#which is also why ally was especially off the rails

[volstruckerz]

NO but you guys don’t get it. kristen was so different in freshman year for OBVIOUS reasons but also she was just more nervous and quiet and awkward and unsure but still always good-natured and kind and came through for her new friends (although still ALWAYS speaking her mind ofc) and then in sophomore year she’s on her own, trying to find herself while everything she thought she knew about life was turned on it’s head. she’s more outspoken and chaotic and WAY more wild but still inherently kind when it matters. and then in junior year she still has that chaotic vibe but with a confidence and swag, and she’s running for class president and she’s the most popular girl in school and she has a more settled energy, finding a home in doubt and uncertainty even as she fucks up and fumbles and still tries to grow, again and again. still stays kind.

#the development from awkward bible kid to popular class president. #thinking abt how much kristen has changed as ally gets more confident playing the game!! #it rocks #also fhsy was coming off the heels of acoc which was SO serious #which is also why ally was especially off the rails #but it’s also cool how that translates into kristen’s character!! #kristen applebees #fantasy high

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

One of the most appealing things about the Animorphs series to me is that we have multiple narrators all with different biases and morals which can really affect how they perceive a situation and other people. I was wondering which book or books would you like to see told by a different Animorph, and why? Personally, I'd love to see one of the original David trilogy told from Cassie's point of view.

Ooh, I'd feel that. Cassie's good with people but also sure of herself in a way that Jake and Marco aren't, so I'd especially love to see her go through the process of "uuummm, I think we fucked up by recruiting this kid."

But I want Rachel to narrate #53. Yes, Jake plays an important role because it's all about the Animorphs reluctantly allying with Tom's yeerk, but I'd much rather see Rachel's take on the endgame. Between her being absent from both mini-teams in #50 and #51, her being out-of-character in #52, and her dreaming throughout #47, it feels like she's barely present in those last few books. If she's narrating #53, then some things would change — she, not Jake, would have to be the random single Animorph that the taxxon rebellion scoops up — but a lot of things wouldn't have to change.

There's so much in that book, from Naomi being a jerk to Jake going off the rails to her impending death to her planning Tom's death, that I want her perspective on. That single chapter at the start of #54 is powerful, but it's also three pages long. I want a book of her perspective on the endgame.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #animorphs spoilers #rachel berenson #narration

[celestiall0tus]

Miraculous AU - Chapter 4 - Allies

Beginning || Previous || Next 

            Chat Noir made his way to Le Grand Paris hotel. He scanned the top balconies and saw Chloe on a lounger. He jumped over, but his foot caught on the railing. He tumbled and collided with the floor. When he looked up. Bits of his outfit glowed lime green, and peeled off him. The black ring reverted to silver as more of his outfit vanished. Once it was fully silver, Plagg fell from the ring onto the floor.

            “Next time, say ‘claws in’ so I don’t go through that,” Plagg said.

            “Sorry.” Adrien scooped up Plagg and stood but was pushed down by Chloe.

            “Stay down for a moment.”

            Chloe walked over and grabbed a blanket that was folded on a lounge chair. She threw it over him, so it hooded his face and hid his clothes. She gave him the thumbs up and gestured him to follow. They headed inside where Chloe closed all the curtains of the living area of her room. Once they were shut, he put the blanket down and took a seat on the couch.

            “So, can we get some food or something?” Plagg asked.

            “Plagg!” Adrien scolded.

            “He didn’t offend, Adrien. Now, what does yours like?”

            Adrien looked at Plagg. “Camembert, right?”

            “Correct.”

            Chloe nodded and walked over to the phone.

            “So, will you tell me more about all of this?” Adrien asked Plagg.

            “What is there to tell?”

            “I don’t know. Maybe all my powers, how this all works exactly, and about whatever that butterfly thing really was?”

            “Can’t you just learn as you go?”

            Adrien scowled.

            Plagg sighed. “Well, you know about the destruction powers and the Miraculous. You also have something called Cataclysm. It allows you to curse people with bad luck, so nothing goes their way for about maybe five minutes.”

            “Does Ladybug have a similar power?”

            “Yeah, her Lucky Charm. Which, you can’t get close to her when she uses it. It’ll cancel her charm, same if she gets close to the person that you curse.”

            “Something like when I touched the blanket she created, and it canceled out both our powers.”

            “Pretty much. Creation and destruction at its finest.”

            “I see. And why exactly did the Miraculous have that kind and after effect? Is there a limit to the powers that we can use?”

            “Kinda. You really only get five uses of all your powers combined, with some more taxing than the others. Destruction can be used five times per transformation while Cataclysm and Miraculous can only be used once. So, say you use Destruction, then Cataclysm, that’d be five uses right there. Or if you didn’t use any powers but used Miraculous, that’s all five right there too. You can technically use some powers and then the Miraculous, but you’ll turn back faster if you do.”

            “Oh. Is that all? Just five uses?”

            “Well, you will be able to use them more the more they’re used. You gotta build to it basically.”

            “Ok. And what about the butterfly?”

            “Was Ladybug’s explanation not enough?”

            “She didn’t say how exactly it worked. How and why whatever that butterfly thing was that went after that boy.”

            “Fine. In this state, the butterflies will feed on desires, the type you mortals like to repress and never let see the light of day. Because of this twisted nature, if you accept the Akuma, that butterfly thing you destroyed, it’ll turn you into a monster.”

            “Has this happened before with the butterfly?”

            “Yes. This is far from the first time we’ve had to step in with a rogue kwami. The butterfly has his fair share of moments, but typically we’ve had to step in with other certain kwamis like the rooster, spider, bat, snake, and especially him.”

            “Him, who?”

            Plagg crossed his arms and turned away from Adrien.

            “Can you at least tell me what kwami it is so I know?”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            “But-!”

            “He might be talking about the peacock,” Chloe said as she put the phone down.

            Plagg bristled. “Don’t mention that little demon.”

            “Wait, how do you know?” Adrien asked.

            Chloe put a finger to her lips. She disappeared behind wall. She reappeared and headed to the door. “I’ll be right back, but she’ll explain.”

            Chloe left and a bee kwami appeared from behind the wall. It flew over to Adrien and bowed.

            “Greetings, young Agreste. Chloe told me that we’d be entertaining you,” the bee kwami said.

            “Uh, who are you?” Adrien asked.

