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cyberphuck · 1 year

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ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PRELUDE

My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about the Farseer Trilogy, but doesn't want to actually have to read the books, so I'm summarizing them for them (and you)!

Read previous entries

LAST TIME, ON DRAGON BOOK Z: Fitz is a bastard who knows telepathy and talks to animals. He's taught to be an assassin, then goes up to the mountains on a mission and completely fails at it. His uncle tries to kill him. His OTHER uncle gets married.

CAST OF CHARACTERS (holy shit there are so many characters in this book)

THE FARSEERS

Six Duchies royal family, of which several members are now dead. This will include Farseers-by-Marriage (Dead or head-exploded characters will have their own category).

FitzChivalry Farseer: The POV character, Prince Chivalry's bastard. Loyal as a K-Pop stan who still has a BTS McNugget meal preserved in their freezer. He possesses both the Skill (Professor X telepathy) and the Wit (Dr. Doolittle animal chats).

Prince Verity: Currently King-in-Waiting, a lifelong second-in-command who was suddenly thrust into a leadership role when his older brother fucked off to be assassinated. Recently married, super strong in the Skill, does not ask for consent before mind-molesting Fitz.

Queen Kettricken: Recently married to Verity, she came all the way from the Mountain Kingdom to clean up Buckkeep and be miserable because she's used to doing Crossfit in the snow and now she has to sit and pretend to laugh at other people's jokes.

Prince Regal: The sneaky, moustache-twirling evil younger half brother of Verity. He killed like four people at Verity's wedding and tried to murder Fitz with a hot tub, and they just sort of let him get away with it.

King Shrewd: The current king, currently pretty old and afflicted with some kind of wasting disease. Fitz is technically bound to him by a pact he made as a child, but they both kind of ignore that most of the time.

Chade: King Shrewd’s older half-brother on the wrong side of the sheets. An assassin. Lives in the walls. Has a weasel. Came out of the wall into Fitz's room and taught him how to be an assassin. Sort of a father figure, but the kind that yells at you to hold the flashlight steady while he works on the car.

Patience: Chivalry’s widow. Helicopter-parents Fitz whenever he comes within fifteen feet of her. The ADHD champion of the Six ooh is that a book on rare ferns?

NOBLES

Duke Brawndy: Duke of Ripplekeep, a pretty stand-up dude. Father to Celerity and member of the Fitz Fan Club.

Lady Celerity: Has a big ol' fourteen-year-old crush on handsome, virile Fitz. She's pretty okay for someone who was named after a vegetable you put peanut butter on.

Duke Kelvar: Remember him? He finally manned his fucking watchtowers at Neatbay. Fitz fanclub member. Husband to Lady Grace, his young hotness wife whose dog Fitz pulled a fish bone out of.

CASTLE AND STABLE FOLK

Burrich: Fitz's primary father figure, the kind that takes you to football games and Hooters to try to flush the Gay out of you. Stablemaster of Buckkeep, and also has the Wit. Used to be heterosexual life partners with Prince Chivalry. Took several blows to the head last book and seems to be okay.

Hands: Fitz's stablehand friend. He's been relegated to background character.

Lacy: Patience’s serving woman and bestie. Makes lace, nods indulgently and will stab you.

The Fool: Albino freak-teenager with a special interest in cryptids and making up rhymes about farting. King Shrewd's jester.

Justin: Part of the Skill Coterie. Hangs out with Serene most of the time, card-carrying member of the Fitz Sucks and Smells Bad club.

Serene: The only female member of the Skill Coterie. Treasurer of the Fitz Sucks and Smells Bad club.

Carrod: Local fop and member of the Skill Coterie. In this book he mostly sneers at Fitz and says cringe things while everyone else is trying to work.

Burl: Part of the Skill Coterie... is Burl even in this book? I can't remember. Less dumb than you think he is.

Will: Part of the Skill Coterie. Hangs out in shadows and stares fixedly at people.

Molly Chandler: A candlemaker and servant who wants to go back to being a candlemaker. Girlboss. Fitz would buy her bathwater.

Rosemary: Kettricken's page. She's just a little girl. So cute. What's she doing? Oh, she's coloring. Aww.

Wallace: King Shrewd's servant and sometimes healer. One time the Fool calls him Wall's-ass.

Bolt: A guardsman who shows up at the end of the book to punch Fitz repeatedly in the face. I only mention him here because he shows up in the next book as well.

Blade: An older guardsman, Fitz fanclub member.

ANIMALS:

Cub/Nighteyes: A wolf soul-bonded to Fitz. Talks in italics. Possesses the single braincell out of everyone in the entire series.

Sooty: Fitz’s horse. Best mare, perfect cinnamon roll and can do no wrong.

Vixen: Burrich’s dog. Good dog.

Slink: A weasel belonging to Chade.

OTHER NOTABLES:

The Red Ship Raiders: Mongolian Vikings who have been Viking their merry way up and down the coast, burninating villages and kidnapping people to be Forged.

Forged people: Zombies. It's a tiny bit more complicated than that, but you don't find that out for another like, six books, so: they're zombies.

Lady Thyme: A horrible old woman who is really Chade in disguise. The Elderlings: Who are they? What are they? No one knows.

DEAD PEOPLE:

Chivalry: Dead from probably assassination.

Queen Desire: Regal's mom, dead from drug use but Regal THINKS it was assassination.

Rurisk: Dead from poisoning by Regal.

Cobb: Dead from stab by Fitz.

Galen: Dead from Skill-explosion by Verity.

August: Okay he's not DEAD, but Verity Skill-megaphoned him and he went to live on a farm upstate.

Smithy: Went back to his home planet after Cobb hugged him and told him he was a good boy.

Nosy: Went back to his home planet after saving Fitz from dying in a hot tub.

MAGICS (I know magic is not a character, but they do have to be explained somewhere)

The Wit: The ability to “bond” with certain animals and speak with them, as well as sense life force and to do a kind of mental shove at people. You tend to act a little like the animal you’ve bonded to. Witted people are considered gross and animalistic and are run out of town or put to death.

The Skill: Telepathy. Considered the “birthright” of the Farseers. Most people can sense it at least a little, but it takes inborn talent and a lot of careful training to do anything useful with it. Skilling apparently feels awesome but if you give in to the temptation to fully open yourself to it you can get sucked out of your own brain.

NEXT TIME: Part one of Royal Assassin Abridged!

#rote #Fitzchivalry Farseer #robin hobb #ra abridged

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

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Omg thank you!

Can the fandom either be Overwatch or spy x family (I don't mind either)

I'ma trans man, I'm into guys only

Uh I'm around 5'1, I have short wavy fluffy black hair. I have gray eyes. I'm also pale as a ghost with heavy freckles

Everyone says when the first met me that I sounded Cocky,mean and sarcastic but when they really meet me for me. They told me I was nervous, kind, funny and extremely loyal

I'm usually seen in a hoodie and tight jeans/ leggings. If I'm not then it's a special occasion (like a wedding or a date).

I have a heavy Australian accent, which people find it hard to understand at times. Though to fuck with people I'll switch to a heavy British or German accent.

I'm a trickster when the time is right, though usually I'm pretty chill.

I have a lucky red neck scarf I wear around.

I hate social situations and will shut everything down if things get to heavy for me. I have two giant saint Bernard doggos to help me though.

I love horror movies and this Halloween I plan to go as Bubba Sawyer from Texas chainsaw

I get nervous easily but I joke or try to intimidate to hide it.

I have a pet snake named Iguro, he's an albino I rescued from this farm.

____ let me know if you need anything else!!!___

My dream date-

I kinda like just going around town just enjoying the air and how nice it is outside. Maybe stopping by the gas station to get a snack then go to the park and run around with my dogs 😭

👾

notes 💌: hey hey! welcome to day 3 of my valentine's day event <333 i am so glad i get to do a matchup for you <3 thank you so much for all of your kindness lately and just overall supporting me through my writing journey! happy valentines day 👾 anon i hope you have a great one :)

THE CHARACTER CUPID CHOOSES FOR YOU THIS VALENTINE’S DAY IS…

JUNKRAT!!

okay, junkrat is my personal favorite character in overwatch, but not a lot of people's, so I really hope that you love him too lol

he's my scrunkly meow meow and now i hand him over to you love

this man will spend way too much time trying to count your freckles

he always restarts btw and you just giggle about it

he really wants to know how many you have, but he can never actually count all of them unfortunately

he would 100% play with your hair

he just loves how fluffy it is

at first, he actually didnt think you were mean

he's kind of oblivious when someone is mean to him, but he never thought you were

he does think you're really funny and kind and is just head over heels for you tbh

he loves that you are loyal too because he can get a lil jealous lol

he thinks your simple outfits are cozy and make it really easy to cuddle in <3

but when you dress up oh boy he is just baffled with his mouth gaping open and a little smile appears before he tells you how amazing you look

he's also casual with his outfits, so neither of you feel pressured to dress up for each other

YOU BOTH HAVE A CRAZY HEAVY AUSTRALIAN ACCENT SO YOU TWO ONLY UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER WHEN YOU GET TO YELLING LMFAKJFEIJIFOJRI

you two will just be yelling in your accents at each other and when you flip accents he starts laughing his ass off to the point where he cant breathe lmfaooo

you and him will be lil tricksters and it's lovely

but you two often just chill together and it's adorable

he loves your lucky red scarf. he'll bury his nose in it because it smells like you and he just loves that you have it

he will 100% help you out when you need it. he is you #1 supporter, so go to him if you have a problem. and if you need him to leave you alone, after a bit of asking, and trying to help, he will leave you alone when you need it

he loves your dogs omg

you'll find him cuddling them on the couch and just playing with them

i feel like he could get down with horror movies, but not alone, he needs you there because he gets too scared lmaooo

dont be nervous around him! he's just a goofy guy and pretty easy to joke around with

OMG HE'S OBSESSED WITH YOUR SNAKE

he will just talk to it and stare at it because he loves it so darn much

he is the funniest goofiest lil guy, but he's yours so show him a lot of love <33333

💌 HOW WOULD HE ASK YOU TO BE HIS VALENTINE??

he would throw a pillow at you full speed that says "will you be my valentine" that has a secret pocket full of your favorite snacks and you would look up to find him with a stupid lil smile. "be my valentine?"

