#tell sybil all about it at tea...

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; a new face arrives in town, and everything begins to shift. something is terribly wrong strange, but no one is talking.

★ warnings; none!

☆ story masterlist

As the first light of dawn filtered through the windows of the apothecary, you buzzed around, busy with substituting half-way empty jars with new ones full of elixirs and various herbs. The heavy scent of sage hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of brewing potions bubbling in the cauldron nestled in the corner. With a flick of your wrist, you lit the candles scattered around the shop, their soft glow casting long but warm shadows around the shop. 

Your familiar Sybil, a snow white Borzoi, twitched from her spot under the counter, slightly raising her head in attention. Not a second later, the bell above the door chimed with your first client of the day. 

“Well, well, still up with the dawn, I see.” The deep, raspy voice was unmistakable.

Alex stepped into the apothecary with his usual long strides, his dark blonde hair a touch wilder than you remembered. 

“And you're still sneaking around at sunrise," you teased lightly. “Here for Farah’s order? I was just about to pour a fresh batch.”

“Yeah,” he replied, as he handed you his usual green thermos for the refill. “She’s been feeling… well, she’s hanging in there. Just a bit more tired lately.”

You hummed knowingly, tightening your apron and moving to get the order ready. 

“Have you heard?”

“About?” You replied absentmindedly, focused on getting the exact quantity of steaming liquid into the thermos. 

“The new girl that Laswell took in.” 

That made you pause and turn to look at him. 

Laswell was a witch like you, and a deeply influential one at that. That made her difficult to approach, but even harder to earn her trust. It had taken you a year of back and forth before she allowed you to set up shop in this part of the city. So to say that you were slightly intrigued was an understatement. 

“Who now?”

He snorted, stretching over the counter to wriggle his fingers down at Sybil, and who in response raised her large snot to meet them in greeting. 

“Apparently a few nights ago Ghost saved this rando girl from the Rose District―”

“What the hell was she doing in the Rose District?” 

“Well clearly she’s not from around here.” He retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which clearly wasn’t. Even people from out of town knew to stay away from that place, especially at night. She was either from another country altogether or really, really, dumb. 

“Anyways, he took her to Laswell and she offered her a job on the spot. She even let her settle in the loft above her bar and all.”

“Well, that’s….unexpected? But good for her I guess.”

“But wanna hear the best part?” Shrugging you rang him up, throwing in a few stray herbs in a satin pouch as an extra for his wife. 

“She’s magicless, and a total smokeshow.” He was clearly trying to get a rise out of you, and honestly, he was successful. Rolling your cleaning rag tightly, you snapped it against his hand. He yelped in surprise, cradling his hands with mock-indignation. 

“Anything else?” He shook his head and dropped the exact amount for the order into the ornate dish you kept beside the register. 

“You’re no fun,” he pouted, stashing the flash into his bag before pointing at the satin bag. “What’s this?” 

“They should help with Farah’s morning sickness. Just mix them in with her morning tea, a dash of honey will help with the bitterness.” 

He gave you a wide boyish grin. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Waving him off and as if telling him ‘oh I know’, you watched him leave with a spring to his step, clearly eager to go back to his wife. You waited for him to disappear from sight, before reaching for your phone in your apron’s pocket. 

9:15 am

you: hi

you: everything k? alex told me about the rose district

9:17

👻: 👍🏻

9:18

you: lmk if u need anything

you: btw your order’s ready, you can drop by anytime

you: sybil says hi 

(picture attached) 

You didn’t get a reply right away, which was strange, but not uncommon for the half-wraith. In the end, he always got back to you. Telling Sybil to stay put and care for the storefront, you moved to the back to organise the rest of the day’s orders. 

Once upon a time, Ghost’s go-to place had gone out of business (he had personally taken it down after discovering it was a front for a fairy trafficking ring), and as per Laswell’s recommendations, he had appeared one day to commission you with a list of potions and ingredients, each tailored to his pack’s specific needs. He gave you three days, and you had gone above and beyond to deliver. 

You knew you had succeeded in meeting their expectations after he came back the following month with a much bigger and more detailed list in hand. And it was through his monthly visit that you got to know the rest of the pack. 

Simon took care of pickups and never stayed long, but long enough to listen to you rant about lousy customers, all while answering to Sybil's demands for pets. 

You never got much done with Johnny around, but his charm definitely helped you with sales, especially with the older gnome ladies. The werewolf also played tug with your familiar when the shop became notably busy and you couldn’t take Sybil for her daily walkies. 

As the only son of a witch, Kyle liked to help you with just about everything. He especially enjoyed peering over your shoulder whenever you delved into one of your many experiments, smiling like a child whenever you asked for his opinion. 

You got to know John last, a human Hunter and their de facto leader. He never dropped by, but whenever you encountered him outside your shop, he never failed to greet you with a warm smile and ever warmer shoulder-squeeze. The older man also was a worrywart to his core, always asking about you and Sybil, as in have you had breakfast/lunch/dinner yet? Did you get your windows insulated for the winter? He can take care of it for you, and oh he got a good bargain on some chicken, let him share some of it with you. 

Slowly but surely, they each had wormed itself into your stiff-witchy heart. 

10:30

👻: can’t today

👻: sendin’ alejandro

The curt answer made you falter, a mix of disillusion and confusion settling heavily on the pit of your stomach. His lack of response to Sybil's picture was also worrying, that never happened. You struggled not to push him for an explanation. 

And so, you waited. 

Alejandro made his appearance a few hours later. Again, you left Sybil in charge while you greeted him and his partner, Rudy.

“Preciosa, it’s good to see you.” Alejandro enveloped you in a tight hug and kissed you on the cheek, Rudy following right after. 

You returned their greeting just as warmly, guiding them to the back and to the crates stacked neatly and ready for them to take. You watched them work, swaying a little from side to side, before finally mustering up the courage to ask them about Ghost’s unusual absence. 

“Is Ghost okay?”

Alejandro grunted as he loaded the crates into the trunk, hand falling over his hips before he turned to regard you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah he’s fine, por (why)?”

You shoved your hands deep into your apron’s pockets, a nervous habit. “He has never missed a pickup, and he’s not answering my texts.” 

“Oh, it’s probably that girl.” He acknowledged dismissively. As if sensing your dismay at Alejandro’s lacklustre response, Rudy chimed in. 

“Leah, the new girl working for Laswell.”

Making the most of his receptiveness, you prodded Rudy for more details. “Have you met her?”

He shook his head, tilting his chin towards his partner. “Nope, but Ale has.”

“Well she’s cute, in a mousy kind of way.” He supplied while scratching his chin, and something about his pensive gesture told you that he still hadn't exactly made up his mind about her. 

They were quick to leave however, busy with their own things, plus having to drop off the pack’s order. You watched them go, fingers twisting and turning 

Yes, hopefully this strange episode would pass.

. . .

Things did not pass, if anything, they only got worrisomely stranger. 

A few days later, you found yourself in the supermarket. It was just another part of your routine that you usually enjoyed.  You reached for a jar of honey, when you felt it—a shift in the air, a tingle at the back of your neck. Straightening, you allowed your gaze to wander, searching for the source.

And then you saw him.

He stood a few feet away, staring intently at a shelf of cereals. Your heart skipped a beat, not from surprise but from the pleasant flutter you always felt when you saw him. You  instinctively moved closer, a full smile already settled on your lips.

“Johnny, hi!” 

His head jerked up as if startled, eyes widening when they met yours. For a moment, he looked at you with a strange mix of confusion and surprise, as if he barely recognized you. 

“Och aye! Hello there! Whit ye daein' here?"

“Uh, I always shop here on Sundays?” But you know that, you’ve come with me more than once!

"Oh, dae ye no? Well, anyways!” Johnny’s brows furrowed, and he blinked rapidly, like someone waking from a deep sleep. His gaze flickered away from your face and back to the rows of cereal “Whit dae ye think Leah would fancy the most?"

That caught you off guard, so much so that you couldn't give him a rightout answer.

Suddenly, a second figure came from around the corner. It was Gaz. He walked up to the two of you, but something was off. 

“Mate, stop running off! We need to get back to—” Gaz blinked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. “Oh, hi?”

“Hi?” You parroted back with an incredulous guffaw. 

You just stood there, feeling an unfamiliar and uncomfortable sensation—like the ground beneath you had shifted and you were the only one who noticed. This wasn’t right. Your relationship had always been so easy, and filled with laughter. But now, it was like there was a barrier between you and them, unseen and unsettling.

“Is…everything okay?” You asked them, voice laced with a mix of worry and disbelief. 

Gaz looked at you again, but there was no warm recognition in his eyes. “We’re fine,” he said, though his voice was flat. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, Johnny following him like a shadow, a box of chocolate flavoured loops in hand.

He hated that kind, not even bending whenever Gaz tried to coax him into getting them as a treat. 

