#the fact that hes a fucking minister as well now holy shit

[brainbleedo]

TREVOR HERBERT??!?!

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I'm super mad right now. This has nothing to do with Marvel, I just need to vent.

I'm so fucking tired of reading posts on social media with thousands of notes from people who claim the media outlets "are not reporting" on something, or "don't care" or some variation of that shit.

And I recognize I'm obviously biased on this but holy shit, you know the majority of people who say that crap NEVER follow the news? These are the ones who think they're informed because they've read 3 tweets on some matter. The same folks who don't watch the news nor listen to the radio, let alone buy a fucking newspaper (I bet my ass they have never done that in their lives!).

So I read some bullshit over the "media" not talking about Iran and I just can't believe my eyes. We get the news everyday, Iranian activists go on TV every single day to inform of what's going on, I watched an interview with the Iranian ambassador early this week and the bastard had the guts to try and justify what had been done to Mahsa and guess what? The journo cut him a new one. He was super clear, didn't put up with any of the crap the ambassador was saying, the journalists are NOT putting up with this! I know leaders are speaking against it, our PM sent a statement a few days ago, the EU is meeting in order to impose sanctions on Iran........ and all this shit I know because I follow the news, I care about informing myself. And yet I have to put up with idiots who can't be bothered to read a newspaper claim that the "media" don't care? Kiss my ass.

I read some bullshit that the "media" has forgotten about Ukraine despite the fact that we have news every fucking day, we have journalists WHO ARE RISKING THEIR LIVES to inform the entire world, we get interviews with Ukrainians, the TV + radio + newspapers contact experts on external affairs, they interview the ministers, they have journalists in Brussels and the US who tell us what's going on over there, there are professionals in fucking Russia who need to censor their tweets and never write the word "war" because they're afraid they might be taken by the dictator and sent to prison.

All these men and women are risking their lives only to have a bunch of fucking ignorant dumbfucks go on social media and claim they don't care? No honey, YOU don't care. YOU are the one who refuses to follow the news (*) but has the fucking audacity to shit-talk those who are endangering themselves just so you can get a bunch of notes or likes or whatever the hell by claiming "oh the media don't care".

You know who LOVES to read your shit? You know where that leads us? Fascism, that's where. They are the ones who want you to believe that the media lies to you so that you won't believe what they say, they are the ones who want to convince you to stand against the system by claiming all politicians are corrupt, that's what they want! To isolate you so that you will only believe the crap they sell while at the same time being so dumb that you think you're being progressive.

Yes the system isn't perfect and yes it needs to be improved but a democracy isn't a fucking joke, the institutions matter, there are politicians out there who are BRILLIANT at what they do and most media outlets work fantastically well despite the journalists being paid like shit and having awful working conditions.

Have some fucking respect.

(*) I want to point out that I know many people don't follow the news for various reasons, that's their predicament and I respect the hell out of it. I know the world right now is a mess and it hurts to see certain things, all the power to you guys. This is aimed at those who don't inform themselves but still hate on journalism.

[azenkii]

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hii uhhh this is for mermay, but it's not one of the fills so please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't catch your interest!!

Idea;; within a mostly-canon setting, Duck is turned into a merperson (probably while they're trying to deal with one of the abominations, but that part's flexible) and has to deal with it while still trying to like,, function. He gets a magic disguise, but hijinks ensue.

Here you go! I attached this to "Summer rain" and another mermay prompt. It's SFW

The last time he went flying through the air and into the water while fighting an abomination, he almost died. So he’s none too pleased when he surfaces from being chucked in Lake Brahe.

“What the fuck Indrid?!”

“I’m so sorry” Mothman flaps above him, both sets of hands tapping together anxiously, “I promise this is for the best but I’ll admit the exact process might have been overkill.”

“You fuckin’ think??” Duck kicks towards shore, grabbing his hat as it tries to float away, “the others are still back there with that thing. And I fuckin hate bein’ chucked into things without warnin.”

“I don’t think there are people who do enjoy such things.” Indrid alights on the shore Duck is swimming towards.

“Well then don’t fuckin do them.”

“It is for your own good, Duck Newton.”

“Yeah, heard that one before.” He hits shallow water, wades to shore trying to shake his hat dry, “now c’mon, fly me back so we can-”

His legs crumple, sending him face first into the lake. Crawling is no good, his whole body contorting and shaking, his throat and lungs burning. He claws at the pebbles and sand, coming away with fistfuls, grabbing for something, anything, to pull him from the water, as if reaching shore will free him from the pain wracking his body.

The world is coming in photo negative now, flashes of color that don’t make sense, the crack of his bones filling his ears. He might he crying, the pain is too deep to tell what else he’s feeling or doing.

“Help” he rasps into the night air.

Human hands cup his face, guide his aching head down across bony legs, “It will not last much longer.”

“Am” he gasps, feels the Sylph turn their bodies for some unknown purpose, breathing easier after he does, “am I gonna die.”

“No. And before you ask, your powers would not have done much for you if you still had them.”

“Fuck” he whimpers.

“Agreed.” Indrid strokes his hair, “five more seconds. Four, three, two, one.”

Duck passes out before Indrid can say anything else. He’s roused by the footfalls of combat boots and wingtips down the beach.

“Duck, Indrid-OH HOLY SHIT!”

“He’s not-”

“No, Ned, he is very much alive. Had I not moved him when I did, he would have suffocated before you could get him to any water.”

“Thank god.” Ned must be by his head.

“Aubrey, can, can you, it hurts-”

“Ummmmm” His friend sounds like she’s trying to come up with a comforting explanation, “which part of your tail hurts?”

Duck sits bolt upright, then falls back into Indrid’s arms, staring at the deep green and silver tail where his legs should be.

“Well….fuck.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“How are you doing?” Indrid, red glasses glinting and pink and yellow sweater hanging off his tall frame, perches on a rock.

“Great. I’m a regular, breakable dipshit who turned into a fuckin merman without warnin, I had to have Barclay call work and tell ‘em I got a flu so they won’t fire me for disppearin, anything my friends bring me to eat gets soggy, and I ain’t seen my cat in three days.”

“So...not good then?”

Duck raises an eyebrow. Indrid smiles, not his usual confident, casual one. He looks unsure, which is in and of itself kind of unnerving.

“No, Indrid. Not good at all.”

“Ah. Apologies, I sometimes have trouble parsing certain tones.”

Duck swims closer, “Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright. You have every reason to be angry and upset. Even with me.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t curse me.”

“No. But had I moved faster, gotten to you all sooner, you would not have been in it’s path at all.”

It’s so matter of fact. The same way Indrid talks about anything troubling.

“Certainly my most newsworthy failure”

“Had you not arrived at the cottonwood, it would have been rather bad for me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the eye. It hurt, but I have felt far worse.”

“And I have yet more bad news; while I can make a charm that will allow you to be in your human form for up to six hours at a time, the properties of that abomination mean eventually you’ll have to return to water.”

There’s a flicker in the smile, so swift Duck wonders if it’s only because his eyes are no longer human, slit pupiled instead of round, that he sees it at all. Or if it’s because this is the first time they haven’t been surrounded by heat, noise, or danger.

“Indrid, you know I don’t blame you, right?”

“Of course, Duck. I was merely being thorough in my apology.” Now it’s his normal, wide smile, but too tight across his teeth.

“He was before my time.” Vincent grins as he sets the DVDs on a well-dusted shelf, “though if Woodbridge is anything like he is now, I doubt they got along. The other ministers say he was...determined when he left. Like he could conquer any challenge earth presented during his quest."

Indrid’s glasses slip down his nose and he pushes them up before Duck gets even a glance at his eyes, “Now, where did I put that pin…” He pats his pockets, freezes when Duck manages to set a hand on his shin.

“Indrid, I mean it. Didn’t blame you then, don’t blame you now. Hell, from the sound of it you saved my ass, big time. So, uh, what I’m tryin to say is thanks. For lookin out for me.”

He squeezes in what he hopes is a friendly fashion. Indrid chirps, once, face losing all trace of eeriness. Then he schools it back to normal.

“You’re welcome. Punching aside, I’m quite fond of you. I’m going to use this for your charm, if that’s alright.” A souvenir pin from the Monongahela's tenth anniversary sits between slender fingers.

“Holy shit, I been lookin for that for ages. I, uh, I try to-”

“Collect them, yes. I saw that in a conversation between you and Juno. I was going to give this to you anyway, goodness knows it took awhile to find it in the trailer, but now it can serve a greater purpose.” With that, he pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Duck’s image unfolds before them, Indrid smoothing it out and setting it on the rock as he begins working. Duck watches with interest, notices the process is much slower than it was when Indrid disguised Billy.

“Am I harder to get right than Ryan Gosling?”

“Yes. Well, not technically, no, but with Billy I just needed him to look human. I need you to look like, well, you. Such a fine specimen requires the utmost care.”

Duck’s about to toss back his usual line he gives to guys who compliment him, then realizes flirting with the Mothman might be weird, or that Indrid may not have meant it as anything more than some clinical, Sylph observation of humans. He tries to distract himself by swimming, but his tail still won’t do what he wants much of the time.

“You’ll have greater success on your back.” Indrid says without looking up.

He’s right, and Duck manages to swim without difficulty, tail shimmering in the sunset. The one time he glances at his friend, Indrid is staring at swaying and rippling in the water.

When the Sylph finally calls that he’s done, Duck speeds to the rock, let’s Indrid pin the charm to the collar of his undershirt that he keeps wearing because he’s still a human, dammit, just one with an inconvenient tail and he’s not gonna start skinny-dipping in a national forest. Again.

Duck flails when legs replace his tail, Indrid’s hand grabbing his a moment before he needs it to and helping him onto dry land.

“Satisfactory?”

“It’s fuckin perfect!”

“Wonderful!” Indrid claps his hands together, “what would you like to do? I may need to escort you for the first day, to be certain there’s no flaw in the charm.”

Duck studies the pink light tracing the angles of Indrid’s face, “Wanna meet my cat? She looks like a bobcat that lost a bar fight, but she’s sweet as can be.”

Indrid’s grin turns genuine for the first time all day, “I would like nothing better.”

The mothman becomes a staple of his life after that. With the charm, he’s able to help the Pine Guard track and slay the abomination, go to work, look after his house, and generally convince anyone not in the know that he’s totally fine. But he has to return to the lake every day, spends his mornings and nights there, even his lunch breaks when he knows he needs to give the charm a break then. It’s far enough away that he’s in no danger of being seen by civilians, but at least once Indrid had to fly him to it before they ran out of time (and Aubrey had to teleport them there, which made him nauseous).

Indrid keeps him company, sometimes with the others and sometimes on his own. He finds waterproof cards and games, listens to Duck talk about work and tells him about his travels. At first he worries Indrid is only doing it out of guilt, but as the weeks go by he comes to see that Indrid likes him. He laughs at his jokes, gives him as close to his full attention as he can, even scratches his scales with his mothed-out claws when they start driving Duck crazy with itchiness.

His friend always goes home to sleep, which is why, as Duck is drifting on his back, half snoozing and half star-gazing, the red eyes high in a tree come as a surprise. He’s on the other end of the lake, doesn’t seem to see Duck as he spreads his wings and flaps into the air. Then he nosedives, pulling up before he hits the water and then skimming across it in broad strokes. He shoots upward, spins, and then repeats the routine.

Duck’s seen him fly during fights and to escape the Cottonwood. Never like this, never so free and graceful. It’s such a joyful sight, makes Duck wish he had wings of his own so he could join him, dance across the stars and their reflections.

He swims towards Indrid, begins mirroring him on a whim, twisting, diving, and leaping as best he can in time with the cryptids flight. Pushes his tail to carry him faster, farther, all for the sake of keeping pace with the beautiful monster in the sky.

Surfacing after a particularly giant splash, a voice lilts down from the sky.

“Race you to the other side.”

Duck loses, but only just, cackles when Indrid buzzes him so closely he can feel the tickle of his feathers. When the mothman finally lands Duck swims to him, scooting up on land so he can watch Indrid fluff and clean his feathers.

“I come to this lake to practice flying without fear of being seen. I assumed you were asleep but, ah” his antenna twitch, “I’m glad you weren’t.”

Duck stretches, moans happily when Indrid gently glides his claws up his tail, “Me too.”

“Same time tomorrow night?” Soft hope flutters between them.

“Yeah.” He grins up at the cryptid, “bring your A-game, I’m gonna carb load tomorrow mornin so I can kick your butt.”

“I look forward to it.”

----------------------------------------------------

It’s been a month and a half since he transformed, which puts them smack in summer thunderstorm season. Duck’s used to it, though he’s more than a little nervous about what will happen if lightning hits the lake. Luckily, tonight it’s just soft summer rain instead of electricity and drops the size of robin eggs.

Indrid isn’t faring as well. The rain droops his antenna, compresses his fluff until Duck can see he’s still a twig under all those feathers. He shivers, chirrs in discomfort and shakes off his wings, but stays put on his favorite rock.

“There a reason you ain’t just turnin human? Could put on a raincoat that way.”

“I” Indrid sneezes, “I want you to feel comfortable. It can be so unpleasant, feeling like the only non-human in a place.”

Duck swims to the rock, flicking his tail up and down as he float, “You’re always changin form to make me comfortable.”

“Yes. Because I want you to not be unnerved by me.”

“But what about what you want?”

A feathery shrug, “That doesn’t matter.”

“Drid-”

Red eyes glare at him, “I am well aware of how I look, Duck. What people think of me. Would you have spent even a fraction of the time you have with me if your transformation had not forced it?”

“Y-fu-uh-I mean not no?” He sinks into the water as resignation becomes visible on Indrid’s inhuman features.

“I’m glad for our friendship, Duck. And I don’t doubt that you’re fond of me now. But please don’t pretend I was your first choice for company.”

“I mean...you weren’t. But that’s because we barely knew each other, hell, you only got back to town three months ago.” Duck takes the hand nearest him, “if this happened to me now? You might be the first person I’d want lookin out for me.”

Indrid chirrs, dips his head down to rub his cheek against Duck’s hand. Suddenly he wants nothing as badly as he wants to get Indrid warm and dry so he can run his fingers through every inch of those feathers.

“May I turn human?’

“Of course. Means you can come swimmin with me.”

Indrid, now in a tank top and yoga pants, cocks his head, “Why?”

“It’ll be fun?”

“My kind are not the strongest of swimmers.”

“Good thing I got a tail and gills, then. Besides, you’ll stop feelin as sticky from the humidity if you’re in the water.”

Indrid pulls off his shirt and pants, revealing duck-patterned boxers, and cautiously wades into the lake.

“Ooohhhh, that is so much better” his sighs, too blissed-out to notice the sudden drop, and only just manages to grab his glasses before going under. Duck zips forward, hoisting him easily into an embrace as he splutters.

“Blechhh, I despise the taste of lake water.” He clings to Duck, skinny legs teasingly tense around his tail.

Duck rubs his tail up and down his inner legs soothingly, “you, uh, want somethin to get rid of the taste?”

“Please.” Indrid smirks, clearly expecting a goof. When Duck tips his glasses up his forehead, he goes stone still.

“Can I kiss you?”

“This was not in any of the timelines.”

“Just came to me now. And that ain’t an answer.”

Indrid nods, tips his face forward to bring their lips together. Duck sighs, floats lazily backwards as Indrid slips his tongue between his lips. When they part, there are more stars in his eyes than in the whole milky way.

“Do you want some good news?” Indrid nuzzles his neck with an adorable trill.

“Lay it on me.”

“The futures just shifted; Aubrey and Janelle will have a cure for your condition tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah.” Duck flips them upright, Indrid “eeping” and holding tighter, “can’t wait to stop worryin’ about whether I’m gonna start suffocatin on land. And, uh” he nips Indrid’s lower lip, forgetting about his sharpened teeth until the Sylph lets out a little moan, “if you ain’t busy tomorrow night, like to take you on a date.”

Indrid beams, “I’d like that so very much. Though I will admit, I’m going to miss how this looks on you.” He squeezes his thighs around Duck’s tail.

“You can always whip me up one if we wanna, uh, relive the fun parts of this experience.”

“True. And with that in mind, my sweet; how do you feel about wings?”

[snelbz]

The Ranch {5}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

The air was thick in the kitchen as Nesta stirred the sauce she was simmering in the skillet on the stove top. It was her secret recipe, one that won her the hearts of many overseas.

Feyre was seated at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of wine, staring daggers into Nesta’s back.

Nesta could feel her sister’s stare and she didn’t want to turn around to meet it.

Elain was supposed to be there.

She was running late.

“So,” Nesta began, clearing her throat. “I’m glad you came.”

Feyre said nothing.

Nesta stared into the skillet. “I plan to have a reopening for the B&B. Hopefully near the end of the summer. I was hoping you and Lainy could help.”

Still nothing.

Nesta’s jaw clenched as she dumped a stack of noodles into a pot on the back burner before turning over the breaded chicken on a separate burner. 

She could keep trying, but she would only be wasting her breath. Feyre and her hadn’t talked for years, Nesta knew it would be rough. But, she couldn’t live in Velaris without trying to reconnect with the only family she had left, which was why she had invited her sisters over for dinner.

If only Elain would hurry the fuck up.

Nesta reached for her own glass of wine and took a full swallow, turning and staring out the window.

She’d taken to cooking in the main house with its gorgeous up-to-date kitchen. It was the best way for her to still have a little piece of her old life. But the only problem with that meant that she couldn’t get away from him.

And as she gazed out over the pastures, the sun setting on the other side of the farm, she caught sight of his tanned, inked, muscular back as he led his horse back down towards the stables.

He’d shown up at the main house the day after their conversation, asking to talk to her. He had been almost bashful and seemed apologetic, but she’d barely slept the night before.

The last thing he’d said before he’d walked out kept repeating in her mind.

And to think I thought your own sister was wrong about you.

Nesta sighed, not meaning for it to be quite as dramatic as it was, and took another drink of her wine.

“So what made you decide not to fuck him?”

Nesta stilled, wine glass still lingering in front of her open lips. She cleared her throat, “What?”

“Cassian’s more open with Rhys and Az than you are with your own sisters,” Feyre said, hostility lacing her tone. “And, contrary to popular belief, he’s not the best at keeping his feelings hidden.”

Nesta slowly turned to face her youngest sister. She was sitting at the table, golden-brown hair high in a pony-tail. Her arms were crossed, her chin raised high, those gray-blue eyes that mirrored her own full of distaste. 

“That’s none of your business,” Nesta replied, shortly.

Feyre scoffed, shaking her head. “You wanted me to come over so we could start over. Well, I’m here, and I’m asking questions. You’re not off to a very good start in mending our relationship.”

Nesta wanted so badly to tell Feyre to fuck off, to get out, but she knew it was just the sudden rise in emotion talking. As her body filled with discomfort, Nesta turned back to the stove, nodding slowly. 

She continued to stir her homemade sauce as it simmered.

“It wasn’t right,” Nesta said, simply, words clipped. “I was drunk and got carried away.”

Feyre snorted. “Blame it on the alcohol-.”

“I was as drunk as I was because my sister slapped me in front of a fucking bar full of people,” Nesta snapped.

Feyre kept silent, and Nesta didn’t dare look back over her shoulder. It was true - true enough, anyway. Nesta had deserved to get slapped, no matter what she had told herself up until that point. But, it didn’t erase the fact that it left her embarrassed in a room full of people and shamed among her own family and friends - if they could even be considered friends, which, Nesta was pretty sure they couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” Feyre said, at last, “but, I’m not going to apologize for being pissed.”

Nesta nodded, curtly, staring into the skillet.

A minute passed before Feyre asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

This time, Nesta did look over her shoulder, brow raised.

With tight lips, Feyre shrugged. “I’m trying too.”

After a deep breath, Nesta decided that she should take the opportunity while it presented itself. If she didn’t, the opportunity might not come again. 

“He intrigued me,” Nesta began.

Feyre snorted. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”  

Shaking her head, Nesta leaned back against the counter top. “It wasn’t just the alcohol. Maybe some of it, but he did….I was intrigued. He’s handsome, obviously, and he was being kind. And we were alone, and I haven’t been alone with a handsome man in a long time, Feyre. But, then it all started, and I… Everything came back to me.” Her voice had become hushed, and she was staring at her crossed arms, at her index finger drawing circles around a freckle on her elbow. “The last time I was with a man was in college, and everyone knows how that turned out - including, apparently, Cassian, judging by the self loathing in his eyes when he tried to come in here to talk to me this afternoon.”

