#please help my friend i want her to survive and thrive as we all deserve to

[transmechanicus]

Anyone who has followed me for the past 2 months knows i am desperately trying to fundraise for my cherished friend @the-sera in order to get urgent treatment to save her life. I cannot overstate that she is in incapacitating pain, which makes daily survival extremely challenging. Donations have almost completely stopped and if we can’t at least hit our short term goal of 18K within the next month or so, it is unavoidable that my friend may die before the end of the year. I don't have the resources to save her life on my own, so if you’re reading this i’m on my knees begging. Please reblog this, please donate even $5. Help me save my friend as you would strive to save yours.

11.1K/18K

[trivalentlinks]

🔥 - i'd like to order an unpopular opinion on leverage, please!

Sorry for the very, very late answer, but to make up for it, have two unpopular opinions:

The first one's a bit of a cop-out. I think it's the less popular opinion, but probably because most don't care that much either way:

I head-canon that Damien Moreau is actually a banker/financier, ie, his primary source of income is actually derivatives investments and market prediction, and all the buying countries, arms deals and other such clandestine activities is just to give markets slight pushes in the direction he wants. (I've previous talked about this here (my last reblog addition))

This opinion seems "unpopular" in that the more common reading is that he's a mob boss who just calls himself a 'banker' to make himself sound cooler than he actually is. Which I think is a totally valid reading, consistent with what we are shown in canon! Like, he's all about image, and it's totally believable that the entire financier/banker persona is just that.

One reason I prefer the actually-a-banker reading is, as I described in the other post, because I like the parallel with team leverage and their "alternative revenue stream". This is also why I like to head-canon that when Eliot and Moreau were starting out (after Eliot met Toby and left the PMCs with his newfound conscience), before things got bad, they actually did good--only destabilizing horrible, abusive dictatorships, using their alternative revenue stream to help people. The parallels are just so compelling to me this way.

Another reason I prefer the actually-a-banker reading is that it's more relatable to me. I know people who work as financiers (hedge fund/high frequency trading/crypto firm founders or high-level quants etc).

None of them (that I know of) would actually do illegal things to manipulate prices, but it sometimes seems like if they were a little less risk-averse, a little less ethical, who knows? And when they tell me about the people they know, people they describe as "if you took a person's stats and dialled 'ethics' all the way down to zero"... These friends think anyone too stupid to see through a cryptocurrency white paper deserves to lose their life's savings. So when they say someone has ethics dialled to zero, well. You don't wanna know.

On the other hand, I don't know anyone who's anywhere close to being a mob boss.

-

Here's a more genuinely unpopular opinion, in that I think most people believe the opposite, and actually do care:

I really like Jimmy Ford. I find the character very relatable and very compelling. I feel like a lot of people in the fandom just write him off as a bad father, but I don't think that's fair.

I talked a lot about this here (skip past the "..." paragraph; above that were my old early thoughts about Moreau, before I reformulated them to be my current thoughts)

As I mentioned there, I see in Jimmy Ford every parent who didn't understand their kid, but loved them, and as Jimmy said to Nate, that's more important.

Every parent who grew up at a different time, in another country, in a harder, less forgiving world, who wants to ensure their kid can survive that old environment, without realizing that that isn't the kid's world anymore, that their kid is actually thriving in this new world, the one their parents sacrificed to raise them in

Every parent who flipped out when their son decided to major in sociology instead of computer engineering, because they could never have made a living with a degree like that

(but he's going to do more than make a living with that degree; he's going to make a difference)

Every parent who constantly monitors their daughter to ensure she waits for marriage, because in the old country she would have been shunned or worse if she didn't

(but she's not there right? her parents worked and sacrificed and bled to bring her up in this more forgiving world)

Every parent who sits next to their kid for hours a day until they get their daily hour of piano practice done (and yells at them until they do every day, disturbing their neighbour, who's just trying to focus on doing her research and grading her students' papers, not that this is personal or anything), because the parent managed to survive and to move to this country by working relentlessly at everything they did and can't imagine a world where a 7-year-old is allowed to play and to find their own interests

(but they will, maybe not then, but one day, years down the line, they may even end up liking music)

Maybe it's that I'm a kid of immigrants who knows a lot of kids of immigrants, but I think I'm more forgiving of people who raised their children in a culture different from their own and struggled to adjust to that.

[dayscrazed]

Chain of Thorns Countdown!

For each day leading up to the release of Chain of Thorns, I’ll be posting one song parody inspired by Rent!

13 days to go: “Out Tonight” POV- Matthew

12 days to go: “Will I?” POV- Jesse, James, Alastair, Matthew & Cordelia

11 days to go: “I’ll Cover You” POV- Lucie & Jesse

10 days to go: “One Song Glory” POV- Thomas & Alastair

9 days to go: “Take Me or Leave Me” POV- Anna & Ariadne

8 days to go: “I Should Tell You” POV- James & Cordelia

7 days to go: “Another Day” POV- Thomas & Alastair

6 days to go: “Today for You” POV- Lucie & Jesse

5 days to go: “Light My Candle” POV- James & Grace

4 days to go: “What You Own” POV- James & Matthew

3 days to go: “Tango Maureen (Jamie)” POV- Cordelia & Matthew

2 days to go: “Goodbye Love” POV- James, Cordelia, Matthew, Grace, Alastair, Charles

Goodbye Love:

Grace: It’s true you got your spouse and bought a house James: It’s true. I’m leaving now for Curzon Street. It’s true you’re with that yuppy scum? Alastair: You said he’d never speak to her again Cordelia: Not now. Charles: Who said that you have any say in who he says things to at all. Grace: Yeah. Alastair: Who said that you should stick your nose in other people’s- Charles: Who said I was talking to you. Alastair: We used to have this fight each night. He’d never admit I existed. James: She was the same way. She was always run away, hit the road, don’t commit, you’re full of sh*t! Alastair: He’s in denial. James: She’s in denial. Alastair: Didn’t give an inch when I gave a mile Grace: I gave a mile James: Gave a mile to who? Cordelia: Come on guys chill! James and Alastair: I’d be happy to die for a taste of what my parents had. Someone to live for, unafraid to say I love you! James: Oh, your words are nice Grace. But love’s not a two-way street. You’ll never share real love until you love yourself, I should know. Cordelia: You all said you’d be cool today. So please for my sake. I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe we’re dying. I can’t believe my family must die. My dad helped me believe in love. But sometimes I disagree. Cordelia, Alastair, James: I can’t believe this is goodbye

Matthew: I hear, there are great restaurants out West

James: Some of the best, how could she?

Matthew: How could you treat her so?

James: You just don't know How could we lose Nephilim?

Matthew: Maybe you'll see why When you stop escaping your pain At least now if you try All this death won't be in vain

James: These deaths are in vain

Matthew: Are you insane? There's so much to care about There's me, there's Daisy

James: Daisy’s got her baggage too

Matthew: So do you

James:  Who are you to tell me what I know What to do?

Matthew: A friend

James: But who Math are you? "Math has got his drink", they say "Math lives for his drinks and Math’s in love with his drink" Math hides in his drinks

Matthew: From what?

James: From facing your failure Facing your loneliness Facing the fact you live a lie Yes, you live a lie, tell you why You're always preaching not to be numb When that's how you thrive You pretend to create and observe When you really detach from feeling alive

Matthew: Perhaps it's because I'm the one of us to survive

James: Poor baby

Matthew: Daisy does love you Is she really jealous Or too proud to let it show?

James: Daisy did look sad

Matthew: Daisy deserves more Grace is causing misery And you’re running out the door

James: No more, oh no, I've gotta go Hey, for someone who's always been let down Who's heading out of town?

Matthew: For someone who longs for a community of his own Who's with his books, alone? I'll call I hate the fall

James: You heard?

Cordelia: Every word You don't want to hurt me Without divorce guarantees You don’t want to watch me fail I just came to say goodbye love Goodbye love, came to say goodbye love Goodbye Just came to say Goodbye love

James: Glory

Cordelia: Goodbye love

James: One blaze of glory

Cordelia: Goodbye love, goodbye

James: I have to find

Cordelia: Please don't touch me, understand I'm scared I need to go away

Matthew: I know a place, a city A retreat?

Cordelia: Maybe could you?

Matthew: I'll pay

Cordelia: Goodbye love, goodbye love Came to say goodbye love, goodbye Just came to say goodbye love Goodbye love, goodbye love Goodbye love, hello, Lilith

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Hi!!!! i love our writing and i just knew you could do this! Could you do one with a father Aizawa and a gender nuetral chil reader, who is jealous of Midoriya. Because when Midoriya harnesses his quirk Aizawa be happy dadzawa but when the reader was like 6 or 7 and harnessed theirs he said like " Work harder." Or the world won't want a weak hero and stuff and thats why they hate Midoriya and stuff? IT IS SOO FINE OF YOU CANT!! THANKS <3

•Midoriya is nice.

• He's /so/ fucking nice

• He has a nice smile

• His freckles are nice

• His attitude is great

• He goes out of his way to make sure people are okay

• Which makes it worse and pisses you off more.

• You've been jealous of him for awhile- please he's the center of attention for everyone

• But that isn't your problem

• He's the center of attention for your own dad.

• At least it seemed that way.

• Shota Aizawa, your father, was a teacher at U.A.

• He was bound to get attached to students, that's what teachers are supposed to do

• But..it felt like you were on the back burner and not enough

• when you develop your quirk, you dad gives you a speech

• You're first sucess with your quirk, your father tells you to work harder

• And that's all it ever is

• "work harder"

• "you should be farther along by now,"

• "this isn't a joke, why are you treating it that way?"

• there wasn't a good job or a congrats or praise

• But there was with midoryia

• who got all of it.

• he got good jobs and impresseds

• He got way to go kid and that was smart

• At the beginning of the year you liked him

• He was friendly and funny and he seemed like a cool dude

• He was a cool dude and you hated him- yourself even more for that

• You couldn't ever hate him, not truly.

• Not even when your father praised him, took him under his wing, focused on him

• Even shinsou- you didn't hate him. You were great friends with him.

• But Midoriya irked you, even if you couldn't find it in you to talk behind his back or fuck him over

• Your jealousy for the boy only grew as your fathers praise to him grew and his words to you grew distanced.

• And yet you still thrived for the man's approval

• You wanted to be recognized

• You wanted validation

• You wanted praise and approval.

• You wanted love.

• You stopped speaking to Midoriya, completely. The poor boy didn't deserve a blow up from you, it wasn't his fault.

• Contact to him stopped. His conversation muted unless it was to the class Group Chat

• Your seat? Unfortunately still near him, was no longer an issue if you just ignored his presence

• If your group was hanging put with him that day, you'd skip with some dumb homework excuse.

• No one said anything

• Aside from shinsou that is.

• The smart-ass always had something to say

• "You can't just ignore your problems forever."

"I'm not, till talking to you."

"Funny. But seriously. He's going to question it if he hasn't already. Word gets around.."

• In all seriousness, shinsous worried. He's really worried.

• He's watching you distance yourself from people, from midoryia- hell the only reason the two of you still talk on a daily basis is because he forces it.

• You don't mind, of course, he know that. You did the same to him when his mental health had declined.

• But he sees you're doing it for validation

• Amd he knows Aizawas words aren't malicious. You're his kid, he's worried and wants you to survive over anyone else.

• Doesn't mean how he's going about it is right.

• and it isn't long before you start taking physical training to the max too.

• After class you train for hours until dinner.

• Sometines you miss it; sometimes you don't get home until much later.

• One day in particular though, you start training on a Saturday morning

• He tells you to be smart, keep hydrated and take breaks before he leaves for the day

• Only to come back at dusk to you still training

• "Quirks are currency shinsou,"

"That doesnt-"

"I have to get stronger, no one's going to want a weak hero"

"Y/N please- you've been out here all day. It's hot and muggy and you've barley eaten anything. You need breaks. You can't be a strong pro hero if you die of heat exhaustion." He takes your arm and pulled it down from the punching bag. "You're worrying me."

"I'm not strong enough," you mumble. "Dads right,"

• Eventually Midoriya starts to question why you're ignoring him

• He doesn't think he's done anything wrong

• Maybe he said the wrong thing? But what even is the wrong thing? What could he have said?

• After one particularly rough morning, you're struggling with something

• You're already pissed and ready for the day to be over.

• And it's only 10 in the fucking morning

• And Midoriya, desperate to heal what he once had with a friend (you), walks over to help

"Hey," he starts. "You look like you need some help?"

You pause, glancing in his direction for only a moment. "Go sit down," You mutter.

"I just want to help-"

"I don't need your fucking help. You are the LAST thing I need," you snap. "Who the fuck would /ever/ need you?" You grab your bag and shove him back, leaving the classroom.

The class quiets.

• Midoriya didn't deserve it, no. You knew that.

• You also knew that you weren't in the place to go back to school, so you didn't.

• You took the day off, wandering the streets of your prefecture

• Shinsous blowing up your phone

• Katsuki is too.

• Katsukis upset, you would be too if someone spoke to your friend that way

• Everyone else is too on edge to text you, they're worried though.

• Of course, they go to Aizawa.

• They tell him what happened and how you've been acting

• And he nods quietly and says he'll take care of it.

• Shinsou finally finds you at the Cafe you frequent and he quietly sits across from you

• "you should be in school," you mumble

"So should you."

It's quiet for a few moments before you speak again. "I think I'm going to leave U.A. Mom lives in Miyagi, they've got some nice highschools there. I talked to her over the phone last night."

"What? What no, you can't?"

"Why not, Hitoshi?"

"Because you're a hero-"

"I'm not. I'm not a fucking hero. I haven't made any successes while I've been here, I haven't developed anything, Dad was right."

"You dad was wrong. He's wrong. He's- He's worried one day you're not going to come home. Or when you do you won't be in one piece, so he's pushing you and pushing you," he took your hand gently. "You're strong. You're going to be a great hero. You've already accomplished more than you know."

"I blew up at Midoriya today," you slide him your drink and he takes a sip.

"I know." He nods. "But that's okay, we can deal with it later." He squeezed your hand.

"Yeah, later,"

• It's very much later by the time you reach your dorm.

• The day Shinsou moved to the 1A dorms was the day you'd rejoice

• Your bag is tossed to the side and you make your way to the kitchen and freeze.

• Aizawa is sitting at the table, facing you.

"Your friends are worried about you,"

Yous scoff. "Yeah I'm sure they are."

"Midoryias worried about you."

"I really don't care."

"You shouldn't have snapped at him." Aizawa sighs.

"Thats-" you take a deep breath. Of course he only cared about Midoriya. "Typical." You move to the fridge to get something to drink.

"I..apologize," he begins. "'It's come to my attention that I haven't exactly been the best father to you since your mother left,"

"You think?" You muttered.

"I'm worried. I'm scared."

You look up at him.

"The world is cruel. And I've lost so many students to hero work in the years I've taught, I wouldn't be able to handle it if I lost you to. But it seems I'm already down the path." He stood up and walked over to you. "You're my kid, I love you more than the moon and the stars, I want you to stay safe. Above everyone else, above all else, I want you to come home." He kisses your forehead.

"It'd be nice to get a good job every once in awhile. Everyone else does." You mutter, looking down.

"You are doing great, you know. I don't say it nearly enough but you impress me everyday."

• It's...a little awkward after that, neither of you know how to process emotion so after two days you just pretend like it never happened

• You quietly apologize to Midoriya and wall away before he can respond before pretending like that didn't happen either

• You're not expecting him to want to be your friend

• But he's very adamant on texting you, inviting you out, walking with you you to class

• 1A becomes whole again

• But Shota does ease up, you get the good jobs, the praise, the validation

• And you eat it up to be frank, you fucking love it.

[eligaxy]

Wind

☆ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 : Venti x gn!Reader

☆𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : near death experience, you’re confused asf about everything, bad writing cause i suck, spoilers for the we will be reunited quest!! And also for venti’s backstory, venti is serious for once (yes it’s a legitimate warning🤚)

☆𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : Some angst, some fluff? Idk bye🤨

☆𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 : "It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask." (2.8k words)

♪𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : i’m an idiot simp, i did this in one sitting and half asleep, english isnt my first language BLA BLA IM SORRY FOR MY POOR WRITING BUT HAVE THIS

basically you don’t know if you can trust venti or not, head says no, heart screams yes

Also, I was listening to stormterror’s lair ost while writing it, just because its fucking amazing, you might wanna listen to it too

I’m nervous to post this?/&:! This is the second fic i’ve ever finished in my whole life

i love venti and he’s hot in his god outfit i don’t make the rules

KAY ENJOY <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

Saying you were exhausted would have been an understatement. After reuniting with your sibling, you had been frantically searching for clues about khaenri'ah and ways to Inazuma. With no luck, you couldn't find any traces of Dainsleif or of your twin. The ruins had been sealed and you had no idea what happened to the inverted statue or the corpse you had found there. Desperately, you clung into every little information you had, you would have turned every rock on this archon damned continent if you had to, which is what led you into those ruins near Guilli plains.