💌 VALENTINE’S DAY DATE

You two spent the entirety of Valentine's day just walking around your town. You stopped at fun shops, played with wildlife, and even just found fun little places to chill. You two were joking for what felt like hours and just spending the full day together. He even bought you fun little valentine's gifts, which made you giggle seeing how cheesy you were. As the sun was going down, Jamison pulled you into a gas station where you two got some junkfood and just talked for a while in the little parking lot. "Can I come over to your place?" He asked, shoving a hot dog into his mouth. "I wanna play with your dogs." "I would love that!" You smiled, placing a kiss onto Jamie's face. "My dogs love you, so I think they would be very happy to have you over." Jamie beamed at you and threw his arms around you. "And I want to stay and cuddle if that's okay." "That's perfect." You jumped up and grabbed Junkrat's hand, leading him back home. The moment you opened the door, the dogs jumped onto Jamie and you, placing kisses all over both of your faces. You grabbed their favorite toy and led everyone to the backyard where you played with your dogs until all of you were exhausted. When you walked back in the house, all of you fell onto the couch in each other's arms. You used your giant dogs as pillows and Junkrat had his arms wrapped around you as he lightly snored, already falling asleep. "Happy Valentine's Day." You whispered, placing a kiss onto his nose. <3

~~~~~

mystery date rules | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

#mystery date #matchup #matchups #👾 anon #overwatch #overwatch x reader #junkrat #junkrat x reader #writing #my writing #valentines day event

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starcrossedyanderes · 2 years

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Ghost Files: The Clementine Estate

Note from Star: Let it be known that this is proof of my blog still being active. I actually started this post about a year ago when Buzzfeed Unsolved ended. But we’re way past that so I decided to make it Ghost Files and a Halloween special. I tried really hard to nail the dialogue and I haven’t quite written this way before so bare with me. I also originally wrote this with Buzzfeed unsolved in mind and just made it Ghost files post edit. So sorry if stuff doesn’t sound quite right. Also this is kind of long so you have been warned.

“Welcome to Ghost Files, where we take your evidence, and our tools, into the field to prove the supernatural. My partner, a skeptic. Myself, a believer. Both of us truthseekers. Today we are investigating the Clementine estate where supposed ghosts reside.

“Ooh, I like that name. Nice and fruity.

“Shut up.

Now this case is an interesting one for many reasons, but most notably for the televised evidence provided.”

“Oh yeah, wasn’t there like that home renovation show about it? It wasn’t something called “a spooky house renovation” or something?”

“Precisely. While renovating the home many cases of ghost activity were recorded.”

“Didn’t the couple who host that show like immediately divorce?”

“Yes, but I don’t think that’s ghost related. Now here is where the story gets more interesting.

There was originally 2 ghosts reported but then one of them seemingly disappeared for over a century. But shortly after the show concluded this ghost seemingly reappeared.”

“That sounds kinda bogus to me. Just like, ‘yeah I’m gonna take a break for a while. Just tired of haunting. Might just go on a vacay to wherever ghosts go.”

“Okay, and cut.”

Shane takes a quick sig of water as Ryan stands up to stretch. After a minute of hearing popping from Ryan he trods over to grab a bag.

“Now the fun part. Taking a plane to Mississippi.”

~|~

“As all of our investigation goes we will work our way up the house floor by floor and then do our independent investigations. But today we’re starting off outside since this is a supposed haunted area.”

They stood in front of a large manor’s entrance. A massive pair of mahogany doors looked behind them.

“Now before we start the investigation, some information must be provided. The story begins in 1800’s Mississippi with the Clementine family. The Clementines are a wealthy family who own various textile companies along with other corporations. Another thing of note is that the South is currently being teared apart by slavery, especially in Mississippi. The Clementines happened to be abolitionists and seemed to have quite a few enemies.”

“Hmm, I’m smelling murder.”

“We’ll get to that later.”

“Now the Clementine household unfortunately came down with Tuberculosis which killed all but one of the members. This happened to shockingly be Emmett, the immunodeficient, albino heir.”

“Well that sucks.”

“After his parents death Emmett continued in his parents path to continue abolotionism and decided to keep his parents wish about marrying.

You see, Emmett had a little sweetheart he was courting.”

“Ooh, a little something on the side.”

“No, actually. He was a one woman fella as it turns out.

Emmet and his darling made plans to be wed and seemed to be genuinely in love until tragedy struck.

The two met up on the eve of their wedding, where they were killed.

Apparently Emmett had upset some pro-slavery Southerns who decided it best to kill him. The bodies were found on top of each other, both stabbed in the heart. Emmet’s face was contorted into shock, showing he was the one who spotted the killer.”

“Jeez! Kill them literally before they were married. Couldn’t wait another day?”

“I don’t know. But as the houses switched owners the reports started coming in.”

“Now we are standing in the front grounds on the Clementine estate and I have to say, it is rather gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah, these are some sweet digs. Despite the whole ‘haunting’ thing they really managed to keep up good landscaping.”

“In front of us is the front entrance that is covered by a large balcony. It is on this balcolny many have reported seeing a ghostly female in a wedding dress.”

They looked on silently for a small time.

“Whelp, I don’t see anything.”

“You have to admit, this is like a prime looking down at your people balcony. Like, uh, what was that musical called?”

“Evita?”

“Yes! They didn’t have slaves but I’m sure they like, waved down at their servants or something.”

They stepped through the entrance as the front doors shut behind them.

“Here we have a foyer sort of room. Very Vanderbilt-esque. Like I can totally see a big Christmas tree here.”

Shane stepped in further and pointed at the large portrait that sat between the two grand staricases.

“Ooh, we got the big man right here! And his little sweetheart, too.”

On the painting sat a relatively young adult male with somewhat long white hair. But most noticeably was his striking blue eyes. Sitting next to him was a somewhat plump woman with nice (h/c) and (e/c) eyes. She wore a pink dress that some would now call a ‘lolita’ style.

“Aw, she’s kinda cute.”

“It is with this sweetheart of his that the story gets weird.”

“A lot of evidence of this haunting is rather recent with the show “Clementine Renovation” being filmed. The show followed a team restoring the house that would be given away. But the cameras picked up various hauntings and tragedy sadly struck.”

“What sort of ‘evidence’ are we talking here? Random voice or like an actual figure.”

“Well they caught footage of a chandelier randomly falling on someone, items floating in the air, and people suddenly acting differntly, as if possessed.”

“Hold up, let’s talk about this whole chandelier falling on a person.”

“While filming a cameraman had a chandelier, that was perfectly secure, spontaneously fall on him. It ended up killing him but other tragedies occured as well.”

They both looked up to the ceiling, where a sparkling chandelier hangs down. They both silently walk out from under it.

“Well Ryan, I think this is as good as a place as any.”

Ryan heaved a sigh before pressing a button.

“Here we have the ovilus. A device that takes various changes in temperature and other factors. Then converts them into words from the English dictionary.”

“Hey ghosts, I’m Shane and this is my friend Ryan. Can I ask who we’re talking to?”

A word appeared on the monitor.

“Orange.”

Both of the men stepped back in shock.

“Orange? Maybe they’re trying to say Clementine?

Is this the ghost of the man who died from a chandelier?”

More words appeared.

“No. Scum.”

A laugh was heard from Shane.

“Are you saying we’re scum? Have to say I don’t appreciated being called that.”

No more responses came in.

“Look if you have a problem with us go ahead and say something. What? Cat got your tounge.”

No response.

“Alright Shane, let’s put this up.”

~|~

The two men currently stood in a large hallway, with their goofy looking gear on.

“Alright, no we are in one of the hallways where more activity has been reported. When the television series was being recorded there were multiple reports of hearing piano music.”

Ryan placed a teddy bear looking thing down.

“Well, that could be explained. Multiple people were in the house at the time. Maybe someone was playing music. I know I like to work with music on. Or maybe someone wanted to test out the piano.” “That is a fair point, but I think we should check it out anyway.”

The merely stood in silence, with an occasional interruption by a pre-recorded voice coming from the plushie.

“Well, I certainly don’t hear anything.”

“Yeah, let’s try the REM Pod. The REM Pod is a device that can detect presences and changes in temperature. The more extreme, the louder the noise. There are also lights that can be turned on.

We also have our Boo Buddy friend over there. It will just say pre-recorded things that hopefully will get a response from some entity. We are hoping for some success since Emmett’s fiancé supposedly liked cutsie things.

A few minutes of non-activity lasted before they walked into an adjoining room.

~|~

“Here we are in the ballroom, the most active room. It is here we reach the most interesting part of the story.” “There’s more?” “Unfortuanelty there is one more tragedy to tell. As mentioned before this house was renovated to give away in a sweepstake. This just happened to go to an intern on the show, (Y/n) (L/n). And yes, that is not a mistake. She shares the same name as Emmett Clementine’s late fiance. To make matters freakier they look eerily similar. It was in this ballroom that (Y/n) was found dead, stabbed in the heart with a piece of glass. Her body was found adorned in a wedding dress.”

“Dang. Now I have to admit Ryan, of all the stories you’ve told this is by far the creepiest and weirdest to date.”

“I would also nice like to discuss why we are visiting in the daytime. Our investigations tend to be held at night but this house is reportedly more active during the day.”

“Gotta admit, it’s very beautiful. There’s even the expansive gardens to explore later.”

“Well, this feels like a good room to bring out the SLS camera. The SLS can detect heat signatures.”

They pulled out a camera monitor and looked shocked at what they saw.

On the monitor showed 2 silhouettes of what looked like 2 people, dancing.

“Woah, okay that’s new. Hey ghosts? Were one of you who we talked to earlier.”

The figures merely ignored them.

“Hey ghouls! My friend asked you a question. You know I bet it is one of them since they still seem rude. Ignoring us and all.”

“Are you two the Clementine couple?”

Still no response.

“Shane, do your whole riling up thing.”

“Hey Emmett, why don’t you respond to us? Or are you two chicken? You know what, if you don’t do something, I’m taking your girl. Yeah, that’s right. She’s mine now. Whatchu gonna do about it, huh?”

Apparently Emmett was going to do something about it.

In front of them slowly appeared 2 nearly transparent forms. One of a male with white hair and blue eyes, clutching onto a woman with h/c and e/c.

“Holy crap I think I just peed myself-”

The male wore more old timey clothes while the female merely wore some jeans and a shirt.

“LEAVE.”

The lightbulbs in the room proceeded to flicker, with some completely exploding. The investigators quickly headed the ghost’s warning as they went running. It was as the doors slammed shut did Emmett stop giving chase.

“Emmett, you just had to scare them off, didn’t you? I happen to enjoy company, you know.”

The male quickly approached the female and practically clung onto her.

“I-I know pumpkin, it’s just, that man. He was threating to take you from me. You know I can’t have that. We don’t need more people constantly pestering us like that.” “Emmett, you literally killed me. I don’t think there is a way to take me away from you.”

As the two investigators entered the van’s safety Shane finally turned to Ryan.

“I think ghost might be real.”

#yandere #starcrossedyanderes #ghostfiles #halloween #yandere ghost #emmett #romance #ghost

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brandonwaratah01 · 2 years

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🍷 Hello h e y hi 💋

“The Wedding of France and Coral”

“The architectural design of the Church was built with a convertible roof where albino peacocks appear on the premises. Water fountains and warm sunlight shine on the inside interior. Beautiful historic sculptures and Hyperrealism oil paintings create a spiritual foundation for their faith.

Boy walks side by side with Girl towards the bride and groom. Rose petals thrown onto the red carpet. Reflective rings with a diamond. Music is performed at this special occasion. A musical band of violinist, pianist and vocalist playing every note and pitch in harmony and in such accuracy making attendees amazed at their performance.

Magenta and Violetta shed a tear each out of joy and overreact in an immature manner whilst laughing. This happened before the Wedding started. They are such lovely drama queens.

France and Coral stand together with their loved ones staring at them. France exhales deeply to remove any nervous tension and Coral cries a tear out of joyous emotion.

Grandma and Grandpa wave at the Priest as they are seated near the front. The Priest nods his head in response to their wave. Brandon sits with the elderly couple to keep them company and to explain and answer any concerns that are worrying them.

Vietnamese Uncle and Auntie take selfies before the Wedding start and video call their friends from overseas. They love to socialise and make use of their time wisely.

Babe and Poshy Barbie compliment each other by stating the kindest comments with out hurting each other’s feelings. Love you babe. Kiss, kiss. Mwah! They state to each other. Everyone sitting beside them stare in disbelief because their language is so new to the whole bunch.

Bloke and Built Dude photograph their partners in utter immaturity right before the bride and groom meet. Sharing photos that are inappropriate giving a glimpse to their partners in increased inappropriateness. They complain and try to delete the image to save their reputation.

The Italian couple and their extroverted daughter record their daughter cheer very loudly as they all exit the church. Ouch, my ears they all state at the deafening vocal. Oops, sorry.

Mocha is in alert mode and paying attention to the bride, Coral. “What do you need?” “A cup of water please. This spring / summer weather is getting to me.” Whilst fanning herself with an asian fan.

Nicholas and Franchesca sit at the back and attend the wedding to show their respect and support. No dramas, no problems and no incidents occurred.

Rice, petals and bubbles are thrown and blown into the air by everyone at the smiling bride and groom. They are definitely ready to spend their life together!

(Everyone prepares for dinner. To be continued. . .)”

#ArtBrushesCreate #BrandonvpNguyen #CreativeLiterature

- B r a n d o n v.p N g u y e n -

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idvfanposts · 3 years

Note

Andrew x transmale!s/o 😈

~ Andrew x Transmale!lover ~

Babe how did u know I crave transmale hcs!!!

Alright, let's get writing *rubs grubby hands together*

~ Coming out ~

during your time in the manor, the more you spoke and hung around others the closer you got to everyone, but the closest you got to was the well built albino male, Andrew Kriess.

when you finally got the courage to admit these feelings you had suppressed for a long time, you gathered everyone, wanting to tell everyone all at once. Hopefully the more accepting of the group would help tune out the less accepting. Of course it went... mixed, some not caring, others thinking its absolutely blasphemy, and the more accepting being willing to help you adjust, but if there was one sure as hell thing, its that Andrew would support you no matter what.

Of course he was a little shocked, and a bit hurt you didn't tell him beforehand, later he would pull you aside, ask if you need help choosing a name or getting masculine clothes that would suit you. And if anyone dared to misgender you, he would loom over them like a shadow, even going as far as to not rescue people who misgender you mid match

Your special to him, one of the only others who showed him compassion and didn't push him away for the way he looked, so he would destroy the world for you. Although unsure how to feel himself, he would be a little conflicted, unsure if he's gay or, straight. Stuff he would bottle up until it exploded and you helped him understand a bit more

☆ wholesome headcanons ☆

- bad case of dysphoria? He would hold you, and remind you how handsome of a man you are.

- if you ever got hurt from binding he wouldn't hesitate to scold you for not being careful, but despite his tough front he truly cares and just hates seeing you hurt

- he is inherently overprotective of the people he cares about, if he heard the hunter was near you in a match, he would follow around, even sweeping in to bodyblock, even if your full health.

- despite hating violence, he understands how intimidating he looks to strangers, and is willing to use that to his advantage to scare others into respecting your name and pronouns

- sometimes he would let you wear his clothes, smiling as you would cuddle into the coat, enjoying his scent left on the fabric.

- if you where gone, he would find clothes you wore, and cuddle with them until you were back

