#thank you so much for letting me use your apprentice dear~

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Out of the obey me cast, who do you think would have the most interesting reaction to mc/reader basically ripping someone apart for them?

Like someone insulted Mammon or Asmodeus and

now they are simply blood on a wall.

Down Bad | Yandere Obey Me

Who has the most interesting reaction to their sweet lamb completely bodying whoever for simply insulting them? That’s hard all of them at this point are whipped by your charm and are collectively honored by your defense. But those that stand out the most:

Barbatos

“Hahaha, thank you sweetest. Now please let me start you a bath and get you a new change of clothes.”

Surface-wise he doesn’t react all that much

But behind closed doors, he’s fighting the urge to swoop you up right up

Isn’t it just precious that his dear a mere human would go so far as to defend him

A demon you’re not even bonded to yet

You’re just so precious he can’t help but want to indulge in every dark deep-ridden desire with you 

But he can’t now 

So he’ll settle for admiring you during your stay while you’re sleeping

But he can only deny himself for so long

You best not egg him on further

Oh please do

Belphegor

“Geez overreaction much.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine, next time keep him alive longer so we can both have fun.”

He’s so used to fighting in your defense

This is refreshing

Who’s he kidding it's more than just refreshing

It's addictive 

He dreams about it 

Usually wet dreams

And he’s on such a high he’s sure he has enough energy to go on a spree or two

He might want to stir up trouble just to watch you do it again

Solomon

“Oi oi, my apprentice sure has become powerful. Good job!”

He’s actually kind of intimidated by your own ability to protect yourself

He was already planning to torture the stupid demon for embarrassing him in front of you

But you beat him to it

Shame, if he knew you could do that he wouldn’t bother hiding his…activities

But maybe he shouldn’t be so lackadaisical about his own smiting

Granted he enjoyed their struggling cries and fruitless attempts to escape

But he doesn’t want to assume you’re into that

But he really is impressed 

He’ll have to be more specific about who’s the enemy in his hero scheme

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.13}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) - (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

Word Count: 4.6k

After nudging a small roll of bandages towards you, Tara lays down by your side, her chin resting on your thigh, tail swishing with a mix of irritation and concern. You accept the assistance, unrolling the bandages and beginning to wrap your neck, wincing at the uncomfortable stinging of the two small holes on the left of your throat. One of Tara’s paws lifts to lay on your thigh as well, and her head turns, scanning the area for fear of your attacker making a second attempt.

“We need to find Gale immediately. I don’t– Had I known the area would be so dangerous, I would’ve brought more protective clothing. I should’ve had the dagger with me. Gods, vampires… I never would have imagined I’d run into one. Let alone be attacked by one,” you sigh, bringing the strip of bandage to your teeth and biting into it, ripping the fabric and setting the roll back down, tucking the torn end into the wrap around your neck. Your hand runs over Tara’s head, petting her to show your appreciation. “Thank you. You probably saved my life.”

“The bastard needed a good clawing. Ought to teach him a lesson, make him think twice before attacking innocents in the woods! What a fool. I hope I gifted him a scar or two,” she hisses, tail thrashing and puffing up as she recalls her defense of you. Then she settles, her ears pressing back against her head as she looks up at you, then visually inspects your bandaged neck. “Are you alright?”

“I will be. He didn’t take much blood, thanks to you. It stings, but it’ll heal in time,” you reply, your thumb brushing her head once more before you return the bandage to your adventuring pack, scooting it closer to yourself so that you have a better chance of retrieving your dagger should anything, vampires or otherwise, choose to strike. “You said Gale should be somewhere nearby, right?”

“Indeed. Fortunately for us, he’s not the quickest-moving adventurer to roam, so we have a good chance of catching up to him rather quickly, so long as we are precise and efficient in our hunt,” she replies, backing off of your leg as you lay back down on your bedroll, pulling the thin blanket you’d packed over your body. Tara spins in a circle a few times next to you, her paws kneading at the grass before she eventually lays down, curled up with the tip of her tail resting near her face, her back against your side. “I’ll stay awake for a little while longer to ensure no pasty beasts pose you any threat.”

“Aren’t you tired?” You ask, looking over at her as her gaze continues to flick around the trees, seeing far better in the dark forest shadows than you ever could. 

“Very much so. Alas, Mr. Dekarios would surely dismiss me if I let his darling apprentice be harmed in such a way. And Mr. Dekarios most certainly could not survive without me. It’s a miracle he’s made it this far,” she chuckles, her wings twitching at the thought of upsetting him. “He cares quite deeply for you, dear.”

You roll your eyes with a dismissive scoff, looking up at the starryscape above you, her words being just thought-provoking enough to draw you away from registering the subtle pain in your neck. “With only two companions to care for, it’s hardly surprising that I get a hefty portion. Compared to someone with a… larger social circle, that is.”

Tara’s wing thumps against your side as a scolding, and she huffs, rumbling out a subtle growl of disapproval. “Oh, hush. You and I both know his affections run deeper than that. He sees you as more than a mere companion,” she argues. “He’s very fond of you. Gods know he’d never admit it to himself. But a tressym always knows.”

“He is?” You can’t help but ask, finding a small smile spreading over your mouth, as embarrassing as the sensation is. You don’t really see it, but Tara knows him better. Any interactions you’d had with him were perfectly innocent, and not romantic in the slightest. Just normal, unassuming conversations and whatnot. The sorts of discussions and time spent together that was completely expected from a mentor-apprentice relationship. 

Things like studying, and learning, and… stargazing. Errand-running, tidying, dozing off on his arm in front of a warm fire. Nothing that should arouse any sort of suspicion, or pining. Tara’s head nods, and she replies with a gentle “Oh, naturally. You ought to see the way he writes about you.”

Your head lifts at the expense of your comfort, eyes narrowed at the familiar. “He Writes about me?” You question, mind immediately drifting to that gods forsaken book you’d read in his room, a subject you still aren’t entirely sure of your opinion on. 

“Yes, in letters to his mother. He speaks so highly of you, mighty proud of your progress. Both as his apprentice and as his friend,” she clarifies, allowing you to breathe a quiet huff of relief. “I must ask, dear, is the fondness mutual?”

“I respect him a lot, as my mentor, and just… as such an accomplished wizard,” you praise, but Tara eyes you closely, urging you to answer more directly. You lay back down, looking up at the stars for guidance once more. “I think what we have is nice. I don’t want to lose that.”

“Fools, the both of you,” she scolds.

“Tara…” You groan, closing your eyes to try and steady yourself, not entirely understanding why she’s being so insistent. 

“No, no, I understand. Truly, I do. Mr. Dekarios fears his own mortality too intensely to dabble in his feelings. You fear his rejection. Both of you fear losing one another. Mr. Dekarios runs from any reminder of his all-too-mortal body, emotions included. And you, dear, run from the threat of change,” she elaborates, her tone entirely self-assured, as if she knows you better than you know yourself.

It irritates you. With a frown, you pinch the bridge of your nose and turn onto your side, your back to her. “Gale has been perfectly clear in his disinterest in romantics. And don’t act like you understand my fears – or even understand me. You hardly know me, Tara.”

“Ah, but a tressym always knows. Do as you please. Keep running. When your paws ache and your lungs are empty, it will be Mr. Dekarios who catches you. And then we shall see just what you were running from,” she tuts, her confidence still irking you, but you stay quiet this time. You need rest, so you figure it’s easier if you let her get away with her unreasonable fantasies. Entirely unreasonable.

–   –   –

Waking up granted him one, all-consuming, far-too-powerful feeling; Pain.

Pain in his legs, his arms, his gut, and most uncomfortably, his head. Soreness from the exercise of the past few days had truly taken its toll on his muscles, and last night’s celebration served a hellish punishment on the parts of his body not already burdened by the exhaustion. He’d had the strangest of dreams last night; visited by some otherworldly spirit, the exact details a blur he hadn’t yet recalled, humming a tale about something-or-other concerning the parasite, but frankly he’d been far too drunk when he’d gone to bed, and he struggled to grasp the particulars. 

That’s likely all it was – side-effects of his state mixed with his stress, granting him strange visions to join his raging headache. A hangover most unpleasant. 

It seemed the consensus was the same for everyone else in camp. Lae’zel hadn’t indulged much, or perhaps had a complete immunity to the effects of a morning after drinking, but the other two bore their own wine-induced scars. 

Astarion more literally than Shadowheart, oddly enough. Shadowheart knelt by the river, fighting off her nausea in the only way she knew how – throwing up last night’s regrets, and Gale would probably join her quite soon, but he was a little more intrigued by the strange scratches spanning over Astarion’s nose and cheeks. 

“Encounter a feral cat in your sleep?” He asks, and Astarion gives a quick, unhappy glare towards the wizard, but he’s far from threatened by him. 

“Took a walk last night. I’m not the most nimble drunkard – tripped over an inconveniently-placed log, where a patch of bramble awaited me,” Astarion replies, tapping his fingers to the dried cuts, checking for any leaking blood. “Merely an unpleasant coincidence, darling. We have larger things to worry about.” He motions with his head towards Halsin, who’s standing a few yards away, buckling the leather straps on his large upper arms.

“Do those serve any real purpose?” Gale wonders aloud, and Astarion chuckles, shaking his head.

“Doubtful. I expect they’re just for looks. As if those muscles weren’t distracting enough,” he teases in return. Gale cracks a small smile, bringing himself to his feet and running a hand through his hair, doing his best to neaten it, even if the change is quite minor. Once he’s vertical, he feels the lingering wine bubble up in his throat, and quickly excuses himself, rushing to join Shadowheart in her purge.

After a few minutes, once they’re positive that they’re ready to proceed, Gale reaches out a hand and helps the cleric to her feet, granting her a reassuring smile. Shadowheart dips her head in appreciation, straightening her headpiece and clearing her throat, deciding to make small talk. “Next time we host, we ought to have someone guarding the reserves. Had anything happened last night, none of us would have been in a proper enough state for defense.”

“Couldn’t agree more. Though Lae’zel seemed well-off enough,” he replies, looking over at where the Githyanki puts on the heavier pieces of her armor, wiping them free of any dirt. 

Shadowheart scoffs quietly, raising an eyebrow at Gale. “I’d sooner label her the very enemy we need defense from, than to imply she’d be the defender. I’m rather surprised none of us found ourselves with a dagger to our throats in the middle of the night. Hesitate when trusting her, Gale. She’s yet to show her true colors,” Shadowheart hums, her defensive pride showing through in her tone, and Gale replies with a frown. 

“She hasn’t tried to kill us yet. So long as these parasites are in our heads, I take it she’s on our side. She’s a solid warrior, and one we are lucky to have fighting for us,” he attempts to defend, but Shadowheart isn’t so quick to agree. 

“I fear it’s the parasites that make us her enemy. Githyanki aren’t prone to very efficient logical reasoning. They have a sworn rival, and as long as we have these mind flayer spawn with us, we are but an incubating version of those very rivals. Just don’t be too surprised if she decides to attack someday soon.” She, too, looks over at Lae’zel now, her expression one of hardly-muted disgust. 

“I assume you’re not too keen on seeking out the crèche she speaks of, then?” Gale hums, taking a few steps back towards the unlit campfire. He spots Astarion talking to Halsin as the druid checks over his own armor. 

“I’m desperate enough for a cure that I’m willing to try our hand at any possibility. Do I trust that we’ll be saved there? Hardly. More likely, our heads will be stuffed onto spikes for a gruesome display. But our selection of options are thinning by the day, so I don’t see much other choice than to make an attempt,” she responds, taking an extra second before she follows Gale’s steps, her focus still mostly on the githyanki she spoke of. “I suppose you have… some kind of a point. For all of her flaws, she is quite efficient in battle.” 

Gale chuckles, nudging the half-elf with a certain playfulness in his movements. “Ah, see? You’re warming up to her. I’m sure the two of you will be gossiping over tea before long,” he teases. 

Shadowheart’s eyebrows raise in disagreement, and she gives the slightest shake of her head. “Let’s… not get ahead of ourselves. I merely tolerate her. Nothing less, and most definitely nothing more.” She stops walking alongside him, motioning loosely towards her tent. “Pleasure… purging with you, Gale. I’m going to excuse myself before I get distracted. I’m sure the journey today will leave room for plenty more small talk.”

“We shall see,” he agrees, dipping his head as she turns and heads back to her tent to prepare for whatever the day may bring. Gale contemplates returning to his own tent to dress in more battle-ready clothing, but he notices a sudden flash of concern over Halsin’s face, and decides to investigate. 

“Oh, you caught me,” Astarion concedes, his tone a little too dramatic to be genuine, but Halsin seems too worried to notice. “The truth is a little less kind to my reputation. I don’t remember specifics, exactly, just that I somehow found myself facing off against a rather angry red squirrel,” he sighs, keeping his voice barely above a whisper, as if attempting to keep the conversation private.

“Ah, worry not about your reputation, Astarion. Nature sees the best and worst of us. It’s no surprise – some creatures are quite territorial around these parts. Especially with the approaching mating season. I won’t judge your drunken quarrel with a squirrel,” Halsin comforts, and Astarion seems a little confused for a moment, especially as Halsin places a hand on his shoulder, but he eventually snaps out of it.

“I was hoping you could repair what damage those little claws dealt. Not much one for battle scars. More your style – and well-so. If it isn’t too much trouble, of course…” The pale elf puts up a mock pout, and Gale smiles to himself, deciding the conversation no longer warrants his eavesdropping. As he turns his aim back to his own tent, he hears Halsin murmuring a healing spell of some sort, obliging Astarion’s request. 

Gale steps inside of his tent, one that he purchased from a vendor at the grove, much like the rest of them did. It’s small, but adequate enough – and purple, no less. He’s not one to complain, especially not with the situation they’re in. Sifting through a small adventurer’s pack, he removes the purple robe he’d been wearing when the abduction occurred, and zips up the entrance as he changes. 

There’s no telling what the day holds in store for them. New companions, new battles, new discoveries galore – Gale doesn’t have a single clue. All he can do is hope they manage to take one step closer to a cure. 

–   –   –

“She looks… injured?” You whisper, narrowing your eyes at the blurry figure of a red, faintly humanoid-esque shape in the distance. You can’t see much, as you’re quite far back, but she seems to be hunched over, and you hear what sounds like pained groaning, but you’re not entirely sure. 

