#me why me i can never be accused of not loving the wars of the roses tetralogy enough

[daincrediblegg]

You know… I think I’d enjoy bridgerton more if it engaged in its stakes more than it engaged with its payoff. You know. Like all the jane austen’s novels it’s trying to chase through charm

[britneyshakespeare]

You know what. Despite it being against my doctor's orders I think I should rewatch Jane Howell's Wars of the Roses tetralogy

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part three)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

After his proposal, the reader and Aemond have a heated confrontation in the gardens.

themes/warnings: jealous!possessive!Aemond (no surprise that I have to write this for every part of this story... I mean...), angst, language

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

"Will you choose me?"

That managed to stop you in your tracks. Will you choose him? As if you had not chosen him over and over, at every turn, every proposal - only for him to choose to lie with another woman in the end.

And what is worse, he does not seem to find his actions wrong, only defending them. For the good of the realm, he says. 

But what if he is sincere about marrying you? Will it only be you, for all time, war be damned? Knowing Aemond, it will not be that simple. 

You feel caught in a snare, helpless, for but a second. Weighing your options in your mind. 

Yes. Perhaps. No. Fuck you, and your witch. 

Your mind finally settles, and you turn to face him, your face cold and unreadable. "That has to be the most selfish thing you have ever said to me."

Aemond appears stunned, unmoving, as he watches you stride towards him. 

“Selfish? My desire to be wed to you is a selfish thing?” he asks.

You approach him quickly, breathing heavy as words spill out of your mouth. “I know you, Aemond. Tell me this. Why do you wish to marry me now, after all this time? Why did you not do it fucking seven, eight moons ago? You only want this now because you know that I am serious about getting married to someone else. And what of the unspoken understanding between us that we could never do so because you are a Targaryen, oh great one, and I come from a lowly House of cattle-tending farmers?” You sound venomous, unrestrained, but you do not much care.

Aemond matches you in your ferocity, when he says, “Is that truly what you think? That I would marry you for some foolish reason? That I would do so on a whim? It is true that my family, the council, and perhaps the smallfolk will frown upon our union, but you know what?” He grips your elbow, and you can feel his ragged breathing fanning your face as he drags you closer. “I don’t care anymore. I have always wanted this, and I should get what I want. After everything I have done, all that I have sacrificed for this war, I deserve to marry for love.”

“No, you - ”

“Listen to me, my love,” he leans in, close enough to capture your lips in his if he wishes to. “I’d rather burn everything to the ground, rather than watch you wed another fucking man. I thought you were already well aware of this?” 

His lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and he whispers, “Do not underestimate my love for you. You’re mine, do you hear? Perhaps you will try to be with someone else, with that Ramsay. But know that it will not end well for him.”

You understand that he is not speaking lightly. That he will make do on his threat if need be. Dangerous, intense, cunning. This was the Aemond you fell in love with, so why should you be taken aback  at his words? You crave all of this, all that he truly is.

But you had also thought that all of this, all of him, was only yours. 

“No,” you breathe.

“What?”

“My answer is no,” you repeat. “I cannot marry you. Not like this.”

“Because of him?” Aemond accuses. 

“Not exactly,” you meet his eye and find a storm of emotion resting there. “You know that I would marry you in a heartbeat.” You remember when he said the same, but it does not sit right with you that he could only have said that out of desperation. Just as he is asking for your hand now, in the heat of the moment. 

“Then we shall have it done. On the morrow, if that is what you wish, my love - ”

“But we cannot marry when I do not trust you. When I cannot be certain that you will not go scurrying back to bed with Alys each time you require her visions or her spells.”

Aemond implores, “But it should all end soon. The war… we shall be sure to prevail against our enemies. And then I will have no further use for her. We can have her banished or mutilated for all I care.” 

Typical of Aemond to be so thick-headed, and to stick to his ambition.  So will he lie with Alys a few more times, breaking your heart, after he has just professed to love and marry you? “I cannot have that.”

“Do you not understand - ”

“I understand perfectly,” you almost hiss at him in your exasperation. “If you wish to wed me, then you cannot have anyone else. By the gods, you should not even remotely desire to be with anyone else, for any reason. Whether it be for the fucking realm, I do not care.”

You pry yourself away from his hold, every step walking back from him giving you room to just breathe. “The very thought of you with her, the truth of it happening, sickens me to my core.” 

Laughing menacingly, you add, “Just as the thought of myself with Ramsay angers you so. Tell me, my love - what would you do if I were to ride him, as Alys does you?”

Aemond glares daggers at you, his jaw clenching so hard in his rage.

He seethes, “You would never get the chance. I will bury him long before then.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” you raise your hands in surrender. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“You do not get to simply leave - ” He starts to say, but he is interrupted by someone else rounding the corner.

“Brother,” Aegon greets, an ornate cup of wine held loosely in one hand. Several members of his Kingsguard shadow him, a few paces away.  “How come you get to escape our council meetings out here, whilst I waste away with those droll sycophants?”

“Aegon,” Aemond greets, his voice giving away irritation at his brother’s intrusion. “I had no standing affairs today, and I am occupied with something else.”

“Someone else, you mean to say,” Aegon raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Nice to see you again, my lady.”

“Your Grace,” you curtsy. “I shall take my leave, so that you might speak to Aemond in private.”

Aegon responds lightly. “Stay, if you please. I do have something to ask you as well. And what is with the ‘Your Grace’? It is just Aegon to you, as always.”

“Of course, Your G-” you catch yourself, smiling now. “I mean, Aegon.” Aemond’s siblings have been more than civil towards you, and if everything else were simpler, then you might even call them your friends. 

Now and then, Aegon would make a comment about your status in poor taste, though he means well. One of them being, “What a shame you cannot be made my good-sister through Aemond. The family would surely wed the pair of you, if only you had been a Lady Baratheon, or gods, even a Lannister, though I find the lot of them unbearable. What a shame.”

“So,” Aegon excitedly clasps his hands together, preparing to share some piece of news. “I’ll be holding a small gathering on the morrow. A supper of sorts. Only a few chosen people. Our inner circle, which includes you, my lady.” He wags his finger at you, playfully.

“A feast? Won’t it be improper, Aegon?” Aemond asks, with a tired sigh, already used to his brother’s proclivities. 

“Not a feast, dear brother. A small, subdued supper.” Aegon looks to you for support, and you shrug in agreement. He takes a step closer, whispering to you in secret, “It is a feast, actually.” You have to bite back a laugh at his absurdity. It’s somewhat hard to believe that Aegon is the face of the Greens - their cause, their reason to wage this brutal war. Was he not just a young boy who did not choose any of this? A neglected son who was forced to abandon his dream of escape? A crown of thorns thrust upon him in spite of his resistance?

“Aegon - ” Aemonds warns, wary of his brother’s proximity to you. What in the seven hells could he be saying?

“Aemond,” Aegon sings in response, unfazed. “I’ve said my piece. My lady, I shall have my guards escort you when it’s time.” 

“Alright,” you say, aware of Aemond’s watchful stare on you. In a split decision, or mayhaps a calculated move, you find yourself requesting, “do you mind terribly if I take Lord Ramsay Beesbury as my companion?”

“Oh, him?” Aegon looks to his brother, weighing his reaction, and immediately growing amused at the fury that he sees. “Well, you may take whomever you please, my lady.”

“She may not,” Aemond quickly counters. 

Aegon merely grins, “It’s my party, brother.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“I am your King,” Aegon states. “My word is final.”

"You could be the Smith himself, and I still would not care. She will not be taking him." Aemond says firmly. Only he can talk back to Aegon in such a way, and he surely takes advantage of this when he can.

They lock eyes, until Aegon bursts in a fit of unbridled laughter, his wine sloshing out of his cup.

"Gods be fucking good," Aegon wheezes. "You can hardly control yourself, dear brother." Winking at you, he says, "I suppose there is a damn good reason why they call us Greens. Aemond here is practically greener than Vhagar's slimy old scales with envy."

"Seven hells." Aemond curses in exasperation. Still, after all that, he throws you a look of warning.

You only smile sweetly in return, your mind already made up.

Satisfied with the outcome of this exchange, you nod to both of them, "I shall take my leave, Aegon. Aemond. But we shall see you on the morrow. Thank you for the invitation."

Aemond bristles at your emphasis on we.

Yet he cannot help but watch in adoration as you walk away, your skirts billowing lightly in the wind. His woman.

That Ramsay will not be able to anticipate what's coming for him.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading all of your comments from the previous parts!! Glad we are all on the same page - Aemond should suffer 🤷🏻‍♀️ (or at least, grovel and prove himself, for the next few chapters.)

taglist: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @aemondswifeisme @bash1018 @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstoms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @youtoldalie @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @whitejuliana1204 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul

[muxshwriting]

we always do...

Theseus Scamander x reader

summary: theseus and his wife may have very conflicting views on war, but they'll never go to bed angry and never leave the other in danger || warnings: fighting, violence || word count: 1567 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader: Can you please write a Thesues Scamander x reader fic from your imagination (my minds not working as of now)

You often disagreed with your husbands job. Not in theory, because being an auror is an honourable and noble career. But in practise, the ministry was throwing him recklessly into a war and not to capture dark wizards. You knew that you couldn't stop Theseus from fighting, the reckless and caring man he is. But you wanted him to stay alive, even if it meant arguing with him about safety and trying to get him to take care of himself before running into danger to help others.

"Why do you have to go and fight?"

"I'm the head of aurors." Theseus said incredulously.

"You don't deserve to fight and die in this war just because you're an auror. You didn't sign up to be a soldier."

