#this looks so pure but their story is dark af

[eliseliedl]

Rain is the cloud's farewell to the sky When we meet again, I'll bring flowers Exchange with you, the first verse Hold my hand When fingers touch, I will give you a garden In our tiny kindgdom I will bear all the thorns for you Horla, I am the garden and you are the spring MORIMENS (2024)

[thedreadvampy]

I mean sure, I can understand this perspective, but I'm not sure whether most people feel less shaken to be thrust into conversations about "self-unaliving" than conversations about "suicide"

and I for one as a survivor would much rather unexpectedly encounter somebody talking about "rape" than somebody talking about how funny it is to have sex with somebody when they don't want to, a normal thing that doesn't need to be named because it's So Normal.

which is to say. this is a post about words. the words are not the distressing thing about the discussion. the distressing thing is the distressing thing about the discussion. sugarcoating, dodging or renaming the distressing thing doesn't make it less distressing but it DOES often make it harder to have a frank discussion about it or address it in serious terms.

[pinch of salt: solid probability from their blog that this person is a Literal 14 Year Old and the perspective from 30 and 14 are very different. I do stand by all the points I'm making but I think this conversation lands a lot different for people at different life stages - there is something to be said for the general issue that the internet has flattened social groups to the degree that I as a 30 year old can make a post to my audience of largely adult millennials that immediately enters the same conversational space as people half my age and still in school. that seems. ungreat. as the primary way we engage in conversation. but I don't have solutions to offer.]

you gotta be able to say "die"

you gotta be able to say "suicide"

you gotta be able to talk about "sex"

they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE

because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.

even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"

like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

Twst x Obey me!AFAB!reader

(Reader is Ob's MC)

CW:

•NO APPEARANCE SPECIFIED FOR READER.

•Poly.

•Cursing.

•Reader is referred to as "you" or they/them and even "he/him" because NRC boys refer to any living humanoid in the school as a male by default.

•Crowley.

•It's my first time writing a fanfiction, pls tell me if I should continue writing this.

(Random pic go brr—)

What will happen when a perpetually hungry-for-cuddles and tired-of-this-shit hooman gets kidnapped by a motherfucking horse and decides (kinda? Yeah nope. This wasn't by choice.) to enroll in a school full of problematic kids and their irresponsible af headmage?

Chaos. Pure and utter chaos with a lot of high-end simping in the mix (Along with the slightly unhinged urge to commit arson and burn a bitch to crisp)

So read as [y/n] tries to run away from the school-life while trying to just get back to their goddamn harem family (God saw this thought and decided that giving y/n more harem members is the appropriate course of action), all while juggling the harsh responsibilities of being a guardian, babysitter, therapist, healer, protector, local crush and celebrity for poor Yuu and the entirety of NRC.

("Pls send help" — y/n)

• • • • •

Disclaimer: You may have been kidnapped to a whole 'nother world and you may be on the verge of a mental breakdown, but you're sure as hell gonna look hot and serve cunt while you go through all your problems.

Prologue: 1

IMPORTANT: Mc will be referred to as they/them in this story, but in these beginning chapters a lot of people will refer to mc as a dude because y'know; NRC is an ALL BOYS school and nrc students came to expect that those in the school are all boys.(this'll change dw)

In order to avoid confusion, every time that the MC is addressed by others as he/him or more; I will color it blue. why blue? I find it easier to read.

Sample; 'He turned to them.'

The "He" in this passage is referring to MC because the character referring to them thinks that they're a guy.

REMINDER: This is Fanfiction! Not everything will be the same as canon because of this thing called the 'butterfly effect'.

• • • •

The Dorm Leaders + lilia were just about to call this Opening Ceremony over.

So close to getting out of this hall and finally being able to go on their merry ways to escort the new students back to their respective dorms before the hectic-ness of preparing for hours starts to catch up to them.

Though, things are never quite that easy in NRC.

A commotion with the students quite far from them leaves the majority of them annoyed/disgruntled. (Kalim is just confused and curious)

The headmaster rushes to check what was wrong only for a student to point out that there is an unopened coffin floating in a shadowy part of the hall.

Armed with the desire to get this shit over with and to avoid embarrassment from missing a coffin when he was going around opening them and also, with Yuu waiting near the mirror, the headmaster opens the coffin to wake the new student inside.

The dorm leaders walked closer to be able to quickly usher the new student to the dark mirror only to notice that the headmaster froze up.

"...Headmaster? Are you alright?" Azul "Boutta-do-sumthin-devious" Ashengrotto asked with faux concern.

"Ah– Ah yes! I'm alright Mr. Ashengrotto."

Crowley the bitch cleared his throat and reached inside the coffin to wake the student up.

"Hmm..."

The dorm leaders subconsciously or not, peaked inside the coffin before getting gobsmacked by the sleeping student.

Sure, the student looked quite cute ("New potential apple locked in" — Vil.) even with half of his face obstructed but what really drew their attention were the jewelries that he was wearing.

Three luxurious looking earrings on each of his ears, all unique from each other, all with a respective color and design except for that one earring with two gemstones connected to it, orange and indigo. Seven gems, six earrings

An ornament on his forehead that looks to be a combination of a circlet and a Ferronnière made from gold, with intricate black bat-like wings surrounding the red gemstone in the middle.

And that's just the jewelry on his head.

There's also the sleek black choker with a golden sheen on his neck with a teal gemstone surrounded by small diamonds hanging in the middle.

They don't know if this guy has anymore but the jewels they can see for now is more than enough for them to make the deduction that this student has some alot of money on his hands.

No wonder the Headmaster froze up.

Azul subconsciously starts fixing up his appearance when he starts to wake up, wanting to make a good impression on a potential, rich victim client.

• • • •

"Mmh... What the hell.. Why is the bed so hard.."

You mumbled as you stirred, feeling someone lightly shaking you awake.

You opened your eyes, expecting maybe the brothers, solomon, dia, barbs, simeon or luke but you were instead met with a face obscured by a dark bird mask.

"..."

"..."

"You have two seconds to unhand me before you lose your hands." or your life. Depends on who I can summon first.

You made your voice as cold and unwelcoming as possible as the man with the bird mask squawked and backed away a bit in shock.

"H– How rude..! I'll have you know that I was only–"

"Where am I?"

You cut off the weird looking bird-man as you scanned your surroundings and moved to come out of the coffin why were you in a coffin? you were in, in fear of it closing and locking you inside.

You glance warily to the bird-man while keeping an eye on the huge number of robed individuals that you can see. are you in a cult? Damnit, did one of the Brothers' crazy cults decide to kidnap you out of jealousy again??

Especially the seven (reminder that lilia is there with the Housewardens) closest to you and bird-dude.

Some solomon-kinnie motherfucker is currently eyeing you down like he's about to sell your kidneys to the black market or something.. Hmm... Your fight or flight instincts are telling you to sell HIS kidneys instead.

*Ehem*

Burd-dude cleared his throat and addresses you.

"It seems that the teleportation magic has left you disoriented... No matter, I can forgive your offense of trying to threaten me for I am gracious!"

He then looked weirdly like a combination of preening peacock and a proud chicken.

"I repeat. Where in the unholy trinity of the three realms, am I?"

Now that raised a few eyebrows.

You feel for the necklace under your clothes that Thirteen gave you, filing the question of why you're also wearing the same robe as these people away, in your head.

While the guy that you now dub-thee as "bird-bitch" started gawking at you and going on a tangent of being disrespectful, you scan the big hall/room you're in looking for ways to escape.

• • • •

Hmm... This new student seems to be a knowledgeable individual.

Lilia kept his gaze on the student, studying how he took on a defensive stance the moment he got out of the coffin.

They need to calm this student quickly before something happens.

The student seems to be confused on why he's here and is looking for a way to get out.

If the way his eyes moved around the room in quick succession is any indicator.

Not the first time that something like this happens but add in the magicless student's appearance, he gets the feeling that something strange will occur once again.

Seeing him take out and grasp the palm-sized gemstone of a whole 'nother necklace hidden under his robe how many trinkets does this boy have??, Lilia got ready to jump in the fray should something happen.

There's a possibility that the student can use that necklace as a weapon if that was what he chose to hold in this situation and not his other shiny ornaments.

Lilia was proven right when the necklace and the gemstone glowed and formed into a fancy-looking staff that the student quickly pointed towards Crowley.

He looked at the dorm leaders around him to see if any of them will do something.

...

yeah no. If anything, they look like they're watching an amusing show. Especially Schoenheit and Kingscholar..

Though it seems more like Riddle is still assessing the situation before he brings out his infamous collar.

Haahh.. Youngsters these days..

Chapter list | → PROLOGUE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

Elae: Sorry if my grammar is off, English isn't my first language.

Btw, Thanks for reading this far! Hope you enjoyed it😊

Srry if my format is also off, I've only been using tumblr for a few days now...

MOST IMPORTANTLY; Should I continue reading this fanfic? I wanna know if people still read Obey mexTwst stories here...

[pennyellee]

champagne confetti

title: champagne confetti pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: tba release date: january 2024

prompt 1: you won’t regret me, champagne confetti — i wanna see it in motion, in 3D prompt 2: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, spanking, emotional distress, teasing, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, oral (fem receiving), creampie, soft yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, biting marks, bruises, manipulation

author's note: Hello chummers!!! I know that some of you are waiting when I'll drop Lacrimosa chapter 6 but I promise that it is going to come! Meanwhile I wanted to announce another story I'm working on! Here's champagne confetti that I hope to publish around November-Decemeber. Miss you all and love you all ♥

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

main masterlist

Two arms were suddenly laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He does this way too often that you got used to it. It’s either his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking very closely into your eyes.

“We’re almost done.” He whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook's grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn't decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me than, in bedroom — preferably " he suggested, his lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

"I don’t think so, you’re beyond help," you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn't afford to let him undermine that you’re in charge.

read here

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: if you want to be notified once the full story will be up for reading, you can write in the comments and i'll create a taglist!

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

AFS: Deleted Scene

a/n: I'm testing a new thing here. There are a few scenes that I wanted to include in the story but there wasn't a good spot to fit it in and keep my plotlines at a good pace. SO, I will be posting the occasional deleted scene! They'll typically be short little drabbles that I post sporadically and I'll always list a number to kind of tell you where it sits in the 'AFS' timeline lol

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluffy fluff

Word Count: 1,101

Summary: Grogu is an artist and he does not restrict himself to a single medium. Inspired by this post/art.

.

#4.5: HE IS A QUICK ONE

.

You hummed a song under your breath while cleaning the kitchen. Mando had told you time and time again that house work wasn’t necessarily part of your job description. Though you didn’t think was accurate. You didn’t know a lot about the responsibilities of a nanny, but if you were a betting woman you’d put credits on housework falling under the umbrella. So, despite him telling you to leave it be, you didn’t. Even if it wasn’t the job of the nanny to clean the house, you lived here as well which meant it was in part your responsibility as a roommate, at the very least. Mando could argue otherwise all he wanted. It’s not like he could stop you while he worked.

While Grogu napped, you took the opportunity to clean what you could. 

The sound of a quiet giggle made you pause. You rinsed the soap off your hands, leaving the few dishes you had left to clean in the sink, and used the kitchen towel you rested on your shoulder to dry your hands. Another giggle drifted from the hall. Grogu must have woken up from his nap. You chuckled to yourself and tossed the towel aside to go find him. Usually the boy called out for you when he woke up.

Down the hall, you spotted Grogu and it took you a second to recognize what the boy was keeping himself busy with. He stood crayon in hand as he worked on his masterpiece⏤ the masterpiece he was drawing on the wall.

“Grogu!” You cried, startled.

Grogu simply turned to look at you with his little toothy grin. “See!”

He must have woken from his nap a good while ago because the kid had made quite the progress. The entire wall was decorated in his scribbled drawings in various colors. You spotted multiple pictures of his father and him. You recognized the other colored Mandalorian that filled many of his pictures, with the dark haired person beside him, and a few other familiar faces. Peli. Cara. Karga. Your eyes landed on a scribbled drawing of what looked like you with Grogu in your arms. It was honestly the cutest most precious thing in the world and your heart would be overflowing with love if it wasn’t for the location of the art.

“Oh, Grogu, why?” You breathed.

“Good?” He asked.

You gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, you drew it all so good, buddy, but…the wall…”

Grogu’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Ih.” He motioned for you to follow him with one hand and you trailed after him into Mando’s bedroom. Grogu pointed to the wall where you had taped a few of his art pieces. “See!”

“Right. But that’s paper that I…” You winced. You held your arms out to scoop the little artist up. He looked immensely proud of himself and you hated the idea of scolding him. “We can’t draw on the walls anymore though, alright?” If Grogu understood or agreed he made no motion to show it. You sighed and tickled the boy’s belly, mumbling under your breath. “I wonder how attached your dad is to his walls.”

Mando’s voice called out from the foyer and you grimaced. The hallway was still decorated in crayon. You had tried to wipe some of it away, but the moment you got near it Grogu whined at you to stop. Apparently he wanted his father to admire the work. You hurried to meet Mando in the foyer before he could get any further.

“Hi there.” You held your hands out to stop him.

“Hey.” He greeted curiously.

You forced a grin that you prayed didn’t look sheepish. “So, how was work?”

“Good…” Mando paused. “How was your day?”

“Uh, interesting.” You scrunched your nose. “We may have had a little…incident.” Mando stiffened and you quickly shook your head and hands at him. “No, no. Grogu is fine. He’s more than fine. Grogu is very proud of himself.”

“Oh.” Mando replied.