            “I am Pollen, the kwami of devotion. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Been some time, hasn’t it, Plagg?”

            “What are you doing here, Pollen?” Plagg asked.

            “I live here, with darling Chloe. She’s my surrogate daughter and possible holder, at least now that you and the ladybug are active.”

            “Daughter? Since when were in the market for adoption?”

            Pollen chuckled as she sat on the coffee table. “Oh, darling, I’ve always done this. Maybe if you weren’t up your own tail end all the time, you’d notice.”

            Plagg’s ears twitched. “I’m leaving.” He flew up but fell back into Adrien’s hands.

            “Maybe wait until you’ve eaten?” Adrien suggested.

            “Fine, but we wait in silence,” Plagg said.

            “Fine. It’s not like I could talk with you around anyway. Not anymore at least.”

            They waited in an uncomfortable silence until Chloe returned. She walked over and placed a cake slice for Pollen and handed Adrien a plate of camembert. Plagg inhaled the cheese and flew up.

            “Now I leave. I’ll see you at home.”

            Pollen scoffed after Plagg vanished.

            “Is he always like that?” Chloe asked.

            “Sometimes, but when the peacock is mentioned, he gets worse,” Pollen answered.

            “What’s the deal with the peacock anyway?” Adrien asked.

            “Oh, there was an incident with the last peacock holder and the ladybug holder at the time. She was left in bad shape and Plagg blames the peacock for what happened. Which, I find a little unfair as we can’t directly influence you guys, at least from the start.”

            “What do you mean?” Adrien asked.

            “Plagg had mentioned one way your power will grow, but he didn’t mention the other. That is through the bond between holder and kwami. The stronger and healthier the bond, the stronger your defenses are as well as you gaining passive abilities. These abilities are based on the concept and the animal we become the personification of. And with you being in possession of a combative kwami, it’s in your best interest to establish such a bond.”

            “Why exactly? And what do you mean by a ‘combative kwami’?”

            “See, we all fall into one of three categories: combative, defensive, and hybrid. These characteristics define some of the abilities you can gain. Combative kwamis innately give their holders martial prowess, which can grow stronger. Your claws, talons, and so on can pierce the toughest of materials, even another holder’s kwami suit. However, you are the most prone to dangers compared to a defensive kwami.”

            Adrien frowned and looked at the ring. “How would I create a bond like that then?”

            “You’ll have to figure that out on your own, Adrien.”

            “But-!”

            “Well, he’s a cat. So, just treat him like you would a cat,” Chloe suggested.

            “I’ve never interacted with animals aside from Plagg when he was a cat, so I don’t exactly know how to treat him. Besides, it feels different knowing that he’s not really a cat.”

            “Sure acts like one,” Chloe remarked.

            “More than you may think. Now, I have been wanting to ask, how was school today? I heard there was a monster attack?”

            “Yeah, some golem thing practically destroyed the school before class even started,” Chloe said.

            “Was it the butterfly?” Pollen asked.

            Adrien nodded. “Ladybug found where the… Akuma was hiding, then I destroyed it. Then we used our Miraculous power to fix the school.”

            “Well, at least you can have a second first day tomorrow, right?” Chloe said.

            “That’s if Father lets me. I’m sure if he hears about what happened, he might decide to keep me at home.”

            “Ignoring the monster, why? Why keep you cooped up like that?”

            Adrien shrugged. He grabbed one of the couch pillows and hugged it. “It’s been like this since Mother passed away. He doesn’t let me out of his sight, always knows where I am, and micromanages every part of my life. I’ve wanted to ask that question so many times, but I can never bring myself to. I’m even surprised he let me go to school.”

            Chloe scooted closer. “I know it wasn’t long, but did you enjoy it? School, I mean.”

            “Well, I enjoyed meeting people that weren’t the adults that Father has me interact with for business. Most of everyone was really nice, a bit strange, but nice.”

            Adrien sighed as he looked at the ground. It was nice seeing other people his age. They were all so unique compared to the adults he was usually around. All their faces fresh in his mind, but of all of them, Marinette’s stuck with him. Her long black hair that shone blue when the light hit it just right. The way that her blue eyes brightened when she smiled. Even her simple, yet outlandish red and black dress with a rose patterned skirt were adorable.

            Adrien’s phone rang, breaking him from his thoughts. He pulled it out and his stomach dropped when he saw it was his father calling. He gulped and answered it.

            “H-hi, Father.”

            “Adrien, where are you?”

            “With Chloe.”

            “Where?”

            Adrien shrank back. “At Le Grand Paris.”

            “Stay there. Nathalie is coming to get you.”

            “Wait, please.”

            “No. You are coming home this instant. I refuse to allow you out in this city. What if another monster were to attack? What if you get hurt?”

            Adrien’s breath caught. “Please, don’t do this. I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt. Chloe-.”

            “Enough! I won’t hear of it, Adrien. I will not lose you too.”

            “But, Father-!”

            “Give me that.” Chloe snatched the phone from Adrien. She ended the call and chucked it across the room onto her bed.

            “Chloe, he knows. He won’t let me go back to school. He’ll shut me back into that mansion again!”

            “Well, why don’t we make the most of it then?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Chloe smirked. She trotted over to her bed, dropped off her phone with his, and left a paper with them. She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

            “Let’s go.”

            “Go where?”

            “Hang out. Go shopping. What people our age do.”

            “But Father told me to stay here.”

            Chloe rolled her eyes. “That’s why we don’t stay here.”

            “But-!”

            “This is the first time in years that I’ve gotten to spend time with you. If your father is going to lock you away again, I want to enjoy as much of it as I can. And no better way of doing that than going out on the city. What do you say?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Look, we can disobey your father, have fun, do normal teen stuff, and you return to your prison with happy memories, or we can just stay here. The choice is yours.”

            Adrien blinked. He looked down at the ring. He stared at it for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Let’s… let’s go.”

            Chloe grinned and ran off, dragging Adrien along. She had them dropped off at a shopping district, then sent the chauffeur back to the hotel. They spent the afternoon hopping from store to store and evaded Nathalie. By the end of the afternoon, Chloe had a large collection of bags from their trip while Adrien had a few plus a new beret that Chloe had picked.

            “Before we head back or Nathalie finds us, I need to make a quick stop,” Chloe said. She led Adrien to a little bakery. They stepped inside as Tom greeted them.