He shrugged. "Sometimes that's what the world needs."

You nod, seemingly finished with the disagreement before continuing to speak. "Where's you brother?"

"What?"

"He's sent us a letter," You hold up said letter for Theseus to see. "He's put together a haphazard alliance to try and singlehandedly take down Grindelwald. An alliance he implies you already knew about. Are you and Newt insane, Theseus? Have you been checked?"

Theseus chuckled slightly at your words. "Darling, Newt only told me about his team today. The letter arrived later than expected. I'm going to try and stop him from getting himself killed."

"Then I'm going to stop you from being killed." You declare.

"I'm not going to be killed, Y/N."

"You're throwing yourself into a suicide mission and I can't let you do it alone. Look-"

Theseus pulled you into his arms. "I know. I know." He comforts. "We'll get through this together, right?"

You give him a watery smile. "We always do."

"We always do." He agrees, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and then your lips.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, your hands fidgeting in your lap as you start to realise what the future may hold for you and your husband. Slowly, you're realising the harrowing weight of your new quest and the increasing likelihood of an outcome that involves death.

"Have you got something on your mind?" Theseus asks softly.

"Besides the obvious, no." You glance out of the window, unable to look him in the eyes. "I love you Theseus."

He replies in earnest. "I love you too."

★--~-~--★

The crowd shouts as Newt leads you all through the German Ministry of Magic. Theseus' hand has a firm grip on yours, keeping you close to him and trying to keep you safe. You stay by his side as Newt tries to pass on his message to Vogel. The Supreme Mugwump steps up to make his final speech, beginning normal and then starting to take a more sinister turn.

Newcomers begin to slink into the room, a few faces recognisable from Paris. They're Grindelwald's followers, meaning that this tea party in Berlin won't end as calmly as you hoped it would. The three of you follow the newcomers as they weave through the crowd, being watched as you do this and almost taunted by them.

"... insufficient evidence exists to prosecute Gellert Grindelwald for the crimes against the muggle community of which he was accused." The Supreme Mugwump pardons Grindelwald of all his crimes as Theseus approaches his followers, attempting to place them under arrest.

One sneaks up behind you and a wand presses against your temple. Your body freezes in place as you try to see who has you under threat. The shift of your head had the wizard behind you wrapping his arm around your neck to hold you in place.

"Theseus!" Before he could reply, Theseus is hit with a spell he never saw coming and drops to the ground. The crowd began to thin as people didn't want to be involved and swiftly left the room. You begin to struggle against his grip, trying to fight back but an utterance is heard and the world goes black.

When the world comes back into view, the first thing you realise is that you're upside down. Secondly, your hands and ankles are bounded together and chained to the ceiling of the dank cell you find yourself in. Thirdly, you're alone. Theseus is nowhere to be seen but you can hear the chinking of chains to your right.

"Theseus?"

The clinking stopped. "Hello? Y/n, is that you?"

"Theseus!" At least you weren't in this prison alone. "Are you alright?"

"I think so?" The answer came out as a question. "I'm upside down for some reason."

You can't hold back your laugh, imagining your husband strung up by his ankles and swinging in his cell. "Me too. I think the blood is getting to my head."

Theseus sighed. "Yeah. Are you alright though? You aren't hurt?"

"I'm alright." You reply. "Can't wait to get out of here, but alright."

The two of you hang together for many hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as the blood rush become too much at times. You're awoken to someone calling Theseus' name and getting closer.

"Rescuing us are you?" Theseus tries to joke.

"That's the general idea!" Newt replies, edging closer. You see he's being followed by a large consortium of crabs, all copying the bizarre way he is walking.

"Is this a strategic move or do you just like to walk like that sometimes Newt?" You ask him.

Newts shrugs slightly. "It's called limbic mimicry, supposed to discourage violent engagement."

"Supposed to?" Theseus asks.

"Theoretically. I've only attempted it once before with inconclusive results." He continues to ramble about his experiment as he now faces Theseus.

A giant tail sprouts from the central darkness to assess the space next to Newt. The three of you freeze in place, Newt dodging the tail. A few levels down, a firefly lamp goes out and the prisoner screams. The tail retracts and a stinger takes it's place, aiming directly for the screaming prisoner and dragging him down into the depths.

In the chaos of the smaller crabs, Newt cut Theseus down and moved on to sever your bonds as well. You dropped to the floor, angling your body so you'd land on your side and shoulder instead of your head.

"Thanks Newt." You sarcastically say, pulling yourself to your feet and moving towards Theseus. Newt was once again focused on the crabs, who were interested in you all again.

"And the plan is?" Theseus asks.

Instead of answering, Newt cupped his hands to his face and blew, letting a whistle-like noise echo throughout the prison.

"Uh Newt? That's not a plan."

"We're gonna need some help." He suddenly struck up his pose to 'discourage violent engagement' and the crabs copied him without hesitation. After the exchange of some heavy looks, you and Theseus copied him and began to the slow ascent to the exit.

Just as you neared the top, Theseus stepped on one of the crabs, crushing it. Before any of you could say a word, the lamp began to flicker in and out and the distinct rumbling of the giant creature began. The tail popped up from the darkness and the trio ran. As you weaved through narrow stone corridors, the creature's tail crashed through walls just behind, hunting for it's prey. It began to shoot poison from it's stinger that was so strong it melted stone.

You and Theseus were separated as you tried to avoid the flying poison and the onslaught of regular crabs which had reappeared. The number of appendages that the creature had seemed to only grow as they appeared in every direction, hunting for you.

As a limb reached toward you, you jump over a different limb and continue to run. Spotting Theseus in the corner of your eye, you make a beeline towards him and almost crash into him as you slowed, Newt joining you. You all took off down yet another hallway as the rocks collapsed behind you, separating the creature from the group. Or so you thought.

Before you had a second to breathe, the creature had wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing you and pulling you backwards. Theseus called out your name, grasping your hands in his and trying to keep you close. Newt tries to help but Theseus' grip falters for a moment and you slide closer to the edge.

Out of nowhere, Pickett appears with Newt's wand and you all fall into the pit before apparatting out of that godforsaken place.

Your back slams onto forest floor, limb still wrapped around your waist. The feel of it repulses you as you try to squirm your way out and push it off of you. Theseus pulls it off as it continues to move and wriggles away through the leaves.

Now on your feet, your hands are batting off and dirt and leaves stuck to you, still convinced you were being crushed by the creature. Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears and your hands have a slight shake to them. Theseus gently approaches, grasping your hands in his and staring into your soul.

"You're alright. It's over. We're safe."

"We got through it." You mutter, stumbling into his arms.

Theseus melted in your embrace, dropping his head onto your shoulder. "We always do."

"We always do..." You whispered back like a mantra, a prayer that you both would and a promise that you did.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Home Again

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Most gods would be happy that they were back in the paradise realm after previously being banished and stripped of their divinity, but Fallen God!Ghost aches for you.

His nights are spent dreaming about you, the mortal who showed him what love was. He dreamt of sleeping beside you, kissing you, even cooking with you. He dreamt of your beautiful hair, your breathtaking eyes, your jaw-dropping smile. His dreams were filled with memories of your laughter, your smooth and lyrical voice.

Paradise realm is a paradise, sure, but nothing could compare to you. Your beauty outshines the paradise realm's, your presence calms Ghost in a way the paradise realm can never. The air was always lighter when he was around you, the colors of the world always brighter. You are his light, his world, and everything is dull without you.

He spends week after week searching for how to get back to the mortal realm and back to you. His power is potent, he can just teleport himself down to the mortal realm to see you but that doesn't seem like a satisfying answer to him.

Ghost would eventually have to leave you and go back to the paradise realm, forced to be able to only visit you from time to time. He didn't want that, he can't bear the thought of leaving you. Of sleeping in his own bed, alone.

He also couldn't make you a concubine of his, bring you to the paradise realm. It didn't feel right for him to ask you to leave everything you knew behind just so you could spend hours alone in his temple while he worked. You deserve better than that.

So what else was there to do?

It takes Ghost a few days to realize what he must do. What he has to do in order to see you again.

He is standing in God!Price's temple, all of the deities summoned there for the monthly update of what the pantheon has been doing since they last convened. He can barely hear what the others are saying, it being meaningless as his mind finally reaches an answer to his burning question.

"I'm stripping myself of my godhood and powers, permanently," Ghost says, interrupting the conversation.

The entire temple is silenced at once, everyone turning their heads to stare at Ghost in disbelief.

A god deliberately turning himself mortal? That was unheard of. It was absurd to even those deities who loved the mortals so much.

Price frowns, clearly thinking Ghost has gone mad. "Now, Ghost, let's think about this," he says, his words slow and carefully curated. "You can't just abandon your godly duties, you're the God of Warfare. If there's one thing that the mortals do the most, it's engaging in war."

Ghost scoffs. "My duties can easily be done by our Goddess of War," he replies, gesturing with his hand towards said goddess. "I no longer want to be a god."

His words ignite a flurry of murmurs between the other deities, all of them shocked beyond disbelief. They don't understand why he wouldn't want to be a god, especially after centuries of hearing him look down on mortals.

"Is this because of the mortal you met during your banishment, {Name}?" Price asks, peeved now. "I hadn't thrown you down to them for you to fall in love with them, Ghost."

"No, you did it so I could learn the importance of mortals and I have," Ghost cuts in, his power flaring up as his anger spikes. This isn't up for debate. "I'm doing this no matter what any of you say, I was doing a courteous thing by giving you all a heads-up."

