#snow lily kin

[loggiepj]

FORBIDDEN

Part 8 | Part 9

Part 10

WANDA was still shaken to her soul. It took her a couple of hours later to finally stop her fingers from trembling. She swore any time longer, her fingernails would break the skin of her palms from the tight clutch she had with her fists.

The journey back to the camp was silent, anyone could literally hear ice cracking from a distance. The sound of footsteps crunching against the snow was all the exchanges Wanda and Y/n had given to each other. Pepper decided to stay behind.

The witch couldn't tell if the human looked sympathetic towards her, for she knew it wasn't the first time someone died in front of her. But she didn't put much thought into it for she couldn't get the words out of her head. The words she knew would haunt her forever.

Wanda was used to hearing prophecies being told from elder witches, even scribbled in scriptures or rolls, but she had never been given one before. One that was specifically for her. It was like a death sentence, but it wasn't. It wasn't, right?

The words flowed through her mind like a river during summer as she thought about what the elder witch had said to her one more time.

Be wary;

Not everyone is what they portray to be

Betrayal? Of course not. It was so vague. Who couldn't be trusted? The Avengers? The humans? Y/n? No.

To end the great war between flying foxes and soaring eagles

She was sure about this line.

Flying foxes meant bats, which symbolized the cunning witches. So the obvious thing, soaring eagles, would be the humans, the Deviants. But what if Avengers were one of them too?

Is that possible? Do Avengers stray away from their ultimate goal and go against their own kind?

A red spider lily will come after the devil's kin

She didn't know what that meant. But it didn't mean it didn't cross her mind. The Scarlet Witch could be the devil's kin. She'd read books and books about it. If she could only draw her own family tree, she was certain the devil cursed her own to generate an offspring to every generation. This time — her.

"Hey, you okay?" Y/n asked, making Wanda jump from her bed. She had no idea when Y/n appeared in her tent, although she wasn't even sure how she got there herself being preoccupied with all of her thoughts.

Wanda forced a nervous smile, avoiding the human's eyes. She learned humans could tell something was wrong by just looking at the state of the eyes. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Y/n swallowed before taking another step inside her tent. "You just—I thought you were still shaken up about what happened earlier."

"I'm fine, Y/n. It's not the first time I saw someone died in front of me." She busied herself with the books Pepper had lent to her.

Y/n grew silent, closing and opening her mouth at times. Wanda quickly apologized for her response.

"It's okay," Y/n hurriedly added. "I was just worried about you. Pietro too. Steve said she was an elder witch. I knew rumors they give out curses or prophecies to anyone. About the future. That's why Deviants target them the most . . . Did she say something to you?"

Wanda hesitated, remembering the first line. She slowly shook her head. "She was just shaking violently and I panicked. She must have been poisoned so badly."

Y/n seemed to accept her answer. "We're still looking where the Deviants could be getting their supplies from. The poison they lace to their weapons is pretty deadly."

Wanda hummed in agreement, letting an air of silence and awkwardness passed between them.

Y/n clapped her hands together as she began to turn back. "Well, you need to get some rest. I won't be disturbing you for long."

When Y/n pulled the flap of her tent to get outside, Wanda stood. "Y/n, wait!"

"Mm?"

They stared at each other. One's eyes showed concern and confusion. The other one portrayed fear and doubt.

Wanda could just ask Y/n. Could have just told her about the prophecy. But something inside stopped her. The trust she had for humans was still unstable, like sand that could easily be swept away by tiny waves.

"Can you . . . can you tell Pietro to meet me here in five minutes?" Wanda asked instead.

Y/n nodded after a moment. "Yeah, sure."

 

AFTER she sent Pietro to Wanda's tent, Y/n started to grow wary. She knew something happened. She knew the elder witch told Wanda something. And Y/n was dying to find out, no matter how torn she was between betraying the witch's trust or for the betterment of their camp.

Y/n had been sneaking behind Wanda's tent for a while now, trying to make out the whispers she could barely hear inside. She didn't notice someone approach from behind her until a hand ended up on her shoulder. It was Layla.

But the breath of relief she released from seeing the unsuspecting witch was what made her gasping for air for what said witch said next.

"Will you be my other half for Yule?" Layla asked, looking down at the ground as if shy and embarrassed.

Y/n's eyes widened. She had completely forgotten about Yule, what with everything that had happened recently.

To be asked by someone to celebrate Yule was a customary during Winter Solstice. Yule was the time of feasting where the Yule log, basically a massive trunk of any tree, would be burned at the center in front of the pavilion, celebrated with your family and loved ones. If one was unmarried, it was normal to seek someone without ties to go to said event together.

Y/n would be thrilled to go with Wanda. It would be the happiest day of her life.

Except for the fact that it wasn't Wanda who asked her. But Layla.

"Bruce said single normies asked the ones they like to be their partner during Yule celebration. So, I'm asking you to be mine," Layla explained.

Y/n forgot how to think. She looked behind Layla and saw Wanda with Pietro finally coming out of her tent, looking worried as they still discussed in whispers.

"I don't know, Layla," Y/n finally answered. "I'm not really that much good of a companion."

"That's okay," Layla insisted. "You don't have to do anything. You just have to be there."

Y/n kept on looking at Wanda, torn between saying yes and asking Wanda to be hers instead. Wanda, who was set to be married, for Pete's sake, she reminded herself.

Speaking of the devil, as if perfect timing, Vision made an appearance by hugging Wanda behind the back. Wanda seemed agitated, pushing the man off her. But the man only laughed. Y/n thought if they had a fight or something, but when Vision gave her a bouquet of flowers, something inside her  hurt.

So when Y/n turned back to Layla, she nodded with a forced smile. "Yeah, sure. I mean, what's the worse that could happen, right?"

Layla was ecstatic, not expecting the normie to say yes. She giddily jumped, pressing a small kiss on Y/n's cheek before she left, surprising the latter.

 

MEANWHILE, Wanda couldn't seem to get away from the one man she'd wanted to disappear in her life.

"Campers here say that when you're courting someone, they have to give them flowers," Vision went on, pushing the bouquet unto Wanda's hands. "And I'm formally asking you to be my other half to the Yule, as well."

Wanda almost couldn't stomach the disgust she felt at the moment. She knew about the Yule. It was all she heard about from her peers during dinner and breakfast. "You've got to be messing with me right now."

"Wanda, I'm serious. You're single. I'm single, and the best male witch there is in town," he paused when he noticed Pietro scoff. "You've got to give me a chance."

"No, La', na, óxi, what other languages of no don't you understand?"

"I will make the night memorable—"

"It will be the night I want to forget if you're my other half—"

"So is that a yes?"

"What?! No!"

Pietro could only laugh at their interaction and the poor effort Vision was making.

Wanda had no desire to go and celebrate a normie's event, not when she wanted to know what the prophecy meant. She shared it with Pietro, of course. But even he didn't know what it meant. Althought he'd told her something that made her grow wary, that he felt like he'd been watched in the camp.

Wanda had considered it too. Was there a traitor amongst them? Or they were just letting the words from the prophecy affect them that much, making them paranoid against humans?

 

COME YULE night, Wanda was already buried in more books searching for more meaning about the prophecy. Pietro invited her some time earlier to give it a rest for a while, even when it's the last thing she wanted to do.

But it wouldn't hurt just to stretch her legs and take a glance on what the celebration was all about. It wasn't Wanda's first Yule. When she and her brother pretended to appear human as they lived throughout the years, they had become accustomed as to how the event was celebrated. But she'd never experienced it firsthand, always reasoning that she'd rather sleep through the feast or she had a stomachache.

A small smile formed in Wanda's face, her heart swelling at the sight. The camp looked lively filled with exuberant energy and excitement she hadn't seen since staying here. Campers danced and sang around the fire burning the hugest log she had ever seen being sacrificed to burn. It could last until the middle of the day or probably late in the afternoon the following day. Everyone, humans and witches, looked happy, as if nothing happened these past few days. Everyone just danced and sang at the top of their voice and had the time of their lives, trusting that the noise they're creating wouldn't give away the location of the camp. She even recognized the songs they were singing and dancing along to, finding her body swaying with the tunes.

Wanda felt happy, forgetting the prophecy for a moment. Maybe she was just being paranoid. A crowd like this wouldn't betray their kind.

Until her eyes landed on Y/n and Layla. Layla, who had her arms looped around Y/n's neck as they jumped and danced to the song. Y/n who was grinning wide as she laughed and danced with the other, all while her hands were placed on Layla's waist.

All the happiness inside Wanda drained in an instant, as if she was punctured a hole so big, she deflated with nothing but misery left. It didn't help when her eyes drifted to Pietro who was also having the best time of his life with someone she recognized they met from Steve's camp, Monica.

When the song finally ended, Y/n and Layla laughed at each other before the latter moved away to get some drinks. That's when Y/n's eyes met Wanda's gaze.

Wanda could tell she herself must be glaring because the smile on Y/n's face suddenly disappeared, turning into a frown.

Wanda couldn't breathe and she didn't know why. She just knew she needed to get away from there as fast as she could.

The witch just didn't expect to be followed by the one person she was avoiding.

"Wanda, hey!" Y/n called.

Damn, for someone so human, Y/n was fast.

Wanda almost slipped due to a root she didn't notice protruding from the ground. The incident made Y/n reached her deep into the woods.

"Wands, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Wanda wanted to hurt Y/n for hurting her. It wasn't even making sense. She knew Y/n did nothing to physically hurt her, but for the pain she was feeling at the moment, she might as well be stabbed in the heart.

The concern clearly showing on the human's face made Wanda even more furious than before. "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Wanda made a bitter laugh. "Clearly, you have no idea how your actions affect others."

Y/n's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Wanda let out a ragged breath, before shaking her head and stepped away. "You have to go back if you don't want Layla missing you."

Y/n scoffed as she stood her ground but she didn't make any movement to follow the witch. "I don't get why you're mad with Layla. It's not like I'm doing anything forbidden with her."

Wanda stopped as she turned back to glare at Y/n. "What? Are you kidding with me? What do you think we're doing here, Y/n? Those nights we spent together?"

Y/n licked her lips nervously, as if caught in the act. What did Wanda expect anyway? She knew Y/n was a flirt right from the start. "You're one of my close friends, second best to Yelena—"

It triggered an explosion inside Wanda's head. "So you're telling me you do all of these things with Yelena too? Hold hands and talk about the stars in the sky and whatnot?"

"What? No, that's not what I meant—"

"Then why the hell are you not seeing this thing between us?"

"There's nothing between us," Y/n said. "We're just friends. And in case you didn't notice, you were avoiding me these past few days too."

A pause. Unbearable one.

Wanda felt almost close to tears but she didn't let her emotions get to her. "Friends don't do what we do, Y/n. Friends don't hold hands for a long time or lay on the ground in the middle of the night talking about the night sky and everything else. Friends don't stare at each other's eyes and say they had never seen such beautiful ones."

"Wanda—"

"I get it now. You're really actually a flirt, a vile lecherous woman, because you think when you can finally get under my chemise, this will all be over, am I wrong, huh?"

Y/n cornered Wanda against a trunk of a tree. The distance between them made the witch harder to breathe. "How dare you—"

"What? Cause it's true?" she challenged, staring her right in the eye.

Y/n answered in a low angry voice. "You don't know how much I want you that it hurts just to see you and not being able to do the things I wanted to do with you."

Wanda's eyes widened upon the admission, yet the frustration was too much.

"Was I playing too hard to get then, Y/n? That you don't want to chase me anymore—"

"Stop making fun of my feelings—"

"Feelings? What are we? Twelve? You're a sick and proud womanizer—"

"You're a—an attention seeker!"

Wanda scoffed. "You're a whore! A whore whose needs will never be satisfied by a single woman alone!"

Y/n clutched the front of Wanda's tunic. "Take that back! You take that back!"

"Why would I when it's true?"

"I'm not a whore nor a philanderer nor whatever you think I am. You . . . you are more than a witch, you're a deceitful trickster, playing with people's feelings as if we're nothing but mere puppets."

"Ugh! You're so infuriating!"

Wanda pushed herself against Y/n as she pressed their lips together. It was chaos. Deprived mouths drank each other, thirsty for so long. Tongues fighting, teeth clashing against each other, as if proper etiquette was thrown out through the window. Hungry hands grabbing, groping, caressing skin to skin, desperate to touch one another.

Wanda had no idea it was a wonderful feeling — to be kissed by Y/n and to kiss her. Tasting her. Memorizing the softness of her lips. The touch of Y/n's hands against the bare skin between Wanda's trousers and tunic. The warmth from their bodies pressed against each other as Y/n deepened the kiss and pushed her back against the tree.

When Y/n slotted her leg between hers, Wanda couldn't stop a moan from coming out of her mouth.

This made Y/n stop and pull away, realizing what was happening. She shook her head as she muttered small Nos between them.

Wanda walked towards her, her lips swollen and red from kissing. She reached out for the human, yet the human only stepped back further away from her. "Y/n—"

"Wanda, I can't. I can't do this."

"What?" Wanda couldn't get ahold of her feelings any longer. She just wanted to turn back the time, back to finishing what they started against the tree trunk.

Y/n continued. "I can't . . . It's . . . This, whatever this is called, may be normal with you witches, but not me, Wanda. I can't. It's a common misconception too, you know. Some humans want this. I—I just don't."

Confusion settled in, overpowering the lust Wanda felt for Y/n. "What are you talking about?"

Y/n sighed. When tears started brimming in her eyes, Wanda softened. She cautiously approached the human.

"You've already got Vision, Wanda. And it pains me that I can never ever have you like that."

Wanda let out a shaky breath. Y/n quickly wiped a tear from her eyes, as if embarrassed.

"Is this what this was all about? The tension? The hesitations?" Wanda chuckled like crazy into the air.

"Hey, don't laugh at my misfortune." Y/n's strong attitude resurfaced.

Wanda then looked at Y/n, and she couldn't help but feel intense feelings more than before.