“And positively dangerous,” Tara hisses, her tail stiffened in the air as she pulls back, claws unsheathed and ready to strike. “You must be mad to think of approaching her!” 

“Tara, what if she’s seen Gale? We should investigate. Worst case scenario, we’ll just make a run for it. We should at least get a little closer,” you whisper, sneaking forward, seeing that the figure is on a small ledge across the river, a fallen log acting as a bridge between the side that you stood on now, and her side. 

“My– Has he taught you no self-preservation?!” Tara yowls, though she too keeps that yowl down to a whisper, and you hush her, earning a scoff of disbelief from the tressym. 

As you near her, you see that she is, indeed, slightly hunched over, with her arms folded over her abdomen. She’s a tiefling, which you could have assumed from the redness of her skin, though she only bears one, curved horn. The groans are certainly uncomfortable ones, but not quite pained – more so just burdened. Even as you near her, she’s too preoccupied to notice your approach. 

“I do believe the woman is on fire,” Tara remarks, though quickly silences herself as you take another step, now standing on the opposite end of the log from her.

“Are you okay?” You call out, and immediately her head lifts, locking eyes with you.

“Hells, not another one – Stay back!” She yells, and you furrow your brows, not understanding. You aren’t sure if it’s a warning or a threat that her words carry, and you’re not given a chance to decipher the exact connotation before her expression softens, immediately killing any fear of her. “Shit. You’re not one of them, are you?”

You step closer, much to the dismay of the tressym at your heel, who’s tail is now swishing back and forth with an ever-intensifying defensiveness. The woman takes a small step back, and you immediately take notice of flames carried on her shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the flames were originating from her, but that’s surely impossible, right…? “Not one of who?” You ask, head tilting as you take yet another step, now standing on the log. 

“Those damned fake paladins,” she replies, groaning for a moment, and the flames around her intensify, as if sent from the hells themselves. Now that you’re even closer, it’s undeniable that the flames are originating from her – exactly how, you have no idea, but you know for a fact that your eyes don’t deceive you. “Careful, soldier, I’d keep your distance if I were you.”

“You’re on fire. Are you okay?” You ask again, and the woman chuckles at your question, the flames seeming to calm down after a few moments. She stands up fully, and whatever intimidation had faded comes back, albeit much gentler, but it returns nonetheless. She’s tall, and decidedly strong, if her build is anything to judge by. Yet, despite her intimidation factor, you don’t quite fear her. She smiles, a nervous one but still somehow optimistic, and it… somehow eases you. Maybe by means of magic? You’re not sure.

“I’ll be alright. Just got a little heated. The name’s Karlach. Well met, soldier,” she introduces and holds out a hand, though near-instantly retracts it and shakes that hand at her side, extinguishing the few flames lingering on her palm. Her attention shifts to Tara, and her grin widens, eyes following suit. Karlach places her palms on her knees and squats down, giggling at Tara as she bares her teeth and hisses again, clearly still not a fan. “Hey, kitty, kitty! Aren’t you a cute lil’ thing?”

You look down at Tara as well, watching as she inspects the woman again, backing up and taking shelter behind your ankles, suspicious of her intentions. “Nice to meet you, Karlach. This is Tara… Sorry, she’s, uh…” You glance around, and then chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Not used to being out in the wild. More of an indoor cat– ow!” You grumble as Tara’s wing roughly smacks against your leg, and you’re quick to correct yourself; “An indoor tressym, sorry.”

“Gods, she’s adorable! Never seen a cat with wings before,” she remarks, standing up once more, and Tara hisses her complaints. “Oh, right, uh– What’d you call her? Testin’? Tressym?” She corrects, and then raises a finger and waves it, her wide grin returning. “Hold it! I’ve got just the thing,” she giggles, her playfulness throwing you for a bit of a loop. You wouldn’t have expected such a friendly attitude on a woman as objectively scary as her. Karlach turns around and reaches into a leather pack, pulling out a long, silver-scaled fish and tossing it onto the bank behind you. 

Tara’s eyes follow it with striking accuracy, and you notice a few dark dots littering the upper half of the fish, a mark typical of salmon. There’s no more than 4 seconds between the fish landing and Tara nearly pouncing on it, sniffing and pawing at the limp prey as if she were no less distinguished than a common housecat. You chuckle at the sight before returning your attention to Karlach, who begins cracking her knuckles as if preparing for a fight. You seriously hope she doesn’t mean to fight you. 

“You asked if I was one of those ‘fake paladins’,” you remind, stepping a little closer and assuming a more casual stance, hoping to put her off of the idea of fighting you, if she had any plans to. “Who were you talking about?”

Karlach groans, stretching her interlocked arms above her head and rolling her shoulders. “Ugh. It’s a long story, scout, so I’ll save you the borin’ bits. Important part is, a bunch’a evil bastards are on my tail – hunting little ol’ me all the way from the hells,” she scowls, her shoulders dropping, and now you notice a red tail behind her, typical of tieflings, that sways in irritation. “Now, before you assume wrong, I should probably clarify that I’m not some escaped devil, or, like, some evil that they’re trying to drag back down to Avernus for good reason. Nah, it’s this bitch named Zariel sending her attack dogs after me ‘cause I hitched a ride on a nautiloid ship and got out of her enslavement,” she boasts, placing her hands on her hips and nodding. 

Nautiloid – the word sounds familiar. Very, very faintly familiar, and you try to recall where you’ve heard it before. It only takes a second before you instantly remember mention of nautiloid ships piloted by mind flayers in a book about, well, mind flayers. The ships were capable of jumping between astral planes and posed quite the threat, but had become the stuff of legends in Faerûn, at least until one crashed somewhere in the Dalelands, but you don’t remember the specifics of that event. 

So… either this woman was completely insane, lying to your face, or somehow, against all realms of possibility, had been kidnapped by mind flayers and dropped somewhere in Faerûn, all the way from Avernus. You weren’t particularly eager for any of those options to be true. 

Shaking your head with a small scoff, you decide to question her further; “Sorry – a nautiloid? How did you… escape it? Or survive it? What happened to it?” 

Karlach laughs, pointing finger-guns at you. “Aw, you’re a funny one!” She jokes, and though it takes her a few seconds, she seems to catch onto the fact that you’re being completely serious. “Oh, damn. You’re not joking? You been livin’ under a rock? Yeah, no, it was a disaster, really. Whole thing just crashed and burned. Like, literally. Pshewf.” Her hands meet in front of her chest and then explode in a mock explosion as she imitates the noise, following the description with a hearty chuckle. “Not a whole lotta survivors. Surprised it didn’t shake the earth enough to make the mountains fall. You really didn’t know?” 

“I’m… not from around here. How long ago was this?” You can’t help but let your curiosity get the best of you. Even if it probably isn’t connected to whatever might be happening with Gale, you figure it’s best to explore any chance you have of following clues back to him, or solve whatever puzzle you’ve been tasked with piecing together in his wake. And, to be fair, this does seem like a pretty major event. 

“Couple days ago. Like, ten, maybe? Dunno, not the best with time… Man, you picked a reaaaal bad time to take a vacation. Hate to be the one to spoil it, scout,” Karlach hisses through her teeth, cringing at her guilt. She then leans in towards you, a slight frown on her face. “Listen, I don’t wanna overwhelm you or anything, I’m sure this is a lot to take in, but those assholes are on my tail, and it’s only a matter of time before they find me coolin’ off down here. I’d be more than happy to answer any questions you have, but I need you to do me a favor n’ help me throw the yappers off my scent. Or… keep ‘em from smellin’ ever again, if you catch my drift.” She giggles with a sense of mischief, and you can’t help but trust her. Maybe it’s foolish to, but she seems genuine – and she seemed to trust you pretty easily, which makes you doubt that she’d be lying about such a thing. 

“I’m… not really built for fighting anyone off. Not sure I’d be of much help,” you confess, raising your shoulders in an attempt to display your apologies. “I’m not familiar with the area – like, at all – but I’m happy to try and help you escape them.”

Karlach thinks over the offer for a moment, and she looks a little disappointed that she won’t have your assistance in battle, but she ultimately nods and gives you a thumbs up. “I appreciate it – means a lot that you’re willing to help me. I wish everyone around here was as accepting as you. It’s been a while since I’ve been on the surface, so I’m afraid I’m probably not the person to ask for directions. But, hey–!” Karlach grins again, the optimism behind the expression noticeably contagious. “Would much rather be clueless together, yeah? Figure it out as we go, and all that.”

You feel a presence at your feet once more, and Tara sits on the log, eyes slightly narrowed at Karlach, but she’s no longer anywhere near defensive. The reason why is quickly explained when you notice that Karlach’s peace offering to her is nothing more than a frail, fish-shaped skeleton now. “Actually, I’m here because I’m looking for a… friend of mine. His name is Gale – he’s human, middle-aged, shoulder-length brown hair, likes to make cheesy book references…?” 

She looks off to the right for a moment, a finger pressed to her chin, but soon she shakes her head, shrugging. “Not ringin’ any bells. Sorry, scout. I’m happy to help you look for him though, once we’re well off-and-away from those paladin-posin’ asses.” Karlach glances down at Tara, and she leans down again. “And before you go thinkin’ I forgot about you, I promise I’ll pay my weight in fish. Wouldn’t risk gettin’ on your bad side, kitty,” she teases, and you think about telling her that Tara is way more conscious of what’s happening than Karlach seems to think, but Tara has yet to say anything, so you refrain from breaking the illusion for the time being. 

“We should get going, then. I don’t want to risk running into these hunters of yours,” you advise, and Karlach stands up again, stretching once more before grabbing her backpack and a bedroll, approaching you where you stand on the log.

“Yup, I gotcha. Any danger comes our way, just stick close to Mama K, alright?” She hums, almost singing the rhyme before laughing to herself, and you chuckle as well, nodding in agreement. 

You definitely weren’t expecting to find a second companion before you found Gale, but Karlach seems more than valuable in battle, and you’re certain that she’s a way better protector than your dagger could ever be, so you’re not complaining. Not that Tara isn’t also a fine defender, but should anything stronger than a cowardly vampire pick a fight with you, you doubt that Tara would be able to do all of the heavy lifting. Definitely not the kind of heavy lifting Karlach seems like she would be capable of. 

So, the three of you set off back the way you came, hoping to find safety – and, ideally, answers – as quickly as possible, and preferably without having to fight for either of them. 

[amorest-viesse]

[Thank You For Your Endless Warmth] - Chloe SSR Card Story Translation

Ft. Akira and Western wizard cameos

The Flowermist Wonderland With You ~An Invitation for Chloe~ - Chapter 1

[Dining Room]

For Chloe's birthday, the Western wizards had organized a grand party with the entire manor in attendance.

Once the festivities ended however, only the Western wizards and I remained in the dining hall.

Chloe: Thank you so much for today!

Chloe: The party was absolutely incredible. I didn’t think you’d go so far for me.

Akira: I’m glad that you liked it.

Shylock: Hehe, it’s only natural we would. Everyone adores you after all—myself included.

Murr: Me too—!

Rustica: My beloved apprentice and dear friend, I hope your days from here on will be filled with the most marvelous of memories.

Chloe: Ehehe, I’m so happy right now I don’t want the day to end.

Rustica: There’s no reason why the festivities can’t continue in your dreams as well. However, before heading off to bed, we do have one final present for you.

Rustica: Master Sage, if you please.

Akira: Got it! Happy birthday once again, Chloe.

Akira: To celebrate, please allow me to take you to the Flowermist Wonderland tomorrow.

Chloe: Wow…! Isn’t that the place Shylock inherited from a friend?

Shylock: Indeed. It’s a rather entertaining locale filled with all sorts of attractions to captivate its guests.

Chloe: I knew it! I’ve heard others talking about it before and thought it sounded amazing. I can’t wait to finally go myself!

The Flowermist Wonderland With You ~An Invitation for Chloe~ - Chapter 2

[Chloe’s Room]

The next day. With the Wonderland invitation in hand, I made my way to Chloe’s room.

Akira: Here you go Chloe. It’s the invitation to the Flowermist Wonderland.

Chloe: It has all my favorite things on it! Did you make this yourself, Master Sage?

Akira: Yep! I wanted to make it as personalized as possible.

Akira: All you have to do is sign your name here and cast your spell. Then a door to the park will open. Shall we try it?

Chloe: Alright! First, I'll write my name, then…

Chloe: <<Suispicibo Voitingoc>>

With a slow creaking sound, the doorway to the Wonderland opened before us. A sweet scent wafted out as mist began to obscure the room.

[Flowermist Wonderland - Day]

Chloe: Wow…! Those wooden horses are flying! And over there! Are those swings?

As the scenery came into view, Chloe excitedly took in everything around us. As he moved, the beret on his head wobbled, causing him to gasp with a start.

Chloe: Oh, I have a hat! Actually my entire outfit changed!

Akira: Anyone who comes here gets their clothes magically changed. Those colors are so chic; they look perfect on you!

Chloe: Ehehe, really? This is so cool. A brand new outfit just for me!

Chloe twirled around as if examining the swish of his coat. His joy was infectious, and I could feel myself smiling too.

Akira: Let’s get started then! There’s a lot to see, so I’ll lead the way!

With a spring in our steps, we made our way to a row of little wagons. Running up to one of them, Chloe smiled happily.

Chloe: This is amazing! They’re loaded with buttons and fabrics! I’ve never seen anything like this before…!

Akira: This really is like an arts and crafts paradise.

Akira: It seems like everything here has magical properties too.

Chloe: Oh, you're right! That cat embroidery is moving! Its tail is flicking back and forth like it’s about to pounce on something…

Akira: Maybe it’s trying to get that butterfly button…?

Chloe: I bet! …Oh, whoa!! The butterfly is flying away now! Ahaha!!

Chloe’s violet eyes sparkled as he perused the items lined up in the wagons.

Akira: I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I just knew I had to take you here as soon as I found this place.

Akira: Since we’re celebrating your birthday, please feel free to choose something you like as a gift.

Chloe: Wow, really!? Thank you so much! That’s incredible!

Chloe: Everything here is so unique, I hardly know what to pick.

Chloe: With all the novelties here, I could create designs I’ve never tried before!

As Chloe scanned the items on the wagons, his expression revealed a surprising amount of deliberation.

Everything he made was filled with such love and care. As I watched his face, I felt like I could see that passionate creator in him, and my chest swelled with emotion.