- Andrew is a sentimental person, he would keep your old clothes, and maybe even find ways to hand tailor them into a more masculine look for you, if you didn't like it, that was ok, he would keep it for himself. So when he was lonely he would cuddle your old clothes, thinking about cuddling you...

- hes been caught wearing some of your shirts under his coat, not that you'd care, its cute when he gets all flustered because you pointed it out, but he gets extremely angry and storms off if its in public

- hes shy about his affection, and only returns it when you two are alone, sometimes you'd have to pull him into a locker mid match just to give him a kiss and tell him how well hes doing during the match

- he has a deep voice, and feels bad when you visibly get jealous at it, he would help to the best of his ability so you can sound more masculine

- when you get your period, he would help you feel as comfortable as possible, getting you food, and even replacing you in matches with himself if your forced to match while your on it

♡ NSFW trans s/o time ♡

- Andrew is very vanilla, he would hold you, run his slender somewhat bony fingers along your soft skin, any defects like stretch marks or scars he would run his thumb along or, kiss gently. Cuddling you and holding you, fondling every inch of your godly body.

- he hates it when you try to fuck with your binder on because it hurts you and that makes him upset.

- Andrew would practically worship you in bed, making sure everything he does pleasures you, putting himself over you in bed. Kissing your skin and asking what he's doing is pleasuring you, or if he would change. If you wince or whimper he would apologize, kissing your neck and cheek from behind

- hes probably packing, a little above average. Wanting to take it slow with you though it would be long into the relationship before you got too intimate and any penitration happened, he is Christian, but not heavily Christian. Maybe before anything too intimate happened you could have a secret wedding at red church, honeymoon in Andrew's room after the match ;)

- he loves it when after some fun you lay on his chest, he will trace circles on your back and hold you close sometimes teasing you by tracing marks he left

- he hates sex under a blanket, its too claustrophobic for him, the bed would have to be free of anything getting in the way. So if your bed is rid of his blankets, he will easily take the hint, same for you with his bed aswell...

- he always asks to do things, asking if he can hold your hand or, kiss you gently, especially in public, he would whisper it with his low voice into your ear, unaware of how arousing it could be...

- if you start to have bottom dysphoria he would let you do anything to help soothe it, although, probably got scared at the concept of pegging..

- if and once he would warm up to bottoming for once, he would enjoy it overtime, doing it for you anytime you ask. Although he's generally more wholesome, so any nsfw is more rare, when it does happen though its always the best night to ever happen

#identity v #idv #idv grave keeper #andrew kreiss #character x reader #trans reader #trans male #lgbt #lgbt representation #andrew is a big scary bisexual and he should kiss me #god i love idv #i hope my irls dont find this #tobie if you see this no you dont #i hate you

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

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Pretty new plumage for the cute young couple: Artemis(crimson), and Matcha(white), in the royal raven kingdom nest.

Tale 11: Artemis Craweleoth & The Griminthrope (chapter 5 - Beloved Princess 5/5) part 3. Stories of Fey

none

A year after Artemis and Matcha decided to tour magic forests, Morgen as hosting all his and Emilia’s children, and new grandchildren, on the gate. All except Artemis. Their other children had all flown the coop, and become accomplished mages; but not above having family reunions. They all took comfort in the knowing that Artemis was happy, in the shadow veil or some magic forest somewhere. It had been months since Matcha and Artemis were last spotted, but they did visit everyone individually on ocassion. But not this harvest gathering. Cadence, the eldest, insisted that no one go look for their littlest sister so late; unlike Calliope, the second eldest, who sided with Patrick. They missed their youngest sister, wanted to invite her. But Cadence was right; it was well in the evening, and everyone was too tired to hunt Artemis down. But as Cadence woke at dawn, to feed the stag fey with her children, she noticed something; silence.

At first, Cadence ignored the quiet; but then Calliope and her wife noticed, and then Patrick and his girlfriend noticed. Where was the morning calls of cockatrice at dawn? The two of albino peacock phoenixes that bickered all their childhoods? The song of the orphan birds, or metallic flap of Stymphalians. Not even gryphons perched along the edge of the tower. The Sibling’s curiously looked around, and then got their father and mother to check as well. All the raven children were missing. Morgan, being Mage of Tiberius gate, could feel all the fey and people on it, but accounting for an entire kingdom of fey was beyond his scope. Tiberius gate was too dense with fey to sort. Morgan sent his familiar Icarus to help search from above. Even with teamwork, the two couldn’t sense any raven children. Each fey they asked, noticed their plumaged mythical cousins were missing, yet had no idea why this was. Many said the raven fey had vanished during the night. Tiberius Gate was a sanctuary, inhabited only by the king mage, his family, and fey. If there were no children of the raven king here, there weren’t anywhere. This had happened before; when Morgan was King mage and in school. All the wolf children vanished, and almost claimed his enfeyed best friend. The propect of one tenth of all magic disappearing, terrified him.

Morgen feared the worst: The Raven King may have been killed. Such a good friend since they met: going for karaoke and flipping TV channels. The Raven King was always good for a laugh, and giving an unhelpful yet whimsical perspective. Morgan’s greif of the loss of fey and magic quickly became overshadowed by the fear for his raven brother’s life. He was experiencing a special kind of tragedy all over again. As much as Emilia and his children comforted Morgan, they would never understand that the death of a beast king, to the King Mage, is like the loss of a sibling. Flustered, Morgan ran to the Raven Door with his children, only to find a twelve-year-old girl, weeping on beneath a tree, when they entered the shadow veil. She had no colour, except her icy eyes; she was human mage. She looked like a princess, dressed as old Anglian nobility. Her dress was black crushed velvet, with feather ruff; Fairy robes like mage Queen Meriam Craweleoth of the Grand West. Like she was from a time when Tiberius made the gate. The sobbing girl was dirty, worn, and grey. Morgan knelt to her.

“Are you ok? Raven Queen Odette? You wear your mother’s fairy robes.” Morgan said calmly.

“My husband and children are dead. Their song silent, and my true love, all lost. I do not care that I am no longer immortal, cannot fly, or have returned to being a human girl; I weep for my children and husband, I weep, for I no longer want to sing or live without them,” Odette responded in tears. “All I have is my name; I have been Raven Queen here for so long, it is all I know. The veil takes your memories, as the surrounding magic does not know time. But enough of me; I need to aid Artemis and the new Raven King. They may need help adjusting to their new roles, but I can’t move myself to do anything but cry for my late husband.” She sobbed. Everyone was speechless. As if they had heard a eulogy. Morgan’s children could not comfort Odette; for no one but him, had been able to read Meriam’s journals about her daughter’s mortal life. Morgan knew the story well, and it reminded him of his own daughter, Artemis.

Long ago, the now widowed Raven Queen was a princess kept in her father’s palace. There were talks of wedding her off in the name of peace. She was the only heir of the Great West of Anglia. Odette’s future was to be decided by lordly men. Even if her mother, the mage queen, protested. Odette stood gracefully in her finery at the edge of the courtyard pools, watching the birds. Princess Odette Craweleoth was her full name. She always wore soft blues, and had pale hair and icy eyes; she had magic move through her, at a very young age. Thus, changing her colours to that of a swan. Odette starred into the skies yearning to fly, and be as elegant as one of the birds she watched. Yearning to be a charmer of the Raven Gate in the Capitol instead, of its princess. Her mother, Meriam Craweleoth, sadly watched her only child resent her circumstances; like she once did.

Meriam, knowing the ways of magic, had figured out that her princess was a mage. In these olden times, mages were the only people who could use magic. Therefore, mages were used as weapons, if not exterminated; and Odette was oblivious to this fact. She only knew about a royal existence inside a palace. Odette was a girl who only wanted to love and live, and was innocently unaware of the trial of life. This resulted in Odette, not yet a fully grown lady, feeling no shame in indulging in the impossible. Meriam covered any tracks of her daughter and nephew finding joy in magical ways, least the people who call themselves wizard’s protest. More importantly, she wanted them to have their youthful pure wonder, a little longer.

Meriam dared to defy her values, and lie to her king husband; and withhold her knowledge of the fine large raven adorned in treasure. The Raven King visited the balconies uncomfortably often. Odette had grown to love and had befriended him. It was sweet, and heartwarming. Odette and the Raven King talked when he visited each night; bringing her shiny junk, and telling her jokes, as she complimented him and confessed her woes of having no choice in her future. The Raven King then revealed his more human face, to confess that he loved her so much, that if she requited his love, they could fly off together. Odette could be his beautiful swan. thrilled by his offer, she agreed and kissed him, becoming enfeyed with his magic as a beast queen. She loved him back. At last, she determined her fate, and could fly.

Queen Meriam did not see her daughter, the princess, fly off with the Raven King. but knew and said nothing; her little girl would be safe, and live long and happy in the shadow veil. But common men would not understand such things. By the time the guards, and Odette’s father, arrived to her chambers, she had gone without a trace. Meriam now guarded the Raven Gate she had made, for her daughter’s sake. Anything to keep her only child safe, and meet her raven grandchildren. And Meriam died in her age guarding it from her people. People who had been given tools to wield magic, and wished to eliminate magery form the world.

All Odette could recall of this, is once being a princess, the birds she watched, and wanting to be herself. It felt like it was only a dream. Odette had forgotten the name of her kingdom, and the faces of her human family. The people who loved her centuries ago. Odette was raven queen no more, but still felt a mother to the bird fey. She, in her emptiness, wished to help Artemis and her remaining royal children, the richen raven and griminthropes, which were now presumably human mages somewhere. Odette wanted to help her daughter in law be the queen she once was. To protect what remained of what she loved most. It was all she had to fill a hole, where love once was.

Morgan was struck with sadness as well. He was close to the Raven King, who was quite the beloved personality among all the beast kings and mages. No doubt the other beast Kings and Queens would grieve him too. The King’s of fey were like the only siblings Morgan and Emilia ever had. They were like aunts and uncles to their four children. Everyone felt cold and empty; as nostalgia reared from pleasant to bitter. There was no more innocent prankster, funny hat wearer, bad dancing crackly singer. The Raven King sung badly purposefully, because his real voice was so beautiful it caused any living thing that heard it to die. The first Raven King was terrifying and glories, in all his majesty. As pure magic should be. Even if The Raven King was made only of magic itself, he felt like a physical person. He was as old as the world itself, and had met his eventual end. Infinity always has eventually. Even though he lived so long, it felt so short. The Raven King was now just a story in books of magic. In his stead, Matcha would now have to be all of these things.

Suddenly it dawned on Morgan, Emilia and their children. Where is Artemis and Matcha? Are they alive and the new king and queen of the raven kingdom as Odette said? Patrick approached Odette firmly, and requested the widowed queen to take them deep in the forest; to the secret nest. The giant raven nest that was forbidden to anyone but the Raven King, Queen and any newborn heirs. The Raven King had decorated an orchard of trees in dazzling gems, armor, jewelry and ornaments in the most spectacular way. Centuries of careful tweaking and crafting; It was art. It was what inspired Matcha to bead and decorate. The nest sat upon the largest tree in the circular orchard. It was made of felt, down, straw and twigs. As Odette lead the concerned family into the clearing, they saw a large four-winged crimson bird with a skulled head in the nest. Perched above her, another large snow-white raven with Icey eyes, that was adorned handsomely with jewelry about his neck and talons. It was like Odette and the Raven King were still there. The family cautiously approached behind Odette; her face still wet from tears. She pointed to the massive birds, which turned to look at them.

“Mother?” the new Raven King said in a familiar voice. He swooped down into his human form, revealing himself. It was Matcha, and he looked exactly like his father had; taller and with more dazzling feathers, and a crown. Except his eyes, which were his mothers. He waved to the visiting mages with a wide smile. Even as King, Matcha was himself.

“My condolences of your father. All the folk of magic will miss your little siblings, and the gifts he gave to us,” said Patrick “but where is my sister Artemis?” He asked. The red bird ruffled and turned into her human form; It was Artemis peering over the edge of the nest down at them. Everyone’s faces lit up to see her in good health. She had gone white and scarlet, just as Odette had when she became queen. Her collar and trims sparkled, and she wore a clear robe, like a veil embroidered with glittering feathers. The regal plume of feathers around her neck was as soft as clouds. Artemis was nearly unrecognizable. Her trademark autumn blacks of her eyes, hair, and clothes were now a regal white and blood red. Artemis jumped down, and landed before her family, surprising them a little. Even as Raven Queen, she was still herself.

“Told you I would never leave him Patrick.” Artemis said, smirking. Then her expression faded to sorrow. “The Raven King was murdered upon trying to rescue a flock of his captured daughters. The wizards must have been so scared to see him, that they lashed out on instinct like trolls. the beast kings can be verry shocking when you first meet one; as they are so big and all. He must have let his guard down because mages have returned, and have been keeping fey safe. I for one, did not know a beast king could die. I thought they may retire by choice, or turn human or something…” Artemis said. She was hugging Patrick, and melting into the fur of his coat. “I will miss him. He named me, and has been an accepting uncle all my life. Now I am Raven Queen, and I do not know how to be a step mother to an entire kingdom of fey. My husband will have to recreate his father’s work to restore balance. It’s a lot, and it’s not fair. I fear that, along the way, I will also forget you.” Artemis cried. Odette gently clasped Artemis’s hand, and looked away.

“I want to help, and stay, but I also need to find my royal children. They will have survived, and are now mages running amok; they must be confused to be human. Similar to Wolf Queen Flowen’s royal children, if I recall. I am no longer enfyed, and will age now; my time is precious. I will do my best to help you be a good queen and mother to the raven kingdom. Our kingdom. I think we are all happy to see you both are well.” Odette said coldly. The family stood in the clearing of trees, decorated like a festive ballroom, as they stayed silent in memory of a lost friend, father, leader, and husband. Morgan ran up to Artemis, pulling her away from Patrick to embrace her.

“I and your family, can visit. As King Mage I come often; If the new king sees me worthy of being a brother, and gives me back the kingdom stone.” Morgan whispered. Matcha pulled a palm sized rock with the raven kingdoms rune on it. He smiled and put it in Morgan’s pocket, like it was another Tuesday.

“You look beautiful. This must be how Queen Meriam felt when Odette, her daughter, became a beast Queen. I am happy to hear my child will outlive me, prosperously for centuries; caring for fey like any proud mage. Though I know the veil can fog the mind, I hope you try to remember us.” He continued. Artemis’s family took turns giving her and Matcha comforting embraces, before parting. They took Odette with them to find the last of her children, wishing the best for the new royals. They saw their family off with a gentle smile in return; in spite of the events that had occurred. On the surface, it all seemed so scary, but underneath it was kindness. In time, and with tender love and care, the raven kingdom will once again have a happy ending. In a way, this new beginning already was one.

TABLE OF CONTENTS --->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #fantasy #tales of ealdan cynedom #story 11 #short stories #artemis #matcha #morgan #emilia #odette #Queen Odet #raven king #cadence #meriam #patrick

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scarftain-secret-tambler · 4 years