Price shifts in the seat of his throne, itching to get up and slap some sense into Ghost. "Enough of this, Ghost. You don't even know if they will take you if you're not a god. Perhaps that was the only reason they fell in love with you in the first place."

Ghost snarls in rage at the accusation and assassination of your character. "Even if that's the case, which I doubt it is, it is my choice. I'd rather spend the rest of my mortal life heartbroken if they turn me away than spend eternity aching for them," he says defiantly.

Immense power fills the temple, all of it Ghost's as he pools it all in his veins. Stripping himself of his godhood and powers is excruciating, the pain almost enough to stop him, but he keeps pressing on with the action.

It was worth it, for you.

"Someone stop him!" Price bellows at the other deities, but it's too late.

Just as God!Soap reaches for Ghost to try and stop him, Ghost's godhood and powers are stripped from him, his last act of being a god is to send his mortal form where it needs to be: at your doorstep.

His second fall seems euphoric, a laugh bubbling up in his chest as he falls through the clouds and lands on your front porch just like he had done months ago.

He looks to the side just as you open your front door, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of you. The weight on his chest is lifted, everything falling into place once more.

"Ghost?" You ask, surprised. You had thought you would never see him again. "Did... Did you get your godhood taken away again?"

Ghost stands with your help, his skin thrumming at the sensation of your hands on him again. "I took it away myself," he murmurs, breathless as he stares in your beautiful eyes.

Your face twists into confusion, which makes sense since he had been itching to be a god again the first time he fell. "Why?"

"For you, love. I couldn't bear to live eternity without you," Ghost says, secretly nervous that you won't take him now that he's not a god. "I love you, {Name}."

"I love you too," you reply, making him relax. You step closer, happy that this isn't a dream. "I don't care that you're not a god anymore, I only ever wanted you."

"You will always have me, for as long as you will have me."

Ghost steps closer as well, reaching up to gently cradle your face between his hands. He can't wait for you to lean in as well, though you do so as he gently presses his lips against yours.

The kiss can only be described as heavenly, all of the noises of city life fading away until there was only the sound of you two kissing. It's so gentle and slow, Ghost savoring what it's like to kiss you. He pours every ounce of love into the kiss, needing you to be filled with his love.

It feels like you are kissing for hours before you both pull away for air. Your soft pants fill the air between you two, you smiling at him.

"Come on," you say, gently grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together. "Let's go inside and have dinner together."

Ghost nods and follows you inside the house that truly feels like home now. He lets you lead him into the kitchen, not even complaining about having to cook with you.

He had been a fallen god when he had first met you but now, he was neither fallen nor a god. He was just Ghost. A man you loved.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[hisonlykiwi]

"With that kind of power at your disposal, the possibilities are endless." part two

synopsis: azriel, who's never bothered to acknowledge your existence seeks you out for help.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none

a/n: hey guys, here's part two! let me know what you think, i would love your feedback

taglist <3: @blackgirlmagicforever, @tele86, @lilah-asteria, @kylaisra, @deeshag

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

part one

Previously: “I need your help.” I pause and look back at him, a pleading look on his face. “Why? You’ve never spoken to me, let alone acknowledged my existence. Then you barge in here, provoking me and suddenly you want my help? I have to laugh.” I pull my wrist away, but he grips tighter, “Please.” He says, and I tug my wrist away again, but he doesn’t budge.

 “Let. Me. Go.” I say, unable to withhold my anger. I blink and suddenly, I’m standing in the middle of the woods with Azriel still holding my wrist. He fucking winnowed us to the middle of nowhere. “Azriel, what the fuck are you doing?!” I give him a hard shove, but he doesn’t budge, of course, he doesn’t, he’s a 6’5 man made of pure muscle, ugh! He holds me close to his chest, “I have strong suspicions the inner circle is in grave danger and your abilities would be able to prove if I’m correct.” He quicky says, I stop moving, processing what he just said. He notices, slowly lets me go and moves away a bit but stays close. I peer up at him, confusion and concern laced in my features. “What do you mean, exactly?”

I furrow my eyebrows, still processing. Danger? How could they possibly be in danger? Is that why he brought us out to the middle of the woods, so no one would hear him. I hear Azriel take in a deep breath, “I think Elain is working with Hybern.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

part two

Azriel's jaw clenched as he spoke the words, a mixture of anger and determination etched across his face. I raise my eyebrows at his words, “Does she now? And may I ask what brings you to that conclusion?” 

The air around him crackled with tension and his eyes hardened. “She's been acting strange, different. Dropping hints and whispering in the shadows. There have been strange occurrences in the city as well, odd movements, disappearances, things that only someone with inside knowledge would know....” 

I furrow my brows and cross my arms over my chest. “Which could mean nothing... Look, Azriel, she has been through a lot. Elain was kidnapped from her bed and thrown into the Cauldron where she was turned into something she feared, then the love of her life rejected her, and then she was captured by the Cauldron, by Hybern. And if my memory serves me correctly, you and Feyre were the ones who helped rescue her. Are you sure you’re not reading too much into this?” I finish, peering up to look at him, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. 

Azriel takes in another deep breath, his eyes ever leaving mine. “There are too many coincidences, and I can't ignore the signs anymore. I've been observing her behavior lately. She seems... different, distant, ever since I helped rescue her from Hybern’s war camp.” He pauses, his gaze darkening. “And, in my line of work... I trust my instincts. They're rarely wrong.” Azriel responds and I tear my gaze from him, this conversation becoming all too consuming.

 I run my hands over my face. None of this makes sense, Elain? Sweet ol’ Elain… She isn’t capable of doing something like this. In my short time of knowing her, she doesn’t seem to have the abilities nor experience to fight for herself, much less work with someone as wicked as Hybern. But I can’t ignore what Azriel is telling me. There’s a reason he has sought me out, what would be the point of making such a heavy accusation if there wasn’t some deeper truth behind it? I meet his eyes once again, “So why seek me out? And not Rhysand? I’m not sure what you want me to do.” 

Azriel lets out a frustrated breath, “We need someone who can enter minds, who can see if my suspicions are true. If Elain is indeed working with Hybern, we need to know the extent of her plans, and your power can give us that insight. I’m aware Rhysand has the ability to enter minds as well, but since he is mated with Feyre. I’m afraid she’ll be able to peer inside his thoughts, which could be catastrophic if she finds out what her sister is capable of.”  His voice is firm yet filled with a hint of fear. I hate to admit it, but he makes a great point and what if he’s right? If Elain is helping Hybern, this is not going to end well. She’s been inside Velaris and knows the secrets and plans of the inner circle. Azriel interrupts my thoughts "I've thought about this a thousand times, and the conclusion I keep coming back to is that you're the only one who can get to her, get her to reveal the truth." 

I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for an answer, this is Rhysand’s best friend, his brother, his family, I could trust him, I want to trust him. “If you’ve thought about this a thousand times, I’m going to go ahead and assume you have a plan?” I ask him. Azriel's gaze remains focused and determined. "Here's what we'll do," he says, his voice quiet.  “The Winter Court is hosting a ball and they’ve invited all of the courts to attend, which is in 3 weeks’ time.  The plan is simple. I’ll need to get close to Elain, to earn her trust. While I distract her, this will allow you to enter her mind without suspicion." He explains. “You'll remain hidden and silent, gathering any information you can find. The goal is not to alert her of your presence or intentions, otherwise she might catch on. We don't want her knowing we're onto her just yet." He finishes. Well, he wasn’t kidding when he said he’s thought this over a thousand times, the plan seems solid and doable. “Okay, I’ll help you... under one condition.” I give him a small smile.

Azriel's eyes flicker with curiosity at my proposition and he nods. "Alright, what's your condition?" I pause, “You can, under no circumstance, let anyone know about my powers. You said it yourself; I could change the course of history itself if anyone were to find out of what I’m capable of. Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Azriel’s looks at me, his golden eyes glinting with intensity. “I promise,” he said, his voice firm and resolute. “Your secret is safe with me.” He held out his pinky, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

I look at his pinky being held out in front me, amusement being shown in my features., I let out a small chuckle and hooked my pinky with his, “Looks like you have yourself a partner. But really? A pinky promise?” I laugh softly. Azriel's lips curved into a small smile, "Hey, a pinky promise is sacred," he replies, his tone teasingly defensive. "Besides, it's a time-honored tradition among the fae and... let's be honest, it's more fun than a regular promise." I burst out into a fit of giggles and nod along. “A pinky promise it is.” Which causes his small smile to turn into a full blown out grin.

I felt a pang in my chest, similar to one I felt earlier as I looked at his, oh so beautiful smile. “Since we're going to be partners and all, I have a proposition you cannot refuse” I say letting go of his pinky so I can dig in my bag and fetch the report I was working on earlier. “You have to help me with this, Rhysand has me working on it. Which I was doing before I was rudely interrupted.” I jokingly say, handing him the report.

Azriel takes the report and quirks an eyebrow. He glances down at the report, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. "You were rudely interrupted, were you?" He teases, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I suppose, as your partner, it's only right that I help with your little report." He says. I give him a big grin, “Why thank you partner, you’re too kind.” I take the report from his hands and put it back in my bag, “Now will you please winnow us back home, the woods creep me out.”

Azriel gives a dramatic sigh and rolls his eyes in playful annoyance. "I guess I can do that," he says with a wry smile, holding out a hand. "But only because you asked so kindly." He stepped forward and I put my hand in his outstretched palm. And just like last time, in the blink of an eye, we’re standing in front of the town house. “Thank you, partner.” I say, peering up at him. I felt Azriel give my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, a small hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Anytime, partner.” He responded. 