"Wanda, I . . . I want you all to myself. But I don't want to be the reason to break your marriage with him. Even when everytime I see you two together, I might have wished myself to be dead. I can't even understand what you see in him. And how you couldn't see how awful he is."

Wanda stepped towards her. "And what do you think should be the one for me?"

Y/n didn't step back. The closer they got, her heart seemed to stop beating. "Someone who looks at you like you're the moon and the stars. Someone who cares about you the way Venus selflessly cared about that hunter. Someone who loves and adores you truly."

Wanda's eyes brim with happy tears as she stopped an inch. She chuckled softly. "For someone so skilled at archery, you have got to suck at catching signs."

"What?"

Wanda grabbed the collar of Y/n's tunic as she pulled her face towards her, the other hand cupping her cheek. Her thumb wiped the wetness from Y/n's tears.

Wanda looked at Y/n with her piercing green eyes, and the gaze never broke.

"I don't know where you heard that silly rumor about me and Vision," Wanda explained. "I also don't know how you could think I'd ever involve myself with that man. But Vision and I are nothing more than mere acquaintances, Y/n."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not together?"

Wanda smiled as she nodded. "We're not together." Her eyes then drifted to Y/n's mouth as she leaned forward. "It's you that I want."

Then she closed the distance between them.

 

MONICA stepped out of Pietro's tent some time later. It was almost dawn yet the place looked dead from the late celebration last night. Monica appeared to be waiting for something as she stood behind the tent, immobile while watching the stars. But it wasn't the stars she was looking at.

A crow suddenly landed on her forearm as she smiled. She whispered something inaudible into the crow before it flew away back into the sky.

The sun might not shine another day on the camp anymore.

taglist :

@bibliophilicbi @swiftie1-0-1 @whitewidowsbite @aliherreraaa @smromanoff @wandanats-goodgirl @supaheroine @eliii1sblog @bananasplits-world @cocoyeehaw @daenerys713

Author's note:

I sincerely apologize for not being able to update regularly. I haven't been in a good place these past few weeks. But still, thank you for reading my story and for waiting too long. :)

[cryptidclaw]

Bro, I would sell my right foot to un-incest Thunderclan canonically:

((Suggestions you can ignore if you dont want them lol))

Stormcloud arrives in the clan after Bramblestar's storm; You could make Snowbush Stormcloud's nephew and have Lily and Snow bond over dead parent trauma (assuming you still would like Lily to be a BrackenSorrel kit); Storm brings Snow to the clan after his mother abandoned him when Benny dies.

Also there are a lot of one-time characters in Warriors; it's possible to make them become a clan cat. Like one of Floss's taken kits becoming Fernsong or Zelda from the Kin becoming Leafshade (very interesting as hell IMO)

Adxffggh i too wish that the warriors inbreeding crisis would be undone 😭

Also I like ur ideas!! Idk how many will work for my plans but I may use some 👀

[pretty-toastie]

Flowers

CW: death (no one dies in the story but a character's family member passed away in the past), brief allusions to trauma and grief

Prompt: “‘Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you've caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the ‘girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft’ and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard’ AU” —awful-aus

———

Sometimes, I take flowers from your garden. You have so many varieties, so many colors, more than any garden I’ve seen before. Every time I see them, I think he would have loved them. He always stopped to peer into strangers’ yards, over white picket fences, to catch a glimpse of technicolor blooms on delicate stalks, of overflowing hanging planters, of butterfly bushes and rhododendrons. I think he would have loved your garden most.

And so, I take flowers from your garden. I stop, on my way, to pick a few—never the largest, never the brightest, because I know he’d chide me if I did. Some days, I pick a small freesia, overshadowed by its neighbors. This one is innocence and thoughtfulness, he told me.

Some days, I pick a tuft of lavender heather, a tuft of white heather. This one is admiration and solitude, and this one is protection and wishes coming true, he told me. They won’t be missed, I think, the gaps they leave in your arrangements filled by the feathery heads of their kin.

Some days, I pick a hydrangea—a different color every time—but only rarely. This one is heartfelt emotions and gratitude, he told me. They are so beautiful. I don’t want your bush to look bare.

Many days, I pick queen anne’s lace, too, poking up between your other flowers. I am not as careful about how much I take. This one is a weed, he told me. Most people don’t want it in their garden. It is haven, sanctuary, complexity, delicateness.

Even though it's a weed, this one is my favorite, he told me.

I pick a single red rose, always, every time. There are always enough—your rose bush is large, beautiful, well taken care of. This one is love, he told me. He pressed the stem of the flower into my palm, his fingers folding around my hand, and the thorns bite my palm even through the clear, crinkly plastic, but I didn’t let go. I love you, Rae, he told me.

Don’t leave me, I said. I need you, I said.

You don’t, he said. You’re strong. I know it’s hard, but you’re strong.

Who will drive me to school? I asked. Who will sit with me and listen to music on the old radio when Mom and Dad are arguing? Who will teach me about flowers and walk with me around the neighborhood and go sledding with me when it snows and– and–

I couldn’t finish the question, because how can you list all the things you’ll miss when your brother is dying? There was only one thing that mattered, really. I would miss him.

You’ll be ok. His voice was too quiet, too quiet. You’re strong.

Don’t leave me. My voice was edged with tears. Please. But he just smiled at me, tired and sad. I held onto the rose, held onto his hand, long after he was gone.

———

Today, I take flowers from your garden. Today I take statices and lilies, snapdragons and forget-me-nots. I am reaching for a rose: The biggest one, which is against my self imposed rule, but today the loneliness is too much, the hole too big, and it feels like it may swallow me whole, so I reach for the biggest rose in your garden.

You give a quiet cough, and I whirl around. I’d never actually seen you before. This garden was just on the way, filled with beautiful flowers, but now you’re here, standing in front of me.

You look younger than I expected, about my age. You have a smattering of freckles across your nose and cheeks. Your eyes are deep brown, your pupils almost indistinguishable. You have short, straight brown hair—cut in a french bob—and you are wearing a straw hat. It looks cute on you, I think, which surprises me. That’s not something I usually think about people. I feel my cheeks warm. My gaze lingers on your lips for what I suspect is too long. I’m certain you notice, but you don’t say anything.

“So you’re the one who’s been stealing my flowers,” you say, and you laugh and it’s hard to breathe.

“Sorry,” I manage, not quite able to meet your eyes.

You laugh again, and my stomach seems to turn over, and my face is hot.

“Don’t worry,” you say, “I don’t really mind. You can take the rose. But you have to tell me your name, and I am going to come with you to make sure the boy those are for is cute enough to warrant flower theft.”

It takes me a few seconds to process your words. You have so many flowers in your garden, but you don’t know what they mean? You think this—I look at the bunch in my hands, go over them one by one: statices for remembrance; lilies, which, more abstract, are connected to death and those that are left behind; snapdragons for graciousness and strength, because he told me I was strong; forget-me-nots for connection despite separation and remembrance after death; and now, as I pull it gently from the bush, you watching over my shoulder, a rose—you think these flowers are for romance?

I don’t know how to tell you, though, so I just murmur “I’m Raegan Bennett- um. Rae for short.” I’m not sure why I say that. He called me Rae, only ever him, but now I can’t help but want you to as well.

“Rae,” you say, as if you are trying the name, seeing how it feels in your mouth. “I’m Abigail Reed. Abby for short.” You wink. “Now, if that’s all, lead the way!” 

You grin at me, and your freckles dance across your cheekbones, and again my stomach flips and my face grows warm and I don’t know how to tell you.

I walk towards the fence gate, left slightly open, but something makes me stop. You have a pot of peonies. These are bashfulness and compassion, he told me. I never noticed them before—they never were what I needed—but now I glance at you, and you roll your eyes, but you are smiling again and my heart is beating too loudly and I pick one. I hold the statices and the lilies and the snapdragons and the forget-me-nots and the rose in one hand. I hold the peony in the other. It looks lonely by itself like that, juxtaposed with the bouquet I’d already carefully chosen. Incomplete. I pick a stalk of purple lilac as well. First love. Next to the peony, it looks… right.

———

We walk together. I lead the way. I worry that you will realise where we’re going, but you don’t seem to. Only minutes before, the ache of missing him felt like it would eat me alive. Today had been one of the hard days. I had barely been able to get out of bed, but now, with you humming some lilting melody I’ve never heard before, with you walking too close to me, with your shoulder brushing against mine every so often—with you, I feel stronger.

When we reach the low stone wall, and instead of walking past, I turn and move through the wrought iron gate, you stop walking, stop humming. You look at me, your eyes full of sympathy and embarrassment.

“Oh,” you say. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t– I didn’t realise– I’ll let you be. I’m sorry.”

You turn, you start to walk away, and I want to reach out and grab your wrist, but my hands are full of flowers, and so I find my voice and I call out “Wait!”

You stop, and I continue talking.

“Abby, please– stay. It’s– it’s easier when I’m not–” I flounder for the words.

“Alone?” you ask, and yes, but also no, that isn’t right, that’s not what I’m trying to say.

“It’s easier with you,” I say, even though it makes no sense, even though I just met you, even though to you I’m just a thief, just an embarrassing assumption you made, just an awkward interaction.

“Ok,” you say, and I can’t tell what you’re thinking, but you keep looking at me and there is something in your gaze that wasn’t there before.

You stand beside me as I crouch down in front of a flat, simple stone. It bears only a name and two years. Connor Bennett. 1986–2008. You stand beside me as I lay the statices and the lilies and the snapdragons and the forget-me-nots and the rose carefully on the stone. You take my now empty hand in yours when I stand back up, hold it while I look at the stone for a time.

And then when I start crying, you pull me into a hug, and I let you. I let myself relax into you, one arm folded between us, the other hanging at my side, the peony and the lilac held loosely. I let myself bury my face in your shoulder for the minutes until my tears are spent. It is only when I quiet, and I am wiping my nose on the sleeve of the too-big sweatshirt that was his once, that I feel my heart start pounding and my face grow warm yet again. I glance away from you, eyes downcast, and mumble a quiet thank you, and in response you catch my hand in yours again, thread your fingers between mine, give a gentle squeeze. You don’t let go. A beat later, you speak softly.

“What about the last two flowers?”

I look back up at you now, at the soft concern held in the wet of your eyes and the wrinkle of your forehead, at the patterns of light and shade that your hat casts over your face, at your hair, at your– at your lips. My heart is beating so quickly, so loudly, that you must be able to hear it.

They’re for you, I want to say. Because you’re the first person I’ve ever felt like this about. Because I’ve never had a crush before, never thought I would, and now here you are and I can’t think clearly when I’m around you, so I picked them for you.

“Rae?” you ask, and I am pulled back to the moment, and I don’t know how to tell you, so instead I say “You look really cute in that hat.”

You laugh, and you are still holding my hand and my heart is pounding and I can’t breathe and then your laughter tapers off and you say “I think you’re cute too, Rae.”

There is something in your eyes when you say it that makes me think, just maybe, you mean it the way I mean it. That when you say you think I’m cute, you mean you like me.

I don’t tell you today. I make up something about grabbing a couple flowers to brighten my apartment since I had permission anyway, and you laugh again, and I am falling.

———

I spend as much time as I can with you, after that. I help you with your garden. To pay you back for the flowers I stole, I lie. I think you know that the reason I give isn’t an honest one, but you let me help anyway. I teach you the meaning of the flowers, feel my heart quicken when I skip over the peonies, feel myself blush when I skip purple lilac. You ask for my advice for more flowers to plant, and I recommend sage and Compacta lavender. You give me flowers to take to the cemetery when I visit it every other Saturday, and I ask you to walk with me until I don’t have to anymore because you just do, and I am falling.

———

One day, when the leaves are turning colors and the air is crisp and fall is coming, when your garden is all mums and calendula and marigold and aster and sunflowers, you are waiting for me outside your garden, leaning against your fence. I tilt my head at you in question as I approach, and you push off the fence and step towards me.

Let’s go pumpkin picking, you say, and it’s a statement, but really you’re asking. Asking if I want to go with you. I say Yes. I say That sounds nice.

There is a corn field next to the pumpkin patch, the stalks swaying slightly in the light breeze, rustling softly. The sky is bright blue, and as we walk further into the field, there are dozens of pumpkins to choose from. We examine each one we come across, laughing at the warty ones and lamenting the pumpkins that are rotted through on the back.

I find a bright red pumpkin, pick it up, carry it over to show you. I think this tomato got confused about what’s supposed to be growing here, I joke, and it is a silly, stupid joke but you laugh anyway, put your hand on my shoulder to steady yourself, and I feel my face grow warm. When we each pick our favorite pumpkins out of the wheelbarrow to weigh, I notice that you take the red one, and I am falling.

———

One day, when the trees are bare and the ground is covered in a dusting of frost, when your garden is full of pansies and glory-of-the-snows and winter jasmine that are only just starting to bloom and there’s no work to do, we sit inside your house all day, curled up under your heavy fleece tie blanket, drinking hot cocoa and watching movies. You ask if I like horror movies, and laugh when I say no. Scaredy cat, you tease. Do you need me to hold your hand?

In the end, we decide on an old romcom, and part way through the movie you find my hand under the blanket and lace your fingers between mine. I glance up at you, startled, my heart beating fast, but you are looking at the screen, your attention on the movie. You take a sip of your cocoa and I try to relax but we are so close together and your hand is soft in mine and I am falling.

———

One day, when everything is in bloom and cherry blossoms cascade from the trees that line main street and I’m not at your gate on Saturday morning because I’ve caught a stomach bug and can barely walk, you come looking for me. You know where I live, by then. I asked you to watch my cat while I was on a work trip back in November. You must remember where the spare key is, because when you see my lights on and my car parked on the street outside and I don’t answer the door, you let yourself in.

You find me in the bathroom, asleep on the floor, wrapped in a towel, and you stay with me until I wake up, let me lean against you, stroke your fingers through my hair, talk to me about your job and your life and random things you know to keep my attention off of being so sick. You hold my hair out of the way when I have to vomit again, and when I finish, panting for air, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, you run a washcloth under warm water and gently clean my face, leaning in just a little closer than you need to, lingering just a little longer.

