#she fought that river the whole way

[wheel-of-time80]

I was rewatching wot and I can't help but imagine how Nynaeve's ceremony would have gone compared with Egwene...

Egwene:

Nynaeve:

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Opposites Attract

Astrid Deetz x Fem!Reader

Summary- You had been a psychic ever since you were a child, but recently you had been overwhelmed by how many spirits were contacting you, giving you no time to yourself anymore. Seeking out Lydia Deetz, you go to her home for advice.

Requested by @perfectartisanwerewolf

Warnings- Ghosts, probably some timeline issues, morbid facts, talking about the afterlife, more of my ghost facts (Tell me when you're getting sick of them)

When you met the Deetz family, it was several years after the whole "Ghost House" incident. They had always been kind to you and your family.

The ghosts in Winter River were more plentiful than most people knew. It happened to be a very quiet and uneventful town, but your life never had a dull moment here. You were constantly sought out after Lydia had moved. Now the deceased flocked to you for guidance.

Apparently, they described your psychic abilities as "A shining light in the never-ending darkness". Which would be flattering if they hadn't always been around you for every second of your day. Some spirits followed you to the grocery store, to school, and even sat at your desk while you were sleeping, waiting for you to awaken.

You wanted to help them; you really did. It was just that the only privacy you got now a days was when you excused yourself to use the facilities.

Recently there had been a death in the Deetz family, so Lydia had returned to town with her daughter to attend the funeral and help her stepmother, Deelia. It was like a saving grace to have someone else help with the spirits around the place.

Walking up the giant hill to their home with a stack of books in your hand was proving difficult, but you needed Lydia's help desperately. You waited patiently after knocking on their door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Lydia welcomed you into their home with a smile. After making your way to the couch and placing your books on the table, you took a quick look around the room. There were still many of Deelia's sculptures, most of them unsettling to say the very least.

Your attention shifted back to Lydia as she sat across from you. Talking about ghosts with anyone else might have been awkward, but not with her. She was almost like a second mother to you.

Even now as you sat in the house, you could sense spirits lingering just outside your line of sight.

"I agree, it can be overwhelming, you just need to learn how to set boundaries with them." She explained simply and you nodded.

"I thought I did, but I guess I could try and be sterner with them?"

Her smile grew and you both turned as you heard footsteps descending the staircase. Astrid was in the middle of putting on her sweater to leave the house when she stopped and stared at you, as if in a trance. You smiled and offered her a small wave, trying to be polite.

Your smile awakened something in Astrid. Like a light at the end of a tunnel. A breath of fresh air, or a missing puzzle piece to finally complete a part of herself that had been missing for years. The world faded as all she could focus on was you. She snapped out of it with a cough, finally making her way to stand in the living room with you both.

Lydia introduced you and in turn introduced her daughter, Astrid. It took a moment for her to regain her composure before she muttered an almost completely quiet "Hi."

On the inside, her heart pounded against her chest, but she fought to remain uninterested in anything that involved her mother. Especially now that it seemed like a complete stranger could easily occupy her mother's attention without even trying. It was frustrating.

It was an odd experience, how you made her heart pound. She wasn't sure if it was from jealousy or something more, so she opted to ignore it and continue her journey out the door.

A frown grazed your lips, confused by her behavior before you shifted back to continue your conversation from before. Lydia spoke up first. "Astrid can't see ghosts like we can. The living ignore the strange and unusual."

That didn't seem to brighten up your mood even in the slightest.

"You're saying Mrs. bright eyes can also supposedly see ghosts? Great, here I thought she seemed normal. Is there anyone normal in this town?" Astrid scrunched her nose and picked at her food as she sat at the kitchen table.

"Whatever makes us more money, maybe she could be on your show Lydia!" Deelia smiled as she continued eating, only half paying attention to their conversation.

"Maybe you would be more interested if you talked to her about it, Astrid. It could be good for you to have some friends in this town." Lydia suggested, trying to stray away from yet another argument with her daughter.

"Ghosts are everywhere, you may even see one without even realizing it. Have you ever seen someone walking on the side of the street, but when you look back they're gone?" You smiled; your books open in front of you as you spoke enthusiastically to Astrid.

You sat in her room, a stark contrast from your own. While you liked the paranormal and macabre, her room seemed more... gloomy.

Did you know how much light you radiated? Or the shimmer that appeared in your gorgeous eyes whenever you spoke about this mumbo jumbo? Astrid didn't care for spirits or the paranormal. She believed it was all fake, but the way you spoke to her and the way you looked, she swore she would follow you anywhere.

She simply nodded, trying to snap out of that trance you put her in. Sometimes she believed you must've been a witch instead of a psychic, because how had you possibly gained so much power over her cold heart?

"Are there any here now? You know, ghosts?" her eyebrow raised curiously, just thinking of an excuse for you to speak more.

"I know there is one here, but I haven't been able to place it. It's a male energy."

"Do you use candles or sprinkle some paprika on stuff for rituals?"

Her enthusiasm was great, if not a bit misplaced and incorrect. Your smile widened as you laughed, a freeing sound.

"I've been talking forever, how about you tell me something you're interested in? I know you don't care about this stuff"

Astrid froze, fearing that you caught her. She cleared her throat and blushed softly, looking away as she wracked her brain for anything interesting to say. "Did you know that Mount Everest has a certain area called 'Rainbow Valley' because of all the multicolored jackets and climbing gear that's still attached to the mummified corpses of those who failed to get to the top and froze to death?"

Your head tilted and silence loomed between you both before she spoke again.

"A cult leader named Jim Jones poisoned 918 people by forcing them to drink Kool-Aid mixed with cyanide, chloral hydrate, valium and Phenergan. It was considered one of the largest intentional losses of life since 9/11." She continued talking, trying her best to fill the silence.

Your giggles made her stop digging a deeper hole for herself. You looked amused and not terrified in the least. "Why Kool-Aid?"

"Probably because it was the cheapest" Astrid smiled wide at you, happy that you didn't see her as some sort of creep.

The next morning, Astrid was determined to gain more information about spirits, wanting another chance to spend time with you. She even went as far as to ask her mother for help, which she would deny until the end of her days.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as painful as she thought it would be. It was actually nice to have a common interest. Or so Lydia thought at least. Meanwhile she was interested in you, and not in fact her mother's psychic abilities.

By the time you showed up at her house, she opened the door to you and smiled softly, gesturing for you to come inside. She soon regretted that action as if you would think she was a dork for gesturing like a ringleader in some cheesy circus movie.

You didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil, simply enjoying the fact that she invited you back, saying she had something to share with you.

Sitting on her bed with your legs crossed, you leaned your head in your hand as you gave her your full attention. Everything you did seemed to light a spark in her chest.

"I learned some stuff about ghosts and wanted to run it by you. Maybe I could add it in with my history facts" Astrid spoke with a little more enthusiasm, as if excited to share with you.

She took a deep breath as she tried remembering all of the things her mother had previously told her. "Is it true that there are different types of ghosts? And that they're not all humans?"

You nod your head and sit up a little straighter. "Yes. There are many different classifications of ghosts, including non-human ghosts that never had a soul. Those may include poltergeists, which are simply manifestations of negative energy in a certain space. Thats why you can't communicate intelligently with a poltergeist, because they have no soul or sense of being. They're just energy."

That actually caught her attention, maybe the paranormal wasn't as fake as she thought it was. How could someone possibly come up with a lie that detailed in such a short amount of time? She sat beside you and resisted the urge to kiss you right there and then. Never in her life has she been attracted to someone simply because of their interests and passion when speaking about them.

"Will you go uh... ghost hunting with me at Dracula's castle this summer? I was planning on going there alone after... after my dad passed away. But I'd like you there."

You smiled brightly and wrapped your arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "I would love to"

Bonus:

Lydia stood a careful distance away from Astrid's bedroom door. She wanted to give her daughter some privacy, but she was overjoyed to see the smile return to Astrid's face. The one that had been lost since her father.

She argued that it was to see what about you made her so happy. As she leaned in closer, she heard a gruff voice behind her, making her jump.

"Thats our daughter alright" He spoke, munching on a bucket of popcorn. He leaned against the wall smugly, watching Lydia with a smirk.

Her smile vanished as she stared him down. "Beetl-" She began to utter before he waved his hand dismissively.

"Alright, alright. Your Kid" He huffed out an annoyed sigh before vanishing.

A/N- I finally finished writing this one and I hope that it's to your liking! I tried my best. Usually, I base the reader off of myself to make writing it easier but I tried to switch it up a bit this time.

Thank you all for your patience with me writing this, and I'm sorry for the delay.

Please send in more requests! Next I will be working on a lost boys fic and the second part to the tom riddle series

Credits-

Book Divider- @firefly-graphics

Green swirl divider- @anitalenia

---

Taglist: @mirage018

[thelov3lybookworm]

Tolerate It (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Everyting will be okay.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: shes a lil small, but shes here hehe

(also creds to @mybestfriendmademe for giving me the idea for the part about fights and silence 🥹😚)

enjoy!

Azriel had never been given the love a child should have received, and maybe that was the reason he thought himself undeserving of it.

Maybe it was his ugly hands and the way he knew that those hands would taint the beautiful, pure skin of his mate.

Whatever it was, he knew he had fucked up when he returned home to find the house empty, the usual warmth and happy aura that he had gotten used to being gone, the house now back to the desolate place it had been before she came along to light it up.

Azriel had realised how much of an ass he'd been to his mate the moment he left, and then decided that he would apologise and explain his behaviour when he returned home that night.

But then the house was empty, and the whole place void of the things that made him want to call it home, so Azriel had simply sighed, knowing he was at fault as he turned and flew to the river house.

Of course, his sister in law had glared holes into his back the entire time he had been begging Rhys to disclose Y/n's location, and even Rhys looked disgusted with his brother.

Defeated, Azriel knew she would not be found unless she wanted to be, so he decided to return and wait it out.

Just before he left the River house, he ordered his shadows to go search the whole of Velaris for Y/n.

"Leave her alone. Let her think this through. You fucked up brother, now let her decide if she wants to forgive you."

Azriel ignored Rhysand, taking off towards the home he used to share with her, now nothing but four walls and a roof to him.

He knew he fucked up, he didn't need anyone to tell him that.

But still, no one left him be. No one let him wallow in his self hatred and pity.

They made it worse by fucking caring for him.

Cassian would visit Azriel, yell and fight, but then leave him food to eat because Azriel was so busy beating himself up over his actions that he had forgotten to eat anything.

Nesta would visit, starting to clean around the house without a word, and when Azriel would try to stop her, she would just glare at him and say the same few words. She did not like untidiness. I'm doing it for her.

Rhys had also stopped sending Azriel on missions, so that didn't help in any way considering Azriel had nothing to occupy his time with, ensuring him feeling guilty all the damn time.

Her silence made him curse himself more. Being an Illyrian, he was used to fights and arguments, but he wasn't used to being ignored. You either fought it out, or you killed in the camps. There was no other choice.

The quiet was too loud for Azriel, to the point he was convinced he was going mad.

It had been almost a week of him either staring up at his ceiling, wanting to just die, or bawling his eyes out in the bathtub, because then no one would see the tears that escaped his eyes.

Once again, Azriel could not help but think of how if he had just opened up to Y/n, let himself be vulnerable, cried in front of her as he told her of everything he had been through, he wouldn't have had to wipe his tears by himself.

Because then she would have wiped his tears for him, held him through the worst of nights, and kissed his sadness away.

But alas, he just had to continue being his thick skulled bastard self.

As he now stared at the half eaten apple Feyre had shoved into his hand when she stopped by his house on her way to the art studio, his heart stopped.

No. Some of us must stay back with him.

It doesn't matter. He will cry anyway. We must go to her.

She doesn't need all of us right now.

His head whipped to where a couple of his shadows hovered nearby, his eyes wide, breath hitched in his throat.

The apple tumbled from his slack grip.

"What..."

The shadows froze, then frantically hurried away, slipping through the space under the door, the couch, the window.

And Azriel could do nothing but sit back, a broken breath escaping him at the realisation that the shadows had known all along where she had been, but had kept the knowledge from him.