Where are you? Rhysand’s voice rang in my head. I’m out front of the town house, am I needed? I mentally replied back to him. Yes. There’s been another attack, come to my office as soon as you can. Rhysand said. On my way. 

 “Everything okay?” Azriel asks and I let out a frustrated sigh, “No. Rhysand, just notified me there’s been another attack. I have to go meet with him. I’ll catch you later, yeah?” I watched as Azriel's expression fell, "Another attack?" He repeats, a mix of anger and frustration seeping into his tone. "Damn it." He grits his teeth. "Where was the attack this time?" He demands, his eyes flickering. “He didn’t give me any specifics. I’ll let you know what he tells me.” Azriel gives me an understanding small nod, "I'll keep an ear out for any more news. If you need anything, just let it know." He says, pointing to my shoulder. A moment later, he is wrapped in shadows and vanishes. I looked over at my shoulder that he pointed at, and to my surprise, there was a small shadow. Just like the one that was around my ankle earlier. “Oh, hi there.” I whisper to the black smoke hovering on my shoulder. It slowly comes near my cheek, a cool, airy feeling against it. It almost felt like it was caressing my cheek.  I smile at the sensation, “Well, aren’t you cute?” I try to touch it and the small shadow wraps around my hand. I giggle softly, the feeling a little ticklish. 

I admire the small, playful shadow before my mind slips back to the short conversation I had with Rhysand moments ago. I let out a sigh and made my way towards Rhysand’s office, the shadow following close behind me.

 It hasn’t been a full week since the last attack and now there’s been another. The attacks are happening more consistently then how they were a couple weeks ago. How am I supposed to figure out the culprit’s motive? Their attacks are always unpredictable, there’s no pattern, no repeated habits or behavior. It’s so strange. 

I bring my hand up to knock on the door of Rhysand’s office, but it opens before I even have a chance to actually knock. Hpmh, of course it would, it’s a magic house, I always forget. I make my way inside, “Alright, I’m here, what happe-” I freeze at the sight in front of me. “Elain?”

[longing-for-rain]

https://www.tumblr.com/atla-confessions/759438562978562048/zutara-and-azutara-both-agree-katara-would-have?source=share

Do a post on this please I don't have the energy

I see this sentiment a lot lately, and yes, it is frustrating. But I’m going to talk about it because it perfectly illustrates the way (kataang) fans take power away from Katara’s narrative and reduce her complexity as a result.

For those too tired to look at the OP (understandable) it’s an anon saying that both Zutara and Kazula would be problematic and harmful to Katara because the Fire Nation would never accept her, and that she and her family would always be in danger yada yada blah blah.

And honestly? I agree with that. It would be dangerous for Katara. But if you think that would stop Katara, you fundamentally don’t understand her character.

Do you really think Katara is some poor little damsel who needs to be protected at all costs and sent away to live a quiet life in the countryside? No; that’s never been Katara. Katara wants to fight and she has never backed down from a challenge. It’s who she is.

Katara is the girl who left her home to travel across a war-torn world to chase even a chance that she could play a part in ending the war. She’s constantly putting herself in dangerous situations because she follows her heart, she does what’s right even if it’s a risk to her safety. The Katara we know from ATLA is not some demure, unassuming girl who would be happy to sit back and become known for her healing above all else while her friends fought in her place. Katara would have hated to see her future as it was written. She is loud. She is proud. She is a fighter.

Katara not only accepts a challenge; she’s eager for it. She’s strong, she knows it, and she isn’t afraid to use her power for good.

I know someone is going to jump in the comments and accuse me of “shaming” Katara for her “choices” (nevermind the fact that she’s a fictional character so every choice she makes isn’t her own; it’s a narrative chosen for her by the male writers) but I’m not even saying that being a healer is inherently weak or bad. I’m saying it’s not Katara.

It’s a shame that so many people are willing to overlook the butchering of her story just because they’re so protective over canon and are completely unwilling to engage with it critically.

This sentiment reflects the issues many fans have with canon kataang, because it’s a very common misogynistic trope in media. A female character can be strong, but it’s only temporary. We can see her fight and triumph, but at the end she’s expected to give that up for marriage and motherhood after the war. Her identity is reduced to her relation to a man. She isn’t expected to retain her strength; she is expected to accept a quiet recognition while the world sings the man’s praises.

That was the fate of Katara in canon. And it is a disservice to her character. Katara would have wanted to continue to fight, because the fight wasn’t over. Anon’s recognition that Fire Nation nobility would have an issue with her holding power shows they understand that too. So why do you think Katara would be fine with sitting back and letting that happen? Why do you think she’d let that scare her away? Not my Katara.

Especially when love enters the picture. Let’s say Katara did canonically love Zuko, or Azula, or anyone outside of her nation for that matter. Yes, it would be more difficult for her. But do you really think Katara would back down for that reason?

In fact, do you realize how insulting it is to imply that she should to anyone in an interracial relationship? Or a same sex relationship? Yes, societal pressure and bigotry make them more difficult. But it doesn’t make them wrong. And the idea that it’s selfish or wrong because it’s endangering the family is insulting.

Especially in the case of Kazula. The Fire Nation is canonically homophobic. There would be danger and backlash for any same sex relationship, especially involving a member of the royal family like Azula. So…what then. Are gay people supposed to stop existing? Is Azula supposed to just never date or marry because it would be too dangerous?

Yeah, no. 0/10, trash take, do better.

(This part is mostly a joke but I also want to point it out)

The anon also implies that Katara’s canon relationship (with the Avatar) wouldn’t also carry the same risks. Which it would, probably even more so. Katara could be used as leverage against Aang by people trying to get to him. I mean, it already happened in canon.

And quite frankly, Aang was pretty useless at protecting Katara in that situation. Look at his face. Literal baby goo-goo-ga-ga shit. She’s lucky Fong wasn’t willing to actually kill her and that she was safely underground when Aang had his Spirit Tantrum because she would have been dead meat. So if your argument is that poor helpless little Katara would be sooooo much safer with Aang, I’m really not convinced.

If you’re going to decide who to ship Katara with based on who can protect her from danger the best, well…

I’m just saying 🤷🏻‍♀️🍵

[madlori]

Ship dysphoria

Ok so a bit of time has gone by, and the 9-1-1 fandom is settling into a bit of an...existential crisis?

Because 90% of this fandom is built on Buddie. Buddie has always been the strongest driving force. We love our other blorbos, but it's Buddie that usually drives us feral.

Except...Buck/Tommy. OMG. It is WORKING for a lot of fans. (and JFC we cannot settle on a ship name. Tevan? Kinley? I'm gonna stick with Buck/Tommy)

A LOT of fans are having a "I'm a devoted Buddie shipper, why do I like this so much??" moment and it can almost feel like a betrayal, or that you're deserting the ship (the ship that, remember, Oliver told us to stay aboard).

And I think I can probably speak for everybody when I say that the last thing we want or need is a ship war in this fandom, something we haven't ever really had but which has torn other fandoms apart.

So I'm gonna put on my veteran-of-many-fandoms hat for a second and tell you a thing:

It's okay to ship Buck and Tommy. It's ok to do that and still ship Buddie. It's also okay to leave Buddie behind if it's not working for you anymore. It's okay to just tolerate Buck and Tommy and not really care about it, and stay focused on Buddie. You are allowed to ship however it works for you, and you are not limited to one and only one ship. If you decide you don't think Buddie will happen and you're going to cut your losses, that's okay, too. It is not a reflection on your character or something. You don't swear an oath of fealty to a ship.

We don't know how long Tommy will stick around, but Buck will still be bisexual. He may date another man. He may date a woman again. You can ship those things too.

But why is this ship hitting me so hard? I never thought I'd like Buck with another man! I'm so confused!

I get that. There are some reasons why that might be.

There is something very appealing about a ship that's canon. Some of you might never have had a canon queer ship, but the pull is strong. There's no guessing, no interpreting, no subtext-examining. It's there, it's real, you don't have to wonder if you're just overinterpreting things. Yes. Buck and Tommy kissed and are going on a date. Even if that's all it ever is, you'll never be accused of "seeing things that aren't there." Don't discount that.

Tommy, even in just 1.5 episodes, is a LOT more integrated into the firefam than any of Buck's previous girlfriends. Tim talked about not wanting him to be "siloed off" away from the main cast and that was exactly the problem with his prior girlfriends. Tommy is friends with Eddie. He knows Christopher and has hung out with him. He spent most of that loft conversation reassuring Buck that his place in Eddie's life was secure. He feels more like part of the gang than any other ones. That makes it easier to see him in Buck's life.

The mere fact of Buck's queer awakening is so monumental for so many of us that the character who helped him get there is going to naturally earn our affection immediately, and it's going to make you want that relationship to succeed, even if it's ulitmately not endgame for Buck. You want to see Buck have a good experience the first time out with a man. Of course you do.

And we just want to see Buck make out with a hot beefy firefighter. That is so valid of us.

Anyway. There is no need for a crisis. You can love Buddie with your whole heart and still be excited about this pairing, and want to see how it goes, and read fic about it. I may be writing a lil something myself.

You're good, fam.

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter 3

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten(finale!)|

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma

Word count: 1.5k

Unedited

He was avoiding you. You could tell. He made it very obvious. Each morning you woke up, he was going to sleep. And every night you went to sleep, he was just waking up, but he didn't dare leave the room, for fear that he would run into you.

Joon was still being Joon, and the Situation with Jimin made it worse. You weren't sure if he knew what happened between you and Jimin, but you didn't ask to find out either. However, he was eating more and more. At least he can trust you enough to eat your cooking. That's progress, right?