You watched them disappear down the aisle, dumfounded. The vibrant hum of the grocery store around you flickered slightly as your mind whirled. 

Taking a breath, you forced yourself to stay calm. You should head back to the apothecary and Sybil, maybe even check in with Laswell. 

She’d know what to do, right? She always did.

banner credit

[gibor-zolel]

Tabitha: The sacrificial lamb? And possible Sybil motivations + partnership with Wayne

So in this post I'll be discussing why I think Tabitha is supposed to be the sacrifice and we're supposed to run the town.

I will also give a theory as to what Sybil's motivations might be and why her and "Wayne" seem to be working together even though they appear to dislike each other.

SPOILERS AND MANY SCREENSHOTS BELOW. THIS IS A LONG POST BE WARNED.

Right at the beginning of the game we can tell that Tabitha is unhappy with her lot in life and feels forced into doing what she believes is best for the town (similar to how Neeks feels forced and trapped)

She even admits as such during our time with her in chapter 3.

She; as the cousin who is older and has lived in Scarlet Hollow has been groomed by her mother into thinking that all this falls on her and she needs to sacrifice her life and happiness for the sake of the town.

But she's not the only one that believes this. Both Keneeka and Sybil have stated as much. Keneeka makes an offhand comment about how "we're not even a real Scarlet like Tabitha and this should fall on her" if we give up years of our life in chapter 3.

But Sybil is more....insidious and serious when she says this;

Sybil thinks it's Tabby's responsibility to give up a decade of her life to placate a ghost that was murdered by a Scarlet decades ago. I'm not gonna screencap every time Sybil makes an argument "for the greater good" but if you listen to her all throughout this story, you'll notice she does it A LOT.

Here's one example;

Everything has a price....but would Sybil do something like this herself? Perhaps...but it's more likely she's willing to do something horrible to her own daughter "for the sake of the town". She makes a big deal out of how the people in Scarlet Hollow are tied to this town and how they can't just get up and leave in chapter 2. She's not wrong but it's also obvious she's plotting and hiding information from us.

Which brings me to this; There's a strong possibility that "The Witch" is not merely an ancestor of Sybil but rather Sybil herself. In this scene we notice that The Witch has many poisonous plants...similar to how Book Smart can point out all the poisonous plants in chapter 1 or 4.

The Witch also sends Charlie on a dangerous mission to uncover the seals...hmmm who does that sound like? In chapter 4 after our tea session with Sybil she tells us to investigate the seals and find out what's hidden beneath them.

More importantly....if you have Mystical or don't drink Sybil's tea you can resist the urge to open the door in chapter 3.

We also learn towards the end of chapter 4 that Sybil is the one who told Dr Kelly to poison her son but we can only learn this if we didn't drink the chaga tea in chapter 2.

So it's pretty clear that Sybil wants two things;

(1) Uncover the seals

(2) Protect the town....even at the expense of others

But something that's interesting is that Sybil and whatever is piloting Sam Wayne's corpse seem to be working together for a common goal..even though the two don't seem to like or even respect each other.

We learn in chapter 1 or 2 depending on our choices, that "Wayne" has been coming by Sybil's tea room. Although it's unclear if the original Sam Wayne did this as well.

Regardless; Sybil tells Wayne she can't help him tonight and tells him to go away. In multiple chapters Sybil refers to Wayne as a drifter who'll be gone soon. She also stresses that we should be wary of him and to steer clear whenever he's around and we'll be fine. It's clear she knows what Wayne wants and most likely knows what "he" really is. She also gets this worried (disgusted?) look on her face if we tell her we're in love with Wayne (sorry no pic lol)

But she also steers clear of Wayne as well and rarely interacts with him and Wayne straight up threatens her if we choose to give up years of our life.

So why this hostility? And why do I think they might be working together?

Lets talk about those boxes in chapter 4. If you have Keen Eye in chapter 4 and open the closet you get this;

So it's Wayne that opens these boxes and shifts the doll around. Why? Well at the end of chapter 4 he tells us to investigate the estate and that we might be surprised at what we find. Wayne does this thing where it's obvious he knows what's going on but he won't directly tell us what's happening. He says it's because it'll be better for us to find out ourselves so "we can know who to really trust".

In other words; Wayne believes that once we uncover everything we'll be on his side. He's pretty confident about all this and I'm unsure how much to trust him; given that he repeatably bad mouths our friends and suggests we abandon them to save our own skins.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Why did Wayne open these boxes? Did he hope to find damming information against the Scarlet's? I find it hard to believe that Tabby has that pushed into the front of our closet but maybe she doesn't know it's there? And why didn't he put the boxes back in place? Almost as if he wants us to open that specific box.

What if...Wayne planted something there? Or maybe he took a piece of evidence and hid it? I think option 1 is more likely considering he seems to be isolating us from our friends.

I believe Wayne is working with Sybil to make sure Tabitha is the one to pay for all the crimes the Scarlet's did and insure that we are unharmed. I don't think Sybil cares too much if we get hurt but I also think she's of the belief that it's Tabitha who should be the sacrifice not us. Tabitha is the only one that Sybil agrees on being "The Cat" in episode 4. Sybil pushes you to distrust Tabby and perhaps Wayne planted something there to make us distrust her too.

Look at this interaction between Wayne and Tabby during the haunting;

He says this if you deliberately taunt Tabitha but I don't believe he's being sincere here. It sounds like he's mocking her in a subtle way given what he says in another option;

So far Tabby and Wayne haven't interacted much but imo it appears that Wayne enjoys taunting Tabitha and rubbing her ex's dead body and their failed relationship in her face. Pretty nasty but Wayne is pretty nasty to a lot of our friends.

Either way; Wayne is very invested in making sure we're safe and he gets pissed if we sacrifice ourselves and this is the only time we see him have any kind of emotion.

So what if he's so intent on keeping us safe he wants Tabby to take the fall for whatever skeletons are in the Scarlet's closet?

There's also this theme of the heir to the estate sacrificing their younger siblings or others to keep themselves in power. After all; Enoch sacrificed Teddy for power.

Tabby may be older than us but she's not the child of the heir, that's us. Vivian was supposed to be the boss of the mines but she left after she discovered she was pregnant.

I believe the Scarlet's have a history of having one side of their family rule while the other side gets used as sacrifices for whatever is cursing this town. Wayne wants to protect us from getting murked and Sybil is willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the people of the Holler can keep living their lives.

And let's face it; most of the town believes Tabby is to blame for all of their problems. She isn't sociable, she's blunt, she's isolated, she's alone....the perfect scapegoat?

[jaylienpotter]

Part 4 of Let them be | 1k words

> Part 3 | Part 5 (to come) <

Credit to @starsarestories for suggesting including Hagrid in marauders fics!

Let people want none

"Comin'!" With a loud creak, the wooden door opened wide. "Ah, Peter! What'cha doin' here? Come in!" Rubeus Hagrid was a half giant who was Hogwarts' gamekeeper. He was extremely sweet, despite his intimidating figure. He had guided Pettigrew and Potter on their first day there and they quickly warmed up to the hairy man. Peter went to his cabin from time to time.

"Hello Hagrid. I'm honestly hiding from my peers, you're a calmer presence so I came here. Hope that's alright?"

"O' course! Hungry?" The man infamous for his cooking skills. If Hagrid invited him for tea, he felt bad refusing, eating the rock hard pastries he made. The flavour wasn't bad. It was just hard to chew.

"No, thank you."

"Tea?"

"Yeah, alright. Thanks." He prepared the tea and sat opposite to the student.

"So. What'cha hidin' for? Did ye get into a fight?" No, but he had been further from starting one.

"No. It's just… It's James. He keeps messing with me, saying I fancy this person. But I don't! And it's really frustrating…"

"Ye told him that already?"

"I keep telling him Benjy and I are just friends- Benjy is the one I'm talking about. Benjamin Fenwick, Ravenclaw, a year above." Hagrid nodded once, maybe he knew Ben. Or he was just being polite. "But James doesn't believe me. Says I'm in bloody denial. But I don't like Benjy that way!"

"Yer just not gay, that's alrigh'. Ye can be close to a friend."

"It's not that… I never fancied anyone. At all. Girls or boys. Sybill liked me at one point and she's sweet and passionate and pretty but… I just don't feel it. Maybe I'm broken…"

"Nonsense! Yer so young, ye'll find the right person, don't worry boy." Wormtail exhaled after taking a sip from the hot wonky mug.

"You don't understand, I… I don't think I'm capable of feeling that, you know? Like… everyone is coupling now. James is head over heels for Evans as usual. I think she's gaining a liking for him, which will make him impossible to be with. Marlene and Dorcas are a couple. Oh, Remus and Sirius got together by the way."

"Ah, did they? Good for 'em. I think they make a good couple."

