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ijusthavesomanyblorbos · 2 years

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Tell us the SG LL ideas

OKAY! SO!

Shattered Glass Lost Light. Here's what I'm thinking.

First of all, it's Megatron's ship. After the war, he'd want to leave Cybertron (just like Optimus did in canon.) Cybertron is already divided enough without the faction leaders around polarizing people, and he figures staying would only make it harder for the Autobots to assimilate into society. (Mentioned here)

But he loves his people, and he's not about to give up on them because the war is over. So! He starts a postwar unity initiative in the form of.... bababanah!!! The Lost Light!

Their official mission is to find and contact all the colony worlds of civilians sent away at the beginning of the war. (Mentioned here) Their unofficial mission is to serve as an example of (ex) Decepticons and (ex) Autobots working together. A beacon of hope for a new age!

(And also, if they just so happen to find the Knights of Cybertron, gosh, that would sure be a great way to try all those war criminals they have!)

(Megatron keeps that in mind)

It... only kind of works out.

See, the current leader of Cybertron just so happens to be our main man Prowl. (Mentioned here). And he most definitely is not excited about this. For one thing, a divided populous is an easily controlled populous. Paranoia is power. And while he does want what's good for Cybertron, he's not about to make things harder for himself. So he'll be having no symbols of unity or peace, thank you very much.

And for another, he doesn't want anything to happen that's going to paint Megatron in a favorable light. Megatron, who is currently the biggest challenger to his right to rule. (A right in which Megatron has no interest in- but better safe than sorry.)

On the other hand, of course, sending Megatron out into the dark reaches of space for years on end is certainly an appealing idea.

With this in mind, Prowl does three things.

The first being to compose a crew list filled with the biggest failures, write offs, crazies, criminals and crackpots in Autobot history. Megatron is a great leader but... well, a Commander is only as strong as his weakest subordinate.

The second being to attach a certain infamous Decepticon to the bottom. One that is holding a rather violent grudge towards Megatron. One that's supposed to be in prison. One that is one of the strongest megalomaniacs in the decepticon repertoire, who will definitely be causing some problems later.

And the third, to demand an Autobot addition to the command of the ship.

Rodimus Prime, who is under strict instructions to make the mission as big of a failure as physically possible.

(The fact that Rodimus is heir to the Primacy, and therefore the heir to Optimus is not a small part of his decision. The more threats to his crown off Cybtertron, the better. Or as the humans would put it, two birds with one stone.)

At launch, the ship's command looks like this:

Megatron, Captain.

Rodimus, Second in Command (Contested Co-Captain)

Drift, Third in Command (Previously Deadlock, an Autobot combatant. Now, loyal to Megatron)

And Ultra Magnus, (who has no idea what Prowl is planning. He just needs a job now that the war is over.) Ship Enforcer.

Prowl sends the ship off with a smile and a wave- He's confident in Rodimus, and if all else fails, Overlord should work as a fine backup.

My thought process writing this was definitely inspired by the Scavengers- because what I really love about the Lost Light is the found family aspect, and you kind of can't enjoy that as much if everyone is just an asshole (more so than already). So, I just wanted to take everyone's character, and shift it slightly to the left, and then change the outside circumstances and then BINGO! You've got a shattered glass.

The main point here is not to be an evil LL. The Lost Light goes through most of the same major story beats, and the end point is the same. But by taking the negative character traits of the Autobots, and turning them up to 100%, we make that same end so much more impactful. (For example, Rodimus's screw ups being just as bad, but purposeful! Spicy.) Less evil, more.... angsty.

(I think that's just my tagline for SG! at this point.)

Anyways! So that's that. I might expand upon some individual character's changes later on. But for now, the rest is up to your imagination :)

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luxekook · 5 years

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ego | jjk | harry potter au

⇥ pairing: gryffindor jeongukk x hufflepuff reader

⇥ genre: harry potter AU, smut, fluff, angst

⇥ summary: in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

⇥ warnings: 18+, dirty talk, light smut, cursing

The wind whirled around me as I careened towards the glistening goal posts, imagining the opposing team’s Keeper darting back and forth in hopes of blocking the Quaffle that was currently tucked under my arm. I feigned left and the imaginary keeper followed suit. I threw right – Quaffle sailing through the rightmost gold hoop.

I smiled and dove down past the posts to catch up with my own throw. Even though it was still the first week of the new term, I was determined to prove my newly acquired captain-status. Hufflepuff hadn’t had a female captain in ages; and, paired with that, I was only a 6th year.

Luckily, I had a strong team behind me with mostly returning players who I knew would fiercely support me. Us Puffs stuck together. It was inherently in our blood to be loyal as hell to our own, and I thanked Merlin for that every day since receiving the captain’s badge.

As soon as I had hopped on the Hogwarts’ Express a few days prior, I had immediately been swept up in a giant bear hug by Jeong Yunho, one of the Hufflepuff beaters.

“Oh, captain! My captain!” he had dramatically cried, spinning me around. His Dead Poet’s Society reference was not lost on me since I had a muggle parent with excellent taste in movies. Similar reactions from the rest of the team followed suit over the course of the train ride and the Welcoming Feast.

Trials for our only open position of Seeker would take place this weekend with practices immediately starting Monday. We had high hopes for redemption this season after being crushed by Slytherin’s team of goons early on in the Cup tournament.

The Slytherin team’s head hooligan Kang Dokyun led his team with a nasty blend of intimidation and violent tactics. I was convinced that Slytherin didn’t even hold trials and that they just lined up the Slytherin boys, picking out the biggest of the lot. Basically, Slytherin was strong, but slow and slightly uncoordinated. We could beat them by exploiting their weaknesses – of that I was certain.

Ravenclaw would be a bit harder to conquer. Their team played with a level of elegance and intelligence that was so utterly Ravenclaw that even us Puffs got annoyed. Ravenclaw’s captain Yoon Jisoo constructed tactical plays so tricky that she was already recruited to play for Puddlemore next year. Their team was smart, but not completely unbeatable. The Ravenclaws sometimes got so ingrained in their methodical maneuvers that they failed to notice some of their opponents’ counterattacks. That was how they lost the Cup last term to Gryffindor.

Gryffindor was our toughest competition. Winning the Cup last term, the Gryffindor team was a nauseatingly perfect balance between brains and brawn. Their captain Jeon Jeongguk, now a 7th year, was renowned for his tyrannical practice regime that he put his team through. We’d only played Gryffindor once in the regular season last year, and we had held our own for a while until we started getting tired and they didn’t. Seems like Jeongguk knew his shit when it came to conditioning. Something that I was determined to emulate with my own team.

Jeongguk was also the best damn Keeper that Hogwarts had seen in a long time, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the looks of the professional Quidditch scouts that avidly attended his matches. He was way bigger than a typical Keeper – extremely tall with broad shoulders and giant paws for hands. However, the only thing bigger than his stature and talent was his fucking ego.

He carried himself like he was the king of the school, and, unfortunately, most people treated him like it. Girls especially flocked to him – mainly for two reasons: 1) Jeongguk was undoubtedly hot, and 2) he held the promise of a rich future. Personally, I cared for neither of those traits considering his appalling personality and pride.

That damned ego would be his downfall this season. I would make sure of it, I thought as I circled around the stadium and then landed to get a drink.

I was definitely above average on the Quidditch talent scale. Holding the current school record for most assists in a season, I considered myself the glue of the Hufflepuff team – a fact that our Head of House obviously agreed with. However, no one really talked about the glue of a team, they talked about the flashy glitter and the gold stars. I was fine with that. Being the underdog was nothing new to a Hufflepuff, and I planned on using that to our advantage this season. Who said Puffs couldn’t be a little devious?

I smirked to myself as I grabbed my broom, ready to get back to practicing. This would be our fucking year.

“Hey,” a deceptively sweet voice rang out from above me, “You mind sharing the pitch? I need to practice.”

My mood soured. I knew who that was. Kicking off the ground, I flew to face him, “Sure thing, Jeon, just stay out of my way.”

It was almost as if I’d slapped him across the face, “Excuse me?” he choked out, “Do I know you?”

Unbelievable. Jeongguk’s head was evidently so far up his own ass he couldn’t recognize opponents he’d been playing for years. “I guess not,” I countered. And with a flick of my ponytail, I took off towards the opposite end of the pitch.

Unfortunately, he followed, “Are you a Gryffindor? If so, you should come to tryouts tomorrow. You’re pretty fast and we need a new Chaser.”

“Not a Gryffindor,” I called out, dipping low to the ground to scoop up my old practice Quaffle, “But I am a Chaser.”

Jeongguk was still tailing me, and I pulled to a stop to face him, “I thought you had to practice?”

He mirrored my position and crossed his arms. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from noticing how his biceps flexed and how a hint of his famed phoenix tattoo curled up his neck. Merlin, even I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck. The recent summer months seemed to have blessed his skin with a glowing tan that accentuated the warmth of his dark eyes. It also seemed like he forgot what a haircut was as I watched the wind tousle his slightly curling hair.

“I do,” his eyes were narrowed as he cleared his throat, “I just have to make sure you’re not spying for another team.”

All thoughts of him being fine flew out the Owlery as I scowled. I refused to be intimidated by some arrogant asshole, “Did you not hear me when I said to stay on the opposite end of the pitch, Jeon? What kind of self-respecting spy would ask that?”

“You’re a Slytherin,” Jeongguk declared, his tone too sure for my liking.

He was really aggravating me now, and it took a lot for a Puff to get pissed off, “So, just because I have a semblance of a backbone, I’m a Slytherin? You need to brush up on your House knowledge.”

He was quiet, his expression contemplative, his jaw clenched. His eyes were scanning me with an intensity I was not sure I liked. And then he did something I liked even less: “I propose a game,” his mouth twisted upwards in a smirk, “You say you’re a Chaser?”

I gave a slight tilt of my chin in affirmation. He resumed, “Well, then you must know I’m a Keeper.” He paused, grinning wickedly, waiting for me to react to the double entendre. Eyebrows raised at my pointed silence, he continued, “And we both need to practice… So how ‘bout you try to score on me and for every shot I block you have to answer one of my questions.”

This motherfucker right here. I summoned my inner Helga to give me the strength to deal with this Gryffindor prick, “Say I was to agree to this, what would I get if I score on you?”

The laugh I got in response made all thoughts of remaining a kind and patient Puff evaporate faster than a weak Patronus.

He was still laughing when he noticed I looked ready to Avada him wandless, “Okay, okay. What do you want if you score?” He barely got the words out in between chuckles.

“To come to a Gryffindor practice.”

That shut him up real fast, “No fucking way. I don’t need you distracting my players.”

My nose crinkled, “Distracting? I would just be sitting in the stands, you prick.”

His jaw ticked as he rolled his eyes, “You could be on the furthest corner of the pitch and you’d still distract them, jagi.”

“Don’t call me that. And, pray tell, why I would distract them?” Our brooms were now practically touching as we had instinctively moved closer to one another. I could see the sweat glistening on his brow and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. Merlin, he was potent.

“Because,” Jeongguk paused, acting like this was the most obvious answer in the world, “You’re hot.”

I blinked. And blinked again, “Are you serious?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, don’t answer that, Jeon,” I brushed right over his attempt to answer my rhetorical question, “So, do we have a deal or not? If you’re the esteemed Keeper that you clearly think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to block all my shots, should it?”

My words echoed around us. He looked conflicted, but I knew his ego would not let my challenge go, “Deal. Five shots from the penalty mark.”

He flew towards the goal posts, “Looking forward to getting my questions answered, love,” he bellowed back at me.

I mentally flipped him off as I took off after him, clutching my Quaffle.

Sending out a plea to Merlin, Helga and everyone in between, I pulled to a stop at the penalty mark and pondered how I wanted to play this. He obviously thought he would save all five attempts. I spared him a glance and glower as I notice he was slouching on his broom with a lazy smirk, clearly not taking me as a serious threat.

Fine, I would just have to hustle him. He was asking for it at this point.

I got into formation. As much as it would pain me to mess up this shot on purpose, I knew that I had to in order to make my plan work.

Taking off towards the posts, my movement caused Jeongguk to finally move into a somewhat defensive position. I feigned right, doing so in a way too obvious manner. Hurling the Quaffle towards the top hoop, I watched expectantly as he deflected it with just a slight flick of his hand.

“Come on,” Jeongguk laughed, “You can do better than that, jagi.” He flew over to me and when I stretched to take back the Quaffle he now held in his hand, he shifted it out of reach, “Uh-uh, nope. It’s question time. What’s your name?”

How predictable. “It’s (y/n). Now give me the Quaffle.”

“Last name?” Jeongguk kept the Quaffle out of my hands.

“That’s a separate question, Jeon. You never specified that I give you my full name.” It was my turn to smirk as he threw the Quaffle back at me and headed back to the posts mumbling about loopholes and how I must’ve been a Ravenclaw.

I lined back up for the second shot. I had to make this one a little bit better than the last to show that I was trying, but not too much better that he’d be prepared for my final shots.

I ducked down, twisting around to head towards the right post with my full focus on the hoop. I launched the Quaffle. Jeongguk swooped up to catch it in a way that was entirely too elaborate for such a lame throw. He was clearly showing off – an action that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the meaning behind.

Jeongguk made his way over to me, grinning, “Second question, jagi. Full name, please.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” I muttered, eyes scanning his face for signs of recognition and hands grabbing the Quaffle away from him.

He looked puzzled, “(y/l/n)? Why does that sound so familiar?”

Before he could think on it further, I pushed his shoulder, “Back to the posts. You got your answer.”

Well, I had attempted to push his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch at my shove. His eyes darted to where my hand now laid on his chest. I removed it faster than a Wronski Feint, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up my arm.

Our eyes connected and his were blazing as his mouth crept into a slow smile, “Like your hands on me.” Before I could formulate a reply, he flew off and I resolved that I would make this next shot as if my life depended on it.

We faced each other. I shifted the Quaffle from hand to hand and took off towards him. I gave him no tells, no feints, nothing. This seemed to throw him off for a split second, but that second was all I needed to send the Quaffle sailing through the bottom hoop.

“What the fuck was that?” Jeongguk yelled as he got all up in my face.

I bit back a smile. “Beginner’s luck?” I quipped, loving how his face had darkened perceptibly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can pick up some more tips at your practice.”

Unable to keep my grin in check any longer, I smile widely as he lets out a stream of curses that would make even my old crotchety aunt blush.

We resumed our positions. This time he seemed more alert and watchful. He was getting wary of me, despite my claim that it was just luck. Maybe he knew better after all…

“That won’t happen again, (y/n). Don’t get used to it!” he shouted from the posts.

…Or not.

I took off. Luck be damned. I zigzagged back and forth towards him. Throwing the Quaffle up in the air, I quickly rolled off my broom, sharply grabbing its end and swinging it up to hit the Quaffle mid-air through the center goalpost. A perfectly executed Finbourgh Flick. Regaining my seat on my broom I sailed back to the penalty line and turned back to face Jeongguk.

He looked utterly gobsmacked, “Beginner’s luck? Beginner’s fucking luck? Who the fuck are you?”

I grinned victoriously at his wounded ego, “You know my name, Jeon. Now you can use it at two practices.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n)… fucking hell, you’re the new Hufflepuff captain,” he gawked at me.

“Bingo, Gryff,” I laughed, “Took you long enough.”

“Why did I think you were a bloke? I would have remembered such a—” he cut himself off, “You hustled me! There is no way I’m letting you into my practices now.”

We were nose to nose now as I responded, “A deal’s a deal. I thought you Gryffindors were all about honor.”

His face was thunderous, “And I thought you Hufflepuffs were all about fairness.”

“We are,” I said plainly, “We just don’t take lightly to intimidation. Now come on, we’ve got one round left.”

A range of emotions moved across his face to settle in a heated look that I couldn’t quite decipher, “Fine, jagi,” his molten gaze darted to my mouth, “Give it your best shot.”

Swallowing hard, I shook my head, trying to clear my brain of entirely too inappropriate thoughts of me and Jeongguk. As much as I attempted to refocus on making my final shot, my attention wasn’t fully there.

And I fucked it up. Jeongguk dove to catch my throw mid-air, and he sped towards me triumphantly, “Slipping already? What was that?”

I blushed. He noticed.

“Come on,” he said, “I need a drink and then you need to answer my last question.”

I followed him to the ground, cursing my treacherous body for reacting so obviously. My subconscious battled:

��He’s a player!’ the imaginary Dumbledore on my right shoulder boomed.

‘Kiss him. Now!’ hissed the fictitious Voldemort from the other side.

However, all thoughts evacuated my brain at the sight of Jeongguk peeling off his shirt and taking a long sip from his water bottle. My traitorous eyes flew over his torso. I took in his defined abs, his chiseled arms and his fucking beautiful phoenix tattoo that spanned the entirety of his left shoulder, left upper back, and a portion of his neck.

Then I noticed his eyes were watching me right back. And they were all to amused to be innocent… “Are you seducing me?”

He spit out his mouthful of water, laughing, “Why? Is this working for you?”

My eyes now resembled slits as I glared at him, “Is that your last question?”

“No!” His response came so fast I jolted back on impulse, “No, it’s not…”

He trailed off as he prowled towards me. I stepped back. He kept coming. I stepped back further.

“Why are you running, jagi?” his words were too soft and too intense for my liking. I took another step back and bumped up against the stands. His grin in response was predatory as he caged me in between the stands and his body, his arms on either side of my head.

“Nowhere to run now, little Hufflepuff…” he dragged a finger along the hollows of my throat. He definitely felt the rapid pounding of my pulse, his eyes darkening to the point that they almost seemed black.

I glared defiantly at him, refusing to be daunted by his size or his words. He smirked, “Your last question: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”

I stopped breathing. He waited, a look of uncertainty flickered on his face so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it.

That little flare of vulnerability – that should not have been as appealing to me as it was – helped me to regain some of my bearings, “And how much do you want to kiss me? I need a scale of reference.”

He smiled crookedly as he leaned in even further, lips brushing against me as he whispered into my neck, “So fucking bad.”

His tongue darted across my skin as he dragged it up towards my ear. Biting it softly, he murmured, “Well?”

Fuck it all.

My hands latched onto his shoulders and his head snapped up. Raising to my tiptoes, I kissed him. He let out a rough groan, sounding like I was killing him. His hands slid down my body to squeeze my ass before hoisting me up. My legs circled his lean hips as his teeth caught my bottom lip in a faint bite. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. His hips pressed into mine, drawing a moan from my lips. He smiled against my mouth.

I nipped his lip now in retribution, but it seemed to only urge him on. One hand came up to remove my hair-tie, flinging it over his shoulder. I made a noise of protest, but he just kissed me harder.

How the fuck was he holding me up with one hand?

I prided myself on being a pretty thick bitch, and he was over here acting like I weighed nothing. My fingernails slid down his back, raking over the hard muscles and feeling how they flexed and shifted under my touch.

I don’t know how long we spent making out against the stands, but soon enough we heard voices coming from around the corner. Ripping my mouth away from his, I jumped out of his embrace, landing on shaky legs.

