#or make one into existence because deAR LORD

[raointean]

Funniest responses* to the "What does "Blorbo" mean?" question

(In reference to my silmarillion fandom linguistics project, the results of which you can find in my "survey says" tag)

*not necessarily the full response, some are just fragments from longer responses. Also, I'm not filtering by "correct" or "incorrect" responses

Special Little Guy (gender neutral)

Lmao. That's like, my special little guy. He takes up my brain space. I'm rotating him.

you know how lilo from lilo and stitch has that doll she made, complete with backstory? basically like that

one's blorbo is a character one cares a lot about. it kind of has like... condescending or woobifying connotations? like expressing that Maedhros is your blorbo is sort of uh... one imagines like, a chibi Maedhros. cute, not scary. but it doesn't necessarily imply the speaker has distorted perception of the character in general, just a sort of fondness

The character a person wants to use as a doll/stuffed animal

A character who the author loves too much (and knows it)

"OMG Blorbo was in the new trailer for 5 seconds!" is a common statement

which often provokes... strange thoughts at 11pm.

Beloved character who you think about entirely too much and also enjoy putting in Situations

It implies some degress of being pathetic as well.

No relation to Blorbo Baggins.

The character you put under a microscope, put through the cheese grater, put into the salad spinner, and squeeze like a plushie.

A beloved character whom you want to both stick in a microwave and protect with all you have

character one fangirls* over (*gender neutral)

Just a little guy, whom I am deeply enamored of and just want to squish on the head and see what happens.

Favourive character, often pathetic, someone to pity as much as love

obsessed. baby. Will run my mouth off about them

the word "favorite" wasn't enough to encapsulate "the exact kind of character made specifically for me in the lab" either. my friendgroup started calling those types of characters "callouts" because they were calling you out by existing Exactly To Your Tastes

(not necessarily in a way that condones their actions, but deeply beloved nonetheless)

The "cinnamon roll" kind. Idk I love Namo but I'd never call him a blorbo, it just wouldn't feel right.

??

dear?

My personal favourite character, whom I want to adopt even if he's a dark lord

A particularly beloved (or beloathed-in-a-positive-way) character.

Generally seem to be problematic favs.

I think it was originally meant to be somewhat mocking, but it was wholeheartedly adopted and is now used unironically.

A favored character that usually is subjected to great amounts of trauma and or fluff.

A favourite character, usually male

The obsession character

Feanor/character you are unreasonably attached to esp. if they are a Bad Person TM

The character who is most special and beloved to you (and often that means you're gonna put them through The Horrors)

a character that makes you chew on the bars of your enclosure

Special little character from my shows(tm)

usually having an aura of kicked wet puppy (brimby)

You'd build a shrine to them

Idk, ask the children 😹. Er. Hot character you like? I'm sure people have very complex definitions explaining why they like the hot character but I don't take fandom that seriously.

Your guy (gender neutral), not a comfort character, but perhaps a character you would like to see experience the worst situations possible (affectionate)

occasionally blorbo from my floor (my cat)

Just a widdle pathetic guy 🥺😈

A favourite character, thuogh usually one you squash like a stress ball or squeaky toy rather than put gently on a shelf

Ungoliant

Guy (gender neutral) who I hold in my hand like a neat rock and look at

character whom i will put in a glass and shake

character you are putting in the metaphorical salad spinner

A favourite character, often a war criminal treated like they did nothing wrong, they are a little kitty

(character you're particularly attached to and usually put in physically and/or mentally torturous situations for fun)

A character you’ve imprinted on and like seeing in misery. They’re your wet cat you enjoy pouring water on but also toweling off

Your favorite character, to whom no harm may come (except in the service of angst)

my guy. my friend my buddy. the person

Literally your favourite ever character, but not like you want to f*ck them, more like "how much can i let them suffer?"

Your favouritest character from media that you like to put in all kinds of situations, but is not morally problematic.

favourite character you want to bully

a fictional character that you like to an obsessive amount, typically more than other favourite characters; your specialist little guy; someone you are unwell about; you don’t always have to like your blorbo per day but they must take up constant thought space

[dufferpuffer]

~crawls out of my mud hole like a bunyip~ Delicious… food… Albus meta...

This is a cool comparison to make - because so much is the same, as OP said. + Albus is trying to keep them on his side. + Harry and Severus have both lost someone dear to them and are going through emotional breakdowns. + They both blame themselves for their losses and both wish for non-existence. + Albus stays carefully controlled while they rage and mourn. + He references 'The Best Of' Severus and Harrys 'Greatest Strength' as being the fact they care deeply.

But I think, with all those similarities... We can distinctly see how these two situations differ.

(Small thing: I don't think Albus suspected Tom was immortal until at LEAST scar-baby with no Voldy-coprse, so it hadn't been kept from Severus. But whatever.)

Make no mistake: Albus is a COLD man. Just about frozen over. + Partially intentional - a lifetime of keeping people away, not trusting anyone with his vulnerabilities. + Partially just… he's always been like that. An outcast, out of step with the rest of the world.

In that section with Severus: His high heel boot is pressing down on Snape's neck. + He explains the situation in short, harsh sentences. + He cuts Snape off. + Offers one way forward with absolutely no comfort, no time to breathe, no understanding or sympathy. + He meets his anguish with harsh, mocking cruelty. + The pace is fast, bouncing between them, barely any descriptive words for Albus' speech other than 'coldly' and 'sighed'.

The only softness, the only 'warmth', is in him saying: “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Even that is manipulative: Agreeing to be obedient is 'the best' of him. It's a joke, really, to call him lifting his boot from choking Severus 'warmth'...

Adding this from a little before - 'coz it's DELICIOUSLY savage:

“I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…” “She and James put their faith in the wrong person,” said Dumbledore. “Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?” Snape’s breathing was shallow.

...Severus dares to suggest ANY of this guilt sits with Albus and gets his head bitten off for it. Albus shirks responsibility off his own shoulders, slides it onto Severus' by comparing him directly to the betrayer - and then slaps him in the face for being such a moron, hoping Voldemort of all people would do as he asked. Whoever betrayed Lily (Sirius) is nothing compared to him and his foolish folly.

It is VICIOUS how Albus stomps guilt down his throat.

… ... ...

For Harry's section, He is bellowing in anguish too. (More violently but that's not important.) Albus has locked him in his office. He is railroading Harry, giving him one way forward: listen to what he has to say. Be obedient.

But the way he goes about this is so utterly different: (I'm including things omitted from the above point for its brevity - same chapter.)

‘I DON’T CARE!’ Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. ‘I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANY MORE -‘ He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions. ‘You do care,’ said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. ‘You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.’ ‘I - DON’T!’ Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself. ‘Oh, yes, you do,’ said Dumbledore, still more calmly. ‘You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care.’ ‘YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!’ Harry roared. ‘YOU- STANDING THERE- YOU-‘ But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it. But the door would not open. Harry turned back to Dumbledore. ‘Let me out,’ he said. He was shaking from head to foot. ‘No,’ said Dumbledore simply. For a few seconds they stared at each other. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said again. ‘No,’ Dumbledore repeated. ‘If you don’t - if you keep me in here - if you don’t let me -‘ ‘By all means continue destroying my possessions,’ said Dumbledore serenely. ‘I daresay I have too many.’ He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. ‘Not until I have had my say,’ said Dumbledore.

Albus is unflinching, detached. Harry hates how calm he is, he wants to break how calm he is, make him openly feel something for once. Albus is infuriatingly serene, saying things simply, sitting down… encouraging Harry's outburst of emotion. It is Harry that speaks coldly this time - forcing his anguish to be calm and savage rather than hot and roaring.

That is already hugely different from when he spoke to Severus - where he cut him off and mocked him. 'Is this remorse? What use is that to anyone?'

Rather than telling Harry his pain is useless he sympathizes. Deeply. With intricate detail: He knows how it feels to lose your father, mother and close family: It is 'as if you will bleed to death with the pain'. He could have brought up his own experiences up - to try and prove that he does know, that he and Harry are the same in this. But he doesn't. What use would his remorse be? To try and gain sympathy, a defense of himself, at this moment of horror would be grotesquely selfish. He isn't here to defend himself.

‘Do you - do you think I want to - do you think I give a - I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!’ Harry roared. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!’ ‘You will,’ said Dumbledore steadily. ‘Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.’ ‘What are you talking -?’ ‘It is my fault that Sirius died,’ said Dumbledore clearly. ‘Or should I say, almost entirely my fault - I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone.’ Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing. ‘Please sit down,’ said Dumbledore. It was not an order, it was a request.

With Severus - Albus took any guilt off his own shoulders and saddled Severus with it. Used it to pressure him. He does the EXACT opposite here. Everything is put on his own shoulders and the little bit that isn't he frames as a compliment to Sirius' character - not a failing.

+ He guilt-tripped and demanded Severus pay his debt to Lily. He gave him no choice. Severus' obedience would be his best quality. + He requests Harry to sit down and listen while he gives him the truth. Explains his own guilt. Not for sympathy, but because Harry is owed the truth. 'If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been…'

Albus is not an open man. he is secretive, distant, cold. But he isn't doing that here. For pages and pages he answers Harry's questions in such detail... I doubt he has told anyone else such a complete account. He likes to keep the whole picture to himself having been bitten by betrayals before… But he tells Harry so much. He answers his yelled, spat and snarled questions calmly - never once 'coldly'.

…And it gets to him. It cracks his calm, unflinching persona. A man who does things 'for the greater good', keeping himself detached from wild emotions to stand steady, act with cold logic:

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him. On the contrary, he felt even angrier that Dumbledore was showing signs of weakness. He had no business being weak when Harry wanted to rage and storm at him. Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses. ‘It is time,’ he said, ‘for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me - to do whatever you like - when I have finished. I will not stop you.’ [...] ‘Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine,’ said Dumbledore. ‘An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort.’ […] ‘Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid.’ ‘I don’t -‘ ‘I cared about you too much,’ said Dumbledore simply. ‘I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. […] Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard.

...It is all so out of character for Albus to speak like this. To spend pages not just explaining events and other peoples perspectives - but his own personal thought processes, his own emotions, his own failings and his own plans.

Maybe it's all a manipulative act. He's leaking crocodile tears with big puppy eyes to win Harry's favor, giving him what he wants - knowledge and support - to lure him back to obedience... But that is the exact opposite to how we normally see him manipulate people.

+ Twinkling eyes and small smiles, light silly humor + Mixing making himself seem impressive with self-effacing. + Staying calm and unaffected, as if lightly humored. + Gently pointing people in the direction he wants them to think rather than giving answers outright, risking leaking how he feels and what he knows. (as even seen in the very first chapter of the first book). + A judging use of "So you would even feel X…?", bringing up the concept of 'X' as if he may disagree - but leaving himself free to swing positive or negative, or stay vague. When tensions get higher: + His calm freezing over, becoming cold. + Speech snappy and harsh, insulting and belittling. + Dominating demands, controlling the conversation. + Never revealing more information than is strictly necessary. + Withholding information, even when cruel to do so. + Acting innocent while twisting events to favor him.

He isn't doing ANY of that in this chapter with Harry. And when he does almost, just a little, like the multiple probings of 'do you see now where my plan failed…?' - trying to avoid having to rip himself open and admit his feelings… he does so anyway. Not vague, not tip-toeing: he bites the bullet. He stays calm, yes - but is not unaffected. He cries. He shows weakness Harry has never seen before.

It's not just a one-and-done moment either - from this point on he includes Harry in so much of HBP. He takes him from the Dursleys mere days into Summer (after Harry tells him off here for keeping him 'trapped' like Sirius) and gets his aid in things he tells nobody else about (after saying here how he should have been including him more, like Harry wanted, rather than pushing him away for 'his own safety' when he will be in danger no matter what.) Albus heeds Harry's pain and works to do better. He changes.