To Nesta’s surprise, some of the tension faded from Feyre’s shoulders and her eyes softened. “Cassian is a good guy, Nesta.”

“I’m his boss,” Nesta said. “Nothing good ever comes from that.” 

“He does this work so he can keep his house and do something he loves,” Feyre began, cocking her head to the side as she watched her sister. Nesta felt bare and vulnerable beneath that gaze. “He makes the money he lives off of elsewhere. You’re hardly his boss.”

Nesta disagreed, but she kept the comment to herself. Instead, she asked, “What does he do?”

Feyre hesitated. “That’s not my information to give out.” There wasn’t any rudeness to her voice, just fact.

Nesta tried to keep the frustration from her tone, but the small laugh that left her sounded bitter even to her own ears. “Yeah, all I keep getting told is that it isn’t illegal, and with all the secrecy, I’m starting to wonder.”

Feyre sighed. “Does he seem like the type to sell drugs, Nes?”

Nes.

Hearing the familiar nickname from her baby sister’s lips melted whatever ice had hardened between them at the change in subject and Nesta turned, sitting down in the barstool next to Feyre.

“We should...talk,” Nesta said, carefully.

Feyre, eyes wary, took another drink of her wine. Nesta could practically see the shields raising again. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“I know, we are, but I just-.” Nesta sighed. “We need to talk about me leaving.” Feyre clearly wasn’t expecting her to bring it up so directly, because she physically flinched. Nesta pressed on. “We need to talk about why I left, and how you felt, and what exactly happened. It’s been almost ten years. We’re big girls now, and I-.” Nesta hesitated again. “I want my baby sister back…”

Feyre’s eyes, the twin to Nesta’s own, softened and she opened her mouth to reply, but the back door burst open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Elain said, eyes darting between them both, a look of sheer panic on her face.

Feyre looked at Elain, at their sweet sister who was so concerned with their relationship, who just wanted to see her sisters back to normal, and turned back to Nesta. A soft smile graced her lips. “Let’s get coffee one day this week.”

Nesta nodded, a breath leaving her body as she said, “Okay.”

“What did I miss?” Elain asked, pulling out the stool next to Feyre’s.

“Everything,” Feyre assured her.

Elain frowned as she sat. “Even the Cassian thing?” she whispered, even though she was fully aware that Nesta was sitting right there and could hear perfectly clearly.

Feyre grinned as Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I’m not repeating any of it.”

Nesta pushed herself out of the chair and went back to the stovetop. Behind her, Feyre said, “We’ll blame Azriel, I assume it’s his fault you’re late.”

Elain’s cheeks had reddened when Nesta turned back around. “He came home on his break. He works late tonight.”

“Thought you both had the day off?” Nesta asked, reaching up into the cupboard for a mix of seasonings and spices.

Elain sighed. “Low man on the totem pole once more. They had two mechanics call out, so they needed him to come in and cover.” Feyre poured her a glass of wine and she nodded her thanks before taking a healthy sip. “On the plus side, it’s all overtime. So, we’ll take it.”

“Was Az hammered when he got home last night?” Feyre asked.

Elain snorted. “No, but he smelled like a frat house.”

“Rhys did, too!” Feyre laughed. “I made him shower before he could get back in bed.”

The two girls giggled and Nesta couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. At the familiarity, at the ease of conversation, not just about their relationships, but with each other.

All at once, Nesta was hit with just everything she’d missed.

She felt guilty, as she had a thousand times before, but it was different now, being with them as they chatted about their lives. Meanwhile, Nesta didn’t know Rhysand or Azriel, didn’t know anything about either of her sisters' relationships - just that they were in relationships with good men.

She cleared her throat and turned. She smiled and said, “Dinner is ready. Help yourselves and I hope you enjoy.” Both Feyre and Elain looked at her with their brows raised. “What?” She asked.

Elain said, “That was so…”

“Formal,” Feyre finished for her.

Nesta chuckled. “I’ve been cooking for prime ministers and dukes and millionaire CEOs. It’s a habit.”

Nesta felt a little lighter as her sisters grabbed a plate and filled them high. Once she had her own, Nesta sat with them at the table and asked, “So, tell me about Rhys. He proposed? How?”

“In our backyard,” Feyre said, chuckling as she swallowed a mouthful of pasta. “Holy shit, this is delicious.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said, grinning, “Now continue.”

“Right,” Feyre began, setting down her fork and clapping her hands together. “In our backyard, which may not seem very romantic, but I definitely sobbed. I got home from work and I could hear him playing in the backyard, he’s a musician. Well, in his free time, anyway. So, I follow the music to the backyard and he has the porch lit up with string lights. He was already down on one knee, playing his guitar, then he started singing. I was crying before the song was even finished, and it was a full on ugly cry by the time he asked me to marry him.”

Nesta chewed, slowly, eyebrows raised. “That’s incredibly romantic.”

Elain just rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “That’s the story we all hear, anyway, but we’ve known Rhys for a long time….”

Feyre laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Azriel swears it’s all made up,” Elain said, piling her fork high with noodles. “He swears Rhys doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.” 

“Either way,” Feyre went on, “it happened and Azriel and Cassian have given him shit since. They also beg to hear the song he wrote that he sang when he proposed, but that would only force them to give him more shit.”

Nesta laughed, quietly. “He sounds great. Rhys.”

“He is,” Feyre said, eyes growing soft as she took another bite.

“And Azriel?” Nesta asked, turning her attention to Elain.

“He’s great.” Elain said, smiling, repeating what Nesta had just said.

“I know he’s great, but tell me about him.” Nesta laughed. “I have ten years of things to catch up on.”

Feyre blinked a few times and said, “You really don’t remember any of them, do you?”

Nesta blushed. “I don’t. I feel awful, but…” She sighed. “You both know how I was in high school. I paid no attention to the people around me unless they were you two-.”

“Or Tomas Mandray?” Feyre cautiously asked.

Nesta’s teeth clacked together as her jaw hardened.

Before she could respond, Elain said, “I think there may be a few yearbooks in my closet. Let me look!”

“Please, don’t-.”

But Elain was already hurrying up the stairs, to her old bedroom, where her stuff was stored in a stack of tubs in the closet. Nesta let out a long breath as Feyre, completely humored, continued to eat her pasta. 

Elain had come back down the stairs a minute later, the yearbook from Nesta’s senior year held tightly against her chest.

“Okay,” she said, sitting back on her stool, plate forgotten for a moment. She flipped through the pages, to where the freshmen were listed, and displayed Feyre’s picture proudly.

Nesta laughed as Feyre groaned. “Bangs were not my thing.”

“I thought they looked cute,” Elain grinned, turning the page. “Ah, and here is Rhys, before he got all bulky and tattooed.” 

Nesta looked at the picture closely and huffed a laugh. “Ten years did him well.”

Feyre didn’t disagree.

Elain flipped through the book and a wide grin spread across her lips as she pointed to Azriel.

“He wears glasses?” Nesta asked.

“Contacts,” Elain said, nodding. “He doesn’t like his glasses.”

“I think they’re cute,” Feyre said, perching her chin on her fist atop the table as they all looked through the book. “Especially on prepubescent Az.” 

Nesta snorted as Elain flipped to the next page. “Ah, here’s Cassian.”

Nesta took a good look at the boy on the page. She could tell it was him, he was definitely familiar, but she didn’t remember him from then. His hair was a lot shorter, not at all close to the shoulder-length it was now. His face was clean, he probably couldn’t even grow facial hair then. But those hazel eyes were still full of mischief, even at seventeen as he stared into the camera. 

She didn’t remember any of them, though.

She had been too busy living in her own little world. 

The back door to the kitchen swung open, and as if he had known she’d been thinking of him, Cassian entered through the doorway.

He paused, hand still on the doorknob, as three sets of eyes shot his direction. Nesta’s heart began to thump wildly against her chest.

His chest, however, was bare, as Nesta assumed was the norm, and glistening with sweat. His hair was shoved back, tied behind his head. 

He blinked, and cleared his throat, “Uh, sorry. I just...was going to grab a bottle of water.”

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” Feyre asked, no doubt, Nesta assumed, trying to break the tension. 

She could hear the cheeky response before he said it, knew it would be something that would rag on her little sister as if she were his own. She’d bet, at this point, she practically was.

Instead of saying anything though, he pulled open the larger of the two fridge doors, and grabbed a couple of cold bottles of water. His eyes fell on the six pack in the door and as he turned, his eyes caught Nesta’s.

She couldn’t describe the emotions she saw roiling inside. Regret. Shame. Sadness. Anger. Frustration. Longing.

He looked like he wanted to say something, looked like he was going to ask her to talk. Nesta opened her mouth, to ask to do just that when he turned and said, “I’ll start on the stables tomorrow,” and left the kitchen without another word.

“So…” Elain said, sliding the yearbook to the middle of the kitchen table. “You want to tell me what’s going on between you two?”

Nesta stood, taking her still near full plate and scraping the contents into the trash, walking to the sink as she said, “Nothing. There’s nothing going on between us. He’s a ranch hand and I own the ranch.”

She didn’t turn as she turned on the water and began rinsing the plate.

There was a pause. “Doesn’t mean you two can’t be on friendly terms, right? I mean...that was…”

Elain’s words faded away, but then Feyre supplied, “Awkward as shit.” 

“Yeah…” Elain muttered.

“That’s not necessary,” Nesta said, opening the dishwasher and putting the plate inside. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t feel the need to discuss what happened that night, or the day before when she blew up at him in the kitchen.

Which, she shouldn’t have. She threatened to take away a job he loved, the home he lived in, and that wasn’t fair, no matter how pissed and mortified she was. 

“So, you’re just going to go along working together, and every time you’re in the same room, that’s going to happen?” Feyre asked. 

Nesta sighed, her face falling into her hands, her elbows leaning on the counter. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

Elain had hopped off her stool and was walking up behind her big sister. “Cassian’s a reasonable guy, Nesta. He obviously feels just as awkward about it all as you do. You should talk to him.”

She would rather stab herself in the eye.

Although, if she did that, she couldn’t see him riding through the pastures without a shirt on, and that would be a damned shame. 

“I don’t know,” Nesta sighed, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms. “We both said some pretty bad stuff. I mean, sure, I want a civil relationship, especially if he’s going to work for me. Sure, I wish I could take some of the things I said back. Sure, I-.” Sure, I’d love to see if the rest of him is as delicious bare as his chest is.

The final thought slammed through her, and she cleared her throat before she could voice it out loud. “The point is, not only did I say some stuff out of line, but so did he and-.”

“And he came and apologized.” Feyre said, looking at her as she refilled her wine glass. “Can you say the same?”

Yes, she should apologize, but she really, really didn’t want to. “Apologizing has never been a strength of mine,” she muttered.

Neither sister said a word.

Nesta groaned, again. “I don’t know-.”

“Bring him a beer,” Feyre suggested, taking a sip from her wine glass. “Beer is his love language. Oh, or whiskey. Yeah. Do that if you’ve got it. A nice bottle of whiskey goes a long way with that one. But do that later, you’ve got the beer now.”

“I can’t-.”

“Come,” Elain said, pulling on Nesta’s hand, dragging her toward the backdoor.

“I can’t!” she yelled, trying to pull her hand away.

Elain rolled her eyes, but now Feyre was standing in front of the backdoor, arms crossed.

“Cassian is one of our closest friends, we can’t have the two of you bringing that shit into our circle,” Feyre grinned. “Lainy, fix her boobs.”

“My wh- Elain!” Nesta cried, as Elain fixed her bra so that her breasts were pushed up, peeking out from her tank top.

“What?” Feyre blinked. “Beer and boobs. Two things you’ll have that Cassian can’t stay mad at.”

“I’m not going out there,” Nesta protested.

“Yes, you are,” Elain went on, hands on her hips. “And you’re going to apologize, because you want to, and because you should. And, because we want you back in our lives, Nesta...and Cassian is a big part of our lives. He’s a good man. Things need to be set straight, and made right.”

Feyre held up a can of beer from the fridge, where she was slowly walking back from. “The beer of peace.”

Nesta decided that Feyre was a little tipsy if she was being this nice, no matter how much progress they had made that evening. Either that, or she knew Nesta apologizing would be a disaster and she wanted to watch the show. 

“This is a conversation the two of us need to have by ourselves, I’ll stop by his cabin later-.”

“No, I don’t trust that one bit,” Elain said. “I won’t believe it if I’m not here to witness.”

“I’m the oldest,” Nesta snapped. “I don’t need you two treating me like a fucking child!”

Feyre just grinned wider as Elain looked at her older sister with big, pleading eyes. 

“Fine,” Nesta said, the word clipped. “But if I make things worse, I’m coming in here to kick both of your asses.” 

“Oh, we’ll be waiting,” Feyre assured her, although Nesta didn’t feel reassurance, whatsoever.

She snatched the beer out of Feyre’s hand, half tempted to shake up the can as she walked out towards the round pen he'd headed for when left. As she approached the half open gate, she glanced down at her chest, and toward the vast expanse of skin, ink and back muscles in front of her as Cassian brushed down one of the horses.

She set the can down on top of one of the fence posts, and listening to Elain and Fayre’s advice, adjusted her bra, lifting her breasts until they were damn near falling out of her top.

She wanted to fix them, to stuff them back down into her tank top, put on a hoodie, go back to the house and crawl in her bed. But even without turning around, she knew that both of her nosy, couldn’t stay in their own business sisters were currently staring out the window at her. And Cassian had noticed her and was heading this way.

Nesta picked up the beer and cleared her throat, stepping through the gate and into the pen.

His boots kicked up the dirt of the pen as he walked towards her, stopping just a few feet away, and Nesta did her best not to watch the bead of sweat that ran between his pecs and towards his abdomen.

She held out the beer. “This is for you.”

Cassian blinked. “Is it cold?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?”

He huffed a laugh, although it didn’t meet his eyes. He walked closer to her, then, and took the can from her outstretched hand, just as Nesta leaned into the railing.

As he popped the can open, his eyes had stopped on her overly-exposed breasts. They lingered, for a second too long, before he brought the can to his lips. 

“Thanks,” he said, after a minute.

He turned to walk away but Nesta blurted, “Do you need a hand?”

Cassian froze, one thick eyebrow raised. He slowly looked down at her feet. “You’re barefoot.”

She hadn’t had a second to put on her shoes before her sisters pushed her out the door.

Nesta shrugged. “Daisy’s calm enough.” She looked at the nearly all-white mare that Cassian was brushing. “I’ll be careful not to step in shit.”

Cassian chugged the rest of the can and set it back on the post before saying, “Why are you out here, Nesta? Have I done something else to make you disapprove of me?”

She rolled her eyes, frustration filling her. “I don’t even know why I came out here.” She turned to go back into the house.

“So you run?” Cassian asked, the volume of his voice raising slightly. “When something happens that you don’t like or you can’t control, you run.” Nesta paused where she’d been taking a step to go back to the house. The window where there’d been two nosy heads moments earlier was blessedly empty now. “Apparently you’re real good at it. This is the first time I’ve gotten to see it, you know, since you snuck out while my back was turned last time. But it seems to be your go to.”

Nesta had turned back to him, not speaking, just letting him get whatever this was off of his chest.

“What are you going to do when you decide you want to run from the ranch again, Nesta? Huh? Cause you’re coming out here, offering your help, tits out, no shoes, but I don’t even think you know the first thing about this place. What are you going to do when you have to help me bury a still born calf at four in the morning? What about when we have another year where we have to burn the entire field of crops?”

He grabbed the beer can and threw it across the pen. It bounced off the wooden fence with a ping!

“I’ve run this ranch on my own for the past four years. If you’re going to up and run out on me one day, I need you to go ahead and tell me now so I can decide whether or not this is the future for me.”

Nesta hesitated for a moment, unaware he was going to blow up on her like that. Although, she shouldn’t have been surprised. And she shouldn’t blame him. “And if I’m not?” 

Now it was Cassian’s turn to hesitate. “If you’re not what?”

“Going to leave,” she said, simply, chin raised. “Because I’m not leaving. My dad… Well, he left me this place and I intend to do my best to ensure that his legacy lives on. So, no, you giant ass, I’m not leaving. And, you’re right, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never been iinterested in ranching, and now that I own this shithole, I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?”

Cassian was watching her, perfectly still, as the the words poured out of her.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she continued, shaking her head, but she wasn’t looking at Cassian, not anymore. “I have no idea what I’m fucking doing!”

She knitted her fingers into her hair and leaned forward, groaning as she did. “I’m in so far above my head that it’s not even funny.”

Cassian stood there, watching as this woman who’d done nothing but plague his thoughts, day and night, proceeded to break down inside the round pen.

He didn’t know what to do. Whether he should leave her be or step forward and comfort her.

This strong, beautiful woman, who was more frustrating than any horse he’d tried to break and more confusing than them either.

He took a tentative step forward. “Look, we-,” he paused and scratched at the back of his neck. “Nesta, we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s- Can we start over? We’ll forget my stupidity and the other night and the times where you were a bit of a bitch…”

He looked at her to gauge her reaction to his joke. When her head snapped up and he saw a spark in those stormy eyes, he knew he’d struck home.

“When I was a bit of a bitch?” She laughed. “What about when you were a complete and utter dick?”

“I was going to leave that part out of my argument,” he murmured, but he was grinning, because the second she laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “You’re right. I was a dick, and I’m sorry.”

“I am, too,” she said, quietly, a small smile lingering on her mouth. “What I said out of anger and embarrassment….well, I said a lot that I shouldn’t have, and didn’t mean. I know you love this job, Cassian, and you’ve made a home here. I wouldn’t take that away from you. You know, unless you really piss me off.”

Cassian laughed, quietly, looking down at his boots. “Fair enough.” 

Nesta nodded, slowly, then looked back over her shoulder, where Elain and Feyre were once again watching through the kitchen window. She scowled.

Cassian noticed, too, once he looked back up, because he shook his head and laughed. “Alright, city girl,” he began, handing her a brush. “You wanna help? If your sisters are watching, at least give them a show.” 

She grabbed the brush from his outstretched hand and took a step toward Daisy, but Cassian was laughing, quietly, as he watched.

She froze. “What?”

Cassian just shook his head. “We’re going to have to get you some boots.”

[0aurelion-sol0]

SNK 134: Why we need to move forward.

Well...

That's horrifying...

Oh but whatever they are probably bad people in there. Thieves, greedy people, hateful mothers, men who beat their wives , liars, bullies, killers, murderers, rapist, child rapist and racist babies.

Yeah...

This is a rhetoric that has been used for ages and is currently being used in this fandom especially on reddit and 4chan.

The justification of injustice.

When George Floyd was slammed on the ground and died because he couldn't breathe anymore, conservatives and republicans at large ignored the police brutaliy leading up to that.

He was just a cocaine or drug addict who one day pointed a gun at a pregnant lady. So he was a criminal and deserved that.

Of course ignoring the racial segregation that happened from the very legalized slavery hundreds of years ago and how poor and racially stigmatized black people are being in America right now.

When the Uyghurs are being genocided by China, the world blinds itself because China is one the worlds necessary assets in economy as it basically produces a good chunk of what is being used in the world. Most made by children, " but it makes us live "... Apparently that's the only logical reason...

When Palestinians and Israelis are literally killing each other over some complicated non sense that no one ever really understands and also Israël basically doing Apartheid at this point,

When the totality of the Middle East has turned into a warzone because of the United States's violent imperialism,

When most far right or extremist group decided that Islam and Islamic terrorism are the same thing,

When xenophobes and racist always attack immigration,

"If she wasn't wearing that skirt, she probably wouldn't have been raped",

When we have homophobes, transphobes, LGBTphobes, telling us what's natural and always bragging about "\___-_-___/ God, Holy Jesus",

When you have people who tells you that poor people chose their way of living when there are a small percent of billionaires and soon to be trillionaires having such a gigantic amount of wealth,

When 6 millions Jews were genocided which was 40% of Jewish people at the time and 2/3 of European Jews,

When the prime minister of Israël is saying that the Holocaust wasn't Hitler's Idea but Haj Amin al-Husseini, (who was extremely anti semitic, don't get me wrong)who suggested it to him maiking the prime minister a revisionist but at the same time making his actions against Palestinians justified,

When around the world Christianic places of worship are being vandalized,

When entire SYSTEMS of segregations have made societies work,

When the South American continent has been attacked by the United States because of different political beliefs,

When people use their rape as a way to attack other communities of a specific religion or color,

When Black Panthers uses racism against White people because of the story of USA and are being anti semitic but essentializing a whole group,

When Nationalistic Israelis tells you what is a good Jew and what isn't a good Jew,

When dozens of groups have been forced to extinction,

Natives who were being murdered, yeah? YOU DON'T SEE THAT A LOT IN YOUR COWBOY MOVIES ?

