#when you think you are liberating a village and then you come in and everyone had been brutally murdered

[straightlightyagami]

the thing about the second story is like it makes you really think about the fact that people in the past were just people too, who felt tragedy and pain as much as anyone nowadays does. but statistically like there was so much more of it they'd have to experience in their lifetime (eg much more likely to see their child die) so i guess they'd necessarily have to learn not to let it break them

when i was a baby antivaxxer friends told my mom to not vaccinate me bc i’d become autistic (i am and it’s better than being dead ngl) which is so crazy to me bc 1. i had already almost died from infectious disease ??? 2. my grandpa (mom’s dad) grew up in a remote village and his family lived across the street from the graveyard and every summer almost every day they would see people carrying dead infants and young children to be buried in unmarked graves just wrapped in a blanket. like most people had some of their children die in infancy from diseases that can be easily prevented by vaccination and sanitation. this was in late 1950s - early 1960s

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! This is my first time requesting sorry if it’s bad .. but could you write one where reader used to be in a bit of an abusive relationship so when she got with Donna she wasn’t used to the kinda of care and sweet things she would do for her and doesn’t understand why Donna would do anything like that for someone like her. Then one day maybe they are out at the duke or something and reader is talking to an friend and Donna gets jealous and quiet on the way back and reader starts to get very anxious thinking Donna will do something to her like her last relationship. When they get home Donna is acting kinda weird and immediately goes to the basement after a little while of Donna being gone reader goes to confront her about it and then donna goes a little bit crazy and hits her fist on her workbench and then when she comes out of her little episode she’s you crying and feels really REALLY bad about it.

You can end it with smut or fluff I’m good with whatever. So sorry my grammar is buns I suck at writing and I love your story’s to I read them all the time!❤️

Yesss!!! Welcome to the requesting world!!! Thank you for your request and support!!! I'm sorry if it's a bit dark, and I have to say I didn't put smut due to the plot, but I hope you can enjoy it the same way!!! Sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

Demons of past, demons of mind

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, dark themes, mentions of abuse, Donna being Donna, mental health issues, slighty dark Donna, fluff

Word count: 7,930

Summary: You have your demons, she has them too...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

You never liked masses.

It's not that you had anything against the Black Gods or Mother Miranda, it's just that meeting the whole village, enduring those curious glances and unconsciously looking for signs of any threat weren't your favorite way to spend the time.

Staying alone in that big mansion wasn't the best option either. Besides, you knew that she didn't like the idea of ​​abandoning you. You couldn't be ungrateful. You would always do anything she asked of you.

Miranda's words slipped through your ears as you curled up on one of the first benches. You didn't want to be far from her. Villagers like you were supposed to be scared and respectful of the authorities of that place.

For you, the Four Lords weren’t an imminent danger, or at least they didn't make your chest knot or make you feel dizziness. Yes, you feared them, but that was long before you knew the true dangers of that place.

Knowing all your neighbors could be considered an advantage, it could seem cozy and comfortable, but in your case it wasn't exactly like that. As a young girl, barely 23 years old, you had been through too many hardships and none of them had to do with the influence of the Black Gods, or at least that's what you thought.

Your eyes danced around the crowd as your body slowly shrank. In your head you followed the witch's words, trying to count the time left until you were free again. You weren't scared, but without the lady in black at your side, you didn't feel safe.

“May the Black Gods protect us,” Miranda said, ending that sermon.

Everyone in the church repeated those words of liberation, forming a murmur that accompanied the movement. You had to assume that, of course, everyone present had better things to do than listen to Miranda's words since they wasted no time in getting up.

Before you could really be aware of everyone who had come to the old chapel, you stood up, getting closer to the altar, where the Four Lords patiently watched the walk of their flock.

A smile of relief ran across your face as you stood next to her, next to the veiled lady, with your eyes expectant, wanting to go home. Her head turned to you, silently, but surely with a smile under the black cloth.

Lady and doll stood up from their seat, walking slowly towards you.

“Wait a moment, Donna,” Miranda said when the doll maker had already let your arm hook into hers.  “I have something to tell you.”

You, disappointed, looked at her invisible face as she lowered her hand to yours.

“Your cupcake can wait outside, right?” the witch said, looking at you, making you feel those grey eyes on your chest, those eyes always covered by a golden mask.

“Wait for me, (Y/N), I'll be right there,” the lady whispered in your ear, letting your hand go and indicating with a gesture for you to go out.

You didn't insist. Being with Donna was always your priority, but to be honest, you weren't too interested in Miranda's affairs, you were much happier not knowing what she was up to that time.

You sighed as you nodded, slowly walking out of the chapel, away from the crowd. It would only be a moment and there was nothing to worry about, right?

In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked up at the sky. The clouds, as always, were as black as the Gods, as black as your past, dark, impenetrable, constant...

You sketched a smile as you waited, as you watched people slowly walk away, without paying attention to you, just as you liked to live. Questions and rumors were never to your liking.

“(Y/N),” a voice you recognized instantly, took you out of those thoughts of relief.

You hoped to have given up your torments, but that day had an unpleasant surprise in store for you.

Automatically, your head lowered to the snowy ground, showing an absurd respect that your body maintained even with the new circumstances.

“Becca,” you whispered without looking at that girl in the face.

“I see that you continue to get lost in your thoughts,” the girl sighed, approaching you with a smug smile. “Pathetic.”

“C-Can you leave me alone?” you asked in a small voice, feeling the girl's steps in the snow as a countdown to suffering. “I don't want to talk to you.”

“Of course, you don't want to talk to me, you never wanted to, right?” the girl said, crossing her arms. “I always had to force the words out of your mouth, how rude.”

“I-I have nothing to say to you, Becca,” you whispered, noticing how sweat began to accumulate on your hands.

“Oh, me neither,” she said mockingly, tilting her head. “I'm glad I don't have to put up with you anymore.”

“W-Well, then... what do you want?” you asked, your whole body stiff and tense. “You left me.”

“If I remember correctly, you provoked it, (Y/N),” Becca insisted, spitting out her words in an unpleasant way. “You never knew how to treat me properly.”

“Was it my fault?” you asked, backing away, drawing out some courage, the little you had left. “You made my life a hell.”

“Because of you, (Y/N), I see you still haven't learned to be assertive,” the girl murmured, shaking her head. “Luckily for you, you don't owe me anything anymore. My new girlfriend is better than you.”

“Do you hit her too?” you asked, with your tense gaze fixed on the ground.

“She behaves much better than you,” your ex hissed, blinking petulantly.

“I feel sorry for her,” you whispered, turning your head to the chapel door, wishing she would appear to save you.

“What did you say?” Becca asked, grabbing your arm tightly, causing the painful memories of your relationship to immobilize you. “You're still stupid. You may not be mine anymore, but I can still…”

“Hey!” a scream caught your attention.

Just when you thought you were about to receive another undeserved punishment, the girl let you go, surely, seeing the lady in black behind you holding the Angie doll, owner of that shrill voice.

“Donna,” you sighed, breaking free from Becca's grip and cowardly running to take refuge behind the lady.

“Who are you, stupid?!” Angie asked, with a demanding tone. It was impossible for you to tell if Angie was speaking, or Donna was the one demanding answers but you didn't really care who it was.

“Lady Beneviento, I...” your ex-girlfriend murmured, moving away from you. “N-Nobody, I'm nobody.”

“You're nobody? Fine, then get out of our sight,” Angie said, gesturing towards the road.

The girl shook her head as you tightly grabbed the arm of the woman in black, who remained motionless, threatening.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” Becca said, quickly fleeing the scene, causing the puppet to laugh triumphantly.

“If you come near her again, I won't be so kind, stupid!” Angie shouted while laughing amused. “Look how she runs, Donna, you scared her.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured discreetly, turning to look at you. “(Y/N), lasciami.”

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, realizing that you were holding your girlfriend with excessive strength, due to fear. “T-Thank you…”

“Thank you? Why? Who was it?” the doll maker asked, grabbing you gently and starting to walk, finally returning to the mansion.

“Nobody,” you murmured, finally finding the comfort of her body very close to yours as the village grew ever further away.

“You're lying to me,” the lady said, walking slower, looking at you, surely, with a frown.

“No, I...” you stammered. “It's just that...”

You didn't want to lie to Donna, but you never dared to talk about your past with her. Not out of fear, but rather so as not to remind the hell you lived through.

“Who was she, silly? It seems you knew each other,” Angie said, insisting, just like her owner.

“Yes, well, the truth is that she is... my ex,” you finally said, lowering your head without releasing the lady, who turned slowly, but didn’t stop walking.

“Your ex,” Donna repeated with a sigh, looking at you out of the corner of her eye through the gaps in her veil.

“She wasn't nice to me,” you said with a weak voice due to your horrible memories, with the pain of her slaps still impregnated in your cheeks. “I know I hadn't told you much about her, but I just didn't want to remember and…”

“So she was the reason you were crying when I met you,” the lady said, with a voice apparently devoid of emotions.

“Yes,” you said dryly, getting closer to the lady, who, apparently, understood your concern, surrounding you with her arms as if she wanted to protect you. “I didn't expect to find her again.”

“Do you want me to kill her?” she asked, making a shiver run down your spine.

“What?” you asked scared. “N-No, of course I don’t,” you said, shaking your head effusively, moving away from her. “No, Donna.”

“Hey, if that stupid girl hurt you, why don't you let Donna punish her? She'll do it gladly, right?” Angie said, with a sinister voice.

You regretted thinking, for a second, your answer.

“No, um…” you said, blinking a little nervously. “I don't want you to hurt anyone.”

“Mm, as you wish,” Donna commented, impassive at the idea of ​​finishing off that girl, something you still hadn't quite gotten used to.

Donna was a Lord. After all, the lives of the village were at her will.

“The past is the past,” you murmured after a tense moment of silence. “I like the present much more,” you said as you sighed in relief, leaning back against the lady, who nodded elegantly.

“A very wise phrase,” she said, kissing you through her veil. “You know I would do anything for you, tesoro.”

“I know,” you said with a tender smile, not having the capacity to thank her enough for that protection, that promise of not letting anything, or anyone, hurt you ever, ever again. “It will be better if we forget it, okay, darling?”

“Va bene, your wishes are my commands,” she said, interlacing her fingers with yours. “Let's go home, it's cold today.”

“Yes,” you said, thanking the affectionate gesture, her sinister closeness that was so different from what you had experienced before.

Yes, Donna was dangerous, sometimes even terrifying, but she loved you. She really loved you.

During that quiet walk, you began to remember. You had said that the past was better off far from you, but you were only fooling yourself. That previous relationship was still very present in your memories.

You were never a normal girl, you were a bit withdrawn. It's not that you hated people or anything like that, you just didn't fit in. The villagers never isolated you or considered you a freak, and maybe that was your downfall. After years of voluntary solitude, you met a girl, a girl you fell in love with almost instantly, Becca.

It was your first relationship, an explosion of new emotions that at first made you seem like the happiest girl in that sinister place. Time passed and everything seemed perfect. But you had read too many stories not to start seeing similarities with the behavior of that girl who claimed to love you.

Like in that children's story, Becca began to neglect her lamb costume, revealing the dark fur of a fierce and hungry wolf. At first, they were just absurd arguments, ones in which you always seemed to be at fault.

You remembered the sleepless nights, wondering if you had really done something wrong to disappoint the girl you loved, if you were guilty, if you hurt her without realizing it. Acknowledging a guilt that you didn't fully understand became a habit, it became an easy way to stop the wolf from roaring.

But time didn't improve the situation, quite the opposite. That submission increased to the point you no longer asked yourself what you had done to deserve a scolding, accepting the reality of her words, bowing your head and asking for forgiveness.

Being so young, your character was deformed, turning you into something like a slave to her thoughts, her desires, a rag doll to be ordered around and tortured whenever she wanted.

Your friends began to be a problem for Becca. She herself urged you to abandon those innocent walks with the village girls, to put aside the only people who had always understood you. Of course, this unhinged behavior didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend, since she was the one who tried to open your eyes.

It didn't matter that you began to believe she was right, since, because of Becca, you stopped hanging out with her. Controlling you was her greatest hobby, torturing you was her only way to spend the time.

Submissive and obedient, you pleased that disguised wolf as much as you could, although as the months went by, you stopped receiving anything in return.

The screams, the senseless threats became routine. Every time you weren't with Becca, she acted, she marked your skin with slaps and warnings, making you believe that you were to blame for the blows you received. Your vision of reality didn’t change, even though your life was hell.

One day, Becca left you, she abandoned you. You remember the screams, the cries, the pleas. At that moment you were unable to see the level of pathos you were in, begging your tormentor for a second chance.

The pain, the suffering of having lost her was too great, you spent weeks crying inconsolably. Your parents were busy weaving and making fabrics, and your personal problems were of no importance when it came to helping them. Becca was a lovely girl in their opinion.

She was always a wolf in sheep's clothing, capable of deceiving even the shepherds, even the people who were supposed to take care of you.

You were crying as you walked, as you breathed, you were almost unaware of where you were going. It was not an ordinary commission. Those fabrics weren’t for Luiza or the Lupu family, no…

The landscape was changing and deep down you felt that you should be afraid, but you weren’t. The pain and the tears were much stronger than the fear of your destination, the Beneviento House.

The rumors about the lady in black didn’t sound in your head, you could only hear Becca's screams and insults. So much so, that you arrived at the house at the waterfall without being aware of the danger you were in.

The sobs accompanied the first encounter you had with the veiled lady, and, somehow, they aroused her curiosity. Chance was never your best ally, but, it seems that at that moment, it decided to grant you a favor.

“Those beautiful eyes don’t have to cry…”

You remember that whisper, that hoarse voice speaking through the veil, that voice unknown to the village, those hands that wiped away your tears. You always knew what she was, that she was a dangerous woman, that she was sick, that she was dark and soulless. Well, at least that's what it seemed to you.