He is not as cold and manipulative here as he was to Snape.

Dumbledore's Manipulations: Part 6(?)

I just reread the scene in Deathly Hallows of Dumbledore and Snape on Snape's memories after Lily died, and that entire scene reminded me of the scene at the end of book 5. After Sirius died and Harry was having his breakdown.

Snape breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?” “DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone. . . dead. . . ” “Is this remorse, Severus?” “I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ” “And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.” Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him. “What—what do you mean?” “You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.” “He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—” “The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.” There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last, he said, “Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!” “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist. . . ”

(DH, 573)

Harry breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Sirius dies:

“There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,” said Dumbledore’s voice. “On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.” Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words. “My greatest strength, is it?” said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue. . . . You don’t know . . .” “What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly. It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage. “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?” “Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —” “THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!” [...] “Let me out,” Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. “Not until I have had my say,” said Dumbledore. [...] “It meant,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.” Harry felt as though something was closing in upon him. His breathing seemed difficult again. “It means — me?” [...] “I am afraid,” said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, “that there is no doubt that it is you.”

(OotP, 823)

I just, found these two scenes awfully similar in tone when reading the one in Deathly Hallows last night.

In both Snape/Harry are in emotional turmoil after the most important person to them dies. Both feel like dying (Snape: "I wish I were dead", Hary: "then I don't want to be human"). Both shout at Dumbledore when he speaks all too calmly of things they don't want/need to hear at that moment.

And Dumbledore speaks calmly and coldly to both of them, revealing information he hid from them both (to Snape he tells about Voldemort's immortality, to Harry he tells about the Prophecy) before guilting them through their grief into what he needs them to do.

Now, I'm not exactly blaming him, because, from his position, he needs Snape as a spy and he needs Harry to be willing to do anything to kill Voldemort — to take Voldemort as his responsibility. Dumbledore needs these things to happen to have the best chance of completing his plan to defeat Voldemort.

I just, can't help but note how cold it is. How cold and manipulative Dumbledore can be when he feels he needs to be. Even as he explains his care for Harry as a flaw in his plan, he speaks calmly and simply. And he is right caring about Harry is a flaw, because he always planned for Harry to die. He knew since he saw the scar on Harry's forehead:

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”

(OotP, 826)

And even if I think Dumbledore is honest in that he'd rather Harry wouldn't die, I don't think he cares for him as much as he says he does. In the same way, he's very cold towards Snape even years later when he tells him Harry must die. (I don't think Snape and Dumbledore are actually friends)

Idk, I just read the scene in DH with Snape and it really reminded me of the scene with Harry at the end of OotP.

[doerrferr]

okok i really need to sleep but im being unnecessarily autistic thinking about

»crowley’s snake eyes can’t see the stars«

and what if aziraphale got them one of the nebula sensory lamps and miracled it more accessible so crowley could see them (and so that it showed their favourite nebulae)

[dreampearls]

if i wasnt infected with colleibrain i think i would be like way more immensely anguished over nahida and rukkhadevata than i am right now

[sttoru]

clan leader!satoru, whose smile isn’t actually a. . . smile. it serves as a gentle (yet not-so-gentle) threat to whomever it is dedicated to. a lot of the gojo clan members, as well as members from other noble clans, have heard of that infamous smile and know of its true meaning.

ever since marrying you, that smile often finds its way onto his lips. it’s not because of you, but rather because of the ones interacting with you. satoru didn’t ever expect to feel so possessive about someone he initially didn’t care for.

a marriage of convenience is all that your relationship was for. it purely existed for the sake of a connection between two famous families. your first weeks together have been awkward. any form of affection - any touches or loving words - were for the sake of his image.

however that all was fated to change: satoru eventually found himself falling for his wife.

your kind personality, your subtle smiles, the embarrassed expression on your face whenever he teased you in front of others even if it was all a faux display- an act of being all lovey-dovey. your inner and outer beauty was slowly becoming more apparent to the white-haired man.

you don’t know when it started. you can’t recall why satoru is suddenly acting affectionate even behind closed doors. usually, he’d drop the act the second you’re in your chambers. now he continues to compliment you, pepper you with chaste kisses as long as you allowed him to… even refer to you as his ‘dear’, ‘pretty girl’ or ‘sweetheart’ to your face like it’s nothing.

you shrug off your own guards and maids when they curiously inform you about their lord’s sudden change of personality, which was supposedly all because of you.

“ah, my wife,” satoru’s voice echoes above the loud chatter in the main hall. you turn your head and find your heart racing for some reason as he addresses you in that gentle tone.

he makes his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving your face, even as other important figures try to catch his attention to talk business. “i was greatly worried about you,” your husband sighs.

a gloved hand cups your face and satoru leans in, his glossy lips inches from yours. you’d think this was part of the fake arrangement, but there’s this genuine hint of adoration behind his cerulean eyes that you cannot ignore.

“i— my apologies,” you murmur softly, eyes darting around the room while you try to ignore the loud thumping of your heart. “i was simply talking to one of the guards,” you explain and nod your head to the bulky man standing next to you.

the guard respectfully bows to satoru the second you introduce him. your husband doesn’t respond for a single second, his fingers twitching lightly at his side. he can’t stand the thought of you talking to another man while he isn’t around.

is it for your own safety? or is it because he’s jealous and immediately wants to get rid of any man who dares speak to his precious wife? perhaps it’s a mixture of both.

“i see,” satoru replies. his eyes darken for a second before he catches himself. the corners of his lips curl upwards, though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

that familiar sight makes you nervous. you’ve seen it before, when your husband would subtly threaten others for whatever reason, while hiding his true feelings behind that smile.

“well,” satoru continues, his arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you against his side and places a kiss on top of your head while glaring at the guard through his white eyelashes.

“thank you for keeping my wife safe,” the clan leader says through that tight smile, trying to keep it as ‘genuine’ looking as possible. he has a reputation and image to uphold after all.

you’re about to say something, but are cut off as satoru adds another comment. “i’m here now, so you can return to your post.”

it isn’t a suggestion. it is an order— a command. a disguised threat.

the guard immediately picks up on the subtle hint and nods without saying a word before walking back to his spot at the doors. you can hear the faint whispers from others as they also seem to recognise that change in satoru’s demeanour.

it’s not like you’re totally oblivious to what’s happening either. you look up at satoru and place a hand on his chest, trying to catch his attention. “satoru,” you whisper his name.

the white-haired man immediately snaps out of it and excitedly shoots you that boyish smile of his instead of the fake, cold one he wore on his face just a second ago.

“you called, my dear?” satoru tilts his head, bringing a hand to rest over yours on his chest. your eyes widen a bit at the way he seems to relax and look at you with that same devoted gaze.

you don’t think it’s an act anymore. the words die on your tongue and you can’t recall what you wanted to say anymore. those sparkling blue eyes and charming smile have you rendered speechless.

“…it’s nothing,” you mutter under your breath. you have no clue how you’ve managed to turn that once, cocky, overly confident and cold-hearted ruler into a total softie for you. it’s something you still need to process yourself.

satoru doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, glaring at the men who pass by, shooting them that fake, threatening smile if they looked like they desired to converse with you.

you’re his wife, and that’s that. he silently wonders when you’ll realise that he actually fell for you. perhaps you are already aware of it, but hide it from him on purpose.

whatever the case is, satoru will make sure that you know his true feelings for you. one day he will tell you those three words explicitly— if it wasn’t obvious enough through his sudden change of behavior.

[generalsmemories]

Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.

this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡

There's tension in the air.

"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."

You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.

It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.

Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"

"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."

As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.

"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.

You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.

"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."

"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"

"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"

"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."

You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.

"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.

"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.

"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.

You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.

So much for a day off.

You can't breathe.

"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.

Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"

There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.

"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.

Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.

Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"

"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.

"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"

"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."

Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.

[igotanidea]

Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

***

One year ago

„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”

“What irrational thoughts?”

“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”

“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—

“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”

“But-“

“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”

“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”

“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”

“There is no possibility that I-“

“Hush!”

“Mother I –“

“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.

“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”

“I will not!”

“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”

“Commitments!?”

“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”

“Mother!”

“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”

***

The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.

It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.

However-

Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.

Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.

Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.

Getting burned with the tea in response.

Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.

For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.

Next few visits were no better.

Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.

“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”

She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.

“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”

“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”

“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”

“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.

“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”

“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.

“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”

“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.

“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”

“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”

“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”

***

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.

Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 

Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.

This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.

It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.

After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.

***

Now.

“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”

Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.

“What is so funny?”

“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”

“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“Seem like you do after all.”

“Y/N…”

“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.

“Y/N…”

“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”

“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.

At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.

Being called too much, constantly.

Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.

And then meeting Anthony.

And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.

But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.

Too much.

Not enough.

And it made her angry.

“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”

“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.

“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.

“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.

 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”

And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.

Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.

Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.

next part (finale!) : Just right

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall

[bluecrocss]

Yes. You are racist. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one)

So approximately half a year since the premier of the Disney+ Percy Jackson show, and almost two years since the announcement of the Trio's casting, I would like to take this moment to look back at the insane, racist and anti-black backlash that was launched at Leah Sava Jeffries and a few other cast members from the PJO fandom.

I'm not concerned with the trolls who are openly racist, who resorted to racist slurs and outright threats, everyone agrees that they "took it too far". I want to talk about the rest of you, the "I'm not racist, but.." people, the "What's wrong with wanting book accuracy?" people. Just to let you know, for the unasked question... yes, yes you are.

I've noticed the Percy Jackson fandom has been lording some weird superiority complex over a certain *unnamed* fandom that has fallen out of grace due to their recently outed bigot of an author. But honestly, y'all are not much different. The amount of vitriol and anti-blackness I have seen from this fandom (beyond just bullying a 12 year old girl), y'all don't have a leg to stand on.

Below is a breakdown of the most common arguments I have seen used to justify y'alls absolutely insane bigotry. I am going to explain why none of these justify the amount of anger and vitriol y'all have sent towards Leah, Rick or any of the cast.

I am not here to argue, and this is not a democracy. I am giving you a chance for some self-reflection and to understand that this pattern of violence directed towards POC actors (mostly black women) has never been justified in the name of "book accuracy"/"comic book accuracy"/"ending forced diversity" or whatever other excuses y'all try to make up.

If you still try to justify or argue further for any of these points, I will just block you. I am not coddling you through your racism. If anyone has seen any other dumb arguments floating around that I might've missed, feel free to sound off in the comments.

She's not book accurate:

Neither is Percy, Luke, Grover, Dionysus, Poseidon, and just about every other named character.

Rick already made it clear that physical features were not the priority with casting, rather it was actors that embodied the role. So why are the biggest complaints about Annabeth and Zeus? 🤔

What? You're gonna say everyone else got backlash too? I see you trying to obscure the main issue by playing dumb 😉

See my friend, yes, there were one or two comments about how Percy's hair should be black or how Luke is supposed to be blonde, but as soon as Leah was cast, none of those actors got any significant backlash. In fact, Walker and Charlie literally have an army of fan girls at their beck and call, calling them the perfect Percy and Luke, despite neither being "Book accurate". But then again, have we not observed the pattern of White boy of the month vs WOC to hate for the year? (Yes, I know Charlie isn't white. Further adds to the irony, doesn't it).

Why include character descriptions if you won't stay true to them, you cry? Well, my dear sweet moron, see, books and TV are two different mediums. Because in literature, you can't *Literally* SEE the characters, the author has to add descriptions to paint a picture in your mind, in TV... that's not an issue. So unless the character's appearance is necessary to the plot (like Luke's scar, or Nico being Italian) the show runners can actually focus on more important things.. Like ACTING and PERSONALITY.

