#rip reputation era

[foreseeobstacles]

[evermorre]

i just know that all of you who claim not to like ready for it were absolutely losing it, screaming “KNEW HE WAS A KILLER FIRST TIME THAT I SAW HIM WONDER HOW MANY GIRLS HE HAD LOVED AND LEFT HAUNTED BUT IF HES A GHOST THEN I CAN BE A PHANTOM HOLDING HIM FOR RANSOM!!!!” when you heard it live on the eras tour and that’s the power of reputation. she will always be famous

[highladyofterrasen7]

What’s funny is that Taylor took over #1 on Spotify from the weeknd

I don’t know anyone who actually listens to the weeknd the way most of us do with Taylor

No shade

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Me: (shows this picture to my grandmother and says in a funny voice) please look at this cool picture of Taylor Swift

My grandmother, who is hard of hearing: wHo iS tHaT? iS tHaT tInA tUrNeR???

[rebecca--barnes]

AND THE REP OUTFIT IS

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It’s the OG!!!!!

[lily91106]

The clowning was real yall

[centrally-unplanned]

We (somewhat rightly) mock the 2000's era fansub translation notes for their otaku fixations and privileging of trivia over the media, but they should be understood as serving their purpose for a bit of a different era in the anime fandom. Take this classic:

Like, its so obvious, right? Just say "pervert", you don't need the note! Which is true, for like a 'normie' audience member who just wants to watch A TV Show - but no one watching, uh *quick google* "Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne" in 1999 is that person. The audience is weebs, and for them the fact that show is Japanese is a huge selling point. They want it to feel as 'anime' as possible; and in the west language was one of the core signifiers of anime-ness. 2004 con-goers calling their friends "-kun" and throwing in "nani?" into conversations was the way this was done, and alongside that a lexicon of western anime fandom terminology was born. Seeing "ecchi" on the screen is, to this person, a better viewing experience - it enhances their connection to otaku identity the show is providing, and reinforces their shared cultural lexicon (Ecchi is now a term one 'expects' anime fans to know - a truth that translator notes like this simultaneously created and reflected).

But of course your audiences have different levels of otaku-dom, and so you can't just say 'ecchi' and call it a day - so for those who are only Level 2 on their anime journey, you give them a translation note. Most of the translation notes of the era are like this - terms the fansubber thought the audience might know well enough that they would understand it and want that pure Japanese cultural experience, but that not all of them would know, so you have to hedge. The Lucky Star one I posted is a great example of that:

Its Lucky Star, the otaku-crown of anime! You desperately want the core text to preserve as much anime vocab as possible, to give off that feeling, but you can't assume everyone knows what a GALGE is - doing both is the only way to solve that dilemma.

This is often a good guideline when looking at old memetically bad fansubs by the way:

This isn't real, no fansub had this - it was a meme that was posted on a wiki forum in 2007. Which makes sense, right? "Plan" isn't a Japanese cultural or otaku term, so there is no reason not to translate it, it doesn't deepen the ~otaku connection~.

Which, I know, I'm explaining the joke right now, but over time I think many have grown to believe that this (and others like it) is a real fansub, and that these sort of arbitrary untranslations just peppered fansub works of the time? It happened, sure, but they would be equally mocked back then as missteps - or were jokes themselves. Some groups even had a reputation for inserting jokes into their works, imo Commie Subs was most notable for this; part of the competitive & casual environment of the time. But they weren't serious, they are not examples of "bad fansubs" in the same way.

This all faded for a bunch of reasons - primarily that the market for anime expanded dramatically. First, that lead to professionally released translations by centralized agencies that had universal standards for their subs and accountability to the original creators of the show. Second, the far larger audience is far less invested in anime-as-identity; they like it, but its not special the way its special when you are a bullied internet recluse in 2004. They just want to watch the show, and would find "caring" about translation nuances to be cringe. And since these centralized agencies release their product infinitely faster and more accessibly than fansubs ever did, their copies now dominate the space (including being the versions ripped to all illegal streaming sites), so fansubs died.

Though not totally - a lot of those fansub groups are still around! Commie Subs is still kicking for example. They either do the weird nuance stuff, or fansub unreleased-in-the-west old or niche anime, or even have pivoted to non-anime Japanese content that never gets international release. But they used to be the taste-makers of the community; now they are the fringe devotees in a culture that has moved beyond them. So fansubs remain something of a joke of the 90's and 2000's in the eyes of the anime culture of today, in a way that maybe they don't deserve.

[funtime-downtown]

Also personal note i might be leaving my 1989 era for what I dont know

[uh-oh-its-bird]

There are so many naruto time travel fics out there but what I need SPECIFICALLY is an ANBU era team of Kakashi, Tenzo, Itachi, and Shisui getting flung into the founders era.

Like. Ok just looking from the political side of it that's;

A) 2 very young and VERY powerful Uchiha's (one of which is the future clan head!! Politics!!)

B) A very fucked up baby mokuton user who's still in the middle of being deprogrammed and can totally pass for Senju

C) The free wild card that is Hatake clan lore on top of having a stolen sharingan. On top of *that* him being the team leader of a team of kids who, in the time period context, should both be at eachothers throats and probably not be expected to obey the commands of someone not only from another clan but a way smaller one

Theres SO much potential there!! So many political implications in virtually ALL of the directions!!!!

Yk what as I'm typing this out I'm having ✨️ideas✨️ so let's make some story points to sort those out:

• I think itd be neat to have this happen like. A year? Ish? Before the massacre? So age wise, and full disclaimer I'm referencing Google and Wikipedia rn so I could totally be wrong, I think that's :

Kakashi (18)

Tenzo (17)

Itachi (12)

Shisui (15)

Could be wrong about the ages but honestly it's my world you're just living in it, so.

Then me going totally purely off of my own headcannons, were going to say they came in a about a year before Izuna died and place the founders ages as:

Madara (23)

Hashirama (23)

Izuna (19)

Tobirama (18)

Big fan of Tobirama being the youngest between the 4 but projecting the aura of someone as old as like. Idk, however old Madara is. Very funny to me, 10/10

• I'm personally a big fan of dogteeth kakashi so we're running with that all the way home. Also a huge fan of the "Hatake's are a distant, more feral cousin of Inuzuka clan" hc along with some sprinklings of "back in the day they had a bit of a Reputation(tm) for being a 'lill wild, and everyone generally tries to avoid them. Which isn't too much of a problem because theyre a very small out of the way clan from Iron, they just have a big reputation in contrast to their size.

In more modern times tho, along with (obviously) having dwindled down to a single depressed teenager, they've become a lot tamer over the years due to village life. Kakashi is a Hatake, 100%, but he is NOT up to the standards of this time. Which becomes a bit funny when people see him, go "oh FUCK it's a Hatake" and then start edging slowly towards the door like he's about to rip their throat out with his teeth. Meanwhile he's standing there like 🧍‍♂️"am I that ugly."

Give me a scene where, finally used to this reaction to him from the general shinobi population, the team starts to use it to their advantage.

"Give us the scroll or we'll let the Hatake off the leash to have his fun with you. He's been awfully hungry latley you know, hasn't had fresh meat in days"

Kakashi, feeling kind of stupid, gave his best growl.

It caused an almost immediate, embaressed flush to rise to his face, but he didn't let up. It sounded more like an almost pathetic puppy growl than anything to his ears, but apparently it was enough to convince the trembling enemy nin because he slowly lifted the scroll up in offering.

Wow. Now he couldn't tell if he was embaressed for himself or for this guy.

Probably both to be honest.

• So like. Itachi is the clan heir. That's big. That's important. Let's do something with that.

First off, I had a great time reading this one fic (tho I don't even remember what the fic itself was about now, oops) where a plot point of it was how Sasuke is just a walking stereotype of main house Uchiha. Like people look at him and they don't just go "oh that's an Uchiha." They go "oh fuck that's an UCHIHA Uchiha." He's so fucking painfully, obviously related to the very tippy top of the clan that anyone not blind can tell. It's in the way he looks, it's in the way he talks and treats those around him, it's in the way he fucking holds himself. You look at him and every other stereotype about the Uchiha clan is there in big, bold letters. (On top of that he's also a dead wringer for Izuna, which I'm such a sucker for and desperatley wish people would do more with)

So like let's give that to Itachi here because it's so fun for several reasons.

First off; Sasuke in this is like. Straight up a doppelganger of Izuna, just a few generations apart. They could be twins. Itachi, as I'm sure you are aware, is Sasuke's big brother. So let's take some liberties and say that Itachi could absoloutley pass as a blood sibling to Izuna and Madara.

He is however 12, so we're also going to say that the only people who get to make this connection is anyone who's seen the siblings when they were also at a similar age.

On top of that however he has the 'walking amalgamation of all the stereotypes of the main Uchiha house' so anyone who isn't blind will look at him and assume he's somewhere in the sphere of 'important main house person' tho who really knows how distant the relation may be exactly. No one !! That's who !!!

Second; He's the fucking clan heir!! What the fuck!! This bit would have the most impact after all the messy time travel reveals when things have settled down a bit, so it'll sit in the back pocket for a bit. Save it for some fun shaking up later down the line so we don't run out of all the fun reveals too fast and bore the readers, yk?