“Buir, k’olar! K’olar!” Grogu bounced behind you and waved for him to follow. You motioned to the child with your arms and Mando gave you one last confused tilt of his head before listening to Grogu’s pleads. You walked behind him nervously. When the three of you entered the hall, the mischievous artist pointed to the wall covered in crayon. “See!”

Mando stayed stock still for a second and you blurted a panicked apology, “I am so sorry, Mando. I thought he was napping and I was washing dishes and I heard his little, evil giggle and when I found him he was drawing on the wall⏤ I tried to clean it up but he wouldn't let me⏤”

Your words were interrupted with the sound of a full bellied laugh. Mando was laughing loudly and freely. There had been moments of chuckles and breathy laughs, but this was the first time you had seen him so carefree in front of you. A small smile curled onto your features in admiration. Mando knelt down to hold out his arms so Grogu could jump into them.

“Good?” Grogu asked.

“Very nice, ad’ika.” Mando praised him. “I’ll send a picture to Boba and Fennec. I think they’d really love to see it.” You crossed your arms and watched in amusement as the boy pointed at each piece of the picture to babble to him an explanation. Mando nodded and hummed along⏤ paying full attention. When Grogu had reached the end, Mando ruffled the top of his head. “Alright, womp rat, I saw your toys in the living room still. Why don’t you go clean up?”

Grogu chirped an acknowledgement and waddled away. Mando turned to face you and you shook your head. “I hung some of his pictures up on your bedroom wall and I guess he decided to cut out the middleman and get right to it.”

Mando chuckled. “It’s alright. Of all the messes I expect him to get into this is fairly mild.”

“I am sorry about your wall though. I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

“It’s just a wall.” Mando shrugged. “A boring one too. At least now I don’t have to bother with decorations. Cara always complained my house was too plain.” You laughed lightly. “Besides, you should see some of the things he’s gotten away with while I was actively watching him.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased. “He is a quick one.”

“You have no idea.” Mando sighed. “Over dinner, remind me to tell you about the Frog Lady’s eggs.”

“The what lady’s what?”

mando'a translations

Buir: Parent (father) /// Ad'ika: little one /// K'olar: Come here

tag list:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio

[seabysiren]

Listen I need more of the streamer au👁️👄👁️, it’s pure gold. Like are the rest of the 141 team streamers too, what about Los vaqueros. What if they form like content creator house, could you imagine the absolute chaos😭

that's what I wanted the end goal to be. unite the 141 avengers style. having our dear reader as the editor and main camera man when they start doing more in person vlogs and videos.

this may be content like exploring a haunted house at 3am in the morning! soap and gaz scared out of their minds! simon firmly doesnt believe in ghosts. johnny and gaz on the other hand... are screaming and running away at any sudden noise. you and price often stand in the dark waiting for the two idiots to approach and scaring the living daylights out of them. simon who stands in a room of what used to be a child's nursery. grimacing from the dust and gently handling the toys left with respect. even if there was no 'ghost', he respects the area and where the child had been thought to have passed away from neglect. you who just slowly walks away from the group to do your own thing. you catch doors slamming by themselves. the blue bouncy ball rolling back to you despite you throwing it away a few moments ago. you just go. nope. 'i respect you ghost dude. but like, not today.' funnily enough, the ghosts stop when you ask them to. you eventually show the feed to soap and gaz who are freaking out and shaking you back and forward. why would you do that? what if you got haunted? what if you brought the ghost back with you????

que coming back at like noon to the hotel. soap and gaz are absolutely exhausted with all the screaming and messing around they did. price just seems overall unnerved, and ghost doesn't care. he just wants to go to sleep... and possibly share the bed with you so he can hold you close and cudde-

i mean wait what? or like homemade cooking with the Los Vaqueros, Alejandro and Rodolfo. simon absolutely getting destroyed by all the spices because british food is bland af.

you had hinted at alejandro and rodolfo that simon and soap may not have that good of a spice tolerance. that was a mistake because you saw them dump a lot of red, spicy smelling herbs in when soap and ghost weren't looking.

the food they made was absolutely amazing. tamales. chile rellenos. and a spicy chicken soup (chilate de pollo). soap absolutely butchering the names because he does not, in fact, speak spanish. you smack him upside the head for that. ghost is surprisingly quiet when he eats the food. soap is howling in the background for milk, gaz is laughing at him and price is just silently enjoying his food.

ghost's face gets surprisingly red. but he doesn't complain. even goes for seconds. but when the kitchen is cleared after cleaning everything up. you see him sitting down with a carton of ice cream, digging it straight out with a spoon.

(his favorite ice cream is vanilla bean.) soap and gaz making everyone have a pretty princess remake <3. forcing everyone, including price, who just signs and drinks out of his flask of whiskey, to paint their nails and wear dresses and stuff. the reader actually getting beat behind scene because they don't have to get a makeover... that is until simon locks them into a chokehold because he wants to see you all dolled up too :))

they all gossip about each other. telling embarassing stories. stories about ghost's initial confusion about streaming. all the works. the content creator house is a mess. but its a found family that all the viewers love to see.

[inquisitornocturn]

◇─ 𝕴𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖆𝖙 𝕹𝖎𝖍𝖎𝖑 ─◇

◇𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕾𝖊𝖝 ─ 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝕾𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘◇

⚜ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Inquisitor Lord Xavier Calcazar / oc!High Interrogator Volenta van Halvek von Valancius af Calixis / Interrogator Heinrix van Calox

⚜ 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: Overall story rating - E. This chapter: physical injuries, pain.

⚜ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: That snake Kunrad. How could he betray the Rogue Trader, how could he arrange such mutiny in which so many perish and Volenta, too, almost loses her life? But a new day breaks and she comforts herself with memories of her past with Xavier while her new reality, one of becoming a Lord Captain so soon and quite tragically, weighs heavily upon her shoulders. Abelard sees her struggle and attempts to help, only to learn her deepest secret.

⚜ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 11,323| on AO3 |

⚜ 𝖆/𝖓: This is a hefty one size-wise but I was mighty reluctant to split it considering it's practically one event. Some of my all time favorite moments are here and I hope they will be enjoyed by those who read this chapter. Enjoy♡~

story summary and chapter list can be found here ⚜ artwork I commissioned for Volenta can be found under #oc: Inquisitor Volenta

Your helmet slipping on your eyes, your lasgun propped at your shoulder and your boots full of muck, you stand in an official parade formation among other soldiers. The bunker is dark but at least the smell of Colonel’s recaf flows through the otherwise musk filled room from the mixed unit that has been summoned straight from the trenches. Stenches of sweat, blood, and even tinges of piss can be discerned in the cacophony of smells, but you barely pay attention, listening to Sargan Willis brief your entire unit about the importance of this sudden summon.

An Inquisitor Lord is looking for people.

A murmur washes over the soldiers and Colonel Willis snaps his fingers.

“Pay attention, people, and look sharp. You have to show your best behavior before any of you-“

The door opens and the man falls silent. Everyone’s eyes turn to the one who enters. It’s a tall man, dark mane neatly combed back and sideburns make his face more regal than one you could imagine on an agent of the Golden Throne. An augmetic eye scans the room and everyone in it, and a steely gaze in the other one makes most gathered uncomfortable.

But not you.

You look at the man in awe.

Your helmet tries to slip over your eyes again and you push it back, not daring to miss even a second of the sight before you. You’re in a fifth row from the front but you see well the power armor that is black and gilded with gold, the Inquisition symbols adorning it and one even rising behind him from the power supply attached to the Inquisitor’s back. He wears a cloak, crimson just like the blood that is smearing your face and the ill-fitting uniform, but to you… to you the man looks like a God. You have never seen a single human personify the Emperor’s will so purely, so strongly, it almost feels like it radiates over the dingy, plain bunker room, washing it from impurities.

“Inquisitor Lord Xavier Calcazar.” Colonel announces when the man positions himself in the center in front of a first row, observing the soldiers quietly. All of you salute and shout the customary maxim of the Emperor protects, before standing to attention once again.

Calcazar nods slowly, as if in approval of the conduct of soldiers before him, and begins speaking, but you can’t even comprehend what he is saying. Something about picking people, something about only the best of the best being fit to serve the Inquisition. You don’t think you will be picked, so instead you just gawk at the man, wondering if you will see Imperium’s splendor like this ever again.

But Xavier’s keen eyes don’t miss a single person, and he certainly doesn’t fail in noticing a small-frame girl standing among men and women of clearly more years than you. Through the dirt and blood smeared on your face he can’t exactly tell your age, but your eyes, wide like saucers, draw his attention because they stand out so much through the grime on your skin. He talks, giving the customary introduction of why he’s here and what’s going to happen, but the Inquisitor’s eyes keep returning to the girl.

At last, when the speech is over, he makes a show of pacing the first line of soldiers, stopping by some, ignoring the others, until he strategically makes his way towards you, too intrigued to see someone this young fighting on the front lines of a war that, from what he can tell, is at least three times older than you. When Xavier halts right in front of this soldier, he looks down at you like someone would look at a pest by their feet, and yet you keep gawking at him, your lips parted in something near worship. Amused and in a small degree flattered, he almost chuckles, but stops himself before it happens.

“Introduce yourself.” Xavier demands and you perk up immediately.

You curtly salute him, with your eyes still wide and helmet threatening to slip over your eyes again because you move. It's clear that you're just another Hive rat destined to die, wearing some fallen soldier's uniform, too big of a helmet, with your boots barely holding together. But unlike others you don't appear given up on life just yet.

"Emperor protects, Lord Inquisitor! Corporal Volenta Scipio-Grimald of 263rd Imperium Legion battalion ‘Black Death’, at your service!" You rattle out as fast as a bolt gun and at this Xavier does smile.

The eagerness, the sharpness, he likes these qualities. Despite being pulled from the battlefield, you appear to be as awake as if you’re on battle stimms, unlike the rest who look beaten down and exhausted despite their best efforts to look sharp.

“Very good.” The Inquisitor nods, tapping his fingers over the spine of a book that hangs from his waist by a chain. “Do you have any battle achievements?” He asks simply because Xavier doesn’t know if you’re just eager or stupid.

As his eyes row over your form, the dirty uniform and everything else, he notices a heavy braid of white hair slipping from beneath your ill-fitting helmet. It is too splattered with blood, then his gaze also notices your chest. Yes, you are young, he assesses that you can’t be more than nineteen, maybe even less, but he sees a glimpse of cloth through the tear in your jacket and shirt. Binding her chest, Xavier notes in his mind and after a moment understands why. Being so young and in a mixed unit to boot, it’s a risk of being assaulted, especially if a feminine shape draws enough eyes from the male part of the regiment.

“I have a medal for Battle Merit, Lord Inquisitor!” You speak up while you stare at the man like you have forgotten to blink. For a moment your gaze drifts to the side because Colonel Willis approaches and stands by Calcazar’s elbow, his eyes harsh on you, silently warning you to behave.

“Battle Merit medal.” Xavier hums, then rises an eyebrow. “And for what deed the medal has been given to you?”

You pause, your eyes again darting to Willis and he clears his throat.

“If you’ll allow me, Inquisitor Lord, Volenta has been granted a medal after taking charge of her unit when the commander fell and launching a successful attack.” A pause while Willis looks at you sternly. “Stupid decision, she and the entire unit might’ve perished but… they returned. So she got a medal.”

Xavier listens, then looks at you again, clearly amused.

“Is he saying the truth?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.” You try to remain composed but both men can see corners of your lips rise slightly in a barely subdued smile.

“How old are you?” It’s a simple question and you don’t mind answering it, but you do notice the utter and complete silence among the soldiers. They try to hear every single word of the conversation. You wonder how they would react if you got picked.

“Seventeen, Inquisitor.”

At your answer, Xavier looks at Colonel with a questioning look and the man stutters before launching into a long reply.

“I’ve been assigned to this unit when she was already here, Inquisitor Lord. In her file it says that they picked her up on a Hive world called Thepaine. She was just wandering the streets so they took her in and brought her here, gave her a purpose, I have no other information-“

Calcazar rises his hand, silencing the man and looks back at you.

“How old you were when the Guard took you in?”

“Fifteen.”

Inquisitor’s eyebrow rises again in mild surprise. He heard of soldiers being picked among Hive world inhabitants, but most of them are usually adults, not little girls who haven’t even finished their time in schola. Even less so those little girls don’t get put in a, most likely, dead men uniforms and given guns, quickly to end up dead before they reached real adulthood.

“So you served for two years already.” Xavier sighs slightly, thinking.

He shouldn’t consider taking you, but on the other hand, you’re so young and you survived two years on the frontlines already. He knows your regiment as being one most soldiers refer to as a death sentence. Average lifespan of a soldier here doesn’t go over six months, even if that. And most end up here because they did something to upset Commissars of better regiments, so what are you doing here, if you have been here from the very beginning?

With his eyes fixed on you, still seeing the same magical awe in your expression that hasn’t left your face from the moment he entered the bunker, the Inquisitor leans a little closer, towering over you like a statue of a God-Emperor. When your eyes follow him, the helmet slips over your eyes and Xavier can’t help but smile ever so slightly before he pushes it up and away from your eyes.

“Tell me, Volenta, do you know what it is to serve His Most Holy Inquisition?”

Pain, somewhere far away and dull, but pain nonetheless. You frown, not wanting to let go of the part-dream, part-memory. You didn’t even know how to read when Xavier brought you back to his Inquisitorial flagship. He gave you absolutely everything, made you who you are today. Another memory returns as your mind clings to pleasant snippets of your past instead of acknowledging whatever it is happening in your current reality.

