got up and walked over to him, holding something else in your hands this time, and he recognised it as a deck of playing cards.

“Do you want to play a game?”

“A game?..”

Thomas reached out and you flinched back, and he raised his hands.

“Alright, alright. Have you played card games before?”

You shook your head.

“Where’d you find them?”

“Mine…”

“I see, okay. Well, how about I teach you an easy game?”

You titled your head at him a little in interest, and Thomas realised that was his way in. Your curiosity about things, if he could teach you about things you didn’t know, he could hopefully get to know about you and who you actually were.

You quickly shook your head and held the cards to his chest.

“Okay. If you change your mind I’ll teach you one.”

You nodded and sat back on the log looking at the playing cards in your hand, and Thomas sighed to himself.

There was something definitely off about you, and it seemed so familiar, like he’d heard it or read about it somewhere but he wasn’t sure what it was, and he wanted to know

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eighteen

Back in Clontarf, I perch at the gleaming, marble island while Jude prepares dinner. I watch him doing it with undisguised interest, because he cooks the way that I imagine he makes art, fully absorbed, with precision and confidence, and completely and utterly in the flow of his own enjoyment. He connects his iPhone to a Bluetooth speaker and plays music for a while, until Ivy bursts in and complains that she can’t focus on her homework with all of the noise.

He switches it off for her, but even in the silence he moves around to the beat of the music in his head, with a smile on his face that only endures the more stupid questions I ask him about what he’s doing. He’s making a spice mix in a pestle and mortar, he’s coating the fillets in flour, that’s actually rose water, not vanilla, yes, he taught himself how to do this, those flowers are actually totally edible, they’re not just there to look good, so a shallot is actually stronger than an onion, that’s why he’s using it. He prepared a lot of it earlier, marinating fresh fish in harissa for hours, and par boiling the potatoes so that they’d be oven ready by the time we got home from visiting Jen, and when I ask him where he found the time to do all of this he explains that he was simply procrastinating, because he doesn’t want to write his thesis. 

We eat at the dining table with Ivy, who shovels the food into her mouth in the span of about five minutes despite her complaints about it tasting bad, and gives a series of very bored, one word answers to his questions about school in between mouthfuls. He reminds her that she should practise for her piano lesson tomorrow and tells her that he can’t collect her from afterschool hockey so she’ll have to get the bus. It occurs to me that this is perhaps the most un-sibling like relationship I’ve ever witnessed. Perhaps it’s a symptom of their age gap. 

“Where’re your parents tonight?” I query once Ivy rushes off to her bedroom to reconvene whatever teen girl things were interrupted by dinner, and he looks down at his plate. “Working late again.”

“Seems like they really like to work.”

“They sure do. Or they really like not having to be in this house.”

He’s said things like this to me before, these kind of vaguely troubling statements about his parents in very casual, matter of fact ways, as though they’re entirely absent and have no love for each other whatsoever, and this is something he finds normal. I’ve never asked him about it before, and something I’ve never quite been able to handle the idea of broaching, but now, since we’re… kind of, sort of going out with each other it suddenly feels important to know whether his expectations for his own relationships are different to his parents’ strange marriage.  

“What is it about them?”

“We don’t have to discuss these grim things about my family, it’s alright.”

“We don’t have to, but I think I’d like to know about it.”

He pushes his food thoughtfully around his plate. “They just shouldn’t have gotten married, I suppose. I think they meant well initially but it’s ultimately done more damage than good.” He glances towards the closed door and up towards the ceiling, where his sister is, and lowers his voice a little bit. “I think they’ll probably get a divorce as soon as Ivy finishes school.”

“Oh.”

“I’m the reason they’re married, and she’s the reason they’re still together. They had this amazing idea at one point that having another child would solve all of their issues, but now they’ve just trapped themselves in a bind for an extra nine years. They could be blissfully divorced by now, but they won’t do it until she’s moved out, because they don’t want to disrupt her schooling.” 

“How old were they when you were born?”

“Nineteen and twenty one.” 

“Oh, God.”

“Yep, big mistake. Whoops.” he tosses a chunk of potato into his mouth and leans back in his chair. “Mom finished school and went to stay with her aunt in America, took up a job at a department store in Albuquerque, hooked up with a med student at a bar on her first month there, and well…” He throws up his hands in mock celebration. “Here I am!”

“I suppose that being unmarried with a child wasn’t really an option for your mother at the time.” 

“No, not at all, I mean, she had come from catholic Ireland. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to live at home again unless she married the man from that bar.” The way he speaks about his father is strange, as though despite his presence in their lives, he’s still some random, nameless med student from San Bernardino. 

“And then what?” 

“Well, then my dad continued school, and my mom began her studies and my great aunt took care of me on and off until my dad got his doctorate degree. Then they had Ivy, on purpose, by the way, and when she was a baby we moved back here.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

I breathe out a laugh. “You’re so cagey.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah it’s like you don’t want to talk about them, or your home life, like, ever.”

He doesn’t look like he’s all that bothered by my interrogation, he just gives me this self-effacing little smile. “Come on, Evie. It’s because this stuff is boring.” 

“I don’t think it’s boring at all.” 

“Well, okay. They didn’t want to be together, they shouldn’t have had kids, and they act like they never did because they barely parented either one of us. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at letting things drop?”

“Yeah, loads. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at talking about serious things?”

“Of course.” The corner of his mouth quirks up and he lifts my arm from the table to kiss the inner part of my wrist. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

“Yes, you. Tell me what it was like for you when you were growing up.” 

“I’ve told you loads about my childhood already though.” 

“Yeah, you have, and I loved hearing about how badly behaved you were and what it felt like to live in America, but I wish you’d get into the guts of it, the real stuff.”

“The real stuff?”

“The stuff that makes you so clearly sad. You get that look on your face whenever it comes up.”

He hasn’t let go of my wrist, and now his thumb is gently stroking the skin that he kissed a moment before while he stares out into the garden through streak-free glass patio doors, and he chews on his lip before deciding to speak. “Well, when Ivy was born I stopped being a kid, I suppose. My parents didn’t have a lot of interest in caring for either of us, and I was lucky, because my great aunt in Albuquerque did all of that for them when I was little, but when we moved here the support system really fell away. Nobody had considered that. We have my mom’s parents, but they’re about as warm as she is, and even though we’d be dumped over to theirs at the weekends, it wasn’t like we had especially fun or memorable times. Usually we’d get some bucket of crap toys from the seventies and whatever was on the three TV channels that they had. They were okay, but Ivy was a really nervous toddler. She didn’t like being around unfamiliar people, to the point that our grandmother would have to roll her bottles down the hallway to where she was hiding at the bottom of the stairs so that she’d drink anything at all. She just screamed whenever either of our grandparents came near her. It just wasn’t working out, so we eventually stopped having to go, and by then, when I was like eleven, it just made sense that I’d look after her instead.”

“What did that involve?”

“Everything. Feeding her, dressing her, putting her to bed, shopping for food, toys, eventually bringing her to the creche. She used to go to the childminders while I was at school, but only until I finished at three or four o’clock, and then I’d swing by and get her. A child collecting another child, like, I don’t know if they’d let that kind of thing happen anymore, but it was a small family run childminders, the kind of lawless place where they have this one old granny looking after about twelve children in her house and everything and anything goes. My mom used to come home and cook dinner for a while, but she was delighted when I got old enough to do that for her too. It meant she could stay out of the house for longer and do whatever she used to do. Have affairs or whatever.” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean, I really don’t know if that was ever the case but I wouldn’t be that surprised. Everything got really confined because of Ivy, you know? I always had to be home, and helping, and collecting and living my life on this schedule while all the other teenagers were just being blissfully selfish and… just teenagers.”

“But you had time to yourself, surely?”

“Yeah, at night when my parents were finally home from work, but I mean, yeah, it wasn’t about not having time to do hobbies or hang out with my friends, it was about having to do it at all. It was about having to consider those things. Nobody should have to parent their siblings, it was really stifling and really unfair. If my parents wanted another child then they should have been prepared to take care of her. You can’t just offload that responsibility onto the older child. I resented it, and I still do.”

I spear my fingers into the side of his hair and run my hand down the back of his head. “That’s why you went to Berlin.” 

“I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have ever had to.”

“Right.” He hesitates and his teeth rake over his lower lip, pulling the skin until it’s taut and white. “I just feel like going to Berlin was the most selfish thing I could have possibly done though.”

