#not going well in cer city

[aliettali]

what if they were happy and nothing bad happened to them

[imraespace]

THE FESTIVAL OF LIGHT so light up their world, it shall be enjoyed by everyone.

PAIRINGS: no pairings but includes sumeru characters GENRE: modern au but still present in sumeru NOTE: if there's anything wrong here please correct me!! WORD COUNT: 1.7k

"The spiritual victory of light over darkness, good over evil, and knowledge over ignorance."

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"The time to destroy all our dark desires and thoughts, eradicate dark shadows and evils, and gives us the strength to carry on with our goodwill for the rest of the year."

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"So.. can I use my sparkler to scare the evil away?"

Your eyes shifted to one of the kids present in your circle. A small smile formed on your face as you heard the question.

"Well.. yes you can-"

"CMON GUYS LET'S GO!"

"Oh.. at least they're in the spirit." You mumbled to yourself.

You rose from your seat and fixed your skirt. Your eyes lingered on the children, running away and enjoying the view of the sparklers in their hands. Just two minutes ago they were begging for some Diwali stories. Oh well!

"Y/N! You look so beautiful!"

Your attention on the children was moved as soon as you heard a new voice. Your head turned in the direction and noticed the elderly woman who stood right in front of you.

Her eyes shifted from your saree to your accessories, to your bindi. Admiring your beauty on the whole, giving you the warmest smile.

"Thank you ma'am," You replied, returning the smile. Your eyes wandered to her hand, actually to the item in her hand.

"Do you need help?" You asked, stretching out your hand. But to your surprise, the woman shook her head, yet still offering it to you.

"It's actually for you and your parents, your mother helped me once, this is my thanks." She explained, giving you the basket filled of sweets.

"Oh, thank you!"

You took the basket out of her hand and gave her yet another smile. Her eyes made their way onto your hand and offered a suggestion.

"If you want, I can offer to do your mehndi." Her body moved in the opposite direction, showing you a group of ladies who were conversing with each other while letting their mehndi dry.

Your eyes made their way back onto the woman and agreed to her offer, making your mini-departure and beginning your adventure back to your home, with sweets in hand.

The sun had already set, yet the city was not dark. It was lit up, beautiful lanterns everywhere, diyas being lit and placed at the entrances of homes. So your venture back home was well lit, not only with the lights but with the smiles of passersby and children outside who were enjoying the activities.

That elderly woman wasn't a stranger, in fact, everyone who's a local isn't strangers to each other. But that woman always offers gifts to your family every year, so it won't be shocking if your mother has a gift prepared for you to give the woman.

As your home was in view, your mother noticed you as she was opening the windows, in the hope of Mother Lakshmi finding her way inside to bless them with wealth and success.

"Y/N, you're back! Before you return back to the city, can you help me place the diyas around the house? And outside. Please!" Your mother informed you, opening the door for you.

You made your way inside and made it into the kitchen, greeting your father and witness the food on the table.

"I brought snacks, we can eat them later."

Your father nodded at your words, then asked a question.

"Are your friends still coming over?" He asked.

"Cyno and the others? Of course."

With those last words being spoken, your mini activity with your mother started, diyas placed around the house, more attraction for Mother Lakshmi.

Before you left the house once again, your mother gave you a basket of sweets to offer the elderly woman.

You made your way back to the city, gave the gift to the woman, and got your mehndi done as well! The ladies nearby invited you into their conversation as you let your hands dry.

In the end, once you were finished, you bid them goodbye and left.

On your mini walk, a certain someone caught your attention, she blended in with the children nearby. Talking about children, it's the group from earlier and upon noticing you, they invited you over.

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"That looks amazing, good job guys!" You praised them. The group of children all came together to create rangoli, along with..

"Y/N?" A soft voice reached your ears.

"Nahida, hello." You greeted, bending a bit to reach her level, giving her a small pat on her head. Nahida wore a lehenga, a green one that complimented her eyes.

A small smile made its way onto her face as her eyes shifted from you and back to the children that surrounded her, witnessing the teamwork each kid put into creating the rangoli.

Nahida stood up from her spot and turned to face you.

"Is it time to go? I got caught up with them, I forgot about the invitation to your house." She started.

"No, it's not time, I'm just strolling and then I saw you!" You simply explained, causing the girl to nod at your words.

"Shall I join you?"

"Of course!"

You two then made your way deeper into the city, in hopes of maybe finding your friends along the way.

As you wished, the stroll with Nahida was indeed calming but in doing so, you met up with some familiar faces. That being Tighnari and Collei.

Upon seeing you both, Collei gave you two a cheerful wave as her face lit up. Tighnari noticed and began walking up, Collei slowly following behind.

"Is it time?" He asked. You shook your head no and asked a few questions.

"Have you seen the others?" You asked, though before you could've gotten an answer, Nilou came up from behind.

"I'm here!" She exclaimed, twirling in her saree. She gave you a tight hug, then turned you around, showing Cyno and Candace.

"Everyone's here!" You said, expressing your excitement with a bright smile and clasping your hands together.

"Since we're all together, won't it make sense we make our way back to your house?" Nahida asked, placing all the attention on her.

"Sure, we can." You replied.

The newly formed group of friends followed behind you as you all ventured back, that is.. Until something caught your eye, rather someone.

The group noticed the change in your behavior and stopped walking.

"Is something wrong?" Cyno asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You turned to face him, then your friends, and decided to change up the plans.

"Let's go back, but I have a suggestion to make."

"And that us?" Tighnari asked.

"I'll explain once we get back. let's go."

"May the lights of Diwali brighten your path and illuminate your life with peace and joy."

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"Is everything ready?"

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In your hands held a lantern, making your way with not only your friends but everyone you've talked to tonight, that elderly woman, the children, the ladies, and your parents, all holding diyas, lanterns, sweets, and tasty food.

The sight was wondrous, everyone came together yet the plan wasn't completed, not as yet.

You, being the first and the only person to notice, made your way to the dark and silent home, a bit far from the city's light. Silently, you rested the lantern on the floor and knocked on the door.

Knock!

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"What do you want."

"For you to open up of course."

"Then you'll be waiting there all night long."

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"You're still there aren't you..?"

"Mhm!"

Just then, you heard a sigh from the other side causing you to laugh a bit. You picked back up your lantern as he opened up the door, glaring at you.

"Why are you here? You're supposed to be enjoying the festival."

You smiled at the mention of the festival.

"I'm here to bring the festival to you Scaramouche."

"Why?"

"I saw you peeking in the darkness, I know you want to join in, but too scared to ruin it, is that what you're thinking?"

Indeed that is what he was exactly thinking. Yet he won't admit to that.

"Just go back." He ended, about to close the door but his eyes caught onto the light in the background, rather at how the light got closer..

Then it hit him.

"What are you.."

"Like I said, bringing the festival to you, everyone should enjoy the warmth of Diwali." You explained with a warm smile.

His eyes softened for a second yet he hid it with a sigh and walked off into the darkness, leaving his door open.

You accepted his silent invitation, before entering you hung the lantern up outside his home and walked in.

The darkness and silence were soon removed as everyone slowly made it inside. The children, along with Nahdia all came in with diyas, placing them around his home.

Your mother placed the food on the table, then made her way to open his windows.

Others with sweets and more food placed them on the table as well, joining the others as they all began to share them with everyone.

His eyes witnessed how slowly his house changed, light everywhere, friends and family inside and outside, all chatting and laughing.

You made your way towards him, holding a diya.

"Do you wanna decorate this?"

His eyes shifted onto you, and then asked a simple question.

"Why did you do this?"

You turned to face everyone, who had sparklers, who ate, and who were just enjoying the mood.

"Diwali is the triumph of light over darkness and good over evil. It's celebrated with everyone, I won't allow anyone to be alone in darkness at a time like this."

"Hm." His eyes lingered on the children who decided to create a rangoli in the middle of his living room.

Nahida walked up to him with a sparkler in her hand.

"This represent the light that dispels the darkness of ignorance and evil, and also.." She started, grabbing his hand and walked outside.

Everyone followed behind, all making their way outside.

The sound of fireworks caught the attentions as it lit up the sky.

"These also represent the light." She finished.

Nilou, along with a few younger girls all danced around with their sparklers. Cyno, Tighnari and Collei enjoyed the sight of the fireworks.

"Happy Diwali." You said, turning to face the duo.

"Happy Diwali"

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"Do you still wanna decorate this diya?"

"Yeah sure, whatever.."

MASTERLIST || IMRAESPACE

NOTE: HAPPY DIWALI!! may it be filled with warmth and happiness! just for clarification, im not indian nor am i hindu, last time i did this i got mistaken as one and i felt bad in a way LMAO. i live in a multi-culture country so i kinda grew up with diwali and celebrated it by participating in the activities like decorating diyas n such. its one of my favorite time because its really nice to learn about other's beliefs and how they openly share it with others also the snacks r yummy but thats besides the point. those who celebrates it i hope you enjoy your 5 days of diwali!

oh heres a board of all the pins that inspired me along the way!

[gothamnewsnetwork-official]

Gotham Recap - Discussions on the legal implications of goons continue

Hello and welcome back to Gotham Reports; Gotham Recap (see related articles), where we’re dedicated to keeping you up to date on all the happenings of Gotham City (see related articles).

Our top stories tonight; discussions continue on the legality of goons, an official warning to the citizens of Gotham, and a potential new vigilante on the rise? Stay tuned to find out.

Our first story tonight centers around a resurging issue, and well worn discussion topic in our beloved city; the henchmen profession (see related articles). More specifically, the legal age at which one can become a goon or henchmen (see related articles) as stated by Gotham’s vigilante law (see related articles).

A warning (see related post) by well known Gotham force, Barbara Gordon ( @babsggordon ) (see related articles), has gone relatively viral with the youth of our beloved city and further, reaching as far away as Coast City (see related articles) itself. The post states clearly what is already written into Gotham Law; One cannot work as a goon, henchman, or otherwise while being below the age of 21.

This law, however, has been greatly contended; many arguing that it holds no weight given the lax enforcement of similar laws, such as that regarding child vigilantism (see related article), and the like.