Akira: Take as much time as you need, alright? Aside from this, there are also wagons with hats and gloves in them.

Chloe: Really! Can we see them too?

Akira: Of course we can!

The Flowermist Wonderland With You ~An Invitation for Chloe~ - Chapter 3

[Flowermist Wonderland - Night]

As we looked around the wagons, time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

Chloe: That was so~ much fun! I can’t believe those shoes started dancing like that.

Akira: They were so lively too! …Oh, there’s the next wagon.

Chloe: Oh, this one has scarves on it! They’re so colorful and pretty.

Chloe: Ah! This is…

Chloe’s eyes settled upon a single scarf covered with pale flowers amongst the countless others in the cart.

Chloe: Hey, doesn’t this scarf remind you of this place?

Akira: It does! The deep blue fabric kind of reminds me of the stars twinkling in the night sky.

Chloe: Right? Isn’t it gorgeous? I think… this is what I want to take.

Chloe reached for the scarf. However, as his fingertips brushed against the fabric, his hand suddenly froze.

Chloe: …

Akira: Chloe? It’s your birthday, so you can take it if you want…

Chloe: …Ah, sorry! I just had a moment there.

Chloe: On second thought… Maybe I don’t need a present after all.

[Ominous music]

Akira: Huh…?

Chloe: Today has already been so amazing! The memories are all I need!

Despite his words, however, his smile seemed a little off.

Akira: If you don’t want to take anything, that’s fine, but…

Akira: …Is something wrong?

Chloe: N- Nothing at all! Really!

Chloe: …Well, maybe I am a little afraid.

Akira: Of what���?

Chloe: Yesterday, the entire manor celebrated my birthday, and today, you took me to this wonderful place…

Chloe: It’s all been going so well that I can’t help but feel like everything will fall apart at some point, like if I wish for anymore, I’ll definitely be punished for it.

Chloe’s smile trembled as he held his hands close to his heart.

As if he was shielding himself.

Chloe: …What if I suddenly wake up and find myself in the cold?

Chloe: And all of these happy memories, celebrations, and friendships were nothing more than a dream? What if it turns out I’ve actually been alone all this time…

Chloe: …Ahaha… I’m sorry. I must sound crazy to you.

Akira: …Not at all. You don’t have to apologize for anything…

I took Chloe’s hands, and held them as they shook ever so slightly.

Akira: …Are your hands warm now?

Chloe: Huh? I mean, yes, they are…

Akira: Then this is proof it isn’t a dream, right? If it was, you wouldn’t be able to feel this warmth.

Chloe: Ah…

Akira: I’ll hold your hands, Chloe. Just like this.

Akira: I’ll hold them so you can trust that yesterday, and today, and all the love you’ve ever received is real.

Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered. Rather than pulling away, he returned my grip.

Chloe: …That’s right… Thank you, Master Sage.

Using one hand to hold mine, Chloe let go with the other and reached for the wagon.

He then carefully picked up the scarf he had once hesitated to touch.

Akira: …Ah… The flower petals are falling…

Gently landing onto the scarf, light-colored flower petals began to rain from the sky.

Akira: (This is the sign that the guests are fully satisfied…)

Before long, the entire area was enveloped in mist.

♡♥♡

[Chloe’s Room]

Chloe: Ah… We’re back.

There seemed to be a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

However, upon seeing the scarf in his hand, his lips curved into a smile.

Chloe: …Hey, Master Sage. Do you mind spending a little more time with me?

Chloe: I want to create a matching outfit for this scarf, so I wanna hear your ideas!

As Chloe spread out the scarf, there wasn’t a hint of anxiety left in his bright, glittering eyes.

Akira: Of course I can. I’d be happy to help!

An Exciting Series of Events - Card Episode

[Living Room]

Akira: Your birthday sure was extravagant. I was surprised to find the entire manor decorated from top to bottom as soon as I woke up.

Chloe: Me too! Apparently, Murr did that with magic.

Chloe: The whole day was absolutely amazing from the moment I opened my eyes. The first thing that happened was Murr appearing in my room!

Chloe: He yelled, “Wake up! Wake up! You can’t waste even a second ‘cause your birthday party starts right meow!” and whisked me away.

Akira: Ahaha, that sounds exciting.

Chloe: Right!? Oh speaking of, Shylock’s event really got the crowd going too!

Akira: “Chloe’s Best Designs Rankings” right?

Akira: He listed off all of his favorite outfits, but concluded that they were all number one in the end since every outfit was so amazing.

Chloe: He did, didn’t he… Ehehe, that was so nice!

Chloe: Then, after the party ended, Rustica performed a concert for me. It was just the two of us in the courtyard at midnight.

Akira: Wow, that sounds like a wonderful gift! What kind of song did he play?

Chloe: …He said it was a song wishing for my life to be filled with happiness now and into the future.

Chloe: I was so touched by his warmth and kindness. Just hearing it made my heart feel full.

Akira: That sounds just like Rustica.

Chloe: Yep. It really was an unforgettable night.

Homescreen Voice Line

“Since it’s a special occasion, I want to have confidence in myself today and carry myself with pride. Everyone’s thinking of me after all, and I can feel their care in every word and gift I receive… Everything just makes me so happy! Thank you so much for the wonderful birthday.”

[666writingcafe]

A Question

A Text Conversation Between Solomon and MC That Takes Place As MC Is Recovering At Purgatory Hall

MC: We're going to have to leave soon, aren't we?

Solomon: Why do you ask?

MC: Well, how much time has passed in the human world since our departure?

Solomon: By my calculations, we're approaching the end of day one.

MC: You weren't kidding when you said that time moves the slowest in the human world.

Solomon: You will have time to fully recover and say your goodbyes. You don't need to worry about that. But you are right; sooner rather than later, we will have to make preparations to go home.

MC: Where will you go?

Solomon: I have a house, MC.

MC: But is it a home?

Solomon: Thirteen told you, didn't she?

MC: Yes. I know about your immortality.

Solomon: It was an accident that's turned into a curse. Everyone that I've grown up with has long passed. It's hard to form lasting connections with other humans because I know that I'll outlive them all.

MC: I am truly sorry, Solomon. You must feel completely alone. Isolated, even.

MC: That brings me to my request.

Solomon: Oh?

MC: If you are willing, I would like you to continue tutoring me when we get back to the human world. There's so much that I still don't know, and you have been an excellent teacher thus far.

Solomon: Thank you. You probably surpass me in terms of raw magical power now.

MC: But I lack the skills necessary to fully control it.

Solomon: You'll be able to master those skills soon enough. You can take my word on that.

MC: Solomon.

MC: I want to be YOUR apprentice. Not anyone else's.

MC: Please?

Solomon: I would be honored, MC. Truly. Something tells me it won't be long before the student surpasses the teacher, though...

MC: I don't care about that.

MC: I want to be able to spend more time with you. Is that so wrong?

Solomon: No, MC. It's not. I'm just not used to anyone being so sweet.

MC: *blushing emoji*

Solomon: Our first lesson begins now.

Solomon: You have pacts with seven rather needy demons. They won't let you go easily. While you are far from ready to learn teleportation magic in order to travel between realms at will, I do believe you are skilled enough to summon a demon across worlds.

MC: That way, we can see each other whenever we want.

Solomon: Exactly. It's relatively easy to do as well.

Solomon: Normally a ceremony is performed in the human world to summon a demon. Then the human and demon proceed to forge their pact. Sometimes, the pair makes it so that the human will be able to freely summon the demon in the future.

MC: How does that happen?

Solomon: The demon chooses something that is dear to them at the time and gives it to the human. This gift serves as a permit of sorts, one that allows the demon to be summoned across worlds at any time.

MC: So, that's my first step: obtaining gifts from the brothers.

Solomon: You're a quick learner.

Solomon: But focus on resting first.

[danjaley]

In the meantime, here's the Season 4 quote-trailer!

Alasdair: Please don’t die on me! I don’t want to have to explain this to your parents!

Alice: Anyway, you don’t have a grandfather and never had any!

André: … but as it is, I doubt I will have a business with apprentices by the time she’s grown up.

Béatrice: Does this mean we prayed for your soul in vane!?

Charles: You hired a nun!?

Fiona: Even if you left a whole boys’ school behind you, they could never replace you to me. You should know that.

Jonathan: I’m only a protestant architect, so don’t expect any absolute truths about Right and Wrong from me.

Also Jonathan: You must stop looking for reasons why you don't deserve your own children!

Lucie: Please don’t cry! You’re our teacher!

Matthew: He shaid he’d have a nervoush breakdown onshe we reach Englan’.

Nicolas: … walk steadily.

Robert: Where is he though?

Rosalie: Poor Ysobel was too busy to write much, and this hasn’t been the case since Matt was born.

Roseanne: He's the love of my life.

Sarah: It is as I have always feared. You spoilt the two of us.

Sr. Thérèse: If things get very bad, Lucie, even teachers may cry.

Yolanda: Gracias, inglés loco! [Thank you, crazy Englishman!]

Ysobel: I hope he’s not lying in some ditch again.

[written left-handed:] DEAR UNCLE DUE TO SAIL FOR SCOTLAND ON 14TH. WILL CALL AT YOURS. PLEASE LET ME STAY.

[inposterumcumgaudio]

tell me about Reg Cutty

People are missing so much of the story with him.

And I kinda get it because the way the dialogue is in "The Slaughterer's Apprentice" implies a narrower story than there is, but the clues are there to be seen.

As is, people interpret Reg's story thus: when the Germans invaded, he started dating Marta, a German woman, and had a son with her. Additionally, he was especially cooperative with the Germans, which the locals found distasteful. When the Germans left, Marta and their son left with them, but Reg stayed behind out of cowardice. Afterward, he attempted to join the Home Army, but due to his past collaborationist behavior, they are unwilling to accept him.

But there's pieces that don't fit in there story, loose elements that look like editing errors or dead-end mysteries... unless you're looking at the whole picture.

We Happy Few, in addition to its overwhelming amount of text and dialogue, also relies very heavily on environmental storytelling. You miss a lot if you're not looking.

Cutty & Son

Cutty Family Butcher

Cutty's & Sons founded 1912

Reg is older than Arthur, old enough to be dating and having children in the 40's. 1912 is a little long for two generations, but a little short for three. So I think it's a fair assumption that Reg's father started this butcher shop and if it's Cutty's and Sons then Reg must also have a brother.

A brother who is - very pointedly - no longer part of the business.

But before we get to him, let's talk about Cutty Sr.

In the note "Thank you for your contribution", the recipient is actually someone named Bill, not Reg.

Dear Mr. Cutty:

Thank you for your contribution to the Next War Effort. The troops greatly appreciated your sausages. We all think your patriotic efforts are smashing.

Do keep up the good work, and we will seriously consider your application to join the Home Army.

Yours very truly, Lt. John Fortescue

(written longhand) You don't need to buttonhole me every time I come into the shop, Bill. It's not a matter of what you did or didn't do during the "late, great unpleasantness." We all know that citizens were under a lot of pressure to cooperate with the G, and even if, at times, you seemed a little extra enthuseastic, we take at face value your protestations that that is just your manner. However, you are on the old side for a soldier, old chap. It will take a little while -- and perhaps a few more sausages -- before the boys are quite ready to "put you through your paces" as you put it. ''

I think this dialogue during the quest misdirects the player to conclude that it's an editing error.

Arthur: I found your letter.

Reg: You were a child then. You wouldn't understand.

Arthur: Oh, yes, it was a happy, carefree time for us kids.

Reg: I loved her. We were just two young people caught up in something bigger than ourselves.

Arthur: That doesn't sound like what the Home Army's onto you about.

Reg: You don't understand. I thought they would stay forever. I had to sell meat. We had to get on.

That Reg takes individual responsibility for gettin' cozy with the Germans makes sense if his father isn't here to own up too. Reg is the only one in the situation who's standing accused anymore. But the letter was sent to Bill, and I think that means it isn't Reg who was trying to join the Home Army, but his father.

And why should he want to do that after the fact, well after the war was over and the Germans had gone home?

To redeem the family name, which was tarnished by Bill's collaboration (and Reg's fraternization) with the Germans.

Ollie has lines when sitting in Uncle Jack's chair on the TV studio set where he specifically calls Reg out for being a collaborator:

"Did you know that you can get extra rations if you betray your country? That’s right, all the schnitzel you can possibly eat. Just ask Reg Cutty for the Deutschland Über Alles special."

Ollie remembers because he's never been a Joy user. That this little piece of trivia escaped his dose of Oblivion is not surprising either since he has a lot of opinions about people who cooperated with the Germans.

The rest of Wellington Wells has mostly forgotten about the Cutty family taste for schnitzel by '64, but Lt. Fortescue and the Home Army certainly hadn't forgotten about it when that letter was written.

Reg writes in his letter to Marta that he cannot send that "I wish I had not been a coward, and I had joined you on the last train. It seems I am one coward after another." And maybe it was cowardice, but I rather think he stayed out of a sense of obligation as well.

There seems to be a bit tension around the "& Sons" part of the Cutty legacy, you see.

Reg must have a brother, but he is not working at the butchershop. Reg would not need Edmund to help him if his brother was working there. And that Reg has crossed out & Sons on the poster at the lunch counter, but left the "& Son" on the lettering under the awning...

You can see here that the sign used to say Cutty & Sons, plural, but the S on the end has been scrubbed off. The lettering with the S would have been perfectly centered over the window otherwise. It's a little short on the right side without it.

I think Reg didn't remove the "& Son" entirely because to him, the Cutty in red isn't him, it's his father. In his absence, without a Cutty Jr. to run the shop, his father's legacy disappears.

Reg makes a lot of being someone who can "look at the blood, and the flesh, and the bone." He has all these metaphors about how people like their meat wrapped up nicely in brown paper so they don't have to think about how it got there. He delineates himself from others this way. I will bet you all the money that his brother was squeamish and that's why he's not working at the family shop and preserving their father's memory.

But more than that, I also think Reg's brother left the fold back before everyone forgot who the Cuttys were.

There's a corpse in Reg's basement. Spawns in every time, but not with a random name like most corpses. This one is always named Michael Cutting. There's also a programmer on the staff with that name and that's probably not an accident, but it is left as one of those apparent WHF go-nowhere "mysteries".

But, taking all of the above into account, maybe Michael Cutting is Reg's brother who was not only too squeamish to work in the family business, but also cut ties and changed his last name just enough to distance himself from his collaborationist father and brother so he could get along with the rest of the town.