“No way.” I say. “It forced your parents to do what they should have been doing all along, and look after your sister.” 

“Yeah but it didn’t really do that. I look at Ivy now, and she’s doing a lot of those things I used to do for her all on her own. My parents never stepped up like I hoped they would, so she’s just becoming another teenager with too many responsibilities, and parents that will divorce as soon as they can and leave her without a solid base to come home to when she’s in college. And then, you know, on the other hand I think about Jen, and how bad everything has become for her and I know that if I’d stayed, and if I’d been here for her then maybe I could have-”

“It’s no use thinking that, Jude. You had to be on your own for once. You can’t hold up the whole world on your shoulders.”

“I’m selfish.” His voice is acidic, and the moment I feel his fingers loosen on me I grab a hold of his sleeve, because all of a sudden it feels vitally important to keep a connection between us.

“You didn’t get a proper childhood. I’d be even more selfish if I were you. You need to be doing the things that you want to do, seeing the world, partying with your friends, all of that stuff that you’ve been doing for the last four years. It’s all food for your soul.” 

“You’re too forgiving of me. It’s okay to say that I’ve been generally inconsiderate.”

“You’re way too hard on yourself.” I say quietly. “And you know that’s not true. You’re a good person, and you were always so nice to me, even when I was quiet and shy. You made an effort to talk to me at that time that Jen invited me to that modern art exhibition in Dublin, and you made me feel so included and asked so many questions about me even though I felt so nervous around you both.”

“I feel like that’s the least anyone could have done.” He says sulkily, as though he doesn’t really feel like being talked out of his mood. “The more I dwell on it the more I think there is something seriously wrong with me. Something that should have been figured out a lot earlier, but like, here I am, a twenty two year old, in the final months of my final year at college and I feel a bit… I dunno, lost, or something. I’m floundering, and I don’t really know who I am anymore. I swore I had it figured out at eighteen but now that seems laughable to me.”

“Nobody tells you how weird it is to be in your twenties.” I declare. “They insist that it’s amazing and fun and you’ll have all of this independence, but actually it feels strange and vulnerable, and there’s no rule book about how to navigate your way through it. One day you’re a stupid teenager and the next you live on your own and you have to know how to use the city bus and remember the pin of a debit card.”

“Yeah.” 

“It’s alright that you find it hard, is all I’m saying, and I for one, feel like I truly knew nothing about being an adult. To be honest sometimes I get a bit freaked out by how lost I feel. But then I try not to think about it, and I just go on with my day.”

“That’s your advice?” He says, with the hint of a smile threatening to crack through the gloom. “Just don’t think about it?”

“Probably shouldn’t be, should it?”

“I think that’s terrible advice, Evie.”

“Well that’s all I have for you.”

He leans into me and lightly kisses my jaw before going back to his food, and the featherlight touch of his lips sends shivers right down to my toes. “Well I think we should think about hard things.” He says. “I think that ignoring them only gives them more power, actually.”

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to be processed now. They’re meant for later.”

“How much later?”

“I don’t know. Just later.” I push the last of my dinner onto my fork and into my mouth and try not to feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s watching me like I’m under a spotlight. 

“I just want you to know that if you ever wanted to talk to me about any of the things that happened you in first year then-”

My chair makes a hideous scraping noise against the parquet floor. “Do you have any pictures of you when you were small?” I say, wiping my hands on the thighs of my jeans, and he blinks. “Um. Why?”

“Just when we were talking about your childhood, like,” I stack his empty plate on top of mine. “I was wondering to myself what you might have looked like as a little boy. That’s all.”

“There are some, somewhere yeah. I can root them out if you want.”

“I’d love that, would you mind?” I hastily pack things away in the dishwasher, and I put the plates in crookedly, and I can’t find where the cutlery goes, and Jude is there, and he takes the forks out of my hands and gingerly places them into the sink. 

“It’s fine. Leave it.” He says. “Come into the living room, I’ll get the baby photos out.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[somethin-nice-abt-everymon]

Now for the champion of the kanto Johto area or Lance

For this one given it’s the last of Kanto I’m going to go extra :3

I like his gen 4 design the most tbh tbh

Dad figure 2 (you’ll see dad figure 1 later)

I find Lance really silly

And he’s adopted Silver in my mind bc the kid deserves better

Tbh he’s a comfort character for me given I relate to Silver

I love including him in aus tbh tbh!

Ok now how he interacts with the other elite four members

Starting with Lorelei who he got Dragonite plushes from and he keeps those plushies on a shelf in his living room (they have gotten scratched up with time but he’s can sew so fixes them but one has a star patterned orange patch given Silver’s Sneasel scratched at it so it needed major repairs and was missing a decent spot on its back) (Lance actually taught Silver how to sew while fixing it up)

Next is Will who Lance usually let’s complain about the stolen lunches issue but in all honesty he’s not getting too involved because this more seems like a Will and Karen being friends issue not a workplace issue but he’s told Karen off at least once or twice

Karen is next and she’s usually nice to Lance but they are kind of just coworkers

Bruno is nice but coworkers

Agatha is also nice and Lance really respects her in all honesty

Koga is also nice and him and Lance talk about their kids together happily often

Now MCs

He interacts with Red for around 2 hours of time that they’ve fully been interacting (battling, Red giving champion to him after a few months bc the work of being a champion was a lot) but Lance feels the kid has potential to be the strongest trainer ever possibly

Blue was a simple Blue win but Lance has respect for the kid and Agatha seemed to have a bigger reaction then him to Blue

He’s not met Green

I haven’t read kanto pokespe so I don’t know abt Yellow

Gold also had potential but also handed Lance the role of champion back after less then a week

Silver is Lance’s kiddo and Lance is trying to help Silver through his trauma and be a good dad figure for the kid (I’ll probably talk abt this more when I get to Silver :3)

Now how about other champions?

Starting with Steven who Lance usually lowers his voice around given he understands Steven is autistic and Lance doesn’t want any chance of overwhelming him

Lance has interacted with Wallace a few times but not enough to exactly be friends but Wallace did ask him “Shouldn’t Dratini be a water type it lives in water after all?” and Lance has thought about that ever since

Lance doesn’t talk to Cynthia much

Lance and Alder are buds 100% especially when Alder thinks about adopting N and Lance is just like “Of course you should! Kids of evil team leaders need guidance the most” and now they talk about it together

He doesn’t interact with Diantha much

He’s battled Leon a couple times but they aren’t really friends exactly?

He’s probably no longer champion once Geeta is champion of Paldea logically but they’d get along tbh

Now for a surprise all of his gym leaders and how he interacts with them!

Brock is first and Brock hasn’t interacted with Lance much but Lance has pet Brock’s onix

Lance also hasn’t talked to Misty much but he did ruffle her hair once (Misty stared at him afterwards)

Surge and Lance have interacted a couple times and they vibe

Lance actually always asks Erika how Celadon is doing and sometimes stares at her disappointed when she’s gossiping (Erika usually stops gossiping till he leaves then the drama is back on!)

I’m putting Janine here and Lance always tells her she did a great job when she brings snacks to the league building

Sabrina and Lance are coworkers and don’t interact much

Blaine has given Lance a few quizzes and Lance went along with them

Lance hates Giovanni with every bone in his body

Falkner is chill but they don’t interact much

Buggy has had the hair ruffleddddd (Bugsy actually giggled especially because at least one twig fell out of his hair)

Whitney scares even Lance slightly given if fairy types existed in gen 2 she’d be a fairy type trainer but Lance also checks in with her bc she’s like 16 and the rest of her family moved to Hoenn

Morty and Lance have talked a few times but not too often

Lance once had to referee Chuck and Bruno having a actual fight and Lance just sighed

Jasmine is really chill but they don’t talk much especially because something feels weird about Jasmine and non human but Lance can’t put his finger on it……something feels out of place with her (she’s a alien in my mind btw or a Owlrian in particular)

Pryce and Lance chill but Lance tries to not disturb him too much

Lance and Claire are siblings and no one can change my mind tbh tbh

Now just others of the same type specialty of dragon

Drake and Lance get along quite well but just don’t talk much weirdly?

Drayden is a another case of getting along but not talking much

He’s not interacted with Iris before

If he could pick one dragon trainer to talk to and only them it would be Drasna given if you aren’t going to battle her she is so nice!

