#make her eight year old leave the country please!

[cjlouwho]

There’s this woman I follow on Instagram who is currently decked out in all trump gear, having her kids blow up balloons with his name on it, saying her 8 year old son is ready to leave the country should trump not win. Yall I can’t make this shit up. She says trump is gonna make America healthy again (like he doesn’t eat McDonald’s on the daily) and he’ll protect her daughters ahhhhhhh where do I begin????

[rootedinrevisions]

Never Left Me: Prologue

STORY SUMMARY: After eight years of building a new life in Chicago, Lauren Allen is forced to return to her small hometown in Arkansas. It’s a world she thought she’d left behind—the quiet streets, the endless farmland, and the memories of the boy she never quite forgot. Now working as a paralegal and engaged to a successful lawyer, Lauren should be happy. But beneath the polished surface of her life, she feels out of place, trapped in a world that doesn't quite fit. When she unexpectedly crosses paths with Tyler Owens, the boy who broke her heart one summer night, Lauren must confront the emotions she’s buried for nearly a decade. As she’s pulled back into the life she tried to leave behind, Lauren faces a choice: continue the path she’s on, or finally admit what—and who—she truly wants.

CHAPTER/PART SUMMARY: At 18, Lauren believed she was in love for the first time. That August night in Arkansas felt like the beginning of something beautiful as she watched the sunset with Tyler Owens by her side. The warm air was thick with unspoken feelings, and when Tyler leaned in to kiss her, Lauren thought her dreams had finally come true. But in the quiet aftermath of that moment, reality crashed in—what she felt wasn’t what he could say back. What should have been the perfect night turned into the memory that would haunt her for years, pushing her to leave town and never look back.

WARNINGS: Underage Drinking. 18+ Unprotected Sex (implied).

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog 

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The intense August heat hung in the air like a thick blanket as Lauren sat in the passenger seat of Tyler's old truck. The cracked leather beneath her legs stuck to her skin as the Arkansas sun beat down, but she didn’t mind. She never minded, not when she was with him. 

She could feel the dust from the back roads swirling through the open windows, mixing with the scent of hay and the earthy smell of Tyler’s truck. The radio hummed quietly in the background, some country song she couldn’t quite make out over the sound of the wind rushing past.

Tyler was beside her, one hand resting on the steering wheel, his other arm slung lazily out the window. His fingers tapped along to the beat, completely at ease. He was home, finally, after spending the summer competing in rodeos across the South and Midwest. Lauren had counted down the days until he came back, knowing this might be the last summer they’d have like this. In just a few weeks, she’d be leaving for college. She’d be gone, and Tyler—he would be wherever the rodeos took him next.

"You okay?" Tyler glanced over at her, his green eyes catching hers for a brief moment before returning to the road.

Lauren forced a smile, pushing down the familiar ache in her chest. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About what?" he asked, his voice warm but casual, like everything was always easy between them. Like he didn’t know her heart raced every time she was close to him.

"Just… how hot it is," she lied, turning her gaze out the window. In reality, she wasn’t thinking about the heat at all. She was thinking about him. How much she’d miss him. How much she wanted to say the words she’d kept buried for so long, but couldn’t.

The truck jolted slightly as they turned onto the rutted dirt path that led to Tyler’s family farm. His dad had called him to help with something, and of course, she had tagged along. 

That’s how it always was—Lauren always finding a reason to be with him, always lingering just a little too close. But she never let herself get too close, not the way she really wanted to.

"Doesn't feel like it's gonna cool down anytime soon," Tyler remarked, squinting out into the horizon, the golden fields of late summer stretching endlessly ahead.

Lauren swallowed, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing against her. This was their last summer, the last time they’d have this—long afternoons of driving down the back roads, just the two of them. She wasn’t ready to let it go. She wasn’t ready to let him go.

Tyler pulled the truck to a stop near the barn, killing the engine as a cloud of dust settled around them. For a moment, there was silence, just the sound of cicadas buzzing in the distance and the faint echo of wind rustling through the nearby fields.

"Guess I should go help my dad. Tess is inside if you want to go hang out with her.." Tyler said, but he didn’t move right away. Instead, he looked over at her, his eyes lingering a little longer than usual. "You wanna hang out after I’m done?"

Lauren nodded, her throat tightening. "Yeah, of course."

She could feel the weight of the moment between them, heavier than the summer air. Her heart pounded as she stared at him, knowing this was her chance. She could tell him. She could finally say everything she’d been holding back—the way she felt about him, the way she didn’t want to leave without him knowing the truth. But the words stuck in her throat, caught on her fear of ruining everything.

Tyler gave her a crooked smile, the kind that always made her chest ache. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. He was Tyler—carefree, easygoing, always just a little out of reach.

"I’ll be back in a bit," he said, his voice soft.

And then he was gone, slipping out of the truck and walking toward the barn, leaving Lauren alone with her thoughts.

She watched him go, her hands trembling as she gripped the seat beneath her. This was her last summer here. The last time they’d have together before life pulled them in different directions. If she didn’t say something now, she might never get another chance.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the sweltering heat. She walked toward the barn, her heart pounding in her chest, each step feeling heavier than the last. Tyler was up ahead, already inside, talking to his dad.

Lauren hesitated, her feet rooted to the ground as she stood at the barn door, watching him. This was it. She had to do it now, or she’d regret it forever.

"Tyler!" Her voice came out sharper than she intended, and she saw him turn, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What’s up?" he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans as he walked toward her.

She could feel her heart racing, her pulse pounding in her ears. Everything she wanted to say was stuck in her throat, lodged beneath her fear.

"I—" She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "I just… I wanted to tell you something."

Tyler stopped in front of her, his expression softening, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Yeah? What’s on your mind?"

Lauren’s breath hitched. This was it. All she had to do was say it—I love you. I always have. I don’t want to leave without you knowing.

But she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come, not with him standing there, so close, so impossibly out of reach.

"It’s nothing," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Never mind."

Tyler’s smile returned, easy and effortless, like it always was. He reached out, ruffling her hair like he always did, a gesture that made her heart both soar and sink at the same time.

"You’re weird today," he teased, giving her a playful shove. "I’ll see you later, okay?"

* * * *

The fading light of the late summer sun cast a warm, golden glow over the endless stretch of Tyler's dad’s fields. The world seemed softer here, quieter. Tyler had parked the truck on a small hill overlooking the rows of corn and soybeans, and now the two of them were sprawled out in the back, leaning against the worn metal of the truck bed as they watched the sky turn shades of pink and orange.

Tyler had thrown a blanket in the back of the truck, one that smelled faintly of hay and dust, and helped Lauren up onto the tailgate. His hand had lingered just a moment too long as he pulled her up, but Lauren didn’t let herself dwell on it. She couldn’t afford to—not tonight. Not when everything felt so fragile, like one wrong move might shatter the perfect balance between them.

He pulled out a mason jar filled with watermelon juice—except it wasn’t just watermelon. Lauren didn’t need to ask to know that. The sharp, almost bitter scent hit her before she even took a sip.

"Where'd you get that?" Lauren asked, trying to sound casual, though her pulse quickened slightly at the idea of what they were about to do. This wasn’t her first sip of alcohol, but it felt like her first real drink—something about doing it with Tyler made it feel different. More significant.

Tyler grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "A buddy of mine. He makes it himself—watermelon moonshine. Thought it’d be a good way to celebrate the end of summer."

Lauren raised an eyebrow. "Celebrate?"

Tyler shrugged, his gaze drifting out toward the horizon. "Yeah. You know, you leaving for college. Me… I dunno, doing more rodeos. Everything changing."

Lauren swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle between them. Everything was changing, and as much as she tried to ignore it, the thought gnawed at her. This might be their last night together like this, and she still hadn’t found the courage to tell him how she felt.

Tyler handed her the jar, his fingers brushing hers in the process. She took it, lifting it to her lips cautiously. As soon as the liquid hit her tongue, the burn followed. It was sharp, fiery, and completely unexpected. She winced, her face scrunching up involuntarily.

Tyler chuckled, his deep, familiar laugh filling the warm evening air. 

"Here." He reached into the cooler at his feet and pulled out a lime, slicing it with a pocket knife before offering her a wedge. "Try this—it’ll cut the burn."

Grateful, Lauren squeezed the lime into the jar and took another sip. This time, the sting was still there, but the citrus helped, mellowing it just enough. After a few more sips, the warmth from the alcohol began to spread through her, relaxing the tension in her shoulders and making the edges of the world seem a little softer.

"You alright?" Tyler asked, his voice low, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah," Lauren replied, feeling the sudden urge to laugh for no reason at all. "It’s not bad. Better than I expected."

"That’s what I thought." Tyler took the jar from her and took a long pull from it himself, as if it was nothing. Like he’d done this a thousand times before. Maybe he had. Lauren wouldn’t be surprised.

They passed the jar back and forth for a while, the easy silence between them broken only by the occasional sound of Tyler humming along to a song playing faintly on the radio. The alcohol made everything feel lighter, more distant, like the weight of the future wasn’t pressing down on her so much anymore.

"So," Tyler said after a while, his voice a little slower, more relaxed. "You excited? For college, I mean."

Lauren hesitated, staring out at the setting sun, its colors painting the sky in a vibrant display. She hadn’t really thought about it—about how she felt. Excited? Nervous? Scared? None of those words seemed to fit.

"I guess," she said finally, her voice soft. "It’s just… it’s a lot, you know? Leaving home. Leaving this."

Tyler was quiet for a moment, and when she glanced over at him, he was watching her, his expression unreadable.

"You’re gonna be alright," he said, his voice low and steady. "You’re tougher than you think, Lauren."

Lauren’s heart ached at the way he said her name, so casually, like he didn’t know the power it held over her. She wanted to believe him—to believe that everything would be okay once she left, that she wouldn’t miss him like this. But deep down, she knew better.

Tyler leaned back, resting his head against the side of the truck, his eyes on the darkening sky. Lauren mirrored him, settling into the warmth of the blanket beneath them. The moon was starting to rise, casting a soft glow over the fields, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, drinking the last of the watermelon moonshine and watching the stars appear one by one. The air between them felt charged, like something unspoken was lingering there, waiting to be said. But neither of them said anything.

When Tyler finally spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "You ever wonder what it’d be like if things were different?"

Lauren blinked, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean?"

Tyler shifted beside her, turning to face her more fully. "I don't know. Just like what might happen if you weren't leaving in a couple weeks."

Lauren looked down at her hands and shrugged. She hadn't really thought much about it. College had always been in her plans. There was only one thing that could get her to change her mind about going to Chicago. Only one person that could get her to change her mind about going to Chicago.

His eyes, deep and unreadable in the moonlight, seemed to search hers for something—something that Lauren wasn’t sure she could give, or maybe something she’d been wanting to offer all along.

"If you weren’t leaving," he said slowly, "I’d probably have asked you out by now. Maybe take you on a date or two. Hell, I might even ask if you wanted to come on the road with me next time I hit the rodeos."

Lauren’s heart fluttered, and she wasn’t sure if it was the moonshine, the heat of the night, or the way Tyler was looking at her now. Had he really just said that? The Tyler she’d known for years, who’d only ever been her friend—was he saying he wanted her?