There's no way to know how long Michael's been in dead in Reg's basement. It's entirely possible that Reg killed him ages ago. But I think it's a better story if Michael only braved returning to the butcher shop because Edmund's been saying strange things about Reg's new machines at the pub and Reg had to kill him once he realized Michael wasn't impressed but horrified, even if his machines keep all the gross stuff inside the package. It would tie up nicely with this piece of dialogue:

Arthur: Why don't you tell the Executive Committee? I'm sure they'd give you a medal.

Reg: That's just it! I don't think they would.

[deniigi]

this is me asking about qui-gon

thank you, dear. You're a real one.

For the last several weeks, I have been running into people shitting on Qui-Gon in every tag on every platform I go on. And I am emotionally bored and intellectually fascinated with this take.

It's like there is this dichotomy in the Obi-Wan side of Star Wars fandom (we are disregarding the anti-Jedi people rn because I respect zero of them and zero of their takes).

Qui-Gon was the worst and cannot be redeemed. He is nothing but an abuser and never did he ever like, let along love, Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon was the softest, most gentle master ever. He only ever loved Obi-Wan and tenderly taught him how to be a jedi while also being his adoring jedi-father.

Naturally, as someone who has read a few of the Jedi Apprentice stories, begrudgingly watched The Phantom Menace, and recently seen the Kenobi show, I am just baffled by both of these takes.

To start, TPM and the Kenobi show are all about Obi-Wan grieving his master, and then trying to reconnect with his master, so that is clear and obvious so we will set that to the side.

JA Obi-Wan, however, is honestly hysterical in how annoying, disobedient, and bratty he is.

And like, maybe I don't agree that Qui-Gon should have left him in a Civil War, but in these books I read Qui-Gon as an adult who has been through some serious shit (lost a child, lost a master, lost a partner) and who has been pressured into taking care of an especially energetic, overenthusiastic dependent with pre-existing self-worth issues before he himself is ready to. He is also someone who's teaching style involves allowing a child to see the consequences of their actions and stepping in only when the child is truly out of their depth, which is also a form of compassionate teaching that respects a young person's agency, believe it or not--so his methods and general being is not inherently good or inherently bad.

But forgive me, I am applying nuance to a character. I must digress.

I think what baffles and fascinates me about fandom tendencies towards Qui-Gon is

1) They are almost entirely fandom-made, and rather than do their own research and thinking, folks are by and large content to just do what everyone else is doing.

2) Even when people do go back and read the source material for Legends, they come at it with a fandom bias which they then do not recognize/point out in their analyses, which is hilarious and so faux-intellectual I want to ask them if they feel very very smart.

3) Qui-Gon exists in fandom almost entirely to further Obi-Wan whump narratives.

To be clear, I'm okay with that last point because Obi-Wan whump is like, a whole narrative in Star Wars itself (although I personally, can only endure so much Obi-whump as I prefer characters with agency in their stories), but it does make me wonder if people ever think about Qui-Gon as a character on his own.

The answer is no. Don't worry, I'm not that naive.

Anyways, I just wish there was some variety in the tags and that one could find material on Qui-Gon without having to navigate the 'Qui-Gon Jinn's A+ Parenting' 'Qui-Gon is a good jedi but not a good man' 'Qui-Gon is a good master' tags.

Like it should be ludicrous and hilarious to people that this minor character is so polarized in fandom that you have to tag things like that such that one trench of people doesn't come in and attack you in your comments section.

It's wild!!

I truly hope people can look at what they're doing and go 'oh, this is actually absurd' because just admitting that might help us in the longer term to write interesting stories.

Thank you for letting me rant ❤

[virahaus]

Hi, your future projects sound really interesting. Could you please tell us more about your Sith AU and your tattoo AU? 👀

Hello!!

Thank you for your ask, I'm glad you found my project exciting!

So,,, to be perfectly honest with you, I have quite a collection of Sith AUs lmao. I'd rather not talk too much about the one I have almost finished cause it will go up in a matter of weeks but I do have other siths AUs.

Firstly we have an Anakin gets rejected by the order and runs away instead of going back to Tatooine AU. He gets a mechanic job on the lower levels of Coruscant and lives in a tiny apartment where he always has to triple lock the door. To get more credits, since he was 17 he started singing in a shady bar and eventually gets recruited as a backup singer for the Coruscant Opera. Meanwhile Obi-Wan, who was in the Halls of Healing when Anakin was rejected, gradually falls to the dark side with no Padawan and no master and accepts Dooku's offer much earlier and becomes his apprentice. He never stopped looking for Anakin, until he finds a little bird singing in one of the bars he frequents on Coruscant.

... and that how he finds Anakin again. 👀 There will be quite some identity issues in the fic and I look forward to write it.

And I also have a fem!Anakin raised-as-Sith AU and it's very much porn with a shade of plot lol My dear Kana actually drew some sketches about it which you can find here.

The tattoo fic, my beloved. I don't want to spoil too much, but the synopsis is:

After a night out with his troops, Anakin wakes up with an hungover and a very incriminating tattoo. He engages in many shenanigans to make sure Obi-Wan will never see it, draggin poor Captain Rex into it, and causing Obi-Wan to become very quickly jealous of Anakin and Rex's familiarity (not that Anakin notices ofc). In the end, after a particularly heated sparring session between them, a lifted shirt gets Obi-Wan a glimpse of it, and let's just say he's very much into it 🤭

... and then they fuck lmao

I hope I satisfied your curiosity but as always my ask is open lol

If you all have other questions for my other projects hit me up!

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 33

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

Saff sat on her own, staring at the campfire. Across from her Astarion and Shadowheart spoke quietly to each other as they translated Malitas’s research. She knew she really should be helping them, but she couldn’t get her mind to focus right now. Questions and anxiety filled her head - she worried for Gale and wondered if she should go find him, she questioned why Malitas had been so cruel when she’d never known him to be like that, and she still wondered why she’d had such a strong reaction to him earlier when he’d looked at her. 

She was snapped out of her thoughts as she saw movement to her side and looked over to see Tara approaching her. She looked as worried as Saff was as she sat down next to her. 

“Are you alright, dear?” she asked softly as she looked up at her. 

“I’m… worried about him,” Saff replied quietly, looking back into the fire. 

“As am I,” Tara empathised. “I wanted to thank you for standing up for him. I know it wasn’t easy for you, and I also know that had any of the rest of us done so, Malitas would simply have ignored us. It took you standing up to him to turn the tides, and I know your words will mean a lot to Gale.” 

Saff remained quiet for a long moment, her mind still too clouded by everything to think of a proper response. 

“Do you think he was right?” she asked eventually, her voice quiet against the crackle of the fire. “About everything Mystra did…” 

Tara looked down slightly, letting out a deep, pained sigh. 

“As much as I hate to agree with such a vile man… yes, I fear he’s right. I didn’t know about Mystra’s involvement in Gale’s life until he started his relationship with her three years ago. That was when he told me she’d been visiting him since he was a child. I’d noticed over the years at times he was keeping something from me, but I never in a hundred years would have thought he was being visited by a goddess everyone thought was dead. He was so happy, so proud… he said it was what his whole life had been leading up to. But I could see the change in him. He became gradually more recluse, dedicating more and more of his time to her and whatever tasks she put him to. I tried to convince him to spend more time with others, reconnect with old friends and make new ones, but nothing I could say would tear him away from her. He insisted he was fine and happy, and I think he even believed that. But a man like Gale, who loves so deeply and so purely, deserves someone who can love him in the same way. Something Mystra could never do.” 

Saff was quiet as she thought back to what Gale had said when she’d first found out about the orb and Mystra. How Mystra had been everything to him and he’d dedicated all he had to her, how he’d missed the more mortal aspects of relationships, how he’d known deep down she didn’t love him the way he loved her… seems Tara had noticed it too, and it all rang painfully true to Malitas’s words. 

Malitas… normally she would defend him against someone who would call him a vile man. Right now, though, all she could do was agree. How could he throw Gale’s suffering in his face like that? It made her sick. 

The rest of Tara’s words went through her head, playing on her mind. 

“How can Mystra do that…” she whispered. “Gods are supposed to protect their followers. How can she treat him like that?” 

Tara looked into the fire for a moment, the gentle crackle the only sound in the air between them as she contemplated her answer. 

“Gods, for all their power, are a lot more human than they’d like any of us to believe. They still have their flaws and their vices… many of which are only amplified by their power. They do what they feel is necessary to protect their domain, and oftentimes, a few mortal lives lost in the process is a small price to pay for them. Their clerics will preach their words and sing their praises, but the gods will only protect their followers as long as they need to… and will let them suffer if it benefits them.” 

Another silence fell over them. Saff felt so disillusioned with everything. She’d never been a devout follower, but she worshipped Mystra as much as any wizard did, and had believed her to be a good goddess. To find out that she does this to her Chosen… how could she continue to follow her now? How could she call herself a wizard knowing this is what Mystra does? But at the same time, what choice did she have? Magic was the only way she had to defend herself… 

Perhaps it was all Gale had, too. He’d spoken about how much he loved it, how he’d dedicated his life to its study. And Mystra had used that to her advantage. Exploited him because of his abilities, then left him when he was of no more use to her.

The more she thought about it, the more she saw the truth of it all. Her uncertainty was slowly replaced by anger at the injustice, at the goddess who’d hurt Gale so deeply.

She looked over to the forest in the direction he’d disappeared off to. He’d been gone a long while now… too long…

“Someone who loves him deeply and purely…” she murmured to herself, quiet enough that Tara couldn’t hear. “Hm?” she asked, but Saff was already standing up. “Where are you going?” she asked as Saff began to walk off. 

“I’m going to find him.” 

The forest was quiet as she wandered through the trees, but it wasn’t til she emerged out to the mountain cliffs did she finally see him. He was sat on the edge, his feet dangling down, leaning forward on his knees as he looked up at the stars. Carefully she approached, the sounds of her footsteps breaking the tranquil silence. He looked up at her as she stood next to him, and for a moment she thought he looked more composed than she expected, til she saw beads of sweat on his forehead, heard the slightly ragged way he breathed - the orb had been flaring, reacting to the emotional turmoil he was going through. 

He looked forward again, out at the stars, as she sat down next to him, her legs dangling next to his. There was a moment of quiet between them, til he eventually spoke. 

“It is a strange thing… to have your head know something to be true, but have your heart so vehemently refuse to believe it.” 

He sighed deeply and looked downwards, shaking his head slightly. 

“Even as I say I know it to be true, I find myself rejecting my own words… it’s like my mind is fighting a battle with itself, and I do not know which side to take.” 

She saw him wince, and knew it wasn’t from physical pain. She realised there was something deeply familiar about how he was feeling. It was like looking into a mirror that reflected the same pain and confusion she’d felt herself not so long ago. 

“I felt the same… when I realised how things really were with Aryn,” she said quietly, looking out over the mountains. “You know logically what they’re doing is wrong, but you think, it can’t possibly be like that, cause they love you. They’d never actually hurt you, it’s all just… a misunderstanding. They don’t realise what they’re actually doing, or they wouldn’t do it. So you keep making excuses for them, you refuse to believe it… no matter how much you know it’s true.” 

He looked at her in surprise. Part of him started to believe she was right… but part of him also rejected the comparison. 

“What Aryn did to you-”

“Was not so different to what Mystra did to you,” she interrupted, speaking firmly as she looked at him. “Maybe she didn’t hit you or refuse to let you leave the house, but she still controlled you. When we spoke about this, you said the people who perpetuate these atrocities are masters of manipulation. You spoke about how he cut me off from my friends, controlled everything I did, and every time he hurt me he then showered me with all the love he’d made sure I couldn’t get from anywhere else so he’d be my only source of happiness. You said it was a cruel cycle that’s hard to break free from. Gale…” 

She raised her hand and gently touched his cheek, seeing the emotion in his eyes as he looked at her.

“Don’t you see? She cut you off from your friends - made sure you had so much work, so many responsibilities, that you had no more time to see them. She controlled everything you did - you said she guided you and mentored you, both in magic and in everything else. And she’d been doing that your whole life! I was only with Aryn a few months and look how much control he had over me. Mystra literally raised you from childhood to believe everything she wanted you to. And that cruel cycle you said Aryn put me in? You spoke about how your relationship with Mystra became addictive - she’d show you the most incredible things, then dump you back on Toril and leave you waiting for her. Mystra took everything you loved then and made sure you became addicted to being with her. And she’s a goddess! With Aryn, maybe I could believe he didn’t know any better. But she does. She knew exactly what she was doing… she had it planned right from the beginning.”

Gale could find no words in response as he stared at her in shock, and in that moment she could see the dawning realisation in his eyes. 

He looked away and gritted his teeth as the orb flared, reacting to his sorrow… and, she realised as she saw his fists clench, his anger. 

“How could I not see it…” he growled, fury simmering in his voice. 

“Don’t say that,” she said quickly, taking his hand in hers to try to calm him down before he hurt himself any more. “Don’t start blaming yourself.” 

His shoulders slumped and she could see his anger towards himself start to dissipate at her words… though it was soon replaced with anger towards Mystra. 

“I gave her everything… dedicated my life to her. Did everything she asked of me. But to her I was nothing more than a plaything, to be used and discarded!”

Saff could hear the fury in his voice as he threw a hand out in front of him to illustrate his point. 

“Everything she said… every kind word, every declaration of love… all lies. And I believed every one…” 

The anger turned to pain as she saw tears start to well in his eyes and heard his voice catch in his throat. She went to put her arm round him, wanting to hold him as he’d held her while she cried into his arms, but before she could he gasped as the orb flared once more. He choked in pain, hunching over, his usually swept-back hair now falling over his face. The tears fell from his eyes as he clutched at his chest, letting out pained whimpers. She leant close and put her hand on his shoulder, knowing that doing anything more might make it worse, and felt how he was shaking. 

She’d never seen him like this before, so vulnerable, so dishevelled, so desperate. The veins leading to his eyes were so prominent now, the purple glow making his skin look almost deathly pale. For a moment she saw him open his eyes, coughing weakly. He looked so… tired. It broke her heart. 

He sat up, taking deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut. Gradually the streaks of light running up his neck began to fade, but she saw how his lip trembled, heard how ragged his breaths were as he tried to keep his composure. She realised he couldn’t even cry with the orb inside him. All this pain, and he couldn’t let it out. He had to bury it all, force himself not to feel. Crying in his arms had been so cathartic for her, but he couldn’t even do that. How could one face what had happened to them, come to terms with it, when they had to bury all their feelings about it?