Zinnia has actually met Lance and bit him before scurrying off and he was so confused

Ryuki has not met him

Raihan is too much of a fan to approach

Lance really enjoys any time him and Hassel interact tbh given Hassel is really nice

That’s all I hope y’all enjoyed Kanto given Johto is up :3

[davinaclaire16]

Wings of Dusk pt 6

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talk Of abuse

A week, it had been a week since you had arrived home. It was surprisingly easy to fall back into a rhythm and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed being back home with your family. You had gotten to meet Rhysands mate Feyre, finding out she was High lady had taken you aback and was hard to swallow at first but she was great and Az helped you realize that it was something Rhys had made sure of to help break past wrongs and idiotic traditions, and you truly were proud of him.

After sitting in meetings you realized how true a threat hybern really was. Even sent letters to Helion and set up extra precautions and new regimens for day court troops to follow. Your presence here had proved to be successful for the lord of day and You were almost forgetting that being here,..being home meant giving something of yourself away. That is until this very moment.

“Y/N please if you would just do this.. I think we could seriously secure Autumn at the meeting.”

“I will do no such thing Rhys. I refuse to be yet another pawn in one of your schemes.”

Here you were once again being given yet another order that would further undermine your true capabilities.

“Y/N everyone is aware of the feelings you evoke in the Eldest Vanserra. If you give him just an inkling of an idea that the two of you could form a partnership he would certainly convince Beron to join our side.”

Your brother was not wrong. Eris and Beron had actually came to your Father before he went to keir about an arranged marriage with you. However your father laughed in Berons face and told him to come back “when you have someone who is worthy of my daughter” he had said

“No Rhys what your implying is for me to seduce him and When he wants to make a deal or solidify the “Alinance” to ensure he isn’t being played. what then? Would you have me betrothed to him as well?…Not to mention I’m not going to that meeting as a member of this court.”

“You will always be seen as the princess of this court and you know it. Anything that could get Beron on board is worth the shot.”

“I said no Rhysand. Find somebody else or ask for my help in which what I’m trained to do and my skillset are actually of use. Now what I will do however is see Devlon with you to discuss his Illyrian troops otherwise we have no other business with one another.”

Rhysand watched as you turned on your heels and walked out. He knew he should of said something, stopped you, or just dropped it but he didn’t. Rhysand could feel the distance and tension between the two of you. Something he hated but didn’t know how to repair.

On your way out Az had caught your trail and you could tell he knew something was off. The mother had to be playing some cruel trick on you. In the week that you’d been back home anytime you were fed up or ready to leave again and never come back Az was always right around the corner. You were sure he could only think you to emotional at this point. The thought alone made you sick to your stomach. Showing emotion, rather being vulnerable was never your strong suit. You saw it as a weakness or at least that is what your father taught you.

“Y/N don’t let them see you falter. If they think for one second that you aren’t the image and definition of collected you’ve already lost.”

“You ok sunshine?”

“Yes I’m fine. I’m just not sure when the switch happened.”

“What switch?” Az was calm and focused on any signal you were giving him to what had you so tense. His shadow had made him aware of your location and that something was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t indulge his shadows when it came to you because they would become Twice as hard to keep away from you, but anytime his shadow whispered in his ear that you were slightly off he couldn’t help but take off trying to remedy the situation.

“You know the switch….. When did Rhysand stop being my little brother. The one that used to follow me around and beg for my approval for something as trivial as what leathers he should wear that day. When did that stop and become him ordering me around and treating me like I’m the child.”

When did he stop seeing you as someone respectable and capable of anything to someone who’s only skill was that you had a pretty face. When had you being his sister stop being enough for him to care for you. And that your worth to him was equal to what you could do for him. Is what you really wanted to say.

“Sunshine a lot of has changed. He isn’t the same person you knew when you went under the mountain.”

“Az he was like this a few months before he sent me under the mountain. But it doesn’t matter after the meeting I’ll be back on my way to day.”

You had said it so matter of fact. Almost like you were waiting to get out of there and Az felt like he had just gotten you back. He had no plans on letting you slip through his fingers so quickly, and from the way Azriels shadows tried to reach out and grab you told him they didn’t either.

“Let’s go to Devlons camp Y/N.” Was all Azriel offered as a reply, so you just sighed and pushed the incessant thoughts that refused you piece deeper down.

Az used his shadows to essentially winnow the two of you into WindHaven. Cassain and Rhys had left before you so they were not so patiently waiting.

“Devlon should be meeting with us soon.” Rhys gestured inward toward the two illyrians sparing with each other. You took a look around the camp you used to know like the back of your hand. Truly nothing much has changed the women still walked around in fear and submissiveness making sure to keep there eyes down cast. While the men walked around drowning in their own arrogance. The smell of blood and sounds of grunts filled the air around you. The cold threatened eat away at your skin even through your pristine white leathers.

Being at this camp was like stepping right into your childhood. The camp still exuded nothing but cold and despair.

While looking around something or rather someone did catch your eye, a young girl with chocolate brown hair was sneaking around the outskirts of the town. She looked unsure in her footing almost terrified. If you didn’t know any better you’d say she was getting ready to run. You were about to make your way over to her when Devlon had spoke and distracted you for a split second. When you had turned back she was gone.

“High Lord what a displeasure seeing you and your band of rejects.” You hated Devlon with your entire being he was everything you hated in a person wrapped into one.

“Oh you have someone new with you this time around. Well Rhysand who’s the pretty little thing it white.” About that time you turned back around to face Devlon head on. To say you felt overjoyed that when he caught sight of you, the man who never had any issue finding words now stood before you dumbfounded would be an understatement.

“What Devlon? Cat got your tongue. Who knew a woman could still evoke such a reaction from you.” Hatred and Pride laced everyone of your words. Something that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Here I thought we had all been blessed by your death.”

“I see your still an arrogant Dick.”

“You little bitch! You don’t have daddy to hide behind anymore so I’d watch what comes out of that pretty mouth. Or else I could think of a dozen things your mouth would be better suited for” You could feel Azriel stiffen beside you and watched as his fist clenched, Heard the low growl that came from him. It was all enough to send shivers down your spine. The shadow singer always jumped to your defense but it could easily be that he hates Devlon just as much if no more than you do.

“Enough Devlon.” Rhysand shot a warning. A warning that was cold and empty, one that left no question what would happen if Devlon ignored it. You had forgotten that here and Hewn city the two of you had to be completely different people. Ruthless and cold. Well Rhysand had to be different. You were always the most like your father out of your two siblings. Something you tried with all of your will to forget. But your father had never let you begin to.

“You’re just like me. Rhysand is weak, he cares to deeply about others. He doesn’t have what it takes, doesn’t have the same cold and Ruthless capabilities as you do my sweet. Me and you We could burn down city’s. Be vicious and unwavering, that’s how you command power.

“We are here to make sure your troops are prepared” Cassain said

“They are always ready to shed blood you don’t need to be worried about such things”

“Well seeing that neither of the warriors in the ring can pivot correctly on their right foot. Clearly leaving a vulnerable opening that could cost them there lives I’d disagree.” You spit out while pointing toward to the Illyrians who were skilled from what you could tell but lacked the fundamental basics. Your brother, Cas And Az quickly assessed and you could tell they thought the same.

“And you think you could do better? Tell me Y/N how out of practice are you.”

“Devlon we both know I could easily do better. I could easily take you.” You knew you had hit a cord, could see it land and got to sit back and watch the child of a man in front of you unfold.

“You little-“ within seconds Devlon had drawn his blade and swung a blade at you and you had simply pivoted on your right foot with a smirk.

“That would be the correct way to pivot by the way Devlon” you taunted.

Rhysand had stepped forward prepared to put Devlon in his place but you had simply held your hand to Rhys chest and stated.

“No Rhys if Devlon truly wants to play this out I’ll gladly step into the ring with him.”

“This is ridiculous you’re nothing but an over privileged little bitch.” Devlon was clearly pissed and at this point his screaming had drawn the attention of his camp.

“Must I remind you who you’re speaking to Devlon.” Azriels shadows swirled around him as he spoke the very image of death and mystery.

“Are going to keep stalling Devlon or are you going to meet me in that ring.”

You and Devlon were now in the sparing ring neither of you wielded weapons it was a battle in hand to hand combat.