"I’d like that," Lauren whispered, her voice barely audible.

Tyler gave her a crooked smile, one that made her insides twist in a way that only he could. "Yeah? You think you could handle the road, running around with a bunch of cowboys?"

Lauren let out a soft laugh, but it died quickly on her lips as Tyler reached out, his hand brushing her cheek. The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, that she froze for a moment, feeling her heart race as he leaned in closer.

Before she could think too much, his lips were on hers—tentative at first, like he was testing the waters, but then bolder as she kissed him back. The warmth of his breath, the soft press of his mouth against hers—it was everything she’d imagined and more. Her body seemed to move on instinct, and before she knew it, she was pulling herself closer, her hands finding their way into his hair, knocking his hat off in the process.

Tyler groaned softly, pulling her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her as the kiss deepened. Lauren could feel his hands sliding over her waist, up her back, and suddenly everything felt electric—like a spark had been lit between them, one that neither of them could control.

Her heart raced as his hands began to explore her body, sliding beneath her shirt, his touch sending shivers through her. She felt the roughness of his fingers against her skin, and the thrill of it made her breath catch. 

She wanted him—had wanted him for as long as she could remember—and now, here he was, holding her, touching her in ways that made her feel alive in a way she’d never felt before.

They lost themselves in each other, the summer night fading away as the heat between them grew. The truck bed seemed to disappear beneath them, the world narrowing down to just Tyler—his lips, his hands, the feel of him beneath her.

It wasn’t until later, when they were tangled together, the cool air of the evening brushing over their heated skin, that Lauren felt the weight of what had just happened settle over her. 

She had given Tyler more than just her heart tonight. She had given him all of her, in a way she hadn’t with anyone else before. She had let him in, completely. As she lay there, her head resting on his chest, she felt a strange mix of emotions swirl inside her—joy, nerves, and something else. Something that had been building inside her for years.

"Tyler," she whispered, her voice shaky. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the rush of what had just happened, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer. "I... I think I'm in love with you. I think I have been for a while now."

The words hung in the air, suspended between them like a fragile thread. Tyler was quiet. Too quiet.

Lauren’s heart pounded as she waited for him to say something—anything—but all he did was let out a soft sigh. His hand, which had been tracing lazy circles on her back, stilled for a moment.

"Lauren..." he started, his voice hesitant, like he was choosing his words carefully. "You’ve had a few drinks... maybe you’re just feeling—"

"I mean it," Lauren interrupted, sitting up slightly so she could look him in the eye. Her face was flushed, but not just from the alcohol. She could feel the vulnerability in her words, the way her heart was exposed, raw and open.

Tyler’s expression softened, but there was something behind his eyes—something Lauren didn’t want to see. "I don’t want you to regret saying something you don’t mean because of a little moonshine."

The unspoken truth in his words hit Lauren like a punch to the gut. He didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t. If he had, he would have said it back. But he didn’t. He wasn’t in love with her, at least not in the way she was with him.

The hurt settled in, sharp and painful, though she tried to push it down. She’d given him everything, and it still wasn’t enough.

Tyler pulled her close again, kissing her forehead softly, like he was trying to comfort her without acknowledging the ache that was building inside her. "I care about you, Laur. You know that, right?"

But the words felt hollow now, the tenderness in his touch tainted by the rejection she could feel seeping into her bones. He didn’t love her. Not like that.

And that was when she knew—things between them had changed. This night, which had started with so much promise, was the beginning of the end. The realization settled in her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake.

They lay in silence after that, the once-comfortable quiet now filled with unspoken hurt. She couldn’t look at him anymore, her heart too fragile to handle the truth that had been exposed. He had her—heart, body, and soul—but he couldn’t say the words she longed to hear.

The warmth of Tyler’s arms no longer felt comforting. The closeness they had shared just moments ago now felt distant, a barrier between them that she hadn’t expected. Lauren sat up, her movements slow, her heart heavy as the realization of what had just happened fully settled in.

She wordlessly pulled her shirt back over her head, her hands trembling slightly as she fastened her jeans. Tyler sat up behind her, watching her in silence, his brow furrowed, unsure of what to say. The weight of the moment hung between them, thick and oppressive.

"Lauren," he finally said, his voice soft, almost pleading. "Let’s... talk about this. I didn’t mean to—"

"Can you take me home?" she interrupted, her voice small, barely above a whisper.

Tyler flinched, her request cutting through whatever he was about to say. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustrated and guilt-ridden. "Lauren, I didn’t—"

"Please," she said, her eyes fixed on the tailgate of the truck, refusing to meet his gaze. "Just take me home."

Tyler stared at her for a long moment, his chest tight with the weight of what he’d done—or what he hadn’t said. He had wanted to say the right thing, but somehow it had all gone wrong. But now, Lauren was pulling away, both physically and emotionally, and he felt the distance growing by the second.

With a reluctant nod, he slid off the tailgate and reached to help her down, his hands hovering near her but never quite touching her. They climbed into the truck, the silence between them unbearable, the easy laughter and warmth of the evening now a distant memory.

As they drove down the familiar dirt roads, the rumble of the truck’s engine was the only sound. Lauren stared out the window, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, but her expression was unreadable. Tyler glanced over at her several times, his heart aching with the knowledge that he had hurt her in a way he couldn’t take back.

"Lauren..." he tried again, his voice breaking the silence.

But she didn’t respond. She kept her eyes trained on the passing fields, the stars above shimmering like distant pinpricks of light. He could see her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, a telltale sign of her discomfort, but she remained silent.

By the time they pulled up in front of her parents’ house, the tension was suffocating. Tyler shifted the truck into park, turning to her, desperate to say something—anything—that would fix what had just happened.

"Look, I didn’t mean to—" he started, but before he could finish, Lauren opened the door and climbed out.

"Thanks for the ride," she muttered, not even looking back at him as she shut the door and walked toward the house.

Tyler watched her go, his heart sinking lower with every step she took. She didn’t glance back—not once. Her figure, small and vulnerable under the porch light, disappeared inside, the door closing softly behind her.

The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound of it echoing in the quiet house. Lauren stood there, frozen for a moment, her hand still resting on the cool metal of the doorknob. The weight of everything that had just happened pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

She leaned back against the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She had held it together for the entire ride home, staring out the window, biting down the overwhelming urge to cry. But now, alone in the darkness of her parents’ home, there was no need to hold back anymore.

The tears came, spilling over without warning. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break free, but it was no use. The dam had broken, and everything she had been trying to suppress—her heartache, her humiliation, the bitter sting of rejection—flooded out in waves.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have thought... hoped... that tonight would be different? That Tyler would somehow see her the way she had seen him for all these years?

Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs as she slid down the door, sinking to the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest. She hugged them tightly, rocking slightly, trying to soothe the ache in her chest. But it was no use. The pain was too sharp, too raw.

She had told him. She had told Tyler Owens that she loved him.

Lauren’s breath hitched as she replayed the moment over in her mind, cringing at the memory. The words had tumbled out of her, reckless and unguarded, in the haze of moonshine and the rush of their closeness. She had said it, believing—no, wanting—to believe that he felt the same.

But he hadn’t said it back.

Her heart twisted painfully as she remembered the way he had brushed off her confession, chalking it up to the alcohol, to the moment. He hadn’t believed her. Or worse—he hadn’t wanted to believe her.

She wiped at her cheeks, though more tears kept coming. It wasn’t just the words she regretted. It was everything that had happened after. She had given herself to him. Completely. She had shared a piece of herself that she had never shared with anyone else, and now it felt like she had lost it forever.

A sob caught in her throat as she thought about how naïve she had been, thinking that somehow, in some way, tonight might change things between them. That maybe, just maybe, he might see her as more than just the girl who had always been around. More than just his sister’s friend or the girl whose family he helped out on the farm.

But now she knew better.

Her chest tightened with a fierce, protective resolve, and she swiped at her tears with more determination. She couldn’t stay here anymore. She couldn’t keep pretending that things would somehow work out—that she could just go back to being friends with Tyler, back to the way things used to be. The truth was out now. She had bared her heart to him, and he hadn’t even tried to catch it.

Lauren stared blankly at the darkened living room, her mind racing. She wasn’t going to stick around to feel this way anymore. She wasn’t going to give Tyler—or this town—the power to hurt her again.

In a few weeks, she’d be leaving for college. Chicago. A whole new life away from this place that had been her whole world for so long. And now, more than ever, she knew she couldn’t come back.

She wiped the last of her tears, her breath still shaky, but the sobs had started to slow. She made a silent vow right there, sitting on the floor of her childhood home: she was leaving, and she wasn’t coming back. Not for the summers. Not for holidays. Not for anything.

Maybe in time, the memory of tonight would fade, along with the ache of Tyler’s rejection. Maybe she could start fresh, far away from the farm, the fields, and the roads that all reminded her of him. Of them.

Lauren stood slowly, her legs weak beneath her as she steadied herself against the door. She didn’t glance outside. She couldn’t bear to think about Tyler still sitting out there in his truck, waiting, watching, maybe even regretting what had happened. It didn’t matter anymore. Whatever was between them was over before it had even begun.

With a heavy sigh, Lauren turned away from the door and made her way upstairs, her decision made. Arkansas had been her home for eighteen years, but now, it was just a place she had to leave behind.

And she was never coming back.

Meanwhile outside Tyler sat there, staring at the house, the familiar front door that he’d walked through so many times in the past. He thought about going up there, knocking, and trying to explain himself—to make her understand that he hadn’t meant to hurt her. But what would he say? How could he explain away the fact that he hadn’t said the one thing she had wanted to hear?

A sigh escaped him as he slumped back against the seat, his hand gripping the steering wheel. He felt like a coward for not going after her, but he knew facing her father at this hour, after dropping her off so late, wasn’t an option. Not without making everything worse.

He pulled out his phone, staring at her name in his contacts, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he typed a short message:

I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you.

He hit send, the words feeling woefully inadequate. Tossing his phone onto the passenger seat, Tyler stared at the house a moment longer, hoping for some kind of sign that everything would be okay. But the front door remained closed, the house dark and silent.

With a heavy heart, Tyler sighed, shifted the truck into reverse, and backed out of the driveway. He could still feel the weight of the unspoken words between them, like a gaping wound that neither of them knew how to heal.

As he drove away, the only thing he could think about was how, in one night, everything had changed between them—and how he might have just lost her forever.

[waterfire1848]

An AU where Zuko is not burnt but only to sent to find the avatar.

Hello, anon!!

1. When Zuko is born, he’s not as horrible a firebender as he is in canon. Not Azula level but still not horrible. His father has a bit more respect for him and sees himself in Zuko. A son who does could have great potential if he’s allowed a chance to show it. This makes Ozai and Ursa put off having another child for a bit. Instead, Azula is born when Zuko is five years old. (Zuko: She’s really small. Ozai: Yes, she is, but she has the strongest firebending potential I’ve ever seen. Zuko: Oh. Ozai: Zuko, when I am not around I expect you to monitor your sister and make sure her firebending is progressing as it should. Zuko: I will, father! Ursa: Zuko, do you want to hold her? Zuko:…..Will she break if I drop her? Ozai: Maybe help him.)