She wanted to stay strong for him, but it was so hard to stop the tears that welled in her own eyes now at seeing him like this. Gently she lifted her hand to his face and stroked some of the hair away behind his ear, her thumb trailing his cheek. He opened his eyes and looked at her through the strands of hair that fell over his face, looking almost surprised for a moment by her touch. He leant into her hand, pressing his face to her palm, closing his eyes as he lifted his hand and placed it over hers. As his eyes closed, even though he said nothing, she could sense how he was feeling, the emotions written over the creases of pain on his face. He yearned for connection, for love… real love, for comfort and understanding, tenderness and warmth, for a bond he never got from Mystra. 

She leant in and rested her forehead against his, lifting her free hand to cup his other cheek. 

“Gale…” she whispered, her voice shaking from emotion. 

“I can’t change what Mystra did to you… but I want you to know… no matter what you’re going through, no matter how much it hurts… I will always be here for you. I will always stand by you. I will fight every battle with you and bear your pain with you. Oh, Gale…” Tears finally ran down her cheeks as she opened her eyes. As Gale did the same, she saw a thousand emotions behind the deep, glistening brown of his eyes, but where before she saw only pain and despair, there was now hope, even happiness. A smile came to her lips as the words she’d been wanting to say for so long, the words that had been threatening at the tip of her tongue and running through her mind at their every touch, every look, every moment spent together, finally fell from her lips. “I love you…”

Both their hearts raced at the sound of those words. Gale felt almost light-headed at the wave of emotions that washed over him, from how utterly distraught he’d been before to the overwhelming warmth and love he felt from her words, her touch, her presence. It was like his heart had been ripped apart then tenderly put back together again by the hands that held him so lovingly. He was so tired, so weak, all he wanted to was to melt into her, and in that moment he could no longer resist. He didn’t care about the orb that burnt inside him, he couldn’t fight his feelings anymore. He finally gave in and wrapped his arms round her, pulling her in… 

At long last, his lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss. 

She wrapped her arms round his neck, reaching up to pull him in, her fingers lacing into his hair. Bodies pressed together, hearts beating as one, every ounce of love and longing that had been pent up inside them was poured into the kiss. They held each other tight, feeling each other’s yearning, each other’s love, finally feeling complete in each other’s arms. 

For a brief, glorious moment, everything in the world was perfect.

Then, very suddenly, it wasn’t. 

Gale tore himself away, coughing and gasping as pain ripped through his body. Agony shot through his veins like a wildfire, setting his skin alight. His lungs felt like they were being crushed til he could hardly breathe, and when he looked at Saff and saw her eyes wide with terror, he felt another wave of pain wash over him. He had to calm himself, bury his emotions again, before it was too late… and being next to her, seeing her fear, feeling his heart stir from both love and guilt, was only making it worse. 

He scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but he managed barely a few steps before his legs gave way to the pain and he fell to his knees, collapsing forward on all fours. 

“Gale!” Saff cried behind him, running to be with him, but when he looked up at her she skidded to a stop and stared with wide eyes at what she saw. The marking shone fiercely, the angry, flaring light reaching up his neck til even his eyes were glowing purple. Luminescent cracks began to spread from his chest across his skin, like deep fissures in the very fabric of his being. 

He cried out in pain, shaking as he felt the orb’s power tearing through him. Desperately he tried to fight it, a ferocious internal battle against his own emotions… but the more he failed to quell them, the more intense his fear burned, as he felt the orb’s power spilling over the edge. He tried to claw it back, desperate and terrified, feeling it overwhelming him and swallowing him…

Saff stumbled back as the orb’s light became almost blinding, lifting her hand to cover her eyes. She could feel the crackle of Weave in the air, hot against her skin. Her mind raced, but she had no idea what to do. Any attempt to comfort him would make it worse…

As she squinted through her fingers she saw bright, angry strands of purple light swirling in the air around him. Hunched over, he clutched his head and screamed in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks. All around them, particles of bright light began appearing in the air, slowly moving towards him. 

His eyes suddenly snapped open and he saw the chilling dance of magic around him, closing in on him, and as his eyes caught hers, he knew with a resigned dread what he had to do. With the last of his strength he sat up and lifted his arms wide, his hands glowing blue as he began to recite the incantation. “Fugamus…”

He gasped as the already unbearable pain flared at his use of magic, but forced himself through. His voice was hoarse, barely able to get the words out. 

“...inferni…”

Saff’s eyes widened. She knew that incantation… with a horrified gasp, she realised what he was doing. She barely even heard herself cry out ‘no’ as she ran towards him, arms outreached. There was nothing she could do to stop this from happening… but she couldn’t let him die alone. 

The magic around him grew brighter, the particles now flying inwards towards his chest, and for just a moment, he caught her eye, and unspoken sorrow on his face. 

I am so sorry, my love. 

“Blandimenta!”

There was a blinding flash. As Saff fell to her knees to throw her arms round him, she found only air. She opened her eyes and looked up to see falling droplets of light that fizzled as they hit the ground around her. 

Her heart stopped. She looked at her empty hands that shook in front of her, feeling the tingle of magic in the air. 

“No…” she whispered, her voice shaking. 

The terrible realisation that washed over her gripped at her heart and threatened to tear it from her chest. This couldn’t be happening… it couldn’t be…

“No…” 

Tears fell from her eyes. He was gone… 

And it was her fault. She’d vowed to protect him, to be there for him, to help him through it all, but all she’d done was make it worse. She knew how the orb worked, she knew making him more emotional would hurt him. Yet she'd still said it… why? Why had she done that? How could she have let this happen??

“Gale…”

A terrible, crippling emptiness filled her. Guilt ravaged her and she felt as if she was drowning, suffocating in the loneliness of the silence around her…

She clutched her head as tears streamed down her cheeks, and her scream echoed through the mountains. 

[earth4angels]

1: thank you for the praise for the idea! It’s literally been in my mind since season one and I’ve had time to think it through. But I also can’t take credit for it completely- it’s a culmination of all the fics that I’ve read. Namely “I’ve dug two graves for us my dear” (Aemond/Royce oc) and “Wolves amongst dragons (Aemond/Sansa Stark time travel). I highly recommend both and they can be found on AO3.

From the former I took the idea of a capable oc, one that cares for her people and has done the work to build bonds. From the latter I took the idea of Jacaerys squiring. Now, you might be asking, how does that fit in with everything? Well in the fic, Jace is sent to squire for cregan after showing that he cares more for petty arguments than unity. He hasn’t started growing up.

What if the dance, for whatever reason, is put off for a few years? What if Rhaenyra sends her son to observe his estranged cousin under the guise of something like a wardship? This can all be adapted to fit any love interests, but Jace is young and he’s the one who’s got the most to learn about responsibility. Even Aegon understands what it means to rule and he doesn’t want it. He knows that it’s a big thing and he knows he’s not up to scratch- at least not the way he is now. This idea not only gives Rhaenyra back some of her plotting and scheming that’s lost in the show, but also allows for growth of the younger generation. Through the oc he’d learn responsibility- I feel like she’d start by having him muck out the stables, if you want to learn your people you gotta start from the bottom and work your way up. It would teach him humility but it would force him to make bonds with creatures and people other than the dragons.

At the end of every day, she’d ask him one question: what is the value of a Prince up against the value of a stable boy? And he’d fuck up the answer every time until he sees how she interacts with the other stable keepers. When he answers correctly, he gets moved up to blacksmith apprentice or buss boy in the kitchens. This idea allows for upward mobility. (As well as sweaty shirtless Jace who’s getting stronger (no pun intended) and more hard working)

Listen if I had half a brain for dialogue this fic would be written but I don’t so I need some help in that regard.

oh you definitely have a strong plot built already! it’s amazing? it’s unique and different! there could be many other fics with similar takes but yours is very fresh? jace being a squire is cool???

it allows him to grow, to build a stronger character to be a prince of honor not just for himself but for his people, it’ll allow him to be a much stronger person! the idea of oc kinda guiding jace to see beyond and into his people is so nice? jace in general is soft, and very passionate to learn so i know this he can take it into a challenge until he dominates it.. oh you definitely have such a good plot, there’s a lot of dialogue that could be incorporated, oc from what im seeing a brave, strong headed person so her way of speaking is very.. how can i say.. professional? empathetic? compared to jace who is just learning these things & hasn’t seen the things oc has seen so a lot of things can be added.. i would love to see more! but if you’d like help to build dialogue pls do let me know!

[garricks4thwingqueen]

A Viscount and the Dressmaker's Apprentice Part 2

Trigger Warnings: Nothing major that I can think of.

Word Count: 1682

      Part 2 

     You unfolded the paper with a shaky hand as you read Lady Bridgertons letter, no not letter you thought to yourself. “It’s an invitation.”  Your breath shaky as a million thoughts raced through your mind. You were losing him. Fully and finally losing him as your hand instinctively clasped the pendant in your fingers. The only thing you’d ever have tangible left of Anthony Bridgerton.  You had known it was bound to happen but for Violet to have the nerve to send you an invitation to his engagement ball? That was beyond nerve. You know she had never cared for you but this sat heavily with you. 

      “For what?” Amelia asked excitedly? It took everything in you to keep your composure as you answered her; “For his engagement ball.” You managed to stammer through a cracked voice. “Engagement ball?” She asked. You nod your head; “Are you going?” “I don’t know.” You said honestly and shaken up. “I’ll be back.” You said to your sister quietly. “Where are you going? “ “I’m going to see Catherine. I need to think this out loud and with travel, I need to decide now and leave tomorrow. Catherine was your next door neighbor you had met on your first day in Ireland. Catherine was a sweet old Irish lady who welcomed you and your sister into the town with an open heart and wide arms. She had become supportively fond of you after she learned of your heartache. You already had tears down your face as you knocked on her solid wood door. “My dear.” She said softly, bracing her hands on your arms. “Come in, come in. I’ll go get some tea and you're in luck. I was about to bring over some fresh bread pudding.”  

   Catherine had entered the room again with said promised goods in hand. Although you weren’t sure you could stomach anything at the thought of Anthony about to marry a  Kate Sharma.”My dear, what has you in a fuss?” She said sitting next to you and picking up the piece of paper. “Oh sweetie.” She said softly, taking you in an embrace. “Do I go?” you sniffled. “I know this is hard and I know how much you two had cared for each other and it's clear you still do.” “He was my everything. He is my everything.” You said in staggered breaths. “Maybe a reunion would do you both well. You never know what could happen.” You sniffled, tears full stream; “I am losing him forever, that’s what’s happening.” You knew it was a low probability but you had hoped at some point during this time you’ve been in Ireland that Violet would put this whole thing behind her. “Go.” Catherine said softly.  “You're right. It would at least be nice to see Daphne and Eloise again.” The two Bridgerton family members you had grown the closest too during your time dating their brother. “Your sister can stay here with me. We will be fine for a week. Don’t worry about us my dear.” “Thank you Catherine. Maybe this won't be so bad. I can at least confirm if he is happy with my own eyes.” Catherine nodded in agreement; “Now get your sister and let’s have some dinner. I also made a fresh Shepherd's Pie; that a old lady isn’t going to eat herself.” 

      Upon arriving in London you had made contact with the Featherington’s. There was no way you were going to stay in the Bridgerton house and have a sane mind while doing so. “Thank you again. Mrs. Featherington.” “Of course dear.” “Y/N!” Penelope had said excitedly upon noticing your arrival. “What are you doing here?” She asked after giving you a much welcomed hug. “Violet sent me an invitation for tonight's festivities.” You said almost teary eyed. “You accepted?” Penelope asked curiously. “It wasn’t an easy choice. Hell I’m sure he doesn’t even know she sent me an invitation. And honestly Pen, I need to see for myself if this Kate makes him happy.”  “He's been miserable according to Eloise. Let’s get you ready for tonight.” Penelope said excitedly. “There, that soft lavender and lace looks absolutely stunning on you.” “Thanks, Penelope.” You managed to sniffle. “Are you ready?” “No, but I’m not sure I can ever be fully ready for something like this.” 

          You stood in the back of the crowded ballroom. “Y/N?” Benedict asked. “Sssh.” You chidded him as he gave you a hug. “Missed you too, you look absolutely stunning. Light lavender always suited you well. What are you doing here?” You embraced Benedict;s hug “Your mother sent me an invitation.” “Did she now? That was rather bold of her.” You nod, “I’m trying to avoid everyone, it seems I’ve failed.” You smirked and then added “I just needed to see if he was truly happy for myself and then I had planned on sneaking out before he saw me.” Benedict shook his head. “Is that really what you want to happen? And honestly he's been insufferable ever since my mother separated you two and this whole situation has made him even worse. He loves you, I’m not sure his ever stopped and judging by you traveling all this way here, you still do too.” Your hand instinctively traveled to your pendant on your neck again. “I never stopped.” Your breath hitched as the music stopped and the couple of the evening was announced to make their grand entrance. 

      Benedict had wrapped his arm around your waist for silent support. The doors to the top of the grand staircase  had barely opened when you managed to stammer out an “I can’t.” And raced from Benedict’s side. Seeing Anthony in his Bridgerton blue with another woman on his arm made your heart stop no matter how gorgeous she looked in the peach colored gown. In your rush of emotions you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings and managed to bump into another Bridgerton. “Eloise, I’m so sorry.” You sniffled. “Y/N, don’t worry about it, let's get you some fresh air.” You nod and thank the younger Bridgerton. “How long are you staying?” “I was just leaving actually.” Eloise shook her head; “You can’t tell me you have come all this way and leave now. Not even when you barely had the chance to talk to Anth.” “Eloise, I can’t.” You stammered trying to maintain your composure. “I just had to see if he was happy with her and I couldn’t even watch them walk down the staircase.”

     Eloise let out an exasperated sigh next to you. “Stay right here, I'll be right back.” “Eloise, where are you?” “Just stay right there.”