Donna Beneviento, fourth Lord, seemed to take pity on your soul, something no one did, something no one had bothered to relieve. Your body, torn apart by tireless crying, yielded to the offer of tea, of telling her the reason for your tears.

So you did, or at least, you made it clear to her that a breakup was the cause of your problems. She didn't seem to give any importance to that, but she did to something, which, according to the lady, was terribly unusual: you didn't tremble in her presence, you weren't afraid.

That involuntary behavior granted you a second chance, granted you the love of someone you shouldn't love, who was cold as ice and dangerously disturbed. It didn't take you long to realize you were wrong.

Donna was quiet, but kind, attentive. The Angie doll was funny and eloquent, thus forming the counterpart the Lord was missing. Love arose from the ashes of your soul, which revived like a phoenix, hoping the fire would burn your past as well.

She was… beautiful, simply beautiful. Her complexes about her appearance were stupidity to you. Her deformed face was beauty itself, and you let her know that.

Laughter, whispers, kisses, caresses… Thus began a very different relationship, one in which you felt good, too good. Sometimes, just sometimes, you didn't feel worthy of so much affection, you didn't feel you deserved Donna, to calm her desire to love someone as pathetic as you.

After a few wonderful months with the lady in black, you finally realized. The sheep costume Becca was wearing became invisible. All those mistakes you thought you had made became injustices, all the slaps you thought were fair became abuse, mistreatment.

You regretted having cried for Becca, but, luckily, you would never have to face her again. To think that, perhaps after that unfortunate encounter, Donna protected you, was much more than you thought you deserved, even if her way of protecting… was kind of abrupt or sinister.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked closing the door of the mansion and removing her veil, a gesture you adored.

You nodded uncertainly, letting the lady's intense gaze stare into your eyes and her hands cup your face. It wasn’t easy to deceive her, you should know that.

“Your words tell me one thing, but your gaze tells me another, tesoro,” she said, with a tender voice, while her caresses comforted your nerves. “Please, tell me what's wrong.”

“It's nothing, Donna,” you said, lowering your head, joining one of your hands with hers. “It's just that meeting h-her… made me nervous.”

“I see,” the lady whispered, bringing her lips closer to yours, kissing you slowly. “She hurt you bad, vero?”

“Yes… but, but I prefer to forget about it,” you said with a fake smile, in case the desire to get revenge came back to her mind.

“It seems that it's hard for you,” Donna commented, with a slightly colder look. “Do you have doubts?”

“No!” you squealed nervously, shaking your head and making exaggerated gestures with your hands. “No, Donna, don't say that. I love you, and only you. Sometimes the past just hurts, that's all.”

The lady stared at you for a moment, but sighed in relief, coming closer and stealing another soft kiss from you, giving you a tender smile.

“Well, now you're with me, I'll protect you from pain, amore mio,” she whispered lovingly, wiping away a tear that was starting to run down your cheek. “Come, I'm going to prepare something for you to relax.”

“Thank you, darling,” you said with a sincere smile, expressing the love, the gratitude you had for the lady in black, the extreme fidelity you would always have for her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Angie interrupted, separating you comically. “Less cuddles, that doesn't make anyone happy. (Y/N), silly, all you have to do to be happy is play with me.”

You both kissed again, looking at the doll so she would growl angrily. Afterwards, the lady in black came down to prepare one of her relaxing teas and you had no choice but to spend some fun time with the doll.

You were grateful for all her love, her understanding, her sweetness, but your demons kept whispering to you, telling you that it wasn't fair, that you didn't deserve that special treatment, that love, those kisses, those caresses...

Luckily you managed to forget about your problems. Donna was lovely, she would always do everything possible to remove the sorrows from your soul, but with Angie... with Angie forgetting was much easier, since diverting attention could bring unpleasant consequences, like a scream in your ear, or, in the worst case, a bite.

The rest of the day passed like any other: glances, smiles, kisses, moments of quiet reading on her lap… Did you really deserve all that? You didn't think it possible.

“What are you doing?” you asked affectionately, when Donna moved to her desk, studying some papers.

“Mm, I'm going over my research,” the lady commented, concentrating on those essays written in elegant handwriting, with words that, unfortunately, you didn't understand. “There are too many mountain plants.”

“Oh, plants, of course,” you said amused, leaning down to kiss her cheek and earning one of her irresistible shy laughs. “Is it Mother Miranda's thing?”

“No, I've always found the power I have over these kinds of plants interesting, I want to know everything,” she explained, making you shrug with an amused laugh. “Look at this, it seems like a good essay to me.”

“Okay…” you sighed, taking the paper and frowning amused. “Um, Donna, I'm sorry but… I don't understand,” you said scratching your neck.

“Oh, certo,” she said, shaking her head and gesturing for you to sit on her lap. “It's part of my research with the new variety that appeared at the gardener's house.”

“Wow, so you don't only make dolls…” you said, stealing a quick kiss from her.

“To be honest, I prefer dolls,” Donna commented, leaving the papers in order, sighing tiredly. “Although I haven't worked on them lately,” she said in a different tone, frowning.

“I-I think that's my fault,” you said with a weak voice, knowing that you were the biggest distraction.

You couldn't be a nuisance or disappoint her in any way. Any mistake on your part was a cause for absolute sadness.

“Mm?” she murmured distractedly, not paying much attention to your self-accusations. “Perché?”

“Well... I'm always distracting you,” you said in a serious tone, with sincere apology. “You should pay less attention to me and more to your dolls.”

Donna turned her head with a confused look, but smiled, kissing you in a slightly wilder, deeper way, making you almost lose your balance.

“I like dolls more than plants,” she whispered in your ear, in a terribly sensual way. “But I like you more than dolls.”

You blushed, shaking your head as you comically ran away from her excessive affection, one that, you thought you didn’t deserve.

“You always say those things,” you murmured with a purr, playing with your finger on her chest, controlling your breathing. “You make me blush.”

“If I didn't, I would be doing something wrong,” she commented amused, brushing your hair away from your face, enjoying the touch of your skin.

“Oh, so I... am I doing something wrong?” you asked worried, making her move confused. “I-I can change, really.”

“What are you talking about, tesoro?” the lady questioned, studying your nervous gestures. “Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I...” you whispered embarrassed, looking away.

No matter how much time passed, your fears were still very present in your mind.

“Hey, (Y/N), you're shaking,” Donna whispered, taking your cold and shaking hands, looking at you scared. “Tesoro…”

“It's okay, Donna,” you said with a fake smile, removing your hands and looking for something to divert the lady's rational curiosity with. “What’s this?” you asked, reaching out to grab what looked like an old fashion magazine.

“Um, I think a catalog,” Donna said, being distracted by your clumsy actions and taking a look with you. “It's amazing, (Y/N), sometimes I don't even know what's in this house…” she sighed amused.

“They look like dresses,” you said, commenting on the images you both saw. “I didn't know you liked fashion.”

“N-No,” Donna said, gently shaking her head. “Not much…” she whispered, turning the catalogue over. “My mother used to enjoy sewing patterns. I suspect this magazine was hers.”

“Did your mother know how to sew?” you asked curiously, finally diverting your shaking hands from her head. “I guess like mother, like daughter, huh?”

“Mm, yes, you might be right,” the brunette said, glancing at you briefly as she turned the pages. “She was very good at making dresses, a-although she didn’t h-have much time to do so.”

“Look at this one,” you said quickly, masterfully keeping poor Donna from losing her mind, like every time she mentioned her past. Seeing her out of it was something you couldn’t stand, and you couldn’t control either. “It’s beautiful.”

“This one?” she said, distracted again, settling you on her lap. “Do you like this dress?”

“Yes, it’s simple, but elegant, I’d like to have one to wear it for you. Would you like that?”

 Donna smiled with a shy blush on her skin, looking away as she nodded.

“I would like you to do it... to make yourself pretty for me...”

Luckily, there were no problems that day, or that night. Everything had gone well and, as always when you went to sleep, you reviewed all your dialogues and actions with the lady in black, looking for some mistake, something that could make her angry. As for a long time, as always since you were with her, you found none.

Getting used to that kind, loving and selfless treatment was something that would take a lot of time, and effort, to accept. Becca's influence was still too great in your mind and the only thing you wanted, the only thing you would do anyway, was to forget about it.

The next day, everything seemed normal, although somehow, you noticed a certain nervousness in the lady in black, as well as an unusual urgency to return to the village to pay a visit to the Duke.

You knew she was up to something, and even though Donna was reluctant to let you accompany her, it was difficult for her to refuse your request.

Your demons were right, you didn't deserve her.

"I love walking with you," you whispered as you hung on her arm, walking slowly towards the village, feeling the warmth of her body, her protective presence next to you.

She laughed affectionately, kissing you through the black fabric. Of course you preferred her bare lips, but those discreet kisses outside the mansion, even in front of curious villagers, climbed the ranks.

“Wait for me here, tesoro,” she said when you reached the carriage while you politely greeted the merchant, who did the same with a greedy smile.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to think about whether to accept her order or not, but finally nodding, walking away from her, holding her hand until she let it go by inertia. It was becoming more and more evident that the lady had something up her sleeve, and you dedicated that moment of solitude to imagine what it was.

“(Y/N)?” a girl who passed in front of you, and whom you recognized instantly, stopped, looking at you with a smile.

“Ivana,” you said blinking several times, seeing, for a long time, your best friend in front of you. “Is that you?”

“It seems so, I could ask you the same thing,” the amused girl said, coming closer to melt into a loving hug with you. “(Y/N), I'm so glad to see you, it's been a while since... well, I haven't seen you around here.”

“I was at mass just yesterday,” you said, feeling comfort in the arms of your old friend, but separating shortly after. “Didn't you see me?”

“Um, no,” she said, frowning. “I guess we can't see much from our secluded spot,” she explained, something that made you nod.

“It's true, I was in the front row,” you said, scratching the back of your neck.

“How brave,” she joked, giving you a nudge. “Although, judging by what I've heard, I'm not surprised.”

“What are you talking about?” you said curiously, to which the girl turned her gaze to the Duke and the lady.

“I don't know what to say, (Y/N), there are rumors. They say you have something with Donna Beneviento,” she whispered in a low voice, pushing your back to get you a little away from them.

“The rumors aren't wrong,” you said blushing, glancing sideways at the lady, who seemed to be studying some fabrics. “I've been living with her for almost a year.”

“And you're alive? I mean, I don't think that...” your friend whispered, with a cautious tone.

“Of course I'm alive. Listen, Ivana, Donna isn't like people think,” you said, clearing the black shadows that surrounded the lady.

“(Y/N), they say she's a dangerous crazy woman,” she murmured, looking away from you.

“Donna's not crazy, she's sick,” you said annoyed, frowning. “B-Besides, that doesn't matter because she really loves me, she treats me well and she's not comparable to... you know...”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” Ivana said, with a distrustful tone. “Hey, I'm really glad you ended things with Becca, really, but I don’t know if you've chosen the right replacement.”

“She's the right one,” you hissed, clenching your fists, nervous about her lack of trust in the love of your life. “Donna is good, loving, kind and treats me well. Everyone says she's a monster, but they're wrong. Becca was a monster.”

“Oh, well... you're right about that, I mean, at least I know what Becca was like and her... well, I don't know her,” your friend said, without taking her eyes off the lady. “I-If you think you're okay with Lady Beneviento, I guess I have to support you.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, grabbing your friend's hands caressing them in a friendly way, with a warm smile. “Your support is very important to me. Maybe we should meet someday, and we can talk about it better.”

“I wanted to hear that for over two years,” Ivana said, changing her gaze to an amused one. “Maybe you're right, there's only one way to know... you, me, beer, Luiza's house…”

“Sounds nostalgically fantastic,” you joked, making both of you laugh in amusement, without letting your hands go.

Ivana's laughter faded in an instant, looking at something behind you, over your shoulder.

You shouldn't be surprised, since, behind you, was the lady in black, with the same calm, but threatening posture.

“Donna,” you said, approaching the lady and grabbing her arm, forcing her to take a couple of steps forward. “Look, this is Ivana, she's my best friend.”

“Hi, Ivana!” Angie squealed, waving effusively and getting out of her owner's arms. “What's up?”

“He-Hello,” the young woman stammered, greeting the doll back cautiously.

“It's been a long time since we last saw each other and…” you commented, but after doing so, the lady pulled away from your grip in an unpleasant way, indicating to the doll to get back up.

“Hey, silly Donna, I was chatting!” Angie protested, rudely silenced by the lady.

“Um… I'm sorry, Ivana, she doesn't talk,” you said embarrassed, moving towards the lady, who walked away without waiting for you. “We’re in touch, okay?”

Your friend nodded as you ran to the lady's side, with a cheerful smile, happy to have met Ivana.

“Hey, Donna, honey, wait,” you said running after her with an exaggerated gasp.

The lady turned to look at you, but it was for a very brief moment, as she continued walking, completely silent.

“W-Well… and… how was it with the Duke? Did you get what you wanted?” you asked as the tension began to fall on your shoulders slowly.

There was no answer, something that made you nervous. You were already in her territory, normally Donna would have said something, anything, but not that day.

“Donna, is something wrong?” you asked worried, taking her hand, catching her off guard.

The lady in black growled unpleasantly, breaking away from your grip again, walking faster.

“Donna, honey, what's wrong?” you asked nervous, more and more nervous.

She walked quickly, with Angie tugging at her dress, trying to get her attention for something. Donna didn't pay attention to her, and neither to your calls.

“Donna, wait,” you said agitated by the fast pace, with your heart beating so hard in your chest, that at any moment it would burst out of it.

Anxiety had already formed in your body when you entered the mansion. You knew something was wrong, you were sure, but you didn't know how to face it.

“Donna…” you whispered, moving closer to her as she removed her veil.