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I have some ideas for the inktober list, its not ready so tell what would you take of or what would you add♡♡♡♡

first meet, Captain realizing that he’s in love, taking care of polly, in an adventure, albino being baby, disagreement /figting, Ham nite, angst, drunk, ship crack, confession, oc/self insert, 21 century, different outfit, genderbend, fakiu Black Bellamy, christmas special, awkward, hearthbroken, blood /bloody, running from the police, rich, crossover, alternative universe, costume party, true love kiss, Book canonz, role swap, your own headcanon, daydreaming, free day, sword/cutlass fight, favorite characterz Cutlass Liz, wedding, sequel.

-blonde pirate

#thepirates!bandofmisfits #the pirates! in an adventure with scientists #pirate captain #piratewithascarf #pbom

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crystallized-shadow · 5 years

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Chapter: 1/? Rating: M Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word Count: 1902 Warnings: Fairly graphic depictions of violence, Dark Hashirama, Manipulative Hashirama, and eye stealing Summary: Tobirama is just settling into his new life with the Uchiha when Hashirama throws a wrench into things.

For @madatobiweek Day 2: Blind Tobirama

This is a sequel to This Might Work Afterall, please read that one first!

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

When Hashirama finds a hawk waiting for him the next morning he’s ecstatic that Madara is so serious about their childhood dream. After all what else could Madara be writing about? He’d groomed Tobirama into the perfect bride for his best friend. His otouto was the type to bottle all of his feelings up and ignore them, Butsuma may have been the one to teach Tobirama to do it, but Hashirama was the one that regularly took advantage of it. It had been all too easy to arrange everything, Tobirama was loyal to a fault and conditioned to obey him, another leftover from their childhood. Sure he might have exaggerated Izuna’s condition, he honestly had no idea what damage Tobirama’s strike had done, but he wasn’t worried; Tobirama would never mention Izuna to Madara and Madara would never let his husband near his baby brother. Hashirama knew his plan was perfect; soon he’d have his village and Madara would realize he should have sided with him that day at the river.

Madara’s letter is short, barely a sentence, but Hashirama has to read it nearly a dozen times before it sinks in.

“The Uchiha will honor the ceasefire, but that’s it.”

All of his planning, his observations of Madara, and his grooming of Tobirama, worthless. What possible reason could Madara have for such an uncharacteristically stupid response? He’d always known the Uchiha as a whole were idiots, and Madara was especially dense, but this was a whole new level of stupid! The only reason his best friend would have done this would be if Tobirama had acted like a normal fucking human for once and fucked everything up. That’s okay though, Hashirama thinks, he has a back-up plan after all; he’ll just make Madara see that creating a village is the only way to keep everything he cares for safe.

-----Back to Tobirama-----

When Tobirama had first come to the Uchiha compound he had expected to be treated like the freak he was in the Senju Clan; at worst he’d anticipated dodging fireballs every few minutes and at best to be treated with hatred and contempt. Instead he’d found a home where no one thought he was cursed, where no one was afraid to meet his eyes or just casually throw an arm over his shoulders. Tobirama had quickly learned just how tactile the Uchiha were and even being a Senju and married to the clan head hadn’t made him exempt from it. He’d also learned that while the clan clearly thought he was the submissive one they didn’t expect him to be docile, in fact they tended to value his words as though they had come from Madara himself. He didn’t care what role they thought he played, all that mattered to him was that it was him, and no one else, that got to pound Madara into the bedding at night.

“Is your clan always this welcoming?” Tobirama asks Izuna one day over tea a couple weeks after the wedding; Madara was tied up in meetings he didn’t have to attend for the day so Izuna had demanded they hangout. The double Mangekyo Sharingan transplant had been a success, completely reversing the damage done to both pairs of eyes and leaving the two strongest Uchihas stronger than ever.

Izuna hums thoughtfully, leaning a little heavier against Tobirama’s side. “Not usually, no.”

“So I’m special?” The albino asks, bitterness lacing his tone despite himself; it was never a good thing to be special.

“You are special Snowflake,” Izuna chuckles rubbing his knuckles into the snowy locks until Tobirama shoves him off with a huff. “You’re absolutely stunning to us Uchiha, if you weren’t Aniki’s you’d have lots of people fighting for your hand.”

“What?” Tobirama blinks in surprise, he knew Madara said he was beautiful but that was only because they were married, wasn’t it?

“Fair skin and red eyes is pinnacle of beauty for Uchiha,” Izuna points out, “you are literally our definition of beautiful Snowflake.”

“Stop calling me that,” Tobirama huffs, doing his best to ignore the rising warmth in his face; he knew he was blushing, he just hoped Izuna wouldn’t mention it.

“Beautiful or Snowflake?”

“Both.”

Izuna regards Tobirama for a long moment, Madara’s eyes letting him seem more than he had ever before. “You’re not used to compliments are you?”

“I was considered cursed by my clanmates,” Tobirama mutters, eyes falling to his feet, “a ghost of their most hated enemies come to haunt them.”

“Have I mentioned yet that I really hate the Senju?” Izuna mutters, gently grabbing Tobirama’s chin and forcing him to look up, “and you’re an Uchiha now, don’t forget that.”

“Thank you Izuna,” Tobirama says with a small smile, glancing toward the gate moments before it clatters open and Kagami runs over to them.

“Izu-sensei, Izu-sensei!” The young Uchiha pants, bracing his hands against his knees to catch his breath as Izuna jumps off the porch to stand before his student.

“What’s up Kagami?” Izuna asks with a slight frown.

“Madara-sama is looking for you, he says it’s urgent!”

“Stay with Tobirama!” Izuna orders as he rushes off to see what his brother wants; Madara wasn’t the type to exaggerate so he knew it must be bad.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tobirama grumbles, even if he knew Izuna had said it because he was worried about Kagami.

“I’m not your babysitter,” Kagami states with a grin too innocent for a shinobi, “I’m your protector! Izu-sensei and Madara-sama said I get to protect you from the Senju should they be dumb enough to show up here.”

Tobirama can’t help but laugh despite how touched he is because hearing something his husband clearly said coming from the curly haired 14-year-old is hilarious. “I feel so much safer with you around Kagami.” The albino says with a smile, ruffling the Uchiha’s hair.

“Since Izu-sensei is clearly busy now, can you train with me?” Kagami asks, stunning Tobirama. Sure he knew that the Uchiha accepted him, but so far the subject of him training with anyone aside from Izuna and Madara hadn’t come up.

“I can’t help you with your Katon,” Tobirama warns, not wanting to get the kid’s hopes up.

“I know!” Kagami states, “but you’re stronger than Izu-sensei and you know his weaknesses so you can help me beat him!”

“Well when you put it like that, how can I say no?” Tobirama chuckles, letting the younger shinobi lead him to one of the closer training fields; clearly Kagami had been told not to go too far from the compound. “Why don’t you show me what Izuna has taught you already, that way I know how many errors I have to correct.”

“I’m telling Izu-sensei you said that,” Kagami chuckles as he starts going through what he’s learned, because he knew Izuna’s reaction would be hilariously over the top and something was likely to be set on fire.

“Go for it.”

As it turns out Izuna was a very competent sensei and Kagami had already mastered the basics. Tobirama may not know all the specifics of the style Kagami’s learning, but he knows enough of Izuna’s style to give Kagami a few counter moves. Things are going smoothly until a spike suddenly bursts through Kagami’s chest.

“Kagami!” Tobirama exclaims, carefully freeing the young Uchiha and laying him on the ground. “Kagami can you hear me!?”

“R-run-!” Kagami manages to cough out before he goes limp.

“Kagami!!” Pushing more healing chakra into the wound, Tobirama fails to notice the presence behind him until someone grabs him by the hair and flings him across the clearing. Tobirama easily twists midair and lands on his feet, facing his attacker, only to go rigid in shock.

“You disappoint me Otouto.”

“No…” Tobirama mutters, clenching his fists to try and hide the trembling. There was no way Hashirama was here, no way that Hashirama had just attacked an Uchiha child, Madara had made it clear Hashirama wasn’t welcome anymore.

“You had one job,” Hashirama continues, stepping on Kagami’s unnaturally still body as he calmly approaches Tobirama, “one tiny, simple job that even someone like you couldn’t screw up, and yet you did.”

“You lied to me!” Tobirama exclaims, anger taking over as he gets ready to fight; Hashirama may be the stronger brother, but Tobirama was the smarter one.

“I merely told you what I was told,” Hashirama states, “my source must have been wrong.”

Tobirama wants to believe his anija, wants to accept that this had just been a simple misunderstanding, but he can’t. Izuna had told him too many instances of Hashirama using him for him to ever trust anything the Senju said. “You lied to me,” Tobirama growls, the air around them growing heavy as the water responds to him. “I won’t let it happen again.” The Water Dragon roars to life almost instantly, but it’s no match for the Wood Dragon Hashirama effortlessly creates.

“It’s so cute that you think you have a choice Otouto,” Hashirama chuckles, sending a barrage of wooden columns at Tobirama, “you are my heir; your life is mine to decide how to use.”

“I’m not your heir anymore!” Tobirama declares, summoning a quick Water Wall to block. “I am second in command of the Uchiha Clan, I owe you and the Senju nothing! Suiton: Severing Wave!” The stream of water easily cuts through second barrage of wooden columns headed his way, but it doesn’t even dent his brother’s Hobi.

“You may have been born a Senju, but I’ll make sure you die an Uchiha!” Hashirama finally moves, lunging at Tobirama, a sword headed straight for his neck.

Tobirama manages to dodge the blade, only for a tree root to pierce his shoulder. He was at a huge disadvantage fighting Hashirama in the middle of a fucking forest without a water source readily available. Using his own sword to cut back the wood, Tobirama jumps back, wanting to draw Hashirama further from Kagami, only to cry out in pain something clamps down on his right arm, snapping his bones clean in half. Before he can get free, a couple vines dig into his legs, immobilizing him.

“We could have avoided this Tobi,” Hashirama comments, a single hand sign coiling the vines around Tobirama’s right leg, snapping first his fibula and then his tibia. “Not going to scream? Beg me to stop?”

“Fuck you,” Tobirama growls, biting his lip to force back a scream as his femur mercilessly bored into.

Hashirama grins at the response, retracting the vines before he backhands Tobirama. The albino crashes to the ground, too battered to even try and get up as Hashirama crouches beside him. “You made me do this Otouto, remember that.”

“Go...to...hell…” Tobirama spits, smirking when the blood hits Hashirama right in the face.

“Crude,” Hashirama mutters, wiping his cheek before grabs Tobirama’s chin in a bruising grip. “Hold still for me Otouto,” the Senju coos, coating his other hand in an unfamiliar iryo ninjutsu.

Tobirama can only stare, eyes widen in shock, as Hashirama carefully removes first one, then his other eye. The last thing Tobirama sees is Hashirama’s stupid grin.

“Goodbye Tobirama,” Hashirama mutters, pressing a kunai to his brother’s throat, “perhaps now Madara will realize he should have joined me.”

“Fuck you,” Tobirama mutters, slipping into unconsciousness, barely feeling the kunai glide across his throat as a familiar inferno of chakra washes over his senses and he fades away.

“TOBIRAMA!!!”

#madatobiweek2019 #Day 2: Blind Tobirama #MadaTobi #TobiMada #Madara Uchiha #Tobirama Senju #Izuna Uchiha #Kagami Uchiha #Hashirama Senju #Izuna-Tobirama bonding #manipulative Hashirama #dark Hashirama #Hashirama is a really bad brother #blood #fairly graphic depiction of violence #eye stealing #my writing #Crystal writes

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worldcakecakecake · 5 years

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On Deutschland and Italia by Lovino Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Hahaha…hahahaha…hahaha…as you can probably tell, I have absolutely no control. Here, have yet ANOTHER new story that I have had here in the works for a while too. Another new pairing, prumano, which I admit is another of my favorites in the fandom and this is my diving into it as well.

This is done as a gift to a dear friend, Nikki, one of their accounts here at tumblr being @ask-the-icelandic-little. She has helped me several time with the stories, especially with the German in them and even helped me to write a letter so I could get my year visa here in Germany. She has been a great follower and friend and thus I honor her with this story. It is set in Hamburg as it her home and the place we managed to meet and spend some wonderful time together.

I hope this story is a well enough gift and hope other readers enjoy it as well.

Fair warning: Lovino is incredibly biased in writing these articles and can write very negatively about Germany. Things can even come as negative even for Italy and I apologize incredibly if you are deeply offended or you do not agree with the mention. I do admit that Lovino is MEANT to be this biased about Germany and I’m just exploring his thought process during the situation. But, I am extremely willing to hear better accuracies and how I can improve Lovino’s blogs. So please have no fear in messaging.

When it comes to updating, same as some of the last stories I’ve posted.

Chapter 1

On Deutschland and Italia.

Germania and the Roman Empire.

Aldrich Beilschmidt and Augusto Valenti.

The Roman Empire shared a northern border with Germania. Both groups trained and lived to fight, one making wars and pillaging enough to be considered one of the strongest empires in our history, the other the very one that brought this power its end. But before that, the Romans and Germanics lived in relative peace. Although the Romans kept trying to push into their land, Germanics themselves kept seeking entrance into the empire, wanting to live as Romans did, joining their armies, even seeking marriage. At first, the Romans denied many of these chances and it took many years of fighting and other casualties for the Romans to start giving them these permissions. Germanics talked often of the Romans, wanting to be like them, getting their items that they used for their own. And it was shared, for Romans were just as wondered by their brightness of their hair, eyes and skin, their own forms of battle, even their culture, which was extensively written about and it’s the reason we have information of the Germanics in the first place. The downside is that it’s all written by Romans.

These Germanics settled well in the territory, some even reaching high positions to lead even their own groups. Sadly, it was throughout this that they managed to get enough men to sack Rome, a dwindling of the empire beginning since then.

Aldrich Beilschmidt, esteemed for owning the famous ‘Beilschmidt Services’, the high demanded mechanic shop with the best state of the art technology that can get your car fixed like new. Augusto Valenti, founder of the restaurants ‘Antico’, the most acclaimed Italian restaurant in all of Hamburg, perhaps even Germany and I’m not writing that simply because he’s my grandfather.

These two figures hold a friendship that many have watched for years. They went to school together, traveled across Europe and even Africa and Asia together, they were the best man for each other’s wedding and each is a godfather to one of their children.

Who better to begin on this special series of articles about the relationship between Germany and Italy than two men of experience and stories that can well represent this great empire and these proud tribes.

They met in 1949, through a still reconstructing Europe after the second world war, in Denmark, where they were both attending a specialized boarding school. They formed a peculiar friendship, a shield to all the insults of ‘Nazi scum’ or ‘Mussolini mafia’ that they were shot at everybody, bonding over honey buns and which kid was bullying them more.

As the years passed, they managed rooming together, even took respecting trips to Germany and Italy to know their countries and even their families. Each adopted the other, both growing a relationship that was more like brothers each day.

On 1962, Aldrich wedded Louis Oelberg and Augusto, Helena Stefanidis, only by a mere month apart. Although Augusto and Helena only had a single daughter, my mother, Renata Valenti, Aldrich and Louis had three. The two elder boys, Marcellus and Karl Beilschmidt, and their youngest daughter, Monika Beilschmidt, who was born around the same time as Renata. Aldrich became Renata’s godfather, as Augusto to Monika, these two little girls continuing well that friendship, uniting the families through feasts, dinners, chats over the phone, their balconies, their front doors, through every step of their children’s growth, through the death of Helena, for when Marcellus left to Austria and Karl to Switzerland following love, trips, graduations, weddings and any other new births. It was following this friendship that Augusto established himself for some years here in Hamburg, Aldrich offering help to get Augusto opening that restaurant he often spoke and even dreamt of having outside of Italy. It is the reason why I came here when I was three and lived for about two years, before homesickness attacked well my family and we were once again brought back to Italy for many years before…once again, Hamburg, Germany, called us back…because there’s nothing in the world that can stop my grandfather’s ultimate epic romance with Aldrich Beilschmidt.