2. It's just not how I imagined her:

News flash, babe! ANNABETH ISN'T REAL. None of these character are. They are concepts that originated from the brain of Mr. Rick Riordan. It doesn't matter how YOU imagined her. There are millions of people who read these books that imagined her several different ways. When the creator of the character watched Leah's audition and said, 'Yes! She embodies the character I created!", your imagined version of Annabeth ceased to matter. And guess what? The books still exist... they have not been burned. Your version of Annabeth has not disappeared. Go read the books.

3. Zeus can't be black/Gods have to be Greek/*Insert Character* can't be black:

Y'all did not read the books, I swear. You have to be fake fans looking to troll atp.

The gods move based off the center of western civilization. They change their forms/environment to reflect the culture they are occupying (they did it with Rome, now they're doing it with America). The gods change forms all the time. How we see them is not their true form as a mortal would disintegrate if they were to see their true form.

America is a cultural melting pot (specifically NY where Mount Olympus is now based). If the god's choose forms that reflect the current society they inhabit, they could literally be any race (keep in mind NYC is only 33% white).

All of this is literally SPELLED OUT in the Lightning Thief.

Furthermore, if you're going to push the ethnically Greek thing... Poseidon is British with a British accent and Hermes is Latino. The only ethnically Greek actor is Dionysus (who still doesn't look book accurate). Y'all are sounding like some white supremacists because do you forget that race is a social construct?

Before the advent of the transatlantic slave trade, I can promise you that the Greeks and the Anglo-Saxons did NOT view themselves as the same people. Why are y'all not taking issue with Poseidon's actor then?

Also, Percy Jackson has canonically had a slew of explicitly black demigods since the second book (including Harriet Tubman, which I have mixed feelings about 😭), so I genuinely have no idea where some of y'all are going with this point.

4. She was our smart blonde representation:

Don't pmo. I swear to God!

White, blonde women have NEVER been excluded from Hollywood. Representation is not something you lacked. The dumb blonde stereotype was a simple branch off of a larger misogynistic "dumb woman" stereotype. It has not truly been relevant since the mid 2000s outside of childish jokes.

This iteration of Percy Jackson will probably not go beyond the first 5 books, based off pacing and the age of the actors. So here's a fun game: 5 bucks to the first person who can find me a quote in the first 5 Percy Jackson books, where Annabeth laments her insecurities about being blonde (hint: there aren't any).

Also, her blonde hair does not hold her back at Camp because she is head of the Athena Cabin who are highly respected (and guess what?), ARE ALL BLONDE!

Her insecurities about her hair color are two or three lines at most in the later books, not this fundamental, core part of her character y'all all of a sudden wanna pretend it was. And guess what, as a non-blonde black girl, I was able to read those scenes of Annabeth feeling undervalued because of her looks and relate to her even if she didn't look like me at the time.

Why all of a sudden can y'all not do that with a black Annabeth? By every metric black girls are undervalued for their intelligence in academia more than white girls are, regardless of hair color. So your little representation of a woman undervalued by her looks would still hold. Do y'all dehumanize black women so much, that you are incapable of empathizing with show!Annabeth's plight in the way I could with Book!Annabeth simply because she doesn't look exactly like you?

Your issue isn't that she isn't blonde, it's that she is NOT WHITE.

Furthermore, Becky Riordan had tweeted previously (before the show was even cast) that Annabeth never needed to be blonde (probably recalling the BS y'all put Alexandra Daddario through), so even if they cast a white Annabeth, the blonde hair was never a guarantee. the author and producers all agree that it was not a significant part of her character. It's been a non-issue since day one.

Also, stop acting like smart blondes are rare in media... If you don't go watch some Legally blonde, Iron Man (Pepper Potts), Zack and Cody (Maddie), Liv and Maddie, FMAB (Winry), Captain Marvel, She-Ra, Buffy, The boys (starlight) etc. etc., and go sit down somewhere 🙄🙄🙄 (those were literally all things I've watched recently, off the top of my head, btw 💀)

5. It's not about race, but...:

Yes it is. It was always bout race. No other actors got as much hate as Leah. Her grandmother and other family members on IG had to mute their comments because they were getting so many threats.

Alexandra Daddario had to come to her defense on Twitter. Rick had to put out an official statement on his website. This girl has endured years of psychological torment for simply having the best audition. No one else is book accurate, no one else is ethnically Greek (except Jason Mantzoukas). Walker literally has British and German ancestry.

Why was she being called racial slurs on reddit and in youtube comments?

I know what you're gonna say, "I actually had problems with the entire cast", "I actually had a bigger issue with Walker's hair color", blah blah blah. Then why aren't you in Walker's comment sections? Why are you only making your displeasure known on posts defending/advocating for Leah? Why is she always your first example of 'wrong casting"?

Well, she "looks the most different"... Look up the term "scapegoating".

"Oh, I don't agree with the harassment. I just don't like the casting." Guess what? She's already been cast. They are not going to uncast her. What do you get out of still complaining about it.

All the vitriol you're stirring about her when you complain about her on Social media, it is directing people to send her hate, even if you're not writing it directly. It's is not enough to "not agree" with the racism, it is your duty to actively prevent it. And btw, these are young gen z actors, they are active on social media. They see the edits of themselves (even comment on it) and they most likely see these little "harmless" complaints you're posting. Are your upset feelings really worth contributing to the racist dogpile on this poor girl?

6. Why couldn't they atleast give her blonde braids?:

Why should they? Y'all wanted blonde because of the "dumb blonde" trope... that doesn't apply to POC.

A blonde black girl is gonna be viewed the same as a non-blonde black girl (or at worst, someone might decide she's "ratchet" or some shit for wearing colored hair). What difference would it make?

Why shouldn't Walker dye his hair, then?

7. Annabeth has Gray eyes:

Less than 3% of the global population has "gray eyes". Even if they cast a white actor, they would've needed contacts. Her being black is not the reason Annabeth's eyes aren't gray. Simply put, it is a plot element they removed, like the whole "names have power" element, or Ares having flames for eyes, or Dionysus using his powers to grow strawberries at Camp.

That's how adaptations work. Unnecessary plot elements are cut to save time and budget. This has nothing to do with her casting. They probably also didn't want to make child actors wear contacts (not a new practice).

8. Even if Rick chose her, he was wrong/Disney is forcing him to be okay with it:

Where do I start? Rick created the character. He can't be wrong. Do y'all have no self-awareness? Death of the author has no place here, because y'all are hung up on an aspect of the character that is not relevant to her arc or development.

Y'all's justification for wanting a "book accurate" Annabeth is that she was such an inspirational and important character growing up, and yet your behavior is so in conflict with the character you claim means so much to you. You're narrow minded, dismissive of bigotry and injustice, and disrespectful to the wishes of the creator of your favorite character; everything that Annabeth would never be. Y'all were never genuine fans of the books. You're bigots that needed an outlet for your rage.

Keep in mind, Rick has said countless times that PercaBeth directly mirrors his relationship with his wife. Y'all think he would have allowed them to cast someone who doesn't live up to the woman who has been by his side for decades? The mother of his children?

Regarding Disney forcing him, show me one piece of direct evidence that proves Disney in anyway pressured Rick to cast her. Cuz if you can't, that's baseless speculation. And if you have to resort to baseless speculation, maybe try to examine why it's so important to you to hold on to this belief.

9. So, I'm racist because I hate "race swapping"?:

To start, there is a difference between "race swapping" and "color blind casting". Often times, when y'all complain about the former, you're actually mad about the latter.

It would be "race swapping" if Rick and the team decided ahead of time that they wanted a black Annabeth and ONLY allowed black actors to audition. But the actual reality was that they accepted auditions from everyone (there were white actors and non-black poc that also auditioned for the role) and chose the best person who embodied the role. They didn't "make Annabeth black" and they didn't "make Zeus black", they cast black actors for those roles.

Y'all think you're being slick with your wording. Dismissing that is implying that they did not earn their roles fair and square. Which is racist. It's the equivalent of going up to a black college student and telling them they only got in because of affirmative action. You're dismissing the achievements of a person solely because of their racial background.

For all you people complaining about "unfairness" and "forced diversity", I would think hiring based on merit would appeal to you 🤔

71% of theatrical Hollywood leads were white in 2024 in comparison to 29% POC and you still think "black washing" is a thing? You still get this angry over a black person fairly earning a role because you think in a time where Hollywood only knows to do remakes and adaptations, that the majority of lead roles still *have* to be reserved for white actors?

Once again, white people have never been excluded from Hollywood for being white. Representation has never been something you lacked nor is it something you can lose. Your anger comes from seeing a black face where you think they don't belong. Because you feel you are owed a disproportion of representation in Hollywood.

10. Woke agenda/DEI/Forced Diversity:

If you are unironically using any of these terms in a negative light, it's already too late for me to reason with you. Look up the term "dog whistle". If you are sharing the same terminology with Elon Musk and his fanboys, maybe reevaluate some things.

POC are objectively underrepresented and have been historically excluded through actual laws and policies in Hollywood. There is no such thing as "forced diversity", you have bought in to a right wing conspiracy theory.

"Woke" is a term that was intentionally appropriated from the black community. It originally meant being aware of injustice and systematic threats to the community and is now being weaponized by bigots. Good job.

Diversity and inclusion is a good thing.

11. But POC deserve to have their own stories told:

We do. And we have been fighting for it for over a century now, and we've made great strides, no thanks to y'all.

No thanks to y'all gaslighting us about how little representation we get or that representation matters at all. No thanks to y'all pushing the idea that POC can't sell globally and obscuring POC actors in international promos. No thanks to y'all continuing to whitewash even to this day (Bullet train, the beguiled, gods of Egypt, atla, every portrayal of Jesus ever, etc.). No thanks to y'all calling every piece of media that has more than one black lead and more than one queer couple "woke". No thanks to y'all throwing a fit every time a black person in a fantasy setting isn't a slave.

Fact of the matter is, y'all never cared about POC "getting their own stories", you're only parroting our own words back to us now as a politically correct way of saying, "leave white roles alone" lmao

Well fun fact, actors of color getting opportunities to play lead roles and allowing poc to "tell their own stories" are not mutually exclusive. If y'all cared that much, instead of bullying a 12 year old actress, you could actually support up and coming independent POC writers, directors, and studios 😱

12. Studios need to stop "setting up" actors of color:

Do me a favor and google the term DARVO.

Your racism is not the fault of the studios for giving a POC actor a role that they earned. It is not up to the rest of society to tiptoe around racists to avoid their vitriol. It is our responsibility to hold them accountable and protect minorities from unwarranted hate. At most, you can say it's the responsibility of the studios to provide adequate support to POC actors who face this backlash.

At the end of the day, Hollywood only allows very few spots for POC actors (especially WOC), while simultaneously pushing a new white boy every month to put in everything. Putting minorities in these roles that are usually closed to them, usually opens the door to more actors of color than before.

Brandy being cast as Cinderella did a lot to push her into the mainstream (yes, she was already extremely famous in the black community atp), Halle Berry being the first, black, bond girl literally shot her to icon status, and even going as far back to what Anna Mae Wong did for Asian American actresses with her "femme fatale" roles.

At the end of the day, even with the backlash, *some* rep does more good for POC actors than *no* rep. The solution to racist backlash isn't to take away those opportunities, but rather to not be racist??? 🙄

Also, for everyone that claims that "POC race-swapping" is just as bad as "white-washing", despite white washing having a longer history and objectively causing more harm, note how the backlash to white washing never lasts as long as the harassment that POC get.