His arm wrapped around my waist as he steadies me. He was breathing just as hard as me and I could feel his heartbeat racing. I tugged away from him to retrieve my hair-tie from the ground and put my now wild hair back into its ponytail.

I could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on me all the while. I looked at him. His lips were swollen, his hair was a disheveled mess, his neck was displaying a rather nice hickey that I was sure was mirrored several times over on my own neck. A rare feeling of pride shot through me, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I shook my head and placed a finger over his lips.

“I’ll see you at your practice, Jeon.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed my broom and walked off.

As I strode away, I heard him grumbling under his breath: “Everybody warns you about the Slytherins. Nobody fucking warns you about the Hufflepuffs. Fucking hell…”

I smiled all the way back to the Common Room.

#bts #bts smut #bts imagine #bts fic #jeongguk #jungkook #bangtan #jjk x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #harry potter au #gryffindor jungkook #jungkook imagine

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deepperplexity · 3 years

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Black Clouds

Title: Black Clouds

Request: Hi! I just wanna start off by saying i love you’re writing ❤️ I was wondering if you could write a snape x fem reader where the reader is thinking about committing suicide because she feels like she's not worthy of living and she believes that he could have someone better and Sev notice that something is wrong and uses legilimency to find out the issue because she doesn't want to open up with anyone and he's shocked by what he sees and tries to help her. I'm sorry if that's too specific and if you don't feel like writing it, don't worry ❤️

A/N: First of all, before I say anything about this request, I want to tell EVERYONE who feels suicidal to find and ask for help. YOU ARE NOT UNWORTHY OF LIFE. This request hits home for me and I was deliberating if I should write this or not as it’s such a sensitive subject for me personally. But, that’s actually all the more reason to write it. Suicide is a hush-hush subject in society when it really should not be - this is something we ALL need to talk about and we ALL need to make sure that everyone feels safe enough to ask for help. And, as you all know by now, I am all for writing about sensitive/taboo subjects that need to be addressed more.

Secondly, if you are suicidal or harm yourself in any way - THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE LESS WORTHY. You are worth all happiness, help, support and care in the world - you have a place in this world and it is ever-changing. What is today may be different tomorrow, what happened yesterday may impact what happens the day after tomorrow. There is always a new dawn to meet and a new sunset to cherish. If you are reading this, you are alive and fighting - go you! Like, seriously, it is fucking hard to be alive in this world but you are doing it! You are fighting, even on bad days, you are fighting and winning! Thank you for being here, thank you for staying with us, thank you for gracing the world with your presence and life! ❤️

As I mentioned this hits home and I will do my best to do this request justice as it is so damn important. I do want to mention this is fiction and I do not personally stand behind all the things that characters do even if I write it. Characters have their own will and sometimes that overrules my will as a writer (also, sometimes it’s just needed to get a good story). To intrude in one’s mind is not something I find to be a good thing - but as my loyal readers already know its a thing I use often because its fun to write and Severus just wants to bloody do it all the time; that man as no sense of privacy boundaries when it comes to others, let me tell you… So just keep this in mind whenever you read fiction - just because someone wrote it does not mean it is something they stand behind or condone. If that were the case the world would be way more bonkers - just think of all the murders and rape and war and devilry stuff authors write about O.O

+A/N: I was writing with a female reader in mind but as I edited this I noticed nothing actually states that it is a female so the reader is GN - I hope Nonny doesn’t mind.

Pairing: Snape x Reader

Setting: Post Second War, Spring 2003, Your home at Rosewood Hill

Word count: 3540

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Angst, (Age Difference), Fluff, Mental Health, PTSD, Anxiety, Emotional Rollercoaster, Kissing...

Prologue:

You, like many others who had survived the horrible battle at Hogwarts in 1998, suffered from a series of illnesses. Survivors guilt, depression, anxiety, panic attacks and lately the thoughts had begun to overwhelm you. Collectively one could call it severe PTSD but to simply group all the different emotions and disorders like that simplified it a bit too much. Some parts were PTSD, of course, but some things had haunted you long before the battle. Like your struggle with self-worth, your anxiety and the intrusive thoughts that popped up more often than not. The fact that you had been mere 19 years old when you fought for life, justice and all things good probably made the experience even harder to handle.

Fortunately for you, something good had come from the war. Love. Your previous professor, Severus Snape, had been severely injured - actually, he had been at death's doorstep - but pulled through after several months of care where you as a nurse partook in his recovery daily. He made a full recovery under yours and others care and once he was free to leave the hospital he had asked you out on a date. You had accepted happily and then everything just sort of happened. You fell in love, got married, moved to Rosewood Hill and renovated a rundown house together as money was tight - but it all turned out quite good in the end. Well, except the fact that things weren’t good. Not at all…

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

You had been unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning. Flashes of memories and the sound of screaming paired with falling bodies kept you company. It had gotten worse since Christmas four months ago. That was when it had snowballed out of control completely. You blinked and sighed before you carefully left the bed, and Severus, behind to get some coffee as you tried to keep the intruding thoughts at bay.

Lately, despite all the love and happiness in your life, you had been feeling less and less worthy. Of life, of Severus, of everything. You did your best to hide how you felt. You smiled, you laughed, you baked and cleaned, did all of your hobbies and made sure Severus wouldn’t see how you were hurting inside. Made sure he wouldn’t notice how tormented you were by the mere fact you were alive.

He had enough to deal with, he was so strong that it nearly brought tears to your eyes. He had been through pure hell. Had struggled and fought with all his might year after year while he was hurting, so deeply. You couldn’t fathom how he did it, how he survived and lived on. How he could stand it all. All the thoughts and emotions. Everything. What you felt simply couldn’t be anything to measure with against what he must have felt for so long. It pained you that your thoughts were so selfish, that you had such pain and hurt inside of you when he had a stronger right to claim such emotions. Weakling, worthless, unuseful piece of garbage...

The coffee burned its way down your throat and you winched slightly. “Careful, love,” the gruff voice of your husband echoed out. It startled you as he always slept late and the sun wasn’t even up yet. You smiled at him as you tried to arrange your face into a happy one. He arched a brow at you and you chirped out a ‘good morning, honey’ to him. He grumbled at you, “no morning is good before nine.” You simply laughed at him as he grabbed a giant mug and poured it full with black coffee.

“Why are you up so early?” He grumbled after a few sips, you shrugged and cradled your own cup of coffee in your hands. “I just couldn’t sleep, figured I’d get a headstart on the day,” you smiled out and he huffed. “You’re mad,” he grumbled and you shrugged again. “Why are you up?” “You left, the bed felt empty.” You smiled at him but couldn’t help the piercing thought that he would sleep better if you weren’t by his side at all.

You snuggled up on the couch with a thick book, something to escape into. Something to cradle and lose yourself in for a few hours as Saturday passed by ever so slowly. You didn’t notice that Severus took up a place right beside you before he placed your legs over his own with gentle movements. He made sure the blanket covered your feet and then held a steady grip around your calves. You glanced up at him from the book with a smile etched to your lips. He arched a brow at you.

“What?” you asked quizzically, his hands squeezed your leg for a moment before you felt his tender fingers stroke back and forth. “That is the question I would like to ask you, love.” You raised your brows ever so slightly before you closed the book. “What do you mean?” “What’s wrong, love?” he asked in a hushed tone and you smiled reassuringly at him. “Nothing’s wrong,” you said, “why would anything be wrong, darling?”

Severus looked at you for a moment before he let out a small breath through his nose. His eyes left yours as he looked down at his hands placed on your legs. They were rough and pale, they were hands that you loved. “Do not lie to me, (y/n). Something is wrong. You are, not yourself anymore. Tell me,” he said gently yet firmly. You smiled wider before you placed your hand on his forearm. “Darling, nothing is wrong, I promise. I’m fine and happy, I have you.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence and you felt as if your plastered smile might have failed you at any moment when he finally looked at you. “Love, do not lie, it does not suit you. Just, tell me.” You patted his arm as thoughts raced through your mind, wondering how you could reassure him he did not have to deal with your shit when he probably had so much to deal with from his own thoughts already.

“Darling, come here,” you said and he leaned towards you. You stroked away one side of his black hair and hooked it behind his cute ear before you gently caressed his cheek and kissed his lips tenderly. I will not fail you, was the one thought that spun through your mind over and over as you tasted him. “Everything is great,” you whispered as you broke the kiss, “I’ll go make some tea for us. You seem a bit tense.” He nodded at you but there was sadness in his eyes that you could not ignore even if you stood and walked out to the kitchen.

Your hands were shaking as you poured water into the kettle. The cups rattled as you placed them on saucers. Your breathing faltered over and over as you tried to calm your heart. Too close, too close, too close, you thought as you placed tea bags in the cups. I need to do better, he can’t see, I can’t worry him. He’s got too much of his own stuff to deal with, I can’t be a burden to him. I don’t want to burden him anymore…

A small, glinting tear rolled down your cheek as you bit your lip to keep a sob at bay just as the kettle screamed. The water swirled as you poured it, stained by the tea in a gentle pattern before it all gained the same deep colour and you felt as if you yourself had been stained a deeper, darker colour throughout the depths of your heart.

You had avoided him a tad after the tea. You busied yourself with laundry, cleaning, changing sheets on the bed and dusting. Not until evening came and Severus had set the table with a divinely smelling dinner were you forced to be still and in close proximity to him. Now, some might have thought this was just because you didn’t want him to notice it all, see it all, know it all. But no, no that was not the reason you had avoided him. At least not completely.

You wanted to tell him, talk to him, get help. Or something along those lines. At the same time, you felt shame, pain and an array of doubt as to how he would react but also regarding your infliction of pain through verbally admitting what you felt to the one you loved so deeply. The storm inside you that was black clouds of endless dust that howled about your insignificant worth made you feel horrible in every way. Yet, the one thing you did not want was to hurt him. Drag him into the storm. Pain him with your selfish thoughts when you knew, knew what he had been through - for years .

I have no right. No right to feel like this. I should be happy. Should be grateful. I’m alive, I have a home, a man who loves me and the world is safe again. I know I should feel all these things. Should be filled with love and joy. He survived, we found each other. Yet, he is just so damn much and I’m just, not worthy of any of it...

“(Y/n), talk to me,” he said all of a sudden as he put down his cutlery. You lifted your head, allowed your eyes to meet his and tugged your lips up into a smile. “Darling, I don’t understand what you’re going on about. I’m fine, everything is good. I’m good.” “You are not good!” The sudden change of his tone startled you for a second. His gaze was intense and penetrating. As if he looked through you. You gasped as you felt his intrusion in your mind and you had no chance of blocking him out.

He saw everything. Every little thing that you had desperately tried to hide from him. The hurt, the doubt, the horrors of your mind that filled your days with anxiety and sorrow. He slithered through your mind with such power and speed you barely had a chance at breathing as your mind raced with thoughts you had wanted to hide. But, it is as they say. If someone says ‘do not think of an elephant’, what do you think of? An elephant. And that elephant was all of your fears combined with all of the pain.

His eyes watered and you stood with such speed that the chair toppled. “Severus-” you breathed out with a mixture of emotions that were nothing but bad. Your lip quivered as tears rolled down your cheeks before you dashed out of the kitchen and ran towards the bathroom. You closed and locked the door a mere second before he pulled at the handle. “(Y/n). Open the door,” he said with a slight shake to his voice. But you simply curled up in the tub and hugged your legs, your knees against your forehead as tears wet your clothes and skin.

He banged at the door, twice, and you shivered. He saw it, he saw it, he’ll hate me, he’ll be furious with me. I have no right to feel this, I’m not worthy of, anything… The fear of him feeling such things towards you made you nauseous and afraid. “Please, love, open the door. Let me in,” he said through the wood that separated you. But you didn’t move. Then a click was heard and he had used the unlocking spell to let himself in. You hugged your knees tighter. Buried your head with more force as you tried to stop the sobbing that wanted to crawl its way out of your mouth from the depths of your chest.

You felt his hand on your back as you heard the ruffling of fabric as he lowered himself beside the tub. “Love, please,” he whispered and pain was evident in his voice. You curled up further, as much as you could. I hurt him. I hurt him just like everyone else has done. You’d be better off without me, I know you would. I’m such a fucking coward, why haven’t I just- just- just ended it?! I’m not worthy of breathing the same air as you. I should have died. I should have died with the others. Someone else should have lived, I should have died in that war. “Love, don’t.”

It was too late when you felt his presence in your mind as your dark thoughts buried you in such cold depths you barely registered that he lifted you out of the tub. His arms wrapped beneath and around you. His thin lips pressed themselves against your head and you let go of the clawing sob. It escaped through your quivering lips and Severus tensed.

“Love, you are my everything. My whole world. You, are the very reason that I am living. You are-” “Unworthy of your love,” you breathed out in a hushed whisper. To say the words out loud felt as if someone drove a piping hot branding iron down your throat. “It is I who is unworthy of you ,” he whispered against the top of your head as he sunk to the floor and cradled you, “I should have seen, noticed, I should have been there for you like you have always been for me. I am so sorry, love.”

Had this been one of those stupid romance novels I would have been all smiles and happy by now. To hear you say that. I would have been cured of these feelings. But apparently, life is not like that… The thoughts and feelings you had had for so long had not lessened in any way. Had not disappeared just because of his adoring words. They were as strong as ever. But now, now there was also the pain of having hurt him and made him feel unworthy or lesser. It was agony and you had no way to deal with it other than to cry.

Darkness had fallen long before you finally stopped crying. Everything in your body ached and you knew Severus was stiff and sore from the odd position on the hard floor, with you in his lap. “I am so sorry, love,” he whispered for the umpteenth time. “I’m tired,” you whispered back as your mind kept spinning with all the things you had tried to bury. To hide. Things from before the war and after the war. Life, death, loss and gain. “Let’s get you to bed,” he simply said and the thunder in his voice felt subdued. A mere distant rumble and it made you feel strange.

He rose with you in his arms, carefully cradled as if you would break with any hasty motion. You felt the stiffness in his movements, yet he didn’t say a word about it. He simply carried you through the hallway and placed you on the bed with gentleness. You turned and laid on your side as your mind echoed the words ‘insignificant, worthless, unbearable’ over and over and over as Severus pulled the cover up over you. “I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered before he kissed your head, “I will help you, in any way I can. Please don’t, don’t leave me...”

The room was silent after those words and a moment later you heard him take a shuddering breath before he left. You were alone. In that moment, something desperate clawed in you. A fearful thought crossed your mind and pain travelled through your veins as if they were freezing with an ice-cold breath. He’ll leave me now, he’ll see that I’m not worth anything. That, that he is better off without me. Strangely enough, that scared you. Even if it had been the very epicentre of your dark thoughts and agonizing pain lately it was different now. He knew now. Perhaps it was the end and all you had feared was actually true? That you meant nothing, was worth nothing. Nothing at all.

You shivered, turned to lay on your back and grabbed the cover to take it off but at that moment the door opened. You turned your head only to see a broken man in the doorway. His eyes glinted with unshed tears and his shoulders slumped. He looked nothing like your Severus. Nothing at all like the powerful and strong man you had fallen for.

“I will never leave you. I love you, (y/n).” You looked at him as the words vibrated through you in a low tone. “I would have been dead if it were not for you,” he continued and the words elicited a gasp from you. You could not even fathom the idea of a world without Severus. Such a place couldn’t even exist in your wildest fantasies. He was everything. “A world without you, would be worthless and empty. You are everything to me and I want to keep you forever, here, with me. No matter how selfish that may be, I need you with me. Or I shall perish.”

Your heart fluttered with a need for his love as his words landed somewhere in the darkest parts of your mind. The parts where screams and falling bodies lingered. The part where dark clouds of dust swirled with sorrow and pain. The part where no dawning light had shined for years. There his words landed, settled. A small crack in the clouds allowed a single ray of sunshine to come through as gentle words of thankfulness for all who had survived could be heard, even if they were muffled by distant memory and buried beneath all the bad things.

You removed the cover and sat up slowly. As your feet touched the carpet something jolted in you. You ran towards him, slammed your body into his so harshly that he took a staggering step back as his arms wrapped themselves around you with such haste you were nearly surprised. “Please, love, please. Stay and go through this with me. Together,” he breathed out and you nodded as new tears leaked from your eyes. “I will-, will try…” It was the only kind of thing you could say as you clung to that tiny sliver of light in the depths of the darkness. That tiny little ray of warmth that was your beloved and his love for you.

Epilogue:

It had been nearly six months. For six months he had guarded you, tended to you, helped you through the pain and anxiety attacks too many times to count. He had cred, you had cried and several times it felt hopeless. As if nothing would ever change the darkness that clung to you on the inside, in the depths of your mind.

But he had encouraged you, supported you, helped you in all ways possible. Even on days when you wanted to run away from it all and give up, he made sure you could see light and feel warmth. He had confided in you as well. His fear of losing you, his pain in seeing you turn into someone he did not know, the anguish of not knowing and not being able to help. The horror that had raked through him each time you had shut him out with lies of how great and good everything was. His fear that he was not enough for you, that he was not what you wanted.

But now, after months of hard work, tears, open communication and desperate attempts at surviving through it all you felt lighter. The dark clouds of dust were nearly gone as light bathed most of your inner self; a warmth spread like the gentle breeze of a summer night. It was thanks to him, to your beloved, and your own hard work. Your own strength and determination to not yield and succumb to the darkness. Even on days when it was most tempting to escape it all swiftly.

You had fought. Struggled. Won battle after battle. Some battles were lost but the war was being won, one fight at a time. You did that. You fought on and conquered the pain, the sorrow and despair. The abysmal voice that echoed horrendous words of unworthiness and shame had nearly been silenced and replaced with a growling noise of power and love. His voice, his sound, it saved you time and time again as you allowed love to actually unfold and be a part of your life. As you allowed yourself to be alive even if you were not always sure you should be.

You did not give those thoughts more than a swift glance as they passed by in your mind. They were not worthy of your emotional investment. They were false and wrong. You would not succumb to them no matter what as you had finally found your will to live accompanied by a need to do so happily - despite everything your mind had whispered, you were worthy. You just needed help to break free of the darkness and see yourself for the worthy person that you would always be. No matter what, you would always be worthy of life.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

A/N: I want to say thank you to the Nonny who sent this request and I want to yet again remind everyone that you are worthy of all good things and being suicidal or harming yourself does not take that away! If you are harming yourself or have suicidal thoughts, find and ask for help! You are worth it, worthy of help and of life! Thank you for being here with us. ❤️

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @simpforsnape @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @morphineisouthoney @setsuna-meiou31 @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Feb:2021]

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spidersmiceandeverythingnice · 3 years

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OISIN - 4* CASTER - PROFILE

Under the read more!

Summon: “My name is Oisin. I am a poet – and now, I am your Caster-class Servant. Though our time together won’t last forever, I’m glad to meet you, Master."

Initial Information:

A beautiful poet, blessed with eternal youth and wisdom. Though he is a great knight, he is most famous for his silver tongue, which has preserved the legends of many heroes in what is now called the "Fenian" or "Ossianic" Cycle of Irish mythology.