When literal "feminist" calls for the destruction of men while they can't educate the kids about what to do and what not to do, OH, can also be transphobic apparently,

When you have entire websites who encourages pedophilia,

And pedophiles killed, left alone and live a life of endless torment while no one does nothing to help them and fight those who encourages it even in the highest places of our society,

Oh and Hollywood, that's all I need to say.

And let's not even talk about animal brutality and the destruction of ecosystems.

And there is more and more and more and more and more and FUCKING MORE,

All that because of reasons, reasons, reasons, reasons,

All stuck in a cycle of hate, violence and discrimination that just never ends.

The selfishness,

The greed,

And at end, everything is meaningless. There is just blood.

This is what this chapter represent the meaningless of it all. How everything goes to shit...

How everyone, whether it's the oppresor or the oppresed, will justify the violence, the injustice.

Society does nothing cause society right now runs for the entitled and the entitled only and creates it's own monsters.

I want to ask those people who defend the rumbling.

After everything we saw in this manga, after what the real world has commited, after how much these real events have inspired this story, how can you say it was the only way ?

After everyone hided Hange valuable informations including Eren who had information about KRUGER who was a spy in MARLEY. Who has created a civil war in Eldia and activated the rumbling while killing Eldian civilians in the way.

After seeing the mental breakdown of Bertolt, who we don't hear about anymore, Annie and Reiner's mental breakdown over GENOCIDING AN ENTIRE GROUP OF PEOPLE, by the way Reiner totally didn't develop another persona at that time to cope with what he was doing, HUH ?

After all the deaths, Carla, Grisha, Dina, Faye Marco, Levi's squad, Ymir, Erwin, Sasha, Hange, Hannes, Floch and many others, how can you go and be like "CHAD EREN, BEING DADDY, FUCKING HIS MEAT WAIFU, PHILOSOPHER FREEDOM SEEKER"

"104th crybabies... xDdDDDD Prfrpfr"

Come on...

This isn't serious at this point.

And for the H character, we're gonna come back for her but...

GODDAMNIT!

THANK YOU, DEATH.

This has sparked debates.

Some are thankful for this speech by the commander.

Others are finding it disingenous.

Others think it's too on the nose and not natural.

Others don't care.

On my part, I enjoy it but I take it with the context. Most of their airships have been destroyed and they are facing their doom upfront right now. It's more of a death plea at this point. Just like in the cave with Histor... GOD IT'S SO HARD SAYING HER NAME... with Historia who said truly horrible things at the point of an imminent death. At that moment, words like this can tell what you really are inside but even that is not enough to have a full picture.

It did have some interesting elements.

It is true, using, raising, breeding hate and shoving problems upon a group will always come bite you up the ass someday.

Marley in their extensive and violent coloniaslistic, imperialiatic behavior towards Eldia creates only weaknesses for them on an international field and create this monstruosity that is right now Eren.

Eren, a soldier who suffer from trauma and PTSD, who has terrible insecurities and everything to lose after losing so much and possibly in my book being influenced by another entity decides to kill them all.

But...

In no way does that justify Eren's actions, in fact it goes against it.

He is just as angry and hateful as they were back then but instead of destroying the system, he decides to genocide.

Essentializing the whole world as your ennemy and problem, and deciding to get rid of it is just continuing what has been started and continued for hundreds of years before.

No one ever thinks about the simple families, the innocent children, the homeless...

What about them Eren ?

What about the people who faced discrimination like Ramzi ?

What about the other groups that are almost extinct just like yours ?

What about the groups that tried to support the Eldians but were considered freaks ? HUH ?

What about the babies and innocent children ?

Isayama is even spelling it out for you this chapter.

Is he not worth it ? To stop all this ?

He was born into this world just like every other baby.

Look at that while everyone, is trying to jump off, their trying to save the baby. Even if it's probably impossible. That's humanity right there.

And... jesus christ...

I literally saw people who said that the mother was dumb to give it to the people because titans were behind them.

I can't even...

Imagine if Eren is the daddy of H's Baby and that he completes the genocide, killing his friends or even persuading them and at the end he is saying you are free to this baby.

So this baby is worth more than this baby ?

He is more legitimate to live than him.

I can't even imagine what the arguments would be like with the Eren stans:

"He's protecting his friends."

While literally challenging them to fight and right now trying to kill them.

"Well, you know the Rumbling is horrible but they got what was coming for them. They did nothing to help Paradise."

While forgetting the complexity of human nature, how banalization of these acts of violence have come to be BECAUSE...

These just like me and you are just simple people. With simple lives and not too much power who can't do anything about it.

Most of the people today sees all the suffering in the world, they just don't have the power, nor the will to go against such complex geo-political conflicts.

Would you be able to just resolve the Israelo-Palestinian conflict ? I don't think so, so shut your ass down with this argument.

These people can't change the world with power that they have and the one that has the power to change that, is killing them right now. BRAVO.

" Well, uh, the child is a child, parents might be racist and uh... child maybe is racist or will become racist..."

God...

Just because someone has done horrible shits or is an horrible shit doesn't mean he should die like this.

Here it is people, how we work as human :

Fuck redemption and possible solutions, let's kill everyone who did something bad.

Y'all would have been perfect during monarchies time.

And like... having an argument on a baby should face genocide is just fucking disgusting.

AND DON'T GIVE ME THE BULLCRAP OF FICTION DOESN'T EQUAL REALITY!

That you are interested into what could bring the Rumbling in terms of thematics and story is fine.

BUT ENDORSING IT ?

Do y'all even hear yourselves sometimes ?

You just sound like every racist, bigoted, fascist and violent person that has ever existed.

You're just excited to see someone die because he commited something wrong, sadistic pricks.

You're no different. Perhaps the guy who was talking to Grisha in chapter 97, who was a Marleyan and gave serums to Eldian is right. When he was talking to Grisha, Isayama use it to break the fourth wall and talk to the readers.

Why do we watch this, all this violence ?

" Because it's fun!"

" People take peace for granted!"

" Of course we're abnormal in society's eyes."

" We wish to exterminate all eldians!"

" Your sister did nothing wrong. Shame she was an Eldian!"

The fun fact is that this guy is a racist fuck but he dies pushed by Kruger and killed by his very own creation: a titan.

Why do people endorse genocide ?

" Because it's justice!"

" They got what was coming for them!"

" Isayama is just showing us that genocide is not really wrong if you just understand the concept of morals. Puritans."

" Humanity can die, they deserve it!"

" I'm sad for Ramzi, he didn't do nothing wrong but you know... maybe he didn't have good ideas about Eldians."

While also saying why children could deserve genocide. \____@-@____/

Of course I found most of these on Reddit and 4chan, the nazi propaganda website. Tumblr is a little free of it.

Babies....

Literally babies...

That remind me of somethin'...

OH YEAH!

QUEER NO MORE.

*put gloves on*

PUUUUUUUSSHH!!! COOOOOOOMMEEE OOONN!!!!

Breathe...

I SEEEEE THE HEAAADDD, IT'S HEREEEEEE!!!!

Natalie, bring the bucket, quick!

Of fuck she shitted on herself a little bit!

_________________________________________

So ?

Y'all like my fanfic ?

It's about how Erehisu is canon and how Historia is actually thinking about Eren right now because she is blushing.

But also about how Historia actually looks good and sexy while being pregnant and how she looks so happy!

She also is a lesbian that turned straight.

I'm so proud of my work.

_________________________________________

In all honesty...

This is... dissapointing and an insult to Historia fans. Why ? What is the purpose or the reason ? Being tragic ? To show how far Historia can go to protect her loved ones ? A female Eren so ?

I always leaned towards the fake pregnancy even if I don't know how something like that could be really pulled. I didn't understand this choice for his storytelling. The others I understand but this one...

O_o

What the fuck ?

So she really is pregnant ? But nothing leading up to it makes sense.

The character whose thematics still rings too much true for this arc is put in the background and as a breeding farm on top of that.

It even came to a point I started people to stop asking about her.

I had faith in her presence in the final arc. That she would have a role play.

But now ?

/\/\/\

For people who don't understand why this aspect of story is wrong, we have to break it down.

First off, Historia one of the first queer characters with Ymir in SNK. Others are suspected but these two are the few that holds a definitive representation as queer.

Most often in media or in real life, LGBT people have been forced into a situation that requires them to fall under heterosexuals lives. Here Historia is forced to be pregnant, yes in a way she agreed because of her people, but at the same time she didn't really want it.

For queer people, like me, this still rings true. Too much true. People literally forces you to go for your opposite sex everytime, to have a family.

No, stop forcing your view of your own life or desire of life on other people.

The fact that the fandom rationalizes that and says that she is happy and in love with Eren is just so fucking weird.

It either is blind ship following, heteronormativity or not understanding the story.

And I saw people saying she might be bisexual. This doesn't change anything. Also ignoring the fact that she hasn't shown any attraction to men other than women in the story.

If she is bisexual, it doesn't change anything, she is still queer. Not semi-straight AND EVEN IF SHE WAS A WOMAN WHO HAPPENED TO BE STRAIGHT, SHE IS STILL FORCED INTO SOMETHING SHE DID NOT WANT.

Bisexual is not semi-straight, semi-gay.

It's bisexual.

Bisexual, Straight and Homosexuality are not the same thing.

And if she was straight, that doesn't make it acceptable. It's just sick.

Just because you're a straight woman doesn't mean you are going to be more happy or have god like duty to have kids.

I just don't understand it...

A manga who was so progressive with his female characters reduces Historia to this.

Imagine...

Just imagine...

Eren is the father. I would shoot myself in the face. A forced straight relationship at the end for the pleasure of shonen readers and heteronormative readers.

" What if I have baby, Eren ?"

" Only if it is from me. I want him to live and have FREEDOM!"

" It's open bar, honey." *saying this after hearing the guy says he's going to genocide which goes against her own values and actions as queen*

Ew... Just ew...

And even worse she wasn't supposed to give birth right now, she was supposed to give birth in a few months.

She could DIE. SHE IS 19. This is dangerous.

Everyone is like this is normal.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL. *sigh*

This goes against what she is supposed to have as a character development.

The fact that she would be okay for genocide while as a queen she reached out to the most weak and in need is fucking incoherent.

No. This doesn't make sense. Even Eren said that Historia's action as a queen were to help others. How could she be okay sitting at her house ? Telling no one about what Eren was going to do ? And becoming a breeding farm ? What is the logic in that ?

Why make it suspicious than ?

The only thing that was able to make any logical sense to me was that the person we are seeing here isn't Historia.

I know if my theory is right, it's sick, even more sick.

The only times we saw Historia after the timeskip was during flashbacks, the reveal at 107 and possibly at the end of 123.

If this is her at the end of 123, I want to ask you why is she all prepared, why is she all dressed up and why is she wearing the same clothes in 134 that she is wearing 107. Something doesn't add up.

She is young, small-petite, blonde and her belly and face are hidden.

I was only able to go through the theory that this is a fake Historia. Than who it is than ?

Well, I searched for female characters who look like her or who could look like Historia right now. From all the characters that we haven't seen coming coming back and that has interacted with Historia, there is only one.

Rico Brzenska.

For those, who don't remember her : She was a Garrison Member who helped Mikasa and Eren during the Trost Arc and also helped Historia while she was exhausted during the Clash of the Titans Arc.

She hasn't appeared ever since the start of the Return to Shiganshina Arc unlike many of the older characters.

She is the only one I see who could pass as Historia I think.

I know this is still sick. But this is the only way I would be able to make Historia get out of this crappy storyline and play some relevance in the story. And if we look at Rico and Historia in 107, they kinda look the same. They have the heart shaped face, they are both small and they both have this sort of closed eyelids.

One line that just stuck with me of Rico was:

"Hiding/Lying about Eren's rampage in the report wouldn't have benefited humanity. "

This was during Eren's trial before joining the Survey Corps. What was discused was when Eren lost control of himself during the Trost Arc and attacked Mikasa.

The second line that struck was the one where she holds Historia who is exhausted in her arms:

"Wow! Who is this girl, is she okay ?"

I don't know why it just pushed that theory. And I kinda believe it now, because no one can make me believe that there is something satisfying coming out of this. Why would she sacrifice herself for Historia ? Well, I don't really know but Rico was always a little wary of Eren, even after the Trost Arc but yeah ultimately for Rico being able to give her own life for Historia. I don't know about that. But with this manga you never now. It is a very dark and twisted theory but this is the only logical thing I can see right now since no answers have been provided.

Monkey is BACK

Zeke is back and like most of us predicted, Eren dragged him with him. And I'm not gonna lie, the way he was attached to the spine was pretty badass.

He is used as a puppet which reinforces the theory for me that all three of them: Eren, Ymir and Zeke are being used by the Attack Titan.

I cannot understand Eren's illogical behavior especially after seeing the train scene where he says he wants them to live long happy lives and than having him kill his friends.

Ymir the first being free and having eyes to returning to having no eyes just like before and Eren.

And Zeke would have never agreed to the Rumbling. And we can't see his eyes either.

And...

Thank you, 104th for existing.

Because...

After how much shit they have gone through and after how much the fandom, not just the Eren stans, have mocked them. Like the fandom has been the biggest asshole to the the Alliance while they were the ones who were able to survive through the sentence " Genocide is wrong!" that so many people seems to find to be so hard to say.

I will root for them until the bitter end, I don't care. They are the one who are fighting. You can call Cringevengers all you want but I am glad they are winning.

They all suffered like Eren but they didn't prioritize their own and only feelings above everything else and they stood by for the values they fought for since they joined the Survey Corps. Even if I have to admit they have, for most of them, conflicted feelings with what they were doing and have done things like trying to talk to Eren while it's obvious he wasn't going to talk and that in a situation like this I don't think someone would try to stop Eren by just talking.

Levi, and it would be foolish to not recognize it, is being consumed by his promise but he is restraining it and still is able to think about the bigger picture.

There's one thing I really like about this is Armin asking Eren:

"Eren... I'll ask you one last time... "What part of you is free" after we rip you out from there... "

Hehe... yes... what part of you is free ?

To be honest, there's many things I don't want for the ending.

A Lelouch Ending, it was all Eren's plan. Literally wouldn't make sense. No one would be questionning his free will and he wouldn't have these weird shits happening to him.

A Code Geass ending, why would Mikasa have to kill Eren, what does that add to her as a character ? More tragedy ? No she doesn't have the scarf, it's pretty telling what place she's at right now.

Eren being the daddy. NO, JUST NO.

Everyone dies, genocide is the right thing. You know all the worst shit that can happen.

But most of all I want important plot points to be explored and moved over because ever since the timeskip, there has been no important plot points out the way. Eren's behavior, Ackertalk, Bertolttalk, Historia's Condition, Paths stuffs, answers!

Whatever... Trust me Peace is not something I take for granted. Being proud of myself and having a life with the least conflict and problem is something you fight for. Having rights, being recognized as a human.

Never lose that, fight for it. But never with injustice, be smarter and stronger. Cause at the end what unites us is not only what we have in common but what the perspective of what we have not in common can make a bigger picture of what we are as humans. We all are different and have a different story with similarities but in the end, we are human and born into this world. And in that, we must move forward. In the present, because of the past and for the future.

We all wish for the problems to go away but if it's for the solutions to be rigged with injustice, it will not work. No one has acheived with genocide and never will.

It's kinda sad that this long of a post has to say this. Did y'all see that ? Pretty inspiring what I wrote. Oh well you know what ? If they can be bigoted why can't I myself.

Here's a song I wrote:

(Fuck everyone and you.

We hate women

There are only 2 genders, the breeder and the breeded.

Everything is degenerate.

We hate brown, Arab and Muslim people.

Genocide is cool

And Hitler was too.)

I know but you know what, at least if they want a spy for Nazi Germany someday. They'll know not to give it to me because I'd laugh at the stupidity of the people just like you and I are doing with the rest of world cause for all the shits it gives us, it's entertaining.

[nalgenewhore]

A rogue storm had her presumed dead and stranded on the red planet. Left on her own, astronaut Aelin Galathynius has four years to make it to the next drop-site, some two thousand miles. Armed with her smarts and dwindling supplies, Aelin attempts to survive on an inhospitable planet, when the nearest help is only millions of miles away.

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Her question stared at them.

LTN: How’d the crew take it when they found out I was alive?

She typed a new one,

LTN: Are you there? 

Sartaq whispered to Gavriel, “She needs to know now.”

Gavriel swallowed, hard, and ignored the fact that his hands were shaking as he replied.

TNSB: We haven’t told the crew you’re alive.

TNSB: We need them to stay focused on the mission.

It took awhile for her to respond and when she did…

LTN: They don’t know I’m alive?

LTN: What the fuck is wrong with you?

LTN: Are you fucking shitting me right now?

LTN: If you are, fuck you, that shit’s not funny.

Uneasy laughter erupted across the room and Gavriel hastily answered.

TNSB: Aelin, please, watch your language

TNSB: This conversation is being broadcasted worldwide

LTN: Oh worldwide, really?

LTN: Worldwide can suck my fucking dick

LTN: I’m stranded on a fucking planet and my crew thinks I’m dead and you want me to watch my language?

LTN: Get fucked

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Manon walked into Weylan’s office with Asterin, a look of ‘I told you so’ on her face. He held up a finger and pointed to the phone, speaking into it, “Yes, ma’am. Yes, I agree. She’s under a lot of stress… we understand. We’re dealing with it… Thank you, ma’am.”

He hung up and looked at Manon, “I just had to apologize to the gods-damned prime minister of Terrasen for Aelin’s crass language. What is it?”

“Aelin is right. It’s only going to get worse the longer we wait.”

“You’re only bringing this up because Gavriel’s in Perranth and can’t argue against it,” Weylan commented, a determined set to his jaw.

Manon made a sound of disgust, “I shouldn’t have to clear it with Gavriel or anyone else for that matter, not even you. It’s time, Weylan.”

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was in the ship’s gym, raising himself to the bar and lowering himself again, sweat running down his body.

He had his earbuds in and the music stopped, Nesryn’s voice coming through, “Commander?”

Dropping to the floor and landing neatly, he grabbed the hand towel and wiped his face, breathing hard, “Go ahead, Faliq.”

“Data dump is almost complete,” she said, referencing the private emails and other things that the crew had been sent.

“Copy. Coming to you.” He entered the zero-gravity corridor, rendezvousing with Fenrys, “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

The man grinned a giddy grin, “Nehemia had her six-month ultrasound yesterday, she said she’d sent the pictures.”

Lorcan smiled easily, he was happy for the couple. “Tell her congrats for me and also send along my condolences.”

Fenrys furrowed his brow as he pushed himself forward using the rungs alongside the walls, “Why condolences?”

“Because it’s probably just set in that she’s having your child,” he laughed and easily evaded Fenrys’ poor attempt to hit him as the rotating craft synthesized gravity and they slid down to the rec room, where everyone had gathered.

Lorcan paused by Elide, where she was sitting curled on a couch with her personal laptop on her lap, to crouch before her and take her hand in both of his, murmuring words too low for the rest of the crew to hear.

Nesryn addressed everyone, “Dump is complete and sending out personals right… now. I don’t need to see Fen’s weird pregnancy fetish shit; I’m scarred for life after the incident.” The incident in question was when Nesryn had accidentally mixed up an email and had opened his and Nehemia’s rather… heated conversation. Rowan huffed a laugh at the memory and everyone shared a look; this was the happiest they’d seen him in the three months since they’d aborted the mission without Aelin.

Fenrys groaned, “I told you, second trimester hormones are a bitch.”

“Whatever does it for you, just keep me out of it,” she said, laughter in her dark eyes, “Oh, huh. There’s a video message from Manon, addressed to the whole crew.”

Everyone made their way over to the computer, crowding around as Nesryn clicked on the video.

Manon’s face appeared on the screen and the video began to play, her voice coming through the speakers, “Lani, this is Manon Blackbeak. I have some news to share, there’s no easy way to put this: Aelin Galathynius is alive.”

The knowledge hit the crew like a freight train at full speed and they remained in shock as the message continued, “We know that’s a big surprise and you’ll have a lot of questions but as for the basics: she’s healthy and alive. We found out two months ago and I was ordered not to tell you. We’re telling you now because we have reliable communication with her and a rescue plan. We’ll send you a full write-up of what happened but know that this is not your fault. Aelin has heavily stressed this: it is not your fault. Take time to absorb this, your schedules have been cleared for the next two days. Send all your questions and we’ll answer them. Blackbeak out.”