The time you started learning how to write and wrote Xavier’s name to impress him when Inquisitor asked you about progress. And how right after that you wrote the word penis, making him frown and then laugh. He chastised you for being so immature even for someone your age, but you didn’t care as long as you heard his laughter and felt a chuckle reverberate against your chest when you kissed him. That night you laid in his bed, naked as the day you were born, draped over Xavier’s own undressed lap, and tried to write things he dictated for you. Names of saints, of other Inquisitors, all while you shared a glass of some liquor or another that you can’t remember the name of. It tasted absolutely awful. It was only few months after he took you from the Guard, making your life something worth living.

“…hear me?”

Words, not Xavier’s, that much you can register and you don’t want to pay attention even if the pain is becoming sharper with each passing second, pushing the memories away no matter how hard you try to cling to them. No, no, you don’t want to wake just yet…

“Lord Captain, do you hear me?” A voice you don’t recognize, that is a certainty, and with a flutter of your eyelashes, because the light is so bright in your eyes, you finally look at whoever is calling you.

A tall man, short cropped grey hair, oculars on his nose, wearing a gown that was once white and pristine but now is smeared with blood and soot, crumpled in many places. He’s holding some sort of patch and a sponge dabbed with translucent muck that is most likely is medical.

“Lord Captain, you are back with us.” He speaks again and at last you place face to a name – Master Chirurgeon Lettard Forius.

You don’t remember much, not right away. First instinct is to sit up and you do while gritting your teeth. Every muscle in your body is screeching with pain and your skin feels on fire.

Fire…

You walked through the fire, you remember it now, and a carousel of memories return to you in flashes: the mutiny, Kunrad’s betrayal, the Warrant Chamber and the sentinel, Abelard and your trip to the Navigator’s Sanctum. Idira and her useless powers that had her knocked out almost half the time the fighting was happening. Sister Argenta and the flames, Theodora who wasn’t really Theodora, tempting you to sin. The shining aquila that you saw after your walk through the fire and Abelard’s shocked gasp when you stood, albeit with his help, to keep fighting. You remember the mutations on Edelthrad’s body before he rushed you off to check on the Lord Captain only to find her body slumped over the desk, Mort dead too. More fighting, Kunrad performing some sort of heretical ritual, Edelthrad… going through rapid mutation and dying by your hand. And then…

And then you became the Lord Captain.

You clutch your head with both hands and groan, unable to help yourself. The pain, the whirlwind of experiences. May the Emperor curse the damned Tzeench slave that Kunrad has become. For how long has he served the Ruinous Powers? For how long he was a thorn, secretly festering in Theodora’s side? Not even Xavier suspected, not even his agents-

“Lord Captain, are you with me?” Master Forius calls again and you rise your eyes to the man, barely seeing him through strands of your hair that now look grey from the ashes. Slowly you lower your hands into your lap, trying to find the end of a string that has started to unravel in your mind. Too much all at once and then there’s the pain.

“Yes.” You finally manage, then clear your throat and try again, this time sounding stronger. “Yes, I hear you.” Slowly you look around, realizing that you’re most likely in a Medicae Bay. You note clean walls and tidy sheets, a one person room. Others probably are being treated by less skilled doctors, in less private surroundings.

Then, you look at the man again, your eyes briefly betraying shock at realization that you’re completely naked under the thin sheet that is covering your lower half. You don’t care for your own nudity, what matters is the tattoo.Hhe must’ve seen it and Forius confirms it with a simple sentence. “I have treated most of your burns, Lord Captain, including ones on the back.” He doesn’t try to hide that he saw and you swallow dryly, tasting ash in your mouth.

“You saw nothing there worth of concern?” Keeping an eye contact you ask slowly, making sure that every word is clear and full of intention, to which chirurgeon just shakes his head.

“Most of the burns went to your neck area and your arm, your thigh, the back was almost untouched and I saw nothing of concern there.” Then, after a pause he adds when you don’t relax. “Nothing at all.”

Good, most often doctors of such high grade like Rogue Trader’s personal healer know how to keep secrets and since he saw your Inquisition tattoo, and obviously the scars around it, he most likely suspects your involvement with the Most Holy Ordos to some capacity. You’re not eager to reveal the truth, so you just nod and finally look down at yourself, inspecting the damage, but just as Lettard said, your left side suffered most of the burns and appears to be almost completely covered in same medical ointment that the man is holding.

“Let me finish it up.” Lettard’s voice is practical and casual as he leans closer, brushing your hair away that already have stuck to the balm on your neck. He dabs at it with the sponge, gently and carefully, barely making it hurt. A featherlike touch that you find yourself grateful for.

“Where’s others?” You wonder, struggling to believe that you’re here alone with just the medic, after being pronounced the new Rogue Trader, especially after everything that transpired.

“Your Seneschal is waiting outside. We needed to remove your burnt clothes but he refused to overlook the procedure.”

You almost chuckle at the thought of Abelard, who apparently you inherited through Theodora’s death as your Seneschal, being all upset and offended at possibly seeing you naked, even if you were in need of medical assistance.

“For the best, I don’t feel my most beautiful self today to put on a show.” With a wry smile you look at Forius who doesn’t even pretend to smile. His eyes look enlarged behind the oculars and this time you do chuckle. You don’t know what has come over to you, but everything is just… so funny.

“If these burns heal well, and I have no reason to believe they won’t, you will be looking your usual self, Lord Captain.” The man murmurs and you laugh, your giddiness only increasing in light of his stone-like attitude.

“For better or for worse, right.” You giggle and Lettard gives you a brief look, then presses a sheet of gauze over the ointment, leaning back and stepping away.

He gestures to a glass by the bed and you take it, trying not to choke through your laughter when you attempt to drink. But then you drink it whole while your heart pounds in your chest. The humorous light which you were basking in for a few minutes disappears without a trace and you clear your throat again.

“What can you tell me?” Pulling the thin sheet away, you see same patch that the medic just used on your thigh and hip hugging your waist and circling towards your back. You feel them all, pulling at your healthy skin as they attach themselves to the wounds.

“Not much, Lord Captain. A lot of people injured, many more dead. Master Werserian might be able to tell you more.” Forius walks to the sink and peels off his gloves, washing his hands with soap. “But we made it out of the warp before Master Vespiadas perished.”

“Thank the Emperor…” With relief you sigh and nod, then carefully move your legs, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking around for anything you can dress yourself in.

“The bandages I applied will cover your wounds like second skin, give them an hour or two to properly attach themselves to the damaged tissue and then you should feel much better. Can shower as well. Tomorrow I’d like for you to return so that I can inspect the healing progress.”

As he speaks, Master Chirurgeon walks to a simple steel closet and digs out some sort of robe looking garment that you have no choice but to accept. Completely in the nude, you are not going to stroll through the ship with your womanhood on display. So when you stand and pull on the robe, tying it around yourself, Forius even places a pair of slippers in front of you. You wince at the sight.

“Is there nothing more… dignified?” Glancing at the man you see him solemnly shake his head and you resign to looking like a loon when you cross the vessel to your chambers. What a start of your life as a Rogue Trader.

With a sigh you put your feet into the slippers and glance around but see neither your plasma pistol or your power sword anywhere, which you assume Abelard has taken.

“Thank you, Master Forius.” You nod to him and the man shows a tiniest hint of surprise because you know his name, considering he didn’t introduce himself, but then nods in return and steps aside, allowing you to head for the door.

Outside, Abelard indeed is waiting and just as you suspected he is holding onto your weaponry. However, he doesn’t seem to have needed much medical help, because he’s still wearing same uniform, burnt in places and smeared with soot and blood, mostly those of others, not his. Besides that, the Seneschal appears to be in quite good health and whatever made him bleed earlier, the sleeve that was drenched when you met him at the antechamber of the Trade Warrant room, neither has stopped him since then, nor it seems to be still bleeding. You hope that he did let someone attend to his own injuries instead of standing guard over the door that no one was trying to break down in the first place.

“Lord Captain, how are you feeling?” Abelard asks immediately, stepping up closer and letting his gaze sweep over your robe-clad form with scrutiny of an experienced field medic, inspecting you just as you inspected him.

His familiarity with healing is something you have read in his file, or so you think, because right now even yesterday’s memories, that seem like they have happened a lifetime ago, seem hazy and hard to decipher. You try to think of details you read, try to focus, but wailing from the beds all around the Medicae Bay become too distracting on top of you fighting the fog in your mind. Your eyes drift for a moment to a passing chirurgeon, his white robes dripping with someone’s blood and leaving a trail of footsteps as the man hurries by with a tray of instruments. No one is paying any attention to you, thankfully, except for Abelard, who speaks up when he doesn’t receive an answer.

“You gave us a scare back there, Lord Captain.” He starts and you look at your Seneschal again, shifting your focus onto him through fatigue and exhaustion. “You fought valiantly and collapsed only after the fighting was over.” Then his gaze fills with a hint of admiration and whole lot of pride. Even a small smile appears, lifting the corners of his moustache ever so slightly. “But… after seeing you walk through the flames, I can’t say I am that much surprised by your fortitude. Here you are again, standing and walking, when most other soldiers would have not had the strength just yet.”

“I did what was needed.” You pause, not sure what else to say. You’re not the one to express sympathy, but maybe because of your tiredness or maybe the explosion of today’s events, you clear your throat slightly. “I’m sorry about Lady Theodora.”

Abelard’s smile falters and then disappears, he lets out a heavy sigh and you can see grief push through normally schooled, stern expression of his.

“I am too, Your Ladyship. But the mourning can wait.” First officer remains quiet and then clears his own throat, feeling slightly awkward before extending your weaponry to you. Yet when you reach for them you both see that your fingers are trembling so much so that the man pauses and moves the items out of your reach. “Let’s get you to your room first.” Then after a brief moment of hesitation he adds. “Technically, you have inherited late… Lady Theodora’s room already, but the serfs need to…”

You stop him with a rise of your shaking hand.

“It’s fine, I’m in no hurry to take up the Lord Captain chambers. I just want to return to my room and recuperate.” With a wry smile you gesture at yourself and how you are dressed. “Not the most fitting outfit for a brand new Rogue Trader. I need to change. And a shower first.”

Even to you it’s obvious how tired your voice sounds despite your attempt to appear casual and even light-hearted. You still see grief etched in Abelard’s gaze, his sorrow poorly hidden. The wound of losing Theodora is all too fresh, still bleeding, you can understand that even if you don’t feel the sorrow yourself. After all, you met the woman once and now with her death, and that of Edelthrad’s, the weight of a whole dynasty dropped onto your shoulders with the heaviness of an entire galaxy.

At last Abelard nods, but notices your effort to appear unperturbed and the shoddy act of trying to hide how your injuries are affecting you. He sighs again, relenting despite his instinct urging him to lecture you about the importance of your wellbeing, especially at the time like this.

“Right this way.” With a hand that holds your pistol the Seneschal gestures, but you frown slightly, not moving.

“I think I can find my own way.” You try not to sound rude, but it’s so incredibly hard to keep your composure and perfect discipline. Your body is throbbing with pain, but admittedly the burns under the patches that Forius applied begin to dull the scorching ache to an almost bearable degree. You need rest, that much even you understand and accept.

“You most likely can and I do not doubt your capabilities of orienting yourself in your own ship.” Says Abelard, both of you politely ignoring that it’s only your second day on a vessel that didn’t even belong to you several hours ago. “But just in case that worm Kunrad’s traitors have not yet been completely eradicated from every corner where they could be lurking, I insist on accompanying you personally and ensuring that your life and health do not come to any further threats. Again.” Seneschal clears his throat for the third time, obviously still feeling slightly uncomfortable, but you have no more fight left in you.

You want a shower, Forius even said you can even have one soon, and you already dream of washing the soot and the smell of burnt flesh from your hair and body. With a sigh and an undignified shrug, because dressed as you are you do not feel very authoritative in a first place - you relent.

“Very well, lead the way then.”

Abelard lets out a smallest sigh of relief, seeming pleased that you didn’t put up a bigger fight and begins walking, the sound of his boots erasing any noise of your slippered feet as you walk by his side, still trying to wrap your mind about everything that happened. Before leaving the Medicae Bay you glance at the curtains surrounding beds from which cries and wails of agony keep emanating, then leave it all behind you. At least you didn’t end up like them, in whatever way they did end up.

Walking by Abelard’s side, you try to gather your thoughts, but one urgent need emerges before all the others. Xavier… Xavier has to be informed, he can advise, he can-

He can what?

You shake your head slightly, trying to get rid of any doubt that begins to gnaw at you because of your exhaustion. Maybe the plan came to be realized sooner than either of you thought, by no small meddling on Voigtvir’s part, but your mission remains the same: act like a Rogue Trader, pledge to His Most Holy Inquisition when you publicly can, claim your title as the Inquisitor on a later date. Although you realize that the consequences of such scale mutiny will most likely need to be dealt with first.

As you try to keep up with the Seneschal, deep in your thoughts, Abelard sees your expression change from clear exhaustion to grim determination. The difference is especially stark when he watches your grey gaze become clear and sharp, in contrast to the haze that seemed to cling to you from the moment you exited Master Chirurgeon’s room. Not anymore though, and the older officer allows himself a tiniest sigh of relief, seeing that whatever material his new Rogue Trader is made of is at least not bound to fall apart after the first ordeal, no matter how big the scale of this particular ordeal is.

“Abelard.” When you address him, the Seneschal snaps out of his own thoughts that were carrying him far along the plans for the future, both immediate and far.

“Yes, Lord Captain?”