You stay with me that night, make a breakfast of white toast and banana coins and applesauce for me in the morning. You shrug off my thanks, and when I eat, you watch me as though there’s nothing you’d rather be doing.

When you leave, you give me a stern look. Don’t worry me like that again, you say, and I laugh because you care about me and your scowl is adorable and you are beautiful and I have fallen in love, and you fake a pout, but then you are laughing too.

I start to wonder if you’ve fallen as well.

———

One Saturday evening, when I place my hand on the gate to your yard, ready to leave, you reach out and catch my wrist.

“Rae, I– I don’t want to be alone right now. Today. Today is… not a good day for me, I know that sounds silly–”

But it doesn’t sound silly. I understand. I understand because on the anniversary of my brother’s death, even these seven years later, sometimes I can barely breathe between the sobs, sometimes I feel like I will never be ok again.

“I understand,” I say. You cast your eyes downward, your hat tipping forward, shadowing your face. Your hand slides down my wrist into my hand.

“I’ll stay,” I say more quietly.

And that night, when I lay with you in your bed, hold you while you drift to sleep, that morning, when you wake up to find my head laid on your chest, your legs entwined with mine, your arms now around me– I think that’s when we both knew.

After a breakfast of silence and red cheeks and glances and stares and avoiding eye contact, we go out to your garden, and I pick a bunch of dandelions that are opening their yellow heads atop stalks that force their way through any free space they can find, of buttercups that dot the few still-grassy parts of your yard, of daffodils and bright sunshine chrysanthemums. I don’t pick them for any specific meaning, but for the fact they are golden and glowing in the morning light in a way that feels like how I feel when I look at you. I add to the bunch a single peony and a single stalk of purple lilac.

I find you digging out a plot that has filled with weeds in the last weeks, a couple weaker plants choked out. You have already planned an abundance of new flora to grow here. When you see me, you stop, wipe your brow, lean on your shovel. Mud splatters the cuffs of your jeans and soil covers your hands. Your hat is tilted at an angle on your brow. You are wearing a tank top, simple, black, and you have gotten a smudge of dirt across your forehead, and you look beautiful.

I lay the flowers out on the ground, sit down, and you watch me, a little smile on your face. In the warmth of the late morning, I weave a crown of sunshine for you, pick up the peony and the lilac. I stand, lift your hat off of your head, and set it onto mine. You laugh, adjust it, and then smile at me, and there is something so genuine about that smile that I almost melt, that I feel my knees go weak. I reach up and set the crown of flowers on your head, and you strike a pose like a model at a photoshoot, and you look radiant. Your pose dissolves into giggles, and you grab my arms to steady yourself, lean your forehead against mine.

When your laughter subsides, you lift your head up, let your arms fall to your sides. The peony and the lilac, clutched in my hand, catch your eye.

“What about the last two flowers?” you ask, quiet, an echo of the last time I picked them, the first time we met. I’ve taught you the meaning of every other flower in your garden by now, every flower but these two.

We are standing too close, your nose only a few inches from mine. I take a breath.

“A peony for compassion and– and bashfulness, and a purple lilac for– um. For first love,” I say. I can’t meet your eyes. My heart is hammering against my ribcage like it might break free, but I want to tell you, so I keep going, force myself to keep going. “For the girl who held a stranger at her brother’s grave. For the girl who caught me stealing her flowers and stole my heart. For the girl cute enough to warrant continued flower theft. For–” I pause, stumble on my words, realising how corny they must sound. How many times have I thought this over? Rehearsed this confession?

“They’re for you,” I finish, my voice barely audible, my hand trembling as I lift the flowers up, look down at the ground. I hold my breath, don’t dare to hope for your response. There is a pause in which the only sound I can hear is my heartbeat, and then I feel your fingers slip between mine, pressing the stems of the flowers between our palms, and then I feel your touch at my chin, tipping my head up so I am looking at you.

Your gaze is fixed on me, and I stand there, nervous, frozen by your touch. “Abby–” My voice trembles. “Abby, say something, is that, is that– um. What do you– what do you think, Abby please say something, do you–”

Your hand, still on my chin as I spoke, drops now to the collar of my shirt, and you pull me into a kiss, cutting off my anxious ramblings. I am surprised at first, caught off guard, uncertain, but after a moment I relax into it, and my free hand moves to the back of your head, tangles itself in your hair.

Then you’re pulling away, and a little noise slips out of me, partway between a gasp and an “Oh,” and my cheeks burn red and you grin, smug, at the sound you dragged from my lips.

“I love you too, Rae,” you murmur, and then, in the late summer heat, you kiss me again.

———

These days, I take flowers from our garden. When I get home from work and you haven’t yet, I go out to our yard and pick your favorite blooms. I add a single peony and a single purple lilac to the bouquet, and they stand out against the sunshine yellows of the daffodils and chrysanthemums and buttercups and dandelions. I leave them in a vase on our kitchen table, and when you see them, you smile.

These days, we sit on our couch, leaf through catalogues and scroll through websites, looking at flowers and colors and dresses for our wedding. We get married in the New York Botanical Garden, surrounded by blossoms of every color.

We have fallen, both of us, and oh how lovely it is.

[underwxrldprincess]

🐈‍⬛ About me 🗡️

Coucou! My name is Bianca (she/they), and I'm 21 years old.

Other facts about me:

🥀 autistic

🥀 black swan Patronus

🥀 Cabin 13

🥀 cat person

🥀 French, Italian, and Korean

🥀 genderfluid

🥀 history student

🥀 Horned serpent

🥀 INTJ

🥀 kins Nico di Angelo and Regulus Black

🥀 Ombrelune

🥀 Slytherin

Fandoms:

🪐 Disney

🪐 Harry Potter

🪐 Les Misérables

🪐 Marauders

🪐 Miraculous Ladybug

🪐 Percy Jackson/Riordanverse

I love:

🖤 advocating for the Hispanic/Latino and Jewish communities

🖤 astronomy

🖤 black cats

🖤 desserts/sweets

🖤 Félix Fathom

🖤 Greek mythology

🖤 history (especially British history)

🖤 jellycat bunnies

I hate:

🌑 ab*sive parents

🌑 bigotry

🌑 Colt Fathom

🌑 disrespecting my boundaries

🌑 inhumanity

🌑 loud noises

🌑 not taking "no" for an answer

🌑 oppressive people

My favourites:

☕️ actor: Timothée Chalamet

☕️ aesthetics: dark academia and goth

☕️ animals: cats, peacocks, rabbits, ravens and swans

☕️ authors: Hans Christian Andersen, Lewis Carroll, and Victor Hugo

☕️ book: Les Misérables

☕️ children's books: Sleepovers and The Worst Thing About My Sister

☕️ classical pieces: Papageno's Aria and Salut d'Amour

☕️ colours: black and silver

☕️ countries: Denmark, France, Israel, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Moldova, South Korea, and the United Kingdom

☕️ Disney animal: Marie

☕️ Disney man: Adam/the Beast

☕️ Disney girls/women: Alice and Elsa

☕️ drink: black tea

☕️ films: Darkest Hour, The Collini Case and The King's Speech

☕️ flower: lily of the valley

☕️ food: sushi

☕️ fruit: peach

☕️ gemstone: amethyst

☕️ Golden Trio era character: Luna Lovegood

☕️ Greek gods: Apollo, Ares, Artemis, Athena, Hades, and Hermes

☕️ Harry Potter next gen character: Scorpius Malfoy

☕️ historical figure: Winston Churchill

☕️ ice cream flavor: green tea

☕️ kwami: cat or peacock

☕️ Marauders era characters: Andromeda Black, Barty Crouch Jr., Dorcas Meadowes, James Potter, Narcissa Black, Regulus Black, and Sirius Black

☕️ Miraculous Ladybug characters: Adrien Agreste, Alix Kubdel, Amélie Graham de Vanily, Émilie Agreste, Félix Fathom, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Luka Couffaine, Nathalie Sancoeur, and Zoé Lee

☕️ mlm ships: Jegulus and Solangelo

☕️ mythical creatures: elves, fairies, mermaids/sirens, and vampires

☕️ place: the Louvre

☕️ planets: Pluto and Uranus

☕️ Riordanverse characters: Bianca di Angelo, Jason Grace, Luke Castellan, Nico di Angelo, Piper McLean, Thalia Grace, and Zoë Nightshade

☕️ Sanrio characters: Chococat and Kuromi

☕️ season: winter

☕️ shows: Chloe's Closet and Miraculous Ladybug

☕️ straight ships: Adrinette, Feligami, and Tedromeda

☕️ superheroes: Argos and Loki

☕️ wlw ship: nobleflower

Q&A:

Q: What's in your bag?

A: Book, charger, compact mirror, hair ties, laptop, snack, star hairclips, and my wallet.

Q: What's your Enneagram?

A: Probably either a 1, 4 or 5. Most INTJs are 1 or 5, but I have high Fi for an INTJ (hence the 4). I thought I was a 1w9 for a while, but apparently I don't have a lot of 9 traits. I might be a 5w4.

Q: Describe your style.

A: The more I stand out, the better! I'm not a T-shirt and sweatpants girly (if anything I don't even own a T-shirt or sweatpants, I'm not even joking).

I usually wear small black tops in the summer and Regulus Black-style sweaters in the winter. I wear a lot of black. I like jeans as much as I like plaid skirts with fishnet tights. I usually wear either black boots or green Converse sneakers.

And accessories and jewelry! Bracelets, caps, earrings, chokers, fingerless gloves, rings, you name them! I feel naked without them. I do only wear silver, though, and never gold. I also wear black nail polish.

Q: What kind of weather do you like?

A: Sunny when I'm outdoors but cloudy/rainy when I'm indoors. Snow is always good. In general, I prefer the cold over the heat.

Q: Would you like to have any children in the future? Do you have a gender preference? If so, what would you like to name them?

A: Only if I meet the right person to raise them with. In the meantime, I'm in the process of healing from some of my parents' abuse and neglect. Also if I do, I'll only adopt or foster because I don't want to get pregnant.

I don't have a specific gender preference: if anything I want a daughter AND a son. I'm dead-set on the names Amélie and Félix (I haven't thought of second or third names yet). But I'll support them if they end up identifying as transgender and/or choose to go by another name.

Q: What do you see yourself doing in the future?

A: Hopefully continue singing, writing and creating content on social media. I also want to start modeling.

More personally, I want to move out of home, heal my inner child, and be the person I was meant to be before the abuse.

Q: What's on your wish list?

A: Clothes from Hot Topic, Duusu plush, goth dresses, jellycat bunnies, more Riordanverse books, plane tickets, platinum blonde skunk streaks in my hair, Slytherin merch, and The Best Sleepover in the World book.

Q: What are your hobbies?

A: I listen to music, read, sing, write, and obviously create content for social media. I would love to re-learn ballet, figure skating, and the piano though, I did them when I was a kid but would love to explore them again.

Q: If you could choose, which kwami would you want?

A: Probably either the butterfly or snake. It would be nice to give power to those who don't have the power, put oppressors under my control, and go back in time to reverse mistakes.

Q: What kind of music do you listen to?

A: Mostly either Disney or musicals - I know the Les Misérables and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame soundtracks by heart. I also listen to classical, opera/operatic pop, and 70s pop.

Q: What do you look for in a significant other?

A: I'd prefer someone who's more different from me than similar: Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, with James Potter and/or Will Solace vibes.

I also think that having the same hobbies/interests is nice, but I wouldn't mind someone who is more sporty, as long as they also like some of the other things I like. After all, I would still want some alone time in a relationship.

I do, however, think that having the same values is very important for a lasting relationship, especially since I care a lot about human rights. For example, I could never date someone who's anti-Zionist.

Hypothetically, I think blondes are gorgeous, but I usually fall for brunettes. But I'm honestly not picky about looks - I care more about overall vibes, personality, and values.

Q: What's your sexuality?

A: I identify as aroace, with little romantic attraction to men and little sexual attraction to men and women. But I'm a virgin and have never been in any kind of relationship, let alone been on a date or kissed anyone, so mostly I just think of myself as aroace.

Q: How do you take your tea?

A: English breakfast tea with one sugar packet.

Q: If you merged the ladybug and cat miraculouses, what would you wish for?

A: In the words of Argos: "a better world, a free world, where no one will be under anyone's control anymore, where no one will be excluded like I was."

Q: Who is a woman you admire?

A: Princess Alice of Battenberg. She was deaf but learned to speak several languages, and helped Jewish refugees escape during the Holocaust.

Q: What would you want to be named if you were a man?

A: Adrien. It means "dark," which I feel like suits me.

Q: If you had to be born as a different nationality in your next life, what would you choose?

A: British or Israeli.

Q: If you had to be sorted into a Hogwarts house other than Slytherin, where would you be sorted into?

A: Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

Boundaries:

♟️ableism/antisemitism/homophobia/racism/sexism/transphobia = immediate block

♟️As I mentioned previously, I am genderfluid, so I will update my labels/pronouns when necessary.

[theforgottencrow]

+*MASTERPOST // INTRO?!*+

【 Welcome to my blog/the nest!】

✸ you may address me as Ink, Corv, or relatively anything else!

✸ friends and moots may call me Crow or whatever else they desire as well!

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

updated 11-11-2024

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

【 other blogs 】

✸ @theforgottencorvid is simply my art reblog account

✸ @crowcalling is my nsfw/suggestive blog

✸ @the-doodlesphere-system Separate blog for my system, this technically isn’t my blog and is for our alters so that they can make posts and not crowd my blog with them as result. It is currently still a W.I.P

【 other socials 】

✸ Bluesky

【 About me 】

Firstly, I present some of my flags

(Theres so many more...)

My main prnz : Xe/Crow/Paint/Ink/Bite, I also use Blood/Gore/Bone/Fang/Pest/Knife/It/Static/Etc. (How to use Xe/xem prns Here)

My very special interest is Undertale + Utmv !! (Pretty obv..)