“She’s…she’s alive?” Elide whispered, voice barely heard.

Fenrys was the first to crack, a slow smile spreading across his face, relief in his eyes, “G-Money lives.”

Nesryn and Elide both huffed laughs and the latter wiped her eyes, shaking their heads. “She’s alive,” Nesryn confirmed, a ghost of a smile on her face.

They all turned to Rowan, his façade slipping enough that there was an upwards tilt to the corners of his mouth. “Holy shit.” The doctor turned to Lorcan, who had remained silent, “Lor?”

“I left her behind.”

Fenrys shook his head decidedly, “We all left, L. All of us.”

The stone-faced commander clenched his jaw, his brow furrowing, “You were following orders.” His eyes shattered and when Elide reached for his hand, he shifted, keeping his gaze on the computer screen. “I left her.”

The group traded glances, not sure what to say. Elide rested her hand on his bicep and without another word, he shook off her hold and exited the room.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Nesryn wasn’t paying attention and her wife could tell. The green-eyed beauty paused in her retelling of their teenaged daughter’s, Evangeline, first date. “Nes?”

“Hmm?”

Lysandra chuckled, “You still there?”

“Oh,” Nesryn sat up straighter and smiled sheepishly at Lysandra, nodding, “yeah, it’s just… been a long day. Weird day too.”

Her wife tilted her head to the side, her brilliant eyes missing nothing, “You okay? Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she said, her smile growing as a redheaded girl popped her head upside down in the frame, her citrine eyes pressed up against the camera.

“Mama!” Evangeline sat down on the couch next to Lysandra, the fifteen-year-old wearing Nesryn’s TNSB hoodie, the scarred-over slashes on her cheeks stretching as she grinned. She pressed her hand against the screen and Nesryn copied the motion, her eyes watering.

“Hi, my darling,” she whispered, “how are you?”

“I’m good. I miss you, Ma,” she pouted, but soon enough her lips pulled into that brilliant smile of hers again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I miss the both of you so much and I can’t wait to see you either,” Nesryn replied, the sight of her family so happy and healthy mending her heart, even if it was just a bit. “Evie, your mother tells me you went on a date?”

Lysandra and Nesryn laughed as their daughter’s cheeks went bright red, her scars stark white against her flushed skin. “…maybe.”

“Tell me all about it.”

“Are you sure? It was a boy,” Evangeline said, a wrinkle to her button nose.

Nesryn faked a gagging sound and inhaled deeply, “I think I can handle it.”

The joyful chatter of their daughter soon spilled from the speakers and Nesryn gave her wife a soft look, mouthing I love you as she let the perfectness of her two favourite people in the world wash over her and strip away the day’s events. 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

When Lorcan didn’t return for the rest of the night, the sadness that had erupted in Elide’s chest turned to anger and she sought him out, finding him in his bunk, staring at nothing.

He didn’t acknowledge her as she climbed up so she did what any sensible person would do.

She jabbed him in the side with her index and middle finger, finding the soft flesh beneath his ribcage, glaring at him when he cried out in shock and pain. He met her angered gaze with one of his own, irritation rippling in his dark irises beneath lowered brows. 

Elide shook her head, “Don’t know why the fuck you’re pissy with me now.”

He sighed, “What do you want?”

She raised a brow, tilting her head to the side and tracking his face with watchful eyes. “You’re being a dick and I’m not putting up with it so…” she made to leave, blinking back tears, but his hand shot out and wrapped around hers.

“Don’t go, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging her back into his lap. The bunk was already a tight fit for Lorcan, who at six-foot-four and two-hundred and ten pounds was at the maximum size restrictions to be an astronaut, so with Elide as well, it became even smaller. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” she murmured, twisting to straddle his lap and brush his hair back from his eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because I left the woman my brother loves on a planet, with practically no way to survive. Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. “I don’t- I love you so much. I can barely breathe right without knowing you’re safe and I… I can’t help feeling guilty for condemning her to death. El.” He opened his eyes and flicked his gaze down to her necklace, where his dog tags laid between her breasts. The weight of her mother’s wedding band hanging on his own necklace had never felt more pronounced. “She might die, alright? And if she does, it will be my fault and I just… I can’t live with the knowledge of breaking Rowan’s heart like that.”

He took a deep breath, not used to speaking that much all at once. Elide offered him a gentle smile and framed his face with her hands, her eyes searching his, “I love you so much. Right now, Ae is alive and healthy, ok? That’s all we need to think about right now. If she dies, it will never be your fault and yes, it will hurt so much – more than anything. If she dies, the whole crew will be broken. We’ll be there for each other and for Ro, too.” She pressed her lips to his, kissing him so softly, it was heartbreaking. “Ok?”

All Lorcan could do was cup the back of her head and kiss her harder, selfishly thanking every god that it wasn’t Elide in Aelin’s place.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: welp....now they know! and as always, lovies, comment/send me an ask to be added/removed from the tag list! 

@mythicaitt​ @kandasboi​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @westofmoon​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @queenofxhearts​ @that-other-pineapple​ @sleeping-and-books​ @superspiritfestival​ @faerie-queen-fireheart​ @chemicha​ @rowaelin-cressworth​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @candid-confetti​ @bat-wing-rhys​ @the-reading-obsessed-stitchbear​ @feyrethedarklady​ @booklover41802​ @rowaelinforeverworld​ @jamesxdaisy​ @julemmaes​ @hellas-himself​

[soviet-history-detective]

What is the cost of not respecting boundaries?

(For those who haven’t seen, Part 1 and Part 2) A quick rundown for the people who are wondering what’s going on: Hello, folks. I am one of the leading Chernobyl/Legasov researchers who runs this youtube channel. I found the audio fragments of Legasov tapes which became quite a hit and received praise from Craig Mazin. Legasov tapes, which the migty HBO couldn’t find with their Russian-speaking consultants and millions of dollars of budget. I found rare photos and pre-Chernobyl videos of Legasov, translated a substantial amount of documentary material on Soviet near history topics, a good chunk of that being on Legasov and Chernobyl.  I am a live and let live kind of person and I was willing to look the other way with the Valoris shipping business cause “they were shipping the tv show characters and fangirling about the actors” so I ignored it and posted historical information, answered questions, unearthed and translated documentary videos and text material.   Then I abruptly stopped and went quiet cause the shipper gang went too far and started writing gross shit, rape fantasies and dragging real people who weren’t even in the tv show into their godawful fics -one of them being someone I highly admire, respect and look up as an inspiration and role model notwithstanding. 

They didn’t stick to Valoris, they had to involve the people who were not in the script at all. People whose names they learned from me. They had the audacity to discuss their fucked up fantasies (which they call headcanons) right under my nose, they couldn’t control themselves since they are completely driven by base animal instincts and some of them are downright sociopaths with no boundaries: Rabid and depraved, driven only by the primitive sexual instincts, with a two digit IQ, no understanding of boundaries, ethics, morals, completely bereft of common respect and decency. It’s creepy as hell -run for the hills kind of creepy.  (When I say no ethics and morals I don’t mean only sexual perversions. One of them is notorious for plagiarizing other people’s content in multiple social media platforms and acting indifferent when called out.) So I got creeped out, grossed out, infuriated, disillusioned and went quiet. Blocked everyone who was associated with Valoris to avoid their gross thirst talks. Blocked the tag too. Stopped posting new finds after the last Legasov video compilation. Stopped translating videos and text material for a long while.

They are way past normal shipping. This is some seriously fucked up shit.  Here are a couple of examples (Warning: Gross content, rape fantasies, scroll past the images and continue reading below if you can’t stomach or are a minor)

Here is more rape:

Their biggest argument is “We are writing fics about the fictionalized tv show characters” which is total and utter bullshit, because:

Nikolai Ryzhkov was not in the tv show at all.

Neither was Vladimir Gubarev. Why are they in those fics?

This isn’t all, there are public posts here where they were bouncing ideas and coming up with the most abhorrent fantasies about a real person who was NOT in the tv show. I don’t have the time to search them, plus they are really gross, you are better off not seeing it. (A paranthesis here: I’m totally indifferent about explicit fics if they involve only fictional characters and not promote rape culture. Just to make things clear.)

If you are using the names of real people, you are shipping real people. Period. I can write a fic using the shipper gang’s names in an alternate reality setting where they are an evil gang of cannibalistic cunts who raid maternity wards and butcher all the babies then burn puppies ad kittens alive for fun. Or I can write a fic where they all get sodomized with saguaro cacti dipped in ghost pepper sauce by sadistic rogue KGB agents. It’s fictionalized versions of them in an alternate universe after all, so it’s totally ok. Right? Well, there really is no point arguing these things, and that is not even the point of this post. I’m just saying it’s fucked up, creepy and wrong in every way. 

Not to mention they bully and gaslight people who speak up against them. Grown ass women bullying a 15 year old and adding a transphobic comment after learning they are trans is NOT COOL. @ihatefandomsfuckyouall can testify as the target of their bullying. That’s wrong and creepy as hell. 

HOWEVER. Like I said in the previous post, this won’t be about a holy jihad against shipping or some big anti-shipper crusade.  Nope, nope and nope with nope sauce.

Ship away, ship all you want, ship till you drop, ship till you turn Fedex green with envy. I am not here to lecture sociopaths driven solely by primitive sexual instincts and bereft of any kind of boundaries, morals, common respect and decency. There is nothing I or anyone can do about it. Like i said, I have no intention of trying to talk sense into anyone or giving sermons. So rest assured that I am well aware it’s pointless and stupid to wage a war against shipping, however gross and vile it is. I can’t stop you from sexualizing anything that walks (or has been long dead) and spewing sick ass fantasies. I will repeat for those with two digit IQ: I know there is nothing I or anyone can do to stop you from doing what you are doing, absolutely nothing. So I will do NOTHING. Got it? Whoever claims otherwise is full of shit, I will do absolutely NOTHING, you got my word 100%.

Seriously I won’t hate on you, I won’t call for holy wars and witch hunts. So, rest assured, I will not make any move against any of you, nope. Besides I don’t have the time for that, I have a busy life and better things to do. No war, no hate, no screaming, no drama, nothing. Is that clear? Capiche? Comprende? Понятно? 

Well, now let’s get to the heart of the matter:

I have been quiet but not idle. I’ve been contacting people, sending queries, making phone calls, digging state archive repositories. I have been finding material and boy did I find material! I happen to be one of the very few people who are blessed with an extraordinary ability to find things no one else can find. You have seen what I can find by utilizing search engines and going through links. Even Craig Mazin himself was mighty impressed with my finds, the proof is out there in public view, I won’t bother digging it up now.

Anyway. It turns out I can find hell of a lot more than that by contacting people, sending queries, making phone calls and digging through state archive repositories. Some of it costs pretty penny but no matter, I don’t mind paying for never-before-published video footage that is not on the internet. Some of it is not even digitized so you gotta pay extra fee for digitization and it can be quite high depending on the video length and media.

We are talking about HD videos here. There is excellent AI video processing software out there which can turn even the most primitive 19th century videos to crystal clear 60 fps HD so we are good. (Example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HbElEqm1TQ) I have photos that can’t be found by searching the internet. You’d drop dead if you saw some of them. I’m working on getting the full footage of Legasov’s IAEA presentation. It’s hella difficult, you have to personally go to Vienna and go through the seven hells and seven lower hells to obtain access. Also you need to be a research scientist with a reference letter. (All this info and list of requirements can be found on IAEA official site.) I won’t get into the details but I have it all sorted out, scientist and all. It wasn’t easy and it took a damn lot of time, effort, pulling family connections etc. Now the only remaining roadblock is this accursed coronavirus. As soon as the pandemic subsides a trip to Vienna shall be in order. The long Q&A session following Legasov’s report is unfortunately not available, but Legasov’s report certainly is (after fulfilling a laundry list of requirements.)

This is not all. There are photos (in addition to the publicly available ones I posted before) and video footage of Ryzhkov visiting Chernobyl, Legasov’s meetings, partial video of one Polituro meeting. There is this one precious footage where Legasov is laughing and drinking vodka. I won’t even say how many hours of work it took to find that. (Plot twist: I’m not the one who found it!) I have a pile of videos of Ryzhkov when he was the chairman of the council of ministers of the USSR, which are historical records of tremendous importance and not on Youtube. Buddies who have seen them had insta-man crush on him without even hearing my translation. Some of you would KILL for those, I know for a fact. For the Legasov drinking-partying video you would sell your soul to the devil (who wouldn’t?)

I have an IAEA report with an extremely rare photo you can’t find by searching. I won’t tell you who is in it cause I don’t want to supply anything you could use for your gross fics. Suffices to say one of them is someone you are drooling about and the other one is a big shot name that’s not on your radar and will unleash all kinds of fic ideas once you hear it. So nope. I ain’t giving you another Ryzhkov, I learned my lesson. I have video footage of that same man giving high praise to Legasov, talking with a tone of fondness, defending him against accusations. Such a sweet video. It put tears in my eyes. I can see you gang drooling a lake over that one so hell fucking no.  

Did I mention I started translating Legasov documentaries? Every single one on youtube. Including the entire Звезда Полынь. Also planning to convert some Legasov footage to HD using the aforementioned software tools. 

I have actually been posting videos and text material translations left and right, just out of your sight (nice rhyme, isn’t it?) 90% the material I listed above is either in the pipeline or in my hard disk.  @tryingtobealwaystrying can verify. She helped out a great deal with the IAEA business and I owe her one for that. We are both individually damn good at finding stuff but it turned out we can work wonders as a team. As a result, we have a treasure trove of the highest order in hand and in the works. 

And, here is the deal: YOU WILL SEE NONE OF IT.

N.O.N.E.

Not a shred. Not a pixel. Nothing. Ничего. Совсем нет. 

Get it now? “You didn’t see it cause it’s not there!” 

You won’t see it cause it won’t be there! 

So, this is it. I can’t do anything about your shipping scumbaggery but I can cut off your supply and deprive you of material and information. You will NEVER be able to find any of it on your own (let alone afford the fees for.) 

I will deprive you of the fruits of my labor. 

Indefinitely.

Of course that doesn’t mean I’ll keep it all to myself. I will share them but not in public. In fact I have translated and posted some videos you wanted real bad, one of them got 1000 views overnight but they are not public, for my work is not for the eyes of the wicked and unclean miscreants. I post them in shipper-free foreign forums you can’t find and send links privately to decent, wholesome people who are interested in Chernobyl and Soviet history for the passion to learn and admiration for the historical figures, not for spinning depraved fantasies and writing horrendous, projectile-vomit-inducing sex fics. And -as those of you who possess three digit IQ’s might have figured out!- I am not alone in that. (Plot twist FTW!)  Congrats, folks. You managed to alienate and drive away the top Chernobyl-Legasov researchers and translators with your hideous debauchery, extreme scumbaggery and abominable attitude. So, this is your punishment: NOTHING. This is the consequence you will deal with. This is the cost of your choices. 

A big nothing is all you will ever get from now on. 

See, told ya, there is absolutely nothing I can do about your gross shipping and scumbaggery so I will do NOTHING. 

Got the joke? LOL. I have awesome humor don’t I :) 

No more videos. No more photos. No more answers. No more translations. No more information.

You royally fucked up, people. You don’t get to eat the cake and the icing, especially not when you offend and insult the cooks, take a dump in the middle of the restaurant and masturbate while rolling in it. You could have kept it out of sight. You could have exercised some goddamn tact. But no, you had to behave like animals in heat. 

Well, you can continue obsessing over the TV show scripts until you get sick of it.  I will be posting translations of different parts of Soviet history like the WW2 era. You can ship Hitler and Stalin all you want. Get those headcanons rolling! I will even give you a prompt: Stalin cheats on Hitler with Mussolini. LMAO. 

You know what, I take back the not a pixel thing. We may post screenshots from the videos and low-res crops from the photos from time to time just to rub it in your face. 

Here is one where they are grilling Velikhov shortly after Legasov’s suicide. Oh boy you gotta see his face when they start bombarding him about Legasov’s death.... 

Here is the shot from a long video where the legendary Premier Ryzhkov is sporting the legendary 80′s Soviet glasses in all his superlative handsome glory. He is giving an interview about important historical turning points in this video and this isn’t even the best shot. You have to pay to get a copy but before that you need a superpower-like ability to find where it is in the first place. I scaled it up to 1440×1080 but not gonna put the high resolution version cause I’m such a darling.

  Here is Ryzhkov in the famous white work attire of the Soviet era. Looks familiar, yes? Do I need to tell WHERE he is and what he is doing? (Hint: The year is 1986.)

Oh man, oh man. How worried he looks, so heart-wrenching. The footage is only about 3 minutes but absolutely solid gold. I won’t say whether there is Legasov or Scherbina or BOTH of them appearing in this footage cause I’m such a sweetheart.

Unfortunately I am not at liberty to post any Legasov shots cause I am not the finder of the Legasov videos we currently have at hand. Too bad, so sad.  There you go. Enjoy your cold dish of nothing. Bon appetite. Adios amigas!  WHAT IS THE COST OF NOT RESPECTING BOUNDARIES? @tryingtobealwaystrying​ @the--arch @ihatefandomsfuckyouall​ @rarravai​ @weronikaisback​ @live-long-and-time-warp​ @tryingtobealwaystrying​ @chernobylgal86​ 

[revchainsaw]

Demon Wind (1990)

Demon Wind (1990)

Greetings and blessings upon you my flock! Welcome to the Cult of Cult. I am your pastor and priest of pop culture, ordained minister of genre films, the good reverend Chainsaw McGraw. You may just call me Reverend Chainsaw. Come and accept our sacrament upon the altar of online internet reviews. Our first holy offering is an absolute treasure, 1990′s Demon Wind. An offering ripped from the blood inked pages of the Evil Dead’s Necronomicon Ex Mortis, Demon Wind is not quite an unofficial entry into the world of Ash and the Deadites, but if you have exhausted the Catalogue of Sam Raimi Horror flicks (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a Tumblr review of Demon Wind, you probably have), then Demon Wind will scratch that itch for sure.

The Message

Our anointed offering opens upon a boarded up farm house owned by simple country occultists George and Regina Carter. There’s a Mean Girls reference to be made here. George and Regina are defending their homestead from an unseen force (A Demon Wind some might say) through a Christian/Witchcraft combination of gospel music, a set of holy daggers, and a diary full of Regina’s spells. Unfortunately it’s not very effective, and George is possessed. George kills Regina, drops a snow globe, and for some inexplicable reason the farmhouse explodes bringing the films epilogue to a close. 

With that we are brought to the year 1990 where our rag tag group of heroes converge upon the supernaturally supercharged Carter farm with one mission in mind, helping a homie sort out his shit. What a great group of friends; I can barely get the crew together for a game night but our protagonist Cory has a group of friends so tight they are willing to drop everything and drive untold miles to nowhere in particular just because he had a bad dream. Speaking of “tight” friends, of our doomed party, no friends are so tight as Chuck and Stacey, but we’ll get to that, in short order. Let us meet the fellowship of ding dongs who will battle the blustery bogeys of Demon Wind.

Cory is the star of the show. A fairly blasé everyman who’s so caught up in his chosen one journey that he can’t even bother to be slightly interesting. He is the grandchild of the oh so fetch (see I got to it) Regina/George pairing from earlier in the film. Cory is haunted by mysterious dreams, and a tragic reunion with his demented father, which draw him to the Carter farm. There is however more to meets the eye, you see Cory is from the planet Namek. Watch the movie, you’ll catch my drift. 

Elaine is Cory's girlfriend and wants nothing more than to pull her pants down in public to bring a smile to his face. 

Dell is Cory’s friend? Bully? Enemy? it’s not entirely clear. It seems Dells role in this story is to be an unabashed asshole and chauvinist to every character that interacts with him. He is also perhaps Elaine’s brother, or someone's brother. Listen, you’d have to pay wayyyy more attention than this movie warrants to parse out all the relationship dynamics in this flick. Let’s just say, Dell is here, and despite how he acts, the other characters seem to be ok with that fact.

Terri is Dell’s girlfriend and a good friend of Elaine. Despite being on the arm of a typical 80s teen flick bad guy, Terri seems to be the most eligible bachelorette on the Carter farm. Or so it may seem, but as I’ll explain later I think there is a truer love than can be expressed that really keeps Terri from leaving Dell.