Passive Skills

Territory Creation A

Item Construction C

Divinity C

Active Skills

Heroic Legacy A – Increase defense for three turns and clear own debuffs, increase attack and star generation for all allies for three turns.

Blessings of Youth A – Apply invincibility for 3 turns, apply Arts, Quick, and Buster up for 3 turns. Costs 9 critical stars.

Storyteller B – Drain all enemy NP charge, increase own NP charge, increase party NP gain for 3 turns.

NOBLE PHANTSAM: Dord Fianna – the War Cry to Defend Humanity (QUICK)

Area of effect Noble Phantasm that deals damage to all enemies, special bonus damage to any Threat to Humanity trait enemies. Applies defense down, critical strength down, and slight chance to inflict Terror status to all enemies. Applies attack up, critical strength up, and NP damage up to all allies for 3 turns.

Lines - Room

Idle: “Master, are you doing anything right now? If you’re bored, I can show you the song I’m working on now. No? You’d rather go outside? Well, that’s alright, too. I’ll tag along.”

Master-Servant Relationship: “I’m used to working, living, and fighting alongside others, so this situation is fine for me. Honestly, it brings back pleasant memories.”

Opinion of Master: “I could write a thousand songs about your adventures. I really do consider it to be a privilege to fight at your side!”

Scheherazade: “I think she and I could have a lot in common. And so beautiful too… hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m happily married, you know!”

Author Servants: “There are a lot of very talented people here. I consider myself a formidable opponent, but I think I’ll work a little harder, regardless of that. [laugh]”

Saints: “It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just that I can’t really understand them. I have my reasons, but that may be the one story I’m not interested in telling.”

Irish Servants: “There are so many famous heroes here from ages past. Of course, I already know the tales by heart but I wonder if there would be any differences in the first-hand accounts…”

Diarmuid: “Diarmuid! It’s been too long since I’ve seen your face! Master, this is the only person in the world who is smarter than my father. He always used to beat us at chess, and that’s just the start of it. I’m sure you already know. What? Oh, don’t be modest! And here – look! I brought you some letters from your relatives. They say you hardly ever visit anymore and – hey, where are you going?!”

Fionn: “Ahh… It’s good to see him in his prime like this. He seems to be very at ease here. Seeing that he’s able to smile and relax like this… honestly, he looks just as Mother always described him. Ah, wait a moment. Please don’t ever tell him I said that.”

Lines – Battle

DECK: QQ/AA/B

Start 1: “Just because I am an artist doesn’t mean that I can’t do battle when I need to.”

Start 2: “That look on your face… I have to wonder if you’re not taking me seriously. Well, it can’t be helped. Best of luck to you!”

Skill 1: “This is the blessing I was given.”

Skill 2: “Hmm… still a bit out of tune.”

Skill 3: “With the strength of my own limbs.”

Skill 4: “With actions that will match my speech.”

Attack: [IDK SOME NOISE]

Extra Attack 1: “With purity in our hearts!”

Extra Attack 2: “You won’t underestimate me a second time!”

Noble Phantasm Activation: “If the time has come to defend humanity – then I will serve with all the power I have.”

Noble Phantasm 1: “For the things we have forgotten, and for all that we have to gain – there is something that I, too, must protect. I swear that I shall defeat all evil in the world. With the purity of our hearts – Dord Fianna!”

Noble Phantasm 2: “This is a story of those who stood should to shoulder to defend humanity's destiny, from all that would covet and destroy it. No matter when, or where, we will always rise to meet this challenge. This is our sacred duty – Dord Fianna."

Noble Phantasm 3: “This hunting horn is not for making music – if you’re skittish, you might want to cover your ears. Listen – to our sacred battle cry!”

Injured 1: “Rude!”

Injured 2: “At least make sure to avoid my face!”

Incapacitated 1: “It seems that… once again… I can’t stay beside you until the end… I’m… sorry…”

Incapacitated 2: “It’s always like this, huh… Strange… this time, it doesn’t hurt…”

Victory 1: “I told you from the start. Before I am an artist, I am also a knight!”

Victory 2: “You know, I think I could make a song about this victory. Someone give me a tune! Hey… wait a minute… why are you all walking away?”

Bond 1: “You know, Master, I spent a long time out of human society. So, I need you to tell me to my face if I ever say something strange. Seriously. I’m not joking. I really don’t know what people talk about these days. I’m counting on your guidance.”

Profile 1: Oisin, the son of the legendary hero Fionn MacCumhail. Because his father had already eaten the Fish of All Knowledge, he was gifted from birth with wisdom and a quick wit. His name literally means "little deer" or "fawn."

Bond 2: “What was it like, growing up with such a famous father? Well, that’s a difficult question. Father has always been good to me. I’ve always felt that the Fianna were my family. Even the most loving and tight knit families sometimes fight… and even so… hm. I wonder… …Um, sorry. [slightly nervous laugh] What was I saying again?”

Profile 2: The story of Oisin's birth is a tragedy. His mother, Sadhbh, was Fionn's second wife. Though they were madly in love, his mother had another suitor, who was a cruel and wicked mage. One day, when Fionn was out hunting, the mage lured the pregnant Sadhbh out of their home by impersonating her husband, and transformed her into a deer before loosing her in the forest.

When Fionn returned to their home and found it empty, he immediately marshaled his knights and began to search for them, leaving no stone under-turned.

Eventually, the toddler Oisin was recovered - but his mother was never seen again.

Bond 3: “Yes, yes. My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. Every man says that about his wife, but in my case, it’s actually true! She’s a wonderful, wonderful woman, and her family always treated me so kindly. I simply lost track of time, that’s all. Yes, I always meant to go back and visit, but the opportunity always… Eh? I trailed off again? I’m not sure why I keep getting lost in thought. Anyway, let’s talk about something else.”

Profile 3: Fionn was never the same after Sadhbh's disappearance. Plunged into a deep mourning, it was said that his entire personality shifted, until he was nearly a shadow of his former, magnanimous self. It was Oisin who volunteered to seek a new bride for his father, perhaps desperate to see his father smile again. It was these events that eventually lead to the Pursuit, another tale that is narrated in the Fenian Cycle.

Bond 4: “Was it hard? Yes, I suppose it was. All the places that I had loved, and all the people I had loved were gone. Even my own father. Even my first son. And then, I was even stupid enough to fall off my horse. Hah. Sorry, Master, I’ll go now. No, no. It’s alright. It’s just that I would never want you to see me like that. That’s all.”

Profile 4: Like the other Knights of Fianna, Oisin lived a long life full of adventures too numerous to recount in full. He married a fairy woman and went to live in Tir na Nog, the land of eternal youth. Eventually, he decided to return to the mortal world to visit his family. His wife gifted him a magical horse, and told him that he would not be able to dismount, or the blessings of eternal youth that he had been granted would disappear.

When Oisin emerged from the Land of Youth, he discovered that 300 years had passed, and the Fianna had all but completely disappeared.

Bond 5: “I will make sure that they remember you. I’ll fight beside you until the end – and then, I’ll make sure that the world remembers you. Really, it’s the least that I can do. But let’s not talk about depressing things. For some reason, I’ve been wanting to write a love song lately. What do you think? ‘Too early…’ It’s never too early for beautiful music! [laughing] Really, you ought to enjoy life a little more, Master.”

Profile 5: DORD FIANNA - The War Cry to Defend Humanity. A war cry to strike fear in the hearts of humanity's enemies, a power that can wake sleeping kings.

This Noble Phantasm would not normally belong to Oisin. It is said, in Ireland, that their great hero Fionn is not dead, but slumbers beneath a mountain, surrounded by his loyal knights, and that the one who blows upon his hunting horn will rise him from his sleep. When he rises, he will resume his duties, to protect humanity.

But the stories of the Fianna exist in the modern age because, after emerging from Tir na Nog, Oisin wrote them all down. Using his talents for word and song, he told the tales of valor and heroism and adventure, the stories of his friends and family to anyone who would listen. After an accident caused him to fall from the horse that should have carried him back to his beloved wife, Oisin lay dying, feeling each of those 300 years seep back into him, even as he desperately tried to finish the story he was telling.

So in this form, the Dord Fianna is not a war cry, but more like a song.

Bonus Profile, Post Interlude: In one version of the story of Oisin, he encounters a certain saint while traveling around Ireland. The saint listens to the knight's tales, but even so, because Oisin is still a pagan and an immortal himself, he and the saint don't get along very well and part on bad terms. Even though Oisin claims that it wasn't like that, and even so, he never holds grudges, he still can't help but make a face whenever the saint's name comes up in conversation.

#fate grand order #fgo #servant oc #fate servant #fgo oc #servant profile #lemme know what yall think about my Boy

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idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf · 3 years

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People are so quick to blame literally everything that happened in Mapleshade’s Vengeance on Mapleshade and nobody else without even suggesting that any sort of blame could be pinned on literally any of the other characters or even that some of the bad things that happened were tragic accidents while also complaining about how none of the villains ever have any moral complexity or gray area and it’s baffling.

Like.

You even suggest that Darkstar, Oakstar, Frecklewish, Ravenwing, and Appledusk were all shitty and played a significant part in the events of the book, that the general society or even warrior code itself being flawed may have contributed to making Mapleshade a villain, or even suggest that the kits dying wasn’t Mapleshade’s fault and people jump at you. Because they cannot fathom that a villain isn’t always just pure evil for no reason with no question or blame on anyone else. Like. The same people who are annoyed at Tigerstar being such a villain stereotype down to literally being born evil.

That book is incredibly interesting because it shines a light on just how fucked up clan loyalism and biases can be as well as showing a cast of characters who all do awful things and all end up suffering in the end because of the society in which they live.

The warrior code and Starclan in of itself is incredibly flawed and this fact easily lent itself to creating this story. It’s easy to say that Mapleshade was horrible and wrong for lying about the father of her kits, however there’s no doubt in my mind on why she would have seen this as necessary. Clan rivalry was at a high at the moment, the book opening up with Mapleshade noting the blind rage and hostility her clanmates showed towards Riverclan cats after their recent battle, now, very clearly clan rivalry to the extent it’s displayed throughout the books is a flawed thing in of itself, think back to the Dawn Of The Clans books and how Clear Sky was regarded for bringing bloodshed into the forest. Think of that battle, of two siblings laying dead, having murdered one another over borders that aren’t really necessary. Think of warriors letting kits of other clans drown because they don’t see it as their own problem. Even now in present time, think about how a cat can lay dying in Thunderclan camp and be ignored completely because they aren’t one of them. Clan loyalism is incredibly dangerous. It leads to death and hatred. Constantly. Even in times of relative peace there’s so much resentment for other clans so evidently present. And during the time of Mapleshade’s Vengeance, tensions between Riverclan and Thunderclan were particularly high. To pretend that Mapleshade had no reason to be terrified for her own safety and that of her kits is ludicrous given the climate in which clan cats live. Lying was not the moral thing to do, and it’s not as if Mapleshade had nothing to do with her own downfall, but do not pretend for a second that the decision would have been easy or clear cut. Do not even pretend telling the truth from the start would have been the right choice to make. Clan loyalism is dangerous. It’s a terrible thing that’s lead to the deaths of countless cats over the years. Cats who didn’t deserve it. The warrior code and Starclan facilitating this is a terrifying, awful thing. Mapleshade lived in an incredibly flawed system that would have persecuted her for falling in love and hated her kits for who their father is, Mapleshade lying in an act of self preservation and protection over her kits was a direct result of the corrupt system she was raised into forcing her hand. What’s more, Starclan choosing to out the kits to Ravenwing and his subsequent decision to tell Oakstar- because the will of Starclan comes before the lives of warriors, every single time- was a further example of this. That small, innocent kittens be punished for a woman daring to love somebody outside her boarders is ludicrous. And Starclan’s wrath did not come from the lies Mapleshade told, but rather the Riverclan blood in her kits veins. This disdain her culture held for Mapleshade and her “half-breed” kits was exactly what forced her to lie in the first place.

I’m going to handle Frecklewish and Oakstar in a different paragraph to my discussion on how the warrior code, starclan, and clan society in general were to blame, because they did have more personal motivations as well and I would like to address that fact. In the end, they were both incredibly upset that Mapleshade lied (or, well, more like omitted the truth, but same principal) about the father of her kits. This was fair. I do not fully blame Mapleshade for this lie. As I said before, I do not dislike Mapleshade for choosing to lie. Certainly it can be said that her decision was morally wrong, however a mother of three choosing to prioritize her and her children’s safety and security over morals in a society that would see them exiled and left to fend for themselves....well, it’s just human, to be quite frank. She was in a desperate situation and people will never be their best selves when placed in a desperate situation, especially when their children are involved. It’s the same reason I don’t blame Leafpool for giving her kits to her sister, even if it meant lying to Bramblestar and the rest of the clan (honestly mapleshade’s lie may arguably even be more understandable than leafpool’s because she didn’t have nepotism on her side like leafpool, mapleshade lived in a time of war against her mate’s clan unlike leafpool, and, well, mapleshade was going to tell the truth eventually once she was sue her kits wouldn’t be thrown out to fend for themselves...unlike leafpool). Frecklewish and Oakstar’s anger was understandable, but that doesn’t make Mapleshade a bad person for the lie. And, well, to be honest, both Oakstar and Frecklewish cross the line into cruelty. And that line is crossed...where their personal anger against Mapleshade meets their clan biases. Oakstar was quick to throw out a young mother and her three small children with nowhere to go. And he did it because she fell in love with a tom across the boarder. A tom who’s clan Oakstar had a bias against. Yes, his personal rage against Mapleshade fueled this decision, but had the real father of these kits been Thunderclan, she never would have been exiled for her lie alone. And his decision to exile the kits as well. Three innocent children who hadn’t done anything wrong. Who he couldn’t be certain would survive with only Mapleshade to care for them. It was because once it was revealed they were half clan, they became other to him. They weren’t people like him. The clans have an us vs them mentality. Oakstar’s decision to throw out three helpless children was because they stopped being ‘us’ and started being ‘them’ as soon as they were revealed as half clan. Not because of his grudge against Mapleshade. The exile of the kits, even as Mapleshade begged for them to be allowed to stay because they were innocent even if she wasn’t, can easily be traced back to, once again, that dangerous sense of loyalism clans have. And then there’s Frecklewish. A lot of what was said about Oakstar can go for her too, except with the added layer of her standing at that riverside and letting the kits drown. Now, she could have stepped in to try and help them. It’s not like she was incapable. In no place during her confrontation with Mapleshade did she say “I can’t swim, idiot”. No. It was “I assumed the Riverclan cats would help them!” and other such statements to imply it wasn’t her business. There’s no doubt in my mind that if those kits really had been Birchface’s she would have jumped in to help them. There’s no doubt in my mind that if those kits had been any Thunderclan cat’s she would have jumped in to help them weather or not there were other cats nearby. Because the lives of Thunderclan kits are her business. And the lives of other kits...well...aren’t. Especially not half breeds. If they were alone, maybe she would have begrudgingly helped out of obligation to the warrior code, maybe she wouldn’t have. Weather or not she would have done the bare minimum doesn’t change the fact that she was less willing to help these kits than she would have been if they were Thunderclan.

Even the actions of cats like Appledusk and Darkstar are in some way related to the unhealthy clan loyalism and biases. Mapleshade was instantly cast out of Riverclan and not even allowed to take her kits to bury while Appledusk was allowed to stay and given another chance. To be honest, Darkstar was harder on her because she was Thunderclan. You can argue that the choice to cross the river was stupid and risky, but honestly, I completely disagree with blaming her for a natural disaster. She was thrown out. Homeless. She didn’t really have anywhere to go. Her only hope was to make it to Appledusk in Riverclan where she could hopefully be offered refuge. Crossing the river, to her, seemed like the only choice she had. Her only option for the salvation of herself and her kits. I don’t blame her for it. I don’t know how anyone can. She was frantic, she was homeless, she was under threat of attack if she stayed in the wild, she didn’t know how to provide for herself, how to provide for her kits. She needed to get to Riverclan, she was panicked in her attempts to do so. I cannot blame her for it. Had the kits survived or had Mapleshade already been a member of Riverclan, Darkstar would have been compassionate as well. Would have shown empathy. As she did for Appledusk. However Mapleshade was other. She was one of them, not one of us. Her blood, her scent, her posture, Darkstar loathed it in the way any loyalist Riverclan cat loathes a Thunderclan cat. Disdain, contempt, apathy at best, that was how a Riverclan cat regards a Thunderclan cat, and that was how Darkstar regarded this grieving terrified young mother, so easily dismissing her. Even Appledusk was deeply influenced by this attitude that’s always infected clan life. I have no doubt he once cared for Mapleshade. I have no doubt he killed off the part of himself that loved her for the sake of self preservation. That he latched onto his clanmates’ perceptions of Thunderclan cats as inhuman enemies. That he chose to love a she-cat within his own clan instead because love beyond boarders is forbidden in every sense of the word. Appledusk was horrible. He was a cheater, he showed no empathy for Mapleshade, he was just awful. However it’s clear to me that this, like everybody else’s actions within this book, was a result of the horrifically flawed values of the clans, the warrior code, and Starclan. That Appledusk was able to dehumanize Mapleshade in his mind because clan cats dehumanize those who they see as other. That he was able to justify his behavior to himself and other’s due to clan loyalism and bias. That he would have had a chance to be better had his love not been forbidden in the first place. Had his children not been a sin he felt the need to atone for in order to be deserving of salvation from his ancestors and his leader.

Almost every bad thing within this story was a direct result of clan culture and biases. Everyone did horrible things. Oakstar, Darkstar, Frecklewish, Appledusk, Ravenwing, and Mapleshade herself all did bad things during the first half of this book weather it be out of discrimination against the other or self preservation in a world that sees them as the other. Every other clan cat who watched this happen and Starclan itself who facilitated this were just as bad. Mapleshade’s breakdown and the subsequent deaths of Frecklewish, Ravenwing, and Appledusk can all be blamed on this. Mapleshade, even when she killed, did not act selfishly. She was not a true villain until after her death. Mapleshade suffered from a psychotic break in which she became convinced her kits could not enter Starclan until the cats who caused their deaths were dead. This breakdown was completely the fault of the cats mentioned above who allowed their loyalism and biases to cause the horrific deaths of Patchkit, Petalkit, and Larchkit. Obviously murder isn’t okay, however i’d be lying if I said that within the fictional story it wasn’t thematically satisfying that these cats die. It was also incredibly satisfying that Mapleshade go to the dark forest while the other cats involved went to starclan, not because Mapleshade deserved the dark forest more (usually murder would be much worse than what the others did, however since she was suffering a psychotic break at the time circumstances are different than they’d be if she hadn’t been vividly hallucinating that her children weren’t allowed into heaven). Starclan watched this messy, horrific event unfold. And they picked one person to blame for it. They did not reevaluate their rules and systems, they did not even choose to punish everybody else involved for what they’d done (let three innocent kits die and turn away a desperate terrified grieving young mother in need). Starclan chose one cat, the cat who they decided had committed the worst crime, and they said she is objectively to blame for all of this, punish her and we never speak of this again (which is ironically also what a lot of fans try to do, say mapleshade was to blame, nobody else is, punish her and lets move on). People want to blame everything on a single entity they can fight, not on a complex system of societal biases that can make two clans commit atrocities with Starclan’s full support. And the brilliant part of this is that this didn’t fucking work. Mapleshade came back. Again. And again. And again. Progressively getting worse and worse and worse, more vengeful and more dangerous as time went on. Because that’s what HAPPENS when you ignore the bigger picture and pin everything on one person without trying to give it a second thought. The problem isn’t solved. Things get worse and worse and worse. Mapleshade is a bad person now because she was victimized by society and starclan in life, then swept under the rug. She became more angry, less rational, completely focused on revenge. Not because she was always bad, but because pinning big complex issues on one person isn’t helpful. Because that’s always going to end in disaster. Nobody in the clans were innocent and in the end the corruption of the society in which they live ruined everybody and everything. There were no happy endings, not for anyone, and once it was all over it was all blamed on one person and swept under the rug to be a problem for future generations instead without anything actually being solved.