Others simply state that with the rise of crime, both in and out of Gotham City (see related articles), it’s only natural that youth would be getting involved with it in some way; some going so far as to call goons ‘cultural icons’ and many similar terms.

We did reach out to Mayor Christopher Nakano ( @gotham-city-municipal-government ) (see related articles) for a statement, as well as Commissioner Jim Gordon (see related articles) of the GCPD (see related articles), but the resounding response from our beloved city’s officials was a resounding ‘no comment’, a truly concerning response given the recent criticisms (see related articles) against our governing body.

In other news, another vigilante has potentially entered the scene in Gotham City. We’ve received several reports of a masked figure clad in green being spotted at the scene of several attempted muggings in and around Old Gotham (see related articles). Many are theorizing this to be yet another variant vigilante, though this remains to be seen given the unpredictable nature shown of our cities protectors as of late.

Regardless, so far all we have heard from our sources has been good. Gothamites local to the area have even given name to the costumed creature; Spider-Moss ( @the-garden-spider ), as many assume the vigilante to be a variant of the plentiful Spider folk (see related articles) within our city though the true nature of this caped crusaders powers remain unknown.

This does, however, bring light to the ever-rising number of both variants and vigilantes within our beloved city, leading many to wonder where exactly they’re coming from and why they are landing in Gotham specifically. Few other cities, even those steeped in well-known hero culture (see related articles), don’t seem to be experiencing the same phenomena.

Theories on why this phenomenon is occurring range from Gotham being a multiversal waypoint to Gotham sweetheart, Bruce Wayne ( @officialbruciewayne ) (see related articles), bringing them to our universe via portal technology. Though there is no proof of any of these claims, this has, unfortunately, led to an increase of public disapproval and attacks occurring against variants (see related articles) and those perceived to be variants in the past few months.

We would like to restate that we at this journal do not and will never condone such actions, nor any discrimination based on universe-status (see related articles) or otherwise. That being said, we will continue to report any and all updates on these situations as they develop.

Let us know your thoughts on this topic (here)

Gotham Reports is certified in fair, unbiased, and reliable journalism

[palidoozy-art]

Height chart/further designs of the crew (PCs + some NPCs) of our pathfinder campaign in the Eclipse! I wanted to get an actual answer from the other players as to the heights of everyone because I defaulted to drawing Juno short like a disney anthro when actually they're huge.

Kjosev and Tereza look short. They aren't. Kjosev is 5'11"/1.8m, and Tereza is 5'8"/1.73m. Everyone else is just fuckin' huge.

Anyway ramblings about these people below the cut because they've been developed a bit more.

(Note: I'll refer to "the eclipse" a lot here. The Eclipse is a catastrophe in our homebrew world that lasted for roughly a year, where the sun and moon just vanished from the sky entirely. It was effectively an apocalypse, as crops and animals all died off, the world froze over, and societies broke down. This group is trying to live through that).

Characters from left to right, bottom to top:

Calim (Male Elunin Sorcerer, 6'2"/1.88m) - An elunin born blind, Calim was never treated like an adult among his clan due to his disability. He wasn't treated cruelly, but nobody expected anything of him. He left to try to find somewhere he could be treated as an equal, wandering the world before he got caught up in the eclipse.

Tereza (Female Human Commoner/Historian, 5'8"/1.73m) - A 36 year old bog-standard human from the northern kingdom. She worked in a great library as its director, in a happy, well-off life with her husband Florian and her daughter Florette. She was picking up special glasses for her daughter when the eclipse hit, in an entirely separate country from her own. Kjosev took a liking to her and the group has effectively adopted her, trying to take her back to her city to reunite her with her husband.

Florette (Female Human Child/Magical Princess, 3'5"/1.04m) - Tereza's rambunctious 5 year old, who loves trains and boats and thinks magic is boring. She was with her mom in the south when the eclipse hit. She was going to start school next year. She likes Kjosev, carrying around a talisman he gave her that she calls 'Kjosev Jr.'

Kjosev (Male Dusk Elf Druid, 5'11"/1.8m) - Former oracle of his kingdom, political prisoner/torture victim and then forest guardian, Kjosev's... been through some stuff. Outside of that one nasty multi-year incident in which he was imprisoned/tortured in the north (the same city Tereza is from, ironically), he's never left his woods, his life spent mostly isolated. He left to try to warn people about a premonition he had involving 'a great darkness.' He failed. His goal now is to protect Tereza and her daughter, and get them safely to their home -- even if the city left him traumatized.

Vartok (Male Gnoll Monk, 7'/2.13m) - An exiled gnoll, Vartok befriended a gnome at some point in his life. When he lost his arm, the gnome crafted him a new one, giving him a prosthetic. Vartok tries to help his former clan, even if they've rejected him outright, but still seeks a new one... which is how the party came onto him. He's effectively adopted them as his new clan. Florette is terrified of him.

Genrik (Male Dusk Elf Witch, 6'3"/1.91m) - A former teacher at the academy before the dusk elves were effectively destroyed, Genrik is what can best be described as... well, a dusk elf supremacist. He loathes humans and believes one day his people's kingdom will rise again. It won't. It doesn't stop him from repeating it, though. As he's an older dusk elf he suffers a madness that his people are often plagued by, his taking the form of losing all of his memories. He creates potions to store what he can before he forgets everything close to him, including the birth of his own daughter.

(Genrik's player has written down all of his stored memories, and if he ever falls or suffers from a bad critical, he wants there to be a roll to see what memory gets lost permanently as the potion shatters).

Juno (Genderless Elunin Warrior/Knight, 6'4"/1.93m) - Elunin are granted the option to choose their gender in a sort of coming-of-age ceremony, and Juno simply... never chose theirs. Not much else is known about them. They've lived for quite some time in civilized society -- an oddity for creatures that live primarily in the feywild -- working as a member of the Night Watch. They're effectively a rabbit batman cop. They got tied up in the party when the group may or may not have been responsible for setting a slaver's compound on fire.

Imrae (Female Drow Thaumaturge, 5'4"/1.63m) - She hasn't been introduced yet, so there's not AS much information to her, but my DM requested her be drawn anyway. All we know is that she's a drow lady who likes mysteries and is based off of Piper from FO4. I also insisted she get a big hat. Because big hat.

[anarchic-miscellany]

Terrible Screenplay Ideas: King of the Shadows (A.K.A What We Do in the Hill)

Hank Hill and his wife, Peggy, go to an ordinary bar in Tuscon Arizonia. Peggy: "Hank, just pick a place and go in! These sidewalks are too urbanised for my liking." Hank: "It's never been the same since they elected Clinton... This will do nicely! 'Regular Human Bar', huh, and I thought they'd be too gentrified in here." *they enter. A regular, human bartender named Jackie Daytona greets them* Jackie Daytona: "Greetings, patricians and patrons! I am Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender!" *they take a seat* Peggy: "Well I'll be buttered! I told you this place was all fancy-like!" Hank: "I just want a beer, a normal, ordinary beer. Can you do that? Jackie Daytona: "Human beer for ordinary humans, regular tipples? Cer-tee-ainlee!" Hank: "See Peg, this city is full of surprises! I like you sir, you know just what ordinary folks need!" Jackie Daytona: "Perfect!" Peggy: "And this stool has 4 legs! How fancy!" Jackie Daytona: "So what is it you do for commerce, stranger?" Hank: "I seel propane and propane accessories." Jackie Daytona: "Fascinating! What, pray tell, do you do with this?" Hank: "Why, propane is versatile, robust, and effecient at heating your home! And the long term savings are-" Jackie Daytona: "Say no more my good fellow, I shall purchase multitudes!" Hank: "I- well okay!" Peggy: "Hank! You're letting your strive to provide for the family surpass your base propane instincts! This man could use that propane for anything! Take some pride in your work!" Hank: "You're right Peg, what was I thinking?! Sir: what would you be using this much propane FOR?" Jackie Daytona: "... whatever you would use it for, prop-pay-nyeh things." Hank: "You know, it's difficult to meet honest, good working folks, Mr Daytona! You have a deal!" Peggy: "Daytona... is that Spanish...?" Cut to the House: Nadja: "LAZLO! Why are there bottles of shit everywhere?!" Lazlo: "They're called pro-peen! And I bought it from a Texan!" Nadja: "It's blocking my hallway!" Lazlo: "I shall move it for you in but 3 shakes of a whore's nostril, my daaaaaahling! Gimbo! Move this shit!" Colin Robinson: You know, propane was actually invented in..."

[kiwi245]

Of Heart And Sol (an Of Feathers and Flames Short Story) (Pt 1)

This story takes place in the Scorpion Den in “modern day” Pyrrhia. Humans are again the dominant species and the Scorpion Den is a human city known for its dragon trade, dragon fights, and more. Think of the underground dinosaur trade center from Jurassic world.

Main character here is a young man named August Tobias, but he goes by Tobias. The red SolarWing is named Sol

I DID NOT write this story, but it was so good I had to share. I have permission from the writer but they wish to remain anonymous.

I raked my knife through the coarse netting, releasing cold, slimy fish. Contentment ebbed at the SeaWing’s expression as the dragonet licked up the small, delicate meat. His talon was looking much less inflamed. I leaned against the bars of the dragon’s cage with an air of satisfaction. The SeaWing had been a good patient.

A familiar sound echoed through the lot, and I stood quickly, relieved when I spotted the slender human form gently closing the lot door behind herself, silhouetted in the bright light flooding through the threshold.

I stepped out of the SeaWing’s cage, snatching my backpack as Cersei paced towards me with a grim expression, her straight, black hair brushing her shoulders with every step.

“Hey.” I started, catching her weary gaze. “What’s up?”

I propped my bags up alongside the SeaWing’s cage as I closed the steel door, the click of the lock still echoing through the cage lined lot as Cer stopped beside me, following my gaze to the dragonet’s bandaged talon. She hugged me a moment later, which caught me off guard. I gave her a questioning look when she pulled away, sniffing.

“Dad, uh..” she bit her lip, shaking her head. “He says Roe might go to jail. The SDP’s pushing it. Says they’re tired of Dad bailing her out.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Why wasn’t I surprised? I agreed with the SDP completely.