Proud Furry <3

I’m a Polymorph/Polykin Therian. I am CrowKin, DragonKin, CrocodileKin, (+more kins), my other theriotypes are Snow leopard, Lynx, Coyote, GreenTree Python, Griffin, Fox, etc.

I'm an Irl + Fictkin (Ink sans, etc) !!!

I petre sometimes! Often times I am a crow, cat, or dog! And I purr and chirp/caw even out of petre <3

I unapologetically ship the most toxic abusive ships I can, and idc <333

My birthday is August 23rd <3

Bi-Oriented Polyamorous Aegosexual Aro/Ace ✨

I have 9 beautiful handsome partners 💕

I deeply love my soulmate/husband/QPP @/wardenruins, he doesn’t post stuff, he just on tumblr so that he can spy on my stuff, but ye, love you Warden <333

Trans (F->M) Who still comfortably identifies as a Butch ✨⚔️

I’m Agender, Xenogender & Neogender ✨

I LOVEEE Mascot Horror/Creepy games !! A few of my favs are Indigo Park, Kinitopet, Poppy Playtime, Little Nightmares, Dark Deception, Amnesia, Omori, Finding Frankie, Pressure, Fnaf, Etc.

German is my native tongue but I’m also completely fluent in English, and I speak Dutch and slight Spanish as well :D

I HAVE A SKELE/KINSONA !! You can find its ref riiiight here i'll be drawing myself as it often and if not xem my Monster Sona riiight here. I also have an eldritch sona but I’m too scared of my own community (monster fuckers) to show it…

I LOVE LOVE LOVE MY MOOTS/FRIENDS/PARTNERS !!!!!!

✸ Rest of Intro under the cut ✸

【 Bonus stuff 】

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ A few of my other hyperfixations are : Objectified, Regretavator, Hellsing, Scott Pilgrim, QSMP, PC, Bugbo, Class of 09, TBHK, CVW, TSATWON, Sweet Tooth, Trigun, Highcard, Kenny The Shark, Pressure, Phighting!, LOA, GASA4, Cult of the Lamb, Alfred’s Playhouse, Bee & Puppycat, HAND, Fe, Dungeon Meshi, FnF, CoS, DHMIS, FPE, Indigo Park, The D!ckheads, Souris, Bojack Horsemen, Tuca & Birdie, TDFWM, B & B, Flawless, Dandy’s World, Extinction is Forever, SHELTER, OWH, Welcome Home, Inanimate Insanity, etc.

꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱

Some of my fav bands/artists : Mindless Self Indulgence, Lemon Demon, Femtanyl, Rio Romeo, Alex G, Pompey, Will Wood/Will Wood and the Tapeworms, Fish in a Birdcage, Tally Hall, TV Girl, Lemon Demon, Salv the Dog, MAILPUP, Mother Mother, Jack Stauber, Vane Lily, Jazmin Bean, The Dresden Dolls, That Handsome Devil, Odetari, Penelope Scott, Ivycomb Music, Cave Town, BoyWithUke, Derivakat, Baby Bugs, Ryan Mack, Etc.!

꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱

Some of my fav Songs : Fuck the Supreme Court, Pure as a Lamb, I Should've Stayed Home, LOVESICK CANNIBAL!, Two Moons, Haha Hi, Rockstar, Nosedive, P3t, Seriously?, I/Me/Myself, Charlie’s Inferno, Your graduation, Choke it out!, PUPPYPLAY!, Wet, I deserve to bleed, I’m so crazy for youuu </3, People eater, My alcoholic friends, Butch 4 Butch, Fish in a Birdcage, Stalkers Tango, Stupid MF, Dogmatica, Shut me Up, Fine Great, Get It Up, Devil Town, This is Home, Etc.!

꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱꒰ ･ ｡ﾟ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ ꒱

Some Fandoms I'm In !! : Undertale, Utmv, Objectified, Deltarune, QSMP, PC, WoF, WC, FPE, Indigo Park, Bojack Horsemen, Tuca & Birdie, Class of 09, Kenny The Shark, FnF, Trigun, CVW, DHMIS, Horrid Henry, Alfred’s Playhouse, LackaDaisy, Tmnt/Rottmnt, COTL, HAND, TSATWON, TOH, Sweet Tooth, Dungeon Meshi, Phighting!, Pressure, GASA4, Amphibia, Ramshackle, BBU, Owls of Ga'hoole, Welcome Home, PP, Hellsing, WOTHH, Bee & Puppycat, Wednesday, Doom & Gloom, HH & HB, Pokemon, MD, Tadac, Monkey Wrench, Bluey, Sarah & Duck, Puffin Rock, Dandy’s World, Spooky Month, Fnaf, LMK, Animaniacs, Etc.

【 A few tags 】

══════════════════

#My Art - Art !!

──────

#Crow reblogs - Reblogs !!

──────

#Not Utmv - stuff/reblogs that aren’t Utmv

──────

#Crow Rambling - my weird rambles/random talking

──────

#Crow Chatter - Me Interacting w/ ppl & answering asks

──────

#inbox doodles - little doodles made for inbox answering

──────

#Crow Simping - fawning over characters I deem hot.

──────

#HEAVY Crow Simping - foaming at the mouth blue balled over a character

──────

#F r i e n d 🫵 - Me interacting w/ my friends/Moots !!

──────

#Crow on Crack - Me saying out of context things/or me being weird or I’m on crack /j)

──────

#Crow depression hour - Me being depressed

──────

#Crow Vents - Me venting, vents will have different colors for different intensities of them, Red being very heavy topics that could have quite a few context warnings. Orange being semi heavy but not as bad. Green being no heavy topics and fairly light weight stuff. If you don’t wanna see vents, block the tag.

══════════════════

¸„.-•~¹°”ˆ˜¨ DNI if you/you’re a : ¨˜ˆ”°¹~•-.„¸

Lgbtq+ Phobic of any kind.

LITTLE KID (ppl under 12/13, basically if your not old enough to be on this site), I honestly would really prefer you not be on my blog as I have VERY vulgar language and honestly spread that shit around like wildfire.

Transphobic, Xenophobic, Etc...

Racist, Sexist, Discriminate, etc.

Invalidate a Person's Pronouns / Gender / Identity

Pedophile, Sexualize Minors, Joke about Rape, etc.

Pro-Isreal.

Harass, Dox, tell ppl to kys, etc.

AntiFurry.

ZOOPHILE.

MAP.

extremely problematic, aka ppl who cause problems on purpose and just in general.

ship Errorberry/Error x Swap, this is more of a joke but istg if you bring that SHIT up to me I will most likely block you. Regardless of our status.

Corvid hater of any kind, I’m so srs abt this fuck offf <333

Anti-Blm

Pro/Com/Neut

Anti-Petre/Agere/Etc

Anti-Therian/Nonhuman/alterhuman/Etc

think trauma is a joke & belittle it.

think neurodivergent ppl w/ BPD, Bipolar, etc are “Scary” and don’t belong.

One of my Exes!!! Fuck you kehehe I’m making out passionately with your mom aaaand best friends <333 that’s about the major people I will block! I also might have forgotten a few things/people who I DNI but uhh- I’m sure I’ll remember later :) Other than that I will freely block who I decide to and curate my own content! :)

⊱ ──────ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ──────⊰

╭────── · · · · ──────╮

【 Before you interact 】

╰────── · · · · ──────╯

I have Autism + Alexithymia, Depression, Anxiety, ADHD, DID & BPD

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

We’re a DID system and use We/I/Me/Ours/Etc pronouns. i don't talk about my DID often because its kinda awkward :”). Our Alters consist of Ink, Lust, CANON C!Nightmare, Error, Cross, Killer, Passive, Minus Garcello, Selever, Shrimpo, Sebastian, p.AI.nter, and Eyefestation, And many more. Some of us do not act the exact same as our source. I am also in almost complete control of this sack of flesh xP. 99% of the time I’m co-fronting with Ink!! *Ink might get paints own text tags one day if they ask*

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

Tone tags are VERY VERY preferable! I am tone def a lot of the time so please use tone tags otherwise I will take it the wrong way and start to p a n i c

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

Yes I can be cringe and idc :)

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

I am VERY silly, expect maximum silliness from me at all times.

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

If you’re are uncomfortable with something you see block the tag and move on do not harass me.

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

We tend to make random remarks, say out of pocket things, have trouble w/ volume control/typing in all caps, making inappropriate jokes, flirt & tease (w/ my close close friends/moots) if you ever get disturbed by this please let us know & we’ll stop.

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚.

I'm fine w/ tags, comments, & spam-likes/reblogs! They make me rlly happy ^^

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

Inbox is always open! You can be as silly as you want or say the most random stuff! 99.99% of the time I’ll also answer with a little doodle! And if u want me to remember you add a little signature! Ex : 💥 anon or smth like that :D! 𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

My DMs are always open too !! I love love love meeting new people and making friends (I DONT BITE!!!!) :]

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

I might spam-like (I get a lil excited sometimes..especially if I REALLY like your stuff, if you don't like this please let me know and I'll stop!!)

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

We do make suggestive jokes and we are hypersexual but that doesn't mean we’re not sex-replused most of the time.

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

I'm Nonhuman !! Pls do not refer to me as human. I prefer Skeleton terms & Crow terms over everything else. I physically and mentally identify as Ink Sans

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

We tend to make random remarks, say out of pocket things, have trouble w/ volume control/typing in all caps, making inappropriate jokes, flirt & tease (w/ my close close friends/moots) if you ever get disturbed by this please let us know & we’ll stop.

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚 All flirting and teasing we do is NEVER romantic. If we do these things with you they are purely us being silly, never showing romantic interest. Do not think otherwise. If you do you’re blocked Immediately.

𐙚⭑𓂃────────𓂃⭑𐙚

I am VERY Blunt. And might say something rude or offensive and if I do please let me know because my Alexithymia makes it hard for me to understand if I upset people.

╭────── · · · · ──────╮

【ＢＯＵＮＤＡＲＩＥS: 】

╰────── · · · · ──────╯

Please do not ask personal info/give about me unless I'm willing to give or I give permission. This includes Name, Age, Basic stuff like that.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

please do not mention topics of rape, sexual assault, plushophilla, grooming, Addiction, Animal mutilation/Murder, etc. these are very triggering topics for me and make me remember events forced on me in my life I do not want to remember.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

Please do not repost/Trace my art without permission.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

Please do not send mockery or slander of any of my Interests/hyperfixations/friends or partners. It will not be tolerated and will result in a immediate block.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

Unless I asked for it, please do not randomly give me criticism on something.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

Don’t involve me/talk to me about ship discourse. I genuinely do not give a fuck as long as no one is getting hurt. I know who I follow and choose to interact with, I will cater my own experience online.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

My blog, my rules!! <3333

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

【 Extra : 】

I work at a store M -> F, so I won’t be on too often on those days :)

-----

Art requests are open and always open! Feel free to ask for whatever you like, ocs are included! I still have the right to delete a request if I’m not comfortable with it tho ^^

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

more may be added in time.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

E

CROSS IS TRANS WOOOOOOO

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

(Credits for dividers bc I forgot those:)

@/Sister-Lucifer for checkered belt div

@/Fundamentalpapereducationrp for Art supplies/Fpe div

@/Sweetparty for blood div

@/Inklore for hazard & circle star div

@/Elryisia for star div

unfortunately I do not remember the creators for the mini skull div or the skulls + checkerstar div, but if u know pls tell me so I can tag <:D

[caramel-covered-apples]

thanks for the tag pooks! <3

favorite characters: marlene mckinnon & remus lupin

favorite romantic ships: wolfstar, jegulus, rosekiller, dorlene

favorite platonic ships: moonwater (regulus & remus), prongsfoot, the valkyries all together they’re so rhahdhrehdh

rare pair i like: NOBLEFLOWER. narcissa x alice. you don’t know how much i love this ship. it’s just so horribly tragic and heartbreaking and it makes me cry

favorite headcanon for a character: hoo boy. peter and lily are plus-sized. also- the marauder’s animagus form affected how animals treated them irl. for example, because peter’s animagus form was a rat, crows would often peck at him and he’d be hissed at by cats. and james, being a stag, would be essentially the prince of the forest and lots of smaller animals (squirrels, birds) would approach him like Snow White. Sirius teases them on this relentlessly.

characters i kin: i don’t really kin, i don’t get it, but i’d do marlene.

tags: @scrxpz @yearning4life @outromoony and anybody else who’d like to join!

Okeyyy do this and tag the moots

marauders fandom get to know me

favorite character(s): Evan, Emmeline

favorite romantic ship: Rosekiller

favorite platonic ship: Regulus & pandora

a rarepair you really like: Rosestar, Bartylily

your favorite hc for any character: Evan loves anything strawberry (flavored, scented, ect)

what character you kin: Evan

@aesthetic-writer18 @starcrossedmoony @regulus-smith @accio-atticus @my-castles-crumbling @foxalade and anyone else!

[kinsesthetic]

aesthetic for snow lily with glitter, love themes, pink and butterflies !

( click image for better quality )

@stormyweed

[seashorekin]

Oops... a vent

[ovenbreakerkinnies]

♡ an anonymous requested: “ Could I get a lovecore stimboard for a White Lily with a lot of white. (If that makes sense) ” ♡

♡ mod lime.

[gorogues]

Spoilers for this week’s episode of Stargirl!

A lot happens in this episode, as can be expected in a series finale. Let's go through it! This is long and spoilery, so it's behind a cut.

There's a flashback to the Ultra-Humanite's brain being put into Sylvester's body nine months ago…and it's even more horrible than anticipated. The Dragon King and Icicle actually revived Sylvester from death, so he was alive but strapped to an operating table, and then they cut into his skull while he was still conscious and fretting about what they'd potentially done to Pat. So he clearly did care about Pat, even if he was kind of an ass about it sometimes. And things get worse: near the end of the episode, we see that someone's preserved Sylvester's brain somewhere and it's reliving his last moments of worrying about Pat and screaming in pain over and over. Holy shit is that ever dark.