Don’t believe me? Which big characters were fully innocent in the main plotline of the book, then?

Patchkit, Petalkit, Larchkit, and Mylar. Three exiled half clan kits and a loner. The only fully good, kind, innocent cats weren’t part of the larger clan culture and system of beliefs.

Stop blaming everything on Mapleshade, i’m almost certain the exact reason this book is so good is that it’s not all her fault and that her future character arc of actually becoming a bad person and becoming dangerous to the clans is actually only farther proof of that. Clan society is fucked up, we’ve known that for a while but this book does such a good job of portraying it. The way the system makes it so that nobody’s hands are ever clean as long as they exist within the main system and how the cruelty or apathy of Starclan, The Warrior Code, and Clan Society will corrupt even those who could have been otherwise innocent.

Mapleshade’s story is impressive and probably the only villain I can think of that’s...actually super complex and is bad for reasons other than “am selfish want power am cartoon villain stereotype”.

#warrior cats #mapleshade #mapleshade's vengeance

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 27

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because satire is defeated. Now the only form of humor will be clever wordplay.

Last times on book: Kylan, Naia, Tavra (who is stuck in a spider), and new party member Amri are on a quest to save the Grottan Clan from millions of angry spiders who want their caves back and from the Skeksis Satirist skekLi. They also want to find a bell-bird bone to make a special magical flute with to warn all Gelfling about the danger the Skeksis pose. Both of these objectives dovetailed nicely when Kylan tooted on the bone to ward off the spiders and with the help of a pair of convenient urRu trapped skekLi.

That’s why you need a bard in your party.

Chapter 27

How do you solve a problem like skekLi?

urVa and urLii stop chanting but the effects continue, keeping skekLi from moving. He handles it with mature resignation.

“This is not...,” skekLi began. He shot a look at Naia and Kylan, then back at his Mystic brothers. “This is not nice - not fair!”

This is why we need to set out rules ahead of time.

The Skeksis could propose the rule ‘urRu can’t be used to paralyze Skeksis’ and then the Gelfling could propose ‘you’re not allowed to drink us.’

urVa, ever the most proactive urRu, tells skekLi to let the Gelfling go.

“Or what? You’ll raise that bow and run me through? And what happens to our other, eh?”

urVa stood watch while urLii began the winding descent down the corrie wall. He made the climb look easy with all four hands and his long-toed, bare feet, almost as dextrous as a spider himself. He paused on a ledge, half-hanging from the rock face, and tapped his chin. He was close enough now that his thoughtful murmur was audible.

“Hmm... That would be an interesting turn of events...”

urLii pls

That’s a heck of a train of thought! But please ponder non-existence on your own time!

Naia tells Kylan that they should really just amscray on their own. Kylan fearlessly steps in skekLi range to grab Tavra who is still plopped on the floor from the power of the bell-bird bone.

skekLi was spiny with anger, all the quills and feathers along his neck and the back of his head raised. His bloodshot eyes burned with hatred and vengeful excitement.

Body language! Pissed off vulture crocodile dinosaur body language!

Since he’s frozen in place, skekLi’s last remaining weapon is his wicked tongue wielded witheringly.

He warns the Gelfling that if they thought his spider servants were bad, wait until they see what his pal skekUng is making.

“Big servants. Mindless, heartless servants. Flawless servants, with claws that could snap Gelfling in two. See what Gelfling do then, eh... if any are left.”

Oh snap, thats what we call foreshadowing! And maybe dramatic irony?

This is another time in the book where Kylan has no idea how to respond to something so just doesn’t. I think that might have been three times?

I’ve been wondering how Kylan, Naia, and Tavra were going to get down with all the bridges broke but the freed Grottan just come flying in and scoop up the two Gelfling as skekLi can do nothing but glare.

Huh. So it makes sense that the Drenchen Gelfling have adapted to their environment by having wings that are more like fins. But why do the cave dwelling Grottan still have fully flight functional wings.

Although, if the story about the founding of the Grottan Clan are accurate, they’d be the youngest clan so maybe they just haven’t had time yet.

Also, interesting detail. It takes only one Grottan girl to carry Naia away but it takes two to carry Kylan. Dunno if Kylan is just heavier or whether Naia is using her own wings to lighten the load.

So now that they have a Skeksis trapped on a mushroom, the party has the grand ‘so what the heck do we do with skekLi we have trapped on a mushroom?’

Tavra cautions that skekLi won’t be trapped for long. Probably eventually the other Skeksis will come rescue and/or laugh at him. And then he’ll tell them everything that transpired. Then they’ll probably laugh harder. But even if he already told the others what the main characters are up to, they shouldn’t take that chance.

“What are you saying, that we should kill him?” Naia asked. “And urLii with him? That’s not right. urLii didn’t do anything wrong!”

“No one’s done anything wrong,” urLii corrected. He met them and the Grottan, dusting his hands of rocks and sand from his climb. “We are all doing what it is we do, what is our nature and our character. Right and wrong... are a terribly complex song.”

“But that doesn’t help us,” said Naia.

Pfffft.

Characters keep getting frustrated by urLii’s philosophizing.

Kylan tries asking urLii what they should do about skekLi but his answer is “I suppose that depends on your character” which isn’t very helpful.

Kylan realizes that he’s gotta be the tie-breaker between Naia and Tavra. Amri is also here but he’s not voting.

Huh! Funny how this book had a pattern of Kylan being the tie-breaker between Naia and Tavra but it hasn’t actually been Tavra for most of it. And now that it is the real Tavra, the pattern is repeating anyway.

So Kylan considers how awful the Skeksis are. What the Hunter has done in general and to Kylan specifically. How Tavra is a spider now because of skekLi. And how he tried to kill Naia, showing that he isn’t even loyal to his own kind (weird that that’s a minus in the column but whatever).

urLii proposed that there was no right or wrong, but that in itself did not seem right. It wasn’t wrong, either. The paradox gave him a headache.

“I don’t think we should kill him,” Kylan said in the end. “The Gelfling are a peaceful people. Even when we fight among ourselves. If we’re to be the heroes of this song, we must show mercy, even when we’re not shown mercy ourselves. The Skeksis have done terrible things to us... but I would rather believe that we can unite for the good of our people, not for revenge.”

Its a nice sentiment, Kylan. Its a good principle.

I know that I’ve had similar thoughts in the past. I’m torn because I know where this is all going. And I wonder if the near complete wiping out of the Gelfling clans could have been prevented if the Gelfling fought dirty. Maybe not. And the Gelfling become dicks in the future, even with the example of Jen and Kira as the foundation of their society so who could say what they’d become if they became cynical pragmatists to defeat the Skeksis.

I don’t have an answer.

It’s hard to fight the Skeksis because they have in-built hostages.

Tavra is disappointed that she thinks Kylan is advocating for just letting skekLi go but he clarifies that they DEFINITELY should keep him imprisoned here but someone will need to watch him and keep other Skeksis from finding him.

ENTER MAUDRA ARGOT.

Still picking bits of spiderweb from her cloak, Maudra Argot stepped forward from the small group of Grottan. Of the thirty-seven Grottan Gelfling, even fewer remained, bedraggled and afraid, some elders but mostly younglings Amri’s age. They had lost the Caves of Grot as well - all in exchange for the bone-flute. Kylan’s heart broke for them all, and he hoped that it was worth the sacrifice.

Oof. They were already so few and now they’re so fewer.

But anyway, Maudra Argot says the Grottan will take up the task. They’ll move into the Sanctuary and guard skekLi as they have guarded other secrets.

In fairness, they can’t return to Domrak. The spiders have claimed it. And even if Kylan helped evict them with the bone-flute, they’d just return. Caves are theirs again.

urLii also offers to help keep skekLi here.

“Between the Shadowlings and myself, I believe skekLi’s song has come to an end.”

That’s a fun way of saying that he’s not going to do anything important ever again and that he’s going to rot away on his mushroom prison.

Maudra Argot also tells Amri that he’s to stay with the group and go with them to Ha’rar. Wait, does she think they’ll actually make it there ever?

But she says she won’t be happy until the Vapra have to acknowledge the Grottan and also that Amri needs to grow as a person. Going on quests can help with that!

Kylan says they should get going. He needs to make the bone into a firca and he’s never made one so he doesn’t know how long it’ll take. And he can’t mess it up because THERE’S ONLY ONE BONE LEFT out of the entire extinct species!

He suddenly realizes the weight of the task after fighting so hard to get the bone. He wanted a purpose and he got one and a purpose does not sit light.

Kylan also really hopes that they don’t have to go through the Tide Pass again but he’d rather that three hundred times than stick around skekLi any more.

“I would give my life to stop him from escaping,” [urLii] remarked. “He is me, after all. But I do not believe it will be necessary. Even if it were, it would certainly be a dramatic moment, eh?”

You’re a weird guy, urLii.

Maybe you’re the one guy on Thra who thinks more in terms of stories than Kylan does.

“We spoke with Mother Aughra, before we came to Domrak,” Kylan said. “She had no words for us. She said only time would tell. That understanding the heavens would find us in our place, I think is what she meant. If we could understand the grand song, we would be able to find our way. But... the Gelfling don’t have time for that. We have to cut our own paths. We have to make the choice between being the weaver or the woven. The teller and the told. The singer and the song... But I choose to be both.”

urLii scratched his chin with his slender fingers and tilted his head.

“Hmmm! Weaver and the woven, eh? Where did you hear such fine advice?”

Kylan smiled and sighed.

“Goodbye, urLii. I hope to meet again someday.”

“We probably will not. But I will hear the song of the bell-bird again, yes... When light and shadows collide, under the triple suns.”

Aww.

Of course, Kylan has no idea what it all means. He’s getting some vague grasping of the bigger picture of the Great Conjunction but its still unclear.

On their way out, Kylan stops to look back at skekLi’s baleful gaze and starts worrying about his spiteful declaration about what skekUng has in store.

He wants to think its a lie but skekLi included too many specific details for it be something he pulled out of his ass. Like, who even is skekUng? The name drop means nothing to Kylan!

Tavra tells him to look away and for a moment, Kylan imagines that he can see her as she was, bipedal and not an inch tall.

“Forget him for now, or you will not be able to look ahead.”

He did as she suggested, turning his back on the Skeksis’s piercing gaze and hurrying after his friends.

Tavra here with the good advice.

I like that she’s not just here to be the one with bad opinions all the time. And that she’s protective of Kylan.

And since she’s now a tiny spider, she’s just emotionally protective of him.

She tried to protect Naia in Shadows so I just think that’s who Tavra is.

Anyway... OH NO only two chapters left??

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #Song of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Kylan #Naia #Amri #Tavra #skekLi #the Satirist #urLii #the storyteller #urVa #the Archer

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thecleverdame · 4 years

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The Oath - 12

Parings: Dark!Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Story Master List

Summary: After an unsuccessful escape attempt, the reader finds herself taken as a spoil of war. She ends up in the bed of a ruthless Alpha, the son of John Winchester, leader of the kingdom of Gilead. She struggles to conceal her true identity and navigate a society where being an Omega means nothing more than serving at the pleasure of powerful men.

Warnings: non-con, sexual assault, rape, attempted suicide, sexual slavery, branding, torture, ownership, voyeurism, anal play, smut, violence, and murder.

Sam is dark in this story. If any of the warnings are triggers for you, I would suggest skipping this one. Please read and heed all the warnings.

Beta: ilikaicalie

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Sam can feel you watching him.

Since waking up from the dead those years ago all of his senses have been heightened. He can anticipate situations before they develop, read the expression on a man’s face to deduce if he’s lying. But this is something else. A dormant ability hidden in his Alpha that’s responding to the bond developing between you. He can feel it growing every day. He knows when you are near or far, like now as you watch him riding away on his horse.

Despite the complications of being an Omega, you’ve proved to be less work than he initially anticipated. Yes, you’re often scared and appear lonely. But any Omega he came across would be all of those things and more. He sees your sadness, but you manage to not let it affect your ability to satisfy him so he honestly doesn’t care. It’s well worth the price to have you in his bed at night, rubbing your sweet scent over his skin and sucking his cock like you’re starving for it.

You need him more every day and that’s the way he prefers to keep it. If anything happened to you, it’s unlikely he would ever find a match as well suited. Most Alphas never find an Omega that responds so favorably.

Hell, in this world many Alphas never find an Omega at all.

“You don’t need to stay. I’ve recovered.” Sam affirms to Dean what they both already know.

“I’m not here for you. I’m here because being on my own is mind-numbing. The men are unbearable and this new Omega might be the death of me. Plus dad is a week away, ten days at most. I’m dreading rejoining the troops.”

“It’s true. The more time we spend away from him, the harder the reunion.”

“Used to be weeks, then months. How long has it been this time?” Dean asks.

“Eighteen months since I’ve seen him last,” Sam confirms. “Almost the same for you if I remember correctly.”

“I’m not sure. At least a year. I don’t mind him as much as you.”

Sam and John have a widening rift that’s been growing since Sam was a child. As soon as Sam was old enough to say the word ‘no’ the disobedience began. After Sam’s change to the man he is now, Dean thought perhaps they would grow closer. Sam was rapidly becoming just as ruthless as his father. But then came the day Sam surpassed John in nearly every regard.

Dean knows his brother keeps his actions in check. If he acted on his impulses, a monster would be unleashed. But Sam maintains a semblance of humanity and their father simply sees it as an opportunity. To have someone as smart and capable as Sam who is also willing to give merciless orders and gets his hands dirty when necessary is invaluable.

“A few of dad’s men are already here,” Sam confirms.

Two of John’s scouts arrived this morning. Now that they’ve confirmed safe passage, they’ll ride back for the largest garrison in the Winchester army. A hundred-thousand men will join up with Sam and Dean to create a force like nothing seen before.

They’re unstoppable and they know it.

“The sword maker arrived today,” Dean observes as they trot along the forest line. Both men scan the horizon, constantly vigilant of a possible impending attack.

Sam looks to Dean. “I could use a new blade. And his brand.”

His brand. Sam plans to make his ownership permanent. He must believe in your allegiance if he’s willing to brand you with the Winchester crest.

“I’ll have my Omega marked as well,” Dean adds and Sam turns to him with an inquisitive brow.

“The blonde one that’s tried to kill you twice now?”

“Best to have the family claim as soon as possible. I’ve heard reports of camps attacked and Omega’s being stolen and smuggled to the borders. We need her if we want to bargain.”

“She’s still wild?” Sam grins, watching Dean’s exasperation with amusement.

“She’s a hard one to break. Every time I think I’ve gotten the best of her she tries something new.”

“How long do you think she’ll live once our father shows up?”

“Depends on if he truly needs her as a bargaining chip or if he’ll just use her to entertain the men. Nothing gets them as energized as a beheading.”

“True. You won’t be broken-hearted?”

“No, not in the least. As soon as I find another Omega she’s heading to the jailer.”

“Smart. Better to have her under lock and key.” Sam rides for some time in silence, watching the slow-moving cloud trails across the gray horizon. “You told my Omega I was going to give her to you. Then to the men.”

“Maybe, sounds like me.” Dean laughs it off. “What’s the problem.”

“She tried to slit her own throat. I think she’s passed it now, but you could have given me a warning. You know how they react. I’d like to keep her alive.”

“It was a comment. She’s fragile.” Dean dismisses the idea that he acted rashly. “I’m still not convinced she didn’t have a hand in poisoning you. We should at least interrogate her. We can’t let the culprit get away with an attempt on Sam Winchester’s life. It sends the wrong message. Someone needs to be an example of what happens if they come after one of us. A body or two should do the trick.”

“And you think that person is my Omega?”

“Your Omega?” Dean shoots him a look “Please, we both know you’d never give her up. You’re too deep in that wet little cunt to see straight.”

“I see very clearly. Perhaps more than I have in a long time. I’m not sure I was ever truly satisfied before her. I thought the stories of destined matches were as much shit as you did but, now I...there’s something to it.”

“Have you been through a rut yet?”

“No,”

“Then how can you know for sure?”

“Because after I fuck her I don’t have the itch. It’s been gone since the first time.”

Every Alpha knows the feeling. An unsettled urgency in the gut that leaves a constant need for one more round to get it out. Betas do nothing for it. It’s the reason so many of them end up injured or worse by Alphas trying to find satisfaction. Omegas bring well-needed relief, but it’s not complete.

“Seriously?” Dean raises an eyebrow, checking if his brother is indeed serious. “Tell me how a bastard as coldhearted as you ends up with a true mate? That’s the universe fucking the rest of us. You’ve always been fucking lucky.”

“I’m not sure I would call dying in the battlefield and losing my soul, lucky.”

“Maybe it’s not luck, but it’s something.” Dean thinks on this while they ride further. “Do you remember what you were like before?”

“Not that different from now.”

“You wouldn’t recognize yourself. Do you remember when you killed your first man? You were sixteen and you cried for a week.”

“No, I didn’t...did I?”

“You did. I wasn’t sure you’d ever pick up a sword again. You don’t remember, do you?”

“I can’t remember anything from before. Feelings mostly, about dad, you. I have a few specific memories but nothing more than that.”

“When you were little you were a sweet kid. You’d go out and pick flowers for mom. Bouquets of small yellow flowers wrapped up with twine.”

“Stop it,” Sam looks away, shifting in the saddle.

“Call it whatever you want, luck, destiny, but be prepared to put up a fight if you want to keep her after dad gets wind of it. You know how he is about the Omegas. And she’s a prize, he’ll want her to give to some loyal-”

“He can try.” Sam shrugs. “And he’ll fail to take her. He knows better than to cross me.”

“Maybe,” Dean surmises, watching as they come upon the camp.

#soulless!sam x reader #alpha!sam x omega!reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader

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anderseeds · 4 years

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I saw a Witcher/Hellsing crossover mentioned in the tag and I was just inundated with ideas for it, so I’ll ramble here instead of attaching a tl;dr to that post. I’m a huge fan of the Witcher, and yet somehow I’ve never actually considered a Witcher AU for Hellsing (and Andercard of course; it’s my modus operandi). This is based on the Witcher games, books, and a little bit of the The Witcher RPG since the Netflix show isn’t my thing.