            “Welcome! What can I get for you today?”

            “I’d like to see Marinette. I want to check on a commission piece.”

            “Sure. One second.” Tom disappeared into the back.

            “Wait, Marinette is here?” Adrien asked.

            “Hmm? Oh, right. This is her parent’s bakery. They live in the space above.”

            “That seems a little strange.”

            “Maybe, but it’s not that strange.”

            “If you say so. Hey, what’s the commission piece anyway?”

            Chloe was about to answer when Marinette burst into the room, her sketchbook clutched in her arms. Marinette approached Chloe, not noticing Adrien.

            “I’m glad you came. I have the design.”

            “Design?” Adrien asked.

            Marinette turned and held her book tighter. “Oh, uh, Adrien. When did you get here?”

            “We were spending the day shopping. This is our last stop before he returns home. He never had a chance to try the pastries I ordered earlier, so we made a quick stop. I figured while I was here, I could see how the dress was coming along.”

            “Are you a fashion designer, Marinette?” Adrien asked.

            Marinette chuckled nervously as she thumbed the corners of the pages. “Oh, no. Not really. I just doodle.”

            “Come now, let’s see it,” Chloe said.

            Marinette sighed and flipped through the book. She opened it up to a page with the commission design. It was a simple halter dress that hugged the body until it flared at the knees slightly. Chloe took the book and examined it closer.

            “Kinda reminds me of what your father designs now,” Chloe remarked.

            “Is that bad?” Adrien asked.

            “It means he’s boring. Now, I saw something in here before,” Chloe said.

            “Chloe, wait,” Marinette started.

            Chloe ignored Marinette and rifled through the pages. Adrien saw the crazy, colorful designs that ranged from runway fashion to casual streetwear. It reminded him of other designers and what his dad used to make before his mother’s passing. They were all unusual, but oddly beautiful designs. Chloe stopped on a design of a strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline. Like the first design, it hugged the body up to the knees where it flared out into a larger skirt like a mermaid dress. The dress had fire like designs that broke it into four segments, colored like a sunset with yellow, orange, red, and purple. The gloves ended with the same fire design and were gradient, starting with red and transitioning to purple.

            “This. I’d like something more like this.”

            “Are you sure? I thought you wanted something like what Gabriel Agreste designs.”

            “Well, I changed my mind. Is that ok?”

            “I guess.”

            “Good. Now, let’s get some snacks before we leave,” Chloe said to Adrien.

            Adrien watched Chloe approach a display but hung back with Marinette.

            “Your designs are lovely.”

            “You think so?”

            “Yeah. They reminded me of high fashion designers, and what Father used to make when he was getting into the industry.”

            Marinette’s eyes lit up. “Really? You really think so?”

            Adrien nodded.

            Marinette giggled, twirling around as she hugged her book. She went on about her dreams of becoming a famous designer. Adrien smiled as he watched and listened, loving the sparkle in her eyes, her smile as she gushed about her passion, and the joy in her voice.

            “Adrien!” Nathalie yelled.

            Adrien flinched. He turned to see Nathalie in the entrance.

            “Uh, hi, Nathalie.”

            “Adrien, this game is over. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you are coming with me right now.”

            “Wait! Please.”

            “No, you’ve had more than enough time and your father is eagerly waiting for your return.”

            “Before we go, can I maybe get a picture with my friends before I go back… forever? Please?”

            Nathalie paused. She looked at Chloe, then at Marinette. “Very well. One picture, then we leave. Do you have your phone, young lady?” she asked Marinette.

            Marinette nodded and handed Nathalie her phone. She placed her book on a display, then stood next to Adrien. Chloe stepped up to Adrien’s other side and posed. Adrien followed Chloe’s example while Marinette sheepishly stood there. Nathalie took a few pictures, then handed Marinette’s phone back.

            “Let’s go, Adrien.”

            “Yes, Nathalie.”

            “Wait,” Marinette said.

            Adrien turned as Marinette approached, handing him a box and a piece of paper. “What is this?”

            “You can’t forget your order, and so we can stay in touch.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Hurry now, Adrien,” Nathalie said.

            Adrien looked at Nathalie, then at Marinette. “Good-bye.”

            Adrien headed out and to the car parked outside. Once in the car, Nathalie handed him his phone, then headed towards home. During the ride, Adrien added Marinette’s number into his contacts, messaged her so she got his number, then looked out the window.

            “Nathalie, I’m sorry for disobeying and going off with Chloe.”

            “You should save that apology for your father. He’s the one you disobeyed.”

            “But he wasn’t the one chasing us down.”

            Nathalie chuckled dryly. “No, no he wasn’t. What did possess you to go against him finally?”

            “I don’t want to stay in that house all my life. I don’t want my life perfectly planned for me down to the letter. I want real friends and connections that aren’t the cut and dry business associates Father has me socialize with. I just want to live my life.”

            “I’m sorry, but this is what your father wants. He knows what is best for you.”

            “Do you really believe that?”

            “No, but my opinion will never carry any weight.”

            “But-!”

            Nathalie parked the car and turned towards Adrien. “I am not your mother and I’m especially not your father. I am just his PA. Nothing more.”

            Adrien frowned and looked away. Nathalie wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either.

            “Now, go on. Your father is waiting, probably in his office. I’ll take care of your bags.”

            Adrien nodded and headed inside. Once he closed the door, he heard Gabriel clear his throat. He looked up and saw Gabriel standing at the top of the stairs.

            “Father, I can explain.”

            “Explain the blatant disregard for your safety? Your thoughtlessness as you galivant around this dangerous city, actively avoiding Nathalie?”

            “Father, I-.”

            “It was that Bourgeois girl, isn’t it? I should have known better than to let you near her. I had hoped better of her, but it seems she’s just like her mother, always causing trouble.”

            “No! That’s not-!”

            “There’s no need to defend her, Adrien. It’s clear you shouldn’t be around such negative influences. In fact, I’ve decided to resume your homeschooling. It’s clear that school is too dangerous with random monsters attacking on top of the negative influences of those teenagers.”

            Fear gripped Adrien’s heart and his stomach plummeted. Bile rose in his throat, but he choked it back.

            “Please, I want to go to school. I want to make friends.”

            “Absolutely not. I tried, but it’s clear that this world is too dangerous.”