Now you must be wondering if I, Augusto Valenti’s eldest grandson, heir to the family’s power, has continued well this long family friendship to the great Beilschmidts. I’m sorry, but this is one of the many things I disappoint my family in.

To be honest, I can’t stand any of them, but if there’s one that takes the throne of holding my ultimate hatred, it’s Gilbert Beilschmidt.

There was Monika Beilschmidt and Renata Valenti, exchanging gossip, snacks and any new events happening in the city. Their two youngest sons, Ludwig Beilschmidt and Feliciano Valenti, both two years old, played in a sand box, trying to build castles or pretend foods with their toy molds, a corner just for them which both the mothers could watch them from. Lovino Valenti, Renata’s eldest, chose to sit by his mother, bored, pouting, hands wrapped on his chest angry and even vengeful. The four-year-old kept his heavy stare on the monkey bars, on the big slides and high levels to climb on, with countless games or fake horses to ride, and yet he was not part of it, as any boy his age should.

“Lovino, carino, go on, play,” Renata had tried to usher him, but Lovino would just pout more, wrapping his arms more strongly around him, as if trying to chain himself to the bench.

“Gilbert is out there. I’m sure he’d love for you to play with him.” It was just at the mention that a loud laugh echoed across the playground, said albino boy having found a way to climb the biggest pole, hanging himself from it and waving around a large toy sword, seeming to claim the entire area as his own.

Monika groaned and hid her face in shame in her hands while Renata giggled.

Lovino didn’t want to mention that he was the real reason he refused to stand up, so he just remained as silent as he had arrived to the park.

“Or you can play with Antonio and Francis,” Renata continued to suggest.

Both these boys kept a further slide and small climbing rock to themselves, taking rounds and finishing by picking some of their dolls and action figures they brought to play, all laid across the sand just for them.

Lovino sighed, guessing they will do, finally standing and making his reach. He kept out of eye sight from the raging albino, hiding well until he reached Antonio and Francis’s playing domain.

“Hi,” he shyly introduced himself.

Antonio perked and gave a large smile, running over and even embracing Lovino tightly, something the other was already used to, so he didn’t bother in pushing him off as he usually did, especially when he was trying to avoid getting a lot of attention…thus getting Gilbert’s attention.

“Hi, Lovino! Are you okay? You look kind of scared,” the young Spanish boy worried.

“Can I…can I play with you and Francis?” He asked yet with that very fear.

“Of course, you can! Right now we’re trying to solve a murder mystery! Someone killed Dusky the mime and we think it was Dawny the clown!”

And Lovino joined, partaking in all the action they imagined, using well the slide, the rock climbing, the toys, creating an array that had even others joining. Many began to notice, adults thinking it sweet, other children wanting to partake, even those that played along with Gilbert.

“So, it was Ernest the bat this entire time,” Elizabeta wondered as she saw from one of the top levels of the jungle gym.

“They shouldn’t have interrogated Spotti like they did,” Sadiq added.

“What are you guys staring at anyways?” Gilbert finally dropped from the ceiling, getting between them and wanting a better watch. “What are they doing?” He demanded to know.

“Solving a murder.”

“They just finished interrogating Ernest the bat and they’re going to arrest him.” Sadiq pointed to Lovino, who for now, did the guard that was taking the bat plush away, meant to be hidden under the slide as the pretend prison.

“Oh look, Lovino is playing,” Gilbert grinned evilly.

“Leave him alone, Gilbert,” Elizabeta warned, but Gilbert scoffed.

“I think someone should break in and free Ernest,” he decided, jumping over the rails, sliding down a pole, reaching the ground and running off to the scene.

Lovino had just placed the plush, pretending to close an imaginary cell. “And you’re staying there forever!” He declared, thinking he could turn to deal with the injuries Justin the bear had suffered in the heist. He was completely unprepared for when a new presence slid well under the slide, arising dust into the air, making Lovino cough and wave his hands trying to get clearance. When it all settled, Ernest was not in his prison anymore, instead, in the high arms of Gilbert Beilschmidt at the other side of the slide.

“It is not over! Ernest is free again! And he will not rest until he has his vengeance,” Gilbert shouted.

“No! He has to stay in there!” Lovino went to get it back, but Gilbert was taller and could keep the plush high in the air, not a reach for Lovino no matter how hard he jumped.

“Give it back! Give it back!”

“No, I want to keep him!” Gilbert even went and embraced the plush.

“He’s not yours!”

“Not yours either!”

“You weren’t even supposed to play!”

“I can if I want to! You can’t boss me around!” They kept turning and jumping across the area, Gilbert even beginning to laugh loudly at Lovino’s continued attempts that were foolish now.

“Why can’t you ever leave me alone?!” Lovino was getting furious, his grasps now more harsh, dangerous, his nails seeming to grow into claws now.

“Cause, it’s fun! You always get so funny when you get like this!” And there was that laugh, evil and haunting in Lovino’s mind, annoying, and there was nothing more that he wanted than for it to stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.

One of those grasps became a push. It wasn’t hard, it was only a little touch to Gilbert’s stature, but it created an instant halting, Gilbert staring at the area he pushed for some sort of marking. There was nothing, but to Gilbert, the fact that Lovino dared touch him, was mark and insult enough. The glare he grew was predatory-like, his grip on Ernest the Bat harsh, Antonio and Francis fearing he would break it from where they stood staring.

“You’re not…supposed…to touch me!” He shouted, throwing Ernest to the sand.

“Then just leave me alone!” Lovino dared come forward with another push, but that very extend of his arms, Gilbert used them to throw him to the ground, beside the plush. The other kids scurried back in fear.

Before Lovino was given a chance to stand, Gilbert was on him, kicking, punching, scratching and Lovino answered the same way. Children called, the scene one that began to take attention, Monika and Renata noticing, having to jump instantly to stop both their sons’ fighting. By the time both the mothers had departed them, both the boys were already covered in new cuts and bruises, Lovino sending a kick for another, Gilbert his own, both trying to break from their mothers’ hold to continue.

“Gilbert! Gilbert! Stop! That is enough!” Monika shouted commandingly, having to embrace his whole body to get him to still any angered movement.

“Lovino! Lovino! Calm down! Calm down! Stop this!” Renata in turn had to pick him up, hold him to his shoulder, rub his back, a lulling that always made its effect.

They were causing a large stare, one that the mothers were beginning to find intrusive, and so both, with shared glances of apology, decided that it was best to leave and talk about this with their sons back in their own homes. As to not have anymore interactions, they quickly picked their things, having to pull apart Ludwig and Feliciano and leave hurriedly. Both the toddlers complained and cried, making it more difficult with their elders glaring and pouting as they made their way to their respective cars.

Renata lived with her father, husband and two sons in the apartments above the restaurant, a pretty active street in the city almost as lively as it had been in Rome. Renata greeted the waiters and workers she knew worked this shift before taking the brightly red painted door that led upwards, the three meeting the delightful scent of freshly made lunch that even coated the stairs. Renata placed Feliciano on the ground, the little boy confidently, although with some difficulty, making the rest of his climb up.

“Pasta! Pasta! Pasta!” He shouted as he ran towards the kitchen, crushing into the hold of his grandfather, who smiled, taking him up in his arms to kiss and blow raspberries on his stomach.

“Yes! I have made lots of pasta for you and your brother to stuff yourselves!”

Feliciano celebrated and Augusto laughed, expecting the same smile and eagerness from his older grandson, but he entered the room maddened, looking away from even all the tomatoes he had placed on the table.

“And what’s with that face, piccolo pomodoro?” Augusto neared, wanting his embraces and kisses now, but Lovino huffed and moved back.

“I hate Gilbert!” He proclaimed loudly.

Augusto sighed, gazing over to Renata to hear a better explanation.

“The usual,” she rolled her eyes.

“What did he do this time?” Augusto picked up Lovino to sit on the counter, so he could tell his story at eye level.

“I was playing with Antonio and Francis, we were solving this murder and had finally caught the culprit! We send him to prison, but Gilbert wanted to get him out! I told him he wasn’t supposed to, that he wasn’t even supposed to play and that he had to leave me alone. He pushed me and then we started fighting. Look what he did!” He raised the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his new bruises, which made Augusto lament, getting some ointments and napkins to help cure the area.

“Well…at least I know you’re perfectly capable of protecting yourself,” Augusto sighed, even if it meant that he was fighting with one of his best friend’s grandson.

“I gave it to him good, Nonno! He’ll have marks for days!” He exalted.

“It’s not something to be proud of, Lovino. I would much prefer if you two actually…sat down and played nicely. Is it too much to ask?”

“Yes it is! All Gilbert does is make fun of me and call me mean things,” Lovino pouted.

“You’re right, but then you continue in his game and it just gets worst. How about next time, you compliment him or suggest something you can both do together,” he tried to create peace.

“No!” Lovino decided, sure.

“Come on…” Augusto wanted to convince him.

“No! No! No! No! No!” Lovino shook his head fiercely, turning so harshly he began leaning to the side, almost falling from the top of the counter if Augusto haven’t gotten him right.

“If you’re not going to, at least try to behave more whenever were with the Beilschmidts.”

“I don’t like any of them, Nonno, not even Ludwig!”

“He’s only two years old!”

“Still don’t like him!”

“But were all such good friends with them. We can’t just stop seeing them because you don’t like them.”

“I would make me really happy if you did…” he saddened, looking down.

“Lovino, mio caro.” Augusto took his chin, raising his hazel eyes back to his bright brown ones. “You don’t have to like them if you don’t want to, but you have to understand what they mean to us. When you’re older, and you’re no longer living in this household, you can do whatever you want and not see any of their faces again.” Lovino glowed at such wonderful days far in the future. “But for now, bare what you can, and try not to start a fight with Gilbert every time you’re in the same room.”

And Lovino remained silent, adverting his eyes in a way that made Augusto know that no such things was happening any time soon. He sighed, he would just have to repeat this speech on and on until he could finally understand.

“Go wash up and then we can have lunch, all right?”

“Mhm!” His smile and energy was true as he got down from the counter and headed quickly.

Augusto sighed and wondered on about what he could do.

On Deutschland and Italia.

Union and Betrayals.

Leaving Hamburg.

Yes, Germany and Italy have a vast history together that could might as well start with Ancient Rome and the Germanic tribes. Something that constantly repeats between these two countries is incredible moments of union…and then those of ultimate betrayal. Sure, both were in the ‘I hate Austria’ club and parts of Italy were part of the once Holy Roman Empire and the German confederation, but we can’t forget that in both world wars, they would begin allied…only to end betraying each other in massacres. Despite this, they formed an alliance during the cold war and now they are both leading members of the European Union.

Such a thing to ruin the relationship with the Beilschmidts and the Valenti has not happened, but the closest that came to it was when we had to leave Hamburg about twenty years ago.

Such departure was celebrated, in a fine dinner that both Gilbert Beilchmidt and Lovino Valenti were forced to wear tight suits, fitted for their small figures. They both spent much of the celebration trying to remove what they could…only to have their mothers tighten or put back whatever they left in the tables or chairs. With whatever fun they tried to find, they still ended spending much of the celebration just sitting in different tables, pouting and talking about how they wanted to leave.

In the three years Lovino had lived in Hamburg, Aldrich and Augusto had constantly repeated the advice to both their grandsons, yet neither had done fair to their words. Their fights, problems and hatred only increased in number, in fact, they only glared at each other whenever they had to meet during the feast. At one point it seemed like a competition, since they would sit for minutes just sending hatred with their eyes. Aldrich and Augusto couldn’t keep their arms off from each other, Monika and Renata couldn’t stop talking, and Ludwig and Feliciano wouldn’t stop crying. Gilbert and Lovino wanted to get away from each other.

Finally, at deep late hours, Renata had come to place her hands gently on Lovino’s shoulders, after having them clean the tears that fell down her cheeks. “Ready to go?”

For once in the entire dinner, did Lovino actually smile, sure that that glare would be the last he would give to Gilbert Beilschmidt, as well as the last time he would see his annoying white hair, viola eyes and ultimate paleness.

On Deutschland and Italia.

The Eurozone Crisis.

Returning to Hamburg.

Germans like to believe that they are the knights in shining armor coming to save a damsel in distress Italy from some far-off tower in our current crisis. If you dare tell me that, you’re earning yourself an easy punch in the face or an ultimate cursing that will be felt across your entire lineage.

This is incredibly untrue, in fact, Italy has been helping countries like Greece, Spain and Ireland more so than Germany has done. I believe the Germans made all this ploy to get cheaper shopping sprees and take our companies for themselves.

Let me make this clear, I hate Germany, and I could easily make an entire new blog dedicated to my desire to burn the place to the ground. Then why return? Why after twenty years did I decide to return to the city that all I can remember about is nightmares, cold, bad food and an annoying albino making it worst. Easy, because Germany could give me an opportunity that Italy tragically could not. My story is not the first to happen to an Italian, it is a constantly repeated tale that you can find in any other Italian blog, or you can hear any young Italian say.

Germany is not only taking our goods and money. They’re also taking Italy’s brightest minds. Why does this happen? Easy…because Italy is falling apart and we are left with no other choice than to leave for England, or the U.S., or of course, Germany.

Italy owes more than two trillion euros and whenever we think we have that money, it just suddenly disappears (corruption, obviously).

So I’m left with no other choice than to come back and accept this barbarian country as my new home.

I’m twenty-five, independent even when living above my grandfather’s restaurant with the rest of my family in the same building, my own job, my own car, my own wishes, plans…which means I at least don’t have to face those disgusting Beilschmidts again.

He kicked the door open, finally bringing in the last box, dropping it to the floor and then pushing it to join the others. He groaned knowing he had to unbox and organize. He had just arrived and was in no mood to deal with anything else, wondering if he should just take a nap. When he heard the exciting and rushing steps coming up the staircase, he knew that chance for rest was not going to occur at all.

“You are finally here!” His grandfather just crashed into the apartment, hands all over the place, his body seeming to bring an entire parade with him.

Lovino rolled his eyes but readied his opened hands to take and accept the hug Augusto always greeted him with. He was spun, with a couple of bones cracked before he was placed back on the ground.

“So, have you started?” Augusto was too wondered as he gazed about the apartment, empty but for a couple of appliances.

“No, and I don’t think I want to today.” The only thing Lovino settled on taking out was a bean chair, throwing it in what would be the center of the living room, then falling upon it, closing his eyes and settling himself already for a nap.

“Don’t be such a lazy ass!” Augusto scolded and clapped his hands to keep him awake. “Come on, I’ll help you! Where do we start?” He went ahead and opened the nearest stacked box, a fragile one with a lot of flower decorated plates Lovino had gotten in Sicily.

How his almost eighty-year-old grandfather could so readily take a pile and place them already in their cabinet with energy to continue was beyond him, he was still not moving from his spot. He took out a pair of sunglasses and decided he would settle no matter what his grandfather would do. Augusto was not accepting it though, and as he turned around to get to the other boxes, he kicked the bean bag until Lovino was tumbling over to the ground.

“What the hell?!” Lovino shouted in his usual angry fires.