“Are there any reports in yet? I’d like to know the amount of casualties and what things require utmost emergency.” With your gait firm again, you stroll by Abelard’s side with newfound confidence, not least made possible by Master Lettard’s exquisite skills in tending to your burns, because the pain is still subsiding, slowly, but steadily, enabling you to find your thoughts and properly arrange them.

“Lord Captain, despite how much I admire your desire to attend to matters immediately, there are only few reports coming in for the time being. We made it out of the warp, that’s the most important thing. Master Helmsman Ravor informed me that the ship withstood substantiable damage, however the full extent of such betrayal will only be known in the morning. You will have to attend your first officers’ meeting, but until then, I highly recommend, insist even, that you rest. The road from this point forward is not going to be an easy one.”

The corridors all blend into one while Abelard leads you expertly through the vessel’s passageways and you resign to not try and memorize the path just yet, telling yourself that you will have time for it later, trying to set your priorities straight, organize them so that you can act as efficiently as possible.

“Master Vespiadas?” With a glance you make sure that Abelard doesn’t show any signs of perchance withholding information from you but his face looks as stoic as ever.

“Unfortunately, the Navigator gave up his life valiantly while ensuring that the von Valancius dynasty does not end tonight. He will be mourned together with others that perished at a later date.”

You knew this already, from Lettard, but Abelard confirming it makes your brow furrow. If there’s no Navigator and if report by Ravor is correct, which you have no reason to doubt, you will have to find a Navigator somewhere, and sooner rather than later. You are not sure how long the vessel can go without immediate repairs but you hope that she’s sturdier compared to the impression you have gathered upon your arrival.

“So we need a Navigator, we need repairs and most likely to replenish the working crew. Manageable, but only if Emperor is on our side.” Stopping, you make Abelard mirror your action, then he nods, agreeing with your assessment of the situation. “Do we know where we emerged?”

At last you see a degree of relief in Seneschal’s scarred face as if he’s about to tell you the best news you have heard in your entire life.

“The Emperor did grace us with luck, Your Ladyship. We emerged at the Rykad System, where the vessel was headed to begin with. Late Lady Theodora was heading here with a task, but… for now it can wait.”

“I found a letter in her study when we discovered her body. Inquisitor Lord requested she picks up an agent of his, is it not?” You keep your composure despite the fact that speaking of Xavier makes your heart leap in your chest. Oh how you wish you could feel his arms on you, reassuring you in a way that only he can. Alas, you know it will be a long time before you see the Inquisitor again and your whole body stiffens with the feeling of yearning, but you push it away for the time being.

Abelard doesn’t hesitate to confirm with yet another nod, quickly realizing that your background in Astra Militarum and your position as a general doesn’t require him explaining how it’s important to heed such request with seriousness and urgency.

“That is correct. Thankfully, the esteemed Interrogator van Calox should be somewhere in this system, which is again lucky for us, because we just might find a Navigator and people to bolster our numbers. Unfortunately, however, repairs that the vessel needs can only be done at Footfall, but if we request aid from House Orsellio, which has a station on Eurac V, then we can make direct translation to the asteroid cluster and to the ship dock immediately.”

You don’t answer right away, mentally listing the tasks for yourself.

“I will think of what needs addressing first and foremost upon tomorrow’s morning when I receive full reports of damage and losses.”

“A wise decision, Lord Captain. And we’re almost at your chambers.” With a turn on his heel, Abelard resumes guiding you but thankfully it doesn’t take much more than five minutes for you to actually recognize the door as the one guarding your belongings behind it.

You stop by it, feeling the coldness of the ship beginning to seep into your bones, making the pain that now is a dull thrum emphasized with each heartbeat, turn from something that made it difficult for you to move, to an ache that you can practically ignore.

“I will post guards by your chambers.” Abelard says and at last hands you the plasma pistol and the power sword that you take with a degree of affection, finally being able to hold something that’s actually yours, anchoring you even more in this whirlwind of events and tragedies.

“That would be most wise if you suspect there’s still traitors among our ranks.” You agree and rise your eyes to the Seneschal, meeting his tired, but firm gaze.

“Rest well, Your Ladyship. Your dynasty needs you strong. I have a feeling that there are going to be many perils ahead of us.”

“I believe so as well. You rest as well, Abelard, if you can. We will have to see what we can do tomorrow.” You both exchange nods of acknowledgment and then you head inside the room, listening to how hydraulics hiss when they seal you inside from the rest of the vessel.

Thankfully, the storm that passed over the flagship avoided your personal room and you are relieved to finally get some reprieve and a moment to think, to tend to your needs and hurts, and plan for the day to come.

After placing your weapons onto the desk you suddenly swear, realizing that you have forgotten to ask Abelard about the Astropath Choir because you still need to get in contact with the man Xavier mentioned. But his name doesn’t come to you immediately and you let go of the thought for the time being, trying not to overwhelm yourself with a rapidly growing to-do list in your mind. Very briefly you also wonder if any of the Inquisitor’s agents have survived and how you are going to handle them if there are any of them alive, but again, you try not to linger and head for the bathchamber.

After washing up and finally cleaning yourself from the ordeals that you went through, you pour yourself a drink, then another, and then a third, all while you sit in bed with your safe box in front of you, lid open. You’re holding onto your precious rosette while looking at it with exhaustion that is finally and fully encompassing your entire being. But you gaze with reverie as well, looking at the symbol of your station for hope, for guidance and comfort. You want to pray and so you do, uttering the words that you learned from some Sisters of Battle years ago, yet abstaining from leaving your chambers to look for a chapel, because your entire body feels at its limit and you know better than to push yourself now. It’s over, it’s done.

The von Valancius dynasty is yours.

What a thought, what a day.

You rub the pad of your thumb over the rosette and take a long drink from the glass, quickly feeling the soothing effects of alcohol. You heave a sigh because you truly don’t know whether to be happy or not. Xavier’s plan came to fruition much faster than either of you anticipated or predicted, sure, but at the same time you feel the heavy weight of your role. You thought you will have time to learn from Theodora, that you will have the luxury to observe and learn the ropes of a Rogue Trader, because while it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you, you still never bothered to really understand what is expected of them besides aiding the Inquisition when such need arises.

You think about many things, trying to find places for all of them in your head, but exhaustion is beginning to wear you down completely and combined with the liquor that you don’t stop yourself from gulping down, emptying a fourth glass, you understand that sleep at this point is unavoidable.

Solemnly you lock the safe box and put it in the crate that came with you. You didn’t even finish unpacking, but maybe that is for the better in the end, because tomorrow you will be sleeping in a room that belonged to Theodora herself. How fast the world turned upside down for you. Still, you throw some other items into the crate to cover the box and set the glass aside after pausing for a moment, wondering if you should drink just one more before falling asleep, but decide against it.

In the bathchamber again, while you brush your teeth, you look at yourself in the mirror. The burns on your neck have been covered with the patch, but the dark circles under your eyes and clearly evident fatigue mars your pale face in ways that cannot be hidden and can only be remedied by sleep. Might as well, you tell yourself, it’s not like you’re of any use while drinking alone in your room and trying to fully internalize the day’s events.

After dousing lights in the room, you lie in bed and look at the armorcys window that opens to the view of space. The shutters have been risen before you returned here and there’s something comforting in not seeing the warp’s horrifying embrace but a familiarity of the known galaxy. In the far distance your eyes observe a planet, maybe even two, but it’s too distant to tell, and you wonder which one it is. Names of all of them escaping you while your mind begins to dull and slow.

Sleep starts to weigh heavily upon you like a blanket and at last you let your eyelids close, submerging yourself in peaceful darkness. For a brief moment you wonder what Xavier is doing. Is he thinking about you? He doesn’t have a reason to, the news of Theodora’s death won’t reach him for a while, or so you suspect, so you set your mind on finding the Choir to send out a message, to tell him you’re alright even if the Inquisitor Lord doesn’t know how close you came to becoming one of the many casualties tonight.

Thankfully you persisted, and you will keep persisting, for there’s no rest for the agents of the Golden Throne.

The Emperor protects, you think to yourself and feel warmth fill your chest that is almost otherworldly. Maybe you’re being sent another sign, like the aquila that appeared after you leaped through the flames, or maybe it’s just your devotion and love that you have for the Master of Mankind, and for Xavier of course, the two guiding stars of your life.

Then sleep finally descends upon you, bringing no dreams with it and granting you much needed rest, for both body and mind.

***

The pain again. It pierces through your mind and it’s like your entire body becomes aflame with emergency lights, all blinking and signaling the distress, making you feel like a shuttle coming down from the orbit. You groan and sit up with your hair cascading on both sides of your face and run a palm over your eyes downwards, trying to wake up, but the throbbing takes over the first couple minutes of your consciousness. When at last you open your bleary eyes, the blinking dataslate on the table draws your attention. Of course there’s things to be addressed that circumvented even Abelard’s careful insistence that you get rest.

You scan the room like you fully expect another heretic or a mutineer to jump from a darkened corner, but only see the von Valancius banners hanging from the rafters, the small corner cogitator blink with lazy hue, the candles crackling, lit anew by an unseen hand, most likely a servoskull that has an entrance vent in the far corner of the wall, right against the ceiling.

After another painful moment passes and the throbbing doesn’t cease or relent, you will your body to move. It obeys you heavily, your joints feeling as stiff as unoiled hinges of a Titan, but you do move. First your legs, then you stand, grasping for support at the nightstand nearby when your feet almost betray you.

Priorities, priorities…

Wash up, take a pill to numb the pain, dress, stuff your belongings back into the crates so that serfs don’t have an idea to touch your items. A meeting.

Forcing your mind to focus through the pain, you follow the seemingly easy steps of your first day as a Rogue Trader and by the time you’re tossing clothes and books into the open jaw of the bigger crate, you already feel better, your mind is clearer, although not as clear as you wish it to be. That will come, you reassure yourself, the painkiller that you took with a mouthful of amesac, which you know Xavier would frown upon if here was here, is going to start working at any moment.

And when it does, you are all ready to present yourself to the people aboard this ship, to lead the dynasty down the path that you will choose for it. One of loyalty, one of the Inquisition, if not openly just yet.

Abelard was true to his word and while you didn’t doubt it, after you exit the room, you still are pleased to see some voidsmen-at-arms guarding your door just as you were promised. They all greet you with curt shouts and aquila signs over their chests, before the group of three men and two women begin trailing after you unlike some ducklings following mother goose. You barely notice that, used to having company in one shape or another, or belonging to one yourself when you work with Silas. However, formal greetings and ‘Lord Captain’s’ of crewmen that you pass on your way to the Bridge is a combined novelty. Lady Interrogator, Lady van Halvek, Volenta… all of these you are used to hearing from various people in your life, alive or dead, but the new title is still unusual to your ear, like a brand new commbead that hasn’t quite been molded to your needs.

Still, despite regulatory greetings and generally respectful expressions, you do notice a few scowls here and there, few murmurs that escape your hearing by being exchanged between two workers. No, you didn’t expect to be suddenly cheered and celebrated, that didn’t happen even when Xavier took you back with him to his flagship. The memory makes your lips twist in a small wry smile.

You remember that day well, too well maybe. During the shuttle ride Xavier mainly kept quiet, only once observing you and your emaciated form, clad in a dead man’s uniform, but otherwise just telling you how serious of an opportunity it is that he chose you. You nodded, thanking, gawking at him but trying not to and failing of course, at which you chuckle slightly and receive couple curious glares from your escorts in the present.

The moment you two stepped onto the dock, part of the Inquisitor’s retinue was waiting for him already. Most of them perished through the years only to be replaced with others, like the one you are ought to find in this system, the van Calox man. But then it was three men and a woman, who immediately scrunched her nose at your appearance only to be scolded by Xavier.

She was instructed to show you to a room, to make sure you bathe, that you are dressed, groomed, presentable. And you actually ended up fighting her while in the tub when the lady tried to wash your hair, threatening to put you into an airlock if you don’t stop pushing her away. No dice, you chuckle at the memory again and try to keep yourself quiet as images of events long ago flash in your mind’s eye. The lady, what was her name? Ah yes, Myredeth, the assassin in Xavier’s retinue. She definitely tried her damnest to scrub you clean, seemingly taking the Inquisitor’s order to ensure you are taken care of as a personal challenge. Problem was, you didn’t know what a tub was and wasn’t very willing to let a stranger rub you with a sponge despite not being shy about being naked.

The whole ordeal ended up with Myredeth soaked to the last thread herself, shoving your head under what was left out of the water in the tub, just to make sure your white hair actually was white again, and with you fighting for dear life while furious at her actions. After that, you were left alone to dry off but only temporarily, before the lady returned with your new clothes, a uniform that Xavier insisted those under his command wear, and tried to squeeze you into a bra. A piece of clothing that you have never wore before.

Later that day, when Calcazar insisted on seeing how this dirty gem of a soldier looks after being administered the Emperor’s cleansing, you couldn’t stop being restless, which naturally drew Inquisitor’s attention. You did tell the man right away, and without shame, what the issue was, and when he tried to dismiss your complaint as you being just undisciplined, you near tore off your jacket and shirt open, showing him how the bra was digging into your flesh. The memory of Xavier’s eyes in that moment, wide as serving plates in the mess hall, is something that nearly bends you in half with laughter which you try to chase away by clearing your throat.

In the end, it turned out that the bra size was too small and you still refused to wear one for months, until Xavier started putting it on you every morning himself, lecturing you about propriety and swinging flesh in battle. You sigh, wistfully almost, but your spirit is lifted and when your mind focuses on reality once more, just in time as you approach the Bridge, you feel like yourself again despite the dull pain thrumming at your body like poison that instead of seeping in, is trying to get out from underneath your skin.

