#nalla writes

[tempestuous-tempest]

I dont write often because I've had writers block, but I kinda have an idea for a Watch_Dogs based story or fanfic or whatever you wanna call it.

I already gave it the title despite not writing it out yet; "The Tiger, The Fox and The Hare". However the idea is with one of my 5 characters (Nalla: A Fixer), Jordi and Aiden. It's not exactly a romantic type thing to be honest.

But basically they go on a job together and the big main event in the story would be a masquerade party type thing. That's where the Tiger, Fox and Hare kick in as they are wearing their respective masks. (Jordi as the Tiger, Aiden as the Fox and Nalla as the Hare.)

Of course it would have more too it but that's the base idea.

[smileeverydayfor2reasons]

I'm gonna try my best to express myself okay? Don't be mad please sweetie

My world changed when I met you. You looked at me like I was more then I was at the time and you made me feel like I was finally enough. You're the light that guides me when I'm lost. Your love has given me more than I could'e ever thought: You were the reason I got my laugh back. The reason I fell asleep for so long with a smile on my face. The reason why problems didn't seem so bad at all. I have to be honest with you. I think about you. A lot. All the time actually, In the morning, at night in the midlle of the day. It's you. It has been always you. No matter how much we talk to each other eveyday, I'll never get bored of you. I smile instantly every time I get a text, call, or picture from you. You make my days better and It amazes me to know I'm in your mind for the past 8 years too. I want to hug you so tight, I miss my nalla and shellan so much.

You know what? Sometimes I just sit there and imagine all the little scenarios of us in my head. Been able to kiss you, hold your hands and confort you when you are sad. Be there, not miss a single conversation, ear you laugh and see you smile. Taking random trips to places that we don't know. Cuddle while watching a movie and sing with you even if we are really bad. Bringing you closer to me and finally sleep holding you

My emotions are overwhelming me, impregnating every aspect of my being. It only took a split second before I realized that I might have been in love with you. Our daily conversations and shared laughter can't be ignored, and it feels like we were preparing for something more .The voices in my head finally stop screaming. Love found me when I least expected it, and when I gaze into your eyes, everytime I see volumes of unspoken words.

You know the difference of a hero and a villain? A hero would sacrifice you for the world. While a villain would sacrifice the world for you. And trust me when i say I'm no hero.

When you asked about how my perfect day would be, I described watching the sky turn into the moon while eating sushi from a familiar hilltop with you by my side.The hours would pass slowly, and we would never run out of time. We would recite our favorite quotes and rewrite our thoughts so that they could rhyme. We would enjoy a big breakfast, more like a brunch, filled with orange juice, strawberries, and butter toast with crust. Then we would walk hand in hand to a well-stocked bookstore downtown, where we would buy too many novels and carry them like a crown. We would drive with the windows down, your shoes dropped on the car floor, and I would feel fulfilled looking at the passenger seat. I would sing softly to the sky, and in that moment, you would fall in love with me a little more. The sheets on my skin that I've missing for years would appear. When you asked me how the day would end, I would only tell you that you would have to wait and see. In reality, my perfect day would end up with you marrying me.

I am struggling to find the right words to express the depth of my emotions. When I look at you, I feel like I should fall to my knees and pray, because there's no other way. You make me believe in miracles, but even that does not fully capture the extent of your impact on me. You are sunshine incarnate, and you make everything seem less difficult but easy. I want to write full novels about your smile, but words fail me as I try. You are a core memory of joy, the person of my dreams, and my love for you is bursting at the seams and sometimes even brings me to tears. 8 years ago I saw you for the very first time. The first glance made me speachless and to be the most honest that I can be, 8 years of speachness it's the least I can provide I want every year of every lifetime we have.

I love loving you. You made something that felt so damned, something so damn fun! You make the messy nature of such an intense-emotion something to savour and celebrate. You make the hard discussions feel worth it because I know that we respect eachother enough to not tamper with wounds we both entered with. You made morning breath seem not all that bad. You make my insecurities fade away when I catch you looking at me as if you just met me yesterday, it's was if every morning you were seeing me for the first time. I cant lie, I go through the day unfazed by how others see me because in a world full of madness there is you. You make me realise that whatever I had accepted before was never love in its purest form. It was lazy, neither compassionate or kind, neither gentle nor preserving of mind. It was a mismatch of souls. But you. You make love the most exciting thing I have ever experienced and for that I am forever grateful for loving you. And being loved by you

Thank you for 8 years, I really love you my pyrocant

[mylittlesecrethaven]

My Art (Can't Fucking Draw)

Ok, so I've drawn before, for fun and for a class, and I have to say, I prefer traditional.

I've never tried a stylus for drawing, so I guess my opinion doesn't really count.

But still.

Anyway, I'm gonna show you some art that I've done in the past.

One for a high school art class that I never got rid of, and one I just did in 10 minutes for this post with a pen cause I couldn't find a pencil.

For the class, with a pencil, and I spent maybe an hour on this. (It was a free draw day I think)

This was with a pen. It would have looked better if I could have erased stuff, but whatever. I didn't write the names on here, but the main creature is Frankie, the small eye is 526 Nalla, and the dead head impaled by Frankie is Kadence.

Unlike Child Chomping Charlie, who just eats kids, Frankie has a tiny story.

Frankie is a little trickster, as it has fake limbs, and Kadence attacked Frankie and cut off its fake head. So, Frankie took Kadence's head. Then it got hungry and ate 526 Nalla.

Yeah, I suck at drawing. I can't draw normal shit like people or fruits or cars.

I can draw these abominations.

Just like my stories, I'm limited to the shit nobody likes.

[nalladragewrites]

Defeat

Beads of sweat are racing down her back.  The one that makes her quiver first, wins.

She pushes her hair out of her face so she can watch her surroundings.  By watching, she realizes she’s being watched.  After just sloppily pushing her hair back, she moves her fingers above her head like a sporadic orbit, checking for misbehaving strands of hair.  She felt the sudden urge to fix her uniform and lost. 