Her gaze was colder than an iceberg, and she looked away too quickly for you to interpret it.

“Donna, darling,” you said hastily, grabbing her by the shoulder before she walked away again. “W-Wait…”

“Lasciami,” she hissed in a dangerous whisper, moving abruptly so your hand would leave her body. “Non toccarmi.”

“What? Donna, please, what…”

Before you could finish your question, the lady growled again, quickly walking away towards the elevator hallway, descending to the basement without another word.

Confused, nervous, with your whole body shaking due to bad memories, from what that behavior evoked in your mind, you looked everywhere, searching for an answer.

“Uh-Oh…” Angie murmured, returning from the hallway.

The situation was strange; Donna had left her doll upstairs.

“A-Angie, what's wrong? What's wrong with her?” you asked, nervously playing with your hands. “Why is she acting like that?”

“I don't know,” the doll said, scratching her head comically. “She seems angry.”

“Angry?” you asked, approaching the puppet, who nodded slightly. “Is it that…? Did something happen with the Duke?”

“No,” Angie said, thoughtfully. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“T-Then…” you murmured, controlling your tremors, coming to a terrible conclusion. “It's because of something I've done… right?”

“What? You? What did you do?” the doll asked, dropping onto a couch.

You followed her, thinking that at any moment you were going to explode with anxiety.

“A-Angie… Was it my fault? I just… Oh, Gods, isn't it because I…? Did she get upset about Ivana?” you asked out loud, not finding any other reason that could explain her attitude.

The doll shrugged, making the tension almost unbearable.

“You and Donna don't share a mind?” you asked curiously, glancing at the elevator hallway.

“We do,” the doll said, in a passive tone. “But before you ask, no, I can't know what she's thinking. She learned a long time ago… how to put it, not to let me get involved in her business.”

“W-well, then I guess I have to talk to her. If I've done something wrong…” you said, getting up from the couch with a nervous gasp.

“No!” the doll screamed, standing in front of you with her arms outstretched. “No, silly!”

“Why not? I have to know what I did wrong,” you said, dodging the doll and walking back to the elevator.

“No, silly, don't go now!” Angie shrieked again, running to your side with her hands on your legs. “Wait a bit and she'll just get over it…”

“I…” you said confused. “Fine,” you whispered, glancing at the hallway and walking away, to which Angie sighed in relief.

Listening to Donna's inseparable companion was always the best option, but that time, that damn time, minutes passed and nothing changed. The brunette showed no signs of life, she was downstairs.

“I'm going down,” you said, throwing away the cards you were playing with Angie and getting up from the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey, am I talking to the walls? Leave Donna alone, you idiot,” Angie said, following you again.

“It's been more than an hour, no... I can't just leave it be,” you said, shaking your head and opening the elevator gate.

“Wait for me!” the doll shrieked, sneaking past you as you pressed the button. “Silly, it's not a good idea... come up, please.”

“No, Angie, if she's in trouble, I have to do something,” you insisted already in the basement, walking quickly to the workshop.

“You'll be in trouble if you disturb Donna now, stupid, listen to Angie, Angie wants to help you,” the doll said, pulling your dress.

You ignored her, opening the doors of the workshop.

The lady in black was sitting at her work table, staring into space, not moving. She didn't even turn her head when she heard you enter.

“Donna, Donna,” Angie said, pulling at her clothes. “Hey, Donna, don’t...”

“Taci,” the lady hissed in a hoarse, dangerous tone, making the puppet run back to your side.

“(Y/N), go away...” the puppet whispered, pushing you towards the exit.

Once again you ignored her advice, approaching the woman in black with a slow step, almost clumsy because of your nerves.

“D-Donna, my love…” you whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she pulled away with a sharp movement. “Honey, please…”

The lady didn't even look at you. She kept her eyes fixed on a seemingly unimportant place in front of her.

“Listen to me, I… I don't know what I could have done to offend you, but I beg you to forgive me, or at least tell me what…” you murmured with your voice broken by her indifference.

A loud bang made you step back, frightened. The lady in black hit the table with excessive force, causing several objects to fall to the floor.

“You want me to tell you what you've done…” Donna hissed, slowly getting up, her knuckles white from the strength with which she clenched her fists. “What have you done!? You dare ask me what you've done!?” she shrieked, making you retreat even further, being chased by her.

“Donna…” You sighed somewhat scared, burned by the fire that emanated from her furious, unhinged gaze. “I don't know what you're talking about, I…”

“You don't know anything, do you? You never know anything,” she growled, with a nervous tic that revealed her crisis. “You're always the submissive and poor (Y/N). How good and quiet you are, tesoro… Is that how you do things? Do you deceive people with that pathetic attitude and then stab them in the back?”

“Please, no…” you murmured in a weak voice, crashing into a wall, cornered in front of Donna, who kept stabbing you with her gaze.

The memories, your demons, your feelings… Everything dangerously resembled moments from your past, terrible moments.

“Please, no,” the brunette mocked, tilting her head with an unpleasant grimace. “Porca puttana!” she shrieked, hitting the wall with her fist, right next to your head.

You closed your eyes, breathing heavily and shaking your head. Tears traveled freely down your cheeks.

“Do you think you can do this to me, (Y/N)?” she hissed, not noticing your fear, your crying or your nervousness, with a threatening, delirious voice. “I turn around for a second, (Y/N), one fucking second! And what do I find? My girl flirting with a whore…” she said almost in your ear, with a look of hate that pierced your chest.

“No, it's not what you think,” you said with your voice distorted by tears, closing your eyes to receive her punishment, the punishment you always deserved. “She's…”

“You bitch!” Donna shrieked, hurting your heart and ears. “You're mine! Do you hear me? Mia!” she shouted closer and closer, with furious breathing. “Who do you think you are to cheat on me?”

“I haven't cheated on you,” you sobbed, covering your face instinctively.

“Liar! Bitch!” the lady shouted again, grabbing you tightly by the collar of your dress, shaking you roughly. “You're a slut! You don't even deserve me to fuck you out of spite!”

“Shit, shit,” Angie muttered, walking nervously through the workshop. “Donna, stop!”

“I should have listened to them, (Y/N). They were telling me the truth,” Donna said with a nervous laugh, loosening her grip. “They knew what you were, that you would cheat on me! I was fool enough to want to surprise you and make you a fucking dress… Vaffanculo!”

“No, no!” you screamed desperately, with your legs shaking, threatening to fail. “No, Donna, I love you!”

“You don't love me!” the lady shrieked, shaking her head, trembling too, completely out of her mind. “They know it, they tell me so...” she murmured confusedly, blinking erratically, alternating angry growls with delirious laughter. “Yes, they are right...”

“I'm sorry!” you screamed, letting your legs give out, falling hopelessly to your knees at her mercy, bowing your head. “Donna, forgive me! I have failed you, forgive me!”

“Oh, you admit it, how bold,” she growled, looking at you with contempt.

“I haven’t done anything! But, but if I have, I apologize... Donna, forgive me, please, I will do anything for you to forgive me!” you sobbed in desperation, clinging to her legs, dragging yourself pathetically, as you used to do with Becca.

“Ugh, lasciami, troia,” she hissed, pushing you to the floor, looking at you with a disgust that could make you faint. “Don't touch me, do you hear me?”

“Please, Donna! Forgive me! I beg you!” you shrieked, crawling to grab her ankle, something she prevented with a soft movement. “I'm sorry! I'll do anything to remedy my mistake! Anything!”

Donna shook her head, trembling, putting a hand on her forehead, as if her head hurt.

“Ok, that's enough, silly Donna,” Angie said, standing in front of you, as if she wanted to protect you. “Calm down, Donna, come on…”

“N-No… they… they talk to me, they whisper to me…” she said nervously, covering her ears while she moved nervously, as if she didn't want to hear invisible voices. “They…”

“They aren’t here, Donna, I’m here, look at me, look at me, come on, it’s Angie, your Angie…” the doll said, trying to calm her demons.

“Angie… tell them to shut up… make them stop!” the lady screamed, twisting on herself while you cried against the wall, with your knees on your chest.

“We’ll do it together, come on,” the doll said, moving her arms to distract the lady. “Recite, recite, Donna; it’s your favorite… Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle… Come on, come on, you know it!”

“E q-questa s-siepe, che da tanta parte…” Donna muttered, pronouncing with difficulty.

“That’s it! Go on, go on, they’ll shut up,” Angie encouraged, glancing at your pathetic figure. “Dell…”

“Dell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude,” she whispered, breathing, miraculously, calmer. “T-They've stopped…”

“Of course, good job, Donna,” Angie said excitedly, jumping up and down on the floor.

The lady made a gesture of pain, panting nervously and blinking, as if she didn't even know where she was.

“What…?” she asked disoriented, looking at you and frowning. “(Y/N)?”

“Look what you've done, Donna, you fool!” Angie shouted, running to your side. “Hey, hey, it's all over now, (Y/N)”

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” you repeated over and over again, unable to look the lady in the face, covering yours with your hands as your tears soaked your clothes. “Forgive me, Donna…”

“(Y/N), I…” she murmured, bending down, still breathing heavily. “Amore mio…”

“Don't, please!” you squealed nervously, backing away when Donna reached out a hand towards you, twisting you around to defend yourself from a possible punishment. “Don't hit me anymore…”

“Don't hit you?” Donna asked, shaking her head and struggling with your hands. “(Y/N), please…”

“You're stupid, Donna! You've lost your mind again!” Angie snapped, pointing at her in an unpleasant way. “You scared her!”

“I don't… Gods… no…” the doll maker stammered unable to calm you down. “(Y/N), no… I don't…”

“I promise I won't see her again, I promise,” you sobbed, letting her take your hands away from your face. “I know… you don't have to punish me, I'll do it myself…” you said nervously, looking for a solution to the problem, one you always had with Becca.

Nervous, ignoring the lady's grip, you got up, looking for something in the workshop, something that would make you pay the penance for having made her angry.

“What are you doing? Hey, no, don't do...” she said, approaching nervously when she saw you with scissors in your hand.

“I'll cut my hair, okay? I won't be pretty for anyone this way,” you said with a pleading laugh, grabbing a lock of hair, ready to pay for your mistakes.

“What?! Have you gone crazy?” Donna asked, running to snatch the scissors from you. “(Y/N), please stop... doing that...”

“It's the least I can do to make it up to you...” you sobbed, struggling with her, without success, she was always stronger than you. “It's what she would want...”

“She? What...? Gods, (Y/N)...” the lady sighed, leaving the scissors and grabbing you by the shoulders. “You're talking about your ex, right? Did she do this to you?”

“I deserved it,” you said with a broken voice, with a sore throat. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

“Basta, basta, per favore…” Donna pleaded, breathing nervously again. “I didn't want you to… Gods, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… I've lost my mind and I don't… cazzo… what have I done?” she lamented, putting her hands on her head.

“Screw things up as always, although I must admit that it is her fault for insisting,” Angie said, looking at her hands.

“Oh, cazzo…” Donna hissed, struggling with you to be able to hug you. “Amore mio, please, forgive me, I beg you… it wasn't me… I just… Gods… I'm not okay and… Oh, tesoro, please, I beg you… look at me…”

You obeyed, looking into her eye, at the extinguished, disappeared sparkle of rage.

“I just got jealous and… I lost control…” the lady explained, wiping away your tears while you were unable to utter a single word. “I never wanted to hurt you. I would never hurt you… I'm not like… her…”

“What a way to show it,” Angie said ironically, making you wake up from that nightmare.

“Aren't you going to hit me?” you asked, calming your crying, your fear.

“I would never do such a thing… you have to believe me,” Donna whispered, dragging your body towards hers, falling to the floor, cradling you, feeling her tears on your skin as well. “I'm so sorry, (Y/N), you should never have seen me like this… I'm sorry…”

“Donna…” you sobbed, letting her arms hug you, arms that you no longer feared, but that scared you, too much. “Donna…”

“Listen to me, I didn't mean to tell you those things… it wasn't me… if anyone deserves a slap, it's me,” she whispered as she cradled you, repentant, terribly hurt by her madness. “Come on, hit me.”

“What?” you said, looking up and shaking your head.  “No…”

“Do it, I deserve it,” Donna insisted.

Before you could refuse for the second time, a dull noise echoed in the workshop. Angie had taken that request as her own and had crossed the brunette's face, leaving her speechless.

“Ouch! Angie!” the lady shrieked, with a hand on her wounded cheek.

“She would never do it,” the doll said, amused, managing, after a while of suffering, to get a smile out of you. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you murmured, letting her affection pass through your skin, her apologies being heard by your ears. Becca never apologized.

“I told you that you shouldn't come down,” Angie said, while the lady lamented with her forehead next to yours. “Donna is sick and sometimes she hears voices that tell her horrible things. She is a jealous fool, but I swear to you by Giovanni Beneviento, my creator, that she loves you, and that she would never hurt you. I give you my word.”

“I…” you whispered, also calming the lady's crying. “You weren't upset about my friend?”

“Yes, but... I'm a stupid jealous thing... you have to forgive me... you have to...”

You cut her off with a kiss.

Maybe together, you could put an end to your demons.

[itsagoodluckkiss]

I Know The End

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x f!reader, platonic strawhats x f!reader

Summary: This is based on one of my favorite songs, I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers, and I take the meaning of this song as a "when you're at the bottom, the only way is up" kind of song. Reader is a friend of Nami, she has air powers and joins the Strawhats after they help her save her town.

Warnings: Mild East Blue spoilers, kinda OC Zoro, typical OP violence, otherwise pure fluff, no use of Y/N

WC: 3.7κ

A/N: Oi, hello there! This is my first One Piece fanfic, took me a bit more than I expected but I did it! I have another one for my first request on the way, but since this is my first, I had to post one about my fave! Also, I'm sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and if you do, pretty please leave a comment! Requests are open! ❤️

“I’m not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado, I’m gonna chase it. I gotta go now, I know. Driving out into the sun, let the ultraviolet cover me up. Went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips… A slaughterhouse, an outlet mall, slot machines, fear of God… Big bolt of lightning hanging low. Over the coast everyone’s convinced it’s a government drone or an alien spaceship.”