Uncomfortable but determined not to show it, you pull at the lapels of your greatcoat and enter the Bridge, keeping your stance composed, disciplined and most importantly – authoritative. It’s your time to show who’s in charge. So when you stroll towards your seat that is more like a throne rising above the command center, Abelard doesn’t at first see just how much you are actually struggling.

“Good morning, Lord Captain, I hope you feel better today.” With a greeting and even voice the man walks after you and stops at the bottom of the few stairs that you have to take before you can sit down.

“Much better, Abelard, thank you. Can I get a recaf before we start?” You could probably also use a meal too, to give your healing body energy to do so faster, but you are too determined to get emergency business out of the way first.

“Of course, Lord Captain.” And while you fully expect Abelard to fetch you a cup himself, that’s far from what he actually does, which is to give a stern glare to a serf and bark out an order. “Get Her Ladyship a cup of recaf!” It makes you rise your eyebrows slightly, but you say nothing, just eye the man while you both wait for the command to be executed which takes approximately maybe two minutes, with the serf nearly stumbling over himself as he rushes and kneels, gifting you a gift of caffeine.

When you carefully sip from the cup, Abelard observes you, noting the patch on your neck and the way you seem to wince ever so slightly when you have to use your left hand for the drink.

“If you may allow me, Lord Captain, you should go and see Master Forius after the meeting is done.” The Seneschal slowly starts and you glance up at him, holding eye contact for a little longer than needed before you look down at the cup in your hands.

“It is not necessary, I am well enough to walk and talk, the rest just needs time.” You take another sip and curse internally because the brew is far too hot to be consumed at the pace you would prefer right now, craving that punch of the wake-up juice as some of the younger acolytes started calling it nowadays.

“Volenta-“ Abelard immediately catches himself and coughs. “Lord Captain, it is not wise to strain yourself when you are injured. Master Forius has served Lady Theodora for many years without fail and treated her-“ With a rise of your left arm, accompanied with another small wince, you make Seneschal stop talking and he just puffs out his chest, clearly fighting the urge to argue with you.

“I will consider it.” A compromise is usually the best route with men like Abelard and it seems to work now too as he deflates to his usual firm composure.

“Very well, Your Ladyship. If you want me to call upon the officers, I shall do so immediately.”

“Yes, that would be most satisfactory.” With a sigh, you lean back in your tall chair, hearing the ancient wood creak with your weight, and wait.

You are swiftly introduced to the people that some of you know and some that are new. The new ones replaced those dead after yesterday’s tragedy. Taking your task seriously, but nonetheless feeling bored with the petty problems that some of your officers present you, you only perk up when you hear a scoff of displeasure.

“What are we ought to do! No help, no crew, no Lord Captain-“

“Silence!” Abelard’s voice bellows like a trumpet, cutting the infantile mutineer off like a sword through grease and everyone stiffens. You smirk, waving a hand at your Seneschal.

“No, let the man speak, I want to hear what he has to say.” You sip on your recaf, watching the front row of officers depart so that you can get a view of the man that spoke up, his appearance bearing no significance whatsoever besides the gash over his face that he clearly received in the recent fight.

He stands where he is, eyes on you with anger and fear, and yet he speaks again, risking it all.

“You cannot expect us to follow you! Lady Theodora has been our Lord Captain for our entire lives! You cannot just replace her, heir or not! We don’t know you!”

Yes, you expected this much, especially about how abrupt your step into the throne of the voidship has been. A mutiny that would flower like a poisonous bloom given the chance. For a moment you consider this crewman-turned-officer and curl your fingers under your chin, supporting your head when you relax.

And then you smile.

“Is that all?” Not letting the man even open his mouth again, just watching his face keenly, you smirk wider. “Execute him, Abelard. Speaking against authority is a sin of treason, which is heresy, and we won’t be tolerating any more sin aboard my ship.”

Man’s face shifts. At first it shows fear, then anger, which changes to fury almost instantaneously and you relish the sigh, taking another drink of recaf.

“Right away, Lord Captain.” There’s not even a moment of hesitation in Abelard as he points at present deck enforcers and orders them to drag the man away. Last thing you hear of him is a manic laughter, after when it fades, it leaves those gathered in grim silence.

“Proceed.” You say with a smile and lightness in your heart. At least you are back in your element, giving orders, as you should be, even if it’s not under the Most Holy Ordo banner, but that will come too in due time.

Rest of the meeting goes without any other interruptions and when everyone disperses, you stand with a quiet grunt of pain, only to be stopped by running Idira and Argenta, who chases after her. You have no patience for the mad psyker so when she starts babbling some sort of premonition, you dismiss her immediately and order Abelard not to let her come onto the Bridge again. Witches… you will have a lot of pleasure handing her to that Interrogator you are meant to pick up, and you are sure he will be delighted as well. Maybe something to share a drink over at a later date, but for now, you hear Abelard informing you that he would like to show you to your new chambers.

With hands clasped behind you and a show of authority in how you hold yourself, you follow the Seneschal to the lift that is thankfully not too far. Your body is aching because the meeting took longer than you expected and the pill that you consumed earlier is beginning to lose its affects.

At the Lord Captain’s chambers, stepping out of the elevator, you approach a painting of Theodora that is hanging untouched by what happened.

“I want this changed.” You say, noticing the dust collected over the pages of scripture book placed on a display right under it. Aware that you most likely will find more signs of Theodora’s lack of faith throughout her former chambers, you hear Abelard hesitate behind you.

“We will need a portrait of you, Lord Captain.”

Right. And you don’t have one. Not one that doesn’t show you in full Inquisitorial regalia. You clear your throat and turn to Abelard.

“Then find me someone who can get one done, but in the meanwhile I’d like this removed anyway.”

“For this you will have to talk to High Factotum Janris, Your Ladyship. He handles most of such tasks.”

“Then I shall.” You turn and suddenly your burnt thigh makes your entire leg feel weak. When you stumble, the Seneschal rushes closer and grabs your elbow in attempt to support you.

“Master Foriu-“ He begins but you just scoff and the man shuts up immediately, stepping back when you straighten yourself and walk into the study room. It has been cleaned from corpses and blood, effectively too, because you don’t even smell the scent of crimson iron that was splashed everywhere just yesterday.

“Does Your Ladyship require anything else?” You hear Abelard’s voice behind you as you slowly walk around the room, taking in everything that’s here: the wall of weaponry, the regicide board, an Aeldari trophy, an organ that makes you wonder what kind of music is stores. But at the question you stop and look at him.

“How’s the Astropath Choir is doing?”

“Only a handful of loses, most of them managed to seal the chambers before the mutiny spread.”

“I wish to visit it today.”

“As you wish, Lord Captain.”

Abelard is about to leave when you don’t ask him anything again, but he lingers, watching you walk to the desk, a flash memory of Theodora’s body slumped there nearly makes the Seneschal say something, but he remains quiet, observing how you trace your fingers over the edge of the table, making your way around it. When you pull the chair aside, he cannot miss the wince in your expression and lurches forward with two steps to help before stopping himself.

“Lord Captain, your injuries need to be looked at.”

“I said I’m fine.” Your response is harsher than you wanted it to be, but the pain that just flashed through your entire body makes you impatient. Carefully you sit down, allowing yourself a smallest sigh of relief to be off your feet, but when your eyes meet Abelard’s, you can already see that the senior officer is not letting go this easily.

Approaching the front of the desk, he hesitates, then comes even closer, skirting the edge of the table while digging into his pants’ pocket.

“If you refuse to see Master Forius, then at least let me look at it-“

“Abelard, I said no!” Because he is approaching fast, you turn in your seat to Abelard quickly and a cry of pain escapes your lips when your side makes your mind blank out for a moment.

“You are clearly in no state to argue. Let me help.” Seneschal’s strong hand pushes your entire chair with you in it so that you can face him, and you look at the man with a grimace of pain.

“Do not touch me!” Rising your voice you know he should obey the order, but whatever has gotten into Abelard, which is most likely worry for your wellbeing, is making him abandon reason and place a small medicae kit on the desk, before leaning over you.

“Let me see, Lord Captain.” He demands with a degree of softness in his request but you scowl, glaring at the man.

“No.”

“Lord Captain-“

“I said no!”

“For the Emperor’s love, Volenta, let me just-!” Abelard loses his patience and grabs the front of your coat in a fist, his eyes furious despite also being laced with worry and you glower for a second longer, thinking of all the ways you could punish him. The seneschal is clearly stepping over any and all boundaries of conduct, but his concern touches something within you, like Xavier’s own comforting hand, and you deflate, grumbling.

“Terra smite you… Fine, you can look.” You huff and puff, when Abelard’s fist releases your clothes, you carefully turn in your seat, making left side of your body more accessible to the Seneschal, and unbutton your coat.

With his help you shrug it off and Abelard spares only a second to drape it over the backrest of your chair, before he walks away for a moment to grab a chair from the desk that the regicide board is on. You watch him, having half a thought to command him to leave again, but decide not to argue, just make a mental note not to let him do this ever again. You’re supposed to be his commander and yet he’s acting like your father. Well, if you knew what having a father is like.

“Turn your head, please.” When seated at last, Abelard opens the medicae kit and with a show of an annoyed sigh you turn your head, letting him brush the hair away from the side of your neck and gently touch around the patch under which the wound throbs. “Feels hot.” The man murmurs and briefly presses the back of his hand to your forehead before gently pulling at your shirt’s collar to see how low the burn runs. “You do not seem to run a fever, which is a good sign, but pain is to be expected after what you went through.”

You sit still, feeling like you’re back in the classroom among other acolytes and don’t even grumble when Abelard opens first few buttons of your blouse, pursuing the path of the burn. The garment slips off your shoulder and you try not to wince because even that hurts.

“Do you have anything for pain?” By the Golden Throne, you can hear your voice tremble, and you swallow dryly. Maybe you’re in a worse shape than you allow yourself to admit.

“I do, please do help yourself, Lord Captain.”

Abelard is gently touching around the neck and shoulder burn while you reach into the medkit and find a vial with several pills. You recognize them and pick out one, tossing it onto your mouth without even bothering to look for water. After you swallow it and cough because of how dry it felt slipping down your throat, you believe this is as worse as it will get, but you are in no such luck.

While you were reaching for the kit, Abelard noticed the lifting of your shirt and the burn on your side. He rises the hem of the black fabric and inhales sharpy, seeing the extent of this particular injury.

“This one does look worse, let me-“ Abelard, so lost in his tending to your physical health, forgets himself and leans closer, lifting the shirt ever higher, craning his neck to see how far this burn extends over your pale skin.

“Wait-“ You try to pull the shirt down, but you’re too late.

“Lord Captain, what is…” The sentence left unfinished trails off in the air like a smoke from a blown out candle when Abelard lifts your blouse ever higher, exposing lower half of your back to him.

“Emperor’s blood.” First officer gasps and you close your eyes, accepting the change of events, then sigh.

“Are you done gawking at me, Abelard? I thought you wanted to help me with my wounds.” Finding composure at last despite the hammering pain, your voice becomes levelled but blank.

“I did, I do! But this… Lady Theodora said nothing of your… Your involvement with the Inquisition.” Do you hear a slight tremble in Abelard’s own voice? You can’t be too sure. Instead you turn, making the edge of the shirt slip out of the man’s fingers and cover the secret that you fully expected to keep as such for much longer than this.

Abelard looks at you, surprise etched in every crease of his expression and his eyes search yours for an explanation. You know what he’s thinking. That you must be some sort of agent or someone associated with the Most Holy Ordos, either past or present. After a moment of weighting your options and the benefits of all of them, you lift the side of your shirt again.

“Proceed.” You mean the wound and Abelard pauses, but then leans in, touching around the patch Forius applied yesterday, examining with a gentle but now reluctant touch.

“Do you mean to explain to me the meaning of your tattoo?” After a moment he asks in half a whisper and you can appreciate that at least the Seneschal is understanding the need for secrecy, the whispers, even if he doesn’t know the truth yet. “Are you…” A pause, his fingers still with their probing, and Abelard cannot bring himself to look at you. “Who are you?”

You listen to the ancient chrono tick in an absolute quiet of the room and briefly close your eyes. With anything that happened so far, you truly didn’t expect such turn of events, but most likely you should’ve, considering that absolutely nobody expected the havoc that Kunrad’s betrayal caused either.

And you need Abelard as an ally. He fought valiantly in battle, his loyalty to the Rogue Trader and whoever has the title is unwavering. Sharing the truth will benefit you and your cause more than trying to hide it.

“I’m a High Interrogator Volenta van Halvek of His Majesty’s Most Holy Inquisition’s Ordo Hereticus.” The title slips off your tongue as easy as honey and it feels like hours pass before Abelard reacts in any way, nodding before resuming his examination. Whatever he is thinking of the reveal – you cannot guess because the man’s face is lowered.

“Are you an actual heir to the von Valancius dynasty or is that too a lie?” This time you are sure you hear a degree of anger and maybe even a hint of hurt pride, but decide to let it slide. Generally, you would punish such disrespect, but you need Abelard on your side, so you suppress your annoyance.

“Mind your words, Abelard. But yes, I am an actual heir. Holy Ordos and the conclave of Koronus Expanse decided it’s for the best if I don’t come in with my rosette swinging. I was to be an heir as any other in Theodora’s retinue.”