2. Canon proceeds as it normally does, Ursa leaves to protect Zuko and Azula and Zuko grow up in competition with one another. Azula is really young but she’s eager to prove herself to her father and he’s made it clear that she can only do that by being the best firebender. Because of her skill, and at such a young age, Ozai focuses more attention on her and Zuko grows angry. (Yes, 13 year old Zuko is fighting with a eight year old). So angry that, during a dinner, he messes with Azula and accidentally causes her to burn herself in front of everyone and causes her to blind herself in one eye. (Zuko: AZULA! Azula: 😭😭😭 Zuko: Azula! I’m so sorry! Can you look at me? Zula? Azula:…. Zuko: Lala, please.) Because Zuko caused the Princess to be burned in front of everyone (and in such a childish way that will affect her bending) Ozai has no choice but to act. He doesn’t scar Zuko because he still doesn’t want both his children to be damaged but he has to give Zuko come kind of punishment. His choice? Send him to go capture the Avatar.

3. Zuko leaves before Azula wakes up but he orders the healers to send him a letter with any update when it comes up. Iroh, who still lost Lu Ten and fled BSS, comes with him because he believes that this could be a chance for his nephew to see how horrible the Fire Nation is. Zuko heads out on his journey but his mind is wracked with guilt. He can’t get over the fact that he hurt his own little sister that much. Zuko’s guilt gets so bad to the point that he doesn’t even want to find the Avatar because he doesn’t think he deserves the throne. Not only that but the healers eventually wrote him a letter saying Azula is blind in one eye and her hearing is badly damaged. (Zuko fears what his father might do now that his prodigy is damaged). He allows the men to keep looking if they wish, giving them the royal symbol so they can go wherever they want and then he and Iroh abandon the ship. (Iroh: Are you sure this is what you want, nephew? Zuko: I am. Lala- Azula got hurt because of me. I can’t rule a country after I did something like that. Iroh: What happened was not your- Zuko: It was. I messed with her routine. I tried to get her to mess up but she-she was just supposed to fall down. The fire wasn’t supposed to….what would mother think? Iroh: Zuko- Zuko: I need to do this. I deserve this.) Thus, Zuko begins a new life as Li the Earth Kingdom peasant.

4. Many years pass, Zuko goes from 13 to 16, and while there is occasional news from the palace, he doesn’t hear much. Last he heard was that Azula was declared Crown Princess despite her injuries and would inherit the throne when Ozai died. (Zuko refrained himself from sending her a letter). One day, while he’s out at the market, Zuko hears people talking about someone claiming to be the Avatar are traveling the world. Originally, Zuko doesn’t think it’s anything. He thinks this person is probably just some decent waterbender or something and ignores the news but he stops being able to ignore it when the Avatar crashes through his roof. Zuko and Iroh help shelter him from Fire Nation citizens and Aang introduces himself as the Avatar with Katara and Sokka landing Appa a few minutes later. Iroh, despite Zuko’s desire to keep hidden, tells them who they are. Sokka and Katara don’t really want to be anywhere around Fire Nation royalty but Aang just sees a potential firebending master and asks them to come. Against his will, Zuko goes with them and Iroh decides to stay behind to look after their home and keep the village safe.

5. (Zuko: So….what have you guys done so far? Aang: We just left the North Pole! Katara and I learned waterbending there. Zuko: So you’ve mastered air and water, isn’t earth next? Sokka: You know a lot about the Avatar. Zuko: I do. Katara: I have a question: why is the Prince of the Fire Nation hiding in a village. Zuko: I…I just can’t go home right now, so it’s better for me to stay hidden. Sokka: What did you do? Bow incorrectly? 😂 Zuko:….Something a little different.) While the group is flying through the Earth Kingdom, trying to find Aang an earthbending master, they meet three people in Omashu. Zuko is so shocked to see Azula (who’s 11 at the time along with Ty Lee. Mai here is 15.) again when she walks up next to Ty Lee and behind Mai. Azula doesn’t recognize Zuko right away but she does when he starts to bend. Surprising, Ty Lee and Mai, she abandons the Avatar and goes after Zuko instead. Zuko’s been living on a farm for the last few years and Azula has been training to become a weapon despite her injury (one guess as to who wins when they fight). Azula comes seconds away from burning Zuko herself but is stopped by Appa saving him and Gaang flying away. Zuko looks over Appa’s saddle at Azula as they disappear and continue into the Earth Kingdom while Azula gets Ty Lee and Mai ready to hunt down another target.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Once, Always

(Edmund has an abundance of birthdays)

 .

“I say,” murmured Edmund sleepily as the fire burned low. “When do you suppose it is here? I mean—what time of year? Do you think it’s the beginning of September, the same as it was in England?”

“Summer,” said Lucy. “Certainly summer.”

Peter agreed. “I think it must be Highgrass, if I had to guess. Perhaps later. Greenroof?”

“If it’s Greenroof, then Edmund gets another birthday,” Lucy sighed. “Eleven or twelve, Ed?”

“Neither,” put in Susan. “A thousand, if you’re going to rationalize it that way. Now everyone hush, please, and get some sleep.”

.

Edmund’s birthday was the fifteenth day of Greenroof by the Narnian reckoning. Greenroof, late summer, when all the leaves were dark and broad. Narnian summers were long, but Greenroof was the last and best of the summer months. Greenroof was hunts through the dense foliage, blackberries heavy with juice, lazy afternoons, bonfires, wild romps, and the pleasant kind of sweat. Edmund’s birthday celebrations were always held on Dancing Lawn in the old days: the sort of long, laughter-bright nights that summer was made for.

. 

The second time Edmund celebrated his eleventh birthday, it was just past three months since he and his siblings had returned home from the country. Their house was glass-strewn and battered, but still standing when they arrived home. By August it was beginning to feel really safe again, but sometimes Edmund still woke in the night to find his mother standing silent in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her two sons returned to her.

The professor sent one of Ivy’s famous spice cakes for Edmund’s birthday. It arrived tied in red string, which made Lucy reminisce fondly about dear Mr. Tumnus. Edmund’s siblings pooled their allowances to buy him the new Nero Wolfe detective novel, and his mother gave him a new cap and an electric torch.

“How do you feel?” his mother asked over dinner.

“I don’t feel any older, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Eleven feels just the same as ten did yesterday.”

. 

All four of them missed their birthdays the first year in Narnia. Too much else was going on at the time, and none of them was quite sure when their birthdays were supposed to be besides. The measurement of time was a thoroughly tangled issue.

The Narnian year had four hundred days even, divided into fourteen months of inconsistent lengths. Furthermore, the kingdom had only known winter for the last hundred years. The Narnians themselves were still remembering how the calendar worked in a world where the seasons changed. They didn’t have the words yet to explain it to their sovereigns.

. 

“Eustace,” said Edmund, “your journal is wrong.”

“Give me that,” Eustace scowled at once. “I know it’s wrong, but there’s no need to rub my face in it. Aren’t I trying to make up for how I was?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. The month is wrong. You’ve got September written here, but time works differently in Narnia than it does in the Other Place. Haven’t you noticed that it’s summer, not autumn?”

“Oh.” Eustace shrugged. “I followed Occam’s Razor and assumed that the climate here was different rather than time itself.”

“Occam’s what?” This was Lucy.

“Occam’s Razor: the simplest solution to a problem is the most likely—never mind. Well, go on, what month is it?”

“Highgrass,” said Lucy.

“July,” said Edmund at the same moment. “More or less.”

 .

They worked it all out one afternoon as the second spring of their reign was ending. Peter and Susan wrote out the English calendar on one stack of parchment while Edmund and Lucy sat down with the Narnian calendar and penciled in seasonal markers as best they could manage.

“The first crocuses came up right at the end of Cleardome, yes?”

“Yes, I think so. And the snowdrops were in their full glory that month too.”

“How do you want to deal with leap year?”

“Just forget about it. Narnia doesn’t have anything similar, so I think twenty-eight days for February is fine for our purposes.”

“Magnolia in Laceveil, yes?”

“Laceveil is a good marker in general. We ought to set that as May and go from there.”

Birthdays were guesses, no matter how much counting they did. Yet as memories of England receded and Narnia’s world blossomed into everything they knew, those guesses solidified into fact. Edmund turned eleven for the first time on the fifteenth day of Greenroof. He was the first of his siblings to celebrate a proper birthday in Narnia.

. 

The fourth time Edmund turned twelve, he received another electric torch to replace the one he’d lost. He laughed for half a minute, holding that gift in his hand.

“Really, you should have expected it,” said Susan primly.

"I did."

Their mother tsked and added something about keeping track of one’s belongings, but that was alright. His siblings understood.

Edmund flicked on the light and watched the beam land on the far wall across the living room. Bright at the edges and dark towards the center where the bulb was. He moved his wrist sideways and watched the spot of light follow.  

. 

Edmund might have forgotten about his birthday aboard the Dawn Treader if Lucy hadn’t remembered. She conspired with the cook to have a spread of Edmund’s favorite foods at supper (such as could be managed at sea) and coerced Rynelf into playing jigs on his fiddle afterwards. While they were dancing, Caspian called for a cask of his best wine, and soon the ship’s whole company was making merry like only Narnians could.

“Didn’t you have a twelfth birthday the last time you were in Narnia?” Caspian asked curiously as the party was dying down.

“Yes,” Edmund replied, “and the time before that too. Confused yet?”

“Ed has all the luck,” Lucy pouted playfully. “We always seem to return to Narnia in the summer, so he gets all the extra birthdays.”

Caspian's face lit up. “How extraordinary! When’s yours then?”

“Cleardome. There’s a year and a half between Ed and me, and he never lets me forget it.”

“It’s really not as exciting as all that,” Edmund added. “We’re not living our lives backwards, or unstuck in time, or any such nonsense. It’s more like—our lives are folded in on themselves, you see? But never the same way twice.”

“I think it’s more like music than anything else,” Lucy said, a kind of fond wistfulness in her voice.

“Yes,” said Edmund. “I know what you mean.”

. 

On the thirteenth of Greenroof, the Telmarines laid down their arms and surrendered to Old Narnia. The next day, messengers were sent forth across the land with news of the surrender and with terms for the Telmarines. Caspian’s coronation followed, and then Edmund woke and it was his birthday again.

Breakfast that morning was long and languid, for Peter and Susan knew that they must say farewell to Narnia, even if the younger ones did not. They lingered round the table with Caspian and Trumpkin and the rest, and presently Peter offered a toast.

“To my brother King Edmund, who is eleven and twelve and sixty-three and thirteen hundred years old today.”

Everyone raised their cups and repeated, “King Edmund.” Caspian nodded and added, “Long live the king,” with an almost ironic tilt to his head.

Naturally, Edmund nodded back. “And to you, King Caspian. Long may you reign.”

Another round of assent followed, and then Lucy cleared her throat. “But also,” she said, “To late summer and the rebirth of Our Narnia. And to the land, the sea, the hills, the trees, the sky, Cair Paravel-by-the-sea and Dancing Lawn and all the flowers that are still in bloom. And to the color green. To all of us here today, and to those who are gone. And to Aslan.”

“Here, here.”