They were, after all, their own being, not to be commanded but placated.

After long moments of silence, Azriel got up from the couch and slid to his knees, his head hung low in defeat.

Please, he begged.

Please.

A startled gasp jolted Azriel from the trance he'd been in, and he raised his head to find himself staring into the eyes of his beloved, the eyes he had tried so hard not to become familiar with in case she saw the truth one day, realising he did not deserve her.

Azriel stared, and stared.

And continued staring until she spoke up.

"Az- what are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked, feeling something- presumably a tear- escape his eye as he glanced around. "I... I don't-"

His shadows hissed at him before he could continue, and he paused.

"I wanted to apologise."

Her eyes, that were hard until now, softened. Whether it was at the sound of his broken voice, the state of his being, or the tears streaming down his face without him realising, he didn't know.

And he didn't care as he took in her form, clad in an oversized shirt- his shirt- and nothing else, her hair unbound and messy, the soft skin of her legs on full display for him.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, where tears now accumulated.

"Oh Az." She mumbled, stepping forward towards his kneeling, hunched form.

"Forgive me my love. I love you, I love you so so much, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Azriel's chest heaved as he reached his hands out, trying to grab at Y/n's shirt, but she walked forward without any prompting. Mirroring his position, she knelt in front of him, tugging him into her chest as his hands scrambled to hold her back, panicked as if she was going to vanish any moment.

It was getting harder to take a breath, tears constantly streaming down his face, any and all air he could take into his lungs escaping in startling gasps, emptying his body, lightening his head-

"Shh, take a deep breath with me."

It was nearly impossible, but he tried. Opening and closing his mouth, trying to get his lungs to work, expanding his chest voluntarily in hopes it would help.

When that didn't work, he shoved his head into the stretch of skin connecting her neck to her collarbone, letting himself drown in the unique scent of his mate.

Finally, his lungs started working again, if only to have her scent dominate all his other senses.

"It's okay, you're okay." She was still mumbling, her body so warm and welcoming as she remained wrapped around him, comforting his cold self.

"It's not." He whispered back, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm-"

"Sorry, I know." She rubbed her hand down his back. "And I am sorry too, for leaving instead of talking it out. But now, I'm ready. I'm sure we can work things out, right?"

He nodded frantically, pulling back to show her how sincere he was being, his head tilted back to look her in the eye. She smiled at him softly, brushing his hair back from his face, quiet understanding on her face.

"It will all be okay."

It will be.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend @stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh @st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium @fandomarchiveilyd

Tolerate it taglist: @anuttellaa @willowpains @blackgirlmagicforever @isa1b2h3 @helloevilmuffins @bunnyredgirl @hellsenthero @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @fxckmiup @honeybee54321 @nahimgoodmom @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @sweetcarolina-24 @misskennygirl @macel625 @justyouraveragekleemain @its-sam-allgood

[piarelei]

Scars

Once again, needed to write something low commitment. Can be seen as a Bullseye sequel. All you need to know is that Jake's dad knows about the Gay Thing, it's Hangster established relationship and that's it.

When he was 14 years old, Jake jumped the fence to follow after his big brothers and scratched his hip badly enough against a nail that he had to get stitches for it. His brothers told this story for every single friend that Jake brought home. Bradley, coming over on false pretense of needing to get away from California during leave, is no exception. 

Jake had hoped that Bradley would fit right in, home turf close enough to a locker room that it would still feel like familiar ground, but he didn’t expect how much. Jake, the ugly (queer) duckling, consequently felt a bit out of touch with his own family. 

“And then,” continued Dave over his siblings’ laughter, “he hid in his emo hoodie the whole way home, like we wouldn’t know he was crying if we couldn’t see it.” 

“Jake? Emo?” Bradley asked, scrunching up his nose. 

Jenny cackled. “Oh yeah! Big emo phase for this one.” 

“Come on, it was barely a few months!” Jake protested. He knew better than to deny it completely. 

“Please,” Sam said, punching Jake in the shoulder. “I spent several summers home from college trying to drown out your music. A few months, my ass!”

“Language,” their father corrected tiredly, watching over the chaos without participating. 

Bradley looked unfortunately delighted by the idea. “Does Javy know?” 

Jake made a face. “Yes, but I have enough blackmail on his ass that it’s never getting out.” 

“Language,” their father tried again, sighing. 

“Well, the emo phase stopped soon after Sophie Rivers joined bible study, didn’t it?” Dave pushed on, tongue in cheek. 

Jake shared a look with his father, who held his gaze with his usual gravitas. 

Jake cleared his throat. “Right, about that…”

“Who wants something?” asked their mother, coming from the kitchen with oven mitts on and something delicious between her hands. 

The clamor of yeses drew the moment away from Jake. He sighed forcefully and reached for a plate of peach cobbler. There would be other times. 

#

His mother, having an uncharacteristically full house, had profusely apologized to Bradley when she had announced that they would have to share Jake’s room. Jake had tried not to combust with maniacal laughter at the news. 

She would get a mattress ready on Jake’s floor, of course. Of course. 

The moment she had been gone, Jake had locked the door and pushed Bradley on his bed, feeling filthy with lust, but unable to stop the wicked desire of having his boyfriend in his childhood bed. It had been a short, but incredible bout of cardio. By the time his brothers had come back carrying a mattress and linens, they were red-cheeked but free of sin. 

At night, curled together despite the heat, Bradley traced the scar on Jake’s hip. 

“You told me you got this bull-riding,” Bradley said, words like a kiss on Jake’s collarbone. 

Jake hummed. “Well. I was following them to a rodeo.”

Bradley laughed. “There’s exaggerating and there’s that.” 

“Well, I couldn’t let you win with all your cool scars stories.”

Bradley snorted. “My scars don’t make me cool. They make me scared of dogs.” 

Jake blindly found Bradley’s head and patted his hair back, soothingly. “We’ll adopt a cat, then. Call him Whiskers.”

“Whisky, for short.” 

“Atta boy.”

Jake was falling asleep when Bradley spoke again. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to come out earlier.” 

Jake fought Morpheus to blink back into the darkness of the room. He sighed. “Well. You could still kiss me at breakfast.” 

Bradley snorted. “Sure, I’ve made bigger sacrifices. If that’s what it takes.” 

“This might kill my mother, actually.” 

Bradley’s arms tightened around Jake. “No reason. She loves you.” 

Jake snuffled Bradley’s hair, breathing in the comforting smell of his shampoo. “You don’t know the kind of stuff they say at church here.” 

“Your dad had no issue.” 

“My dad knows better than to decide things for me. He was never for the whole Navy thing, but he trusts my decisions… My mom, on the other hand, she wants to write the entire story.” 

Bradley caressed his back, his broad palm suffusing comfort. “Sorry.”

Jake remembered with a sudden sense of shame that Bradley still mourned the loss of gus parents. “God, who the fuck am I complaining to. This is stupid, forget it.” 

“No… Sometimes, I think it’s easier to not have any parents. Not often, but… I’ll never know, yeah? I’ll never know so I might as well.”

Jake hummed, shifting impossibly closer. “But you have Mav now, yeah?” 

Bradley smiled in the dark. Jake couldn’t see it but he knew. 

“Mav invented bisexuality. He has no opinion on us dating over than he’s grossed out by his kid having sex.” 

“Gross. Now I’m thinking about Mav having sex.”

“Please, this is nothing compared to my trauma. He gave me the Talk. Twice, when he found me kissing a basketball teammate.” 

“Fuck me, that’s something.” 

“Yeah. Well, it was useful, but it put me off any sort of sex for months.” 

Jake chuckled. “Well, you don’t seem scarred.” 

Bradley’s hands pulled Jake closer for a kiss. “Well, you know. Some things are just too good to resist.”

Hope you liked it, I needed to create something. Show some love with a reblog!

[escespace]

Merthur prompt

Or rather, a long concept that has been going around in my head since I saw a tiktok but that I don't have the energy or time to write:

BUT LISTEN TO ME, I HAVE NOT FOUND ANYTHING LIKE THAT:

The king who seeks his warlock, the warlock who seeks his king. Two halves trying to become a whole again through two parallel growth journeys and a convergence between duty and hope.

So...

Merlin pretends to be heading for Camelot but he definitely isn't going there. I mean, IT'S THE KINGDOM KNOWN FOR ROAST BUNNY ON FIRE SEASONED WITH SORCERERS (he loved his mother but is that woman out of her mind?!)... However, he understands why she came up with the idea and agrees that his magical outbursts are becoming harder to conceal, so he wants to seek help (other than that of an ex-sorcerer who remains under the command of the chief butcher of his kind). He wants to find druids but he knows it will be a difficult journey, druids never stay in one place long enough and they distrust outsiders. Either way, he's already made up his mind and he never backs down when he does that.

Meanwhile Arthur's taking Morris to Gaius because the idiot moved at the last minute while he was practicing throwing knives.And it's totally his fault and not Arthur's. How dare him doubt the ability of his prince? Ha! As if Arthur could fail.

He knows he's going to be late for the banquet and his father will look at him in that way he does and well, it better not be that late, right? So he takes other routes and somehow ends up near where that magnificent entertainment is staying, that Morgana kept talking about but that he didn't listen to at all...

He hears the commotion in one of the rooms and ends up stopping a crime and finds evidence of a possible assassination attempt on the royal family. More or less, Arthur stops the whole fiasco with Lady Helen before it happens.

While they take her to the dungeons to burn her the next morning, she growls, attacks and curses the Pendragon ancestors... Above all, that night Arthur does not stop listening to her again and again claiming for the life of her son, burned that same morning :

«It wasn't Him, it was my magic, it wasn't Him »

And for the first time in his life Arthur asked himself a question related to magic...

Weeks go by and for Merlin things may not be going the way he thought they would. He has been living on just one meal a day and sometimes manages to pick up work in passing villages in exchange for lodging for a couple of nights; but mostly he tries to stay in the woods. It's not that he know much about living off the wild, but He has been through tough times before, not big deal, and for some reason there's something very comforting about being constantly surrounded by nature too.

Almost any discomfort would be acceptable if it weren't for the freaking unicorn that never stops following him. And aren't they supposed to be a sign of good fortune or something? Then why has it been the cause of all his calamities so far? First the overestimated horse tore one of his shirts while dragging him across the grass, and it's not like he's in a position to lack of anything without having money and with the cold nights he usually faces. Then the animal he fought with him until push him into a river whose watercourse rolled him around like a lady's garment during the wash. The last encounter ended when I lead Merlin towards some bandits Merlin did what he could. He knocked most of them down, causing branches to fall on them and their feet to get caught in roots. But one managed to get close enough to knock him until leaving him confounded, then the others who were not so bruised joined in the beating and Merlin could do nothing.

Intense emotions, deep reflections on his identity and self-worth until he is finally saved by an blonde woman. The lady said at most three words and all the bandits fell asleep.

An exchange of words that I can't come up with but ends with the woman telling him that she didn't do it for free, that he should pay with her neckerchief. Merlin doesn't understand but he's hurt and tired so he no protest

(Pause to say that in defense of the unicorn, he was just looking to steer Merlin in the direction of his destiny coughcoughArthurcoughcough, and Merlin didn't make it easy for him)

Days later the thing with Valiant and nobody suspects anything, nobody is there to save the ass of our favorite brat. But a Old lady follows him around like a duck all morning treating him like a adorable and helpful young man (much as a grandma style) until he bends to accept a ☆favor☆, yes that one... You and I know where she got it, Arthur doesn't and he doesn't know how unique and special that little piece of cloth can be.

No one sees anything strange in this favor because the old woman gave it to him in a very public place and everyone assumes that the prince is just being chivalrous

But the scarf ends up being what protects Arthur from Valiant's shield just because I say so and the magic of fiction stories and Merlin and his neckerchiefs have a special connection so its essence or whatever is still there

The story would extend to the first encounters between Merlin and the druids, Merlin and his father (a meeting before time to give them their due quality time and badass moments). He having the opportunity to forge his own identity and an independent path. On the other hand, Arthur discovering aspects of magic on his own to create his own criteria and value system. HE COULD EVEN BE THE FIRST TO TALK TO THE GREAT DEAGON!!!!