Feeling out of place is something you get used to when living in this part of the East Blue and seek adventure; it is called the weakest sea for some reason after all. Even if she loved her living place, she disliked the fact that people mostly minded their own business without blinking an eye to the suffering and corruption around them. She couldn’t entirely blame them; it wasn’t an easy thing caring about neighboring regions when your own was constantly hit by natural disasters, causing deaths and lifetime labors destroyed.

She had just learned that the Conomi Islands had been freed by Arlong’s cruel rule after eight whole years. She wondered how Nami was. They had met a couple of years ago when she caught her rummaging her family’s vault and helped her through it without getting her caught. She hid her in her room while the Navy was looking for the thief. She didn’t need the money and it was obvious to her that Nami did. Nami was her first real friend. The week they spent together, drinking and getting to know each other, talking about their backstories, their wants and plans for the future was the best in her life. She had promised that after she’d buy her village back and free it, she’d come to see her again. She hadn’t heard from Nami since.

They said it was because of the Marines the islands were liberated. She could never believe that for one second. Her curious personality always managed to get her into the Navy’s business, making her family’s influence and prestige on the island take a hit every time she got into trouble with them. She couldn’t help that all this talk from the Marines about justice and keeping the peace made her want to throw up on their shiny uniforms. She knew it was all an act for them and their allies to maintain power. How could Marines talk about values when regions and people were enslaved and the Navy turned a blind eye instead of helping, just for power and some berries?

Her dream was to end all that fake order and bring actual freedom to those in need; to become a freedom fighter and help people. She needed the right opportunity but also, she had to take advantage of every situation if she wanted to get away from that place someday and seek what she so wholeheartedly craved. So she learned her family’s secrets and strengths. It’s not every day you see generations of people knowing how to yield the air around them, giving them a bunch of abilities like flying or sucking the air out of their enemies’ lungs or causing hurricanes of every size. She knew when to play nice and be obedient so that her parents would teach her their ways, thinking that she would grow out of her rebellious phase, would learn about and protect her family’s rule. It’s not an easy task for them to cover up the Navy’s dirt on the island after all.  

The more she mastered her power, the more she could see that something was wrong with her family. She had started to notice the patterns. Every time the island was hit by a storm or a natural disaster, they were never home. At first, it would make sense that they’d go and help their people. Then, after the storms, her island’s Navy unit and its captain started collecting “taxes” for rebuilding the infrastructures. Thing was, the taxes would constantly go up, bringing inhabitants to their knees. Meanwhile, her family didn’t seem affected at all. They would just roam the island, giving advices and pacifying the angry voices that protested the Navy. So, she decided, in the next hurricane, she would learn her parents and older siblings’ sketchy business. She had to know what was the cause of all this and what she could do to change it.

~

Meeting new people travelling between islands and seas was a fascinating thing. She loved hearing stories about their adventures, about different places and bigger dangers, fights between pirates and marines or about the golden age of piracy. About the Grand Line, the different weather conditions in each island, the devil fruits and the abilities they gave their users. She would always wander through the port, looking for more myths coming to life by the sailors that docked their ships on her island for supplies.

When she spotted a beautiful pirate caravel, with a sheep figurehead in its bow and its Jolly Roger with a straw hat, docked in their port, she felt a strange wave of excitement and peace. She couldn’t explain it but that beautiful ship radiated so much love and care, like it had a soul of its own and a smile that made everyone feel like home if they stepped into it. She stood there, admiring it from afar, when she felt someone standing next to her.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Her name is Merry! She’s my ship.”

She turned to look at the stranger. A boy around the same age as hers, with a small scar under his right eye and a straw hat on his head, and that made her assume this was the captain. He had a smile so vibrant, it reminded her of the sun. His energy was so welcoming, she felt like she could be friends with him on a whim.

“Hello. She is indeed a sight to behold.”

She gave him a warm smile back, raising her hand to introduce herself.

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Luffy, and I’m gonna be King Of The Pirates!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, but it had no malice. She loved dreamers, being one herself, and even if she met that boy only a couple of minutes ago, she could see he would give everyone in the world a run for their money. A gust of wind blew, taking his hat away, and before he could react, she brought it back to him through the air around her. She placed it on his head and gave him a toothy grin.

“There! You can’t be King Of The Pirates without your trademark, right?”

“THANK YOU! YOU’VE GOT AIR POWERS? THAT’S SO COOL! YOU SHOULD JOIN OUR CREW!”

She was dumbfounded by his enthusiasm and his abrupt proposal. Never had she met anyone like him, so thrilled by her presence and her little air tricks. Before she could reply, she heard footsteps and another male voice behind her.

“Oi Luffy, stop scaring people by asking them to join us like that, will you?”

She turned to look at the deeper voice, and for a moment it felt like lighting coursing through her veins. Taller and more muscular than the boy next to her, he looked a bit older than them both, with short green hair and eyes gray as steel, three golden earrings that gleamed in the sunlight graced his left ear. He had a sharp gaze that radiated a strong and confident energy, one that lacked fear or hesitation. She never believed in love at first sight, but this felt as close as she could imagine it would feel. The man approached them and introduced himself to her.

“Roronoa Zoro? As in ‘Pirate Hunter’ Zoro? In a pirate crew?”

Of course she had heard of his reputation. Who didn’t know the infamous bounty hunter swordsman in the East Blue? He chuckled at her surprise.

“Yeah, well, long story short, this guy here has an effect of convincing people easily.”

“There you are, you idiots! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! We’re not here for me to babysit you not getting lost, we’re here to find my-”

She heard a familiar female shriek before she felt soft arms around her, squeezing her tight, and she immediately knew who it was. She could never forget her best friend’s hugs. She returned the hug as she screamed Nami’s name, before they both started to cry tears of joy. Her hand grabbed her upper arm, and she felt deep scars where her Arlong tattoo should be but was replaced by another, prettier one.

“I was so worried about you! I learned what happened to your village and I didn’t know what to think!”

“You should have known I’d be okay, you know I always pull through. Although, these guys were the greatest help I could get. They are the reason I’m freed and I wanted to keep my promise to you.”

She looked at the boys around them with gratitude, two more joining them, a blond boy wearing a suit, who looked like he would burst into flames from the heart eyes on his face and another one with wavy hair, a long nose and mischief in his eyes.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping my friend. She means the world to me!”

“Whoa, Nami’s your friend? Now you should definitely join our crew! We’ve heard so much about you, the only reason we stopped here before Loguetown was to find you!” Luffy said with enthusiasm.

“Yes, it’s not every day you hear someone born into money giving them away without question, hiding the thief in addition and fighting their way to get them out safely. You must be quite the character.” Zoro smirked at her.

“And to add to that, you’re also a sight to behold, my lady!” the blond boy said as he kissed her hand and introduced himself as Sanji, making her laugh at his advances.

“We’ve heard you have a great mind for plans too. Could use a strategist in this group of idiots that run into danger head on. I always device a plan to beat my enemies. I’m Usopp by the way.”

She was dumbfounded to say the least, taking them all and their kind words in. She met these guys a few moments ago, yet never had she felt such a feeling of being so welcomed by the people around her, she was so used to being ignored that this interaction almost made her sob. She kissed Nami’s cheek before letting her go.

“I… thank you guys… you’re all so sweet… but I don’t think I’m that good-”

“Bullshit, you’ll be the smartest person besides me in this crew. Come on now, I know how much you long to get the hell out of this place, they’ve never appreciated you anyways, and I don’t think anything changed since we met.” Nami proclaimed, smiling at her.

“No… not much anyway. I just learned how to use my powers now… Look, I don’t know what to think of this, I have-”

A loud rumble shook the earth below them. She felt the temperature drop rapidly and she knew what was coming. Now was her chance to find out the truth she looked for, the one that could possibly make her decide to cut ties with her family if her speculations were true. She turned to the Strawhats, as they called themselves, and smiled brightly.

“Thank you guys. But I have to run now. There are rooms for rent down this road, run and cover yourselves and don’t come out before the storm passes. Maybe I’ll see you around after that.”

As they started to protest, she flew off to the source of the hurricane she could see coming from afar.

And sure enough, the feeling of throwing up from disgust and despair overwhelmed her when she arrived at the source. She saw her family controlling the hurricanes and lightings that hit her island, and the Navy captain, who she knew was a devil fruit user, was shaking the ground, causing the earthquake, while his Unit watched from the sidewalks. Bodies were scattered around damaged buildings, scenery of pure horror. Before she could react to stop this, she felt boulders hitting her, splitting her lips and bruising her body, blood running down her jaw as she fell down.

~

Logically, everything fell into place. Emotionally, nothing made sense. She couldn’t comprehend how she could have been raised by such cruel people. Her eyes welled up with tears, but not from the pain she felt on her body, but from the sight in front of her, as her parents approached her, proclaiming she was not mature enough to understand their family’s best interest and how she has always been such a disappointment, never listening, never following orders, an annoying, meddling child.

“Do whatever you want; we can’t do anything about her anymore.” Her parents proclaimed to the navy captain as he too approached.

“You’ve always been a pain in the ass and I can finally get rid of you.” The captain proclaimed as he unsheathed his sword.

She closed her eyes but she never felt the blade on her skin. The captain’s scream echoed as his arm got cut off from the shoulder, his sword hitting the ground.

“Swords are not toys, captain. You don’t get to play with them.”

Her head spin to the male voice behind her and her eyes widen as she saw the five pirates ready to fight. Zoro was the closest to her, having drawn one of his swords that was now covered in blood, leaving a clean cut on the marine’s shoulder. Usopp was standing a few feet behind, a slingshot in his hand as he shoot at the navy soldiers, the collision ended in blasts and the soldiers started to run away. Nami was holding a strange, long, steel pole that seemed by its use to control the weather around them with air bubbles.

“You’re not hurting a lady on my watch.” Sanji proclaimed before his leg collided with the bleeding captain’s face, kicking him to the ground.

“He was already done, curlybrows.”

“Shut your mouth, marimo!”

They were bickering as if they all were not in a life or death situation. The most shocking thing was Luffy, who was stretching his body as he was wielding what seemed to be the bark of a tree around, taking soldiers and her family with it.

“Nami said you had problems with your family. You seemed worried. So we followed you.” He said with a toothy grin.

Zoro grabbed her hand and raised her from the ground.

“You know how to fight I assume?”

“Yes I do.”

“Well then, let’s give them hell, pretty girl.”

~

Either way, we’re not alone. I’ll find a new place to be from. A haunted house with a picket fence, to float around and ghost my friends. I’m not afraid to disappear. The billboard said "The End Is Near". I turned around, there was nothing there. Yeah, I guess the end is here.”

And sure enough, she couldn’t believe the six of them managed to stop the destruction while fighting the whole navy unit and her family combined, who were now running away from the angry crowd that had assembled when the hurricanes stopped and saw the whole thing happening.

“You guys… I can’t thank you enough-”

“Pffff, that was nothing, it was funny being blown away, felt like flying hehe.” Luffy laughed as he grabbed her in a hug. “You’re Nami’s friend, so you are our friend too!”

She had started crying by now as she hugged Luffy back, the feelings she felt in that moment couldn’t be described.

“I think… I think I’ll join you guys!”

~

A week had passed since her family fled off the island that was now filled with marines who listed the damages and arrested their own dirty kind. They had made a futile attempt to take the strawhats in, and before they would even start a fight, the people of the island wreaked havoc, not even letting them close to their saviors. She took the crew in the house that was now hers.

She helped Nami move all the gold from the house onto their ship. She gave Usopp advices for his trinkets and how they would fly through the air easier. She cooked with Sanji and then would catalog the storages that would be taken with them to their journey, with Luffy receiving several kicks from the cook because he tried to eat everything. She had never had so much fun in her life as she had with them. Her favorite moments came at night, usually spent drinking with Zoro. They had talked about their childhoods, he had told her about his family how died when he was a toddler, his promise to his childhood friend who died way before her time, how he acquired that big scar across his chest. The more she got to know him, the more connected she felt to him, like a final puzzle piece falling right in to place.

On their last night, everyone was fast asleep, getting the rest they’d need since they would cross the entrance to the Grand Line the next day. But her anticipation wouldn’t let her sleep. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she got off her bed and walked around the house, taking it in one last time. She had decided to gift it to a large family whose home got destroyed. It was a fact that she didn’t want anything to do with that place anymore. Tomorrow morning her life would change forever. Her mind leading her nowhere in particular, she walked to her terrace. The wind, soft and gentle, rustled through the leaves of the trees, creating a soothing melody, and she could see the sea ahead, illuminated by the moon, which casted a silvery glow on the water. It was a peaceful scene, yet she could feel her heart racing when she saw Zoro sitting on the bench of her terrace, polishing his swords. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked as he glanced at her.

“I… I guess I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

“It must be a little overwhelming, I guess. Don’t worry though, we’re a good crew, we’ll take care of you.”

A small smile played on his lips. His words were reassuring, but there was something else in his tone, something that made her heart skip a beat. She bit her lip, walking to the edge of the terrace, her hands holding on to the railing as she tried to find the right words to say.

“I know I’ll be safe with you, guys. It’s just… it feels like the end is near for me in this place… and being in a pirate crew is going to be something so new and big… and I don’t feel like I bring a lot on the table…”

He chuckled softly as he placed his swords down, walking towards to stand next to her, taking her hand in his to give a firm squeeze.