"Yes, finally. They're two oblivious idiots. But anyways. Everyone is all lovey-dovey and I just… don't get it? I don't see what's so special about being in love. If anything it seems annoying and disgusting. And everyone is expecting me to join in but I don't want to…"

"Then don't. Simple. Ye gotta learn not to fall under pressure, Peter." He did have a point. Saying 'no' was a very difficult task.

"But what if I never feel fulfilled?"

"Lemme tell ye a secret, Pete. Ya don't need a partner nor family to be happy. I'm happy and haven't had a girlfriend since my years at Hogwarts. It's just been me and my animals. It's enough for me. Some people, like James, need love to feel fulfilled but not everyone. Some people don't care about it or do not wish for it. One example is Professor Mcgonagall."

"She's never had a partner?"

"Not as far as I'm aware. She much rather have her space and doin' other things. An' that works. Maybe it's what works for ye too." His head of house was a brilliant witch. Tired, for sure, but who wouldn't be when you have the Marauders as your students?

"I see… Maybe you're right. But how do I tell people? Everyone will think I'm odd."

"Just say ye don' feel that attraction. Ye prefer friendship. Or don't say nothin'. Ye don't owe anyone explanations, yeah? Do what feels best for ye." Wormtail relaxed. He needed to hear it. That he wasn't broken. He wasn't the only one like that. And it was okay.

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'm glad I came to talk to you."

"Anytime. Always good to have som' company. Ye welcome to come over whenever, alright?" The boy smiled and nodded, finishing his tea and saying his goodbyes.

"You won't believe it! I got my hands on an Incredible Hulk! Can't wait to read it!" He might not have been a scholar like Remus. And big literacy books were boring to him. Comics, however? He owned a huge collection. Marvel was his favourite.

"That's great! You'll have to tell me about it when you finish." Benjy was the only one really willing to listen to him ramble about the things he liked. James read comics too, but it was hard to have a conversation about it, Prongs always ended up being the only one talking, too absorbed to notice he was cutting off Wormy. It wasn't his fault, yet it still made the short boy feel invisible. Not with Benjamin, though.

"You can read it afterwards, if you want. And then we can discuss it."

"Thanks but I prefer it when you explain it. You're cute when you're excited." Pettigrew wasn't stupid. He knew his friends were right when they said Fenwick fancied him. He would just rather pretend he didn't know. Pretend it's not true. Live in ignorant bliss.

"Oh, thanks. So uhm… Have you been drawing?" Ravenclaws were mostly known for their intelligence and academic values. What people often forgot was how it was also the House of creativity.

"Yeah, here and there." A comfortable pause followed, the mood shifted as soon as the silence broke. "Pete… Can I tell you something?" Oh no. No… No, please don't confess. Please. Everything was going so well…

"Sure, what's up?" His voice sounded casual, even though his stomach took a toll. If this was anything like what people described as 'butterflies in their stomach', Wormtail was glad he didn't feel attraction.

"You probably know this already- or you don't and are oblivious. But… I like you. As in I fancy you. Have been for a while." The Ravenclaw probably wasn't expecting that reaction. Maybe a rejection, an unsureness or if he got lucky, a kiss. Instead he was met with sadness. Pettigrew looked down, leg bouncing from anxiety. "Please say something…"

"I can't…" Voice broken, much how he felt inside. "I-I can't love like that… It's not-"

"'It's not you, it's me', heard that one."

"No, Benjy! Listen to me, please… I don't think I'm capable of having romantic feelings. I can't bring myself to be interested in any of those things. Kisses grosses me, couples annoy me, the whole societal norms in regards to love leave me bloody fuming! I don't know why I'm like this. I just really don't like that sappy stuff. It's not for me. And if I did like it and feel romantic attraction, I would've definitely dated you. It just doesn't feel right to be with anyone… I'm sorry for giving you any wrong signals…"

"It's okay. I thought there was something, sorry for misinterpreting our relationship." No, don't go!

"No! Benjy there is! Just because it's platonic doesn't mean it's not special! You're my best friend…"

"I… I thought it was the Marauders?"

"Well… James is sort of on your level. But you've been climbing your way up, I feel. Remus is a good friend and Sirius too but… Nothing compared to you. You make me feel loved, like I'm worth something."

"You're worth the whole world…"

"Then let's not change things… I'd really hate it if you stopped being my friend because of this…" No, go back inside! Bloody tears!

"Okay. If that's what you want, I'm happy to just be near you. We can keep our Wednesday tea dates. Platonically!" The small boy chuckled. Benjy was the best, he made everything better. Wormtail could always count on him.

"I'd like that." Ben opened his arms wide and Wormy walked there in baby steps until his head was against his friend's chest. He let himself be hugged, taken care of. "Are you mad?"

"At you? Never."

"I'm sorry for this. You're truly special, Ben."

"So are you. As a lover or a friend. So are you, Petey..." They stayed like that for a while. And then they carried as usual, their bond the same as before, if not stronger. Things hadn't gone the way Benjamin wanted them to, but the Marauder knew he got touched by being called a best friend. And Peter meant every word of it. Not loving romantically didn't mean not loving at all. Platonic love was just as important, just as intense, just as real.

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

sybill trelawney hcs? luv ur names fatima/jack btw idk smt about it js gives me the best vibes youre like that small transition between autumn and winter where the wind is cold and it cuts right through you because you're not quite cold enough to wear your coat and warm layers yet but in that second you regret it

hi hello that's litr the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me umm haha msg me let's get married ily

also, i was litr just thinking of sybill. i have my pinterest board for her to open rn. uh, have some hcs <3

she was raised in a muggle village as an only child

severely autistic child who showed violent magic since a very young age

couldn't make any friends easy at all

at hogwarts, she was one year above the marauders

the girls in her dorms were nice but in an overtly condescending way

she got horrible grades in nearly everything. she could memorize contents and stuff, but she couldn't write right for shit, her hands wrote down what her brain thought with absolutely no format

she was slightly better at herbology than the rest of the subjects

on that note, absolutely abhorrent handwriting

she took divination because of her grandmother and grew to absolutely adore it

she also took arithmancy (which she was less good at, but good nonetheless) and ancient runes

was bullied a lot because she had mini-visions in school occasionally

invited by slughorn to the slug club, but she never went since she never had anyone to go with her

hated hated hated silence, she talked excessively

she became close to the girls in her dorm eventually, one in particular whom she developed a small obsession with

that girl, call her lucy, was her lesbian awakening (she had just assumed she never liked any boys at school, none of them showed overt interest in her either.)

listens to 40s music near-exclusively

had a horrid burn on her chest that she got when she was fifteen, she was making tea and the water fell on her because she got her first prophecy

after that, she only wore large clothes that covered her entire body

speaking of body, sybill's body weight fluctuates horribly often bc she hyper fixates on stuff and forgets to eat (+sleep) and also binge eats

told dumbledore that the spy may be from the marauders which is why he believed it was sirius

felt guilty about the (harry/voldemort) prophecy bc she felt if it was her own fault

she predicted deaths every year because she foresaw her loved one's death and didn't tell them

i have more but im sososo sleep deprived rn. i love sybill (and u im sirius serious let's get married)

[juleshollow]

Kaneeka-Tabitha theory

Oh my god I might have hated on Kaneeka unfairly

In my previous post I wrote about Kaneeka becoming a different person whenever Tabitha is involved. It just hit me: Kaneeka acting so uncharacteristically, against her core principles... COULD IT BE SYBIL'S TEA??

Ok it might be a strech but hear me out. Most of the things Kaneeka says about Tabitha make total sense. She's against the exploitative coal baroness, fair. She doesn't like her personality, also fair (we know Tabby is an asshole). But she goes beyond that.

In my playthrough, I called Tabitha before going into the mines. Kaneeka was terrified of the mines. She should have been relieved that someone knew where we were, in case we needed rescue. She's responsible, so she should have put our safety before her personal opinion of my cousin. But it was Tabitha, so she didn't.

In Episode 3, Kaneeka didn't want me to invite Tabitha to the ghost hunt, but she accepted when I insisted. She was even nice about it (she said "I guess she's your family" and smiled)! But when the gang got together she suddenly became cold and made us leave before Tabitha arrived. Kaneeka is rational and mature, so she shouldn't go back on her word after making an agreement. But it was Tabitha, so she did.

And then, if Tabitha doesn't sacrifice her years and leaves the ghost in the library:

Kaneeka is smart, so she should see that exchanging part of life for a house is not a good deal. She should have said that the ghost was trying to rip us off. But it was Tabitha, so she didn't.

And she is caring and compassionate, so she should have reassured us that our well-being was way more important than any material thing. But it was Tabitha, so she didn't.

What I'm trying to say is that she goes against everything that defines her for Tabitha. Kaneeka forgets her fears and her very identity in order to be cruel to our cousin. It goes beyond dislike: at one point it becomes hate.