Before you knew it, the boys had been with you for two weeks. Some of them had become pretty comfortable. Taking the advice Taehyung gave you, you bought some cat scratchers for Yoongi. All of the wolf hybrids in the pack would go in the backyard to let all their energy out, except Joon. He just watched over them, scolding them whenever they would chase the chickens.

Jungkook was your new best friend. He stuck by your side like glue, your big buff teddy bear. Yoongi was quiet, reserved. He spoke to you often, but he tried not to talk for longer than a couple minutes. Jin and Taehyung were the best of help. He always cook meals, and when it's time to farm, he never lets you do anything yourself. Hoseok was still timid and flighty, but he was loyal. This group of dangerous hybrids was slowing becoming a loving family... very slowly.

"Seriously Tae, get your own!" Jungkook and Taehyung were fighting over the new snacks you had gotten them. One thing you learned about about kook was that he was very territorial over his belongings. That's why you had a specific drawer of snacks with his name on it.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stop Taehyung.

"Just one bite, please!" They were playing tug of war with the bag of chips. Jungkook was winning. "You have a whole box of them! I can't have just one?"

"No! You can't", he protested. While trying to tear the chips from Tae's grasp, the bag rips, chips flying in the air and landing all over the kitchen.

"Look at what you did!" Tae accused, bending down to pick everything up. A broom would've been more efficient but he wasn't sure where you kept it. "Hurry up and help me clean before Y/n sees it!"

Swiftly, Jungkook helps pick up the salty potato chips. Before exiting the kitchen, they look around one more time to make sure there wasn't even a single crumb on the floor.

And with that, the argument over the chips was over, never brought up again...

You noticed that Jimin loved hanging out in your greenhouse, admiring all of your colorful flowers. You wanted to give him some space, but while watching him walk around the greenhouse you had the urge to join him.

"Those are vincas, by the way", you whispered loud enough for him to hear you, fiddling with your fingers.

He appeared to be startled by your presence- rightfully so. His mouth hung open, looking as if he wanted to say something. You stoped him before he could get the chance.

"Before you say anything. Let me just apologize first-"

He shook his head. "Don't. There's no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong... I should be the one apologizing. I know that hybrids and humans aren't allowed to interact i-in that way- very selfish of me."

"What are you talking about?" You may have done a lot of research on hybrids, but you never did any on their relationship with people. Maybe you should've...

"In the lab they always told us..", Jimins mind went back to the days he wished to never remember.

The lab was cold, ice cold. Stuffed in cages, the wolves shivered, huddled together for warmth. One by one, the men in lab coats sedated the wolves, fearing being bit by them.

"This one is feisty!" The researcher laughed, holding the hybrid by the spikey collar as the medicine kicked in. The others in the cage kicked and pulled on the metal bars.

"Please! He's tired, he can't take anymore!" The pack leader begged. "Take me! Take me instead, I'll do anything."

The researcher came up to the cage with a cane, banging it on the bars. "Listen here, mutt", he hissed. "Each of us have a part to play. Your is to be obedient to your superiors, understood?"

The other men laughed and applauded him for putting Joon in his place. "That's right! Show him what happens when mutts defy humans..."

Everyone in the lab agreed, shouting as if the lab had become the coliseum. A fox hybrid ran up to the bars, getting down on his knees, head pointed to the floor.

"Please excuse him, sir. We know are place is and will always be behind these bars. Please have mercy", he pleaded.

The researcher smirked. "Always remember your place. You will never have what we have. No human will ever want you, not even as a pet- definitely not as a lover. Remember this- your barely human, and will never be treated as such..."

Jimin was heavily drugged up, laid out on the surgery table. However, what the researcher said, his words- Jimin remembered every last bit of it. It still rang in his ears. You will never be treated as human...

And so, if I'm not going to be treated as one, why try and act like one? Why not let my wolf counterpart take over? These thoughts dangled over Jimin's head. And with those thoughts, he used every last bit of his strength to stab one of the researchers with a knife- the same knife they were gonna use to rip him open.

Namjoon grabbed the other man through the metal bars, choking him until his eyes rolled backwards. Jimin rolled off of the table, and the rest is a blur.

Next thing they knew, the men in lab coats were dead, and all of the hybrids in the lab were freed by Jimin's hands. With how weak he was, it truly was a miracle. He saved the lives of over a hundred hybrids.

The next few months after, these hybrids hid in the woods, using their primal instincts to survive. Maybe those men were right. Maybe they were never human to begin with.

That's what they thought, but those thoughts went away when they met you. The person who was kind enough to let them in their home, give the somewhere to rest their head. It was you. You were their person.

But sadly, you couldn't erase the damage that had been done. You couldn't get rid of the bad memories, the mistreatment. And that moment you showed a bit of affection for Jimin, he was elated, but the voices started speaking to him.

And then men in the lab coats came to him saying, this won't last forever...

***

"Why didn't you tell me? I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable in any way!"

Jimin told you his story, his deep-rooted fears. You both laid in a field of daisies as he confided in you. It's difficult for you to explain the emotions you were feeling as he told his past. Sympathy? Rage? Both?

"Because... A part of me- actually all of me wanted to. I want to be yours. But the thoughts- they're stuck in my brain and resurface every time I get even a little bit of hope." Jimin's head hung low, picking the flowers from the fresh soiling and plucking each petal one by one.

She loves me...she loves me not... she might love me?

You grabbed his hands gently, holding them between yours. "Look at me", you asked him softly. He obeyed, of course.

"You are half wolf, that part is true. But Park Jimin, you are human! You more human than any human I've ever encountered! You're kind, charismatic, and the most thoughtful person I have ever met.

Your words brought tears to his eyes, and seeing him cry made you eyes swell, too. You enveloped him, hugged him tightly- but not too tight. Just enough to show how much you mean it. Then you placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

"You deserve this, Minnie." The new nickname perked his ears. You could tell he liked it. "You deserve life. An amazing fucking life."

"T-thank you", he whispered. "I- I can't thank you enough."

"Don't thank me. Just get better. Seeing you hurt makes me hurt. And seeing you scared makes me scared. I swear on everything I love that you will never go back there, or anywhere."

"But, once Joon is ready, we'll be gone", Jimin confessed. "I don't want to leave, but he also has his own story to tell."

You pondered, never daring to remove Jimin from your grasp. Maybe you can convince him to stay permanently? Maybe there is something you can do to ease the pain...

"Don't worry your pretty little head, just rest." You gave his hair a fluff, earning a cheesy smile from him. And just like that, you both napped in the field of daisy, his arms wrapped around your waist and your hands holding his head close to your chest.

You have to make things right...

~Taglist! (closing soon!!)

@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden @woozixo@anaspectoflife @blackrockshooter780 @famousdelusionobservation @jewishmommy @talyaaas-blog @eashmo @jaiele @kaceypdf @reallysparklychaos

~Permanent taglist!

@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o7

[christinesficrecs]

Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷

I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K

Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.

Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.

Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-

Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.

Give you that thing you can’t even imagine by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.

Shot Through The Heart by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 64.8K

The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.

Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K

“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”

It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.

“Then we have reached an accord.���

Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K

“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”

His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“

“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“

Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.

I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 11.4K

“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”

Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.

Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.

I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned

“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

I'll wrap up my bones, And leave them by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 65.1K

The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.

And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.

How long have I been on the hunt for you? by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 20.3K

“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 9

As you guys wanted, here's me doubling up on posting days. It will (hopefully) be twelve hours apart so that each chapter can get some love.

In this chapter we have a lot of flirting between Eddie and Steve. The Party being "meh" *shrugs shoulders* at Steve being bi. And Robin being the most soulmate a guy could ask for.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

That night they were all gathered to watch the amateur theatrical society put on Much Ado About Nothing.

Even the ones who had been reluctant to join in were doubled over in laughter at the trick the Prince pulled on Beatrice and Benedict. The way they cried when Hero was accused of cheated on Claudio. And cheered when it was resolved happily ever after.

Mike complained about it all the way to the car. “We were forced to read this play in eighth grade and I hated it. I never knew it was funny.”

Eddie put his arm around his shoulder. “That is the unfortunate side effect of the education system. They suck the joy out of all of everything.”

“Normally I’m rolling my eyes at Eddie’s rants,” Robin said, “but I’m going to have to agree with him on this one. They just want sanitized versions of everything.”

Steve nodded. “Like what’s with the jump in American history when we stop in eighth grade at the Civil War and then all the way to WWII in eleventh grade, with only a brief mention of WWI as it related to WWII. Are they really trying to tell us that nothing happened in those eighty years of note? Like the fuck?”

Mike blinked at him. “Holy shit, I never even realized.”

The kids looked around at each other in shock.

“They push math and science,” Eddie continued, “but shit on everything else, except sports.”

He winced when realized what he had said. He looked over at Steve with an apology on his lips, but Steve was nodding.

“And they have to be the right sports, too,” Steve agreed. “Wrestling, swimming, soccer...anything outside the big three baseball, football, or basketball. Trust me, I got a lot of flack on being on the swim team. It was ‘gay’.”

“What?” Will squawked. “Why?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Little, teeny, tiny uniforms.” He emphasized the point holding his fingers not that far apart.

Dustin snorted. “Can’t be any worse than the basketball shorts.”

Steve looked upwards as he chewed on the bottom of his lip.

Dustin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “How much worse are we talking about here?”

“Speedo.”

Lucas frowned. “What the fuck is a Speedo?”

Eddie was practically vibrating in his skin. “Can I tell them, Stevie? Can I please?”