                                         

  Anthony’s POV

   “Anthony!” Eloise said panting coming up next to me. “Eloise, what has your bloomers in a bunch?” I asked as Kate shot her a glare. “I need to talk to you privately brother; in the gardens would do best.” I gave my younger sister a questioning gaze; “Alright. Alright calm down. Kate I shall  return.” I said and kissed her hand. I followed Eloise out into the gardens and I swear my heart stopped beating a thousand times over again. There you sat on a bench several feet away from me; when I’d never thought I’d see you again. “Y/N/N.” I said softly, walking towards you as your head turned in my direction. I noticed Eloise had vanished back into the chaos of the manor behind me. I could see the tears start to fall down your cheeks as I approached you; “Y/N.” I said so softly it came out barely above a whisper.. I didn't sit down next to you on the bench, instead I kneeled directly in front of you and took your hands in mine; not caring that the ground was still partially wet from the rain early this evening. 

      “Hey look at me.” I said softly and tilted your chin back up and whipped some of your tears stroking your cheek lightly. “How did you?” I asked quietly. “Your mother.” You had said through a shaky breath as I pushed a strand of your hair that had fallen out of place back behind your ear. “And you accepted it knowing what you knew?” It took a moment for you to respond as your gaze found my eyes. “I accepted it knowing that I had to know for myself if she truly made you happy, If you truly loved her.” You sniffled through an even raspier breath. I sighed, laying my head down in your lap and took a deep breath as I felt you run your fingers through my hair. A gesture that had always calmed and still seemed to have the same effect today even after years of being forced apart. I took another deep sigh as I lifted my head up but still had my chin resting on your lap on top of our intertwined hands.

                 “It’s always been you.  It’s always only been you from the first moment I laid eyes on you in that dress shop years ago. I only love you, I have only ever loved you Y/N.” “What about her? This is your engagement ball afterall.”  You managed to stammer out through heavy breathing. “I don’t care about Kate. I only finally accepted one of my mother’s choices, so she’d finally get off my damned back.”  “Is that true Anthony Bridgerton?” I heard Kate demand from a short distance. I stood up fully, my hand still holding on to yours. “Yes Lady Sharma. I have only ever loved Y/N. We were forced apart by my mother’s doing because of societal rules. My apologies to Lady Sharma but I will be calling off our engagement and going back into the ballroom to address the Tton and make the claims and statement to marry the true love of my life. I can not lose her again as I have never stopped loving her.” “Very well, I will not get in the way of what your heart truly desires Mr. Bridgerton.”  

[pigeonwhumps]

Diaries of Eloise and Agatha Stanbury and Ira Waterhouse

Taglist: @painful-pooch (also @octopus-reactivated and @maracujatangerine since your actor pet post sparked this idea I'm tagging you too! Even though there isn't much acting whump actually in this, only the characters...)

Recently digitised diary entries of former pets Eloise and Agatha Stanbury, and their guardian Ira Waterhouse. All three were British pet liberation activists in the early to mid 20th century. These entries are from before they set up the Dockside Boarding House, commonly regarded as the first and longest-running safehouse in Britain.

[note from Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist to Raphael Fiori, Apprentice Digital Assistant: take out longest-running, you idiot. You want people to know where they live?]

1.7k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, film whump, recovery whump, broken jaw mention, non-con nudity (non-sexual) mention, PTSD, whipping mention, gagged mention, kidnapping mention, beating mention

Diary of Eloise Stanbury, January 1927 - August 1928

Related topics: Eloise Stanbury, Agatha Stanbury, Ira Waterhouse, Pet Liberation History, World Pet History, 1920s Britain, Social History, British Diaries

Transcribed by Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist at Rising Sun Bay Archive, Rising Sun Bay, ON

1st of January 1927

Dear Diary,

Agatha is teaching me to rede and rite, and as it is a new year I am of a mind to rite down sum of my thorts. I am asured this is entirely privat. We shall see.

Master's film studio went bankrupt last month. I cannot express how relieved I am. Surely now they will stop serching for us. I hope so. If we ar found we ar ded, I no this. The collaps has, however, stirred up my memories and the titeness in my gut again.

One of my strongest memories of the studio is wen we filmed propaganda during the Great War. It was the only time Agatha and I wer involved in filming for the war effort, but it was time enuf. Agatha and I spent ar time not filming counting the ways the film munishons factory treated pets differently to ar real one. And Agatha sumhow laffed so hard, she disrupted the paid crew and snorted thin gruel out her nose.

Then the camera operator broke her jaw so she culd not disturb them agen. It was okay, cos she did not need to talk and they only needed to film her back anyway, but then Master bete her later for showing him up, until she culd barely work. That part was wors.

My dremes ar confusing, full of fire and drowning even tho I was never in the fire. Ira ses it's cos I am so scared of fire. Agatha ses it's cos I almost drowned. I am not so sure of either. Maybe it is a punishment, for burning down the studio. Maybe I should not hav dun that. I am a free pet but a pet nonetheless, and arson is a crime.

Agatha's braver than me. She makes me braver too. I would never have dared laff before she was rented to Master, let alone run. I'm not sure the defians was always good for her tho. She has many scars, inside and out. I luv her, scars and all, but I don't no how she can be so brave.

There was a servis on Christmas for the local heros of the Great War. Mr Foster was mentioned. That scares me. He scares me, and I do not understand how Agatha is not scared. He was her owner for over a decade, after all.

She scoffed at that, wen I asked. She sed that there's no reason for her to be afrade, and she wuld like to find and thank the soldier who killed Mr Foster. She also sed he's not a hero. I think she should be careful. We didn't see the body. Wat if he comes back?

It's stupid. I no it's stupid. Even if he was still alive he'd hav better things to do than come after Agatha. He'd hav to, right? And I am grateful that he's ded. If he wasn't, I may not hav been abl to stay with Agatha after the Great War ended. It just feels wrong to celebrate so much wen we never saw a body.

Ira's talking about buying a bording hous, away from here. We're so close to the site of the new National Pet Training Centre, and it feels like there ar inspectors around every corner now. Also I do not understand half of wat Ira says about lacking in the gud food and spase, cos this is the best I hav ever eaten and I can live on far less, but I think that is also a reason. I do not no why a bording hous tho. I am scared to move, this is the safest I hav ever felt, but I will hav Agatha and Ira, and I will not go back to being a pet.

My name is Eloise Stanbury, sister, possibly, to Agatha Stanbury, ward of Ira Waterhouse, and I am a free woman.

Eloise Stanbury

_

Diary of Agatha Stanbury, October 1926 - February 1927

Related topics: Agatha Stanbury, Eloise Stanbury, Ira Waterhouse, Pet Liberation History, World Pet History, 1920s Britain, Social History, British Diaries

Transcribed by Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist at Rising Sun Bay Archive, Rising Sun Bay, ON

26th of December, 1926

Dear Diary,

Eloise asked me yesterday whether I am still afraid of Mr Foster. I think I managed to convince her that I am not, but we shall see. She has enough on her plate without worrying about me too. She's terrified already, and if she knows I am scared it will make her worse.

I am scared, though. So scared. Mr Foster is dead but I cannot forget everything he did to me. The decade when clothes were an extremely rare occurrence, when I almost forgot my own name. He once claimed that training was half the fun in owning a pet, and it showed. I came to London for the season and was kidnapped to be his pet instead. The scars are never going to leave me.

I cannot sleep alone in the dark anymore. I used to love it, until Mr Foster, but now it's like I cannot get my mind out of his house. Even after being owned by Mr Hayes instead for over ten years I cannot do it. How can it be legal to leave a person in your will, anyway? I confess that the lack of pet owning in my parents' circles has left me rather ignorant in the matter, but it still seems wrong.

Mr Foster was terrifying. He still is. I see him in half the faces on the streets, when I am brave enough to leave the house. Eloise says I'm brave, but I am not so sure. If I was so brave, surely Mr Foster's rules and sadism would not still be so affecting?

Ira does not agree with me. She says it is perfectly reasonable, that soldiers still have shell shock so why shouldn't I be affected by being scarred? I am unsure what to do with that.

I have fought, but it was not a war. Soldiers are not caged naked and gagged with horrible experimental gags, or whipped and beaten by sadists. They are not scarred on film simply because the starring pet is too valuable to be damaged herself.

That sounds like I blame Eloise. I do not. None of this was her fault. I hope, if I had ever become an actor as a person, I would have paid attention to the pets forced to perform, but most likely I wouldn't. I try not to think about that.

Mr Foster still haunts me, awake and asleep. Eloise does not know. She cannot know. She has enough nightmares of her own, and I do not want to wake her up from mine. I am so, so glad Mr Foster is dead, and I think (I hope) that Eloise thinks that is all I am. I told her the truth, just not the whole truth. I really would like to thank the soldier who killed Mr Foster. But I also wish I was not constantly so scared.

With love

Agatha Stanbury

_

Diary of Ira Waterhouse, December 1926 - October 1927

Related topics: Ira Waterhouse, Agatha Stanbury, Eloise Stanbury, Pet Liberation History, World Pet History, 1920s Britain, Social History, British Diaries

Transcribed by Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist at Rising Sun Bay Archive, Rising Sun Bay, ON

Wednesday, December 8th, 1926

Not content with having a London office, the WRU are now building a large training centre nearby. It's too close. Far too close. The numbers of inspectors and recapture officers are increasing daily it seems like now work has started, and my girls haven't left the house for days. Even when they do, they come back spooked, especially Eloise. If she was a cat, her hair would stand on end constantly.

The supporters of this new 'pet' class claim that it's entirely voluntary. Maybe for some it is. Maybe they really believe that. But if you're signing a lifetime contract, and being given a drug that's supposed to induce amnesia, making you more compliant and reliant on your owners, I'm not sure that it counts.

It is not always voluntary, anyway. A few weeks ago, Agatha told me her story of being kidnapped into it. How she tried to show an inspector her lack of a seller's mark and number, and he had her tattooed for a bribe. There must be others like her. As bad as the pet trade is, it feels even worse without even the pretence of volunteering.

We need to move. We are so close to the training centre, and one day our house is sure to be inspected. The girls will certainly be taken and killed, with no regard to even Agatha's kidnapping (I have my suspicions about her upbringing but I cannot find any living relatives in the society pages). And I won't come out of it well either.

I have been thinking of starting a boarding house. There must be others like my girls in need of a kind hand and an escape from the wretched pet system. I had to stop giving Agatha cleaning chores because she'd tremble in fear until I declared the house spotless, and Eloise sometimes stays in one spot for hours, forgetting that she is allowed and able to move. Even, maybe especially, if she's uncomfortable. They are both scarred, inside and out, and I'm sure there are others who could use a safe place to stay, at the very least.

I haven't brought my idea up to either of the girls yet, although I feel certain that neither would object to it. They're both kind people, although Eloise wouldn't like me calling her that. She gets prickly when anyone except Agatha says nice things about her.

If Eloise was an animal, she would definitely be a cat.

Ira Waterhouse

[elfboyeros]

The Gladiolus Festival

Bridgehid Masterlist [start from the beginning?]

@lerenee @jj-pines @karaboutmyart

The gladiolus flower, also known as the "sword lily", was the national flower of Maquis Island, despite the fact it was not native to the region. Then again most of the flowers that grew on the island were not native to the region, yet they thrived and fed on the magic that was within the island's soil. No one knew for certain why the flower began to bloom in April despite - when in its native regions - it begins to bloom in late June, but many believed it to be the magic.

The Gladiolus Festival takes place every year on the first Friday in April. It was a combination of a school field day and a traditional festival that took place on the east side of the island, starting in the town and stretching to the college, specifically using its training grounds, sports field, and two track fields.

This was why starter pistols were firing blanks in the air. Sloan watched students stand to perform in a relay as Indigo silently approached him.

The two friends stood side by side at the starting line, a starter pistol sat in the alchemist's hand while the mage just stood beside him wearing sunglasses as she watched the students at the starting line.

"Cover your ears," Sloan suggested before firing a blank in the air.

The students started running around the small track to claps and cheers from the spectators.

"How are you?" the alchemist questioned.

"I'm fine, better than I was last week," Indigo replied, "How is Casper?”

The alchemist looked over at her, he could tell even behind her shades she was hardly any better. She may have been sleeping a normal amount, but she wasn’t fine. Nevertheless, attempting to get that out of her was something he wasn’t in the mood for.

“Happy to be back home," Sloan stated, "Calvin said he'd have to take it easy for a while, but that he could go back to doing the work in the infirmary whenever he wanted... Thank you."

It was a thank you that went beyond just being by his side when his husband was in a coma.

"Of course, dear," Indigo muttered as she watched one of the students slap her seer apprentice's hand to continue the relay.

"GO GEORGIA!" she cheered loudly, jumping up and clapping.

Despite hating running, Georgia enjoyed making people happy, even if it was just someone she only talked to in the classes they had together.

The seer girl used all her stamina to run across the finish, winning the relay for her team, to a waterfall of claps and cheers and a large group hug from her teammates.

The apprentice mage fell dramatically in the grass off the field right before her friends and her teacher approached.

"I feel like I'm dying," she heaved.

"I think it was very much worth it," Nemo chuckled.

"You were amazing, Georgia!" Rowan said with a smile.

"I will be honest, with the way you were talking I didn’t think you'd go for first place," Elias said, "You were fast as lightning!”

"So, I actually won and didn't get have like a foot in front of me and then collapse before the finish," Georgia panted as she glanced up at her four friends, who were looking down at her in the grass, "Like this isn't one of those like dreams where I think I won but in reality I failed miserably?”

"No, you did it, Georgia," Rowan giggled.

"Guys, I think I am dying I see the goddess!" Georgia wheezed dramatically as Indigo extended a hand to her to help her up.

"Félicitations, Georgia! Let’s get you out of the grass, so we don't have to be taken to Calvin," the archmage remarked.

"I need a gallon of water," the seer huffed, leaning on Nemo as he helped her to walk.

"Let's get two gallons, you can drink one and we can pour the other one on you!" Rowan joked.

"Oh, that'd just be a waste of water," Georgia muttered.

The small friend group went to a water station, so the mage in training could get all the water she wanted. Once she felt well enough she went to go change out of the gym clothes she was in for the relay into more casual clothes so she could hang out with her friends.

Despite it being only noon, the day already had been so full of festivities. Even with that though, there was still more fun to be had.

"Ricky! Ricky, I did it!" Georgia exclaimed as Nemo, Elias, Rowan, and herself approached the healer's tent, "First place!"

"Georgia! That's amazing!" Maverick shouted with a large smile, hugging her tightly.