Devlon was a skilled fighter sure but he had never been forced into perfection. You easily dodged his attacks, even toyed with him a while figured you could tire him out a little and then land the one punch you would need to bring him down. You moved smoothly every move and breath you took a picture of perfection. Had separated your emotions from the task in front of you like the true Valkyrie within you, and were ready to play dirty if Devlon did like an Illyrian.

“Are you going to just keep running away or are you going to throw a punch.” He snarled

“I certainly will Devlon just waiting for my moment.”

What you said only further fueled his rage and it was that moment that you saw it, your moment. Devlon had been so caught up in his emotions that when he launched his attack on you he left his right side unguarded. You took the opportunity and grabbed his left arm and kneed Devlon in his right side. Which gave you enough time to twist his arm and bring him to his knees. You now stood partially behind him and to his side hold his left arm his back.

“You look much better on your knees Devlon.” You laughed and Devlon pulled a blade from his side and stabbed it right into your thigh but you only grimaced and within seconds Azriel had tossed a blade your way which you caught and now had pressed against Devlons throat.

“I’d say you lost but in effort not to point out the obvious I won’t.” With that you dropped your stance letting the dagger that was pressed into his throat now safely tucked into your belt. Loosened your grip on his arm and simply kicked over and made your way out of the ring. The stab wound had now turned your leathers red and you pushed through that pain not even letting so much as a wince past your wall.

“Don’t let them see you falter. If they think for one second that you aren’t the image and definition or collected you’ve already lost.”

Your fathers word rang through your ears as you tried to stop the limp that threaten to appear.

“You’re still just a desperate little bitch vying for her daddy’s approval.”

Without turning around you simply stated

“Maybe but I’m bitch with the title of Carynthian. Princess of the night court and now 2nd to High Lord Helion. And all you will ever be is a pathetic male from these dreadful mountains.”

“Tell me Y/N, What’s it like to be Illyrian without any wings?” You stopped dead in your tracks and Devlon knew he had found a weak spot and intended to poke at it until you broke. “Do you know that when I have a rough day I think about how hard you fought against your fate, Dream about the precious screams that left your mouth as your father sawed those feathered wings off your back. Remember the defeated look in your eyes when you realized there was no way out and all of sudden I’m in bliss.” Devlon was up and smiling widely.

Rhysand couldn’t do or say anything about Devlons words by getting involved he could jeopardize his alliance with the illyrian troops but more so if he intervened in any way you would loose all credibility you had just made for yourself in front of all those Illyrian brute that now watched in anticipation. You were possibly and only female they had seen take Devlon on and win, or any Illyrian male for that matter. And Rhysand wasn’t about to make you look weak. Not when he knew with certainty that you had more fierceness in your pinky finger than any of them would ever have

“Y/N walk away he’s not worth your time.” Az was now by your side whispering to you. His shadows slid around your wrist in an attempt to coax you into walking. Rhys and Cassain just held there breath watching and waiting to see what was about to play out, what they’d have to stop. It had almost worked. You had taken another step forward when Devlon spoke.

“Did you know I have a keepsake from that night. I wear it around my neck everyday to remind myself that no matter what High Lord or bitch like you tries to come in and change what’s been done here for centuries they’ll never succeed. That I made the great and terrifying High Lord saw off his own daughters wings.”

You tried to push that anger down inside of you. Tried to keep the rapidly growing power inside of you at bay and keep walking away. But when you turned around and saw what Devlon had pulled out of his shirt all you saw was red.

Tags: @powerfulpantera

@bankerfrog @paasrin @boys-no-books-better

[littledraga]

Fairy Hunting

Baby Tiffany getting a rare free day and going exploring!

It was finally warm enough to go exploring again after a long and cold winter. The first flowers were blooming in the bright sun as a little Tiffany hiked through the trees. Even at all of seven, it was rare for her to have so much time to herself to go exploring. And she wasn’t about to let it go to waste!

All winter Grandpa had told her stories about the fairies in the woods, and she wanted to see them for herself! She knew about the dangerous creatures in the mountains that protected her village. But it wasn’t often she could hear stories about creatures who only wanted to play and have fun!

With a small wooden box under her arm, she excitedly ran off the beaten path to look for the best spot to see a fairy. The fairy hunting box would help her, just like Grandpa told her when he had shown her. She just needed a good spot.

One hour turned to two, then three. By now, Tiffany was in a place she’d never been before. Something she would normally think was exciting, but the trees were so dense she wasn’t sure which way was which anymore. Sitting down on a fallen tree, she set the fairy box down to have a think and figure out how to get home. Though she most definitely didn’t cry. She didn’t sob and scrub her face on her sweater, afraid she wouldn’t find her way back. No, not at all.

And it was while she was certainly not crying that someone noticed her. Someone who’d never seen a child out this way before. And for good reason.

“Children shouldn’t be here, you know,” said a small voice that made Tiffany jump.

Snapping her head up, Tiffany looked around. But she couldn’t see anyone. Something that made her very afraid. So she did as she was always taught when something was amiss. Keep her eyes open and her mouth shut.

“It’s dangerous here. You should go home,” said the voice again. Concerned this time. And closer.

Tiffany tried to pinpoint the voice, looking around and behind her. But still, no one was there. It was rather strange, she thought to herself as she turned around to sit properly again. Only to have a green light glowing in her face.

She let out a high pitched scream and fell back onto the grass and dirt with a thump and a whimper. If they were that close, she was in trouble.

But instead came laughter. Looking up from where she was sprawled in the dirt, Tiffany watched as the tiniest man she had ever seen walked to the edge of the log, surrounded by a green light that seemed to pulse from wings tucked neatly on his back. He laughed as he watched her, hands on his hips.

“Jumpy little thing, ain’tcha?” He teased as Tiffany fumbled back onto her feet. His hair was green as the light around him. Floating up from the wood, he got closer again.

“Ya heard me, didn’t ya?” He asked and flew around her head, making her spin in a circle and giggled when she did.

“I-I did,” she admitted sheepishly. “But I don’t know where here is to leave.”

The little man crossed his arms and sighed. “A bit old ta be gettin’ lost in the woods, aintcha? Kids your size normally know where you’re goin’. Or at least not ta come out this way.”

“I’m only seven!” Yelled Tiffany, her little hands on her hips. “Northsmen are just tall! Not my fault everyone else is short,” she mumbled as her shoulders slumped. It was hard, being a little girl who could only afford boys hand me downs and was already taller than the boys her age.

“A Northsman, huh? I ain’t ever heard of that. You some type of giant? I’ve met those before!” Spinning around Tiffany again, he flew up high and into the branches above her.

“Had to fly this high just so he’d hear me! You gonna be that tall?”

“No!” She giggled as he came back down to spin around her before lounging on the log.

“Northsmen are humans! We just grow extra tall where we come from. Wherever that is.” Her father rarely talked about where he was from after all. No matter how much she begged. He’d just huff and walk away.

“Humans are weird!” He laughed.

“Fairies never get big. Means we can nap anywhere we like. And I can always have the best hiding spot in hide and seek!”

Tiffany gasped and jumped on her feet.

“You’re a fairy!” she shouted.

“A real life fairy, right?” After bringing the fairy hunting kit this far and she didn’t even need it!

Said fairy watched her a moment before falling back in a fit of laughter.

“I am. What did you think I was? I fly?”

“I’ve never seen a fairy! I came out to see one because I’ve never seen one. Grandpa told me lots of stories all winter about fairies and their games. So I wanted to see for myself. So I borrowed his fairy hunting box so I could find you! Well, a fairy anyway.”

While she continued to ramble and rattle away about stories, and something about running into a frong. Or probably a frog. The fairy sat and watched her with a grin. This was why most fairies like children. Who else enjoyed things as much as a child?

“Sounds like you’ve had an adventure! And I’d know, I’ve been on a few myself, you know,” he told her as he moved to sit on her shoulder.

“Lots and lots of them! I could tell you some while we get you home?” He offered.

Tiffany beamed at the offer. Meeting a fairy and getting to hear their stories? It was better than a Giving! She nodded her head so hard her body moved with her. Causing her new friend to yelp and tumble. Luckily, his wings caught him.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Instead of being upset, the fairy laughed as he righted himself.

“Alright, alright. I’ll fly on my own then!” He teased.

“Now, where is home for my tiny giant friend, hm? Which set of humans do you belong to?”