The previous night, in a drunken stupor, Roe, Cersei’s twin, had been searched on her way out of the bar and was found possessing stolen documents from Level 4. Of course they hadn’t specified who the documents had belonged to or exactly where they had come from- just good ‘ol level 4, the place doctors made monsters and scientists defied the laws of nature.

I cleared my throat, trying to feel natural as I said, “Hey, I’ll tell you, jail is no fun.”

Cersei gave me the exact reaction I had been hoping for, her expression questioning. “You’ve been in jail?”

“Once,” I continued, starting down the hall towards my next patient, “in Monopoly.”

She gave a soft, suppressed laugh, following me as she shook her head, “Aug, I’m serious.”

“I know, I know.” I whispered, draping a confident arm across her shoulders, “Cer, I mean, this isn’t the first stunt she’s pulled. Why not let her learn, right?”

“She has learned something,” Cersei insisted, stopping beside me as I unlocked the SandWing’s cage.

“Yeah?” I started, gently reaching towards the SandWing as the beautiful golden creature approached, sniffing my bag with an expectant air. “Like what?”

“She stopped! For-... for a few months.”

“Stopped, or wasn’t caught? This is some serious stuff, Cer. A fifth offense? Anyone else would be long gone.”

Cersei nodded, her expression forlorn as she leaned against the cage bars. I turned towards the girl, staring into her cold, blue eyes. We were only a year apart, and over the past two months, I had grown to know her well. She was attentive, and kind, forever loyal to her family, putting others before herself. I admired those qualities, and we had spent quite a bit of time together outside of work, where I had grown to know her better. Cersei was always looking out for Roe, her headstrong twin, who jumped into everything without thinking twice. Roe annoyed me, not only because of her foolish decisions, but because she was careless and self centered, her eyes blind to the torment she continually put her family of three through.

My gaze jerked towards the lot door as Yair, my employer, entered the room, his long hair slicked back in a bun, white, stainless dress shirt fresh and ironed.

“August?” Yair glanced down the long, maze-like halls of cages, spotting me and Cersei a moment later. He gave a quick wave, and I stepped out of the SandWing cage with a respectful, “Sir,” as the man approached.

Cersei made no move to oblige her Father’s presence, which surprised me- it was rare to see her hold a grudge.

“I’ll finish up here.” Yair continued, his voice echoing through the lot as he stopped beside the young SeaWing dragonet, and I smiled when he gave a content nod, his experienced eyes reviewing my work. “There’s a produce shipment back in the Truck Yard.”

I glanced at Cersei, who entered the SandWing’s cage, kneeling to pull more meat from my backpack for the gold dragon.

The moment I entered the Truck Yard I knew something was wrong. Trucks spanned the wide garage, their trailers still locked tight- not one engine roared. Several men argued off to my right, their voices progressively growing louder.

To my left sat a small, white cage. It must have come from the labs- Level Four. People surrounded the cage, their voices raised as I passed by, my eyes catching the glint of deep red scales within the white lab cage.

I turned away, spotting a familiar truck ahead, Yair’s logo plastered against the trailer. The driver, a short, sturdy man, leaned against the trailer, his arms folded across his chest.

“Hey,” I started, positioning myself beside the Trucker, confused when he made no move to open the trailer, “what’s, uh.. what’s going on?” I motioned towards the shouting men near the exit.

“Yard’s on strike.” The Trucker shrugged.

I glanced from the man, then back to the exit, watching as several Patrol Guards entered the Yard, weapons in hand. Turning back to the Trucker, I didn’t bother to hide my annoyance. “Why.”

The man shrugged again. “Sum’in ‘bout pay.”

I blinked. “Your- your pay?” I confirmed, brows raised. He had to be making a pretty penny, especially if he worked for Yair.

“Aye, not ev’yun ‘as et as good as me, son. Got pals ta stick up far.”

I stole another look at the arguing group as the officers pulled people back, guns raised.

“Look, man,” I started, my gaze wandering toward the lab cage, “I’m just here for.. for, uh, produce..”

I could see more dull, red scales through the white bars as people shifted around the lab cage. Maybe it was a SkyWing.

“Nothin’ doin.” The Trucker said with a happy nod.

I suppressed a scowl. Being that I was in no position to threaten on behalf of Yair, I started back towards the exit, giving the loyal Trucker one last, grim nod before turning my back to him.

The patrol guards wouldn’t let me leave.

They were still trying to make sense of the situation, and one of them shoved me back when I tried to offer my ID. So, with a sigh, I moved back against the lab cage, trying to appear as innocent as possible. It wasn't unheard of to get lost in the chaos and unlawfully arrested.

After a moment I glanced down at the lab cage occupant. A mess of red scales greeted me, and I realized there were two dragons.

A SkyWing and a SolarWing.

The SkyWing was dead, and I felt a pang of pity for the creature beside him, who I had also assumed was deceased, but the slowly shuddering movement of his flank said otherwise. I knelt beside the cage, concern flooding through my mind as my eyes flicked over the SolarWing's starved body.

The dragon was next to death, scales clinging to his wide ribcage. Swollen, blunt wounds marred the creature, scales raised and blackened around the open flesh. I surveyed the wounds with a critical eye, frowning at the clamps cutting into the dragon's wings, a muzzle tied tightly against his snout.

The dragon did not move. He did not react as one of the officers slammed a shouting man against the bars of the cage.

I felt my stomach drop, sickened at the barbaric treatment this creature had endured.

Having been in the den for only a month, I had yet to grow accustomed to seeing dragons in such conditions, and it truly pained me to see anything being treated in such a savage manner.

With a gentle touch, I reached out, running my hand down the SolarWing's broad jaw bone, his scales unnaturally cold. A moment later he released a tense, muffled breath, flinching back every so slightly.

This, in a way, was a good sign. It meant he was still coherent enough- alive enough -to feel what was happening.

I glanced up, the loud dispute being brought to a rather necessary end. A moment later the group of Truckers returned to their regular jobs, and the security guards cleared out, obviously satisfied with what little peace they had managed to keep.

I stood, giving the SolarWing one last glance before I turned to the trio of men leaning against the lab cage, speaking in low, disgruntled tones. One of the men had noticed me, and he pushed off the cage bars, walking slowly to my side, his tall black boots echoing through the Yard with each step.

"What do you need, son?" His voice was coarse, and deep.

I offered my hand, and the man took it, his rough, callused fingers rubbing uncomfortably against my skin as he gave one, strong shake before releasing my hand.

"I'm curious," I began, "what do you plan for these dragons?"

The man gave me a critical expression, a questioning look in his old, pale blue eyes. "Bringing 'em for the scales." He gave a quick smile, the tan, sun wrinkled skin around his lips creasing intensely, and I was relieved to realize this was a kind, good natured man. "Why? You want them?"

At this, thousands of possibilities ran through my mind, my gaze wandering back to the SolarWing.

They were going to kill him.

My heart longed to save the beast, but… he was on death's doorstep, so broken, so far gone.

Again, I reflected on my time spent in the Scorpion Den. Yair had hired me for this sort of thing- saving the lives of his injured dragons as they returned from the arena. I had nursed countless creatures back to health- but never anything this far gone. From what I could see, the dragon had a sturdy, wide build, but his body lacked nutriance, scales clung to his terribly starved frame.

Another shattering breath racked the dragon's body.

"Yes." I whispered, my eyes locked on the dull red dragon. "Yes. I want to buy the SolarWing."

The man gave an abrupt, rough chuckle, "Welcome to have him. Doubt I'll make enough to even pay for his transport with those scales,"

It was true. The SolarWing's scales were dull, broken, and bruised.

The man slammed his boot against the cage, grunting when he received no reaction from the red dragon. "Think you can fix him, son?"

I gave a nervous laugh as the man unlocked the cage door, motioning the two other men to his side.

"Yes, sir. I believe I can."

The man stepped into the cage, then glanced back towards me with a grin. "I like your determination, kid." He winked.

[marblesarelost]

Adventure today

We're going to the World of Entertainment's World Oddities Expo. No idea what we'll see, only that it's supposed to be weird and stuff. They have owl pellet dissections and butterfly pinning seminars for an extra fee (we won't be doing either of those because by the time those come around, I figure we'll be gone or on the way out the door; it'll be a lot for Bee and I figure they'll be tired by then). But there's supposed to be floor shows and burlesque and all sorts of stuff, so here's hoping it's a good time.

I think we're going apple picking tomorrow, at least I hope so. And we'll probably go ahead and get our jack o'lantern pumpkins and maybe our pie pumpkins tomorrow as well. So long as we don't carve the pumpkins they should stay good for a while, right? Because Bonus!Kiddo has to go back to their mom for a week, and I don't want the jack o'lanterns to go bad like they did last year.

Things are ...weird... on the job front. I'm finally listed as a remote online notary via the state website, which is great, and we're working on plans for my certification test, which is great, but I'm just not getting enough work via the company right now. NGL I feel kind of let down. I was led to believe that there was always more than enough work for me to make really good money, and it seems like there's not really. I reached out to someone I know who's working for the same company and another company at the same time, and she says she's still doing transcripts for one of the companies as well to make up the difference. Which I knew that was going to happen, it's actually part of the job description, once I get certified I'm going to start doing my own transcripts for the company, but right now I'm a little ....put out.

I'm reconsidering going to work for the city. It would mean at least a 30-45 minute commute every day, and that would suck, plus never knowing which courtroom or courthouse I was in each day until I got my own judge, but at least it would be a steady paycheck plus benefits. And I wouldn't have to pay my own taxes.

I'll be honest, I don't want to work outside the house. I'd much rather do the work from home thing, but if that's not feasible, I'll do what I have to do.

I told Palaquinn I thought I would wait until Christmas, see how things bump along, and then I'd reconsider my options. I may see about working for two companies like my colleague does; I may see how much difference it makes when I'm doing my own transcripts as well; I may just bump along and take more transcription from other sources as well and see if I can scrape things together that way. Once I'm a CER things may change.

So we'll see what happens next. All I know is that I'm trying to get things together.

But for today, let's go look at weird stuff and try not to spend too much money.