“The end is near for this part of your life, indeed. But you’re strong, you’re brave, and you’re a great fighter. You’ve been through a lot and yet you’re one of the kindest people I’ve met, still standing here, ready to face whatever comes next. That takes a lot of courage, and it takes character. I think you bring a lot, and you’re going to fit right in with us. You’re not alone.”

She smiled shyly, feeling warmth spread through her chest, her eyes almost welling up. He smiled back, his expression genuine.

“Thank you, Zoro. You really have no idea how much that means.”

“I think I do. I know what it’s like to be uncertain about the future, to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. But you belong with us now. You’re going to make a great crewmate. It’s good to have you on board. I have a feeling you’re going to surprise all of us with what you can do.” He paused, his expression a bit more serious. “And… if you need to talk… or vent or… anything… I’m here.”

A deep blush crept up across her cheeks. “I… thank you… for everything. Same goes for me.”

She felt her heart flutter as he continued to hold her hand, her stare moving to meet his gaze. She couldn’t help but feel more at ease with him and he couldn’t deny the way he felt either.

“For now, I think we should just enjoy being together and explore this new thing we’ll find ourselves in. Who knows what kind of trouble we’ll stumble upon?”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what awaits us.” She leaned a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I’m looking forward to get to know you better too.”

It was time for his heart to skip a beat at her words. Her eyes widened but before she could shy away, he leaned in closer, and their lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss, a slow, gentle brushing of lips. The sounds of the forest faded away, leaving only the beating of their hearts and the rush of blood in their ears.

~

“Take care!”

“Come back soon!”

“Sorry I was mean to you, can’t wait to see you again!”

“Be safe and make us proud!”

“Don’t disappear!”

Most of the town’s people were at the port to give their regards to the strawhats and her. The others were already abroad, her being the last to climb the rope ladder on to her new home. She turned around before hoping on to the deck, and took in how weird and eerie her town looked now, like looking at a haunted house from afar.

“So, the end is near, then?”

She lifted her head to see Zoro’s smirk as he gave her his hand to lift her on to the ship. Someone shouted at her to not disappear. She wasn’t afraid of that. She was afraid of staying still. Her head turned around one last time and she saw nothing there.

“Yeah, I guess, the end is here.”

And she took his hand.

[blackflash9]

How AC3 Depicted the Minority Struggle

A common theme throughout AC3 comes from its iteration of the Templars - The Colonial Rite. The narrative was a lot more charitable and sympathetic to the Templar ideology - so much to the point that you'll often get some of those in the community who have become utterly convinced by their rhetoric to the extent that they've been deceived into believing that they were noble and righteous all along despite evidence to the contrary. Do you know who isn't convinced by them? Connor. The protagonist whom some still pretend was some bubbling deer-in-the-headlights who couldn't comprehend how "right" they were. In fact, Connor didn't think any target he killed was right. He even explicitly questions and poses counterarguments. And how do they respond? They just... call him naive instead of properly answering him. Johnson was killing the Natives who opposed him acquiring their land. His argument was that he could protect the Natives when the British or the Colonists came for them. But when Natives ask him if he is really concerned about their protection then he should give them muskets. To which he replies "War is not the answer". Easy for him to say, he wasn't getting driven off of his land. Not taking up for the Patriots, mind you, because they were honestly no different when it came to Native Americans, but Pitcairn's idea of peace was "better we hold the strings than another". When Connor questions that logic, he gets told he's being naive. Hickey? He brags about how Haytham and Connor are chasing lofty goals while his only goals were tits and gold.

Church was chased down by both Haytham and Connor for stealing supplies from the Continental Army. He was a just greedy hedonist who was trying to justify his actions. Connor counters every point Haytham makes while fighting him at Fort George. Sure, he thought if they helped the patriots they'll probably be on their side (but if Juno was right, the Templars were gonna seize his village's land anyway so there was no way he'd have been able to rescue his people), when Connor asks Haytham what makes Templars so special that they know how everything should be, all Haytham offers are excuses.

And he was in no delusion as to what the Patriots are. He points out Sam Adams' hypocrisy of fighting for freedom while owning a slave, he tells off the Sons of Liberty that they mistake him for one of their own before Achilles mentions Pitcairn. He thought Washington was a good guy before he learned he burnt his village, but in Forsaken Haytham lets go of the grudge he held against Washington because he came to see him as a great leader and better tempered than Charles Lee. So it's not like Connor was completely naive as everyone portrays him to be.

Everyone dismisses Connor as this naive kid who doesn't know "how the world works", but no one seems to give a convincing answer to the questions Connor asks. Whenever he asks the people in power (or who seek power, like the Templars) what makes them so special that everyone should obey them, they don't have an answer either. What Connor goes through in the game, is what every oppressed group has gone through. They're always told to wait, always told to liberate themselves at the convenience of their oppressors, their grievances are used as bait by those who seek power but they'll forget the same oppressed people who helped them the second they attain power. But their liberation never comes. The only people who can truly liberate are themselves. That's what the deleted monologue was about. His Creed.

[rook-apologist]

"Sunrise"

(Tumblr gets it first! Ao3 later today!) Pairing: Lace Harding x Rook Thorne (Human) (He/Him)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Tags: Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 731

Prelude: After defeating Elgar'nan in the Archon's palace, an exhausted Rook Thorne and Lace Harding watch the sun rise over the now liberated city. ----------------------------------

The air hung heavy with smoke and ash, the remnants of battle swirling in the faint breeze. Rook sat on the crumbling edge of what had once been the Archon's grand palace, his boots dangling over the ledge. Below him, Minrathous stretched out like a battlefield frozen in time—ruined, blighted, and scarred by the chaos that had consumed it. The rising sun painted the horizon in hues of blood orange and pale gold, a stark contrast to the devastation below.

He let out a slow, weary breath, his body aching with exhaustion. The weight of victory felt strange, almost hollow. The day was won, Elgar’nan was defeated, and the blight was halted, but at a staggering cost. Lives lost, a city in ruins, and Solas penitently bound to the Veil forever. It was over, yet the world didn’t feel saved. Not yet. His mind shifted to rumors of a coming storm beyond the edges of the sea, and those mysterious voices from the magical orbs his team discovered during their journey to stop the blighted elven gods. But that was a worry for tomorrow. For now, he was just focused on trying to enjoy their triumph today.

Nearby, the Inquisitor and Morrigan stood in deep conversation, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of distant cries and collapsing buildings. Plans for rescue efforts were already taking shape, their urgency palpable. On the shattered steps of the Archon’s throne, Neve Gallus knelt beside Bellara, who lay pale and trembling but alive. Despite her blighted condition, Bellara smiled weakly, tears streaming down her face as Neve whispered something that made them both laugh and cry at once. The bond between them was unshakable, forged in fire and despair.

Rook watched it all, letting it blur into a quiet hum at the edges of his awareness. His attention was drawn only when a familiar figure approached, her footsteps light despite the rubble. Lace Harding.

She said nothing as she reached him, her presence warm and steady amidst the ruin. Without hesitation, she sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. Lace leaned her small frame into him, resting her head against his arm. For a moment, neither spoke, both of them letting the silence settle around them, comfortable in the simple fact that they were alive and together.

Finally, Lace broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. “You know, I was thinking about the first time we met,” she began, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “That little village in the Anderfels, the one swarming with darkspawn. You waded into that mess like you had nothing to lose. Saved everyone.”

Rook turned his head slightly to look at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Seemed like the right thing to do. Even if the First Warden thought differently”

She chuckled, the sound light despite the weight of the moment. “I had a feeling, even then, that you were going to ruin me. You had this look in your eyes... like you weren’t just saving them…you were saving me, too. And damn it, I knew I was going to fall for you.”

His chest tightened at her words, a mix of exhaustion and emotion overwhelming him. He shifted slightly, bringing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Funny,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth. “I thought the same thing about you. Like fate…or whatever it is—had plans for us. And here we are.”

Lace tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and something deeper. Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken promises. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, anchored in each other amidst the ruins.When they finally parted, Rook rested his forehead against hers, a tired smile crossing his face.

“I love you Lace Harding.”

Lace smiled and closed her eyes as she rested her head against Rook’s shoulder, “I love you too.”

Rook turned back to the sunrise, his arm still draped around Lace as they watched the light inch over the broken city. For the first time in what felt like ages, there was a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Their journey wasn’t over, but for now, they had this moment, and it was enough.

---------------------------------- This is probably going to be the last short fluff piece I do for awhile, as I am eleven pages deep into a fanfic focused on Rook and Harding visiting Ferelden post-Veilguard. Additionally, I am making another AMV focused on ALL the companions instead of just a specific ship or story moment. Stay tuned!

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

what he deserves, chapter 3

Sanji x Reader, a bit of Law x Reader

Warnings: angst, one-night stand, not really a love triangle – law and reader are mature about the situation. Some implied smut.!!!! WANO SPOILERS!!!!!

a/n: this will be several parts. Leave comment for tags.

Summary: Witnessing all the suffering Sanji went through on Whole Cake Island, all you want is for him to be truly happy…even if it means not with you. Set after the fight in Wano, you go through the motions of an endless fight and end up in bed with the Hearts Pirates’ Captain to distract yourself from the one thing you want the most – Sanji.

masterlist

The village was lively; Otama showed you around since you hadn’t had a chance since landing in Wano. Her hand was glued to yours, pointing out different homes and who they belonged to. She went on and on about how great her big bro Luffy was and how full her belly had been from the last three days of eating. Her smile put into perspective how vast the world was and how this country, this village, was just one small story among millions. There were more stories like Otama’s, more people to help and when you glanced over to Luffy – who was busy devouring his fifth bowl of rice, you knew he’d be the one to liberate everyone. Leaving her to go to the man’s side, you wandered off toward the edge of the village – where the trees were high and shading. Needing some time alone, you walked further into the forest and then perched yourself down near a small pond. Sitting on the ground, your eyes drew closed.

Moments flashed in your mind, memories flowing like a stream. A smile burned through your heart thinking of the crew…Merry…than Sunny… All the arguing and laughing among the seas you all traveled. The best moments in your life were had on the ship but hidden in the cracks of memories were the ones of your family. Biological family. Pain sears through your soul and for a moment, you thought you could smell your mother’s perfume, father’s cigars. You loved them once and you were sure they loved you, but people can become the worst versions of themselves.

And never come back.

For years, you were always on your own. Fending for yourself – being hurt by others, sometimes far worse than what your parents did to you. The physical scars always heal but damage the heart, that was harder to mend. The pond was still, too still for your liking, so you swat a hand into it. Ripples catered to your needs, and you inhaled the air, lungs filling with relief than the tears fell from your eyes. Body shaking, fingers digging into the dirt, all you can do is just sob. Cry until you collapsed onto your back; eyes stung as you stared up past the tree line. It was getting dark, and you felt sleepy, even though you had slept so much last night. Still, there was an incredible tiredness that came over you and it only took a few minutes before you fell asleep…

Crickets woke you up.

How soft their sounds usually were, you were surprised by how loud they were when no one was around. It was dark, moon high and above the trees. Your back ached from the ground and when you sat up, your head felt dizzy. You yawned, getting up from your feet to tug on your kimono; it was dirtied from your nap. Stretching your arms, you felt energetic and started back toward the village – it was a short ten-minute walk, and the village was quiet. The streets were empty sans a few folks walking back to their homes, Luffy was nowhere to be found.

 Shit. Realizing it might be later than you initially thought, you didn’t bother asking anyone if they had seen your captain or gone looking for Otama. Going back to the inn seemed like the best choice but as you moved past the homes, you noticed two young girls in front of their home. They looked no older than sixteen and when you drew closer to them, you saw that one was giving the other a haircut. You stopped and watched, the one getting her hair cut smiled at you. She looked so content and free; eyes filled with a hope of a better future and her hair…it looked good shorter. Asking if you could be next in line, the would-be hairdresser grinned. “Of course.”

An hour later, you stood in front of the inn; your once long hair cut under your chin. It was a drastic change, even a bit severe but losing those inches of hair felt freeing. Being among other women who have been ruled by others, being free by the same man that freed you – it felt electric. You needed this and when you walked into the inn, you hadn’t expected to be rushed by Nami. Her arms flung around your shoulders, and she cursed you under her breath.

“Everyone was so worried.”

Confused, you hugged her back, fingers running through her hair. She pulled back and gawked at your head, asking what you had done to your hair. You laughed. “It’s called a haircut. The real question is why you were so worried, I was only gone for a bit. When did Luffy get back?”

“Eight hours ago!”

She explained that when Luffy came back right before sunset, he said he didn’t know where you were. Everyone figured you were just around. “Or with Law but even he didn’t know where you were! He had gone out to look for you too. Sanji’s been worried, he was the first to go out to find you. Where the hell have you been!”

Chopper rushed into the inn’s entry way and summoned you to the other room for an examination – in tears, asking if you were hurt. Kneeling in front of him, you patted his head three times, just the way he liked it and told him you were fine. “I just fell asleep in the forest.”

Nami scoffed. “Apparently got a haircut on her way back too.”

“Does it look that bad?”

You stood up and looked at the navigator, she glared at you for a long time before giving into a smile. It was cute, she said, and you felt relieved – a bad haircut might set you off again but before you could thank her, Robin and Brook walked in. Both were pleased to see you; the latter urged you to go outside. “The others are on their way; they’ll be happy to see you.”

Following him outside, the rest trailed behind you – Robin noting how pretty your new locks were. Smiling, you walked into the streets and looked in the direction Brook pointed towards. The first person you saw was Luffy and before your eyes could register the figures next to him, his hands grabbed a hold of your shoulders. Knowing what was about to happen, true fear set in as he screamed your name – no doubt waking up every person in the vicinity of the inn. A unison of shouting and pleading from the crew did nothing to sway Luffy’s determination to hug you. All that there was left to do was accept your fate. Bracing yourself, your eyes closed shut and seconds later his entire body seemed to be wrapped around yours. He felt heavy but when you tripped back there were two arms holding you up. Thinking it was Robin, you giggled as you were pushed back into a standing position. Everyone laughed. When Luffy finally released you, the owner of the hands was revealed to be Sanji. He asked if you were alright, chastising Luffy. “You could have hurt her, you moron!”