Jack is a Big Ol’ Nerd. He speaks like the writers were convinced using a thesaurus was enough to convince us that the guy is existentially unfuckable. The guy is basically just Billy from Power Rangers, but instead of piloting a badass Triceratops Zord he just kids very mildly bummed when the love of his life is transformed into a very judgmental spontaneously combusting doll.

Speaking of spontaneously combusting dolls, the victim of that very unfair end is Bonnie. Bonnie clearly had way more confidence in the love of her bookish beaux than she should have. The betrayal is immense, not that Jack couldn’t save her, but just in the fact that when she meets her demise (despite the fact that he promised he’d protect her) he is not at all distraught. Poor Bonnie, she is by far the most human feeling of the cardboard cut out female protagonists in this film and she deserved better. Let’s be honest, Jack was looking for an out, and Bonnie was just too real for this movie.

And Now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce the greatest power couple in the history of B Movie Horror Cinema: Chuck and Stacy. If you think my introduction is a bit much, I promise that the film goes much further. Demon Wind begins it’s love affair with this bromance in delightfully extravagant style. There’s magic, explosions, opera, karate, beer and bunnies and a big ol middle finger to fucking Dell. Chuck had at once been romantically involved with Terri, but things went south somehow and he claims that he still holds a flame for her. Despite this continued insistence I think it’s plain to see that Chuck found comfort, magic, and a ride or die hunk in the arms of Stacey. Stacey is a suave, sharp, smooth talking guy, whose only desire in life seems to be whatever keeps Chuck around, and that seems to mean a lot of stage magic and martial arts! I could write about Chuck and Stacey all day, so I’ll move on from here.

The cast of this film is wild and honestly even the weak ones are fun to watch. There is no character on the roster who is easy to mistake for another. That is why it is so fun to watch them meet their demise and even more fun to see them return under the possession of the demon wind as oopy goopy caricatures of their human selves. And this does go on for quite awhile. Unfortunately even Chuck and Stacey are not enough to protect the surreal landscape in which they find themselves. At one point in the film a second set of friends drop by to add 2 more bodies to the massacre. Willy and Reena, a gangly set of clothing accessories who are given legs, but hey Ear Ring and Beret, I mean Willy and Reena are still fun to see torn to shreds.

The movie ultimately reveals that the madness was sparked by the fact that a cult worshipping a Demon God named Delos had actually built the homestead and the cursed ground they stand upon is the stage for the cult leader, a preacher named Anders to finally become the host of said Demon God. As interesting as that lore may sound on paper, it’s not particularly well executed, and Cory’s role to play in all of this is even more vague. All in all the 3rd act of this film feels a bit anti-climatic even if it does feature a demon superhero fight. 

All that said I’d like to move on to the next phase of our sacred liturgy. The sacred and profane, the highs and lows of this movie.

Benediction

Best Feature: What the What?

The best feature of Demon Wind has to be how bizarre it is. It throws everything it can think of at the audience. Burning Skeletons leap from Crosses, eggs that hatch into piles of worms, EXPLODING BABY DOLLS, Cow skulls with long sticky tongues made of human intestines! They certainly sacrificed logic in order to insure they provided the audience with something they haven’t seen before.

Best Kill/ effect: A Cowmen Album Cover!

The best effect in Demon Wind is also it’s best kill. while investigating a barn on the Carter property, which is full of occult symbols, animal remains, and fun Texas Chainsaw Massacre style crafts. One of the crafts catches the eye of Beret, I mean Reena. You know by her hat that she knows a thing or to about fine art. This particular piece of barn décor is a human skeleton with a cow’s skull. As she is inspecting this “beautiful” piece, what appears to be a human intestine, flies from the mouth of the cow skull and wraps around Reena like a chameleons tongue. The intestine begins to retreat into the jaw of the skull bringing Reena’s head along with it. The skull chomps down into Reena, we get a satisfyingly bloody show, and Reena’s body winds up hanging limp from its mouth. 

Second place belongs to Bonnie, but we’ve already spoken to that bizarre spectacle.

Best Scene: I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Stacey!

Chuck and Stacey enter the scene. I know I’m inconsistent in how I spell Stacey/Stacy. This scene was mentioned above and you just have to see it. Watch until Cory intervenes.

Best Character(s): Stacey Cassidy and the Sundance Chuck

Stacey is the best character in this film, but as I’m sure he wouldn’t accept this honor alone I have to make it a tie. Chuck and Stacey are just so good. Every moment they are on screen is a treasure. The introduction of these two just received the honor of best scene, but they shine as Demons and in an even longer sequence leading to their demise. They take the watch at the Carter home and from the fog emerges a t!ddy ghost, my congregants will be familiar with this sort of creature, who attempts to lure them outside. Stacey puffs up Chucks confidence calling him “John Wayne”, Chuck proposes they go on a Tahitian vacation, but Stacey wisely wary of voodoo suggests Vegas. And there you have it, these two pure good boys are surviving this flick and they are getting married in Vegas. Unfortunately, they decide to speed things up a bit, and decide that although they are not tempted by the t!ddy ghost, that they can use their karate magic to defeat the demonic hordes. They march out into the woods, but we can add the power of love to the list of things that are no use against the Demon Wind. Our best boys meet their fates together like two old west heroes, guns blazing! Oh, oh, but they come back as demons and they eat Dell, so thank God for that. 

Worst feature: I ordered these Deadites from Wish

 The villains are not particularly interesting. It’s boring, goopy, bad mouth piece demons that have appeared in hundreds of demon flicks already by this point, and it really makes you want to go back to the unexplained paranormal happenings from earlier in the movie rather than fighting these dollar store Deadites. The fact that the film leans into this in it’s third act really makes the film feel incredibly front loaded. 

Worst scene: Cory in the House

Pretty much any scene that focuses on Cory is a bit weak. He’s just not fun. He gets to transform into an anime character in the end of the film and he’s still melodramatic and boring. This is often a problem with main characters in films, the writers don’t want them to be unlikeable or too quirky so the fun parts are always the supporting cast. 

Worst Character: Dude, you’re NOT getting a Dell!

 Don’t get me wrong, I hate Dell. But Dell is a big dumb goon who is just so fun to watch suffer and act like an utter meathead, and being hateable is not the worst thing a character can be. For this reason I have to give the worst character award to Cory; for many of the reasons I spoke about above.

Summary:

How fitting that a B movie gets a B. But that’s really a great place for this movie to be. So many big Hollywood productions don’t deserve that spot. Though Demon Wind may drag in the middle, and the characters and effects may be quite corny, it is certainly not boring. Demon Wind is eye candy even though it looks so ugly. It has some of the most loveable murder lambs in the genre and one of my favorite bromances in all of cinema, If you are a fan of Gonzo Horror then Demon Wind is a must see. If you are not all that into that sort of thing I promise you’ll have a good time. I highly recommend it. 

Overall Grade: B

[fritillary]

Oh, holy shit?? That’s genuinely so cool. You mentioned him being your favourite king, right? Can I get another fact about him? Or even any other king whose history you would like to discuss! ILYT!!

He designed Buckingham palace! It’s probably what he’s most famous for, aside from banning his own wife from his Coronation & being in a lot of debt. He was only officially king for 10 years - though he was Prince Regent for ages. 

What Regent means is that he was standing in for his father, George III, who was considered unfit to rule due to illness. George III either had an inherited blood disorder (probably the same one Henry VIII’s only son Ed died of) or bipolar disorder, it’s unclear. Either way, he had a lot of manic episodes, especially after his youngest daughter died, and after a while it became clear he just wasn’t fit to rule anymore because he wasn’t lucid at all. There’s stories about him talking gibberish for 52 hours straight, eventually developing dementia, and not realizing that he was king at all by the end. It’s kind of sad, honestly. At the time, he was the longest reigning Monarch of England (though he was taken over by Queen Vic, and now Liz 2 has taken over both of them)

George III was also the reigning monarch when America gained its independence! I know barely anything about US history except some stuff about polio, but I do often wonder if America would still be a part of the British Empire if Georgian medicine was better or if George III wasn’t plagued by mental illness.

To give you some sense of what medicine was like at the time, all hairdressers were doctors, because they figured it’s all just hacking off body parts so why not? Treatment for George’s mania included shouting at him and blood letting, along with PUTTING ARSENIC POWDER ON HIS FACE, because blisters were thought to get rid of toxins (??? idk they also still believed in the four humors at the time).

Fun fact: We only have Prime Ministers in England because of the first of the Hanovers (aka George IV’s great granddad) just... didn’t speak English very well. George I only got the crown because he was a Protestant (Protestants vs Catholics is a huge thing in England and I honestly have no idea why because it’s literally the same religion with a different name. I think at the time there was an official law that said a Catholic couldn’t ascend to the throne, even through marriage - which is why George IV’s first marriage was illegal. I digress). He was a German prince and regularly fucked off back to Germany and came back speaking even less English. The people were not particularly fond of him as a King of Britain, understandably. Some people say that he actually did speak English, but he just kept up the facade of not understanding it so that he could shun the responsibility of the crown. He was a pretty private person and he’s the last British King to have been buried outside of England. 

Also, not British at all, but I found out a few days ago that Nero married Pythagoras. WTF. The math guy. I will never be able to look at a triangle the same way again.

[metaphysical-human-being]

Switcheroo 7

Masterlist

A/N: I am back! AHHH! Sorry for the late chapter I honestly thought it had only been like four days dude they’re blending together. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, crying. Mentions of starving, falling from a tree, neck-snapping(all of these could be put under Remus being Remus) Tell me if I should add more!

Summary: So dinner was a disaster, hopefully we can fix it. 

-

Remus didn't know where he was going, exactly. 

He had been in NC for a few months now but hadn't really been to many places. His house, school, the park, his therapists office and his dads’ cafe were the only places he had really been. A few restaurants too but not much else. The part of town that Roman lived in was one that Remus had never been close too and, therefore, knew nothing about. That didn’t stop him from blindly running out the door before anyone could see him cry, though. He’d rather strip down naked in front of the prime minister of Canada then let the people that rejected him see him so weak and vulnerable.Give them a reason to justify what they did. 

No. Remus refused to give them the satisfaction. 

The air was crisp, almost painfully so. The sharpness burned his lungs and cut his throat. Every huff of air came out raggedy and unpleasant and just added a whole new level of discomfort for Remus but he kept running. He made a sharp left then a right then continued two blocks. The buildings blended together. The grays and yellows and reds didn’t help in soothing him, they just made him panic harder and keep running. After a couple more turns, he stopped. He was too out of breath and the cold was becoming unbearable. 

He found himself downtown. He didn't know Roman lived that close to downtown.or maybe he wasn't close. He had been running for a good twenty or so minutes. Maybe. Maybe longer. He wouldn't be surprised if it was normally an hour walk. He guesses that would still be close though. 

He wandered around a bit until he could recognize something. The first familiar thing he found was a grocery store. This certain grocery store he had never been in but passed it all the time on his way to Des' cafe. He knew for a fact that the cafe was two blocks away and Remus could easily run over and get in. He still had his keys and knew where all the extra food was. 

He took off in a heated sprint, ready to lay on the couch in the break room and cry. 

-

De was freaking the fuck out. 

His singular kid just ran out of his boyfriends best friends house after having a huge argument with his long lost twin and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. Most parenting books don’t exactly tell you what to do in these types of situations and he never thought he’d have to deal with it so he didn’t have much time to come up with some semblance of a plan!

“Okay, dear,” Logan said, rising from the table and looking towards De. “You go get your coat and grab my keys. We’ll go drive and look for Remus. He just ran out, he couldn’t have gone far-”

“Holy shit-” De muttered.

“Eli! You and George get Roman up to his room and try to calm him down!" Logan pointed towards the boy still crying on the floor. Eli Rose from her seat and over to Roman. 

“Holy shit-” De muttered, a bit louder.

"Come on, querido. Let's go up to your room. Come on,” she whispered, slowly guiding Roman to his feet and up the stairs. George followed, slightly dazed. 

"Holy shit my kid just ran out the fucking door in a neighborhood we've never been in!" De yelled, hands immediately attaching to his hair and pulling. He didn't even really know he was doing it, far too concerned for his kid.

Logan walked around the table and over to De. He slowly moved his hands on top of Des' and pulled them away from his hair. He brought Des knuckles up to his mouth and placed feather light kisses on both hands. It calmed De a lot more than he'd like to admit. 

"It's okay, mon serpent. It'll be okay. I'm going to go grab my keys and we'll drive around. I need you to think of all the places he might go." Logan said, voice level. It calmed De down long enough for him to blush at the nickname used. 

“You flirt. Thank you, so much.” he breathed, pecking him on the nose. Logan smiled before rushing off to grab his keys. De made his way to the car, getting in before Logan had left the house. A minute later and they were both off, ready to stay up all night to look for him.

-

“Come on, querido. Let’s go up to your room. Come on,” Roman heard his mother whisper in his ear. He obeyed, standing and walking with her even as tears ran down his cheeks and his head pounded with so many thoughts. So many feelings.

He was angry. Angry at the things Remus had said. Angry at the things he had said. He was also heartbroken. Torn at the mere idea that this was it. They’d never get their relationship back. At the thought that Remus might hate him and he can’t really blame him. He hated himself right now. 

He felt his mother lead him to his bed and plop him down. She bent down in front of him and wiped away his tears with her thumbs. The touch was rough but motherly. He adored it and leaned into her hands as more tears spilled over his eyelashes. She cooed at him but it sounded pitiful. Almost as pitiful as he looked. 

“It’s okay, dear. It will all be okay.”

“No it won’t.” Roman whispered. 

“You..” George walked across the room and kneeled in front of Roman, right next to Eliana “You don’t know that, Roman.” he said, placing his hand on his shoulder. Roman shrugged it off but felt bad about it immediately afterwards. “I-sorry. Sorry dad, mother dearest. I just...I just don’t know-” he sucked in a breath, the tears slowing down. “I’m s-so so sorry. For-for fucking every-..everything up. I don’t know why I did..did that I just-I was-agh!” He yelled, falling down onto his back. He angrily brought his hands up to his eyes to wipe away the remaining tears which only made more appear. He groaned. 

Eliana looked to George. George looked to Eliana. They were heartbroken. 

They didn't know what to do. They knew all the words in the world wouldn't be able to help Roman. Not from them, at least. 

"You're stressed, hijo. How about we watch movies?" Eliana suggested, moving her hand to his knee. "All your favorites. We'll come up with a solution in the morning, okay?" She asked. 

Roman sat up, hair a mess and teary-eyed. 

He sniffed. "Okay." He said. His parents smiled and rushed to get everything together for the best movie night ever.

- 

“So he wasn’t at the house-”

“Nope.”

“Any of the parks-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Or at the school-”

“Why did we think he’d be there?”

“This is horrible.” Logan sighed, getting back into the car. He shut the door and  plopped his head down to rest on the steering wheel. It had been about an hour and a half and they couldn’t find Remus anywhere! Logan was close to giving up home at this point. File a missing person and get ready to have De break up with him because of how horrible he was for not only losing his son but not being able to find hi-

“Hey,” he felt de tap the back of his neck. He hummed, so De knew he’d heard him. “I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. Okay? I’m not mad and I’m not gonna break up with you. We just have to keep looking.” he said, stroking the back of Logan's head gently. 

He shot De a baffled look. How in the world could he know exactly what he was thinking?

De seemed to pick up on this. 

“I don’t know how I know,” he said. “Remus thinks it’s because I’m a witch.” he shot Logan a smirk causing Logan to smile as well.

“Well, you are quite bewitching.” he said. De laughed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. 

“Flirt. Now up, we still have some searching to do.” 

“Correct. Can you think of any more places he may have gone off?” Logan asked, starting up the car and driving out of the school parking lot. De thought for a while before letting out a groan and burying his head in his hands. Logan didn’t say anything. 

“I’m a fucking idiot.” De said.

“No you’re not.” Logan answered, on reflex. 

“You know how to get to the cafe from here?” De asked although he knew he did. Logan hummed and headed towards the cafe. He, too, felt like an idiot for not thinking of that. 

They made it there in record time. Only 14 minutes(it should have been 25) and they were in front of the cafe. They parked right outside the door and headed in, finding it to already be unlocked. They heard the fresh prince theme song blaring from the break room and knew they were in the right place. 

De quickly locked the door again and led Logan to the break room. 

Remus heard a knock. It was the quiet yet firm and he knew his alone time had come to an end. Pausing the tv, and wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders, Remus opened the door a crack. 

“If you’re here to steal the money from the cash register the code is 1872.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” De said, opening the door wider and letting him and Logan into the small room. Remus didn’t stop him, just moved back to the couch. De and Logan made themselves comfortable on either side of him. He resumed the show. No one spoke. 

“I’m sorry...for everything, De. I just...I just..” Remus brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms, firmly, around them. He rested his chin on top of his right knee. “I fucked up. Like really bad. Roman...Roman was right. You didn’t want me. You should’ve just left me there to starve-”

Des eyes widened at that and he twisted his body to fully look at Remus. He placed a hand on his shoulder and watched as beads of tears gathered at his eyes.

“Remus, dear, don’t say that,” De said. Remus didn’t seem to hear him. 

“You should’ve let me stay there. Cold and hungry and alone-”

“Remus. Remus, dear, please don’t say that.” 

“It’s true.” Remus whispered, tears freely falling down his red cheeks. “It’s true and you know it. You didn’t want me, you pitied me. Well, I’d rather not have a dad then have one that only got me to make himself feel better. Rather I fall off the tallest tree and snap my neck in half. Clean split. Wouldn’t you like that, dad?” Remus spat. The tears were heavier now. 

De gasped. Logan spoke up.

“When Desmond and I went on our first date,” he said, voice calm. “He spent almost exactly 48 minutes talking about you. Not back to back but altogether. It was a 3 hour date and he spent almost ⅓ of that time talking about you. No descriptions but things you said. Things you did. How you're doing in school.” Logan shifted to look at Remus. He made sure he was staring him in the eyes before continuing. 

“He spent a good ten minutes talking about how good you were at track. Whenever he talked about you he got this look in his eye. It was...something. Adoration? Love? Probably a mix of both and more, if we’re being honest. Most people would get annoyed at something like that but I found it...incredibly attractive.”

Remus made a face. He didn’t like thinking of his dad as attractive. Logan picked up on this. 

“Apologies. Intriguing. I found it intriguing. I wanted nothing more than to become so important to him that he looks like that when he talks about me. I wanted to become almost as important as you are to him. Not more, I would never do that. But second, maybe? Do you get what I’m saying, Remus?” Logan asked, tilting his head slightly. De would have found it cute but he was too busy swooning all over again. 

Remus nodded his head. 

“I-...I’m important to-to my dad. He..” Remus trailed off, burying his head in his knees. 

De wrapped his arms around Remus, pulling him into his chest and rocking back and forth. 

“It’s true dear. What Roman said is all a lie. I wanted an older kid and when I saw you, yelling at one of the caretakers because she wouldn’t let you chase the squirrels at the dog park anymore...I knew you were perfect. I knew I wanted you.”

“But I-I-I’m horrible! I think the wrong things, say the wrong things! I am the wrong thing in your life! We had to move states because of me!” Remus yelled into his chest, snot and tears soaking his shirt but De didn’t care. 

“Remus, I’m going to tell you once so you better listen. I would endure every hardship I’ve ever face but 80x more painful if that meant I got to be your dad. If that meant I got to be the one who gets called in because you punched a kid in the mouth when he called me ugly. To be there to see every gruesome drawing and hear you gush about you favorite gory scenes in Criminal minds. To go to your meets and congratulate you on your win and go get ice cream. Or tell you better luck next time and go get ice cream. I wouldn’t give up any of that for the world, dear. Okay?” he asked. Remus nodded into his chest. He was crying far too much for words. 

Logan placed a hand on his back and made gentle circles with it. 

“If it helps, whenever Roman was sad he’d watch Lilo and Stitch. I asked him about it one day and he said that...it reminded him of someone. Someone he loves. I can only assume that’s you.” Logan said, voice quiet. 

Remus snapped away from Des' chest. Logan stopped rubbing circles and took his hand back. He was about to ask if he had done something wrong when Remus buried into his chest, blubbering incoherent words. It sounded like he was saying “thank you” so he decided he was. 

De moved to be on the other side of the crying teen and rested his head on Logans shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the both of them. 

“He likes you.” De whispered into his ear and Logan couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his cheeks as Remus calmed down.

Not the best first meeting, but at least it guaranteed him a more permanent spot.

-

SquidDoctor🦑 : my boi

Aspergoos: Never call me that again and I’ll tell you my plan

SquidDoctor🦑: dude. broski. syrup to my pancake. milk to my cereal.