Forget that, Arthur is definitely the first to talk to the great dragon and learn of the prophecy. And listening to how it sounds, without many details and as critical as only Kilgharrah can be, plus the fact that he is only told about a certain Emrys and not about if is a wizard or witch or sorcerer or him or her...he comes to the same conclusion as us: That Emrys is his other half, "SHE" IS HIS SOULMATE... Oh man when they meet...

[captain039]

PART 2 Big bear

Halsin x reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap,eventual smut, first times, feelings, tav insert, Angst

I changed this up so fast

Also I fucking lost Halsin because my dumb ass didn’t clear the shadow curse and I genuinely wanna cry

I still got my baby boy, but ugh😭

Previous part <-

Sleep didn’t come to you though, you were tossing and turning, trying to be quiet for your companions, but gave up. You sighed an ache in your body, a familiar ache. You grabbed your pack and headed to the river and sat down by the bank. Your mind was a little hazy as you grabbed a small vile and drank it quickly. You made a disgusted face and coughed, your hand going over your mouth instantly and glancing back to your companions who slept. You sighed putting the empty file back, you had four left. You’d need to get more for the long journey ahead. Your mind cleared and the ache left, a small potion brewed by an old woman you found willing to get rid of your curse of a rank. You smelt like nothing, nobody knew what you were and didn’t bother you, just how you wanted it. You shuddered a bit rubbing your hands over your arms, you should’ve brought a blanket. You sighed hugging your knees instead as you stared at the lake.

“You’ll catch a cold out here” you jumped almost screaming at the sound of the alphas voice behind you. Halsin chuckled lightly laying a blanket around your shoulders and sitting by you. You thanked him quietly tugging the blanket closer.

“What keeps you awake this night?” He asked and you shrugged putting your pack at your side, away from his view.

“Can’t sleep” you said.

“More aches and pain?” He asked worried and your heart clenched.

“No, I’m alright” you said giving him a small smile and he nodded.

“It’s not my business, but when I healed you the other day-“ he stalked and you froze dreading his next words.

“It is not my business, apologies” he said and you relaxed a little.

“What’s going on over here?” You glanced to Astarion who came to sit on your other side.

“Our friend can’t sleep” Halsin said as Astarion looked to you.

“Really? I can think of ways to get you to sleep” he grinned, fangs on display and you slapped his arm.

“I will rip your fangs out” you fought and he blinked in surprise at your threat before chuckling.

“Cheeky pup, I’d bite your fingers off before that happened” he gave you a playful chomp of his teeth and you smiled.

“What about you bear?” Astarion peered to Halsin.

“I would assume you’d need your beauty sleep big time, do you hibernate?” Astarion quizzed and you snorted quietly shaking your head and Halsin just smiled.

“No, Astarion I don’t” the alpha chuckled.

“Hm, pity, I could’ve used a distraction to get a taste of you” you flushed at his words the vampire had no shame.

“You’re embarrassing the little one” Halsin scolded softly with a smile and Astarion smirked at you like he knew something.

“I’m sure she’s heard it all” Astarion said giving suggestions for you to talk.

“No” you said huffing and he pouted.

“Honestly, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re a virgin” Astarion moved his gaze to the river and your whole body tensed. Your mind flashed between images and you quickly stood to find the safety of your tent.

Halsin frowned as you got up and left quickly after Astarions comment. He growled at the pale elf who shrugged and left. Halsin huffed and looked to the pack you left seeing an empty vile peeking out. He frowned curiosity getting him as he grabbed it and took a small sniff of the contents. His nose scrunched up and his frown hardened. They were suppressors, horrible medical things to stop ones true nature, it had its affects, aches and pains, nausea, haziness of missing a dose, they were an addiction. what had happened to you? He picked up the pack and left it outside your tent before heading back to his.

You avoided Halsin and Astarion for a while. You were just trying to feel normal again. Your body had taken a toll on something, whether it was the fighting or mental capacity some things took, your body felt it. Gods you felt heavier, weaker, your muscles ached, but you forced through it. At the end of a hard fight though you ended up straggling back, you had puked and groaned as you sat down against a cold wall away from blood. You’d popped an extra suppressor a few days ago thinking it was your omeganess weighing you down. You sensed someone coming though and quickly stood seeming like you were looking for supplies. Halsin appeared a worried look in his eyes before he saw you.

“Are you alight?” He called and you nodded smiling falsely. You picked up some gold from the goblins on the ground as he stopped by you.

Halsin sensed your pain, whatever type it was, you were slower, reactions not on point, you’d take hit after hit, even with Shadowhearts quick healing you looked weighed down. His beast stirred at the thought as did his other nature, he could smell blood and sick? Had you been sick. His nose scrunched lightly as you continued gathering what you could from this small goblin outpost. Your body was tense, you took time to kneel and get up, your brows going together slightly as you went. You looked paler too, were you still hurt?

Halsin just stood there, a light scrunch in his nose, maybe it was all the blood. You tried to ignore the way he just stood there like he was trying to process something a little harshly.

“Hey?” You walked up to him and waved a hand in front of his face. He frowned at your hand before looking to you.

“Come on” you cocked your head going to follow the others, ignoring how your legs felt like dead weight. The group had set up camp nearby, all ready to lie down for the day. Gale had overtaken the cooking again, he disliked anyone melding with his cooking. Nobody took it from him though, he was an excellent cook. You however wanted a warm bath and wine, gods you felt worse than this morning. You left camp for some privacy saying you needed the bathroom. You took your small pack with you and sat down against a big tree. You closed your eyes resting your head back against the bark. You held the pack on your lap debating if you should truely take another suppressant. You grabbed one and fiddled with it between your fingers, surely it’d take the edge off?

“Don’t!” You jumped at the sound of a voice and saw Halsin coming towards you. You quickly hid the vile, but it was too late he’d already seen it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, but those viles are making you worse” he said worry in his voice.

“Worse? I feel worse off them!” You snapped without reason seeing the hurt across his features as he sat down in front of you, legs crossed.

“You don’t know me or my story, so don’t assume you know what makes me feel worse” why were you feeling so hostile? to this man, this alpha whose kind eyes and soft words never failed anyone. You went to take it out of spite, but he stopped you.

“Please, just listen” he begged and your heart clenched, you were cruel to him. You faltered, tears in your eyes as you shoved it back in your pack and got up to leave, the big alpha calling your name.

“Listen to me for one moment” he grabbed your wrist and you snatched it away from him wiping tears down your face.

“Just go away!” You huffed wiping your eyes going to run again.

“Omega!” He said and your whole body tensed, an unnatural feeling of disgust filling your body. He froze, eyes wide as you began to shake. You went back to camp quickly and quietly, you began to pack your things mind blank and body tense.

“Y/n?” You heard Tav asked as you flinched from them. Your mind switched back on and you stared confused hands shaking.

“Sorry-“ they said frowning before kneeling down.

“Are you alright?” They asked and you nodded nervously.

“What happened? You’re shaking?” Their eyes went to your hands.

“It was my fault” you looked to the bear a little ways away.

“I pressed a button I shouldn’t have” his voice was guilty and pained.

“I must leave, she will stay, I will head my own way” he nodded and your heart dropped.

“Halsin?” Tav asked standing up, but the Druid had already left.

“Karlach?” Tav called the teifling perking up before seeing the situation.

“I got ya” Karlach said coming over and sitting down with you.

“What’s happening?” She asked eyes worried as you watched Tav walk away.

“I don’t-“ you mumbled brain in a mess.

“Hey it’s alright, we’ll just sit here and take a breath yeah?” She smiled warmly and all you could do was nod.

Next part ->

[yuri-is-online]

you said that yutu and his friends have fought the heartslabyul boys in the bad timeline before, and it got the gears of my head turning. are they aware that their yutu is their kid? we know that ob! trey loved toying with his kids. even if they're not themselves anymore, it's interesting to know what their first reaction would be when this/these random kid/s (who looks a little TOO CLOSE to their long lost pregnant s/o or weirdly enough them in some cases) gets within their vicinity. can they even connect the dots since they’re phantoms now? do they seethe at this brat who masquerades as a memory of the past? (i can see ob! deuce getting extremely violent since his yutu looks like yuu, especially since i headcanon him acting as his delinquent self but 100x) Or do they just somehow know and not give af at all lmao.

How aware they are depends on 1) whether or not they died before of after the phantom possessed them and 2) who exactly killed them. This doesn't mean they act like themselves though, what I was trying to get across in Rook's pt. 2 is that he knows Roland is someone important, and might even be aware that this is his child, but the finer details are lost on him. He won't kill him outright, but if he starts using magic or if he were to try and kill him then the Hunter would kill him without much hesitation. What's left of Rook's soul would be distraught, his panic would likely influence the Hunter to take the boy's corpse to the Fairest Queen so she could "fix" him. And he wouldn't notice any difference between the two Rolands, if anything he might be relived that his son was no longer "sick." Now as for the specifics of the Heartslabyul boys:

Riddle is a wildly violent phantom. He is actively looking to enforce the Queen's law and take out his own pain on anything that looks wrong or moves. He is so caught up in his own anger, that he doesn't think Yutu is real. He thinks he is a hallucination mocking him for thinking he ever could have been happy, that you ever loved him or wanted to build a family in such a broken world. The real Yutu can't come home now, he hasn't made things perfect for him yet.

We have already talked about Trey, and I don't really want to pull back the curtain too much but (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) The hatter is very independent. He is one of maybe two phantoms who have traveled outside of their domain but what the Phantom does and what Trey thinks he is doing are two very different things. When Trey leaves the Queendom he thinks he is going on vacation, when really he is hunting for more victims. As for his children, what is left of him genuinely thinks he is playing with them, and if one of them dies well then they just need to be taken home and put to sleep. As time goes on, the more he watches over them and tries his best to take care of them... then he might start to realize something is wrong. He gets a lot less intelligent and a lot more violent after that.

Cater's unique magic allows him to sit back and relax while his clones do most of the work for him, so actually seeing him is very rare. He spends most of his time in a state that looks like he's sleeping, only ever really waking up to do much of anything when Riddle forces him to. The clones don't recognize Yutu at all, and treat him in much the same way they do everyone else; they tend to be very annoying to fight and narrate how bad you are running for your life in very mocking tones. Actual Cater is much different; he's slow, deliberate in his movements and surrounded by a river of polluted water with a look that suggests he's tired. Maybe he is, he's been splitting off pieces of himself to trap you here and can't be whole anymore. He doesn't recognize Yutu until he finally gets in the killing blow, the only thing he has the energy left to do by then is smile.

Ace and Deuce are typically seen together. They're very similar to their duo magic line, where Deuce charges ahead and Ace laments that Deuce has lost it again, but there is a strange sort of desperation to a lot of their actions. Even if Yutu isn't their child, they recognize him sort of, they have been looking for you for a long time now and are very upset that someone is trying to use this against them.

For Ace, this manifests in him mocking whoever he thinks sent Yutu. He can't look the kid in the eye, if he is forced to think about what happened to you and your child any semblance of intelligence his phantom has leaves. Not even Riddle can control him when he thinks about how that makes him feel. He wants to kill Yutu, remove anything reminding him of what happened from the world at all. But as soon as he looks at him he loses most of his nerve. He's perfect... are you here too? Do you see what Ace is being forced to do to him? He was hoping he would look more like you...

Deuce's phantom refuses to think of Yutu as real. He is similar to Riddle in that he thinks the similarities he notices are just his imagination. It makes him violent, but unlike Ace he has no real problem looking Yutu in the eye. He makes no secret that he is looking to crush Yutu like a bug, how dare he pretend to be someone who has been dead and buried for years now? How dare he mock his grief? He wants nothing more than for you and your child to be here with him, but you aren't and that's just something he needs to accept. It's his fault you aren't here, he sees his current state as fitting punishment for that.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

hi! Im not sure if you have art requests open, or even have any! If you don’t then feel free to ignore this!

I just wanted to request a sanegiyuu comic/artpeice!