There were tears in Susan’s eyes now. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, and squeezed Edmund’s hand tight. Edmund looked down at his plate, fiercely overcome with love for this place and these people. In a strict, chronological sense, it had been less than a month since his last birthday, but how did the saying go? Time was just a tangled string, or falling snow, or whatever else Aslan told it to be.

. 

“Bother,” said Edmund, “I’ve left my new torch in Narnia.”

Everyone chuckled at this, but Susan said, “Wait a year. We’ll get you a new one for your next birthday.”

[simshousewindsor]

WHAT IT TAKES

[Buckingsim Palace]

[??]: (inaudible talking)

Queen Katherine: (on the phone) Yes, I see. No, no. Thank you.

Queen Katherine: That was the palace press secretary. In her view, even after the outpouring of love the country showed the family after granny's passing, the steps we've taken haven't done the trick. The rumors about our marriage still haven't gone away.

Prince Rainier: (scoffs)

Queen Katherine: (stands) I think we can both agree, it can't go on like this.

Prince Rainier: Agreed.

Queen Katherine: Let's take this opportunity to talk frankly, with no kids, no Martin, no distractions. Lay our cards on the table about what needs to change to make this marriage work.

Prince Rainier: Well, start! I'm used to going second.

Queen Katherine: If I am to go first -your attitude.

Prince Rainier: My attitude?

Queen Katherine: Yes. It's incessant.

Prince Rainier: You try having other people tell you what to do and when to do it. What to say, and what not to say. It's humiliating!

Queen Katherine: (stern) As a matter of fact, I do! I have also learned more about humiliation in the past few weeks that I truly hoped I would in a lifetime. My government is failing, my family is failing, and my marriage is failing. What's worse, I've never felt more alone than I have in the past three months.

Prince Rainier: Why do you think that is?

Queen Katherine: Because you are no support, Rainier. You have been lost in your role and your self for months. You've shut me out.

Queen Katherine: Okay, I know this marriage has turned out to be far different than what we both imagined and that now we both find ourselves in a...

Prince Rainier: Prison.

Queen Katherine: ...unique situation. We have a marriage that's different than any others where as...

Prince Rainier: Divorce.

Queen Katherine: ...Yes. It isn't an option for us.

Prince Rainier: You're right.

Queen Katherine: So, what do we do? I need you. Our family needs you. You need to leave the past there. What will it take?

Prince Rainier: All right. If you're truly asking. To make it bearable, to make it work... I'd need to feel valued. To feel respected.

Queen Katherine: You are!

Prince Rainier: (stands) No! No, I'm not. None of those sims of your court, cabinet or even government respect me. Their snobbery and prejudice towards me ends. They consider me a foreigner because I'm from Brindleton Bay.

Queen Katherine: You haven't behaved like you've earned their respect!

Prince Rainier: No! I will earn their respect with the only thing that will shut them up and command their respect. My eight year old son out ranks me, and I don't want to hear the old "he's heir to the throne" rhetoric.

- - - - - TWO DAYS LATER - - - - -

[Chambers of The House of Lords - Palace of Windsor, Easton]

[The Duke of Norfolk]: Her Majesty the Queen has been pleased by Letters Patent under the Great Seal of the Realm bearing the date the 19th of November, 2024, to give and to grant under His Royal Highness, the Prince consort, the style and titular dignity of a prince of the United Kingdom of Windenburg. The Prince consort shall henceforth be known as His Royal Highness The Prince Rainier, Prince consort.

- - - - - ACROSS THE HALL - - - - -

[Chambers of The House of Commons]

Richard Philemon [Minister of Energy]: I am here to acknowledge the friendships I had with Miss Emily Wilson and Mr Ezekiel Birch. The former of whom, I last saw in April 2024.

Richard Philemon [M.E.]: There was no impropriety whatsoever in my acquaintanceship with Miss Wilson. I shall not hesitate to issue writs for libel��and slander if scandalous allegations are made or repeated outside the House.

- - - - - ACROSS TOWN - - - - -

[10 Downing Street]

Linwood Keller [Prime Minister]: (angry) Sh*t! He lied on the House floor.

[Aide]: He's doing whatever it takes to save himself. Does he not know this is live?

Linwood Keller [P.M.]: Philemon just ended the Conservatives power in government. The House minority leader is starring him right in the face, knowing he's lying. Call the palace. I need an urgent audience with the queen!

Previous | Beginning | Next

[mariacallous]

Nina Marchenko was in her kitchen when a bomb fell on her cottage. It blew off the roof, demolished the concrete summer house in the garden, and killed her dog, Tulik. Bits of fence were tossed into the air. “There was smoke and that was it,” she said. “A woman died in another strike nearby. I can only curse Vladimir Putin. He’s driven us from our house.”

Last week, Marchenko and her disabled husband, Misha, fled their home in Kupiansk, in the north-east of Ukraine. The Russian army seized the city in the early days of Putin’s 2022 invasion. Ukrainian soldiers took it back eight months later. For most of the last two years the frontline – across the Oskil River and a series of rustic hamlets – barely changed.

In recent weeks, however, the Russians have been advancing. Across the frontline, Ukrainian defences are crumbling at the fastest rate since 2022. In October, Russia swallowed nearly 310 miles (500km) of Ukrainian territory including more than 15 sq miles around Kupiansk. Two-thirds of these losses of territory have been in the neighbouring Donetsk region. Ukraine’s southern sector there is close to collapse.

Russian combat units are now less than two miles from Kupiansk. A little to the south, troops have already reached the Oskil River, turning Ukrainian-controlled territory on the left bank into two separate and shrinking bulges. Bridges across the river are relentlessly bombed. Moscow’s apparent plan is to flatten Kupiansk and then reoccupy it.

Speaking from an office bunker, Kupiansk’s military-civilian mayor, Andriy Besedin, described the situation on the eastern side of the Oskil as “critical”. He said 1,400 people were refusing to evacuate from their homes, despite having no electricity, water or gas. Most were elderly people. They were not pro-Russian, Besedin suggested, but simply unwilling to move out or listen to anxious relatives.

“We are going flat to flat and driving around with loudspeakers. We say: ‘Please leave. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow,’” he said. “The pensioners think the Russians won’t hurt them. We tell them the situation is different from 2022 and that they will get killed.”

“I hope when the weather changes and it’s cold they will finally exit,” Besedin added.

Since the beginning of October the situation in Kupiansk became dramatically worse, the mayor said. Russian kamikaze drones were flying above the city, targeting people waiting at bus stops. “We can’t deliver humanitarian aid. They see a pick-up and hit it with a drone. You can’t outrun them,” Besedin said. About 2,200 residents remained, as missiles crashed around them.

Recently a Russian warplane dropped a 1,500kg guided bomb on the civic building next to Besedin’s office, killing three people. The decorative brick structure was a sprawling mess. Was the Kremlin trying to target the mayor personally? “Yes,” Besedin said. “They’ve tried several times.” Other missiles have struck Kupiansk’s museum, football ground, meat factory, market and palace of culture.

Ukraine was battling against terrorism and dictatorship, Besedin said, and a malevolent axis of countries that included Russia, North Korea and Iran.

“Our guys are fighting for every centimetre. Unfortunately the civilised world isn’t giving us enough weapons. What about democratic values? Stopping Russia is our collective responsibility. If we fail, Putin will attack the Baltic states and Poland,” he said.

Soldiers said conditions on the frontline were tough. “We don’t have enough to shoot with. They fire 10 shells for our one,” said Oleksandr Isaiev, a 59-year-old sapper. The Russians had more personnel and armoured vehicles, he said, and dropped between eight and 12 KAB glided bombs a day on his position. “If one lands on you, you’re dead. They make a hole 5 metres deep and 10 metres’ across,” he said.

Isaiev expressed frustration at the west’s so-called “red lines” and the Biden administration’s persistent refusal to allow Kyiv to hit targets deep inside Russia with US-supplied munitions. The UK and France have not lifted restrictions either. “We have the rockets. But we can’t use them to wallop Russian airfields,” Isaiev said. “Until the US gets over its nervousness, we will lose territory.”

With too few conventional weapons, Ukraine is trying to hold the line using drones. Oleksandr Ivantsov, a drone operator with the 3rd Assault Brigade, said the situation on the left bank was tense. The Russians were constantly trying to storm Ukrainian positions, he said, adding: “There are battles everywhere. Sometimes they succeed. Sometimes they don’t. There are no easy places. They have huge resources.”

This week, streets in Kupiansk were largely deserted. A handful of elderly residents could be seen carrying shopping bags and pushing trolleys. Police on patrol wore body armour. Besedin said he would provide municipal services for as long as possible. “We are fighting on every front: military, administrative and social,” he said. “Everybody is doing what they can. Kupiansk isn’t lost yet.”

Some residents, however, acknowledged it was only a matter of time before the Russians came back. Ksenia Lukyanova said her home city was strategically important and a railway hub. From Kupiansk, a road went south to the town of Izium – occupied and liberated in 2022 – and the garrison city of Sloviansk. Another led to Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second city. To the north was the Russian province of Belgorod.

“During the second world war, Kupiansk was seized and liberated four times. It switched between Soviets and Nazis,” Lukyanova said. Last year a bomb wrecked her home. In September, shrapnel shattered the window of her new apartment in the village of Hrushivka, just outside Kupiansk. “We carry on, keep smiling and try and help each other. Inside we are crying and screaming,” she said. “Our souls hurt.”

Her friend Natalya Surko said most residents in the suburb of Kupiansk-Vuzlovyi were packing up to leave. “At night it’s terrible. You hear a siren and three seconds later an explosion. There’s no time to get dressed. After the first bang, you think: ‘Do I get up or not?’ You don’t.” Surko said she lost her job as Kupiansk’s railway station duty manager when the full-scale war arrived. “I’m paid £40 a month,” she said.

Evacuees from the Kupiansk region are taken to a processing centre in Kharkiv, where they are registered and given medical checkups. Some arrive in their own vehicles; others are brought by minibus or ambulance. So far this month 1,800 people have turned up. Local charities, the UNHCR and the Red Cross dole out emergency parcels. Many of the displaced stay with relatives. Others are allocated dormitories.

The regional administration had issued compulsory evacuation notices to families with children. Lilya Shevchenko, 16, and Nadia Shynkarenko, 14, said they had come from Barove, a left-bank village south of Kupiansk. Every other house was smashed, they said. “The Russians were 30kms away. Now it’s 15 to 20kms. There are a few old ladies left. At night people drive to Izyum and sleep there, because it’s safer,” Lilya said.

She described bombardment as scary but said Russia’s eight-month occupation in 2022 was far worse. “For the first few weeks we had no internet connection. We didn’t know what was happening in Kharkiv. The Russians stole everything. They were drunk. We were afraid to go out on the street.” She last attended school on the day before the invasion, and was studying online, she said.

Queuing up to register, Marchenko said she had left all her belongings behind. “We had a garden with fruit trees and vegetables. But this year it was only weeds because it was impossible to plant anything. As soon as you stepped foot outside they start to shell,” the 72-year-old said. Would she ever go back? “I don’t know. If my house still stands, maybe I will.”

[msmorningstaarr]

Martell Week: "The Night We Met"

Memories of Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

In honour of @martellweek, here we go!

DAY 3: Favourite moment

"Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end? I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?"