Aspergoos: Cereal to my milk.*

Aspergoos: Don't you ever put milk before cereal again you absolute heathen

SquidDoctor🦑: lol. Okay dude, whatcha got?

Aspergoos: Disgusting

Aspergoos: Anyway, there is no plan. Desmond got Remus to agree to try and talk to Roman during lunch on Monday. I even offered to let them use my classroom. Just get Roman to agree as well. I’ll be right outside in case there’s a brawl. Got it? Or are those instructions too hard for you?

SquidDoctor🦑: fuck u

SquidDoctor🦑: i got it. hes passed out rn but ill tell him 

SquidDoctor🦑: where'd ya find the kid?

Aspergoos: At the cafe. He was watching Fresh Prince reruns in the breakroom when he found him. Kid was a mess

SquidDoctor🦑: same here. offered to watch lilo and stitch to cheer him up and he nearly had a breakdown. guess u were right 

Aspergoos: I always am

SquidDoctor🦑: nah

SquidDoctor🦑: anyway imma head to bed. u?

Aspergoos: We’re gonna take Remus home. He’s passed out too. Imma stay at Des place. Oh, btw, we stole your car. Didn’t realize till we were gone. 

SquidDoctor🦑: lol u scratch my car yall both getting shipped to antarctica

Aspergoos: I assumed. Night, Eli. Love ya. Sweet dreams

SquidDoctor🦑: u too Lo. night!

-

Those who wanted to be tagged:

@datfearlessfangirl

@queer-human-being

@annoyingindeed

@deceitslimysanders

@mynamehasbeenstolen

@healthyboybrand

@lasilhouetteinbianco

@thetrombonewhisperer

@gayturtlez

[kshitij1997]

Welcome back!

Well, the die has been cast, and Europe shall endure the consequences. Or will it?

Onward with the story :)

All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney. All I own is this retelling and some original characters.

Chapter 10: Felino the crooked nose

 

February the 5th, 1828,

‘You’re a frigid, wormy piece of shit, you know that?’, growled the recently anointed Tsar at the Arendellian Monarch. Not a good sign for the conference the concert of Europe had arranged; the Monarch of Arendelle was hellbent on closing his country yet again, and no one was willing to budge on their stance.

‘I care not for the impression you choose to have about me, your majesty. I have my reasons and my fears to support my decision. I have to do what I feel is best for my kingdom, as would you if you faced a decision of a similar magnitude.’ Agnarr stated his position calmly, even as he felt no genuine respect for the Russian Monarch. Unlike his late brother, Tsar Nicholas the first had no great capacity for empathy and understanding. He had chosen to keep himself and his people ignorant. After all, what could one say of the sovereign who treated his highest officials and closest advisors like the serfs he saw them to be, and the holy synod under him bragged openly about how it was their god given duty to keep the downtrodden as they were. Oh, how their man, Sergei Uvarov, the Tsar’s minister of education, openly declared: “If I can extend Russia’s childhood another fifty years I will consider my mission accomplished.”

Oh, the Tsar saw himself as a god, and a jealous one at that. Agnarr understood that and knew that as a fellow sovereign, the Tsar could do little but rant in his face for the insult. Even if he would want to wage war upon Arendelle, he wouldn’t wish to give up access to the only warm water seaport he had. Still, Agnarr’s worries were far greater than some disgruntled people in power.

Elsa had lost control of her powers and was crippled in her fear, Anna had been forced to selective amnesia from Grand Pabbie, leaving no trace of Elsa’s powers and Olva...well she hadn’t been so fortunate. Against the advice of Grand Pabbie, he and Iduna had insisted on the procedure of wiping her memory clean of Elsa’s powers and the accident. The hermit warned of the consequences he was facing now with Olva, but how was he to know in his panic and desperation? Now the poor girl had begun experiencing fits and severe headaches, along with bouts of fainting for several minutes. He hadn’t slept this past month properly in the worry of what could happen to his family. Now he had a solution, and he would not back off from it. He must protect his family in any way possible. He must.

‘Your majesties, please don’t antagonise each other. This concerns all of us. You’re not the only ones troubled here. King Agnarr, you’d best explain yourself.’, queen Sophia spoke firmly as she presided over the conference. Agnarr’s declaration had shocked everyone, and he was yet to provide an explanation.

‘Thank you, queen Sophia. I have no intent on stepping on anyone’s face or insulting anyone. This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.

And before you decide on persecuting war against me, ask yourselves this. Haven’t we had enough of war? We saw 2 decades of war followed by a decade of relative peace. If you ask me, I’d rather prefer the latter. I make this tough choice for the safety of all Europe, please understand.’

He paused to size up the room, who could be his allies and enemies hereafter. Corona and Austria-Hungary were definitely his allies; he knew Reginald would support him in the end. Weselton and the English would be against it; his partnership with them and America would be at risk, he’ll have to accommodate them somehow. Same was the situation with Russia. Maybe the Ottomans had to be brought in to keep Russia in check? Spain and the Southern Isles could be neutral; the Spanish could not care less, their main rivals were the English and the French, they would only vote as a formality. As for the Southern Isles were represented by queen Paulina, for the king had taken ill. On the surface, Paulina looked pleasant and charismatic, yet Agnarr knew that she would be a formidable and dangerous foe if he didn’t play this right. He began to speak again but was rudely interrupted.   

‘And what would be these insurgent elements? The Northuldra?’, asked the duke of Weselton. The room tensed at the duke’s blatant attempt towards badgering the king of Arendelle. Agnarr had to fight a very strong impulse towards bashing the duke’s head on the wall. After composing himself mentally, he replied with barely concealed intentions ‘Why, yes. They have been neglected for far too long. I must attempt to bring them up with the kingdom. They are too obscure and are getting discontent.’

‘Just the language your father used, didn’t he? And where is he now? Lost like the rest of them. I’m telling you; this country is a lost cause. The Northuldra are ‘discontent’? Don’t make me laugh. They’re out for your and your family’s blood. They have been for years.’, the duke was clearly enjoying himself at Agnarr’s expense.

‘And if I hope to pursue a peaceful solution and keep Europe out of the mess, what is so wrong with that, duke?’, Agnarr nearly spat out the last part.

‘It’s always something personal. What, a problem with your kids now?’

‘Why, your uncouth son of a-‘

‘ENOUGH!’, the presiding queen roared. ‘That’s the second time you have tried to lay discord in the concert on purpose, duke. Once it was over my kidnapped child and now this. I swear, if it happens again, you’re going to meet your maker without warning, in front of everyone!’

‘I can’t believe you’re still going on about your bloody kid. She’s fucking dead! I always get enraged how the kings of Europe are disturbed about such trivial matters, and I’m to be punished because I call out the bullshit for what it is?! Fine. Hang, draw, and quarter me all you want, that does not change the fact that once again, some people are sullying the good name of the concert for their own interests.’, the duke spat venom without a care.

‘I’ve heard enough. Marshals, break the duke’s kneecaps.’, an enraged Sophia gave the cold order to her personal guard. The duke’s bravado melted away instantly, and he shrunk in his stature as the marshals came to deal with him.

‘Sophie, stop!’ King Reginald shouted.

‘Pray tell, what now, Reginald?’ his spouse was beyond annoyed by now.

The king of Corona whispered in his spouse’s ear ‘We’ll get the coward some other time. I need to talk sense into Agnarr somehow. I advise you to break for recess.’ A rare sight for the usually tempestuous king to calm down his calmer, more pragmatic wife.

Queen Sophia sighed heavily and announced a recess.

Once they were alone, Reginald confronted Agnarr ‘What’s gotten into you, Agnarr? You’re supposed to be the sensible one amongst us two.’       

‘I’ll tell you what’s sensible. I should invade the fucking duchy of Weselton, lay it to fucking waste, burn it to the fucking ground, and salt the fucking remains barren forever!’ Agnarr snarled with uncharacteristic murder in his eyes.

‘Oh, calm down, crusader. I hate the duke much more than you do, believe me. Nevertheless, even I must agree with that poltroon over your course of action. It’s drastic and uncalled for. Tell me honestly what’s bothering you. We’ll make it right. Tell me.’

‘You don’t believe me? I told you every reason I have for doing this. My kingdom has only just recovered from the previous war. I can’t risk another. I certainly can’t afford it to become a pan-European conflict. At the end of the day, I just want my heir to inherit a stable state. An agitated group of people is not the hallmark of a stable state. Even if it takes me years, I must resolve this once and for all.’

Reginald spoke empathetically ‘Alright, but it still is a visceral reaction to the situation. I think foreign aid would only help more. Are you sure about it?’

Agnarr thought about telling the truth to his best friend, but ultimately decided otherwise; he couldn’t let the secret get out in any circumstance.

‘Yes I am. I also believe that those so-called insurgents are supplied by foreign powers themselves; they would like nothing more than to make my kingdom their colony. And that fucking Weselton shill... I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s behind the whole damn thing.’

‘That may be true, but without solid evidence, we can’t deal with him effectively. We must be sure.’ Reginald advised him.

‘Alright, but I can’t back down from my position. Yes, my kingdom will suffer in the short run, but I know we’ll be secure and united eventually.’

Ultimately, the concert decided that Arendelle would only keep one point of access open to the outside world; the main port. Only diplomats and special traders would be allowed. Every other traveller, from tourist to student would have to be barred from entering the country. It may cause uprising among the international students in his kingdom, but he’ll have to deal with them on his down. To preserve the security, the red tape for the traders and businessmen became very harsh. All, in service towards protecting my family; Agnarr thought.

A week later

A craven figure along with half a dozen guards floated in a rowboat towards one of the northern shores of Arendelle, beyond the mist. A hooded figure in silhouette waited for them on shore, heavily dressed to protect them self against the bitter February cold. Upon reaching the shore, the hooded bowed in respect and said ‘Welcome, honourable duke of Weselton. I hope your journey was pleasant enough.’

‘As pleasant a trip I could hope in stormy, waning winter, thank you for asking.’, the duke removed his cloak and coat to make his face more visible, and gestured his guards to disembark and stand around. The scrawny man took a moment to stretch himself, and at length, spoke ‘How many instances of forbidden people wandering into your grounds?’

‘Not as many as before, however a group of the Iceni tribe were intercepted in the valley of death during patrol two months ago and dealt with without exception. No survivors that we know of.’

‘Good, the illegals are dwindling, soon they would be no problem. However, as long as Arendelle stands, you’ll never be safe. We’ll have to confront them once and for all.’

‘Let’s continue our discussion on the way to camp, honourable duke.’

The Northuldrian camp was twenty-five kilometres inland from the seashore, but the spirits had grown very erratic in recent years, so the Northuldra had to find new routes to their homes every few weeks. The latest incident was particularly severe; a landslide had destroyed the usual detour they took, so they had to take the tributaries by another boat, a slower but safer way of travel.

‘Forgive me, honourable duke. I know travel by water does not agree with you.’

‘I’ll live. Tell me, how is everything holding up north of the mist?’

‘We’re eking out a living somehow. As you know, the rivers have been gradually changing course towards the south, our arable lands are going barren as a result. Adding to the problem, the rains are becoming scarcer with every passing year bit by bit. I regret to inform you that the poppy plantation is facing a loss, the raw material for the heroin would be short this time.’

‘It seems you’ve lost the plot, haven’t you? How will I get you your weapons if your end of the bargain is low? Weapons, armament, lumber and steam technology for ships don’t come cheap, you know?’ the duke said with the faux humility that masked grave threats underneath, and the hooded figure knew well what those threats were. Nevertheless, a low yield was not the biggest problem.

‘There’s more, honourable duke. Arendelle has tried to sue for peace and is willing to cooperate.’

‘Yes, I heard. We both know it’s nonsense.’

‘I’m not so sure. The terms they have offered seem rather reasonable.’

‘I’m sure they are. They may be too reasonable, I’m afraid. Implying something between the lines. The implication being disastrous for the Northuldra. If you ask me, I would never take any terms Europe offers at face value.’

‘I’m a fair sceptic of the south, just as you are. But since the rise of the mist, they have not engaged in any big skirmishes.’

The duke sighed and said ‘It pains me to say it, but you lack an ocean of imagination. There are uncountable ways to fight a war of attrition, and Arendelle has chosen the most insidious way.’

‘What do you mean, duke?’

‘I’d rather tell this to everyone at once, instead of making it a poor game of translation errors.’, with that, the duke fell silent, knowing full well that the hooded figure’s doubts had been flared up.

After a voyage of two hours, the party reached the camp. A huge crowd had gathered upon the riverbank where the canoe stopped. The hooded figure removed his hood and stood beside the Northuldra leader as her most trusted vassal. The Northuldra leader went by the name of Yelena, a woman moving towards middle age, standing barely above the duke in stature, but those aged eyes had seen many ups and downs. The leader slightly prostrated herself before the duke; the Northuldra way of showing respect towards authority.

‘Welcome, o duke! I hope your voyage was pleasant.’

‘As much as I could hope it to be. I must say, the Northuldra’s native lands grow more beautiful every time I venture up’ the duke said.

‘Your grace flatters us. I believe my trusted vassal has given you the lowdown for everything that has happened in the past three months. We’ll be happy to discuss a compromise for the goods you need.’

‘Thank you, your excellency. However, my worries include the survival of the Northuldra as well.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘You may have received terms from the king of Arendelle for a peaceful cessation in the past few days, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, they are more reasonable than I expected.’

‘I feared so, for if you paid attention, you’d realise that the terms are too positive. They’re willing to overlook the massacre of the group of Iceni that happened two months ago. Not to mention the fact that they may have stumbled about the truth about our trade operation as well.’

‘Speaking of the trade operation, what we may be short of in terms of goods, we’ll make up in plunder in the North Atlantic. I have sanctioned three fleets for the same purpose later this week.’

‘That is encouraging, but I must warn you, the plundering operation would become very difficult very soon. What with the king of Arendelle sealing the kingdom’s maritime and overland borders.’

‘Excuse me, come again?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.’

‘No, I didn’t. Please enlighten us, your grace.’

‘Well, your excellency, the king of Arendelle has decided to isolate the country, and I quote his speech: “This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t, then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.” Now you tell me, is this the language a man would use while suing for peace?’

Yelena became quiet for a moment, taking in al the information. At length, she asked ‘What are the possible ramifications of this declaration?’

‘They could be numerous, but I’ll tell you the most obvious one. Within a month at the latest, the coasts would be dotted by the Arendellian navy, putting a blockade through which nothing except their own ships could get in or out. You can imagine they would be only too happy to hunt down your pirate ships before you’re able to secure any loot at all. You can’t raid through the land, as the mist is your most powerful jailer. It will surely be a stifling experience; I won’t deny it.’

‘What if we do sue for peace? If we sincerely send an envoy to the south?’

‘Aye, you could try that. In fact, I suggest you try that without fail.’ Interrupted a tall, dark man as he made his way inside Yelena’s tent.’

‘Mathias, just because the mist forces me to tolerate and learn to like your presence doesn’t mean you interrupt me in meetings about the matters of state.’ Yelena bristled with annoyance.

‘Believe me, once the mist lifts up, I’ll ride south, first thing on my to-do list.’

‘Mathias, you look familiar. Tall, dark, muscular, good posture. Does your Ethiopian father still till the grain and tan the leather shoes?’, making harsh, cutting remarks was a talent the duke used well.

‘No. Does the honourable duke take me for his wretched bastard slaves in the Congo?’ Mathias growled.

‘Gentlemen, please. Your grace, please don’t mind Mathias. Yes, he’s a southerner. He was in king Runeard’s personal guard from what I gather. He may look brutish and imposing, but he’s harmless and dare I say, a halfway decent man. He doesn’t usually interrupt one of my meetings, so this instance must be special. Tell us big boy, what should bother us?’ Yelena finished as she turned to Mathias.

‘I’m sorry. I’m not willing to entertain the stories of a deserter.’, the duke said nonchalantly.

‘As if your pip squeakiness has ever been in a battle to judge a trapped prisoner of war?’ Mathias seethed.

‘See, even he agrees, we’re at war.’ Oh, they were all playing right into my hands, the duke thought with glee.

‘Yes, and now peace must be made. Yelena, this is not the time to go on the offensive. Trust me.’ Mathias faced Yelena as he settled down beside her.

‘Maybe, but it is a peace we would be forced into. We want it on our own terms, Mathias. I understand you’re homesick, but we haven’t had a home to go back to for decades. We will assert our terms onto the king, and he will have to accept it. If he doesn’t, it’s war.’

‘Lofty words, your excellency. Alas, there’s no substance or weight to back your words. You’ll be blockaded soon, and travel by land is impossible anyhow. I suggest you make a permanent settlement here and be done with it.’, the duke laid the bait.

‘And perpetually disturb the peace of the spirits by claiming their sacred forest? Never.’, and Yelena took it.

‘Well, I can’t negotiate such a big difference in your quantity of goods. You’ll have to offer me something if I must continue supporting your struggle. What about lumber from the forest?’

‘You must be reading a fucking comedy. When we refuse to make a permanent settlement in the forest, YOU PROCEED TO SUGGEST SOMETHING FAR WORSE?!’, Mathias had half a mind to strangle the duke right there, when he was stopped by Yelena.

‘Sit down, Mathias! We’re in desperate times. We’ll have to do what we must in order to survive.’

‘Making a bad situation worse is survival?! Can you imagine or fathom withstanding the rage of the spirits if we cut down the forest?! How can you even consider this, Yelena?’

‘If I may ease your concerns, I’ll vouch for the fact that a sacred relic commands a lot of value in the market. Especially amongst those who are powerful, proud, wealthy and don’t ask too many questions. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll introduce a tiny amount in the market. People would recognize it as sacred or magical with plenty of history behind it. Once I do that, I can manipulate the price for it and bring you all the money, all the weapons, all the ships you need.’, the duke reassured the Northuldra leader.

Yelena spoke at length ‘Alright, I agree to the venture. Let’s begin with ten logs.’

Mathias hung his head in defeat and nursed his forehead, which had begun to throb. This is not going to end well.

Yelena tried to comfort him after the duke left ‘Listen, for every tree we cut down, we’ll plant ten, I promise.’

‘Even if you do that, it won’t be the sacred forest of the fifth spirit anymore.’ Mathias said ruefully.

As the duke made his way to the ship waiting off the coast on his rowboat, one of his taciturn guards asked him ‘Your grace, why do we need these bunch of sheep worshippers?’

The duke grinned darkly ‘When a rival nation is at war with itself, best let it consume itself.’

Around the same time, somewhere in northern Greece

‘Rider, move your ass and get over here!’ A portly man called out as he wiped a greasy hand on his apron.

‘Coming, Elios!’ Flynn came running in. He was now a man of seventeen; having seen a fair bit of the world by now and had been working with Elios for a few months. Elios had hidden Flynn to save him from ‘The Hawk’, a notorious smuggler who had trapped him in his ring. In return, Flynn agreed to work for him in his front business.

‘Why must I go through this fucking chore every time? To have to call you up like a fucking parade float to just do your blessed job?’

‘I’m sorry for being two minutes late. I already did the prep for tonight; the bar has been cleaned and stocked. I just took a nap, calm your tits.’

‘I’ve heard that many times, give me something new Flynn’ Elios rolled his eyes.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing? Making merry around the city square? Come on, I know better than that.’

‘Don’t bother lying to me. I swear, one of those women is gonna make you the sacrificial goat someday.’

‘Alright, I heard your speech. Got it, can we move on?’

Elios wiped some sweat off his forehead and asked, ‘You know who’s coming tonight?’

‘Yeah I do, friends loyal to the Greek cause.’ Flynn answered without faltering

‘Not just any friend, mind you. The Gent is coming along with the Sicilians.’

Flynn’s ears perked up at that piece of news. The Gent was a legend in Northern Greece, almost singlehandedly forming the on-land resistance against the Ottomans in the Greek war of independence. He had been involved in the resistance for nearly seven years now and was lobbying for foreign support.

‘Wow, that’s a hero if I ever saw one.’

‘I told you I’ll introduce you to him soon. Today’s the day.’

‘Now, why would he visit an affluent restaurant filled with Turks day in and out, I’m sure I don’t know.’ Flynn stated incuriously.

‘Hey Flynn, let his people worry about it. I’m sure his people would be clever enough to figure it out.’ Elios was a practical man who knew the streets well, however, forethought was not his strongest suit.

‘No, Elios. Hear me out. If the Gent is ambushed here, we’re done for. Everything will be up for grabs and I know neither of us would like the prick of the cold sabre chopping our necks. And if we know The Gent is coming, the officials certainly know. And if the Sicilians find out, you’ll end up wearing concrete shoes, old boy. You may know the gutters and the roads, but I know loyalty.’