She glances around, looking at the people but especially at how much time is left.  She looks next to her to the girl that’s stalking her like prey.  She felt the girl was attached to her.  Only there was a fifteen foot gap and like her orbital, it was unseen to everyone else but her.  

She didn’t just glance at the girl, she clearly checked her up and down, took her in, trying to regard what she was up against.  With her intense glance, she gained immediate confidence.  But how could she be so confident?  How does she know she has the upper hand?  It’s simple; she doesn’t.  All she can do is hold her head up high, be alert, expect anything and wait.  

It should be unnatural to have to wait.  It is for her.  She would gladly do jaw-dropping, bone-breaking, tedious labor while baking under the hot sun then have to wait.   

Standing here now, the blazing sun beating down on her, sweat still dripping, she sighs.  She’s been tense for the last ten minutes but now she’s finally starting to relax.  

Wrong idea.

She knew it was going to happen before it actually did.  She saw it in her teammates eyes.  

Finally, she got the ball. Now all she had to worry about was her defender.  Of course the girl was much closer now, trying to stop her in her tracks.  This is the time when she’ll learn who really does have the upper hand. 

Her mind is flooded with every skill she learned but is unable to put it to use; she speeds up and runs right past the defender.  

Her teammates are running with her, supporting her if she needs it, and other defenders are flanking in from behind her. Yes, behind her. 

Her hair is trailing as she’s running full speed towards her goal.  The closer she gets, the quicker she moves, her body full of adrenaline.  At this point, nobody can touch her.  Her mind is blocking out everything except what’s ahead of her.

She’s getting closer.  She has to take a shot.  She sets the ball closer to her right leg. Mid-stride, she takes that leg, pulls it back and kicks…laces down.  After she sends the ball away, she looks up, watching it, but she already knew something went wrong.  Her kick wasn’t as strong as it should’ve been.  She slowed down, no longer running full speed, just letting her legs carry her forward.  

She watches the ball roll on the ground into the goalie’s grasp.  She’s been defeated.  Not by her opponent, but by her own self. 

The goalie is getting ready to punt the ball back out on the field.  She jogs back to midfield with praises of ‘Nice try,’ and ‘Good run,’ follow behind her.  The game goes on.

[ladaar-hasmoved]

ngl.    i might remake.

[gethighithefloor]

He couldn’t tumble out of the cart fast enough into her arms, foot nearly catching on the threshold. It was his mother, his real mother, the one who had held him in his very first moments, choking a breath and a cry through a film of afterbirth. Of course she recognized him right away, wouldn’t any mother? Even her hold felt warm and familiar, like everything he ever wanted. And his father, overwhelmed with relief, wrapped around them both, the warmth of his body seeping into Nalla’s own.

“Oh honey, you’re home...” He heard her whisper so sweetly into his ear, and a weight that had hung his heart so heavy for so long seemed to disappear.

Nalla immediately closed shop, and though he knew an extra night of his horse tucked in a stall would cost extra, he didn’t mind at all. Nothing else mattered, not now, that he had his family back. Everything would be alright now.

At least, Nalla thought that, he did, from the bottom of his heart.

Stepping into the small house, he was surprised to hear them call into the hall ‘We’re home!’. Who else was there? His grandmother or grandfather? Maybe an aunt or an uncle? Even the prospect of meeting more family so soon excited Nalla so much, and his silvery eyes blinked in surprise when he saw a young girl come into the hall instead.

She looked startlingly like him, wild brown hair (albeit more tamed into braids) and gleaming grey eyes. She was so much younger than him, by ten years or more, but... there was no way that could be his sister. Perhaps a cousin, or a family friend! They wouldn’t have just--,

“Come meet your brother, Arleigh! He’s home! Cynn is home!” Her mother-- their mother called out. Yet, instead of greeting him with a warm smile and a hug like their parents anticipated, both siblings simply... stared at each other in a mix of confusion and apprehension. There was a long stretch of silence, long enough that it felt like hours to Nalla, before a strong hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Come on Cynn, dinner will be ready in no time! Our first dinner together as a family!” A family, right. Right. He was home, wasn’t he? God, his lips and throat felt so dry, and his tongue like a dry sponge in his mouth. No words could come out, so instead he gave a nod, and walked further into the house-- no, his home. His home.

Except, it didn’t feel like home. Suddenly, as he roamed the halls and stairs, the feeling of being lost hit him like a speeding horse. There was no room for him here that was saved for the say he would return, no smell of lembas baking, or moss threatening to grow past the window sill. No elvish spoken down the hall, in gentle murmurs, or the soft noise of the chimes he’d made as a child ringing in the night air. Where was he? Where the hell was he?

A soft rustling around the corner caught his attention, and turning quickly, Cynn could only catch the end of a braid and the hem of a skirt before hearing the pattering of footsteps getting softer and farther away. So there he stood, in the living room with the fireplace crackling and snapping away, feeling a chill that the flames could not warm. Cynn heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes until he felt them ache and they danced with stars, trying to remember that this is what he’d wanted all along.

Right?

“Dinner’s ready!” His head lifted from the heels of his hands then, and unsure of which way the dining room was, Cynn simply followed his nose towards the rich scents of meat and bread. The house was small, so there was no trouble finding it, almost easy enough that he could tell himself he knew all along, that it was natural like it should have been. There, his father sat at the head of the modest table, Arleigh to his left. A wonderful dinner had been made, a roast sitting in the middle gleaming with juices and a reddish sauce. There were potatoes and roasted and buttered vegetables for sides, and a three glasses of a deep red wine sat before Cynn and his parents seat-- Arleigh given some sort of fruit juice instead.

Instead of his stomach growling in hunger, it churned with a familiar nausea.

Once they were all seated, the three of them said a soft prayer, leaving Cynn to glance around awkwardly. Was he-- supposed to join? Who were they praying to? Before he could clasp his hands as well, the three of them were already finished, and his father raised a glass to toast.

“To Cynn’s return! We waited so long for this day!” He said warmly, his grin wide and sure. Forcing a small one of his own, Cynn toasted to... his own arrival, which they had waited for. Did they only just wait? Didn’t they look for him like he had for them? 