He slipped his hands away from you, eyes taking in your hair. His heart galloped in a way it never had but he pushed it back the feeling and asked where you had been. You confessed the nap you had taken, and he smiled warmly. A hint of earnestness swept his eyes when you apologized for making him worry. “For making you all go out looking for me,” you added.

“As if we’d leave you behind,” Usopp chimed; you looked to him and mouthed a ‘sorry’. He knew you meant for earlier and he just grinned at you – all was forgiven. Then like the sap you were, tears started to flow alarming everyone. Zoro demanded you to stop crying, but you knew it was only because it was making him uncomfortable. Sanji told him to shut up and placed an arm around your shoulder, asking if you were hurt.

Hurt?

No, you were…happy.

Happy to be with your family and more importantly, happy to be wanted.

Brushing tears from your cheeks, you looked at everyone than to Sanji. “I’m pretty hungry…”

….

The inn’s kitchen was cozy, you sat on a wooden stool watching as Sanji cooked. He had long rid himself of the yellow yukata he had worn for most of his time in Wano; he now wore black slacks and a white, loose button up. Sleeves rolled up his forearm and the first two buttons of the shirt undone. He looked relaxed as he cooked a small dinner for you; neither of you speaking but comfortable enough to enjoy the silence. His hands moved effortlessly, and you studied his every move, moves you had longed memorized. All the times you spent with him in the kitchen, asking questions but confessing you weren’t much of a cook. He smiled when you said that.

“That’s fine, I can do all the cooking.”

Now, he worked diligently – cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth.

“We were all pretty worried when you didn’t’ come back with Luffy.” He spoke but didn’t look up from dicing potatoes for the soup he was making you. “At first, we thought you had gone out on your own, but then it took Luffy an hour to mention that he had lost track of back at Otama’s village. That’s when everyone started to freak out. With everything that’s happened…it seems we’re all on edge.”

“I’m sorry…”

Sanji looked up from his work, eyes a bit sad. “Don’t be sorry for having people that care about you.”

“Then you shouldn’t either,” you snapped back much to Sanji and your surprise. He stopped dicing and placed the knife down. Neither of you knew what to say next, but neither of you could look away from each other. It felt like a standoff with words, both of you trying to figure out what to say next. Then he resided and continued to cook, and for ten minutes no words were spoken until Sanji finally broke the silence.

“Why did Nami lie about you being there when we talked through the mirror dimension?”

Heart racing, you fought the urge to avoid his eye contact, avoid him all together and run upstairs but your feet were frozen to the wood floor. Gripping the edge of the stool, you told him you asked her to lie and when he asked why, you wished lies could roll off your tongue. “Because I was angry at you. Angry that you had no faith in Luffy or us or me to help you.”

“They threatened Zeff, threatened you all.” They being his awful family. Sanji’s head hung low, hands on the small kitchen island. “I couldn’t let them get to him, Luffy, the others…you…. I – I couldn’t…”

Your heart ached for Sanji and all you wanted to do was go to him, hold him, absorb his pain but again, you couldn’t move. A woman frozen. Dread riddled your bones as he looked up to you, eyes pleading for you to understand. God, you did, you did but…

“You were going to go through with it,” you whispered, tears forming. Letting go of the stool, you held a hand to your chest and trembled. “You were going to go through with the wedding because they wanted you to. The family that discarded you. You told me how awful they were to you, Sanji.”

“But I had to…”

“I understand why you did it,” you admitted, wiping away a stray tear. “I do. But you didn’t even give Luffy a chance, give me a chance to help you. Not from the start. Didn’t you realize that we would do anything for each other? Was not that evident enough after all this time? We are your family, Sanji. We are. Not those awful people and not that awful girl.”

Sanji couldn’t comprehend the scene before him – the tears in your eyes, the look of devastation on your face, or the pain in his heart. He couldn’t form words, let alone a sentence but somehow, he managed to speak and the instant he did, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Even if he had said it out of nerves, trying to ease the tension. It would be something he’d regret until the end of time, but he couldn’t grasp the knowledge that you might feel the same as him – couldn’t be possible.

“She wasn’t so awful.”

His response to the heart pouring you just did stun the nerves in your system and all you could do was laugh. A low, melancholy laugh. Willing the tears away, you stood up from the stool and smiled softly at the startled cook. “Well, then, maybe Usopp was right. Maybe you should have married Pudding. You’re the kindest person I know Sanji and if you couldn’t warm her heart, no one could. I’m not feeling so hungry anymore. Goodnight.”

The cigarette fell from his mouth onto the cutting board as he watched you exit the kitchen; he wanted to call out to you, beg for your forgiveness. Yet, the shame of even mentioning Pudding kept him where he stood. He listened to the sound of your sandals clicking until he could no longer hear it, and when the coast was clear, he allowed the tears to flow freely. He didn’t know if it was possible to even come back from a conversation like this one. Or if you’d ever be willing to speak to him again and he wasn’t so sure he even deserved a second chance.

......

tags:

@stuckinthewrongworld @theyluvmesblog

@synchronised-beat @hi3431

@fandomsunited @ghostercy

@yuki190 @bowscale @utakamo

@fire-child-kira @cheshireshiya

@teenyforestfairy @sukilovesyou

@69cocktimusprime @littlemissfiore @kodzuchim

@angeiisa @bitchycoffeepainter69

@secretlife028 @idiot-sanwich02

@abandonedbrat @breens-nick

@bocchi-the-heart @sseleniaa

@depression-247 @sweetgurl1623-blog-blog

@punem69 @themossiestchick @sweetcoldmelancholy

@sanjipudinzinho @baelien-queen

@kodzuchim @kfcmuncha @bloodysweetcat

@angeiisa @gingersnap126126

want to be tagged in next part? leave a comment!

if you want off, let me know!

[bigfan-fanfic]

Support from the Back Line (Male!Reader x Twilight Princess!Link)

Requested by @jayfeather965 for  Life with Twilight Link as he prepares to kill ganon then in the following days and months afterwards.

The progression of the Twilight has been a strange event indeed for Hyrule.

And its sudden pushback even stranger.

No one but you truly seems to know what's going on - that a lone swordsman aided by scattered people across Hyrule has been fighting back the Twilight and liberating everyone.

It's shocking really, that these world-changing events are happening, almost in the background, with life just continuing on as it does.

It can be nearly impossible to go to the market and buy and sell, when you take a moment to think that the fate of your town, your nation, your whole world - is all on the shoulders of someone else.

However... it doesn't make you feel helpless or hopeless.

Because you're one of the scattered people helping him.

You guided Link around Castle Town when he returned as a human, helping him to Telma's Bar and warning him to avoid the racist Doctor Borville.

And whenever he came back to town to deliver bugs to Agatha or sneak into Jovani's house, he would come to you.

You help him gain supplies and the things he needs, and provide him a place to rest for a few hours.

acquaintance became companionship became love.

So Link comes into town and now seeks you out just to see you, not even when he needs something else.

He seeks you out for kisses, for cuddles and comfort, for meals that remind him of home.

And you enjoy his company, though he speaks rarely, and he yours.

He lingers at your home, and finally tells you that he's getting ready to face the final threat. He's returned from the Twilight Realm and is ready to take on the Demon King.

"You'll come back to me, right?" you say, less a request and more an order. He smiles and nods eagerly, taking you in his arms.

He kisses you for the first time then. A promise to return for more.

It's a day like any other, it seems, when he returns and just pulls you to your bed to sleep.

In the days and months that follow, Link returns once to his home village to bring the kids and Ilia back and say his goodbyes.

And he comes to you.

He still rides around Hyrule on adventures now and then. Missions for the Princess, who tasks him with helping reunite the scattered peoples.

But no matter what, you know he'll return to you.

He has a home with you, a place to truly belong.

And with him, you have a purpose and drive.

You build a home together, and once he starts staying with you for longer between adventures, you turn his heroism in another direction - you help out the people in Castle Town, the friends that come to visit; simply making the world a better place in a time of peace.

Link speaks rarely, but it never bothers you. You can read his face and sometimes it feels like you share a mind.

His love for you shines in the things he does for you, unconsciously and consciously. You are foremost in his mind, even when he's not thinking.

You are his.

He is yours.

[fayromance]

Thinking about the age symbolism and human sacrifice in two of Alice's stories — Arcanum & ATHWTU

In season 3 of Arcanum there was a whole subplot about young beautiful women being sacrificed and left in the woods in the "Sleeping Beauty" state. Their bodies later would be used to make the Immortality Potion. All those women were 27 — Selena's own age. In fact, it was one of the demands of the sacrifice — that sacrificial woman should be exactly 27 years of age. Also the person who was supervising this whole process of selecting victims is Josephine — an older woman who holds all the power in that small town and everyone's terrified of her (sounds kinda similar to someone we know from ATHWTU, doesn't it?)

And now in And The Haze Will Take Us they keep bringing up the fact that Lada is 18 (as well as her now deceased twin, Vereya) and the symbolic significance of it: Lada starts hearing the Call at this age, same as Ozar who started having visions at 18; the High Priestess says Lada reminds her of herself at that age.

Lada turned 18 the night of the Spring Equinox, the same night her sister mysteriously died. And all the hell broke loose in that village after that — with the Sacred Oak losing its foliage, the Leshy luring people in unusually close to the village and, finally, an all-out attack by Koscheis. What's more, the previous attack which decimated the village's population (and left my poor boy Volot an orphan 🤧) also happened 18 years ago — the night the girls were born.

Furthermore, Novak's father willingly left the village and stepped into the Haze (taking his young son with him) exactly 18 years ago

All of this makes me think there's some sort of cycle in this village that happens every 18 years: Koscheis attack the village and the priests have to resort to human sacrifice to appease the gods and gain their protection. If Novak's father (who was a priest himself) hypothetically sacrificed himself and his child by walking into the Haze, this might be the reason the attacks have stopped for 18 years.

But now the cycle started again and a new sacrifice is necessary. The High Priestess practically won't shut up about having to sacrifice one human to save many.

Now, going back to Volot stabbing Lada in this update... What if this is a vision of the future where Lada becomes that sacrifice under certain circumstances (like her stats, relationships, special choices)? And with her blood spilled, the cycle will be complete — for another 18 years.

That being said, I really, really hope it doesn't come to this. Even on the Reality path where Lada seems to be very loyal to the gods and ready to give up a lot to win their favor. It will literally crush my soul — having to see how my beloved Volot kills my precious girl 🥺💔 And although I believe he won't hurt her if you improve romantic or friendly relationship with him, it would still hurt to see that on other paths

PS the ease with which the High Priestess speaks of human sacrifices, makes me think she's done this before. Probably to her own sister that she lost when they were young and now seems to mourn (which is another parallel to 18-year-old Lada and Vereya). Honestly, if I had my way, we'd go ahead and liberate the village from this woman's fanaticism and tyranny 😑

[bobbybutterfly]

How about the general weasel commander?

Oh yeah! Here you go!

I was about to post this when I remembered I should try to push myself a little bit again. So I tried the hard round brush. Every time I use it I hate the outcome. I just don’t know how to use it. This piece I would say looks okay. I like how it added a bit more 3 dimensionality to him. Especially in the face. This time I also thought specifically about from where the lighting is coming from. It looks like he’s practicing kendo in the early morning.

A while ago I started watching Revolutionary Girl Utena where I learned about it (I knew about it before vaguely). Amazing anime. 16 year old me would have loved it. I mainly made him do kendo because I like to imagine him fighting my OC Shiho Tenshi. Who would win? Kendo or fencing? I’m sure someone made a YouTube video about it.

Commander Jobgebi is from a royal family in my AU. Probably descended from that world’s samurais. He’s very traditional due to how he was raised. He also likes to read and is highly educated. Most weasels don’t like him, finding his views outdated. Because of that he’s lonely. His only friend being While Weasel who shares similar opinions. But with him working on Sturgeon they don’t get to see each other often. Lastly Commander Jobgebi has an off again on again relationship with my OC Shiho Tenshi. Their main conflict stemming from him wanting them to adopt a more feminine presentation and become his wife.

I thought I would also go into a bit of a history of my Squirrel and Hedgehog AU in this ask. It would be useful to have it somewhere written down.

SO! The land we know as Flower Hill used to be a bunch of separate villages. A lot of them with long standing conflicts. That was until the Mouse Kingdom occupied the villages and called the new territory Flower Hill. OG Mouse Kingdom was south of Flower Hill. I made up some sappy story that the mouse king named the territories Flower Hill because they were a romantic gift to his wife.

Now I dunno. That was about 500 years before the events of the show. 20 years before the events of the show Flower Hill liberates itself from the Mouse Kingdom. There’s a lot more detail I could go into about that as it involves the wolves. But in the end they managed to send the mice back to the south.

This caused a crisis for the Mouse Kingdom. All their agriculture was being done in the north while the south was industrial. Leading to the Mouse Kingdom suffering a food shortage. The workers stopped going to factories. Instead going to the streets to protest. Everyone is fed up with the monarchy. Even the military.

The weasels see a chance to heh weasel their way in. Sending COMMANDER JOGJEBI! Remember when this post was about him? He goes to meet with the mouse king. Along the way bumping into the crown prince Mulmangcho. The weasels offer aid with the unrest. Provided they get something in return…

The king isn’t stupid. He might be delusional, thinking he can solve the situation by himself. But he knows if he took the offer he would become nothing more than a puppet.

It didn’t amount to much in the end. The weasels backed the rebels who eventually over threw the monarchy. Bringing us to the time the show takes place.

Damn. Did not expect this post to be so long. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed what I wrote.