‘What do you suppose we do now? We can’t really serve them in public view.’

‘That is true. Tell you what, let’s clear the cellar for their dinner. I’m sure they don’t want any outsider to hear what they are discussing amongst themselves. Also, I think you should serve them personally, Elios.’

‘No can do. I’m the front. If I don’t stay there, they’ll investigate. You’ll have to serve them yourself. I’m sorry Flynn. The Gent trusts me, if he sees that I consider you worthy, he’ll be comfortable.’

But I don’t know the first thing about him and the others. What if I offend them without meaning to?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Flynn. We both know you know better than that. If the service is good, they’ll fill your pockets with enough dosh to set you up for years. If I truly know you, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.’

‘Alright, I’ll do it. Say Elios, what if I warm them personally first about the last-minute change of scenery?’

‘No. I’ll have to warn them myself. Set the cellar up. I did contact them two days ago; I’ll do it again.’

‘Just make sure you’re not followed.’

‘Hey Rider, who knows the street better?’

‘You do, clearly.’

‘Yup. I’ll be back soon.’

A few hours later, a party of people showed up. There was the Gent, a tall slender man, worn down by the hiding and fighting. His face was warm enough, save for the green eyes that could bore holes through the Earth, and a crooked mouth that had a scare across the top lip. Still, he felt like a man who could fight forever. As for the Sicilians, they were something else entirely.

It was a band of seven people. The man most fancily dressed, along with the ruby ring on his little finger and the gold watch and chain, was obviously the leader. The six were presumably his bodyguards, each one burlier and more imposing that the last, looking like killers happy to kill a priest in the middle of a sermon. Ruthless and royal. Dressed to the nines up to their plug caps.

Flynn suddenly felt dwarfed and puny.

‘Gentlemen, this is Flynn, he’s been working with me for a few months, he’ll be serving you tonight.’ Elios gave a short introduction and left. Flynn gave a short bow, not sure how to address these powerful men.

‘What’s your name, green boy?’ The Gent asked.

‘Flynn.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Going to be seventeen next month.’

You’re not from around these parts, are you? Your accent tells me....Austria Hungary?’

‘No sir, Corona. The Rhinelands, to be exact.’ 

‘Uh huh. How’d you end up in Greece?’

‘War orphan from the Napoleonic wars, pushed around all of Europe, ended up here.’ By now, Flynn knew the story by heart.   

‘My condolences. Ok Flynn, you’re going to undergo something unpleasant. Forgive me, just the nature of these times. I need to be sure of your loyalty.’

Before Flynn could reply, one of the goons was upon him, almost choking him with his weight, pressing down on his spine. Even if Flynn had any wind left him, he couldn’t yell.

‘Answer me, why was the room changed at such short notice?’

‘When the Gent asks, you better fucking answer, figlio di sfagato!’

‘Get off him, let him speak.’ The goon got off at once.

Flynn coughed and gasped for air. When he could breathe normally, he said weakly , ‘Mr. Gent, it was Mr. Elios who suggested it.’ Flynn barely finished his sentence before receiving a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him.

‘That’s a lie. Elios is not that big a thinker. You seem to be smarter than you let on. Why’d you try to protect us from the Turks?’

‘I didn’t want them to kill you here. That would be underhanded and filthy. I’ve heard....heard that you believe in engaging them head on, I didn’t want them to ambush you. You’re a hero around here, would be a shame if I couldn’t do my bit for your cause.’ Flynn was hit yet again by the goon, this time in his nose. Blood had begin ebbing from his mouth and nose.

‘You’ve said enough. I can guess the rest of the story. Either betray the Turks and face the sabre or betray us and face getting shot in the face. Why choose us over them?’

‘I gambled here.....I’d rather be loyal to someone fighting the slavers for freedom than the slaver themselves.’ Flynn braced himself for another hit, but the hit never came.

Instead he could hear a chuckle from the Sicilian leader, who had gestured his goon to stand down. He approached Flynn and held him by the cheek, saying in thick accent, ’Felino. That’s your name from now on. Felino the crooked nose. Drinks on the house, all night. Keep the drinks up, you’ll be richer than the sultan come morning. Good boy.’

The leader, or don as they were calling him now, lightly tapped his cheek and went back to his place, settling down with the Gent and the other goons. Flynn left the room and almost crumpled on the floor. I could’ve died there, he thought for a second. Nevertheless, he composed himself and put on his charm; Felino the crooked nose had a job to do.

Ha, the duke of Weselton’s such a bastard, always stirring up shit wherever he goes lol. I love the potential his character has.

Our Man Flynn is serving the big boys now! What could happen?

Thanks again to those who continue reading this silly story :P

As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!

[presumenothing]

call it what you want

the toph and zuko fic that absolutely no one but me asked for (but i asked very nicely so here it is)

beware probable inaccuracies to canon and in descriptions of blindness

(AO3)

i.

On the third morning in a row they wake up like this, they don’t even need to exchange a look before agreeing (though any literal looks would have been one-sided and therefore admittedly moot, considering).

“Emergency measures?”

“Emergency measures,” Zuko confirms, and he doesn’t even startle at the way his voice comes out anymore. It does still take more concentration than it should to shift his feet into position – at least he remembers to go barefoot, now. “Uncle’s already up, I think that’s him in the tearoom upstairs.”

Toph punches him in the arm. Fortunately there isn’t anyone around to witness the (apparent) act of Fire Nation brutality, but also: ouch. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Sparky, I have a reputation to maintain!”

“You’re the one with the firebending now,” Zuko grumbles, not at all under his breath. “Besides, I had to stop you from accidentally sparking off about four separate international incidents yesterday alone, so – hey!”

Toph doesn’t stop pulling Zuko along the corridor, but at least she does slow down, and he suspects the stride hadn’t even been intentional to begin with, just habit from usually being the shortest one in their group.

“Wouldn’t want you forgetting how to do your job, o great Lord Not-Sparky,” she retorts, but there’s no heat in it besides her customary snark, and despite everything Zuko finds himself weirdly grateful that it’s the two of them stuck in this situation and not anyone else.

(That doesn’t stop him from gleefully whispering I told you so! when Uncle turns out to be right where he’d said he would be, but Zuko figures he’s entitled to that much.

And if Toph is rolling her eyes, at least she does it silently, so. It’s a win-win, really.)

.

ii.

The first morning, Toph wakes up with the feeling that something is off, but it isn’t until she opens her eyes (not her first priority upon waking, for obvious reasons) that she realises how off.

It takes her three tries to swing her legs off the side of the bed and onto the floor – how the hell is her depth perception somehow worse with vision? – and the chill of unfamiliarly-patterned tile is what drives it home for her.

Not that the rest of it hadn’t been enough already: Toph knows the dimensions of her own body very well, thank you, because she’d always be running into walls otherwise. And then there’s the matter of not so much what she’s seeing as the fact that she’s seeing it at all, and not in the way she usually means the term.

But anyway. This definitely isn’t the room she fell asleep in, because that one had been heated and this one isn’t at all, because apparently firebenders were above needing or wanting things like cozy heating when they slept, however comfortable it might be. Which means that this is a firebender’s room… unsurprising, since they’re in the Fire Nation and all, but Toph is also starting to suspect that this is Zuko’s room. She’s still trying to figure out the shitton of information her eyes are suddenly tossing at her, but she’s pretty sure that what she eye-sees matches the layout she’d mapped out before with her earthbending – which by the way is definitely missing and not just her feet being temporarily numbed by the cold floor, and it’s not like Toph is freaking out or anything, but.

But. Okay. One thing at a time, Toph decides, and looks around until she spots something that has to be a mirror, hanging on a wall halfway across the room because of course it is.

Several false starts later, she eventually settles on memorising the distance and direction to it, before squeezing her eyes almost shut as she walks so that only a narrow band gets through because honestly, too much information. No wonder sighted people were always so distracted.

Toph only opens her eyes again once she’s finally standing in front of the mirror, and – holy fuck, she thinks.

Not because she’s Zuko. Or not just that, rather, not even that, because she is somehow in a body that she’s certain has to be Zuko’s the same way she’d known this was his room.

She’s heard that the scar on his face is bad, had even felt it for herself – how big it was, how much of his face it covered, raised ridges and unnatural smoothness that she would’ve recognised as wrong even if she hadn’t touched anyone’s face before, but.

But now that she’s seeing it, the scar stands out far more than she ever thought it did, a livid patch stark against the rest of his features that she struggles to tear her gaze away from, and if this is what it means to have sight, have colours, Toph thinks she might not want it anymore.

Which is when she realises that if she’s here in this body it has to mean that – shit. Zuko.

(The first morning, Zuko had woken to utter pitch darkness that refused to abate or even change no matter how many times he blinked or frantically rubbed at his right eye. He’d probably have fallen spectacularly on his face if he’d moved to stand – but Zuko hadn’t even tried to. Couldn’t, not with the blackness pressing down on his limbs like far-too-physical fear.

He’d managed to simultaneously convince himself that Ozai had locked him in some windowless cell for good and thrown away the key, or that he’d finally lost his vision to the burn damage like the medic had warned Uncle might happen all those years ago, in quiet harried words where they thought he couldn’t hear.

Then a hand had landed on his shoulder, and Zuko would’ve startled if there’d been anything left in him to startle, but then a voice – his voice? – had hissed by his ear, and he’d made out the words “Sparky” and “come on” and –

And that hadn’t magically made everything better except in the ways it had, because he still couldn’t figure out what it meant but at least he wasn’t alone in the darkness anymore.)

.

iii.

Really, it’d been plain luck that Toph had woken up so much earlier than usual. Or not, because apparently firebenders woke with the sunrise and she’s a firebender now, and this is already shaping up to be a pain, didn’t Sparky or Uncle ever want to just sleep in until noon?

Apparently not, judging from the way Sparky had already been awake (awake and well into panicking) by the time she located the set of guest rooms that she’d been sleeping in just last night. Firebenders, honestly.

(“It’s habit, I guess?” Sparky had explained afterwards with a sheepish look, so okay, maybe this was more a Lord Rise-and-Shine thing than a general firebender thing.)

Anyway. Whatever the reason, it gives them enough time to figure out a plan before the rest of everybody wakes up, at least once she finally gets Zuko to calm the hell down.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, still breathing in that careful firebendy pattern which would’ve been a dead giveaway to her. But at least he looks not-freaked-out now (in Toph’s definitely nonexpert opinion, anyway) and she figures they can probably depend on most people around them to be as unobservant as they usually are. “Any idea how this happened?”

“Nope. We could always take the day off, see if this fixes itself by tomorrow,” she offers with amazing generosity.

“Absolutely not!” Zuko answers immediately, because – oh yeah, right, workaholic tendencies are another firebender and/or Sparky thing. “I – you – we have a meeting with all the major Fire Nation officials this morning, and there’s that delegation from the colonies after that, and then – ”

(Toph sighs. Couldn’t blame her for trying, at least.)

They end up settling on having Toph-as-Zuko lead Zuko-as-Toph around for now, because Toph has standards, and she refuses to let herself be seen bumping into walls all day long.

Plus, even waking up early hadn’t given them enough time for more than a superspeed crash course on Fire Lording, so of course Zuko insists on staying with her so she doesn’t mess up and offend all the world’s leaders or something.

“One wrong word could – could restart the war,” Zuko squawks like the baby turtleducks that the kitchen staff pretend not to see their Fire Lord regularly stealing bread for.

“Heard you the first twenty times, Your Shortiness,” Toph says breezily, patting his head – and just to be clear, she’s still not gonna forgive Sokka for all the times he’s used her as an elbow rest, but she (or her body, at least) is really just the right height for it.

(There are a few raised eyebrows when the Fire Lord doesn’t walk into the meeting chambers alone, but it probably helps that basically everyone present has other much higher priorities, and most of them are already resigned to the Avatar’s group acting weird by default anyway.

Which is to say that no one questions the arrangement until they break for lunch, and then not even until Aang bounces over to join them from who-knows-where, because Toph’s pretty sure that the A in Aang (and airbender, and Avatar) stands for audacity. “Toph, are you holding on to Zuko’s shirt?”

Toph – actual Toph – opens her mouth to give a bullshit answer, but Zuko beats her to it. “Duh. See, somebody here lost a bet, which means he’s gotta be my seeing-eye person until I say so. Right, Sparky?”

Toph’s reluctantly impressed. Not only had Zuko clearly thought about this, he’d even said it with all the snark she would have, complete with a disturbingly wide grin (she’d looked).

She gives one of those indistinct-but-not-really-upset grumbles that Sparky uses a lot around them, and gradually falls behind the rest of the group so she can elbow him with her own rock-sharp grin (because she can confirm from experience that it’s audible, even if not visible). “I didn’t know you had that in you!”

“Yeah, well.” Sparky rubs the back of his neck, his gaze darting away then back, and there’s no aura of sass about him now. “You handled the meeting pretty well, all things considered. Especially that… Minister Takagi.”

“You can just say ‘asshole’, y’know, it’s not like you’re the Fire Lord right now.” Besides, it’d be way more accurate, with the deliberate way that minister had said something oily and barbed about Ozai that’d gone right over her head but still hit home anyway, judging from the way Zuko had tensed in the seat beside hers.

Toph had simply blinked slowly before savouring the brief but utter look of confusion as she responded to the rest of his speech while outright ignoring the comment like the completely irrelevant bait it clearly was.

Too bad, Minister Asshole. Better luck next time!

(And if her cheeks are vaguely warm from the compliment in the way she knows means a blush, Sparky can’t see right now anyway, so it’s all fine as long as she doesn’t spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

…or from being a firebender. Is that even possible? Hopefully not.)

.

iv.

“But of course,” Uncle says as he refills their teacups. “I would be glad to be your regent while you are on vacation, nephew. You scarcely needed to ask.”

“Like I said, we’re just going to Gaoling to speak with the Beifongs, and so Aang can do his Avatar thing before we route any of the withdrawing troops through there,” Toph says, and Zuko can practically feel the annoyance rolling off her even if it’s for entirely different reasons than his own would’ve been, in the same situation. (It does make for a more convincing act though.) “It’s not a vacation.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Uncle replies with great equanimity, while Zuko tries to figure out if his tea is cool enough to drink now that he can’t judge by the steam rising from it. “It is good to see you taking better care of your health in spite of your heavy responsibilities, nephew. I hear that the clerks are overjoyed to have paperwork delegated to them again!”

Probably about as ecstatic as Toph herself was when she’d heard about that option, Zuko thinks to himself, and snorts at the thought.

(Honestly, it’s not like the paperwork that reaches the Fire Lord’s desk is anywhere near as complicated as the incomprehensible hell of requisition forms Zuko had constantly wrestled with aboard his ship, but Toph had still cheered when all of it got carted away to the clerks’ office. “Why would you go through all that if you didn’t have to? You should’ve done this ages ago!”

“How else was I gonna learn the details of what’s going on?” Zuko had muttered, but he couldn’t blame Toph for this one, since – well. Reading and writing hadn’t been a big part of her education, as she’d put it. “I’d offer to do it myself, but…”

He’d trailed off, then buried his face in his hands because he was not finishing that sentence, because Toph Beifong might be the greatest earthbender of all time but she’s also the worst influence to ever exist and apparently Zuko isn’t even good at cracking blind jokes anyway. And he didn’t even know whose expense it’d be at, right now.

Toph had just cackled like she’d known what he was thinking anyway.)

They manage to make their escape from Uncle almost one and a half pots of tea later.

“Is it just me,” Zuko begins hesitantly once they’re a safe distance down the corridor, “or did you also get the feeling that – ”

“He knows?” Toph sounds like she’s frowning. “Yeah. I mean, I guess it’s not a big deal if he of all people finds out – but how, though? He’s barely even been around the palace since this started!”

“Maybe he could… see it or something, I dunno.” Zuko shrugs. “Uncle’s been to the Spirit World before, he did say some stuff about it changing his awareness of things.”

“But he’s not the only one who’s been there,” Toph points out, before they both contemplate Aang for a moment. “Though maybe the only one without the attention span of a catterfly, yeah.”

(“Which reminds me, when’s Sweetness due back from the North Pole?”

“Katara? In another ten days, if everything goes to plan. Why?”

“Because I’m gonna have her fix this shitty heartbeat of yours, I don’t even care if we’ve swapped back by then! I already thought it sounded weird after the whole lightning thing, and you keep saying that it’s fine but this is really not normal, we’re just lucky you haven’t had a heart attack doing your morning exercises or something equally ridiculous–”)

.

v.

They tell Aang what happened once Appa is up in the air and en route to Gaoling, but the airbender still sounds disbelieving for once, even after they land early to train and set up camp.

“Okay, you got me, very funny, no way you actually switched b– huh.” Aang pauses, even keeps still for a moment. “Huh. You’re being serious.”

Zuko doesn’t need earthbending to recognise the sound of Toph tapping her foot, and probably crossing her arms too. “Care to enlighten us, Twinkletoes?”

Aang bursts out laughing at that, so the nickname probably sounds as weird to him in Zuko’s voice as it does to Zuko himself, though he goes back to being thoughtful afterwards. “I can see it a little if I concentrate, yeah – maybe it’s an effect of the energybending, I dunno. Your colours are a little different to the usual earthbender and firebender ones, and I don’t think they were like that before.”

Zuko’s pretty sure Toph is thinking the same thing he is (that still doesn’t explain how Uncle found out) but out loud he only says, “Can we get started now, if you’re done talking Avatar stuff?”

“Right!” Aang agrees with an enthusiastic bounce, and Zuko now really understands why Toph gave him that nickname. “So Zuko, you need me to teach you how to earthbend like you’re actually Toph, and not you pretending to be Toph and earthbending like how you think Toph earthbends–”

“Yes, Aang,” he interrupts, trying to sound longsuffering instead of laughing, then points unerringly at where Toph is lifting a foot. “And you’re not going barefoot, Toph, I have a reputation to maintain!”

“It’s not like anyone’s looking,” Toph mutters, but her shoes are still on when she puts her leg back down.

(“Honestly, Zuko, I’m really impressed,” Aang says as Toph lights the campfire for dinner, and this probably shouldn’t feel comfortingly nostalgic but it does. “I mean, it’s obvious now that I know what’s going on, but you’ve actually been navigating really well? I think I’d have taken way longer to adapt if I had to see by earthbending alone, and I already know earthbending.”

“It’s surprisingly intuitive once you get the hang of it. And I think Toph’s muscle memory stuck or something, otherwise I’d probably still be running into walls. Well, more walls,” Zuko amends. “Besides, I guess it’s sort of like when I was adjusting my newly shitty vision, after – after what Ozai did.”

Zuko’s briefly proud of himself when he barely even stumbles over that last part, until he realises that Toph has gone still across from him, and there’s an alarming flash of heat that probably isn’t the campfire.

“Uh.” Aang sounds alarmed, and like he’s staring. “Toph…?”

“Are you seriously telling me,” Toph grits out between her teeth, “that my depth perception is so fucked up because you only have half your vision left.”

“It’s really closer to seventy percent,” Zuko answers on reflex even as he facepalms both internally and externally because how in the name of Agni had he forgotten to tell Toph about this? Yes, it would’ve been obvious to anyone else, and it’s simple fact to Zuko by this point, but of course Toph of all people wouldn’t have realised that his eyesight was abnormal seeing as (ha) she’d never had vision before.

The ground trembles from sudden stomping. “That’s it, forget Gaoling, we’re going back to the capital now so I can kick Scumbag Lord’s ass all over again – and no using earthbending against me, Twinkletoes!”)

.

0.

“Do you miss it?” Zuko asks, later that night.

No answer comes for a long moment, and he’s starting to wonder if Toph’s fallen asleep when he feels the rustle of her turning over.

“Which part, the earthbending? Or being a blind and helpless twelve-year-old girl?” The air quotes around those words are perfectly audible even if he can’t see them, but neither of them have ever been much for rhetorical questions anyway so Toph barrels right on. “One more than the other, and you’re damned lucky I’m well-educated nobility or I’d have thrown up all over your court etiquette by now.”

Zuko tries to imagine Katara or Sokka (or possibly worse yet, Aang) trying to act as the Fire Lord and winces – they’re amazing people and Zuko cares for them more than he knows what to do with, but he’s also heard all about Sapphire and Wang Fire by now, and just. No. “Thanks for that, Toph, you’ve been doing a great job.”

Toph punches him in the arm instead of saying you’re welcome like a normal person. “No need to sound so surprised. You?”