The wine was bitter and deep, and burned the back of his throat. It sat strangely in his stomach. The beef, rich and dripping with succulent juices, tasted... bland, muted to him, and the potatoes that looked so creamy felt more like sand on his tongue. The food was far too heavy for his stomach, and his tongue missed the bright notes of freshly caught fish seasoned with herbs from Edoras and a lemon from the neighbor down the road. Of grilled vegetables with just a bit of salt, and fresh fruits afterward. Cynn felt a headache coming on, so instead of sipping on wine, he drank glass after glass of water. His mother took notice with a small gasp.

“Oh-- Cynn honey, I’m so sorry, you’re probably used to much lighter, Elvish foods, aren’t you?” She tsked at herself lightly, and Cynn felt a small sense of relief before... wondering why. Why did she know that, so specifically? Why? Why?!

“Why?” The words spilled from his mouth without him realizing, and it was his mothers surprised expression that told him he had spoken aloud. “I-I mean, how did you know that?” Cynn tried to play it off with a crooked smile and a soft laugh, but the air was already still and awkward, the question begging to be answered.

“Well, of course, we had... Left you near Mirkwood, all those years ago.” His father answered instead, earning a quick snap of Cynn’s head toward him. Out of the corner of his eye, Arleigh sunk down a bit more into her chair, pushing around a piece of meat with no intention of eating it. There must have been a look of confusion upon his face, for his father explained further.

“It was a curse placed upon our family, that our firstborn would be plagued with sleep, but forever without rest. Your mother and I, we didn’t want anything else to befall you, Cynn, we wanted to protect you... So we let you roam one day, near the edge of the forest where we knew an Elf would find you, and take you in.”

Cynn opened his mouth to speak, yet when he needed words the most they seemed to fly away. They had... left him there, intentionally, and had known all along. All those years, they knew he was in Mirkwood, growing up faster than any of his peers, unable to make truly lasting friendships due to their difference in life span. Cynn could feel himself shake, could hear the fork in his hand gently tapping the porcelain of the plate with each tremor, so he set it down instead. The first home cooked meal with his birth parents that he craved so badly threatened to come up for a second, more acrid taste.

“Cynn, honey, we... We know its hard to hear, but we hope you’ll understand. We didn’t want something even worse to plague you, and then we had Arleigh, and...” His mother spoke, adding guilt on top of the anger on top of the sadness on top of the bitterness. He glanced over at his sister, only a young girl, and was almost startled to meet her eyes. Arleigh, much to his surprise, did not break their gaze. Her’s was set in an expression... much more grave than he thought a girl her age should have. Perhaps she understood what he was feeling, somehow. Cynn opened his mouth, but a fuzziness tugged at the back of his head. His breath choked, voice trying to form any sort of warning, before everything went black.

And then, he was back again, like nothing had happened. Except, while he knew he was fine, while everyone who knew him would know it was just a small hiccup in his life, these people... Didn’t. His mother and father stood beside him, one hand on each shoulder, while Arleigh looked aghast, pale like she had seen Cynn die before her eyes before coming back to life. Despite he words of concern going on around him, asking if he was alright, if he felt okay, it all sounded so... muted. He wasn’t home. He wasn’t with his parents. He wasn’t Cynn.

Nalla let out a soft sigh before standing, causing everyone else to watch him rise from his seat. They all looked upon him with varying expressions-- surprise, worry, horror, the same way a stranger or a customer would look at him if his curse took over while he was somewhere unfamiliar. And that’s where he was, somewhere unfamiliar, in a house full of strangers. Nalla looked over at all of them before forcing one last small smile.

“I’m fine, thank you. Thank you for dinner. I think... I’m going to go now. Thank you again.” He felt like a broken record. He just wanted to leave, wanted to go home to Mirkwood and see his friends in Rivendell. To see Thindthórod and fall asleep in his arms. This place-- this wasn’t home at all. This was... a family that he had grown apart from, the moment he stepped foot in that meadow near the forests edge, cooing in curiosity.

“Cynn, please don’t leave, we have so much we want to talk to you about!” The woman protested, and Nalla realized he never even caught her name. He had so hastily called these people ‘mother’ and ‘father’ that he didn’t... actually know who they were. And they didn’t know who he was either. Bitter bile rose in the back of his throat, burning up his chest from his stomach and-- no, that wasn’t vomit, it was anger.

“My name is Nalla.” Not that they asked. Not that they knew. As quickly as he could without breaking into a run, Nalla turned and headed toward the door, hearing a chair scrape behind him as the man and woman followed him with protests to his departure. He couldn’t hear them, he could barely feel the door handle beneath his hand, but falling asleep for brief moments in his life had lent his body and mind the ability to be able to run automatically, even if he felt he was elsewhere. Heading toward the stable, Nalla was relieved to find Bethril straight away, and still hearing the muffled protests of the couple, Nalla turned around to face them.

“Please.” His voice bordered on desperate, quivering. He was always such a crybaby. “Please, just... It’s fine. I found you. I’m glad.” That was a lie, but he continued on. “I just... need time. I need time.” He breathed out, busying his hands with Bethril’s bridle. Before he could see the womans tears, Nalla turned away and quickly put the piece onto his horse, clutching at the lead like a lifeline. Bringing Bethril out from the box, Nalla gave one last glance toward the couple, who held each other as if they were threatening to fall apart.

“We love you, Cynn.” The man called out, and Nalla could only stare back before clenching his jaw. Wordlessly, he turned away, and started back toward his cart. His question was answered-- he knew why he was found by the Mirkwood forest, he knew where his ‘parents’ were, he knew what they had been doing the past twenty-four years. Yet none of the answers satisfied him, none of them. He just wanted to see someone familiar again.