When it is brought up tho it'd be fun to maybe have some fucky Itachi and Madara mutual understandings of the way things work.

• So. Madara is like a bit of a scary bed time story to Uchiha children, right? Like. "Ooo make sure you don't get too obsessive or fall too deep into your grief and always stay loyal to the village or you'll end up just like Madara!!"

Something something Uchiha-Village relationships are tense as hell, something something Madara fucking over a lot of the clan with his whole. Everything., Something something scapegoat and old stories, something something 'people have probably been talking a lot more about how "god dammit this all started with Madara" in recent years.'

Now with that in mind let's take a look of what our time travelers think of Madara:

Itachi is a good Konoha soldier. Itachi (as has been very much fucking proven) would rather beat a possible problem before it even exists with a hammer till it dies an ugly bloody death than even RISK it blossoming into a proper problem. Itachi does not like Madara. Itachi personally, quietly thinks they should maybe wait till the village is formed then carefully arrange a little accident for him before he goes off the rails. He, even more quietly, maybe even thinks it would be a kindness. Allow him to be remembered well by the village instead of scorned.

Shisui I think is cautiously optimistic about him. He's the kind of guy who gives the benefit of the doubt, who weighs the options, risk and reward, but includes things like hope and compassion in his calculations. Yes, Madara was a uhh. Thing. That happened. But in every story his big blow up always come from one specific event; Izuna's death. So if they stop that from happening, wouldn't it secure both a better future for them and Madara? The history books never went into detail about Izuna, he doesn't know what he's like, but maybe his involvement in the future, on Konoha's side, could lead to even more profits for them long term. At the end of the day he's not against killing Madara (though to be clear, they are at first operating on trying to avoid all interactions with historical events and return home without touching things) but it'd be nice, to manage to get a happy ending for everyone. Unrealistic maybe, but nice.

Mmmm hear me out actually, maybe Shisui, after interacting with him a bit, finds that Madara reminds him of Itachi too. They definatley both have that "I would do unspeakable things to even dream of my loved just one more time" energy, if you know what I mean

Anyways; Kakashi and Tenzo are both neutral on Madara. Yes, they learned about how he betrayed the village when young just like everyone else, but they weren't getting the bed time stories and "do this and you'll end up just like him" warnings like the Uchiha's. They're possibly leaning into negative but are detached from the situation enough to just go "well he hasn't done it yet and his brother is still alive so he won't any time soon" and be done with it

• Now, on the the total opposite side of the spectrum you have Hashirama and Tobirama. People are brought up in Konoha to fucking IDOLIZE these guys. You can not tell me our team of time travelers wouldn't be at least a little awed to speak with them.

I think Tenzo would be the most wide eyed about Hashirama, both for the baseline "holy shit that's the Shodai Hokage" and also that fun juicy mokuton user imposter syndrome he has going on for him. That guys DNA is inside his body!!! Holy shit wait does that mean if someone did a blood relation test with them he might read as being related to him?? Fuck were gonna pocket that for now but like. Mmmmm potential.

I'd say Itachi is the most hesitant about Tobirama but again, village loyalist, so.

You know what tho maybe Shisui is the most hesitant about him (though still largely positive) he both def grew up looking up to him but can also see the anti-Uchiha policies people inact now with the implications that Tobirama would have approved of it. He doesn't know if he would, but like, he has to wonder.

Kakashi is probably the most normal about them (and also has experience in being close to a hokage (Minato) to know that at the end of the day they are painfully human) Don't get me wrong, he's still in some sort of awe! He might get a little lightheaded at the thought of seeing the God of Shinobi in proper battle, or the possibility to see the famed genius of Tobirama with all the different jutsu's he's invented. You can't tell me Kakashi didn't spend a little extra time reading about him when he was trying to make Chidori. Honestly I'm gonna roll with that and say he had a bit of a phase as a kid where he was a total fan boy. Maybe sprinkle in the good old HalfHatake!Tobirama hc to add some faint daydreams a lonley babykashi had after his father's death, about getting to meet him as family. Like cmon, little genius idolizing and projecting on some big history figure only to find out they're actually related? Can you say potential?

Anyways he did eventually grow out of the phase, probably got unattached to it all and lost interest after the whole "losing everything he loved" bit of his life. And at the end of the day, he doesn't have any real complex personal hang ups on the founders like the others do. Thus, most normal.

• And then my favorite most special boy, Izuna !! He's for sure the one they're all most neutral about. He's not actually taught about in the academy? There's probably some throw away line about him in some history books somewhere, but he died young and was quickly buried by the looming shadow of Konoha. The only real knowledge had about him in modern times is just a vague "Yeah he got killed by Tobirama which lead to peace being made but also lead to Madara losing his shit"

Poor Izuna he's the linchpin for it all but was left an unremarkable footnote of history. My boy deserves so much better

Tenzo doesn't actually even know who he is, that boy got bare minimum education under Danzo and Izuna was NOT included.

Itachi and Shisui mmmaybe have some small little fun fact here or there buried in stories from the older members of the clans but like. It's gonna amount to just "yeah he had a great katon" and thats about it.

I WILL SAY HOWEVER. Itachi sees him and instantly is that one PTSD dog meme. Sasuke is a BABY but holy shit Izuna looks exactly like he'd expect him to grow up as and it's making him FEEL THINGS. Also he's so bratty little brother coded !! He's an entire 7 years older than Itachi but Ifachi keeps fucking up and trying to big brother him it's embaressing.

And ofc Itachi didn't go into the first meeting thinking he'd see some weird older mirror version of his beloved baby brother who he misses and worries about very very much. So like. There's for sure going to be some conflict there. If their first meeting is a scuffle (which it probably will be) I think Itachi would keep hesitating to attack. On full run away mode. Which is probably for the best bc he shouldn't try to fight Izuna anyways honey he's like double your bodyweight and you're strong but you aren't THAT strong.

• Pointing back at both the 'Itachi does not like Madara and has quiet thoughts about how it'd possibly be in everyone's interest to just kill him' and the 'Itachi and Madara quietly bond over being clain head/heir during stressful times (w pressure from the elders especially)

I can see 2 outcomes of a potential bonding conversation with them:

1) They come to understand eachother better.

Madara wants to be on good terms, he looks at this kid and sees one of his brothers eyes and the others quiet determination. He can tell Itachi doesn't like him for some reason, and it's frustrating because he doesn't know why. He wants him to like him. He wants to be able to offer his hand and have it taken. It hurts, to be looked at with such suspicion from a face that has traces of Izuna's.

Meanwhile Itachi . . . Itachi looks at Madara and he sees someone who gets it. Gets it like no one ever has. It scares him. He looks up at this man, this horror story he's been told to fear becoming, and he sees himself. And this realization shakes him. It makes him think, makes him wonder. He's so, so sure of his loyalty to Konoha. More sure than he is of anything else in the world. But . . . But if something happened to Sasuke, if he had to choose—

And maybe it softens something in him too, along with the (honestly healthy) dose of fear. It forms a little crack in his shell, just enough to maybe, maybe let Madara through. Just a hair.

Or 2) we pull one of those "The conversation ends with them agreeing verbally but mentally they're on 2 VERY different notes."

Madara, nodding and looking at Itachi meaningfully: "Yeah it can be hard, but all we can really do is try to make the world a safer place for the ones we love. (To create Konoha, to keep my clan safe. Izuna safe. And now to keep you safe too.)

Itachi, nodding slowly: "Yeah. No matter how hard it is (even though I think I understand you more than anyone else Ive ever met) we have to try to make the world a safer place (by killing you in your sleep once Konoha is formed) for the ones we love (My clan. My village. Sasuke.)"

• Also pointing back at the 'Hatake warring clan era reputation,' the 'Tobirama is half Hatake' and also now pointing at Tobirama's title as the White Demon. Small thing but it'd be neat if there was some small throw away line that the nickname lowkey started in part because of the absoloutley terrifying reputation of the Hatake combined with Tobirama's own Everything(tm) like it just had some influence on how some view him. Give me Uchiha's making dog jokes ab him it'll be funny

• Ok but now the actual plot thoughts. Yeah I know I kept you waiting sorry about that.

So time travel! Probably due to a mission gone wrong. Some ruins or some ancient crumbling scroll that wasn't even supposed to do fucking time travel but was so old and corroded that it somehow managed to transform into a whole other seal by pure bad luck. Or good luck I guess, considering it could have just turned into a nuke.

Our favorite team of disasters are very very alarmed !!! What the fuck !!! Obviously they don't default to thinking time travel, but they immediatley know something is wrong. The landscape has changed, though the big landmarks are still there. The mission was complete anyways with no injuries so they just retreat to Konoha. Only oops !! It's not fucking there!!!

Queue alarm.

Shisui is the first one to suggest time travel because he's quirky like that. And there's a very easy way to confirm this theory.

(Also we're going to say that Konoha's location is a valley a few miles out from the Naka River that borders the Senju / Uchiha territories.)

This is convenient because that verification method involves checking in on where Itachi and Shisui know the old Uchiha compound should rest.

They do it in full stealth mode, the second they saw Konoha was missing Kakashi as team leader decided they'd treat the land as enemy territory. They all agreed ofc, for all they knew this WAS enemy territory now.