"Congratulations, Georgia," Calvin remarked, before turning his attention to Indigo who wasn't far behind the gaggle of teens that approached his booth, "I'll have some free time at 12:30 if you can wait that long," he commented after looking at his watch.

"That's fine," she replied, "I planned to-"

"Corals!"

It was said in the Polish accent of the cursed science professor, who happened to be in the walkway of booth tables. She stood there, arms crossed with that permanent scowl on her face, "Let's go for a little walk."

Indigo only nodded, following the ex-alchemist to have whatever conversation she wanted.

"Are you going to come with us Maverick?" Georgia asked.

"I..." he looked at Rowan with this look of scared apprehension before looking to Calvin, "Can I?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine, go have fun," the healer replied.

Maverick nodded, taking off his healer garb before interlocking fingers with his boyfriend, leaving Rowan a little confused.

"So, Percival, what do you wish to discuss?" Indigo remarked behind her shades as she and the cursed professor walked along the outskirts of the festival.

Percy couldn’t bring herself to look at Indigo, "How are you feeling?"

"I wish you all would stop asking me that! I'm fine," Indigo scoffed.

"Mhm," Percy hummed, "I've met the fine Indigo, she's more smiley then you are."

"Oh, shut up," Indigo sighed.

"Have you told Rowan?" Percy asked, being quite crass.

"Huh?"

"They seemed different, as if something was wrong. I assumed that was because the truth was out now," Percy replied, "Especially since they were snooping in your office last week."

Indigo kept her mouth shut.

"Don’t tell me you haven't told them anything."

The mage was once again silent.

“Indigo," Percy huffed.

"If they can't remember, who am I to ruin their paradise?" Indigo replied.

The two of them stopped walking and the science professor turned to face the historian, "Indigo, they are asking about it and you are hiding things from them!"

"I know! But what would you have me do!?"

"Be honest with the child you have in your care!"

Percy was being oddly sympathetic, "For a woman that usually thinks with her heart rather than her mind, you are not thinking with either at the moment," Percy scoffed, "I would have thought you’d have made this right."

"I'm trying!"

The cursed woman stared at the French archmage, all she could see was a deep despair. A sort of empty haze, like Indigo wasn’t completely there. The look in her midnight eyes made Percy feel sick.

“Where is the woman I hate? Where is the overconfident mage who thinks that no one can touch her? Where is the woman who says my name with such a fake sweet voice that it makes me sick? …Where is the woman who challenged me to be a better person without even a single word? Why has she been replaced with a hollow shell?! She was someone who, I begrudgingly will admit, is one of the smartest people on this island. And why, why is she instead acting so damn foolish?! Tell me, Indigo!” Percy ranted at her.

Indigo is yet again left speechless.

“I don't want to care about you because you look pitiful, that’d be Sloan’s job or your parents’ job. I want to care about you because you make me feel something more than this sorrowful sickness!" Percy continued to bellow, "I don't care about a lot of people, but believe it or not I care for your ward! And seeing you do this to them is horrendous!"

“…I'm working on making it right," Indigo retorted, but honestly she just sounded miserable, "Percy, I can't say anything other than I'm working on it! I want to have the right answer to their future questions! I will make it right; I just need more time!"

Percy clicked her tongue, Indigo wasn’t one to say Percy when addressing the ex-alchemist, it's almost always Percival... Percy had allowed her that.

"We don't need to talk any further until you get everything straightened out," the cursed woman said before leaving without another word. This left Indigo there by herself in her gloom.

Back with the teens, the fun continued!

But even though they were all having a good time, there was a sort of uneasiness in the air.

Rowan was able to trace the uneasiness back to its source, Maverick.

"Hey, Elias..." the pink-haired teen said as the two of them played a dart balloon-popping game, "Is Maverick upset with me?"

"What do you mean?" the white-haired male asked.

"The way he looked at me back at the healer's tent. It looked like he was scared to be around me. All day he's been, like I don't know, afraid to look at me. But I can tell that he's looking at me! Like when we first met, he -I don't know- just kept staring at me like I was familiar, but like he hasn't said anything!"

"I mean I told him that you looked familiar, and he seemed pretty down that you couldn't remember me," Elias replied, "But he hasn't said anything about you, to me at least."

"This better not be another situation where I knew him and I can't freaking remember" Rowan huffed, throwing their last dart at the board and missing, "If it is I'm going to be pissed."

"Guys!" Georgia exclaimed a few booths ahead of them with Maverick and Nemo, "There’s a fortune teller here, you all wanna get your fortunes read?"

Elias and Rowan looked at each other and shrugged following the Georgian girl down the street.

"I thought seers didn't like fortune tellers," Nemo commented.

"No... well I don't know... maybe," Georgia replied, "But I think they're fun."

The group came upon a large circus-like tent, bright purple with a light yellow diamond patterning. Pushing past the curtain, they saw a palace of pillows in dark shades of blue, rouge, and mauve, with an Egyptian woman wearing a hijab, and many pieces of bangle jewelry, sitting in the middle of her plush place, a small tea table in front of her with tarot cards, candles, tea kettle, cups, and a -presumed- fake crystal ball off to the side.

"Welcome," she said softly, "Please sit."

The teens took seats on the pillows in a half circle in front of the table, "You five are good friends, yes?"

"Some of us," Nemo mumbled, looking around the tent.

"Right, because you can't be friends with your brother."

Nemo and Elias looked at each other then back at the fortune teller, "Oh come on, you look alike, it's not that hard to tell you two are related. I mean you have the same beauty mark, nose shape, and eye color."

Nemo clicked his tongue and Elias rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as Maverick and Georgia snickered.

"Quit laughing," Nemo scoffed quietly, looking over at his boyfriend who was not doing a good job hiding his laughter.

"I can't help it," Maverick snorted.

"The stars are in you two’s favor," the fortune teller commented, she flipped over a few tarot cards, "Despite your past, the two of you will make amends in the near future. You two should sit down and talk about your differences."

The twins looked at her once again, they shared a look as if to say later.

“You there, the little girl," the woman said.

"Me?" Georgia questioned.

"You have a bright future," the woman mused, "You are on the right path. You have so much potential."

The fortune teller's words made Georgia smile wide, "You shine bright, if you keep up the great work, you will shine even brighter."

There was a moment of silence, the woman looked at Maverick, then to Rowan for a second, and back at Maverick, "You are holding on to a lot. You are holding a lot of it in."

Maverick swallowed, "You need to loosen your grip on whatever it is you are holding on to. It will make you feel lighter."

After speaking to Maverick, the woman's full attention was on Rowan. It made them a little uncomfortable, being stared at. It felt like the fortune teller was reaching into their soul and pulling out something Rowan didn't even know they had within them.

"I advise you to be cautious in the coming days. I sense your life will be changed: I suggest you think before you act."

Rowan stares at her wide-eyed, what the fuck is going to happen? Why do they have to be cautious, what kind of vague shit is this?

"You all are close, I can tell, I hope whatever is coming you all can overcome it together," the fortune teller remarked, “…Would you like some tea?"

The group of teens shook their heads before readying to leave.

"Thank you so much," Georgia cooed, as she headed to exit the tent with her friends.

"Well, that was not one of my best ideas," the seer girl was a little disappointed about the weird outcomes.

"We all can't have good ideas all the time," Nemo remarked, "It’s alright!"

"You okay, Rowan?” Elias asked, as the pink-haired teen stared blankly at their feet as they walked.

"Why the hell would I have to cautious?" they muttered.

"Fortune tellers are vague on propose, it probably means nothing," Nemo answered.

"And what did she mean "My life will change”? What the actual fuck?!" Rowan huffed, "It’s like Georgia's grandmother: "Something will change your being" what does all this mean?”

"Rowan, I love my grandmother, but she is a very old seer that sits in a chair listening to the tv all day. She probably just wanted to screw with you,” Georgia offered up in an attempt to reassure them.

"Or she could have been right, hell that fortune teller could have been right!" Rowan shouted.

The teens had stopped moving, turning all of their attention on Rowan.

Elias, Nemo, and Georgia looked between each other and at Rowan, feeling rather concerned, while Maverick stood silent, fidgeting, not making eye contact with anyone.

“…I mean, seriously?! Why do I always feel so weird when I go to school?! …Why the hell is it so hard to find out anything about my childhood?! Why don’t I remember my parents?! ...I don’t know how my own mom died, like fuck I should at least know or remember that. But it feels like everyone is always lying to me! … WHAT IS THIS “BIG” THING THAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN?! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO FUCK UP MY LIFE?!” Rowan ranted angrily.

“…You can't remember your childhood?" Georgia repeated in shock.

"Rowan, how long has this been bothering you?" Nemo asked worriedly.

“…Since the ball," they huffed.

"And you didn't tell us?!" Georgia probed.

"I told Elias," Rowan muttered, "I know you guys are my friends too, but you all have different kinds of stuff going on and I didn't want to bother you."

"Oh Row," Georgia sighed, going in for a hug which they returned, "We’ll always be here for you!"

"Thank you..."

Nemo looked over at Maverick, "Babe, you okay?" he asked, seeing how nervous his boyfriend was, "Maverick..."

He wanted to say it, he wanted to get it all off his chest. Tell them everything he knew. No, he had to tell them, “…Rowan," he said in a shaky tone, "Duke is the reason you don't have your memories!"

The group fell silent while Rowan gave Maverick a wide-eyed look.

“He was "testing the limits of alchemy and magic" using you as his test subject! He said he was trying to "cure" the creatures under the college and you were the perfect subject!" the white-haired teen expounded, "...The night your mom died, he had the mages hide your memories away! He said it was just to get rid of the memories of that night, but something went wrong!"

"How long have you known this, Maverick?!" Elias asked loudly, with a ball of fury lodged in his chest.

"Since it all began," he replied, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I couldn't do anything! He's my grandfather! He was going to mess with Nemo's grades, take away my apprenticeship, and disband the art club! He was going to take away the few things I love if I said what he did to you or to me!"

Maverick was basically sobbing by the time he finished speaking.

"Duke's your grandfather!?" Georgia gasped.

Maverick looked at his feet in defeat, "I'm so sorry!"

Rowan only stared at him as Nemo stood at his side, a hand on his shoulder.

They were experimented on as a child, by the weird dean of the college. More importantly, he had the mages hide their memories!

Even if taking away the memories of Rowan’s early childhood was only a mistake, that didn’t really make it any better.

"I need to find Indigo!”

[mima-sama]

Dear Mima, Greetings, I have heard much about you. I can only hope you have heard about me as well, Sagacious Spirit and Sworn Enemy of the Lunarians, Junko. I hear that you are also a spirit tied to this world through hatred... Curiously however, I observe that you do not appear that way on your surface... Tell me, if it is not too much to ask. How do you remain so calm? I hope to employ these methods myself. Thank you in advance. - Junko

"Ah, Junko! Yes, I've heard of you, and your exploits. Big fan of your work, to be honest. It takes someone special to make those Lunarians shit their pants like that. I’m not too fond of them, myself."

"As for how I remain calm... well, it all comes down to one thing, I suppose. I formed a new attachment. I used to be extraordinarily malevolent, as well as quick to anger, but when I took on Marisa as an apprentice, that made me slow down and think about things more.”

"When you're a teacher, your students learn a lot from you, but in return, you learn a lot of things from your students-- like how to be patient. How to focus. It grounded me. So while I still have a lot of rage boiling underneath the surface, I've learned how to focus it at those who are most... deserving of it."

“Speaking of, if you happen to come across a blue-haired vengeful spirit wearing red and white stripes, do let me know? I have... business with her.”

“Ahem. Excuse me, got a little side-tracked there. Anyway, I found something to focus on other than my hatred. I’ve never really forgotten my grudge, but having something else to focus on can really help keep me calm. Even if you can’t get rid of that hatred, adding a little love back into the mix can do wonders for your disposition.”

[kingmagnificoofrosas]

Hi! I wanted to ask for your opinion on an idea regarding a rewrite of Wish movie I'm writing, and it's that some time ago the movie was going to be about the origin of the wishing star we see in Disney movies (an idea that was later discarded), and suddenly it came to my mind....

“What if King Magnífico was the wishing star?”

It's such a crazy idea, I know, but after watching the whole movie I couldn't help but think about that idea and how interesting it could have been. Now, how would i carry out this? Well, it's an idea in process for the rewrite I'm doing of the movie, and there would be a lot of changes to the original story, for example:

In the "climax scene", when Magnifico is already possessed by the book of dark magic, and absorbs the wishes together with the star, we would have a confrontation between master and apprentice. Now, with the power of the star in his hands, the king would say to Asha something like...

"Now I will show you the true power of the wishes!"

And using his magic scepter the king would transform into a great dragon!

(That would be a reference to Maleficent in "Sleeping Beauty," when she transformed into a dragon to fight the prince. I was hoping that Magnífico would transform into a dragon or something else in the movie, but sadly that never happened 😔).

Back to the story, Asha, with the help of her friends and the queen, managed to defeat the king. Expelling the malevolent entity from his body, however, the price of his deliverance was Magnifico's own life.

The star sympathizes with the queen, seeing how devastated she is by the loss of her husband, and understanding that the king only acted based on his fear of his kingdom being destroyed as in his past.

(I've read your blogs about Magnifico suffering post-traumatic stress after the sacking of his village, and it's something that really stood out to me, as it gives a lot of depth to the character, as well as helping us understand his actions. It doesn't justify him, but it helps to understand why he acted as he did).

Anyway, the star decided to use it magic on the king. Magnifico's body rose up and shone with a blinding light that forced everyone to cover their eyes, and when they opened them they saw a big star in the sky. A star that shone brighter than the others, it was beautiful and magnificent. Now Magnifico was among the stars, bathing the kingdom with his warm light.

Amaya would have a conflict with her emotions, on the one hand, she would feel a deep sadness at no longer having her husband by her side, but at the same time she would feel comfort, knowing that now the king would watch over his kingdom, and her, from the sky.

“The king who once fulfilled the dreams of his subjects on earth, now does so every night in the sky.”

Sorry this has been so long, but it's an idea I had in my head and Tumblr won't let me post my blog 🥲

Thank you very much for your attention, hope you have a nice day!

Hey anon!

And whoo what a long one here! But don't worry, it's all fine!