[teacherintransition]

The Teacher in Transition

What has been learned?

From Monday, August 3rd 2020 to Friday February 2nd 2024 there have been 1278 days. That's 3 years, 5 months and 30 days. This is the amount of time that has passed since I retired from thirty years of teaching. A career that started August 20th 1990 and lasted 10941 days …29Years, 11 Months, 14Days. Yes, there is still a significant part of my mindset that feels that I should still be at it; a feeling that abandoned those kids. I suppose that will never go away. I know I did my best and most days I feel I made a difference. I have nothing to prove. I know I more than likely won’t go back, but I ask myself, what was the trade off?

In my initial planning towards retirement, there were specific goals and dreams to be pursued. No planning was taken lightly; attention to detail was carefully paid, structure was established… and very little turned out as planned. Despite dotting “i’s” and crossing “t’s,” we are at a place I would never have imagined. Luckily, it’s been mostly good surprises with few disappointments and the biggest lesson was just to roll with things. Nothing is written in stone. Surprising and infinite variety is a good thing, and learning to not be locked in to one definitive result has been a lesson I wished I’d learned earlier in life. Ah well, wisdom is where and when you find it.

What have I learned during this change in life’s direction? If you are being adventurous in any way, expect that most of your contemporaries are not. Trust me, you’re going against the grain, most our age are settling into routine and making their worlds smaller. If you have friends of a like mind, chances are you’ll never see them as you and your fellow adventurers are always out of pocket …away … traveling… experiencing life. Those most like you in pursuing a life of adventure will only, usually, communicate via text or social media. It’s sad to a degree, but it is who we are and what you feel if you are avoiding the rocking chair. Most of my other friends who are still in the workforce are a welcome sight when we return to Nac. They are always asking about our lives and are happy for you. This is a good thing; to be welcomed home …and it is home, even though Kim and I spend most of our days on the road each year.

Another thing I’ve learned is that post career can be very lonely. I say this thankful that my best buddy, Kim …my spouse for almost 37 years, is my road companion, but missing the home friends is a real deal. This I didn’t fully expect…I’m not good at doing the alone thing. Life is balance, sometimes, and karma gave me a good experience to keep things balanced. At the various, towns, villages, cities, coffee shops, bars, hikes, walks, sightseeings etc. etc. I’ve made friends all over the country and the world. This has been a wonderful discovery that I didn’t plan. We’ve made friends with folks in Scotland, Ireland, Italy, Chicago, Alexandria La., Austin, Granbury, Missouri, Kentucky, Kansas, Oklahoma, Minnesota and more! Friends we would never have met if we stayed in Nacogdoches! Jorge, Melissa, Jim, Vangie, Jeanette, Sarah, Luigi, Margaret, Dustin, Samantha, Caitlyn, Happy, Jennifer, Dana, Scotty, Big Mooch, J, William …and on and on. This was and is fortunate happenstance. The loneliness is a bitch, but I’m grateful for new friends in new places.

A final fortunate development has been the growing bond with my sons and their families. I hoped for this, but its happening has been unlike what was expected. It’s an incredible feeling … a sense of family perpetuity that is wonderful. I can see and feel that our family and its impact will see a bright future. The balance reestablished … the bleak mindset of middle age assuaged by a sense of our lineage going forward is incredibly exciting. I see my sons and grandchildren carrying Kim and I into the future, an unexpected pleasure. Without question, unpleasant things have occurred and more will in the future of that I’m certain. As this transition goes forth, I’m in possession of a faith that my family and friends will carry on and negate some of the bad that is expected. Freeing yourself the drudgery of the chains of working and bill paying has allowed me to see possibilities undreamed of as a young man. I’m not being blind, everything is precarious and life can turn in an instant: financial struggles, illness, death can all overturn the cart, but wasn’t it always the case? Everyday is a choice and is also devoid of control. Go with the flow and don’t settle for sameness. This is the biggest lesson I’ve learned. Movement is life …and it ain’t half bad.

[aliettali]

OH MY GOD SU’CUY OATCHI HI HELLO I LOVE YOU AAAAAHHH. AAAAAAAAAAAAA. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

what a creature

[lesfeldickbiblestudy]

What does the Bible say concerning marriage? [convertplayer id="nQ3f4uJJS" width="700" height="525"] I Corinthians 7:1 "Now concerning the things whereof ye wrote unto me: It is good for a man not to touch a woman." So the question must have been, "Is it right for men and women to marry?" And you might ask the question, "How in the world could they come up with a question like that?" Well you must again realize the situation. You know I've always taught from day one that when you read a portion of scripture the first thing you determine is who wrote it, and to whom was it written, and the third part is, what are the circumstances. Well here we have Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles, writing to the congregation in the wicked city of Corinth who have come out of abject immoral, idolatrous background, and they are all hung up on this marriage relationship that now is Biblical compared to what it is in paganism. Now you want to remember that in paganism under idolatry, the marriage relationship didn't amount to that much. It was really just a place to propagate the family, but so far as any moral integrity, or fidelity of the marriage relationship, the pagans knew nothing of that. And so now they are going off the deep end. "Is it right for us to marry?" Now don't misinterpret the last half of verse 1 when Paul says that it is good for a man not to touch a woman. He's not saying that they shouldn't get involved and get married. But he is saying in the light of these verses in Chapter 6 that as believers now men as well as women, have to be careful in their contact with people of the opposite sex in their everyday experience. And when Paul says, "That it's good for a man not to touch a woman," and if I under stand the Greek at all, what he's talking about is that a man should not get physically involved with a woman to excite the sexual sense. He is certainly not bringing in the shaking of the hands with women. Even in the early Church they granted the "Holy Kiss" where they would embrace much like our middle easterners still do, and that also caused problems in the early Church, and so that was finally pushed out the back door. So Paul is answering their questions, "It is not good for a man to touch a woman, not to embrace her, or get involved with her enough to excite the basic instinct of her or him." But he is not saying that they can't get married. And I know that a lot of people take this verse to mean that Paul is anti-marriage. No, he is not anti-marriage. In fact before we go any further let me show you some verses to back that up. Let's go to the Book of Hebrews for a moment. We've already seen what God said back there in Genesis concerning the marriage relationship, and that they were to replenish the earth, they were to have children, and they were to enjoy the marriage relationship. Now look what Paul writes in the Book of Hebrews, Chapter 13, and verse 4. And he's not going to utterly contradict this with his statement in I Corinthians Chapter 7, so you have to put the two of them together. Hebrews 13:4a "Marriage (As we understand it) is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled:..." Now you know we've come mercifully away from Victorianism, which was the extreme in the other direction. Sex in Victorianism, was such a dirty word that it couldn't be mentioned in public, and it was almost taboo except for the purpose of child bearing. Well that certainly wasn't right, but now on the other hand we've gone too far the other way. Now completing verse 4 we find the other side of the coin opposite marriage being honourable, and the bed undefiled. Hebrews 13:4b "... but whoremongers and adulterers God will judge." God is not going to wink at that. They're not going to get away with it, and they're going to face up with it some day. The Great White Throne Judgment is waiting for the lost, and they're going to come up before God with all this on their record. Now if you will come back again to I Corint

hians Chapter 7 again. I Corinthians 7:2 "Nevertheless, to avoid fornication, (or falling into the trap of immoral activity) let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband." Now we have to be careful. Is the sole reason for getting married, not to be tempted to go out and be promiscuous? Well of course not, but it does have that redeeming effect, that if I have my wife, and she has me, then we're not tempted then to go out into the world, and be promiscuous with those we have no business being with. And so this is what Paul is saying. Also I've got to bring you back to that situation at Corinth with all their rampant prostitution, and for a young man it was a constant temptation. So Paul says, "rather than being tempted with that, have your own wife." Now verse 3: I Corinthians 7:3 "Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: (we're living in a day where you see so much wife beating, and wife abuse. Well why is that? Well again it's because these people have not been taught plain, simple Biblical principals. And that is that a husband is to treat his wife as something that he would die for, and not as something that he can beat around the house. That was not God's intention of the marriage relationship.) and likewise also the wife unto the husband." I had a letter recently asking why God condoned slavery? Why did He ever permit it to happen? Well, when you analyze the greatest period of time of human history, what percentage of the people were actually educated enough to carry on and be an entrepreneur, or be a good enough business person to make a good living. Not very many. The vast majority was totally illiterate, were totally incapable of decision making, and we saw that in Russia, after 70 years of communism. So under those kinds of circumstances a benevolent master was the best thing those people could have. I think that most of you are aware that when slavery was holding forth in the South, there were masters like that. And those slaves loved them, didn't they? They had it better than they could have ever hoped to have it out there on their own. But you see man has totally again adulterated God's purposes, and instead of masters being benevolent they became bestial, and less than merciful, and then slavery became awful, and God never intended it to be that way. Well it's the same way here. The husband and wife relationship, if it's as God intended to be, should be a happy situation 365 days a year. There is absolutely no reason for husband and wives to be on a constant battle ground. I can say from experience, Iris and I have been married for 43 years and I think our kids will tell you that they have never heard us raise our voice at one another. It's not because we're so perfect, but rather because we know that The Lord is in control of our home. And this is way He wants it. [convertplayer id="ql1rOMefC" width="700" height="525"] God has created man, as we saw last week, as the crowning act of His creation. Man is the epitome of His perfection. We are created in His image and given a will in order to be able to make choices of obedience or disobedience to God. The whole concept of this thing compares to the very attitude of marriage in the human relationship. God has always had myriads of angels, but they were never created to have this special kind of love and fellowship relationship with God as mankind was. But in Adam, God deliberately created a will, and had Adam chosen to be obedient to God, He would have had someone with whom He could share this special love and fellowship throughout eternity. As I see Scriptures, this is the primary reason for man's creation in the first place - that God wants a creature that He can love and who will return that love to Him. In a moment we're going to turn to Ephesians 5:22. I want to use this verse for a two-fold purpose: 1. To help our attitude concerning marriage and the home and the husband-wife relationship, and 2. To est