And, ofc, yeah!! There's the old Uchiha compound!! Being active!!! There are people there!!!

"What are the odds Fugaku-sama decided to have the clan return to their homeland for ahh, cultural enrichment?" Kakashi asked weakly.

"Time travel." Was the only reply he got from Shisui, whispered reverently as the boy vibrated with excitement on the branch.

Itachi just gave him a look, radiating a level of dissaproving disbelief that no normal 12 year old should be able to make. Kakashi would know, he was that not-normal 12 year old once.

From there they decide a no interference policy. Hands off guys!! They probably debate it tho, like, a good amount. They all have ✨️opinions✨️ except maybe Tenzo who's lowkey still in the middle of trying to learn how to be a person and is following Kakashi's lead 99% of the time. Especially since they're still in mission mode and this is like a super serious discussion and he really does know the least ab the founders overall.

They probably debate the merits of going to Uzushiogakure bc seal help but it's really far and they don't actually have like, just any leverage with them. They already decided not to fuck with the future so it isn't like they can trade secrets and warnings. At least if shit happens here they have some plausible deniability, being, yk, 2 uchiha's and a senju-passing guy with Mokuton. Kakashi's kinda fucked tho in that regard but he isn't going to be doing the party ANY favors with his clan heritage.

Which means it's time to potentially get desperate enough to interact with Tobirama !!! Which will inevitably lead to them bumping into a Uchiha patrol or something!!! I don't know honestly

• Anyways want Hashirama and Tenzo to interact. He has so many issues like holy shit. Let Hashirama give him the hug he deserves. I want him to violently adopt him. New brother acquired!!!

I said before but Tenzo is still reprogramming from ROOT. Let Hashirama impact that! Let him help! They can make flower crowns and photosynthesize together idk

Hashirama would be so happy to have another mokuton user, I think they should be able to sense eachother extra strong and like 'ping' off of eachothers chakra, it'll be fun

▪︎ I'm not thinking toooo hard about power scaling and this is fanfiction so a) don't quote me on this and b) for the love of all that is holy don't take my words as gospel

But for this fic specifically I'm ranking the founders and Team Ro, weakest to strongest (in a clean, fair fight head on w no time to prepare) :

Itachi (he's fucking 12 guys. But also he is like. FRACTIONS under Tenzo and Shisui. If he were 13 I'd let him be above or at the same level but like. He's 12. Cmon.)

Tenzo - Shisui (they're like JUST under the next 2 tho like seconds behind)

Izuna - Tobirama

Kakashi ( by the skin of his fucking teeth and the advantage that is his stupid amount of jutsu's and lack of self preservation)

Madara - Hashirama

And again that's not counting like. The specific situations, time given to prepare, potential dirty tricks they could play (I think the Konoha tricks would play a fraction dirtier than the others, who are slightly more used to big open battles vs the ANBU squad who does all sorts of shit in all sorts of places) plus like. Mental state and team ups.

Tenzo or Shisui couldn't take down Izuna or Tobirama but if they teamed up I'd allow it. Kakashi would get his ass kicked by Hashirama or Madara but he could survive a minutes longer than the others would

Itachi is doing his best

But like

He's 12 guys

I love him and he is terrifyingly competent but he won't win 1 on 1 with anyone unless he has some sort of advantage. Minus Shisui and Tenzo who he does have the advantage of regularly fighting, so.

• I think they do get to go back home in the end. It takes a ton of work tho and they probably do need to get Mito's help with it, Kakashi can show them the seal they got brought here with but it's an ACTUAL one in a trillion miracle it didn't fucking atomize them. So it needs a lot of touch ups

Anyways !!!

I have a little more rattling around in my brain but I'm really tired and also starting to think about other things now so I'm gonna stop here. Might come back and add to it later so stay tuned if you're into that

Full disclaimer I'm not gonna write this. I don't have the proper energy and it'd probably end up being too ambitious of a project if I tried. I'd love to see it happen tho, so like !! Big open invitation to absoloutley anyone who might want to take even a fraction of the ideas I've listed.

@ me if you do tho I wanna see the final product

[platinumshawnn]

Bound by Blood and Fire | Benjicot Blackwood x OC!Tully — pt iii

masterlist | playlist | backward | forward

A/N: hi, this post comes to you from queue while i'm at a festival. i'm back with another chapter and some attempted proof reading <33

Synopsis: news of Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen's murder rocks the Seven Kingdoms, intensifying tensions at Raventree Hall. Benjicot urges immediate action against House Bracken, while Samwell advises caution. Serra seeks solace in the godswood amidst growing unease. With the wedding approaching, diplomatic tensions rise as troop movements near their borders escalate, casting a shadow over Benjicot and Serra's impending union

Content Warning(s): adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism and gender based harassment/discrimination, sexual content, mild depictions of family based violence, implied suicide ideation.

Word count: 6.2k

There was no taming the crowd after Samwell’s announcement.

Samwell Blackwood had always been known as a fierce leader who could bring order to any room — stern and formidable in nature, he embodied the traditional values of House Blackwood and its members; a man of thin, slender stature with a quiet voice, he could have been mistaken for being a mild, non-threatening man. If not for his reputation that preceded him his entire life, he might not have appeared as much more than a middle-aged man with tired, sunken eyes that were dark in contrast to his fair complexion, raven-haired with a slight limp that had been acquired from his years of training and small battles that left him permanently scarred — however, quiet as he was, he had a fierce stare that often shifted, like he was constantly analysing his surroundings and a stoic expression most often than not. It was no secret that he was a gifted warrior who was skilled with a sword. At most, the few smiles that he offered were small, ghost-like and never quite reaching his eyes, though reserved for only special occasions.

Serra had witnessed it for the first time in years on the night of her arrival. That little bit of warmth he had in his marrow still, pouring out in small gestures; a squeeze to her hand and reassuring her that her comfort was his utmost priority.

He had been silent the rest of the feast — or whatever it had spiralled into, with his fist pressed to his mouth and expression pinched into one of concentration as the shouting continued; several questions arising amidst the news, “Prince Jaehaerys has been murdered.” It was unsettling to say the least, how calm and collected he was as the words had rolled off his tongue with such nonchalance as though he was only announcing something small such as a shift in the weather; his silence that followed spoke volumes however. His gaze watched the table, the chaos unfolding as men and their own children, and their wives were suddenly in uproar, panic ensuing. Serra vaguely made out the questions, the cries, the slamming of fists on the table that would cause the wood to shudder under her hands; her plate and utensils shaking with the sheer force and clattering against one another. Her gaze had kept down, pinned to the table and unmoving as she eyed the roast goose that had long-since gone cold on her plate, her hands folding in her lap and picking at her nails as she attempted to drown out the noise by the task of ripping at skin until she was near bloody.

“I told you this union would bring nothing but death,” A voice called out, elderly and male, gruff as a clatter of a cup followed. Her head briefly lifted to turn in the direction it came from, finding as an elderly Lord Perryn stood from his seat, “An ill-omen, forged in haste and shadowed by distrust— and what now, Lord Blackwood? You would have my sons die for your own need for more power? Have we not sacrificed enough for your cause, are you not yet satisfied?”

Serra’s head turned to look towards Lord Blackwood, who remained silent and otherwise unbothered by the older Lord’s words, aside from a twitch of his eye as his gaze shifted to her father. She admired the restraint he possessed, unlike his son, and the ability that even when he did not speak, he still oozed self-assured confidence that wasn’t arrogant or reckless but that of maturity and years of experience. She made note for the first time since arrival, that while his son was immature and had yet to grow into himself and his role, she could still see a glimmer of similarity between the two men — both physically and in personality.

She was, however, suddenly startled by the slam of her father’s hand against the table, watching as he stood to his feet with his glare cast down the table. “You would do best to mind your tongue, Lord Perryn,” He loudly warned, a finger jabbing in his direction. “Do not dare curse my daughter’s marriage for the bloodshed.” He continued, his voice shaking with anger.

Serra had never known her father to be a cruel, or angry man. Hell, she had only even heard him shout on a small handful of occasions, thus his reaction left her stunned; staring up at him with wide eyes, watching as he seemed to flip a switch and become a different man right in front of her. Though his outburst did not silence the table entirely, met once again by another voice that shouted from down the table, “Does it not seem strange that coincidentally while you announce your daughter’s betrothal and we are here feasting, children are being murdered in their beds like cattle? Don’t be foolish, Elmo, surely that is some sort of sign—!”

The young Lord who had spoken up second was met with shouts of support, heads nodding in agreement, the anger and tension in the air palpable. She watched then as her father reached quickly for his left hip and withdrew the dagger he kept sheathed there, his hand once again slamming into the table with such force, she visibly jumped in her seat and brought her hands over her ears to cover them from the harsh sound of dishes clattering to the floor; the dagger’s blade lodged into the table as he looked towards the second voice that spoke up, “That is enough, SIT DOWN!”