And we KNOW Sybil is already mind controlling her daughter with her tea. So, what if Sybil amplified Kaneeka's underlying dislike for Tabitha in order to keep her away from her?

We already suspect that Sybil is either The Witch from Charles Shaw's play or her descendant. We might not know what Sybil's intentions are yet, but it's clear that The Witch played a great part in the Scarlet family's downfall. And Sybil is already manipulating the only remaining Scarlets: she gives Tabitha special tea for the goat and she tells us to go find the rest of the carvings. We don't know what kind of magic ritual we're being part of, but I think Sybil might want to get rid of the Scarlets once and for all. In fact, Sybil wanted Tabitha to sacrifice her years. She tried to convince her!

So it would make sense that Sybil tried to keep Kaneeka as far from Tabitha as possible! We're constantly facing mortal danger, after all.

So... if Kaneeka sometimes does things that go against her nature... and she's also occasionally hypnotized by her mom... you know...? I mean she only does this when Tabitha is involved!

[chi-the-idiot]

HUGE SCARLET HOLLOW SPOLERS FOR CHAPTER 4 UNDER THE CUT

Just me being incredibly freaked out about something people arent really talking about.

So is it just me or is Sybil the so-called cat in thr situation?

For the uninformed, in chapter 4 Sybil (Kaneeka's mother) invites you for some tea, where she performs a reading of leaves. She basically predicts all of the usual (danger, race against time, etc) but also says that "There's a central figure here. A cat. An enemy, lurking in plain sight.", basically establishing that someone is setting up these events on purpose.

You get the option to speculate on which of the characters you've met thus far might be the cat. Stella, Kaneeka, Tabitha, Avery, Oscar, Reese, Wayne, the creppy church pastor, and even Reese's mom.

But there's an option that stands out: Sybil herself.

In most cyrcumstances, it seems like the game itself tells you "don't be dumb, choose someone else". But if you have chosen the Mystical trait, you get to still ask her "what if it is you". She shuts it down, saying that it would be dumb for her to warn you if she really was the traitor.

However, if you then try and get Kaneeka to come with you to Reese's house, Sybil will interrupt you two, saying that her daughter needs rest for her "cold". She especially puts emphasis on how she needs her to "hold the family together".

Your own narrating dialogue seems to agree that you are in the wrong, until your mystical nature oposes it, saying that something isnt right.

You eventually leave alone, Sybil's eyes following you.

...

SO AGAIN, MAD SUS, RIGHT?!

And you may ask: "But why would she warn you then? It doesn't make sense."

Yet I raise you: it is not a coincidence that a cat was chosen to potray this enemy of sorts.

According to a quick search, cats tend to play with their prey once they are caught. Research proposes that this is done so that the animal is more confused and tired, thus being easier to kill for the cat.

Then, think for a minute, about how much Sybil seems to know. She knew about Wayne, and let him roam freely. She has limited herself to be cryptic about what is going on, when it feels like she knows much more than she lets off. And not to mention her attitude towards Kaneeka is so strange.

Personally, im certain that she is the evil hidden in plain sight, and this warning was given to confuse you and tire you out.

---

Also I don't think the pastor is the one. Like, yeah he's REALLY weird, and he has done wrong things (like that stuff at Kaneeka's dad's funeral), but it feels more like a red herring to me than anything. Maybe it's setting up a future chapter. But he's not evil to me at least.

[moon-witchs-world]

Growing Pains - Remus J. Lupin part nine

Growing Pains - part nine

A Hogwarts tale

Remus Lupin x Fem!Witchreader

1,5k words

This is part nine of a multipart series. You can find part eight here

Masterlist

A/n: hey lovelies! Thank you so much for reading this series of mine. I enjoy writing this so much and always look forward to hear what you think. Leave me a comment or reblog, it makes my day!

You had no idea why you had said agreed when Sybill Trelawney asked you to come to her office to drink tea after supper. You should have known she would lure you in with the promise of tea and then take the opportunity to tell you all about your future. You never took Divination when you were in Hogwarts, it seemed like a silly subject, nothing serious and definitely not something you would need for the job that you envisioned for yourself. 

But right now there was not really anything you could do to stop her from telling you things you didn't even believe in. You sat opposite Sybill, tea cup in hand and she was staring at you with her big, magnified eyes just waiting for you to finish the tea. As soon as you did, she grabbed the cup from your hands and placed it upside down on the saucer. She mumbled a few words, waited for a bit and then took the cup into her hands. She studied the contents of the cup for what seemed like hours, while she hummed and raised her eyebrows in surprise from time to time. 

‘Well, well. This is an interesting cup, very interesting indeed,’ she said finally. You nodded in response, not sure what to say. 

‘It’s a wolf,’ Sybill said matter-of-factly before turning the cup your way so you could see it for yourself. Even with a lot of imagination, you found it hard to see what the Divination professor was seeing. In your untrained eyes all the residue of the tea leaves looked the same. Like tea leaves. 

‘I’m not sure…’  you started to say, but Sybill quickly took the cup back and started talking over you. 

'Definitely a wolf. It’s a positive omen, my dear. It means overcoming enemies and misfortune or sorrow in life,’ she said while nodding. 

‘And since it’s placed in the middle, it also means you’re helping others with their concerns. Making others feel at ease. Apparently you provide much comfort,’ she continued. 

For a moment you were speechless. You did not believe in this kind of stuff. But this was very fitting. A wolf? Seriously? You stared into Sybill’s eyes as if you were trying to figure out if she was playing a trick on you. She must have seen you and Remus together and thought this was what you wanted to hear. There was no way this was legit. You were even a bit embarrassed you were so quick to believe it. 

‘Well, thank you for the tea, Sybill. But I should go. I have quite some essays to grade,’ you said while hoping it wasn’t too obvious you wanted to get out of her office as quickly as possible. 

‘Of course, dear. Take some time to think it over and if you need more advice, let me know,’ she said with a big smile. You thanked her again, not really sure what for and then left. It was weird but while you walked away, all you could think about was how hard Remus would laugh if you told him about this. 

You walked to the staffroom. You always preferred to work in the library, but you feared you would run into Remus if you went there. Ever since your argument last night you hadn’t seen him. It hurt your heart to not talk to him, but in a twisted way it made sense. He had to realize he had to take care of himself and if you were preventing him from doing just that, it was better to keep your distance. 

When you entered the staff room, you saw Minerva sitting in one of the chairs in front of the fire, reading a book. You quickly walked towards her and sat down in the chair next to her. As soon as she noticed you, Minerva slammed her book shut and looked at you with a cheeky smile. 

‘I’ve heard you’ve been busy,’ she said. You looked at her with surprise in your eyes. 

‘Not particularly, I only had two classes to teach today and then after dinner I went to drink a cup of tea with Sybill but it was an ambush and she insisted on reading my tea leaves and..’ you stopped talking when you saw Minerva shaking her head. 

‘That’s not what I meant. Severus told me he saw you and Remus kiss,’ she said with a giggle. It was so weird to see Minerva this girly and giggly about something and you involuntarily smiled as well. 

‘Severus is a creep. He sat in the dark in the Defence classroom waiting for Remus. We didn’t see him when we got in and..’ you didn’t finish your sentence, suddenly embarrassed. 

‘Because you were obviously busy. I’m so happy for the two of you,’ Minerva answered. You just stared at the fire, hoping that she would change the subject but of course she didn’t. 

‘Why do I get a feeling you’re not happy?’ she said after a short silence. You sighed and quickly explained what happened between you and Remus last night after Severus had left. You didn’t even hesitate. It felt good to talk about it to someone else and it had been bothering you the entire day. When you finished, Minerva looked at you with a frown between her brows. 

‘So after finally admitting your feelings to one another you get into a fight because Remus tells you you make him feel better than ever?’ 

You quickly shook your head. 

‘No, you don’t understand, Minnie. He’s being irresponsible. He needs to take his potion and I can’t be the one who prevents him from doing so. No, not even if he says I make him feel better than ever,’ you snapped back. She was acting like it was just that simple. 

‘You’re scared. This is a commitment. What if he hurts you? What if you hurt him? But that’s the thing with love, my dear Y/N. It’s all about taking risks. And right now you’re not even giving it a fair chance. You’re just making up all of these different reasons why it won’t work out. That’s not exactly brave.’  For a while you just sat there. Minerva’s words weren’t nice to hear, but you knew they were true. In an attempt to protect yourself and Remus from getting hurt, you hurt the both of you. 

‘Well, I’m a true Ravenclaw, I guess. Head full of knowledge but no courage to be found,’ you mumbled more to yourself than to anyone else. 

‘Luckily one of you is a Gryffindor,’ Minerva said with a smile, after which she pointed to the door. Remus Lupin had just entered the staff room. As soon as you caught his eye, you looked away. This didn’t stop him from coming over to where you were sitting. 