-- AFFC

Relationships: past!Ellaria Sand x Oberyn Martell; Ellaria Sand x Loreza Sand

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: coping with grief, angst, fluff, falling instantly in love, mentions to elia’s death

ao3 | masterlist

Oberyn, as the essence of vengeance give us a clear portrait of what so many characters (i.e Arya Stark, Lady Stoneheart) can turn their lives into once injustice reaches its door. Such a wholehearted moment where Ellaria mourns and only clings herself onto what is left for her of her love: memories and her daughters. Thinking about this, I wrote it inspired by the song "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron. Please, indulge yourselves.

Hellholt settled amongst the harsh dornish desert and sultry dunes of sand, quite near a river, though. The castle had its architecture projected to be more fresh, blow a breeze inside of it and thus, manage for the ones living there survive the scalding heat of the country. However, even with ancestral technology the castle had its days where the sun would invade everything and make its overwhelming presence, burning and melting all the things it could reach. Tonight would be one of these nights. Either way, Loreza cuddled and crawled towards her mother for a sorrowful embrace through quiet sobs from mother and daughter.

Little by little, the eight daughters of Oberyn were coping with his unfortunate death. Ellaria, his paramour, felt at a loss for words or actions. He was her one, true love. A strong and pure bond of a lifetime… and she lost him right in front of his eyes. Ever since the day Oberyn had his head crushed by the Mountain, the scene repeated itself in her mind and the exasperated sound yearned to leave her throat again and again and again, but nothing left her lips, not even a slight sigh. In an attempt to seek her own solace, she isolated herself in her own safe space: home. 

The air inside Hellholt felt heavy, mirroring the weight on Ellaria’s heart. The loss of Oberyn, a man whose fiery spirit once echoed through the halls of the castle, left an indelible void. The mourning period stretched on, and each day seemed to blur into the next. Loreza found solace in the memories her mother told her, in the moments shared with Oberyn, but the pain of his absence was a constant ache. The girl of only seven years of age had so little time with her father and was already well aware at such young age about the horrors of grief. 

Ellaria moved through the castle like a shadow, her laughter and energy diminished, if not vanished at all. The absence of her paramour presence was palpable. In the evenings, when the desert sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the sand, Hellholt became a fortress of memories and sorrow.

Ellaria, once a vibrant force within the castle, now moved with a quiet grace. She retreated to the chambers they once shared, surrounded by the remnants of Oberyn's essence—his books, his trinkets, and the lingering scent of his favourite perfumes. She found comfort in the familiar, even as the world outside seemed to lose its colour.

Loreza clung to Ellaria as a source of stability. The two shared a profound understanding of grief, and their silent embraces spoke volumes. As the night settled over Hellholt, Loreza's tears merged with the sorrowful whispers of the desert wind outside.

In the dimly lit chambers, Ellaria calmly embraced her daughter as she gently involved her small arms around her mother. Ellaria traced the contours of her face, as if trying to find traces of Oberyn in her features. Memories of their passionate moments flooded her mind, both a balm and a torment.

“Mother,” Loreza muttered.

“Yes, sweetling.” Ellaria replied.

“Tell me about the day you met papa again.” Loreza asked, drawing invisible patterns with her fingers over her mother’s belly.

Ellaria beamed, gently caressing her daughter's black curls. “Of course.” A sad smile rose on her face.

It was a bright night in Sunspear when I accompanied my father on a journey to pay our condolences to House Martell in honour of your aunt, late Princess Elia. Your father missed her dearly and his eyes were never seen so lost. Her body was brought back to Dorne a long time after her assassination and your uncle, Prince Doran, invited the lords of Dorne for her funeral, once she was a beloved princess as I told you once. I never met her in person, but I know she was perfect for all that your lord father has told me of her. I was grieving too. My mother had died not so long ago after the princess’ death. But on the night I met your father, his eyes lingered on mine and stared at me for what felt like an eternity. Oberyn was rather impulsive as a man, but that night he was quiet as the grass that hides a serpent. And then, I decided to be bald. That night, heat consumed me as much as consumed us tonight and I could not find any sleep, so I walked towards his chambers in the middle of the night and knocked on his door. His eyes sparkled with a puzzled and amused expression for my action, but he remained silent. We just looked into each other’s eyes. Then I just spoke.

“I know how it feels to lose a loved one.”

Loreza listened to everything and changed her expression at any nuance of her mother’s story. Her tears had drowned as her mother spoke so softly about her father and even allowed herself to smile whenever it came to remember the memory of her maidenhood.

Then, your father replied. “Come in, my lady.” And I entered his private quarters for the first time, but quickly remembered to correct him.

“I am no lady. I am a bastard.” And I said it proudly, as I always taught you and your sisters. He smiled at me for the first time and poured me a glass of wine.

“Bastards are born from passion.” Your father told me. “I have four of them with me. The second one reminds me of Elia the most.” 

“Your fame is well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms, my Prince.” I replied, gazing at his brown eyes. 

“You may call me Oberyn.” Your father calmly said. But after this, he went back sad again and I just sat by his side and held his hand while he stared at the floor. I was so instantly drowned into his beauty I paid no mind to speak anything, I just wanted to be near my Oberyn.

Suddenly, he looked into my eyes and questioned me. “Who did you lose?” I believe he thought I made that up to get near him. His peek examined me with profound depth.

And I promptly responded to him. “My mother, not so long ago.” 

His fingers entangled on mine and I felt a rush, my eyes burned and my heart beat in exhilaration, a feeling you will feel once you reach your maidenhood, sweet girl. I was already in love. “Then I pay you my condolences.” That is just what he said.

“Grief is a relentless companion, one that we must navigate through the storm. Losing someone we love changes us, shapes us into beings capable of enduring the harshest of winds.” The wine in my hand tasted bittersweet, a reflection of the shared sorrows that had brought us together. “But the sun one day will shine on us again, Prince Oberyn.”

For a moment, the weight of grief seemed to lift as I sat there, hand in hand with my Prince of Dorne. The vulnerability he displayed, the raw honesty in his eyes, created a connection that transcended titles and societal norms. And there, he was no longer a prince and I was no longer a bastard. It was only him and I. We were two souls seeking solace in the midst of heartache.

“Thank you.” Your father told me earnestly and a shadow casted over his eyes, following for a soft tear falling from his eyes. It was the first and last time I saw your father cry and I did what felt most logical… I kissed his cheek exactly where his tear fell apart. I remember it all like a vivid dream, right in front of my face. Oberyn instantly kissed my lips with no shame or any feeling a grown person should feel, but only tenderness and comfort. Ever since, Oberyn pleaded for me to stay with him and Sunspear and never let me go. Not so long after, your sister Elia was born. And then Dorea, Obella and lastly you, Loreza. 

Loreza’s eyes fluttered with a comforting expression, leaving a soft tear fall from her eyes. 

I grew up thinking I could never love someone nor be loved with such devotion and there he was, loving me since our first kiss. I felt that love, my little snake. For I loved him right then too. And I hope that you and your sisters experience this type of love too. That is why I yearn for peace. I wish no mourn for any of you… just pure love.

With this, Loreza tried to merge her body into Ellaria, wiping her tears on her mother’s nightgown. “I miss him, mama.” 

“I know, sweetling. I miss him too.” Ellaria said, quietly sobbing. “But now it is past time for you to sleep, love. I already told you a bedtime story, so close your eyes and get some rest.”

Loreza nodded and tried to reach her pillow close to Ellaria, but before she would close her eyes, the little girl turned to her mother and spoke. “Do you think I will dream of papa tonight?” 

Ellaria sighed and caressed her daughter's brown curls, with a broken smile. “That is all I could hope for.”

[astrangetorpedo]

Lucy Dacus Brings It All Back Home

by Hilary Saunders | 9/2/16

Back in March, when Lucy Dacus and her band passed through Boise, Idaho to play the opening night of Treefort Music Festival, every single member of the group—rolling four deep—wore shirts and caps that bore a variation on their home state’s motto: “Virginia Is For (Music) Lovers.” Before their set, they had stopped in Bleubird, locally considered Boise’s best sandwich shop, and while they waited in a line that stretched out the door, Dacus and the boys chatted eagerly and earnestly with those around them—especially if they asked about their shirts.

Four months later at the Harrison Street Café, one of her favorite sandwich shops in her hometown of Richmond, Virginia, Dacus remembers the festival fondly. Her debut album No Burden had only been out for about a month at the time, courtesy of Richmond indie EggHunt Records, and Boise was the farthest west the band had ever performed.

A lot has changed since then. Dacus has toured with indie-rock darlings like The Decemberists and Lord Huron, and impressed festival audiences at South by Southwest and Lollapalooza. On September 9, Matador Records will re-release No Burden, with the hopes that its eight songs will catapult the 21-year-old further into the scene’s fickle mainstream.

Comprised of Dacus’ first recorded works, No Burden showcases the singer/songwriter at her most revealing. Her contralto, which she manipulates from a whisper to a cry, conveys both self-awareness and self-deprecation. Meanwhile, the band, comprised of a traditional guitar-bass-drums set-up, stretches its volume and dynamics to parallel extremes, allowing Dacus to transform from demure chanteuse to rock band leader—sometimes even within the same song. Case in point: on lead single “I Don’t Want To Be Funny Anymore,” Dacus laments “being the odd man out” and “being the biggest fan,” right before the song erupts into a guttural roar. The album’s seven-and-a-half-minute centerpiece, “Map On A Wall” opens with Dacus acknowledging her physical flaws and begging, “Oh please, don’t make fun of me / of my crooked smile and my crowded teeth / of my pigeon feet, of my knobby knees,” but the song eventually builds to a tense crescendo, Dacus repeating similar lyrics with more force and tenacity.

Sitting in a corner booth upstairs in the café, Dacus explains, “I make an effort to voice what I’m most sensitive about, because I know everyone else feels that way, too. The biggest hold-up, when it comes to insecurity, is when you think you’re alone in it. When you realize that you’re not, it’s easier to deal with. It’s just that somebody has to be the first person to break the ice of internal anxiety.”

Dacus grew up in Richmond’s neighboring town of Mechanicsville (its most famous export is Jason Mraz). She didn’t necessarily suffer from “extreme internal anxiety,” but she did drift in and out of the precarious social structures of the popular crowd in elementary and middle school. By the time she got to high school—the prestigious Maggie L. Walker Governor’s School, which is coincidentally located just down the street from the Harrison Street Café—she had found like-minded creative friends, and Richmond started to feel more like a home.

Although Dacus initially enrolled at Virginia Commonwealth University—also located near the café—to study film, she left after her second semester sophomore year to travel in Europe. Before leaving the country, she recorded what would become No Burden to help out now-bandmate Jacob Blizard on one of his college recording finals at Oberlin. It never occurred to either of them to release the recordings. “We were just going to put it on Bandcamp for our friends and family to see,” she says. “It’s the only accessible place for start up musicians to put their work.”

When Dacus returned, EggHunt Records’ co-founder Adam Henceroth saw her opening for his label’s own signees, Manatree. As Henceroth remembers, he only intended to watch Dacus for a few minutes.