Serra’s eyes had squeezed shut, head down as the room erupted into further pandemonium, attempting to make herself as small as she physically could in her own seat, wanting nothing but to flee; her feet attempting to push the chair back and away from the table, but unsuccessful. The chair was stuck — she was stuck, and suffocating, drowning as her hands clenched into fists against her ears as she attempted again to shove her chair back, but meeting resistance again. Her chest felt tight with fear and anxiety as her heart pounded in her ears, praying that if this was the moment she died, she would go fast — prayed that the Gods would at least have mercy and that the ground would open up and swallow her whole right then and there.

Her chair was yanked back suddenly, a hand grabbing her left elbow and dragging her upwards and away from the table, like some sort of saviour that had come to answer all her prayers. She gasped in relief, stumbling back and turning to come face-to-face with Kermit, who held her elbow with such a tight grip, she would be sure to have marks in the days to come; but she did not care. She reached out for him, struggling to breathe as he lowered his head to find her gaze, a look of worry on his face as he grabbed her other elbow and gently shook her, his mouth opening with words that she could not quite make out. His head rose to look around, before looking back at his sister and shouting, “Let’s go- now, let’s go!”

She looked at him wide eyed, stumbling over her own feet and thighs bumping into her chair as he turned and began to drag her towards the door, her right elbow in his grasp. A second pair of hands appeared, much larger as one came up and underneath her left bicep, forcing her upright with a sharp jerk that radiated pain throughout the joint as she was rushed out of the great hall. Her head turned to glance behind her and towards where her father remained at the table, along with Oscar who craned his head to look for her from beside their father amidst the havoc. It was only once the doors slammed shut behind them and she was being hurried up the stairs towards her room did she finally breathe, gasping for air as she all but ran to keep up with the longer strides of her brother and the second male who had yet to say anything.

The run back to her rooms felt longer than it ever had, her lungs screaming for oxygen and joints aching as the three approached her door. Kermit reached to open the door as she was then shoved inside, nearly tripping over her dress but steadied by the second’s hand. It was only once she was safe in the confines of her room did she turn to look at him — truly, look at him — finding Benjicot already reaching for the door handle to pull the door closed. He seemed to hesitate, his eyes catching hers and pausing. Even in the dim lighting that the moon provided, streaming in through the window, she saw his eyes narrow and mouth open as if he wanted to say something to her but interrupted by Kermit’s voice.

“Stay here.” He instructed, his defeated expression over Benjicot’s shoulder.

Kermit spun and turned on his heel before Serra could muster a reply, leaving the Blackwood heir standing there, his eyes still on her.

“What-” She began to ask but stopped as he blinked a couple of times, snapping out of whatever daze kept him at her door; his mouth snapping shut abruptly and giving her a small nod before he shut the door in her face.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was a sleepless night for the Blackwood and Tully men. After Benjicot and Kermit had returned to the great hall, the leftover contents of what had once been a celebration now torn apart and ruined at the hands of angry men, Benjicot had spent the remainder of the evening playing at damage control. Naturally, on their own, men and their families had started to trickle out the door, muttering and scoffing as guards nearly shoved them out of Raventree’s looming halls. It had taken several hours to clear everyone out and even get the hall close to presentable, but it had been done — however, the pressing issue at hand had yet to be resolved.

War was coming — Benjicot was no fool. He was also not foolish enough to believe his betrothal had any hand in the matter, either.

Amidst overseeing that everything was cleaned and put back together as best the hall could be, he had found himself wandering, pacing around the table and trying to offer a hand in cleaning up chalices and dishes that had been strewn about in the madness; stacking them in his arms as he circled. His pace was slow, gaze lingering as his eyelids grew heavier with exhaustion -- soon enough an hour passed into two, and by the time the hall looked even close to what it had previously been, the sun was already rising; Kermit having since retreated to his chambers at his insistence. He hadn’t been much company in his tired state, silent and lurking as he tried to help, but instead getting in the way more often than not — he knew his friend hadn’t slept much the night prior either, having been riddled with anxiety over the arrival of his father and worried about whether he had been successful in his duty, and Benjicot would not have asked him to stay up again.

The glow of sunrise was streaming in through the windows by the time the last of the chairs had been returned to their place and the last dish brought to the kitchen, servants beginning to make their way back to their own quarters, leaving him sat alone in the great hall; his tired gaze out the window as he perched himself in the window’s ledge that overlooked the gardens. His hands were preoccupied by a cup that had been thrown among the fighting earlier that night, him entering the hall just as it missed Oscar’s head, slamming into the wall behind him and splattering wine against the cool, marble walls; Elmo having dragged him out of the way just in time. The cup had been thrown by a young Bigglestone boy after Oscar had made a snide remark in his direction after an insult had been muttered about his sister — the soon-to-be-bride — a comment that had labelled the poor girl as his ‘Blackwood bitch’. Benjicot had simply chosen to tune him out and ignore him as he attempted to taunt the heir, muttering a lewd comment at him as he brushed past the youth who implied he’d defiled her in his short leave from the room because there was no use fighting with him and making things worse than they already were in the given climate of things.

He slid from his spot in the window, his gaze dropping to the cup in his hand as he slowly dragged himself towards the table that was spotless; a ghost of last night’s events as he approached the head. The cup was set down, his eyes being drawn to the chip in the wood where Lord Elmo’s dagger had pierced itself; having left a visible mark in the dark wood, splintered in the process of yanking it from its depths. Benjicot could still see his father’s roll of eyes when his peer had yanked the dagger out, noticing the new mark — before landing on him again, giving him a raised eyebrow. He had given him a nod as if to answer that ‘she was alright’, tucked away in the safety of her room — Elmo wouldn’t have ever forgiven him if anything had come to her, if he broke his word.

“Have you slept at all?”

His head whipped around towards where his father stood in the doorway, his expression plain and still as he eyed his son, his hands at the hilt of his sword at his waist.

“No.” Benjicot admitted, his gaze turning back to the table towards where Serra had sat prior.

He heard his father hum as his hand reached out to brush over the chipped wood, fingers memorising the imperfection, “Any particular reason?” Samwell asked.

His tone was flat and held no particular emotion — but Benjicot had never really known his father to be an expressive man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He had always been reserved and stoic, and the type of man you had to read between the lines with — he cared, somewhere deep down, Benjicot knew he cared, but he didn’t show it the way other parents did. It had been a confusing trait as a child, but as he grew, he’d come to terms with it and understood it better; not perfected, but just enough to communicate. Even if he recalled his childhood and thought of his parents, and the relationship they shared, Benjicot never knew them to be warm and affectionate in the way other parents were — not in the way he had witnessed between the Tully’s; with Elmo and his wife, with their open affection and adoration for one another, their loyalty to each other possessing a depth that Benjicot wasn’t sure he could understand. He’d envied it, even as a boy.

His head tilted, eyes still downcast on the table as his shoulders rose and fell with a breath, unsure why he had stayed up all night. Surely, he wasn’t obligated to stay awake and watch over the staff as they cleaned up — they would have done well on their own. He shrugged, while dragging his thumb across the splintered wood, noting the sharp ridges that just pricked his finger, but not enough for the wood to pierce his skin and embed itself into his finger, “Figured…I would stay here, oversee that everything was fixed. Made presentable again.” He mumbled, his voice quiet as it carried across the room to where his father watched him.

“They would have been fine.” He stated, sharing his exact thoughts. He didn’t answer, his gaze lifting and looking at Serra’s chair, his eyes falling on a handkerchief that had fallen into her seat sometime in the scuffle to get her out of there, “How is Serra?” Samwell asked.

“Shaken. Terrified…seems like everything scares her though.” He admitted.

The image of her face, screwed up in fear, with her hands over her ears like a frightened child was still ingrained in his mind, helpless to flee from the conflict. He had only noticed her terror upon seeing Kermit’s face, across the table and waving Benjicot up as her chair crashed into his knee when he turned to stand; he had tried to grab the chair, stop her and move the chair with more grace, but was again slammed by the chair as it jammed into his chest. In that very moment, he felt sorry for her — his shoulders relaxing and truly feeling sorry for the girl who had not a single violent, angry bone in her body.

“She’s a sensitive girl,” His father stated, falling into a silent pause before speaking again. “She always has been, if you remember.” He quickly added, trying to gauge his son’s reaction on the matter.

He sighed under his breath, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Benjicot finally looked over at his father, their eyes meeting, sensing that his father wanted to say more. But he was silent, his own dark eyes settling on the handkerchief embroidered with flowers in the Tully’s house colours.

His father had always had a soft spot for Serra, even as children. He couldn’t count anymore how many times he and his father had quarrelled over the subject of being kinder to her -- maybe it was in part because Samwell had only ever had the one child, a son, and he felt the paternal instinct to protect her. Maybe he considered her like a daughter in those moments, and it made him wonder if the idea to betroth them had always been there, somewhere in the background and Benjicot had just failed to see it.

“I realise you would probably prefer to rest but we have a meeting. I advise you to go, clean up and change before the council gathers to discuss last night’s news.” Samwell said, eyeing his son’s appearance, his expression softening just the smallest bit — the only way that Benjicot had come to recognize it, by the way the tension in his brow eased.