Steve let out a little sigh. The sigh the Party lovingly called his mom sigh. It was the sound he made when he knew no mater what he did it was going to end badly for him, so he just...let it happen.

He waved at Eddie to go ahead.

“Instead of swim trunks, that have a leg on them,” Eddie crowed, “Speedos are swim underpants. They cover the junk, the ass, and that’s it.”

“And you deliberately wore these things?” Max asked in interest. More interest than Lucas or any of the guys were comfortable with.

“I’m good at it,” Steve said, blush creeping up his ears and down his throat from the stain on his cheeks. “The uniform wasn’t as bad Eddie’s making it out to be.”

Gareth snorted. “Nope, they really are that bad. There was a period of time where–”

Eddie slammed his hand over Gareth’s mouth. “There’s no need to tell them about that, Gare.”

Steve looked over at Brian.

“Your senior year Eddie forced all of Hellfire to watch your meets.”

“Bri!” Eddie protested.

Steve looked over at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “You like the...what was you it called it,” he said tapping his finger on his lips, “the ‘little, teeny, tiny’ uniform, Eds?”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I am but a gay man in a small town, so sue me!”

“I always preferred the lifeguard uniforms at the community pool,” Steve said. “Less wedgies.”

“Babe,” Eddie scoffed, “those shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. At least with the Speedo you knew what you were getting. With the lifeguard uniform it was all fantasy.”

Steve laughed. “I bet you were the kind who faked drowning to get CPR from their favorite lifeguard.”

“I can honestly say, I’ve never done that.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked all smiles. “Can you prove that?”

Eddie got up close to him and whispered, “Yeah, darlin’. I think I would have remembered you rescuing me before the Upside Down.” He winked at him and sauntered off. The rest of the band hastily said their goodbyes and hurried after their ride home.

Steve’s face was as red as his old life guard uniform. “Right. Let’s get home, yeah?”

Dustin eye’s narrowed at him for a moment. “Steve Harrington, are you crushing on my DM?”

The remaining eight looked at Dustin in shock.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “You can’t just ask that in public! What if someone overheard you?”

Dustin looked around and waved his hand around him. “There is literally no one here. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think it was a safe time to ask. But I’m going home with my mom as soon as she gets here and I will not be stymied.”

Steve ducked his head. “And if I did like boys, that would be okay with everyone?”

Everyone just looked around at each other and there was this collective shrug.

“Do you still like girls?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

Steve nodded shyly.

Lucas frowned. “You can like both?”

“Like David Bowie!” El said with her serene smile. “He likes both. Freddie Mercury from Queen, too.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly like that, El!”

Her smile grew.

“It’s okay if you like Eddie that way,” Mike said softly.

All the heads snapped to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay. I have a lot to work on regarding the whole Lucas thing, but I’m not a complete ass.”

“Thank you,” El said and kissed his cheek. “You just have a lot growing up to do. We all do. We just need to give each other the chances to do so safely. Or at least that’s what Joyce keeps telling me.”

Steve gave her a hug. “Thanks, Supergirl.”

He looked out at all his friends. The people who were more his family then his own parents.

“I might have a small...” he raised his finger and thumb, “crush on a certain metalhead DM who recently joined the Party in March...”

Robin scoffed. “And by little he means huge!” She spread out her arms all the way out.

Dustin’s head snapped around to Steve. “If you two get together, he better treat you right. You deserve it.”

Steve blinked. Considering how Dustin had worded his original question, he had been sure that Dustin was going to him not to break Eddie’s heart.

He gave Dustin a hug and kissed the top of his head.

He really shouldn’t have doubted this kid.

Just then, Claudia pulled up in her station wagon and Dustin, El, Will and Mike all piled in after saying their goodbyes.

“He totally has the hots for you, by the way,” Max said dryly.

Steve blinked at her for a moment. “How do you know that? Does he spend all his days learning alt rock on his guitar or something for me?”

Max just blinked at him. “Huh. You aren’t as stupid as I thought.” And then she just started walking toward the car.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “So to make sure I got this right, Max is saying Eddie has the hots for me because he’s been learning my favorite songs for me on his guitar?”

“That’s what it sounded like to me, man,” Lucas said with a half shrug.

“I’m with Lucas on this one,” Robin agreed. “So maybe you should do what I’ve been suggesting for the last three weeks and you know ASK HIM OUT!”

Lucas giggled.

“Shush you,” Steve admonished. “Get to the car.” He pointed at Robin. “You are spending the night with me to help plan out something cool.”

Robin saluted and Lucas just rolled his eyes and they all walked to the car to end another great night at the fair.

****

“Let’s play to your strengths,” Robin said, sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed.

“Sports, sewing, and history,” Steve said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me. It’s not as though I can whip out something overnight as a token of my affection.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something fancy. You could do something small. Like maybe use that fancy red thread you got at the weavers yesterday.”

He blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Everything I know how to make is either winter stuff or something he’d never use.”

“He uses that handkerchief all the time,” Robin pointed out. “You could do something like that.”

Steve flopped dramatically on his back. “Not if he knew it was made from that fancy thread I got. He’d want to protect it.”

Robin had to give him that one. Because that would be an Eddie thing to do. And while the sentiment was sweet it would make Steve sad that he never used it.

Suddenly Steve sat up. “Oh!”

She blinked at him. “What’s ‘oh’?”

“He was telling me just last week,” he explained, “that the bag he used to hold all his dice for their game got a hole in it and it kept spilling the dice all over the inside of his backpack!”

Robin grinned. “Let’s pick out the best material to match that pretty thread.”

Steve nodded. “I just have to make a quick phone call to find out how big the bag should be and I can have this done in no time at all.”

He called Dustin and told him his idea. Dustin was ecstatic and told him everything he needed to know.

Robin and Steve then dug into his material stores and picked out a nice black felt and a satin red lining to make doubly sure Eddie wouldn’t lose the dice down the gaping maw that was his backpack.

He then showed Robin how to make patterns and cut them. Then he got to work.

Even with how easily Robin got bored, she watched the whole time with fascination. How he embroidered his pattern into what would be the front of the bag. How quickly and evenly Steve stitched the pieces of cloth together. He explained the process every step of the way and her eyes just lit up.

He turned the bag right side out and fitted it with silver draw string. He pulled it taut and held it up to Robin to see.

She reached out and gently took it from him. “That’s so cool. You do a bunch of these at work and send them to Katie as way to gauge reactions to your work, while you make bigger pieces.”

Steve licked his lips. “You really think these would sell?”

“And I think Eddie would be pleased as punch that he got the first official Harrington Pattern design.”

Steve took it back from her and smiled. “That would make it even more special, wouldn’t it?”

Robin grinned. “Yes, yes it would.”

He threw his arms around her. “You’re the best soulmate anyone could possibly ask for.”

She blushed but held him tight. “You too, Stevie.”

When Steve finally pulled back he tapped his finger on his lips. “Now what to make you.”

Robin squealed. “But you already made something awesome. The pirate costume was amazing, you don’t have to do more just because you made Eddie something.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I just tailored the clothes. I didn’t make them. I want to make you something.”

She scoffed. “Like the only thing I need are gloves for marching band. Since I have to have hand-me-downs, they are either too tight or way too big.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never made gloves before. That would be fun and interesting to try.”

“How would you even measure something like that?” Robin asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her voice.

Steve grinned. “Do you remember those ugly ass hand turkeys they made us draw in elementary school?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just. Like. That.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wait are you serious?”

Steve just grinned.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

I'm not 100% sure my history experience in school is universal in the US, but in order to bridge the gap you actually had to an elective history class called Twentieth Century. Like it was straight up bullshit. And before you ask, you can bet your ass I took that class. It was taught by my favorite teacher. Of course I took that class.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @microbiology @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter

[dorlilymylovesss]

I want to speak out on a topic that has been really bothering and stressing me out. For several months now, Me and my friends who don't even ship jegulus, but are just Regulus fans have been harassed by Jily shippers. And not just with hateful words, but with specific accusations of fascism.

I want to start by saying that fandoms are a place where people can express their creativity and interpret characters as they like. Fanfics, art, and shippings are forms of self-expression, and they don't have to conform to canon. It allows us to look at characters from different angles, develop alternative plots, and create something new. And I don't judge or hate people for their favorite characters and ships.

I'm a huge Regulus fan even before the Jegulus ship came along. Regulus Black is a character I have a deep interest in for many reasons. Despite his limited appearance in the Harry Potter books, his story and character leave room for a lot of interpretation and thought. And I don't like it when people describe him as a regular Death Eater.

First, Jily fans often argue their dislike by saying that their ship is canonical( of course this is true and no one denies it) and James would never date a death eater. However, it should be remembered that fan art and shippings are inherently activities for the self and the soul. Even if a couple doesn't conform to "official" canon and never even met, it doesn't diminish the right of fans to create their own stories and interpretations.

Second Jegulus shippers are called misogynists.

But they may simply see these characters as interesting dynamics that catch their attention or interesting tropes that can be created. Choosing this ship doesn't necessarily mean they are intentionally excluding female characters and being negative towards them. Yes there are people among jegulus shippers who dislike Lily and exclude her from the story, but they are a minority. Plenty of jegulus shippers love Lily and also ship jily.

The charge of misogyny implies a conscious and systematic disregard for women or female characters. However, in most cases, Jegulus shippers simply enjoy a particular story or interaction between two male characters. This does not preclude an interest in or respect for female characters. Many shippers actively create and support content featuring female characters in other contexts or ships.