‘Y/N. Hey. I went to the library first and when you weren’t there I hoped to find you here. Can we talk?’ he quickly said. He was even brave enough to softly touch your arm, a true Gryffindor indeed. 

‘Remus. Just the person we wanted to see. Can you hand over your watch please?’ Minerva said sternly before you could respond. And because it’s the only right thing to do when Minerva McGonnagal tells you to do something, Remus obeyed. Minerva took the watch from him and then handed it over to you. 

‘See, Y/N is going to put an enchantment on your watch so it reminds you every night to take your potion. That way you won’t be able to forget,’ Minerva explained. You looked at her in surprise. Of course. This was so simple yet so effective. Somehow she had just come up with the perfect solution. You smiled and then grabbed your wand. It was a simple spell and you were done in the blink of an eye.  

‘It will start ringing every night at eight and it won’t stop until you complete your task,’ you said after you were done. Remus gave you a smile. 

‘Then I won’t postpone the task for too long, the ringing will probably get on my nerves,’ he answered. 

‘Yeah, that’s the idea,’ you answered and you helped him put the watch back on. 

‘Thank you, love,’ Remus said and then he grabbed your hand. 

‘Do you want to go for a walk? I haven’t seen you all day,’ he then said and you nodded. You said goodbye to Minerva and then left the staff room with Remus. 

And just like that, everything seemed perfectly normal again. Aside from the fact that you were now walking hand in hand with the Defence professor trying to stay calm but wanting nothing more than to kiss him again. And again. Oh how you hoped you would get to kiss him again soon. 

To be continued…

tags: @turvi @carlito55ainzbae @spidermansolosurfav

[adoracora-elizabeth]

Drabble - Cake

Robert walked into the great hall when he saw Cora come up from the kitchens. That was a weird time to discuss the menus with Mrs Patmore he thought. They were not expecting any special guests, were they?

She had a weird expression on her face. It made him stop in his tracks, should he let her know he saw her? Before he could decide, Cora walked up the stairs. Her face was directed to the floor. Something was bothering her, Robert knew. The way her shoulders bent forward and how she tried not to look up, so she would not make eye contact with anybody walking by.

Robert gave her a minute before he ran up the stairs. He needed to know, what had happened in the kitchens. He knocked on her door and without waiting, he opened the door.

He found Cora standing in front of one of the windows, staring outside. Her small figure looked even smaller than normal. Her chestnut brown curls were neatly put up in an updo. She had not reacted to him stepping inside the room. Had she not heard him knock? Quickly he closed the distance between him and her. Gently he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Cora?" He asked.

This startled her. "Oh, Robert. I did not hear you come in. I am sorry." He saw how she brushed over her cheeks, to hide the tears probably. He could see in her eyes, that she had been crying. She quickly turned her face back to the window.

"What is wrong my dear?" Robert squeezed her shoulders and started massaging them. He felt her react to his movements. He did not like all the fabric between his hands and her skin. He reminded himself that he should give her a proper massage, tonight after they retreated to bed. When he felt Cora let out a deep sigh, he stopped and stepped next to her. "Cora? Can you tell me what is wrong?"

Cora gave him a soft smile. "I just got reminded of how fast the time goes by and....." her voice stopped, she lowered her eyes and tried not to cry.

Robert got worried, what was making her so upset? He saw her glimmering eyes when she looked up again.

"This war......." her voice broke again. "Now our youngest is also involved. And what if something happens to Matthew? Or even Thomas."

"I know, darling. I know." Robert said while taking her hands in his. "Sybil will be alright, she is a strong young woman." Suddenly he saw Cora's face light up.

"She is." Cora said. "Carson took me down to the kitchens, where I saw her in the kitchen with Mrs. Patmore and Daisy. I think you will like the cake we will eat this afternoon tea."

Robert looked at her a little bit confused. "What do you mean, darling?"

"Sybil baked a cake."

"She did? Truly? our Sybil?"

Cora smiled and squeezed Robert's hands. "I was worried, but I am not anymore. I still wish Isobel had not suggested her to become a nurse. I do not want to think about all the horrors she is going to see. But I also know she is resilient. Carson brought me down, to scold Mrs. Patmore or even Sybil, but I will not. Our little one has grown up and I am proud of her."

Robert kissed the back of her hand. "You raised three strong woman. It feels like yesterday when you showed me Mary for the first time."

"Twenty-six years ago, can you believe it?" Cora answered.

Robert stroke with his hand over Cora's cheek. "Looking at you, I cannot believe almost thirty years have passed, since the first time I saw your beautiful face."

A smile played around Cora's mouth. "We should go downstairs; it is almost time for afternoon tea."

[sir-griswold-of-macelwain]

If i had to change one thing in season 3, it would be Violet forcing Clarkson to lie about Sybil's death to the Granthams.

I want tom and robert to be the only ones home for tea (perhaps it's just after the luncheon at mrs crawley's + matthew is somewhere on the estate) and they're, like... uncomfortably sharing the room, Tom hasnt had lunch so Robert rings and asks Jimmy to bring some fruit or bread or whatever (jimmy, because i think he only arrived after sybil's death, so what follows, he cant have planned).

Jimmy brings in some fruit, common enough that they have it in the kitchens but uncommon enough that they didnt have any since sybil's death. Apricots maybe.

When tom sees the apricots, he breaks down sobbing because Sybil loved them so much. He just cries uncontrollably and Robert just joins in, crying and sharing with him the memories they have of Sybil. Cora enters through the other door, they dont see her, she hears how they all miss her so much, and later that day she tells robert he can move back in because sybil's death was punishment enough or because they both suffer so much they should support each other in their grief or something.

I want them to really bond in their grief instead of... clarkson lying??? And also it would lay down useful bases for Robert bullying Tom to join his cricket team later on. They didnt just become friends because they lived under the same roof, but through sybil, too.

[teaandinanity]

So because it is very easy and someone posted clear instructions, I have now done an ‘all skills’ run of Scarlet Hollow through chapter 4 and y’all.

I missed SO MUCH STUFF. I LOVE ALL THE STUFF. I’M SO GLAD I GOT TO SEE IT.

Duke is great. I’ve never had a worldstate in which he was alive because I’m a muppet and always pick Talk To Animals so like, obviously I save Gretchen. This time I saved both of them and it was neat! Stella is much less traumatized! Love that for her!

Speaking of ripple effects, I have come to the conclusion that ‘call Tabby; do not stop Rosalina; save all 3 kids’ appears to be the Actual Best Resolution for day 2 even over the Keen Eye magic bullet due to the effect it has on Tabby’s reputation. Getting to visit on day 4 to tell her that everyone thinks she’s a hero gave me the warm fuzzies and I am prioritizing Cousin Bonding and Tabby Happiness over many other things because that is the shape of the story I want to play.

Need to see how things shake out from the day 3 challenge, currently unsure what I consider the correct outcome. Booksmart solution is pretty neat, but part of me thinks the overall narrative is more satisfying if someone actually pays a price and also Tabby refusing to let my MC make a sacrifice play is always Very Good.

I don’t really like playing with Hot because it’s very allo HOWEVER given it’s the only way to cast Summon Tabby on day 4 without it locking me into 1 of the 2 endings I consider unacceptable, I am clearly going to continue cheating it in. I NEED Tabby to get her hug and if the only way to do that is making my character allo about her monsterfuckery then I will simply have to suffer thus.

Sybil is SO SKETCHY if you have the traits to pick up more stuff and don’t drink the kool-aid tea, like, I’m inclined to believe the Mystic vibe check the first day that she’s not actively evil but there is a whole lot of grey real estate available before you hit that moral event horizon and I have some Concerns about her specific moral zip code. Ma’am what the fuck.