Jordan Mahkent tells Cameron that Pat Dugan was murdered by the Ultra-Humanite, and Sofus says in Norwegian not to lie to the boy. Lily tells him in Norwegian to shut up and that he's an old fool, which is surprisingly hostile of her (for all her cruelties, she seemed to care about him), but Jordan continues manipulating his son and asks him to call Courtney and tell her that Starman is at the junkyard. Cameron knows he's not being truthful to her but does it anyway, presumably due to his family's prompting that the group of them can end this war if they team up to fight the Ultra-Humanite.

Meanwhile, Pat thankfully digs himself out of his grave. And Cindy, Jakeem, and Mike are pursued by the Dragon King in the Ultra-Humanite's body. Cindy takes on her dad with her blades, but she's little match for someone in such a large strong body.

Thanks to Cameron's phone call, the JSA goes to the junkyard and meets the Mahkents + the Ultra-Humanite (in Sylvester's body). Jordan and the U-H tell Courtney that Pat is dead and want to team up with her to get justice, but she doesn't believe them (good judgment, honestly). Fortunately Pat soon shows up in S.T.R.I.P.E., which causes the U-H to flip out with rage and attack, very much blowing his cover. There's soon a knock-down brawl between the Mahkents and the JSA, and between Pat and the U-H. Sofus and Beth square off again, but both quickly admit they don't want to fight, and Lily is furious that her husband doesn't want to kill the kids. She threatens to kill him herself if he doesn't join the battle, but she ends up crushed to death by a fallen car.

Jakeem channels the power of the Thunderbolt and saves Cindy from near death by transforming the Dragon King into a stuffed toy, proving that he's the rightful owner of the pen by being able to wish effectively despite his recent wishes being vague.

Jordan threatens to kill Courtney if she won't join him, but Barbara intervenes by shooting him with the crossbow Paula Crock had been teaching her to use. It doesn't kill him, but Courtney takes the Staff back due to Barbara's urging; it seems that the U-H was able to use it due to Courtney's belief that it belonged to him. Once she accepts that he isn't Sylvester and that it's hers, she's able to retake it from him. She uses the Staff to burn Jordan's face.

Pat and the U-H nearly kill each other in their brawling, but finally Pat brains his enemy with a rock and knocks him unconscious. It's extremely upsetting to him to see his friend's body being used for evil by a monster…I don't know if it's for the better or the worse that he doesn't know Sylvester's last (and continued) thoughts are for his well-being.

Cameron's clearly terrified about what his father will do and tries to stop him from hurting Courtney, but Jordan tells him not to force him to do what Brainwave did: kill his own son. Courtney tells him what a piece of shit he is for saying that, so Jordan says that either Cameron does what he has to, or Jordan will. Cameron attacks him with a blast of power and we see Jordan enveloped in a ton of ice/snow before some kind of icy version of him seems to rise out of it, screaming.

Sofus isn't looking too good, so Cameron tells the JSA that he's taking his grandfather to safety and he's leaving forever. He acknowledges that he betrayed Courtney and his own family, which is obviously very hard on him, but Courtney says she can help. Regardless, he and Sofus disappear in some kind of explosion of ice/snow.

And the rest of the episode is about wrapping up most of the loose ends. Rick apologizes to Beth's parents for acting like a jerk, and Beth officially asks them to help her and be her sidekicks. They're very enthusiastic about it, and end up giving themselves codenames.

Sylvester's body is still alive in hospital, but had a serious brain bleed and the Ultra-Humanite's brain is basically dead. Pat decides to keep him on life support in the hopes that the real Sylvester can be recovered somehow, and as we see, his brain is still alive elsewhere in shocking condition.

Rick goes to Grundy's grave in the woods, saddened that the big guy hasn't come back despite all the others returning from the dead. However, Grundy's arm suddenly digs its way out of the grave, possibly due to his friend saying he misses him.

Courtney gives the Gambler's daughter the letter written for her, which is clearly an emotional experience for her and she thanks Courtney. Yolanda sees everyone happy and calls her mother to admit she'd been lying to her, and hopefully explains why she did it so her mother will ideally chill out…we don't see her do that, though she seems tearfully happy afterward so it appears to have gone well.

And Courtney stands outside the Mahkent home, looking on while it begins to snow. Cameron is there and asks if she really can help him, and they hug. Mike meets up with his biological mother for the first time in years and has an enjoyable chat with her, but he still calls Barbara "Mom" when he returns.

Then there's a flash-forward to three months later, in Copenhagen. Jordan's out alone when he hears someone whisper his name, and then steps in some weird sticky goop. Artemis is there, and tells him it's a flammable substance her father used to put it in his explosive hockey pucks, and then she lights it. Jordan is burned alive, and as she says, he shouldn't be able to come back from this. She's almost certainly correct, as we saw that some of his ancestors were burned in Europe, and it probably doesn't allow them to turn into water or escape as some kind of cold/ice vapour like he'd clearly done in the junkyard. Jordan is probably dead.

And then there's another flash-forward to ten years later, at the JSA museum. The Shade is cheerfully giving a tour and telling the visitors about the history of the modern JSA. Courtney is now Starwoman, Cindy is now Dragon Queen, Todd and Jennie and Sand are part of the team, as are Icicle and Artemis (presumably Cameron and Artemis Crock). As are Jakeem, the Shade, Damage, and an unknown Stripe 2.0 (Mike?). Rick and Beth are soon to be married by the Shade himself, and Solomon Grundy tags along with them. The JSA have rescued the Seven Soldiers of Victory from the Nebula Man in an adventure which will presumably go unseen, and it's a nice nod because we never did see the Shining Knight after he went off to find his old teammates at the end of first season. And, the JSA has somehow brought the real Sylvester Pemberton back to life.

Then a rift opens, and Jay Garrick (John Wesley Shipp) runs right through the big JSA table. You may recall that Jay's helmet was seen during the fatal ISA attack in the premiere episode and he was presumed dead, but clearly he wasn't! Shade is surprised to see him, but Jay says that he and the JSA are needed, at which the Shade grumbles that their adventures are never over. The series finishes with "Never the end", so maaaaaaybe I'll get my wish that there'll be a special later on, or perhaps a comic which tells more stories in this `verse. We can hope.

A pretty satisfying finish, in my opinion. One wonders how they rescued Sylvester's brain and how he's doing now after that awful experience, which would be traumatic for anyone. It's good to know that Artemis and Cameron will become heroes (Cindy and the Shade too), but I wouldn't want to be around if/when Artemis ever told the others about what happened to Jordan. Artemis and Cameron are a couple in the comics, but there'd be a lot of uncomfortable family baggage if they ever got together in the show. I still want to know if the Mahkents are Frost Giants :] And while we don't get to see the adventures of Jennie, Todd, the Shade, and Sand working and learning together, they obviously do meet up and form bonds and become JSA members in their own right, which is a good feeling.

I'll really miss this series, as it's the show I've enjoyed the most over the past few years. I'd love it if DC made a standalone episode or movie to give us some more adventures, but maybe that's what fic is for. It is nice to know there are relatively happy endings for most of the crew, at least as of ten years from now; one never knows what fifteen or twenty years later have in store for superheroes. But I'm glad they were able to rescue Sylvester after all the terrible things which happened to him, and hopefully he and Pat made peace as friends. He was a jerk sometimes in life, but didn't deserve any of the torture Icicle and co dealt to him.

Also: while I'm sorry we didn't get more Jay in the show, it's great to have him return at the end! That was a hell of an entrance.

[honeybee-bunnybee]

the snow falls among the trees...

xenovamp asked: could you make a snack kit for a vegan skogkatt kin?

here you go, friend!! hope you like it!

vegan teriyaki ($4.39) ♡ pretzel nuggets ($5.69) ♡ cookies ($5.49)

vegan pork rinds ($4.09) ♡ fruit snacks ($4.09) ♡ chocolate lily seeds ($5.49)

[doki-doki-kinnie-club]

"I'm so glad you're joining the literature club!"

hi everyone!! I'm (Mod) Sayori, and I'm a minor and I'm genderqueer!!!! My pronouns are here!!

This is my mod introduction, so please make sure to read through it!! and lemme know if you have any questions!!!!

About Sayori 🖋

like I said, I'm a minor and I'm genderfluid!! and I'm also genderhoarder, gyneromantic, abroromantic, aegosexual, and asexual! (I know that's a lot djwjdjdjr)

I'm a self-diagnosed ocd and adhd, and I'm recovering from depression and questioning if I'm autistic. Please use tone indicators!!

Ig that's really it for now,, but I'll be happy to answer questions!!!!

Sources 🖋

Main sources bolded

Doki Doki Literature Club

All Danganronpa Games

Vocaloid/Utauloid/Fanloid

Cookie Run

Splatoon

The Henry Stickmin Collection

Total Drama

Pokémon

Super Mario

What I can do 🖋

Icons

Gifcons

Wallpapers

Moodboards

Stimboards

Aesthetic Boards

Sprite Edits

Flags picked from Characters

Kin Assignments

Twitter Layouts

Tumblr Layouts

Reaction Icons

Neopronouns

Emoji Pronouns

Whitelist 🖋

Kyoko Kirigiri

Sayaka Maizono

Chihiro Fujisaki

Mikan Tsumiki

Chiaki Nanami

Kaede Akamatsu

Miu Iruma

Maki Harukawa

Korekiyo Shinguji

Kyoko Kirigiri and Shuichi Saihara (Not as a Ship)

Kazuichi Souda and Miu Iruma (Not as a Ship)

Tenko Chabashira and Kaito Momota (Not as a Ship)

Mikan Tsumiki and Kaito Momota (Not as a Ship)

Monika

Sayori

Yuri

Hatsune Miku

Snow Miku

Kagamine Rin

Megurine Luka

Haruno Sora

SeeU

UNI

Macne Nana

Kokone

Merli

MAIKA

YOHIOloid

MAYU

Galaco

IA

Yuzuki Yukari

Utatane Piko

VY1

Lily

Owen (Total Drama)

Noah (Total Drama)

Leshawna (Total Drama)

Lindsay (Total Drama)

Mike (Total Drama)

Svetlana (Total Drama)

Dawn (Total Drama)

Jasmine (Total Drama)

Sanitized Octolings

Octolings

Espresso Cookie

Latte Cookie

Pistachio Cookie

Lilac Cookie

Blackberry Cookie

Raspberry Cookie

Moonlight Cookie

Onion Cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie

KomaHina

NanaMiki

SoniAkane

SaiRuma

SaiMota

KaeMugi

KaeMaki

KiruMaki

SaiShira

NatSuri

SayoNika

MikuRin

LuMiku

NoWen

PearLina

Coffee Academia

Pastel Café Aesthetic

Iced Coffee Aesthetic

Rainy Aesthetic

Sunflowercore

Coffeecore

Rosecore

Dazecore

Galaxycore

Citycore

Liminalcore

Matchacore

Coffee Stims

Cake Stims

Frosting Stims

Pocky Stims

Marshmallow Stims

Matcha Stims

Stimboards

Twitter Layouts

Blacklist 🖋

Nekomaru Nidai

Haiji Towa

Any form of TogaFuka

Any form of SaiOuma

Any form of KiibOuma

Any form of OuMota

Kyoko Kirigiri × Shuichi Saihara

Tenko Chabashira × Kaito Momota

Kazuichi Souda × Miu Iruma

Kaede Akamatsu × Men

Angie Yonaga × Anyone

Heather × Men

Weirdcore

Traumacore

Glitchcore

Overly Complicated Moodboards/Stimboards

Complicated Sprite Edits

Triggers and Discomforts 🖋

Triggers: Needles, Heights, Slushies, SaiOuma, SaiiBo, OCD Triggering things, The Topic of Pr//gnancy, The Song "Sayo-nara!", My (Sayori's) Death from Doki Doki, Being talked over

Discomforts: Prolonged Talk about COVID-19, Men without Shirts, The phrase "My Stupid Sister", Me (Sayori) being shipped with Men, Religion, Being called a Failure, Being called 'Bestie', Any form of SaiOuma, Any form of KiibOuma, Any form of OuMota, Any form of KaiMaki, TsuMioda, ShiroNaga, Cum

Tags 🖋

≡;- ꒰ ° mod sayori 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° chatting 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° not an edit 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° request complete 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° request pending 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° request denied 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° not requested 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° requested by me 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° important 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° promo 🎀 ꒱

≡;- ꒰ ° misc 🎀 ꒱

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #25: Silver Lining

Silver Lining – an advantage that comes from a difficult or unpleasant situation

The date had snuck up on him.

Dahkar rolled out of bed feeling grumpy and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. He had no plans for the day, no diplomatic engagements that he would have to suffer through, no foes to deal with, no responsibilities he found boring. The day was his to do with as he pleased.

So why did the prospect of leaving his room seem so daunting, so pointless?

Something tugged at his mind, a nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. He looked over to the calendar on his wall, a simple one that Tataru insisted all of their rooms in the Rising Stones have.

Oh.

Oh.

It was the anniversary….of the day the man he loved died.

Shite.

He’d forgotten. With everything that had been going on, he’d somehow let himself forget that the worst day of his life was approaching.

He’d forgotten him.

No you haven’t

He groaned and flopped back first onto his bed. I’m really not in the mood for this, Fray.

Too bad. Whether you like it or not, I am a part of you, here when you need me. Right now, you need me.

He rubbed his temples. Can you not just let me be sad and lonely in peace?

Not if you are going to lie to yourself, no.

I’m not lying to myself. I haven’t thought about him in moons what with everything going on. I’ve forgotten him. I almost forgot the anniversary of the day he died. I claim to have loved him, and this is how I’m honoring his memory. I deserve this misery and you damn well know it

Are you done?

Oh will you just fuck off. You told me you didn’t think we’d ever talk like this again and here you are. lying to me.