Benjicot nodded, feeling worse than he probably appeared, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a tousled mess. His clothes from the night prior were probably covered in wine and food, caked somewhere to the fabric if he looked, but he knew he probably smelled even worse; with yesterday’s events still on his skin like a layer of grime that only he could feel. He waited, however, until his father turned to leave before he moved, circling the table towards the chair that had once seated the Tully girl. His fingers snapped up the fabric that had been abandoned, balling it into his fist as he then strode out of the hall, following in tow of his father’s prior movements.

And even as he returned to his room, dressed and splashed some water onto his face from the basin, he still did not feel any better. He did not feel any less hollow and heavy, limbs pinned at his side with exhaustion as he returned a mere few moments later to the familiar private solar that belonged to his father. His feet dragged as he walked, trudging his way through the castle, and even before the doors had opened, he could hear the voices of the men inside; already in debate.

There was a pause when he entered, their eyes turning to greet him as he forced himself to walk across the room and take his place by his father’s right. Benjicot noted that while the group was smaller than usual, he recognized the lords from the night prior; much calmer than the last time they had been in the same room as his father had hesitated, voice faltering mid-sentence at his arrival, “I understand the concern over what happens next following the death of the prince, but we do not have any reason to suspect that the Brackens will use this as an opportunity to move in.” Samwell resumed, his gaze briefly flickering to his son before it cast down to Lord Charlton.

“They already have begun, I hear— there are whispers that your men patrolling the borders say they spotted a camp of Bracken men close to the boundaries in the early hours of the morning.” He stated, his eyes expectant and waiting for an answer.

Samwell’s gaze was unflinching, hands planted on the table in front of him as a hushed series of mutters broke out in response, the young Lord Edric Charlton who Benjicot recognized — not quite the head of his house yet, rather, he was the heir apparent to his father, Lord Jon Charlton. He was barely ten-and-seven, tall and thin with a boyish face despite his efforts to appear older underneath an unruly beard and knight uniform that was too big, making him resemble a boy playing pretend with his father’s clothes. The sight of him brought Benjicot a sense of relief that while he had never been as strong and sturdy as a Northernman, he had at least grown into his height and filled out enough that at least his clothes flattered him, fitting just right and not hanging from his limbs like some sort of sack.

“They know better than to set camp on Blackwood land,” Samwell asserted, his tone dismissive. “They are not of any concern at this point in time.”

“And then what, when they do decide to make their move?” The voice this time comes from Lord Jason Mallister, his voice a low timbre that cut through the mutters among the men who quietly debated in between questions.

“Then rest assured, we will be prepared.” Elmo spoke, the confidence in his voice unwavering, stepping forward from his previous position close to the wall.

“I will not have any unnecessary bloodshed without a suitable cause.” Samwell continued, standing upright from his leaned position.

“So, we sit and wait and allow the Brackens to have the upper hand, by growing stronger every day in the meantime?” Benjicot suddenly interrupted, his voice quiet as he looked at his father. It was a bold decision for him to defy his father’s orders, even just challenging them, but his exhaustion and distaste for the Brackens lessened his inhibitions in speaking. The room turned to stare at the heir, who had otherwise been silent up to that point — his own father turned, too, looking at him. In a moment of bravery, he cared little for trying to hold back and restrain himself, restless as he let out a breath and rolled his shoulders, “The news from King's Landing is a clear sign that we must act. The Targaryens are vulnerable, and the Brackens are undoubtedly planning to exploit this chaos. This is only a warning. We need to take decisive action before they do. We cannot delay it any longer.” He slowly explained, the room hanging on his every word, earning a couple of low hums in agreement from the room.

His father, however, remained silent and stared at him; Benjicot held his eye for a moment, “Benjicot, your passion is commendable,” he said, emphasis on his last word, “but we must temper it with wisdom. Rushing into conflict without a clear strategy could lead to our ruin. We need to gather more information and strengthen our alliances before making any move.”

“Your father is right. We cannot afford to act rashly, especially with the news from King's Landing still uncertain. A misstep now could shatter our alliances.” Elmo interjected, cutting through the palpable tension between the Blackwood father and son.

He was grateful for Elmo’s interruption, giving him reason to drop his father’s gaze and shifting his eyes to look towards Lord Elmo, “Forgive me, I only mean to suggest we should pressure the Bracken cunts into remembering their place.” He explained. “They encroach on our lands, in an effort to test our defences. We need to show them that House Blackwood and its allies will not be intimidated. Send me, I will take a small fleet of men to confront them at the borders—”

“Absolutely not. I will not have you running so freely, making messes while there are more pressing matters at hand—no.” Samwell stated, rambling, his annoyance to the idea clear. “I understand your frustration, son, but impulsiveness will not serve us well. We must consider the wider implications of our actions. The Brackens are not our only concern; the realm is in turmoil. A poorly timed strike could isolate us from other potential allies and make us vulnerable to our enemies.”

Benjicot stepped forward, approaching the table and facing his father who shot him a warning look, “You would truly rather risk giving them the opportunity to make the first move on us? In these times?” He questioned, dumbfounded. “And then what? Would you truly rather sit and wait for them to advance and burn Raventree to the ground?”

“No— no, Gods be good, Benjicot!” Lord Samwell snapped, slamming a hand into the table, “we prepare. We fortify our positions, gather intelligence, and reach out to other houses who share our concerns. We build a coalition that can stand against the Brackens and any other threats that may arise. This is a time for careful planning, not reckless aggression.”

Ben saw reason in his father’s words — he didn’t lack intelligence and was a reasonable man when it came to matters of battle and of council. Reckless, sure, but he was smart enough to see the value in his words and approach, and had always admired his father’s wisdom and experience. But the suggestion of inaction while Brackens taunted them by camping right there, right in their fucking faces — it spurred a deep rage in him, his jaw clenched so hard he felt it would break any moment. He was restless, and anxious these days, to say the least.

“Our people look to us for protection. If we hesitate, we risk appearing weak. The Brackens and any others that stand against us and the rightful queen must know that any aggression will be met with force.” Benjicot countered, his tone persistent and pushing like a child testing their parent’s patience -- a battle that Samwell was used to after twenty-one years. Slowly, Ben dragged his eyes around the room as the sound of mutters rose up once again, met with a few mutters that agreed -- it seemed as though the older, experienced Lords sided one way, in favour of restraint while the younger lords muttered in agreement. The sight emboldened him, squaring his shoulders.

“Benjicot raises a valid point. The Brackens have been testing our boundaries. A show of strength might deter them from further provocations.” A gruff sounding Lord Roose Rivers agreed, an older man that only made an appearance when it mattered most.

Benjicot turned to look at his father, catching the twitch up a scowl on his lip as he sighed, “A show of strength, yes, but not without a plan.” He said. “We need to gather more intelligence, understand their movements, and ensure our own defences are impenetrable.”

Elmo nodded from his father’s left, his gaze scanning the scrolls that littered the table, “Indeed. The wedding is set for a fortnight, and with it, the eyes of many houses will be upon us. Any action we take must be measured and precise.”

For the first time in days, the mention of the wedding returned, and any confidence that Benjicot had briefly experienced was fleeting; his heart pounding suddenly as his head turned to look at his father at the mention of the wedding date. Samwell did not even bother to look at him, though he could see the way he blinked and looked down, his mouth twisting into a subtle frown and avoiding his gaze. There had not even been any consultation that involved him in the decision -- he assumed Elmo and his father had met before they all gathered and made the unanimous decision before he’d even had a chance to protest. He felt sick, swallowing thickly and looking away, remembering to respond before the silence dragged out too long.

“I understand the need for caution, but we cannot wait forever. We…must send a message that we are ready to defend our lands.” He stuttered, his voice quieter now.

He watched as councilman Merrett Rivers leaned forward in his chair,”Perhaps a compromise. We could strengthen our patrols along the border, make it clear we are vigilant. This would show our resolve without committing to open conflict.”

His father spoke, gaze turning to look at Elmo who shrugged, nodding, “That could work. Increased patrols will demonstrate our readiness and buy us time to devise a more comprehensive strategy.” His body turned to face the heir who still felt as though his head was underwater, a sharp pain throbbing behind his right eye and squeezing the hilt of his dagger, “Does that please you, Benjicot?” He asked, his tone sharp.

He reluctantly found his father’s eye, pinning him to his very spot as he slowly offered a nod, “Very well. We will increase the patrols. That way we are ready for them, should they come.”

For the first time in years, Samwell smiled -- though it was not a genuine smile, holding no warmth or sincerity as his mouth pressed into a fine line, tight and visibly forced; it was unsettling, cold, and caused him to swallow again and want to shrink back into his corner. His hand suddenly lifted quickly to his shoulder, coming down heavy enough to jostle him, gripping his shoulder with an almost painfully tight squeeze that feigned an affectionate gesture, ”We will, my son. Trust in the wisdom of caution, and we might navigate these turbulent times together.”

Samwell’s hand slid from his shoulder after a moment, turning his head to look away, though Benjicot remained unmoving and feeling the seething anger that radiated from the older man, knowing he had overstepped. He had overstepped and he wouldn’t hear the end of it, he would be lectured in private for undermining him -- in the heat of the moment, bold and stupid, he had gotten too carried away and felt invincible and brave for a moment.

“Now…onto the next order. We’ve received word of a troop movement from the Swyft household.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

For yet another sleepless night, Serra was plagued by dreams that were hardly more than smears of colour and images of Benjicot’s face.