Walking along the destroyed buildings your eyes caught sight of a dandelion and you froze. You missed them so much, why couldn't they go back home with you? All you ever wanted was to be by their side why, why were they running away from you?

You remembered your travels, the moments you shared together, their protectiveness over you, the fondness in their eyes when you smiled at them. You remember the times you got hurt and healed one another with your now missing powers. You remember sleeping by their side and being grateful to the universe to let you keep your ray of sunshine everywhere with you. How ironic.

What had they meant 'once you reach the end of your journey' ? What does that even mean? Stupid twin, if they knew you were here the whole time, why hadn't they come to you? Why were they always leaving just when they were within your grasp? Why? Did they know how much you missed them and how much your heart broke when you finally saw them? Did they?

You only realized you were crying when a small gust of wind had your wet cheek react to the cold, breaking your train of thought. Wind.

The wind is everywhere, you think, free as a bird, always accompanying every citizen of this world, never truly alone. With this in mind, you resumed your exploring, slower this time.

A sigh escaped your mouth. You didn't want to admit it, but the wind did comfort you a little. Almost as if he was here. God of freedom and of the breeze, he was more a singer than a protector and you couldn't bear to think about him. Was it true? What Dain said... Did he destroy this nation? Was he the cause of the scenery that still haunted your nightmares up until 500 years later? Your brain simply couldn't accept that Venti, your Venti, you catch yourself thinking, could have made such an act of wrath. He was the epitome of freedom, why would he take the very thing he based all of his existence on from mere mortals? Barbatos simply couldn't be afraid of being overpowered, he didn't even care about power. All he wanted was freedom and happiness for his people. Surley this couldn't be right?

But then again, who were you to deny the wipe out of an entire nation? The gods did it. They were afraid that Celestia would be overthrown by the pride of humankind, the destruction of khaenri'ah by divine beings was a fact. There was no misunderstanding about this. That was the one thing you were sure of. So why did you feel like crying even more now?

The mere thought of a gentle soul such as Venti committing innocent people to an eternity of suffering didn't sit right with you. Even when his dearest friend Dvalin had turned against him, he didn't try to stop him, didn't even ask the dragon to save him. He healed and helped him, gave him a choice.

'What is freedom if demanded of you by a god?' was the same person that asked this question the same one who committed mass murder? Genocide?

Did the little wine-lover bard you had grown fond of destroy all hopes and light your kin had?

You remember that night when he freed Stanley from his burden, freed his and his friends' spirits. You had marveled at his action, in that instant he was a god, and he definitely hadn't struck you as a murderer. You remember that look of silent pain and grief in his eyes when he sang the tales of the nameless bard he had taken the appearance of. You knew he trusted you enough to share his story, something so personal, you could almost feel the war that took down the tyrant of Mond. Oh how much you cherished that evening, treating him to some well deserved dandelion wine afterwards, his favorite, and asking him to sing you more about the time where was nothing but the spirit of a breeze.

Your heart broke a little, remembering his rosy cheeks and drunk smile, you wish you could talk to him, ask him what happened. What did he do, was he really as dangerous as you had been told? If so, then why did you feel so good around him? Why did you feel like you could give hi-

You stopped walking upon seeing a ruin guard up ahead in the distance. You're so stupid, you think. Feeling this way is not gonna get you anywhere, especially with how the bard had been missing for a few weeks now. Ever since you had last seen your sibling.

Where was he, where was he wandering off to? You walk towards the disabled ruin guard, not really paying any mind to it, still thinking about the god you longed to meet with. If you could see him, what would you even say? Would he even answer your questions? Why did your stomach feel so light and funny when you thought about seeing him, why aren't you angrier?

You're almost at the killing machine's level now, so lost in your thought you don't notice the five other similar robots hidden behind a wall next to it. You notice them only when it's too late and you've already turned them on while thinking about examining them and collecting their serial numbers. When you hear the familiar tick of the mechanism turning on, you internally panic and think about running away only to calm down moments later and think to yourself that you can simply beat it and take what you came here for. Even if you are emotionally and physically tired, you can manage, you think.

That was before hearing five other consecutive ticks right after it, and all around you.

Turning around, your gaze falls upon the small army of field tillers. Fuck.

Paimon wasn't with you today, you had asked for some time alone which she hesitantly accepted, so you couldn't ask her to go fetch help. You would have been worried if you had all your capacities but with the state you were in, you were wondering how you were going to survive this fight. You were alone, none of your companions with you, and deeply weakened by the busy day you had and the few hours of sleep you had managed to steal away from the night. Was it today you would meet your doom, with all your questions and uncertainties unanswered?

You tried your best to fight with the strength you had left, but quickly grew desperate after what felt like hours of efforts to swing your blade and being able to only take one monster down out of the six. It didn't help that you got injured along the way, their blows becoming harder and harder to dodge. After being thrown on the grown for the third time, you understood you had at least two broken ribs and that your shaking legs would soon fail you as well.

Fear crept upon you, you would die here today, alone. Alone. You couldn't talk to your sibling after all, couldn't understand. You didn't even get to talk to him one last time. Him... You would die without the knowledge of the truth about your bard. You would die alone. You didn't want that, you couldn't look death straight in the eye.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

-

In Mondstadt, there was a musician, a weird singer everyone had heard about at least once. He lived off of his songs and was mostly known for having a great story-telling and being an alcoholic.

The number of people who knew the true nature of his identity were few and he was perfectly content with that. He didn't wish to be a god anymore, his gnosis had been taken away anyway and it's not like he had any power over the city of wind nowadays. Even if his people still worshipped him as Barbatos, it didn't sit right with him to be called a god anymore. It actually never did, he thinks to himself with a smile, he never really took any responsibilities that came with the divine title which is why he was so weak today. But it didn't matter to him, his smile turns into a soft giggle.

Sitting on a mill that was once born from his steps he looks fondly over the city he founded. Even if they were godless, the citizens were still thriving and free. He cared oh so very deeply about the place even if he rarely, if not never, showed the affection within his heart. He remembers the day he grew strong enough to dispel the storms over his actual Mondstadt, and made the weather gentle enough so that there was no need for fireplaces. Nowadays, he loves watching birds nest into the chimney tops and seeing them found their own home. It gave him a sense of belonging like no other, not above his people, but walking among them and watching them nest into this cocoon he created. He was proud of what happened to his land and would do it all over again if he had to.

Especially since it led to him meeting you. This thought doesn't catch him off guard, you often roamed around in his mind after all, and it's not like he didn't write at least three songs about you and your feat, your smile, your courage...

Ah there he goes again, rambling about you in a whisper. He turns around to the statue of him his people erected in his honor, chuckling at how they never made the connection with his signature braids. His, but not really his, since he had stolen this form from someone who was much more deserving of this power than him. Seeing his friend being honored with the statues of the seven around the land made him happy, he hoped that it was a good enough thank you gift in return for everything that the bard whom he couldn't even remember the name of anymore did for him.

Upon gazing at the statue, he remembered telling you of his long gone friend. It was the first time he had talked about him to someone else, he didn't even mention it to Venessa, she who made him believe in himself again. He could ask himself why, but he simply knew that you had something different, more than meets the eye. Perhaps it was because you weren't from Teyvat, or perhaps it was just you being as simple as your natural self but he was simply and utterly captivated by your being. You inspired him to no end, at first he thought it was because he had never met someone like you and he loved new things! But as time grew and he got to know you, he understood quickly the meaning and depth of his passions. He thought of it with a light chuckle, content with your presence alone. He really did need and want you around.

So why did he purposely avoid you like the plague?

The wind had brought to his ears that you had met with Dainsleif.

And your twin.

His first reaction was to search for you, talk to you, he wanted to be here to know what happened! You had searched so long, he couldn't contain himself, still listening to what the wind told him, he started running with excitement but... But wait, Dainsleif was... He told you what?

Oh.

So you heard about Khaenri'ah. He had stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, only sending a warm current of wind your way, hugging you from afar.

He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, not ready to face you and absolutely not ready to answer your questions. He was a coward, he thought, running away like that but what else could he do, really. It was only natural for him to be as uncatchable as air.

A sorry excuse to avoid the fact that even if his past had marvelous story like the one of the nameless bard, it also had its share of darkness, something he wasn't ready to dive back into. Especially not now when your arrival has been shaking this world up like it hasn't been since at least 500 years.

But oh, how he longed to see your face or to hear your voice. So he asked a breeze to report to him what you were up to, and where you were. Just in case! he tells himself, what if you needed help ehe? But he knows you're competent and you won't need the help of a weakling coward like him anytime soon. Or so he thought.

Because when the breeze only gives him a few words back, his blood runs cold.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

-

As you murmured these words in your desperate state, not really for anyone but yourself as a last resort, a prayer of some sort, you tried to stand by leaning yourself on your sword and failing miserably. You didn't dare look up as you heard the loud footsteps of the metal giants coming your way. It was over, and you barely managed to accept it.

As you rested your forehead against the cold handle of your sword, you closed your eyes, tears starting to make their ways out of your closed eyelids. All you could feel was remorse.

A soft breeze moved your hair slightly and your chest felt like a black hole had taken place where your heart used to be, regretting to not have been able to meet him under the tree at Windrise one last time.

The breeze quickly grew stronger, until it felt unnatural and you looked up from the ground, only to close your eyes again immediately when you realized the wind was too powerful for you to keep them open. If you had struggled to see though, you would have been blinded by the white light that soon illuminated the whole ruins. You didn't have enough time to register the situation when you felt a hand being laid atop your shoulder, snaking around your collarbones and pulling you back into... nothing? Another arm circled your weak form and a voice you immediately recognized said

"I've dealt with things worse than you, now crumble."

You realized that if you couldn't feel a chest behind you while still being embraced by his arms, it was because he was floating above you, and not standing behind you. A look in his direction confirmed your suspicions but what stunned you wasn't the fact that he was flying, but the attire he wore. Barely covering his body, a white set made of materials that seemed like clouds and liquid gold contrasted perfectly with his regular green clothes. His hair was glowing green and his eyes that were focused on the ruin guards up ahead had a marvelous shine that you had never seen before. He had that same aura he did the night he freed Stanley, but there was also something different about the way his hands gripped you a little too tightly or the way his voice sounded.

"Venti.." You muttered his name, relief and affection flooding you all at once, in his presence you felt as if nothing bad could happen to you. How foolish could you be, just a few hours ago you were speculating wether or not he had wiped out an entire civilisation and now here you were, being saved by him and feeling safer than you had in months.

"Close your eyes, I don't want give you a headache" he said, slowly floating legs first towards the ground. His unusually serious voice surprised you (and him) but you did as he told you. Letting go of your sword and leaning back into him, you let him deal with the monsters ahead of you.

"It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask."

Being protected by a god really didn't feel that bad. Especially when you were in love with said god.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Thank you so much for reading whatever this is until the end :’)

Don’t hesitate to comment or reblog, tysm <3

Ps: venti loves u and so do i do pls take care of urself mwah

[coffeeshib]

Kara just really really wants to date Lena supercorp au?

“Date me,” Kara says.

“No,” Lena answers calmly.

Kara gasps, blinking fast, shocked by the nonchalant response. Lena merely looks at her tablet, her attention clearly divided. Her best friend sits cross-legged next to her on the couch, sweater and sweatpants and socks on, comfortable and relaxed.

“No? But—Lena, I’m cute and funny.” Kara scrunches her nose and squints at Lena’s tablet screen.

Lena pauses. “That’s true,” she says slowly, and finally looks at Kara. Lifting her hand up, she pushes Kara’s glasses back up on her nose using her index finger. Then, she only just returns her attention back to her tablet.

Alex squints at them from across the room. “Oh, great,” she groans, before standing up and taking her phone out of her pocket. “Where's Kelly?” she mumbles to herself as she leaves the living room, making her way to Lena’s balcony.

“Is that—wait, so is that a yes?”

“It’s a no, Kara. I only agreed with the cute & funny part,” Lena says, distracted.

“Lena.” Kara's mouth opens and closes, eyes blinking fast. “Wow, you don’t let a girl down easy. Sad girl down!”

“Well, get back up,” Lena quips. She strokes Kara’s knee, touch tender.

“I—what—?” Kara stammers, with wild eyes. Falling backwards on the couch, she stares at the ceiling. “I can’t believe you—is this how you usually respond when someone asks you out? So this is what rejection feels like.”

“Trust me, you’ll feel better after eating a plate full of potstickers.”

“Maybe.” Kara bites her bottom lip. Frowning, she sits back up and pokes Lena’s thigh. “But can I ask why not? I have abs, Lena.”

Lena wheezes. A few seconds later, Kara also shakes in silent laughter as well.

“Look,” Kara says, touches her glasses and licks her lips. She’s trying to keep a straight face on. “I’ll play with your hair everyday and give you lots of face kisses if you date me.”

“Well…” Setting the tablet down, Lena pretends to think about it.

Then, the balcony door opens and Alex shows up again, walking in. 

Lena shoots Alex a please help me look, but Alex pretends she doesn’t see it as she refills her glass of water. After that, she dashes out of the room so quickly she becomes a blur of red hair and black clothes.

Damn her.

Kara sees Lena’s face and pouts, taking her arms back. Lena whimpers, because the heaters aren’t on and it’s cold right now and Kara’s hands on her waist were keeping her warm, goddamnit.

Lena tries, and fails, to pull Kara’s arms back around her.

“Kara. Those arms, put them back where they came from—”

Kara does as told, and indulges her. “I have decided that this is the last time I’m going to cuddle you. I only cuddle people I date.”

“Lies.”

“It’s true.”

Lena breaks into a smile—or rather a smirk, really. “It’s not. Don’t threaten to deprive me of your warm hugs and cuddles.”

“Oh, Lena.” Kara sighs. “You see, I would pay so much more attention to you if you dated me. Your best friend who has abs. So, maybe date me?”

Lena considers it for a second, then wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think so.”

“Wha—” Kara stutters, offended. “I'll have you know I'm an excellent girlfriend. I'll bring you flowers and chocolate and give you nose kisses. You’re the perfect height to receive nose kisses from me.”

Lena only stares at her, the corners of her mouth twitching into something like a smile.

Then, someone laughs—loud.

They both look up to see Alex on the balcony with a ridiculous goofy smile on her face, phone next to her ear.

“Look at Alex. I want that. Did you know that Alex’s girlfriend takes her on a date every week, each Saturday, and has a special routine? Kelly gives Alex’s face ten kisses every night, all over her face. It’s relationship goals.”

Lena cracks a smile. “Gay.”

Kara nods solemnly. “Gay.”

“Women, huh, Kara.” Lena arches an eyebrow at her.

“Hush, Lena. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

Lena tilts her head, smiling amusedly. “Kara, you’ve been ‘coming to terms with it’ since… well, since you met me. I think you have it figured out by now.”

Kara shrugs. “I mean… I still don’t know for sure, Lena. See, I’ve never dated a woman before—”

“—What on earth are you talking about, you dated Lucy before she left National City—”

“—How do I truly know if I like women if I have never felt the warmth of a woman’s touch? I’ve walked my whole life confused, lost and scared, hidden from showing my true self to anyone—”

“—Kara, Eliza said “I know” when you came out to her—”

Kara sighs deeply, eyes wide. “How do I just know when I don’t even know how to hold a woman’s hand?”

Lena takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “And I thought I was the dramatic one. Darling, you astound me.”

Kara sighs, sad and dejected. “Lena, what was that quote about tiddies?”

“The what now?”

“From Sappho’s. I think it was something like ‘may you sleep on the breast of your delicate friend’? Yeah, it’s that. Oh to sleep on the breast of my delicate friend.” Kara cries. “That’s what I want, too.”

Lena falls down on Kara’s chest, laughter bubbling inside her chest and trying to squirm away. Kara doesn't let her, instead she just cackles along with her. Lena bites Kara on the neck, who doesn't even flinch, which, what the fuck—instead just shifts Lena back to sitting up and then dramatically sprawls out on her back even more.

“Date me, Lena,” Kara says. “Date me, date me, date me—”

“Kara.” Lena sighs, squeezing Kara’s hand. “I am not going to date you. You would spend more time at the gym than you would with me.” She pokes her abs.

“Oh, no.” Kara sniffs. “But you like and enjoy how strong I am. Don't think I don't notice how flustered you get when I pick you up or hold you in my arms.”

Lena looks faintly pink. “That's none of your business,” she says calmly. “I like muscles, you're not special.” Kara only just now notices Lena’s wrinkled sweater from the earlier actions, and starts smoothing them.

“You look nice. You look really good in my clothes.”

Lena sits still as Kara fixes her up, keeping a poker face even when Kara tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I look good in everything.”

“But my clothes are simply the best.” Then, Kara gasps. “Yet another reason you should date me.”

Lena sighs, shifting her weight around in Kara’s lap. It’s quiet for a bit, eyes on each other as they listen to Alex talking outside.