            “But it’s not.”

            “You could have been killed today!”

            “But I wasn’t!”

            Gabriel scowled and his nostrils flared. “Are you truly so careless? You’d want to risk your very life just to be out there? The very world that took your mother from us?”

            With each word, Gabriel took a step down, until he was face-to-face with Adrien, who shrank back.

            “I just wanted-.”

            “I don’t care what you wanted. You are my son, and you will not leave this house without me or my consent. Do you understand?”

            Adrien met Gabriel’s eyes briefly, then dropped his gaze. He closed his eyes. He nodded as tears stung his eyes.

            “Good. Now, go to your room. You will reflect on your behaviors before dinner. After dinner, straight to bed. Go.”

            Adrien headed to his room. Once inside, he leaned against a wall and slid down to the floor. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his knees. Tears fell from his eyes once he stopped holding it back. In one day, he had his dreams and more, then lost them all again.

            “Are you okay?” Plagg asked.

            Adrien shook his head.

            “What happened?”

            “I went against Father’s orders and went out on a shopping trip.”

            “What’s the big deal?”

            “He’s angry that I went against him and ventured into a ‘dangerous’ world. Now I’m trapped in this house again. I won’t be going to school, and I won’t get to make any friends. I lost it all.”

            “Well, not exactly.”

            “Huh?”

            “Come with me.”

            Plagg flew over to the window. Adrien heaved himself to his feet and joined Plagg.

            “The sun is going down. Know what that means?”

            “That it’s almost night.”

            “Exactly! And when the moon is out, that’s when the cat comes out to play.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            Plagg sighed loudly. “We sneak out. Go and enjoy the night.”

            “What? How? Why? No.”

            “You want to be free, right? Explore the world?”

            “Yes.”

            “You don’t want to be trapped here, right?”

            “Of course not.”

            “Then it’s settled! Once night has arrived, out the window, and we’ll be free.”

            “What if I’m caught? I’ll be in even more trouble.”

            “Not if you’re Chat Noir.”

            Adrien looked at the ring. “Are you sure?”

            “Of course.”

            “Fine. After dinner, we’ll head out, ok?”

            “Great! Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to take a little nap.” Plagg vanished into one of the nightstands.

            Adrien shook his head and sat on his bed. He pulled out his phone to see two messages, a response from Marinette and a message from Chloe. They both sent him the photo they all took together. Marinette said:

            Chloe said she’d send this to you, but in case she forgets. It was great meeting you. I hope you stay in touch.

            Adrien smiled and blushed. He responded to Marinette, reassuring her that he’d stay in contact with her. After the message sent, he looked at Chloe’s message that said:

            Got Marinette to send me the photo of all of us. Hope you had fun, Adrikins. And remember, I’m here for you.

            Adrien grinned, thanking Chloe. He hadn’t lost everything yet.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #au #alternate universe #miraculous au #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #mlb fanfic #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #creative writing #writing #adrien #miraculous ladybug adrien #miraculous adrien #adrien agreste #miraculous chloe bourgeois #mlb chloe #miraculous chloe #chloe bourgeois #pollen #plagg kwami #miraculous plagg #mlb au #mlb fandom

[eretzyisrael]

by David Israel

The Wall Street Journal’s editorial board on Thursday night published a scathing attack on President Biden’s Israel police, especially the way he’s been mistreating PM Benjamin Netanyahu’s government.

To remind you, last Tuesday, NY Times pundit Tom Friedman wrote (White House Urging Israelis to Play Nice, Tom Friedman Says US to Reassess Relationship with Israel): “US diplomats … find it hard to believe that Bibi would allow himself to be led around by the nose by people like Ben-Gvir, would be ready to risk Israel’s relations with America and with global investors, and WOULD BE READY TO RISK A CIVIL WAR IN ISRAEL (sic.) just to stay in power with a group of ciphers and ultranationalists.”

In its response to that and similar brazen attacks fueled by the administration, the WSJ editorial board (What Does Biden Have Against Israel? – The President treats the governing coalition in Jerusalem worse than he does Iran) asked: “Why does President Biden go out of his way to snub, criticize and give marching orders to the government of Israel? At least rhetorically, the President and his Administration treat Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his governing coalition worse than they do the ruling mullahs in Iran.”

The WSJ is critical of Biden’s repeated declaration that he will not invite the Israeli PM to the White House, while US Ambassador to Jerusalem Tom Nides has been warning that Israel is “going off the rails,” and both men know that their statements provide shameless support to Netanyahu’s enemies.

“When Mr. Netanyahu was most vulnerable, in late March, Mr. Biden needlessly decreed that Israel ‘cannot continue down this road’ on judicial reform,” the WSJ editorial continued, noting that “the Prime Minister had already changed course and agreed to moderate the reforms—a domestic Israeli affair in which the US President has no business. Mr. Nides publicly instructed Mr. Netanyahu, as if with his chauffeur, to ‘pump the brakes.’”

“This is no way to treat a democratic ally,” argues the editorial, and suggested “the President’s Israel policy has been counterproductive. US aid to anti-Israel international bodies has resumed, and all of the West Bank and East Jerusalem is treated as ‘occupied territory.’ This is now a liberal article of faith, but how does it advance peace to indulge Palestinians in the belief that Jews are interlopers in Judea and at the Western Wall?”

The WSJ says Biden is undermining Israel’s democratically elected government while “Hamas and other Iranian proxies are gaining power in the West Bank, activating another front against Israel.”

The paper warns: “The new wave of terrorism against Jewish civilians will set back the Palestinian cause but advance Iran’s.”

The editorial also lists Biden’s other failures in the Middle East, including abandoning the Abraham Accords, one of his predecessor’s most brilliant achievements. Biden also failed to keep Saudi Arabia in the Western camp, driving it instead to deepen its relations with China. And the administration’s promises about a better nuclear deal with Iran are all gone.

Perhaps most disappointing has been the failure to extend the Trump-brokered Abraham Accords. The Saudis are the prize, but Mr. Biden’s open hostility drove them to hedge their bets by signing a Chinese-brokered deal with Iran instead. Normalization with Israel may have to wait for a U.S. President interested in rallying a coalition to contain Tehran.

“While Tehran escalates its proxy wars and whittles down US nuclear demands, Mr. Biden carries out diplomatic offensives against Saudi Arabia and Israel,” says the WSJ editorial.