I told you I didn’t know. I didn’t. I certainly didn’t think you’d tell lies to yourself thinking you needed to be miserable. As if that’s what he would want. As if ‘not thinking about someone constantly’ is the same as forgetting them. What a lode of shite, really. I thought we were smarter than this. Clearly you still need me.

Dahkar scoffed What the hells do you know about what he would have wanted?

Do you really need me to answer that? Or should I say ‘need us’?

Dahkar screamed in frustration, covering his face with his hands to muffle the sound.

Feel better?

No, but since you seem to have all of the answers, what do you suggest I do?

You’re being petulant, and you know it. My suggestions are still you knowing exactly what to do. But if hearing me say it will help you realize it, then fine. Get up, get dressed, go to his grave, leave some of those lilies, and tell him how much we love him and miss him. And then move forward. We both know he’d be quite cross with the idea of you holding yourself back from real happiness because of what happened to him. So accept it and let yourself love again already.

He sighed. For being my inner darkness, you’re weirdly romantic.

Do I need to drag us back to the Sea of Clouds so you can hear the moogle’s song again, or are you going to accept that because I remember it, you certainly do?

No, Gods no. Fine I’m going. And I’ll….think about the rest

That’s what you’ve already been doing.

Shut it.

A few hours later, Dahkar knelt at Haurchefant’s grave. While he still carried Nothung on his back, he’d eschewed the dark plate armor he normally wore as a Dark Knight, instead donning the mail of a House Fortemps Knight that he’d worn the Grand Melee with the Eorzean Alliance. It felt like a fitting tribute to the man he was here to speak to, even if it was so light he almost felt naked.

“Hey, Haurche. If you’re watching,I reckon you’re probably yelling at me. I’m sorry for letting myself be miserable with sadness. I know you don’t want me to do that. You’d probably tell me something like ‘You have so much love to give, let yourself do so!’. And you’re right. So I’m gonna try my best. There’s actually this girl in the Scions, she-“

The loud CRACK of a flintlock discharging interrupted his words and his side exploded in pain. He screamed and went down.

“Well well well, boys. Look what we got here. Another bleedin’ heretic comin’ to pay respects to his heretic kin.”

The voice was young, male, angry, but strangely somewhat refined. He rolled over to look at his attackers, trying not to cry out at the pain the act caused him. A group of elezen youths, four boys and a single girl, all well dressed too. The leader held a flintlocke, still smoking, pointed at him. “What…” he coughed. “What the hells are you doing? This is no heretic’s grave!”

“Oh it isn’t? Oh, well my mistake then. I thought this was the grave of that bastard Haurchefant Greystone, who brought outsiders into Ishgard that up and utterly destroyed the very foundations our great nation was built on! Now we have another bastard as our leader who let fucking dragons into the city and let the fucking commoners have a voice equal with their betters!” the leader spat, lowering his gun. His cohorts nodded or shouted agreements,

“Ah, I see.” Dahkar spat blood onto the snow, trying to get to his knees so he could at least defend himself. The shot was well placed, though, and he was struggling to overcome the pain of it. “And what might you plan to do if it was?”

“Well first, we’re gonna gut you and spill your blood over this place. Then we’re gonna dig that bastard up, shatter whatever bones he’ s got left in there and spread em around so the beasts can have em, and whatever’s left of you. Then we’ll shatter that stone and toss it in Witchdrop where it belongs. How’s that sound to you, heretic? Don’t answer, we don’t care.”

The group all drew a series of blades, knives and daggers, and slowly advanced on him. Dahkar tried in vain to get to his feet, or at least his knees, any position where he could try to draw his sword and defend himself, but the strain was getting to be too much, and he nearly blacked out. A splitting headache overtook him as he tried to block out the noise in his mind.

Noise that he belatedly realized was a booming voice

GIVE ME CONTROL. LET ME IN, DAHKAR. I CAN END THIS, GIVE ME CONTROL

“WILL YOU SHUT UP, FRAY?” he screamed. He seized the darkness within himself and pushed it out, as if trying to excise the voice from his head.

Miraculously, it worked. The yelling stopped. He sensed a growing pool of darkness nearby. Opening his eyes, he looked over. A pool of dark aether had gathered next to him. From it rose a shadowy form of a hyur, glad in black and blue, gold-trimmed armor. On his back was a Deathbringer made of darkness. The Shadow looked to him with glowing red eyes

“Neat trick” it said in his own voice.

The youths had began to back away, screaming threats or oaths. He used that time to reach into the Armory and summoned his plate armor. With a flash of light, it appeared on him, the damaged mail gone. The cuirass clamped down on the would, reducing the blood loss.

The shadow offered him a hand, and he took it, getting back to his feet and drawing Nothung.

“Don’t kill them.” he said to it.

“Mercy? They’d have shown you none.”

“They’re angry and stupid. Everyone should get one chance to move beyond that”

The shadow, Fray, laughed. Or Dahkar did. It was impossible to tell, and in the end it didn’t matter.

Both lept at the elezen youths, who screamed in terror.

[arofili]

elves of arda ✹ gondolindrim ✹ headcanon disclaimer ✹ @gondolinweek

          Turukáno Núrondil was the second son of Ñolofinwë Arakáno, and the King of Ondolindë. On the treacherous journey across the Helcaraxë, Turukáno lost his wife Elenwë to the icy depths, a traumatic experience that altered his fate forever. He was always a serious and fastidious nér, and in Beleriand his character grew even grimmer. He kept his daughter Itarillë close by, quarrelled with his elder brother Findekáno over whether to forgive the Sons of Fëanáro, and soon realized that what he wanted was to never have left the gleaming city of Tirion-upon-Túna.           But there was no turning back time, and Turukáno had no recourse to return to Valinórë either. Instead he set his mind to the creation of a new city, safe and hidden, where he would have total control over his life and his loved ones would never be in any danger.           First Turukáno settled in the land of Nevrast on the western coast, where he built the city of Vinyamar and spent much time looking out over the Sea, missing the life he used to have. Yet he was not idle: with him in Vinyamar were his cousin Laurefindil, a charismatic lord with a faithful retinue of warriors, and the harpist Nandáro who led a small group of farmers and musicians. In Nevrast, the Noldor mingled with those who dwelt there already, and Turukáno allied with Galdor, a lord of the native Sindar.           At the Mereth Aderthad, Turukáno broke bread with many lords of the Noldor and the Sindar, forming alliances and making many great speeches. He kept his plans for his hidden city vague, but promised safety and sustenance to those who would ally themselves with him. Not long after the Feast of Reuniting, Turukáno recruited the archivist and architect Penlod, a friend of his sister, to aid him in preliminary designs of a city resembling Tirion of old.          His daughter Itarillë grew ever more restless under his stern watch, eventually culminating in her secret departure to visit her uncle Fingon in Dor-lómin without her father’s leave. Turukáno dramatically lost his temper when he discovered what had happened, and his close friend and cousin Finrod decided he needed some time away from home to come to terms with his losses and fears.           Thus Finrod invited Turukáno to adventure with him across Beleriand. They spent a year together, wandering alone through hills and valleys, and Turukáno finally let his repressed emotions spill out. Finrod comforted and supported him, hiding his secret affections for his cousin all the while—at least until his own resolve broke as they spent a night together on the banks of the river Sirion.           The passions Turukáno and Findaráto exchanged beneath the summer stars were not to blossom into anything lasting, for that very night both were visited by Ulmo in their dreams. The Lord of Waters imparted visions of hidden kingdoms to them both, urging them to pursue their goals, but each thought they were the only one to receive the calling. Their minds were muddled when they woke, the night before hazy and indistinct, and clinging to their secrets neither Finrod nor Turukáno spoke to one another of either their dreams or their half-remembered confessions of passion.           Turukáno spent much time alone searching for the place Ulmo had shown him in his dreams, at last discovering the hidden valley of Tumladen. There, he knew, his people could be safe, and he immediately began to call upon the friends and allies he had made through fifty years of politicking to aid him in constructing a new kingdom.           In the one hundred and seventeenth year of the Sun, the city of Ondolindë was at last completed. Around him Turukáno gathered the greatest lords in his service, establishing ten noble Houses, with himself and his household as the eleventh. Thousands of Eldar, Noldor and Sindar both, quietly made their way to the gates of Ondolindë, but only one hundred were counted as part of the House of the King.           Among the folk of the King were the Unbegotten brothers Bruithwir and Finrun, serving as Turukáno’s personal bodyguard. They were grim folk, alike to their King in mood; they knew well the dangers of Middle-earth, for both had perished on the perils of the Great Journey and had been reborn in Aman. They served as guides to the exiled Noldor who had never before seen the far shores, and attached themselves to Turukáno, the prince they believed best knew how to endure the horrors of Morgoth.           A hundred years after Ondolindë was completed and its gates shut to the outside world, Turukáno completed his greatest creative project: artistic recreations of the Two Trees of Valinor, wrought in silver and in gold. He called them Lingancal and Valisil, known to his Sindarin-speaking subjects as Glingal and Belthil, and looked upon them with great pride.           Yet the day of their unveiling in the King’s Square, Turukáno’s counselor the prophet Amnon was gripped with a dreadful foresight. She prophesied that though they dwelt in a mighty and beautiful city, “great is the Fall of Gondolin, for when the lily of the valley withers then shall Turgon fade.” Already, Ondolindë had gained a number of praising names, including Lothengriol or Endillos, the Flower of the Vale, and the golden blossoms of Lingancal resembled the bloom of a lily. Though Amnon’s words unsettled him, Turukáno dismissed her warning and took heart in the artificial nature of his creation—for how could a lily of gold wilt?           Another hundred years passed in peace before trouble stirred in the valley of Tumladen. King Turukáno’s sister Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, Lady of the Tower of Snow, had come with him to Ondolindë for the sake of her friends and kin, but now she grew restless within the confines of the Echoriath and its surroundings. Though Turukáno was reluctant to let her leave, she refused to be kept caged any longer; Turukáno, knowing she would depart whether or not he permitted it, sent with her an escort of his three most valiant Lords and begged her to head straightaway the home of Fingon their brother.           But Aredhel went not to Dor-lómin as she had been instructed, instead turning toward Himlad where her friends Celegorm and Curufin dwelt. Along the way she was lost in the treacherous forest of Nan Dungortheb, and try though they might, her escort could not find her. They returned to Gondolin in sorrow, and Turukáno retreated into grief once more. Eventually he granted permanent leadership of his sister’s House to her friend Penlod, who had taken stewardship of her folk upon her departure, and all of Gondolin mourned her as dead.           Thus great was their surprise and joy when Aredhel returned unlooked-for—and with a son! For a day there was feasting and merriment, welcoming the indomitable Lady of the Tower of Snow back home, but soon the celebrations were cut short upon the arrival of Aredhel’s wicked husband Eöl, who when faced with the King’s decree that he may not leave Gondolin, slew his wife and was slain in turn.           Upon this great tragedy, Aredhel’s son Maeglin was left orphaned, and Turukáno took him under his wing. Maeglin was odd and reclusive, and Turukáno had never been the most emotionally intelligent nér, so while they performed an awkward familial act they were never as close as Turukáno wished. Upon Maeglin’s coming of age, Turukáno named him the Lord of the new House of the Mole in an attempt to show his love for his nephew.           When the Siege of Angband was finally broken, Turukáno did not send forth any aid to his kin outside Ondolindë’s walls. He did, however, send a select few mariners out to sea so they might beg the aid of the Valar, but none ever returned. Then came the fall of High King Fingolfin in single combat with Morgoth himself; his body was recovered by the mighty Eagle Thorondor and delivered to Ondolindë, where Turukáno grieved and built him a cairn. At this time Turukáno added to the emblem of his House a scarlet heart, representing the loss of his beloved father, before the symbols of the Sun and Moon.           Two years later, Thorondor delivered Turukáno another gift, this one more pleasant: he rescued the Mannish children Húrin and Huor and brought them to Gondolin, where never before had Men been seen. Turukáno grew fond of the boys, and at Húrin’s insistence he finally sent word to his brother that Aredhel had died, breaking his utter isolation for the first time. He was sorrowful to see the lads go when they returned to their homelands in Dor-lómin, his brother’s domain, and remembered them when word came to Gondolin a decade later of the formation of the Union of Maedhros.            Unlooked for, Turukáno led an army ten thousand strong to reinforce High King Fingon at the Fifth Battle. Gondolin’s sudden appearance turned the tide of the dreadful battle for a time, but in the end the Union was overrun and Fingon slain only days after he and Turukáno had reunited for the first time in over 300 years. The House of Hador, led by the now full-grown Húrin and Huor, defended the retreat of the Gondolindrim; in their final meeting, Huor urged Turukáno to escape and prophesied that from him and the King “a new star shall arise.”           Turukáno returned to Ondolindë amid great sorrow, having lost many soldiers including his faithful bodyguard Bruithwir, and assumed the title of High King of the Noldor in the wake of his brother’s death. The free-peoples of Beleriand were defeated in all but the three hidden strongholds of the elves—Doriath, Nargothrond, and Gondolin itself—and he saw himself as the last great leader of his people. Despite this, other Noldor yet lived outside his jurisdiction, and Turukáno’s new title did not extend his duties any further than the walls of his city, now more isolated than ever.           More mariners were sent begging aid from the Valar—and though none made it to the Blessed Land, this time one, Voronwë, survived, returning to Gondolin with a Man sent to the King with a prophecy from Ulmo. Turukáno was counseled to open the gates of his city and prepare for battle or else face the destruction of his people and city, yet Turukáno could not see any path to victory in open war and trusted rather in his own counsel and that of his nephew Maeglin.           Ulmo’s messenger was none other than Tuor son of Huor, and in memory of his friend Turukáno gave him leave to stay in Ondolindë. His daughter Idril was charmed by the Man, and in the course of a few years they asked for permission to wed. Turukáno hesitated at first, but recalled the last words of Huor and was moved to agree. Tuor and Idril were wed amid great joy, and he joined his wife as the leader of her House of the Wing; in only a year’s time, their son Eärendil was born.           But Ulmo’s warning soon proved true, for when Eärendil was only seven years old the golden lilies of Glingal were found tarnished and dented. Amnon urged her King to take heed of the obvious sign from the Valar and the fulfillment of her prophecy, but once more Turukáno refused to listen. This would prove disastrous, as on the morn of Tarnin Austa the armies of Morgoth attacked Gondolin and its great Fall began. Most of Turukáno’s Lords urged him to abandon the city, but Maeglin, who had for a year been acting fell and strange, convinced him to remain in an attempt to hold the city.           For much of the awful battle, Turukáno kept his House in reserve, but when Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs was slain he came down from his tower in all his splendour to cleanse the Square of the King. They drove back the enemy monsters for a time, but many of his folk were slain. The remaining folk gathered beneath Glingal and Bansil, slowly melting from the heat of dragonfire, and Turukáno at last saw that he had brought ruin upon his city. Now at last he recognized the truth in Amnon’s words, lamenting in an echo of her prophecy, “Great is the fall of Gondolin!” But Amnon did not live to see her King’s remorse, for she had perished in the battle.           Too late, Turukáno ordered the remainder of his people to flee through Idril’s secret way, though many had already begun the march. He threw down his crown and proclaimed that though all were free to leave, he would stay and fall with it. Galdor of the Tree attempted to return to him his crown, and Tuor and Idril thrice begged him to escape with them, but Turukáno refused and instead ascended to the height of the Tower of the King and cried out a challenge to the Enemy. He was assailed by dragons and Balrogs, fighting them off with his mighty blade Glamdring, until all his guard perished, Finrun defending him to the last, and the tower was felled by the might of many dragons, its weight and their flame killing Turukáno at last.           In time all those who were slain in Gondolin’s fall would be reborn in Aman, even twice-slain Bruithwir and Finrun and war-wearied Amnon. Turukáno’s return would come in time for him to visit Númenórë, the kingdom of his Elros his great-grandson, and he would be reunited with Elenwë his wife and Itarillë his daughter and even Tuor the Blessed, granted clemency by the Valar—and also his dear friend Findaráto, with whom he could now at last find new love amid the restoration of the old.