Since yk how giyuu can’t swim? Well what about sanemi helping him? Going in deep water where they can stand but sanemi is holding giyuu while he tries to swim!

Ah, but then again if you don’t wish to draw, i want to ask if you can write it? Its totally okay if you can’t!

Have a nice day! <3

im sosorry this took so longg 😭 i decided to write smth+a drawing bc im bad at comics lmfao BUT THEN I GOT STUCK IN AN ARTBLOCK HALFWAY THROUGH IM SORRY (art is at the end !)

Despite being the Water Hashira, Giyuu, in fact, did not know how to swim. He never considered it an important asset, given that demons mostly fought on land anyway. But when Mitsuri reported, an embarrassed flush painting her face, that she had fallen backwards into the ocean on one occasion during a fight, he decided that he might need to learn. He didn’t really know who did know how to swim, given that this wasn’t exactly a subject that came by as it wanted, so he wavered on the decision a bit. He wasn’t shameless. He felt that he would feel humiliated if he asked for help for this one thing—after all, what Water Hashira didn’t know how to swim?? (Especially with his training having consisted with being thrown into waterfalls more often than not). In the end, however, he went to his boyfriend, Sanemi. He supposed embarrassment was a small price to pay if he avoided drowning.

Sanemi agreed to help him—after recovering from a short spasm of what he pretended wasn’t laughter. Really, nobody could blame Sanemi (except Giyuu, who was clueless) what with Giyuu coming up to him with a face set with determination asking, like a child, to be taught to swim. But he did take Giyuu to a river the next time they were both free. He had him strip down until a single cloth derailed the word ‘naked’ to be used as a term for Giyuu’s current state. Then he promptly pushed him into the biting water.

Giyuu, as used to being abruptly pushed into icy water without warning as he was, still yelped as he landed with a splash into one of the deeper parts of the river. He flailed for a moment before resurfacing, his whole body trembling and his arms lifting to wrap around himself.

“Sanemi!” he whined, his feet sinking into the muddy bottom. He moved much too slowly for his taste—held back by the current of the river—until he stood at the edge, glaring up at his boyfriend. “I said teach me how to swim, not kill me!”

“You don’t look dead,” Sanemi remarked, biting back a smirk.

“Are you going to help or not?” Giyuu asked, lips tugging into a frown as he struggle to prevent his teeth from chattering. Fuck, this was colder than he’d realized. Certainly didn’t help that near to all his skin was exposed.

“I will. Give me a moment,” Sanemi said. He stripped down then joined Giyuu into the river, easing down in a much calmer way than Giyuu had had the luxury to afford. After that, however, Sanemi was a lot kinder. Impatience bit at his voice but he held Giyuu steadily, instructing him to hold his breath and submerge his face underwater. It was, unfortunately, the first step.

Giyuu did as he was told, sucking in a deep breath, scrunching up his nose and shutting his eyes tightly before he plunged down into the icy water. The current of the river batted at his face and he struggled to ignore every instinct that screamed at him to come back up. Then, not used to this strange environment, he lost his focus and air instantly tried filling his lungs. He popped back up in a panic, coughing out the water that stung the back of his mouth and his throat, lungs aching. He had apparently inhaled some of the water as he tried satisfying the urging need for air.

Sanemi sighed, rubbing Giyuu’s back and letting him catch his breath. “I said hold your breath, you idiot. Just because you’re the Water Hashira doesn’t mean you should literally breathe water,” he said. Then, with a hint of concern in his voice he added, “Take a minute, though.“

Giyuu took his time, which was much longer than a minute. But when he did decide he had recovered from the apparently traumatizing experience, Sanemi made him do it again. And again. And again. Until he was as comfortable as he could get doing this. By then, they had been in the water for quite some time and Sanemi decided that they shouldn’t risk getting a cold and dragged Giyuu back out. When Giyuu protested, saying he had barely learnt anything, Sanemi threatened that he would personally go back in time and place Giyuu somewhere in the years following 1346. He also added that they could continue the next day, to which Giyuu backed down. He was cold, after all.

The following day, after getting a bit of sleep, they focused on floating. Giyuu was dubious to the fact that he would be able to float, deciding that his inability to swim would render him useless. Sanemi called him an idiot. As it turned out, Giyuu really was somewhat floatable. He found this practice considerably more calming than the last, bobbing up and down in the river, eyes closed and body just… floating along. It was more enjoyable, to say the least. But then Sanemi got bored of this, apparently, because when Giyuu looked around after fifteen minutes of just floating, Sanemi had disappeared. They continued the next day.

As Giyuu progressed, Sanemi started taking him to rivers with longer widths. Oceans were either too far or too dangerous for the moment, unless Giyuu wanted to idle around the shores and make sand castles. So they stuck to rivers.

Despite having felt that none of this would’ve been helpful before they had started, Giyuu found that swimming was actually quite relaxing (as long as Sanemi wasn’t pushing him into the water). He hadn’t lived near anywhere they could use for swimming as a child, so he hadn’t done more than splash about in big puddles. This was much different and he liked it, almost unbelieving of the fact that he had been doubtful this would be anything more than a useful asset might he come across trouble in battle.However, he still wasn’t quite good at it yet which, he supposed, was only normal, yet made him feel reproachful when their next sessions came along. Sanemi assured him that it would take time and not to rush it unless he planned on drowning. Which wasn’t quite so reassuring, but at least he hadn’t quit yet. Even with all his complaints about his inept student. Nevertheless, Giyuu wasn’t the only one having fun and he could see Sanemi looking more relaxed as he laughed (albeit he was laughing at Giyuu for having flailed about after getting scared by what had turned out to be an underwater plant).

(i couldn’t bother coloring fusjjfndn fuck)

[aakariiiii]

I kept tellin’ her to piss off ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

features: Draken x fem!reader

contains: Draken and reader are arguing in front of all toman members

a/n: yaaayayy my 3rd story since i’ve gotten back!!!! uts draken this time since iys been a while since i’ve written a fic ab him (mostly cuz last time was bad n i keep making him ooc n its so annoying ugh) but yeah i hope u guys enjoy this and i hope i see some requests in my inbox soon!!!!.!.!

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a fighting with my boyfriend during a Toman meeting. Never.

So why is it that we are currently yelling at each other, caught in a storm of emotions, while hundreds of eyes glare at both our faces?

“Well, you started it, Ken,” I argue, my body filled with heat as anger curled inside of my guts, burning. Or maybe it’s sadness, because the sight of her arm hooked around his stung, a pang of hurt I couldn’t shake.

“Haa? Are you fucking serious right now? I started it? Entertain me, dumbass,” he yells bewilderingly as a bulging vein appears out of his forehead.

“You know damn well what you did,” I whisper as my emotions threatened to spill over, but I fought to keep them at bay.

Whispers and piercing gazes felt like relentless spotlights, each adding weight to the already burdened air. To make it worse, being surrounded by an audience with menacing curiosity felt suffocating.

A chilly whisper of the passing wind delicately teased my senses, I found solace in its fleeting touch. I could feel Draken’s unbearable yet contradictingly reassuring presence creep up near me. A callous but soft grip embraced my wrist and pulled me out and away from the intrusive crowd, pumping a sense of relief within me. The hushed whispers and murmurs faded away into nothingness as Draken pulled me further away.

As if a thousand feathers took flight from my shoulders, carrying with them the burden that had settled there, I had felt much more comforted.

So why is it that unbidden tears raced down my cheeks, tracing an unexpected river of emotion, painting the canvas of my face with the silent tales my heart refused to voice. The tails that would carve unwanted scars from the truth unveiling within Draken’s awaited words.

Surely, he didn’t cheat right? is what I’d like to tell myself but his arm hooked around hers tells me otherwise.

A despondent sob escaped my mouth shattering the fragile silence as my feet came to a halt, and his grip released my pale wrist.

“Y/n, look at me,” he breathed, his voice tangled with a mess of melancholy.

I shake my head as my sobs continue to dash out of my mouth and my hands involuntarily start rubbing at the tears cascading down my cheeks.

But then I feel the touch of his benignly crude fingers tilt my chin so that his eyes can meet mine. His eyes, black as night, contrarily exuded a soothing presence, urging trust with their serene and comforting gaze.

“Y/n—I swear it’s ain’t what you think. I’d never cheat on you, dumbass. Promise—she was buggin’ me the whole day and I kept tellin’ her to piss off. I was so ready to punch the hell outta her tell I reminded myself that she’s a woman—I swear. I have never talked to her after that day, y/n. You gotta trust me, because both you ‘nd I know that I’m not the typa person to do that kinda shit,” he exhaled, arms falling down to my waist.

I didn’t know how to react, deep within me, I knew Draken would never do that to me. He’d never do that, so why did I not go and ask him about it instead of pulling the shitty move I did by going around his team members and sparking up unwanted conversations with them, while Draken was watching me. He must have felt awful.

I curse at myself as I bring my head to his solid, toned chest, wrapping my arms around his torso.

“I’m so—so sorry, Ken,” I sniffled.

“I do trust you—I just didn’t know how to react after I saw her arm wrapped around yours—I’m so sorry for trying to get back at you the way I did earlier,” I mumble in a muffled matter as my head is buried into his chest.

“I didn’t know you get easily jealous, babe” a teasing chuckle echoed through Draken’s body as he ruffled my hair.

“Oh, shut it! Of course I’d get jealous over you!”

“Of course I’d get jealous when I like you this much,” I mumble, flustered as heat spread into the apples of my cheek.

And with that, he broke our warm embrace to pull me into a kiss that blazed with the fervor of our shared affection, each touch a spark igniting an inferno of love between us.

“I’m joking, babe. I love you so much” he said while pulling away.

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[kankuroplease]

could you do an Hc of Sena please, he's the only one left 😆 I would like to understand why he would have preferred to be the only child and why he dares to hit little Mika 😫 I don't forgive him even if he is rather beautiful 😑... in short, by the way I really like your art I live for it 😍lol, and the little aburame are adorable I think their glasses are stylish 🤩

He is the chaotic neutral sibling that has a LOT of red flags 🚩

A fussy baby but nothing new to his parents, they’d just wrap him a little tighter and soothe him with back pats until he relaxed/calmed down.

He never really got along with his siblings (the triplets) as their personalities clashed and he often wasn’t allowed to get his point across before their parents intervened

Unlike Leonie’s aloof demeanor towards the comments about their shared skin condition, Sena found it extremely annoying to have it mentioned

So he fought those kids

Unlike Mika, who was the “perfect” son, he seemingly couldn’t do anything right/kept making mistakes

“You should follow Mika’s lead” was a common phrase he heard and that was extremely annoying

And Mika trying to extend him his help just angered him more, so he would fight with him because there’s no way Mika couldn’t see that he was treated like the “golden” child while he (Sena) was the “problematic” child

Having so many siblings felt suffocating; Asahi always had his friend around, Kuri was like a second mother, Frederick was overzealous, Leonie was always clinging to Mika, and Mika could do no wrong. So by the time Elke was born, he was over it.

He just wanted to leave

And he took every opportunity to push his luck and travel further and further away from home as child

First it was leaving the house as a young child without asking

Then it was going to the end of the village

Then it was crossing the river

Then it was camping out overnight by himself in the forest

That one actually got him in trouble and lectured by his father and made his mother question why he was behaving like that

They’re his family, he can talk to them and tell them anything

Sena simply said he was unhappy being one of many and wanted to leave

After the shock wore off and his mother told his father to go somewhere (because he was trying to argue with a child), his mom said that she really wanted him to be happy and she can understand his want for independence

However, she needed him to stay. He has his whole adult life to wander wherever he wants. He even has family he can meet back in their homeland, but he shouldn’t run from things just because they’re a little hard

So with a pinky promise to not hold him back once he was old enough AND to let him stay at grandma’s 3 days of the week

With that, Sena got some alone time which allowed him to breathe and grow an appreciation for his time with his siblings

Because Ebba had him working HARD jobs for trying to sass her

He trained under his grandmother’s guidance and has a natural with ninkens around town, often times getting them to obey his orders

It wasn’t until he was a pre-teen that he accepted his own ninken companion which was given to him by a wolf

Like “where’d you get the pup?” “A she-wolf” “oh.. wait, whaaaat?”