[krowbby]

For the character ask game: Sybil pls because I love her and want to hear your thoughts!

omg yes i love her

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you

How I feel about this character: I love her! I love that she's powerful and strong in her own way, not in the way that many Badass Women (tm) are just a normal male hero that they gender swapped with no thought. She's also a really interesting character as a member of the nobility in a book series that is largely anti-nobility. She's clearly neurodivergent with her dragon special interest ("And there were requests for donations, and talks, and things that added up to a heart big enough for the whole world, or at least that part of it that had wings and breathed fire."), and has some social difficulties that she manages with scripts (think: writing all those letters to Serafine while getting none back because it's What You Do with Old School Friends) but she's not incompetent in those matters. She seems to be pretty respected in society and she is able to negotiate favorable trade deals with the Low King. She is a soft power in the political sense, but also in the way that she is powerful in the story because of her softness. And of course, it's so nice to read about a woman who is the main character's love interest and is unapologetically fat, does not have a character arc revolving around losing weight, and in fact stays fat and is not made fun of it.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Just Sam! I don't think she would have married anyone else if not for the events of Guards! Guards! I went looking for this quote because it's one of the reasons I relate to/love her: "It was clearly the room of a woman, but one who had cheerfully and without any silly moping been getting on with her life while all that soppy romance stuff had been happening to other people somewhere else, and been jolly grateful that she had her health." Absolutely iconic.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: We don't have many of them but all the interactions we get between Nobby and Sybil are so funny and so good! They're both very earnest people (in their own ways) and I imagine them having afternoon tea especially when Nobby finds out he's well, nobby.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Hard to say! I think I generally am pretty aligned with the fandom on here. I guess I'll go with that I've seen some criticism of Pterry's treatment of fatness in his books (especially with Agnes' self-criticism, villains like Cosmo) and while I do think there is some merit to that, the way he writes Sybil and Nanny in particular is such a breath of fresh air to me. There are some "jokes" related to her weight (the classic "her bosom rose and fell like an empire") but I think for the most part they are not mean spirited and there are just as many similar jokes for other body types that it doesn't bother me. However being fat and engaging with media truly sucks sometimes so I would never tell another fat person they don't deserve to feel some type of way about the treatment of a fat character.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I would have liked to see more of her as a mom. Even once young Sam is born, I still think most of how we see her is as a wife, not as a mom. It's not totally absent, but I think it would have been cute to see more!

My OTP: Sam/Sybil!

My OT3: I'm not a huge shipper in this fandom, but I will say that the only V/V content I've enjoyed has been with Sybil as a throuple so I'll go with that!

[jomiddlemarch]

Dawn was theirs

It was a glorious English autumn day when the Courcelette survivors arrived at Downton. Sybil wasn’t certain any of the men could appreciate the brilliance of the light falling across the green fields, gilding the towers, the ruddy leaves of the oaks along the winding drive. Four of the men were insensible, two had grubby bandages wrapped around their eyes, long overdue for changing, and the last, young, slender, dark-haired, gazed at something beyond any comprehension, murmuring all this is ended as if it were a nun’s litany.

Walter Blythe remained unconscious for four days.

*

Matthew had turned his face to the wall when Mary approached, wept when he thought no one would notice. He was very polite, very cold, bitter, a fallen angel. Mary stood in the hall and wrung her hands before she came into the room where he lay, her heartbreak in the shadow of her dark eyes, the trembling palm she pressed against her breast. Sybil hadn’t thought any other soldier would pose as great a challenge, for they had all known Matthew before he went off to war and he was precious to them, even to Granny, who’d never admit it but still visited and sat with him for the fifteen minutes expected of a social call.

Walter Blythe, burned, broken, his face spared, seemed unreachable. One of the other men had been in his company and spoke highly of him, describing a man uncomplaining, steady, a doctor’s son who wasn’t at all squeamish about lice or dysentery. Then he shocked them by telling them Walter was a poet, the renowned author of “The Piper,” one of Canada’s most honored sons.

Walter had been mute for a fortnight after he’d opened his eyes.

* 

Sybil tried, but she’d couldn’t conceal the fact that Walter was a favorite of hers. She lingered by his bed, eager to fetch him a book from the library, the paper, a fresh cup of tea. He was easy to be fond of him and if doting by the nursing staff were enough to heal a man, he’d have been up and sent back to the Front in a week.

“It’s because I have sisters,” he said, he told her, when she admitted to him that she was idling and he didn’t truly need his pillows plumped yet again. “You’d like them, Di especially. She’s determined to become a VAD though what she really wants is to become a doctor like Dad.”

He was like that, Walter Blythe, charming and well-spoken, sharing bits of his life before the War, always wholesome and cheerful, making it seem to the nurses that he was unchanged from the man who’d set off from the Glen. The other patients enjoyed listening. It was a respite from the pain and boredom of recoveries that would only ever be incomplete.

He fooled everyone but Thomas Barrow.

*

Thomas watched Walter when no one else was looking. 

At rest, if there was such a thing, Walter’s face had an expression of blank horror, as if he looked into an abyss seething with the most monstrous visions, agony and annihilation. He pressed his lips together to keep from calling out, screaming, though not for help, for Thomas could see Walter believed he was beyond any assistance, befouled in a way that could never be made clean.

He shied away from the touch of any of the nurses, Sybil most especially, though he forced himself to be tended.

He ate little, crumbling rolls with his barely functional left hand, the right still bandaged. It wasn’t clear if another surgery would restore even the least function there, old Clarkson preferring to wait and see how Walter did overall, putting on weight, expressing any interest in getting out of the ward they’d made of a drawing room.

He liked music, better if it came from another room. He’d finish his cup of tea if Thomas stirred in another lump of sugar but left it black. He frowned whenever anyone mentioned his famous poem and never asked for the journal and pencil Sybil brought when she discovered he was a writer. He didn’t hate the Germans, never called them Huns.

He never wanted to re-read the letters he was sent from home.

*

Thomas didn’t exactly hang about, but he knew how to be present when he was needed. It was a skill that had helped him advance in service, though Carson frequently gave him his version of a dirty look if he noticed him lurking in a manner unbecoming an under-butler. 

Thomas wore his uniform, was caring for sick men, doing the heavy work that only the oldest and toughest of the nurses undertook. 

He ignored Carson. 

He paid attention to Walter.

The man had turned Sybil away when she offered to write another letter home for him, to his younger sister or his mother. Walter had smiled and thanked her and declined, with such grace Sybil walked away glowing, as if he’d granted her dearest wish.

Thomas knew this was his time to come round. That Walter would want to talk but only to someone who could understand.

"She writes a fair hand," Walter said, his voice rough, the words picked out slowly, his grey eyes trained on the man in front of him. The letter in his hand was a distant afterthought. "But they won't be satisfied until it's me writing them, Barrow. They won't ever be satisfied."

He began to turn his face away when Thomas spoke.

“No, I don’t suppose they ever will be. But you might be, Blythe. You might.”

*

“Not much like home,” Thomas said. He’d wheeled Walter out to the gardens, the prospect of fresh air alleged to tempt the men back to health. He’d not seen it make much difference and Nichols had wept and screamed to be brought back inside, but Mrs. Crawley kept fussing about it and he’d welcomed the chance for some conversation that couldn’t be overheard by a nurse or Carson. Walter had acquiesced because he did that and because Thomas had volunteered to manage his chair.

Now they sat together in the sunshine, a blanket over Walter’s lap, the sky a perfect blue. An idyll of a sort. Their sort.

“Not very. Beautiful but not like the Glen. Nor Rainbow Valley,” he said. 

“What’s Rainbow Valley?” Thomas asked. Once he would have sounded snide or mocking but today, Walter looking across the manicured grounds, something almost like a smile on his lips, Thomas only wanted to hear more.

“The woods behind Ingleside. Where I grew up. We had the run of it. I knew every tree there,” Walter said.

“On your own, were you?”

“Sometimes. Jem and I, he’s my older brother, we’d staked out our favorite spots, but we let the others come along. Jerry and Carl, Shirley, and the girls—Nan and Di, Faith. Una. But I went alone too. That’s where I wrote, most often,” Walter said. He had a big family and a number of friends, all of them happy and hale, a cheerful father who never laid a hand on them. A mother they all worshipped, who came to them in the night when they were ill or scared. A far cry from Thomas’s childhood but he didn’t find any envy within himself when Walter spoke of them.

Walter didn’t want to go home.

“Poetry, right?” Thomas said. “What you wrote.”

“You could call it that,” Walter said, making the gesture that was now his version of a shrug. 

“You don’t?”

“What did I know of the world, Barrow? I don’t think I could ever read what I wrote then,” Walter said. “It’s all bloody fucking pretty nonsense—”

“Maybe you were just young,” Thomas said. Walter’s eyes had a frantic look of a man about to break down. Thomas reached over, touched Walter’s arm where it rested on the chair. 

“I was young,” Walter said. “I dreamed such dreams. And now I can’t remember them without  wanting to be sick.”

“That passes,” Thomas said.

“You sound so certain,” Walter replied.

“I’ve got to be,” Thomas said. A confession. 

“It’s that way, then?” Walter asked.

“Just so,” Thomas answered.

*

“She’s got a face like a flower,” Walter said as Sybil walked across the room. Thomas had come over to tell her the Earl was asking for her, but it had been an excuse. A poor one, far weaker than anything he would have allowed himself before the War. Walter kept watching Sybil. Thomas felt his gorge rise.

“Thought you said you weren’t a poet anymore,” Thomas remarked.

“That’s not poetry,” Walter said. “It’s an observation any man here would make.”

“Not the way you made it,” Thomas said flatly.

“Is it an argument you want, Barrow?” Walter said. There was something in the way he said want, the way he said Barrow, something direct and stunning. It was irresistible.

“It’s what I can get,” he said.