“Come on! Let’s get to it! The sooner you have everything, the sooner you can get to taking all the siestas you want.” Augusto had learned to be unfazed by it all.

Pouting, Lovino stood, angrily kicking the bean bag himself, throwing the sunglasses and opening harshly a box of decorated cups.

“You know, when Feliciano had first moved here, he couldn’t keep still. He had his whole apartment ready that weekend to accept guests,” Augusto recalled as he found some vases that could be used at the counter to decorate.

“Nonno, it was extremely obvious he did it to impress Ludwig and to end up getting fucked that night.”

“Your younger brother is an angel who will not do such things. He told me he was going to wait till marriage and I’m sure of his word.”

Lovino rolled his eyes and didn’t bother continuing forward. “Whatever. Feliciano was excited to come here, I’m not.”

“Yet you’re here.”

“Because I had no other choice. If it was up to me, I would still be in Naples right now.” There was such sadness in his voice as he picked some books to place on a nice shelf in the living room.

“And I’m sure that there will be many other chances for you to return. Hamburg has a lot to offer you as a beautiful young Italian man.”

To be honest, Lovino loved it when his grandfather complimented like he did, as if he was presenting him to an important crowd. For a moment he could forget about that weigh of stress, happily moving about boxes now, trying to get more kitchen related items.

“After you have everything you need from here, something bright will await you once again in Naples,” Augusto was sure as he placed jars now.

“I want to be back by the end of the year,” Lovino had promised himself.

“And you will, but for now, try to be happy here. All will work well, you’ll see.”

next chapter >

#on deutschland and italia by lovino valenti #prumano #prumano fanfiction #prumano fanfic #prumano fic

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lupinusalbus · 5 years

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Jon and Daenerys - Their Magical Animals

On the show Game of Thrones, and in the books, the Starks and the Targaryens are the two houses which possess magical companion animals. Both houses begin the series without animals and then regain them in the course of season one. We learn that House Targaryen’s dragons had gone extinct until Daenerys is gifted with three dragon eggs at her wedding to Khal Drogo and then hatches them in the finale of season 1. Likewise, in the very first episode, Ned Stark, Jon, Robb, Bran and others come upon a direwolf which has been gored by a stag in the woods. The dead wolf had six living pups which are adopted by the five legitimate Stark children and Jon Snow.

The circumstances under which the two houses obtain the animals are quite different. Daenerys plays an active roll in bringing about the birth of the dragons, thus her title of “Mother”. Although the exact dynamic of the magic that hatches the dragons is not spelled out, Dany had dreamed about what she should do. The witch, Mirri Maz Durr (whom Dany believed she had rescued) had promised to save Khal Drogo’s life by using a ritual, but instead left him in a catatonic state and also took the life of Dany’s unborn child as the blood price for what Drogo’s Khalasar did to her people. Dany burns her on Drogo’s funeral pyre and walks into it herself as Drogo’s body and the eggs are also burning. The next morning, it is revealed that the Dragon eggs have hatched, as Dany had dreamed.

Dany Examines a Dragon’s Egg (HBO)

Thus, Dany seemingly brought about the birth of the dragons by making a blood sacrifice. This action echoes the beliefs of of the followers of R’hllor, although the Valyrian religion of the Targaryens was not the same as that of R’hllor. In any case, we see on the show that the followers of R’hollr, such as Melisandre and Kinvara are supporters of Daenerys, believing her to be Azor Ahai. Interestingly, the circumstances under which the Dragons are born is not presented on Game of Thrones as being completely good in the context of the dichotomy of good and evil. After Dany loses her son and views the catatonic Drogo, Mirri Maz Durr informs her that she isn’t grateful to Dany for “saving her”:

Saved me? Three of those riders had already raped me before you saved me, girl. I saw my god's house burn, there where I had healed men and women beyond counting. In the streets I saw piles of heads... the head of the baker who makes my bread, the head a young boy that I had cured of fever just three moons past. So... tell me again exactly what it was that you saved?"

Daenerys is apparently untroubled by the ethical conundrum presented by the witch’s words and burns her during Drogo’s funeral ritual. It isn’t really surprising that Dany views her action as justified, but this set-up for the Dragons’ birth does lend a bit of darkness to the mysteries of their origin. Indeed, the show often hints that there is a “shadow side” to Dany and her dragons, such as when the creatures burn children or when Dany herself burns people alive or condemns them in other ways. But Dany has a sense of destiny as a Targaryen, and the dragons are intimately connected to her understanding of this and her awesome power.

As described above, the Stark children obtain their Direwolves after Ned Stark and his party, including Jon Snow, discover six Direwolf pups outside of Winterfell in season one, episode 1. The significance of the event is hinted at because Direwolves have not been seen South of The Wall for a very long time. The pups’ mother has been killed by a stag and Ned Stark wants to euthanize them until Jon Snow intervenes by observing to Ned that Direwolves are the sigil of House Stark and that there is a pup for each of the Stark children. Ned Stark hesitates but then relents after Bran Stark begs him. As the group is departing with the pups, Jon Snow finds the albino runt of the litter, Ghost, and takes him for himself. Therefore, Jon receives a Direwolf that is set apart from the others, yet is at the same time part of the pack. In contrast to the Dragons, who originated from a blood sacrifice by Daenerys, the Stark Direwolves are orphans rescued from death by the intervention of Jon Snow.

The significance of the Direwolves has been toned down by the show, but the Stark children have a mystical connection to the animals through warging and dreaming. The plot suggests that there is also an intimate but not completely clear connection between the fates of the Stark children and their respective animals. Therefore it is probable that the Starks have a bond with the Direwolves in a manner similar to Daenerys Targaryen and the Dragons. As of now on the show, only the Direwolves of Jon Snow and Arya Stark are still living. In terms of their history, Direwolves are thought to be connected in some way to the Children of the Forest, and therefore to the Old Gods.

The Mystical Significance of the Animals

Just like the Starks and Targaryens, the dragons and Direwolves are tied to the mystical underpinnings of the show which simmers beneath the surface rivalries. Both species of magical animals (thought to be extinct in the case of the dragons or rare in the case of the direwolves) re-appear at around the same time and likely signify the two polarities often mentioned - that of “Ice and Fire”. A peculiarity of George RR Martin’s world is that the seasons are out of whack, which logically must be due to some kind of imbalance between these polarities. The disharmony of the seasons is somehow being mirrored by the dichotomy of the Targaryens and the Starks and their respective animals. Dragons are animals of conquest while (dire)wolves are loyal pack animals. Just as the Targaryens are said to be hot tempered and hot blooded, the Starks are considered to be honorable and loyal.

Bran’s visions in season six, occurring as he and Meera Reed are running from the wights, hint at this imbalance as they reveal scenes of various tragedies befalling the Starks interspersed with depictions of the dragons and the Mad King (and the Night King). In some way, these conflicts and events tell the story of a forgotten struggle that is again reaching a crisis point. The Dragons and the Wolves, R’hllor and the Old Gods, The Starks and the Targaryens are signifiers for ancient forces that will be central to the conclusion of this saga.

Jon Snow, who because of his blood connection to both the Starks and the Targryens, is hinted as being of special significance because he embodies a balance between Ice and Fire. Many viewers and even some characters on the show (such as Melisandre) seem to think that the union of Jon and Daenerys is the “Song of Ice and Fire”, but it may be Jon alone who fits the bill. If saving the world involves the restoration of balance, Jon Snow may be the individual who in some manner will achieve this. Since Jon is both a Targaryen and a Stark, he may have a mystical bond to both dragons and Direwolves. The show has already hinted at this in the scene from season seven where Drogon allows Jon to touch him.

It may be Jon’s personal qualities and implied mystical significance combined which will be central in resolving Game of Thrones’s conflicts and mysteries as symbolized by the Dragons and Direwolves.

#jon snow #house stark #house targaryen #direwolves #dragons #game of thrones #ice and fire

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d-joana-a-shippadora · 7 years

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Blessed by the fireflies

Hello!

Here I am with the first place of my give away for @spiritussalis ! (/owo)/

It’s a DenNor, as she asked me. Not so fluffy as I wished, but I used a prompt for it, “he isn’t my boyfriend”. I swear to God that in my head this was better, but oh well.

I hope you enjoy <3

As soon as the film was over and the lights switched on, Simon rose from his chair and stretched, happy to be able to move freely again. He looked at Lukas, eager to start blabbering about the film; to remain practically without speaking to his beloved for almost two hours was a sacrifice; only exchanged a few words while watching the movie. At least they went hand in hand and sharing butter-flavored and cheesy popcorns that clandestinely entered that room; the cinema only sold the caramelized ones. Besides, it would be cheaper to buy at the supermarket. To commit a folly or another once in a while was funny, especially when it is with your love.

Lukas also got up with the packets of popcorn and took the cup of his drink from the stand.

"Did you like the movie?" Simon asked, reaching for his cup. His smile indicated that he had liked it immensely and that he was eager to talk about it.

"Yes," replied Lukas, thinking how cute Simon was, so excited to talk about the movie. "Not the best of the director, but it was very good."

"Oh, nothing will surpass his previous film!"

The movie they were talking about was the first they saw as a couple; it was special to them, but that wasn't the reason they considered the director's best film. It was a real masterpiece. The plot was interesting and appealed to the viewer to think and get involved with the story. The characters were complex and enthralling, so well interpreted. The soundtrack let anyone feel the emotions portrayed, and the special effects were to be praised. It was a sin that film wasn't selected for the Oscars in the category of foreign films; Simon and Lukas were furious with this, even though they knew the director wasn't very well known.

Anyway, the one they just saw was good, just didn't exceed that one.

"Do you want to stop at a cafe to have an ice cream?" Asked the Dane, putting the garbage in the place. "We can talk about the movie while we eat! ~"

"You still have room on your belly?"

"Yes! ~"

"Gluttony," Lukas commented, chuckling. "Alright, we can do that."

In the food court of the mall was full of people and filled with restaurants of foreign brands and some national. The ice cream shop was without a queue, which meant that the couple didn't delay too long.

They walked to the terrace, hand in hand and a trivial conversation about the flavors chosen. Simon was curious about Lukas' ice cream; this one offered him a lot and the Dane gladly accepted.

While savoring the exotic flavor of the ice cream (Lukas decided to innovate and get out of the monotony), Simon heard a familiar chortle and looked at the albino who was in a group of friends drinking a good mug of beer.

"Ah! Gilbert! "He exclaimed, pulling the Norwegian closer to the table. "How long, dude!"

"Simon! Really!"

Gilbert looked well at Simon, his former dorm roommate and a companion to many fools; then looked at Lukas, who recognized him as the Danish childhood friend, though he had never seen him in person (only in photos) since Simon and Lukas went to different universities. The Norwegian, though uncomfortable with the eyes of the albino and his friends, was still eating his ice-cream; he was shy when he was in the presence of strangers.

Gilbert quickly noticed that both were holding hands and smiled triumphantly. Ah! So what, his great friend Simon was dating his childhood friend? That explained the almost dreamed way Simon had when he spoke of the Norwegian!

"So, Simon, do you have a boyfriend now?"

"Oh, he isn't my boyfriend!" Simon replied, smiling proudly. He let go of Lukas's hand to show the gold ring on it. "He's my fiancé!~"

"Dude! That is awesome! "Began Gilbert, surprised by this news. "Not as awesome as I thought, but still awesome!"

The Dane laughed and introduced Lukas to Gilbert and the latter introduced his friends. The conversation was brief, involving a promise to invite the "most incredible person" Simon had ever met to their wedding and an invitation to go out for a beer someday.

Lukas and Simon sat at a table at the end of the terrace overlooking the river; the landscape seen from here was a contrast to the city and nature, between the rush and the calm.

"You have a lot of friends I don't know," Lukas commented, watching the cars cross the bridge. "I imagine you're going to invite them to our wedding."

"Well, some," Simon replied. "But you will also invite your own."

"Yes."

"Aaaah, I can't believe we're getting married.~"

Simon finished his ice cream and rested his elbows on the table, watching the other man eat.

"By the way, I can't believe you made the proposal."

"We had already talked about marriage, but you never would asked me," Lukas explained, displaying a small smile. "I couldn't wait any longer."

"I swear I was thinking of a creative way to do it," he laughed; Lukas loved his smile and laughter. "But nothing will surpass yours; it was really magical! "

There was a lake where Lukas and Simon played as children; on a starry night, Lukas made the request there with the help of "fireflies" that illuminated the place (although the Norwegian put some lamps there). That moment had been planned with rigour; it had to be, after all. He didn't want anything to ruin that moment.

"I'm glad you accepted ..."

"Of course I did!"

Simon began to babble about their future, how they would adopt a dog, preferably a labrador. Meanwhile, Lukas compared Simon to a labrador; the image was too adorable and it made him giggle, which made the Dane stop what he was saying and admire the beauty of his fiancé.

Ah, how I love you, they both thought.

#dennor #APH Denmark #aph norway #fanfic #give away da Shippadora #JoanaShippadora #oh boy #I hope you like this!#<3

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lastbluetardis · 7 years

Note

21 Bad Wolf is gravely injured and it’s a blessing that she’s unconscious. Her protective clothing barely covers her, dissolved by the acidic green mystery goo. Blisters are beginning to form wherever skin is exposed. Thankfully, her neck and face remain unscathed so she is recognisable. Davros’ insane minion is standing over his victim spouting words of victory. 💋IBB

22 “Humans are inferior. You are proof that emotions make you weak. It was a tactical error to return. Exterminate!” He raises a weapon and poises to shoot. And then there is a spray of green goo and gelatinous tissue as the hideous mutant creature is annihilated. A figure clad in black kneels and strokes her hair as he apprises her grave condition. He shouts orders at his team and soon Bad Wolf is on a stretcher and being loaded into a black SUV.

23 Nurses and techs are poised to act when she arrives. Bad Wolf is wheeled into a dark, calm room. What looks like a high-tech deep-sea diver’s helmet is fitted onto her head. Oxygen, pain medication, a paralytic, and sleep agent fill her nostrils. Nurses carefully remove her clothing, careful to not do further harm. She will be asleep for hours, if not days, as her body is restored, fully submerged in the blue healing gel.

23 Next to her are tanks occupied by Jack and Jake. “Are they going to make it?” Pete asks. “Jake should be out of the tank by tomorrow morning. Jack has a higher percentage of burns, but will be fine after dermal regeneration. Bad Wolf,” Dr. Smith hesitates. “The next 24 hours will be critical. She is significantly burned.” Pete drops his head into his hands. “Save her doctor. Her family will be devastated if she doesn’t make it.” “Who is she?”

24 Pete lifts his head and stares at the tank where his daughter is suspended behind opaque glass. “I can’t say.” John places his palm on the tank. “Tomorrow I’ll turn the speakers on inside of her helmet. She will need someone to talk to her. To calm her if she regains consciousness.” “Call her Marion.” John nods. “Marion, it’s Dr. Smith. I’m sure you know who I am. I wish I knew who you are.”

25 John sits vigil all night, and in the morning, Jake wakes up. He fights against the sensory deprivation and cool gel, and is pulled out, cleaned off, and put back into bed. “Did you save Bad Wolf?” he asks. “She’s in that tank,” John inclines his head. “Thank God. Jack?” “He’ll be fine in a few days.” Jake closes his eyes. “Bad Wolf is hurt bad?” “Yes. She’s critical.” Jake is wheeled away. John goes to Jack’s tank and talks to him for a while, teasing him about being naked in goo.