#wall street journal #israel #joe biden #tom nides

[unlockthestars]

I started to write out some of my thoughts about Adam, but it turned into more of an analysis of…..basically all of his appearances in the show, and while I could do that, if there's interest, this was supposed to be more my thoughts on the character, as well as how I write him.

It's long, so I'm putting it under a cut.

I definitely focus more on the aspects of his character that were originally introduced: how he's a foil for Blake, how his ideology in the White Fang opposes her own; how as an abused member of a mistreated minority, he's standing up and taking on their oppressors, in the best way he knows how.

I downplay any relationship he had with Blake, because I don't think it was any sort of real relationship. When she first starts to talk about him, she refers to him as a mentor, and it's only several volumes later, in Volume 3, where he is seemingly cast in the light of obsessive ex-boyfriend.

When Blake first left, he could initially have had someone go after her, and he chose not to. A lot of the "he was totally obsessed with Blake" came in a lot later and diverges from what we were initially presented.

I do still kind of include that and play with the idea that it wasn't so much Blake, but what she stood for, what she had and represented. Because even though she's a faunus, she hasn't had to face much hardship outside of that fact. And part of him resents that, part of him is jealous of it and wants what she had, and part of him just wants so badly for her to understand just how he and other faunus (but especially him) have suffered that that's part of why he targets her.

Because she represents a lot of things that he could never obtain. She was raised in a home with two loving parents, who provided for her while he was a child slave who was branded as property. And not somewhere he could easily hide; his face was branded, which ruined even the possibility of any sort of normal life for Adam.

Am I discounting the fact that he was emotionally manipulative? Absolutely not. Do I think that he learned that was one of the few ways he could have any sort of control over his own life? Yes, I do.

I will never downplay Blake getting away from him or discount the trauma that she suffered at his hands. Having been in an emotionally abusive relationship, I understand just how hard it can be to get away from your abuser.

And I'm not going to glorify that at all, but I think it's a disservice to completely ignore the massive amount of trauma that Adam also faced. It does not excuse his actions, but it helps to explain where he was coming from, at the very least.

I think that he started out genuinely wanting to help the faunus. He had suffered, and he wanted a better world for his people. When Cinder comes by the first time to try to ally with the White Fang, he tells her no, that he's not going to risk his men for a human cause. It's only after Cinder comes back, after she takes out a bunch of the White Fang members that Adam agrees to work with her, and I do think that came from a place of "At this point, there's not much other choice right now if I want to save my people."

Plus, if Salem is going to create a new world order, like it was pitched to him, then that means that the faunus can become the majority, that they no longer have to be oppressed, so he just has to go along with this plan for now.

Then things go off the rails, there's a lot of things that happens, and eventually, Adam fights Blake and Yang in Volume 6, which results in his demise.

I do have a survival verse for him, where he survives being stabbed and has to pick up and figure out where to go from there. I haven't used it yet, but when I do….., I want to explore what it's like to have to come back from that ledge. To have devolved from his ideals so much that he was willing to kill himself and many other faunus just to get back at one person.

IS there a way back from that? CAN he find his way back to the ideals he once had? Or will rage and darkness consume him?

I know there's a lot that I'm kind of glossing over, but I thought about a lot of different things when I decided to write Adam. Like I said earlier, I don't want to diminish or cheapen what Blake went through, but exploring Adam as more of a flawed person, who does have some good in them, who has absolutely lost his way into darkness, but might one day (with a WHOLE lot of work and probably more trauma along the way, and having to do something to help heal any of the hurt he caused) find his way, whatever that might end up being….is a lot more interesting to me than a character who simply can't be redeemed at all, ever.

#★ general || meta ★ Mal thinks too much about things #long post #long post tw #[I feel like I should add some other tags but] #[if something needs to be tagged lemme know]

[kwaggysshardmindemporium]

Feel like rambling about the DnD character I just made for a campaign my friend is tossing together.

So, I started with a simple goal. I wanna be a heal-centric Cleric. Be the real classic image of what a Cleric does in people's minds, even if that doesn't really line up with how it plays anymore.

What species? I always try to play something I haven't played, so I settle on Harengon. (Rabbit-man!) Even though this technically doesn't exist in Wildemount, which is the setting we're using, my DM and I agree that a fun animal man is not particularly weird and just because it's not in the sourcebook doesn't mean it can't be around.

So I'm an MtG guy, and realize this character can use a fun new card as the portrait.

And since the other players don't do MtG or aren't current on releases, I steal the name too.

So now we have Preston, rabbit-man Cleric of... something?

Go with Peace Cleric for subclass. Just good vibes time with the fun bunny.

Background time! Feylost seems fun and my DM is on board. Another player also wants to do that exact background, which actually gels nicely because we're supposed to already have some connections as a party.

I've put very little thought into backstory outside of broad strokes, and Wildemount has AMAZING backstory generation roll tables. Seriously these are great I love them, and DM wants us to at least roll one rival and ally, but we can roll per book's instructions on everything we'd like in addition.

Start with where I'm from: oh, a completely different part of the continent than where the game is. Not super weird especially for thos background. That's fine.

Family? 2 parents (also shoutout to the book for having 3+ parents as an option on that table explicitly saying they might be poly, non-monogamous, or just divorced and remarried and these are all valid and normal, feel very seen by that), 5 siblings. Jokes about rabbit birth rates flew around the Discord immediately.

1 significant family relation. I have a family member who caused something horrible to happen to me and they feel indebted to me about it. Gain an ally. Okay, I DM my DM saying I figure that's how little Preston ended up in the Fae. Roll for stat block this person uses... Berserker? Weird. Quirky.

Alright, time to roll for the other ally since DM said 1+ however many your relationship rolls generate for both allies and rivals. I apparently gave a significant sum of money to a beggar, who used that to turn their life around. Awww, that's sweet. Really on brand for the vibe I want here.

Okay, roll for what stat block THEY use... assassin? Okay so this beggar I guess used the gift as seed money to pursue their dreams of contract killing! Sure! Fine! We're definitely not going off the fucking rails here! Nope!

Qlso, this stat block says to roll on the "fateful moments" table because that's a rather dramatic person to interact with. So I roll on that and...