His popularity grew as he got older, with his previous aggression morphing into him becoming aggressively confident and more sociable

His white forelock proved to be a great ice breaker with the ladies and if that failed, their was Mika’s adorably oblivious self that made a great wingman

He learned he had a sliver tongue that could talk his way out of most situations and if he couldn’t, a little space seemed to cool people off

True Communication was never important to him as he never felt a need to go that deep or express every thought he had

Sometimes he just craved solitude to clear his head. Sometimes the weight of everything was too much and he’d shut down if he didn’t get that space from the situation

He was the teen that was always coming home late and sometimes not at all, that would joke his way out of trouble with his parents

A little bit of a playboy. He had multiple girlfriends and they all would argue over him/with him because he gave them the same sweet words

He fully accepted he was a jerk in most cases. Tell him something he doesn’t know he just didn’t care to people please

As much fun as he was having, he was also bored of the same old routine and told his parents it was time for him to go

Which of course they tried to protest, but he reminded them that while young, by societies standards he was a man and they had said he could venture out when he was old enough

Besides he had Shin (his ninken) to keep him safe on top of being the only kid they had to complete Ebba’s shinobi training

He wouldn’t die and if he did, just know he died doing something he’s longed to do.. plus they had 7 other kids to wipe their tears

He didn’t have a send off but he left everyone a letter stating he was going to the land of fire to see what all the fuss was about

And he did end up there eventually, after a few adventures of wandering around

He even ran into Arashi and his husband on a pirate ship. Little bro grew facial hair and saved his ass 😅

Once in the land of fire, he was pleasantly surprised by how different it was

He knew where to find the Uchiha’s and his uncles thanks to his mother, but he didn’t really make himself known to them

He was more interested in checking out the Inuzuka clan/visiting his aunt Meiko

It was there that he caught the most alluring scent he’d ever smelled and it was coming from the most wild woman he’d ever seen (Tsume)

Freshly home from a mission hosing off her ninken while talking excitedly about the upcoming festival with her comrades

She commanded the area and her eyes pierced right through him when they met his. Looking him up and down with a curious stare

And just as he was about to say something, she blast him with the hose

Giving him a wolfish smile and coy shrug before she and her comrades burst out laughing at his stunned face

It took him a moment to snap out of his daze, but he chuckled and simply said “thanks, I needed that” before carrying on with his day

His nice jacket drenched, shoes squeaking every so often, and once fluffy hair weighed down with water stuck to his forehead all made him smile

She’s feisty. He likes that.

He tried to pry information out of his aunt about the the wild haired brunette, about this heigh, modest bust, tight ass, boisterous, and really fuckin’ hot girl he had the pleasure of getting sprayed by

But she smacked the back of his head for saying those things and told him to keep it in his pants up least that girl rip it off him if he tried anything (rightfully so. The horny bastard)

he was causing quite the scene with the Inuzuka women because he really knew how to entertain (thanks Kuri, Frederick, and Mika)

The Inuzuka men appreciated his crude humor and tales of the lands he’s seen

But none of that brought him any closer to the one girl he wanted to get to know

However he was confident that he could at least get to talk to her at the festival, so he made sure to pay a visit to the one man he heard of that he knew for a FACT would have access to some impressive Yukatas

(Uncle) Tenko

And he was right! (Or his mother was right about her brother being a flashy man). Even in his older years, his extravagant lifestyle was evident

Tenko asked him about what took so long for him to show himself (his mother only sent him a letter every two months asking if he’d visited Konoha yet) and Sena didn’t really have a good reason other than not wanting to have live up to a name he doesn’t even possess (the Uchiha name)

No hard feelings though, If his nephew needed his help impressing some young thing. He would help him

A nice black Yukata with all the trimmings was all his. Oh and that girl he’s raving about? Sounds like, Tsume.

He could be wrong, but go ahead and tell her half of those descriptive words he used to her face

If he gets a swift knee in the balls, that’s definitely her

With that information and his outfit he went in the festival on a mission: don’t piss her off

When he found her at the festival, she was just as radiant as ever, standing like she boss she was

He could barely think over the music and his own heartbeat, but he did manage to properly introduce himself

She was clearly a bit tipsy as she hummed aloud and asked her Ninken should she introduce herself to this bastard before sticking her hand out and saying her name

“It’s Tsume~”

Her handshake was firm and she pulled him closer to whisper she knows he’s been asking about her before playfully walking her fingers up his chest before pushing him back

She told him to accompany her and he jumped at the chance

She bought a dog collar from a stall and half jokingly told him it’s his as he’s her guard dog for the night (he put it on and barked, shocking her for a moment before they both laughed)

The evening was full of laughs, odd questions to get to know each other, lots of play fighting, and falling over every other thing as they drank more and more. It was perfect to him

He wanted to get to know her better and wanted her to get to know him

He was ready to stay somewhere for once without wondering what else was out there

And when Tsume and him grew closer, he started thinking about how this is what they call love

She pushed him and he loved that

She was perfectly rough around the edges

She liked hearing about his travels before coming to Konoha

They found it fun to compare traditions of the Inuzuka there versus his home town

When he found out that they would be parents, he was excited

When he held Hana, he felt so much joy

He looked like her mother but she had his eyes. His perfect little one

He could hold her all day

Then the peace was shattered and suddenly he understood why his parents wanted out of the land of fire

He tried talking to Tsume about packing up and coming back to his country

She didn’t want to leave her people and insisted he should fight for them and his daughter too

It was around this time he pulled his first disappearing act to clear his head

He really was just off in some inn thinking of what the right thing to say or do was. Maybe even cry a little

It wasn’t for long, but long enough that Tsume and him got into a big argument

His irresponsibility was surfacing and creating a wedge between them

The fought, made up, things would get difficult and he’d need to “clear his head” again and the cycle would repeat

with each time becoming a little longer than the last

He didn’t want to make her mad, but he lost the ability to make her as happy as he once had

Eventually, they learned that they were expecting another child and while he was excited. Tsume was not.

She knew his pattern by then and they were in a rough patch; meaning he was likely to pull a disappearing stunt AGAIN the moment another argument broke out

But she gave him a warning; if he disappeared on his family again, he might as well do it for good. She couldn’t keep doing this and the kids deserved reliability.

In a much happier au, he’d get his mess together and communicate properly with everyone. Staying for his family and mend his relationship the Tsume because he truly loves her. Watching Hana and Kiba grow up first hand

Following the regular timeline, Tsume and him would get in a big argument when she finds out that 1. He hasn’t even told his family about their children 2. He’s withheld crucial information about who he is/who he’s related to

Which leads to him storming off in the night and her shouting at him that this was no longer his home or family

He barely got to even hold Kiba or bond with him and that keeps him up some nights

He sees the kids every time to time, with Hana clearly remembering him and telling him how likely her mom is to rip off his face if she catches him talking to her

And Kiba sort of flies right past him without knowing it’s him when he’s in town

Tsume isn’t quite as angry with him anymore, but she doesn’t think he’s a good influence for their children nor that he should just be able to drop in and out of their lives when it’s convenient for him

He ends up settling back into his home country with none of his siblings knowing about the family he made/lost

Keeping the pictures he has of the kids and Tsume and his younger years together in an album in keeps in the closet

His father knows and is very disappointed in him (which, fair. He’s disgusted with himself too)

Mika and Leonie feel like he’s hiding something, but at the same time he tells them it’s not up to him if/when he’ll be able to tell them his story. He respects someone’s (Tsume’s) wishes too much

He knows he doesn’t have a right to bother her anymore, but he still wants her/what they could’ve had

He’s selfish and he knows that

He was lucky once and he fucked that all the way up and he knows it

But still

[highfantasy-soul]

Katara: NATLA Edition - Waterbending

In the Netflix show, Katara's main teacher was the world - she observed, she learned the spiritual side of bending from Aang (and a little from Jet), and she learned from opponents she fought (including Pakku)

This is SHOWING Uncle Iroh's lesson to Zuko in Bitter Work (book 2) about learning as much as you can from everywhere even if they aren't directly doing your own style of bending. By learning about everyone's cultures/styles/philosophies of the world, then you have a more rounded view of the world and can incorporate new things into your own bending.

I think an important distinction people are missing when they compare LA and animated Katara is that in the animated series, we see Katara WATERBEND more, but in the live action, we see her PRACTICING waterbending more.

In the animated series, she's already doing very useful things with her waterbending (lifting a fish, throwing water and freezing it, breaking apart an iceberg with her anger, pulling down a bank of snow,  lifting a whole wave of water, pushing and pulling a wave, pulling water from Aang's lungs, pushing the water while she's in it to get to shore faster, lifting water from a river to freeze as a block on a guy's head, lifting and maneuvering water in the air) before she ever even gets a hint of training. She just 'naturally' knows how to do all that through her own trial and error - no advice from Aang about the spirituality of bending, no training from the scroll, and no using moves she's seen other benders do just making it water.

The only times we see animated Katara training is in The Waterbending Scroll episode - which is the entire point of the episode - and in the trio of episodes up in the NWT - again, the whole point of her arc in those episodes. Everything else, she's done on her own and there's no moments of her training during the other episodes, she just waterbends.

In the live action, we see Katara constantly practicing, even when she's just in the background of a scene or traveling from place to place - she's ALWAYS practicing her stances or playing with water to get better.

In the live action, Katara is struggling with ALL of waterbending, not just the technical aspect of it - because bending is a highly spiritual practice where you have to be in the right mindset to do successfully. We see every single step of Katara's waterbending practice journey - from not even being able to lift a globe of water to holding her own against a master.

We get to see the process of bending from start to finish which really fleshes out the magic of the world in an organic way while providing one of our leads with more depth that ties them to the themes of the world and of their own culture and how the oppression of the Fire Nation affects her mental state.

In the animated show, we hear Katara talk about how losing her mother hurt her, yet we really only see the fallout of that trauma, not her inner turmoil over it. We see her taking on a 'motherly' role in the community and with Sokka, we see her anger at the firebenders, we see how she's had to grow up too fast and just wants to be a kid, but the actual death of her mother and its affect on her isn't shown.

I like how the live action specifically shows how Katara's mother's death affects HER - she doesn’t just share the story to connect with others, it's not just the 'reason' she acts the way she does, it's not just something that impacts her relationships with others: if no one else in the world existed for Katara to interact with, Katara would still have a journey to go on surrounding Kya's death.

In the LA, the fact that her mother was killed by a firebender looking for HER - and she tries to save her mother using her waterbending and it doesn't work because she isn't strong enough yet, directly affects Katara herself independent of anyone else. That trauma keeps her from being able to waterbend easily like she does in the animated show and it's one of her main arcs: the arc to learn waterbending isn't just a technical journey for her like it is in the animated show, it's emotional too.

Generational trauma due to horrific violence is shown both in external issues to grapple with as well as internal ones our characters have to face alone.

I really like how the live action broke down Katara's waterbending and we got to see the 'less flashy' aspects of it. She's not constantly doing huge and impactful moves, she's steadily growing in power and confidence one small step at a time. She doesn't do it alone - she has so many teachers who help her along the way with both the physical and mental aspect of bending and to me, her progression in power is much more clear in the live action than it is in the animated show.