Kara takes the opportunity to cup Lena’s face. When Lena doesn’t move, just stays still in Kara’s lap, Kara gives Lena a kiss on the cheek.

Lena pulls back.

“Kara! What was that.” Lena raises an eyebrow, incredulous. Her hands slip under Kara’s shirt, palm on her abs.

“I'm trying to seduce you,” Kara says, trying to keep a straight face, and stops Lena’s wandering hands underneath her shirt.

“It isn't working.”

“Darn.”

Lena nods. “You need to work on your skill.”

“Yes, well… that's not exactly what the last person I had sex with said.”

Lena frowns. “Wait, what? When did you have sex with someone?”

“Hmm. Just yesterday, some woman from a friend’s birthday party. She was lovely. Pretty, too. Why, you jealous?”

Lena scoffs. “No,” she says. Kara pokes her cheek.

“Aw, jealous baby,” Kara coos. “How can you be jealous when you’re not even dating me?”

“I’m not jealous,” Lena insists. “I know what you taste like. I know how you are, and I’m very sure I’m not missing out on much.”

“Oh, really now.” Kara breathes a laugh. “I made you cry the last time we hooked up! You were begging so much—Kara, Kara, please! Kara please, want you to touch me, fuck me now, don’t stop, please, please—”

Lena lets out a strangled noise and quickly quiets Kara, squishing her palm against Kara’s mouth. After a moment, when Kara shows no sign of talking anymore, Lena hesitantly takes her hand off Kara’s mouth.

“So, it’s really a big no on dating me, huh.”

Lena pauses, biting her lip.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Amazing,” Kara whispers. “Lena, are we still pretending it wasn't you that I danced & flirted with at Kelly’s birthday party? I even guided you all the way back to your bed. It's been one whole day since you've last gotten—well, um. You know. Are you okay? How are you surviving?”

“I’m thriving.” Lena breathes out. “I’m living my best life. Been doing some soul searching, too. Finding myself.”

Kara wheezes.

“If you really want to date me,” Lena says, seriously, “you would make me some tea and let me do my work peacefully.”

Kara turns incredulous. “But Lena, I can't move.” She cries. “You’re in my lap, snuggled toasty warm against me and feeling me up. You get up!”

Lena slumps down until Kara’s back hits the couch and Lena’s lying completely on Kara. Kara immediately hugs her with her toned arms. 

“No,” Lena says. “I’m cold, warm me up.”

“Ice block human,” Kara whispers. “Date me.”

“No,” Lena says, groaning right into Kara’s ear. She tucks her face into Kara’s neck, her lips touching the skin there. “No, for the last time. I will not date you, Kara Danvers.”

“Golly—that’s not even my full name. How many times can you break a woman's heart today? Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker.”

Lena only makes a muffled sound against her neck.

“No more straps. I’m never giving you some ever again,” Kara decides.

“But I like it when you use the strap. Why not?”

Kara scoffs. “I meant the sour straps. Lollies—my snacks in the cupboards. But since you brought that up, I mean that, too.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Lena pulls herself away, now sitting on Kara’s thighs.

“Dead serious. I’m cute, funny, and I have abs. And as you already know, my strap game is rather incredible. Ask yourself if you deserve the hot package.”

Lena sighs, looking like she’s really considering it. “Kara.”

“I’m a hot item.”

“Come on now, Kara…”

Kara sighs and turns her head to the side, dramatically.

Lena shakes her head. “This doesn’t need to be complicated.”

Kara frowns. “Oh, I see it now. All this time, the only reason why you like me is because of my strap game. I should have known.”

“Oh my god.”

Kara fake sniffs. “No matter, Lena. You’re my favourite person. I still love you, even knowing this.”

Lena mock slaps her on the shoulder, turning it into a gentle hand when it moves up on Kara’s cheek.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? And pretty, too,” Lena murmurs. Kara takes Lena’s hand off her cheek and presses a kiss to the palm, eyes never leaving Lena’s. Lena’s cheeks darken with colour.

“You’re prettier.”

Lena swallows. “Kara, I—”

“I can’t take this any longer.” Alex opens the door loudly and stomps her way inside. “Can you two stop fucking flirting for one goddamn minute?”

“Alex, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Lena states, blinking. “Kara, darling, could you please remove your hand from my boob?”

Kara gives Lena’s boob a soft squeeze, her other hand cupping bare skin from where she's slipped her hand underneath Lena's sweater.

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay, then.”

“Oh my god,” Alex says, covering her face with her hands. “I want to go home. I need to go—now. I got what I wanted a while ago.”

“Love you, Alex. You are more than welcome to,” Kara tells her. “You’ve been here in Lena’s penthouse long enough.”

“What—you talk as if you haven’t been here all day, too.” Lena frowns.

“It’s the weekend—no work, no other stuff. What’s wrong with spending my free time with my best friend?” Kara says, cupping Lena’s face lovingly.

Lena smiles. “You’re sweet.”

Alex stares at them, horrified. “Wow, it’s like… it’s like listening to highschoolers on a first date!”

“Um, but we aren't dating, Alex,” Kara reminds her sister gently.

“No, no, you're right, Kara. You aren't dating,” Alex agrees, and takes a deep, deep breath. “You're fucking married,” she hisses, wild-eyed. “I was the goddamn maid of honour at your wedding. You live here and you co-parent a cat with Lena. You've been married for like, three years now. Which makes your strange, awful flirting so much worse, Kara Danvers-Luthor!"

Kara and Lena only look at each other, snickering.

———

(not-so?) SURPRISE THEY’RE MARRIED

[bitchesgetriches]

Noble citizens of the aspirationally decadent Conglomerated Nation of Bitches Get Riches: let’s have a lil’ chat, shall we? It’s been a while since we chatted about our favorite topic: ourselves!

We hope you’ve enjoyed season two of the Bitches Get Riches podcast. Recording it was a bright spot for us during this dumpster fire of a year, so thank you all for listening.

As we wrap up another season, we had a few notes to share with you. Including some more personal reflections about how we’re doing, where we’re at, and what the future holds.

Let’s get into it!

Merch is back online

If you visited our Etsy shop in the last few months, you might’ve noticed the physical merch—tee shirts and coffee mugs and tote bags and such—wasn’t listed anymore. Basically, when lockdowns started, it caused a lot of disruption and delays on orders. Not wanting people to be stuck waiting for stuff, we decided to take it all offline, and only offer digital merch.

As of today, we’ve reactivated everything! But please keep in mind that there may still be delays, depending on what’s happening in the world! We appreciate your patience, if patience is indeed called for.

Visit Our Etsy Shop

Season one transcripts

Next, we wanted to let you guys know that we now have transcripts available for season one of the Bitches Get Riches podcast!

We’re committed to making BGR as accessible as we possibly can. We know that some people can’t hear, or struggle to absorb information aurally, so transcripts were something we’ve always wanted to offer.

… But, you know, at the end of the day, we’re just two people! Transcribing and editing audio is time- and labor-intensive work, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day for us to do it along with the fifteen million other things we have to do.

We were able to offer season one transcripts thanks entirely to A Purple Life, a peerlessly talented and wonderful fellow blogger who selflessly made it happen. (If you don’t already read her stuff, you’ve already disobeyed us, as we commanded you to in 10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now. And for that, we’re strongly considering smiting you.)

We’re incredibly thankful to Purple for her hard work on this. But we also feel strongly that this DESERVES to be paid work! So the release of season two transcripts is dependent on getting more Patreon donors to offset funding it.

Season 1, Episode 1: “Should I Tell My Boss I’m Looking for Another Job?”

Season 1, Episode 2: “How Should I Behave on My First Day at Work?”

Season 1, Episode 3: “My Parents Have Bad Credit. Should I Help by Co-signing Their Mortgage?”

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Season 1, Episode 5: “I Don’t Love My Job, but It Pays Well. Should I Quit—or Tough It Out?”

Season 1, Episode 6: “I Lent My Boyfriend Money. He Took It to a Casino.”

Season 1, Episode 7: “I’m Terrible at Budgeting. Do I Suck It Up—Or Is There Another Way?”

Season 1, Episode 8: “My Mother Demands Information About My One-Night Stands.”

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

Season 1, Episode 10: “I Want a Pedigreed Dog. She Wants a Rescue Mutt. It Turned into a Fight… and the Fight Got Ugly.”

Season 1, Episode 11: “I Feel Cornered by a Friend Who Keeps Asking to Borrow Money.”

Season 1, Episode 12: “Should I Believe the Fear-Mongering about Another Recession?”

Bonus Episode: Merry Bitchmas! The 2019 Star-Studded Holiday Spectacular

For transcripts, scroll to the bottom of each episode and click “episode transcript.” Or read them directly in the podcast player of your choice!

Podcast reviews

We also super wanted to thank all the people who’ve etched their names in blood upon the dusty pages of our dark grimoire written reviews for the show on Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, and other places!

We are beyond flattered by the kind things you guys have said about us. Like MoonPetalLily, who described us as “the snarky older sisters [they] wish [they] had.”

FunshineKelly said our “advice helped [them] land a $20k raise and a signing bonus without crying even a little bit.” GOOD! We don’t support tears in the workplace! Not even in the sanctity of your car parked way in the corner of the parking lot. Keep it together!

And God bless MelHubbs, who said, and I quote:

They’re prepared, and still relaxed; informative, and still light-hearted; comforting, and still sexual. It’s everything you could ever want in a podcast, in an internet personality, in your sisters-in-arms against the terrible war between capitalism and what humans actually need to survive & thrive. One of my favorite things about them is that they don’t have any corporate sponsors or ads, so you know what they’re saying is what they mean, not what their advertisers want them to say. If you’re able, support them on Patreon! If you’re not, listen to their podcast, take their advice to heart, reflect on your options, make your moves, then, with your newfound financial independence, become a patreon!

MelHubbs, you joyful sonnet!

Your review is so good that it reads suspiciously like something we paid you to write! But we’re too cheap for that—IT REAL!

Bitches Get Riches at the crossroads

All right. Time to level with you guys.

In keeping with 2020’s overarching theme (“everything is pure shit”), this year has become a real “shit or get off the pot” moment for the two of us.

Although I’m comfortable and doing fine, Piggy is still unemployed. And last week she received the last unemployment check she’s entitled to. It sucks. And it’s scary.

Being a partnership is awesome in almost every way. But one way that it sucks is that we have to earn double the amount of money to be truly profitable! (And no, before you ask, it’s not possible for us to only pay Piggy. Believe me, that was our original plan—but it turns out that’s not allowed in a 50/50 legal partnership. We must pay ourselves equally, or Uncle Sam will spank us. And he doesn’t do it in the sexy way—only the traumatic way!)

Piggy is doing okay for now. She has freelancing work, and an intact emergency fund. But understandably, anxiety and worry take their toll. She’s pushing through it, but it’s hard. Creativity and passion can’t thrive for long without some measure of safety and stability.

During these scary times, our Patreon community has been a lifeline. As more and more of you have joined us, it’s slowly crept up from grocery money to grocery and utility bill money! So thank you, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts thank you to those who’ve stepped up and joined.

But we’re kind of at a crossroads. Because of Piggy’s situation, we really need it to become “paying the mortgage” money. And it’s gotta get there pretty fast. Otherwise, it’s just not fair to ask Piggy to invest so much of her time in Bitches Get Riches, when she could be taking on higher paying freelancing work to keep herself afloat.

And trust me, you do not want a BGR that’s too Kitty-heavy. I am longwinded af, slowly losing my abilities to think and spell, and take every possible detour to inject disgusting sexual comments wherever they are least germane (although idk maybe you’re here for that).

Our new goal for ourselves, and you

With all of that in mind, we have a new goal: to produce season three of our podcast, we need 500 total Patreon donors.

Today we have… 294. So that’s, uhhhhh… a really ambitious goal!

It’s probably too ambitious. We’re probably gonna fail. Who cares, it’s 2020! The planet is on fire and god is already dead, so we have no reason not to give it our all!

We are leaving this in your hands. We—Piggy and I—believe that the world would be a better place if people could hear reliable, relatable financial wisdom funded by regular people, untainted by corporate sponsors with deep pockets who want us to push their capitalist crap upon you. And 294 of you have already demonstrated that you believe that too. Thank you, thank you, infinity thank yous to all of you who are already a part of our Patreon community. You are shining stars that smell faintly of vanilla.

For the rest of you: if you like what we do and you want us to keep doing it, please show us that you believe in it too. You can do that by joining us at the Bitches Get Riches Patreon.

We hope to be back soon for a third season. Until then, stay safe, stay sane, wear your masks, triple-check that you’re registered to vote, and save room for dessert. (What’s for dessert? So glad you asked—it’s the rich!)

For now, Bitches OUUUTTTTT!

Join the Bitches on Patreon

Join the Bitches on Patreon

[uwua3]

hi bunnie!!! i’m simping over juza again (but when am i not) so may i request some soft juza dating hc’s?? anything is fine 🥺👉👈 ilysm 💕

hi, mel~ ♡ i hope you’re doing well! :D i know you’re a fan of genshin impact, so i hope you enjoy this !!! <333 this isn’t as #Soft as i wanted, but i hope it makes you smile regardless 🥺 i love you lots !!! so does juza~ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊ (ahhh can you ever date a fatui harbringer though? hopefully some day TT)

summary: before juza leaves, he gives you a dream he will defend until the end

warnings: genshin impact spoilers(?), mentions of death

author’s note: no, i will not elaborate on why i have this extreme association of juza with childe. please do not ask me, as i will write *too much*. however, for any of my a3! genshin fans, please enjoy this piece for 11th fatui harbringer, hyodo juza! (there are no MAJOR spoilers for childe’s story—just his personality/family relations!)

+ i do NOT ship childe/traveller !!! childe is a young adult while traveller is canonically a teenager, i do not support the actual ship itself. please note juza is 18 in this writing :)

word count: 1,566

music: who are you, really? – mikky ekko, killer – the ready set

until we meet again, in snezhnaya.

🍁🍰 hyodo juza

They call Hyodo Juza, “Defender of Childhood Dreams”.

Because if you make a promise, you keep it. If you make a mistake, you apologize. If you give someone a dream, you defend it ‘til the end.

Despite always being away from his home country of Snezhnaya, Juza found himself keeping his word no matter where he went. As one of the older brothers of the Hyodo household, Juza could clearly remember his younger siblings’ tears as he departed all those years ago.

“Toymakers go all around the world for the best toys! I’ll send home lots of gifts, promise.” Juza swore on his life before disappearing away in the snow, wielding the emblem of the Fatui at eighteen.

“Brother Kumon, I will be home soon. I will take the first ship home, just as I promised—and you know how I always keep my promises.”

Yours faithfully, Your loyal knight

Juza sits in Liyue now, the ink staining the parchment against his will as he carefully signs his name. Gifts of all kinds sat beside him, such as kites, rattle drums, porcelain dolls, and snacks. After all, Juza did make a promise to send gifts. His younger brother, Kumon, deserved the best.

Before Juza could remember the chill of the snow down his spine and the numbing cold of frostbite he hadn’t felt in so long, the surface of his tea became unevenly rippled. At a distance, Juza could already tell it was you. Your rather odd companion, Paimon, could be sighted a mile away with how loud she was. On the other hand, you attentively listened as you stood out amongst the crowds.

Placing his quill down, Juza placed a pleasant smile upon his face. For a second, Snezhnaya disappeared. The frozen binding of his loyalty to her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, melted to reveal a heart longing for you to turn your head.

Even if it was for a moment, Juza’s head cleared of it all. His family waiting for him to conquer the world, his brother awaiting his latest toys, the expectation of laying all seven stars upon the Cryo Archon’s feet. All of it disappeared and all that was left was your face.

Honorary knight of Mondstadt. Hero that slayed Dvalin, or Stormterror. Lost twin looking for your sibling across Teyvat. You, a person from a different world, had made Juza forget why he had been fighting. Ever since he was fourteen, Juza fought tooth and nail just to survive. Now, Juza almost felt like he didn’t have to even move a finger as you met his eyes and returned his smile.

Juza would go through the abyss again, for three years even, to keep that smile.

When you walked over to his table of one, Juza lifted his hand in a wave as he called your name. Like you two were just friends, and nothing more. However, friends... wasn’t enough, not for Juza.

“Finally! My only worthy opponent, have you come for another fight?” Juza half-joked, his voice betraying his rumbling excitement and passion to be beaten once again. You always managed to gain the upper hand despite everything, and the rush of feeling like he was about to die gave him a thrill like no other.

But, you just shook your head as Paimon rolled her eyes, crossing her little arms mid-air. “Gosh, Juza, all you think about is fighting!” Juza held his hands up as if he surrended (he never actually would) and rested his hand on his spear, feeling the cool metal. Juza could imagine the electric sensation of his delusion, crackling for a fight regardless.

Only you could get him so worked up, Juza thought.