A demon lord visited me in a dream and spooked me real bad? And I woke up knowing how to ritual cast Find Familiar, but MUST summon a Quasit. (I named it Gullet!) I'm... I'm still a Cleric, right? Oh, ALSO ROLL ON THE INDEFINITE MADNESS TABLE.

So roll that. "I've discovered I really enjoy killing people." Wait, no, I misread that. Oh thank god. "I can't take anything seriously. The more serious it should be, the funnier it is." Feeling a little hurt that my personality is apparently listed as a type of madness in the DnD DMG, but I mean like I grudgingly admit this probably isn't a good way to be so fair.

So apparently my PEACE CLERIC helped their new friend start their dream of an assassination business, and this caught the attention of a DEMON LORD who wanted to give me a little buddy to chill with.

Still haven't rolled on the rival table at this point.

So do that, my rival is an ex-lover whose heart I broke. So I guess the rabbit fucks now. Stat block? Guard. So I was dating a cop or something, apparently. Feels like that's probably WHY my Chaotic Good ass dumped them. I remark that this seems REALLY boring compared to the rest, my DM says I can reroll it but honestly it's too funny to me.

So now it's time for some ancillary silliness. Favorite food based on region you're from? Dumplings apparently. Whimsical!

Mysterious secret? I've had dreams where townsfolk see me, scream "Scourger!" and then burst into flames. Seems probably like that's an after-effect of my DEMON LORD PAL, just logically. But also Preston maybe look into some dreamless sleep remedies for these nightmares, bud.

Prophecy? "I will meet my birth parents, and something about this will drastically change how I see the world." Seems appropriate for a child stolen by the Fae, actually.

So that's Preston. My new DnD character who is having a completely normal time and is just fine thanks for asking.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #dungeonsanddragons #d&d #dnd5e #d&d5e #this is fine #i am very excited to play this character this is gonna be gonzo

[ramshackledtrickster]

What headcannons do you have about your version of Moreau?

Oo fun prompt!! Thank you for the ask!!

(Sorry for the lack of drawings in this post but I’ll be doing some relating to the headcanons soon!)

Human Moreau is music-inclined! He isn’t a musician or anything (though he had a fanciful dream about being in an old fashioned musical), but music helps him progress through day to day life. He hums to himself, listens to it during his studies and non-physician work, repeats the same few songs again and again to help establish a routine he feels comfortable in, and can probably memorize every word from the few classic musical movies he really likes

Moreau after his mutation still is warmed up to music as ‘vestigial’ salvatore traits if that makes sense- he doesn’t know why he likes it, but he does. He hums to himself during experiments and enjoys his old musical movies.

He likes opera, mellow jazz songs, and old crooner-songs that make him lovesick

Moreau as a human loved eating fish. His relationship with that grew more… difficult with his mutations

That doesn’t stop him from catching and eating fish straight out of the river post-mutation though. 7 times out of 10 it makes him incredibly sad or throw up, but he has to eat something other than cheese and the reservoir’ s the next best place to look (plus fish eat other fish all the time so)

He barely remembers much of his past life, but he does have a lot of deja vu moments as well as certain hobbies quirks or traits that remain

He has rare moments of dry wit as a result, which surprises the other lords

Moreau has translucent eyelids

Moreau’s mother died early on in his life, and they had a really good relationship. He’s not good with dealing with his grief, which Mother Miranda found to be… interesting information. Also that’s why he’s got the jellyfish tattoo.

Moreau’s mutations give him sensitive skin. Easily dries out, can sense chemical changes in the water, and he even gets more oxygen through his skin. Amphibian time.

Moreau likes hard candy. He’s always liked hard candy, but it’s especially nice with his mutations since he can just suck on it without damaging or getting it stuck in his teeth

Moreau has met the Duke before his mutation

His father was a full on fisherman, and that turned him onto marine biology at a young age (and in turn, his fish-biology books he stocked up on served good use for when Moreau was figuring out his anatomy through his changes)

He actually liked teaching as a human! Biology lectures were awesome and he always somehow got a cool sample to show off

While Moreau was an incredibly skilled doctor, his mutations had caused him to forget a lot of his methods and techniques, which made him… not a really good doctor. He still knows the basics, but he carries much less tact and grace with his procedures

Karl is upset and disappointed with him the most because he heard and knew how Moreau used to have a spine and used to be against Miranda before he was manipulated and then experimented on by her. The one possible ally he could have gained, and Miranda had rendered him a sobbing, emotionally scarred fish of a man, desperate for her approval. Karl sympathizes and feels bad, but he can’t express that healthily so he takes it out by insulting Moreau instead, just hoping for him to actually fight back or call him out to see if that spark is there still

Moreau has a bad aim. He has a gun, but he’s garbage with it

If Moreau had a favorite Adam Sandler movie, it would be Bedtime Stories. I won’t elaborate.

Moreau doesn’t need to eat much since his cadou knows how to conserve energy and mass well, all concentrated to his back lumps

He can’t properly sleep with a blanket over him since he has to sleep on his belly to reduce strain or pain to his back, so he has a thing set up where there’s a shower-curtain style railing with a blanket attached to a shelf above his bed, which he can pull around him in order to block out chill and light as best as he could

Not really a headcanon but I love the idea of what if the developers based him/his mutated design off a sheepshead fish or a Pacu fish (freshwater fish notorious for having stupid human teeth)

Moreau is a dog person. Partially based off his whole lycan-thing and guard-varcolac in game, but also his actor Jesse Pimentel’s love for dogs. Fun !