First of all, for the unfamiliar:

Witcher = a person (usually as a child) that has been mutated and trained to be a monster hunter. They have greater endurance, enhanced healing, enhanced senses, are able to drink potions that would be deadly to the average person, and can perform a small degree of magic called ‘signs’. One can tell a person is a Witcher by their eyes, since they look like cats eyes. Sometimes Witcher’s have other indications, but the eyes are the most consistent feature.

To become a Witcher, a candidate must go through three trials. All of them are exceptionally difficult and painful. The first two trials, the Trials of Grasses and Dreams, basically break down the body through use of various potions and rebuild it, while the third is basically a test for those who survive the first two trials. Very few children put through the trails survive; sometimes there’s only one survivor among those brought in to undergo the trials, and those who die do so in complete agony. Understandably, many Witcher’s are bitter about this whole ordeal and resent being turned into what they are. Witcher’s are also regarded with suspicion and dislike and no better than the monsters they kill, which makes being a Witcher even more torrid.

Vampires = vampires in the Witcher aren’t like your traditional vampires. They’re a race rather than creatures born of humans and they reproduce as any other creature does. Lesser vampires are generally unintelligent, beastly, bat-like creatures, while Higher vampires are intelligent and near indistinguishable from a human. Higher vampires often live among the other races and can integrate well, though some choose to live only among their own, and a rare few even stay with Lesser vampires. While Higher vampires are very different from their Lesser counterparts, they can turn into giant bats or similar creatures.

Higher vampires also don’t need blood to subsist. They can eat whatever they like, but some vampires do drink blood because blood is addictive to them and offers an experience not unlike drinking alcohol. Blood also has rejuvenating and strengthening qualities to it. Lesser vampires do seem to drink blood as part of their diet.

Honestly, Witcher vampires require a lot of explanation, so here’s the wiki for them. They’re a really interesting take on vampires.

Conjunction of the Spheres = a point in history where different dimensions collided with the world of the Dwarves and Gnomes and various different races fell through rifts and got trapped there. At the time the books start, they’ve all been there for well over a millennia and have thoroughly integrated.

Anderson:

Since Nilfgaard is based on the Roman Empire and has a religion functionally similar to Catholicism, I think it’d be appropriate to place Anderson as being from there. He’d be proud of being Nilfgaardian and would introduce himself as a Witcher of Nilfgaard alongside mentioning his guild. But being a Nilfgaardian Witcher is kind of an oxymoron since the Witcher schools were around before Nilfgaard started spreading through the South, and Witcher’s aren’t actually wanted or really used there anymore... in fact, the school most strongly associated with Nilfgaard - the Viper school, which is where I’m placing Anderson - was straight up destroyed by Nilfgaard. An Emperor (Upsurpur of Fergus var Emreis, specially) tried to take over the School of the Viper, failed, and then the Nilfgaardian army destroyed their keep and banned the Viper Witcher’s from entering core Nilfgaardian cities. Nowadays, most Nilfgaardian’s barely know what Witcher’s even are. Viper Witcher’s are thoroughly displaced; unwanted and relatively unknown in the South, reviled in the North, and with no keep to take refuge in, but Anderson still considers himself Nilfgaardian and is loyal to the Empire and the Great Sun despite no longer being welcome in his home city. He’s also has loyalty to Emhyr because he always regarded Fergus’ son as the rightful Emperor during the Usurpers reign and he’s happy when Emhyr returns to take the throne.

Before all that happened, Anderson grew up in various orphanages in Nilfgaard, going first from a decent one in the City of Golden Towers, and then to an over-packed and impoverished one closer to the border. Support for the orphanage eventually fell through, and almost all the children ended up at the Viper school when a Viper Witcher saw an exciting opportunity to expand the guild and took all the boys. Anderson went on to become a Witcher, while all but one other orphan died during the trials.

The potions used on Anderson were experimental and had a lot of vampire components for regeneration purposes. Anderson has a chip on his shoulder about that and specialises in hunting vampires as both a consequence of his hatred, and because his enhancements make it easier for him than his fellow Witcher’s.

Continuing under the read more since this is getting long.

Since Anderson’s trials emphasised regeneration, he has very accelerated healing and benefits hugely from Witcher healing potions. To accommodate his frequent use of potions, Anderson has a very high tolerance, which has been strengthened by both himself and teachers in his youth by repeatedly testing his limits. In battle, he tends toward longer blades than his fellow Viper’s and keeps a multitude of them on hand. He’s particularly good at using them as projectiles. His signs are used on occasion, but not often; everything but his Yrden and Quen are relatively weak. Sometimes he uses potions to bump up his Igni.

He’s also just a well-read and educated as he is in manga/OVA. The School of the Viper highly valued knowledge, so all Witcher’s received a decent education. Anderson built on this by attending lectures at academy's during his journeying and has visited and appreciated Oxenfurt Academy a few times despite it being a Northern institution.

His visual mutations are fairly mild: bright green, slitted cat eyes and slightly pointed canines. He gets the same sort of toxicity appearance as Geralt in the games if he takes too many potions (reference). He can pretend to be human with some effort, but the eyes are hard to hide since the pupils are slitted and they have a degree of luminescence.

While the keep still stood, Anderson collected information on the Wild Hunt alongside his fellow Witcher’s. He also became a teacher of young Witcher’s, but many of them died during the conflict at the keep and more still when Viper’s had to remain on the path year round instead of wintering at their home. Eventually some of the remaining Viper’s did start wintering at other places/keeps despite their reclusive, secretive nature, but a lot of Viper’s simply remained on the path year round. Anderson is among those who rarely chooses to winter and will instead travel to a warmer climate to do work.

Many provinces in the south are... fairly safe and prosperous, so Anderson often travels around all the Continent to find work. He has some disdain for Northerners like he does Protestants in canon, especially since they treat him like a monster while most Nifgaardian’s don’t even know what he is. Basically, Melitele and the Eternal Fire are stupid, Elves are hot respectable beings, Northerners are barbarians, dwarves and gnomes who??, and god don’t even get him started on Skellige. Typical Nilfgaardian in his opinions.

Alucard:

Alucard is a little harder to figure out since I like to think of Alucard as one of the vampires that arrived during the Conjunction of the Spheres, and we don’t actually know all that much about the world vampires came from... the books have basically nothing. The games expand on vampire lore by giving us three tribes and links to Etruscan civilisation, but its still slim pickings. Since Alucard stayed in society and assimilated, I think it’s fair to say he was part of the Gharasham tribe.

I also think vampires were generally peaceful since if one kills a fellow vampire in the games, they’re rejected and pursued by vampire kind. That might not be the case in the world vampires came from... but since other vampires are the only ones who can kill a fellow higher vampire, they would have to be somewhat peaceful to accommodate their longevity and near inability to die. Alucard might have warred once or twice, but it isn’t until he encounters humans that he really starts going off the rails.

Over a thousand or so years, Alucard kills humans for fun and consumption and gets into human husbandry. When the Witcher’s start being made, numerous of them try to kill him over the years, and all of them fail... until a group surges in together and defeats him. He’s consequently stuck in a state of non-death for a century before a fellow vampire locates him and helps him reform. Luckily, Alucard doesn’t return to his awful ways, because a century of being isolated and stuck in a never-ending state of fear taught him a lesson in basic decency. He develops some respect for humans, and especially for Witcher’s.

His interest turns to observing humans and Witcher’s instead, and they’re a lot more complex and interesting than he gave them credit for. Especially a certain green-eyed Witcher who seems to particularity dislike vampires... he does, however, still indulge in blood on occasion, since he sees no issue with drinking of those who seek battle with him or do ill unto others. Maybe innocents get caught up in that sometimes, but he doesn’t deliberately go after them these days.

On top of being a higher vampire, Alucard would also be an Elder vampire since that seems to be the case for all vampires who came during the Conjunction of the Spheres. It fits the fact that the Elder vampires are incredibly, incredibly powerful beings. Staying true to canon, he’s perhaps the most powerful of Elder vampires, being among the first to arrive and active enough to keep him in peak form, while other Elder vampires are withered recluses.

Since he partakes in so much blood, it could qualify as a drinking problem... but he drinks so much of it that its gotten to the point that it rarely negatively impacts him.

Together:

Alucard finds himself fixated on a vampire hunter Witcher he hears about during his journeying. They clash a few times, and Alucard thoroughly impressed with Anderson’s abilities and it convinces him to tail Anderson through the North (and occasionally in the South). It takes decades for Anderson to warm up to Alucard, but Alucard’s thousands of years old; he can wait! And he does, doggedly pursuing Anderson until they develop an amicable rivalry.

This would probably take place after or before the events of the main books (not the short story ones). Otherwise, there’d be an awful lot going on around them.

#hellsing #alucard #alexander anderson #andercard

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

Photo

Stifling the Howling Wolves

Summary: “Quid Pro Quo, Agatha. Consider it a friendly gesture of sorts. You give me what I want and I’ll return the favor.” The Count offered her a toothy grin and even though she was safe behind the prison wall, the nun still felt a shiver run down her spine. “And what would that be?” She inquired, maintaining her calm, collected state. “I’d love to learn more about you,” he answered simply. “In exchange for your blood, I will tell you everything. Just a small amount. The offer stands.” She thought hard. Harder than she’d ever had. They were losing time. Mina’s life was in mortal danger. She had to make the decision now. “Okay,” she agreed. “You have a deal.”

Ship: Dracula/Agatha

Rating: M (may eventually be change to Explicit)

“Silence of the Lambs!Dragatha”

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Firstly, I want to say welcome! I'm so stoked to be taking on an idea like this! This is dedicated to @mitsukatsu because it's one of her favorite movies and she's been here since day one of planning this. Also almost all characters used in this story are from the show! I really love incorporating all of them in. Anyway, sit back, relax, and enjoy! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated -Jen

Chapter One

Budapest, Hungary

Agent Philip Sokolov wasn't at all bothered by the icy air as he stepped out of the black vehicle and onto the stone walkway. After all, he'd served in the British Royal Navy and knew the cold like the back of his hand. Adjusting the file folder in his grasp, the man's eyes fixed forward, taking in the sight of the large, stone abbey that lay before him. St. Mary's Convent of Budapest, Hungary. A decent sized monastery tucked away from society and the thrills of modern day life. Yet despite this, it hadn't taken him long to locate what he was looking for. Or rather, who.

"Do you really think she'll be able to help? She's a nun after all."

For a Mobile Surveillance Officer, Olgaren tended to stick out like a sore thumb. He was tall, towering nearly fifteen centimeters above the other man and quite burly. And on one or more occasions, his "mouth of a sailor" had gotten him in trouble. Despite this, he had been a reliable and loyal partner, probably one of the only people Sokolov entrusted his life with. But his skepticism on the agent's judgement that day wasn't exactly the most welcoming. Especially since he could very well be putting his job on the line.

"She's our last resort," Sokolov explained as they walked up the long pathway towards the main gate. "If there's the slightest chance she can get something out of him, I'm willing to take it." The two men stopped at the entrance, the former captain now holding the officer's gaze. "Agatha Van Helsing is our only hope."

Olgaren's lips pressed into a firm line, but he offered Sokolov a nod. Further questioning would have to wait. In front of them on the opposite side of the gate, a woman was approaching. Her face was round, framed by a white habit that fell against her dusty blue robes. Sokolov smiled as genuinely as one could as the head nun stopped in her tracks.

"I see you made it here safely," she commented, her eyes looking both men up and down. "The roads can be treacherous."

"We managed just fine," he agreed. "I believe we talked on the phone a few days ago? You're Mother Superior if I'm not mistaken?" Sokolov began to fish in his pants' pocket with his free hand retrieving his wallet. "These are my credentials. I'm from the United Kingdom's Security Service, MI5. Thank you for being so cooperative with us."

"I didn't think I had much of a choice," Mother Superior replied, unlatching the gate. "I must admit I am still confused as to your reasoning for coming here. Besides, of course, wishing to call upon one of my nuns." She took a step back, allowing them passage. "You must understand my concern seeing as our convent has no association with England."

"I apologize for the lack of disclosure. Believe me, if I could, I would answer your questions. But this is a matter of national security. My orders were to talk to Sister Agatha, and to Sister Agatha alone." He gave the woman a sympathetic look to which she merely frowned in response. "Does she know we're coming?"

"She's expecting you, yes." Mother Superior spoke, motioning for them to follow her. "I'll take you to her quarters. I believe she's in there now."

Sokolov had begun to notice multiple pairs of eyes watching him as he made his way down the cloister. Nuns had begun to appear, standing their distance as they whispered to one another. It made him feel strangely uneasy. It wasn't like they were going to do anything. If he had been in their situation, he'd stare too. Doing his best to stay focused, he met the head nun's surprising fast pace until they stood in front of a door.

"She's in there," Mother Superior nodded. "I suppose I'll leave you to your visit then."

The woman turned on her heels and walked away leaving both Sokolove and Olgaren to their own bidding. The taller man glanced over his shoulder before looking back at his partner with a shrug. Sokolov found himself absentmindedly readjusting the folder in his grasp before he raised a fist and gently wrapped on the door.

"Come in."

The door let out a soft creak as the man pushed it open. The room was small, simple with a bed, book shelf, and a desk squeezed into a corner. To Sokolov, it seemed to be a rather boring set up. Then again, this wasn't a lifestyle he'd have chosen.

"You look surprised."

Sokolov's attention turned to a woman, much younger than Mother Superior, sitting at the table. She seemed rather relaxed all things considered, her blue eyes bright, lips curved into a smile. When she stood up, the nun was the first to extend her hand in greeting. Sokolov took it and for a moment was a little taken aback with how strong her grip was.

"If I may apologize for being blunt, but might I ask why you are here?" Agatha smiled looking at either men. "I'm assuming I haven't broken the law. If I had, I think it'd be Hungarian authorities after me, not some men from England."

"No ma'am, you haven't done anything wrong," Agent Sokolov explained quickly. "My name is Agent Sokolov and this my partner-"

"Yes, yes, I know who you are. Mother Superior did inform me that you'd be visiting." The nun said with the wave of her hand. "But I'd like to know what brings you to here." She motioned around her as if to emphasize her point. "You've come a long way."

"Sister Agatha…"

"Please," the woman smiled. "Just Agatha will suffice. No need for such formalities."

"Agatha," the agent corrected. "I suppose there isn't a best way to jump into this discussion, so I'll get right to it. You are the distant relative of Abraham Van Helsing? The vampire hunter?"

"Something tells me you aren't asking me because you want to write a book." The woman replied after a long moment, studying both men's expressions. "Yes, Abraham was my great, great, grandfather. I am very well versed in his history."

"So you know about vampires?" The man ventured.

"Well yes." Agatha chuckled, looking rather amused as if waiting for the punchline of a joke. "But many people do, don't they? While I did grow up being told the legend of my grandfather, one can simply google about the creatures."

"What about Count Dracula?"

The smile faded away from Agatha's face, her expression changing to one of uncertainty. "What about Count Dracula?" As if suddenly concerned by the appearance of her bookshelf, she began to rearrange her books. "He was just a story. Just as all of the other ones were. He never existed."

"But you don't really believe that to be the case, do you?" Sokolov watched as Agatha seemed to hesitate, one hand resting on the wooden case. "Agatha, we're here to tell you that Count Dracula is in fact alive and is being detained in England. Has been for many years now."

She was silent for a moment. "That's not possible." Agatha turned, facing the agents once more. "Count Dracula was said to have died on The Demeter. His body was never recovered, but there was no evidence that he had survived."

"Dracula is a very intelligent and highly skilled man-if you even want to call him that," Olgaren frowned. "He was finally caught in England three years ago when one of his victims managed to escape. Jonathan Harker. When we were able to locate and imprison him at a highly secure facility, we believed that to be the end of things. We paid the Harker family a lump sum of money to remain quiet about what Dracula was and that was that. No need to get the public up in arms. Life had resumed to normal."

"Until very recently," Sokolov finished. "When new cases began to show up. Strange murders that, in a sense, mirrored Dracula's. But at the same time they were different. More...ritualistic. Agatha," he exhaled, looking directly into her eyes. "We believe we are dealing with another vampire. A serial killer at that."

He held out the case file towards Agatha. She eyed it for a moment almost hesitant before accepting it. Sokolov watched as she flipped through its contents, her brow furrowing as she studied the papers from within. After a while she looked up, closing the folder as she did so.

"So why is the MI5 coming to me?" The woman questioned, not offering the file back to Sokolov. "I'm not my grandfather."

"Dracula refuses to talk to anyone," the agent responded, looking from Olgaren and back to the nun. "We're hoping that maybe he'll speak to you. Because of who you are. We need to catch the killer before things get really out of hand and we think that Dracula knows more than he's telling us. That information in the folder alone is what we have on Dracula. If you agree to come with us, we can share with you everything that we can. You'll have our entire archive at your disposal." He inhaled, his tone almost pleading. "England needs you, Agatha. Won't you help?"

XXX

Agatha could count on how many times she'd ridden in a plane on one hand. Her most recent, being many years ago, when she left Holland to join St. Mary's in Hungary. As the plane took off, she relaxed in her seat and gazed out the window as the ground was replaced by the cloud covered sky. It felt surreal leaving the convent. Saying goodbye to her sisters she'd known for so long. But it felt even more bizarre finally having the confirmation that Count Dracula, her family's one true enemy, was alive. Something she had begun to give up hope in learning that was true.

"I want to thank you again for coming."

Sokolov's smile was warm as he took the seat beside her. She straightened up, turning her body to face him. Methodically, he pushed another folder over the tray table towards her. On the opposite side of the plane, Olgaren was fast asleep, snoring rather loudly. Doing her best to block the noise out, she took the file and opened it.

Agatha would be lying if she didn't admit that her stomach immediately twisted at the picture that lay before her. A woman, skin so pale it was almost translucent, was stretched across a long, metal table. Against her own better judgement, she flipped to the next picture. This time she was looking at the neck. At the flawless skin defiled by a set of sharp, fang like marks that dug deep within the flesh. Again she turned to the next image, feeling the bile begin to rise into the back of her throat. Right in the middle of the chest was a large hole as if something big had been shoved into it, penetrating past the rib cage and into the heart itself.

"Kathleen Piper." Sokolov explained as the nun took a moment to collect herself, closing the folder. "She was his second victim, found floating in the Thames. Completely drained of her blood. Based on the particles we found within her chest cavity, the object is always made of wood."

"A stake," Agatha said quietly. "He stakes them."

"We believe so, yes," Sokolov agreed. "Almost as if he is trying to keep them from turning. We don't understand his motive behind that. There's a lot we don't understand which is why we need you." He folded his onto the table. "We've dubbed him the Midnight Slayer. It lacks creativity, but he does only seem to kill at night. All of his victims so far have been young women."

"And that's the reason you've been led to believe he has to be a man?" The woman questioned, a slight frown forming on her lips.