ablish that this is the reason man was put here in the first place; because the relationship is so much the same. I am of the conviction that if a home survives or doesn't survive, I blame the man. I know that there may be alternatives to that, but for the most part, I believe that the success or failure of a home and marriage is primarily the man's responsibility. Ephesians 5:22-25: "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and He is the Saviour of the body. Therefore, as the Church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave Himself for it;" The passage starts "Wives, submit ... unto your own husbands," and it means not that the wife is meant to be a slave or a "go-fer," but rather that God has ordained the man to be the head of the home. The husband is not to be a taskmaster nor slave master, but rather he has been given the place of authority in the home. The very key to this verse is "as unto the Lord." Verse 23 says: "For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and He is the Savior of the body." Notice He is the Savior not only of the soul (as so many churches teach), but also of the body. Don't miss that God is just as concerned with the body as with the soul; He is vitally concerned with our entire being - spirit, soul and body. Verse 24: "Therefore, as the Church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything." So when we tie the husband-wife relationship to that of Christ and the Church, as this verse says we should, we find that there's no room for abuse in either the authority of the husband or in the submission of the wife. Everything is just so perfectly ordained if we will do it God's way! Verse 25 is the one I use for putting the responsibility for a successful marriage on the husbands. "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave Himself for it;" This is a COMMANDMENT! And interestingly, nowhere in the Scripture is the wife commended to love her husband. I know that Peter says mothers are to instruct their daughters in how to love their husbands, but that's a far cry from commanding it (in the husband-wife relationship). The reason that I tie this Scripture in with Genesis 1 is that God put man on the scene with a will so that when God would extend His love and grace and blessings on this creature, God expected love returned. It's the same way in the marriage relationship, and I still maintain that (with rare exceptions) if the husband will truly love his wife Scripturally as Christ loves us, the Church, then it automatically follows that the wife is going to respond to that love. If a woman doesn't, then there's something wrong with her because God has created within her that responsiveness, so that when the man extends his love, she's going to respond, and you have a happy relationship.  

[lochrannn]

Re. the kisses prompts, I was secretly angling for that, lol! #13: frustrated kisses

Apologies this took so long to fill.

Filed for posterity in my underused drabble collection on AO3

-

After sending Diego off to join his brothers for Luther’s bachelor party, Lila goes to roam the halls of the Obsidian Hotel, investigating all the most interesting rooms, hoping to find some snazzy outfits for the wedding.

She finds a bunch of different suits, including one she’s considering for herself but when she stumbles across a black glittering minidress, her choice is made, but she takes the green velvet pantsuit anyway. Klaus might like it.

She’s still none the wiser as to what to suggest to Diego. He looked amazing in Elliott’s dad’s suit at the Mexican consulate back in Dallas, but he had complained about having to wear it all the way there.

When Diego, Klaus, and Five arrive back in their room after what seems like the most condensed bachelor party of all time, because they are certainly in appropriately high spirits, both in terms of mood and inebriation level after just an hour and a half of awful karaoke, they all stop in their tracks, staring at her in her outfit, Klaus delightedly clapping his hands, Diego slack jawed and wide eyed, and even Five raises an eyebrow that could be construed as appreciative.

Lila ignores Diego’s intense gaze for the moment, because her heart still feels a bit fluttery at the thought of the wooden beads around her wrist and the commitment that came with them, in favour of dealing with the first order of business. They have a wedding to get to in twenty minutes, after all.

“Klaus, I got you something you might like to wear later,” she explains, pointing to the velvet suit with its emerald shine that she laid out tidily across the back of the sofa. It feels weirdly important to her that he likes it.

“Oh Lila, darling, you are a lifesaver! All I found so far is this boring dragon-print shirt—Hey Diego, do you want my boring dragon-print shirt? Diego?”

But Diego isn’t listening to Klaus, and Lila is slowly tuning him out as well, distracted by the way Diego is slowly making his way over to her, coming to a stop just inches away and giving her a very heated once over.

“You look—”

He doesn’t finish his thought, instead his mouth snaps shut in the way Lila is learning he does when his words fail him because he’s too overwhelmed. Inexplicably, it makes goosebumps rise along her spine. But he’s being a bit silly, she’s worn shorter skirts around him.

Diego reaches out a tentative hand to tuck a strand of hair that must have come loose from her hair band behind her ear and Lila can’t help staring up at him, caught in the reverence he’s appraising her with.

Then Diego leans in and Lila just about remembers how long it took her to get her make-up right and the tight dress on and she knows exactly where this will lead if Diego gets his lips on her, so she slaps her outstretched fingers against his mouth when his face is only inches away from hers and watches his eyes fly open again, accompanied by a muffle mph.

“No time! Get changed and we all need to head down to the banquet hall,” she says and breezes past Diego, partly to get out of his reach but also because any second longer with the feeling of his lips against her fingers and she would have grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to an unoccupied room herself.

-

It’s ridiculous how giddy she feels, standing at the top of the gathering, bouquet in hand, and by virtue of being the only bride’s maid, she guesses, also fulfilling the role of maid of honour.

This is the most normal thing Lila has ever done—the city block size dimension sucking fiery cluster of balck holes that is illuminating the hotel terrace notwithstanding.

Diego practically shoved his way to the front when they were all finding their seats, and Lila had to push him down into his chair, because he’d almost looked like he was just going to stand with his arm around her waist for the whole ceremony. He keeps looking over at her with such fondness that Lila is finding it hard to follow Klaus’s impromptu officiating. At one point she just barely stops herself from shooing Diego, the heat in her cheeks making her feel almost ridiculous.

-

They watch Sloane and Luther for a few minutes as they slowly glide across the dance floor for their first dance and Lila has never felt this safe. 

Tucked in under Diego’s arm she can smell his after-shave and feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his shirt. She’s glad he didn’t wear a suit, not least because it’s just not him.

She shakes her head a little to clear it of the mental image of her fingers hurriedly undoing the buttons on his shirt so she can slide her hands over the smooth skin of his chest and sides.

Diego gives her a funny little look then steps away from her and offers her his hand for a dance.

Lila puts her hand in his and is ready for him to twirl her around but in the last instance Diego pivots and twirls under her arm and Lila can’t help the broad grin that tugs at her lips.

He’s so ridiculous.

She loves him more than words can say.

They dance like that for a while, sometimes pressed together and sometimes showing off their best moves to each other. Then Diego leans in and asks her softly, “D’you want something to drink?”

“Mmh, yeah, some water would probably be good,” Lila says and before she can make a move Diego pecks her on the mouth and pulls away to head towards the buffet.

It was just a very short kiss, barely even really deserves the name and yet it flips a switch in Lila’s brain and she’s suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she’s not kissed him since before the bachelor party. 

That just won’t do.

Lila turns on her pointy heel and stalks off to follow Diego to the other end of the room.

She catches up to him just as he passes one of the pillars that are scattered around the hall, and she gets in front of him with an almost desperate skip, shoves him back against the pillar with her hands on his chest, leans up and presses her lips hard against his.

Diego makes a startled noise, but his hands land on her waist and his tongue snakes past her lips into her mouth. It makes her groan and her knees go a bit weak.

She drops back down onto her heels, breaking the connection between them to catch a breath, but Diego just follows her lips with his, his arms tightening around her waist and back, pulling her against him again. 

Lila thinks philosophically that breathing is overrated, especially if they are all going to combust together with the hotel in some 48 hours, so she leans against Diego who stoops down a bit, leaning against the pillar behind him, so that they are almost level and she doesn’t have to crane her neck.

For a second the way his knee is now pushed up between her legs makes Lila even more desperate to get as close to him as possible and she throws her arms around Diego’s neck and shoves his head back against the pillar with the force of her kiss and just holds him there. The thought of this undeniably big and fit, combat trained man relenting instantly to her makes Lila feel almost dizzy.

She breathes in loudly through her nose, suddenly overwhelmed, emotions making her feel even more breathless and she can’t stop herself from pushing herself harder against him, head to toe.

Diego’s hands are on her arse and he pulls her in even more and Lila is aware of the fact that her skirt must have ridden up her legs quite a bit by now but she couldn’t give a fuck as she tilts her head to get better access to lick along his bottom lips. She presses her fingers into the back of Diego’s neck and the noise he makes is very low but sounds suspiciously like a desperate whimper and—

“Ew, gross!”

They break away from their kiss but don’t move at all beyond that except to turn and glare at Five. At least Lila is glaring, she’s relatively certain Diego is doing at least the same, though he might be looking straight up murderous.

“Luther wants everyone to be around for the cake cutting. Why we’re doing that now, I don’t know, but if you two sex-ed-cautionary-tales could get your brains out of each other’s pants and come be civilized for two minutes, it would be much appreciated. I need to eat something before I start going into an early hangover.”

As quickly as he turned up, he’s gone, and Lila realises he probably blinked over. Serves him right if he ended up seeing more than he signed up for.

She gives Diego one last hard kiss and then steps back taking his hand. He looks a little disappointed that they didn’t take this further and it almost makes her laugh.

“Come on, I’m starving!” she says with a tug on his hands. “Don’t forget your brat is stealing all my food!”

The way Diego’s eyes go so glassy and fond again in only an instant makes Lila’s heart pound in her throat and she shoves down the thought that it wouldn’t make much of a difference either way. Neither of them is going to actually meet their child.

She swallows hard and turns away so Diego won’t see the unshed tears that suddenly threaten to spill over—god damn fucking hormones—and starts pulling him towards the rest of his family.

If nothing else, she can at least stuff her face and enjoy the company for the next day and a half.

[interact-if]

Hi, everyone! We're kicking things off for the A/PI Heritage Month celebration with interviews from the featured authors!

The interviews will consist of the authors' experience with writing their projects as an A/PI, insights to their project, their experience with the IF Community, and general advice for other authors!

So without further ado... Cer!

Cer, author of Snakeroot

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

There is something wrong beyond the trees. A curse infects these lands. They call it the Rot, a curse that distorts the lands and creatures around it. For years, its tide has been stemmed by magical barriers, dutifully enforced by hunters. For years, the strategy has worked… until now. Today is not your lucky day.

The barrier has cracked. Something slithers through.

Why now?

Why you?

Demo is currently going through processing from CScript to Twine!