I hope you liked these!! I know a lot of them must sound like rehashes of other headcanons but aghdhgfgff I tried

Edit: I lied I do have a tacked on doodle for this 😎

Moreau kindly threatens Ethan to stop asking ‘what the dog doin’

#salvatore moreau #lord moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #headcanons #I’m drawing ideas for 2 or 3 of these #and maybe writing a fic for 1 #but I’m not used to writing so #but I don’t wanna make a comic either #I do be stuck #resident evil 8 fanart #my art

[dannyphantom-justiceleauge]

Imagine if the ghost zone has child protective services and it gets out that the halfa that the entire zone with a very limited selection of exceptions is constantly trying to gang up on and beat is in fact, a baby ghost. Like... I love the idea of Danny eventually becoming allies or creating a truce with most of his enemies but what if the reason they all go so hard on him is because either A) They are trying to train him Sonic ebaby ghost in the human world is a bad idea or B) don't even realize he is a baby

i’m remembering that comic of danny making a cracking noise and ember panicking because “YOU STILL HAVE BONES”

i also love the idea of a good chunk of them not realizing he’s a baby and feeling shock and horror latter when they realize. especially when they also make the connection that this infant beat pariah dark! like sure that makes them feel better about him beating them but still.

the exception being also young ghosts. which is interestingly a lot of the ones he sees regularly. i’d say boxy, lunch lady, sydney, ember, technus, and probably skulker all died within the last 70 years based on clothing. the ghosts only get older the deeper into the zone you go. babies fighting babies is normal

deseree has no excuse. actually a good chunk of them also know he’s human so they should have an idea of how young he is.

but even then i suspect they ecpected him to have his ghost powers for at least more than a year. like what do you mean your core hadn’t even settled when we fought the first time!? what do you mean i fought you when you were less then a month old!? you haven’t even had your first deathday party!? wth!?

danny: what’s a death day party

kitty, in tears: you’re an infant!

as for the ghost child protective service, i feel like this is a good time to invent an ancient. the ancient of motherhood, a concept as old a ghosts. the mother ghost just goes around collecting baby ghosts and teaching them the way of the zone until they know everything they need to. smiting anyone who hurts the babies with mother rage.

she hadn’t been over danny’s area of the zone for a while so she is shocked at how poorly cared for all these young ghosts are. “clockwork, why haven’t you been looking after them!?”

clockwork, who did adopt danny but who also tends to treat him and the timelines with a hands off style of parenting: “i did”

he’ll step in when the time line gets too bad. i also feel he has a warped sense of what’s appropriate for an age group. i can’t say how off the rails it is, because he’s constantly changing ages and looking in on time lines all over the place and yeah he’s very detail oriented about exactly how old a person is. but when your going from talking to a 20 year old to a fourteen year old, you’re not actually digging that deep into the age difference. your just getting a job done.

anyway. mama ghost is going to kidnap danny for a while and it’s gonna be tricky because she great, but he is fighting to return home. and his actual parents are probably freaking out over their missing son. it could be a whole episode/fic. - Hestia

#Danny Phantom #dpjl #the ancients

[swanqueensalad]

ignore this if it’s too much, but since you’re in a sad regina meta mood, what are your thoughts on the time she fell off her castle balcony?

ooooh anon you do know how to keep my sad regina meta mood alive! thanks for the ask, i am always too willing to share my sad regina thoughts.

in fact, this is most likely going to be very long and rambly and off topic because i have Too Many sad regina thoughts

(obviously, this post will contain discussion of suicide/suicidal ideation and all of the other stuff that goes with regina's trauma so if any of that will trigger you please don't read!)

so first of all, i think the context is super important - i know obviously the evil queen was regina at her absolute worst and lowest point, but i do think young regina pre-evil queen was actually the darkest and hardest part of her life, and it's one the ouat writers seemed to consistently hint at but almost be afraid to really delve into too much? but i for one find it incredibly interesting.

(just saying, the ouat writers were cowards. but also i do understand that a fairytale show on abc couldn't really go too dark.)

you have this very young girl - we know she got married at 18 and very little seems to have actually changed for her at this point (she is still not really seen as a Queen, she's even wearing the same dress she wore before her wedding) so i'd put her at 19/20 at the very OLDEST in this specific episode - who has no agency and no allies, apart from the weak-willed father that enabled all her abuse and rumplestiltskin, the literal dark one, who is grooming and manipulating her into becoming so mentally fucked up she will cast his curse for him.

she has nobody. and she is still pretty traumatised from all her childhood abuse and her grief and trauma over literally watching her mother murder the love of her life - none of which she has ever had the space or support to process.

and now she is literally trapped in this big empty castle that doesn't belong to her, married to a man visibly the same age as her father who is cold towards her at Best, forced to 'mother' a girl maybe 8 years younger than her (who is intrinsically tied up in all said suffering and trauma).

all she has is the literal dark one who is grooming her for his own gain. all she has is this magic, which gives her a sense of control and power she has literally never had before in her life, but also still makes her terrified that she'll lose control/end up like her mother.

regina is stuck in this state for a long, long time. all she ever wanted was to be free and loved, and she has become stuck in the opposite of those in every way. she is miserable and alone, trapped in a seemingly never ending cycle of suffering.

(side note: anyone who tries to tell me leopold didn't lay a hand on her is kidding themselves. old men don't marry pretty eighteen year old girls for their conversation. especially not when they are visibly distressed by the proposal. if he wanted a 'mother' for snow, well, snow's more age-appropriate maid seemed to be doing a good job at that anyway, and even if it had to be regina, he could have just brought her to court as a lady in waiting or something - he did not have to marry her. he chose to. no apologies for shitty men on My blog thank u v much)

so anyway

poor lost regina at this point is so torn - she wants to not hurt people (except maybe snow) and when rumple taunts her about the darkness not stopping until it's finished devouring her, she is visibly upset and panicked, wanting to run away. but of course, she has nowhere to go and nobody to help her. she both wants and dreads seeing rumple's plans for her through.

so i think, honestly, it's not too much of a stretch to say she had probably already had some harmful thoughts about herself. about an escape from all of it.

and that conversation with rumple really rattles her - he knew exactly how to get under her skin and make her need him even more - and the way she storms right onto her balcony afterwards shows just how emotional she really is.

when she starts hitting the railings, i don't think she was actively intending to jump/fall, she's just momentarily lost in all that pain and rage.

however. in that moment, i don't think she cared much either way. the railing started coming loose, and she kept hitting it. she didn't make any move to step back. so while i don't think she was actively trying to hurt herself, i think she didn't care much if it happened anyway.

and then only when tink saves her does regina realise what she did and how careless she was about it, which then freaks her out.

(and is then why she's so insistent the rest of the episode that she fell - and also why perceptive tink is having none of it - 'right. you... fell.')

#anyway sorry this is depressing lol but it's literally in the ask #and thanks anon #u know i love to get in my sad regina feelings #regina mills meta #regina mills #young regina

[aminiatureworld]

Etched Words

Characters: Xiao x gn!reader

Word Count: 2,920

Warnings: None

Premise: He'd long given up the idea. No one should be stuck with him, and fate would never be so kind to do so, no so cruel to punish someone in such a way. And yet you'd appeared, and now he didn't know what to do.