Upon arriving at his cart, harnessing Bethril was easy and mechanical, second nature. The familiarity of it brought Nalla a small sense of calm, one that was erased as soon as he turned around. Silvery eyes looked up at him, just a few feet away, braids in a messy fray like his own ponytail often was. Arleigh panted heavily, obviously having run quite far from home in her search for his cart. Her parents must have mentioned it to her while Nalla was wandering their halls like a ghost trying to find its place. The siblings stayed quiet, save the small pants coming from Arleigh, and Nalla couldn’t help but... feel sympathy for her. None of this was her fault, yet her mere existence was what crashed into him the hardest. She... didn’t deserve any of this.

Climbing into his cart, Nalla searched his wares for something small enough before glancing at a thin, golden bracelet. The chain itself was delicate and the gems embedded in the charm formed the constellation Remmirath, one he had seen many autumn nights living in the forest. Stepping out, Nalla was both surprised and pleased to find Arleigh was still there, though she had caught her breath. Quietly, Nalla approached her, and slowly knelt before his younger sister before taking one of her hands with care. She let him, never letting her eyes break from his actions, and letting out a soft gasp when he pooled the delicate bracelet in her tiny palm.

“Keep it. Please.” Nalla choked out, gently curling the young girls fingers around the piece. Looking up at her, Nalla’s eyebrows raised as he watched Arleigh’s eyes well before tears spilled onto her freckled cheeks. It seemed being a crybaby ran in his blood after all, and at the thought, he couldn’t help but smile a bit. Reaching up, Nalla gently wiped the tears from Arleigh’s cheeks.

“I never want you to blame yourself for this.” Their eyes met, and his words were firm now. Understanding, both of his plight and of her role in it, Arleigh hesitated before nodding, and gave a strained smile of her own. Before her brother could stand, the girl threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging Nalla as tightly as she could. The young Man was hesitant, but gingerly returned the hug before pulling away. 

“Thank you.” She finally spoke, the first words Nalla had heard her speak the whole night, and they were ones of gratitude. He could only wish that some part of himself was as selfless as Arleigh was in that moment. In return, Nalla could only nod, finally standing and, after a beat, heading back to his wagon. He climbed onto the drivers seat, and without another word from either of them, Nalla departed from the town.

Arleigh watched it go down the street, toward the small stone gate that ended the town she lived in. She watched the cart get smaller and smaller, barely lit by the moons silvery light, listening to the small chiming of the jewelry inside and committing the sound to memory. 

They said no goodbyes.

[officerjennie]

My writing partner tends to dose on the job. Rude.

[badedramay]

What is your theory for why Imlie and Aryan will get married? Do you think as per promos Aryan’s going to pressure Imlie? There would be no logical reason other than Aryan wanting to protect Imlie from something if he initiates it.. but what would he need to protect her from?

I do think the promo is misleading. Aryan and forcing Imlie is literally the most uncharacteristic thing for him to do. He's not the one to force. He just isn't! And I know it's ITV and why look at other shows when Imlie the show itself is full of character flips with the writing either completely changing the characters' personality or changing their past behaviors as per convenience of the present. so, a part of me is kind of ready to just....take a deep breathe and accept the possibility that Aryan might just force Imlie to marry him.

It's the "marry me if you want to save Aditya Kumar Tripathi" that is completely incomprehensible to me.

Aryan gets triggered if he sees Aditya around Imlie. The fear of him losing Imlie to Aditya gets stronger with each passing today. In today's epi...Aryan was already mad at Aditya but what pushed him towards violence was Aditya putting his hand on Imlie. Will Aryan, even in his own selfishness, demand Imlie that she ties herself to him for the sake of Nalla?

All of Aryan's actions related to Imlie have either been to protect Imlie or empower her. He isn't the one to take away her choice and this is something that we keep being shown again and again through his words and actions. Last time he said it was after the Malini PF. So now SUDDENLY for him to be all "buss ab meri marzi chalegi!" is a bit...eh?

the current facts at hand that we have are - Nalla is in trouble with police + Aryan's personal vendetta against Aditya is out in the open + Imlie is shocked at the reveal. how Imlie reacts to Aryan's motives is yet to be seen. will she drop him completely is yet to be seen. earlier I had said to a friend that Imlie is done™ with Nalla but that might not be the case as before the accident, Imlie was distraught thinking about Nalla's proposal. she was stuck between a Yes or No choice. that could come into play again.

with Aryan's reveal as being not-as-noble as Imlie had thought him to be...in a way him and Nalla are on the same-ish level in front of Imlie's eyes (gawddd I hope that's not the case but for the sake of presenting a conflict let's say that has happened) and honestly that has upped the stakes of this being a intriguing track. what will be Imlie's choice now? her past connection with Aditya or the new connection she formed with Aryan? the show has made it clear that a part of Imlie is still with her BS which is NORMAL considering their history. despite her tall claims of trusting only her Boss Babu now...we know that Imlie has had a history of doubting Aryan when he acts just a little bit out the character she has established of his in her mind i.e. unconditional friend.

I guess what I want to say is that no, I have no concrete theory about how this marriage will come to be. but the writers have planted a couple of seeds already so whatever the path they will take...that will make sense and when that will happen, I most probably will not have major complains. sure the show is devoid of any real world logic but in the show's universe...every track has done justice to the main characters. progress happens, relationships change and develop with time. stagnancy nahin rehti yahan. AryLie's relationship has gone though many ups and downs...this is yet another road they'll have to take to reach to the next stage of their relationship.

dekhte hain kya hota hai.

though I must say the promo has already delivered what it promised - hooking the audience. look at ALL of us raking our brains about how the marriage will take place based on just one promo when the entire WEEK has been about everything but the promise of any shaadi. kuch bhi kaho...shaane hain Imlie ke CVs xD

[fitfmybeloved]

🍓 nalla compliment pannu

list time!!

1. TALENTED AF. hello?? every single one of your edits and gifs are literally mind-blowingly good, like the amount of detail in each and the colours!!! also you draw!!!! SO WELL!!! and you sing toooo like wow ( i havent heard you unfortunately </3) but i KNOW you're incredible at it. AND you write!!! an absolutely amazing all rounder

2. SMART do i have to say anything? youre booksmart and streetsmart and you amaze me

3. GORGEOUS. stunning, beautiful, handsome, breath-taking, etc.

you're also so encouraging and supportive and one of the friendliest and most welcoming people ive ever met, and im soo so happy we started talking and became friends. you're the prettiest thamarai there is 💗

[deadgirlrising]

Wrote a little backstory thing for Nalla, my aasimar paladin in @kloud‘s D&D campaign. Story below the cut, so I don’t take up your whole feed

Nalla had gotten up earlier than usual to make sure he was prepped.