“No, I. . .” You trailed off, pausing to look away. The lowering sunset reflected in your eyes, like waves of Liyue’s harbor. Juza watched as your heart beat faster, uncertain, which was strange for such a renown legend in the making. Finally, you met his eyes with the confidence he knew and loved.

“I wanted to see you again before you left Liyue.” You honestly admitted and Juza let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The bustling merchants of the city of contracts continued to thrive around the two. Carts of many merchandises wheeled past them, children ran by making up fantasies beyond the ocean, and business never stopped as trade went on and on. This was Liyue at its finest, and Juza was sure he’d miss it. Or, more specifically, you.

“Really? Perhaps I’ll have to take you home to my family one day. In the snowy hills where everything is cold.” Juza spoke like he was telling a story, as if he was speaking to Kumon back in their one-room hut. As if the snowflakes were in their hair, gloves keeping their hands functional, and makeshift fire was burning weakly between them. You seemed to change, posture weakening as if you were... safe.

You relaxed and didn’t have that subconscious to fight, not when you were with Juza. While you and Juza were two opposite ends of the spectrum, you two had one similarity that bound you together: being born into a life where fighting was the only option. Your hand that always hovered above your weapon fell to your side, and you took a seat across from Juza.

Juza, eleventh Harbringer of the Fatui, feared by all for his chaotic wild card battles. Yet, here he was, writing back home and drinking tea with a traveller who had done the impossible. You made him feel like putting down his weapons and running away, you made him want a second chance at life. As long as it was with you. Only you.

“Snezhnaya... tell me about it.” You said and Juza’s fingers twitched. Visions flew by his mind rapidly, mostly unpleasant and hard to speak of at a place like this. Juza wouldn’t dare tell you about the droughts of hunger when the war left the people to fend for themselves, the iced-over corpses serving as markings in the mountains, nor the everlasting pine trees that spoke of disaster with each collapse. Juza couldn’t say it, not when you were looking at him so wholeheartedly.

“My favorite thing to do is ice-fishing.” Juza started and launched into a whirlwind of his number one hobby. Spoke of the early morning hours cutting holes into thick layers of ice, wobbly legs shaking on the large expanse of the frozen lake, and sitting in silence as wildlife swam beneath them. Juza told you about the spike of adrenaline when he could feel the ice crack haphazardly, the jagged splits uncommon but exciting every time. When Juza shared his most beloved memories, he couldn’t help but feel the Snezhnayan cold with the closest possible feeling to joy.

You listened once again, face pensive and eyes focused on Juza’s hand motions, content tone, and honesty above all. You could almost see the nameless lake, the snow banks, the shadows of fish. You exhaled, and despite the warm atmosphere of Liyue, you swore you could see your breath solidify as if it was Dragonspine.

When Juza closed off his story with a smile, you spoke without a care in the world. As if your sibling wasn’t missing. As if you didn’t have to find all seven archons. As if the fate of Teyvat wasn’t upon your shoulders. Right now, it was just you and Juza. Juza and you.

“When I come to see you in Snezhnaya, I want to have your best fish dish.”

Juza propped his elbow upon the table, before holding his pinky out. You took it with your own, and Juza shot you a wink of many unsaid words. A contract, if you will. Fitting for Liyue.

“It’s a promise. You know I always love testing my limits for my opponents.”

If you make a promise, you keep it.

Juza pulled back first, as he always did. Standing up, Juza paid the bill generously with his excessive Mora. The words “goodbye” left a spicy taste on his tongue, so Juza refused to say them. You two held each other’s gaze for a moment too long, but didn’t mention it.

“I’m sorry for leaving you so soon.”

If you make a mistake, you apologize.

You didn’t react immediately, you just nodded as if it was okay. It wasn’t, really. You both knew Juza’s sudden departure was shrouded in unknown mystery. Neither of you had the courage to properly address it, however.

“But, I’ll see you again. I promised, didn’t I?” Juza began walking away, knowing he was due to leave and run far, far away to his next assignment. Liyue had no place for him anymore. Even when the stars of Teyvat claimed there would always be a place for adventurers, Juza wasn’t so sure if they meant him as well.

All you wanted to do was run after him. Sprint towards Juza and make him stay, even though he never would. You wanted to stand up and weave through the crowds to see his back one last time. But, you didn’t. You didn’t want to make this harder on yourself than it already was.

Before Juza disappeared for a long, long time, he looked over his shoulder with a wave.

“Farewell, my friends. Until we meet again... in Snezhnaya.”

If you give someone a dream, you defend it ‘til the end.

[queenbirbs]

waiting for rain | Ethan x MC

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,786

Summary: After the funeral, Sloane catches a ride. Post chapter 11. 

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It’s a beautiful day. 

The last week has been nothing but blue skies and balmy temperatures, with autumn peeking its head around the corner. The city is lovely anytime of year, but Boston thrives in the fall. The Common and adjacent gardens come alive in a spray of colors as the leaves change, the canopy dipped in orange and yellow and red. 

It feels wrong, then, that the day is so nice and bright as they trudge along the rows of graves and back towards Bryce’s car. Glancing over her shoulder, Sloane frowns at the swath of black as Danny’s family gathers around the grave to watch the interment. Their labored breathing and soft cries carry over the open lawn and down to the road. 

“What a shitty fucking day.” Jackie kicks at a pile of loose gravel along the pavement with her heel.

“At least the rain held off,” Sienna pipes up from where she’s slumped against the car. Clenched in her shaking hand is a gladiolus that Danny’s sister gave her from the casket spray. Noticing Sloane’s attention on the flower, Sienna traces a finger along the white petals with a wobbly smile. “I’m going to press it in my copy of The Secret of Ninradell.”    

“Nerd,” Jackie mutters, coaxing a tremulous chuckle from Sienna. 

Beside them, the doors unlock with a droning whir. The three of them pile into the back; Elijah and Bryce’s voices drift down as they approach. 

“You know, all those parking tickets you keep getting are starting to make a lot more sense now.”

“These hands are for performing surgical miracles, not parallel parking on an incline.”

“A kid with a learner’s permit could parallel park this, dude. Your car is the Chevrolet equivalent of a sardine can.”

“We’re well aware of that,” Jackie chimes in from the center seat. “So can you two hurry it up?” 

As Bryce helps Elijah into the passenger seat, Sloane catches sight of Ethan’s car tucked in along the other side of the access road. She caught a brief glance of him at the graveside service, but he disappeared into the crowd of mourners soon after her impromptu eulogy. The sun’s reflection on his windshield prevents her from seeing if he’s even inside. But then, a few cars down, Harper gives a little goodbye wave towards his car as she and Aurora reach her own vehicle. 

Sloane throws open the door. Jackie frowns and reaches out for her as she slides out. 

“Hey, what are you--”

“I’m going to catch a ride with Dr. Ramsey.” At the wave of worried expressions she receives, Sloane sighs. “I’m okay. I promise. You guys shouldn’t… I’ll see you at home.” 

With that pithy attempt at reassurance, she shuts the door and crosses over to the S-Class. The driver’s side window rolls down before she reaches it, revealing Ethan in his customary black suit. His striking blue eyes are tinged red -- a sight Sloane has become accustomed to over the last week when catching herself in the bathroom mirror. 

“Hi,” she says.

“Hello,” he returns. He glances down her figure, as if cataloging something, and then back up to meet her eyes. “Come on, then.”

“Thanks.” 

She crosses to the passenger side and settles into the seat, avoiding his curious gaze by feigning a struggle with the seatbelt. Thankfully, he drops whatever question is plaguing him and starts the engine. Within a few minutes, they’re cruising south down the highway. The classical station finishes its latest piece and the suave-voiced host segways into a round of commercials. When the local news spot starts, both of them reach for the volume button, their fingers bumping clumsily. Ethan reaches it first and turns off the radio, then reaches down to capture Sloane’s hand with his. He links their fingers and squeezes, once, then again, before resting their clasped hands against the leather armrest. His thumb makes easy, gentle strokes along her skin. 

Sloane eases back into her seat. The dull roar of the road isn’t enough to fill the aching silence inside her head. It makes her think of being back in that tented room, all alone, waiting to die. 

“The service was lovely, as was your eulogy.” 

“Sienna should’ve gotten to speak. She -- those were her words, all she could bear to write, but she asked… well, begged me at the last minute to say them for her.” 

“That was kind of you to do.”

Her eyes clench tight at his praise. She focuses on the measured sweeps of his thumb, but all the bitterness in her chest keeps building and building until it bursts free. 

“It should’ve been raining. Why was it… why did it have to be so sunny today? It should’ve rained. He deserved that much, at least. He was one of the only staff on my side when Landry was trying to sabotage me. He didn’t need proof or need to hear my friends vouch for me. He just believed me, straight up. And he was so sweet, and so kind, and so funny and now he’s dead, and I know we took Lasagna’s oath to not play God, but if I could, I would bring back Travis just to kill him for all the hurt he caused, and I know that goes against every--”

“Hey.” Ethan glances up from the road and over to meet her watery gaze. “It’s all right. You’re allowed to feel angry, and hurt.”

“I know,” she says, but it still feels dirty, somehow, to agree. She survived, didn’t she? Why should she get the privilege to fall apart at the seams when two people are dead and buried six feet under? 

She keeps quiet for the rest of the drive. Unfortunately, it’s a rather short one, what with the cemetery being only twenty minutes north of the city. All too soon, they’re crossing the Tobin Bridge. The city skyline crowds the horizon, stacks of gray and glass forking up into the cloudless sky. Ethan takes the wide curve of an exit that crosses the Charles River and into the tunnel, down below the blue blood streets of Boston. As he prepares to merge over to take them towards her apartment, she squeezes his hand to grab his attention. 

“Can I…?” she trails off, regretting how weak the request sounds. She bites back a relieved sigh when he pulls his focus away from the side mirror and over to her. 

“Of course.” 

They make their way through the ever-present downtown congestion before he turns down a side street and into his building’s garage. Neither speak as they exit the car. His hand finds hers once more as they step into the elevator. Jenner greets them at the door with her favorite stuffed duck, insisting on meeting her quota of belly rubs before allowing them entrance. 

“Would you like a drink?” Ethan asks as he steps over the sprawled form of his dog with practiced ease. 

“Yes, please.” 

After a few more pats, Sloane wanders over into the kitchen. Ethan’s suit jacket lays slung across the island, a more telling sign of his mental state than anything visible on his face. His tie joins the pile as he pours them both several fingers of scotch. She takes the tumbler and knocks it back, ignoring the fierce burn at the back of her throat; she hands it back for a refill. 

“Fine,” he sighs, “but this isn’t a jello shot at some tiki bar in Panama City Beach.”

“I wouldn’t know, seeing as I spent my spring breaks waiting tables,” she mutters against the rim of her glass, taking a small sip at his behest. 

“I hated every second of it, if it’s any consolation.”

The murmured confession draws her up short.

“Wait -- you were a PCB spring-breaker? You? The man who can’t name a single artist on the top forty hits? The person whose idea of a good time is reading the green journal and annotating the margins with all the mistakes?”  

“I don’t see how knowledge of Harry Mars’s discography would increase my enjoyment in life.”

Sloane’s face breaks into a grin at the name faux pas, prompting a scowl from him. “What? You said it yourself that I don’t know--”

“No, no, ignore me. Go on.” She rests her hip against the counter. “Please tell me about how you wound up in Florida for spring break.”

“It was Tobias’s idea, actually. He told me we were going to a medical conference in Atlanta. It wasn’t until we passed through Atlanta and he showed no sign of stopping that he told me where we were actually going. By that point, it was far too late to request he turn around. I was, in effect, doomed.”

“Doomed to spend a week at the beach. Poor you.” Rolling her eyes, she knocks her elbow into his side. “Did you at least have some fun?”

“I did. Well, after I went into a store and bought some more... appropriate clothing. Everything in my bag was pressed khakis and polos.” 

Her mind immediately conjures up a younger Ethan, wearing board shorts and flip flops in whatever searing color the local beach shop sold. 

“There has to be pictures, right? I’ve met Tobias, he’s too much of a snake not to have snapped a photo or two.” 

“I’m sure he does,” Ethan agrees. “For blackmail purposes, of course.” 

“And here I was hoping that our time in Miami was your most memorable trip to the Sunshine State.”

“It was.” The weak little smirk she wears disappears, folding under the intense scrutiny of his gaze as it rakes across her. “Why did you ride back with me?” he asks. 

“Because Bryce’s car is ‘the Chevrolet equivalent to a sardine can,’ according to Elijah.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge her lame attempt at brushing aside the question. When the silence grows too long between them, Sloane drags in a shaky breath and caves. “Because being around them, having them dote on me and worry about me, it’s… suffocating. And not because I don’t love them, or appreciate them, but I don’t… I don’t see the point. They should be able to grieve without me burdening them.”

“Sloane.” The way he says her name with all the care in the world drives that guilt deeper. She wants to shrug away his hold on her as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, but she doesn’t. She sinks into his embrace, breathing in the scent of his cologne, feeling the thud of his heart against her cheek. “You are not a burden.”

“Hearing that and knowing that are two different things,” she points out. 

“Then I’ll repeat it a thousand more times until you get it through your thick head.” 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m sad, and hurt, and angry about Danny. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, and neither did Bobby. And Rafael, he almost died, and-- and I almost died. And I’m sad, and hurt, and angry about that. But what gives me the right to feel that way, when I got to live, and they didn’t? Danny, he… he begged Travis to let us go, and all I did was stand there. I fucking stood there and let him kill my friend.”

She doesn’t notice the tears on her face, not until Ethan catches them and wipes them away. “And even after you came in, even after I was wheeled out and got to see Kyra, even after I was discharged, there’s been this crushing weight on my chest. I even wrote goodbye letters on my phone, but I can’t bring myself to delete them. Because what if we’re wrong? It’s like… like what if my body suddenly rejects the antidote and I’m back in that bubble? Like I’m going to wake up and be back in that room, as if this is all a last-ditch effort my brain has conjured up to help me cope with dying.”

Ethan makes a pained noise in the back of his throat. Gathering her impossibly closer, he presses his lips to her hair. 

“This is real. You’re okay. You’re safe, Sloane. This is real.”

“But I don’t want it to be. I want it to all be some sick dream. They wouldn’t’ve even been there if it weren’t for me. If I hadn’t stolen the senator from Mass Kenmore, Danny and Bobby would still be alive. I just… I want to go back. I want to order them all out of that room before Travis ever gets his hand on that canister. If I could trade places with them, we wouldn’t be burying our friends.”

“You’re wrong,” he tells her. “If you were the only one in that room, we’d be burying you. And after coming close to such a thing, it isn’t a reality I’m ever willing to face.” 

Sloane shakes her head as the tears come faster and faster, her body trembling against his. She feels as if she’s drowning, but her head’s above water. 

“The responsibility for what happened lies solely with Travis,” he tries to assure her. “He’s the one who pulled the trigger. He’s the one who was determined to get his revenge, no matter who got caught in the crossfire. He admitted as much to me in his last moments without an ounce of regret.”

“Ethan, I…” her throat closes around the rest of her plea, but somehow, he hears the words. 

His arms loop around her waist, holding her up as her knees buckle under the sudden weight of her grief. His words become nothing more than soft murmurings as he picks her up and carries her off down the hall. 

In his bedroom, he sets her down on the bed. Kneeling before her, he picks up one foot and then the next, unbuckling the strappy heels she wears. Sloane leans forward and strokes against the grain of his stubble; she drags in a steadying breath when he leans into her touch. She reaches down for the hem of her dress, but he beats her to it. Raising her arms instead, she lets him slide the dark fabric over her head. He adds his own clothing to the floor, then joins her in his bed, his naked skin warm against hers. 

Under the covers, Ethan tucks her there against his chest. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his fingers tracing along her bare skin. It reminds her of that last morning they shared together, after the trial. The heartache now is different, vicious in that way only death can be. Sloane burrows closer, wishing she could bottle this feeling of safety and drink from it on the darker days ahead. 

“Yours was the longest,” she admits, her voice sounding small in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” he murmurs. 

“Your letter.” 

The line of him stiffens, his hand stilling its movement. 

“Hand me your phone.”

She rolls over and digs through the pile of their clothing, retrieving her phone from the pocket of her dress and handing it off to him. He holds it between them so she can watch as he navigates to her notepad app. The letters are all there, just as she said, in alphabetical order. She doesn’t miss how his thumb hovers above Naveen’s. 

“I asked him to look after you,” she explains, biting her lip against the rush of emotion at knowing the words hidden beneath the names. 

“When did you write these?”

Ethan’s eyes move from the screen and over to hers, tears collecting in the cradle of his lower lid. Her gaze never waves from his as she answers. 

“After you took Raf away. It… became real, after that. Not that it wasn’t real before, with Danny, but to see him fall into a coma right next to me was a wake-up call. I didn’t want that to happen to me. Not without being able to say goodbye to the people I loved.���   

Leaning across, he kisses her temple, and then her cheek, and then her lips. Then, with a few, quick taps, he deletes the letters and returns her phone. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. At her raised brow, he doubles down. “Not for-- that was for you. I’m saying thank you because you listened to me.” 