It seemed as though, the moment she stepped foot into Raventree three days prior, she had not been able to escape him -- both in sleep and awake. He seemed to be at every turn and there was no avoiding him, despite her best efforts. He was the only clear thing that her dreams held on to, her eyelids fluttering with sleep as the night seemed to drag into years for her, waking every hour just to briefly scan her room, only for eyes to close again.

Though, unlike the boy who skulked the halls of Raventree Hall, the boy in her dreams was all soft smiles, pleased and content with gentle eyes and reaching out to touch her cheeks. He was careful and kind, his tone low and sweet as honey -- she couldn’t grasp just what it was he was saying, his mouth moving with words, but her dream prevented her from making sense of it. He was speaking to her but her brain could not comprehend what it was he was saying.

And then there was a boy…dimpled, sweet, and with raven hair.

He reached for her, bouncing on his heels excitedly as he summoned her forward. He was familiar in the way that you remember your first friend, all but three and beautiful. Serra assumed it was Benjicot too, however, the boy in front of her lacked the scar above his lip, and the smile was different. She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but there was something about him at the tip of her finger that was different.

She vaguely recalled the boy coming towards her, hand outstretched and planting to her abdomen and shouting something. She had tried to ask him to repeat it but the words still did not reach her ears. Planted against a swollen belly, filled by babe. His face had melted into something of terror then, bloodied and distraught, her gaze drifting behind him where the bodies lay stacked, stiffened with death and the waft of burning flesh -- her skin burned, the heat of the field behind him that was ablaze as he shouted up at her.

And then there he was again -- Benjicot, knelt in front of her as his hand reached out to her smeared in blood as fingers splayed out across her belly. His expression this time, however, pleading to her, begging and sobbing in fear. He looked small for the first time, like a frightened child and it caused her heart to genuinely ache for the boy.

Since dawn, she had found herself in the godswoods behind Raventree, sitting at the foot of the dead weirwood tree looming over her as she observed its trunk. She had heard years ago about the rumours -- the story of Brackens poisoning the once lively, beautiful tree, though the latter vehemently denied the accusations. The source of a long standing feud that more often than not ended bloody.

She had woken to her hand at her belly that morning, right over where Benjicot’s had placed itself, tugging at the fabric of her skirt like a young boy trying to get his mother’s attention. The image of his face haunted her, scared and wide eyed as he pleaded. For what? She did not know. The words had long since faded, slipping from her despite how hard she concentrated on retelling its details.

Her fingers were plucking at the grass, some spots dried and dead around the tree, with its face faded with time. By noon, she had missed breakfast, refusing to leave her spot at its foot and listening to the distant sounds of ravens that hung over the hall and the distant shout from men when Ser Alistair approached her and notified her. It seemed noon would soon too pass and she would miss lunch when a voice cleared their throat from behind her, her gaze not lifting from the grass underneath her fingers, “Yes?”

“Do you plan to join us for dinner?” Kermit asked, his hands folded behind him as he expectantly looked at his sister. He watched as she lifted her gaze briefly, eyes closed and inhaling deeply.

She looked down again, “I don’t think so.”

Her brother hummed in response, nodding slightly behind her. He reluctantly approached her side, kneeling beside her and looking up at the tree in front of them — she glanced towards him from the corner of her eye, “It would have been beautiful to see in its glory.” He suddenly announced, her gaze flickering up towards the tree that held his attention. “I always preferred the godswood here.” Kermit continued.

They were silent for a moment as he just sat and observed the tree, his sister silent and plucking and collecting grass in her fist that she sprinkled down every so often, “You’re getting thin and wasting.” He said, his head turning to look at her.

“It’s only been three days.” She replied, voice soft. “I have eaten.”

“Next to naught.” He quickly countered. “Father worries about you, you know. As do I.”

Her head lifted, squinting as the sun momentarily managed to peek through the clouds that hung over the land, bright in her eyes as she sighed, “Do not patronise me, Kermit. I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

She could see him frown from where he sat, “I do not patronise you. I sincerely mean it. You know I care about your wellbeing.”

She scoffed a bitter laugh, “You’ve a funny way of showing that.”

He looked down to his lap, silent once again in quiet contemplation. He remembered what he had done, in his drunken stupor, “I do not find your suffering funny, you know that, Serra.” He said, looking up. “There is no need for theatrics.”

She stared at him then, stunned that he did not seem remorseful, “Theatrics?” She echoed, hurt by the choice of word. “You laughed, brother. He humiliated me and you laughed. After you tried to convince me that he would be an honourable husband to take. You laughed.”

“I did not mean it.” He sincerely said, his voice softening as he deflated with a sigh, looking back to find her eyes. “I would never do that to you. Never in my sober mind.”

“You are supposed to be on my side— you are supposed to defend and protect me.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t do that.”

He quietly spoke above a whisper, “I know.”

She looked away and up at the tree, unsure what else there was to say to him, “if I could undo it, redo everything, I would.” He said. “I wish I could. But do not starve yourself for that— I made a mistake, and I’m sorry.” Kermit said.

She looked at him, right in his face as he glanced over at her. He pushed himself up from the ground, standing over her and leaning to rest a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Please eat.” He encouraged, before he withdrew his hand and returned to the house.

backward | forward

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[destielnoirbang]

Bette Davis Eyes

By ValandraWrites | @valandrawrites Art by kingdumbass | @kingdumbass

Coming to Ao3 on 12/06/2024

Rated Explicit | 23,330 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

When Dean Winchester takes the case of a missing person named Castiel Milton, he doesn’t realize he is stepping into a web of secrets, danger, and deceit. The dark alleys and smoke-laden gin joints become his hunting ground, and every lead points to a name whispered with equal parts reverence and dread: Angel. In an era where love between two men is a dangerous secret best kept silent, Dean finds himself entwined with a blue-eyed beauty by an undeniable bond as dangerous as it is profound. The stakes are high, and with each layer of dirt they peel away comes more secrets. Love and loyalty are tested, and Dean and Castiel have to decide if they will risk defying the odds and carve out a path together amidst a world hell-bent on ripping them apart. Or The one where gumshoe Dean Winchester meets criminal Castiel “Angel” Krushnic, and things do not go as planned.

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

He glides through the unseemly crowd like mercury in a lamplight, his footfalls barely whispering against the concrete beneath the murky cover of cigarette smoke and lust. The dim lights swaying overhead barely graze his face, shrouded beneath the shadow of a faded fedora. When it does, it reveals eyes of sapphire steel that create their own gravitational pull in this grimy joint.

Every voice hushes, and every whiskey-soaked gaze turns as he strides through the warren of illicit dealings and poker-faced cons. They know him, this enigma wrapped in a trench coat. They respect him — or perhaps they fear him. After all, his reputation precedes him. At the end of the dive bar, he gives a curt nod toward Crowley. A mere mortal by comparison but infamous in his ways, their alliance is an uncomfortable reality that sets my teeth on edge.

The dregs of my whiskey burn in my throat as I admit that Angel’s presence casts a long shadow over Castiel’s sudden disappearance like thunderclouds, signaling an incoming downpour. I know one thing with certainty — unraveling Angel’s secrets was the key to finding Castiel, or it might pull me deeper into an ominous plot about to unfold.

[leclerc-s]

you're honor, i am innocent. HE is the guilty one!

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bailey winters listen, my third wheel is lando's best friend, whom i happen to like more than lando.

lando norris nah, that's some bullshit.

bailey winters max has never sent me away to spend time with carlos.

carlos sainz how many more times do i have to apologize for that? bailey winters so many times sainz. so many.

zoya torres you people are such shit stirrers. i love it.

rhys jones should change the group chat name to that.

fernando alonso i think the one now is more accurate

esteban ocon rip multi-21, you were iconic while you lasted (almost 2 years)

sebastian vettel please don't start this up again.

daniel jones-ricciardo please do, it's been far too long since we've had a multi-21 inchident.

charles leclerc oh my god.

bailey winters pray for lando, we're hanging out with max again.

max jones-verstappen no, we'll pray for you.

baileywinters posted new stories

hanging out with weens are you tired maximus? will never understand brits, especially ones who wear hoodies when it's warm

maximus bailey, please come and get this man.

american (derogatory) i'm in the studio.

maximus that is a fucking lie!

one win wonder carlos wouldn't treat me this way.

american (derogatory) maybe you should date carlos instead.

maximus she is a singer lando, she will destroy you if you piss her off.

american (derogatory) up until a week ago i couldn't of written the alchemy about him because he'd never won a race.

one win wonder BUT I'VE HELD TROPHIES BEFORE

one win wonder and at least i made it to f1

american (derogatory) BOOOO!!! GET THIS GUY OUT OF HERE!!! HE SUCKS!!!

maximus and to think you could've had a win since 2021 but you fucked it up.

one win wonder CARLOS WOULD NEVER!!!

american (derogatory) GO BE WITH CARLOS BITCH!! WE DON'T WANT YOU HERE!!

maximus CLEARLY HE'S THE BETTER FRIEND AND LOVER! GO BE WITH HIM.

one win wonder THIS IS BULLYING!! YOU'RE BULLIES!! MONSTERS BOTH OF YOU

bailey winters i'm giving one boyfriend away to carlos sainz. please come pick him up. let it be known he comes with baggage (his gaming shit)

lando norris I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT!!

max fewtrell YOU RAT!

penelope trevino what the hell is going on?

lando norris they (bailey and max) were bullying me so i said carlos would never do that to me and now they're mad.

max fewtrell you're so fake lando.

carlos sainz i would never bully him. i love him.

penelope trevino oh my god. not this again.

lando norris you will never be able to separate true love

bailey winters match made in hell.

penelope trevio soulmates those two.

max fewtrell i have never known peace since they met.

carlos sainz we are not that bad. you people are just haters.

bailey winters famous last words sainz.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! missed a day because i genuinely had no idea what i was going to write for this part.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[scented-morker]

Getting Caught with TXT

when the members don’t know you’re dating but walk in on you kissing… requested, fluff, kissing but I wouldn’t consider it suggestive?, 300-400 words each, gn reader (I think) lmk if I missed anything

Yeonjun

No because he wanted to get caught

Not only were you over at the dorms, but you were also in the living room 🫣

“Please baby, just one kiss,” he puckers his lips dramatically, “I think I’ll die without it.”