"No," the agent sighed. "It's because the only detail Dracula ever offered up was that we were looking for a man. That's how we know the Count has more information on the case. Which is why we need you. Because maybe he'll open up more to you more than he has to anyone else." He exhaled, running a hand through his graying hair. "Because you're a Van Helsing."

She stared out the window for a bit, watching as the white clouds floated by. Just hours ago, she was just a nun. Living a quiet life, left to her own devices. But now she was being pulled into a horror of a mess. Chaos that involved Count Dracula himself. A monster she had believed to be dead after years and years of researching. And though she wished she could just turn around. Pretend that this never happened. Her curiosity, ambition, and aggravating need to do what's right overweighed that.

"I'll help however I can." She responded, finally returning her attention to Sokolov. "But don't expect any miracles."

The man chuckled at her words. "An odd statement coming from a nun. Aren't you supposed to believe in that sort of thing?"

"I'm not your average sister." Agatha with a small smile, watching as the plane began to descend towards the airstrip below. "Far from it."

"Well, I should hope as much," he agreed. "We certainly do need that." Sokolov sighed, leaning back in his chair momentarily allowing his eyes to close. "We certainly do."

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Stifling the Howling Wolves

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Note

104 for Jack, Sammy and Wally?

104. That’s a fact, Jack.

(I’m gonna do something with my ‘the ink itself frees everybody because Joey didn’t feed it’ Au* as I’ve made memes about it but haven’t written (or posted what I have) anything about it. *Title still a wip)

There were many, many, pros to getting freed from the studio, or rather, the studio's loop in most people's cases. Almost too many for anyone who had the misfortune of once living in it to count. But there were also a fair amount of cons. One of those cons being that it was kinda difficult to sneak ink monsters and living cartoon characters into society without raising suspicions. Thankfully for the group, by the time they got back to civilization it was dark and cold enough for coats, giant hats, and long scarves to be normal wear when out and about, making it easy to hide most of the odder ink monsters. But it was obvious that lingering in heavily packed and bustling cities like New York wasn't the greatest long-term investment.

Another big con was that Sammy went missing shortly after the studio went down once and for all. And as it had happened every time that the mad maestro was taken out of the picture 'for good' in the studio, the lost village was once again in a chaotic uproar that were refusing to listen to Henry, Tom and Allison. This time, with their heightened sentience, these angry ink creatures were mostly vocally angry, there were still some lost ones who got physical with the gang, (but they were rare as most of them feared Tom, Allison, Susie, and Norman enough to not try anything.) and ones who were both.

"Ah, for the love of... not these guys again."

"Liar! Liars all of you!"

"I'm gonna rip you to pieces!"

"Fuck off!"

"You killed him! Again and again you killed him! Every single time... You came to OUR village, you defiled OUR church, you had killed OUR prophet, followed it up by killing all of us as well... And now that he won't come back you expect us to grovel at your feet and obey your every whim?!"

"Behind you, Dumbass!"

"Leave us alone! Don't you think you've done enough?!"

"Start praying!"

"What makes you think you're any different from that lying puppeteer?!"

"You can run from your sins, but you can't hide from them!"

"Get them, get them, get them, get them!"

"Kill them!"

"You Bastards!"

"Just like Joey... Just like Joey... Just like Joey... Just like Joey... Just like Joey... Just like Joey... Just like Joey... Just like Joey..."

"Enough, you sons of bitches!"

"Not again..."

"Go Away!"

"You've led him astray for too long false shepherd, now that you've powerless, you can't expect us to follow you too..."

If it was difficult to herd thousands of ink creatures in general, it was even harder to herd them when they were fraught with worry and despair over their missing prophet as well as furious and terrified of the ones they blamed for his disappearance. Who had unfortunately for Henry, had been himself, Tom, Allison, Susie, and Inky, who was very bitter about learning that pretty much everyone in ‘his’ cult were actually only loyal to the missing musician.

The task of trying to get the lost ones and searchers to not start a giant riot that would cause a global eldritch ink outbreak had fallen to Jack and Wally. As the group had agreed that as they were the ones that Sammy was closest to before the studio fell, they’d be the ones who’d the village would listen to out of everyone who had been on Henry's side.

While it was a good idea on paper, in practice, the reality was that a swollen searcher with a hat and sentience and a talking tape recorder simply didn't make good replacements for the Prophet, let alone convince anyone that they were. However, they were mercifully a lot more civil with the pair than they were with Henry's other friends. Well, at least they were for the most part.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't take you two seriously. As leaders, I mean."

"No thanks, but good luck finding someone who will take you up on that."

"The Prophet was a complete loon, and an idiot for trusting the false shepherd in the first place... But he was a loon who had held us together when no one else would."

"Please just leave."

"You weren't there for us then, how can we trust you to be there for us now?"

"We understand that they fear we'll infect the world, but please tell them that they should at least give us time to grieve. We won't be leaving this place anytime soon to our knowledge."

"...He was more than just our prophet to us you know."

"Count yourself lucky none of us have killed you on the spot yet and just crawl back to your precious 'Creator' already."

"I doubt either of you two together have half the willpower he had."

"...Go Away."

"I want to trust you two... but I don't like that you're trying to replace him. Especially so soon."

After a long day of rejections and getting doors either slammed in their faces or having people awkwardly creaking the door closed in their faces, Jack crawled back to his hotel room, collapsed on the bed and chucked Wally onto the pillow of the other bed. Both glad the day was over and dreading the next one.

"Ugh, what a town..." Jack sighed as he was almost about to melt into bed, he quickly reformed with a sense of chilled dread in his tone "...I don't think that Conner or the Ink Demon will be too happy to hear that they don't plan on leaving."

Static played out of Wally's speakers before the tape recorder man finally got his thoughts together. "...Fuck."

"Fuck indeed." Jack nodded. "Fuck, indeed..."

"What are we gonna do?!"

"Calmly explain to the group that the town needs time to process everything going on before they try getting a new leader. ...And hope that the Ink Demon doesn't try to make the situation worse."

"Uh huh... Easieah said than done. How do we pull THAT off?"

"Good point, um..."

As the two mulled over how to break the news to the group, the phone on the nightstand began to ring. Startling both of them out of their thoughts.

"Should I pick it up?"

"Well I ain't got no arms."

"Oh! right..."

The searcher fumbled with the phone for a bit, almost worried that he accidentally hung up on the mystery caller. But instead, a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hello, Is this Wally and Jack?"

"Sammy! Thank goodness ya called! You've gotta entiah cult dat misses ya! We've trying gettin' them outta the studio, but they won't budge! They'll only listen to you!"

The speaker paused for a moment, almost as if expecting that response and unsure of how to proceed.

"...Well that's awkward because I only called to ask if you two wanted anything from Europe."

"What?!"

"As long as you're asking and if it's not too far out of your way, there's this Spanish nougat called Turrón. I've always kinda wanted to try it."

"Got it. Wally, what about you?"

"Ya gotta be pullin' my leg! You're going to Europe?! Now of all times?!"

"That's a fact Jack."

"I'm not Jack he's ova there!"

"Wally, it means that I'm not discussing this any further. And in this case, I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"I...!"

Wally thought this through. He knew Sammy and he knew that if he tried to push any more than he already was, he'd only shove him away, possibly when he'd be in danger too. But if he didn't, he'd lose the precious opportunity to get information on where the musician went. But if he did, he'd do unrepairable damage to his relationship with the man who had done everything in his power to keep him and his family off of the streets in his time of need. But if he didn't, Thomas would be mad at him if he told him about talking to Sammy.

He made up his mind.

"...Fine. Get me... da weirdest thing ya can find an' buy in a foreign gas station."

"Got it."

"And Stay safe, ya hear me! I don't wanna hear ova da news dat ya got yerself killed ova somethin' stupid okay?"

"Okay, you two stay safe as well. Bye guys."

"Bye."

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #wally franks #the lost ones #fanfic #studio escape au

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lilmajorshawty · 5 years

Text

The isolated Lovers : Saturn in the 5th & 11th

(Billie Eilish - Bitches Broken Hearts)

I think Saturn in the 5th and Saturn in the 11th people are the hardest to get to know. Saturn in the 5th can take intimacy as a whole extremely serious which makes it harder for potential love interest to decipher whether or not your actions make a difference with them. Saturn in the 11th housers take their futures and long term goals seriously so it can seem as if they have a countinuous high growing wall of separation to those who are trying to become their friends or invite them into a social circle and or group. Saturn in the 5th housers can seem more stoic and somber than a Capricorn sun. And Saturn In the 11th housers can seem more detached and impersonal than Aquarius moons.

To get close to these individuals takes TIME! Instant gratification types won’t work well with these people as they need time to get comfortable with the idea of YOU. They don’t jump into any type of commitment no matter what or how good it seems on the onset. Both of these types of people think about long term and wether or not what the person is offering them will stand the test of time.

Saturn in the 5th: “I want love that wakes up with me even when the dirt lays utop my bones”

Winning them over is difficult but a good starting point is being consistent! Be open about your feelings for them as well as even if they do know how you feel, depending on what point in their life you catch them they might’ve been through quite a bit that’s made them very mature so reading in between the lines is childish to them! They prefer direct people who are straight up about what they want and how they feel! So do not be afraid to be straight up and tell them.

Part two: they don’t start relationships off the bat and it may be quite sometimes(and on their time at that) until they decide to start or make the relationship start. This is because they LOVEE stability and foundation and they want to build something that’s stable and will last! So they will test your level of maturity, your reliability, your commitment and honesty and will likely REALLY observe how invested you are in your feelings! Many feel as though feelings change and because of this they refuse to trust any display of “I like you” and so on. They need action to really solidify things. So it may sound boring but stick with it! Be patient! Be sturdy and most importantly be your bubbly and or serious self! Don’t alter your personality for them! Trust! They enjoy you being yourself! They mainly just observe your dedication and depth as to wether or not they want to take your offer seriously. These are some of the most INTIMATE and caring lovers you can ever have! They would sacrifice and move worlds for you! It’s up to you if you’re willing to stick around the training wheels phase.

Part three: the training wheels phase can last awhile! Unlike Saturn in the 11th though you won’t be waiting for your whole life. It could simply be months or a year depending on who you are and who the person is. That being said! If they give you their time, isolate themselves, get a tad bit more serious and dry or even let you know things about their personal life that causes them to take things slow then they have feelings for you and you’ve likely tugged their heart strings in a way! Good for you :). So just stay confident and positive and they’ll soon open up even more but this time on a deeper emotional level! These natives are very romantic and traditional in their approach but man oh man will they give you everything they have! They tend to make their love interest their world so they often times take quite a bit of time to make sure they are healthy emotionally to handle such a deep commitment.

Saturn in the 11th house: “I want to be seen...really seen, seen for what I am, not what they want me to be”

These people are naturally detached and have a streak of impersonal approaches to people and society as a whole. To some people this impersonal attitude can seem like a magnet or attraction as they have no problem at attracting admirers, friends and lovers alike. That being said these people tend to be Hard as hell to get close too, dare I say even more so then Saturn in the 5th. They don’t like intimacy mainly because they’d have to be vulnerable and show their soft parts, the parts they work so hard to hide. Friendships tend to be an area of seriousness for them because they’ve been so used and taken advantage of by others as they grew up. These natives learn early on not to trust the situations that seem so easy and fun, they aren’t the types to hold tight to people for long and have no problem letting people go or moving on as if it were absolutely nothing. It may seem harsh but these people simply just don’t need you and won’t pretend like they do, they are far beyond that. If you intend to get close to them you have to understand Saturn isn’t uncomfortable in the house of Aquarius! Saturn co rules Aquarius after all. These natives value authenticity and stability. They are tremendously goofy and spacious individuals who are actually pretty dark and ingenious! They crave being able to express their true selves around people who understand and somewhat relate to their crazy out there personalities. Because of this they tend to have high standards for long term friendships and tend to take a few years before really considering someone even a “friend”

Part one: these people don’t consider people best friends and hardly throw the word around unless they’ve known the person near damn their whole life. These people can become very detached the more someone tries to become more intimate or get closer to them on a friendship level. They tend to loathe a lack of a connection and of they ever feel as though they have to pretend or wear a face to be around you they won’t readily consider you as a friend and dare I say they might never. To get close to them you have to understand that they want to be accepted for who they are and not who you want them to be! They instinctually people please so getting to know them is not triggering this response out of them! Be as goofy and “yourself” as you possibly can! Much like Saturn in the 5th these people want to see someone’s most authentic self and someone who is faking it or wearing mask and playing mental gymnastics won’t really fit because the 11th house Saturn native will reply by simply being fake and superficial in response.

Part two: they can be incredibly intimate and VERY PROTECTIVE AND LOVING friends who accept their lovers and friends for all that they are flaws and all! But the one issue here is that they can lack the ability to fake it or be artificial for too long. They like real and can have a very serious and mature view about what real community looks like, what real friendship and acceptance looks like! So if they ever get the vibe that your specific social group lacks foundation and proper knowledge they might write it off, if your offer for friendship seems forged in “I’m lonely and you’re available” they’ll be kind and sweet but they’ll never let you in emotionally. If you want them for their bodies or what they give to you on an emotional level as a lover, you’ll never really have them or know them on any level deeper than a kiss. They are people who crave a long term group or friendships that they can truly

Love and enjoy but most times they don’t get this and remarkably they attract a lot of older or Capricorn like friends who adore their company! They can seem sooooo tasty to the world because of their bubbly and lovely personality, their ability to read through people and their acceptance of others of all walks of life. That being said they don’t know how to pretend.. they can’t

Part three : to be close to these natives is more simple than you think. It’s about being yourself and knowing yourself. These natives have very good self awareness and from an early age they are able to self reflect and understand who they are. Because of this quality they look for self assured and stable friends who have a far out and rather open and free spirited nature. If you’re insecure then these might not be the friends for you. If you’re possessive and untrusting these might not be the people for you. If you’re shallow and vain then these won’t be the people for you. They adore people who are comfy with themselves and who are mature with a fun little mixture of unique and individualistic! Many love loner types and are ones themselves! If you have your eye on one platonically or romantically understand that the friendship won’t start over night! There will be withdrawal periods and times where they seem rather serious and detached and maybe even disappear of the grid multiple times but as the years pass you’ll notice they become more responsive, reliable and deeply caring and understanding. They are loyal as hell and will ride for their friends but it takes time to get there and it’s a ride you’ll have to stick through.

I’ve noticed that people with these Saturn placements tend to be drawn to one another and or they tend to have a very strong connection. Saturn in the 5th housers understand the need to be seen in Saturn in the 11th housers, the need to be accepted and understood, but they also understand the need for something real and Honest. Saturn in the 11th housers understand the 5th house Saturn natives need for privacy, integrity and stability. They understand their need for real intimacy and real deep compassion and depth. This is one of my favorite natal connections between two people! Almost second to someone with Pluto in the 6th falling for someone with Pluto in the 2nd. That being said, I sometimes believe that Saturn in the 11th housers do prefer to be alone as opposed to being with another person. It’s not out of being promiscuous or unable to settle down, rather it’s the inner revelation that no body will ever really “see” them.

This is is just a preview of the upcoming Saturn in the houses post. I will be redoing these two house placements in the post as well but I wanted to give them a private separate write up. The movie end of the f***ing world is a heavily saturnain movie and I do believe both of them had these two placements. Which is why they were so deeply magnetized to one another. But maybe why in the end he was the one running off and she the one caught(safely). And his status left rather ambiguous towards the very end.

#mine #saturn in the 5th house #saturn in the 11th house

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newbyimagines · 5 years

Text

What Was Lost Part 2

Ragnarsson x reader

Summary: The tea is being served today and don’t worry there is more to come.

Part 1:

AO3: Next Chapter posted

Master List

Sitting alone with Ubbe without talking was letting my mind spiral until I decided to ask what I had been wondering. “How do you all know each other?” “We’re all brothers.” That explained the dynamic between all of them a lot more. “Ubbe, is anyone going to tell me how I ended up here?” He let a long sigh knowing that the subject would have to be talked about. “It’s a long story really and this isn’t the right place for it. I want to explain things but maybe after we get you home Lacuna.” I was terrified of what the truth was because he seems afraid to tell me. “Can you trust me that you’ll be safe?” His eyes pleaded for me to say yes but I didn’t know the man in front if me. “Ubbe it’s hard for me to say yes to that. I don’t know you or your brothers, hell I don’t even remember what kind of degree I graduated college with. How can I put blind faith in this situation?” “You never graduated, you dropped out in the middle of your junior year to do street art at least that's what you told me. You then got a job as a tattoo artist a year later, you went to that bar Hvitserk told you about and that’s where we first met. Hvit called me to help get you back to your apartment because you were to drunk to ride on his motorcycle.” That did not sound like me, I’d always fell in the normal margins of society. Slipping between the cracks to go unnoticed. “I dropped out of college? That’s a lie I would never do that.” “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie to you and say that you graduated and took some boring corporate job?” he was becoming defensive as we talked. "Do you really think that if you lived an unhappy life you couldn't leave?" His hand squeezed around mine as he spoke. "I'm sorry it's a lot to take in okay? I don't know any of you, nobody has told me what happened, and I am terrified. So yelling at me is not helping anything and if you want to be mad at me for not knowing everything than you can get your ass out of here because I don't need you." "Don't say that." He stood from the bed dropping my hand taking a step away. "We can work through this we all just need to stay calm." "From what I've seen that's impossible, especially because of the last half hour you've all either ran off or acted like I am a child who couldn’t handle the truth." "We can fix this we just all need to be patience." "Fix this? Ubbe if I don't get my memory back what was will never be the same as it was before." "I have to believe that things will be okay." He got up and left the room before you could respond again. Ivar came back in the room alone and actually looked me in the eye. "Doctor said that you have your MRI in 20 minutes." "Thank you." I waited until he sat down on the bed and looked at me and I could see how hurt he was. He got up to leave but I didn't want to be alone. "Ivar, I am sorry I don't remember you." He stopped dead in his tracks, I could see the debate on his face between rage or sympathy. "I really shouldn't be around you right now." "I know your mad, I can see it, this whole situation sucks but I can't do this alone." "If I stay things are going to happen that I can't take back." Hvitserk was standing by the door listening in on the conversation. Ivar had always tried to hide his rage from you but this was worse than usual because he was angry at you for not knowing him. Hvitserk had seen the bond you’d shared with him over the last two years and Ivar depended on it. "I am terrified and I'm sorry if I did something to make you angry," My voice started cracking as I felt tears roll down my cheeks. Hvitserk left the doorway as I spoke because his first reaction was to rush to my side. Engulfing me in a hug rubbing my back gently as I slowly calmed down. Ivar rushed out probably trying to avoid his brother accusing him of making me cry. I could hear the sound of something breaking and shattering echo down the hall followed by shouting in a foreign language. How on earth did I understand some of that? "Everything will be alright Princess." Once I caught my breath I pulled away from him, "You are so strong, I know that no matter what is going to happen you are going to make it through." that caused me to cry even harder.