She snuggles close once more when he curls his arm around her and flashes him a curious smile. 

“Go on.”

“You didn’t give up,” he tells her, his voice gone thick with emotion. 

Between the sheets, her hand finds his.

“You didn’t give up, either,” she reminds him.

“On you?” he hums, pulling their linked hands towards himself to press a kiss to her fingers. “Never.”

------

Author notes and what-have-yous:

So, I learned that only eleven percent of medical schools still recite the Hippocratic oath verbatim, and about thirty-three percent use Lasagna’s modern oath (which is why I included it instead).This is coming from a few articles I read, all seemingly based in the U.S., so it may not pertain to every school. 

The ‘blue blood streets of Boston’ is pulled directly from a Bob Seger song, though there is a historical connotation behind it. 

The green journal is another name for the American Journal of Medicine. 

[littlemessyjessi]

Torn: Remus Lupin Story: PS OC:Chapter Five: Fearless First Year

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Remus Lupin Imagine Turned Story

Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.

Remus Lupin x Vega Black (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)

———————————————–

“You occasionally see one, and it’s the thrill of a lifetime. But mostly all you ever see is a cloud of dust after they are gone. It’s their stubborn ability to survive that makes them so remarkable.” — Velma “Wild Horse Annie” Johnston

----------

Chapter Song Inspiration: 

“Fearless” - Olivia Holt 

--------

Days turned to weeks and by now all of Hogwarts had come to know Rowan Black as the Feisty First Year. Much to her embarrassment. James wouldn't shut up. Sirius was no help. They'd made BUTTONS with her face on them surrounded charmed blue flames. "Here, get your Feisty First Year buttons! The Rebellious Ravenclaw!" Vega’s blood boiled as she watched the two of them walk around the courtyard passing out buttons like she was some kind of freak at the circus. "James!" she hissed at him and he whirled around to see the very angry little eleven year old. "Come here!" "Ah, here she is now, ladies and gents!" he grinned and nudged Sirius who winked at her mischievously. She deadpanned at the both of them before searching out the only person who she could reason with. A person who just so happen to be hiding his face in a book. "Remus." she said placing her hands down on the table in front of the shy Gryffindor. He cleared his throat and looked up at her sheepishly, "Vega..." She arched a brow at him. "I didn't have anything to do with it..." he lied. Those stormy grey orbs narrowed at him viciously, "I'm a fairly good lie detector, Remus John Lupin." His brows rose into his hair line, "How did you know my middle name?" "I'm also wildly observant." she seethed. "Now, make them stop." "I can't..." he mumbled not wanting to go against his only friends. Although, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little afraid of her. Eleven or not....Vega had the ability to be terrifying when she wanted to be. "Coward." she snapped and he sunk further down. She was angry now but maybe she'd forgive him when she saw what was coming. "Step right up! Take your chance! Who's brave enough to face off against the Feisty First Year?!" James boasted and she rounded on him. "James Potter!" she hissed. "I am NOT getting in a fight." "There she goes, boys! Wound up already! Who's brave enough to take her on?" Sirius added. "Sirius...Orion...Black..." she seethed at her older cousin. "Stop encouraging him!" "What's the matter bitty baby? Afraid of a rematch?" Vega knew that voice and she glowered over at her older cousin....who now had her wand back...and an entourage. "Bellatrix, dear cousin!" Sirius boasted with a grin and started towards her, "Have a button!" "Get that thing away from me!" Bella snapped and slapped his hand away from her. "Oh, come now!" Sirius smirked. "Say, you beat V in a rematch and we'll put YOUR face all over the buttons!" "Sirius!" Vega snapped at him in disbelief. "I will not-" "What's wrong?" Bella sneered. "Afraid of a little competition....frightful first year?" Vega glanced over at her older cousin, Andromeda with an arched brow. "You're encouraging this?" Vega pressed in irritation. "No." Andromeda said. "I'm not." "And if I were to accept?" Vega challenged....effectively causing a roar of applause at a possible dueling match making her sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. 

"Hypothetically speaking," Andromeda began. "If you were to accept in my presence I'd be obligated to stop you but since I've just remembered my potions homework....I'll be going over there." Andromeda said with a knowing smirk. For a prefect...she was oddly cool about a lot of things. Vega narrowed her eyes and ground her teeth together. They were idiots. All of them. Absolute idiots. "Let's do this." The students around her roared to life and Bella smirked. "One on one." Vega said. "Wand to wand." "Afraid cousin?" Bella taunted. "No, but I'm not stupid." Vega snapped. "You've always been a cheater. People who lack talent tend to go that route." A round of laughter coursed through the students at Bella's expense. "You little!" Bella snapped drawing her wand but Vega had already cast the disarming charm....landing Bella's wand in her hand. Again. "It's your temper than blocks your vision, Bella." Vega sighed with a shake of her head...though never taking her eyes off her opponent. Vega tossed it back to her. "Again." she said. The fire in Bellatrix' eyes told her that she aimed to hurt her this time but Vega was prepared. She never wanted to hurt others but Bella had a way of pressing her buttons. What happened next was fast and rapid fire. Hexes, curses, deflections and disarming charms flew between the two girls like lightning. Beams of light and gusts of power. What started as a simple duel had quickly turned into something else and Andromeda had already joined the group again. "You little blood traitor!" Bella roared at her younger cousin. "No one is here to protect you now! I can show you how our family treats traitors!" "Bellatrix!" Andromeda snapped but the grin on her younger sister's face told her she wouldn't be stopping. "Bella, no!" Andromeda lunged forward. She recognized the wand movement of the Cruciatis curse. Bellatrix turned on Sirius because she knew that was the way to get to Vega anyway. However, Vega had cast a protective shield in front of him throwing her back. "Get. away. from. him." Vega growled visciously. "Struck a nerve have I?" Bella smirked. “Ready to give up, Bitty Baby?” 

“Not likely.” Vega said. 

“Scared little baby!” Bella cackled. “Shaking with fear!” 

Vega snapped her wand around her head like a whip and the students backed up as the protection shield in front of Sirius widened....and encased the two girls in a dome. Andromeda ran forward in a panic but smacked into a barrier between herself and the girls. Things had escalated far quicker than she had anticipated....and now she couldn't stop it. Her fist beat on the barrier and she was soon joined by Narcissa and Sirius. "Sirius, make her stop!" she pleaded. "I can't!" he said. "She's protecting me! You can't talk to her when she's like that!" "Vega!" Andromeda said. "Take it down! Bella, don't you dare!" But she was too late. Bellatrix had turned to her younger with a glare. She took in the younger girl's form. She was using magic that was a bit beyond her level...and it was taking a toll on her. Blood ran from her nose and her grey eyes took on a glossy appearance. "Look at you." Bella sneered. "You're not even worth the air. Perhaps, I should just rid us all of you now. You can join your dirty blood traitor parents! Dear old dead mummy and daddy!”  "Sirius..." Andromeda whispered in horror. "Someone get the headmaster! Go! Somebody get some help!" Several beams of light and red sparks were shot into the air to alert the staff while other students ran for help. "Bellatrix! No!" Andromeda stared at her sister. She knew that look. Bella thrived on power. She thrived on having something's life in the palm of her hands. She was the child who set ant hills on fire. She was the child who choked frogs until they stopped moving. She was dark...and she loved seeing the light leave things. She could see now that she planned to do the same to Vega. Bella raised her wand, "Good bye, cousin." Vega struggled to her feet but she stood as tall as she could. She'd be damned if she let Bella take her on her knees. She'd give it all she had....even if it killed her. "Avada Kedavr-" "Expecto Patronum!" A beam of silver exploded from Vega’s wand.

“You got it, love.” she heard her father’s voice in her ear causing tears to well up. 

“Show ‘em what we’re made of, babydoll.” her mother’s voice in her other ear. 

Vega pushed the last bit of magic she had into the spell and an enormous horse erupted from the tip of Vega’s wand and charged forward.  

 It reared up over Bella's stunned form that had been blown backwards onto her back. 

The magnificent creature let out a powerful sound as it stood over the shaking second year's form. "I'm sorry!" Bella cried. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't- please don't!" Vega struggled to stand as she concentrated on the magic she'd just performed. It was far too advanced for her to even attempt and yet somehow she'd managed to do it. But it had taken every last bit she had left. As she collapsed, the horse vanished, the barrier broke and a rush of feet surrounded both the girls. The last thing Vega heard before she lost consciousness was, "That's impossible. A first year has never been able to perform a barrier spell that solid." "Barrier? Are you blind? She just produced a full formed patronus! This is amazing! My sister is amazing!"

“Not your sister. Your cousin.” 

“Oh fuck off! That’s my baby sister! My fucking amazing, badass, queen of a baby sister! This is fucking wicked!”  "Mr. Potter take Mr. Black to the Gryffindor common room immediately!" It made her smile a bit Sirius’ ability to be an absolute dork at the worst possible moment. It was that thought that let her slip into the darkness peacefully while the whispers ignited around her. 

Vega Black. 

Not the Feisty First Year. 

The Fearless First Year. 

------

Chapter Four 

Chapter Six Coming Soon

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—–

Hello my lovelies!

Woooo child!  We got some friction! How do we feel about Vega fiesty retaliation? I’d love to hear from you!

Here is another rewrite of a previous work of mine that I had on Mibba! I did a bit of reworking on the character, her name and her backstory because I just felt like she deserved more!  I would love to know what you think of little Vega!

So please comment, reblog with thoughts and/or smash the ask box!  I do so love hearing from you my loves!

Love,

Kenny

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@ tb-ctn

Love, Kenny

[swynlake-spill]

Boba, please bully some of our shyer residents into posting selfies! I am dying for some Rarer Insta Content.

ok i’ll try here we go 

@vixey-chakraborty KEEP THE COW CONTENT COMING BUT ALSO LET UR OWN NATURAL RADIANCE SHINE!!! I LOVE U PLEASE IM ASKING SO NICELY BUT ALSO VERY LOUDLY SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR 

@rikuxnakayama sir  i cannot keep buying overpriced coffee from [name redacted] just for the ten seconds of eye contact we have i simply do not make enough money have pity on me and POST 

@vitani-blackwell u arent really shy so i dont understand how you are not posting daily thirst traps i have seen your body and therefore seen god please RESUME REGULAR CONTENT 

@melody-the-unwritten typing ur username just now made me cry. :( melody i MISS YOu. melody i dont think u understand u could be miss swynlake if u wanted... this is your YEAR

@princess-ting-ting you post extremely quality pics of your fish and family jigsaw puzzles and stuff and thats valid and good plz dont stop but also you are the qin i respect in this world and i think you deserve to be told how beautiful u are js 

@littlelectriceelduh ur mysterious and look like the boy my mum warned me about. plz indulge my worst desires and help me star in my very own all time low pop punk fantasy 

@arista-the-musical BLASPHEMY that i am tagging a triton wtf did your sisters teach u!! arista when i say that i believe if you post selfies tagged #stopglobalwarming that it could maybe inspire a movement im not even being hyperbolic i think the power is in your hands and you should use it 

@cinderellaashbourne HONEY PLEASE COME HOME tiana as her roommate why are you not instilling in ella the confidence needed to become a powerhouse insta mom im just saying she could build an empire off her smile 

@babettexdurand seeing u makes me go  🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 sincerely do not think there are words... 

@evil--endeavors you want to be taken seriously as a business woman, totally fair! however, fourth wave feminism said stuff about idk owning ur sexuality or-- nvm dont do it for me do it for the young LESBIANS. also kick me in the face :) 

@one-lucky-lad small confession...i have a crush on this darling I KNOW I KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING however i am not immune to the specific charms of his beautiful blue eyes. im just saying haha what if we kissed 

@tink-bell tink used to post all the time but then she got her heart broken or something and i just think she needs to build up all that very valid fierce tink bell confidence she was famous for!! tink PLEASE give me the bed selfie i know you have! txt me u up ;) ? ask me to netflix and chill! also post on instagram obviously! 

@sanmononoke what is going on with this person real talk besides ofc being very hot as per swynlake’s hotness requirement. idk if she has an instagram. bet she’d post like feet pics and shit like that. think that we need a little bit of that spice in swynlake dont you!!! 

@moon-yeongjun frankly it is a crime that we are all collectively robbed of the journey that would be jun moon instagram experience. if you dont think he’s hot you’re lying to yourself!! new rule every time jun posts a petition he owes us a selfie its only fair idk im once again putting tiana to the task of making that happen

@notmuchofatail he’s been posting more lately but it is not enough for me. gregory eeyore is my past present and future. like im in love with him is what im saying. 

@a-merman-not-a-guppy stop pretending like you’re not a handsome lad its EMBARRASSING. what is the point also of designing ur own clothes if you arent putting up your wares on instagram. again this is just common sense i cannot believe im giving this immaculate advice for free. 

@notbad-justsungthatway again she posts decently but i think she should post more bc she is easily in the ten hottest people ever in swynlake. its a fact not an opinion and we’d all feel a lot calmer if she was active daily on instagram

@pinkpearlpark the coolest of the teens!! i need her to post so she can teach ME how to post. like idk what im doing teach me the ways of being an attractive rich cool person miss park! 

@bucktoothed--ice-prince again idk whats going on here he’s this very mysterious stranger who blew into town out of nowhere. maybe going without an instagram is the whole point but i would rather write dumb things on ur posts tbh

@trickster-knownas-pan AND A THIRD person who i know nothing about. maybe i am just nosy but also you are hot so you owe me something thats how survival of the fittest works maybe !!!!!!! i failed science three times!!!! 

@devyn-morey lol i know he posts a lot but obviously! obviously! 

@geehosaphat on the other hand martin has two posts on his instagram maybe and thats abysmal. martin you do realize you’re like. hot right. i mean it like you could be in a magazine. you’re hot. take off your shirt sometime maybe if you’re comfortable so you can flaunt it! 

@winndeavor again i know ur a serious business person who has a certain brand to maintain. on the other hand: you have abs. much to think about i know. 

@hclyghcst DISGUSTING that you could win jewel of the season or w/e and then disappear from my life. you owe me like ten selfies at this point! you’re cute kind and a good friend to people in your life! fuck im obsessed with u!! 

@vvinter-queen and now we shout out to her sister ANNA to help her. anna how is it that u have a moderately thriving bookstagram and yet elsa has no idea what a filter is. intervene. fix it. she’s beautiful. imagine how much ice cream u will sell. 

@gleamdncglow u dont have to post bc it might actually piss me off considering how pretty you are. but if you want to i guess (please please please please please please) 

@gabriella-marino you know what’s the best way to get to know ppl in town and make friends! yeah ur right, its thirst traps on instagram! i think you’re so cute on a serious note please tell me more about u...maybe in the captions on your thirst trap for instagram! 

@edwardandalasia honestly just curious how it would go if someone showed edward who is maybe suffering from some textbook case of amnesia how instagram works. you also have the best skin ive ever seen. send me ur tips. ok thank u!!!

[thestanceyg]

Darcyland Drabble Race the Second

So here’s my contribution to another drabble race. Again under the cut because there’s a LOT.

Quantum 1 “Oh my god,” Jane said, flopping down on to the couch next to her. “I had forgotten this show was even a thing.”

“It’s my stay home from school sick comfort show,” Darcy said as she pulled her blanket tighter around her. The chills she was experiencing were no joke.

“Man, I wonder how the creators of Quantum Leap feel now? Like…that tech kinda actually exists, even if it’s classified.”

“I don’t think they know about it Jane,” Darcy said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You know, on account of it being classified and all.”

2 “The fuck does this word mean?” her dumbass lab partner asked.

“Which word?” she asked with a put upon sigh.

“Quantum,” he said, pointing to literally the first question.

“Thor wept,” she muttered under her breath before turning to him more fully. “Here,” she said, pointing back to the textbook. “Definition’s right here. I’ll even read it to you. A discrete quantity of energy proportional in magnitude to the frequency of the radiation it represents.”

“No need to be a bitch about it.”

She idly wondered if killing him was a possibility. “Sure sure,” she said, sugary sweet. “Since I’m such a bitch, don’t worry about me helping again.”

3 “I don’t think the quantum physics work that way,” Fitz said with a tilt of his head as he looked at the projection.

“I mean, I didn’t either,” Darcy agreed, joining him, “but I also don’t doubt our modeling software. Something’s happening here that’s unexpected, and that means either we have something wrong, or there’s something we have yet to figure out that’s acting on everything.”

“You know what that means?” he said with a smile.

“More research dates,” she said before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Can’t wait,” he said before claiming her lips.

4 “Quantum Laser Tag is the best!” she yelled, highly offended. “I can’t believe you just besmirched it’s good name!”

“Err, all I said was that laser tag was kinda lame.”

“It is not!” she practically whined. “Okay, dude, maybe you’ve not had good laser tag experiences, but I have to say that does not mean you get to shit on literally the greatest arena in at least the tristate area.”