[dastan-allyrion]

THE HIGHTOWER & LEFFORD WEDDING

Below the cut you’ll find Dastan’s interactions with Garland Hightower ( @garlandhightower ), Calla Lefford ( @calla-lefford ), Tyland Lannister ( @casterlygldcs ), Lanna Lefford ( @lannalefford ), Cedric Tyrell ( @visxionaries ) , Harlon Tarly ( @harlonvflowers ), Theomore Westerling ( @theowesterling ), Mellara Tully ( @mellaratully ), Caewyn Lefford ( @caewynlefford ), Selene Waters ( @purpleeyedwaters ), Dahlia Flowers ( @dahliaflcwers ), Anya Snow ( @anya-snow ), Omer Floren ( @wcrdsarewind ), Charlysse Tarbeck ( @crxwniron ) and Myriam Allyrion ( @myriamas ) at the Hightower & Lefford wedding.

There’s an air of grandeur to the Hightower always, but under the keen and experienced eyes of the mothers of bride and groom the great tower in the mouth of the Honeywine is not just a beacon to the ships in the water but a great shining monument to the alliance between roses and lions. Crisp white candles scented with expensive and rare oils on gilded candelabras light the marble halls and the stained glass windows of the lower floors color everything into dreamy decadence. Where there are no windows, the walls are decorated with huge tapestries framed by garlands of calla lilies, depicting great moments in the history of Oldtown and House Hightower. The line of Hightower kings stares down at the party-goers, reminding them all how House Hightower held out the longest before marrying into the Gardener line and was still called a Great House, worthy to marry royals and cement alliances. Of course the one made to celebrate Alicent Hightower’s marriage to a Targaryen king was missing from the walls, instead replaced with one bearing the Lannister lion and Tyrell rose. But only people who came to these halls often would recognize its lack of presence.

The Lord and Lady of Oldtown have a place at the center of the high table elevated on a dias, presiding over their reception. The table is long and made of dark oak with matching chairs, the plating made of Westerlands gold and smithed by the finest hands in the Reach, making the places for their kings and kin to sit with them equal to their status. On the bride’s side there was room for her lady mother, siblings, and royal cousins; while on the groom’s there was a place for his half-sister and her husband, his brothers, and his parents.

There are two other tables flanking the hall, one for the court of the Reach and the other for the Westerlands, and one last one further down shared by Dornish and Riverlanders. The other royals, members of the small councils, and close friends of the families sat closer towards the newlyweds while farther and farther into the hall other, less prominent guests were seated and expected to stay. Especially if they were uninvited.

GARLAND HIGHTOWER: The black marble of the Starry Sept had shone with the refracting light of crystals by the large windows, the sight once mystifying the young Hightower and distracting from his knightly vows that so many had come to see. Then he was twenty, but twelve years and an entirely other reason to be stood before the High Septon led him to be entirely focused on an altogether different beauty. His wife. Garland and Calla had already said these vows before, only witnessed by a septon of the North and their sisters, and just as then he spoke them easily with eyes filled with love. Their hands were tied together by seven silks and anointed with seven oils, and never was Garland’s smile so bright.

Once the main hall of his home was packed with a sea of guests from all corners of the alliance and everyone who desired a drink had been given it, Garland rose from his seat and tapped the glass with one of the knives before him. He had rested his leg the day before and done just about everything he and his maester could think of to lessen his pain that wouldn’t inhibit his cognition. He wanted to stand tall without the help of his cane as long as possible and be able to at least have one dance with his wife. When the din of conversation ebbed, he spoke to the crowd. “Thank you everyone for joining our families in this celebration, especially those of you who traveled from afar.” Garland nodded toward the Tullys and Martells that had to be accommodated at the end of the hall after his mother received word they would be attending. “Your kind gifts and words honor my wife and I so very much, and fill our already overflowing hearts.” He smiled down to Calla for a moment before continuing, his voice clear and loud. “I offer a toast to the Leffords and Lannisters, who were kind enough to grant me one of their most dear treasures, and to my King and goodbrother for giving me the chance to serve our kingdom and follow my heart at the same time. May your families grow strong and proud!”

CALLA LEFFORD: As they stood in the sept Calla’s vows slipped easily out of her mouth, each word spoken with the most sincere love for the man before her. She had loved him when they exchanged vows in the North, and she loved him even more now, the nurturing of the bond that joined them growing stronger each day. It was a lovely thing, choosing him twice over, making her promises before gods and men with confirmed devotion.

The bride glowed with contentment as their loved ones and allies were gathered in the great hall to continue the celebrations, and her heart swelled with pride for her husband as he rose to address their guests. She also stood up when her time to speak came, holding up her goblet. “My lady mother came to me last year to speak of a union of our family to House Hightower,” Calla said, glancing to the side to meet her mother’s eyes. A proud and warm smile graced her lips. “I thank the gods every single day for the foresight you had in bringing me to this wonderful man. To my husband”. The new Lady Hightower turned to Garland; her love, her companion of life. Her goblet clinked against his and she smiled brightly, lovingly, at him. “To you, darling. To our families and our realms,” the lady faced her guests and raised her drink to them, offering a grateful nod. “May everything that joins us remain true and strong!”

TYLAND LANNISTER: The King of the Rock listened to the words of the Groom and the Bride, remembering his own wedding day, remembering how it had not lasted - he hoped, for Calla's sake and the security of their kingdoms alliance, it would. He raised a golden goblet, coming to his feet after patting his Aunt on the shoulder, the last of the old guard that was in silent tears. “Our two great kingdoms have come a long way, and we still have much to go. The powers of the Westerlands and the Reach combined, ensuring none would try to turn us against one another - for stability, our lives, and our loved ones. May your lives be peaceful, with all justice granted. Congratulations, cousin, Lord Hightower.” He nodded toward the married pair, before sitting back in his chair.

LANNA LEFFORD: The last lady of the Rock was hiding her tears behind a handkerchief, listening to the words of her new son in law, daughter, and nephew. She felt Jason on her other side take her hand under the table to give it a momentary squeeze. That on top of Tyland's hand on her shoulder almost made her tears go faster. Her first baby girl was married, happy... it was all she wanted in life. Well, she wanted it for all her children, but this was a good start. “Oh that was lovely, Tyland.” She smiled gently to her eldest nephew. “Oh I'm making a fool of myself... goodness.”

CEDRIC TYRELL: Listened intently to the words of the lion king, a slight smile coming over his features at the sight of Lanna, clearly become herself with emotion. It reminded him of his own mother at Helena's wedding, to the very same man before them. The bride's side were giving someone away today, and yet, the Reach had gained Calla Lefford long ago, had they not? “Well there is not much left to say, aside from, about time.” he commented, the usual charming, empty grin over his features as he looked upon Garland. “You have all our support, and our blessings...may this peace continue, long enough for you to ensure your gifts are not used for any ill purpose.”

It was then Lucrezia Redwyne lit a torch upon the balcony, a signal to the men on the docks; fireworks were let off the two new vessels, filling the dark sky with a blaze of colours, through cheering and clapping within the ballroom. They deserved happiness, did they not?

HARLON TARLY: Harlon was one of the first to let out a loud cheer of congratulations. Getting to see his friend married and happy was a great sight to see. After such a long engagement it seemed fitting that they finally were wed. Maybe Garland would be a little less grumpy now....he would be sure to tease him on that later. Sitting back down at his seat, he took Rhea's hand. “I have to say i have not been to many proper fancy weddings like this. it's nice to see people happy for once.” 

THEOMORE WESTERLING: Seeing the happiness of everyone brought a smile to the normally focused lord commander. while he left like he could not totally let his guard down tonight he wanted to at least try and enjoy himself. Wedding were for fun and perhaps he deserved a little of that. Seeing Lanna so overcome with the emotion of happiness was so nice. Standing up from his spot at the table, he moved to give his congratulations to the new couple and speak with some of the others.

MELLARA TULLY: Rasing her glass to the toasts happening, cheering along with everyone. She always loved weddings like this and getting to see everyone so happy. And it was clear to everyone how happy the bride and groom truly were, it was a wonderful thing to see. Leaning over to the other Riverlanders who joined that day she smiled, “This is all so beautiful isn't it?” she smiled. “I am planning to dance as much of the night as i can tonight. How about you all?”

CAEWYN LEFFORD: A bright smile spread across Caewyn's face, cheering as the fireworks went off. Such a grand spectacle was fitting for her sister. While Calla may not have been one to make a fuss, Caewyn felt like she deserved it. It was her special day after all! "Congratulations to the both of you." She addressed her older sister and her groom. “I wish you every happiness and a lifetime of love and laughter.” She teared up, seeing his sister in her gown, looking more radiant than any of the higher ladies in the room. “I hope you know how much I adore you. I only hope to be even a portion of the woman that you are.” She told her sister, clasping her hands. “And you be good to her or you'll face my temper.” She told Garland, her face scrunching up before she erupted into laughter.

DASTAN ALLYRION: Dastan sat next to his sister and the rest of the Dornish guests. Prince Mors was absent, however, his consort and brother-in-law being the ones representing his kingdom at the event. Fortunately, the alliance between Dorne and the Reach still held strong, despite the turmoil it had caused in Godsgrace, despite that the very union meant to solidify the bonds of trust and friendship between both realms was no more…

His sister’s bright light had dimmed in the past days and his heart ached for her, for the ways in which her marriage was suffering. Dastan held Myriam’s hand and gave a light nod. It was what they had always done since they were little, the silent communication that passed between them. I got this. The Lord of Godsrace rose from his seat and slipped into his role of nobleman. “It is an honor to find ourselves in the presence of allies and friends. Congratulations, my lord, my lady,” he said with a nod to the newlyweds. His eyes travelled across the room to the rest of their allies. “All of Dorne stands with you in celebration, and know that the gates of our homes will always be open for you,” he offered a polite smile and glanced down at his sister. His hand landed on her shoulder and then he looked up to see the people he was addressing. “Prince Mors sends his apologies for being unable to attend as well as his best wishes.”He raised his cup. “Thank you for having us. Cheers”.

SELENE WATERS: Sat in the back with the rabble and the unexpected, Selene's eyes wandered between her friends and the royals and nobles making empty cheers to one another. How long would these sentiments last when something came knocking at their doors? Moving eyes from Dahlia's features, she saw a Dornish man stand, and immediately her eyes enjoyed his figure... until she heard his voice. Oh. Well... all the more reason to enjoy the figure he cut, given that he was her new... lover, maybe? At least a constant in her life. She let out an appreciative whistle from behind him, seeing if he'd dare to turn to see.

— little time skip to the chaos —

DAHLIA FLOWERS: She thought the flame of bitterness and dread had left her through the fires she had set, but the familiar sight before her was enough to pull in 27 years of hardship at the forefront. She was thankful in that moment to be within throwing distance. Years of hauling cloth for the arseholes had given her strength in her arms, after all. He looked at her that way. He kissed her that way. And it wasn’t easy for the dressmaker to see what was once special be thrown away. Ignoring her friends, she grabbed the nearest goblet and hurled it at the couple with all her adrenaline-soaked might. She could have been a spear thrower if she were a man. She hurled a couple more. She stood for a moment, the pain apparent on her face as she stared at Garland straight on. She spoke as if they were the only ones in the room. “I could have loved you, forever…” Tears stung her face as she ripped off the necklace around her neck onto the ground. “I gave you everything, for seven fucking long years, and you made sure to tell me it didn’t matter after the accident, and now you just show me it didn’t matter and I—Consider this my resignation from your household. Apologies, Lady Hightower.”

CALLA LEFFORD: The bride smiled against her husband’s lips when he pulled her into a kiss. There was an incredible relief in having to sneak around no more, in being able to fully be the wife she’d become months ago and openly show her adoration for Garland. Her smile remained as they pulled away and her hand rested on his cheek when he told her they could share a dance. Calla knew how he’d prepared for this day, what he’d done to ensure his leg pained less. “You didn’t have to,” she told him sweetly. There were no words for the appreciation she felt that he had, though, surely knowing what it could mean to her to dance with her husband.