[official-darkforest]

in your anthro au, does bramble actually make it to canada? is the plotline of the lake territory scrapped for something else?

rambled quite a bit here!

no, they dont make it to canada. they abandoned that idea after feather was killed. instead her funeral and burial is held in california by her dying wish and her family drives/flies over. graystripe and mosspelt took feather's car, but mosspelt flies back home via plane. graystripe is staying wirh storm indefinitely and eventually meets millie.

with storm's blessing, bramble,tawny, crow, and squirrel take the van back home. tawny is dropped off on the way, but crow insists on tagging along to thunder because he's not ready to be alone yet. his family is pretty small and he's not sure his parents will be able to help much, as much as they may try.

dodging the draft can get you into trouble, but there are many that got off scot free and bramble was one pf those lucky fellows (especially with firestar's involvement. he made sure bramble wouldn't have it held against him in return for keeping squirrel safe and bringing her home). firestar was furious at both bramble and squirrel but he's not cruel and unsympathetic, especially considering they just lost a very close friend (and that gray isnt coming back for a while).

this is where crow and leaf meet, crow is kinda bunking with bramble at his place and even had plans to move in for good. his parents were pretty combative but couldnt do much since he was a few states away!!! they dont know where the fuck thunder-whatever is. but eventually he gets a call about his father's rapidly declining health and immediately abandons his plans to stay. he asks leaf to come with him but leaf still isn't finished with med school (she doesn't know she's pregnant yet) and they part ways. crow makes it home to help ashfoot care for deadfoot in his final few months and fills in after his father dies. it's something he didnt plan to continue but its notnlike he HATES doing the work. eventually meets+marries nightcloud a 1-4 yrs later

leaf meanwhile continues med school. being unmarried with kids is still a social taboo, especially at such a young age (im imagining she and squirrel are around 18-19 by now, 17 during the road trip). squirrel and bramble, however, had been in a relationship with one another for a while after coming back home. sure, it got a bit messy when ashfur came back from vietnam and got a bit too close to squirrel for comfort, but they sorta resolved it and eventually bramble/squirrel got engaged. leaf confided in squirrel for her help with the pregnancy and squirrel immediately offered to take the children in as her own if leaf needed. it was a huge jump but leaf took the offer. bramble was let in on the plan the closer leaf got to her due date. he thought it was a very impulsive decision and they fought a bit about making the decision without him but he was enthusiastic about being a father regardless.

the others in town had their suspicions but dont ask dont tell.

theres some other parts i havent fully ironed out yet like where hawkfrost and mothwint come in.

as for the actual lake territories, they coexist with the forest territories by just being in different states LOL windclan and thunderclan's territory was pretty consistent in terms of The Basics so theyre mostly in the same general area (tc is east coast forests, wc is southwest-midwest prairies. theres a lot of cowboys, farmers, and ranchers in "windclan" as a result). shadowclan i can see being in the southern swamps, especially florida or louisiana, and riverclan is kinda interspersed alont the mississippi and ohio rivers. maybe a few along the east coast, too, as the lake territory equivalent. skyclan is probably in the rockies or the redwood forests out west. maybeeee old skyclan is in the appalachias???? idk LOL since the cats are so far apaer now the conflicts are a little less wide scale and more personal if rhat makes any sense at all. of course this whole au is a huge work in progress so some of what i say here may change!

the clans are rural/small/poor towns in my head. tight knit communities that have to rely on each other. kittypets are urban/suburbanites as a contrast and keep the 'kittypets r fucjing spoiled' theme going . you inow the city slicker junk LOL

bloodclan is probably a gang in new york. at least scourge's bloodclan. the other iterations are probably in other huge metropolitan cities. idk what warriorclan is, and the tribe is a whole can of worms im trying to be very careful with so im not gonna talk about them as a whole quite yet other than imply they exist

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hunt x Nesta - Epilogue

Life sucked.

Hunt could split his life into two chapters: before Nesta and after Nesta. Both chapters sucked. But that little blip in the middle – the one week where life had been better than he ever expected was good. He’d always have that.

‘Stop moping, my goodness.’

Isaiah groaned from his desk then dropped his forehead onto the cheap wood.

‘Everything reminds me of her,’ Hunt replied, holding up a sugar sachet from the crappy coffee machine.

It was true. Hunt could draw a correlation to Nesta regardless of the topic; she liked it, she would have hated it, he wished he could show her it, they’d tried it.

He had loved Shahar but it had been intense from the start. The rebellion had intensified every moment of it, pushing them both towards a zenith that he free-fell from. Losing her was different. It was a loss that held finality – but Hunt had lost so many that day, had suffered so much as a result, the grief had been for Shahar and all the others who'd fought alongside him.

To Shahar, he had been Hunt, a powerful angel plucked from the bowels of Pangea to command her legions.

This was different.

To Nesta, he’d only ever been Orion. Grumpy, sleepy, teasing, serious, or goofy, she’d wanted all of him. And Nesta wasn’t dead but it would have hurt less if she was.

Night after night, Hunt scoured the internet on any whiff of something similar to the Horn to try and find a way back to her. He’d deal with breeches and no hair dryer if it meant they were together again. He’d even wondered if Ruhn Danaan would know anything about another fae relic because Isaiah couldn’t be persuaded to get another warrant to search the Autumn King’s home for hidden artefacts.

‘I know that you miss her, Hunt, but it’s just not possible to find her again,’ he said calmly.

Those same words had been said to him a month earlier, also by Isaiah, when he’d found Hunt deliberating in the street. He’d gathered is hard-earned coins ready to dump them all in the Astronomer’s lap so that he’d use his mystics to locate her. In the end, it proved too risky. Hunt wouldn’t dare to expose Nesta that way.

‘It fucking sucks,’ replied Hunt before shuffling back to his desk for a long night of paperwork.

When Nesta left, Hunt expected a depression to come and drown him. He’d been there before and it always lurked in his periphery. But she’d given him hope and it felt different. The light didn’t abate in her absence; the flame remained burning. So he worked and worked. Did what Micah asked. Treaded every single line without complaint. And he thought of her. Thought of her smile, her curiosity, the way she had him wrapped around her finger in a single day.

***

‘What now?’

Emerie’s brown eyes had dulled from their week of absolute hell. She sat on the cushioned windowsill of the river estate with mud still caked over her face. Nesta looked down at her own hands. They were splattered with a mix of blood. Some was hers, Cassian’s, Bellius’, and Feyre’s.

Her stomach was empty enough that it hurt. She’d see a healer soon. Gwyn had the worst injuries so was with Madja in a separate room.

A small cry rang out down the hall from the baby boy, Nyx.

Feyre had died. Her heart had stopped beating. Nesta had felt the whole world turn colder, felt the knife coming for Feyre’s thread, so Nesta did the only thing she could think of. Still beaten and ruined from the Blood Rite, she gave her power back. She gave it all back.

And Feyre lived. The boy lived.

Nesta wedged her aching body into the windowsill next to Emerie, wishing they were a different set of wings cradling her shoulders.

It had been a tough few months since her little jaunt to Lunathion.

To his credit, Lucien did not speak of what he saw. He simply pretended the entire event had never happened and acted with all the quality of one the males from Fangs and Bangs when it was discovered by the others that Nesta had returned. It was their secret, never to be mentioned. She was grateful for that.

None ever questioned her moroseness because it was no different to her capricious ways. She could feel herself pushing everybody away, as always, week after week without Hunt’s infectious joy. The idea of Cassian touching her churned her stomach. She’d put an end to it, dumbfounding him. And when her sister’s family had convinced her to seduce Eris through dance, it confirmed to Nesta that all she would ever be was a pawn to be used for their benefit. When Eris had shown interest, Nesta had considered it if only to have a lifeline out of the Night Court.

‘I don’t even know if it will work,’ Nesta said quietly, tilting her head to touch Emerie’s.

The pair of them absolutely reeked. Being dragged from their beds and dumped onto Ramiel for a week would do that. Only sheer grit and hoping had kept them alive. That, and Gwyn bringing a beast to slaughter eight of the Illyrians.

‘It’s worth a try,’ replied Emerie.

They’d huddled together in the dark, cold and tired but not willing to sleep. And Nesta had told Emerie and Gwyn everything about the male she’d found in Lunathion. How she could not even go an hour without thinking of him, without imagining a life together. They’d listened with rapture, delighted for her as true friends were. Even when she cried at the thought of leaving them behind, they encouraged her to take her chance if they made it out alive because they loved her enough to let her go and find happiness.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘What’s complicated? Toot the horn and fly off with your angel.’

Gwyn limped into the room in her filthy clothes. ‘Who’s tooting? Are we tooting?’

‘Nesta’s about to go to the future with her angel lover.’

Instead of indignation, colour heated her cheeks and she felt like a giggling, love-struck fool. ‘He is so handsome.’

The cell phone had died quickly from all the moments that Nesta had spent agonising over photos of the Umbra Mortis in his boxers, as he called them.

‘So we have heard,’ Emerie replied drily.

Nesta shoved her heart back into its cage. ‘It’s impossible. I’ve surrendered my power. The Horn won’t work. Hunt is a slave. It’s been almost four months. He could be sold by now to another owner.’

‘Then buy him back,’ urged Gwyn.

‘With what?’

Emerie braced a hand against her ribs as she stood. ‘Well, the High Lord did offer you anything for saving their lives.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Rhysand would never agree to let me go, much less give me a pile of his wealth to send me on way. They still think Cassian is my mate. That the bond will snap. If it didn’t snap when Briallyn had him try to kill me, it never will – and I thank the stars for that.’

The words hung heavy. It had been one horrific moment after the other. Cassian bellowing at her on a bridge crossing the Sidra that she was his, despite her refusals. Morrigan delivering her to Emerie and Gwyn as she trembled. Waking disorientated in the Blood Rite. Staring down Bellius as she held Ramiel’s pass. Briallyn controlling Cassian with the Crown, trying to kill her. Only the Mask coming to her rescue again had saved her life.

‘I made a list the other day of all the things I’d like to do in Prythian. Do you know what I wrote?’ At her friends’ expectant faces, she continued, ‘Finish my book. I have no desires or dreams here. I am simply an object.’

‘What did you write for the other side?’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘So many things. There are things I want to do that I don’t even know exist yet. I want to go to the amusement park with Hunt. To study. I’d study for my whole life. I want to throw my cap in the air when I’ve finished studying. I want to live with Orion – I want a life with him like I’ve never dreamed of a male before. I didn’t kiss him enough.’

‘It was not only the High Lord’s life you saved, Nesta,’ Emerie reminded her. ‘There is a High Lady of the Night Court.’   

***

Silver light poured into the room like molten metal, so bright that Hunt needed to shield his eyes from the glare.

A low, hissing noise had him scurrying from his bed and pressing his wings to the cream wall in anticipation.

‘What the fuck.’

The wall opposite was flooded with a silver fire that chilled him to the bone. The narrow window above his bed frosted over. On his exhale, his breath was visible.

Then she was there.

The fire fell away, revealing an ornate library with rows of leather-bound books. Light streamed in from the massive bay windows, bathing Nesta in its glow. Like the first day that Hunt had seen her, Nesta was other-worldly. Instead of tight leathers that sinfully kissed every curve, she wore a pale lavender dress with a square-cut neckline. Her hands were buried in the long sleeves although Hunt spotted the tip of the horn poking from beneath. The draping skirts couldn’t hide the sneakers that she’d bought in Lunathion and declared the comfiest shoes she’d ever tried.

‘Tell me I’m dreaming,’ Hunt murmured.

Twice, Nesta’s lips parted then sealed again. Tears rimmed her grey eyes.

‘Nesta,’ he said, stepping closer to the fiery portal. The hairs on his arm stood from the seeping cold that surrounded it.

A soft gasp emitted from her side and two females came into view, ushered into the library by the same male he’d seen months ago with red hair and a metallic eye. One cradled a baby to her chest. This had to be Feyre; she had the unmistakeable look of her older sister although freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose and her hair hung freely. A swirling, black tattoo covered the hand that stroked her son’s wings. The other female was darker haired with large brown eyes reminding Hunt of a faun.

‘It worked?’ Feyre asked.

‘Obviously,’ the male replied, making Elain giggle and cover her mouth to hide it.

Hunt took another step closer to Nesta who was still immobilised. In the chairs behind her were two more females. Hunt had heard all about them. The winged one was Emerie and the red-haired one was Gwyn. Nesta’s face had lit up as she spoke of her only friends in Prythian when they’d been together.

‘Hey, Starlight,’ he said, reaching his hand through to her side. He jerked his chin towards her sister and the baby. ‘They made it.’

‘They made it,’ Nesta repeated, face twisting with emotion. ‘I gave up my power for them. I didn’t know if this would still work. I had to choose between seeing you again and saving them.’

‘And everybody won,’ he said, grasping her shaking hand.