[jyndor]

oh my god

a show written by white us americans for us american kids, while often spot on with its anti-imperialism, is not actually the end all be all for how occupied and marginalized peoples can respond to their oppression and genocide. weirdo.

full disclosure I have my problems with the portrayals of jet and hama for this exact reason that i have previously written about here. because ultimately the gaang represent "good" resistance - mostly defensive/nonviolent. jet represents "bad" resistance, namely violent property damage that would have caused civilian casualties if sokka hadn't warned them. and hama, who thanking this op didn't bring up, is supposed to show how trauma can make a person do terrible things but really it just feels like a racist, misogynistic way to both sides colonialism and imperialism.

now unless I'm misremembering the story (I am not) that episode took place in the earth kingdom. why were those innocent fire nation civilians so close to the valley that jet was trying to protect? why was he worried about them encroaching on that valley enough to destroy the dam?

because they were settlers. the fire nation was trying to defeat and occupy the entire world, of course their settlers weren't just innocent civilians, they played a role like all settlers do in all conflicts. and jet and his freedom fighters were all displaced by the fire nation. they were refugees.

in the end, the gaang may have their problems with jet's tactics but they still mourn him and understand that he is RESISTING oppression, and not that he is the same as his oppressor.

katara is UNIQUELY empathetic and decent at times. during the painted lady, she makes it clear that she wants the liberation of ALL - including her oppressors who are also victimized by fire nation imperialism (and capitalism lbr). she sees the class dynamics in the fire nation, sees how they harm the villagers of jang hui. how the military industrial complex poisons fire nation citizens - literally. the problem is that they are happy to take her help when they think she is one of them, but when she reveals herself to be a waterbender, they turn away from her in their racist, xenophobic disgust.

the truth is that katara's form of universal liberatory politics is just one form of resistance against oppression. sometimes atla veers into making it seem like the only acceptable form of resistance, which is quite convenient for the white us americans who wrote the show.

one of atla's main ideas is that imperialism harms everyone, including the beneficiaries of imperialism. it was also written in the early to mid 2000s during the so-called war on terrorism, and with a us american audience in mind. so no I am not surprised that jet isn't seen in a totally positive light, nor am I surprised that the fire nation is occasionally presented in a "not all fire nation" way. it still posits that those innocent civilians are racist/colonizers and frankly complicit in many ways for what the fire nation is doing abroad.

this is why jet isn't a villain, he's just a complicated character. why he is made a martyr. why katara mourns him even if she's angry with him.

as for whether or not katara would condemn hamas... I'm not sure it matters. movements regularly have infighting and disagreements on tactics. even so, atla is a TV show. palestine is a real place with real people who have tried all kinds of forms of resistance. nothing is ever good enough for supporters of the settler colonial project of israel because the point is never, ever to live together in peace. two state solution? where do you see that in atla? if ANYTHING the show calls for pluralism and freedom of movement for all. for an end to nation states and nationalism, as well as preservation of all cultures. liberation for all.

I can't speak to the mess of the comics or lok because I don't care about those but if we're just talking about atla... come on. it's free palestine.

also nice false equivalency between the free palestine movement as a whole and hamas, which is just one part of the movement. racist dipshit genocide apologist.

[lucaaazd]

Snippet of a (not so) little Aruani story I’ve been working on. I love it so much and it’s helped me through some real trying times. Don’t have an ao3 account yet so thought I’d share a chapter on here :)

Premise: A decade after the Rumbling, Armin and Mikasa share a rare moment away from their families in the shade of their childhood tree. Armin opens up about his struggles to connect with one of his children, which leads him down a path of remembrance and reflection.

Ships: primarily Aruani, but a lottttt of other ships get a cameo as well. Eremika, Jeankasa, Jeanpiku, Mikannie, Reijean & more !

TW: (just in this chapter) mentions of abuse

Canon-compliant 💚

“

Life happens.

Annie told him not to worry. She told him how years of physical and emotional abuse, compounded by the multitude of medical experiments Marley conducted on her had likely rendered her infertile.

Looking back, Armin realized he wanted to believe her more than he really did. Why risk it? It’s not like him. He’d read books about the human body and its resilient, unpredictable nature, especially when it comes to the uterus. He remembered flipping through some vividly illustrated pages fervorously at the ripe age of twelve when the librarian with the broken nose caught him, threatening to tie him up for the bit of inappropriate reading he’s doing. The town of Liana, an idle green village tucked away in the thickets of elms and cedars native to Northwestern Wall Rose, wasn’t exactly sizable. Armin often sought shelter in the only library in an hour’s horse ride, which was affiliated with the prestigious Askatu Institute of Science and Liberal Arts. He might have even gone to college if not for what happened to their hometown. Gran was already gone. No one cared if he read a couple books he’s too young for.

Still, ten years later, he’d let Annie lead him into those dark, unused train cars at the wee hours of dawn, words like fallopian tubes and ovulation burnt into his retina. How lame. Was he supposed to be thinking of those when the hand around his was soft and warm and he could feel the urgency in the way it squeezed and tugged him?

Armin's one of those boys who didn’t hit that growth spurt till about 15, with tiny prepubescent shoulders and a squeaky voice that stayed that way when everyone else was going through changes. Annie on the other hand - pretty much everyone had found themselves stealing glances at her at one point or another when they were kids, including Armin. There’s things he’d never even told Mikasa or Eren, including the time when he took it one step too far.

It was way before they became soldiers. He was eleven. He didn’t even know her name. All he knew was that she was an orphan with no one looking out for her. He just wanted to make sure she’s okay.

At least that’s what he told himself.

Him and Annie had reached the unspoken agreement of feigned forgetfulness regarding their encounters, if you could even call them that, back in those days.

One of the first nights after their enlistment, some dude made a tipsy remark along the lines of: “What’s her name again? Elaine? Right, Annie. Annie’s just cool man. There’s just something cool about her.” There was always a lot going on in the mess hall due to certain recruits still getting the hang of respectful communal living, but that comment in particular stood out against the rest. In all the wolf whistles, laughter and murmurs of agreement that ensued, Armin kept his mouth shut. He was kinda hoping they were talking about some other Annie. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure her name was Annie. It definitely wasn’t Elaine. She’d talked maybe twice since their first day and when she did, she was quiet like a mouse.

He couldn’t even remember that dude’s name or face now. He had a feeling he never figured out what exactly was cool about Annie. Probably squashed under her foot like a fly in Stohess. Soldiers from all three factions, including a lot of their fellow cadets, perished that day.

Still, a good number of well-intentioned admirers refused to believe Annie was a cold-blooded mass murderer long after her cover was blown. The rest harbored a justifiable burning hatred towards her based on the conclusion that she’s an insane, sadistic psycho bitch who deserved to get cut up slowly.

Armin knew for a fact that Annie herself leaned towards the second theory, no matter how much she tried to make it seem otherwise. He knew that since the day he watched her hungrily from his hiding spot behind a willow tree as a child, wonder decaying into horror when he realized what she was doing. He knew when she broke down into a manic fit of laughter at the mouth of the underground passageway he had hoped to lure her into. His initial trepidation bubbled into anger, then disgust, then a burning desire to see her bonded and gagged and find out exactly what lay behind those hollow, listless pupils. Her story, one he pieced together with what little could be extracted from her obstinate silence, was punctuated with way too many contradictions for one cohesive meaning to be teased out.

The art of deceiving was not a specialty of hers, hence the muteness. In that way and many other ways, she’s not at all like Reiner or Bertolt, who spewed out lie after lie with all the ingredients of a good story, combining fair quantities of truth and well-phrased speculation with a sprinkling of theatrical alterations to stir the flavors. It took Armin hours of studying Annie’s unresponsive form in the crystal, opening up time and unrolling it to its full length so that he could single out a quiet scoff, the clenching of a fist, replaying the moment frame by frame for signs of mental fissure or psychosomaticism. He kept descending the stairs to the basement where she was held captive, long after spectators’ footsteps grew farther and fewer in between and eventually diminished to the echo of one lone pair of boots, his own.

.”

This chapter is very stream of consciousness but I promise it’s not all gonna be like this 😭 anyways, if u made it this far, cheers and have a good day 💚

Luca 💚

[granvarones]

the roots of queer clubs can be traced back to the early 20th century. many of these spaces existed in secrecy, then in the aftermath of the stonewall uprising against police violence in june 1969, queer clubs began to emerge from the shadows. the uprisings served as catalyst for transformation of queer nightlife.

in the 1970s and 1980s and throughout the 1990s, clubs continued to serve a profound role personal and collective liberation. these venues provided a space that offered a sense of freedom and refuge from homophobia and discrimination and music played a pivotal role. the songs , which often times could only be heard in queer spaces - months before they crossed over to mainstream pop radio, were a sonic invitation for everyone to come out to dance and be free on the dance floor.

below are a few of the songs that soundtracked the celebration of coming out to and/or inviting people into your world. may we all find a dance floor to move and be with abandon as we sing, or lip sync, to our favorite songs!

I WAS BORN THIS WAY • CARL BEAN

defiant in its profound message about gay pride, self-acceptance, and self-affirmation, “i was born this way” was initially released in 1975 by motown recording artist valentino. two years later, in 1977, carl bean, also on motown, covered the song and made it an anthem on and off the dance floor. bean’s version was remixed and re-released as the “better days” remix. it ignited dance floors again - almost a decade later.

I’M COMING OUT • DIANA ROSS

written by the prolific producer nile rodgers, “i’m coming out” was inspired after nile saw multiple diana ross drag performers in a bathroom at a new york queer club in 1979.

although the term “coming out” had been used to describe self-disclosure around sexual orientation and gender identity since the turn of the 20th century, ross was surprisingly unaware of the concept until nile told diana, “..this song is gonna be your coming-out song. we think of you as our black queen…”

I AM WHAT I AM | GLORIA GAYNOR

“i am what i am” was initially written for the 1983 broadway musical “la cage aux folles.” gloria gaynor, first lady of disco, released a dance version later that year. “i am what i am,” became a global queer anthem during a time when “coming out” was fiercely encouraged to build community and organize around the still unfolding AIDS crisis.

I’M COMING OUT OF HIDING | PAMALA STANLEY

philadelphia-born and raised pamela stanley scored a string of dance hits in the early 1980s. Her most notable song was the Hi-NRG classic “coming out of hiding.”

released nationally in 1984, “coming out of hiding” became a massive club hit, reaching #4 on billboard’s dance chart, and became an anthem among gay men during the onset of the AIDS crisis. a time when severe homophobia threatened to chase LGBTQ folks back into the closet.

NEW ATTITUDE | PATTI LABELLE

by the release of “new attitude” at the end of 1984, patti labelle had already cemented herself as a queer icon for her fashion, performance style, and resilience. she was also one of the first recording artists to support and perform at AIDS benefits.

if a jolt of energy could be a timeless self-empowering anthem, it would be “new attitude.” the song’s uplifting message of self-confidence, transformation, and embracing one’s connection with queer audiences.

COME INTO MY HOUSE | QUEEN LATIFAH

“welcome into my queendom, come one, come all…,” the opening line of the first verse of queen latifah’s 1990 hip-hop/house track “come into my house” is an invitation into her world, extended to those of us who were either exiled from or denied entry into kingdoms that valued hyper-masculinity and conformity. and visitors are greeted with the song’s refrain, “give me body!,” an invitation into her world and community.

GO WEST | PET SHOP BOYS

originally recorded and released by queer disco group the village people in 1979, “go west” is an unapologetic rallying cry about gay freedom and migration to san francisco. english synth-pop queer duo pet shop boys’ 1993 cover was hopeful and reflective in its yearning for acceptance and community. a theme that resonated emotionally during immense loss during the height of the AIDS crisis.

FREE HAPPY & GAY | THE COMING OUT CREW

in the 1990s, as LGBTQ+ culture continued to gain mainstream visibility, the coming out crew’s 1995 exuberant dance track “free, gay and happy” captured the unwavering power of queer joy and hope. written and performed by renowned vocalist sabrina johnston, “free, gay and happy” became a club hit in both the US and UK.

[blackfeathersflurry]

Hey, hope you don’t mind me sending in another letter with in such short time, as I understand your time is valued for other letters than mine.

When up brought up the term “pseudo-Messiah” when speaking on parasocial ideation and obsession to escape daily life, it made me think about the context you used it in. Messiahs are preserved as saviours or liberators in religious contexts. Your obsession with Jenova, or your mother as you say, you express as impacting you as more negative than positive. But really you can’t blame yourself, everyone always tries to find someone to lean on for support and guidance, parents usually filling that slot most of the time. It’s hard to find someone who can fill that if your parental guardians aren’t the ones you want to follow in their footsteps. This also follows in with parasocial relationships, as when people get obsessed with someone—fictional or not— that when said person does try to break out of said obsession, it can be hard sometimes. Obviously you need to trust your own gut sometimes and make the right call.

I’m getting off-track here, my apologies… You’ve had this experience from both perspectives; With your experiences, which is worse? Being the obsession, or being the obsessed?

-♾️

Hello again ♾️,

See, that's the interesting thing. Many cult leaders refer to themselves as messiah's, prophets or pseudo messiah's to some degree. And while, yes, I did consider myself one, I am still working through my experiences regarding the issue. Regardless, despite the fact that many believe that I shouldn't blame myself, it does not change the fact that people were harmed. And to just simply act like something of those lines never happened would be like going under the assumption that Shinra never destroyed entire towns or villages for the sake of capital gain. It would be like going under the guise that I never fought in the Wutang war and claimed the blood of hundreds of people. That said, my being a pseudo Messiah was purely impart of my liberating human souls and life forms from the planet. Purely for "mother's" reign.

So no, please do not apologize for your observations.

As for the obsession versus the obsessed part...

I find it a little odd that fans obsessed themselves over my hygiene and hair care habits. However it had its benefits, such as a pretty healthy stock of luxury shampoo and conditioner.