It took Tiffany a few seconds to understand, but when she did she made to point. Pausing only once she remembered she didn’t know the way.

“I’m in Kingspool. The village on the cape. I live up on the cliff.”

“All the way down there?” The fairy whistled. Long walk for a little human.

“We’d better hurry if you want to be home for supper, my tiny giant! But lucky you, I know the way. I’ve fought off a few of your cats,” he laughed as they started back down the mountain and to a path to take his new friend home.

"The cats are mean," she agreed while they walked. She never had much luck with the cats in Kingspool. The ones by the docks were the worst!

"They are!" Laughed the fairy flying just a little ahead to mimic swatting them. "There was a tabby that chased down rabbits day and night!" He complained.

"Couldn't have that. Fat cat ate plenty without being a big bully! Took a while to chase him off. Broke my wing too! I thought I was done for," he whined, sinking a little as he flew.

Tiffany covered her mouth and gasped.

"Oh no! That must have been scary! Our cats get big! Was he going to eat you too?" Adjusting the fairy box, she kept pace with her new friend as he flew a bit ahead to show the way.

"Probably. But luckily for me. I'm smarter than a little bunny," he giggled and spun around.

As Tiffany walked behind the fairy, she leaned closer, excited to hear more. A fairy with stories! What could be better than that? She almost hoped she wouldn’t make it home in time for supper. This was better than anything her mother could make.

“What did you do? Oh, you didn’t hurt them too bad, did you?” Even if they chased her relentlessly, she would feel bad if something bad happened to them.

The fairy laughed hard. His head tilted back so far that he ended up flipping back having to steady himself with a few hard flaps of his glowing wings. Human children were some of the most curious creatures and excitable.

“He was alright. Mostly. A couple cuts and scrapes, nothing his humans couldn’t help him with. Managed to get him to run off. And straight into a rose bush!” He laughed again, holding his sides.

Which made Tiffany laugh too! She supposed that wasn’t so bad. She’d fallen in them too. It hurt, but nothing bad ever happened to her! The worst part was the scolding she got for ripping a new shirt.

“I’m glad he stopped being a bully! No one should be that mean! But how did you scare him into the bush if he broke your wings?”

He gave the little girl a smug look before turning to float upside down.

“Cats are stupid,” he explained simply. When that wasn’t enough, he kicked his feet to get upright again. Clearly, a fairy who enjoyed a good story. Or, at least, a chance to brag.

“When he wasn’t paying attention, I threw pebbles at his tail. Huge fluffy thing it was!” He spread his arms wide.

“And when he turned to look at what got his tail, I threw one on his whiskers. Back and forth and over again! Until the stupid cat spun himself silly!”He giggled again at that, spinning around like he was chasing his own wings.

“Then with a loud hiss, he ran off straight into the thorn bush! Dumb cat stayed inside for a week!”Smacking his hands together, he mimicked the cat with a laugh.

Picturing a cat running in circles, little Tiffany couldn’t help but loudly laugh as well. What a silly sight it must have been! She wished she could have seen it for real.

“That’s really smart!” She praised, laughing more when he puffed out his chest with pride. Fairies were better than the stories. Tiffany almost didn’t want to go home, even as she followed him down a barely used path.

“One of the smartest! And the toughest!” He told her, playfully flexing his arms while he guided her on, careful of anything else in the mountains that would want to hurt a little girl. While fairies weren’t the only things among the trees that liked children, it wasn’t for the same reasons.

“Do you have any other fun stories?” She begged as she jumped on a log and walked down it with her arms outstretched.

“Lots!” He chirped as he playfully ducked and weaved between low branches.

“I could tell you about when I fought off a Treewalker!” The fairy stopped at that and seemed to think for a moment.

“Maybe not. You might be a little young for that story. It’s scary.” Tapping his lip, the fairy hummed, before grinning rather slyly at his tiny giant.

Jumping off the long, she hurried to the fairy. Hands on her hips, she leaned forward a little.

“I’m brave! I’m going to be the guardian of Kingspool when I grow up! Grandpa already taught me lots! I can scare off the banshees! And I know when a shadow isn’t a shadow, or or,” she explained how to protect someone from some of the less scary creatures that lived around.

Something the fairy was quite impressed by as he listened, floating backward as she talked. Most adults didn’t know how to take such good care of themselves! What a smart little girl he’d found. He was surprised she was as lost as she was.

The fairy listened until he bumped into a tree from not paying attention. Laughing, he rubbed his head.

“Aren’t you a smart little giant!” He praised with a laugh. Briefly, he wondered if she needed his help. But either way, he was having far too much fun.

“I guess if you’re that brave, I’ll tell you the story of when I stopped a Treewalker that tried to gobble up my friends and chase us away from home.”

That made her stop in her tracks, bright green eyes wide and her little mouth hanging open.

“You stopped a Treewalker?!” She squeaked. Those were too dangerous for the adults!

“Grandpa says they’re super dangerous, and I should run away if I see one. They trick you, making you think they’re just another tree with vines hanging off it.”

The fairy nodded his head as he flew a bit to try to get her walking again.

“He’s right! They’ll eat anyone they can fit between their teeth.” He held his hands up and mimicked eating with his teeth bared. Not even the animals were that dangerous.

“They’re very tough! Their skin is like tree bark. Makes them very hard to fight,” he explained.

Which had Tiffany rushing to catch up. She needed to know! How did someone so small beat something even the adults were afraid of?

“What did you do? Did you use fairy magic on him?”

“Couldn’t! That doesn’t work on, well, most things ‘cept animals and humans,” he admitted with a laugh. Clearing his throat when she frowned.

“I had to fight him off by myself! With thorn daggers and thistle arrows!” Pulling out said daggers, he spun them in his hands and did a quick trick of tossing them up and catching them.

“Tougher than the stuff you find on a bush, but still not very strong against a Treewalker when he’s hungry. But I wasn’t going to let him eat any of my friends!” He explained, swooping low and back up again.

“I stabbed at his fingers and wrists to make him drop my friends, but it wasn’t enough. He was stubborn! No matter how many times I hit him, he just didn’t care. I thought we were done for!”

“Oh no!” Gasped Tiffany, covering her mouth. Treewalkers never stopped until they were full. Though she’d never heard of them ever being full, just always starving.

“What did you do? Did he eat everyone?” She worried and bounced from foot to foot, even as she tried to keep up. The fairies had to be okay! They had to. Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair. And to a seven year old, fairness was still very important.

“Nah! Fairies are known for being clever, you know.” He pretended to knock back an arrow and winked.

“When I knew I couldn’t stop him from eating my friends, I did the only thing I could do! I shot him in the eyes. One right after the other!” Pretending to let go of the imaginary arrows, he raised his hands triumphantly.

“Then! When he was yelling and scratching at his eyes, I threw a dagger in his mouth!”

Wide eyed, Tiffany jumped. They were so small. How could something so small stop something as big as a tree?

“Was it enough? Did you scare him off?”

At first, he just beamed before he nodded.

“It worked! When he couldn’t open his eyes he got really mad and started to swing his fists like mad! But I dodged him easy. When I threw the dagger, he decided we were too much work and bumped around and away!”

Tiffany cheered loudly, throwing a fist into the air. Happy endings were her favourite.

“You’re amazing! Grandpa was right. Fairies are wonderful,” she praised.

“Thank you! It’s always good to know someone still likes us,” he told her, coming to a stop.

“Maybe if I see you again, I can tell you more stories,” he offered before waving a hand.

They were in a familiar spot. The trees faded away, and in the distance was a small house on a cliff with a tin roof and smoke curling out of the chimney.

Tiffany stood in awe. Looking over her shoulder, she spun around, trying to make sense of everything. They hadn’t walked that long, surely? Had she gotten so turned around that she hadn’t actually gone far?

Watching her, the fairy giggled.

“Your grandpa should have told you stories about fairy rings. And that you should never walk into one,” he warned with a serious look but smiled quickly.

“Sometimes we don’t let you go. Things are different on this side.”

For the first time since she was found, Tiffany looked afraid. Grandpa had warned her about fairy rings! But she never noticed. Did that mean she was trapped?

Though her new friend only let her worry for a moment.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like keeping people. Most the time. Just keep walking straight ahead, and you’ll make it home.”

When she didn’t move at first, the fairy sighed and crossed his arms. It really was only right to not trust a fairy, he supposed. Especially when he’d already tricked her once. For her own good or not.