A goblet suddenly crashed against their table and Calla found herself startled by the ruckus. She knew exactly who the woman was, knew of the story she shared with Garland after he confessed it all to her. Calla could have lived with that, could have supported the young woman’s business if only because of the affection her husband once felt for her, and perhaps would always after having shared a part of his life with her. But this kind of antics weren’t something she was bound to accept. The lady’s expression shifted in a second, the red lioness embodying the graceful ferocity of her forefathers. The Lady of Oldtown and the Hightower raised from her seat and with a single movement of her hand, a pair of guards rushed from their posts towards the poor, hysterical tailor of the Reach. “Please escort Miss Flowers out before she embarrasses herself further,” she spoke, her voice steadfast, poised in the same way she’d seen her mother command the world around her. “Your resignation is graciously accepted,” she spoke, with her voice as cold as ice.

GARLAND HIGHTOWER: The first goblet was wide, thankfully going between him and Cedric as it sailed through the air. Immediately the large man moved to protect his wife, his mass moving to take the next to in the ribs as he pulled Calla in and down more to keep her safe and using his arm to shield his own face. His dress clothes were stained with arbor gold and Dornish red, and he took the chance to peek out and see who was throwing shit at a wedding-- 

Fuck. Dahlia. 

He stared after her as she cried and ripped the necklace he'd given her as a gift on the anniversary of their meeting off her neck. He could hardly fathom that this was going to happen, that his marriage after a year apart would hurt her. His stomach dropped as he moved back and watched his wife handle the situation. His mind was reeling, and more and more the guilt built.

SELENE WATERS: Selene had tried to grab Dahlia before she grabbed that first goblet, unable to keep up before Dahlia made a fool of herself where all these lords and ladies could see. But at least she got to her friend before the guards could. “Dahlia, c'mon, please...” She muttered, taking her waist to pull her away. “He's not worth it, he never was...”

ANYA SNOW: Anya’s eyes widened as her friend began to throw goblets of wine toward the bride and groom. Fuck. This was so much worse than anything she thought could happen tonight. Selene rushed towards their friend and Anya followed suit, but despite their attempts to just pull her away, the guards did as their lady commanded. Dahlia was taken away and the Northerner just looked at Selene without knowing what to do. Fuck! Should they follow? Was Dahlia going to get arrested… Were they going to get asked to leave and arrested?

DASTAN ALLYRION: Dastan witnessed the whole scene play out. What in gods’ names was this madness? It was easy to infer there had been something between the groom and the blonde shouting at him. Clearly, things hadn’t ended well. If they even ended prior to Lord Hightower’s wedding. But his attention was immediately grabbed by the pair of women who tried to prevent the blonde from getting taken away by guards. One of them he would have recognized anywhere. Selene.

OMER FLORENT: Omer looked at no one as he raised his cup to be refilled. “And I almost stayed home.”

CHARLYSSE TARBECK: Charlysse stayed to the side, her eyes widened while watching the sudden scene unfold as she sipped her first (and as promised to Adrian) her only goblet of wine. She was thoroughly taken aback, she had never seen such a thing happen at a wedding before. “By the Seven.” She muttered in shock.

SELENE WATERS: No guards moved towards her or Anya, probably seeing that they were trying to hinder instead of help the distressed blonde from doing more damage. Purple eyes moved to her friend, trying their best to figure out what to do. “I don't know if she's going to want to see us... they didn't say arrest...” The whore tried to figure out what to do with a bitten lip, her eyes looking up over Anya's shoulder to link eyes with the Dornish lord. She wanted to go to him, but her concern was too great. But... an idea hit. “What if I ask Das-- Lord Allyrion to make sure she's not arrested? And you go see if they just kicked her out? Cover our bases.”

ANYA SNOW: The word ‘arrest’ hadn’t been used, but when had something like that ever stopped people like that from treating those like them in any way they saw fit? Anya kept glancing back at the door where Dahlia disappeared, taken away by those guards, as if any second that passed meant she was closer to losing their trail… losing her brief to whatever justice was going to be passed down here. “Do it,” the blacksmith immediately said after Selene suggested a course of action. Without another word, she rushed towards the exit.

SELENE WATERS: Purple eyes followed Anya's back until she was out of sight, her own feet moving her away from the center of the room and towards the Dornish table. Towards Dastan... and his sister. She recognized her face from Godsgrace, and how those paintings didn't do her justice in the slightest. This really wasn't how she wanted to meet Dastan's older sister, all nervous and shaky and with a friend in trouble. She did her best curtsey to the princess and the lord, her worry written on her face. “Your Grace, may I borrow your brother for a moment? I... I need to ask a question.”

MYRIAM ALLYRION: The Consort of Dorne remained sat beside her brother, goblet in hand as they watched the fire before them; my god, it were like watching a spectacle, as everything seemed to these foreigners. Leaning sideways to mutter something to her brother, both drinks in hand, they both erupted into a small fit of laughter, both somewhat tipsy when a lady of violet orbs approached her. “Ask my brother a question?” Myriam asked, her face serious for a moment, before a tipsy smile crossed her face. “Why are you asking me? I do not own his mouth. It has been busy as of late though.” She continued, tipsy giggles escaping once again.

DASTAN ALLYRION: Dastan had been nursing a few drinks all through the event, but his senses weren’t dulled enough to be unable to read the concern in Selene’s eyes when she approached the Dornish table. He glared at his sister for her response, though a subtle smile appeared briefly on his lips as he nudged her. So were things between siblings. On another occasion, he would have taken the time to properly introduce his sister to Selene and vice versa, but right now wasn’t the time.

The lord got up and walked around the table to stand by Selene’s side. He offered his arm and the two of them moved to a more secluded area of the great hall. “Are you alright?” he asked, as they stood by one of the large windows. “You weren’t harmed, were you?” Dastan had seen the way the guards pushed their way through to get to Selene’s friend, after all.

SELENE WATERS: She held tight to Dastan's arm after it was offered, walking with him after a quick nod goodbye to the princess as they went somewhere not so busy. She knew exactly what the princess had meant... mostly because she was the one keeping him busy. But now was not the time. “Yes, yes, I'm fine... I'm used to a rough hand or two.” She muttered flippantly, taking one of his hands in hers to keep from twiddling her own fingers. “I just... I know they didn't say arrest, but what if they took her to the dungeons? Dahlia's one of my best friends, I can't just not know where she is. I swear this will be the only time I ask for your help like this, Dastan. You're a lord... I don't have any power, and I need your help.” Her eyes are pleading as she holds his hand to her chest, over her heart.

DASTAN ALLYRION: Briefly, Dastan’s hand rested against the side of her neck, looking at her with care and hoping that he wouldn’t find any signs that the guards had been too rough when pushing Selene and her other friend aside to reach the instigator of all the chaos. The lord knew she had experienced worse things than this, far worse, but that didn’t make him dismissive. “I’m not a lord of these lands, Selene. I’m an ally of these people but I hold no power here,” he began, not wanting to give any false hope that he could make a difference in this situation. His status could allow him far more influence than anything Selene could hope to do to sway whatever decision was being made regarding her friend. “Though I’m sure the Reach far more important concerns than a drunk, scorned woman,” he said with a sigh. Dastan held her hand and gave a soft nod. “Come. We’ll find out what’s happening with your friend and if there’s anything I can do”.

(Dastan and Selene leave)

[alolanrain]

More on Eric Kingler and the league. (This is super long and I’m sorry i can’t put a read more since I have no computer)

Unlike his League who mostly have separated teams for their gyms and personal use, his team is used for both!

His starter is a shiny Eevee, named Miku and the only named Pokémon on his team, followed closely by his Goodra. Both being seen as his starter since he caught Goodra as a Goomy the same day he got Miku. His home town is Sherdee and the forest, Bikwood, is where he also captured his Dreepy which is now a Dragapult. The rest of his team is Blissey, his Grandma’s starter his Aunt gave him after winning the Champion title and also replaced his Braviary who quickly died of Pokémon specific cancer, Sawsbuck and Drampa.

Eric Kingler team: Miku (Gigantamax/Eevium Z), Goodra, Dragapult (Dynamax), Blissey, Sawsbuck, Drampa (Dynamax/Dragon Zcrystal)

Unlike most league members who have the option to Dynamax and or use different zcrystals with different Pokémon but don’t, Eric regularly trades out who does what on his team. Though he does tend to lean towards Miku but has the advantage on non-verbal signals during fights, Vincent taught him that, Eric is actively trying to catch himself and change that.

Sherdee is placed more in the lush side of Mount Vince, though not as close to the base of said mountain like Snow Cap who circle completely around the mountain in a very weird circle shaped town with parts. Winery’s, farmland, and general green rolling hills cover most of Sherdee’s north side while the south side is more population dense. East side is more lush wood dense, think more of Cali’s red oaks then anything, where most of the dark and poison typing mingle. The west side, towards New Loc, is a thinner more wet type of bog land where water and grass thrive. This is where Kalos is receiving most of the helping Pokémon through the trade.

Despite the extremely popular wineries and being the Champions home town, Sherdee is not that populated like New Loc or even Benene on the other side of the mountain. Filled with drillers and generally older people. The west side of Mount. Vince is just generally where older people move to go retire and live. The lush shady and green land is much more gentle then the harsh dry lands of the east side. Salond is the only town thats mostly filled of young adults and trainers. And having the second and last gym on the League docket especially helps.

Though Jackson is usually found in Lily’s gym, to the point it’s basically his gym mission to come drag him from his friends gym back to his, and prefers the quiet Sherdee brings. It’s also where he mostly gets his dispensed weed and other things of that nature. The poison gym is based around the more populated zone of Sherdee, south east to be exact where the majority of poison and dark type live. Vincent Ghoul, heavily named after the mountain, is the dark gym leader and also a pretty sick dude and his gym is based in the north west despite a lot of dark types don’t naturally live there. Despite his only communication being signing since he’s selectively mute, which Jackson lords over everyone else because he’s the only one that can keep up with Vincent, he’s a very social person. A big contrast against other dark type trainers who are cut off and cold.

He’s Eric and Jackson’s collective second rival and met them at the second gym, the electric one, in Soland. The gym leader, General Chad Manley, was screaming directly in Vincent’s face. Jackson was the first to move to confront the retired General but it was Eric who silently beat down the man in a one on one battle with his personal Toxtricity (Amped Form) with Miku. The issue clearly came to the light when Chad refused to give Eric and Vincent the Shock Badge on the fact that he refused to believe they both fairly beaten the man. Making them call in the nearest Officer Jenny who had to inform the league, it took half a month of precious time and a very public event of one of the chairmen threatening to terminate the general to get their badge. Jackson actually got his as a consolation for waiting and unable to battle. Making him feel he was inferior to Vincent and Eric and making their three way rivalry very wobbly with the other two trying their best to restore faith in their friend.

He makes it his mission to somehow becomes Chad’s boss in some way and now he’s sitting as the strongest gym leader of Orago and Chad’s boss. Despite also being the forth strongest gym, Vincent is very much on par with both Jackson and Eric. Having grown with the boys he just chooses to stay where he’s at. Because it didn’t matter if he was the forth weakest or the second strongest, he would still be placed in Sherdee, and being the forth gym means he gets to meet a lot more trainers. Vincent is also one of the only gym leaders to rarely use his Zoroark, his very beloved starter, in official battles. Opting to keep her out most of the time unless a really strong trainer comes through.

Unlike Galar, and now recently Alola, Orago does have an Elite section. Though its not an Elite four but an Elite three. It’s taking into account that instead of eight gyms there’s nine in the region. It’s a debate that Eric and Jackson have constantly as well. Jackson doesn’t want to become an Elite four for many reasons, the main one being that if he’s moved to the same building the other three and Eric are constantly at Jackson cannot give Eric a safe place to come and hide in when things get to much for the stoic man along with the ability of his gym being a bunker if the two Team’s gain serious ground against Eric. The second one being that he’d have a shit ton more paperwork and thats not flying by him at all. Eric’s side is that they can spend more time together, it’s unspoken between the pair but Jackson can easily tell the mans non-verbal point, and Jackson doesn’t have to switch teams which he hates doing.

It doesn’t cause any stress on the League as a whole but it can get annoying for out-of-Region trainers who travel to take part who naturally assume there’s just eight and the badge holder just has an extra slot just in case. Only to go and sign up only to realize there’s an extra gym that they miss and now can’t participate in the last conference, which is mockingly called the Wine Conference from how much Eric and the head Chairwomen drink just to stay on the line of sanity.

Lily comes in much later, once Eric works Jackson into the bug Gym and Vincent into the dark gym, she comes takes over the poison gym. Unlike older and more traditional Regions like Kanto and Hoenn who usually give their position to the next of kin, Orago has a rule that you strictly cannot do that in any sense. Also that gym ladder positions will change constantly, like each gym is in a different spot almost every year, the only constant ones are Vincent, Lily, and Jackson because they know their strength and weakness to keep their ladder position the same.

Water and Rock usually change the most due to their type difference, Electric very rarely moves and if it does it goes down, and this system has caused the League to hand out maps to every trainer with that years ladder. Ghost and Ice are the second most popular to move but unlike every years its every three years like clock work. The Ice Gym Leader is unable to properly work out her team, being wheelchair bound and unable to properly track through the snow, so it usually fluctuates from the lack of trainers. Cadenza Flicker, the Ghost gym leader, has no problem with the situation at hand. Unlike the others who hate having to constantly switch.

Cadenza Flicker and Mini Tooks are not best friends but their close. Unable to see each other as often as they wish since Mini is again wheelchair bound and unable to travel through thick snow like other trainers and Cadenza’s large flame burns that cover a majority of her body keep her from staying in the snow for long. Though, once the summer arrives and the majority of the snow melts, Cadenza moves her team up to Mini’s gym to keep the girl company until fall comes around.