POV CHANGE... (omniscient narration/detached observer)

"She is afraid of us." Hvitserk sat on the hospital bed with his feet on the edge of the frame so his knees were close enough to rest his forearms on them and lean forward toward his brothers. "Well she has no idea who we are." Sigurd commented from his perch at the window watching the day pass outside. "How are we going to explain this to her? I started talking to her and she doesn't believe the choices she made before she met us, how are we going to explain things like our relationship?" Ubbe ran his hands over the top of his head before going down his face to stroke his beard in thought. "Guys she is still Lacuna. It'll take time for the waters to calm." Sigurd wasn’t afraid to voice his opinion to his brothers despite the animosity between them after the accident. "Sigurd she was shot by some maniac and fell out a window, and the only reason that she was there is because we couldn't keep our lives separate." Ubbe dropped his hands from his face to glare at Sigurds stoic expression. "You act like she did not choose her own actions." Sigurd defended his stance to his brothers. "All I am going to say is that maybe this is for the best, if she doesn't remember anything then she isn't in danger." Voiced Bjorn from behind the chair of his little brother. "Or she'll end up a helpless target for those who knew her. She's basically blind. She lost years of her memories, years of meeting people we later crossed. Those people will remember her even if she doesn't." Ivar twisted his frame to look up at his older but, in his opinion much, less intelligent brother. "You idiots are in really deep this time." Bjorn didn’t indulge Ivars constant need to pick a fight by staying out of it all. "We were not the only ones involved of this Bjorn you can't just wash your hands of the situation because you can't accept her fate." Sneared Ivar. "No Ivar I can wash my hands of this because I was not the one who dragged her into all of this and almost got her killed." Bjorn lectured his brothers before about the danger of including her in their lives. He’d lost his first wife to this and didn’t want his brothers to experience the loss. "We can't change the past but we also can't just leave her. I made a promise to her and unlike you I keep promises." Ivar was loyal until he felt betrayed, Lacuna had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty. "Stop bickering like morons about who did what. What matters is how we are going to handle the situation from here on out." Hvitserk crossed his arms over his knees as he rolled his eyes listening to the same arguments on repeat. "He's right, how are we going to tell her everything?" "If we tell her everything," Everyone looked to Ivar as if he said something between unthinkable and genius. "I hate saying this but that is a fair point, the less she knows the less danger she is in but as grumpy pointed out we can't abandon her either." Sigurd resumed his usual banter with his brothers. "I refuse to go back to lying to her all the time. She hated it and we were all miserable." Hvitserk stood up about to remind his brothers what happened when she had assumed that they were liars and cheats. "Her MRI is going to be done soon so let's just make sure she can get home safely." They all stopped talking when the door opened to see the doctor without Lacuna in tow. "Did something happen? Do you have results?" Being the closest to the doctor Hvitserk spoke up. "Not yet gentlemen it'll take some time before we have clear results but when looking over her x-rays I found something interesting." They all sat on edge waiting for the doctor to continue. "Her pelvis seems to have been widening at the bottom." "Okay?"Bjorn retorted, "What of it?" "She was pregnant." "Was?" Ivar growled glaring daggers at the doctor. "She must have lost the child recently. But it was before she was here." The doctor defended himself to not incur the wrath of the five men in front of him. "Can you tell who the father was?" Ubbe looked down at the floor quickly before looking to the doctor. "I can't do a paternity test without the fetus. I am sorry for the loss but I thought I would inform you all." the doctor walked away from the odd bunch. Despite them being there for multiple days he still couldn't place who the primary relationship was. They sat quietly as the news sank in.

Chapter 3 already available on AO3

Tags:

@walkxthexmoon

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 5 years

Text

Last Breath-Damon Salvatore Imagine

Requested: No

Warnings: angst and a death scene

Gif is not mine, all credit goes to the original creator

I want to die...I want to die right now! my mind screamed, but all that came out of my mouth was another groan.

Chills swept over my body as well as another wave of heat. For vampires, the werewolf bite was the equivalent of getting the flu and tuberculosis in the same day. For hours, I had been vomitting, shaking, groaning, and----my least favorite----hallucinating. If I had an ounce of strength, I would have ended all of it as soon as that idiot, Tyler, sunk his teeth into my neck. His shocked brown eyes were permanently imprinted in my mind. If he had a choice, I didn’t think that he would have bitten me since we were cordial, but it was his fault that he fell under Klaus’ spell.

Klaus.

I gritted my teeth merely at the thought of the psychopathic hybrid that had been terrorizing me for decades. However, he moved onto my friends since he came to Mystic Falls and while I did my best to protect them, the smirking dolt had centuries on me. The best part of the whole situation is he is the only one who can cure me, but he would never do anything to help me.

“I like watching you writhe,” he once whispered in my ear, “like a mouse caught in a trap, desperately clawing for freedom, but never quite getting there.”

Sadistic piece of----

Damon burst into the bedroom in a blur and was at my side in seconds. He would have looked normal if his short, dark hair was not messier than usual and his black button-down was not so haphazardly buttoned. His ice blue eyes darted around the room for a moment before focusing on me.

“Feeling any better? I guess that’s a stupid question,” he muttered.

“So stupid.”

No one in Mystic Falls would believe that the eldest Salvatore was actually a big softie once one got to him. Though, there was not a doubt in my mind he would rather be downing a bourbon bottle than trying to find another way to help get rid of the venom coursing through my veins because I know I wanted the same.

“I’m going to assume that all efforts to procure the cure were fruitless,” I breathed.

“Caroline is still working on Klaus, Elena is trying to get Rebekah to help, Bonnie and Stefan are researching, and I am trying to find any other hybrids who could help.” Damon pressed his lips together.

“That answers my question.” I tried to roll over to face him better, but Damon put his hand on my back and assisted.

He sat down next to me and moved the y/h/c hair away from my clammy face. Despite my situation, I was vain and did not want one of the most gorgeous men alive to see my dying form. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me in closer.

“You don’t get to try to run away from me, not now,” he said.

He looked down at me with so much concern and sadness. Damon had to know that I was not going to make it out of this one and it was awful because I didn’t want to leave him. We had been through some of the worst moments of modern day history together and I couldn’t truly imagine life without him and I guessed that he felt the same.

“I’ve never run away from you, Damon, but I still have pride in the way I look and I would rather you not see me like this.”

“You are such a southern belle,” Damon teased. “And I don’t care about how you look; I’m spending as much time with you as possible.”

I smiled at the warm feeling pooling at the pit of my stomach and cuddled into Damon’s arms. “That’s sweet, but you avoided the question.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Damon, I will win this argument anyway, so it is better for you to admit while you’re ahead.”

Damon rolled his eyes but looked down at me. “Y/N, I’ve always thought you were beautiful and no situation could ever change that, but you are so much more than that. You’ve put up with me for sixty years, and with Stefan even longer. Sometimes, I don’t know how you kill the people that we have become friends with, but I know it’s because that you are a good person----the best person I have ever known.”

His words immediately sliced through my heart like a knife. Damon could be so sincere sometimes that it put Stefan’s diary confessions to shame. I wanted to stay with him, feel his arms around me, kiss him, but I also wanted the pain to end. If Damon knew that I wanted to die, it would break him, and I could never forgive myself for hurting the man I loved most. So, I had to keep smiling through it because if I broke, Damon would as well.

I cupped his face with my hands. “Why do you have to be so sweet now?” I pecked his lips, moved to pull away, but Damon held me there. He kissed me back harder and gently pushed me further onto the bed. I kissed back and nipped his bottom lip as I pulled away. “I love you, Damon Salvatore, and you are not a terrible person. You are incredibly loyal, strong, and caring, you only need to let more people in.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You need to.” I kissed him again and let him cuddle me. As I stared in the direction of the window, I was stunned to see a familiar face.

He was tall, slim, and wearing a dark suit that could only be found in a history museum. His hair was clean and y/e/c eyes as shiny as ever, but his expression was stiff.

“Michael?” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“You’ll be coming with me soon,” he drawled. “Didn’t want to startle you too much.”

“Y/N?” Damon asked.

Tears brimmed my eyes and I felt my throat begin to constrict. “Michael, I am so sorry. I know those words aren’t enough to even begin to apologize.”

“Y/N.”

Michael walked closer, his expression hardening more. “You’re right, Y/N, it isn’t enough. I have been watching you galavant around the world and kill other people for one hundred and twenty-three years. I have been waitin’ for this moment and it will be sweeter than Mama’s cherry pie.”

I shook my head. “Michael, I didn’t wanna hurt you, honest, and I know I probably deserve every bit of revenge you wanna wreak on me, but you must know that not a day goes by where I would kill to go back and keep you safe?”

“It’s funny hearing you say that, but as soon as you cross, I’ll be waitin’ for ya, and your little abilities ain’t gonna mean a thing here.”

Michael slowly began to fade away and I wanted to grab him, but thanks to the venom and Damon’s grasp, I couldn’t move. I watched the life fade out of my brother for a second time and it made me want to die even more.

“Michael,” I whispered. “Michael, come back, please!”

Damon pulled me into his chest and I cried, shoulders shaking. I couldn’t get the image of Michael’s face paling as I continued drinking from him. If I had any control over myself in that moment, I certainly wouldn’t have done it.

“There you go, darling,” Kol whispered, “that’s a good girl.”

It was another dark night in New Orleans and while most of the people were in clubs, the upper crust of society was attending some congressman’s wife’s autumn gala. The waning noise of the trumpet still rang in my ears as I kept my brother quiet, putting one hand over his mouth, and drinking the life from him. His blood was warm and rich, probably due to the fact that Mama and Father insisted on him having a bloody steak for dinner every night.

No one would have believed that I, Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of Mr. Y/F/N and Mrs. Y/M/N Y/L/N, the socialite, would kill her beloved little brother. But there I was, in the dark forest that accentuated the hundreds of acres the congressman owned, making sure my brother died so that I could live. My inner self was screaming at me to stop, but the new vampire side of me was hungrier than ever. When I stopped, Michael was as white as a sheet. He leaned against the grand oak tree like a ventriloquist doll, waiting for someone to start using him as a puppet. I stared at Michael in awe and shock, but at the same time, I was a zombie under Kol’s spell. Kol, the Mikaelson brother I found so charming and sweet. The one I was considering allowing to court me. He was standing next to me, looking incredibly proud of his work.

“Leave him and come with me. You will not worry about anything that has happened here,” Kol said.

And I didn’t worry for a long time.

“Y/N!” Damon yelled.

I broke out of the flashback and stared up at his concerned gaze. “Michael, he was right there.”

“You have a bad fever, but you’ll be okay.”

“What time is it?” Damon hesitated. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Must be close then.” I winced as more chills and pain ran through me. “Klaus is not gonna give me any kind of cure, no matter what Caroline offers.”

“No, it’s possible---”

“No, it isn’t.” I took a deep breath. “Damon, I never told you this, but Klaus has every reason to let me die.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A few years after Kol turned me, I lived with the Mikaelsons and I knew everything to know about them, including how to kill them or paralyze them for awhile. All of those siblings had white oak stakes to symbolize their union as well as the fact that they were equally threatening to each other.” I hissed as another tremor of pain ran up my spine. “I lived a pretty decent life with them: nice clothes, fresh blood, high society parties and it was nice for a while. One day, I overheard Klaus telling Kol to get rid of me, that I was too much of a liability. Of course, Kol agreed with his older brother but wanted to take me out in his own way. I was foolish enough to think we were friends.”

“What did you do?”

“I left them as quickly as I could and stole Kol’s white oak stake. That night, I killed this young woman Klaus was seeing at the time while she slept and woke him up by stabbing him through the heart with Kol’s stake.” I sighed. “Of course, I did not let Kol get off easy either, and I took one of Klaus’ silver stakes and ran it through him. He probably thought it was Klaus’ doing since he went through a phase of paralyzing his siblings whenever he was having a mood.”

“You killed Klaus?” Damon whispered.

“Technically, but of course, he couldn’t stay dead. When he came back, I knew he was going to get revenge on me somehow and Klaus always loved being dramatic in his cruelty.”

Suddenly, I started coughing violently and Damon’s grip tightened around me. When I pulled away, I realized black blood covered my hands.

“I’ll kill him,” Damon swore.

“That is sweet, but you will have to get in line. Klaus has about a dozen enemies for each year that he’s lived.” I brushed my finger along Damon’s cheek. “But I am grateful for the Mikaelsons since if they had not turned me, I would have never met you in New York all those years ago.”

Damon smirked. “That was a good night, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, until you almost got us thrown out of the bar for that fight.”

“The guy deserved it.”

We spent a long time simply talking about old memories and I think it was to help Damon cope more than me. On the other hand, talking about the past was a decent distraction from the pain. As the sky grew darker, I was feeling weaker, but the last thing I wanted was for Damon to sense this.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” Stefan said as he walked into the room with Bonnie trailing behind him.

“The only thing we could find was a spell that may help you live a few hours longer,” Bonnie admitted with the smallest of smiles.

“May? So, it could kill her for all you know?” Damon snapped.

I placed my hand on Damon’s chest and shushed him. “They did their best, Damon.”

Bonnie walked over and sat next to me. “I’m going to miss you so much, you made everyone and everything sane.”

“You all will be fine,” I said, squeezing her hand gently.

“Damon, we need to talk,” Stefan said gently.

“We can talk here.”

“Not about this.”

“Oh, go talk to your brother, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Damon didn’t look convinced, but kissed the top of my head before reluctantly following Stefan out of the room. I turned to Bonnie and smiled.

“I’ll never forget the first day we met,” Bonnie said.

“I don’t think I will either; you and Elena thought that I was with Stefan and didn’t believe me until Damon showed up and declared that I was his girlfriend.” I cringed slightly at the memory, making Bonnie laugh. “But I do remember that I sensed that magic in you before you sensed it yourself, not to sound cheesy or anything. You are a skilled witch, Bonnie, and you need to stick around the group because they need you so much more than they’ll admit right now.”

Tears welled up in Bonnie’s round brown eyes. “Why do you have to be so nice as you’re dying?”

“You say that as though I wasn’t nice when I was alive,” I teased.

“Damon’s going to go insane without you.”

“No, he’s not, because you are going to keep him in check, it’ll be a team effort but I think you’ll help the most.”

It was a terrible kind of funny how people did not recognize their worth and someone else had to tell them. Bonnie was going to be the most important part of the group even though she had always been; she was simply unappreciated. Caroline would definitely prove that she was more than a pretty blonde because she had so much more intelligence than she let on. Then, there was Stefan, who wanted to do so much better than Damon and be so much better than he used to be. Something told me that somewhere along the way, the two brothers’ roles would reverse and the only one who could help pick up those pieces was Elena.

Elena.

There was so much strife surrounding her and it extended to anyone who was near her. I hoped that she would stop playing the damsel in distress and take ownership of her life. Even though they are immortal, Stefan and Damon could not always be there for her.

Somewhere along the line, I entered a fog with Bonnie and the whole room seemed cloudy, as though I was just waking up from a long sleep and my eyes had not adjusted to the room. I could not tell whether or not I had told Bonnie all my thoughts or kept them to myself.

Then, someone else entered the room and they were wearing a lot of perfume.

“You have a vistor,” Stefan said.

“My, my, Y/N, you look bloody awful.” I blinked and saw the hazy outline of straight blonde hair.

“Rebekah, what are you doing here?”

“Leave us, I want to have a final talk with her.”

“It’s fine,” I said when no one started moving.

Rebekah refused to speak until the door closed behind the last person. “How long did you think Nik was going to let you live after the stunt you pulled?”

“There is no telling with him,” I said.

“I must say, your actions towards my brothers were heinous and I hate you for what you did to them.”

“I only did what you could not.”

“Excuse me?” Rebekah hissed.

“You would always threaten them, but never act, I acted because my life was in danger, but you’re their sister, the worst they would have done is paralyze you, but bring you back. Now, I am lying here, slowly losing my vision and my life.”

“It was your own doing.”

“Did you come to see me just put more salt on the wound?”

Rebekah hesitated. “No, I came to tell you that I admired what you did all those years ago, that foolish courage that I never thought could come from a southern debutante. In another life, perhaps we could have been friends.”

“Perhaps, but you Mikaelsons typically travel light.”

“We make exceptions. You know, I did quite enjoy you for those few hundred years as did Kol.”

“Thank you, but Kol enjoys anyone who will kill with him.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Rebekah.”

When she left, Damon came back in and knelt at my side. “You can’t see anymore?”

“No, but I don’t think it matters too much.” I sighed. “Midnight is coming faster than I thought it would.”

“There is still time to get the cure,” Damon said.

“Even if I were to get it, Klaus will not stop until he thinks he has gotten revenge on me and hurt me as much as he believes I hurt him.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Damon muttered, framing my face with his hands. “I love you.”

“I love you too and I would stay if I could, but I can’t.” I felt tears burning, itching to come out, but I forced myself to remain calm. “Promise me that you won’t let yourself fall into a dark place again, I need you to be happy, you can live without me, you’ve done it before.”

“That was different, I didn’t care about anyone but myself, but then you came along and...and you made me feel human again. I was so happy and now, the one thing that makes me feel human and sane is being taken away from me.”

“Promise me, Damon, I need you to promise me.”

“I promise.” He kissed me.

“When the veil thins, I will be here to visit you, everyone, really.”

“You better.”

As the time drew closer, I kept having more immersive memories. At one point, I was back in Florence with Kol and we were taking turns ferociously drinking from bar maids. At another point, I was dancing in Miami in the 1940s with some girls I’d met. Then, I was sent back to when I was six and learning how to horseback ride in the fields with my brother, my father, and Timothy, the instructor my parents had hired. Every time I came back to reality, I felt sicker and sicker. Bonnie, Stefan, and Elena hung around the room, but Damon was the only one who stayed inside. I could hear them murmuring about me and speculating what Caroline could be up to at that moment, but I did not care about the cure. I wanted to die, I wanted the suffering to end, but I knew that if I did it on my own accord, it would damage everyone else around me and I did not want to hurt them in my last moments.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Five minutes to midnight,” Damon whispered, holding me against his chest.

“We had a good run, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but I will get you back as soon as possible.”

“I do not think that is a possibility for me.”

I kissed him one last time as my vision grew darker, tasting the saltiness from his tears on my lips. When I pulled away, my vision was fully restored and I was in a crowded bar in Manhattan. Little Richard was blaring from a jukebox and everyone was dressed to the nines. I looked down and saw that I was wearing my favorite white cap-sleeved dress with red cherries on it. I pushed my way past the droves of people and sat down at the bar. The bartender leaned over to me.

“I’d like a gin and tonic please,” I said.

“Comin’ right up, sugar.”

“Nice dress,” someone said behind me.

I turned and came face to face with the most startling blue eyes I’d ever seen. When I blinked, I saw that they wre perfectly suited for the owner’s chiseled face. Instead of being slicked back, his short dark hair was falling into his eyes. He wore a black leather jacket and black jeans, but not like a greaser, more like Elvis but cooler.

“You like cherries?”

“Only when they’re on that dress, on you.” I smirked. “How many times have you used that line?”