Author's Ko-fi | Discord

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

Snakeroot is a very self-indulgent story about monsters, haunted forests, and surviving when the odds are stacked against you. In other words, it's basically a D&D storyline I packed into a modern(ish) fantasy IF format so I'd have even more of an excuse to draw and write about some OCs.

If we're talking actual plot, though, you basically play as a monster-hunter with missing memories & mysterious powers, fighting against the effects of a magical curse that distorts land and creatures alike. You start the game with an assignment that takes you to the edge of a Barrier, which keeps most of the curse under control, except oops! There's a part of the barrier that's broken! Lucky you've got a whole team there with you, but guess you'll have to deal with that, huh?

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

Ooh, it's tough to choose! There's a few interesting confrontations maybe towards (?) the centre of the plot that'll be fun to see played out, something along the lines of the protagonist uncovering some things about themselves, their memories, and their companions. I'm also definitely looking forward to seeing the routes that people will take through these, since it — at some points — will probably become somewhat of a balancing act. Haunted forests and magical curses are certainly a fun type of setting to work with!

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

It's basically a D&D campaign idea that I've had for a while, adapted and morphed into a shorter (ideally) and more compact (hopefully) format for IF. That being said, some part of me starting out was deeply committed to the idea of having it in a modern-esque setting, likely due to playing in a friend's Monster of the Week campaign at the time, so I've ended up at a weird in-between original setting that jumps all over the place sometimes. I think I've mentioned before that I binged a good deal of Final Fantasy playthroughs as I started as well, so I reckon that aesthetics-wise with technology, that's definitely come through with the sort of fun rule-of-cool vibe they have going on. It's all vibes, babey!

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

I don't think there's much of an explicit link to my identity in Snakeroot as much as I've seen other games directly address theirs, but that being said, I wouldn't be surprised if someone pointed out some implicit ways in which it bleeds through.

If I think about it in terms of the setting, I think to some point, the land in which Snakeroot takes place is somewhat shaped by where I grew up — Singapore — in which there were often surprisingly dense pockets of forest bordering the school, the back of the house, or places I frequented with friends, considering how built-up the city itself actually is. I have a habit of walking the dog late at night, so every so often I'd be struck with that ominous feeling of being watched as I walk along a particularly dark treeline, and maybe that stuck with me!

Where I live now has far less of that sort of forest / jungle-y vibe, which makes me kind of miss it, so maybe the real friends we made along the way were the definitely-not-normal owls blinking back at you when you past the treeline for too long.

Identity-wise, I'm not sure I've drawn much in terms of like, a direct connection to Singapore in addressing the dynamics of the country itself, but I do like to see representation in the stories I tell, so for instance, the Luo siblings are Chinese (or Chinese-coded, considering the original setting), one of which is canonically trans.

That being said, these aren't portrayed as a huge story element in the sense that their stories are about being Chinese or being trans, in Mallory's case — that's not what Snakeroot is about — but these are parts of their identity that make them part of who they are. It's just nice to see yourself represented in some way in any story, really, even if I think it's personally unfair that I don't have cool horns or a sword or magic glowy eyes.

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...

Honestly, it's been really positive! The IF community has been amazingly welcoming, and I doubt I would've gotten half as far without any of the sense of support and community both fellow authors and readers have created. Writing is always shaky thanks to the good ol' writer insecurity and the occasional curse of imposters syndrome that haunts me every odd weekend or so when I can sit down and work on Snakeroot between schoolwork, but the support definitely helps!

Q6: Do you have any future projects in the works?

I've been playing around with a sci-fi type game about an android-clone protagonist who has to solve the mystery of their original's murder, with a more linear story and just one main companion — something about coded loyalty and the demands made of yourself and being a not-quite-ghost. I definitely do want to revisit it the moment I have more time!

Q7: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

Find some writer buddies! Or reader buddies, whatever works. Everything's better with friends, and the support and solidarity is honestly invaluable.

[drrutherford]

 amescastaignede​:

This was normal, she reminded herself, to be around people and have a good time. She wasn’t sure the last time she’d subjected herself to anything of the sort. Not in this kind of way. Driving what felt like a million miles away from home. And while Gideon was a man she’d come to enjoy the company of, she still couldn’t fully shake the feeling that this wasn’t a developing friendship but pity. He’d promised her it wasn’t, even driven her all this way and laughed.

Actually laughed in her presence, not at her, but with her. 

Amélie had always hoped there would come a time when the world wasn’t such a scary place, that she wouldn’t feel the constant desire to be different. And although she’d accepted and come to love the silence she was so adversely used too, there were times like now that she prayed she could be sociable and unhating of the things she’d tried so hard to change about herself. Gulping thickly she decides, even if only for a moment, she’d try harder. 

Be different.

Fashioning her lips into a half-smile, turns her gaze to him and looks. A handsome man, that was undeniable, and while she struggled to read emotions and feelings upon his features, she takes a moment to take it in. Deep mahogany hair, unruly but tamed all at the same time with no speckled greys, a commodity to most men these days while laugh lines didn’t show age but a good life. Or at least, that’s what she’d hoped for him. She didn’t know much, only that he was kind. 

Had he known pain like her?

She doesn’t answer him when he talks about her in Finland, realising maybe she was far more readable than he was. He seemed to know her, or at least the parts she’d let be the forefront of her personality in their time spent together. He paid attention, and most didn’t. 

His answer, though, has her smiling.

‘‘You continue to surprise me in all sorts of mundane, yet, remarkable ways. ‘‘ It came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. ‘‘I…I meant that in a…you’re kind and…the places you want to travel — they’re unique, and kinda’ cool, I guess ’‘ She stopped, looking back to the blur of the passing trees heading into Birmingham. She could see the city now, forming into rows of houses and busy streets.

How was she looking forward to her day? ‘’It’ll be…interesting.’’ 

And while he offers to rescue her if required, she knows she’d never call even if she needed too. She was never one for wanting to bother, especially when he had something as important as a conference, so she fakes the next smile. 

‘‘I’m sure I’ll be quite alright.’‘ 

Yet, even she didn’t believe her own words. Far from it. 

Later that day ; Birmingham City Centre. 

For what it was worth, it hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as she’d imagined. In fact, Amélie had found the best part of Birmingham, a place known as Digbeth. It was a beautiful bohemian district that was home to bars, restaurants and second hand store that stocked some one the cutest and most unique things she’d come across in some time. Although completely different it made her think of Camden and Soho. The place was littered with more drinking dens, her phone full of creative snapshots she’d taken.

She hadn’t even realised she walked to the agreed spot with a smile plastered on her lips, because for once she’d ventured out and maybe achieved something more than she’d ever imagined for herself. Pushing herself onto new horizons, and the best part was she’d done it all alone. Albeit, with the help of Gideon but right now, she’d revel in the achievement for herself. 

However, arriving to the spot she stood there for a moment, a nervous glance down at the time. What if he forgot about her, she thought to herself, brows furrowing for a moment. Looking up though, she was happily surprised to see him walking down.

‘‘Gideon!’‘ She called, waving at him. ‘‘Over here.’‘ 

.

The conference goes... Well, as all conferences tend to go.

Informative, passively interesting – until speakers begin droning on too long and certain guests begin taking a more than academic interest in him – at which point the Rutherford is happy to call it a day. By then, it’s already six in the evening, and by the time he returns to Birmingham, with traffic being what it is, it’s nearly seven.

He hopes Amélie’s starving.

As he parks his car and jumps out, waiting for her to respond to his text, Gideon replays something she told him on the drive up, just before he’d dropped her off. 

‘You continue to surprise me in all sorts of mundane, yet, remarkable ways... I meant that in a…You’re kind and…the places you want to travel...’

It’s an awfully nice thing to hear, but there’s more to it than that. Perhaps it’s that he doesn’t think he’s ever had the luxury of surprising anyone. Most people he meets already seem to have a preconceived notion of who he is, or what sort of man he’ll be. It’s nice that Amélie doesn’t, and that he’s able to surprise her at all. Ayda’s words come floating back to him, about how refreshing it is to be the author of one’s own acquaintance with another person, without the burden of expectations...

The thought’s a pleasing one, so by the time he hears his name in the distinct accent of her voice, Gideon finds he’s already smiling. “You’re alive!” He gasps, unable to resist teasing her a little bit, given her initial prejudice against coming up north.

“ — I was so worried...” He wasn’t. Not by a long-shot.

“Did you have a good time?” Gideon asks, with a lot more sincerity as she falls into step with him along the pavement. “Tell me about your day. And of far secondary importance, are you hungry? Because I think I’ve got just the place in mind...”

[staticspaces]

747 Flea Market

Here is the link to part I of the new video!!

https://youtu.be/sgcqZxNWozw

On Tuesday April 20, 2021, the owner of 747 Flea Market James Hawley announced the impending closure (to his vendors) of the space that had been in continuous operation for over 30 years!  The Rathcliffe Group who owns the building and land was forced to evict the owner and its vendors after they were either paying partial or no rent at all (during lockdowns) for over a year.  Hawley said that neither the market or it's vendors were able to qualify for the Canada Emergency Rent Subsidy (CERS) which was a government program to help businesses pay their rent if they had seen a drop in revenue during "the situation".  “Our tenants don’t qualify because they do not have written leases”  and they pay on a month-to-month basis, Hawley said.  Hawley also criticized the program for not having an appeal process when a business was denied inclusion.  A lot of vendors showed up to the building shortly after the announcement was made but were told they would not be allowed to enter until the entirety of that month's rent was paid.  After the April 20th announcement, the vendors only received until the end of the month to pay their rent and collect their belongings.  Apparently, according to comments, the buildings were in  rough condition, with leaking rooves, general uncleanliness as well as lacking proper maintenance, these conditions were evident during my visit.

The building has since been demolished during the months of June/July but no formal plan has yet been submitted to the city as to what will go in its place.  The owners have mentioned that they would like to build a warehouse which is less prone to income rental loss due to closures.  There are rumours that Amazon may be interested in the property for use as another fulfillment centre, or another company may move in and use the site as a storage warehouse.

I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to this abandoned flea market and to be quite honest, I haven't had this much fun exploring a location in quite a while.  With so much merchandise left behind by various vendors there was so much to see!