It took every instinct not to haul her through to his side and kiss her until every star went out.

Nesta did that for him.

From the force that she yanked him to her, Hunt was practically falling. His hands found her waist to steady himself and he could feel her breath on his cheek as he pulled himself upright. Their bodies knocked together, the softness of her curves feeling like home.

‘I missed you.’

‘There has been nobody to laugh with.’ He touched his forehead to hers. ‘There was a national crisis because demand for ice cream plummeted since you left.’

When Hunt moved to kiss her, he stilled. There were markings on her neck, a fresh cut that still had the scab on her cheek and more wounds on her hands. They had to be recent because fae healed as fast as malakim.

‘What the Hel has happened? Are you alright? Who hurt you?’

The two females in the chair exchanged a glance then he noticed that both of them had been wounded recently too. Emerie had a bruise above her eyebrow that caused the lid to swell and Gwyn’s hands were bound in bandages.  

‘It’s alright,’ Nesta murmured, holding his hands in hers. ‘Something happened. I was taken. The three of us. We woke in the Blood Rite.’

‘I don’t know what that is.’

Surprising him, Nesta broke into a laugh. It skittered over his skin like static.  

‘What’s funny?’

‘That’s what I say to you, Orion.’

The male, Lucien, cleared his throat from his post at the door. ‘Nesta, I don’t know how long it will be open – or until they notice.’

‘Right,’ she said, nodding. ‘It was hell. All of it. That week on the mountain and all the months before. All I wanted was you. I told my friends that if we survived, if we made it through each night, I would find you.’

From the three-legged table, Nesta picked up a rolled-up piece of parchment. There was a line down the middle, splitting it into two columns. In an elegant script, lines upon lines of text had been written.

‘I wrote why I should stay here or why I should leave. There is danger on both sides, uncertainty, and it feels like leaping into the unknown. This is the world I know. My sisters are here. But the difference is in Lunathion, I will have you. And that makes all the difference, Hunt.’ She clutched the paper tighter. ‘I don’t care. All I want is you.’

When his day began, Hunt didn’t have Nesta appearing and offering him a forever on his bingo card. He blew out a breath. ‘Nesta, I’m a slave. I can’t give you a home. I don’t even know who my father is. If you want a life of comfort, you’re better off with Tristan Flynn.’

There was a brilliant shine of determination in her eyes. ‘I want a male who will love me.’

He’d loved her the moment she’d dropped out of the sky and told Isaiah she was a bard. These months without her had felt like living without the sun. He’d do another two hundred years in gorsian shackles strung up in the Asteri’s dungeon rather than spend another moment without Nesta.

Hunt stepped back through the portal to his room in the barracks and pulled out a prospectus for Crescent City University along with guidance on how to apply for funding. He’d gathered them just in case Nesta ever came back. He’d pulled legislation on the minimal rights of slaves. As long as Hunt answered when called, slaves could rent a property – they couldn’t own it, but it was a start, so he’d saved every penny of his pitiful wages, took double shifts and worked on his allotted days off to scrape together a few more coins because Nesta had given him that piece of hope that he hadn’t had before.

On the desk, there was photo album that he’d been compiling. It had provided an outlet instead of moping. Hunt had channelled all of his dreams into it.

‘There’s still space for more,’ he said, stepping back through and handing it to Nesta.

Her sisters and the other females peered over her shoulder at it. Every single photo that Nesta had taken on her cell and his, no matter how blurred, had been printed out and stuck in with his terrible handwriting beneath with a caption. Hunt had written about their day, about what she’d said, where they’d been or what they’d eaten. There was one of her bending down with the Istros in the background as Hunt had tried to get a scurrying otter in shot with her – but ended up with a smear of brown and yellow flopping into the river.

‘You look in pain there,’ said Elain, pointing to one.

‘She couldn’t decide on a milkshake flavour.’

Nesta’s lips quirked as she looked at the photo. ‘I regret banana.’

‘Is that why you drank mine?’

There were photos of him too. Ones she had taken. Ones that were blurry or zoomed in too far or ones in the elevator when she discovered that she could use the mirror to capture both of them. One of him with his fluffed-up wings and that rotten witch-ink halo on full display. One of them snuggled up on the bed on a pile of pillows. Lots of them together; Nesta appearing regal and poised whilst he looked surly or goofy to annoy her. One of Nesta in her gown before the ballet with Ruhn that she’d taken of herself in the bathroom mirror. A few of her when she’d put a cat-eared filter on and couldn’t work out how to take it off. Some even of Ruhn when he was driving, trying to block the camera with his tattooed hand.

‘I thought that was Rhys.’

Nesta chuckled, ‘So did I – and I gave him hell for it.’

‘They’re coming,’ said Lucien from the window where he’d been observing the skies. ‘They’ve likely felt the shift in the wards.’

On the horizon, three black shapes were moving quicker, wings beating rapidly.

Nesta turned to him, silver eyes shining with hope. ‘Will you have me?’

‘You were mine the day you fell from the stars. I love you. You think I make photo albums for every girl that lands in the middle of the road?’

Nesta silenced him with a kiss that surprised everybody in the room.

‘My bags are packed. I’ve already said goodbye.’

‘You’ll have to flirt with Flynn to get his credit card again,’ he said, grimacing slightly. ‘It will be centuries until I can afford somewhere for us to live.’

Feyre shook her head. ‘Finances are handled.’

‘I’m paying for your freedom,’ Nesta said resolutely. ‘There may only be one Umbra Mortis but I’m the bitch who stole from the Cauldron. That has to count for something.’  

 What she was, was a pillar of steel that could never be broken. Hunt didn’t care if she was sharp or unyielding, she was his Nesta. His girl from the stars.

Hunt slid his hands to her face, kissing her deeply. He didn’t care if her sisters watched. Didn’t care if the winged female whistled loudly at them. He had waited months to feel her again, to hold her.

‘We need to go,’ Nesta urged.

The two females had moved back to the chairs and exchanged a glance as the roof shook. A heavy landing. Feyre clutched her son to her chest, eyes going vacant as if listening to something else.

Three bags had been prepared and neatly tucked beneath the table. On her direction, Hunt hauled them up and through the portal back into the barracks. The final one tested his strength. It was bulky and ridiculously heavy, but with five females watching him, Hunt pretended the weight didn’t surprise him even if his muscles strained.

‘Are you bringing your Harp, bard?’

‘No. Only the Horn to close it then we’ll destroy it.’

Hunt pretended he didn’t just hear Nesta declare that she was about to break a priceless fae artefact that would have Einar Danaan, Micah, and the Asteri string her up from a dungeon for touching it.

They were doing this.

A cold sweat rippled down his back. They were really doing this. In the face of an archangel, a fae prince, and whatever the Asteri were, Hunt and Nesta were doing this for real.

His fingers enclosed around her wrists as steps grew closer. ‘Are you sure? You’ve known me a week.’

‘I have the rest of my life to know you,’ she said, before kissing him tenderly again. ‘Orion Athalar, you are my home. Maybe I fell that day, rattling the stars, because I was searching for you.’

The door swung open and shadows flooded in, sweeping the rugs of the library like a tidal wave that could no longer be held back. The first male had slicked back black hair and sparkling eyes so blue they appeared violet.

‘Shit, he does look like Ruhn,’ said Hunt.

In a soft voice, he said, ‘What is this?’

Two more males filed in, taking care to manoeuvre their large, leathery wings through the wooden doorway. These were the Illyrians she had spoken of which meant one was Azriel, who’d handed her a bag too heavy for her to manage, and the other was Cassian, a male who Hunt would delight in hurting.

Immediately, Hunt catalogued the subtle changes in Nesta. Whilst he would have expected her spine to go straighter, her chin to lift in defiance, instead Nesta curled in on herself as if she was deflating. Her shoulders hunched, making herself smaller and a flat, empty expression took up residence on her pale face.

The high lord’s eyes flashed to the Horn in Nesta’s hands. With a jolt of magic that Hunt felt fire across the room, he tried to lurch the Made item from her grip but it stayed firmly in her hand.

‘You have opened a portal to another world,’ he said, voice low and edged with warning. ‘You are endangering the lives of everybody in this city, Nesta. Endangering my mate and our son.’

Hunt couldn’t take it. It was as if all of the air was being pressed from the room. The two Illyrian sentries stood silent either side of their high lord in a display of cruel dominance. Neither would speak for Nesta. Hunt looked again to the females. Her two sisters were mute. The red-haired male had taken a not-so-subtle step closer to Elain, an arm extending ready to shield her. The other two females were as pale and timid as Nesta had become in their chairs; the winged one settled a hand on Gwyneth’s knee in reassurance as shadows lashed at the walls.  

These fae pricks.

‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’

The urge to let his lightning loose was an instinct that proved difficult to deny – but not when Nesta was in the firing line, nor a child and a male with a metal eye that would send his lightning haywire.

The high lord blinked in disbelief then took a step closer to Nesta.

Lightning wreathed his hands in response. ‘Don’t even fucking think about it.’

‘If it hits Nesta?’

Hunt could play that game. He went into the place where Micah sent him where it was cold and empty. ‘If it hits your son? Your mate?’

He let the static tighten the room so strands of their hair rose. Hunt pulled the clouds closer, bringing in a storm from the mountains which darkened the room. Rain pattered upon the glass.

The male to the high lord’s left tilted his head, back hair falling across his pensive face. The blue stones on his leathers pulsed. ‘What are you?’

‘He’s not Peregryn,’ the male with red stones said.

He kept his brown eyes fixed on the threats in the room while he spoke softly to Nesta. ‘Go through, Starlight. We’ll go to the movies tonight. I realised you never tasted popcorn.’

The weight of her decision pressed on her. That, or the arrogant bastards shooting daggers at her.  

‘We can make out on the back row too.’

That shifted something in Nesta, like the final screw coming loose. She exhaled with relief and edged towards him. Hunt stretched out his arm towards her to sweep his love behind him, behind his wings, so she could step through safely to the barracks as if they were negotiating the transfer of a hostage.

‘Baby, can you get my gun? It’s in the holster at the bottom of the bed.’

With a trembling hand, Nesta placed the gun in the hand that was outstretched behind himself. Magic was great, but nothing could quite replace a steel kiss. Hunt cocked his weapon, keeping it trained on the high lord.

‘Which one’s Cassian?’

Likely the male whose face was purpling as he stared at Hunt like he wanted to wrap his hands around his throat. Join the club, buddy, Hunt thought.

‘The red stones?’

None in the room gave an acknowledgement to his words. He didn’t want this to turn into a standoff but now that Hunt was here, facing the bastards who’d made Nesta’s life a misery for the last couple of years, he couldn’t resist being a dick. The Umbra Mortis had earned his reputation. He’d survived torture and a failed rebellion. And he was going to have a beautiful future with his gorgeous Nesta – but first, these males needed to atone.

‘Listen, these ladies look as if they’ve seen enough violence so I’ll refrain from blasting your brains out on these lovely rugs, but you owe my girl an apology.’ Over his shoulder, Hunt asked, ‘Does Lucien need to say sorry?’

‘Hunt, don’t bother. Let’s just close it.’

‘Does Lucien need to say sorry?’ he repeated.

Nesta gave a sigh. ‘No. Lucien is fine.’

‘Good male,’ he said, offering a slight wink in the scarred-one’s direction.

A shadow that had been creeping along the skirting board made to lunge towards him but Hunt hit it with a bolt of lightning that crippled it. The male who’d bejazzled his leathers with blue stones winced as if he felt the blow too. Aha, that was the shadowsinger. Red stones was the prick who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

‘Alright, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say sorry to Nesta then I’m leaving with her. We’re going to have a beautiful life together and never come back to this place again.’ Hunt gave a dramatic sigh. ‘If I’m honest, I think it’s less about my company and more about the fact you three have made her life so miserable here that she's willing to leave.’

‘That’s not true,’ Nesta called, and he caught the slight playful edge in her tone. ‘I want to go to university too.’

Little minx.

The three males were carved from stone. Every now and then, Hunt felt something trying to edge towards his mind like a tendril of smoke but his lightning zapped it without thought.