“Just once on you.” The stranger sat next to me.

“I did not say that you could sit next to me.”

“How else am I supposed to get to know the pretty girl in the pretty dress?”

“You think you are quite smooth.”

“So they tell me.”

“Here’s your gin and tonic,” the bartender said as he slid the glass in front of me.

“Put it on my tab, along with whatever else she drinks tonight,” he smirked at me.

“Thank you...”

“Damon.”

“Y/N.”

While I usually did not entertain flirtations like this, there was something about this handsome stranger that told me this was something quite different.

When Y/N’s body went cold and limp, Damon could hardly keep it together. The light was no longer in those y/e/c eyes that could see through everything anad everyone. The color was drained from her y/s/c face and would not come back unless they figured something out. At the very least, Y/N looked peaceful and Damon could have sworn that he saw a smile on her y/m/s lips. Tears freely flowed down his face and all he wanted to do was scream, yell, and kill someone, but that’s not what Y/N would have wanted. After a long time, Damon managed to compose himself and tuck Y/N into the bed they shared. He walked out of the room and faced his brother and his brother’s friends.

“She’s gone,” he muttered.

“I’m so sorry, Damon,” Stefan said as he patted his shoulder.

“Not as sorry as Klaus will be when I get my hands on him.”

“We’ll worry about Klaus some other time, it’s okay to grieve,” Bonnie said.

Damon nodded absentmindedly and went downstairs to the bar to pour himself a drink. The others followed and spread themselves out throughout the living room, observing his actions carefully. The silence was heavy and awkward since no one knew exactly what to say.

“I can’t believe she’s really gone,” Elena whispered and allowed Stefan to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

Suddenly, Caroline burst through the door, eyes searching the room until they landed on her friends. “There you are! Why haven’t you guys been answering your phones? I have good news.”

“Not now, Care,” Bonnie said.

“What do you mean? I finally got Klaus to give up the cure.” Caroline held up the vial of blood as though it was a badge of honor instead of a badge of tragedy.

#vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #damon salvatore imagine

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darrowsrising · 5 years

Note

You know, I will just throw questions back at you if you don't mind because I can finally scream with people! Tell me about your favorite RR characters aswell, please? ♥

I never mind people asking me things about RR. I love this series with my heart and soul and everything in between. Also, stop apologizing to me about long posts regarding RR, I love them and I have lots of long rants to confirm that.(don’t search for them, they are full of spoilers…and my distaste for Dancer and Roque!) Also, I’ll try not to spoil the fun for you…

Darrow:

My absolute favourite. I love him to bits, he’s my precious, murderous baby! I’d start a #DarrowDefendingSquad or a #DarrowPreciousMurderousBabyBoy, but that’s not my style. Or his style for that matter. He can take care of himself, 75% of the time…the other 25% is not really up to him (it’s a combo of his friends and pure luck).

Jokes aside now, Darrow’s feelings and realness always got to me. When I started reading Red Rising I was 17 and I was recovering from a very bad…burnout (I went to see a psychologist and she told me that I was hurting emotionally from many bad things happening at once, but it wasn’t like…depression or anxiety per se). His feelings, whether it was rage or kindness or anything in between, were so valid to me. He reminded me that it’s perfectly alright to have confidence in yourself, to go after what you want, to be proud of yourself, to love again (friends, lovers, whatever) and many other things. I was at my lowest then and he showed me that ambition is not a dirty word, that confidence in yourself isn’t a bad thing and even if these things intimidate the people around you, they are valid and you shouldn’t be ashamed of despicting such things.

That made me relate to him a lot. I still find myself (whenever I revisit the books) being like “mood” or “same” or “that’s my boy” or “my pride and joy” or “Hail Reaper” at many of his thoughts, actions and one liners. I will always love him, although he is very thick headed sometimes and that’s annoying.

Mustang:

She is my favorite female character. I love the fact that despite growing up with Nero au Augustus as a father and Adrius as a twin, she is still kind. She is also fair, open-minded and highly intelligent. And strong in more ways than one. I love that she is multi-faceted (although haters think she is bland and 2D…Pixies, where? Did we read the same books?) and despite her family and the way she was brought up, she finds it hard to pretend and is mostly genuine (unless she has a plan). I love how she doesn’t give (to use Sevro’s terminology) two squirts of piss over the title of heir of House Augustus, although she’s more than capable to fill in the spot. But she’s more concerned with making the world a better place (she is a Reformist and although the story follows Darrow more, that is a big deal giving that she tried to make laws to help other Colors including the banning of the Board of Quality Control). I love how she is a logical person, yet she sacrifices a part of herself for her family, because she is human and bound to do illogical things. I love how, despite loving her family so much, she often goes against them, because it’s the right thing to do. I love how she is underestimated and she just spits (not literally) in their faces. I just love how she is a fighter, a politician, a leader, because we rarely see females like that.

Sevro:

Sevro is a breath of fresh air. He is who he is without warning labels and apologies. He is a survivor, a loyal friend (very rare kind), a badarse. He is amazing. His existence is a defiance and I love it, although that resulted in a lonely childhood. I love him to bits tho, because he also shows how good it is to be yourself and like yourself despite everything. He is very sweet despite being a hard arse and his insults always leave me very impressed. It’s obvious that at the Institute, he just wanted to survive and get a modest job (like Fitchner - thing which Fitchner probably encouraged), but he started to see Darrow and his behavior with the others and he wanted to make friends. And when Darrow became his friend - his only real friend until then - it made him want more, dream for more. And I just love that. I love how Sevro evolved and how he protects his friends - Howlers included. The only thing I’m not a fan of is his hygene…and his pornographic collection of holoFilms.

Victra:

Victra is a warrior, an heiress and a business woman. She kicks arse, takes names and simply slays. I love that there is more to her than meets the eye (although I don’t trust NerdsTM to appreciate her like she deserves). I love how bad arse and loyal she is. I love how she enjoys life and all it entails. I love that she lets herself be vulnerable in public and it makes her courageous. I love how open she is about herself, yet she is still mysterious. I love the fact that she never lies and she loves jade jewelry and displaying her scars like jewelry and the smell of the air before the rain hits the ground.

Fitchner:

I feel like Fitch is way too underrated. He was fairy chosen to be Rage Knight - a position Lorn filled which only makes it legendary and harder to get. He beat Proctor Jupiter and Tactus’ eldest brother - which I hope is Tharsus, because Apollonius is in my graces atm. Not only that, he created the Sons of Ares, he lead them and infiltrated into the Society’s highest ranks to destroy it from the inside and build something better. It was his plan, his sacrifices, his dream. There would be no Rising without Fitchner. Not even Sevro, but hey, it’s not like the guy would say something like “The entire world should thank me for Sevro - he came from my sperm, ok, my swimmers made the little Goblin. You’re welcome!”…when we all know Sevro’s enemies would rather curse Fitchner’s balls for helping create their doom…

Getting back on track, Fitchner was the okay-est Proctor and one of the best characters.

Adrius: (no, it’ not an unpopular opinion, here we love Adrius)

I believe Adrius is the best villain hands down. There are no excuses for his actions, he is a genocidal maniac with daddy issues. He looks at people like they are objects, not human beings, he has no compassion and has no knowledge of empathy. And I love him. I give him sympathy, because he is a monster, but he was made that way. Although he displayed terrifying behavior from a young age, his fall towards evil could have been avoided if his father gave two (2) fucks about him. I love his relationship with Darrow and how they were rivals, then sort of allies, then…you’ll find out. I just love how Adrius was written. He is really great as a villain. I hate what he did to Darrow, tho. When he killed Nero I was happy for him, but no one touches Darrow, so that was his worst move ever. Like…Pixie, you just signed your death warrant, stay away from Mustang’s Bitc- Boo!

The Telemanuses:

All of them are amazing! Much love to all of them! They deserve the world! I include Niobe, Thraxa and Xana, but that’s all I’m going to say, because you need to read for yourself to believe me.

Cassius: (long stoty, because i didn’t really like him at first)

You know what? I disliked Cassius as much as Darrow did first time he saw him…too annoyingly perfect. And after what Darrow endured it felt like a disgrace to see an entitled little Pixie dance his way on marble corridors at the expense of so many Colors. As the story progressed, Cassius’s entitled arse didn’t improved and the most annoying part was him bragging about the death he claimed. I know he did it to make people talk and find out who killed Julian, but that doesn’t make him right. The 49 other people killed in the Passage were just as innocent as Julian. He made the death of the person he killed sound cheap. Even Antonia had more respect towards that. And Titus made it worse, but that gets off tracks. I understand his pain. If someone would have killed my sister in the Passage, it would have sworn revenge too. But the painful thing is that Cassius saw only Julian’s death, Julian didn’t deserve to die. But that is also true for all the other people who got murdered in the Passage. They didn’t deserve to die either, but you don’t see anyone going at Mustang or Sevro with blood oaths to murder them. The whole system is fucked up and must be changed. Killing Darrow might be a thing of honour, but honour doesn’t bring back Julian.

The fact that he lied to everyone that Darrow was killed by Adrius to claim his spot as Primus of Mars wasn’t good publicity either. And then, he got to be even more of a Pixie in Golden Son. But it was Mustang who convinced me to give him a chance. Because she was the one who revealed that Cassius is conflicted, that he regrets losing not one brother, but two. That he suffers, but tries to do his duty to his family and honour them. Bit by bit, I was open to seeing Cassius from this perspective, so I gave him lots of benefits of the doubt. Until he killed Fitchner and all I wanted was to see his head on a spike turned ugly by gore and maggots. Then Morning Star happened and I went from: fuck Cassius (and not in a nice way) to Bloodydamn finally, Pixie, you made me so proud. Then, we got Iron Gold and man, if something happens to him I’ll kill all the Gold families of the Rim and then that bitch of a ward.

I really love his character development. I can see that mine is an unpopular opinion everywhere in this fandom, given that even the author has a soft spot for Cassius (not that that stops him from making Cassius suffer even more), but yeah…that is the story of how I got late to the “We love Cassius” party. I’m being short on the good details, because I don’t want to spoil you, but I hope you understand.

Holiday and Orion:

They are amazing human beings and although they are side characters I love their contribution to the series. I love their personalities and talents and their overall no nonsense attitude.

I’ll stop here, before we go off charts. Here are some honourable mentions in no particular order: Aja au Grimmus, Ragnar Volarus, Theodora, Matteo, Mickey, Tactus au Rath Valii, Lorn au Arcos, Apollonius au Valii Rath, Alexandar au Arcos, Rhonna of Lykos, Diomedes au Raa, Trigg ti Nakamura, Volga Fjordan.

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lighthouseofthewanderess · 5 years

Text

Self-love

I don’t think I’ve met a single person who’s learnt to love themselves without learning it the hard way first. And I know that there are still many who are yet to be blessed with the wisdom to realize what self love can do. It’s almost like someone built a world for you before you were even born, confining you to ages of repetition, deciding what you can and cannot do. God forbid you start straying into the journey of finding yourself, then would follow lectures in hope of ‘getting you back on track’. While pressures of the society is something we all have to live with, doing that without loving yourself makes the whole ordeal, harder. And I refuse to have anything pre-defined for me, except my name. Well, maybe not my name either. In its entirety, my name has 29 alphabets -- Priyadarshini Balasubramanian. As a South Indian, I took the name of my dad as my last name. Till date I don’t know if it ends with a ‘m’ or and ‘n’. Does it even matter? Whenever I hear this long name, I feel heavy. I absolutely hate it. I don’t believe it matches my identity at all. My mom launched into an explanation of how she named me ‘Priyadarshini’ so that people can all me ‘Darshini’. Well, screw that. She also said it was borrowed from Indira Gandhi’s middle name -- Priyadarshini . Screw that too. I’m not a celebrity, I’m not nobel. I’m simply me, and this was way too long a name. Longer than the English alphabet. So when people in US couldn’t pronounce my name for nuts (how can I blame them) the Principal politely suggested a shorter name. “Just for the schools here” she stressed, as if it is their shortcoming. I gladly welcomed that opportunity and snipped both the names. At the end what we had was -- Priya Bala. A short, self-made name for a self-made woman. Works. So when my prefect badge had my whole ugly name crunched on it, I marched up to the principal and made a deal. No one’s taking me away from me. It also made me feel like I had something to live up to. While Priyadarshini meant personification of love, Priya just meant love. It was a lesser burden. I wasn’t going to embody all the good, personify it. I was just going to action the word out. And as a verb carried out by a human, it was okay flaw while loving. This I can live with, I told myself. Problem is, for the longest time, I considered the whole act of loving as something you do for the world and the people in this world. And life tried so hard to show me it wasn’t others you need to seek love in return from, it is from yourself. From within.

I remember in school, I had a friend called Megha. I considered her my best friend. Looking back at it, I don’t even know what led me to that conclusion. One day, we both had bunked our classes and were walking around the campus. I cherished these one-on-one conversations with people; it made me feel real important and wanted. But soon, a gang of boys (who were also her friends) came by and I took three steps back. No boys rule. She quickly came over to me afterwards and said “I’ll be right back, they’re calling me for a game.” I nodded enthusiastically. Love is patient. Love can wait. I waited. And waited. The bell rang, lunch hour was upon me, and still no sign of Megha. Here’s where there’s a fork in the road. If you love yourself even a little, you would be able to brush it off; chalk it to the other person being well, a person, and walk away. But if you all you’ve done is pull out oodles of love, stuff it into people’s heart, and expect their validation, then you’re in for trouble. Like the little me now. I went spiraling in my thoughts wondering if I was a bad friend, if I wasn’t loyal enough. Why did she even want to leave me alone in the first place. The thought killed me for a few hours and when I met her again, I was struck with agony to see she wasn’t even sorry. It wasn’t her fault. It was my inability to let things go. That I cannot expect things just because I gave some love. Love isn’t a transaction. It isn’t a process. I smiled, I hugged her, we forgot it. Inside, I told myself not to love anyone too much.

But it kept happening. And whenever it did, I pointed fingers at myself. The birthday party where I invited 3 people and only two turned up. Wasn’t I good enough? The day people made decisions without even asking me if I was okay with it. Did I not matter to them? The family gathering where I ended up singing carnatic music just because I was taking classes. Why did they force me even after I said no? I saw the pattern. I went out of my way to make others happy; I did things I regretted. I didn’t know any other way. Then there came a day when I that changed. It was only a small instance, but I learned a great deal from it. Whether it was mom, my then lover, or friends, the rule was simple -- does it work for me? It went like this.

I was at a party. Sitting there, plastering a smile on my face, having shots because it was what everyone was telling me to do. The conversation was boring. Over some hostel story that I didn’t want to know, didn’t have anything to contribute to. It looked like the only thing that kept me there was the fact that I had said yes to being there. And so, in the middle of it all, I felt like I was done. I got up to go. I put some money on the table and said they were all assholes for forcing me into their idea of fun. How stupid. But it felt good to have my opinion on my table. I knew I probably won’t see them again, and I was happy for that. I didn’t wait for them to stop me, and they didn’t either. I rode home feeling lighter, smiling to myself at the signals for doing what I wanted instead of going along with someone’s plan. I got home, made myself a nice meal and plonked with my laptop. Watched a horror movie, slept, danced around with a tea cup in the evening, and read a book basking in the sunset. The day had just turned out fabulous. And it was because I had got up and chose myself over them.

After that, I went on a detox. Don’t be wrong to think it had to do with food. I did a complete cleanse of my friend circle. I stopped meeting people who were okay if I tagged along. I sent a message out there into the universe that my time was precious. If they wanted me around, they better let me know instead of me assuming and randomly showing up. I deleted people off Facebook. I stopped responding to pointless forwards and engaging in small talk. My words were precious. If I was to spend it on you, you better know you’re important. My circle dwindled to people I can count on my fingers. And that was okay. They were all people who took me in because they valued me for me. I am flawed, I snap when hungry or just the same when I’m normal. I cross lines when drunk, say what’s on my mind. I frown when I work, I sit silent on group discussions observing people. I bring my bike whenever I come to meet you just so that I have an escape plan if things don’t go well. I always have an escape plan. I don’t contribute to conversations that involve history, politics, or celebrities. I know a very few things in life, but I’m willing to learn. And if you don’t judge me for that, then you have me. If not, then au revoir.

That said, it’s not like I wasn’t social. I talk to people who talk to me. Some amount of small talk is okay. But these are the people who know me for what I let on. I laugh a little on the inside when people say I have it all together, I’m always traveling, sweet to people, or that I love my work. You have no idea what’s beneath the surface you just managed to scratch. The real me is exclusive to just a few. And it is just these few that are allowed when I’m a bloody mess -- howling away, breaking to bits over a burger, panicking when I can’t decide what to wear. For this support system, I would cancel other plans. Throw in my essentials and come stay over. Pick up calls at 3am and listen to their stoner-talk. I love them because I can see a bit of myself in them. And because I love myself, I can allow to love them too. That’s how it works.

You love yourself first. Then you grow your circle of those who love what they see in you. Not the other way around. It has taken me all of 23 years to learn that, and I’m still not done. Here are a few things that has helped me, in bits of the Serenity Prayer.

You cannot do anything about your face -- I was body shaming myself for the longest time. I wanted to be petite so that I can fit into any and every kind of clothing. I experimented with my hairstyles just to make my face look smaller. But it is huge and round. I cannot do anything about it. I can only make sure my body stays fit. But that doesn’t mean I become a fitness freak and hope for smaller hip bones. My built is this, I shall dress for it. That’s how my boho-chic style came to be. A ‘I-don’t-care look.’ Give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change.

You can only love people so much -- It is not your job to go around fixing people. Just like you found a way to fix yourself, they too need to hear from within. No amount of positive talk or empowering compliments is going to change their mind. So don’t set out on a mission to heal the world like a savior. Love them, hold them when they need you, and inspire them. The rest is in their hands. Give me the courage to change what I can and the wisdom to know when to stop.

You are not what happens to you -- So when a project goes wrong, a person cheats on you, or your parents think you are a disappointment, double check how much of that has to do with what you’ve done. If you find a way to fix it, go ahead. If you cannot, then it’s not your fault. Don’t go looking around for sympathy when you’re the only one who can forgive yourself for your losses. Or if you can’t, just cut them from your narrative. And for god’s sake -- don’t jump to the conclusion that you’re not good enough. Like literally don’t off anything, ever. Everyone errs, to err is human. Give me the power to accept my hardships as a way to become stronger.

Self-love is an ocean that I can scrutinize from every angle. I can simply put it like this: your heart holds a lot of love. It is easy to underestimate how much love you can give others. We do it all the time, leaving a bit of our heart with so many people -- scattering it away like they’re breadcrumbs for others to find a way back to you. But whatever you do, don’t spend it all. Fortify your own before you try to be a pillar for others. You need some for yourself, you cannot depend on others’ bread trails because they don’t lead to you when you’re lost.

#nanowrimo #nano writing #nano 2018 #writing #loveforwriting #self love #self care #writedaily #wrimo #life story #life stories #support #pearls #wisdom #guide #guidebook

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