“I sat in the front row like, ‘Hey lemme catch a few seconds of this before I meet this other guy backstage.’ Well, I forgot about whatever I was doing. Forty minutes later after being glued to her set, I was speechless,” he says. “The thing about Lucy is that, literally within 60 seconds of listening to her, you’re immediately drawn into her world. You’re caught in a tractor beam of sorts. She hits you square in the head and speaks to your heart.”

Both in person and on No Burden, Dacus radiates that emotional authenticity that Henceroth describes. Part of that stems from her Richmond upbringing—specifically, the fact that Dacus was adopted. That fact is a bit oblique on the record; she never sings about her experience directly. But the lessons she learned reveal themselves in certain places—the album title itself is a reminder that we are not a duty to those who love us. They reflect Dacus’ desire to seek meaningful connections, especially when we are at our most vulnerable.

“[Adoption has] totally impacted what I write, because one of first things I learned as a philosophy was that life is worthwhile,” She says, “So much so that a bunch of people had to sacrifice a lot so that I would have one. As a four-year-old, that’s what I already knew.”

The most impressive element of Dacus’ debut is that while so much of No Burden resulted from growing up in Richmond, its messages transcend the city that raised her and embraced her. And everyone from EggHunt to Matador to the fans she’s gained in the meteoric past nine months seem to realize it. “It’s real cool how Lucy has seemed to stay true to her roots,” says Henceroth. “She talks about Virginia a lot, and she never had any obligation to include [EggHunt] in her story, but she did. She comes across as really honest. You can hear it in her music. There’s no pretense. She’s not trying to be something she’s not. It’s all coming from her. That’s the magical part of it.”

(x)

[havenmoon1369]

Not Again (Sequel to Getting Her Back)

- Chapter 5

"Who the hell is this?" Drew asked in a deep tone, "What? You don't remember your old leader from 3MB?" the country voice said, then it dawned on Drew "Heath, what are you doing mate? Do you have Quinn?" "We'll get to her in a minute, I guess I owe you an explanation" Heath said. "You're damn right you do! Heath what the fuck is wrong with you? You've kidnapped my daughter!" Drew yelled into the phone, "Woah woah big man if you wanna know how to get her back I suggest you shut up and listen to me" Heath demanded. Drew took a deep breath "All right Heath I'm all ears", "I got fired because of you, they wanted to make room for you, what makes you so special huh? I had been with the WWE for eight years, and they brought you back the first chance they got and said the hell with me, my wife left took the kids too, I ain't got nothing to show for after eight fucking years, but they bring you back and make you IC champion within a month? Eight fucking years and what did I get in all that time? A few tag team championships with nobodies and that's it! No pushes, no other championships, nothing! Just low card matches to pay me the minimum. What I am betting is though, they're paying you good money, where you and your kid can live comfortably and still have money put back. You want your kid back Drew? Then one of two things is gonna happen, you're either gonna get me back on the roster with a high paying contract or you're gonna pay me twice what you're gonna be making, that's the only way you're getting your kid back."

Drew sat there in silence and anger for a few seconds before speaking "Let me get this straight, you blame me for your firing and in exchange for my kid you want ransom?" Drew asked calmly, "Yeah pretty much" Heath said sinisterly. "Heath please don't hurt her, I'll get you what you asked for just please don't do anything, she's been through a lot, she has severe anxiety, if she starts to have an attack you don't know how to calm her" Drew said worried. "What are you talking about man, why does she have anxiety, isn't it just something all kids go through, what's the big deal? Heath said jokingly "No Heath it's not something all kids go through, she has it because this isn't the first time she's been kidnapped by someone from my past! Six months ago we were taken because of something I did when I was younger. The bastard broke her arm and nearly drowned her, I almost lost her. Now you've taken her and the only thing I can think of doing is ripping your fucking head off your shoulders, but I won't do that in order to keep Quinn safe, but you have to promise me something. I'm going to get you what you want, but in return you don't hurt Quinn physically or mentally, you do not scare her in any way, and you let me talk to her whenever you call because I know you and I know these situations, you'll call. You also come up with some story about how you're keeping her there for her safety and not that she's been taken. Do we have a deal? Drew asked. Heath was quiet, shocked by what he had just heard, it had jolted him into reality, finally after a few seconds he responded "Fine Drew, you get me what I want and I'll keep in touch with you, and I won't scare or hurt Quinn, I still remember how she looked up to me, you, and Jinder, she's a sweet kid. But if you screw up Drew then I'm going to forget about our friendship and deal real quick, I'll call you in the morning to see what the update is, you can speak to Quinn then." Heath hung up the phone.

Drew's mind immediately started racing and his anger boiled inside of him. "Not again, this can't be happening, why her? Why can't they just leave her alone" Drew said to himself, with tears streaming down his face. He tried to formulate a plan but his thoughts were all over the place, about that time Stephen came walking in, saw Drew crying and started to get worried. "What's the matter bro?" Stephen asked, "She's gone, Heath took her" Drew said crying, "What do you mean Heath took her? Heath took Quinn?" Stephen asked panicked, Drew nodded, "We have to report Drew! They could still catch them tonight" "No Stephen you don't understand, he's planned this for months, he's sent threatening messages since before I came back, I tried having them traced but it led to nowhere, he knows what he's doing, and he'll hurt Quinn if I don't pay the ransom." Drew said panicked, "How much does he want?" Stephen asked, "He wants either twice my salary which would be close to 500 grand, or he wants his job back with that amount on his contract." Drew responded. "He's a bloody idiot if he thinks he's getting his job back after taking your kid. Drew, listen we still need to report it, is he going to call you again? Stephen asked, Drew nodded, "Okay if he sees it's been reported you tell him you had nothing to do with it, that someone else reported it and that you didn't tell the police about the ransom, that you're still gonna pay him no matter what, that way if someone does see them they can get her back" Stephen said. "Okay let's call, but I need to talk to Hunter, explain this whole thing to him, and see if he can help with this ransom situation, the money has to come from somewhere, and I don't have 500k just lying around" Drew said wiping his tears away. "I'm sure he'll help, let's call the police bro, sooner we do the better." Stephen said.

2 hours later... Birmingham, AL

Heath was backing into the driveway of the house he had rented, he got Quinn out of the backseat and took her into the house and laid her down on the couch. He went back outside and covered his SUV with a car cover and went back inside. He turned on the TV and saw there was an Amber Alert out for Quinn with Heath as the main suspect and a description of the car that matched Heath's SUV. Heath had planned for that as well, he had already changed the license plate so it couldn't be traced. "Drew, you've already made a mistake." 

[meizhous]

. . . dependent original character for nightrestrp : ZHOU MEI \

more links : pinterest. connections. playlist.

[ esther yu, cis woman, she/her ] - was that ZHOU MEI i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the TWENTY-EIGHT year old who has been in nightrest for TWENTY-TWO YEARS and works as a/an OWNER & ATTENDENT OF TURBO has a reputation of being CHEERFUL, but also DITZY they reside in FOG GATE & people in town usually associate them with at MISMATCHED SHOES, THE SCENT OF DAWN LAUNDRY DETERGENT, COLORFUL CLOTHING, A BRIGHT SMILE, AND AN ELECTRIC SCOOTER WITH A FEW DENTS. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

BASIC INFORMATION:

FULL NAME: Zhou Mei

NICKNAMES: Mei (pronounced May)

DATE OF BIRTH: July 30th, 1994 (28)

ETHNICITY: Chinese

FACE CLAIM: Esther Yu

HAIR & EYE COLOR: Dark Brown & Varying Hair Colors

HEIGHT: 5’5”

TATTOOS & PIERCINGS: Multiple tattoos and piercings

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

OCCUPATION: Owner & Attendant of Turbo

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English, Mandarin

BACKGROUND: 

Born in Guangzhou, China to a middle-class family, Mei only spent the first six years of her life in her home country before her family immigrated to the US, settling in the small town of Nightrest and her parents opening up the local laundromat in town. Coming here at a young age, Mei grew up largely westernized, but spoke Mandarin at home with her parents for the majority of her life, often the one to translate for them from a young age. Other than the occasional childlike annoyance she has towards her traditional parents, Mei feels like she grew up in a loving family. Her mother wasn’t entirely pleased to see her daughter didn’t grow up to become something more, but both of her parents still loved her unconditionally. 

She attended the local high school in town, but was seen as a little weird by her peers, and was bullied in high school due to her never following the norm or fitting in. Mei was viewed as eccentric, always showing up to school in some kind of costume or flashy handmade outfit that she’d put together herself. She’d never been the kind of girl to think too much of what people thought about her, but up until she grew older, she was a bit shy at times despite her bold appearance. Fashion was big interest of hers, dreaming of becoming a fashion designer since she was young and cherishing the small sewing machine her father had gotten her as a kid. 

When she went off to Salem State University for college, there wasn’t any fashion programs, and her parents didn’t have the money to send her to any technical schools further away. So she majored in Peace and Conflict Studies because she figured it would get her out of her shell more and understand people better, though besides being a good conversation maker, Mei never used her degree for any monetary purposes.

Never having left Nightrest as she went to school a short drive away, Mei spent a lot of free time at her parent’s laundromat, working there as the sole attendant before her parents eventually gave the business to her. There wasn’t exactly that much to do besides count the money made at the end of the week, but having worked there since she was in her teens, Mei felt comfortable at Turbo, spending more time there than in her own home. After she became owner, she set up a sewing station in the back, using her free time to learn how to make clothes. Over time, she developed a habit of working on any clothes people would leave behind on accident, racks of upcycled clothes filling the storage room. 

HEADCANONS

Unironically says the word pookie. Will call pretty much anyone in it very endearingly but finds it a little funny to use it as a nickname for the scarier people in town. Mei likes to address people with a bright smile, so she hopes no one takes it personally

Has a very impulsive nature. Tends to say and do the wrong thing pretty often and finds serious emotions uncomfortable.

Super cheerful and happy all the time!! With all the death happening around town, it feels a little harder to stay upbeat, but Mei tries her best to be there for her, and even tries to resolve fights with her four years of educational experience

Is in love with the girly/fairy aesthetic. Still continues to wear outfits that get her side eyes from other people in town, and is often wearing her favorite color pink.

Also enjoys baking, mostly because she can’t bake. Mei has recently been getting into making savory baked goods, but learning new things has always been a little hard so her first attempts have all been inedible

A bit of a puppy dog in nature. Often trails behind her friends and gets distracted easily. If something is shiny she pretty much has to stop and look, getting excited over anything fun and new. Mei also cannot plan things to save her life, always finding herself sidetracked.

Owns a car and an Vespa but she often prefers to ride her scooter around in Nightrest since the town is fairly small. It's light pink and has been dented from the number of times she's accidentally dropped it.

Has a grandmaster red belt in mixed martial arts. Her parents signed her up for classes when they moved to America, and it just happened to stick. For most of her youth, she took classes at a rundown down dojo in Salem, but continues to practice every now and then, offering free weekend classes at Trident Fitness.