“And reporting back, I suppose.” Abelard grumbles and lowers your shirt, noticing some of the burned skin go underneath the waist of your pants. You notice his gaze and raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not taking off my pants.” You say and when Abelard nods, you continue. “And do not worry, I fully aim to take duties of a Rogue Trader seriously. I’m not the first member of the Golden Throne to be in both positions at once.”

“No, you are not, but I want to make clear that prosperity of the von Valancius protectorate has been my duty and calling from the moment I joined Lady Theodora’s retinue.”

“I do not doubt your loyalty nor will I ignore the needs of the dynasty. But I do recommend you keep this between us, Abelard.”

While you are talking, the Seneschal retreats from you, leaving the vial of pills on the desk as he puts away the medkit. At the same time you stand, stuffing the edges of shirt into your pants with less strain, because the medicine has begun to work, and put on your coat. But when you speak last words, a threat of the Inquisition’s wrath laced in every letter, Abelard stops and gives you a long, but serious look, his eyes boring into you with unwavering certainty.

“Of course, Lord Captain. It’s just… an unexpected revelation. But that explains a few things as well.” He takes the chair he was using back to its former place, and returns to your desk, now appropriately standing before it while you consider something for a moment, stuff the vial into your pocket and then walk to him.

“I trust you to be as loyal to me and my leadership as you have been to Lady Theodora’s.”

“Of course, Lord Captain.” Yet the man doesn’t bow his head, now clearly seeing you in a completely different light than he had before, even when leading you to your new chambers.

“Good!” With a smile that catches Abelard slightly off-guard you clasp your hands behind you, enjoying the sensation of pain retreating from your body. “Now let’s go pay a visit to High Factotum.”

During the short lift travel and equally short walk to where Janris is talking to a Bridge enforcer, you wonder what Abelard is thinking, but from his completely composed expression you cannot really tell. You can take a guess and most likely an accurate one. That the Seneschal is rethinking everything he thought he knew about you, that he thinks about what these news mean for the future, for him, for the dynasty that he served for so many decades.

“Lord Captain, pleased to see you, what can I help you with? Master Werserian.” Janris’ smile in his wide face seems a genuine one after he quickly dismisses the enforcer to greet you and Abelard.

“I want the painting in my study to be replaced with one of my own. Find a painter after you remove the old portrait.” You begin and Janris quickly takes out a dataslate, tapping at it.

“It will be done. And I think we have one surviving painter, I will send her to your chambers immediately. Anything else?”

You pause, thinking, returning to the Lord Captain’s chambers in your minds eye, and then remember the musical organ.

“What kind of records are stored with my personal musical organ?” You ask, feeling Abelard’s inquisitive look on the side of your face.

“Odes to the Emperor and to our brave troops, Your Ladyship. Do you want those changed?”

“No, keep them, but I also want Inquisitorial odes added as well, as many as you can find.”

“It will be done, my Lady.” High Factotum taps at the dataslate and Abelard leans to your side.

“Don’t you think that’s a little bit too on the nose, Lord Captain?” He whispers and you are unable, and choose not to, hide the mischievous hint in your smile.

“Just wait till you hear how I will be renaming the flagship now that it is rightfully mine.” You whisper back and when Jaris rises his eyes to you, curious for any further orders, you exhale, experiencing lightness for the first time since your arrival.

Feeling like you are where you are supposed to be, you smile. “Nothing else, Janris.” And after the man scurries away in a hurry that his hefty bulk allows him, you look at Abelard. “Now, show me the way to the Astropath Choir.”

[imhereformr]

Saw this. Thought it seemed fun to share the opinions I have that none of you asked for. I'd credit the original creator of it, but I found like 5 people claiming it's theirs 🤷🏻‍♀️

Favourite character: Musa

I feel like this one needs little explaining.

She's been my favourite since I was 9/10 (which, yes, was in 2004 when the show first came out). I'm pretty sure Musa had a major influence on my current taste in women (that is, dark haired tomboys)

Least favourite character: Faragonda

I've got issues with this shady bitch. She acts like she's all for helping her students and then turns around and keeps major secrets from them. Not to mention she sends teenagers on death missions (Saladin gets a pass on this cause that's literally what his students are at Red Fountain to do and Griffin doesn't do it cause she's a queen).

All in all, fuck this woman and her fake-ass grandma attitude.

Favourite villain: Darcy

Yes, specifically Darcy. Stormy is close behind, but I just don't like Icy enough for the trix as a whole to be my favourite.

Darcy not only has, by far, the coolest powers on this show but she's also the most interesting villain. Whereas all the other villains are obviously in it for power or for fun (looking at you, Stormy), it seems like Darcy isn't quite as set on power. She's putting in the effort, but I feel like, if it weren't for Icy (mostly) and Stormy, she would never have seeked out that power.

But also her character design is beautiful. I mean, the 70s aesthetic… amazing.

Least favourite villain: Tritannus

I just really don’t like looking at him.

Also I feel like his story is weak af. Just give him some land (water?) to be duke of or something.

Also also that Tritannus/Icy thing 🤢

Most overrated: Flora

BEFORE YOU SEND ME ANGRY MESSAGES: I do not HATE Flora.

I just don’t understand why people love her so much. I just don't think she’s interesting enough. Canon Flora is boring. She has no spice. All of her flavour comes from what the fans have made of her.

Fanon Flora, love her dearly. Canon Flora, equivalent to flour (heh, get it? Flour, Flower).

Most underrated: Timmy

A king.

This man does not get the love and appreciation he deserves. Not only is he brilliant, he is also adorably nerdy, he is kind, he is loyal, he is patient, he is a god-tier boyfriend, he is a lovable and honest friend. 

TLDR: He is too good and pure for this world.

If you dislike this man, kindly remove yourself from my page. That shit will not be tolerated. This is a no Timmy slander area.

Favourite season: Season 2

This season holds both some of my least favourite episodes as well as my most favourites. We’ve got an interesting relationship, me and season 2.

That being said, it holds a special place in my heart. Mainly because of the Musa/Riven development, but also the addition of Aisha.

Least Favourite season: Season 5

I only picked season 5 because i don’t think ive ever seen season 6 or 7 fully. I’ve seen parts of season 6 (the ones that pertained to Musa and Riven), but I don’t think that’s enough for me to judge it properly.

Season 5 is just bad all around: mediocre villain, juvenile, probably some bad Bloom/Sky drama that I blocked from memory, that infuriating episode where they forced Tecna and Timmy to go on a irl date, that stupid ass plot where Musa thought Riven was cheating on her, the fucking ridiculous Helia/Flora/Krystal drama.

Favourite fairy form: Enchantix

Beautiful. Classic. Ethereal.

Least favourite fairy form: Sirenix

The Sirenix song, an absolute bop. Sirenix itself, hard no. It’s just… 🤮🤮

Now, again, I am not considering season 6 and 7 as I haven’t seen them properly. Butterflix is a strong contender for least favourite, though.

Favourite episode: Season 2 Episode 15 – The Show Must Go On (Magic in My Heart in 4kids)

Musa performing for the first time in the show. Musa and her dad starting to work on their relationship. Riven putting himself out of his comfort zone for Musa. It’s beautiful 🥲🥲🥲

Least favourite episode: Season2 Episode 9 – Professor Avalon’s Secret (The Angel of Doom in 4kids)

The one where Tecna trades in her base fairy form's hat for a tinfoil hat.

This episode gives me so much secondhand embarrassment.

Favourite couple: Musa and Riven

I mean…. Yeah, obviously.

Least favourite couple: Aisha and Roy

Nabu should never have died

But he did and I have begrudgingly accepted that

BUT FFS LET AISHA MOURN. You made Nabu her soulmate, made them literally perfect together, killed him, made her rage for A SINGLE episode, be sorta sad for the rest of season 4 and the BOOM! Season 5 happens and she’s basically forgotten Nabu ever existed

NO! NON! JE REFUSE! C’EST D’LA CRISS DE MARDE. NON. NON. NON. NON. NON.

Also Roy’s hair looks like a highlighter. Like, y’all make fun of onion boy's hair (as do I because seriously why the fuck is with Riven's hair design), but this man looks like an office supply that has a single use. Onions are not only good to cook with in almost every single recipe in existence (barring desserts) (I am a very bad cook, so do not question me on this) (I am a great baker though, so I know for a fact that onions and dessert is a no no). but they’re also great for throwing at people!

Favourite sidekicks: The Specialists

Look me in the eyes and tell me you believe these idiots are anything more than sidekicks to their girlfriends.

If you said yes, ask yourself if you can remember them going on a single mission without it being to assist the winx since season 1? No. That’s right. You can’t.

These pretty boys exist solely to assist their girlfriends on missions and be eye candy. That’s it. That’s their purpose in life and they are excelling at it.

Least favourite sidekick: The pets

I hate the pixies, but they had their funny moments. These things on the other hand are abso-fucking-lutely useless.

[mshexley]

My biggest pet peeve of HOTD is that they took away Rhaenys’ black hair and in doing that they oversimplified the whole thing with Jace, Luke, and Joffrey.

Like no Viserys rejected it is not solely powered by his unconditional love for Rhaenyra, it's also because it's a flimsy rumor that says "what if that man that's always with her is the father?" "oh you mean the man thats her sworn sword and is supposed to be constantly with her?"

And I feel like some of the oversimplification comes from the reveal of Cersei's kids not being Robert's kids but the reveal is more than that. One kid being blonde like Cersei is nothing but ALL OF THEM being blonde when historically every time a Baratheon is involved, their genetics clean house??? That's why it's suspicious.

The reason that it's only the green council that cling to that rumor is because A: they're tryna pull a Saera 2.0 and B: no one else thinks it's worth the trouble to pursue because it can always be argued down just as fiercely.

It’s still very much a gene pool thing where just cause both your parents have blonde hair doesn't guarantee you'll have blonde hair especially when brown or black hair is in the gene pool. The only time the Targ's typical features seem to win out is when the genes they're competing with are also recessive ones (like Alicent's red hair), in which case that's when the magic of their genes locks in for an easy win. (should also be noted that with Orys Baratheon being believed to be Aegon I's brother, that means he has that same magic in his blood)

Like, yeah, Rhaenyra’s first three kids didn’t come out with white hair but look at who their legal grandmother is? Rhaenys Targaryen, Daughter of Jocelyn “Our Seed is Strong AF” Baratheon and that’s on Laenor's side. It was pure luck that Laena & Laenor came out with white hair. On Rhaenyra's we have have the Arryns who don't have a typical look and can easily have many brown haired Arryns in the gene pool (Rodrik is only described as balding, Jeyne is a redhead, Jon Arryn is a blonde, and then Robin is brown haired).

This may not be the case but it COULD be and that's why its too complicated to pursue especially when the moment she has kids with Daemon the brown hair goes away. You can argue that it's because Harwin is dead BUT it can also be argued that Baratheon genetics is no longer a factor since there's no Baratheons leading to Daemon (its unadulterated incest from Aegon/Rhaenys' line to Daemon).

Even the assumption that Harwin Strong fathered bastards is the assumption that only stems from Lucamore Strong. "Oh if Lucamore was horny then why shouldn't we assume that Harwin was also horny?"

Even Rhaenyra being slutty is taken with a grain of salt because it comes from a man (Criston) that was reportedly spurned by her and who even Alicent herself didn't trust around her so even when she and Cole aligned, she probably still didn't believe him.

It's so small but taking away Rhaenys dark hair literally just (whether intentional or not) justifies rumors that LITERALLY only exist to try and steal the crown from Rhaenyra.

And this is not me being "stan team black" (even though green stans will take it that way anyway) but it's recognizing that the story's intention of trying to turn these nobles into secretly good people who are just "doing their bestest uwu but being a noble is so hard 😢" does an injustice to the original story when every key player was fully willing to rip the realm apart for a throne.

Anyways this rant was a disguise for Ashgan's gofundme. She's 20 years old and has to help care for six other family members with a goal of £15,000. So if you're able to spare some money and are willing, consider donating to her.

[seumyo]

hi! try this :) https://pin.it/13pr3efSy https://pin.it/135PXK007

THIS LOOKS SO FUN WHAT 😼 ofc I’ll try it out (there’s a lot of yapping under the cut WHAHHEJW)

HAIKYUU!! VER. + MHA VER. (for those who want to try !)