“You’re…really passionate about this,” he said giving her a look she couldn’t decipher.

“So is this your way of bowing out of our first date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hell no,” he said, smiling.

5 “I’m just saying, that the names at this bar are not scientifically accurate,” she complained. 

“Jane. Literally none of us give a shit. We are here to get shitfaced and giggle over our jobs being somehow alcohol themed,” Darcy reprimanded her. 

“I’m definitely having a Quantum Blast,” Helen said, sidling up to the bar.

“Really?” Darcy said giving her a disgusted look. “I mean…there’s something about adding the word ‘blast’ to it that turns me off from it.”

“Fair,” Helen agreed. “But it has triple sec in it and I’m in the mood.”

Darcy tilted her head in acknowledgment of the wisdom.

6 “I promise to never play with the quantum field again if we can just get out of this alive,” Darcy said more to herself than anyone else.

“What?” Scott asked.

“Just promising myself to try and stick to my field in the future should I survive whatever this is.” She gestured to the everything around them that really defied understanding.

Scott nodded. “I wish I could make a similar vow, but it’s kinda my field now. Though this,” he looked around a bit, “is indeed disconcerting. I could, err, try to make it up to you when we get out of here.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes?”

7 “Nope. Not happening. I will not be teaching quantum physics as my teaching assignment next semester. It’s not my field. I would have to do my own research just to feel like I was giving the students an adequate course,” she said as soon as the department head had offered her the schedule.

“Well you don’t have a lot of options here. You’re still a candidate and not a post doc so you don’t get to argue with me really.”

“This is some serious bullshit,” Darcy groaned. “But seriously, Johnson would be way better at this. He even has done research in this field.”

“Yes well…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darcy groaned. “You’re doing him a favor and I’m the one that has to deal with the consequences?”

Nebula 1 “And if you look here,” the professor droned on as he used his laser pointer, “you can see a nebula that is starting to die.”

“Kinda like me in this class,” she muttered under her breath. The guy next to her laughed, but covered it with a cough. She looked at him and winked, and he honest to Thor blushed. Well damn if that wasn’t the cutest thing that she’d ever seen.

She grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote her name on it and slid it over to him.

He read it and smiled a bit and wrote back.

Fitz. Nice name. She couldn’t wait to be screaming it later.

2 Nebula was very murderous and Darcy kinda loved her for it. It seemed like there was a lot of deep seated anger that the woman was ready and willing to take out on anyone and everyone. You had to love her unapologetic rage. Darcy couldn’t help but admire how she didn’t give a shit if someone thought it made her less attractive because anyone dumb enough to voice that sentiment would probably end up with a knife in them. Was it wrong that she was a little turned on?

That thought made her come up short.

Shit. She didn’t have time for a crush.

3 The fabric technically had nebulas all over it, though the fabric name had the word galaxy. In the grand scheme of things it really didn’t matter, but it annoyed her for some reason. It seemed that all sorts of little things were bothering her lately, and she couldn’t find the reason. Why should she care that she had “galaxy fabric” that was actually nebula fabric? She would make the damn pillow covers and then she could tell her friends it was nebula print. Giving up caffeine had been a bad idea. It made her crabby. She should probably reconsider her idea to stop drinking coffee.

4 Nebula Swirl was possibly the best flavor of ice cream she had ever eaten, and it was looking like she would only be able to eat it for one more month if something drastic didn’t happen. She took her cone and snapped a picture and posted it to Instagram with the tag SaveGalacticCones. Maybe someone would see it and drop some cash their way. It wasn’t their fault that the freak storm had damaged the property and left them paying off heavy repair bills. They deserved to thrive, if for no other reason than it was the ice cream of her youth and she had so little to remember her childhood by.

5 “I don’t research in the Horseshoe Nebula,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “In fact, I don’t even look within a million light years of there. So please explain to me in very small words why you think your project should get any of my grant money.”

“Because I need to fund my research Dr. Witherow said. “It’s as simple as that. I need more funding and you just won a lot of money. There’s no way you’ll need all of it, so umbrella my study under your project and we’ll both win.”

“No, dude, we won’t ‘both win.’ That grant is actually just one of three for my project because it doesn’t cover everything.” Thor save her from entitled scientists.

6 “It looks kind a like a nebula” Jane said as she looked at the giant bruise on Darcy’s hip.

“I guess that’s fitting because the pain is out of this world,” Darcy tried to joke. It didn’t quite come off as carefree as she had hoped, but that was possibly because she was an hour out from her next pain pill and the current one seemed to have mostly worn off.

“Darce,” Jane said with a bit of warning in her voice. “You’re going to let me coddle you because that’s what I need. I think you do too.”

Darcy sighed. “I know.”

7 A burst of nebula like light flashed before her eyes as the hit landed.

She didn’t pass out, but it was a near thing.

“You will do what we want, Dr. Lewis!” the man spit at her.

“No. I won’t,” she argued. “And you hit like a little kid.”

The man’s face turned a red she didn’t realize was possible before he backhanded her, hitting the already blooming bruise from the earlier punch. “I think you will change your mind.”

“I’d rather die.”

“That can be arranged,” he sneered.

“I doubt it,” she countered. “You need me too much. And if you keep hitting my head, it’ll be that much longer before I’m even capable of doing what you ask.”

Vortex 1 Of course it was a solar vortex. Or, at least that’s what she was calling this abomination in her mind. She wasn’t sure what else to call what appeared to be a tornado of sunlight that was leaving a path of fire and destruction behind it. Why couldn’t normal things happen to her?

She would have to blame Jane. Shit like this never happened to her before New Mexico.

Of course, it could also be that this kind of madness would still happen to her even if she had never been an intern, but blaming Jane felt familiar. That woman definitely owed her ice cream for changing her life like this.

2 “It’s not a vortex” Dr. Strange said, the pinched look on his face clearly telling him what he thought of Darcy and her inability to call it whatever name he had given his portal thingy. She knew it wasn’t a vortex. It was just fun to razz him and see him get annoyed.

He was kinda cute when he was annoyed.

Well, he was kinda cute regardless, but his cuteness was focused on her whenever he was annoyed because 99% of the time it was her fault.

It wasn’t healthy, but it was working so she’d deal with the mental health implications later.

3 “I promise you that’s not a tornado,” she said to her storm chasing boyfriend. “I know it looks like one, but, very unfortunately for the entire town of Lawton, it’s actually an anomaly called a temporal vortex.”

“What does that mean, Darcy?” he yelled over the roar of the storm.

“It means that if we don’t get out of the path of that thing we’ll end up in an alternate reality that may or may not include a breathable atmosphere.”

“Right,” he said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’d like to live to have another date so one storm evasion coming up.”

4 “It’s called The Vortex,” Helen said reverently as she placed what Darcy thought was a fishbowl on the table. It had six straws sticking out of it.

“Why?” Pepper asked, looking at the drink cautiously.

Helen shrugged. “Does it matter? What matters is it tastes like sunshine and amaretto and goes down easy and will get you shitfaced if that’s what you want.”

Jane grabbed a straw and took a long slurp. “I need to get shitfaced and Helen isn’t wrong. I don’t care what’s in the Vortex. It can be made of baby souls and I will keep drinking it. It’s a fucking delight in my mouth.”

5 “I am sick of the Polar Vortex and it’s technically only been here for three hours,” Darcy said as she cuddled more into the blankets and tried to burrow even further into the warmth of her boyfriend.

“I’m not exactly excited about it either,” he agreed, “but at least it means we have guaranteed time together. That’s been a rare occurrence lately.”

Darcy nodded and debated it it was worth getting her arm out of the blanket to grab her hot chocolate.

“Darce?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. His eyes were soft. “I love you.”

Her breath stopped. He hadn’t said that before. Maybe the Polar Vortex wasn’t that bad.

6 “Sedona is weird,” Spencer said with a frown.

“Are you talking about the vortices?” she asked.

“I am,” he said, studying the map they had been given at the little tourism station. “I just. I can’t believe people believe in this stuff.”

“Ehh,” she said. “There’s a lot of shit I wouldn’t have believed in before it happened to me. You know, like Asgardians and such.”

“Maybe,” he agreed with pursed lips.

She pointed to a spot on the map. “Look, that one’s on a trail. We said we were going to do some hiking, so we’ll go there and treat it scientifically.”

He perked up just like she knew he would. “Sounds like a plan,” he said with a kiss to her cheek.

7 “I am a vortex of emotion,” she said before throwing herself on the couch.

Pepper handed her a glass of white wine. “What happened today?”

“He’s just so cute,” she practically whined. “And he has no idea that literally every time I’m talking to him I’m trying to flirt. I swear I used to be good at it.”

“Perhaps Bruce is ignoring it?”

Darcy shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I also hate that idea. Please don’t ever say that again. How can I live if he doesn’t like me back?”

“Do I just attract drama queens, or is there something special about you and Tony?”

Darcy gasped. “How dare you think I’m not special. You take that back!”

Supernova 1 “Why are you listening to Oasis on repeat?” Jane asked as she walked into Darcy’s apartment.

“Not Oasis,” Helen corrected, “Champagne Supernova.”

“Oh, Darcy. No hon.” Jane threw her purse on a chair and went to the kitchen and started going through the freezer. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said as she came back into the living room. “I am going to make us some very alcoholic fruit slushies, you are going to move on from Oasis to some 90s Alanis, and then you are going to tell us what happened.”

Jane disappeared back into the kitchen and Helen looked at Darcy.

“And then we plot revenge,” she added.

2 “I promise you there was never a Gusher flavor called Supernova Blast. That wasn’t a thing. You need to stop trying to convince me it was. I might be dumb, but I am not that gullible.”

“Aww, babe! Who said you were dumb! I’ll be happy to knock some sense into them.

“Darce, that’s not the point,” Peter said with a whine. “The point is you cannot make me believe it.”

Darcy turned her laptop to show him the Google Image search with Supernova Blast gushers.

“Your reality is so flippin’ weird,” he said as he stared at the screen.

3 “It’s, like, more than a nova. It’s a SUPER nova.”

Darcy just stared at the man in front of her. This was the last time she allowed Clint to set her up on a blind date.

“Riiight,” she said. “Ummm, I’m sorry, but I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back,” she said as she grabbed her purse and praised the heavens that she hadn’t brought a coat too.

She grabbed a waitress as soon as she was out of his line of sight. “Hi, I need to escape a bad date and I will pay you $40 to let me out a back door.”

The waitress grabbed the money. “Done.”

4 “And next up is Supernova!” the announcer roared. Darce waved to the crowd as her name was called. She hadn’t expected to love roller derby as much as she did, but it truly was a life saver. The team was amazing, it allowed for stress relief, and it was something that was just hers. No being in Jane’s academic shadow. No being in her brother’s professional musician shadow. No shadows. Just Darcy.

As they set up for the first jam she looked up to the crowd and saw some signs with her name on them. She had never felt more alive.

5 “Excuse me?” the man at the counter said, “Are you really telling me that you’ve never heard of the Supernovas?”

Darcy gritted her teeth. “Honestly, dude, it doesn’t matter if I have or not. What I asked was whether or not you had any Aquabats.”

“But I can’t let you listen to that when you could be listening to the Supernovas.”

“I think you are missing what exactly your role is here. I came here looking specifically for a present for my brother, and I came to you to help me with it. In exchange, you should be telling me whether or not you have it, not making me want to leave because you won’t stop forcing your terrible bands on me.”

He stared at her in annoyance.

6 She imagined that this was what it must feel like at the center of a supernova. She had never felt so warm and alive and bursting. His simple confession wasn’t something she had ever expected, but it knocked the ice off her heart and had made her realize that she loved him too. She loved him in a consuming way that she hoped would eventually burn down to warm contentment and not eat them alive, but she couldn’t deny that his love had changed her and she could never go back to not knowing how this felt.

7 “You can’t use the supernova attack in this setting!” Steve said.

“I don't’ see why,” Darcy argued. “What’s stopping me?”

“Because that’s not how it’s supposed to be used.”

Darcy made a tsking noise at him. “Stevey, you can’t say that you want to follow the spirit of things here. You knew I was the type of person to always argue I was technically inside of the rules to do crazy shit when you asked me to join your game. So you either let me cast this or you kill me so I can go play with people that enjoy my unorthodox approach.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Roll please.”

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

Once Upon A Time, In A Far Away Land... - AU:

The legend says that King Raymond, then still a Prince and an adventurer, went to find the terrible threat known as the dragon witch, that has been rumored to have hurt innocent people and was the cause of great distress for a long time. What he found was a lovely, beautiful woman with charm and wit and a heart of gold, who's reputation had been tainted by those who tried to steal from her and payed the price when she defended herself.

It was then and there that the king decided he would do anything to make her happy.

Many years later, and the two married and had a family together. Three beautiful boys. Two of them ordinary looking twins, and the younger one seemingly half dragon and half human.

Now of course not everyone in the kingdom was immediately on board with their new queen, not did they all approve of the princes, especially the young one. But eventually, most of them came around, or at the very least knew better than to voice their negative opinions.

The years pass and the children grow up. Roman and Remus learn magic and swordsmanship, both being more talented in the latter, and they go on lots of adventures, both together and separately.

while Drake learns all that and more, doing his best to perfect all his skills but being especially talented in magic. he wants to be able to always have the right answers, to never be caught unprepared.

Unfortunately, he is caught very unprepared.

One day, while adventuring in a part of the woods rumored to be overtaken by the misfits and rebels of the kingdom, Roman and Remus are caught in one of their traps.

"well well well, a couple of trespassers." A hooded figure teased, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"those are no ordinary trespassers! It seems we're in the company of royalty!" Replied a man with glasses who didn't seem that mean compared to the hooded figure.

"Vee did good job with those traps, I gotta hand it to him." Said the woman among them, sounding pleasantly surprised.

The twins were too weak from their previous fight to do much, and they could only stare angrily as they waited for one of the rebels to speak.

Finally, the woman gave an order.

"R, Em, escort our guests. I'll go tell boss the wonderful news."

Hours later, as Drake was pacing in his room and his parents were sitting in the throne room patiently waiting for news on the whereabouts of their sons, all knowing it isn't like them to disappear for this long without giving a proper warning.

Finally, a message came, from the leader of the forest dwellers.

"if you wish to see your sons, there are matters to discuss. I will come to the forest's entrance every night for the next three days. Send a representative, they must come alone. We shall see if we can come to an agreement that's favorable for both sides. Should you fail to accept this offer, we will have no choice but to keep the princes as our prisoners. Their transgressions can not go unpunished, but perhaps theit unfortunate mistake can bring about a new era, for all those who deserve a better life.

Sincerely, P. Sanders"

Drake couldn't sleep that night, knowing that his parents had no intention listening to the rebels' wishes. He couldn't help but worry what his life would be like without his brothers. He didn't like the idea of it, not one bit.

So that night, after tossing and turning in his bed for hours, he decided to do something he never thought he'd do in his life.

He snuck out of the castle to disobey his parents.

He went to the entrance of the forest to speak to the leader of the rebels. The man he saw before him, however, was not at all what he expected.

Patton Sanders has been fighting ever since he could remember himself. He was hardly the first rebel to find shelter in these woods, but with all the elders that had raised him having passed away, he became the new leader. It wasn't an easy job, but it was rewarding, and someone has to do it. He couldn't let all these poor people go without any help, not when he knew from personal experience how hard it was to survive in the kingdom for anyone who couldn't be born or marry into nobility, and who couldn't fit into whatever narrow path was set up for them.

So to see that the king and queen sent their youngest son to negotiate was... puzzling, to say the least. After all, you'd think at least one of them would want to show up to discuss a way to get their sons back.

But when he saw the prince's nervous body language, he suspected he knew what was really going on.

"greetings, Mr Sanders." the young prince gave a small bow.

~at least he cares enough to show up and be formal about it.~ Patton thinks and decides that he can allow himself to be a little nice.

"please, Mr Sanders was my father. You can just call me Patton, your highness."

"oh, alright. Well then I suppose you can address me as Drake, if you wish."

There was a moment of uneasy silence before Drake decided he'll cut to the point.

"so what is it that you want in exchange for my brothers' safe return?"

"simply put? Justice."

Drake raised an eyebrow, not in judgement or mockery but in confusion. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"why is it, you think, that generations of outcasts and misfits have sought shelter in these woods? Have you considered why we'd need to seek shelter from our own kingdom?"

Drake had a few ideas, but by the look on his face they troubled him too much to express.

Patton sighed in sympathy and decided to say it himself, as he had many times before, to save the young prince (who actually was about Patton's age, although the leader looked older due to all that he's had to endure) the embarrassment.

"the kingdom is under attack from within itself. The rich and powerful are attacking the poor and helpless, by not extending to them the aid they need in order to just barely survive, let alone thrive as the nobles do. And your parents have been complacent, content to let the broken system that benefits them go on as it always had. All I want is equality. To be provided with what we need to survive and to be allowed to exist however we choose, be given the same freedom the nobles have that we had to escape from the kingdom into the forest to find. That is all the rebels have ever wanted, and it is all I ask."