First, she’d snuck into the kitchen and packed him a week’s worth of field rations, sturdy food that would keep for a while and not fall apart in his bag. Smart as Aukan was, he sometimes neglected the important little things, like whether he had enough food and water. The last time she’d left this to him, he’d packed some muffins and they’d gotten smooshed up in his saddlebags, and he’d only had enough for a day or two anyways.

Her next stop was the stables, where she checked over Quincy, his horse. He was clean, freshly brushed, and well-rested, his shoes in good shape for a long journey. Exactly as she’d expected. Not that she didn’t trust the folks working the stable, but it never hurt to check. Nalla saddled him, made sure everything was secure, and left him ready for his master.

She stood there a moment, going over a mental checklist, then marched back to the house and filled a small wineskin with water. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she thought of a happy memory, brought the mouth of the skin up to her lips, and gently blew into it. The scent of strawberry wine bloomed in her nose, pleasant and evoking warm summer days. Nalla took a sip, just to be sure, then nodded, grinned, and popped the stopper in. Perfect.

Back in the stables, she put it down in the bottom of Aukan’s bag: a nice surprise for later, when home was far away.

Almost as an afterthought, she added a small medical kit: bandages, surgical spirits, needle and thread, some dried herbs to help with pain. Basics, just in case.

“Seems I’ve caught you doing my job again,” Aukan said.  “You’re going to have to let me learn the hard way, one of these days.” His voice was a pleasant baritone, touched with amusement, their mother’s accent laying lighter than it did on her own voice.

Nalla looked up to find him in the doorway, leaning against the frame and giving her a sharp-toothed grin, his facial markings and molten gold eyes sparkling in the lamplight, seemingly relaxed. Aukan was tall, even by Evenwood standards, and as near to slender as their family got, dressed in sensible riding clothes; dark shirt and trousers, blue cloak pinned with a small golden broach shaped like a beetle. He wore a short, neat, white beard and had his white hair pulled back in a short tail between the upturned points of his golden horns. He held a pair of riding gloves in soft, long-fingered hands, golden talons manicured and gleaming. Only his tail, held low and wrapped close to his body, betrayed his anxiety.

She grinned back and futzed with Quincy’s mane. “You start taking care of yourself, I might do that.” Her own voice was a pleasant alto, their mother’s accent slightly thicker on her tongue. “But until then, I’ve got your back.”

It was an old routine. They took care of each other. Always had, always would.

Nalla came around the horse, towards Aukan. Now that she was paying attention, she could feel that perfect, gentle chord thrumming in her soul. She gestured to the bags piled around his feet, her golden nails and the markings on her rough, calloused palms glittering. “You want a hand with that lot?”

He looked down, as if he’d forgotten the bags were there. “Oh! Yes. Please.” He hefted a pair of them and handed them over.

She took them as if they weighed nothing and carried them over to set on the horse, redistributing the contents for a more balanced load. It was all books and writing supplies, not really a surprise. If Aukan was around, you could bet there would be books and things to take notes on. They finished loading up Quincy in comfortable silence.

“Is that everything?” Nalla peered past her brother’s shoulder at the empty doorway, half-expecting to see a lonely, forgotten bag. Probably with his clothes in it. There was nothing there.

Aukan pulled a small journal from a pocket and opened it, mouthing words as he marked things off with his fountain pen. After a few moments, he closed it and nodded, satisfied. “Yeah, that should do it.” The journal and pen disappeared back to where they came from.

She handed him the reins. He flopped them over Quincy’s neck and moved around the massive horse. “Can I get a hug before I go?”

“Of course, little brother!.” Nalla grinned and swept him up in one of her patented bear hugs, taking the poor man off his feet and crushing him to her breast.

He hugged her back, rolling his eyes (she was older by all of two minutes), and then started trying to wriggle free. “Can’t… breathe…”

Nalla set him down, mussing his hair and grinning, golden eyes bright.

Aukan wheezed comically for a moment, then stood straight, took out a small mirror, and set about smoothing his hair. He pouted. “I do wish you hadn’t done that. You know how long it takes me to get my hair just so.”

Eventually, he put the mirror away and gave his sister another hug. She returned it, much more gently this time.

“Are you ready, Auk?”

He pulled back, sighed, wiped his eyes and blew his nose on a kerchief, then took Quincy’s reins again. “No, not really. But if I don’t go now, I don’t know if I ever will.”

She opened the door and held it for him while he walked the horse out, shut the stable doors behind him, and they headed for the front gate, where a small crowd was waiting. Aukan’s somewhat impatient valet on his own horse, Nalla’s young squire, Kara, standing at ease with Morana and Lucian, Nalla’s other retainers. She made her way over to join them.

The rest of the family in a disorganized crowd to either side of the gate. They were a stark contrast to Aukan and Nalla, with their dark hair, brown eyes, and tan skin, but they were family. Their parents stood together, their father dabbing at his eyes with a kerchief, their mother standing on her good leg, strong and stoic, but hugging him gently to her side with one large hand.

Nalla stood with her staff while the family said their goodbyes, giving them space. She felt a gentle hand on her arm and looked down to find Morana giving her a questioning look. She gave her a weak smile. “I’m okay, ‘Ana, but thank you”

The dwarf nodded and looked back to the crowd, but left her hand on Nalla’s forearm, a comforting pressure.

Eventually, the crowd of family dispersed a bit and Aukan mounted up next to his valet. Nalla moved up to join the family, making her way to her twin. “Hey.”

He looked at her. “Hey.”

“Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t forget to write. Let me know if you’re in trouble.”

He smiled down at her. “I love you too, ‘La. I’ll be alright.” His smile turned to a grin, and he gestured to his valet. “I’ve got Himo here watching my back.”