26 Pete checks on ‘Marion’ and Jack hourly, but spends the majority of his time speaking to the woman, hand on the glass. John sees tears in Pete’s eyes, but doesn’t say anything. She must be a very special member of the team. A day later, Jack is pulled out, and the painful process of dermal regeneration begins. He’s placed in a soundproof room so the other patients aren’t subjected to his screams.

27 Three days have passed and Marion is still critical. He hasn’t been home since the morning of the ambush. He’s showered, eaten, slept a few hours, but his worry for Marion has moved beyond the standard concern a doctor has for a patient. Pete’s words bounce around his memory. “Save her doctor Her family will be devastated.” He can’t help but think about that kiss that she gave him. She’d been so full of life and her voice had been light even in the face of danger. He won’t let her die.

28 Day four arrives and Marion wakes up screaming. “Let me out! Get me outta here!” John is frozen for a moment, stuck halfway between sleep and wakefulness, but then he jumps into action and releases a held breath when he sees her vitals are stable. He presses a button. “Marion, this is Dr. Smith. Just answer yes or no. Are you in pain?” “Yes.” He presses a button. “Better?” “Yes.” “Do you know where you are?” “Yes.” “Do you remember what happened?” There’s a pause.

29 “Marion?” he repeats. “My team?” “They’re safe.” She whispers a prayer of thanks. “Going to warm up the gel now.“ feels good.” “Now try not to move.” “Ok.” And then she laughs. “It tickles!” “Good tickling or bad tickling?” He tries to distract her from the impending pain. “Oh. Definitely not good. What’s goin’ on?” She whimpers. “Your nerves are waking up. It should pass in moments.” “Doctor, um, do you know who I am? You keep calling me Marion, but that’s not my name.”

30 “Director Tyler says you want to remain anonymous.” “You’re gonna find out, right?” “Yep. Do you want me to bring someone else in?” He can hear her breathing. “I’m someone you know. Well, someone you think you know.” “Can I guess?” “How about 20 questions? It’ll distract me.” He smiles. He likes the way she thinks.

31 “1 Are you tall?” She laughs. “Definitely no.” “Hmmm. 2 Have we spoken in the last week?” “Yes.” “3 Ginger hair?” “No.” “4 Brunette?” “Nope.” “Well that leaves blonde, unless you are albino, but I have never met a female person with albino traits, so I’ll go with blonde and I didn’t waste a question.” She laughs again.

32 “6 Have I been to your home?” “Yes.” “Blimey, didn’t expect that.” “I’m good at disguising myself in plain sight.” “7 Have I ever seen you out of disguise? Well of course I have. You said I’ve met you?” Now she knows it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out “8 Were you in disguise when we met?” “Dr. Smith, you should really be asking which me is in disguise.”

33 “Am I public me? The one you’ve met? Or am I Bad Wolf? You’ve met both of me.” “9 Is Bad Wolf your disguise?” “Now you’re getting warmer. No. Bad Wolf is me. The me I want you to know. Because the thing is, I don’t like playing pretend and dressing up in those posh clothes and pretending to be a party girl who only cares about herself. I care about London. I care about people and resourceful and-”

34 “It’s you!” He grins. “Rose Tyler, you are brilliant!” “Ya got it in ten.” She’s pulled from the healing gel, and Dr. Smith turns away from her naked body, not feeling as detached as her doctor should. She’s cleaned and clothed and he walks alongside of her gurney, holding her hand, as she’s wheeled to the dermal regeneration ward. He whispers words of comfort into her ear and holds her hand.

35 It’s been about a year since John figured it out. It’s the annual Vitex fundraiser. They’re pressed against each other, dancing in sync to a slow, sensual beat. They are in a dark, deserted corner of the dance floor. He draws her hand to his mouth and kisses her scratched knuckle. It’s deja vu. “Don’t suppose you got this cut trimming roses with your mum?” “Sabre toothed tiger came through the rift.”

37 “And this bruise on your neck?” He laves her skin with his tongue, and she mewls into his ear. “Little green alien had a helluva roundhouse.” He grabs her bum and pulls her into him but instead of her usual moan, she squeaks and winces. “Sorry!” “It’s alright, got that bruise when I fell on my bum, but I saved a little boy from the three-eyed lizard man. Kiss it better when we get home?”

38 Davros is gone, there are always new threats, and Bad Wolf carries on. Rose still plays heiress and the handsome Dr. John Smith is part of her disguise. The wedding of the brilliant Doctor and the Vitex Heiress had been quite the event. “Part of the disguise” her mother had insisted. But everyone at Torchwood knows the real story, and they all keep the secret, because the safety of the Earth is at stake. 💖WhoInWhoville

Yessssssssssss!!!!! Thank you so much @whoinwhoville!!!! I loved this whole thing, start to finish!!! Thank you thank you thank you for being such an amazing buddy all month!!!!!!

@dwinboxbuddies

#nonnie #ash answers #dwinboxbuddies #whoinwhoville #fic for me!#thank you my wonderful buddy!!

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mischiefmanagedrps · 7 years

Text

Tonight was the night. Tonight they were officially coming out as a a to-be husband and wife to the community they grew up in. Evangeline still knew it was the right decision, but her nerves were raising on her. Tonight her father would be there. Tonight everyone they knew would be there. She had explained to her mother, Astoria, and Narcissa that she would prefer the engagement ball to be the larger event because though the wedding would be large, she did not intend to invite all eight-hundred people they knew. She had gotten into her dress and they had stared her hair when her nerves got too high, panic setting in. It was the first time since being at the Malfoy Manor that her fear and panic had truly set back in. Hair half done she got up from the chair and told Astoria and Narcissa, “Excuse me, I will be right back.” and she turned from the room forgetting the five inch heels that she would be wearing to even her height some to Scorpius’. Down the stairs and out into the gardens. She felt the cool air hitting her skin even through the deep green velvet dress, tickling the back that was covered in lace,and took a deep breath feeling a small sense of calm. Scooping the bottom of her dress up she made her way to the aviary, to try and let the walk calm her mind. There was more to it then the fears, there was the fact that she still had not told Scorpius what she felt. She had thought tonight would be the perfect night, but the more she thought on it, the more stupid it felt. Moving past the front room and heading to the rear Evangeline pushed, then closed the room with the albino peacocks roaming. She moved to a bench and took a seat careful bring her dress up around her knees so as to not ruin it. Her neck and ears adorned with Malfoy silver jewels. If she felt like a princess tonight, what would the wedding feel like? A few of the peacocks came to her, and Evangeline reached out a hand as she ran it over their feathers gently and spoke, “What should I say to him? That he and his family are probably the reason I am still alive? That I won’t ever find someone like him, that his presence in a room makes my heart skip beats? That he is special to me?” Evangeline shook her head, “He does not think of me that way. He is Scorpius Malfoy, and can do so much better. Is so much better. I am Evangeline Nott, the severe hot mess.” Specially now, she said chuckling and blowing a stray piece of hair form her face.

As a shadow covered the peacock, Evangeline felt her panic rise as she realized that she hadn’t heard the door open, and she had no idea how long the other figure had been in the room.

#scorpius

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yannasunflower · 7 years

Text

Blood and Magic - Ch. 1

not quite sure why I’m doing this but the idea really wouldn’t leave me alone. inspired by @constellunaa and her incredible artwork. please check it out! Pairings: NaLu, Gajevy, Gruvia Rating: T for future violence and mature content ~can be found on ffnet~

{it is by suffering that human beings become angels - Victor Hugo}

The sound of her heels were muffled by the carpet underfoot. She glanced out the large windows lining the long hallway, smiling briefly at the beautiful day outside. Cloudless, blue sky and the smallest of breezes rustling the leaves, which were just barely beginning to change color.

She stood before the large door for a few moments more, sucking in a deep breath and ignoring the pinch of the corset as she did so. She cleared her throat slightly, and then raised her hand to knock a couple of times. She waited for her father to call her in before pushing the door open; it swung in silently on its oiled hinges.

The room was large and extravagantly decorated. A beautiful, massive oak desk sat in the center and giant bookshelves, crowded with books on finances and business, lined the walls. Some of the tomes were bigger than her head, while others were flimsy paperbacks. No pictures adorned any of the shelves or the desk. Instead, seated at the desk was a large man in an expensive suit, who barely glanced up as his daughter entered the room.

"You leave tomorrow," he said, a statement. Her father rarely asked questions. He, instead, stated what he wanted as if they were already facts, and so they became. He was the kind of man who was particularly skilled in bending wills. Not surprising, considering his family and their magics.

Lucy shifted uneasily, the stuffy dress her maid insisted she wear poking into her ribs. Really, it was ridiculous her father insisted she dress in gowns when she "presented" herself to him. Were they in Victorian England? Or the twenty first century?

He finally looked up from his paperwork, staring her in the eye until she felt the need to check to see if she had something in her teeth.

"You'll stay there for all vacations. Your teachers will send me weekly reports of your progress," he continued. "The school has an excellent reputation and I expect you to return in four years' time an esteemed, accomplished young woman."

He paused, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. Lucy didn't dare to nod or move or breathe too loudly. Instead, she waited. She had learned when his pauses meant he was waiting a response, and when he was merely gathering his thoughts.

"You'll make me proud."

If it were any other man, there may have been some kind of warmth to the statement. A hint of sentimentality as their only child left the house for a school that was miles and cities away. But he merely watched her with cold eyes for a moment before waving his hand, a blatant dismissal. That was it. There would be no good-bye or parting gift. It wasn't a question, it was a fact; she would excel and make him proud. A shiver shot down her spine at the thought of what would happen if her grades were unsatisfactory or she got into any kind of trouble. Both scenarios were highly unlikely, but still. It would be ugly.

She turned and exited without a word, letting the door fall shut behind her. Heaving a deep sigh, she kicked her shoes off and started back for her room to finish the last of her packing.

Lucy bid a tearful farewell to her maid early the next morning, who wiped at her tears not-so-subtly and reminded her a thousand and one times to write.

"I wish Master would permit us cellphones, they're so much faster for communication. But please write letters, Miss, and write many. Don't forget us over at that fancy school of yours. We'll miss you," Virgo sniffled.

Lucy smiled sadly. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon but she had a long train ride ahead of her.

"Of course, I could never forget you," she assured her maid. She took the steaming coffee and muffin from the housekeeper gratefully, was squeezed into many final farewell hugs, and started off down the long gravel driveway to where the car awaited to take her to the train station. Plue trotted faithfully at her heels, though he seemed more than a little tired and put off by the early hour. Though he looked like a normal, albeit albino, German Shepherd, Lucy knew her familiar was capable of much more than playing fetch.

Lucy continued waving until she got into the car. She glanced up at the large windows, wondering if her father was watching her go. She thought she caught just the barest glimpse of a silhouette in his office window. But as quickly as she spotted it, it was gone, and she was left to the long journey. She watched the large mansion and its lands disappear in the rear window, feeling no tug at her heart when the building disappeared. It hadn't felt like a home in a very long time after all.

Lucy bid farewell to the driver half an hour later and stepped onto the train platform, finally feeling the beginnings of excitement in her stomach. She fiddled with the crystal hung around her neck, reaching an absent hand down to stroke Plue's head as she waited for her train.

It was tradition in her mother's family that when a witch turned eight, they summoned a familiar and formed a contract. The type of familiar that responded to the summons was often indicative of the times. For example, her mother had summoned her own in a relatively peaceful period, and so she had received Nara, a familiar that could pass off as a common housecat. Nara had specialized in Seeing, capable of seeing through most objects and adept at spying and stealth.

But there had been tales of the witches in her family summoning familiars that specialized in healing during war. And when Lucy had summoned Plue, a familiar adept at battle and defense, there had been nervous murmurs. She was, to her relatives' knowledge, the first in the family to do so.

"There is no war, why a Hound?"

"It must be a sign…"

"I'm telling you, my cousin told me the King is slipping more into madness every day…"

Her father had approved, in his own distant way.

"At least it's good for something," was all he had said about the matter. Lucy had desperately wished for her mother that day; her grandmother had guided her through the ritual, though traditionally it was a ceremony overseen by mothers. The magic in her mother's family descended through the women, a rare matriarchal bloodline that wasn't seen often. They were an old family, with old magic.

But all Lucy knew was that when Plue rose in that circle, in his full, true form, she'd first felt fear, then rough, unbridled joy. He had looked at her for one long moment before he had leaned forward and touched his wet nose to her forehead.

Plue, he had rumbled, for her ears only (for the words exchanged between witch and familiar were sacred), and she had tried not to giggle at the rather silly name for a demon.

Her grandmother had overseen the ceremony, a job normally reserved for the mothers. But Lucy's mother had been gone by then.

"I wish your mother had been here to see it," she had murmured, stroking Lucy's hair with a trembling, wrinkled hand.

Now, she patted his head, feeling the content hum of his energy in her chest as he napped at her feet. She pulled out her phone, a new smartphone she had only been given after several, carefully worded requests to her father. The man was rather stubborn in his refusal of technology.

But she had reasoned that a phone would make forming the necessary connections at school much easier, and would also help her blend in to the outside world much easier.

Humming, she plugged in her headphones and started some of the music she had downloaded onto it. She wasn't allowed much contact with the outside world, and was probably pretty behind as far as music trends went, but she nodded her head along anyway, enjoying the rough words and beat. It was a far cry from the usual classical music she was required to listen to.

Their train arrived about fifteen minutes later and she was glad she had no trouble getting Plue on board. She wasn't keen on casting spells on Everydays; that is, people with no magic. Normal people, with what were probably blissfully normal lives. She watched her fellow passengers choose seats around her, some toting newspapers, others typing away at laptops and phones. They chattered among themselves, talking about weddings and new jobs and new houses. She leaned her head back and let her eyes fall shut just as the train began moving.

Her chest ached at the thought of a life with no magic.

They arrived in the late afternoon. Lucy stumbled off the train in what was probably the least graceful manner, yawning as she stretched. Plue also yawned beside her, casting her a resentful look for cooping him up on a train for so long.

"Hey, where we're going, you'll be able to roam free all day," she said with an eye roll. He merely sniffed and began padding towards the exit and she had no choice but to follow.

The town where the school had been built wasn't the largest city she'd ever been to. She made her way through it and to the edge easily enough. There, on a hill in the distance, was the school. A large, intimidating stone building. The local Everydays thought it was merely a school for "troubled" kids and were glad to keep their distance from it. Lucy trudged towards it, half regretting she hadn't just Portaled there like every other sane student.

Why had she wanted to experience so much of the outside world again?

She got to the front door flecked in mud from the previous night's rain and a howling, empty stomach. Plue looked absolutely miserable and she could feel his energy getting restless in her chest as he shot her more and more glares.

"We'll get some food into you soon," she murmured guiltily. Plue growled quietly in response.

She hovered for a few moments, unsure as to whether she should knock or just enter. The problem was solved for her when the doors swung open, revealing a comically short old man wearing an even funnier outfit. It was an eccentric clash of yellows and blues, and Lucy was reminded of the images Everyday's used to denote wizards. She suppressed a giggle.

"Ms. Heartfilia, I assume?" he asked politely, hands folded behind him.

She smiled tiredly and nodded, not too eager to exchange meaningless pleasantries at the moment.

"You're the last to arrive," the man chuckled cheerfully. "You must be tired and in need of a hot shower. Follow me, I'll take you to your dormitory."