Being the obsessed comes with an uncontrollable mania that is almost painful to resist. You get a near murderous urge that you wake up with every single day as you ponder who your next victim may be. And when you know that this habit is developed and that it can be controlled, it can be even more frightening. Because you don't know where your breaking point may be.

[eimearkuopio]

You live in a big fancy manor house owned by a rich man who runs a lot of the village. Never mind how he acquired that wealth, or whether he is a just lord. That part of the story doesn't matter right now.

He left his servants and his children in charge while he stepped out for a bit. The children decided it would be fun to throw a rager, and went around inviting everyone in the village. Some people wanted to join in. Some people felt like they had to because the local lord's children were insisting. Some people got straight-up kidnapped out their own fucking homes and dragged to some stupid party they didn't even want to go to.

And some people really shouldn't have been invited in the first place, but that's what happens when you decide to "get wild".

Things got out of hand. You got your first taste of freedom, and it was sweet until it turned bitter.

Luckily for you, I live in the next town over, and one of my kids ended up at your party. She had the common sense to get in touch, in spite of all the older kids yelling at her and telling her it was a bad idea and you would all get in trouble.

And now, I'm here.

Think of me as your slightly weird aunt. Your dad doesn't approve. We have different parenting styles, and sometimes I'm more liberal, and sometimes He is, but we both love your whole generation of tiny dumbasses.

Admittedly, I love my tiny dumbass more than I love His tiny dumbasses, but I do still love you.

You've trashed the place. Maybe you didn't think that would happen. Maybe you thought the House Rules would keep the party from devolving into chaos.

Step one is getting rid of the ones who shouldn't be here. Anyone who wants to leave, LET THEM. It's not their job to clean up your mess. Some of them have homes to go to! Anyone who wants to help out, you owe them one. You're scared of how they might leverage it? Too bad, shouldn't have thrown a rager. Anyone you think it might be a good idea to get rid of anyway... Make your own call and accept the consequences, or feel free to ask me. I might not get it right, but I have better odds than most of you kids. (The kid who called me is sticking around. You owe her big time, but you don't need to be worried that she'll be in trouble when it's time for her to come home. If she hadn't managed to overcome the terror you instilled in her, she might actually have tried to torch the place, and that would have been worse. She did fine.)

Step two is cleanup and repairs. Anything absolutely trashed beyond repair should be recorded and remembered. If it's something that can be replaced, you're going to need to figure out how. In this parable, children should do more of the clean-up than servants. Servants will guide and instruct, and will probably help out because that's part of their job, but they didn't make this mess and I will not be happy if they are left to clean it up. Maybe think of it as the shepherds being given carte blanche to supervise the wise men. My kid is a good kid, but she's still a kid. Ask her, and if she's not sure, she'll try to find me.

I'll wander around and keep an eye on things. This is your house, not mine, so I don't know the specifics; but I actually run my own household instead of leaving it all to the servants, so I can probably offer some helpful tips.

I don't know when He'll be home. I don't know how bad it will be when He gets here; I've seen some pretty messed up shit, but He has definitely mellowed with age. But I would strongly recommend you stop wasting any more time and GET TO WORK.

[kyra-writes-too-much]

Boiling Rage - Part 1

thanks for the request!!!!

@tobitofunction

“Saw that your open for Zuko request, maybe something about Zuko leaving Mai for the reader and Mai confronting Zuko about it in the boiling rock while reader is there was well”

I loved this idea so i wrote a lot of background too lol here’s part 1! lmk what u guys think in the comments!!! updates maybe a little slow cuz i’m trying to juggle all-honors classes, club softball, theater, and writing so please be patient, thank you! <3

word count 1.1k

~ ~ ~

You wake up to the sound of Zuko’s voice. 

“How are you going to get there, on Appa? Last time I checked, prisons don’t have bison daycares.”

This is followed by sigh. Presumably Sokka’s, because he isn’t in his sleeping bag either. 

“We’ll take my war balloon.”

What?

Zuko and Sokka are leaving? 

Not without me, they’re not, you think. 

You know the location of the balloon, and decide to follow the boys on their excursion. You silently slip out of your sleeping bag, and scale the wall of the cliffs surrounding the Western Air Temple. The forest is easy for you to navigate, as you often come there to hunt for meat and collect edible plants. And as a former Kyoshi Warrior, the obstacles and underbrush don’t deter you too much. In no time at all, you make it to the clearing where the war balloon is. 

Zuko and Sokka don’t arrive for ten more minutes. When you hear them coming, you crouch in the balloon's basket. 

“Okay, here it- AHH! Y/N!?” 

You collapse in a fit of giggles at the look on your boyfriend’s face. Sokka appears behind him, gaping at you in shock. 

Zuko takes a breath, quickly regaining his composure. “Y/N?” he repeats. “What are

you doing here?”

“Waiting for you guys, obviously,” you reply nonchalantly. “You said that you were taking the war balloon.”

Sokka gives you a smile. “So you’re coming to help?” 

“Uhh, yeah. What am I helping with exactly?”

While Sokka explains the plan to liberate his dad, Zuko gets the balloon ready to fly. When he’s all set and you’re caught up to speed, Zuko starts to firebend and the balloon takes off. 

You yawn, tired from getting little sleep. Sitting against the edge of the basket, you close your eyes and let the sweet darkness of sleep wash over you. 

~ ~ ~

“Pretty clouds,” Sokka says awkwardly, attempting to start a conversation with Zuko. 

“Yeah,” Zuko responds. “Fluffy.”

Sokka starts whistling a tune. 

“What?” Zuko asks, aggravated.

“What? I didn’t… say anything,” Sokka responds. “You know, a friend of mine actually designed these balloons.”

“No kidding.”

“Yep. A balloon, but for war.”

“If there’s one thing my dad’s good at, it’s war.”

“Yeah, it seems to run in the family,” Sokka agrees accusingly. 

“Hey, hold on, not everyone in my family is like that,” Zuko retorts.  

“I know, I know, you’ve changed,” Sokka says, attempting to diffuse the tension. 

“I meant my uncle,” Zuko mutters. “He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down.” 

“I think your uncle would be proud of you. Leaving your home to come help us, that’s hard.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” Zuko admits. 

“Really, you didn’t leave behind anyone that you cared about?”

“I had a girlfriend, but we broke up. I have Y/N now, though.” He looked at your sleeping form fondly. 

“Is that why you broke up with…”

“Mai? Yeah.”

“Huh. That gloomy girl who sighs a lot?” 

“Yeah. I… never really loved her the way I should’ve, but Y/N…” he trails off.

“How’d you meet her, anyway?”

Zuko laughs wryly. “The first time we met, I accidentally burnt down her village. But we met again in Ba Sing Se, when I was working in my uncle’s tea shop. She was kind to me, and at first I pushed her away, but… she was persistent. And eventually, I realized that I loved her. And then we met again here, and, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“What about you?” Zuko asks. “Do you…”

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

“That’s rough, buddy.”

~ ~ ~

“There it is!” 

You sit up groggily, and Sokka jumps up excitedly. 

“There’s plenty of steam to keep us covered. As long as we’re quiet, we should be able to navigate through it without being caught,” Zuko informs. 

You get up and stand beside the boys as you enter the steam cloud. The heat covers you like a wet blanket. And then the balloon starts dropping. 

“We’re going down!” Zuko hisses. “The balloon’s not working anymore!” 

“The air inside is just as hot as the air outside so we can’t fly!” Sokka replies. 

The balloon lists to the side, and you’re all thrown against the wall of the basket. You’re pressed into Zuko, who wraps an arm around you protectively. 

“So what are we supposed to do?” your boyfriend says. 

“I don’t know, crash landing?”

“Careful not to touch the water,” you warn. “It may splash up on impact.”

The water grows closer until you hit it with a splash. Sokka didn’t listen to your advice, and he yelps as the water hits his hand. 

A moment later, the balloon crashes into the shore. You all tumble out of the basket in a tangle of limbs.

As Sokka and Zuko argue about the Water Tribe boy’s impulsiveness, you take in the environment surrounding you. The prison is enormous and imposing, the top of the walls barely visible through the thick steam.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, you realize. 

~ ~ ~

“I hope these disguises work,” Zuko says. You slide down the visor of your helmet. 

“I’m sure they will. Stop worrying, we’ll be fine,” you assure him, squeezing his hand tightly. He gives you a small smile through the helmet’s visor, which you return. 

Suddenly, a group of guards runs by the door. “Guards, there’s a scuffle in the yard! Come on,”  calls one of the actual prison guards. You all look at each other, but follow, jogging to keep up. 

The scuffle in the yard is “resolved”, and Sokka goes to escort the prisoner to the coolers (whatever that means), but not before saying to meet back there in an hour. 

“You! Come help get the prisoners back to their cells!” one of the older guards orders. With a start, you realize he’s talking to you. 

Zuko draws in a sharp breath, but you just whisper, “See you in an hour,” and hurry after the guard. 

~ ~ ~ 

You’re gone for much more than an hour. You didn’t realize the sheer number of prisoners before. You you did gain some information about what times the prisoners are fed, and let into the yard, and when they’re forced into jobs like mopping the floors, but   it’s nearly dark by the time you’re done. As soon as you can, you go to look for the boys. 

After a while searching, you finally spot Sokka  in the dining hall. 

“Hey, guard. What’s up?” you greet him. 

“Y/N! Thank the spirits you’re ok. Where were you?” 

“I was doing guards jobs,” you mutter. “Where’s Zuko?”

Sokka frowns. “He’s kind of… in a cooler right now?”

[elipheleh]

Stonewall

Continuing my series of learning about things referenced in the book, I'm looking at things Alex references when he talks about engaging with queer history. These are all tagged #a series of learning about things that are referenced in the book, if you want to block the tag.

Stonewall is one of the more well known events, but that doesn't mean that everyone knows what happened, so it's still important - I think - to cover it.

‘Stonewall’ is used by Alex to refer to the Stonewall Riots, which began on the 28th of June, 1969. Patrons of the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, New York City, fought back after a regular police raid, triggering subsequent nights of riots. The police were targeting gay bars, and had been for years. They would raid gay establishments and arrest anyone who wasn’t wearing three items of clothing that complied with their gender, in accordance with New York State law. Unfortunately, the catalyst for why the patrons fought back that night is heavily disputed, even from people present, and there is no clear answer why. Some say that a lesbian began the riot by fighting back against a policeman who was 'mauling' her, others say a trans person hit a policeman - some think that was Tammy Novak, who fought back when a cop tried to push her into a police van. What is known is that patrons refused to provide identification, and others refused to go with police. Those who weren't arrested didn't disperse as usual, but rather gathered outside the Inn watching their peers being arrested. At some point, as mentioned above, the riot began and violence broke out. The police, in trying to restrain some of the crowd, knocked people down - which only increased the anger of the crowd.

Michael Fader talks about the mood:

We all had a collective feeling like we'd had enough of this kind of shit. It wasn't anything tangible anybody said to anyone else, it was just kind of like everything over the years had come to a head on that one particular night in the one particular place and it was not an organized demonstration ... Everyone in the crowd felt that we were never going to go back. It was like the last straw. It was time to reclaim something that had always been taken from us ... All kinds of people, all different reasons, but mostly it was total outrage, anger, sorrow, everything combined, and everything just kind of ran its course.

The riots continued into the early hours of the morning, thirteen people had been arrested and some of the crowd were hospitalised. Rioting continued the following nights, but so too did the desire to organise and take action to secure gay liberation. By 1974, five years later, there were more than 800 gay organisations - compared to the 50 that pre-dated the riots.

The above image is the only known photo taken during the first night of the riots. It shows the homeless gay youth who stayed nearby the Stonewall Inn fighting with police.

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There is an ongoing debate over the importance of Stonewall within queer history. It has become synonymous with the "origin" of the gay rights movement, something which many of those involved with early activism disagree with. In the years preceding Stonewall, activists were working towards gay liberation through various different methods.

The Mattachine Society, founded in 1950 in Los Angeles by Harry Hay (and other, unnamed, friends), but spread nationally, had been carrying out "Sip-in's" in New York in an attempt to legalise gay bars. The State Liquor Authority had been denying licenses to bars which served gay people in an attempt to rid the streets of queer people & others who were seen by politicians as "undesirables". They planned that members of The Mattachine Society would enter the bar, announce their homosexuality, and wait to see if they were served. If they were not, they then would file a complaint against the bar and - more importantly - the State Liquor Authority for violating their constitutional right to free assembly & equal accommodation. Bars had been using the State Liquor Authority's requirements of "orderly conduct" to refuse service. Queer encounters between two men were classed as "disorderly", enabling the bars to discriminate against gay people. In 1966, the highest court in New York ruled in their favour, saying that the SLA could not revoke a license on the basis of homosexual solicitation.

There were many other ways queer activism was being carried out, many successful, but it would make this post much too long if I were to list it all. It’s all reasonably easy to find online, the Library of Congress link below has some useful information.

The work carried out by gay activists, especially since the 1950s, had created a point where all that was needed to ignite the gay liberation movement was one event that empowered gay men and women to band together and fight for their rights. Scholars tend to argue that the Stonewall Riots were that catalyst, especially as the media coverage meant queer Americans saw clearly that there were others fighting for their rights, and there were others who were like them.

Sources: Stonewall Origins, Time SLA Sip In's - Stonewall. Carter 2005, page 50 The Gay ‘Sip-In’ that Drew from the Civil Rights Movement to Fight Discrimination - History Wider information - Stonewall. Carter. Fader Quote - Stonewall. Carter - from wikipedia Additional Reading: JSTOR - The Stonewall Riots didn't start the Gay Rights Movement Time - 'The Beginning of a Conversation': What It Was Like to Be an LGBTQ Activist Before Stonewall Library of Congress - LGBTQIA+ Studies: A Resource Guide