I hope you enjoy part I of this video as much as I did filming it and stay tuned for part II!!

[lesbia-with-her-sparrow]

Weblena week day 7: we are unstoppable!

We are far too young and clever

Summary: Eighteen year old Webby and Lena navigate Duckburg’s shoddy legal system, college, and their newly formed relationship with the help of Della and Penny.

Prior to meeting Lena, Webby had not found herself embroiled in many legal battles.

Which is fine, really, because now her life is like a fun legal drama with romance, despair, and the ever impending threat of losing a lot of money on something that turns out to do very little. Duckburg, despite having many robotic, undead, and alien citizens, has not been built to accommodate shadow beings.

With Boyd, it was apparently quite the emotional affair, but once a judge had been properly convinced that Boyd was a definitely real boy, he was able to give out the necessary documentation fairly easily. His birthday was listed as the day he was built, and since his AI was programmed to mature at the same rate as a normal child, he would be fine to go to school and take his drivers test and do all usual kid stuff if he wanted to. For all intents and purposes, he would be considered the son of single parent Gyro Gearloose, who would be responsible for his wellbeing.

With Duckworth, it was even easier. He simply provided proof of his continued existence, had his death certificate revised, and went about his life as usual. He didn’t require healthcare, insurance, or food stamps so there wasn’t much systemically that really had to change. He still had to pay income taxes, but that was about it.

The Moonlanders already had their own governmental bodies, so they worked with the city of Duckburg to integrate their systems. They already had their own versions of birth certificates, personal ID cards and numbers. Penumbra worked hard to ensure the ease of these things for her people, even when she still kind of hated earth (but maybe kind of really liked one person on it); she just couldn’t help it.

But well, it’s hard to get Lena any kind of documentation to be legally recognized as a person. Luckily, they’ve got the richest duck in the world on their side—which certainly makes some bureaucratic headaches go away—Louie, who can talk his way through the system, and Della as moral support, who’s going through a similar nightmare returning to earth after having been declared legally dead, which is somehow thirty times more difficult to deal with than rising from the dead like Duckworth.

The thing is, technically, Lena shouldn’t even exist. Shadow creatures are supposed to be mindless conjugations, less like people and more like machines (the non Boyd sort, of course, that follow directions without any thoughts or feelings of their own). Even Magica never knew how she gained sentience, and when a curious lawyer asked Lena, she simply replied “do you know how you gained sentience?”

He never stopped staring at the wall, so they had to get a new lawyer after that.

It’s funny how starting a life together is somehow harder than any other adventure they’ve ever been on. Lena just wants to go to college, and Webby just wants to share a dorm with her (and a lot of kisses). But first, she has to be able to prove she’s a person, which is a lot harder than it looks.

They spend a lot of late nights with Penny and Della hunched over forms and the dwindling lights of laptop computers.

Webby looks up from a website that keeps redirecting her to a page with a link to the page that redirects her back and sighs. She’s solved multiple labyrinths before, but this one’s got her pretty stumped. At the other side of the table, Penny leans over to watch whatever Della’s doing, a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“Ah-ha!” Della bursts, hitting the enter button with a loud click. “Nothing can stop Della Duck!”

“Did you get them to fix it?” Lena asks, lifting her head from the pile of papers it had been resting on. Her voice isn’t its usual sort of sarcastic deadpan; it’s more vulnerable, filled with just the trace of hope.

“No, but I got them to send me my death certificate which, according to the social security website, is the first step in fixing it,” Della says. “We should celebrate! Do you girls like cake? Let’s make a cake.”

It’s nearly three in the morning, but they need to take a break at some point, and if cake doesn’t ease the pain, it at least can’t hurt.

While Della and Penny get themselves covered in various powders, Lena sits on the counter by the fridge, and Webby mixes together milk, eggs, vegetable oil, and vanilla. She adds a couple drops of pink food dye just for fun.

“Do you think we’ll ever even get this?” Lena asks. She’s looking somewhere behind Webby, just over her shoulder.

“Sure we will,” Webby replies with her trademark optimism. “We create literal magic when we hold hands, what could possibly stop us?”

“Nothing can stop Lena Sabrewing, huh?”

Webby sets the whisk on the counter as she turns around. Della and Penny are standing very close to each other, almost kissing but not quite, just looking at each other with complete love and confidence in their eyes. It’s easier for them, Webby thinks, they’re not just confident in each other, they’re confident in themselves in a way neither of the younger girls are. Maybe it’s being older, maybe it’s having lived enough life to know that the worst storms have passed you by and the tides that ebb and flow can never recede back and become the tsunami they’ve faced before.

Webby knows it’s silly, but there’s a little part of her that wonders if cutting off your leg makes the fear of losing your heart a little easier to handle. Another part of her wonders if Della’s just better at hiding her emotions.

While the cake’s in the oven, Webby asks Della to speak with her privately outside. They sit on the back porch, legs extended out on the concrete, cool beneath them despite the warm, humid air outside. It’s dark, but they’re backlit by the windows behind them, their faces visible by Selene’s moon and all the stars in the sky.

“Can I get some advice?” Webby asks, breaking the pleasant silence that had built up between them.

“I’ve messed up a lot,” Della admits, “but maybe that means I’ll give better advice. What do ya need, kid?”

“What do you do if you’re afraid to mess your relationship up?”

There’s a few beats of silence.

“What’s going on with you and Lena?”

Webby scratches her neck awkwardly. “Nothing, I guess, it’s just—I keep saying we’re strong enough to handle anything, but what if we can’t? What if none of this works and Lena decides to break up with me?”

Della pulls Webby in closer, lets her lean against her in a maternal way, the sort of way that makes Webby ache for her younger self, for the family she had yet to gain. “Honey, I don’t think she’ll do that. Do you?”

Webby shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not. It’s just—when I lost Lena the first time, I was so heartbroken over it. And now that we’re dating, everything just feels so right, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

“You know, they always tell kids that as long as two people love each other, they can do absolutely anything, but that’s not true. I loved the boys’ dad with my entire heart, and it completely tore me apart, but that’s how it is sometimes.” She pauses a moment, contemplative.

Despite her extensive research, Webby doesn’t know anything about the triplets’ dad. She asked Dewey about it once, but all he said was that it was a mystery he didn’t care to solve. It was an unspoken thing, never mentioned again by any of the family. Webby wonders if only Della even knows who he is.

Della looks up at the stars, then speaks again. “A relationship takes a lot of work, but I know a couple of young ladies who are far too stubborn to let a little situation like this tear them apart.”

“You and Penny?” Webby asks, a teasing smile on her face.

Della laughs. “Us too.”

There’s something endlessly comforting about being around Della. Webby loves her granny, but she doesn’t give the same kind of easygoing support that Della does. Granny pushes her to be better, but Della reminds her that she’s already great. And sometimes she really needs that.

There’s still half an hour left on the cake when they go back inside. Lena and Penny are sitting on the counter, laughing about weird human quirks together while drinking cans of Pep. It’s a good thing that Lena has someone to connect with, Webby thinks, even if she doesn’t know any other sentient shadow creatures.

Lena hops off the counter and sidles up next to Webby. It’s always amazed her how casually cool Lena is; it’s just so natural for her that she doesn’t even realize it and that only makes her cooler. Sometimes Webby still feels like that socially inept little girl, in over her head and head over heels for the pretty girl with pink in her hair.

“Hey, um, do you know someone in the St. Canard government called Owlson?” Lena asks.

Webby looks at her incredulously. “You mean the mayor?”

“Oh good, so you know her? I got an email from a government address saying she might be able to hook me up with some identifying documents.”

“I mean, I don’t know her but Scrooge does—” Webby starts.

“Oh god, are they enemies?” Lena interrupts. “Is this is a trap to like, kidnap me or put a bomb in my shoes or something?”

“No, no, she doesn’t like Scrooge much—or Louie, but that’s a whole other story—but she wouldn’t do anything like that,” Webby answers. She leans in closer to read the email on Lena’s phone, and Lena wraps a steadying hand around her waist. It’s embarrassing how that still gives her butterflies. “Come to think of it, why would she help us?”

Lena shrugs. “I don’t know. The email says something about St. Canard being ‘committed to providing for all its supernatural entity citizens’ and then links to some diversity initiative, so I guess it’s that.”

“You know, I think Violet sent me an article about some trouble with supernatural people there…” Webby pulls out her phone and scrolls through her messages till she finds the article. “Yup. ‘Resident Ghosts Protest Mayor Owlson’s Efforts to Revitalize Abandoned Toy Factory District.’ I bet you more than anything that’s why.”

Lena sighs. “It’s all politics in the end, eh Pink?”

“Yeah. But hey, now we have something to celebrate too!” Webby says excitedly.

Despite having just turned eighteen, she still has to stand on her toes to kiss Lena. Lena, for her part, helps by dramatically leaning down, picking Webby up, or sometimes just using her magic to hover Webby in front of her a foot or so off the ground. This time, after a few seconds on her toes, Webby sits up on the counter and wraps her arms around Lena’s shoulders.

They pause a moment, faced inches apart. Webby loves looking into Lena’s eyes, the way they are almost iridescent, picking up light and colors from around them, sometimes glowing ever-so-slightly.

“I love you so much,” Lena mutters. Enveloped in her arms, Webby feels like there’s nothing else in the universe but her and Lena; for them, everything else stands still in wait. “Thanks for helping me with all this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably not this.” Webby puts her hand on Lena’s cheek, holding the beautiful face of this girl who is her world, and they start kissing again.

“Hey girls, I don’t mean to interrupt, but the cake’s ready,” Della calls out from across the room.

Webby immediately pulls back, bright red with embarrassment. Kissing someone in front of Della, that was like kissing in front of her mom… or her aunt? Her family tree didn’t make much sense, but either way, she probably looks like a tomato at the moment, and that tells her all she needs to know about her own emotions on the situation.