‘My finger is getting really sweaty holding back this trigger.’

The gun wasn’t even loaded – safety protocol – but if these fae were as clueless as Nesta had been, they’d have no idea.

‘Nesta, I am sorry that we did not extend the same warmth to you as we did to your sisters. I’m truly sorry that after the war, we were not a support for you.’

‘Well done, blue stones. Next one.’

The high lady shuffled the baby who was growing restless in her arms. ‘Is this necessary?’

‘Yes. Next question.’

Hunt lashed his lightning towards the males’ feet, making them leap back a step. Damn, he wished he recorded the sudden bloom of fear on their arrogant faces.

‘I’m sorry that I loved you,’ Cassian said. ‘I’m sorry that I gave you everything I could and it still wasn’t enough. Nes, what are you doing? In this life, we can have our time together. Think of our future.’

‘Didn’t you make her walk until she collapsed?’

The male blanched. ‘It was for her own good.’

‘No,’ Hunt uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I can't do this. I need to go before I shoot you.’

Behind him, Nesta’s snort of laughter was the confirmation that Hunt needed. Nesta would never get the apology that she deserved from this male – but the promise of a future free from him was good enough. A future with Hunt meant more.

His wings scooped low, tucking towards his spine, as Hunt took a backwards step. The cold bite of Nesta’s magic that surrounded the portal edged closer. He hoped he would look cool departing the library and wouldn’t fall on his ass through to the other side.

Once back in Lunathion, Hunt stood at Nesta’s side, proud to do it.

‘We won’t come here again,’ said Nesta, voice growing stronger with every word. Her eyes bounced between her friends and her sisters. ‘I love you but this is best for me. I wish you all the love in the world.’

Nesta lifted the horn to her lips and Hunt prayed to Luna that she’d hit that note on the first try or he’d laugh his ass off again. His hand enclosed around her fist, raising it in the air.

‘This is how we say bye in my world, assholes.’

Hunt prised Nesta’s middle finger up to flip them off – giving her only a moment to blow the Horn before she grinned.

Silver flames swarmed it then fell in on themselves like a star collapsing. They were left with the plain wall of his room in the Comitium.

‘You okay?’

Hunt touched her cheek in an attempt to read her expression. She didn’t need to wear the mask anymore. There would be no hiding her feelings or supressing her hurts. Nesta could be Nesta in Lunathion. And if she didn’t know who that was yet, it was fine. She could discover who she was.

Nesta slipped her hands around his neck, moving closer. ‘Oh, you are going to get it tonight, Orion Athalar.’

‘Oh?’ An eyebrow cocked up.

‘Defending me. Making them say sorry. What a male.’

Their lips crushed together. Now they had about a thousand things to do before they could relax, like storing the Horn somewhere safe, where nobody would notice the magic, find a place to live rather than keep her smuggled in the barracks, and figure out what the Hel was in that massive bag. With Nesta at his side, anything was possible. They’d weather the storm.

‘Your male,’ Hunt said between hurried kisses.

‘Mine,’ agreed Nesta.

‘Always.’  

[clanborn]

How does starclan work in Alaska clans versus canon? In the same vein how to leader lives work, how many do each leader have currently?

Ah I’ve been waiting for this question and the answer is complicated and not fully developed yet but the vagueness is sort of inherent to the clans’ beliefs.

So the clans do not believe in a Starclan or any kind of specific afterlife. The question of what comes after death is a question entirely unknown to the cats of the clans, though naturally most cats have their own individual ideas regarding it.

Instead, the cats of the clans mainly worship a set of four patron gods, four large carnivores: a lynx, a bear, a sea lion, and a wolf.

Each god serves as a patron for each clan, as well as a patron of other natural phenomena.

- The Lynx: Patron god of all cats, of Iceclan, of death, winter, games, snow, and time

- The Bear: Patron god of Brookclan, life, spring, rivers, change, cycles

- The Wolf: Patron god of Stoneclan, wits, autumn, community, crafts, lakes

- The Sea Lion: Patron god of Oceanclan, the sea, summer, fortune, strength, and challenges

I refer to these gods in the singular, but the cats worship these animals as one unit. Any lynx would be considered The Lynx. The clan cats themselves view their own lives this way, each as an extension of a single conglomerate, of Catkin as a whole (though Oceanclan has some philosophical objection to this).

Along with this, any sort of creature is considered its own sort of deity, just as minor ones compared to the ones the cats follow. For example, the snowshoe hare is a creature of spiritual importance, a symbol of sacrifice and deference to the gods.

The leaders each receive nine lives like in the original series, a precedent set by the first clan cat/leader, Stonestar, who fought a lynx for nine lives (an origin story I need to finish soon). All of the original leaders of the four clans won favor with one of the patron gods, each earning nine lives in turn, and swearing fealty in return for the privilege to inhabit the Bay.

The lives the leaders receive may provide insight into the afterlife of catkin: when new leaders get their lives in the Moon Cave, each one appears to be a glimpse of a cat’s life lived before, suggesting some sort of cycle in play. And cycles are relevant to the beliefs of the clans, specifically a spiritual emphasis on water and its cycles.

As for how many lives each leader currently has, I haven’t really figured out specifics since it’s not super relevant to Event Horizon, but Sandstar definitely has the least due to his age and reckless nature, followed by Shalestar, who is also an older leader. Fogstar is very cautious and has not lost many lives despite her age, and Aspenstar still has many lives as well due to being the youngest, though she has lost several as a sacrifice while serving her clanmates.

This is only a bare bones overview of the clans’ religion but there’s a lot to cover and I wanted to make sure I answered your questions lol 😭

[procrastinationaccount]

Hey can you explain how wake got in the sword? And how wake did the whole revenant thing? Her storyline after her and johns baby is sooooo confusing to me

I'm not the best person to ask about this tbh I'm sorry 😭 My thought process:

We know that she went directly from her bones to the sword (HtN 469), that anything strongly associated with her life or death will work, including anything that touched her murder weapon (172); however, Wake was kicked out of an airlock (so G1deon's boot and No Air) and Gideon's sword was still wrapped when she got it (418), so that seems like a dead end. We know that Gideon's sword is of the Drearburh stock, which are traditionally not touched without gloves or bled on by anyone who isn't the owner (323), and it's at the very least the same type of sword Alecto used, but she didn't overlap with Wake's timeline, so that also seems like a dead end.

On the other hand, we have Nonius forming a revenant link through Ortus' "sheer passion" (453) for him; Gideon certainly had passion for calling her mother to her in spades, so I wonder if she could have done it by accident? There's also the emphasis on blood wards being transferable through the blood of direct relatives, so maybe thanergetic links work the same way and Gideon bleeding on the sword at some point let Wake use it as a vessel. My final, least textually supported guess is that at some point Gideon fought a skeleton that included her bones and damage to them still counted as interacting with her thalergy/thanergy, especially since her revenant was still in them. Idk idk.

Things become more clear-cut going into her HtN plotline. Since Harrow killed Cytherea with the sword she was in, she had a thanergetic link to her corpse and was able to use it to spook Harrow, alternately have sexy times and try to kill Pyrrha (and/or G1deon), and get her audience with Jod at the end. She also had access to Harrow's head, presumably because Harrow washes the sword down with her arterial blood every night (59 - babygirl whyyyyy). Then Abigail and Magnus successfully exorcised her from Harrow and the sword, and Pyrrha destroyed her last corporeal anchor by destroying Cytherea's brain (confirmed on 455 and 472)

Presumably she's currently in the River living her best afterlife. I mean, even if she has no way of knowing this in the end G1deon died surrounded by comrades, her niece successfully nepotismed her way into one of the most important positions of her organization, her bomb got the tomb open, and Pyrrha is stuck technically working under said niece while caring for a parade of casualties of devotion. Honestly she's the closest thing this series has to a girlboss winning.

[julia4today]

the return of arthur pendragon - angst?? PT. 1

this is basically purely backstory, i needed to get something outtt (merlin x arthur)

a/n: this is probably the longest thing I've ever written. +I wrote this on a computer so everything is capitalized n stuff. and i want to say that im really sorry this is delayed and also the first thing ive posted in like two months. that's really on me. additionally, i have a reader x hobie fic coming out soon.

if you have sent me a request I WILL get to it, some may require more research and brain power. announcments: i have an ao3 (i havent posted anything on it though) pendragonco

Most imagine the afterlife to be a wonderland full of radiant flora and a deity only decided by yourself. A place where you may live out the years you never got to experience. But you would be wrong.

The truth is far more complex. It is a realm where echoes of your past deeds and dreams intertwine with the fabric of eternity. Time flows differently, like a river winding through the core of memories and contrition, where every choice made in life reverberates on the very existence of the universe. There are no simple paradises or solitary deities here, but rather a tapestry of existence woven from the threads of every life that comes before and leads after yours.

However, to Arthur Pendragon, both definitions seem untrue. It almost taunts him with how easy they make being dead seem to a new generation of the dead and the living.

To King Arthur, the afterlife is a treacherous wasteland, where the dead seemed unnaturally content despite their recent quietus. All he could do was curse his demise and all the unfulfilled ambitions that haunted him. He wondered about his darling Guinevere, how she fared, now tasked with ruling Camelot in his stead. He thought of the fate bestowed upon Gaius, the man he had trusted implicitly, who now carried the weight of the living through Pendragon's legacy.

But above all, his thoughts always returned to Merlin. A man he had once known. A man he had once trusted. Arthur imagined Merlin. Perhaps Merlin was so grief-stricken he never used his power again? Maybe he avenged the death of his king. For all Arthur knows, Merlin himself could've died, he too could have been cursed to this desolate ether. 

In reality, the world broke. His world broke. The once and future king, the man destined to unite the land of Albion, through magic and none, is now dead. Merlin, day after day, ran his last moments over. Cursing himself for the way Arthur left this world. If he had just listened to Kilgaraah if he had heeded his advice. If he had disposed of Mordred the first time they had met, the King would stand before him long after. No war would have ensued, and Camelot would no longer be in strife with war.

The day his death was announced to the citizens was a dismal one. Clouds cast over the town square, and the whole of the city gathered to hear the words from the queen herself. Gwen and Merlin stand where Arthur had stood just weeks prior. Where Arthur had announced war, Gwen shall announce the outcome of such a thing. 

“My dearest citizens of Camelot,” Her voice wavers. “It is with a heavy heart that I make this declaration. Our beloved king, Arthur Pendragon, has fallen in battle. The king lives no more. His bravery and dedication to our kingdom will forever be remembered. Let us unite in mourning his loss and uphold his legacy with strength and resilience. May his soul find an eternal peace” A long silence befalls Camelot. The only noise was the occasional strangled sob. Coming from townsmen and nobles alike. The knights stood on only one knee. Taking their solemn oath to the King to heart.

In the months that followed the death of the King, Merlin withdrew into solitude, seeking solace in the quiet corners of Camelot and the vast expanses of the surrounding countryside. Memories of Arthur haunted him—laughter shared over campfires, battles fought side by side, and the unspoken bond of friendship that had defined their lives. He found himself replaying every moment, every decision, wondering if there had been a different path—one that could have spared Arthur's life.

In the privacy of his chambers, Merlin poured over ancient texts and scrolls, searching for clues, signs, anything that might point the way to Arthur's return. His magic, once hidden away in fear of persecution, now burned within him with a fierce intensity—a testament to the depth of his devotion and determination. He thought of his previous journey with Arthur, a trip in which Arthur came back fuming at Uther. A trip where they had met with Ygraine, Arthur's mother.

He wonders what spell Morgause had used to conjure the image. Whether or not the image was manipulated, didn't matter so much to Merlin. If he could only see Arthur one last time. One more day. If he could apologize for his secrecy, if he pledged his allegiance to the king, if he could promise to carry out whatever plan Arthur had for Camelot, he would be content. Merlin had believed that if he could just find the right spell, he could bring back the king. Even if only for a short period.

Deciding this was easy for Merlin. Evoking Arthurs image not so much.

----

OKAY, i promise i will get part two out soon. my hobie fic comes out on sunday so

@maumnuu - this is mainly for you :p