The half-elf valet frowned slightly but said nothing.

Aukan said his final goodbyes and rode out the gate, off through the town, on the way to gods only knew where.

Nalla stood at the gate, watching as he dwindled into the distance, that perfect chord fading until only silence remained, leaving a space like an abandoned theater in her soul.

[phurycursed]

Mary’s Advice

Dear Diary,

Phury here I just thought I would say hi. I was talking to Mary and she believes that I need to express myself as I am and these are her words. A pressure cooker getting ready to blow. Now I am not really sure what that is but I do know what happens when things blow up. I have been on the end of Butch’s pranks enough to not want that type of a blow up. I may leave pieces of me all over the place. I also know first hand what happens when my twin blows up. I really don’t want to punch anyone, I would hurt my hands!                                                                                                                       

Now I do believe Mary was only trying to help me, but I am not sure what she thinks writing out words will help me do. I do not feel like I am going to blow. I feel normal. Ok I have gutted a few Lessers, ok more like 40 odd over the last few nights. I could have just sent them packing but…                                            

DAMN IT!

But that doesn’t mean anything. I am just doing my job. So what if I like to hear them scream right now. So what if I like to bath in their blood right now. So what if I dream of rolling around in their blood naked while they scream for me.

DAMN IT!

Diary I really don’t see how this is helping. I should be sleeping right now getting rest so I can head out tonight and hunt for screams, wait I mean Lessers.

DAMN IT!

Mary you are a female of worth, you are Rhage’s mate. You mean well but I wish you hadn’t asked me to do this. I don’t like looking back over my words. I think I need to burn off some stress. So I am going to put down this pen (Maybe through a Lesser so he screams) and go find my Nalla.                                                                                                                            

Diary have a nice life as I will not be writing in you again. 

#MarysAdvice 

[nalladragewrites]

August 31st

My mom died when I was ten.  I struggle every day trying to make sure I remember her.  It’s hard though, considering I never got the chance to know her as a person.  I was too young to realize she was more than just my mom.  Everything I know about her or remember are just hard facts.

She had dark brown hair.

Her hair was naturally straight but she had a perm.

Her forehead was always covered by bangs.

She was Italian and Irish.

She was anywhere from 5’2”-5’4” depending on who you ask.

Cows were her favorite animals.

She had a cow oven mitt; it had a tongue.

She pierced her tongue and couldn’t talk for the rest of the day because of it.

A naked, green-haired plastic troll stood on a desk in her room.

Green was her favorite color.

Sometimes she wore a New York Yankees baseball cap.

We used to watch Gargoyles together.

She listened to Babyface, TLC, Boyz II Men, and Garth Brooks.

One thing that’s almost tangible for me, the main thing that really brings her to life, is our laugh.  This booming sound from within is an exact replica of hers.  I hear myself and I picture her sitting at the dining room table, on the phone, with her voice carrying throughout the apartment.  

It’s hard for me to know if I even look like her, mostly because she isn’t around for people to compare me to.  I like to think that if my mom were around and we went out together, people would tell me how much I look like her.  Here I am with my blonde hair and blue eyes, writing with my left hand, being the complete opposite of what my mom was, and not knowing if I’m anything like her.

Girls surround me bleating about how their mother is their best friend and I bite my tongue to keep from crying.  They talk about how their mother is their rock and that they wouldn’t know what to do without her.  Sometimes they remember that I’m mom-less and turn to me with big eyes before saying, “Oh.  Sorry.”  

All I can think about is how much my mom is not here.  I’m smothered by my need for her.  I needed her to tell me what to do when I first became a woman.  I can’t think if she would calmly explain what to do or if she would laugh about it to make me more comfortable.  I needed her to reassure me that I wasn’t dying when the blood wouldn’t stop and the cramps left me crumpled on my bed.  On the days where I couldn’t uncurl myself from the fetal position, I see myself lying on her bed with her watching Gargoyles.  

When I first got my heart broken, and I was sobbing into my pillow, I like to think that she would be getting ready to drive to his house and giving her a piece of her mind, or telling him how stupid he is or that he would never get anyone better.  Most of all, it would be her consoling me and feeling what I felt, instead of my dad’s cold hand and vacant reassurances.

I imagine her at my graduation, her smile wide enough for the both of us, screaming in the crowd as I walk across the stage.  Afterward, I would tower over her, diploma in hand, and she would be wearing heels so she didn’t look so short next to me.  At my wedding that I never imagined having, she would fix my veil and tell me I was making a huge mistake with the corners of her eyes crinkled by her smile.  She would cry but tell me there was something bothering her eyes as she tried to hold back tears.  

It’s the little things that make me realize how much I need and miss her.  I watch in awe as my roommate cooks, telling me everything she learned was from her mother.  I cringe when people talk about what their first words were, knowing that I’ll never know mine.  I try to imagine what our relationship would be like if she was still alive.  I like to think that I could talk to her about anything and being able to have that companionship so many others seem to have with their mothers.  I stretch my imagination to the brink when I try to think of who she really was as a person.  