Drake listens carefully, studying Patton's face for any deception or insincerity, and finds none. He sighs, tiredly, heavily.

"you know my parents didn't send me, don't you?"

"I figured as much, yes."

"so you understand this is gonna be hell on earth for me, trying to accomplish what you're asking of me, against their wishes, right?"

"indeed, but considering your choice of words, it sounds to me like you've already joined the cause."

"...unfortunately, yes." Drake couldn't help but agree. He knew it was dangerous, and would take expert planning, and would be downright impossible to achieve, but besides the fact that it was the only way to get his brothers back without starting an unnecessary war with the peaceful forest dwellers, it was also the right thing to do. And besides, Patton was very cute- convincing! Drake had meant convincing, he insisted to himself, unconvincingly. Yes the irony of that is not lost on him.

Meanwhile, At the rebels' campsite, the twin princes were surprised to find that aside from the occasional jab or tease, they were being treated rather respectfully. Sure their hands were tied to ensure they couldn't escape but they were treated more like guests rather than prisoners. In fact, they were treated like equals, which has never happened to them before. Their parents treated them like kids and, although they tried to be subtle about it, so did a lot of the older nobles, and everyone else treated them like royalty, which they were. But this was the first time they've ever had a normal conversation with people who saw them as equals.

Roman was a bit huffy at first, insisting he be treated with the respect worthy of a prince, only to be met with laughter and eye rolls. "there aren't any classes here, you're no better than anyone else. Better get used to it, Princey." said a figure standing completely in shadow, though his eyes almost glistened in the darkness, the fire reflecting off them. "let him whine, Vee. It's all he's got now." the woman he now knew as Valerie teased, and the only reason he let her get away with it is because she had bested him in combat earlier that day, when he made a daring escape attempt. Seeing as she proved herself a fierce warrior, she had his begrudging respect. But then he heard the shadowed figure chuckle in response, and the sound evoked many different emotions in him, so he decided to focus on annoyance and anger. "so, you're the Vee in charge of the cowardly contraption that ensnared my brother and I." Roman could see the eyes squint as they looked him up and down, and then a smug smirk spread across the shadow's face. "the very same. Pretty neat trick, isn't it?" "I don't know what you think is so impressive about a machine made by a man too weak and scared to best his enemies face to face." "it's efficient, and it takes a hell of a lot more wit and talent than waving a sword around like a reckless idiot." the shadow bit back, sounding very defensive. Roman would have been prouder to have gotten him riled up if it were for Valerie looking very mad at him for insulting who he now had to assume is a friend of hers. He really didn't wanna anger Valerie. "I wouldn't expect a ruffian like you to understand anything about the fine art of sword fighting." at that, the shadow growled. Well and fully growled, sending a shiver down Roman's spine, filling him with fear and... Well he was going to ignore that other feeling for now and hopefully it would go away. "okay, fuck this. Val, can you untie his hands?" Valerie's eyes went wide. "Vee, you don't have to-" "no, I want to. It's worth it to get this asshole to shut up and show some respect." Roman would have said something if he weren't intrigued by the conversation. "alright, but I don't like this." "no one's gonna get hurt. I promise." as Valerie untied his hands she glared at him. "what? How was I supposed to know he'd react this way? Also what the hell is going on?" "you'll see in a second, just don't see this as a chance to try escaping again or I'll personally knock you unconscious." "noted." as the bindings were fully removed from his hands and Valerie backed away, Vee stepped out of the shadows, allowing Roman to see him for the first time. This was already a very big problem for Roman, as he was not prepared for how hot the rebel was. To make matters worse, Roman wasn't done checking him out sizing him up, when Vee pulled a sword from where it was resting on his hip, and he held it directly at Roman's throat, just inches away from grazing his skin. And that really should not have made the blood rush to the direction it did for Roman, but his body just had the worst timing. Luckily, somehow, he still managed to focus on Vee's next words.

"you wanted to fight face to face? Fine. I, Virgil Fabre, challenge you to a duel."

And that is when Roman realized his big mistake. Well, too late to back out now.

"I accept your challenge."

Remus was ecstatic, though. He immediately started feeling more at ease and free to be himself. He didn't even mind being tied up all that much, and he made sure to get that point across with a bunch of inappropriate humor that made everyone uncomfortable. Well all except for the two men who brought them to the camp, and a third, much cuter nerd, resembling the rebel in glasses but seemingly more stoic, but even he was clearly smiling at one of Remus's crass jokes. Their eyes locked and the serious rebel blushed and turned back to resume his conversation with the men he now knew as Remy and Emile. Fuck. Finding a way to enjoy being kidnapped while waiting to be rescued or until he found a way to escape? That was one thing. But crushing on one of the rebels who was holding him prisoner? Remus would have to be a fool to act on these emotions. He glanced the other way to check on his brother and asked why he was sword fighting with one of the rebels. After being updated on what happened, he sighs heavily. Well you know what? If Roman was allowed to be stupid, and they were truly equals in this forest, then dang it Remus can do whatever Roman can do if he damn well pleases. With this new conviction, he boldly strutted over to the handsome nerd, only for Emile to give him a death glare that immediately makes him turn around.

But he's far from giving up. They all are.

Anyway thats it for this au, for now (;

Let me know what you think and as always -

Stay Tuned!

[bssaz97]

What do you think a Lancaster wedding would be like (also the last ask you answered was awesome thank you can’t wait for part 2)

Today was the day many in their group had been anticipating, the day they stopped being only two people, but one. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, the clouds were minimal, and the wind was mild but not freezing. A large group was gathered together inside the auditorium of the newly reopened Beacon Academy, who are all here to see the most anticipated ceremony since the end of the Salem War. Most of the guests are friends and family of the bride and groom, but others are ones who have served in the line of duty alongside them and felt it necessary to show their support. Everything was going perfectly.

At the front of the auditorium stood the groom along with his best man, Lie Ren. The two awaits the arrival of the bride to be and her bridesmaids, all the while the groom is sweating up a storm in anticipation. He has waited for this moment for nearly a year and finally the day was here. At the age of 22, Jaune Arc would soon be married to the most special person in his life and his best friend of 5 years, Ruby Rose. Who would soon transition into being his wife after today.

Ren: *Nudges the blonde* Nervous?

Jaune: Yeah. You could say that again. Feels like facing against an army of ancient Grimm again. You know, in a good without the possibility of dying way.

Ren: I see.

Jaune: I can’t believe we’re finally at this day, I mean I knew it was coming eventually but to actually experience it...it’s unreal. You know, in a good way because I love Ruby and wouldn’t want to be here with any other person. Is it weird how much I’ve been looking forward to this day all month long? I mean it could just be wedding jitters but I can’t tell. Did you feel this way during your wedding day Ren? Because I could really-?

Ren: *Placed his hand on Jaune’s shoulder* Jaune, you’re rambling.

Jaune: Sorry.

Ren: *Chuckles* You’re fine. It’s your wedding so just relax and be yourself.

Jaune: *Laughs* Yeah I guess you’re right. I wonder if Ruby is holding up any better?

Meanwhile...

Ruby: Is it time to go out now?

Weiss: No.

Ruby: *Begins to tap heel* ...is it time now?

Yang: *Shakes head* Nope.

Ruby: *Tapping increases* .....how about now?

Blake: Not yet.

Ruby: .......now?

Weiss/Yang/Blake: NO!

Ruby: Gah! I’m sorry girls, I’m just so nervous!

Yang: Everything’s going to be fine Rubes. The word thing that could happen is if Vomit Boy leaves you at the alter. (Which he better not.)

Blake: What Yang is trying to say is; you have nothing to worry about.

Weiss: Besides having jitters on your wedding day is perfect normal.

Ruby: I suppose. I just feel like the anticipation is killing me though.

Nora: *Places hand on Ruby’s shoulder* Ruby. Do you remember how I was on my wedding day?

Ruby: Yeah. We barely got you out of the room that day you were so nervous. We had to pry you from the door. *Giggles*

Nora: And do you remember who it was that got me to walk down that aisle that day?

Ruby: I did. I gave you a speech about how it wasn’t the end of the world but-

Nora: ‘A new chapter of my life’. And you know what? I never regretted it since. Now, it’s my turn to help ya out sister.

Ruby: ...‘sniff’ Oh my gods Nora you’re gonna make me cry.

Weiss: Please don’t! I spend a good half hour getting her makeup just right!

Penny: Friends I believe its time for the ceremony to begin.

Yang: Ok, places girls!

Ruby: *Exhales* Alright show time.

//////Play this if you wish; Image its playing//////

https://youtu.be/fOymevxe1pI

The bride and her bridesmaids start on their way to the main door of the altar. It takes a few minutes but they finally make it to the main door, where Taiyang is waiting. Ruby walks up to her father and he smiles at her, small tears start to form but do not fall. The time for crying would come later. Besides he needed to keep his composure, he can’t afford to look break down on his little bud as he walks her down the aisle.

Taiyang: You ready?

Ruby: *Nods* I’m ready.

Taiyang: You look beautiful.

Ruby: *Smiles* Thank you Dad.

The two interlock their arms and prepared for the doors to open. It was almost time...

*Crrrreeeeaaaakkkk!*

The main doors of the room open, causing everyone in the auditorium to face towards the entrance. As it does, red and yellow rose petals descend from the ceiling and begin to cover the aisle in rose petals. The bride and her father, arms interlocked, starts to make their way down the aisle with her bridesmaids in tow. Everyone watches as the bride makes her way to the alter, but none more so than the groom himself. As he could not take his eyes off of her.

He recalls the time when he first happened to meet this woman in the courtyard of this very school. For the time he had been with Ruby, Jaune watched as she grew from the youthful, awkward, quirky girl he found in a crater into a strong, remarkable, and inspiring huntress of Remnant. Now, she had transcended once again into the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Today she was adorned in a crimson A-Line/Princess wedding dress with additional armor (vambrace, corter, rerebrace) on each of her arms and a black sash around her waist. This was the woman he wished to spend the rest of his days with, his co leader and best friend, his Crater Face.

Ruby felt as her heart was pounding in her chest, the only thing she can focus on was keeping eye contact with her groom and husband to be, her first friend at Beacon. She recalls when he had helped her out of that crater that day, the one who became her friend when she all others left her behind and it was the boy who puked on her sister’s boots. She watched him as he went through his highest and lowest points in life, but continued to be by her side and help others despite his own suffering. He was no longer the clumsy, inexperienced, and dorky trainee she had met but rather evolved into Remnant’s Shining Knight. Jaune looked more and more like the knights of her childhood dreams, all of her hopes and wishes for him had come to fruition and now he would be taking her as his bride and wife to be.

As father and bride made it to the alter, the groom descends down the steps to meet them, while the bridesmaids walk up the alter to take their positions. Once Jaune meets the two, the two men smile at each other, then Taiyang lets go of his baby girl and hands her to Jaune. As the two interlock their arms, the bride and groom together walk up the steps to the alter. There waiting for them is the bridesmaids the best man and Glynda Goodwitch, the newly appointed headmistress of Beacon. The ceremony can now begin.

Glynda: Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Jaune Arc and Ruby Rose in marriage. In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife. True marriage is more than joining the bonds of marriage of two persons; it is the union of two hearts. It lives on the love you give each other and never grows old, but thrives on the joy of each new day. Marriage is love. May you always be able to talk things over, to confide in each other, to laugh with each other, to enjoy life together, and to share moments of quiet and peace, when the day is done. May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and a home of warmth and understanding. Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc, remember to treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Take responsibility for making the other feel safe, and give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves. When frustration, difficulty and fear assail your relationship, as they threaten all relationships at some time or another, remember to focus on what is right between you, not just the part that seems wrong. In this way, you can survive the times when clouds drift across the face of the sun in your lives, remembering that, just because you may lose sight of it for a moment, does not mean the sun has gone away. And, if each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight. May you always need one another, not to fill an emptiness, but to help each other know your fullness. May you want one another, but not out of lack. May you embrace one another, but not encircle one another. May you succeed in all important ways with each other, and not fail in the little graces. May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and may you find it in loving one another. Do you Jaune Arc, take Ruby Rose to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?

Jaune: I do mam.

Glynda: Do you Ruby Rose, take Jaune Arc to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?

Ruby: Yes, I do. *Nods*

Glynda: At this point the bride and groom can now speak say a few words.

The two turn to face one another, interlocking hands and looking into each others eyes.

Jaune: Ruby, for as long as I could remember you have always been with me at my best and at my worst and you have never turned me away. For this, I take you as my companion, my wife, and my love. I promise to care for you, honor you, and cherish you, for as long as we both shall love. Now and forever.

Ruby: ....Wow. ‘Sniff’ That totally beats what I was gonna say.

Jaune: *Wipes her growing tears* It’s ok Ruby, I bet I’ll like yours better.

Ruby: ‘Giggles’ Dork. Ok.....Jaune, you have stuck with me and been my pillar when I thought the world would collapse around me. You’ve never once stopped believing in me and you have no idea how much that means to me, not only as a huntress, a leader, but as a friend also. For this, I take you as my companion, my love, and my husband. I promise to stand by you, respect you, and love you with all my heart, for as long as we both shall love and to the next life.

Jaune: ..... ‘sniff’ Come on, that’s not playing fair. *Smiles*

Glynda: The ring bearer shall now come forth with the wedding bands.

From the side comes a four year old Adrian walking up carefully with the bands on a plush pillow. Once carefully walking up all the steps (causing many in the audience to coo and taking photos at the adorableness of it all) he waddles up to the giggling bride and smiling groom.

Jaune: Thanks buddy. *Rubs Adrians head.* Then he and Ruby give each other their wedding bands. One decorated to have a yellow lining with crimson metal surrounding it and one with a red lining with gold metal surrounding it.

Glynda: If any should object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace...... Really? No one at all?

Everyone: *Laughs*

Glynda: Very well, then by the power invested in me. I now pronounce you, Jaune Rose-Arc and Ruby Rose-Arc as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.

Jaune: With pleasure.

The now husband and wife took hold of each other’s face and brought their lips together in a gentle but passionate embrace. Then a second gentle shower of orange rose petals descended from the alter as everyone in attendance stood up to applaud the newly weds.

-Fin-

That’s all I got to say about how a Lancaster marriage should go, but I would be happy either way. It took me a bit to think how I would envision this to happen so I hope you guys like it!

Also I got most of the wedding script (for Goodwitch’s lines) from smore.com if you’re wondering because for the life of me I couldn’t remember. But hope it’s lose enough.

Also Qrow and Raven are the ones dropping the rose petals. Btw.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of BRUTUS. Admin Rogue: There is always something about the way you write unvarnished truth that gets me, every single time. Boris is not a likable character by any means, but I still find myself curious about him when seen through your lens. You want to make ruin of him, or maybe for him to make ruin of us, and it’s so attractively despicable that I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know if we’ve ever had a character this unapologetic, not just to some but to every single person in Verona. Let them try and eat him, let them spit him back out, let them realize he will not be swallowed no matter how much he deserves it. I can already see the way he’ll burn across the dash, a torch-song I want to touch, and I couldn’t be happier to welcome you back to us in this new and exciting form! Please review the CHECKLIST and send your account in within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB. 

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Julie

Age | 20

Preferred Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | Given that I’ll probably be stuck at home searching for a job for the next month, I figure my activity will be okay. The usual reply every other day or so situation, I hope!

Timezone | MST

Triggers | Already listed!

How did you find the rp?  | Two years ago I went diving into the LSRPG tag because I was curious and now here we are. :)

Current/Past RP Accounts | Santino, Loretta, Lucien

IN CHARACTER

Character | Brutus / Boris Kovrov

What drew you to this character? | Brutus, I think, is one of the most human characters in Diverona by default, without development, in the sense that he is so selfish it makes you want to tear your eyeballs out. It’s the same with most people: we encourage each other to take time to themselves, to put themselves first, but can feel rebuffed or insulted when they actually do that. Boris has taken that to the ultimate extreme: everything he does is for himself and no one else. He didn’t ascend within the Montagues because he wanted to further his family’s social standings, he did it because he alone wanted to succeed.

He’s not apologetic about it, either, and that’s what makes him so interesting. At all times, Boris is fully aware he is perceived as underhanded and generally disliked among the mob, but he’s so good at what he does that it doesn’t matter. He returns to Verona with a searing brand of shame in the form of his personal betrayal, and anyone could see that if they just fucking looked close enough, but they don’t. That’s where his talent really lies, and that’s what makes him so weirdly endearing to me: he makes himself valuable, and even when he does the worst possible thing a person could do in a mob, it still doesn’t undercut his worth. He makes himself out to be a friend, lies and lies and lies, and because most people don’t want to make the effort or choose not to, it’s believable.