She flushed at the fact she was the last student to arrive. Knew I should have Portaled, she chided herself.

"Oh!" the man suddenly cried, halting in his steps. Lucy startled, arms raising in a half-defensive pose.

She relaxed a few moments later as he continued, "If your familiar would like a meal, he can make his way to the kitchens."

She glanced at Plue, who huffed and took off, no doubt following the scent of food. He would follow her scent later to find her. The school made everything accessible for familiars, since her family wasn't the only one who summoned them. And if he couldn't find her, Lucy could always summon him. But he'd never failed to find her in all of their years together.

They began walking again, Lucy lugging her suitcase after her, adjusting the straps of her backpack uncomfortably. They were beginning to hurt after her long trek up the hill.

"By the way, I am Makarov, the headmaster," the man introduced himself.

Lucy nearly choked, embarrassed at both not guessing he was actually the headmaster and also meeting such a distinguished wizard looking like such a mess. Her hair had been thrown back into a messy pony tail and there was mud all over her legs. She hadn't been expecting to meet the headmaster so her outfit wasn't exactly suited for the occasion. Shorts and a simple t-shirt with a jacket she had tied around her waist. She didn't even want to think about the state her favorite boots were in; she'd have to use a cleaning spell later.

"Nice to meet you, headmaster," she stuttered out, completely off guard. Why had he come to greet her at the door herself?

"I try to greet all of the first years as they arrive," he continued, clearing up that question for her. "And a Heartfilia's arrival is usually considered a special occasion."

His eyes twinkled as he glanced up at her and she smiled, sensing he was lightly teasing.

"Thank you, Headmaster" she replied honestly. He had greeted her with little fanfare and she appreciated it. Most witches and wizards held deep respect for her family name and thus treated her with a certain degree of awe that was both tiresome and embarrassing.

"Oh, and call me Makarov," he told her with a wave of his hand. "Being too formal makes things awkward."

She giggled and he smiled at her, chuckling himself. They walked together quietly and Lucy took the chance to observe the building while also making note of their path. She didn't plan on getting lost like most first-years did.

While the outside, made of dark stone and wood, was intimidating, the inside was decorated much like other schools. At least, those Lucy had seen in her books; she had been homeschooled, her life a series of tutors and haughty professors who insisted she not eat until she had perfected a series of problems or finally memorized all the capitals in Fiore. She shook away the memories, turning her attention back to the building which had no memories associated with it just yet.

Her feet echoed on the stone steps as she climbed, despite the red carpet covering them. The wood was lighter than that outside and the main colors seemed to be red and gold. Lucy smiled at the framed paintings of past headmasters, imagining Makarov grumbling as he sat for his. Painted portraits cost a fortune and were an absolute pain to sit for. They often took hours. Lucy's own had taken six hours for the distinguished painter her father had chosen.

When Makarov finally told her they had reached the dormitories, she was surprised to find they weren't on the grounds somewhere or attached to the main building. The entire school seemed to be much larger on the inside than it appeared.

"You're on the second floor. I'm sure the girls will be able to direct you to your room. Orientation and classes start on Monday, as you know, and you'll receive your uniform tomorrow. I would recommend taking the day to get your books and explore as well."

"Thank you," she murmured again as she placed her hand on the door, suddenly hesitant to push it open.

Makarov sighed gently, glancing up at her with a kind smile.

"Things will be different here than you're used to," he hummed with the sort of knowing smile adults sometimes wore. But he didn't seem patronizing, just…nice.

Lucy started before she realized what he meant. Things will be better.

She smiled and nodded silently in understanding. He gave her one last wave before he vanished. Lucy jumped, not expecting the sudden use of magic. She hadn't even heard him say any sort of spell.

She shrugged and pushed the door open, climbing the two flights of stairs until she reached her door. Or wall, really. All the dorms were enchanted; where a door would normally be, there was a blank expanse of stone. It required magic blood to open. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her hand to it, muttering the password Makarov had told her. She watched as the stones parted silently, stepping through and watching again in wonder as they closed behind her.

Magic, she thought with a small smile. She turned to see that she had stepped into a good sized room, decorated with couches and numerous pillows, as well as a fireplace and a few tables. A girl was seated on one of the armchairs, legs thrown lazily over one arm while her head rest against the back. A large book was in her small hands and her eyes scanned the pages rapidly, only blinking when she adjusted her glasses. She glanced up as Lucy stepped through, flashing her a beaming smile.

"You must be the straggler!" she declared, closing the book and placing it on the table before she stood up, walking forward to greet Lucy. The blonde was surprised by how short the girl actually was; she was absolutely tiny, with short blue hair and wide eyes. Her smile was sweet and genuine and Lucy relaxed a bit under the warmth of it.

"I'm Levy McGarden," the blue haired girl continued. "Welcome to Fairy Tail!"

Lucy smiled in return, suddenly keenly aware of the mud on her legs and the uncomfortable way her shirt was sticking to her. Her backpack seemed to weigh tons.

"Hi," she answered. "The Headmaster said you could direct me to my room?"

"Of course," Levy said cheerily, turning on her heel and gesturing for the girl to follow her. There were only two corridors, Levy leading her down the right hand one.

"These are all the girls' rooms; you'll see that there's five rooms, ten of us total. The boys are in the other corridor but we haven't seen much of them. I'm guessing they all went out exploring as soon as they put their bags down."

Lucy half-listened as Levy babbled away, suddenly realizing she had never heard her family name before. McGarden wasn't in any of the historical books she had studied, nor in any of the family trees.

"You said your name was McGarden?" she asked, interrupting Levy. She smiled in apology, too tired to really care for formalities.

"Yes," Levy hummed. "My parents are Everyday's and our distant relations that have magic blood are a very small family; their line is disappearing. Hence why you probably aren't familiar with my family name."

Lucy nodded, both surprised and not. While magical children born to Everyday's weren't common, it made sense that Levy's family name wasn't well known. In their world, bloodline was everything. It was, however, refreshing. Lucy was glad there was someone who wouldn't ooh and ahh over her own family name.

"How did your parents take it, when you guys found out?" Lucy asked. She had never met someone born to Everyday's. She knew other magical people looked down on them, turned their noses up at their "impure blood". But in Lucy's book, anyone who could cast a spell was one of them, no matter their family.

"Very well, actually. They always knew about my cousins and I'd been having a lot of 'accidents', so when my aunt came to visit and told them, it wasn't a huge shock. My mom had already suspected it for a while, I'm sure."

"What's your name again? I didn't catch it," Levy said, tilting her head to the side. They had stopped in front of the third door down. Lucy fumbled with the key she'd been sent in the mail, turning it jerkily before opening the door.

"Sorry, I'm a little tired. Long day," she apologized. Levy merely giggled, waving away her apology. She shoved her way in, dropping her backpack on her bed with a relieved sigh. The room was simple enough; a bed, desk, closet, small nightstand, a dresser and a large glass door leading to a small balcony. Golden light streamed through the door and Lucy realized distantly just how late it was.

"I'm Lucy," she said finally, turning to face Levy. "Lucy Heartfilia."

Levy's eyes widened and Lucy cursed inwardly. She really didn't want to deal with it just then.

"Oh wow, now that's a big name," Levy replied. There was a beat of silence before another smile spread across the smaller girl's face.

"So tell me," she started, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Are you really descended from angels?"

Lucy was surprised by the laugh that burst from her. Levy laughed with her.

"Really, there's so many stories circulating about your family, it's hard to separate the myth from the truth," Levy chuckled honestly.

"Well, it's an old myth in my family too, but personally I think it's just that, a myth. I mean, do I look like I'd be descended from angels?" she asked, gesturing to the mess on her legs and body.

Levy giggled again, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"You do look a little rough. Do you want to unpack a bit or do you want me to show you to the showers right now?"

"Showers, please," Lucy answered immediately. The thought of hot water washing the dirt and muck away, streaming down her shoulders and soothing the aches, it was enough to make the train ride worth it.

Ten minutes later she was practically singing for joy as she scrubbed her body and lathered her hair in shampoo. She wasn't exactly sure how she'd managed to get dirt in her hair, but so it was. As she washed, she hummed along to a song she'd listened to on her way there, in a much better mood after meeting Levy and talking to her a bit. The girl had proven to be rather cheerful but not exactly the prying type. Lucy appreciated it.

After rubbing some lotion on her skin and delighting at the fact she now smelled like a girl rather than a puddle of mud, she made her way back to the dorm, practically skipping the whole way there.

Levy looked up from her book once more, grinning.

"You look much better," she remarked.

"I feel much better," Lucy sighed. Her eyes shifted to the girl beside her, her hair a darker shade of blue than Levy's.

"Hello," she introduced herself. "I'm Lucy."

The girl smiled, a little shakily, and dipped her head.

"J-Juvia," she stuttered out, cheeks flushing. Lucy smiled encouragingly, moving to settle on the couch beside her.

"Lockser, right?" she asked. Juvia flashed her a surprised glance and Lucy shrugged.

"I remember a lot from my lessons. Your family makes the most beautiful art."

Juvia smiled then, a real smile, a little stronger, a little more confident.

"Thank you," she murmured, finally making eye contact, wide blue eyes meeting brown.

"No problem," Lucy waved away the gratitude, standing once more. "I'm going to unpack my stuff. When is dinner?"

"Headma – er, Makarov said it'd be around six-thirty," Levy informed her distractedly, eyes focused on her book once more. That gave Lucy about an hour to unpack.

"We'll c-come and get you," Juvia said.

Lucy flashed her a smile.

"Thanks."

Lucy didn't meet the boys until she was just about to leave for dinner. Levy was telling her about the story she was reading, a tale of knights and dragons that Lucy was tempted to ask to borrow. She had just been about to tell Levy of a novel she had finished over the summer, the wall opening in front of her, when what seemed like a wall of muscle stumbled right into her.

With a rather unladylike yelp, she lost her balance, and in the most ungraceful way, crumbled to the floor.

"Shit! Sorry!" the wall of mass stammered, hands suddenly on her shoulders and waist, lifting her back up like she weighed no more than a paper doll.

"Idiot," a different voice growled, deeper than the first. "If you weren't in such a damn hurry."

"Are you okay?" the first voice asked, voice panicked. Lucy looked up into a pair of green eyes, which were frantically scanning her for injuries. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Lucy muttered, stepping back. His hands were warm and heat radiated from his body, which she realized was pressed against her own. He was holding her against his chest, staring down at her concernedly. She shivered when his touch left her body. "I'm fine."

"Way to make friends, dumbass," yet another voice snorted disdainfully.

'Dumbass' snarled back at the boy, who had black hair and cold grey eyes, before turning back to her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again and Lucy smiled this time, now that she was away from him and his intoxicating warmth.

"I'm okay," she reassured him, gesturing to herself. "No blood, so I'll live."

"I'm Natsu," the boy told her with a sharp, charming grin. Lucy's eyes roamed over his pink, unruly hair and tanned skin, the way white fangs poked from beneath his upper lip, his toned arms. His red t-shirt did a poor job at hiding his physique. She swallowed, hard.

"Dragneel?" she said, guessing from her vague memories of a rumor she'd overheard years ago. The stuffy nobles gossiping had been disdainful of the leader of such a distinguished family name adopting an orphan from nowhere, with no apparent magical abilities. Lucy had thought it was sweet. And if he was here, at this school, she was also guessing his magical abilities had surfaced at some point.

His green eyes widened, lips turning downward in a frown. She briefly mourned the smile on his face.

"How'd you - ?"

"Lucky guess," she interrupted him, smiling at the other boys as she introduced herself.

"I'm Lucy."

"Gajeel," the other boy grunted. Lucy struggled to keep from craning her neck to look up at him. He wasn't just tall, he was muscled and massive compared to Levy, who stood right beside him. Next to him, she looked positively puny. Piercings marked his brow, nose, and ears, and Lucy struggled to suppress the instinctive fear that rose in her stomach as his red eyes met her own. Plue's energy growled in her chest, sensing her discomfort. She soothed him quietly, smiling up at Gajeel.

"Redfox, I think," she hummed, tapping a finger to her chin. It was hard to mistake those eyes. His father was just as, if not more, intimidating than his son.

Gajeel grinned, dipping his head.

"You know your families," he acknowledged. She laughed lightly, ignoring the churn of her stomach.

"I've got a brain for it."

"And tutors, I'm guessing," the other boy interrupted, face cool and stony. Lucy turned to him, dreading what was coming. Because now, looking fully into his chiseled face, she recognized him. And she had no doubt he recognized her from the balls they had both attended. She cursed her lack of preparedness; she should have guessed the son of another large magic family would be attending Fairy Tail.

"She's a Heartfilia," he clarified. Gajeel's jaw dropped, while Natsu just looked confused and Levy looked irritated.

"I don't get it," Natsu said, looking around.

"That wasn't your information to share, Gray," Levy chastised.

Gray shrugged, an elegant yet careless gesture at the same time.

"I'm not sure why you'd try to hide a name like that," he said, yawning. "If it were me, I'd be throwing it around and cashing in."

"Your name is nothing to sneer at," Lucy shot back. "Fullbuster carries its fair share of weight."

Gray shrugged again, waving her comment away.

"Nothing compared to Heartfilia."

"I'm a McGarden, in case anyone cared," Levy piped up, hand raised like she was in class, earning a glare from Gray, a soft giggle from Lucy, and a snort of laughter from Gajeel.

"I still don't get it," Natsu said, stretching an arm to scratch the back of his head. He squinted at Lucy, who shifted uncomfortably beneath the openness of his gaze. Lucy softened at the clear confusion on his face.

"The Heartfilia family is rich, idiot," Gajeel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I'm not talking our family rich, I'm talking dirty, stinking rich. You'd know this if you ever paid attention in class."

"And? That's just money." Natsu said, still just as perplexed. Lucy poured fervent blessings upon him in her mind.

"And nothing," she cut off Gray's next comment shortly, sending him a glare. "Gray recognizes me from the numerous balls we were both forced to attend."

"They still throw balls?" Natsu gawked.

"Unfortunately," Lucy muttered, brushing past the group to leave the dorm and start down the stairs. Levy followed her, sticking by her side and throwing her a reassuring smile of solidarity. Lucy's steps faltered a bit as she realized she had no idea where the mess hall was, before Levy began to lead the way confidently.

"I've never heard the McGarden name," Gajeel commented in what he probably thought was a nonchalant way.

"It's nonexistent," Levy replied tersely. Lucy smirked, silently agreeing to not spill Levy's own blood secret. It wasn't her business to tell.

"Enough of this family nonsense," Natsu declared loudly. "What's for dinner?"

Gray groaned. "All you ever think about is food."

Lucy laughed and Levy giggled alongside her. The blonde had no doubt that was true.

Gajeel snorted. "If you concentrated on your magic as much as you did your food, you'd be the greatest wizard in Fiore."

"I am the grea-" He was silence by what sounded like a pretty heavy smack.

"Shut up," Gray sighed.

Natsu growled and Lucy glanced behind her just in time to catch him swiping at Gray, who dodged the blow and reared his hand back for a real punch.

"Try it, Ice Princess," Natsu roared and Gajeel groaned.

"Not again," he muttered.

"Are they always like this?" Lucy asked Levy quietly.

"From what little I've seen, yes," Levy answered tiredly.

Lucy sighed. It was going to be a long year. Yet somehow, as she glanced back again to see Natsu shoving Gray and Gray trying to trip him, she couldn't imagine it any other way.

#yanna speaks #text #my writing #fairy tail #nalu #gajevy #gruvia #fanfic #B&M - chapter 1 #constellunaa

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