There is always a diversity of interests and preferences in fan circles. Not everyone likes the same characters or couples, and that's fine. However, to infer misogyny just based on someone's preference for a certain male couple without considering the overall context of a person's interests is wrong and unfair. Plus, I've seen thousands of Jily fans who were blatantly homophobic towards the marlily and pandalily enjoyers, and called James her only love, and erase her identity, leaving only her relationship with James.

Third, why calling the death eaters fascists is wrong and insulting to the actual victims of the tragedy.

Fascism as a political ideology and movement had specific historical roots and consequences, including brutal repression, genocide, and war. Death Eaters are fictional characters created by transphobic Rowling for a work of fiction, and their actions and motivations are part of a fictional universe.

Using historical examples of real-life suffering and tragedies to compare to fictional characters is disrespectful to those affected by real-life events. Historical tragedies such as the Holocaust require special respect and careful handling. And many Jewish content makers have already spoken out about it.

The kind of hate I've encountered as a Regulus fan is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. That being said, I've always loved jily, but after the hate, stupid accusations I've cooled off to them. You can't treat living people like that because of fictional characters. A lot of people don't care about canon written by a creepy transphobic woman, can you imagine?

Instead of wasting time on conflict and hate I suggest you create content on your favorite ships and leave other people alone. You have no idea how your hating can affect a person.

Not all shippers have the intention to demean or exclude other characters. Many of us simply love a particular dynamic and choose to explore it in our writing. This should not be taken as a threat or insult to other fans.

I love jegulus and jily, but my fav ship is dorlily and it saddens me that fans of the same fandom hate each other so much.

Not all shippers have the intent to demean or exclude other characters. Many of us simply love a particular dynamic and choose to explore it in our writing. This should not be taken as a threat or insult to other fans.

Leave other people alone. If u can't create content for your favorite ship and only can hate others its your f..king problem, it's unhealthy and childish.

I'm deeply sorry for jegulus artists and writers who got hate here and even death treats. I hope you will continue creating something that makes you happy.

[talaok]

Love your writing!!!! I’m obsessed! Can you do one where a mutual friend sets Pedro and (y/n) on a blind date? Xoxo

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: thank you love, and thank you for the really cute request💗💗

Why did I agree to this?

This is not like me. Not even close to how I am.

I don't go on blind dates, I don't even have Tinder for fucks sake, that's how much I don't like hanging out with strangers.

It had taken Julie a whole night and more drinks than you'd like (or could) remember to make you agree to this, and as soon as you woke up the next morning, regret had settled into your chest like a fucking life sentence, but as much as you would have loved to call your friend up and tell her how much of a mistake you had made, a part of you couldn't help but wonder how bad could it really be.

It had been a while since you'd been on a date, and from what Julie had said, this Pedro looked like a nice enough guy, so you had taken the downright mental decision to not tell her you'd changed your mind, decision that, as you walked into the restaurant, you were starting to really regret.

he waved at you as you entered, and as you walked closer and he stood up from the table, a part of that regret couldn't help but shimmer out of your mind.

He was... handsome.

The photos Julie had shown you didn't do him any justice.

"hi" you smiled nervously "I'm y/n" you said, shaking his hand

"I'm Pedro, it's nice to meet you"

He had a nice smile, very comforting and very much matching yours in terms of nervousness.

It had been a while for him too.

And the photos Julie had shown him definitely didn't do you justice either.

He had never been good at talking to such beautiful women.

"nice to meet you too," you said, sitting down opposite to him.

"so" he cleared his throat after a few moments of embarrassing silence "umh- How are you?"

A smile pulled at your lips "I'm good, thank you" you nodded "what about you?"

"oh I'm- I'm nervous" he let out a small chukle, making you laugh softly.

"yeah, me too" you said "It's been a while"

"yeah, for me too" he confessed "and you are... well you're very beautiful, so you're not making things easier for me"

A soft blush crept up your cheeks but you managed to chukle nonetheless.

"Well I'm sorry, I'll go into the bathroom and take off some of my makeup if that'll help"

He laughed at that "No, no I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you for offering"

"anytime" you joked

"So umh, Julie told me you're a writer"

"Yup, that's me" you smiled

"That's incredible"

"Oh c'mon you're an actor, now that's incredible" You raised an eyebrow

"Oh no no, I just repeat stuff that's been written for me in front of a camera, you create whole stories from your imagination" he debated "That's far more impressive"

You rolled your eyes playfully, as your smile got only wider.

"You're a real flatterer you know that Pedro?"

"Who, me?" he grinned, putting a hand on his chest at the accusation "I'm just speaking the facts" he spoke, making you huff a laugh "so what do you write about?"

"all sorts of things, I don't really have a genre" you explained "I've written sad stuff, romantic stuff, creepy stuff..." you shrugged "It mostly depends on my mood"

"that's nice" he nodded,

"and what about you, are you working on something right now?" you asked

"I've just been cast in a tv-show"

"really? What show, if I may ask"

"Oh it's umh- It's the Mandalorian, it's in the Star Wars universe"

"oh my god" your eyes widened in surprise "You're joking right?"

"nope" he smiled "yeah trust me, I was pretty freaked out myself"

"Oh my god" you breathed, "I think I need a moment to take this in"

"I take it you like Star Wars?"

"like?" you laughed "I've grown up watching Star Wars, My brother and I know every single line to The Return of the Jedi, I-" you stopped yourself "I think I just fell in love with you Pedro, I think we ought to get married as soon as possible"

"Well that was easy" he chuckled

"How are you not freaking out?" you asked, watching him as if he were an alien doing cartwheels

"I think you're doing enough of that for the both of us" he joked

"Yeah I really am, aren't I?" you smiled, coming back down to earth a little bit "it's just- that's crazy. I'm- I'm really happy for you"

"Thank you" he flashed you a smile, and that's when you noticed that it wasn't only his smile that was comforting, but his eyes too, they were so incredibly... expressive.

The rest of the dinner went by so smoothly you completely forgot you hadn't known this man your whole life, but in fact, just met him two hours ago.

"Well, I... I had a really great time y/n" he smiled, looking nervous again all of a sudden as you stopped in front of your car. 

"Me too" you grinned 

"So, since I have your number..." he cleared his throat "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind me calling you sometime soon, to umh- to maybe do this again?"

Your heart started beating a little bit faster

"I'd love that Pedro"

"Oh thank God" he let out a sigh of relief

"You were nervous I'd say no?" you asked, doing a poor job of hiding your shock

"well... yeah"

"I proposed to you during the first five minutes of this date, of course I want to see you again" you laughed

"well I suppose that's true" he chuckled, letting his eyes take you in one last time "So umh, have a good night" he said " I can't wait to see you again"

"me either" you beamed "have a good night Pedro"

And as you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but smile up at the sky.

Thank god I didn't call Julie back

[skywalkr-nberrie]

There are some gems for Anidala in the Junior ROTS novel (which is basically a simplified version of the movie and novel) and I once again wish to dump it onto our fandom.

Padmé and Anakin reuniting after 5 months, Anakin saying he feels complete by just holding and kissing his wife and her telling him that now she’s “whole again” 🥹 it’s giving “they are a pair, please do not separate.”

Anakin not being able to keep his hands off his wife, Padmé being the only sane one in this pair and slipping away. The “patience, my handsome Jedi.” Anakin not caring and reaching for her again before Padmé can escape 🤣 and of course, slowly moving into the pregnancy reveal, Anakin senses something is off about Padmé, and she tells him how alone she’s felt ever since he left and that it was truly very hard for her. 🥺

Give these two a 6 month vacation twice a year every year, please and thank you.

(This passage is badly cropped here, forgive me.)

I love this part in the novel because it sheds light a bit on how Padmé felt when Anakin told her of his vision. In the movie and original novel, it mostly centred around her trying to comfort Anakin, but here we see that Anakin is letting Padmé know he saw a vision about her dying, and Padmé becomes visibly tense and feels a “cold chill.”

Her natural instinct was to reach for her Japor Snippet that Anakin had carved out for her and I think this indicates how this tiny piece of wood brought her so much hope, and comfort in her times of despair. It makes sense why she was holding onto it so tightly when she was dying and giving birth. I feel like it played as a substitute for Anakin’s presence.

I’ve seen some people ask about why Padmé was crying during the Temple burning scene in the movie, and I never thought it could be more obvious. In the original script for ROTS this was the interaction between Padmé and 3pO:

So we know Padmé was crying about Anakin after 3pO confirmed he returned to the Temple. And in the above passage I posted from the Junior novel, we see how Padmé was indeed worried sick over Anakin, feeling a wave of relief when she sees a Jedi starfighter land on her Veranda. She rushes over to Anakin, asking him if he’s alright, that she needs to hear from his mouth that he’s okay, despite that she can see that he’s physically alright and doesn’t at all look to be harmed.

I simply love this passage because of the faith Padmé has in Anakin’s loyalty to her, and how well she knows him. Padmé never once doubted him and it’s astonishing to me that people say she trusted others over him, when this is her innermost true feelings for him. And the way that she knows Anakin is loyal to people and not politics. She knew he was loyal to her, and she knew he was loyal to OW, which is what triggers her question about him. And because of this, she feels the an odd way about the way he mentions the Senate and the Chancellor. She feels her real husband slipping into something she can’t recognize and it scares her.

Padmé at this point has lost almost all her faith in the Republic, feeling the war will never end so I just love how she narrates here that knows she can believe in Anakin even if she lost faith in everything else. Once again the subtle mention of the unwavering trust that Padmé has in Anakin.