Like, no one brings up Scarlett Johansson's ghost in the shell role anymore, but you can best believe Candace Patton is still fending off racist trolls. As much as people hated the atla movie, people moved on quick from Nicola Peltz playing Katara since she was just a kid that accepted the role (re: daddy bought her the role), but y'all would not have any of that consideration for Leah Sava Jeffries.

But I digress...

13. What if we made Tiana white? Wakanda white? Hazel white...:

Ah, my favorite inane point. I was so excited to get here :)

See, I could start out by pointing out how "White washing" and casting a POC actor as a traditionally white character are not equivalent.

I could point out the history of hollywood ACTIVELY excluding POC actors and POC stories. I could point out how grossly over represented white people are in hollywood. I could point out that POC characters are so few in comparison that whitewashing them causes actual harm, where white people have never lacked rep.

I could point out how, because poc characters and stories are so often tokenized that their racial/cultural background is often directly tied to their character's identity, in opposition to a lot of white characters, since hollywood treats white as the "Default".

See, I could make all those points, but the thing is, the people who make this argument already know all that. They are trying to waste time by drawing me into a pointless circular argument that will sum up to "fair is fair", while ignoring all the context and nuance I previously provided.

So you know what? Forget it. Let me play your game.

I am actually fine with a white Tiana. Would it make sense, for her and her family to experience Jim Crow era racism, in the south while white? No. But we can look past it. Disney was never known for historical accuracy anyway 🤷🏿‍♀️

However, in exchange, the live action frozen will have a black Elsa and Anna, live action Rapunzel will be black, live action Merida will be black, we're re-filming Cinderella and Beauty and the beast to cast a black belle and Cindy, snow white will need to be recast as black, and we also get aurora whenever the live action sleeping beauty is announced. But then y'all can keep Tiana, deal?

You want a white T'Challa? Fine! (I'm partial to Ryan gosling), in the meantime, we'll be recasting Iron man, Captain America (Steve version), Bruce banner, Thor, Loki, hawk eye, black widow, ant man, captain marvel, Bucky, Peter Parker etc. All the avengers and their side characters, then y'all can have Sam Wilson, war machine and the whole of Wakanda (will it make sense that a sole, hidden, African nation is randomly made up of white people? Who cares? We get the avengers!).

You want white Hazel? You got her! I hope you have no problem with us taking Percy, Nico, Will, Poseidon, Jason, calypso, Rachel, Tyson, Silena, the stoll brothers, Sally Jackson, Hades, Hepheastus, ares, etc. But y'all can have Hazel and Beckendorf.

If we're gonna do this, let's commit all the way. Fair is fair, after all.

14. Leah isn't as "pretty" as Book Annabeth/Movie Annabeth:

I wish I could say this wasn't a genuine point I had read, but when all else fails, they will always go for a woman's appearance.

Now first of all, as a rule, I will never hold black women to white beauty standards. Our hair will never be long and silky enough, our nose will never be narrow enough, our skin will never be fair enough and our eyes will never be light enough (Might I recommend Toni Morrison, when you get the chance?). But Leah is unfairly gorgeous idc what any of you say, and you're not gonna have me use my defense of Leah as an opportunity to bash Alexandra either because she is also beautiful. These two queens slayed to the best of their abilities within this toxic ass fandom.

I find it funny, however, that so many of you harped on the "blonde" issue because you thought it was important that Annabeth be seen beyond just her looks, but quickly devolve to bashing an actress's looks when it comes to why she's not right for this role 🤔

I would also like to sincerely apologize that the 13 year old girl they cast in the show, wasn't as sexually attractive to you as the 24 year old woman they cast in the movie and sexualized through like 25% of her screen time (I'm actually not sorry. You're very weird if this is an actual point for you).

15. I don't agree with sending hate to the actor, but she's just not right for the role:

Once again, what are you doing by complaining about her casting on no other basis than her race?

The creator of the character said she embodied the role. She has already been cast, and Disney would be in a legal/production hell to recast her atp. Just because you're not directly leaving comments on her social media doesn't mean you're not part of the hate mob.

No matter how you look at it, your issues with her casting come from a very entitled and narrow-minded place. When you join in on these dialogues you are bolstering a sentiment that pushes more people to harass this teenage girl. When you leave these "harmless" complaints, on show content, fan posts or posts defending her, she's liable to read them because the cast regularly interact with fans online.

What do you have to say that is so important that it trumps protecting a young girl from the long-staying trauma of racism, of being told she doesn't deserve something she worked for because of how she was born?

16. I can't even criticize the show without being called racist:

Get. Over. Yourself.

Y'all are not the victim. Have fans of the show gotten protective of Leah and the young cast? Yes.

With good reason. This fandom is unbearably toxic.

Racism outweighs your need for a "perfect adaptation", sorry.

If you explain yourself properly and keep your critiques fair (like, even I don't think this was a perfect season, and will be sharing my thoughts shortly), no one is gonna call you racist.

You're preempting with that because in all honesty, you're probably planning to use your "critiques" of the show to pivot to one of the many points that I just outlined, and you want to pre-empt the criticism.

If a black Annabeth is the end all be all for you, just don't watch the show, no one's holding a gun to your head. Geez.

17. I'm Black/POC and I don't agree...:

Hey, Candace Owens... No one gives a shit.

First of all, for all the "I'm POC and I don't agree" people, you don't speak for us. Anti-blackness is rampant in just about every culture globally. You being not-white doesn't somehow make you less prone to hating black people.

But for the "I'm black and I don't agree" leftovers (assuming you're not just a 👩🏼‍💻 behind a keyboard). Black people are not a monolith. You're not obligated to think a certain way because you're black.

But consider why you're putting yourself up as a barrier to protect this hate mob. It's one thing to just state why you don't like Leah's casting, but to start off your spiel with "I'm actually black" as a way to weaponize the very identity politics you're critiquing... very strange. Not to mention, what are you defending?

The black community is coming together to defend one of our own, a kid who has been receiving death threats since she was 12, and this is when you feel the need to back the opposition?

I mean whatever... sometimes the house slaves would snitch to the master. There will always be some of y'all in the woodwork. It is what it is.

But when the exact ideology you defend is turned against you, when a Baltimore elected official is being accused of getting his job through "DEI", when conservatives are claiming that they wouldn't "trust a black pilot", don't decide that's where you'll finally draw your line in the sand.

All that being said, This is my Annabeth:

May every tongue that rose against Leah Sava Jeffries Shrivel and die in 2025 🙏🏿 My girl will keep winning ❤️

(video by @/waleahhasmyheart on TikTok)

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i don’t think it’s talked about enough that the reason there’s a Godwyn ending where he becomes a Lord (not a God) is because symbolically, he was mirroring Godfrey in more than just name.

Godwyn’s alive body sprouting fish tail and scales isn’t just a random design choice, it’s a reference to Confucius' The Book of Rites, where it’s stated that the subjugation of the Four Divine Beasts will grant the person who tamed them different kind of control:

- Dragon -> control over animals with scales (specifically, FISH. See?)

- Qilin (Lion) -> control over beasts (think of how the Hornsent coveting the power of the Crucibles via the lion dance ritual. The “lion” in lion dance is Qilin in the native language of Asian countries that celebrate that tradition. And it’s why Godfrey’s symbol is a lion, why lion imagery plays such important role in Elden Ring world)

- Phoenix -> control over birds

- Turtle -> control over the heart of men (this might be a reach but Miquella’s connection to the Carian family and thus, the Turtle Pope could be a nice parallel to this)

in Godfrey’s cut dialogues, he said “Dearest Marika is precisely what I must take back” and “Dear Marika, do not fear. I am returned.”, and even without all that, The Talisman of Lord’s Bestowal stated that Godfrey accepted his duty without any sign of wavering, even taking Serosh upon his back so he could conduct himself as a Lord worthy of her. Bro, he loves that girl, he passed Messmer’s vibe check with flying colors.

For Godwyn to be a fruit of such a loving union, i do think Godfrey instilled in him a sense of duty to protect his Mother, and there’s his own love and devotion to her as well. Leyndell Knights all use Dragon Cult incantations and buffs - the kind of power that is only available to them because Godwyn befriended Fortissax (which is why i said that move has an ulterior motive to it).

All of that brings me to this main point I’m trying to make: does Godwyn really that devoid of agency?

I see it’s a popular interpretation in the fandom that oh Godwyn was just a symbol, he had no voice, we never knew what he wanted, etc etc… Do we really not know though?

Sorry for slapping another fandom on this, but this is really relevant to my understanding of Elden Ring as a story, even with the base written by a Western author, was developed by a Japanese team of storytellers and designers:

The concept of soul - body and body snatching etc etc exists a lot in Asian media, and there’s always a general consensus that the body remembers even as the soul perishes. What is Godwyn’s body is doing? The game specifically states that his body is alive. He only perishes in soul.

He was infesting the Erdtree’s roots, spreading Death around like free real estate. If he wanted to let go of life, of his Mother, his body should have just let go on its own. But no, he was tenaciously clinging to the Erdtree, to Marika.

Even Fortissax remembrance stated that despite its best effort, it could not fight back the Death within its friend. If Godwyn really, truly wanted to embrace a true death, would his body just let Fortissax fight alone in an uphill battle like that?

Then there is the DLC revealed that Godwyn’s personal knights were in LoS to find and guard his cadaver surrogate, specifically for the Age of the Duskborn. Their helm stated that their loyalty to him is unbroken. So will they just go and do something that their Master would not want?

These Knights are literally an elite circle that was bestowed the most precious of jewels in Godfrey’s time (the +3 medallions), they aren’t merely good, they are the very best. They are Godwyn’s inner circle the same way the Fire Knights are said to be the ones who know Messmer best.

Even if you think Fia and Those Who Lived in Death were just taking advantage of Godwyn’s death… her endgame goal technically did not even succeed. She wanted to be Mother to TWLiD, but the ending very much shows that the Mending Rune was returned to Marika’s womb. It’s her who would birth Godwyn a second life, so the True Mother™ to TWLiD… would actually be Marika 💀

Like, am i the only one who saw this as some real crazy 4D chess Uno reverse move from Godwyn? Oh these ppl wanted to get rid of him then took advantage of his body? Fine, he would take that challenge and run a mile with it. If Age of Duskborn came, it meant Ranni didn’t succeed, Fia didn’t actually get to be Mother of TWLiD, Death - the very thing that Marika tried to seal, would now be something within her control, because Godwyn is its Lord now. Exactly like how the Dragons’ power became something wielded in Marika’s favor in the end. Thanks to him.

In the Duskborn ending, bro, the God would still be Marika. It’s the only possible new Age involving a demigod that doesn’t get rid of her. Even if it utilize heretical powers to get there.

And the crazier thing? This is not the first time Fromsoft did this, btw.