“Go on. I’ll stay right here until you get inside and see your parents,” he promised.

He wouldn’t lie, right? But if she left, there would be no more stories. Would she ever get to meet a fairy again?

“Are you going to go far away when you go away?” She asked, fidgeting with her hands.

A small hum and the fairy sunk down to sit on her shoulder again.

“Far away for me, and far away for you aren’t the same thing,” he explained. Things were very different for fairies than they were for humans after all.

“But you better not get lost again,” he teased, grinning wide when she giggled.

“Be careful out there, and I bet I’ll see you again if you go hunting for fairies.” A playful nudge, and he shooed her off.

“Thank you for taking me home! I hope you have lots of fun adventures!” She called as she ran to her little house where dinner was being made still.

Once she made it inside, she didn’t even say hello before she looked out the window.

Just like he said, there was a little green light at the edge of the trees. A little bounce, and it darted away as her grandfather stepped over to put a hand on her head.

“Did you make a friend out there today?”

“Yeah! I met the best fairy!” She giggled as she sat at the table for dinner. The very best fairy indeed. With stories she would keep forever. Tiffany would never stop keeping an eye out for a little green light.

Even when she grew too old to play with fairies and the expectations of the village bore heavy on her shoulders, Tiffany always watched for little green fairy lights.

[straveltoriesblogs]

Solace at hill, under the Moonlight

Hello,

Nice to meet you all. It’s been a long time coming. I have been procrastinating from past year. Something we shouldn’t be proud of and I’m not either but that’s how I found the courage to take the first step and let the rest fall in time.

My first solo trip. A trip for which all the arrangements were made at the very last moment, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that it was in my mind long before I started talking about it.

A Solo trip, like everyone else I am hoping to find myself and have a better answer for WHO I AM which includes more than my profession. Well, that’s what I thought before going on one and seeing multiple videos about it. I got the idea of going on this trip from my mom. She is the one who bought a trekking bag for me. The moment I saw the bag a scene from “Yeh Jawani Hai Dewani” flashed when Bunny got a bag from his father with the list of things, he should be careful of. Well! That’s exactly the case with my mom. On one hand, she is one who taught me to live my life on my terms but at the same time, she was worried. Still, she helped me pack my stuff and cooked dinner for me to eat later at night while traveling. 

I booked a cab and left my home with the hope to have the best time of my life. I was not scared rather I was excited to embark on this beautiful journey. I reached the station 1 hour before bus timings, like any typical Indian. Hahaha… and as I was standing at the bus stop after covering a 2-hour journey via cab and a metro as far as I could see I couldn’t find anyone who was standing alone with the heavy bag on their shoulder. All I could see was a group of friends laughing, eating Cheetos, and making fun of each other, while their eyes were shining brighter than the sun and their souls were beaming with light. Like, everything is perfect as it should be. And as I was focused on them, suddenly I heard a lady in a yellow saree and a red cardigan, with a big red bindi on her forehead and kajal in her eyes. She seems like a goddess at first glance. She was shouting at her son who was wearing a thin white T-shirt, blue jeans, and Black shoes. She was forcing him to buy the gloves and cap so that he won’t be cold and as usual like any other teenager he was acting as if he don’t know her.

Gosh! I remembered my first trip with my friends, my mother gave me a blanket even though she knew that I was going to have a blanket on the bus and at the hotel, but she insisted. Without saying anything I packed it with other essentials because deep down I knew it was her way of saying to be safe and extra careful and don’t you dare catch a cold.

While looking at everyone around me, I was like a river, my heart was racing, and my mind was calm and eager to meet new people. A Moment of peace, and with that thought I started my journey from Delhi to Triund.

I’ll explain the logistics in another article.

I sat on the bus and noted there were very few people who were on my bus. I thought not a very good start ha.. but let’s see what the sunshine will bring the next day. I reached the Mcloedganj at 7 in the morning and started the Triund trek around 11 after having breakfast with a group of 9 people. Everyone with a different background, culture, career, and place. As we all move forward together, we shared who we are, most of them were Teachers, and there were a few athletes who aim to be army officers and a Businessperson.

Ohh!! Shoot. I forgot to mention one important guest who joined us.

Any guesses???

Well! There is one thing about that place and in fact most of the mountains in North India that we always found a four-legged friend who will join us for the ride. And that’s what happened, a dog joined us along the way and made our journey more fun, and without realizing it, he became the center of the group. 

The weather was pleasing.

 Green grass, blue sky, rocky roads, heavy breaths, soothing music, chai stalls, colorful small buds, and a will to reach the top.

That’s how the journey was. It’s like beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I don’t know what was in the air up there, but everything seems peacefully intriguing. As the air was brushing against my cheeks and letting my hair set free. I could hear every thought, notice every moment, and soak it all in.

Why couldn’t we see all these things in our daily lives? As the eyes of the beholder are the same, maybe we are too busy or too tired to lift our heads and see the peace we all are looking for, is right within ourselves.       

From starting point to the base camp, the journey was filled with lots of emotions – We were tired but relentless. There were moments when everyone else around me disappear and it was just me walking uphill. Navigating on my own. Kind of, like Dora.

At that very moment, I didn’t want to have a distraction from the camera, I just wanted to walk and give my brain some rest as it has been sprinting for the past few months. I believe that’s what the trek was all about, teaching us to spend time with ourselves, and helping us to realize that it’s not only about the destination but the journey that teach us. It was a journey that bought 10 people with different backgrounds together. It was a journey where we all helped each other without any expectations.  

With this long ride, I learned to be present and not just show up. After all, this one life can slip away when we are not paying attention.

Anyway, as we continued to leave our footprints along the way and by having a sip of water WE FINALLY REACHED.

The feeling of accomplishment with the cold air brushing against our faces, was a vault heaven. It was a moment where we have our world. We found solace at the surface and floating at the top.

My world, was a girl sitting on top of the hill watching the sunset. It was serene. The colors – Yellow, Orange, mustard, dark brown, kind of black, shades of purple, blue, and white as well, then there it was a teeny tiny star above all. And it’s not all there was a full moon at the opposite end of this. Mesmerizing chaos.

And I realized that’s how poets gave birth to poetry.

They found the beauty in chaos,

Solace in the rain,

 and Silence in the words

 to keep the storm at shores.    

And as the sun went down, we had our dinner and sat around a bonfire under the moonlight creating magical moments. Later., we slept at the top of the hill, having chills but we were happy, peaceful, and unbothered.

                                                                                              To be continued…

[fangedmagick]

@the-raven-dhampir

Raven was silently observing the surroundings, half hidden by the obscure night shadows. Inky obscurity reflecting on black clothes, black hair. And white skin framing cobalt blue eyes.

Motionless as a statue, he was barely even blinking. Or breathing.

There was something about that young man he was contemplating. Something impossible to define in one word or in a thousand.

His vampire aura was lingering in the air, strong and vivid to whomever possessed the necessary means to grasp it. Vampires, Dhampirs, or vampire hunters maybe…?

But that was not it. There was something else. Something far darker and more destructive. A powerful energy slithering under his skin, different than any magic Raven had ever encountered.

Impossible to say whether it was still trapped inside him and ready to explode or it was a trace left by a vestigial power.

Raven squinted his eyes.

“You have blood on your cheek,” he pointed out loudly. A weird conversation started indeed. And that was not all.

"Been a bad boy tonight, ah?" he winked.

Curiosity will definitely kill the cat. Eventually.

He vaguely smiled.

Aurelius should have guessed he was being watched.. then again, in this world he had been tossed into, being watched was all to common. But he didn’t pry given he hadn’t sensed any need to defend himself or any attack coming yet.

He hid it best he could, but a Tremere with a power that was darker and shouldn’t be taught by any means outside of LaSombra circles did confuse some. But he hid it usually, that darker side of him. A side that, if found by the wrong Kindred, would give him the final death for a crime he didn’t mean to commit.

But he walked without a care in the world. The one he fed on would not have remembered outside of being attacked and some valuables stolen. He needed some money like usual. So he got some extra money from his feeding. 

Tremere shouldn’t have the power that slithered dark under his now less pale skin. A point out made him frown and check his cheek in a nearby reflection... sure enough-- damn. He began to wipe it off and flick it to the asphalt like trash. “So you finally reveal yourself?” He called back, finally looking in the direction of the other.