Has made her fair share of mistakes in her life, especially when she was in high school. Friends with Sawyer and Grey, the three of them dared one of their friends to jump off one of the beach's cliffs, leading to their death. It’s something Mei thinks about from time to time, regretful that she’d encouraged it and thought it was no big deal.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

best friends/ride or die

exes (m/f/nb)

flings/hookups

people for her to annoy <3

bad/good influences on her

idk anything everything pls

[thecelestexzhao]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CELESTE ZHAO]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [NATASHA LIU BORDIZZO]. You must be the [TWENTY-EIGHT] year old [BARTENDER AT THE REEF BAR]. Word is you’re [RESILIENT] but can also be a bit [DISTRUSTING] and your favorite song is [RETROGRADE BY MAGGIE ROGERS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

Celeste was raised by her single mother, jumping around from crappy apartments and motels for as long as she could remember. Her entire life she’d only been told one thing about her father: that the man had cheated on her mother and had abandoned them when Celeste was only a few weeks old. And with that being the main focal point of Cel’s relationship with men, she grew up not really trusting them, her mother’s bitter voice always ringing in her head: giving your heart away will always lead to heartache.

And her mother’s bitterness definitely helped form the type of person Celeste had turned out to be. As a child she had been sweet, had been one of the friendliest girls in school and always willing to help someone with their homework or give a hand in studying, but sometimes that kindness was used against her, people taking using it to their advantage and making her outright do assignments for her) but as someone who grew up being told she’d been given up, Celeste was willing to take any sort of ‘friendship’ or validation, willing to be a people pleaser if it meant having people in her life.

Especially since her life back home wasn’t exactly as pleasing.

Her mother had turned resentful at losing her husband and her life ending up going nowhere, and at times she even put the blame for it all on Celeste, saying she was to blame for her father leaving them since she’d never been a planned pregnancy. Her mother oftentimes would be drunk at night, passed out on the couch, or wouldn’t come home at night at all. Celeste never got absolute confirmation, but one could put two and two together as to why her mother would come home after a day or two with wads of cash. So whenever she was at home, Cel stayed in her room, turning to books and writing and art as her comfort. Soon enough she had a canvas in the corner of her room, paintings strewn throughout. She’d never be caught without a sketchpad, or without paint stains on her clothes. It was an escape and something that she was truly good at and was hers. But with the way her mother was, and how fake the ‘friendships’ she’d has was, Cel herself had started to turn more cynical. More closed off and bitter. She couldn’t truly trust anyone, and sure as hell couldn’t depend on anyone, so as Celeste got older, she got more closed off, which is how she still is now. Never let them close enough to have the chance to hurt you.

But despite her home life (or lack thereof) Celeste did pretty well in school, graduating high school with decent grades. She couldn’t afford college though--hell, they could barely afford to keep a roof over their heads. So instead of going to school, Cel just started taking odd jobs once they’d settled into a little town in Chicago, bartending and waitressing, anything that could pay the bills. Life went on like that for years until finally now, Celeste has had enough. She wants to start actually living her life for herself. So much so that she quit her job in Chicago, gathered up what little money she had and finally left home, and her mother, behind. Wanting to go somewhere completely new, she flew across the country to California, and arrived in Aurora Bay, quickly getting herself a job as a bartender (since it’s what she’s good at) and getting herself her own little apartment, ready to start fresh--because after all, where better to go to start your life over again than paradise?

extras:

birthday- september 26th

nicknames- cel, celly

she often writes or paints at night as the house was quiet then growing up. big moon lover because of it

is fluent in mandarin along with english

big believer in crystals and the properties they wield

aesthetics: scribbled notes on napkins, worn-in converse, moonlight reflected on the water, sleepless nights lit by candlelight, red wine splatters on hardwood, hair picked up by a pen, crystals hidden in pockets

connections

pinboard

appearance:

long dark hair almost always picked up

height: 5′5

eyes: dark brown

usually wearing older clothes (jeans, converse, plaid shirts over tank tops)

she wears glasses to read or when writing or painting.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[aishangotome]

Chapter 6-11 Guangling Has Good News (廣陵有好音)

Chapter 6-7

.

.

.

Female Official: Have you learned the palace rules at the Fu residence?

Female Official: Don't cause trouble. If you offend Lady Dong, we won't be able to save you.

I listened to her nagging as we walked along the long and winding palace paths.

Female Official: The Emperor is currently receiving Lady Fu at Weiyang Palace. Remember to be cautious and speak properly. Say "good tidings" and don't have an accent.

You: Yes, I understand.

-

I followed the female official to Weiyang Palace.

Emperor Liu Xie and Consort Fu Shou were talking on the veranda. But from a distance, they just looked like two little children in fine clothes, around eight or nine years old...

Fu Shou: Your servant, Consort Fu Shou, greets Your Majesty.

Liu Xie: The Palace Attendant sent over the complete edition of "Biographies of Exemplary Figures" recompiled by the Guo family. I remembered you like it, so I invited you to come and see it.

Fu Shou: Thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty.

I can't take it anymore... I want to laugh... It feels like they're playing house...

-You try not to laugh-

You: Ugh!

Liu Xie: What's wrong with that palace maid over there? Is she unwell?

Liu Xie: Look at the first volume, it's said to be handwritten by Xun Shu himself... Palace Attendant Guo added annotations here.

Fu Shou: Is this how Palace Attendant Xun interprets this passage? Such profound knowledge...

The two children huddled together like little sparrows over a box of ancient texts, chatting for a long time.

Liu Xie: You there, palace maid, come here – can you tell me how to pronounce this character?

I obeyed and looked at the bamboo slip he was pointing at. Liu Xie's finger rested on a word...

"Guangling."

You: .................This...

Fu Shou: The Emperor is asking you a question, why don't you answer?

My eyes met Liu Xie's briefly, then we both looked away nonchalantly.

You: ...That's my hometown.

Liu Xie: That's perfect. I'm a bit tired today and don't feel like reading. I'd like to hear you talk about your hometown.

We had met a few times in Luoyang Palace when the situation was more stable, and he had already recognized me.

You: I know! How about we play with paper cuttings? I'll make paper dolls for you two.

You: I'll tell you stories about my hometown while we cut the paper.

-

You: Your Majesty, can you hear me through the Paper Heart?

You: Without further ado, I'm here to rescue you...

Paper Heart (Liu Xie): Chang'an is a dangerous place, you cannot stay long. Please leave as soon as possible, Prince of Guangling.

You: You want to stay in Chang'an, as the Emperor of the Han dynasty, to stabilize the people's hearts?

Paper Heart (Liu Xie): How can the Emperor abandon his people and flee?

Paper Heart (Liu Xie): The Emperor is the Son of Heaven, and also the son of all people under Heaven.

Paper Heart (Liu Xie): A ruler dies for his country. I am prepared, please do not act further, Prince of Guangling.

-

You: Today, I'll play paper cutting with Your Majesty and the Consort.

Liu Xie: Palace maid, serving Fu Shou in Chang'an, do you ever get "homesick"?

You: Don't worry, Your Majesty, I don't get "homesick."

He turned away, his young face furrowed in a frown.

You: Your Majesty, Consort, look at these two little paper people.

-You put on a puppet show with the paper dolls to persuade Liu Xie to leave the palace-

You: Little person A says: "The flood is coming, we must leave the village quickly."

You: Person B says: "If you all leave, and I leave too, then the village will cease to exist." And so, person B was swept away by the flood.

You: Little person A returned to the ruins and erected a monument for person B. But person B's family perished, leaving only this monument.

Liu Xie: ...The monument remains in the world, enough for passersby to know of person B's virtue.

You: A year later, another flood came. This time, the monument was also submerged, leaving nothing behind.

You: Person A would often weep while remembering his friend, "Why did you die?!"

Liu Xie lowered his head, his lips trembling, as if wanting to speak.

But just then, a hand reached out from beside him and tightly grasped mine.

.

.

.

Chapter 6-13

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[arcanummagea]

Ending's and Beginning's. A Solo.

The Red Death held a tight grip over Aestrias, in the year 550. It takes no amount of remembering to recall such plague over his homeland. New graves sit snug beside five year old headstones from a war three years ago, leaving behind orphans and widows.

Kieran had been eight during the plague, sick in bed several days. His mother was warned not to be near him, in fear of catching it herself but that did not stop Lumeyia Valeta. He looks at her with dull eyes, trying to smile as rashes ran rampant across his body.

Blood drips past his lips again, as she wipes it away with her cloth. "Will you tell me a story, about Anayu and Raava?" Lumeyia arched a brow.

"Didn't I tell you that last week?"

"It's my favorite."

"Oh, very well, only for you and your sisters," she poked him on the nose, beginning her tale. "Our God used to be friends with a mortal named Raava, as you know.

He taught Raava all that he knew and his knowledge was vast, unaware that this mortal had a whole other agenda in mind, wishing to harness God's power." She stopped.

Kieran raised his gaze upward, his eyes widened to see blood seeping past his mother's lips, coughing it out some landed onto his shirt. As the weeks went,

Lumeiya suffered. The nurses could do nothing nor the shaman woman of their village.Though he knew it was not his fault, that he did not beckon his mother to enter his room, he still blamed himself for her death. He knew not how long he stayed by his mother's grave that day, until he felt the hand of the Seer woman

touch his shoulder. Her nails dug into his shoulder. "Get up, Valeta. Your father's becoming concerned."

All had been quiet as they trekked back. Until he at last spoke. His pale blue eyes were like flames of ice, looking direct at the woman. "I know you do not teach men your ephemera, Hroza…but please…"

She looked at him with amusement, head cocked to one side. "It's not an easy of task Kieran. You may burn yourself…or freeze." "I can handle it. I want to handle it."

"Very well. Come see me at dawn, tomorrow, no late."

So he had. She was right. When he first tried Fire, he burned his left hand terribly enough for it to scar. Blizzard was a similar of action. Lightning always strikes twice. He almost drowned himself with Water. On a bleak day in late Autumn, at the age of thirteen, he marveled in awe when he had at last controlled Blizzard.

His father had been delighted, along with little Anjiji and young Tala. Uliah masked her bitterness over the fact she was not an Arcane Mage like her brother. He never bragged in front of her, spite the praise from everyone.

A letter from King Validus, rumors were abound he had maddened after banishing his own daughter whom was only fourteen years old, loathing her for having fae like magic.

"You're really leaving, I see..." she murmured. Leant against his doorway.

His ears twitch at her tone. Glancing over his shoulder. "You're angry."

"Only of the fact you're throwing your life away, for one man."

He breathed through his nose, knowing Uliah would be like this. His mother often told him Uliah took her anger out on those she loved most, of the fact it was easier.  "Validus is our king, sis...he's done so much for everyone."

Poor fool. If only he had the knowledge that he does now.

"It would seem you've forgotten what this country has done to mages in the past." She retorted, angry tears burning behind her eyes. "Kieran....if you don't come back..."

A hand is placed atop her head. She stilled some though he could see she was still fighting them. "I'll be fine, okay? Please...I'll visit when I can."

"I'll come and visit Uliah, don't make this difficult please?"

Uliah said nothing. He does not flinch hearing her bedroom door slam. Anjiji casts a weary glance when he kisses the top of her head. He kneels to Tala's level, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck.

"Come back safe, Kiki please?"

"I'll try...love you guys."

Nox was waiting for him, his pet werecat think of a lynx like creature but bigger and stronger. Kieran pets his dear friend's head with a gloved hand, and does not look back.