[essaytime]

A lot of productions (or production ideas) for Romeo and Juliet come up with elaborate aesthetics for both of the feuding families, and there is definitely a charm as well as a large degree of blessed creativity to this, but honestly, the more I think about the play, the more I feel the most resounding choice with me, given the play's meaning, would be to make the Montagues and the Capulets' costumes very, very similar. Almost identical - the same silhouettes, materials, everything. Have the only thing signalling which family it is be a ribbon or band tied around the arm, a particular embellishment at the collar of a dress or shirt, maybe some item of clothing that's easy to take off, like a vest or small cape, or a scarf. Maybe aside from the Lords and Ladies of both surnames, they could wear something that's entirely in their family's chosen colours/symbols, but the rest of the family and their supporters? Just these details. Because that's really one of the things that hit so hard in the text: there is literally no reason for the feud. There's no logically existing divide. We have two influential families of equal standing, who live by the same customs, whose children probably have the same education, who employ people with the same mindset and themselves presumably have the same mindset. They could very well live beside each other, they could very well switch places and be each other. These poor teenagers in Romeo and Juliet are forced to live in a world shaped by something that just doesn't exist. And they're mistreated, and they struggle, and they die - at more or less fourteen or fifteen! - for something that doesn't exist. Because at this point there is no reason to go on with this conflict, if there even was one in the first place, which I doubt. I think there is a lot of sense in the fact that we never learn why the Capulets despise the Montagues and vice versa. I wouldn't be surprised if during the time of the play there was just no one that could remember it. But still, this conflict, this absolutely empty, pointless, senseless conflict, wrecks the community of Verona, pitting citizens against each other and leading to innocent kids dying. And I think if I were directing the play, that's the thing I would emphasise: that they are really the same. Have Lord Montague make a similar scream, speak in a similar tone mourning his son as Lord Capulet did mourning his daughter. Have the servants at the beginning of the play use exactly the same gestures and mannerisms. Have the dear uninvited party-sneakers get along with Capulet youth at the ball and genuinely have fun together. And have the citizens at the end be all the same in their surprise and grief, virtually indistinguishable save for this ribbon or embellishment they can just rip off of their costume, becoming one whole crowd. All of these people could pass each other, say hello, gossip on the street with no problem - if it weren't for these details that somehow make them part of two different entities. For there is no border between the Capulets and the Montagues other than the artificial one they try to create themselves. And people die for it.

[blondwhxrewrites]

Hello! This is my first time writing in and I just want you to know how much I love love love your blog!!

I was wondering if you’ve ever written anything about brothersbestfriend!Mattheo. I just imagine he’d feel super guilty at first, fooling around with his best friend’s sister. Maybe he’d try to break it off but reader would get all sad and pouty, insisting that her brother will never find out.

Whether the reader is biologically related or adopted is up to you. I also did not intend for it to be this long—ANOTHER ADDITION TO THE PRINCESS MULTIVERSE

Oh my god—You being Theo's pretty younger sister and Mattheo just being absolutely obsessed with you!!! He always thought you were interesting. You've always just kind of been there, kind of tucked in a corner, watching as he, Theo, and Draco played together. You were weird in your own little quirky way—quiet, introverted, but not shy. No, you weren't at all shy, just simply quiet. 

Mattheo always felt drawn to you in a way he really couldn't understand. You two just coexisted with each other, and it stayed that way until his sixth year, when you suddenly became 'beautiful' in the eyes of society. He always knew you were gorgeous, the most beautiful girl he had ever met, but now other boys and even some girls were starting to realize it too. The whole Slytherin gang becomes your impromptu guards on the orders of Theodore Nott. Suddenly, Mattheo is walking you to all of your classes and being forced to watch over you at parties—and that's when it really starts to go downhill for him.

You're the most wonderful being to ever exist, and holy shit, does it hit Mattheo HARD. You tend to ramble about the weirdest things like human anatomy, and your army of stuffed animals, and he's just nodding along admiring you like you're some sort of goddess. You give him little trinkets as gifts and he has a whole entire box full of them because he wouldn't ever dare throw them away. He's in love—there's no denying it. He'd done the one thing he swore he would never do...he fell for his best friend's sister. You immediately notice because, A, you've been watching Mattheo your whole life, and B, you know how to read people like a book. So, being the little shit you secretly are, you one day put on your prettiest outfit and waltz on down to one of the infamous Slytherin get-togethers, which is basically just a secret rave with how intense they can get. 

Of course, Theo is huffing and puffing while being forced to watch his little sister flirt with some random girl and Mattheo—oh dear lord he is FUMING. At that point, he knows you know because the whole entire time you're sending him little glances and faux innocent smiles.

You're strewn across his bed, crying and whining as he brutally thrusts into you not even caring if you're a virgin or not because you had the absolute audacity to be a brat and he made sure you were absolutely okay with him being rough beforehand. He's whispering just the NASTIEST things into your ear. 'yeah—you like being fucked by your brothers best friend? If I had known you were such a slut I would've done this a lot earlier' His hand is wrapped around your throat, he's got you in doggy style, pressing your head down against the mattress and watching your eyes roll back. Your cunt is just gushing around him and he knows if he doesn't stop he's gonna become addicted to your pussy—which isn't really saying a lot since he's already addicted to you. By the time he's done with you you've cum more times then you can count and you are one second from just passing out.

It's like his whole entire personality switches because he's suddenly cooing sweet praises as he cleans you both up. He's pressing soft kisses to your lips as he tells you just how much he adores you, and Mattheo just knows he can't let this go—he can't let you go. He eventually, and very hesitantly, lets you go back to your dorm after making extra sure nobody is around.

That night, he just stays up, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He's in a messy situation and he knows it, but honestly he doesn't really seem to care about how Theo would react if he ever found out about you two. In fact, the next day he pulls Theo into an empty classroom and locks the door. Theo doesn't even have time to react before Mattheo just spills everything. He could've ranted about his love for you for hours on end, and he's prepared to do that—that is, until Theo yells at him to shut up and is like, 'Mate, I knew this would eventually happen, so I've had years to prepare myself for this. My sister has been in love with you for years, and I'm sick of it, so please, for the love of Merlin, just take care of her and we are good.'

You are in your dorm reading about how bodies rot over time when Mattheo just busts in and grabs your book, placing it down, and kisses you silly. 'You're mine' he states as if you don't have a choice in the matter—and you really don't. The rest of your day is just spent in your dorm with him in blissful domestic peace.

Theo can finally rest in peace because HOLY SHIT—Mattheo is as dumb as rocks because how the fuck did it take him LITERAL years to realize he has feelings for you 😐

[violenteconomics]

For thr vacation fund au and rsa exchange program thingy majigy au, please hear me out hear me out-

Imagine tge first years come back to nrc (or not idk) and then for their vacation fund they make a host club or rent-a-date (rent-a-friend for ortho or smth)

Like ramshackle is their hq and ljke what you said they originally became famous bc of the poster with bad marker quality, several malleus stickers and deuce's thirst trap photo, but the customers do find other favorites besides deuce (but hes still the most popular- like tamaki but he has no idea what hes doing lol)

And then the rsa LI hearing abt this (either from gossip or soxial media you do yiu) and then they become regulars at the nrc first years host club

(Then the seniors catxhing wind of this dear Lord may they have mercy on the rsa students)

anything 4 u, baby.

PFFFFFT-- O M G YASSSS COMBINING THE RSA TRIP WITH THE VACATION FUND IS GENIUS, THIS IS THE SPIN OFF WHERE THE FIRST-YEARS START NRC'S FIRST HOST CLUB TO PAY FOR THEIR VACATION!!! the idea that the shitty poster still makes people endlessly thirsty is so funny to me lol.

deuce is the kind, understanding date, who has a big heart but can also protect you if need be. he's literally a dreamboat come to life. the only downside is that the client has to plan their dates -- otherwise, deuce might actually take them to an egg farm, lol.

ace is the quote unquote "fun" one, who is down to literally anything as long as it's entertaining enough. polar opposite of deuce, in that he's GREAT at date-planning, and he's the second-highest in terms of ratings.

epel and yuu are a "double date" sort of deal, where yuu's simple charm and understanding personality contrasts very greatly with epel's more "rough-and-tumble" approach to life. epel is THIS close to cursing out the waitress for giving you lobster in your meal even though you specifically asked them not to because your allergic, meanwhile yuu keeps epel from making a scene (but is simultaneously calling in a favor from azul to sue this place to the ground, lol).

i honestly can't imagine sebek or jack ever agreeing to do this, but if they were somehow blackmailed into it (or drawn to the compel of more money to put into their vacation fund), it would be the most tsundere thing in existence--

AND ORTHO HAS HIS OWN LITTLE "RENT-A-FRIEND" BOOTH IN THE CORNER AHHHHHHH (he's basically taken over yuu's position as the therapist friend, fr fr)

AND THE RSA LIS HEARING ABOUT THIS MMMMMMMM. i mean, most of them are royalty, so they have enough money to basically monopolize all of the first-years' time. and the freshmen kind of actually like going out with the LIs more than anybody else, just because they know them better than random nrc strangers.)

(of course, the seniors are still stalking them from the bushes, fire spells and knives prepared in case they need them.)

(ace wipes some ice cream off song's face, and riddle has to be held down by both vil and malleus to keep him from decapitating the both of them right then and there for their indecency)

[dumbkiri]

𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚 3

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Please follow part 3 of Helaena!! AI love the character so much and I find almost nothing of her, the reader and Balerion have me ecstatic too!! You make art! Thank you for your attention :(

Yes! Please have Rhaenys and [Name] kill Aemond in the next part! On my hands and knees begging! Save The Queen Who Never Was!!

I apologize for the dragon fighting. I watched S2EP4 like 5 million times to describe dragon fighting, but my brain no work with that. As stated before, I am NOT familiar with GOT or HOTD (watched in once years ago), this is all made on the fly for a dear reader. So I apologize if it's "stupid" or terrible writing. But I will continue to write this for others that enjoy this series. Thank you for following along on this new journey.

There's also a sneak peek to a Targaryen x Stark story in the future....Sansa deserves love too.

The crackling of fire and the ocean waves crashing at the bottom of the cliff filled his ears along with the breeze combing through his hair. And the voice from the fire, which he normally heard on occasion, had been quiet for a long time. Tonight had to be different because of the strong need to light a fire in the night. 

Before Rhaegar died, the Lord of Light spoke to [Name] many times. Made the father devoted to his children because one of them was going to have a son powerful enough to defend the North from the long night. [Name] thought Rhaegar would have been the one to have that son. 

Obviously, he misinterpreted the Lord of Light. The son could come from Viserys’ line or maybe [Name] would have to have more children with Helaena to secure the prophecy from the god. Still, the voices stopped after Rhaegar. He thought he must have failed the god, disappointed the deity because he did not protect Rhaegar. Or get revenge for his fallen son. 

“I heard that you speak to the fire, uncle.”

[Name] lifted his head from the burning fire and saw Jacaerys making his way over to the edge of the cliff where he sat by his lonesome. 

A chuckle slipped past [Name]’s lips and he swept his legs over the edge of the cliff. “I speak to the Lord of Light, nephew,” His response was quick and to the point. Some people like his brothers described [Name] and Helaena to be odd; one spoke to the fire and the other spoke in cryptic messages. Aegon would tease and say that they were a special couple. The word special did not come from the heart, but Aegon’s way of saying simple. 

“I’m not sure I heard of that god before, it’s not any of the Old gods or even the Seven,” Jace pointed out expertly while taking his seat, the same way his uncle did, the small fire between them. 

“You’re right,” [Name] looked out towards the sea, the moonlight casting a blue hue onto the calm water, “I only experienced his existence in Essos when a Red Priest spoke to me with her alluring tongue.”

Jace snapped his head at [Name] and asked daringly, “Alluring? Did she get you in bed with her too?” 

“What?” [Name] leaned back in offense then looked over at his family member, “I’m hopelessly obsessed with Helaena, Jace. I’m devoted to her and her body, no one else can satisfy me, not that I would want them too.” The man turned to the fire when a stick broke in half. Lead Jace into the fire, let him see. [Name] felt a strong pull at his chest and his eyes drew over to his nephew when he spoke up. 

“So a red woman showed you her god and now you serve him?” 

“That’s not how I started serving him,” [Name] admitted quietly, thinking back to the night of his commitment. The vision he saw in the fire, the voices he heard all convinced him to serve the red god. “She found me tending to Balerion’s teeth after a battle with some assassins. I don’t like the smell of burning bodies, especially ones that linger between his molars.”