I'm generally not a big fanfiction reader anymore. But that doesn't mean that I cannot give my advice and opinion 😉

Now, I've heard lots of ideas for fanfic content in the past months and while I think there are indeed some very creative ones along them, I don't pay much attention to them. Not because some ideas aren't good, in fact, I think your idea is very creative and special in its own way! I just am not a big fan of fanfictions anymore. 😆

Of course there are very talented writers out there, heck I even started out as a fanfiction writer myself. Many authors started as fanfiction writers in fact.

My advice is, if you truly want to write something that is dear to your heart, write it! Write the thing! No matter what anyone says. If it won't leave your mind, bring it down. Tell your story! Because only you can tell it!

And also! DON'T MAKE ME FREAKING CRY 😭 But seriously, I can see potential in your writing skills! I might not be interested to read fanfictions BUT ☝🏻 I can tell you, you are talented and most def. creative!

So, bottom line, if you really want to do it. DO IT! 💙✨️

[franklyshipping]

How To Punish Mischief Makers ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

HERE WE HAVE A SNAZZY ANON PROMPT WITH SOME MISCHIEVOUS PRANKSTERS AFOOT! LET’S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @anti-switch-glitch @jameson-lee-jackson @jam-lee-jackson and @darkipli-ler

Jamie’s eyes were wide with excitement as Anti showed him the blueprint. Because of course Anti would be the kind of person to have a whole-ass blueprint for a prank. That’s right, we have mischief afoot. The ego manor was at the tail end of a week-long spree of pranks and tricks, all thanks to the duo we see before us. Anti had taken Jamie under his wing, and was tutoring him in all the ways of pranking, mischief and cheekiness… and Jamie was loving it. The sweet moustached man preferred a simpler prank compared to Anti’s complex contraptions, but he was very good at pulling them off. Buckets of water and confetti, tickly jump scares, placing masked dummies in people’s bathrooms, and replacing shampoo with a condiment were his specialties. Anti could not have been more proud.

However, their mischief was starting to get ever so slightly out of hand. The two of them in their excitement had gotten quite carried away, so much so that you could barely take a step in the manor without something befalling you! It was all in fun of course, because Anti and Jamie stuck to a special rule: amuse, don’t abuse. But, when a certain ego walked into his office and found himself soaked from an awaiting bucket atop his door, he decided enough was enough. Darkiplier was going to dole out some justice… well, his version of justice anyhow. Anti and Jamie were walking down a corridor, giggling happily without a care in the world… until their worlds went black.

‘AHH WHAT THE SHIT?!’

Anti yelled and Jamie gasped fearfully, but the darkness then dissipated just as quickly as it had come. When they regained their vision however, Anti and Jamie were in a much different position. They were each bound to a chair with their arms restrained above their heads, and their ankles locked in stocks in front of them. Anti immediately tugged at his wrists as he looked at Jamie, his eyes wide.

‘Buddy! Buddy are you okay?’

‘I think so, are you?’

Jamie managed to sign – unlike Anti who was restrained by his wrists, Jamie’s arms were bound by his elbows so he could still sign without any hindrance. That at least was a good sign for them both.

‘Yeah yeah I’m good, but where the fuckin’ hell are we?!’

‘Well now Anti I’m shocked. I thought you would surely recognise the scene of your crime.’

Anti and Jamie jumped, and gulped when they saw Dark stood in front of them, smiling amusedly as his eyes flicked between them. Now they both recognised Dark’s office. Jamie instantly got goosebumps, averting his gaze as Anti narrowed his eyes at Dark.

‘Is that meant to mean somethin’ to me?’

Dark chuckled, ambling over to Anti so he could look down at him. He held the glitch’s chin gently, his eyes twinkling as he purred.

‘You know you’re rather cute when you try and play dumb. Completely unconvincing of course, but still cute.’

‘Shut up! Let us go you ass!’

Anti shook his jaw free from Dark’s hold, a little blush teasing his cheeks as he glared up at Dark. The sharp suited ego snickered with amusement.

‘My dear Anti, you and your sweet little apprentice are going nowhere until you have paid for your actions.’

Dark sent Jamie a smirk then, making the mute man go bright red, squirming in his restraints as he wondered what on earth was in store! Anti meanwhile scoffed, sneering at Dark like the absolute brat that he was.

‘Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, we’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘Oh is that so?’

Dark raised an eyebrow at him, before looking expectantly at Jamie who got goosebumps under the man’s gaze.

‘What about you, hm? Anything you wish to confess?’

Jamie nibbled his lip, feeling so torn. On the one hand he wanted to confess all that he’d done… but on the other hand, he loved doing all those pranks with Anti, and keeping them secret was the most fun part! Yes, Dark was incredibly intimidating, but Jamie knew he wouldn’t harm them… so how bad could the consequences really be?

‘I have nothing to tell you. Like Anti said, we’ve done nothing wrong.’

He signed, looking at Dark with the biggest pair of puppy eyes in history. Dark was almost taken in by him… but not quite. He smiled and took a seat in his own chair, crossing his legs with a sigh.

‘Very well. It’s your funeral.’

Jamie gulped, and then he and Anti both tensed when Dark’s eyes suddenly turned black… before tendrils of shadows started bleeding from his body, and slithering through the air towards them. They moved slowly, like animals carefully picking up scents and sounds. Jamie’s heart started pounding as he eyed them nervously, whilst Anti tried to remain impassive and not let on how nervous he was. Then they flinched when tendrils started sliding down their arms, and they both started to smile. Dark smirked.

‘Something funny gentlemen?’

Dark’s tendrils started softly tickling their armpits, sneaking under their sleeves so they could get to their sensitive bare skin. Anti snorted and tugged at his arms, spluttering with embarrassment as his giggles bounced out of him. Jamie’s whole body jumped as he burst into melodious giggles, shaking his head and squirming as Anti tried to glare at Dark.

‘Nahaha yohohou ahahass g-gehet ohohoff!’

‘Why? Is there a problem?’

‘Dahahark yohohou pihiece of shihit!’

Anti growled, making Dark smirk with amusement. He loved tickling everyone in the manor, but getting Anti never ceased to give him such wonderful satisfaction.

‘Well now that’s not very polite.’

Dark clicked his tongue as he tutted, and the tendrils stroked and flicked faster in Anti’s hollows, making his giggles turn hysterical. Jamie gaped at Dark’s cruelty, and struggled loudly in his restraints to get the man’s attention. Then when Dark looked at him, he signed with pursed lips.

‘You leave him alone!’

Dark chuckled warmly, finding Jamie ever so endearing.

‘Aww I’m sorry Jamie, are you feeling left out?’

Jamie’s eyes widened, and he realised too late that cheekiness perhaps wasn’t the best course of action. Now the tendrils in his armpits were tickling faster, making him squeal and thrash, his struggles increasing so much that he made his entire chair shake! Dark laughed warmly as he remarked.

‘My my, what a valiant little apprentice you are. It’s adorable, it really is.’

Jamie flushed bright red, jolting and bouncing in the chair as he let out lots of sporadic squeaks and yips. Anti was similarly wild with his mirth, his giggles interspersed with yelps as he tossed his head about. Dark chuckled as he watched them, thinking that he really should a) have done this sooner, and b) do this far more frequently in the future. He doubted Anti and Jamie would agree though, especially judging by Anti’s fresh outburst.

‘YOHOU MAHADE YOHOUR POINT! FUHUCKIN’ STAHAP THIS!’

Dark smirked, and got up from his seat as he purred.

‘I disagree. Your lack of manners makes me think I’m not punishing you nearly severely enough.’

Anti shivered and gulped as Jamie let out a nervous whine, and the underarm tickling stopped. With Anti, the tendrils around him oh so slowly slid down his torso and legs, making him giggle and twitch as they moved closer to their fresh target. His stocked bare feet. Meanwhile Dark ambled to stand in front of Jamie’s feet, his crimson irises glinting as he grinned at the sweet, nervous man.

‘Tell me Jamie… you wouldn’t happen to have ticklish feet, would you?’

Jamie’s eyes went wide as he shook his head, his hands a flurry as he signed.

‘No!’

‘No? Are you sure?’

Dark teased as he rolled up his sleeves, which made Jamie sign even more frantically… even though deep down, he knew what was going to happen.

‘Yes I’m sure, I’m really sure I’m super sure!’

Dark smirked affectionately, and decided to keep eye contact with Jamie as he reached out and trailed his blunt nails up and down the cute man’s soles. Jamie couldn’t help it, he immediately burst into giggles, his face scrunching up as Dark chuckled.

‘I think someone’s a little liar.’

‘Yohou get off him rihight now!’

Anti exclaimed, which made Dark smile at him… and his eyes flicked to black as he purred.

‘Jamie is just fine here with me. I think you ought to be more concerned with yourself, my dear Anti.’

Dark winked, and then Anti absolutely howled with laughter as Dark’s tendrils mercilessly raked up and down his insanely ticklish feet – basically, Anti was screwed.

‘AHHHHH NAHAHAHA FAHAHAHAAACK!’

As Dark’s eyes returned to crimson, he noticed Jamie gulp at Anti’s hysteria and thrashing, so he smiled reassuringly.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to do that to you. Plus, Anti secretly loves it.’

Dark snickered as Anti babbled out a bunch of incoherent, flustered noises through his laughter. Then he softly scratched up and down Jamie’s soles, making him shiver and giggle frantically as his feet wriggled and scrunched.

‘Please Dark not my feet, please don’t tickle there please!’

He signed, looking at Dark pleadingly as his beaming smile spread across his face. Dark chuckled, scraping his blunt nails agonisingly against Jamie’s arches as he teased.

‘Ohh but I’ve just found the most perfect rhythm, it would be such a shame to break it.’

Jamie threw his head back amidst his giggle fits and whimpers as Dark continued his evil tickling. He didn’t know what to do! Jamie’s mind felt all fuzzy and muddled as the tickly feelings spread through his body; the sensations at his feet were just so maddening, and he even had tears beading at the corners of his bright brown eyes.

‘It tickles so bad!’

‘So I can see. I must say Jamie, you’re awfully cute and pretty like this. I think I might keep you.’

Jamie’s flush reached his neck now, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he felt this flustered! Then he gasped and snorted when Anti yelled very loudly.

‘NOHOHOHO! HEHE’S MY BEHESTIE, GEHET YOUR OHOHOWN!’

Jamie smiled bashfully as Dark burst out laughing at Anti’s outburst, frankly amazed that Anti still had the strength to be coherent! His tendrils hadn’t let up for even a moment at Anti’s feet, and the glitch had tears streaming down his hot cheeks. Dark might have felt bad, if he didn’t know just how much Anti adored the more intense side of things. He smiled at Anti teasingly and raised an eyebrow.

‘Always so possessive.’

Anti was about to try and muster up a glare, but when he suddenly felt the tendrils stroke and flick under his toes he was gone. Anti became a mess of squawks and scream-laughter, whilst Dark returned his attention to Jamie.

‘Though I admit, I can be rather possessive myself. Especially with ticklish little dears like you.’

He remarked playfully, before deciding to scratch at the pads of Jamie’s toes experimentally… and oh boy did he get results. Jamie gaped and let out a colossal guffaw, before his back sharply arched and he descended into silent laughter, his hands communicating desperately as his worst tickle spot was exploited.

‘Not there not there not there!!!’

‘Not your little toes? Aww, are they a bad tickle spot?’

‘Yes yes yes!!!’

Jamie nodded over and over again, thrashing and letting out soft wheezes. Dark sneered, because he knew he’d won.

‘Are you sorry for being a naughty little prankster?’

Needless to say, Jamie didn’t hesitate with his good manners now.

‘Yes yes I’m sorry I’m so sorry!!!’

Dark smirked smugly, before glancing over at Anti and calling out musingly.

‘And are you sorry, or do I need to keep you a little longer?’

Anti so badly wanted to continue being a stubborn, sassy little shit – as was his nature – but alas, even he had limits.

‘OKAHAHAY OKAHAY IHI’M FUHUCKIN’ SOHOHORRY!’

Dark hummed with happy satisfaction, taking a few moments to look between the two hysterical men with fondness, before he had complete mercy. Not only did all his tendrils recede back into his body, but he also snapped his fingers to released Anti and Jamie from their restraints completely. They both gasped, Anti panting audibly as Dark smiled.

‘There now, was that so difficult?’

Through his residual giggles Anti sent Dark a gentle glare, which made him chuckle; he expected no less. Then Dark turned to Jamie, who had curled himself up in his chair very adorably. Dark came and stood by him as Anti got up and started stretching, and Dark made his voice low and soothing as he spoke.

‘Are you alright?’

Jamie’s face was half-hidden by his hands at first, but then he looked up at Dark and smiled. His face was a lovely pink, his eyes gleamed with the remnants of joyful tears, and his smile was the biggest in all the world.

‘Yeah, I’m good.’

Jamie nodded up at Dark as he signed, and Dark smiled gladly before he leaned in with a playful grin.

‘Good. I’d hate to break someone so sweet.’

Jamie giggled bashfully, but then he and Dark had to hold back full laughter when Anti came over with the most affronted look you could possibly imagine.

‘Oh but you’re happy enough tryna break me?! I see how it is.’

Anti and Dark playfully glared at each other as Jamie clutched his stomach, giggling happily at the silliness. Then though, Dark’s expression shifted into a more curious one as he looked between them.

‘By the way I wanted to ask… which one of you made the decision to put that bucket of water atop my door?’

Anti and Jamie gulped a little, but they both knew that at this point there was no point in even trying to lie… so Jamie gently raised his hand. Dark raised an eyebrow at him, admittedly surprised, but then he smiled amusedly.

‘You? Well Jamie… I must say I’m impressed. Not many people succeed in fooling me with their mischief.’

Jamie gasped happily at the praise, and Anti grinned hugely as pride swelled warmly in his chest. Then Dark stepped back from them both, leaning his hip against his desk as he purred.

‘Now, I suggest you both run along… before my mercy runs its course.’

Anti and Jamie shared a look, and immediately headed for the door. Dark snorted softly under his breath at the pair of them, and sighed when Anti mock-saluted at him.

‘Catch ya later emo!’

Dark narrowed his eyes at the glitch warmly, and then chuckled when Jamie sent him a little wave before he followed Anti out the door. Dark sighed. He knew without a doubt that the pair would restart their mischief as soon as they possibly could, and that indeed he would probably end up being the victim of even more pranks in the coming days and weeks. But to that, he smiled. Their mischief was making the entire household smile after all, plus if they did get especially cheeky… his shadows were always there, ready to make them smile too.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOO LUV YOUS!!