Now the scent was strange. It wasn’t Thin Blood.. no, it wasn’t another Kindred. Was his nose playing tricks on him? “He had it coming. Muggers of innocents should get mugged is my motto... well, not really, but I prefer the ‘they had it coming’.” He blinks at the wink. Okay, either the guy was playing innocent to try and mess with him, or was genuine. “Is this your territory? I am just passing through. The guy won’t remember outside of maybe a hangover and lack of funds.” He smirked some.

[unstablewifiaccess]

Happy WBW, lovely! Not sure why, but today I'm asking about fashion?? What does the fashion-- I'm talking high, street, or anything else-- look like in your world(s)?

Happy late WBW Tori!

I'm actually going to use the scenes I've written to explain, if that's okay!

Under the cut, because it takes up a lot of dash space.

On Jane's island:

She began to tightly braid her hair up, the strands of black becoming two completely straight ropes hanging by her head. Not a single strand out of place, just as she was taught. A simple grey dress laid across the bench right next to her. There was nothing fancy about it, as that required money that a large majority of the island didn’t even dream of having. Just a simple dress made from uncolored fabric used from the wool of a local sheep. It had taken a large trade on her father’s part just to get the dress in the first place.

 It slipped on with ease, though, covering her body modestly. Jane was thankful that her father had spent the extra vegetables just so that it could be professionally fitted to her body, instead of the sack-like dresses that most of the young women would wear. His excuse was that the child of an elder should always look more dignified than the other girls, but Jane knew it was because he was hoping to one day marry her off to some mainland man with money, and that would be easier if she looked the part.

Mainland Clothes (casual):

this one was colorful, a deep blue with little white flowers around the hem. It even featured a tie to cinch her waist inwards like the fashion Madame Cress had shown her from the mainland. The cape was simpler, a blackened cotton lined with sheep wool. It was something that would have cost Jane more than a season’s worth of earnings to buy, simply due to the materials and the usefulness it carried.

On the ship:

There were three tunics, Three pairs of trousers, and another dress- also fairly simple. He insisted that she needed clothing fit for working on the ship, and that it shouldn’t come out of her own funds to begin with.

High Fashion:

The deep green fabric was quite literally shining in the light, looking almost as if it were lighting up itself. An entire bolt of fabric had been used to create the skirt alone, at least. It flowed out like a flower in bloom. The corset was lined with small gems that had to have taken months to apply on their own, giving their own sheen to the entire look.

...

It turned out that the dress had four separate layers, the woman explained as she separated them. There was a corset, a top, an underskirt that seemed to be the reason behind how far the dress sat out, and a top skirt to cover it. And not unlike how the room was a waste of space, Jane felt as if the dress was a waste of time to put on. By the time it took to get all of the layers onto her body, Jane was trying to understand how women would be able to wear these dresses for long periods of time to events, move around in them, and still be able to breathe. She felt like she could barely move, let alone take any deep breaths that would allow her to breathe properly

Sorry, that was a lot, but it seemed easier than explaining it lol

[storyofx]

3:21 pm

My eyes red, voice hoarse, head aching, and a spirit burning with dark thoughts and fantasies of revenge dance around every inch of me.

I take a hit of the blunt…… the same thought ringing in my head….

 It keeps happening……

Every chapter ends the same way. No matter what I do, no matter how I try to change, no matter what path I take.

It always happens the same way.....

Is it my fault? How? Treat people how you want to be treated. Always be kind. Always be respectful. Always think positive and be honorable, karma will reward you…..

Well, that’s fucking bullshit……

I always used to think that saying “nice guys finish last” was so stupid. Like, I don’t expect the world to bow at my feet because I say please and thank you. I don’t expect that just because I hold the door open for someone that they automatically owe me whatever I ask for.

All my life I was taught to always put people before me. “That’s how a man should be”. But as I ponder my life up until this point I cant help but notice that most selfish, the most arrogant, the most………..

{phone rings}

X: hello?

Q: Yoooooo man what’s going on!

X: Nothing much man. Not doing too good but I’m …..

Q:  Hey man keep your head up, I need a favor....

{a few seconds of silence pass}

Q: you there man?

X: ….yeah man what do you need.

Q: I need you to take a ride to the usual spot.

X: look man I’m not feeling it today.

Q: c’mon man you said you’re feeling bad right? Use this trip to clear your head.

X: yeah, clear my head and my gas tank

Q: Cmon ma….

X: No you cmon man. I started taking these “trips” because I needed to make some extra cash. But since I’ve been taking these “trips” you haven’t paid me shit. At this point, I’m paying you to only benefit you. By doing this shit.

Q: Look man, that’s not how this works…

X: so how does this work? I risk everything, make you some quick cash, and then everything’s cool?

Q: bro you’re just having a bad day man…..

And right on cue…..It happens

X: you know what man. I’m done. I’m fucking done. Find someone else to do this shit.

Q: man quit fucking crying; all your doing is complaining when I’m pretty sure whatever you dealing with aint even no big fucking deal. Look man, come over to the crib after you done and we’ll smoke one and cool off.

X: It’s that easy huh?

Q: Yeah Nigga!!! Call me when it’s done.

X: bet that {hangs up phone}.

It’s been the same thing all my life.  I get fucked over some way and when I try to defend myself or show any sign of frustration, everyone tells me that I’m overreacting, that I shouldn’t have anything to be mad over, that I’m basically being a bitch…….

Everyday I replay every situation in my mind. From childhood to where I am now. Was I overreacting? Am I just being a bitch? I’ve seen people give support to someone for the same shit, but whenever it’s me it’s the same thing. “You have nothing to be angry at”, “you grew up with both parents in the suburbs, you aint never seen a problem”, “act like a man”.

I try to rationalize. See if it was truly me whose was in the wrong. Every day I analyze every single situation. No man, I was wronged, someone did something to me that wasn’t fair, that wasn’t right. How come it’s me who’s in the wrong every time?

Be honorable, treat people the way you want to be treated, be a man.

No…..this is bullshit. I’ve lived these teachings. Am I perfect? Absolutely not. But one thing I can say is that I’ve never brought anyone into my bullshit. The shit I’ve done behind closed doors. The shit I’ve done to escape and temporarily fill this void. The alcohol, the women, all of it. After all its my fault I never been taught how to take care of myself mentally. I've never been taught how to set boundaries. I’ve never been taught how to defend myself as a man when I’ve been done wrong. The only thing I’ve been taught is how to be used......

And put others first. Like the “Man” they want me to be.

But you know what……it’s time to learn something new.....

{Picks up phone a makes a call}

Q: Yoooo man! What’s up? You done with that already?

X: Yeah I’m done.

Q: Cool ma…..

X: with you…….with all of you…………..

[halcyon-reverie3]

OBCD Chapter 8 - My People

“To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.”

— Criss Jami

Doctors, medicine, patient, diagnosis, therapy, support. Truthfully, Diya was surprised. She had expected the worst when she had revealed her troubles to her parents. They were nice people, amazing even, yet she had assumed the worst. Maybe, she hoped for the best. But she had never foreseen what was happening to her now. She had been to countless doctors, nutritionists, dieticians, therapists, even those she believed she did not need. As sweet as the gesture was, she was overwhelmed. A moment ago she struggled to reveal herself to her parents and now she was forced to do so in front of a complete stranger she had only made acquaintance with a few minutes ago.

“Relax,” her mother said, smoothing her dress, “the therapist will only listen to what you have to say. Anything really.” Sweet words from her sweet mother, with no effect on her nerves. She felt like she was 10, forced to go to the doctor’s alone. Not that she ever experienced that, but in her frantic mind, the two scenarios seemed the same. Diya considered running away quite frequently. Too frequently, she thought, teeth chattering. She was never this nervous before. I used to be so cool, so easygoing, she reminisced, thinking back to when she was skinny. No, she thought, I wasn’t skinny, I was underweight. Two different things, Diya. Focus.

A nervous smile, an awkward wave. Diya went inside her therapist’s office, steeling herself as the white double doors shut close.