There was a curious expression in Walter’s grey eyes that could never have been there before the trenches. Thomas suspected it had been there when Walter led the charge at Courcelette. When he hadn’t expected to return to the world.

“So sure,” he said softly. “So wrong.”

“Seems to me you’re arguing with me right now, Blythe,” Thomas said.

“I’m not arguing. I’m observing,” Walter said.

“Safer that way, isn’t it?” Thomas replied, giving them both an out. He looked down at his feet, the uneven shine on his boots. His hands resting on his thighs, the bandage around the maimed one. His ticket home, he’d thought it, before he got back to Downton and realized there wasn’t any leaving, only trying to find someone who was caught in the same way. Who cared, who could see a flower and turn away from its loveliness.

“Nothing’s safe. Not anymore,” Walter said. “Maybe it never was and I was just pretending—”

“Maybe you think too much,” Thomas said.

“What else do I have to do?” Walter said. 

“Ask for me,” Thomas heard himself say. He was shocked by the words, uttered aloud, a secret. A wish.

“I shall keep that in mind,” Walter said. 

*

Walter wasn’t getting any better.

That was Clarkson’s diagnosis, not Thomas’s, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t disagree with the man. Sybil, external optimist, pointed out that Corporal Blythe was able to stay awake for longer periods and had not turned away a meal in a week, and they all nodded, because those things were true.

They didn’t signify, not when it came to Walter’s progress. They were exhausting what could be done for him at Downton. Had done, except that no one liked to disappoint Sybil and there hadn’t been an urgent need for an empty bed. It couldn’t last.

“I’m an old crock, aren’t I, Barrow?” Walter said, not bitterly.

“If you exerted yourself more—”

“I have done. It’s no use,” Walter said. He smiled, his unmarked face terribly handsome, his hair in need of a cut. He’d begun to go grey, not only at the temples but scattered throughout. “I shan’t write again and I think I must become accustomed to this chair.”

“You’d put yourself in a grave if you could,” Thomas snapped.

“Yes. I think you’re right about that,” Walter said. “But I won’t do anything…foolish. I’m not capable of it. Just of being a fool, sickening on my folly—”

“Are you quoting someone again? Remember, that’s wasted on me,” Thomas said.

“No. A flight of fancy, a glimpse of Walter-Before. I told you, you wouldn’t care for him.”

Thomas turned and faced Walter directly. It was a rare gesture; most often Thomas was off to the side, pushing the chair, engaged in some work. Watching Walter across a room, obliquely. Concealed.

“You’ve got to try,” he said. “Else—”

The pause was long, long enough for another conversation to fill it, one of exhortation and coaxing, reassurance and even, possibly, declaration. 

“Time has been friend to neither of us,” Walter finally said. He knew about Thomas’s father the clockmaker and Thomas’s War. He knew that men at Downton didn’t go back to the Front, but they didn’t stay longer than a few months. They went to Glenside or Allison Court. Or they were sent home. 

“If you’d only try, Blythe,” Thomas said.

“Get me a pencil then,” Walter replied. “I need to be able to write my own letters.”

*

“Dear Thomas,

I find I cannot address you here as Barrow, though it was all that I called you at Downton Abbey. I will admit it was not the only way I thought of you by the end of my time there and I hope you don’t find that presumptuous, nor this letter. You did tell me to try and look where that’s landed me.

Oxford, as you must know from the envelope, if not through some other channel. I imagine Mrs. Crawley might have mentioned what became of poor Corporal Blythe. She is a kind lady, but she very much reminds me of a family friend, a Mrs. Rachel Lynde, who is famous for her forceful opinions and her determination to keep tabs on anyone who has ever crossed her path. Mrs. Crawley is perhaps a generation younger, but made in the same mold. If she is not quite as well-informed as Mrs. Rachel, I’ll explain what happened.

I couldn’t go home. 

It was not only the risk of the ship being sunk in the crossing, nor the difficulty my limited mobility posed, nor the expense my family might incur trying to make the trip comfortable and me even more a ruined crock dependent on their management and pocket-book. (I must inform you that writing a celebrated war-poem doesn’t yield any significant financial success and you have a good idea of what’s found in a corporal’s pay-packet.) I couldn’t make the journey and then arrive at the train station in the Glen, my family and all their closest friends and half the town lined up, scrubbed and dressed as if for a wedding, flowers and Susan’s best cake waiting for me at Ingleside. I couldn’t make my way off that train and face them, knowing what I know, being who I am now. And even less could I have faced every day thereafter, the praise and reassurance and consolation, their pride and their poorly concealed pity, the guilt in my father’s eyes, the gratitude in my mother’s. Of everyone, I could only imagine Una Meredith greeting me and not making me feel like a monster and as much as I love them all, I have to live with myself.

I left university to enlist and I need the chair more than you think I ought and I can’t expect my father to put me up in a London flat to molder, but I am a well-regarded poet of no little renown, at least at this moment, when all the better poets are trying to escape being gassed or shot, so I wrote to Oxford and they agreed to let me come and finish my degree and very likely become one of those Oxford dons who is never without their gown. A gown hides a multitude of injuries, I’ve discovered, from those around you and sometimes from you yourself, and when I cannot think of how to turn the page, I can pleat the Russell cord with my good hand and pay attention only to the texture of the material. It helps a little.

Other things do as well. The town is so very beautiful and so different from the Glen and the Front. It is a place that does well with ghosts, so the relative absence of young men isn’t felt quite so much, and the smell of the stone and the old books is a tonic. It can be hard to get around, but that’s true for many of the elderly professors. The tea is not as as well-brewed as Mrs. Patmore’s but that was to be expected. My coursework occupies me, the distance of the past a balm. I believe if I could study the people here before the Druids, I’d find that even more comforting, but allegory and mysticism suit me well. I’ve begun to learn Old English and if I can’t find it within myself to write poetry, I can at least appreciate those old works and take respite there.

You must be frowning at my nonsense or wishing I’d written something more practical. I couldn’t blame you—I don’t, Thomas. I miss you, that expression in your blue eyes and the curl of your lip, your calm, your sense of shadows. I should have asked any number of questions before I left Downton Abbey, but I didn’t, so I must ask them now and hope for the best. I have no idea what leave you are entitled to and how you choose to use yours; I know you don’t have the same rapport with your sister as I had with mine, but I don’t know if you have friends you’d visit or prefer to travel to London and escape the country. I don’t know if you would want to come and see me but I would like it, very much. I could promise not to ramble on too much about old manuscripts or interrogate you about Dr. Clarkson and la belle dame Lady Mary. We might go punting on the Cherwell, though you’d have to do the work while I regaled you from a position of repose, or I could stand you a pint or three at the King’s Arms. The porter for my hall is rather a friend of mine and would find a camp-bed if I asked, so you needn’t fret about finding lodgings. It would be just as you like, for as long as you like.

You told me once to ask for you. And now, Thomas, I have. Will you come?

Walter.”

@tortoisesshells gave me "my Heart -- my Eye outweighs" as a fic I wouldn't write but then I did write it, though I renamed it.

[juleshollow]

Obviously Sybil sucks and all but at one point with Street Smart you can tease Tabitha about "picking up tea" meaning buying drugs and Sybil will play along and tell you she has "the best devil's lettuce" in town. So we have to give her credit for that.

[soulsxng]

🎰 this is a perfect way to make friends, trust me

@suizokukans | Crackship Roulette | No longer accepting!

Etoile & Death (I can see Death taking an interest in her, which means they'll poke around her asking lots of questions, and otherwise messing with/playing tricks on her. As long as they don't get on her nerves with their antics, it should be okay. They, uh...tend to be good at getting on people's nerves, though.)

"You should be careful doing that kind of thing when there are still humans around. They tend to be pretty weird about violence, after all!" The Horseman smiles as they hang upside down from a street sign, watching the curly haired woman with a smile that's likely just as eerie as it is amused. "What'd they do, anyway? Do tell!"

Tomio & Vanyllo (P robably not. Nyl honestly doesn't give humans the time of day, and if he does...it's usually because he was hired to kill one for some reason, or because they bugged him first. Both cases would NOT end well for poor Tomio orz)

He's sunbathing on a stony outcropping near the shore, tail tapping leisurely against the water below. It had seemed like the area was deserted at first, but a gasp nearby eventually had him raising his head and looking over to the source of the noise with a little frown...it seemed a human had seen him.

"It's rude to stare. I mean, I know I'm pretty and all, but come on. You act like you've never seen a guy with a tail before." He's being sarcastic. Trying to decide if the human would run off on their own, or if he would have to head out, instead.

Sybil & Zikiriel (As soon as I saw this one, I felt like they would have a sort of cute dynamic-- whatever that dynamic might end up being. I can see Zi trying to watch over her a little, especially with her troubles with memory loss!)