[thestoryadventures]

Back in 2016 my mother and I decided to drive across the country and meet up with the rest of the family in Florida. Being from Spokane Washington it would mean driving an estimated 5,000 miles round trip with my German shepherd named Karma and my Great Pyrenees mix named Albert Einstein. Most people said, “you’re nuts” or “you will end up killing each other by the time it’s over.” To our surprise we had an incredible adventure. A lot of what we experienced was activities that needed to include two big dogs, with a few ‘human-like’ things. Six years later and five trips taken, on my birthday in April of 2022, Karma lost her battle with time and passed away at the age of 14 1/2. We left for the sixth trip three days later. With the loss of Karma on my mind we took our time, driving the long way and headed straight down the middle of California to Yosemite and then on to Texas then Florida. It was the longest of the six trips we had taken. Mom knew I needed the time to reflect and relax before heading back to life. So, the return trip consisted of driving up the east coast feeling blessed for what I still had with me and mourning the loss of my best friend, Karma. As we hit Virginia, we decided to take a left and make it back to Spokane for my youngest nephew’s birthday. For the next three months my bond with my other dog, Albert Einstein, grew deeper. When suddenly one morning I woke to find him having a full blown seizure. After rushing him to the pet emergency, it was later determined that the seizure was caused by brain cancer. With my mom and sisters by my side I had to make the ultimate, heart-breaking decision and have Albert Einstein put to sleep so he would be out of pain. I went dogless for a month only to come across a Craigslist ad for a Siberian Shepherd with no pictures. Spontaneously, I emailed him and asked if he had any girls available, to which, a short time later he responded. After seeing one picture of three girls I was quickly in ahh of one in particular. She had the most mesmerizing heaven and earth eyes, one blue and one brown. I decided to go for it. When deciding what to name her, I figured it should be one of the two things that got me through losing my two best friends. Her name was going to be Faith, either that or antidepressant. So, with my twin sister and mom in tow, we drove to Seattle and I adopted one of the most beautiful and energetic puppies I’ve ever laid my eyes on. While training the new puppy, I asked my mom, “So, do you want to do a seventh trip across country with this energizer bunny?” Her reply, “We will see, she should start to settle down at nine months old.” That being said and with fingers crossed, we started to plan the seventh adventure that would include the last eight states we hadn’t seen yet. This time with Faith as a new road trip companion. Then, with roughly two months to go, mom had a terrible accident on the stairs and bumped her head. Ending in an emergency surgery for a brain bleed caused by the blood thinners she had been taking for 35 years. We held vigil by her beside praying for a miracle. Unfortunately, on Valentines Day 2023 mom passed away. Left with the utter grief and shock of losing my three adventure buddies within a year, my brother-in-law made a unique suggestion. Why don’t the remaining family members go on that seventh trip and see the last eight states, all while leaving a little of mom’s ashes in each. Then we would proceed to Florida for her last wish, to be buried at sea.

This is a story full of sadness and loss, blossoming into grateful hearts coming together for mom to honor and memorialize. her. Family, learning how short life can truly be. Please consider following along for what is to come.

[blueeyesspitfire]

Megavan

One of the most frequently asked questions I get is, “How do you transport so many dogs!?” And in my years of mushing, I’ve tried just about every method and wasn’t super pleased with any of them. I decided it was time to upgrade the dog-hauler. Well, I decided this last year, but it took exactly that long to come to fruition.

When I only had a small team, a regular SUV did the trick. I briefly tried a camper van conversion, but the van itself was old and unreliable. My next choice was the Ford Transit Connect—a little van with a big amount of space inside. I crammed eight crates into it and for a long time, it was ideal. I liked having the dogs inside with me while we made long trips (across the country and back!) and I could carry my Arctis cart on the hitch or my sled on the roof rack.

Then I moved to the north country, where AWD or 4WD is somewhat a necessity in the winter months. The team also grew and suddenly I had gear to tow. My little FTC wasn’t cut out for all this, so I (very quickly) purchased an F-150 and stuck a used wooden dog box on the back of it. In the United States, this is the standard method of dog transport for larger teams. I felt like a “real” musher, finally!

Except, if I’m honest, I didn’t love it. I felt disconnected from the dogs when we made long trips. The dogs themselves were apprehensive. Most of them never learned to jump out of the boxes into my arms—or onto ramps or step stools. I don’t blame them—pick-up trucks are freakin’ HUGE these days and with the box up on the bed rails, it was a heck of a leap. So, I solved the problem (and saved myself some backaches) by hauling around above-ground pool steps everywhere we went. Silly, yea, but it worked.

So I had the FTC for warm weather trips and the truck for mushing season travel. It worked OK, for a time, but then the dog box started to rot. Atlas also refused to be boxed. I had seven usable boxes, which left three dogs riding in the cab with me. At one point, Sagan pulled the wire grating off her box’s window and stuck her head out (thankfully while we were parked in my driveway). A lot of winter races would require the dogs to sleep unattended in parking lots. I didn’t trust my setup and it held me back from making trips to snow races last season.

After considering all my options, I took a hint from Euro mushers and started searching for full-sized, AWD vans. Spoiler alert, there aren’t many on the market. America is full of truck nuts, literally and figuratively. COVID also lead to global supply chain shortages, yada yada yada, and it was apparently cheaper to order a custom model directly from Ford than to buy a used one that didn’t quite fit my requirements. Game plan: build myself the mother of all dog-haulers that had all the things I liked about my FTC with the capabilities of the F-150.

A year later, the dealership who routed my order to Ford told me, “better luck next year” and I said fuck that. A van that nearly fit my specs, for roughly what I was expecting to pay, hit the market in Ohio. I sprung on it. It was finally happening.

Once the Megavan arrived, I yoinked out the second row seats (with some local help) and put down sound-dampening insulation. The ten Ruff Land crates that had been sitting in my barn finally found their permanent home, leaving plenty of space for gear and for a human to snooze. While it sat in my driveway awaiting registration paperwork, I found window covers, a bluetooth temperature gauge, all sorts of magnetic hooks, crate fans, and other little conveniences to make the van our home away from home.

I’m sure there will be more optimizations to come (I’m already thinking about a rear AC unit and a ladder) but for now, the Megavan is ready to roll. We took our first journey down to New Jersey earlier this month and I’m pretty damn pleased with my decision.

[xaelia-au]

crying, screaming, throwing up (absolute favourites)

jude bellingham

opponents - @lqvesoph

it's the euro game between germany and england and you're getting quite defensive over the loss of your country

new years - @jdbellingham

as the bellingham brothers’ best friend, you had learned how to get the upper hand over them, and at new years when you are told to bring a game you have just the trick. but the one thing you didn’t expect from your game is what you got in return.

broken nose - @xhoplesslyromanticx

 In which Jude accidentally shoots Masons sister in the face with a football.

whipped - @sanchosgf

family holdiay with jude and his family

the taste of your lips - @judeswhore

making out demands all of your attention

shots - @judeswhore

shots from jude

jealousy - @judeswhore

jude receiving drinks from girls on holiday

jealousy pt.2 - @judeswhore

jealous jude

i love you - @judeswhore

tracings on jude

watermelon sugar - @judeswhore

jude just can’t get enough of you

prime - @xxblairexxss

jude and your nephew

please don't kill me mister ghostface - @judeswhore

jude is the perfect protector after a night of horror movies

this is what it feels like - @judeswhore

jude just can’t stop kissing you

twenty seconds or twenty years - @judeswhore

hidden away with the love of your life is the perfect way to enter the new year

charles leclerc

uncle darling - @illicitlimerence-writes

babysitter canceled/family date night

goodnight - @illicitlimerence-writes

the reader has a 2yrs old baby boy from a prev relationship and they go on family skii vacation with charles and his fam and just a cute domestic charles like him playing with the child in the snow and pascale admiring how her son is so easily adapting to daddy role"

pt.2

lourdes - @harley-sunday

Charles Leclerc is in some desperate need of good fortune after that terrible race in Sochi and so he embarks on a personal pilgrimage in search of his own lady luck, hoping Lourdes will treat him well. 

pt.2

hymne à l'amour - @spideyanakin

Reader who is the Princess of Monaco and dating Charles.

pt.2 pt.3

to be seen - @lovingperfectionsblog

charles leclercs girlfriend is like, really good at drawing but she keeps it hidden since she’s very critical of her artwork, and she starts doing these like portraits of the drivers in her own private time, like lots of them, since she has love for all of her boyfriends friends - like in a friendly, they treat me so nice way - and the reader like leaves them at places she knows the respective drivers will find them and everyone in the fandom and the paddock is like trying to figure out who does these drawings and they eventually figure out it’s her

little enzo - @mytinycrazymind

You would have never thought that walking into a hairdresser with little Enzo would turn your world upside down.  

those are mine - @norrisleclercf1

Charles being a dad, while his son steals his rings for himself 

details - @welld0nebaku

wanting to start a family 

i will never stop loving you - @rebelwrites

You had never seen Charles lose it like he did tonight, it was a side of him you didn’t know. But you never expect the evening to end like it did. 

tu sei il mondo per mi - @itsasainz

A collection of some of the monumental and mundane moments in your relationship with Charles. Childhood friends to lovers.

angel in disguise - @mytinycrazymind

During the hardest time of his life Charles is lucky enough to find you, to guide him through his worst moments. 

pt.2

before sunrise he’s your child - @rebelwrites

The season was now over and it was finally time to go on that family vacation

lucky charm - @shaarlslec

Charles Leclerc finds his son's paediatrician a little bit too pretty not to ask her on a date right before the Monaco GP.

pt.2

our chaotic little family - @moneymasnn

One where you daughter gets a boyfriend, and Charles is not happy about it at all.

three words, eight letters - @writingstoraes

the three times charles almost said "i love you," and the one time he finally did.

series:

home is perfect starts - @hey-kae

daddy&me +3 - @libraryofloveletters

and now? - @lightsoutsainz

the one where we hope the streets of monaco won't betray them again.

!angstseries

pierre gasly

tout - @lovingperfectionsblog

Pierre needs help writing a love letter

privacy - @lovingperfectionsblog

Pierre discovers y/n’s eating disorder

a moment to remember - @nonstoplover

the time she and her son accidentally meet his favourite f1 driver on the street and the time they meet him again at the race

pt.2

pull me back to you - @seasidepierre

Not going to lie, when Pierre came back home and suggested a night out with your group of friends, you hadn’t expected your creetin of an ex-boyfriend to show up in the bar you were at. Faking a relationship with your best friend seems to be the easiest way to insure that you’re left alone. Right?

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

secret - @mytinycrazymind

He had broken your heart, and left you when you needed him the most. Should you give him a chance to make it up to you?

how do you do it? - @wizkiddx

Looking after Pierre's [fictional]  nephew for an evening or two may just impact your life forever. 

keeping score - @charlewiss-writes

the four times pierre made your nervous, and the one time you hit him back with the same tactics.

george russell

babysitting shenanigans - @russellrustles

when your nieces’ babysitter falls ill, there’s no way that you can say no when you’re asked to look after them for the day.

greek god - @racinggirl

going on a holiday with a friend seemed nice. it was nice, and it ended up giving you more than you could have imagined.

max verstappen

crying at the supermarket - @circiad

during the final race of the season, y/n browses the aisles of a grocery store.