As [Name] told his story, the fire subtly grew hotter between the males. 

…

“Open wide, Balerion,” [Name] walked in front of his grumpy dragon with a bucket of sea water and a shirt from one of the dead men on the beach. Balerion huffed into [Name]’s face and turned away from the human with a disinterested groan. 

Reeling back in disgust from the smell, [Name] covered his nose with his forearm and pointed at his dragon with his free hand. Voice muffled, but loud, [Name] shouted, “Where are your manners? I’m doing a nice thing for Dreamfyre and myself! No living thing wants to smell your tarnished breath!” 

[Name] set the pale down and approached his dragon with a tired look on his face. He was warned about traveling to Essos for pleasure, but he wanted to get out of the castle. He wanted to stop hearing schemes and breathe for once. The air he caught flying was enough to fill his lungs and cleanse them. 

Yet one last stop on the beach almost got him killed. 

“Your dragon is very beautiful.” A woman’s voice startled the dragon and the rider, both snapping their heads to see the new person on the beach. She wore a red dress with her long dark hair cascading down the front of her chest. She held no weapon to his knowledge and her hands were placed in front of her. 

Balerion’s throat clicked in unease and he lifted his head off the sand, some grains falling onto [Name]’s defensive stance. 

“Give me one good reason why I should command my dragon not to burn you like I did the rest?” [Name] asked, his bloody hand gripping onto the handle of his sword. Skeptical of the woman, he didn’t let his guard down. If she was the one that sent the assassins, he would drag her by the hair and drown her in the sea. 

The woman in red smirked and answered, “I am not your enemy, Prince [Name]. I came here to help you realize your potential in the upcoming war between your families. You are to be a formidable ally, one that can bring balance.”

[Name] scrutinized her and gently commanded Balerion to stand down. His beast chuffed and set his head down back onto the sand. Then [Name] looked at the bucket of water, dunking the shirt into it. 

In his crouched position, [Name] began his interrogation, “Upcoming war between my families? There is no war, my lady. What are you insinuating?”

He noticed she was staring at his sad campfire and she asked quietly, “Your fire has dwindled, might I rekindle it?” 

“I asked you a question,” [Name] stood up and wringed the shirt of excess water, “answer it.”

The red woman nodded her head and approached his campfire, she messed with the stick and dry grass, explaining, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, my prince, but your father has passed away. With his dying breath, he told your mother that he wanted Aegon to inherit the throne. She-”

“Aegon?” [Name] scoffed and his face scrunched up in confusion, “That’s not right at all. My father has always wanted my sister to have the throne, for many years he’s always been adamant that Rhaenyra succeed him. Even if he suddenly changed his mind, why would it be Aegon and not me, the oldest, to inherit it?” 

The campfire burst into flames and [Name] looked at the woman who conjured up fire with only her hands. She looked into the fire and said, “Your mother believes otherwise, insisting that your father spoke Aegon’s name. The Hightowers have usurped the throne and war will follow in the days to come.”

[Name] rested his hand on the upper lip of Balerion and paused for a second. Aemond was going to be crowned King, taking the throne away from their father’s true successor Rhaenyra. His mother, Alicent, couldn’t be this dull to really believe he said that on his deathbed. Even when he and his brother were born, Viserys never named either of them heir. 

“My prince, please join me by the fire, I have something to show you,” The red woman’s voice spoke smoothly and [Name] blinked his eyes to focus back onto the beach. As if he was entranced by the color of the fire and the warmth from Balerion, [Name] removed his hand from the dragon. 

He walked over to the woman and Balerion groaned in protest, watching his rider carefully. The beast didn’t trust the red woman yet and it showed when he bared his teeth as the woman reached for his rider. She moved her hands back and smiled at the dragon letting the beast know she won’t lay a finger on his rider. 

“Look into the fire and tell me what you see.” 

[Name] kneeled down on one knee and did as he was told. He felt completely different from the fire. He saw images of a long winter, a sword of fire, a white dragon that breathed blue fire and a boy from his line in the future. Then he saw people made of ice with blue eyes, a marriage with a Stark girl,  and the long night that engulfed the north. 

“Do you see now, my prince,” The red woman whispered in his ear, “you must return home and protect your family at all costs. Protect them so that the Dragon in the North can be born. Without him, the Prince That Was Promised will fall.”

…..

“A Prince That Was Promised, huh,” Jace huffed in question and playfully joked, “If a woman like her whispered in my ears like that, I would follow her god too.” 

[Name] laughed and patted his sword next to the campfire and finished off with, “Then she blessed my sword with his power too. But I believe he wants you to see something as well. Look into the fire, nephew.” 

Jace awkwardly laughed and shifted on the balls of his palms, “I think I’m alright, uncle.” 

“Are you afraid?” [Name] furrowed an eyebrow and smirked, “Don’t tell me the heir to the throne is afraid of a vision in the fire. I suspected my nephew to be braver than that.” 

“Fine,” Jace grumbled and looked into the fire, seeing small embers fly into the dark sky. The seventeen year old only wanted to amuse his half-uncle by doing what he wanted him to do. He had no real incentive to do it, but he was curious to see if the red god was real or if his uncle really was crazy. 

The fire reflected in Jace’s eyes and [Name] saw the twists and snaps in the reflection. Jace’s lips parted open to speak what he saw in the fire, shocked to see the vision come to life in the flames. 

“I see the North, there is an alliance to be made and an oath to keep.”

[Name] hummed in thought while Jace blinked his eyes trying to peer more into the flames. 

“And I see-”

A huge gust of wind blew the fire out as Balerion roared past the men, Dreamfyre tailing her mate close by with a replying call. Jace ducked down immediately while [Name] laughed at the cowering position of his nephew. He fixed his clothing and his hair from the flyby, still laughing at the glare he received from Jace. 

“Apologies,” [Name] cleared his throat and picked himself up from the floor, reaching a hand out to the teenager. “Balerion likes to announce his arrival, I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Jace asked, taking the offered hand and stood up with the help of it. 

“From miles away,” [Name] answered, a grin on his face. 

Jace wiped his clothes off and sighed, “A warning won’t hurt next time.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” [Name] chuckled and followed after his fuming nephew with lighthearted apologies. 

Jace was soft of grateful to have his half-uncle at Dragonstone for many reasons. He looked up to [Name] when they were younger and admired Balerion from afar, too scared to ever approach the dragon. But [Name] tried to help Jace get over his fear of the Dread. 

[Name] never questioned his or Luke’s legitimacy either, claiming that his twin and younger brother were green monsters. That Aemond envied their claim to the throne. 

[Name] was a role model, perfect son of Viserys the Peaceful. The calm and deadly rider of Balerion. Nothing was truly bad about him. 

“He’s a cunt.”

“You shouldn’t speak that way about him, our greatest ally,” Rhaenyra scolded Daemon, the council members having a small meeting about their newest arrival to Dragonstone. While the Hightower-Targaryens found sleep, the meeting concluded with the Targaryen family. 

“He didn’t even demand my head or retribution for the death of his son,” Daemon growled out. 

Rhaenys shook her head and made eye contact with the ill-tempered man, “No, he barely acknowledged your name. He thinks differently of the whole situation.” 

“How so?” Corlys was also dumbfounded by [Name]’s sudden alliance with Rhaenyra. He also found it odd that [Name] didn’t want Daemon to suffer any consequences. 

“[Name] puts the blame on his mother and her sworn protector Cole for the death of Rhaegar. He sees Daemon’s order as revenge for Aemond killing Lucerys and-” Rhaneys faltered trying to find the right words to describe [Name]’s motive for all of this, “he believes Rhaegar’s death to be collateral. You weren’t after [Name]’s son, were you?” 

Daemon looked around the table and shook his head, “No. Not Rhaegar.”

“So you just proved him right,” Rhaenys continued on, “killing you or demanding any punishment from you will not bring him his son back. He’s learned that from you trying to avenge Lucerys. And he knows deep down that Rhaenyra is the rightful queen. He of all people should know that because he supported Rhaenyra’s claim along with Viserys.”

Jace nodded his head and vouched for his half-uncle, “[Name] has no desire for the crown even grandfather knew that. He never snickered behind my back or saw himself above me, never dished out the word ‘bastard’ like his brothers did.”

“He should hate me,” Daemon spat, “I killed his son!” 

Everyone looked at Daemon with wide eyes from his outburst and Rhaenyra breathed out of her nose. She knew what ate away at her husband. 

“Daemon, we know you feel guilty over the death of Rhaegar. Maybe this is [Name]’s punishment for you, to receive no punishment or consequences. To let you live on with innocent blood on your hands, to let you think of what you’ve done.” 

Daemon looked up at his wife and glowered at her, “If I had Balerion, I would have melted this castle down to its bones, burning every person alive in here.” 

Rhaneys straightened out her back and calmly replied, “Luckily [Name] knows how to use his authority on his dragon.”

Jace watched the back of [Name]’s head as he slowed down his pace to the castle. He didn’t know why, but Jace wanted to. 

“[Name], I’m sorry about your loss. I-I know how it feels to lose someone, not a child, but a brother.” 

Jace saw [Name] stop in his path and the young man turned around with a blank expression on his face. Perhaps Jace should have not said anything regarding Rhaegar, but [Name] spoke up with a soft voice. 

“Aegon wanted me to burn you all and Otto wanted to put the blame on Rhaenyra having the people dub her as ‘The Cruel’. But I know my sister, your mother, she’s just like our father with a bit more spirit in her soul. I could never burn the true successor to the throne and if I have to make my family bend the knee with the power of Balerion, I will.” 

[Name] looked up at the dark blue sky and said, “Rhaegar’s death opened my eyes and I’ve ignored the warnings from the red god. This time I will do anything for my family. Now come on, we can grieve together in the solitude of the castle walls.”

……

The next day, [Name] saw Rhaenyra’s dragon from afar, returning from her sudden trip to who knows where. Balerion noticed the golden dragon in the bright sun and called out in greeting to which Syrax replied with a screech of her own. Smiling softly at the interaction, [Name] commanded Balerion to do one last circle around his area. 

Rhaenyra watched in awe as she rode her dragon, seeing the Dread patrolling the skies in all his dark imagery. Larger than any dragon she has ever seen, she was hopeful that Balerion and [Name] were on her side. Especially after the conversation with his mother. 

She wanted [Name] to join in on the council meeting to discuss what was spoken too. To see if he had any advice of what his family could plan against her. So she urged Syrax to call for Balerion knowing that [Name] would catch on to the call. 

The golden dragon moved her head side to side and let out a high pitched bellow to signal the black dragon to come back. 

When [Name] heard Syrax’s call, he sighed and commanded Balerion to land on the beach where the black dragon made his nest.  Swiftly, he took his black helmet off and began climbing down the ropes tied to his mount. Balerion grumbled then rested his head on the sand with a huff. 

“Get some rest, Balerion,” [Name] took his gloves off next and placed his helmet next to his dragon, “we have tomorrow’s patrol as well.” 

As if responding to his rider, Balerion's chest rumbled in agreement, the dragon closing his eyes for that much needed rest. Although, the black dragon did want to go on a hunt with his rider. 

[Name] watched Syrax fly into the cave and he started making his long trek up to the castle. One of the cons of having a large dragon, you have to walk everywhere because it cannot sleep in a cave with other dragons. When [Name] was halfway to the castle, he saw a familiar red dragon fly out of the cave. 

“Princess Rhaenys?” [Name] mumbled then hurried up the steps to see what was wrong. 