"Miss? Are you alright? You seem a little...lost." The angel had noticed her a minute or two prior, and the more he watched, the more he was convinced that something wasn't right. "If you need some help, I'd be happy to offer some assistance."

Kiyoshi & Alsina (I could see them getting along, though Alsina would probably poke fun at Kiyoshi here and there, with how gullible he is. That aside though, she's pretty easy going, and is more than happy to jump into a conversation about anything and everything!)

"Incidentally, I have never been somewhere like this, before. I am, ah...hypoglycemic (or close enough, anyway. She hoped she was remembering the right term!) so I simply came into the first restaurant I passed." Her eyes scanned over the menu for a moment, before ordering tea, alongside something sweet. "Is this place supposed to be for entertainment and food, then?"

Julius & Zeqyabin (I think they could balance each other out pretty well, even just in the fact that Zebi tends to be pretty lowkey, and quiet; happy to sit back and listen to others talk. Julius' flair for the dramatic would also remind him a little bit of one of two of his loved ones too, so he'd be relaxing around Julius pretty early on)

The demon is crouched down at the base of a tree, and seems to be collecting something growing on it. A type of moss, that he was carefully tucking into a bag. He probably looks pretty odd when the stranger notices him, but Zebi doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he even flashes the other a friendly smile, and a wave!

[adoracora-elizabeth]

The truth always comes out, chapter 33

“How am I going to tell this to Papa?" Sybil asked Tom.

"Or your mother?" Tom said.

Sybil looked at Tom. "I am not worried about her reaction. Mama will understand, she will be hurt…….." Sybil stopped. "Oh no."

Tom took Sybil’s hands in his. "What is it?"

"Mama is still healing from the divorce, and now I am adding even more hurt on her."

"She is a strong woman."

Sybil let out a deep sigh. "We do not have a choice. We need to tell them. Let's start with Mama."

+++

Cora watered the flowers in the garden. She had found a cosy home in Richmond. Close to the river Thames, where she made daily walks. Although she was on her own, she was happy here.

All three girls had their own room, something that was especially important for Cora. They did not use those rooms a lot, but she needed them to have their own private place.

She walked towards her front door when the doorbell sounded. "Sybil darling, Tom, I did not know you were coming?"

"We did not tell you. Can we come in, or are you busy?" She looked at her mother’s clothes. She was wearing dungarees with a simple t-shirt underneath. She had never seen her mother like this before, but she liked to see her free spirit come out. She had always known her mother was like her.

Cora brushed her hands over her clothes, to get the dirt off them. "I always have time for you. Come in. Tea?"

They sat down in the garden. It was lovely spring weather.

"We have some news." Sybil started.

Cora looked from Tom to Sybil. "You are pregnant?" She stated.

Sybil coloured.

"Oh darling, that is wonderful." Cora jumped up and wrapped her arms around her.

"We have more news. We are also married." Sybil held out her hand and showed her ring to her mother.

Cora took her hand without a word. She did not know how to react to this news. "I think I have to congratulate you two with your marriage."

Sybil wrapped her fingers around Cora’s hand. "You are not upset?" She asked.

Cora looked up and contemplated for a second before she answered. Of course, she was upset that her daughter got married without her mother present. Cora had always dreamed of her girls' wedding days. But Sybil and Tom must have had a good reason to marry in secret. "I am not upset, darling. I would have loved to be there. But no, I am not upset."

"We thought it was best not to have a big wedding because of his Lordship and your situation." Tom said, putting his hand on Sybil's knee.

"You can call him Robert. There is no need for you to be formal. And please also start calling me Cora. I am your mother-in-law now."

"Do you mean that, Mama?" Sybil asked.

"Darling, I understand and agree that it was not the time for a big wedding. I also understand that you two wanted to be married well before this news will announce itself." Cora put her hand on Sybil’s belly. "How far along are you?" She felt a slight bulge she thought.

"I am well into my fourth month and am starting to show a little already."

Cora kissed Sybil’s cheek and got up to hug Tom. She kissed both his cheeks. "Welcome to the family, Tom." She looked at Sybil. "And do I need to call you Mrs. Branson now?

"May I present to you, Lady Sybil Branson née Crawley." Tom said with a wide smile.

+++

Robert put down his pen and looked at his watch. He got an instant smile on his face. Mary would come soon with Matthew. She was spending her days more at his place, then at home. He could not blame her, since Cora had left, he was not the nicest person to be around. He did not drink, he knew Mrs. Hughes did keep track of his drinking and he was thankful. Being drunk would not improve anything about the situation. He had to accept that Cora was gone and would never come back. According to Rosamund´s reports she was as happy as she could be in Richmond. He saw pictures of the house she found, and he was surprised by the size. He had thought she would buy something bigger. But there was exactly enough room for the four of them. Cora and her girls. He felt a lump in his throat. it would never be them and their girls anymore. Of course, he was happy Cora was able to go on with her life. He only hoped she would miss him too, as he missed her incredibly. There was not a day that he did not want to walk to her sitting room or walk into her bedroom. Since Cora had left, he let one of the guest bedrooms remodel, to a room for him. He could not sleep in his dressing room, and he tried sleeping in Cora´s old bedroom, but those nights he did not got a wink of sleep. He was tossing and turning and reaching for her hand. He still smelt her smell on the pillow. Although he had not been in her room for weeks now, so he was not sure her smell would still be there.

"What are you dreaming of?" Mary's voice sounded.

Robert shook up. "Good to see you Mary, Matthew." He got up to shake his hand. "Ready to dive into the world of Downton?"

Matthew nodded. "Very much ready. We should start with the books?"

"Books? What do you mean by that?" Robert asked.

"Matthew, maybe you should Papa be the lead in this?" Mary was not sure her father would like Matthew’s approach.

"I am sorry, I am so eager to start, that I want to go to fast. With the books I mean the records off how the financial status of the estate is. But Mary is right, you are the expert here and I will follow."

Robert frowned; he did not like it when other people messed with the numbers. He had everything in order according to himself and he did not need anybody to help him. He took a deep breath because he knew he needed to learn to let things go. In the end, Matthew would see the numbers. If he really intended to share the running of this estate. But for that there must first be a marriage he thought.

[yelena-bellova]

I agree that tv ask game is perfect for Friday night 😍😍😍😍

hmm. how about you do Downton abbey?

And I end up doing it on Saturday morning hahaha

1: Favorite episode and why

I can’t remember where it is in s2, but I love the one where Sybil finally confesses she loves Tom.

2: Funniest/crackiest/it’s-terrible-but-I-still-love-it episode/scene

Anything with Maggie Smith was hilarious. I love the scene (I think in s5 or 6?) where Violet is ill and Isobel’s been nursing her back to health and they’re playing cards and she’s absolutely exhausted by all of Isobel’s attention but carries on.

3: It’s-terrible-and-I-hate it episode/scene

Okay, I hate the episode where Sybil dies, but it is an incredibly emotional episode. The acting alone is breathtaking, but I hardly ever watch it because it makes me cry.

4: Best episode/scene for my favorite character

Sybil remains my favorite and I love the scene where she’s desperately trying to find some purpose and is baking cakes in the kitchen and just completely failing.

5: Best episode/scene for my favorite ship

When Tom and Sybil run away and get caught and Sybil goes back to Downton, but she promises Tom she’s still going to marry him. Absolutely gets me every time.

6: Best episode/scene for a particular supporting character

Anyone who knows me knows that I can’t stand Lily James, but I do love the scene in what I believe is the finale where Rose takes Robert to see Cora speaking at the hospital, I believe? It was a moment where you could tell Rose had matured, which was desperately needed lol.

7: Best episode/scene for a character I don’t usually like

Not gonna lie, I wasn’t the biggest Daisy fan, but I loved when she and Mr. Mason finally had lunch and they started to develop that relationship after William’s death.

8: Most visually beautiful or interesting episode/scene

I adore the scene in the first movie (yes, I’m jumping screens lol) where Carson and Mrs. Hughes are walking home and the camera pulls back to reveal the whole house. I also love the scene where Edith is walking in the morning and the sun is just rising so perfectly.

9: Most emotionally affecting episode/scene

Either Sybil’s death or William’s death.

10: Most powerful use of music in an episode/scene

The score to the whole show was just magnificent. My favorite has always been Love and the Hunter, which plays primarily in 1x02 (might be 1x03) when Mary’s hunting with Mr. Pamuk and Evelyn Napier.

11: Episode/scene that changed my perspective on the show

I think the s1 finale was a game changer for me because it showed just how serious of a place we were going in the next season. Yes, it’s a show about tea and dresses and petty little problems, but once it started handling the war, it took a whole different turn.

12: Episode/scene where the acting stands out

I cannot remember the episode but the scene where Anna and Bates finally talk about Anna being r**** was just…some of the best acting they’d ever done.

13: Overall best-written episode

I really don’t think I can pick just one episode. I think s3 was the most well-written season, though.