The cake is beautiful. Della really is an amazing cook, despite all the time she spends with oil and jet fuel on her hands. (Webby knows she washes them before making anything, but still.) It’s piped with white frosting, a simple blue cursive lettering reading “congrats on being recognized as an alive person.” It’s a long phrase, so the words are crammed in close to each other, taking up every available space across the top of the cake. Webby laughs a little when she reads it.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Della asks. “I seem to recall you’re a girl who’s scarily good with a knife.”

Webby takes the knife and cuts a slice for each of them. It’s a small cake, but there’s still plenty left, now an incomprehensible jumble of words and cut-off letters.

“Small Della,” Penny says as they all stand around the kitchen, eating their cake. “Lena just explained to me what a college is. What do you plan to—uh—major in?”

“Oh, I’m not even sure,” Webby replies honestly. “There’s just so much cool stuff out there. I kind of want to learn everything. Maybe archaeology? I’ve always wanted to know the proper way to preserve all the artifacts we come across on our adventures.”

“Yes, I understand that your inferior Earth atmosphere can slowly destroy your people’s history over time.”

Webby just smiles and nods at that. Penny will probably always believe that the moon is superior to the earth in every possible way, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Webby thinks it’s admirable to have so much pride in your people, in where you came from, that you just can’t help it. She feels much the same way about Lena, about her family.

They stay chatting in the kitchen another hour, until it’s nearly five in the morning and they’re all exhausted, slipping into sleep as they lean against cabinets. Even Penny has gotten more used to sleeping on a solar cycle than a lunar one, and is looking a bit droopy.

Webby and Lena stumble their way up the stairs and somehow make it to her loft without major injury. But hey, it’s a weekend, and they’re in love, what a perfect time to make stupid decisions.

“I don’t wanna go to bed,” Lena admits as she cuddles into Webby underneath the covers. “Don’t wanna ruin a good day with nightmares.”

Webby plants a sleepy kiss on her cheek. She’s pretty sure she was aiming for Lena’s beak, but she is really tired. “You’ll kick those nightmare’s butts,” she says. “And then, when you wake up, I’ll be right here. And together we can do anything.”

“We can do anything,” Lena repeats, and for the first time in a long time, she dreams instead.

[fandom-puff]

An Unmarried Lady

Pairing: sandor clegane x Lannister! reader

Requested by: anon

Prompts: //

Summary: A Lannister woman with no husband was odd... Cersei and Tywin are determined to marry you off...

AN: ah! I haven’t written for Sandor clegane I’m so long!! This is my first like,,, imagine with him so I hope you enjoy it 💕 also, the reader is younger than Tyrion here ( I know he’s the youngest in the books and TV series but... just go with it okay :p)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, Joffrey Baratheon

Wine flowed freely when your nephew was in a good mood. A rebellion in the city had been quashed and Joffrey was adamant that a party be thrown to honour his victory. You rolled your eyes. Stupid boy. Still, it gave you an excuse to drink and dance without worrying so much about your reputation as the King’s Aunt. You might even be able to sneak away with Sandor...

Unfirtunately, your father and sister spent a lot of their time during these events conspiring about which knight or noble to shove in your direction. You sighed, taking a deep drink from your wine as Tywin walked over to you, a tall, dark haired man in his wake. Your eyes flickered briefly to Sandor before you plastered a sweet smile on your face as your father presented you to one another. “My youngest daughter, YN Lannister,” he said, eyes flicking between you both. You arched your eyebrows at your father as the man grasped your hand and pressed a wet kiss to your knuckles. You were clearly unimpressed.

“Are you not going to introduce yourself, Ser?” You smirked, knowing full well he was a Lord, not a Ser.

“I’m not a Ser!” He said, just as you predicted. Tywin sighed. “I’m Lord-”

“A lord?” You said in a mock-surprise tone. “You certainly don’t act like one, slobbering over my wrist. I’ve had better trained dogs,” you said slyly.

Tywin looked up to the ceiling, composing himself. “Lord Pyne. Go,” he said sharply as you turned to him, your hands on your hips.

“Your standards are slipping, father,” you said coldly, making to walk away but he grabbed your arm.

“It’s very hard to uphold such high standards when you refuse every suitor within two minutes of meeting him,” he said, glaring down at you. You stared back, challenging him. His eyes softened slightly- the perks of being the baby sister in the family.

“When you can find me a good, honest man who isn’t an arrogant bastard, father, then I’ll consider letting him court me,” you said, eyes not leaving his.

He sighed, exhasperated. As far as he knew, you had been single for far too long. “YN. You must understand, an unmarried Lannister woman... you haven’t been courted since your first bleeding,” you flushed slightly. “People talk, YN,”

“People talk about Cersei and Jaime fucking, father,” you hissed, tugging your arm out of his grasp. “People talk about Tyrion frequenting whore houses and burning his way through the people’s taxes in fortified wine. I am the only child of yours who hasn’t got a poor reputation for incest and whoring. Your grandson is King of the seven kingdoms, each of your sons hold a position on the small council. Your oldest daughter was married off for the family’s gain. There are no more positions, no more seats for me to take. Focus on controlling that tyrant up there,” you nodded to the throne, “before you even THINK about marrying me off to some dimwitted lord who can’t tell his arse from his elbow,” you turned on your heel and stormed away from your father. He shook his head and receded back to Cersei as you went to find your favourite brother.

You breezed past Sandor, brushing against him, even though you didn’t really need to. You could just imagine his slight smirk as your skirts fluttered about his ankles and your hair flowed behind you.

Finding Tyrion, you huffed and sat next to him, stealing his goblet and taking a sip.

“Hey now, dear sister, get your own,” he said teasingly, though he grabbed another goblet from a serving girl. “Who has Father tried to pawn you off to now?” He smirked, knowing that was the only thing that could get you so riled up.

“Lord Pyne,” you said, rolling your eyes. Tyrion roared with laughter.

“Him? Ha! I bet he still has his mother’s milk in his belly!” He grinned, causing you to crack a small smile. “Ahhh, there she is, that beautiful smile. You break hearts, you know, YN, keeping that smile to yourself,”

You shook your head slightly. “I want to marry someone I love, Tyrion,” you sighed. “I don’t see the point in marrying me off to some Lord,”

Tyrion smirked. “Do you not want a lord, YN?” He nudged you. “Would you rather we get you a prince? A warlord? A great Dothraki warlord to carry you off on his horse and fuck you amongst the heathens?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you dare suggest that to father,”

“Suggest what to father?” You turned to see your sister standing over you.

“Tyrion’s had the bright idea to whore me out to the Dothraki, seeing as you and father cannot find a suitor who doesn’t wear his arse as a cap,” you said, smirking. Cersei scrunched her nose up.

“He isn’t that desperate,” she said, sitting down with you, fussing over your gown.

“I beg to differ,” you said, batting her hands away. “Honestly, Cersei, I’ve just turned twenty two. Must you fuss over my dress like that?”

“Yes! We must be presentable. And you really ought to start wearing your hair up like mine,”

You snorted. “Cers, I have much better things to do than preening myself for hours on end,” you tucked your hair behind your ear. You did not favour the high hairstyles that your sister so often sported. You preferred to wear it down with simple plaits and discrete jewels for decoration.

“You need a husband, YN. You ought to have been wedded and bedded as soon as you bled,”

“I bled when I was twelve, Cersei,” you growled, sitting a little straighter, eyebrows knitted together in a deep frown.

“Our little sister wants to marry for love, Cersei,” Tyrion said quickly diffusing the situation, draining his cup. Cersei was about to argue when Joffrey spoke up.

“Aunt YN. Come,” you sighed, glaring at Cersei before pushing through the crowd to your nephew. You sunk into a slight curtsey, never going as low as you should.

“Your highness?” You said, looking him in the eye. He may be your king, but you were still his aunt.

“I’m bored. My dog here says he has never danced. I want to see him dance,” you flushed as the room went silent. Sandor stood staring straight ahead, and you swallowed.

“My lord?” You said, standing tall and staring him down.

“No man would allow his wife to dance with such a creature. But you have no man, do you, Aunt YN?” His lips curled into a sadistic smirk as you gritted your teeth.

“No, your highness,” you said stiffly.

“Hound. Dance with my Aunt YN. Perhaps you will scare here into wedding and bedding a lord,”

The room was silent. You flashed your eyes to your father briefly, but he was glaring at the King. Cersei has her lips pursed and Tyrion looked thunderous.

“Yes, my Lord,” you said sweetly, nodding slightly at Sandor.

“Play something!” The king demanded, clapping his hands and lounging in his throne. Sandor took your hand and you guided him into the proper dancing position. “Closer, Hound!” Joffrey snapped. “Show my court what a good little wife she would make,”

“Your majesty,” Tyrion said lowly, warningly.

“Quiet, uncle! Play!”

You took a deep breath as the music started, dancing the steps perfectly, the way you had learned since you were a little girl, while Sandor just stepped along, holding you. If the entire court wasn’t watching and Joffrey wasn’t demanding a circus performance, it would have been quite nice. Sandor’s jaw was tight as you danced, and he squeezed your hand and hip.

Joffrey clapped, laughing at his clever little performance that he had coordinated. The court began to laugh along nervously, and you shut your eyes, looking at your feet, unable to show Sandor how humiliated you felt. “Tell my court, Hound! Tell my court how she feels! Would she make a good wife? A good slut for a lord?”

“Enough!” You suddenly snapped, tugging away from sandor’s strong grip. The room suddenly descended into silence again as you turned to the court. “The King is tired!” You announced. “Ser Trant, Ser Moore, escort the king to his quarters, and ensure he eats his supper,” the king spluttered as the two kingsguards looked frantically to Cersei and Tywin. They nodded, and soon the king was escorted to his room like a spoilt child. “Play on,” you said, clapping your hands and smiling sweetly, gesturing for people to commence dancing. Tywin offered his hand to a highborn lady and soon others followed his lead. You stared up at Sandor with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but he simply grabbed your hand and took you away from the dancing, sitting with you in an alcove, away from prying eyes.

Well, most of them.

“Father,” Tyrion said, smirking at his father and sister. “The next suitor shouldn’t be a Lord, or even a Ser,” he said, nodding over to the alcove, where you pressed a chaste kiss to the scarred side of sandor’s face. “I think we’ve solved the mystery as to why sweet YN has been impossible to court,”

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