The Haikyuu!! one I can definitely see, mwahaha 🙂‍↕️

My glorious underrated loml Aran as my classmate, he would not be too thrilled to have me as a classmate/seatmate for the sole reason that I talk a lot whenever I’m comfortable with the person I’m talking to (I speak too quickly irl HELPP). That or I’m just silently next to him (I have a bad case of scary resting face which makes me look unapproachable and crabbed) 😭 BUT I’M A SMART AND NICE COOKIE SO ARAN PLS DON’T BE SCARED TO APPROACH ME 🤧

HECK YES 🔥🔥 KIYOKO AS MY MENTOR 🥳 she will guide me through the basics of manager duties while I ask her about track and field (I’m unathletic as heck and embarrassed myself twice when I tried to play volleyball—I made the team though in elementary as a middle blocker 🔥🔥 but not in high school tho bcs that was a dark and tough time 😔)

Ushijima WAKATOSHI?? USHIWAKA?? give him a smooch as I step on a stepping stool 😚 He would strain his neck just to look at me whenever I talk to him and that’s just romantic 🥰🫵 pure love idk about y’all. I had a classmate in high school who was 6 flat (182.88cm) AND BOY HE WAS TALL 😮 I can’t be seen standing next to Ushiwaka because that man would get scoliosis if he was in a relationship w/ me (the only way to salvage this relationship is to just hug each other and no eye contact/kissing to save both of our skeletal systems)

RIVAL?? KAORI?? nah, that’s my bff 😋

Suna as my bff is surprising 🫣 ig we share a lot in common (probably both have mild scoliosis) I WILL BE THE RECEIVER OF HIS RANT ABT THE MIYA TWINS’ ANTICS as i cry over the hardships of being a third-year (I’m getting high school flashbacks as an incoming freshman) 😼

This confirms it. I am the middle child of the Haiba family. But the height makes other ppl question it (I’m def adopted 😨) I’M ROLLING ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING 😭😭 I just match their energies well <33

Inarizaki as my school 😝 I am definitely on a scholarship bcs in no way am I able to afford that school for three years of high school🙂‍↕️ (I’m cooked cause I barely pass scholarship exams)

And Osamu as my childhood friend just ties this all together 😋

The MHA one.. now buckle up

My queen sugarplum honeybunch darling lovey dovey Momo 🙇 I love her sm. She could run me over with one of her expensive cars and I would wipe and polish the car

Bakugou and Kirishima as my bffs... I’m running 😭 jk I love them with all of my heart BAKUGOU WOULD NOT STAND MY SLOWNESS “what do you mean you forgot the formula when we’re calculating for time? we learned about this yesterday, dipshit!” isn’t he fun 🥰 my constant “huh?” would have me blown up to another dimension <33 Now Kiri, Kiri is another story. I love this man, this man and his personality. So we just get along and make manly friendship bracelets 🔥

Cementoss as my teacher.. I WOULD BE HIS FAV STUDENT NGL I love Modern Lit. My strongest subject, the light in the dark times (cough cough physics) YESSIR

RIVAL?? TODOROKI?? i can see it 🧐🧐 season 1 todoroki was cold af tho 🥶 i would cry internally if he ever rolls his eyes at me 😔 darn nepo babies 😓😓 JK I think we’d get along in the later seasons, but the rivalry would probably be academic (my self-insert quirk is just.. not built to go toe-to-toe with his ☹️)

Navel Laser.. chat my brother and I are cooked. Aoyama as my brother 10/10 but getting tummy aches after we use our Quirks + the same time as period cramps?? put me on the dnr list and never ressurect me ever again -10000/10

Sato and I just sitting next to each other like 👁️👁️

Mineta as my childhood friend—how about NO 😁

me when this silly little activity turned into an unofficial alternate version of my self-insert lore:

[zatdummesmadchen]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers 💜💜

*gasps* of course!!! Tyvm!!! I don't have many friends but I could tag some of my mutuals who might or might not like me (*^-゜)vThanks! In no particular order:

CATS !!!!

adorable creatures. can do wrong. very spicy, sweet, and have lots of personality. stupid af but very elegant. they are so silly :3 and do funny tricks, which is very thearatic. very much love. come in many shapes, forms, and colours. I love the ones that look completely moronic.

Look at these idiots. pure beauty. They have nothing in their brains ‼️‼️‼️ ofc I luv beauty/sad cats too, I just relate more to these dumbpussies.

Reading/watching

I love reading anything basically, mythologies, psychology, myths, different cultures, planets, stars, biology, sometimes politics especially when it comes to human rights and class systems, novels and fanfics, especially when it's dark, raw, messy. Wish I had made a list but my life is such a mess that I can't keep track of things the way I wish I could.... but!!! I love silly slow romances, yknow victorian or Christian vibes because the stakes are so high that makes you go- Ooooooooh I see u honhon. Love cultural and ancient romances, desi, East Asian, slavic. It doesn't even have to be about romance. I just love knowing about different things!!!! Especially countries.

Also watching. Space videos, myths & legends, horror, thriller, dark shows. I just don't really get the time to watch things... also many animes!!!

Food/cooking/bake

FOOD!!!! Seafood, vegetables, chicken, meat, dairy whatever!!! Make it flavorful and spicy and I will eat it 😋 especially trying new food or making it from different cultures. I don't have any allergies hehe and am not picky. I would also love to bake and make many things one day!!! And share it with my family or friends mostly. Also new drinks!!!

I want to make this cute recipe book, mostly some from my mom's/dad's cooking and add some stuff from different cultures !!! And basically pass it down to my children so they can try it too.

Hmm. Next.... Writing??? Editing???

Okay, so I do love writing stuff, poems, drafts, my own opinions, stories, and fanfics, and I love!! Making my posts look decent, at the very least. Some aesthetic edits and posts!!! I think it can be stressful, though, especially when there isn't much engagement or my brain is mushy, but I still love it in a way. I love playing with pictures, coming up with colour combinations, and all. It just... It feels nice. Especially because I like my thoughts to look orderly, neat. Otherwise, I genuinely feel like losing my mind.

This is embrassing but.... conversations, comments, thoughts

I actually really like it when people want to share their thoughts with me, their ideas and opinions, maybe just some asks even. No matter how silly it is. I like talking with people, even though it can be so anxious because I low-key think that everyone is out to get me lmaoooo. But yeah, I like it when someone takes some time to talk with me, even if it's just a tag on a bizarre meme. It makes me feel connected with others. Embrassing to admit it tbh pfft.

There are many more things but meh I will end it here!!! Thank you very much for this ask ☆ ✨️🌻🐝

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Hi so um, can i request a Yandere Alpha Germany with a gn or (if possible) male Siren reader who's cocky af, and probably has attempted to drown Germany once

Going to go with a Male reader because I 100% recognize this page is a cesspool of me drooling over Alfred like a demented maniac and also mainly caters to female readers so I need to diversify and cater to all, so here we go.

The angered German blonde wags his tail and paces back and forth in his study. He’d been up all night with wide ears pointed up and at attention. He was planning how to capture the siren that tended to drown some of his own soldiers, most of which may have been betas, but when they dared to try to drown him, that’s where he drew the line.

He grinded his teeth at the memory. Fists balled in pure rage at the fact that you could drag him to the depths of the sea nearly.He rubs his bandaged forearm. You made him feel weak. Something that Alpha’s were never supposed to feel. You’d found a fragility within his rigid personality. Ludwig hated that. The scene played out in his mind like a feedback loop from hell.

It was a full moon; the stars glistened in the sky, and there was a calm that washed over the usually uptight Alpha. He had just finished a dozen requests to capture (R2P’s), and some of them were rebellious omega scientists who’d been helping others escape or change their ranks. They defied the natural order, and they needed to be dealt with swiftly. With his ego boosted on high from his recent wins, he worried not about some of the legends he’d heard about the sirens and mermaids that inhabited the waters of the Italian coastline.

His bare feet trailed along the pearl-white sand as the sound of the smooth undulation of the rhythmic waves eased the rest of the tension that resided within his muscles for the day.

Y/N was watching the German General from afar on one of the fairy chimneys molded by the sometimes fearsome waves. Their wide (Eye color) had taken in their animalistic features. A dog. One that could survive water but not for an extended amount of time if dragged to the outer depths of the water.

‘He’s cute I wonder if he can swim.’ You mused to yourself, wondering how you could allure him to the ocean. ‘I might want to play with him though he has nice muscles, but I can tell he’d put up quite the fight.’ Your tail whipped behind you casing small waves just beneath the dark navy waters. ‘How fun it would be to hear his screams because by the looks of it I’m sure he’s relished in the sounds of others begging for mercy, with their pleas only falling on deaf ears. Those scratches and scars all of them tell a story.’ You decide that it might be fun to sung out a short siren tune one to relax the senses to draw him in.

Ludwig's dark brow ears lift up higher into the air he’s caught wind of the light melody that is floating like bubbles from the ocean. He’s skeptical at first but allow himself to be more alert but not ready to fight.

‘Seems that I’m not alone out here. Maybe someone has decided to be on a small boat and play a late-night love song of sorts; after all, Italians are known for that romance and vhat ever.’

After a few minutes go by, and with no luck of the German trying to approach the water, you decide to try another tactic to make the calm waves more enticing. You use one of your spells to make the waves have an enticing sparkle.

‘Was zur Hölle? Unmöglich!” The melody that you had been singing for a while was begging to hit Ludwigs' mind and have a slight effect.

‘That’s it, doggy boy, come to your death.’ Your voice gradually got a little louder so his mind could have a higher dosage of your hypnotic effect.

Ludwig’s feet inched towards the water until they were fully submerged.

Y/N began to venture closer to his target.

‘Oh this will be fun.’ He thought to himself as he prepared for his attack. ‘He should be lulled enough by now’ Within about five feet of him, his attention is still concentrated on the now-illuminated water that has an enchanting glow.

Who would ever want to take their eyes off of this magnificent sight?

Still in a trance and still unaware. Ludwig crouches down so that he can touch the water’s surface.

“No way can this be real.” As his palm is submerged in the cool waters so he could investigate what made the Italian sea so magical he felt something wrap around his right ankle.

“Verfluchte Scheiße!” (Fucking Hell) He’d fallen back into the shallow parts of the water.

He’d fallen for the sirens trick.

“Awwww don’t be afraid~” You tease. “I’m just a humble siren curious as to what a man of your stature is doing in a serene place like this? Don’t you have chaos to wreak somewhere?”

“ZHE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?” He barks.

“Oh, poor Alpha. Afraid of a Siren? Hasn’t anyone told you that we’re real?” You allow yourself to show your sharpened teeth. “Afraid to be a victim instead of prey?” You let out a hearty laugh. It was nice to scare the shit out of a haughty Alpha every now and again. Legendary creatures like you deserve respect.

“You have no idea who you're talking to, you Omega of sorts!” He breaks free from the end of your tail. He moves so that he was standing again and from up close he had a far more imposing figure at 6 feet tall.

“Oooooh I’m so scared~” You back up a little. Sensing that if you stayed too close he’d bring you back to one of the many facilities and strip you of any freedom you had. Only to be sold off to some asshole as entertainment.

“I’m a head General and I’m the only one who can demand respect.” He spits out. The veins in his head were beginning to show.

“Ooooooooooooooooh.” You give him a wink as you summon your spear. You were going to take this asshole down. “Someone needs to cut down that overblown ego the lot of you Alpha’s tend to have.” You try to stab him directly in his heart but he backs away and puts his arms up for protection. You miss and make a deep gash within his forearm. Some of his blood gushes out quickly dissolving into the salty waters. You only heard a slight grunt from the now irritated Alpha General.

“You’re defiance is not cute you mermaid or whatever zhe hell you are!” As he tries to lunge at you, you swipe your tail in his face flinging some sand directly into his eyes. You weren’t going to be his victim tonight. A shocked yelp could be heard. You’d blinded your victim and once again your tail was on his ankle as you pulled into the depths of the glimmering sea. His only falls in with an audible thud as he hit the water.

“I’m not some weakling!” You shout out and you began to swim forward. Before you could even get within 5 feet deep of the ocean. Ludwig grabs onto one of the eroded rocks even with his eyes still closed. When you realized that you were unable to yank him further. You felt a few harsh kicks to your tail and released the angered General.

Ludwig used some of the water to wash his eyes clean of the sand and readied himself for a fight. He reached for his gun.

Had swam back to your original fairy chimney so you could see where he’d gone. He was swiving his head around searching for you.

“COME BACK OUT AND FIGHT ME BEAST!”

“Oh booooo how rude!” You yell out to him. A few gunshots fire off in your direction. “Time to bail. Until next time you cute but annoying German Dog man.” You giggle to yourself as you swim away. Ludwig was only able to hear an audible splash but couldn’t see where you’d escaped.

“Damn it. He got away.”

[a-bucket-of-trash]

Hey my favourite Kelvin writer 🥰

I really love your analysis (and of course all the stories you write) of Kelvin and I was wondering what type of music do you think Kelvin listens to? And what style of clothes would result from that?

I have this idea (or more like a wish/obsession) in my head that he'd listen to rock and metal 😏 maybe not death metal but at least some metalcore and, probably due to me being a Rockabella irl, I so wish for Kelvin to listen to some nice classic and 50s rock while maybe dressing up slightly into that direction. You know those jeans, converse sneakers (or boots) and maybe a tight white t-shirt combined with a leather jacket or something cuter like a white shirt, suspenders and a bow tie. It would look so cute on him 😍

What are your thoughts on this? I'm so curious 😁

Hello Raven! The amazing writer Raven uwu a honor! ♥

Do you want me to analize and do THEORIES? AGAIN? I sadly can't do that now... I'm actually too busy to OK HEAR ME OUT

I fully damn agree with you and is fully my headcannon. With the 0.5% of what we can hear of the music he is listening on the helicopter, it have a rhythm more inclined to the rock side, specially since we can listening what it seems to be the drums. Also, as a metal head myself, we can't literally don't listening some rock in a place so metal as a fucking helicopter, I mean, come on, is like say that you love candies and you don't eat one in a trip. Also there is nothing more metal and rad and punk that just listen rock in a middle of a mission as you give 43 fucks about the orders?

He is like "pfff orders? I will see what the fuck I do on land, let me smash this blast against my ears OMG I'M DEAF NOW, what they said about don't hear metal too high to not break my ears was TRUE!"

He seems like rock- punk rock for me, probably some metal in his hard days, specially glam metal like Motley Crue. He also seems to have a (very obvious) soft side, so I guess, in his softie days, he would be listening soft rock, some Queen and Bowie, and full romantics guitars songs country style to which he would fully want to badly slow dance with his SO.