“Hm?” he asks, before his brain catches up with his mouth a moment later. “Oh. I…”

Does he miss it, being the banished prince turned Fire Lord? Being not just Zuko but Zuko, son of Ursa and Ozai and everything that meant?

Does he miss having people look at him and see the scar on his face before everything else, see the pure golden eyes and assume everything it implied? (Not that he knew for sure how people looked at him now, not literally – but he’d seen enough of how they looked at Toph before, and it was always underestimation rather than exaggeration. And if it’d been just a year ago he would’ve been furious at that but now? Now, he’s still offended on Toph’s behalf because it’s not fair, it really isn’t, but he’s… surprisingly okay with it, otherwise.)

Does he miss fire dancing on his palm, sun-warm but never burning?

“…not as much as I expected,” Zuko says finally, and he doesn’t know how much time has passed but he can feel Toph listening for an answer anyway. “Except for the firebending, but I guess earth’s not too bad either.”

(Zuko doesn’t think he’s ever going to react anything but poorly to people touching him without warning no matter whose body he’s in, it’s a fact he’s fairly resigned to – but Toph’s earthbending means that pretty much no one but airbenders can really take him by surprise, and there’s only one of Aang. Fortunately.)

Toph snorts in a manner unbecoming of either lady or Fire Lord. “Well, fire sucks. If this keeps up, I might just have to become the greatest firebender of all time, too.”

Zuko laughs. “I look forward to it,” he says sincerely – this is the earthbender who’d learned from badgermoles, after all, even if she’s also busy snickering at his unintentional pun. “Tell Aang to bring you to go meet the dragons sometime, I think you’d love them.”

“Please. I’d rather ask Uncle instead, Twinkletoes would just be distracting.” Fair point. “And you’re coming with.”

The Sun Warriors might sooner feed an earthbender to the dragons rather than grant an audience with them, but Zuko nods anyway. “Alright. Good night, Toph.”

“Night, Sparky,” comes the mumble in reply, already half-asleep, and Zuko closes his eyes.

.

.

.

[drakewalkerisreal]

& the two shall become one

This is an abstract from the whole story swirling in my mind. The Lighthouse was also a part of it. I wish to write and post the whole story someday. Once again, English is not my native language so please forgive me for bad english.

DRAKE×MC

Warnings:None

I took a deep breath right before the doors opened. Hana handed me the bouquet. Maxwell’s arm kept me steadied as I moved with him through the door. I tried to make eye contact and smiling at a few people. Every eye turned towards me but mine was looking for only those pair of brown eyes. Up ahead at altar I saw him- my future husband, the love of my life, my everything. He stood tall in his blue suit making him handsome than ever. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and he looked into mine. He looked as nervous as me. In that moment, the world stilled. Is this really happening? He tilted his head slightly upwards as if asking “you okay?”. No I am not, please catch me I am going to faint. I nodded and smiled weakly. He smiled too with his eyes shining bright. If I wasn’t mistaken I could have sworn tears filled his eyes.

I was waiting for her at the altar. Her dress, veil, hair, makeup was perfect and she looked so pure and heavenly. When I saw her moving towards me with Maxwell my breath went away, and I sucked in a big gulp of air because she was such a vision. I thought, this is what people mean when they say, She took my breath away. You're not breathing. You're not breathing. You still aren't breathing. Ouch, fuck, why does my chest hurt? Holy shit, there's a huge lump in my throat. She looked nervous too. Hell! I have reasons of getting nervous coz I am a lucky basturd and she chose me of all the men in the world. Why is she nervous? Is she confused? Don’t tell me she doesn’t want it coz I can’t live without her. She is everything. I asked her with little gesture “You okay?”. She nodded. Thank god. She still wanted it. I tried to keep away the water from my eyes.

At the end of the aisle Maxwell said “I ‘m proud of you” and then presented me to my husband to be. He placed my hand in Drake’s and smiled. As a couple, Drake and I stood in front of the priest. Before leaving, Maxwell patted Drake on his shoulder and he nodded. That was their mutual understanding of leaving behind all the grudges in the past. Standing next to my love felt overwhelming. Was this really happening? Will I soon be Mrs. Walker? The minister said to guests, “You can now be seated”. All followed his request.

“Dearly beloved,” he began, “we are gathered here this evening to witness this man and woman join together in holy matrimony.”

He said the speech and then we exchanged vows:

Drake Walker: Brooks. Riley. When we first me I never imagined this day would come. I did not treat you good coz I never wanted to fall in love. But when you broke all the walls I created around myself, I fall in love with you so hard that now I couldn't imagine my life without you. Brooks when I am with you, I am the best version of myself . I feel overwhelmingly lucky and proud to be standing beside you today. Thank you for accepting me even when I am not worthy of you and have failed you many times. Thank you for knowing that I am grumpy and moody sometimes. Thank you for always supporting and loving me, unconditionally, I know I haven’t always made that easy. I know on that fact alone, you’re going to make an amazing mother to our children someday. I vow to always do my best to give more than I take. I vow to continuously work on myself, and to be the man you want and deserve. I can't imagine where I would be without you.

Riley Brooks: Drake Walker, That night at the bar in New York I didn’t know that I was going to meet love of my life. Our start was a li’l bumpy but when I got more of you, I found a loyal friend, a true companion and a fierce protector. Drake, When I look into your eyes I don’t see perfection. You’re annoying, you’re hilarious, you make me yell, you drive me crazy, you’re out of your mind but you’re everything I want. When I look into you, I see someone who will fight for me, protect me and love me like nobody did before. You were the one who almost sacrificed his life for me. I have already fell in love with you a long time ago. I knew I am in love when home went from being a place to being a person. When I look into you I see home, wherever you’re that’s my home. But when you took that bullet for me I gave you the ownership of my life. Drake I would choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you & I’d choose you. I love you.

We were looking into each other and trying to delay welling tears.

Bartie came forward with his small steps with Savannah holding his hand as The ring bearer and presented the rings. I placed his ring on first, then he placed on mine. I took in the sight of the rings. Oh God, its real. I looked into him and he his eyes were mirroring my emotions.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Drake leaned in and put his lips on mine. I held the lapels of his suit jacket savouring the kiss. Then he cupped my cheeks and captured my lips completely like he’s never done it before. Everyone cheered for us, however he barely noticed; his full attention rested on me. I couldn’t restrain more and broke into tears and he held me like he always did. He wiped my tears and rested his forehead on mine with his arms holding my back. At that moment, we knew nothing else mattered anymore. What matter is I have you & you have me.

@drakewalkerwhipped

@drakewalker04 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @emceesynonymroll @star-spangled-eyes @dcbbw    @jovialyouthmusic @drakesensworld   @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @ao719 @duchessemersynwalker

@pug-bitch   @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @iplaydrake   @katedrakeohd   @nikkis1983 @qween-corgis @thorfosterlove @moneyfordiamonds @butindeed

[aristccrvcy]

( gavin leatherwood, trans male, he/him, fire emblem: three houses ) * &. i know it must be scary for you, ferdinand von aegir, after surviving the takeover. to turn into someone like aeric-ferdinand “ferdie” vittori, a twenty-four year-old actor at castle town centre of theatre & dance, right here in castle town. just remember that you are as sincere as you are opinionated, and to be wary, be safe, be true to who you are : neutral through and through. ( hylia )

         i could never drop him i just. i could Not. i rly couldn’t but i DID ..... want to revamp him a bit so here’s take two on ferdie !! politics, war, death, & divorce tw under the cut !!

BEFORE THE SNAP.  /  F E R D I N A N D  V O N  A E G I R 

So alright. Chances are , if you’ve heard of Ferdinand , it’s because you’ve heard the infamous ‘ I am Ferdinand von Aegir ! �� quote goin’ around which . . . attributes from. Him introducing himself every time you select him on the battlefield in FE3H. Don’t believe me ?? WATCH. 

...u don’t need to watch that whole thing I’m just tryna get the meme out of the way before I talk abt everything else.

BC ALL JOKES ASIDE I HONESTLY LOVE FERDINAND SOOO MUCH n I promise I’ll take him seriously bc holy fucking shit this character is my babyyyy.

So for STARTERS. Ferdinand is the legitimate son of House Aegir in the Adrestian Empire , which is the house that produces the Empire’s Prime Ministers. Now , here’s the thing ; Ferdinand himself isn’t involved in any of this , but thanks to the Adrestian nobles pretty much stripping the Emperor of their power in the past . . . the Aegir house ( much like the other houses , but Duke Aegir’s implied to have like , spearheaded it ) is pretty damn corrupt.

NOT FERDINAND , THOUGH , considering Ferdinand is actually someone who has very opposing views to his father. Ferdinand , in a nutshell , is basically the snobby noble trope you’re expecting turned upside down crossed over with a Disney prince. That’s the best way i can describe him.

Ferdinand is very aware of his noble status , but he is very steadfast in his opinion of what is truly means to be a noble. He’s well-aware of the difference between nobles & commoners , but where you’d expect him to use that to degrade people of lesser status , he . . . doesn’t. 

Ferdinand strongly believes the duties of a noble constitute of protecting & helping the common people , and that is why they’re so high in status - they’re there to assist and make things better , and not to make things worse , and it absolutely sickens him to his core when there are corrupt nobles who very clearly use their power for selfish & malicious gain. 

Like , he’s confident - he’s very confident and sure of himself , but he isn’t a dick ( in that sense ; he can be kind of a dick , don’t get me wrong ) about it. He’s actually extremely polite & respectful , very kind & genuine - like I really don’t think lying is something that this boy is capable of doing , I really don’t. But he’s humble in the sense that he isn’t afraid to admit when he did something wrong , or that he needs to apologize - IN FACT , a lot of his supports have him apologize for approaching someone wrongly or when he’s accused of something.

One example , he has a support with Dorothea where she tells him that she hates him , and instead of fighting her on it , what he does is he tries to figure out why she hates him so he can better himself and fix something he did wrong. 

Another example , his B-support with Bernadetta has him apologize for spooking her , and he respects her comfort levels by speaking to her on the other side of the door to her room because now he understands that Bernadetta feels extremely scared & uncomfortable during confrontation.

LIKE . . . okay , in the simplest of words , Ferdinand is just good. He’s a good person and he tries his hardest to be better if someone brings it to his attention that he’s doing something wrong.

BUT ALSO . . . the thing is , Ferdinand is also extremely opinionated to the point where he’ll share his thoughts even if not asked ; and sometimes , it comes out. Dickish. Like , really , he’ll criticize anyone if he believes he should because he hates the idea of someone who doesn’t - exemplified in the beginning of his supports with Hubert , where he condemns Hubert for not openly criticizing Edelgard but Ferdinand’s criticism can come out . . . harsh. Like , he’s respectful still , but he’s harsh. And that is because Ferdinand firmly believes in speaking his mind.

His determination also makes him stubborn & extremely competitive to a point where it becomes damn near annoying and this is , because again , he always strives to better himself - even going as far as to declare Edelgard his rival when she . . . really doesn’t think of him as one , and then he gets his ass kicked and runs with his tail between his legs because he lost. He’s. He’s competitive. I will not lie to you. Like he’s great but aLSO... this guy doesn’t. Know. When to let go.

Bt yeah in a nutshell - Ferdinand is a rich guy who criticizes other rich guys for being jerks and not caring abt other people , and he can come off as a dick but ultimately he means well & he is a LOT better than some of these other assholes out there. Ferdinand’s.... he’s just GOOD. 

Bt now that I have the basis of his character out of the way , I want to mention that a major change about him is that I’m changing what route I’m pulling him from - originally , I pulled him from Azure Moon , where if you don’t recruit him you have to kill him at the Great Bridge of Myrddin. So instead , now , I’ll be pulling him from Crimson Flower , where he’s still sided with Edelgard but now she has Byleth & she’s triumphant and everything’s okay on the Empire’s end. But - in other routes - while he’s still with Edelgard , he unfortunately doesn’t make it so if u have AM or VW muses . . . Ferdie didn’t make it.

BUT THAT’S WHAT MAKES THESE THINGS INTERESTINGGGGG and I love it so for that reason ,,, shoves. Ferdinand. In everyone’s direction.

AFTER THE SNAP.  /  A E R I C - F E R D I N A N D  “ F E R D I E ”  V I T T O R I

So the more major changes from his pre-revamp portrayal lie in his CT life - his name’s changed , his occupation’s changed , and almost his entire whole past has changed.

Aeric-Ferdinand Vittori was the only child of a film actor & stage actress , pretty famous people , and he was born with the spotlight on him immediately given that he scored his first role as a child at six years old. Since then , he never really had much of an easy time.

His big break was as a teenager in a teen drama that lasted from when he was fourteen to when he was nineteen , the co-star of a vampire television drama in where his character was a fan-favorite. He ultimately left the show and his character was killed off , and he had some starring roles in other movies & the like before he ultimately moved to Broadway. And in that , he had a bit of an easier time , but he would still often feel like he was about to crack under pressure since all eyes were still on him. He was known as a talented young man with a beautiful singing voice , and unfortunately , everyone wants something to do with you when you have something like that.

His parents were also always in the spotlight because of their very public divorce , and it started to bleed into Ferdinand’s career & public image as well with many people poking their nose into his life and asking his opinion on it. Multiple scandals came out claiming that he leaned one way or the other during it and ultimately , that ruined his relationship with his parents. So at twenty-three , he left the Broadway spotlight , and decided to step out of any light in general for a while.

Settling down in Castle Town , a place where nobody bothered to look , was a good start.

He still loved performing , so he worked as an actor at the local theatre on stage - trying his hardest not to get the big roles and take those up , because he was still a relatively big name & when you’re a big name , people lean into their biases.

And then . . . at this point was where he “woke up”. Because his whole past was fake - but there’s always a point where you realize it is.

He had a girlfriend in Castle Town beforehand that he broke up with due to his paranoia that she’d get caught up in the publicity that he did - Nerissa. And he had parents that he didn’t even talk to anymore , and it threw him for a loop because he was reminded of his father back in Adrestia. And suddenly , he’s no longer a soldier or a noble , but with his celebrity status , he’s basically the closest there is to modern nobility at this point.

So . . . Ferdinand feels. Strange. He always loved the opera & he always loved performances but he never thought of himself as someone who would actually do so. It’s strange , but he likes it.

So now , he’s trying to figure out exactly what the hell happened and how he got here and he’s grown pretty used to people not remembering who he is , but it still . . . hurts.

And THAT is where I end this !! I’m gonna go back 2 my plotting DMs and message more ppl but if this gives u some ideas pls do hit me up bc I love Ferdie SOOOO MUCH and I’m excited for his revamp !!

Also if ur curious ab his old intro still I’ll link it here bc there’s probably some pre-snap stuff I forgot in here that’s in there so !! yes. i’ll b around n will probs try n get an open up soon !!

[omfgtrump]

Bow Wow

Aide: Mr. President, we have some important information to discuss with you.

The Don: Is it really important, as I still have 5 holes to go. That was some shot I just hit off the tee, wasn’t it?

Aide: Yes, Mr. President, but I am confused how the ball wound up 30 feet from the green?

The Don: Are you accusing me of cheating?

Aide: Of course not Mr. President. You, cheat?

The Don: I am the most honest person in the world.

Aide: Absolutely, Mr. President.

The Don: And I have the evidence of my prodigious shot. Hey Lindsey, did you see my last shot off the tee. My caddie has some doubts about it.

Lindsey Graham: Mr. President, I watched in disbelief as that ball soared above the trees and landed near the hole. I was dumbfounded. My shot is still 200 yards from the hole.

The Don: Lindsey, you’re a wuss…So what is this important information?

Aide: I was told to tell you that you need to be briefed about options for Iran and it is time to “Wag the Dog.”

The Don: You want me to get off the golf course to wag a fucking dog? You know I hate dogs. Why would I want to wag one? The sight of one makes me sick. Slimy, smelly, attention seeking. Pet me, pet me!  Which general told you that as I am going to fire him?

Aide: It was actually Pompeo.

The Don: Can’t fire him. He knows too much. You know, the Ukraine thing, the illegal impeachment thing. Well go back and tell Pompeo that there is no way I am stopping my golf game to wag a dog. The only dog I ever want to be around is Conan, the one that helped killed that scum Baghdadi Even so, what the hell does it even mean to wag a dog?

Graham: The expression comes from the saying that ‘a dog is smarter than its tail’, but if the tail were smarter, then the tail would ‘wag the dog’.

The Don: What the hell does that mean?

Graham: It comes down to creating a diversion so what seems like the most obvious thing to look at becomes replaced by something else. If the tail of a dog was shaking the dog’s body you would say: ‘holy shit, look at that; the tail of the dog is wagging the dog’s body.’

Funny thing is that there was a movie called “Wag the Dog” that starred one of your favorites, Robert De Niro, who plays someone who is helping the president with his message to the American people.

The Don: I don’t find that funny Lindsey. That no-talent bastard. Don’t ever mention his name in front of me again. It’s almost as bad as the curse word Obama.

Graham: Never again, Mr. President.  Fuck De Niro. But back to wagging the dog. You know how you hate the impeachment thing. And don’t worry Mr. President, we will make sure you are vindicated. But you don’t want the country focusing too much on that, so if you do something to distract people’s attention, then it helps you.

The Don: That’s good. And I am the master of distraction, so I love it. So who are we wagging?

Graham: Iran? After all, they just stormed our embassy and humiliated us.  You were pretty steamed at your New Year’s soiree about it, which by the way was a blast and once again, I want to thank you for inviting me. Also, it was such an honor to be at the same table as, Eddie Gallagher, the Navy Seal you pardoned. What an American hero.

The Don: Shush up Lindsey. Your groveling is distracting me from making this eagle putt. And why are you talking about seals now, I thought we were talking about dogs?

Graham: We were Mr. Pr…

The Don: Shush. If you make me miss this put Lindsey, I will expose you for you know what.

(The Don putts and misses.)

The Don: Lindsey, you saw it with your own eyes. Two shots on a 400 yard hole. Take that Jack Nicklaus!

Lindsey: Mr. President that was one of the greatest holes ever played.

The Don: So now, remind me. Were we talking dogs or seals?

Pompeo: Hi Mr. President. Lindsey told me all about your golf game today. Must admit, at first I was a bit skeptical that you two holed a 400 hundred yarder, but Lindsey has the evidence.

The Don: I hear you want me to wag a dog. (Wink, wink)

Pompeo: We have intel (wink, wink) that this bad ass Sulaimani is planning to take some actions that will put American lives at risk.

The Don: From the intelligence community?

Pompeo: Yes, Mr. President.

The Don: But I don’t believe anything  our intelligence people tell me. They are still blaming Putin for intervening in my election and it is clear that it was Ukraine.

Pompeo: I understand what you are saying but we need some intel to allow us to move forward. Rest assured Mr. President, this evidence is kind of like Lindsey’s evidence regarding your golf today. Also, Pence has ‘Lindsey’ kind of evidence that ties Sulaimani to the 9/11 attacks.

The Don: So we really have the goods.

Pompeo; Absolutely. In fact, I have already contacted Russian Foreign Minister Lavrov to let him know what we are doing. And I  heard you spoke to Putin a few days ago.

The Don: Yeah, and Putin says hi. And I really like Lavie. We had a real blast in the oval office a few years ago and the best part is no one even knew he was there until Russia’s media leaked it.

The Don: Anyone in Congress been informed besides my caddie, oops, I mean my buddy, Lindsey?

Pompeo: Of course not.

The Don: Does any other country know our plans?

Pompeo: Of course not.

The Don: Even Bibi?

Pompeo: Nope. Mr. President, not only will you be moving impeachment off the front page, but you will be seen as strong and an American hero.

The Don: Let’s take the motherfucker out then. But one question. Aren’t some going to want to see evidence of an imminent attack to justify this?

Pompeo: Well, let’s put it this way. You have been a master at denying access to evidence regarding the Ukraine thing so we will just keep with the program.

The Don: I have an idea. If it gets too hot, I will call up Bibi and tell him we will withhold military aide until he goes public that the intel was shared with him.

Pompeo: Mr. President, you are brilliant!

The Don: A great genius. That’s what they say about me. Now that we’ve decided to “Wag the Dog,” I would like to put my tail down on the couch and watch some football. Just buzz when the deed is done and I’ll switch to Fox News and watch them hail me as the greatest American president.

Pompeo: Mr. President, it is an honor to serve with such a visionary and American Hero.

The Don: (Turns on TV and sounds of football- helmets crashing.) Wow, did you see that hit? I just love those animals.

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