“You know, I think we should change our GP,” her father announced as they were leaving the doctor’s office. “Like, I’m grateful he taught us what we need to know about Diya’s illness but like are the number of specialists he suggested really enough? I want to cure my daughter of this issue she developed.” “Issues I  developed,” Diya repeated with barely concealed anger. She knew she shouldn’t be rude, knew that her parents only meant the best for her. But, the statement was so extremely accusatory, she couldn’t be helped but feel as though it rubbed her the wrong way. “I mean yeah, if you didn’t have that social media, we wouldn’t have to do this. I know you were uncomfortabl-” “Uncomfortable?” Diya couldn’t help it anymore. “Yes, I was uncomfortable because it was the first time I met this therapist. We never continued these sessions with one long enough for me to be comfy. And what does my social media have to do with this? Yes, it’s partially the reason, but not ALL OF IT.” Stomping away, Diya ignored her parents’ cries of protest. I can’t do this right now, she thought, exasperated.

Diya had been angry. She had been angry for quite a few days. But she could never stay angry for too long. Could never really hold a grudge. So as she sulkily trudged down for dinner, she decided to make her peace and say her piece as well. “So,” she began, clearing her throat, “I hope you guys… realised that what you said a few days ago was really hurtful. And while I am sorry to lash out like that…” She looked at her parents, meaningfully. Grumbling, they never verbally apologised to her. But she knew they were sorry. At least, she hoped that the extra few pieces of pizza they left for her symbolised their apologies. This was the way they’d communicate. Very rarely with verbal words of affirmation or affection. Always with small acts of service, a warm home-cooked meal left in front of your room when it was just one of those days, a new outfit by your bed when you just complained about not having enough to wear, laundry neatly folded and that small checklist ticked in red ink when you know you always use green for finished tasks. Her parent’s love was gentle, soft, and quiet. She didn’t need to hear those “I love you’s”, she felt them every day.

“Eat your food, it’s getting cold,” her father mumbled, pretending to not pay attention. But the way he warmed her cold food without having to ever be asked said more than words could ever convey. Wait, I’m going off-track. Clearing her throat once again and taking on a stern pose, she said, “So, I saw this one community group for people with my type of eating disorders. And I’m going, no objection, no nothing.” Beady eyes scanned her parents’ faces for any signs of disagreement, she huffed, victorious. Not that she would ever go if they had said no, they knew that as well as she did. But she still liked to feel that little bit of adulthood they’d allowed her to feel.

Community support group, here I come…

Awkwarddd, her brain singsonged at the worst possible moment. She had been very dedicated and bold as head out of her home to the community support group. But with the combination of awkward introverted personalities and awkward environment, the whole group was quiet. She knew that someone had to step up and be the extroverted introvert, but she also knew that she would rather die than be that someone. Or maybe she would live and be that someone. “Uh….. heyy guys. So, my name is Diya. Diya Elostra. What… are your names?” “Oh, I’m Ara.” “I’m Josh.” “I’m Warner, Lyn Warner.” “I’m Jake.” One by one, the whole group of introverts turned that very awkward environment into a safe space. My people, Diya thought, smiling to herself.

“So, in the beginning, I really used to hate food. Like I could never eat something without having to throw up afterwards.” “For me, it wasn’t that bad. But when I looked in the mirror, I saw a monster that I never wanted to be. And so I lost weight, And I lost weight. Until I ended up in the E.R.” So many stories, so many genres. Yet not one person used to bat an eye, not one person flipped the pages over and read their stories. I’ll be that person, Diya promised herself. “Hey, you know what,” she began, “why don’t we set up a goal? For every two or three kgs that we gain, we go out as a group. Have fun, eat. You know? Just enjoy life!” Several curious heads nodded. Two or three kgs, Diya thought, I’m gonna do this. “We’re gonna do this,” she announced, bringing her hand to the middle. The others enthusiastically joined as they all cheered in unison.

My people.

“Okay, okay, everyone! Come here!”

“One, two, three, cheers!”

“Cheers to gaining two kgs!”

“Hey, speak for yourself. I’ve gained three!”

“Same here!”

“Me too!”

The dainty little restaurant was filled with the sound of joy. To an ordinary person, this may have seemed like an odd celebration. But these people here weren’t ordinary, they were soldiers, they were survivors. They didn’t run away from their scars. They embraced them to show that they were there. They had suffered and they had risen. They had risen to become better people, loving people. Not all of them were on the same level, but this was no competition. This was friendship, camaraderie. This was a community. Months had passed by since the first time they had set a goal. It had always been to gain a few kgs. Diya knew it would never be completely easy. But it would be freeing. One day at a time, there would be an unexpected smile, an unimportant mirror. And right now? Some tasty buffet.

Piling up several platters, Diya and her newfound community friends giggled at their childish behaviour. But they were children at heart. They never truly had the time to enjoy their lives as teens. Better late than never, Diya would always say to herself. She still faced the harsh comments of other people, people who thought bringing others down elevated their position. In truth, it was the opposite. Today was no different either. As much as she tried, she could still hear the disgusted comments of other people. Harsh comments indeed. But not so harsh that they stung her as they once did. Perhaps, because she understood her true worth. Perhaps, because she realised no one judges her true worth but herself. Perhaps, because now, she loves herself.

Not to say she didn’t struggle. She avoided foods that reminded her of the cruel times with her so-called ‘friends’. ‘Friends’ that abandoned her the moment she wasn’t the epitome of fame. Friends, yeah right, she scoffed. But maybe she should have faced those fears sooner. For now, she sat alone at her table, staring at the plate of chicken wings. A funny concept maybe. But not for her. She still remembered what she felt. She still feels the same.

Nauseous. Diya felt nauseous. All around her, people chewing on their food. Messy, gross, disgusting. Sauce dripping everywhere, the stench unbearable. She could see people chortling and talking, faces stuffed with food, some obnoxiously flying around as they talked, oblivious. Revolting. She could hear, no, she could smell once again, people burping indecently, chuckling afterwards.  The stench of food filled the air.

“Diya, hey. Diya. Diya!” Shaken from her stupor, she gazed at her friends, concern in their eyes. “You good? You haven’t touched your food since the moment you sat down.” Shaking her head, Diya smiled a weak smile. They’re not buying it, she thought, nervous. Softly, one of her friends put their hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. Don’t force yourself. But make sure you eat something before you sleep okay?”

I have to try, at least once. Taking a deep shuddering breath, Diya picked up a piece. Her hands shook as she dropped the food. “One more time”, she breathed out. Picking up a wing, she suppressed the urge to vomit. Her hands shook, her stomach protested. She dropped the food again. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Ican’tdothisIcan’tdothisIcan’tdotihis. I can do this. I will do this. “One. More. Time.” She picked up her food once again. Her nostrils flared, burning with the smell of food. Ears ringing, vision blurry. I. Will. Do. This. The harsh lighting of the diner thudded against the back of her head. I. Can. Do. This. The sauce smeared her fingertips, squelching horribly. Ride or die, I guess.

Diya bit into her food.

Silence. Pin-drop silence. Diya remained unresponsive. Blank eyes stared at her friends. Blank, hazel eyes dropped down to her food. One bite. Two bites. Three bites. She took another bite. Chewing. Eating. “This… this is… this is delicious,” she exclaimed, unable to stop savouring the heavenly food. Gone was the disgust. How could she ever have neglected such a delectable meal! Flavourful, succulent, divine. Oftentimes fascinating. She noted the bright crimson colour, glossy in the restaurant lighting. She bit into her food. Crispy, crunchy on the outside and soft, juicy, piquant on the inside. Amazing!

Diya ate. She ate and she ate. After all, a hard-earned buffet is not one to miss so easily. She ate and she cheered. She enjoyed all that life had to offer her. And she did that with her true friends. I could have prevented my struggles by asking for help when I needed it, she thought.  Needing help and asking for help might be seen as a stigma in today’s world, but, as Charles Dickens said, ‘no one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.’

No one.

That night, Diya ate some more, when she went home.

Healing would never be an easy process. One would rise and one would fall. The only thing that mattered was when you fell, whether you would brush up your injuries and rise once again, or whether you would remain chained to the ground.

And Diya would not remain chained to the ground.

She rose and she fell. She loved herself and she hated herself. But each day became a little easier, a little lighter. Each meal became a little more guilt-free. Each weight gained and each weight lost became for her health, not for her ‘beauty’. She lost weight, she gained weight.

She became healthy.

She became loving, to herself and others. She aspired to be the very best she could be. And when you want something with all your heart, with all your soul, the universe will go to its very limits, to get that something to you. Diya wanted, she wanted with all her heart. She wanted with all her soul. And so the universe delivered. Her skills delivered.

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