I walk around wearing her necklaces, cozying up into her flannel and buying things that replicate hers, trying not to lose her.

~~~

“Nicole, wake up.”

My sister, Jennifer was standing over my bed in the dark of my room.  I didn’t want to get up.  I didn’t want to play school like she always did, or draw puppies her way.  I was tired.  If I got up, I’d have to listen to her and do whatever she made me do because she was two years older than me with a temper.

“Why?” I whined.

“Just get up.”

I didn’t.

“You can go eat or something.  Just stay up with me.”

She knew I wouldn’t say no to food.  I remembered the chocolate cake we had and with that, I threw the covers off of me and rolled out of bed, making sure to act like I really didn’t want to.  

We walked out into the living room and sat on the couch.  Jennifer didn’t say a word to me.  Instead, she sat with her knees up to her chin and stared at the blank TV.  I tried to sit with her but couldn’t keep myself from fidgeting.  It got to the point where I too stared at the TV trying to imagine that my favorite shows were on.  I stayed like that for as long as I could.  Everything was still and I felt like I was being a burden every time my breath got too heavy or I switched positions. Jennifer sat unmoving.  

“Can I watch TV?”

“No.”

I sighed heavily and threw my head back on the couch cushion.  I stayed like that until Jennifer was the one who broke the silence.

“Go eat something,” she said, never looking in my direction.

I pushed myself off of the couch and searched for the chocolate cake but must have only dreamt about it.  I sat sitting on the kitchen floor, staring into the pantry, boxes surrounding me like a moat.  The phone rang and I realized how late it was.  I immediately wondered who it was and why they were calling.

“No.  Nicole’s up.  I don’t know.  She’s in the hospital.  I don’t know.  Okay.  Yeah.  Bye.”

“Who was that?  Who’s in the hospital?”

“That was Uncle Tony,” she whispered, her voice cracking just enough for me to be concerned, “Mom’s in the hospital.”

Her words weighed me down and I shrunk closer to the floor.

“Why?” I asked but received no reply.  I left the pantry and sat back down on the couch next to Jennifer.  I didn’t know what we were waiting for, or who, but staring at the black TV screen seemed like the best way to do it.  Hours must’ve passed before I finally knew anything.

My grandmother walked through the front door first, with my dad trailing behind.  It was then that I realized I didn’t even notice he was gone.  Jen and I were still seated on the couch and our grandmother sat between us.  I was too concentrated on my dad, who took a chair from the dining room and pulled it over to us.  He seemed to let go at that point, falling into the chair like gravity was a puppeteer and his performance was over.  His head hung low, almost touching his chest and he seemed to shrink into himself.

I focused my gaze back at my grandmother, who was trying to pull me and Jennifer closer into her.

“Girls,” she started, “I need to tell you something.  Just sit down here.  Sit next to me.”

“No!”  Jennifer leaped from the couch, “Just tell me what happened.”

I watched as my grandmother took a deep breath, casting her eyes down.  I couldn’t help but wonder why no one would look at us.  

“Your mother,” she began, and I felt my chest tighten, “she’s gone.”

Jennifer sprang from the couch and burst into tears while I just sat there.  I looked away.  Away from my grandmother and wailing sister.  Away from my father who was just barely there.  I don’t know what I was looking for but it hit me.  My chest closed in and I couldn’t breathe.  My body became rigid and unfamiliar.  I felt the stunning silence from the blow that came after my grandmother’s words and the shock made it so I couldn’t feel anything.  Then all at once, I crashed.  Like a black hole my body buckled and closed in on itself just as my grandmother pulled me in before my head could hit my knees.  The tears came fast and hard and I was already choking on them.

I just saw her.  She was here only a few hours before.  We had a pillow fight as she was getting ready to go out for the night, her red blouse flowing against her white blanket as Jen and I rolled around the bed, pillows grasped in our hands.  I heaved with guilt, realizing I never said goodbye.  I was too busy playing with my toys.  

I half turned my head towards her as she was heading out of the door.

“Goodbye, Nicole!” she yelled from the doorway, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she was getting ready to step out into the night, ready to leave my life forever.  

“Bye Mom!”  I bet she looked beautiful.  

“I love you.”  

“Love you too.”

I looked at my father who was sobbing into his hands.  I have never seen him cry and it frightened me.  I walked over to him and put my little hand on his back, trying to console him but also keeping my distance.  His massive paw reached around my waist and pulled me in. 

Later, we watched the news about my mom’s accident.  There were more facts:

The car broke down.

My mom and her friends were pushing it to safety.

It was a four lane highway.

Three lanes of cars were stopped.

A taxi driver came careening around the traffic.

He was drunk.

My mom got hit.

She never saw him coming.

It was a three car accident.

The news showed the car my mom was pushing as the reporter said, “The car was travelling across the highway without its lights on…”  They showed the car with the lights clearly on.  They showed the side of the road where it was littered with broken glass and a stain that looked like blood.

At the funeral, so many people came.  People I had only met once and some I didn’t even know.  They were all here to mourn my mom and say goodbye.  This was my chance to say goodbye as well but I couldn’t do it.  I didn’t want to see her like this.  I stayed outside until my grandmother and Aunt escorted me in, urging that I had to say goodbye.  I agreed meekly.

They pulled me down the aisle.  Everything in the room was too pink for a funeral.  It should’ve been green.  I resisted. I started to lean back but felt my family’s hands around my arms, my waist, dragging me closer.  Halfway down the aisle and I changed my mind.  I didn’t want to see her but I didn’t know how to say it.  The casket was getting closer and closer until finally I was looking down at my mom in a box.  Everything was wrong.  Her hair was too flat.  Her makeup was too light.  Her lips were closed too tightly.  Whoever did this clearly didn’t know my mom.  They wrapped her up with herself; her hands clung too tightly to her stomach.  Even her smell was wrong.  

I knew what they had done.  It was obvious.  They sewed her lips shut so her mouth didn’t sit agape as people came to touch her face.  The long sleeves of her shirt covered any bruises or cuts that she had and the lower part of the casket was closed for obvious reasons.  I looked at this stranger and a thought came into my mind, It was a three car accident.  Her hands were clasped as they were because someone molded them there.  Her fingers stuck together like clay before it’s burned.  My mom was clay, and this is what she looked like before they burned her.

I ran out of the room still wishing I said goodbye to her on the night she went out.  The person my grandmother and aunt coerced me to say goodbye to was not my mom.  When I’m not trying to remember who JoAnn Marine was, I try to make sure she’d at least be proud of me.  I cling to other people’s mothers like it will fill this hole within.  Not as a replacement but for an idea of what I’m missing.  It’s not fair and I can’t help but envy what it means to have your mother in your life.  I want to know what it feels like to say my mom is a rock, my best friend, and that I don’t know what I’d do without her.  Instead, I look at other people’s moms like I did that blank TV screen and try to portray who my mom would be through them.  