He’d been begging you to give him kisses since you walked in, but he wouldn’t take you to his room and you didn’t want one of the boys to walk in

But he knows you have a weak heart so he’s just whine and whine until you finally give in

He knows he’s got you when you roll your eyes, heaving out a sigh and making your way over to where he’s sitting on the couch

Grabs your waist and tugs you onto his lap as soon as you’re in arms length, self satisfied smile on his face 🤭

He cuts you off after every protest, and eventually you just give up, melting into the kiss

You can feel him smirk when you do so, but a moment later and there’s a screaming coming from the doorway

You can feel him smirk when you do so, but a moment later and there’s a screaming coming from the doorway

“Hyung on the couch?!? Are you kidding me?!?”

Beomgyu is scandalized and more focused on the fact that he sits on that couch than he is that the two of you are dating 😭

You knew it was going to happen, and you jump out of his lap, punching Yeonjun’s shoulder repeatedly while he just laughs

The two of you decided to tell the truth about your relationship after that, but not about how many times that exact thing had happened before as to save Beomgyu some pain 😁

Soobin

This takes place during his MC era (rip mc soobin you were the best) 🐬

He had met you at an award show during debut time, and now after a few years of pining you guys were dating 🎉

Neither one of you had said anything to your company or members, deciding to just see what happens and make sure it’s serious before starting that awkward conversation

Which meant you had to be SNEAKY AF to get into his dressing room after your interview

He had spent the entire episode trying not to ogle you too much, and it took all his self restraint to not stare when you answered Arin’s question

You just looked so pretty and he hadn’t seen you in a while because of your comeback preparation 🥺🥺

So imagine his surprise when he walked into his dressing room and saw it completely empty except for you sitting in his makeup chair

“BABY??”

You smiled as soon as he entered, and ran towards his open arms, Soob immediately suffocating you in a hug

“How did you get in here? Where’s everyone else?”

“I told my members I was feeling sick and then told your staff there was free coffee in the cafeteria” 😁

A little crazy, but you’re his baby so it’s okay

“You’re so smart!! Let me reward you for that big brain of yours” 😳

And bam!! KISS ATTACK

He’s got one hand in the back of your head, the other on your waist, his hand covering the exposed skin from your cropped stage outfit 😵‍💫

You were both so excited to be with each other that you didn’t even notice the door opening, until it was followed by a very pointed cough

Head whipping around, you were greeted by all four of his members, coffees in hand and scarred looks on their faces

“Nice to meet you sunbaenims, I’m a big fan” 😁

Beomgyu

He had met you at a fan meet once, and then ran into you while on a convenience store run.. eventually decided to ask for your number and boom a few months later he’s your boyfriend

He never introduced you to the boys, partially bc he didn’t want them to give him a lecture about protecting his reputation blah blah blah.. and partially because he’s about 85% sure you’d cry

Moa first, gf second 💪

But when the boys all have plans for the day he doesn’t think twice about inviting you over

As soon as you show up he takes you to his room, and immediately tackles you onto the bed, laying his entire body over your own

“Gyu,” you giggle at his eager affection.

“I missed you so much.”

“I know, I missed you too but you’re about to suffocate me.”

He rolls off of you and lays on his side to stare at you 🥰

After a few minutes of you squirming under his gaze he finally puts his lips on yours, a playful peck before pulling away even as you whine for more

“Gosh you’re so needy,” he giggles, placing a few more pecks in your lips in quick succession and enjoying the way you chase his 🫣

You whine again, and he targets the spot he knows you’re ticklish, leaving you a squealing and squirming mess under him

He eventually lets you catch your breath, leaning down to finally give you a real kiss

However your laughter had been so loud that neither of you had heard the front door unlock and open 😃

And while Taehyun would normally mind his own business, he heard a new voice and wanted to make sure it wasn’t a crazy fan in their dorms

Regrets it as soon as he walks in

Beomgyu stares at him with wide eyes, fully prepared to ramble off an explanation

“You know what, I don’t even care. I’m just gonna grab my charger and pretend I didn’t see that.”

You’re frozen even after he leaves, and beomgyu pouts at your shocked and unresponsive self

“He’s so pretty in real life.” 🥹

Taehyun

Honestly Taehyun wasn’t keeping your relationship a secret on purpose, it just hadn’t come up yet so he hadn’t said anything 🤷🏻‍♀️

So he invites you over before even checking if any of the boys are home because he was STRESSED

He’d tried going to the gym to get some of his frustrations out but it didn’t help

So his next line of attack on whatever negative feelings were messing with him — you 😁

Except he miscalculated when he would be home and left you standing in the cold outside for ten minutes because he wasn’t home yet 😔

But once you were in the dorms it was boyfriend time !!!!

Not really though because he had to shower so you sat there shivering on his bed and scrolling through your phone for ten minutes

But when he got out of the shower !!! Boyfriend time !!!

He had a towel wrapped around his neck and a pair of sweats on when he walks back into his room, and you desperately try not to stare

“I’m sorry I left you standing outside,” he apologizes while sliding a tshirt on, ever the caring and attentive boyfriend 🤭

“It’s okay tyun, I survived, just a little cold.”

He turns to look at you, approaching where you sit cross crossed on his bed and putting his hands on your arms

“Are you still cold?”

His presence always has a way of flustering you, and ironically it floods warmth to your face and the rest of your body

“Just a little,” you practically whisper due to his closeness to your face

He’s a menace, and definitely realizes the effect he’s having on you

“I can warm you up hm?”

At that he presses a soft kiss to your lips, siding his hands up and down your arms as you lean further into him

Your head is spinning and you don’t even realize someone else is in the room until you hear them talk

“You’re not even going to stop kissing? Really?” Yeonjun’s voice rings in your ears, and suddenly you’re very aware of your surroundings again, tearing away from your boyfriend's lips and jumping up to hide behind his body 😭😭

“Why didn’t you stop when he walked in!!” You whisper yell into his ear

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself, I couldn’t stop that.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

He smiles and has the nerve to KISS YOU AGAIN before turning to explain to his oldest member

Kai

Listen he was just a lil shy.. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell his members about you, it was that he didn’t want to get endlessly teased for it

So the two of you hung out on his off days or when the other boys weren’t around

He saw you more often than he saw other people because you happened to be in the same group as his sister 🤭

So he was desperately hiding you from the boys and you were desperately hiding him from hiyyih 😭

So you guys are both doing backstage for MAMA and Hiyyih wants to go wish the boys good luck so obviously you volunteer to go with her bc you’re just that good of a friend 🤩

When the two of you arrive only four of the boys are there, and you immediately question their leader on where your boyfriend is while Hiyyih starts talking to the others, completely unbothered about her missing brother 😁

“I think he was going to the vending machine.”

So you volunteer to go check on him, because once again you’re just such a good friend

But when you find him it appears he’s already gotten his drink out of the vending machine because he’s standing in a stairwell sipping on it

“Oh thank goodness, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” he giggles, setting his drink on the step and grabbing you by your waist to pull you closer to himself 🤭

“How did you know I was going to come look for you?”

“I ran as soon as I heard Hiyyih say she was going to greet us. I knew you’d come with.”

You laugh, placing a fleeting kiss on his lips.

“You know me so well.” 🤩

He kisses you again once the words are out of your mouth

“I’ve missed kissing you,” he pouts, “why do my members have to love me so much they never go away.” 😔

You laugh but let him cup your cheeks

“They’re not here now.”