When he made his way up to the council meeting, he spotted Rhaenyra looking pale and solemn. Helaena was by her side nodding to the words Rhaenyra spoke to her. Fearing that Rhaenyra was asking Helaena to fly out on Dreamfyre he interrupted the queen. 

“Your Grace,” [Name] huffed and briskly made his way over to his wife. He set a hand on Helaena’s shoulder and said, “Send me, you promised me that Helaena wouldn’t have to fly Dreamfyre.” 

Rhaenyra moved her eyes to [Name] and shook her head, “I was only giving Helaena some comfort, brother. Rhaenys is flying out to Rook’s Rest to provide backup to Lord Stuanton. There’s a possibility of her encountering Vhagar which is why you need to fly out with her. Now.” No time for goodbyes when Rhaneys was already flying out there. 

[Name] looked down at Helaena and her eyes glistened with a teary goodbye. 

“At once, Your Grace,” [Name] bowed his head at Rhaenyra and planted a quick kiss at the crown of Helaena’s head. Then he turned around demanding someone to give him a horse so he could ride out to Balerion. 

Helaena watched her husband disappear out of sight and she looked up at Rhaenyra, “I know he’ll come back, but…the cost of Rook’s Rest would be far too great. It’s never a good thing to fight amongst blood.” 

Rhaenyra looked away from the entrance and sighed. Helaena was right, odd as she may be. 

……

[Name] had Balerion glide right above the sea water, knowing that if he had his dragon fly any higher than that, they would be spotted quickly. His heart raced in his chest and [Name] prepared his mind to fight his brother, Aemond. His biggest foe and greatest enemy now. 

Aegon would never be on the battlefield just like Rhaenyra cause both parties were too important to be sent to battle. So he willed Balerion to fly faster to help Rhaenys against the green monstrosity that would soon come to Rook Rest. 

Upon seeing the cliff Rook’s Rest was planted on, [Name] saw Meleys fighting a very family light pink and golden dragon. Eyes wide in surprise [Name] urged Balerion to fly faster seeing the blood of Sunfyre rain down on the earth. 

“Aderī, Balerion,” [Name] shouted and the dragon grumbled in response. Then when they approached the cliff [Name] commanded Balerion to fly upwards parallel to the mountainside. The Lord of Rook’s Rest and his men felt a huge gust of wind blow them forward and turned around to see a giant dark beast rise into the sky with a thunderous roar. (qᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ)

High in the sky, [Name] spotted Vhagar flying her way towards the engaged Meleys and Sunfyre. “Naejot, Balerion,” The dragon rider growled in frustration seeing the highly focused gaze on Aemond’s face. (ᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈ)

Meanwhile, Aegon held onto his mount hearing the painful cries leave Sunfyre’s throat. His ears shattered upon the noise that brought him sorrow. His mind racing a mile and his heart about to burst from his chest. That was until he heard the greatest roar in history rumble in the sky. His head snapped to the left and he saw Vhagar flying over to him with a determined Aemond on her back. 

“Thank the gods!” Aemond cried in relief, but that relief was washed away. The look on Aemond’s face, it wasn’t a look of help, but a demand for blood and death. 

“Dracarys!” Aemond shouted, the command Vhagar didn’t hesitate to defy. 

Rhaenys and Aegon looked at the impending doom, both bracing themselves for the fire building up in the back of Vhagar’s throat as their dragons fought amongst each other. 

Yet a desperate and willful demand shouted above Vhagar’s gurgling throat, “angōs, Balerion!” The black dread opened his mouth wide, snapping hard onto Vhagar’s flappy throat disrupting the line of fire. Vhagar roared out in pain while Aemond held tighter onto his mount, glaring at his brother who commanded Balerion to fly higher into the sky with Vhagar in his clutches. 

But they were already too close to the earth for the command to have any merit, so he watched. 

[Name] held onto his mount and watched Balerion hold onto Vhagar’s throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. Both large dragons took the show away from the smaller ones and [Name] couldn’t afford to look at Rhaenys when their biggest threat was in his grasp. 

Before Balerion could sustain any injuries from Vhagar’s talons, [Name] ordered his dragon to back away. Not wanting to spoil his attack, Balerion swished his head tearing into Vhagar’s throat a bit more then kicked the green dragon to the earth. Balerion spread his wings wide parallel to the ground and glided over the burning men and fallen dragon with a victory cry, his tail smacking into some men running away.

The Black Dread took to the skies and [Name] turned around to see Sunfyre succumb to his injuries from Meleys. The golden dragon cried out with a high pitched screech before hitting the forest ground in silence and a puff of fire. [Name] cringed and turned away from the tragic scene. This was all happening too fast, Balerion had years of battle experience, but he didn’t. Neither did Aegon or Sunfyre.

Aegon couldn’t have survived that fall, he thought. It wasn’t possible. While distracted, an attack from Vhagar happened upon Balerion who roared out waking up [Name] from his stupor. He looked to his left and saw a small chunk of Balerion’s right shoulder blade in Vhagar’s mouth. 

Quickly he held onto his reins with one hand and the other pulled Hellfire from its sheath. [Name] with strong legs, stood on his mount and began slicing at Vhagar’s saggy skin. The flames ate away at her flesh wounds. 

“Damn traitor!” 

[Name] ignored Aemond’s angered yell at him, for he was too focused trying to get Balerion help. 

“I’ll kill you right here! And force Helaena back home, to fight with her true family!” 

Hellfire burned brighter and [Name] stabbed Vhagar in her puffy cheek. Then he dragged his sword downwards to his mount forcing Vhagar to release Balerion because this fiery pain in her mouth was too much to bear. 

Vhagar bellowed into the ash covered sky and [Name] demanded that Balerion dive down to escape from Vhagar’s talons. With a tactical retreat, Balerion flew away just in time for Rhaenys to strike a critical blow onto Vhagar. 

Meleys attacked from behind and tore at Vhagar’s left wing causing the green dragon to breathe out fire into the sky. The Queen Who Never Was ended Aegon and Sunfyre, and now [Name] needed to pull his weight and end Vhagar. 

 [Name]’s heartbeat echoed in his head and he pulled Balerion back into the fight. If Aemond didn’t bring up Helaena in the fight, he would have left Rhaenys to claim the victory of killing Vhagar. 

But Aemond was his now. Brother or not, you do not threaten his wife. Rhaenys saw the Black Dread making his way over with strong beats of his large wings. That look on [Name]’s face said everything she needed to know and she had Meleys release Vhagar, flying high into the sky to see the end of the Green’s Dragons at Rook’s Rest. 

“Dracarys!” 

His commanding voice sent shivers down Rhaenys’ spine and for the first time, she actually witnessed black fire shooting out of Balerion’s throat. Even at the safe distance she was at, the heat from it was too much. 

Vhagar gave out a defeated bellow falling into the sea like a black fireball. A huge splash resounded in their ears and Rhaneys landed Meleys on top of Rook’s Rest looking down at the burning battlefield. Lord Staunton looked up at the princess and carefully asked, “Is it over?” 

Rhaenys breathed in and out watching the aftermath of four dragons fighting. She and [Name] just ended the war in one battle. Balerion and Meleys, injured yet fearlessly fighting with their riders, ended the lives of two dragons. Suddenly Balerion landed on the burning field and roared at the usurper’s men. 

One by one, men started surrendering with their weapons falling from their hands. Green banners left to be stomped on and she could hear some men whimper at the sight of the victorious dragons. 

“Yes, Lord Staunton,” Rhaneys breathed out, “It is over.” Her eyes dragged over and saw a paranoid [Name] on his mount. She unhooked herself from her mount and Meleys moved a wing down to Balerion's back.

Meanwhile [Name] tried to catch his breath, but his chest felt like it could explode. His grip on Hellfire loosened and he pounded at his heart with an ache. His throat closed up and his vision got blurry. 

“[Name], relax!” 

The adult male blinked the tears away and saw a clear vision of Rhaenys holding onto his shoulders. She must have jumped onto Balerion from Meleys with great expertise. 

“You need to calm down, breathe.”

She softly demanded, her face covered in ash morphed into worry as he said, “My own brothers, I killed them. My own blood.” 

Rhaenys’ eyes softened at his turmoil. “Aemond, you saw him,” She tried to reason with him, “he would have burned Aegon were it not for you. You stopped Aemond and his tyranny, no one would blame you for doing that. And I killed Aegon, not you. You’d be wise to remember that you fight for Rhaenyra’s claim, you support the rightful heir. No one is going to call you a kinslayer.” 

[Name] sucked in a deep breath and his shoulder slug forward in defeat despite winning a great battle for Rhaenyra. This happened all too fast and ended so quickly. Nothing was going to make him feel better right now. 

“Princess Rhaenys and Prince [Name]!” 

A voice shouted from the castle, it was Lord Staunton. 

“The Hightowers have fled with their remaining men and there is no sight of Aegon, but his dragon has succumbed to its wounds. Shouldn’t we chase them down on dragonback and horses?” 

Rhaenys looked back at the male adult in her arms and shouted back, “No! For now, we take this win and wait for Queen Rhaenyra’s orders on what to do next. Prepare Prince [Name] a hot bath and a meal. He fought well against his usurper brothers, it’s what you must do for him. And send a raven to Queen Rhaenyra. We have news to tell her.” 

News, [Name] thought. She didn't describe it as good news for the Queen. His brothers deaths were definitely good news for the blacks. Although for him, it was just news.

...........................................................

MUSIC THAT INSPIRED THIS CHAPTER

There Will Be No Mercy - Ramin Djawadi

Rook's Rest, Pt 2 - Ramin Djawadi

The Red Woman - Ramin Djawadi

[avelera]

Christ, I can’t even imagine what the takes would be if, like, “Titanic” came out today. “What did Jack do to deserve to die?” “Why was the narrative punishing Jack by making him die?” “The story is clearly problematic because Jack died instead of Cal.”

Like holy shit, sometimes characters die because it’s tragic. Because the creators are trying to make you feel something. Because fiction isn’t always about some Calvinist view of a character deserving their fate because all stories are meant to be one big religious passion play about who deserves to go to heaven and be redeemed or whatever and who we’re allowed to stone to death.

Sometimes it’s narratively unjust because you’re meant to be pained and outraged and feel a gaping hole in your heart wherein resides emotions you might never experience in day to day life because the whole point of fiction is to take you outside your everyday experience.

(And for the record, I’m sure those takes on Titanic would have existed if it corresponded with the existence of Twitter but thankfully I was blissfully unaware of all that because I was ten years old. Still. Dear lord, people.)

[celebrimbormylove]

Sounds Beyond the Night

Hi, this is my first fic here and I think the rest of my works will continue to be about Celebrimbor as I am hopelessly in love with him. Anyways, enjoy!!! Let me know what you think of it!!!

Thank you @morganas-pendragons for being my sounding board <3

~ Kez

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“A sound so beautiful, it could make your heart race. Do you think such a thing exists?”

His words echoed in your mind while you were practicing an old piece of music. As a young elf, you enjoyed playing the flute whenever you had free time. This, unfortunately, stopped when you became old enough to truly immerse yourself in your studies, but your love for it never faded. It was the only thing that helped you clear your mind and yet, here you are. Unable to focus on your playing because of him.

 The great Elven master smith, Celebrimbor, was floating around your mind, effortlessly. You could spend your days thinking about him and it wouldn’t even bother you. Except for the fact that he barely knew of you. You had spoken once, and he had asked you a question that left you to feel beyond confused. Oh, how you wished to be closer to him. It seemed to be an impossible feat, as you were practically in two separate worlds. But still, your heart yearned for him.

“Did you forget how to play?”

The playful words from your dear friend, Elrond, snapped you out of your thoughts. You were so deep into your own mind that you didn’t see him approach, nor did you hear him call your name earlier. 