One of the most painful moments in the movie, praise to this passage shedding more light on Padmé’s feelings and anger towards OW for all he’s saying about Anakin, it is beautifully captured. The way she looks at OW accusingly, begging him to deny her accusations, overcome with the horror that he’s about to kill the love of her life. It’s too much for her, and this is the start of the end.

(This is it for now. There are more I wanted to post but I’m at my limit 🥲 I’ll probably make a follow up post again.) - 🌈☔️

[vodika-vibes]

A Marriage Of Convenience

Summary: You and Kix have been friends for years, since near the start of the war to be more precise. So, when you ask him to marry you, in the hopes that a legal wedding would finally give him and his brothers the rights that they deserve, he jumped at the chance. It worked. And now, four years later, with the war over, you’re still happily married to your best friend.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 1298

Warnings: Some miscommunication

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: So this whole idea was born from the many asks I got on Saturday about this very topic. Also, I'm feeling much better, it seems like my fever finally broke late last night. Maybe. I haven't actually checked, lol.

Kix wakes slowly, taking his time to fight off the claws of sleep that want to drag him back into dreamland.

Not that there’s any reason for him to be awake, he’s not a soldier anymore and the clinic is closed today, so he could sleep in if he wanted to. But, even now, years after the war sleeping in feels wrong to him. 

So he lays in bed and blinks hazily at the ceiling, waiting to wake up enough that he’s able to roll over and look at his comm to make sure none of his brothers did something stupid last night.

Kix is about to roll out of bed, intent on starting his normal routine— an hour-long run, and then showering before making breakfast— when he hears a groan from next to him. 

His riduur is slowly waking up, and he can’t stop the smile that crosses his face at the sight of her lying there. Her hair is a mess, sticking up in random directions, and curling into her face. 

She blinks at him blearily, “Kix?”

“Good morning, riduur,” He sits up and leans over to brush a curl off her face, only for it to spring right back into place, and he has to muffle his laughter. “Your hair has taken on a life of its own.”

“S’alright,” She mumbles, “It does that sometimes.” She yawns widely, and Kix feels his heart clench. She really is unfairly adorable. Good thing he’s already locked her down and he doesn’t have to worry about anyone stealing her from him.

“You can go back to sleep, riduur,” Kix says lightly as he lightly pushes her hair out of her face so he can see her pretty eyes, “It’s early.”

“You’re awake,” She accuses as she rubs her cheek against his hand.

“I have a thing about sleeping in,” Kix replies, “You know this, cyar’ika.”

She squints at him, “Someday, I’m going to make one of your brothers tell me what those words mean,”

He leans in as if to share a secret, “They’ll never tell you because I’m scarier than you are.”

She pouts at him, and it’s almost enough to make him want to tell her what riduur and cyar’ika and cyare mean. Almost.

“Kix,” She whines his name and it takes all of his willpower to keep breathing, “We should sleep some more.”

“Cyare,” He teases her, “I’m going to go for a run.”

Somehow, her pout becomes more pronounced, “But sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you from sleeping in, cyar’ika.” Kix reassures, “And I’m certainly not going to force you to go on a run with me.”

“Good. If you did I’d ask for a divorce.”

“Ouch.” Kix replies with a laugh, “No need to worry, riduur, I know you’re allergic to running.”

“I’m only going to run if someone is chasing me,” She yawns again and buries her face in her pillow, her gaze locked on his face.

“Good to know.” Kix watches her watching him, and he raises a single brow, “Why are you staring?”

She grins at him and sits up suddenly, flinging her arms around his neck and knocking him back onto the bed.

It’s so surprising that a startled laugh falls from him, “Riduur—”

She buries her face in his neck and drapes one of her legs across his hips, her arms tightening around him, “There. Now we sleep.” Her breath is warm against his neck and Kix shivers, unable to help himself.

Slowly his arms wrap around her, one of his hands tangling in her hair, while the other slowly strokes her back, “Someone’s clingy this morning.” He murmurs in her ear.

“I’m clingy every morning,” She replies as she rubs her nose against his neck, “You just normally get up before I can be clingy.”

Kix hums thoughtfully and then shifts his head so that his nose is pressed into her hair. She smells citrusy, a mix of her shampoo, body wash, and the lotion she prefers. It’s a scent that he’s come to associate with her and with safety.

It’s a scent he’s come to associate with love. His love for her, to be more specific.

Kix doesn’t say anything for a moment, and he’s almost positive that she’s fallen back to sleep while half lying on him, until her fingers curl into the thin material of the shirt he wears to bed.

“What’s up, cyare?” Kix asks as he glances down to try and see her face.

She shifts so that her face isn’t buried in his neck, and the expression on her face isn’t one he’s ever seen before. It’s soft and warm and makes goosebumps spread across his entire body.

“Kix,” His name is a sigh on her lips and his arms tighten around her, pulling a startled squeak from her. A smile spreads across her face and she shifts so she’s able to press her hand against his cheek.

Kix closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

“I’ve been thinking,” She murmurs.

“About?” She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Kix opens his eyes to look at her, her expression has become slightly wistful as she gazes up at him, “Cyare?”

“This whole thing started as a way to get you all rights,” She murmurs, “And it worked. You’re all legal citizens of the Republic.” She pauses her thumb lightly trailing against his jaw, “If…if you wanted a divorce,” She says quietly, “So you can find someone you actually love—”

“Stop.” Kix interrupts and she immediately falls silent. He slowly moves his hands to cup her face, “I want you. Only you.”

She blinks at him, and then she huffs, “You don’t love me, Kix—”

“Says who?”

She blinks at him dumbly, “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

“...General Skywalker said that the marriage was—”

“I haven’t spoken to Skywalker since the war ended. How would he know?” Kix points out.

She blinks at him again.

Kix sighs, “Listen to me, riduur. Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you for ages. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I’m happy with how we are. I absolutely do not want a divorce.”

“...you don’t?”

“No, I don’t.”

She shifts slightly so that she’s lying on top of him, her gaze scanning his face as if trying to determine if he’s lying to her or not. And then she releases a soft sigh and she leans in to press her forehead against his, “You love me?”

Kix smiles at her, “You single-handedly won rights for me and my brothers. How could I not love you?”

“Not single-handedly.”

“Close enough.” He counters dismissively.

A soft laugh falls from her lips, and Kix can’t help the small grin that crosses his face at the sound. 

And then, quickly, she presses her lips against his.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed since their wedding day and Kix immediately leans into the kiss, allowing her to set the pace. And when she breaks the kiss, she looks flustered and she won’t meet his gaze.

It takes him a few moments to reset his brain and his grin is broad, “Does this mean that all talks of divorce are off the table?”

She shifts and presses her face against his throat, but he feels her nod.

“Good.” Kix tightens his arms around her and adjusts her so that she’s lying on the bed again. “I suppose I little early morning cuddling would be good for us.”

She peeks up at him, a small grin playing on her lips.

Later he’ll comm Rex and get him to find out what, exactly, Skywalker said to his perfect riduur, but for now, she deserves all of his attention. And she’s going to get it.

[a-very-tired-jew]

A lot of the current antisemitism I see on here, other sites, and experience in person reminds of behavior I see during cases where I'm required to attend in person and/or testify. Often there will be people outside of the court house who are associated with the defendant, accused, or victim and are there for one reason or another. Emotions are high as someone is watching a loved one be tried for a crime, another person is hoping that they get justice for their loved one, and every reason in between.

When I enter a courthouse people often do not know who I am outside of the lawyers involved (though sometimes an unsavory lawyer has told the civilians who I am or who my colleagues are so that they mob us beforehand). My job is to testify to the evidence that I analyzed and reported on. I simply state during what period of time insects could have potentially arrived at, what stage of development they are in, and what that developmental stage implies. I do not testify to the guilt or innocence of the individual on trial, and as a consultant I work on a first come, first serve basis so as to not be biased towards defendants, plaintiffs, or prosecution.

All things considered, my testimony is usually a dry lecture on insects, their developmental stages, their community stage and progression, what that tells us, and how we use it.

However, afterwards when I leave at the end of the day there will be some friends and family of one of the above persons screaming at me. I've been called a murderer, a criminal, a Spawn of Satan himself, and more insults than I can remember. This has come from families of accused who desecrated and mutilated bodies to families of the victims who are lashing out at anyone who would testify for the defense. I have no actual impact on the crime itself, I was not present in any capacity until after the fact when I was brought in.

But because I have some relation to the case, as a professional, I am now a target that can be lashed out at. I can be insulted and even assaulted if the emotional reasoning of these individuals so dictates.

That's why I'm drawing this comparison.

The way in which the current iteration of antisemitism is used to lash out at Jews just reminds me of these people outside of the courthouses. They're highly emotional and lashing out at anyone with the slightest relation to the thing they've labeled as bad. They see red and actual objective reasoning is replaced with subjective thought, which can be easily manipulated and directed. There's very little to actually be done when engaging with this kind of person.

No matter how many times you explain to the family members outside of the courthouse that you're only there to talk about insects they still view you as the enemy. Just as it doesn't matter how many times you explain to an antisemite that the average Jew in NJ has no impact on the war, they're still a representation of "Evil" and must be insulted/assaulted.

The unfortunate part is that it's the entirety of our people being targeted in this way (yes, even the anti-Zionist Jews get it - e.g. Yuval). Unlike the people outside the courthouse we can't actually ignore this either. You can't just walk away and go home, never to encounter those persons again (usually, sometimes you get called back). Antisemitism is ingrained and extremely prevalent with people attacking Jews and Jewish institutions regularly. There's no way to actually ignore it and be safe. I wish there was. I wish I could just tell an antisemite some cool bug facts and be done with it, but here we are.