Some might call him cut-throat, or a coward, a backstabber, potentially even brutal: he’s not ashamed of sprinkling rat poison into the food of his competition if it means he’ll succeed. He’s an opportunist at best and a manipulator at worst, and if there’s anything to be said about Verona, it’s that the manipulators usually come out at the front of the pack. The last sentence or so in his bio are what really sealed the deal for me: “The historians fail to mention that the traitors are the ones who survive, who outlive empires and kingdoms, who lay their sovereigns to rest and spread their ashes like trail markers.” God help him, Boris will come out of Verona alive, no matter how much of it he feeds into and how much of himself he lets it consume.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

• Fly not; stand stiff: ambition’s debt is paid. I’d love to see some real-time consequences for Boris’ betrayal of the Montague family. Others have been ousted for less, but somehow he gets to remain? That doesn’t seem particularly fair, but Boris couldn’t give a shit about fair if he tried. He sold his information to a mob in Russia for the purpose of a safety net. Other emissaries also deal with Russia – it’d make sense that one of them might hear about the dark dealings and try to use it to their own advantage, were they so ambitious. Or maybe it will come from someone higher up, like Castora, who knows more than they’ve let on. Maybe this will lead to his demotion, his death, Damiano’s assassination, the ushering in of a new era – who knows? These things don’t play out without someone paying the price, and I want Brutus to pay in full.

• I kill’d not thee with half so good a will. In my head, Boris has been out of the picture for some time now, working on relations between the American families and the Montagues to keep business booming. I’d love to explore the Verona Boris left a little over a year ago (totally headcanon, by the way! I’m happy to adjust wherever necessary) and how it’s changed in comparison to what it is now. Roman Montague has failed as an heir, the Witches hung in a public trial, all illusions of neutrality or working towards peace have been shot right through the middle. Damiano is unraveling at the seams, and the question of who will lead the Montagues lacks an answer entirely. It’s complete and utter chaos: messy, bloody, exactly the kind of environment Boris thrives in. I want him to wreak as much havoc as possible in his own way, and if he can’t do that, then I’d like to see him secure his seat closest to the throne when the concept of a coup becomes inevitable.

• But hollow men, like horses hot at hand / Make gallant show and promise of their mettle. He hunts Tomas Sabello and Bernadette du Pont because they are the easiest openings into both sides of the mobs. Bernadette is croquettish and manipulative but still naive, in Boris’ eyes, to the difficult path which lies ahead. I could see him trying to sway her to the Montagues if she would only listen. Grace Daly had done it for less, after all. Sabello, on the other hand, is Boris’ favorite target: throat exposed, head leaned back, weeping tears of sorrow over his wife. Boris has experience with the follies of the heart and he can see that Celeste has never loved the man, and frankly, Boris doesn’t think there’s much to the man to love. He’s hollow on the inside, scraped out with a metal spoon. His arrival so late into the act poses some difficulties, but he’s hopeful he’ll be able to pick up where he left off.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Absolutely!

IN DEPTH

In-Character Para Sample:

Valentina Gallo dies a violent death. An inextricable, unforgiving death. An ugly death. When they take pull her body from her brother’s arms, and she is taken in to be seen by Damiano’s own eyes, witness the violence which has laid itself across the barren field of a corpse –

This is when Boris is called home.

Exit, Viola.

Enter, Brutus.

He bids Lorenzo and the rest of the Gambino family farewell that same night over the phone: Lorenzo calls him a bastard for not shaking his hand before saying goodbye, but Boris has other things on his mind: A plane. The brisk cold mornings that give way to blustery sunshine. Damiano greeting him as a member of the family instead of an extension of his long reach, like he had a year ago. He can remember the phone call well. He’d run it through, night after night, dissecting and picking apart intonation and tone and the speed with which Damiano had dismissed him, like a dog begging for scraps hastily shoved away from the dinner table. He lets the familiarity of the conversation wash over him as he settles in his plane seat the night of the twenty-seventh. He’ll be there by morning.

I’ll be there to greet you, Damiano had said. Boris had tried not to read into it too much.

New York was intended to be punishment and apology wrapped up into one. Damiano sent him off to deal with the budding crime syndicates and crush them under the imaginary Montague heel. He would spread seeds of dissent and terror: most fall silent when he enters a room for good reason, and it is in this way that he gets them to listen when he speaks. Most would not expect a man as imposing as Boris to speak so passionately; he’s always been a fan of turning ideas on their heads. By weaving tales of just what the Montague family has at its disposal, he alone would stamp out the passionate flames of greed and light his own small fire of fear.

In his younger years this would have intimidated Brutus. When he’d received the call a year ago, he’d only felt dread.

But he’d done well. It took him five months to chase down every single lead provided to him by men paid under the table, and after that, all there had been to do was clean up the mess and socialize. Shake hands with the shattered fragments of the once-powerful mob families, reach out to the contacts he’d had in Canada and New Orleans, as they were perhaps the most influential, the ones who could sway the boat with weaponry and other fun and exciting goods that still had his heart pounding when he looked at them.

He’d thought about calling Evgeny once, and only once: when Damiano had chewed him out over the phone for something that was not his fault and hadn’t been in his wheelhouse to begin with. Boris knew, that night, what Evgeny would say. Patience, Kovrov. We’ll be here when you’re ready.

When you’re ready. Whatever that meant. For all Evgeny knew, Boris would never be ready. He’d die with Verona just out of reach.

He startles awake as the plane hits turbulence coming into Verona, heading towards the landing strip. It’s a bumpy landing, but he’s never done well in planes to begin with. He thinks, often, of his father, who had marked to Boris that all would be well just before returning to Russia. The flight wouldn’t make it, of course. Damiano had ensured it: Sasha Kovrov had been dead weight long enough. All he could’ve hoped for, Boris thought, was that his son would prove worthy of something.

And he had. He’d crawled on his hands and knees across glass and gravel, waded through blood and sweat, and tears – never his own, if he could help it – to see the Montague family through to the other side. Could he really have been blamed for wanting to ensure he had some sort of future laid out for him, even if it wasn’t in the name of the two old bloodlines of Verona? In return, he’d gotten: a usurpation of a position that should have been his, a pound’s worth of rat poison that he couldn’t use, distrust among his peers and disgust from the one man who should have seen his dedication, and a promise he couldn’t act upon until he was ready.

враки.

He exits the plane, meets Damiano on the tarmac, and just as quickly they are swept away by Damiano’s driver. There is no discussion of previous business, tasks he has completed. Craven is mentioned offhandedly, but Boris had to admit some time in September that whatever illicit ties Everett Craven had to the Capulets when it came to his dealings in America, the man kept them wound up tight. He’d been impressed. Instead, they set their eyes on the future: Damiano speaks to him of the failures and successes, trials and tribulations, and Boris takes note of the way his brow knits together when he speaks.

It is like Damiano cannot bear to look at him, but is forcing himself to anyway. Surely his betrayal had not burned so badly. It wouldn’t have left a mark.

Valentina Gallo died for less. She didn’t give nearly as much away. She’d given what she had to give. Boris had given Evgeny everything, and then offered the grounds of the coffee to Damiano in return.

Boris is lucky to be alive, seated across from a man he might have once considered a better father than his own, who looks at him with poorly-veiled discuss and tells him what to do. Boris had sold his soul – this might just be the devil’s recompense.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, watching the city pass them by, nodding where appropriate and watching the sun rise over the river as they drive alongside it. If he gets his way, Damiano Montague will be sooner dethroned, and Brutus will have his rightful place as second-in-command to some poorer, less competent man. If he is anything, it’s stubborn. They drive by the Castelvecchio, and he’s saddened to see it is still a work in progress, not at all the shining beacon it had once been of unity or pride within a place being torn in two, right down the middle. He feels a pang of something hit him in his chest. Homesickness? He’s home, but—

Boris’ flat is small, modest, tucked away in an alley. Close enough to the library that he can be there within minutes just by walking, if necessary. All the pedestrians on the street avert their eyes when they see Damiano’s car pull up outside. He grabs the one bag he’d taken with him on the plane: he’s hopeful the rest will arrive within the week, but that’s an if at best. Before he slips out, Damiano clears his throat.

He stops, and finds a single piece of paper pressed into his hand. He can only assume what it is, won’t open it – it’s deliberately folded closed. It could be anything: a name, a number, a place, a threat, a promise.

“When you’re ready,” Damiano murmurs, like some sort of sick joke, which is to say that it will be when he asks, because Boris ceded any hope at control over his own life the minute he sold all he possessed to the Russian mob, heart and mind and soul, only to crawl back to Verona just after. Some might’ve called him a fool, but he’d only seen the future, then. If only others could see the eclipsing horizon always in his sight.

It’s here that Boris is left: a small alley, out of sight of the rest of the world, the morning sun shining on his face. The future in his hand. He opens it before he has the chance to breathe in again, the vitriol in his heart already beginning to sear out through his ribcage.

Extras: N/A

[feathersrpmemes]

Ayreon’s “The Human Equation” Starters // Disc Two

( feel free to change pronouns as needed! warning: contains violence/abuse/death. ) ( continued from here! )

Day 12 - Trauma

❝ Disregard the emotions inside your head. ❞ ❝ Concentrate on the real world beyond your mind. ❞ ❝ It's not too late to leave your burdens behind. ❞ ❝ Take you down below, dark crypts of your soul. ❞ ❝ You're better off dead. ❞ ❝ Locked away, she lives in isolation. ❞ ❝ Where are you, can't you hear her calling? ❞ ❝ Nothing you can do, you have no time. ❞ ❝ Why should you care? You’re doing fine. ❞ ❝ Now she's at rest, she finally found her peace. ❞ ❝ You must let go, or the pain will never cease. ❞ ❝ It's time to crawl out of your shell. ❞ ❝ Feelings of guilt will haunt you 'til the end, you must fight hard to break this spell. ❞ ❝ Is this your thanks for all the warmth I gave? ❞ ❝ You worthless fool, you let her die! ❞ ❝ And deep within yourself, you must confess: your ways cannot be justified ❞ ❝ By now you realize, you have to be relentless to survive! ❞ ❝ Bury all emotions and thrive! It's your life! ❞

Day 13 - Sign

❝ Fate has come to warn, that you’ve far too long forsaken her heart. ❞ ❝ Breathe the sunlight burning in her open arms ❞ ❝ Break the chains that bind you to a past that feeds these bitter days. ❞ ❝ Follow the stars that beckon you through blackened skies. ❞ ❝ Can you feel me touch your aching heart? I can sense how much you're missing me... ❞ ❝ Give me a sign, show me you're there. ❞ ❝ I can't believe I turned so vile. ❞ ❝ How could I've ignored her smile? ❞ ❝ She was always there to easy my pain, I'm so ashamed... ❞ ❝ I wish I could go back and mend my ways, is it too late? ❞ ❝ Can you see, I swear it's true, a teardrop trickling down his cheek? ❞ ❝ Yes, indeed, I see it too, could it be he's hurting inside? ❞ ❝ Don't you think we should be glad he feels anything at all? ❞ ❝ It could well be he cries because of us. ❞ ❝ Can you see, I swear it's true, him clenching his right hand into a fist? ❞ ❝ Yes, indeed, I see it too, could it be he's raging inside? ❞ ❝ Don't you think we should be glad he has any thoughts at all? ❞ ❝ It could well be he’s angry 'cause of us. ❞ ❝ Has he given us a sign? ❞

Day 14 - Pride

❝ Aspired to be an artist, not a business man. ❞ ❝ You need to show your old man you're in control. ❞ ❝ I tried to be compassionate, I'm not a ruthless man! ❞ ❝ You need to show them you're superior, you lead the field! ❞ ❝ I've always been affectionate, I don't understand! ❞ ❝ I really love her, I'm not a heartless man! ❞ ❝ You have no time for commitments, they get in the way, get down to business, there's no time to play! ❞ ❝ You can still change, and right what is wrong! ❞ ❝ Your loved ones are waiting, break out of your cage. ❞ ❝ You have the power, give in to your rage! ❞

Day 15 - Betrayal

❝ Will it be you, or your best friend? ❞ ❝ What will you do to gain your end... ❞ ❝ This memory burns inside, you can't forget, you cannot fight or erase it! ❞ ❝ Let it go, try to unwind! ❞ ❝ You'll have to tell and set it right! You cannot run, you cannot hide, so face it! ❞ ❝ Wake up, free your mind! ❞ ❝ You'll never talk, he'll never know. ❞ ❝ But can you live with this betrayal? ❞ ❝ I guess you've won. But one day, the truth might be unveiled ❞ ❝ I have to talk, and let him know what I have done. ❞ ❝ I cannot live with this betrayal, he's always been the better man. ❞ ❝ I never won, now the truth must be unveiled. ❞

Day 16 - Loser

❝ Look at you, lying there, defenseless and alone. ❞ ❝ See, I am no fool, I always knew you wouldn't make it on your own. ❞ ❝ I came here to watch you bleed, oh how I love to gloat. ❞ ❝ If you had any balls at all, you'd grab me by the throat. ❞ ❝ You're an aberration, some freak...I suppose, loser! ❞ ❝ I had my fun, I'm going back to the place I don't call home. ❞ ❝ There's no one there who waits for me. ❞ ❝ You're killing it from afar, go tell it in a bar, you're killing it from afar my father! ❞

Day 17 - Accident?

❝ You cannot function, you're a broken man. ❞ ❝ Your past is catching up with you. ❞ ❝ Did you see me smile at another man? ❞ ❝ It was only us, please understand... ❞ ❝ You see him hold her, in his arms. ❞ ❝ Love left you, without me you're all alone! ❞ ❝ Tears of sorrow fill your eyes. Your cold and wretched life flashes by. ❞ ❝ You turn the wheel, you no longer care... ❞ ❝ You've nothing left, it's gone too far... ❞ ❝ Your memory begins to clear, now you see what brought you here. ❞ ❝ You try to open up your eyes, but the doubts leave you paralyzed. ❞

Day 18 - Realization

❝ Now you know the truth, what will you do? ❞ ❝ I still can't believe it's true... ❞ ❝ You better believe it, and make them pay! ❞ ❝ I gotta stand up, can you show me how? ❞ ❝ You must forgive them and open your heart. ❞ ❝ It's all my fault, it tears me apart! ❞ ❝ It would have been better if you would have just died! ❞ ❝ But can you face them after all you did? ❞ ❝ I gotta reveal the feelings I hid. ❞ ❝ See him fight, he's all on his own... ❞ ❝ I need your help, can't do it alone! ❞ ❝ Listen to me, can you hear me shout?  ❞ ❝ LET! ME! OUT! ❞

Day 19 - Realization

❝ My good friend, I hope you hear my voice. ❞ ❝ I've thought about this and found I have no choice. ❞ ❝ I have to tell you this for conscience sake. ❞ ❝ I felt alone, forsaken and afraid. Out of work and out of love. ❞ ❝ I needed someone to ease some of the pain. ❞ ❝ She was there for me when times were rough. ❞ ❝ My sweet love, my heart belongs to you. ❞ ❝ You were never here, and even when you were, most of my words would go unheard. ❞ ❝ We'd share our distress. ❞ ❝ But we were never in love. ❞ ❝ Can you forgive us? ❞ ❝ My good friend, well maybe I am wrong, I think you saw us on that day. ❞ ❝ I want you to know, she loved you all along. I hope that this will help you in some way. ❞ ❝ Don't be afraid, her heart belongs to you. ❞ ❝ Don't be afraid, don't keep her waiting. It's time to rise, and tell them what you feel! ❞ ❝ Here the dream ends, this is real. ❞ ❝ I'll come back to life! ❞

Day 20 - Closure

❝ See his mouth, he tries to speak, he cannot move, his voice is weak... ❞ ❝ My dear friend can you hear me now? I'll try to tell you how I feel. ❞ ❝ I feel the pain inside of you. Tell me please, what can I do? ❞ ❝ Listen well to what I have to say. I have to tell you...of my betrayal. ❞ ❝ I revealed the facts, it was clear. It spelled the end of your career. ❞ ❝ Yes, I always felt that it was you. I repressed the thought, although I knew the truth. ❞ ❝ The truth is out, I feel relieved. You hate me now, you've been deceived? ❞ ❝ Oh no, in a way we are even now. Come back to us...somehow ❞ ❝ Cross that bridge to the other side! ❞ ❝ Follow your heart, you can't go wrong! ❞ ❝ Welcome to reality, be ready for the pain. ❞ ❝ Welcome to reality, nothing much has changed since you were gone! ❞ ❝ Rise up and show the world you can be a better man! ❞ ❝ Welcome to reality, and let them hear your voice, shout it out! ❞ ❝ Here inside the question burns, are you sure of your return? ❞ ❝ I am sure I deserve this chance. Now I understand it all. ❞ ❝ It all seems so unreal to you, can you decide what to do? ❞ ❝ Yes I can, oh I will survive, look at me...I'm alive! ❞ ❝ You're never alone, I knew we could make it! ❞ ❝ Well rise up, your battle has been won, your new life has begun! ❞ ❝ I'm alive, I won't look back! ❞ ❝ Emotions. I remember... ❞