“I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.” You stood up and dusted some stray leaves off of your dress. Elrond seemed to always be there right when you needed him the most. While you could usually tell him anything, you found yourself unable to share the contents of your heart. Elrond looked up to Celebrimbor, and you feared that your feelings would make him uncomfortable.

“Yes of course, staring blankly into the distance is no doubt how you play the flute. Something is on your mind, is it not? Tell me.” He crossed his arms and attempted to give you a stern look, but it came off more as a look of concern. He always knew when you weren’t fully yourself.

“I cannot tell you.”  You avoided his gaze, as you knew it would break you. He frowned and turned slightly away from you, thinking of ways to get you to talk.

“Very well. I will let it go for now, seeing as I need your help.”  

“What do you need?”

“Follow me.”  Without even giving you a chance to respond, he started making his way down from the hill you stationed yourself at. You quickly grabbed your belongings and followed him, curiosity flowing through you as you did so.

“I need you to- oh hurry up would you.”  He was walking quickly and you had so many things to carry, hardly a fair thing for him to ask of you at that moment. “I am walking as fast as I can, now tell me what you need.”  You had managed to catch up to him, so you could converse without having to shout.

“I have to ask Lord Celebrimbor for a favour, and I need you there for moral support.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Admiring him from afar was one thing but now, your dear friend was asking you to be in the same vicinity as the man who could cause you to forget how to breathe. 

Noticing you had stopped, Elrond turned around with a confused look on his face. “Y/N? What is bothering you?”

You took a deep breath and tried to regain your composure. “Elrond, I have spoken to Lord Celebrimbor once. I do not believe I will be of any help.”

Elrond laughed and gently grabbed your arm. “Come Y/N. I know what it is that stops you. This is both for me and you. Trust me.”

You could not find the words to argue with him so you allowed yourself to be pulled along, towards the tower where Lord Celebrimbor was. The closer you got to it, the more nervous you became. Elrond, seeing this, gave you a comforting smile as he opened the doors and ushered you inside.

“Lord Celebrimbor, might I speak with you for a moment?”

Elrond’s voice rang throughout the room and the Elven smith walked out from behind a pillar to greet him.

“Ah, Elrond! How good it is to see you! And you have brought Y/N!”

He…knew your name? You had only spoken to him once, and you had not mentioned your name. So how on earth did he know it?

“It is a pleasure to see you again, my lord.” You bowed your head, which was both out of respect and to avoid his eyes.

Elrond began telling Celebrimbor about his project, which left you to casually wander through the room. There were many scrolls, both stacked neatly and tossed around, and a wide variety of tools could be found in every corner of the room. It was amazing how the line between chaos and order was so clear.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

You spun around quickly and stared blankly at Elrond. Apparently, his conversation had included you at some point. “So sorry, what do you need me to do?” You made your way over to the two, still avoiding Celebrimbor’s eyes.

“I need you to keep Lord Celebrimbor company while he works on this project for me. I fear it may bore him at some point.”

Upon hearing this, you decided to finally look at Celebrimbor, who was smiling fondly at you. As you stared into his eyes, you could see his brilliance shining through them. You wondered why you had avoided his gaze for so long, when his eyes were the most captivating thing you had ever seen. 

“Would that be alright with you, Y/N?” Elrond, while waiting for your answer, gave you a small smirk as he knew exactly how you felt. He had known for quite some time now, but wanted to give you the chance to tell him yourself. Seeing as you never did, he decided to take things into his own hands.

“Yes, of course.” 

“Wonderful! I will return in a week or so to check in on the progress.” Elrond bowed once more and left. Which meant that you and Celebrimbor were now alone. In his forge. It then dawned on you that you had no idea how to keep him from getting bored. In fact, you weren’t even sure if he ever got bored. He loved his work, that was clear to everyone.

“Forgive me, my lord, but I do not know how Elrond wished for me to help you. I doubt you find your work boring, no matter what it is you are making.” 

Celebrimbor had already begun working, so he did not look at you as he spoke.

“Elrond tells me you are quite talented with a flute. Perhaps you could play something?”

Ah, your flute. The flute that you promised yourself you wouldn’t play for others until you were confident enough in your abilities again. Elrond knew of this promise, and it seemed as though he had thought of a way to make you break it.

“Very well. Though I should mention, I have not played in the company of others in many years.”  You thought it was best to mention this now, in case you made mistakes or forgot parts of the pieces you were about to play.

He did not reply, though he was waiting for you to begin. You stood in the middle of the room, where you previously assessed was the best spot for acoustics, and began playing the piece you knew best. You closed your eyes, thinking back to the time when you first learned it. You were told that it was a story. A story about the stars, how they shined so warmly and yet, were so cold. How they reflected in the still waters of the night, almost close enough to touch. A song of love and yearning. 

The sound of gems falling onto the ground caused you to stop mid-song. You opened your eyes and quickly looked to where Celebrimbor was working. He was sitting now, his head in his hands and the gems he was previously inspecting, scattered across the floor.

“My lord? Are you alright?”

You placed your flute on a nearby table and quickly rushed to his side. Fear crossed your mind, as you knelt down beside him, gently pulling his hands away from his face. What you did not expect was to meet his eyes, beautiful as ever, yet filled with tears. 

“It was you? All this time?”

“What do you mean?” You stared up at him, confusion written across your face. As far as you knew, you had never played for him before.

He took your hands into his own, staring so deeply into your eyes, you felt as though he could see through your soul. “In the quiet hours of the night, I often find myself strolling through the city, trying to relax my mind. Though lately, I have heard the sweetest sounds, flowing through the night sky and towards the stars. I have heard a sound that I believed to have been blessed by the Valar themselves.”

You were at a loss for words. To hear the man you loved and admired speak so highly of your playing, it made your heart weak. You could no longer stay upright, so you decided to lay down flat on the ground.

“I have seen many beautiful things in my life, yet none compare to this sight before me.”  He couldn’t help but to admire you, as the gems that were once scattered meaninglessly were now surrounding you, like a halo of jewels. He felt as though he had seen the universe in this one moment. Nothing would ever compare to you, to your pure, raw beauty. 

There was no way for you to hide your face from him, as you began to blush from his words. He was staring down at you as though you were his best work. His most prized piece. His every word made your head spin.

“I wish I could see this for the rest of my years.”

“You can. If it is what you truly wish for.”  When you finally spoke, it was no more than a whisper. His eyes widened at your words, and he slowly slid off of his chair, kneeling down beside you.

“You would stay with me?” His voice was soft and gentle, like a summer night’s breeze.

You sat up so you could face him properly. Never in your life would you have imagined yourself in this situation. You face, mere centimeters away from his, as he poured his heart out to you. 

“I would stay with you, until the very end.”  You leaned in closer to him, closing your eyes as you rested your forehead against his. “My love for you would be the very blood rushing through your veins. It would be the air in your lungs. No power in this world, nor any other, could possibly take me away from you.”

You could feel his body relax as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as though he was afraid of losing you. He pulled his face away from yours briefly, to bask in your beauty once more, before he gently held your face in his hands and kissed you.

If the Valar had ever decided to bless him, it was at this moment. Where he felt as though the universe had shifted and stars had aligned. He had many accomplishments in his life, but none of them ever made him feel the way he did now. 

In the middle of the room, where you were safe in each other’s embrace, the world seemed to be at peace, even if it was only for a moment. For he had you, until the end of his days.

[whetstonefires]

Underrated element of where Jiang Cheng is re: wwx after everything is that they always had a sort of dual relationship. Two different relationship premises, superimposed on one another.

There's the one where they grew up together, as close as brothers, beating each other up and complaining and being one another's closest companions, sharing a bedroom as kids and eating at the same family dinner table, actively encouraged by Jiang Fengmian to interact as equals.

And then there's the one where Wei Wuxian was in service to Jiang Cheng's family. Not as a servant--Jiang Fengmian absolutely refused to do that, even if he couldn't adopt him. But as a disciple of Jiang Cheng's father and recipient of his charity, as Jiang Cheng's future right hand and most trusted subordinate.

It's a vertical relationship, intimate in its own way but with very strict expectations about what obligations flow in what directions; they are not identical and reciprocal as between friends and equals.

(It's my opinion that Jiang Fengmian's core deal was a deep-seated discontent with the hierarchies he was at the top of, without access to any way to actually deconstruct them or even coherently articulate his opposition. Wei Changze was his dear friend, and no one thinks that's a good enough reason for him to treat Wei Changze's son like his own, because Wei Changze was also his servant, and you can't make that circle square. That's not a way you're allowed to love.)

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were like brothers; Wei Wuxian served Jiang Cheng.

The personal relationship was always the most important one. To them, in their hearts. But it was the other one that was real, that had weight in the world.

And it's important to understand that neither can be held up as more factual than the other, even though they conflict. Both relationships existed, and had power.

So then when Jiang Cheng chose to hate Wei Wuxian and articulate his grudge against him, he chose to do it in the language of fealty. Because as far as he knew, his case there was secure, watertight, and it wouldn't expose him emotionally or politically.

And those are the terms in which he's been condemning him all this time: for abandoning the Sect, for ingratitude, for lack of loyalty.

For fuckups, too, and poor judgment, but some of that now turns out to have been justified and some of it was mostly the fault of enemies behaving badly, or even Jiang Cheng himself allowing himself to be pushed into making unworthy choices.

And it was all for his sake.

The thing, the thing in my opinion, about what Wei Wuxian did, about the core transfer and his silent self-destruction around keeping it secret, is that that is a hideous thing to have done between two people who love each other, as an act of love. Beautiful, but awful. As the man who was like a brother to him, Jiang Cheng has a great deal of standing to object to it.

But as an act of vassalage, it's basically perfect.

If Wei Wuxian were only what he formally was to Jiang Cheng, if he is interpreted through a lens of fealty and obligation, he did exactly what he should have done, and went beyond what duty actually required. And went to his death silently, allowing himself to be judged, taking all the burden on himself rather than let harm come to his lord.

Like, obviously Jiang Cheng was harmed by the part where Jin Zixuan got manslaughtered and Jiang Yanli walked into the line of fire in situations where Wei Wuxian was resorting to violence and probably shouldn't have, but those are one step removed from the core issue. In terms of Wei Wuxian's intentional choices around Jiang Cheng himself, at the times he was feeling betrayed and abandoned Wei Wuxian was in fact being impossibly, poetically loyal, an absolute cliche about it.

But only in terms of the hierarchical form of their relationship.

Which means that even though Jiang Cheng has a lot of reasons to still be mad at Wei Wuxian, his actual complaints that he's centered for thirteen years are basically wiped out by the revelation of Wei Wuxian's sacrifice.

Wei Wuxian was in fact doing the tragic hero loyal vassal thing, which very much includes being misunderstood and slandered by the world. (Chenqing as a name choice absolutely references this expectation, and the idea that Jiang Cheng specifically will never understand that Wei Wuxian was trying to help him first and foremost all along; he is not subtle.)

The debts Jiang Cheng has been spitefully calling in and considering defaulted were already long paid.

So if at this point Jiang Cheng keeps pursuing that same line of rhetorical attack, now that he knows, he'll be putting himself morally in the wrong, and he knows it. But if he pivots to something else, he'll both be signalling the shape of that secret to the entire world and looking like a prize idiot.

Which is already how he feels.

To actually address the remaining grievances between them, which are considerable, would require releasing those safe, open grudges to Wei Wuxian's face and then reclaiming him as a loved one. Which is, one could fairly say, more than anyone could expect.

Which is why Wei Wuxian told him he didn't have to.

Which leaves Jiang Cheng at something of an impasse.