There are no more words exchanged after that, as he keeps one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck, melding your lips together

But of course Soobin had noticed that the two of you were gone too long and had come to check on you like the good leader he was 💪

He and Kai both yell when they see each other, and Soobin practically drags their maknae by the ear back to the rehearsal area

It isn’t until the three of you return that you realize you had red lipstick on, and it’s now smeared all over both yours and your boyfriends mouths 😳

He’s drug back to the makeup artist while you’re left with a glaring Hiyyih

“We could be sisters” 😁

[nicollekidman]

i was not the anon who asked about a gaylor safe space but i AM unfamiliar with your lore and have now been made curious, is there a spark notes version

oh um hm. hmm. original fan (owned self titled on cd), red was the soundtrack to my freshman year of college and 1989 was my junior year at nyu so yknow i was in the trenches, reputation era i was a Certified Popular Taylor Blog(tm) (rip) which means like. i was getting FOUL anonymous messages every single day from rock star trolls but i was also getting intel from at least three people i know were legit, im 91% positive at one point (however brief) she was keeping up with my blog directly, i got interviewed by jezebel after karlie got engaged 🤪, then lover was still kind of in a boom period and then folklore/evermore dropped and i was dating a big swiftie at the time so we talked about her for like hours every day….. now im just kind of trying to be a normal rational adult woman who has loved her nearly my whole life but also isn’t a bootlicker. i think she’s gay but i also don’t think it will ever matter in a material way because the odds she ever comes out or ever makes genuine art again is feeling slimmer by the day and that’s fine. besties is that a good Summary djdjdjcjcn

[luimagines]

I HAVE AN UNFINISHED STORY THING THAT I WANT TO SHARE!!!!!!!

(I haven’t worked out all the details yet so I’m just gonna give you the gist of it.)

The Chain are settled for the evening and hear screams in the forest and go investigate… there they find a pregnant reader (at least 6 months) about to be attacked by the shadow and its monsters. The Chain defeat the monsters and the shadow retreats. They patch up reader and try to ask questions as to why she was attacked. They don’t get much out of her, all reader can really say is-

“None of the townsfolk like me, but I don’t think anyone would want me dead.”

The Chain is wary of the situation but promise to protect reader for the night and escort her back home in the morning. Eventually during a very tasty dinner, the baby kicks and reader goes-

“You like it too, Link?”

While gazing lovingly at her belly and rubbing the spot where the baby kicked. The entire Chain immediately freeze. Time and Wars eventually snap out of the shock and start to ask questions.

“Your baby’s name is Link?”

“Yes.”

“Is he named after the father?”

Reader scoffs. “No. I don’t wish my child to have anything in common with that bastard.”

“What made you want to name him Link?”

“It came to me in a dream.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

Reader gets a bit sheepish. “Well… I don’t. But in my dreams I always see a boy. However, I do have a name in case he turns out to be a she. Lana. Pretty, right?”

(Cue Wars getting PTSD flashbacks. MOVING ON!!!)

Similar questions continue until reader gets fed up and is like-

“Ok, what’s going on? Why are you all so interested in me and my child?”

The Chain just looks among each other as they’re unsure of what to tell reader as they’ve just met and she’s already been attacked tonight so her mental state probably isn’t the best. Legend just goes-

“Are you positive you’ve never seen the shadow or anything like it before?”

Reader hesitates for a moment before answering. The Chain notices and pushes her on it. They eventually convince her to tell them.

“Well… not all the dreams I have about my child are good. Actually, most of them are terrible nightmares.”

“Can you tell us what happens in these nightmares?”

Reader sighs. “Truthfully, it’s just one repeating nightmare. I wake up in what appears to be a castle or something similar and I’m covered in blood. I hear a baby crying and I rush to the sound as fast as I can, I end up in a circular room and on the other side of it… there’s a black figure with red eyes holding my sleeping baby and grinning at me. Before I can get close to my baby, a horrible stabbing pain rips through my chest… and then I wake up.”

So yeah, the Chain realize that reader is carrying this era’s hero of courage. They decide to take reader with them to keep her and the baby safe from the shadow. It’s a big adjustment for everyone involved… The Chain have to learn how to continue their adventure with a pregnant lady they have to care for while reader has to learn how to maneuver life traveling with all these men on a dangerous journey.

Probable questions with answers.

Q. Why don’t the townsfolk like reader?

A. Because she got pregnant with the Mayor’s son’s child… out of wedlock.

Q. Why did they ask if the baby was named after the father?

A. They were hoping that the hero of that era was already an adult and had finished his adventure so the baby was in no danger of carrying the fate attached to their shared name.

Q. Why does reader hate the father?

A. Because they got trapped in a huge snowstorm together and had no choice but to use “survival 101” to survive… He pressured her into doing the dirty. When she told him she was with child, he wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. He told everyone she was a harlot and had practically forced herself on him to save his reputation. Since he was the mayor’s son and well liked while she was just a simple huntress who kept to herself… everyone believed him.

Q. Why does reader have these dreams?

A. They’re warnings. Something or someone is trying to tell her of the dangerous future that lays before her.

Q. Is this a platonic story or a romantic one?

A. Um… I actually don’t know. The story has shifted between the two a few times since its creation. Romance is a bit weird in this context as reader is the mother of this era’s hero but there is absolutely no blood relation to any of the other heroes (bombastic side eye to Time and Twilight.) so it is still possible. However, the romance route the story takes is mostly with Warriors whenever it does shift that way. I’m not sure why, but that’s just how it flows.

That’s it! At least for now. Any thoughts or comments? Anything you’d like to add? Any ideas you’d like to share?I really adore your writing so anything you have to say would be greatly welcomed!!! Any and all feedback is appreciated. 😊

OOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!!

CONSIDER ME HYPED!!!

I feel like I should have a lot to say but there's so much potential that I'm sure what's the direction you want to take it.

I know that it's not necessarily said in the Zelda universe, but what if Reader was a descendant of Sky and related to the "royal family". Not the mayor's family. Reader can easily be from a kingdom outside of Hyrule. But like a long lost cousin twice removed or something to the Queen of Hyrule. That way the dreams would be less like warning and more on the prophetic dream thing.

Whether Sky delves into this, of it becomes tied into Reader's relationship with the official royal family of Family can be talked about later.

I also wanted to say that romance isn't inherently a bad thing to add. If it's leaning towards Warrior whenever it comes into the mix, then I say lean into it. Granted, I'm a sucker for romance and I know it's not needed for a good story. But if the dynamic between the character lends itself naturally to it, then let the characters lead. :)

I would give more notes but I would need to know more with where you're going with it. (Thank you for the Q and A at the end. I loved it. It helped a lot. XD)

[opioidenjoyer]

SUBSTANCES IVE TAKEN

(RANKED) 🏴‍☠️❗️

Marijuana: 10/10 (No withdrawals, no comedown, high leads to sleep, gateway drug, multiple ways to consume)

Cocaine: 5/10 (Cant eat, cant sleep, super human ability for 10mins, never enough)

Oxy/hydrocodone: 9.5/10 (i would sell my soul to nod forever, agonizing withdraws, tolerance fast, pain receptors shut off)

MDMA/Ecstasy/Molly: 8/10 (easily best party drug, solo rolling is mid, serotonin levels ruined for days)

LSD/Acid: 6.5/10 (amazing visuals, brain full reset, 8-12 hour high is way too long, dopamine drainer, research chemicals NBomes are trash, burnt out easily, could unlock underlying mental health problems)

Psilocybin/Shrooms: 8/10 (best psychedelic, upsets stomach because of fungus, bad trips more likely at higher dosages, micro-dosing saved lives, naturally produced, can be done with every day life)

Benzodiazepines: 7.5/10 (too many chemical derivatives, potential life ruiner, fatal withdraws, anxiety nonexistent, thief abilities heightened, memory loss)

Robitussin, Coricidin, Dextromethorphan: 6.5/10 (instant dissociative, if mixed with Guaifenesin its a bad time, steal these from supermarkets)

Nitrous Oxide: 6.5/10 ("fill up my balloon again stop playing")

Air/Gas/Whippet Duster Inhalant: 2.5/10 (added chemicals make usage ALMOST impossible to inhale, taste like battery acid for 10 second high, brain cell damage, stay away)

Benadryl/Diphenhydramine: 4/10 (most irritable drug, feels like spiders crawling on your skin while high, shadow people, noise distortion, easy to get over the counter)

Methamphetamine: 4.5/10 (functional tweaking until you realize you are waiting for the pawn shop to open, can find this high in other drugs with less side effects, in 35% of most molly, overall bad reputation)

Fentanyl: 2/10 (highest level of nodding, waves of body heat, worst drug of all time, ruined the opioid game, kills almost all of its users, countless accidental overdoses, 10cents per pill, RIP real percs)

DMT/N,N-Dimethyltryptamine: 5.5/10 (breaking through spiritual barriers, out of body experiences, too powerful to be recreationally, trip sitter recommended)

Promethazine: 4/10 (does nothing when taken by itself, good when taken with other opioids, makes stomach feel better)

Lean/Codeine: 7/10 (2011-2021 best era to sip drank in, fun to pour up, easy to get at the time, euphoric body high, trend sippers, price inflation, weak opiate, too much sugar)

Tramadol: 6.5/10 (beginner nodderville, itching, weaker lame cousin to Oxycodone, still in the opioid family)

Adderall/Dextroamphetamine/amphetamine: 5/10 (Not fun when you actually have ADHD, recreational use does not make sense, highest level of functioning addict)

Morphine: 9/10 (instant trip to nodderville, good member of the opioid family, doctors are stingy with this)

Salvia: 3.5/10 (almost unexplainable high, dissociative, can find better effects in a psychedelic while smoking marijuana, very short high 1-5mins)

Heroin: still have not tried yet :(