And I think he would secretly likes 80's Disco. I mean, he have the face of someone who drink a beer more of the usual and end crying af and half bad singing Total Eclipse Of The Heart by Bonnie Tyler. Kelvin is the kind of dude who play (badly) to be a hardcore but sing "I'm a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world ♫" with the headphones at max, vacumming the living room, dressed in dark colors with the pastel color apron of his wife/partner.

Kelvin is the kind of dude who will say that certain pop song is too mainstream for his taste but will have it hidden in an album in Spotify. He would pretend is too metal punk pure blood but will have a favorite reggaeton, and he will love it, and dance it hidden in the bathroom as try to twerk to the mirror.

He would listen a variety of genders because he loves music, but he would never confess it because he have a hard appearance to maintain (even when he is a softie, but well, mostly of the most metal punk heads are fucking softies).

And clothes? SAME, VERY AGREE. Early rock style, very Travolta style (I think he would be a mega fan of the movies of the young Travolta, like Saturday Night Fever and Pulp Fiction). Specially if is in a "playfull party mood".

I think he would normally wear something cool and chill, but definitely with a leather jacket like:

In lazy/ too busy to be cool days, he would be pretty basic: hoodie and done, move on. But his wardrobe would be the most basic boring color palette, like, boy would have 25 shades of grey, black, dark blue and brown. A miracle is find something dark green or even red. Boring ass. Jeans, jeans jeans jeans... baby you have only jeans??? (he would say no and pull a pair of the most basic black pants ever)

He would totally have ONE good fancy jacket like this and will be the most formal clothes he can have (before jump to full wedding/funeral black suit that he would have because being militar he would totally assist to way too many funerals)

So... YEAH lmao I again get lost in the theories XD Was super fun tho! Thanks for the ask! I love you a tooooooooooon ♥

By the way, this kind of random crap would be also his style. Funny random unexpected trash that he would send you a Saturday at 2am because is drunk but is thinking about you.

[comparativetarot]

Queen of Swords. Art by Nara Lesser, from Neurotic Owl’s Faerytale Tarot.

The Marsh Woman

If you’re not familiar with the Girl Who Trod on a Loaf I am unsurprised – it’s another fairytale from bisexual disaster Han Christian Andersen, and very much in the vein of The Red Shoes – awful selfish girl gets horribly punished, repents and is saved through the compassion of others. This kid’s a real piece of work, though – she starts off pulling the wings of flies for fun, so that’s creepy AF. She gets adopted by a rich woman purely because she’s pretty (as one does) and has to be ordered to go back and visit her poor family once a year. The rich woman, who seems ok despite her shitty taste in adoptive kids, gives her a nice fresh loaf of bread to take to her family, but on the way she’s crossing a boggy area and doesn’t want to get her shoes dirty so she throws the bread on the ground and steps on it.

As soon as she does that she’s frozen in place and pulled down through the ground, first to the domain of the Marsh Woman, who creates fog and mist by brewing beer underground, and then further down to a dark horrible place where she stays frozen like a statue while flies and snakes and toads crawl over her and hot tears from her mother in the world above fall down onto her face.

A lifetime later, she’s redeemed through asking for forgiveness and the grace of a dying old woman who pitied her as a child and remembers her again on her deathbed. She’s turned into a little bird and set free, and once she’s collected and given away enough crumbs to equal the weight of the loaf she ruined, she gets to go to (presumably) heaven.

It’s really beautifully written, you can read the whole story here. Anyhow, when I was looking for an older character who could be a wise, mysterious figure the Marsh Woman seemed perfect.

[nyxthejinx]

Hello, it's been a while since I wrote, the university is crazy. Location: Sumeru desert. Local time: Midnight "Wow wow, my dear big brother found himself a new pet to call family…they're so cutesy I get…Yuck!" -Scarlet swung her greatsword and threw it between Diluc and the traveler, hitting a column and making it fall and almost crushed them. The Scarlet Fury of the Fatui let out a loud laugh that seemed like the laugh of the devil himself, raised her hand and returned her command to it, from her body came an aura that did not belong to any elemental order of this world. -

"What did Dottore do to you?" -Diluc was disconcerted, in front of him was the only person for whom he would break the heavens, he almost did not recognize her, not because of her Fatui uniform, but because of the murderous look she projected towards the man- "Concentrate on the fight, big brother" -she replied with a grim smile, charging her attack against the red-haired man with the greatsword charged with dark energy- -Diluc could barely contain the blow, gritting his teeth fighting to return that tremendous force. The traveler attacked the Fatui from behind, but he dodged it in a fluid movement, and the blonde had no choice but to crash into Diluc for that maneuver- -A flash of purple electricity was detected by the Fatui who dodged a downward attack from Cyno- "Fatui… Your actions will be judged against my strength" -the general of the Mahamatra speaks seriously, very enraged by the danger in which the traveler found himself. While the Fatui looked at him with eyes full of sparkles of stars and his cheeks flushed, accompanied by a smile full of jubilation-

… "And then we were tied, and he told me that next time I won't be so lucky" -the redhead Fatui muffled a cry into the pillow she was hugging, resembling a love-struck fifteen-year-old- "The General of the Mahamatra is such an electrifying man"

"Less fantasies of lovers and more attention to the next one, that Cyno guy broke an arm, four ribs and not to mention that your uniform was shattered" -Dottore furiously reminded the teenager of the results of his confrontation against the man- "I heard you like that game of cards and dice, should I get you some new cards or a custom case instead?"

"Damn it, Scarlet"

{In the city of Sumeru there was a bedridden Cyno with various sections of his body in casts and an angry ranger guarding him}

I swear- I SWEAR I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT THAT CONCEPT. I swear I try to write a single chapter, but it goes down the drain because I change my mind like, instantly. I've been shaping and reshaping this story so much during these months + every update contributed to that 🦍

I cannot thank you enough for fanning the flame because this had me feeling all silly and goofy (as if we weren't talking about a war criminal who's probably banned from 6/7 regions of Teyvat). The fact that it was a Childe x reader doesn't mean I won't lose my shit over that dad-jokes-spitting-machine we love so much.

They're enemies to lovers, your honour, idc that cyno is a justice fanboy. Reader is mostly crazy af, but they also spit some rational good shit from time to time, things that will have Cyno wracking his brain. Things that are, like, a new mad and feverish perspective on the world, one he never considered and maybe isn't so wrong.

It's such a wicked concept, who's gonna give in first? I think no one would be able to abandon their path, honestly.

Cyno can see where they're getting with their logic, but their ways are simply wrong and so deranged. There are times when he catches a glimpse of the real rag!sibling, and he thinks it'd be amazing if he could free them from their ties with the fatui. But he knows it's just a silly fantasy.

While reader finds Cyno's devotion to lawfulness cute, to say the least. He's so pure and precious, but also deadly, of course they'd find him attracting. It's not enough to stop them from dirtying their hands, though... They've been feasting on violence all their life, as if they'd stop now.

They'll show their weird affection through violence and murder attempts </3

But yeah I'm gonna review this story again bye aheuwheh

[myimmortaltribute]

EpIsOdE 2 SeAsOn 1

HIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM SO excited to present to u the second episode of my series BLACK ROSE* Hope You EnJoY!4

It was a week after what had happened and I was still shocked af. Luckily with the principal'sspell time and space went back to normal so it was as if nothing had happened so people weren't dead or injured or anything. I sighed a sigh of relief when I saw that my bff Trixy & Katya at school and that they were ok. They had no idea what happened (thank fuck). The principal took me into her office and made us a tea and took her dark glasses off, revealing her bright yellow eyes and began telling me a story.

Principal: Many years ago, Lilith and Dracula had a daughter. Lilith is a powerful hybrid: part human, part demon and part vampire. While Dracula is the supreme vampire, the most powerfull vampire of all. When the daugter was born, Viper, a demon that was Dracula's helper, became jelous of his power and decided to attack him and his family ans swore to find and kill his child to absorb all her powers and become the most powerful demon of all worlds. So Lilith and Dracula hypnotized a couple of humans to make them believe that the kid was their daughter and they escaped to save both her and themselves. Hoever,Viper was powerful so she found her so Dracula sent a boy to be her bodyguard and protect her. The boy's name is Damon Athame. The girl's name is Raven Morticia Lilith Blackrose, or maybe I should say… You are Dracula Blackrose's Daughter… After all, your third name is your mother's name…

I was too stunned to speak. I strugled to believe her words even after a week it all felt like a dream, but it wasn't, I had to acept the truth. The truth that it was all true. The fact that my parents werent realy my parents broke my heart at first but evenruallt it was easy for me to get over it (afte all I didnt resemble neither of them and nobody else in my family). After that story the principal explained other things to me like: Damon was a vampire & he was my dad's royal guard. Cory was a vampire with fire powers. Even Peter and Adam were vampires and Peter had ice powers and Adam had no powers. Most vampires get powers when they turn 16 but only pure vampires meaning vampires born from two vampire parents which Damon wasn't bc he was born a human and was turned.

I was doing research on vampires on my laptop when someone knocked on my room's door. (My room is very goth. Black walls, black bed and bedsheets and a black comforter with black pillows. I have black and purple lace curtains and a gothick desk. The walls have a bunch of posters on the walls of goth & metal bands like AC-DC Metallica & stuff & posters of vampires). Anway when they knocked i practically threw my pc away to prevent the people from seeing what I was looking at on my pc and pretended I was doing nothing. Luckily, it was my best friends.

Trixie: Hey Raven! Your mom let us in. How r u? Me: Hiii!! (hugs them) Im ok, what about you? Trixie & Katya: were good.

Trixy and Katya got inside and I closed the door before we set on my bed as always.

Trixie: So, I noticed some stuff… Me:…What do u mean? Trixie: You have a secret you still havent told ur bffs…

Trixie smiled maliciously and I went pale (even paler than i already was) thinking immediately I was caught and they found out my secret and my true identity.

Me: Se-se-secret??? I-I have no secret!!

I blurted out while sweating.

Katya: We saw u with Cory and the others! Trixi: Yea like, we dont care that u have other friends but when there the most popular guys in school, it would have AT LEAST been nice if u told us!! Me: Oh… U meant that… hehe…

I sighed a sigh of relief internally thanking god they didnt suspect anything. if they knew abt the existence of vampires and demons they would for sure be in big trouble and I didnt want to put there lifes at risk. (especially since they were my best friends since elementary school.)

Trixie: Now you gotta do something to make it up to us. Me: Uhm…what? Trixie: You introduce us to them, obv!

I sighed and laughed with them playfully rolling my eyes.

Me: Ok, ok… Ill call them and see if they wanna hang out since tomorrow is sunday and we dont have school. Trixie & Kayta: YAYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I called Cory and immediately decided to meet at the park. Trixie and Katya were dressed in pretty short dresses (still kinda goth but also a bit preppy) while I dressed how i always dress, black skirt with black fishnets and a black corset and a black top with black fingerless gloves and black boots + goth accessories + black make up. (I wasnt trying to show off its just my style). I was unconfortable bc it was clear they were using me to meet the guys but i loved my besties too much to say anything so i stayed quiet. When we arrived to the park they were already there. Damon said hi to me bedore every1 else and it made me feel buttefrlies in my stomach.

Trixie: Hi every one! We are Raven's friends! Peter: Its a pleasure to meet you madmoisel (he kisses her hand) Trixie: (a bit grossed out) Uh… hi.

Trixie turned twards Damon.

Trixy: HIIII u must be Damon. Raven ALWAYS tlks about u!!! (laughs)

I felt embarrassed. What was she saying??? Ofc I talked about him, bcause he was my crush, but I was doing that in private just like she would talk to me and Katya abt her crushes!! (Which were a different guy every week btw)

Damon: Ah… She talks about me? Really? (embarased) Adam: (interrupting them) And me? Does she talks abt me??? Trixie: ………………Idek who u are tbh. Adam: But…But…

The guys laughed and Cory started to talk abt something else to ease the tension and the general akwardness… While everyone was talking, after a while Damon got away from the group to come near me.

Damon: Raven… Me: Uhm…Yes…? Damon: I wanted to ask…How are you? Are you still shocked from what happened? Me: (stuttering and blushing) W-W-Well…NO! I-Im fine::!! Damon: I am your protector, you can tell me if you're not ok (MCR REFERENCE) (He takes her hand) Trixie: (interrupting) Heyyyyyyyyyyy what are u talking about? Come on share it with the group!

Damon turned around visibly irritated and let go of my hand b4 going towards the rest of the group

Trixie: U 2 are suspicious….. (goes tpards the rest pf the group)

At the end of the night Katya was cuddling with Peter and Trixie was cuddling with Adam on the bench while Sally was on her phone alone. I observed them and noticed immediately that there behavior was strange. When Trixie and Katya kissed thir new guys instead of closing there eyes, Katya looked towards Cory and Trixie looked at Damon, even tho the guys didn't even notice them in the slightest. At that point all was clear and obvious: they didnt just wanr to use me to meet the popular guys and become part of the popular friend group but they wanted to become popular by going out with Cory and Damon which every girl in school liked. I felt hurt and betrayed in my soul especially by Trixie bc she knew very well that I liked Damon but she was still trying to get w him, and then bc of their general behavior in that situation because they were leading on two guys who didn't do anything to them. In the end every1 went home. I threw myself on the bed HEARTBROKEN. I was about to go to sleep when I heard a notification on my phone. I opened it and blushed: It was Damon.

Damon: (text) Is your friend stupid or what? She stared at me the whole time while she was making out with Adam LOL And I think they were both too snobby and preppy. Idk who they thought they were impressing with those heels. You were definitely much prettier.

The text made me feel butterflies in my stomach again and it made me smile. We spent the night texting and fell asleep on facetime.