[ladaar-hasmoved]

got to hear all of the nalla songs in person.     let us name them

call me a symbol on the top retrospection judgement ( & punishment ) perennial teacher, teacher wallflower mediator

[msbeccieboo]

Top 10 female characters

I was tagged by the fabulous @allimariexf, thank you!! It was so hard to only list 10, and so by no means is this list extensive haha, but here are some ladies I love...

1. Felicity Smoak (Arrow)

2. Dana Scully (The X Files)

3. Cordelia Chase (Angel/Buffy)

4. Karen Walker (Will & Grace)

5. Ziva David (NCIS)

6. Temperance Brennan (Bones)

7. Bridget Jones (Bridget Jones)

8. Ally McBeal (Ally McBeal)

9. Samantha Jones (Sex and the City)

10. Rachel Berry (Glee)

Rules: Write your 10 favourite female characters from 10 different fandoms and tag 10 people

Tagging: @blondeeoneexox @tangled23works @magda1102 @nalla-madness @pleasantfanandstudent @geneshaven @green-arrows-of-karamel @almondblossomme @christinabeggs

[officerjennie]

Get to know your mutuals!! When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. When you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better! 

Tagged by @raendown​

Oh boy, five things I want my followers to know? Hmmmm....

I’m both a secretive person and also an extremely open book xD Sounds contradictory, but I tend to be like that. I love talking to people, and I love sharing things with them - but only three people out of the many friends I’ve made know what I look like or what I sound like. And I honestly prefer it that way. I love being open and getting to know people, but I also love my privacy. Any information that could help someone find out who I am irl I like to keep to myself for the most part. Those three people are just big exceptions.

I barely ever get on here anymore, so I don’t typically respond to tags or games - but it doesn’t mean I don’t love being tagged. I still usually read through what I’m tagged in, even if I don’t respond. So please feel free to keep tagging me in things :)

I’m slowly getting back into writing! Taking a massive step back away from tumblr has been extremely good for my mental health, and I’ve been creating words and art here and there :3 It’s made me very very happy to be able to create again.

I am slowly but surely converting everything in my house to cat things, and nothing will stop me

Speaking of cats, my little family just expanded by one! Those of you who have been following me for a while might remember my posts about Nalla and Fat, the latter of which sadly passed away at a young age. But, recently, a senior kitty needed a new home, and I couldn’t say no. So please say hello to Lolla, the 13 year old kitty whose officially commandeered my bed for her own :3

I’m too lazy to figure out who I’m mutuals with, so feel free to say I tagged you if you want to do this :)

[karadndrp]

I’m Bad At Love // Nari @ Sylvia

REWIND: AT THE SAFEHOUSE

Despite her late night excursion, Nari rose with the sun and readied herself for the day. As she strapped the plates of her armor into place, she found her with mind wandering. Wandering from her room, down the hall and around various corners until it slipped past a familiar door and filled with the memory of soft lips and warm skin. The memory had her heart speeding up in the present, her skin going hot until it was uncomfortable. She snapped back into her head and found herself standing frozen with a shoulder plate in hand, breaths coming a bit too fast with that warm twist of pleasure tinged now with anxiety.

Nari turned on the spot, sank down into the chair of the small corner desk to try and calm herself down again. The anxiety grew sharper, more worrying. She wished she could talk to someone about this -- but it couldn’t be Sera, no. Not when Sera was part of it, when Sera couldn’t feel the same way (because despite what she’d said, Nari didn’t believe her statement that things weren’t serious for her and Lex). And she didn’t want her pity, or her rejection. She didn’t want their friendship to suffer because Nari felt the way she felt. Their friendship would always come first to her and she was sure she’d get past it at some point.

Then there was Thea. 

So no, she couldn’t speak to them, and she didn’t know Nalla or George or Lex or anyone else enough to go to them. What she really wished was that she had a mother, one who would be around to help her through self-discovery and give her advice without judgement. But the woman she wanted, the woman she needed, was not the mother she’d had growing up. 

It was Sylvia. And the moment that thought slipped into her head, Nari scrambled for paper and a quill, digging through the desk she sat at almost frantically until she had what she needed to write a letter. She began:

Hello, Sylvia-

It’s Nari. I hope you’re well, and Rosalie too. I miss having you here to speak with, somewhere close by so that I can see your face as well. I hope we get to visit soon. It’s a bit hectic now, especially since we’ve now visited with Aunt Enid and will be finishing our trip in Astorbury to play tourist in the big city. Very excited.

In any case, I wanted to write you re: something else. I’ve discovered something about myself that I’m not really sure how to move forward with. The path to this discovery is a complicated story and I’d rather not get into the details, but either way, the results remain the same. I’ve found that I have desire want feelings abo certain affections for the fairer sex. Which I know is certainly not a bad thing, but I’m afraid it’s presented me with further realizations and potentially some problems. I really need your help processing how

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned we’ve been joined by two others, but we have, and one of the two is a cleric. She’s beautiful very kind and though no cleric could ever replace you, I’ve found myself paying more and more attention to her until everything built up and I visited her last night and ended up kissing her. We talked a bit after and she spoke to me about my attractions and such and then we perhaps kissed a bit longer before I returned to my own room some time later. Just kissing, I swear it, but I’ve never felt anything like it.

I’m very attracted to her and I don’t know what to do. Any advice you could give on that would be appreciated.

There’s also the small minor fact that I perhaps have very soft feelings for Sera but they can’t be acted upon because she is in a relationship with someone you also know, name starting with L. I don’t know how to protect my heart from that particular rejecti- No need to advise there, I’m very aware nothing can come of it.

In any case, I love you very much and I hope the decision you made in leaving us is treating you well. I want you to know that I miss you every day, but I understand why you had to go. Finding your happiness in this world is as important as anything and though perhaps I will not be able to seek my own any time soon, it gives me joy to know you’ve found yours. Happiness and hope are, after all, what I defend.

All my love,

Nari

Nari rolled the letter and sealed it quickly, asking around outside of her room until she found a raven to attach it to. She sent it before she could doubt herself and then almost viciously erased all thoughts and feelings on the matter from her mind. They had bigger fish to fry. 

Forging hells.