In which the reader’s familiarity is written on Xiao’s sleeve.

Author’s Note: Originally wasn’t going to write this tonight since I was afraid of how long this was going to be but oops. I love soulmate AUs, they’re probably the fic that I make up in my head the most, there’s just so much potential for it.

Xiao I’m sorry I’ve neglected a oneshot for you for so long, hope you forgive me and hope everyone who reads this enjoys!

Xiao would never admit the real reason that he was determined to wear a sleeve around one of his arms. Part of it was tradition, he’d worn it since Rex Lapis had first commanded him to fight, and even if those days of war were long forgotten to most the memories still burned bright to him. He couldn’t bring himself to completely lose that legacy, even in terms of what he wore. To those who knew him that was assumed to be the only reason; but every once in a while, when he was perhaps feeling weak enough, Xiao would lift up his sleeve to read the words snaking across his forearm.

What a lovely little bird, don’t you think? Those words haunted him, tearing apart his thoughts for certain lengths of time, filling his head with a sense of resentment and melancholy.

The last thing Xiao wanted was a soulmate. Soulmates were something destined for humans, those who could live life ducking most of its horrors, those who could feel passionately and indulge in the feeling of love without sorrow or guilt. Most important of all humans would never have to experience the feeling of losing one’s soulmate forever, and living on for millennia afterword with only memory and regret to keep them company. It was a curse to give an immortal being a soulmate, especially one such as Xiao, who battled every day with the chains of his past, with the acts he’d committed and the darkness he’d almost fallen into. No one, mortal or immortal, deserved a soulmate such as he, and Xiao for his part thought he didn’t deserve such a curse. Let him deal with his affairs alone, he didn’t want a punishment like this.

Besides, Xiao had long ago come to the conclusion that he was never to meet his soulmate. So long had it been since those words had been etched onto his skin that he was sure they must’ve been the mutterings of someone who’d long passed him by, or someone who’d never managed to say those words at all. After all, being destined to fall in love with someone wasn’t a guarantee that one would live that long, and fate could be so easily twisted and bent. Yes, his soulmate must be long dead. Perhaps they’d been a worshipper of long ago, or perhaps they’d been nothing at all. Perhaps they’d died in one of the wars in which the yaksha had participated in and perhaps they’d lived to a ripe old age, never once uttering that phrase which haunted him. Either way they were dead and gone, and Xiao didn’t want the reminder of that. He certainly didn’t want others to know, to look down upon him with pity.

So he kept it hidden, and though the words sometimes haunted him at least he had the certainty that they would never be spoken in his presence. Even if a small part of him doubted, and hoped for a miracle.

------

There was a new guest and the Wangshu Inn, and one that was most likely going to be staying for a while. Or so Xiao heard that morning as Verr Goldet checked on the breakfast and made the rounds. He liked Goldet, respected her for her ethic and her wry sense of humor, even if he loathed it being turned upon himself. She was intensely practical in nature, and always had a sense of what was important and what was ultimately not. So the mention of a new and mysterious guest stuck with him the whole day, and though he spent most of his time away from the Inn, he couldn’t help but turn Goldet’s words over in his mind, wondering if they would truly turn out as important as she made them seem.

It had been a busy day for Xiao, as Liyue was still reeling from its attempted destruction and negotiations between the adepti and the Qixing were long and arduous. The meal afterwards was even more so and if it weren’t for the traveler Xiao most likely wouldn’t’ve attended in the first place. By the time he made his way back to his usual spot on the balcony of the Inn he was tired and irritable, so much so that he only noticed he wasn’t invisible when you spoke after him, and after that he was too far gone to really register that fact.

“What a lovely little bird, don’t you think?” You were leaning on the railing, staring up at a nightingale, who was chirping away. “They’re so cute aren’t they, and they have such a classical sort of call. It’s really so peaceful.” You sighed for a moment, a sigh of contentment, and once more focused your gaze back to Xiao, smiling a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry the familiarity, I don’t believe I’ve met you yet.”

It was more of a question than a statement, but at that point Xiao could barely process what you’d just said, and the question itself was lost in the swirl of emotions he felt. Disbelief and shock were the primary emotions, for who could imagine you were real and not a figment of his imagination, but there were other emotions too; longing, frustration, fear, guilt. They all mingled together, reminding him of why he’d both longed for a moment like this and wished for it never to come. And now it was here, here and all too much. Letting out a gasp of breath that meant nothing at all Xiao vanished into the night, cheeks burning with shame as a part of him cried out that he’d just made the greatest mistake of his life.

At first Xiao had planned to avoid the Inn completely, to wait until he knew you were gone and then try to get back the semblance of normalcy that had been completely destroyed. He quickly realized however that it would be impossible to do so. The Inn had become a sort of refuge for Xiao, a familiar place where he could listen to the soft sounds of humanity in the evening and of the wilderness at night, where he didn’t have to worry about sudden changes in weather or running into treasure hoarders or monsters. Besides he’d underestimated the power of meeting one’s soulmate. And by the next morning Xiao was sure that he was going to finally drive himself to insanity if he didn’t go back and see you.

Not that you were there when he returned, for the sun was up and you’d already packed your things, going off to do whatever you did in the daytime. The hours stretched on and on for Xiao, but he attempted to busy himself by walking along the familiar valleys of Jueyun Karst, the familiar atmosphere grounding him as best it could while his mind spun this way and that.

You were real. You were alive and you had spoken to him and you were real. If the feeling of wanting to know you had suddenly appeared then so too had the feeling of overwhelming loneliness, a sudden realization of how dreary, how heavy all the years of his life had been. Xiao had acquaintances, allies, even friends, but those bonds had faded long ago, made weak by death or war or even the long peace that existed now. Even if he was grateful for the peace, he knew that it had made him lonely; all the adepti stayed within their domains and Rex Lapis had disappeared into the city, a place Xiao could never imagine dwelling in. There were humans of course, pilgrims, thieves, the curious mixing with the pious, mixing with the lost. But they were separate from him, and he had long ago developed a total disinterest in regards to most of their requests. He protected Liyue, not the interests of its citizens. And even if he had wished to mingle with them he knew that it would most likely bring them only despair, as curses clung to him and no matter how much he tried he’d never be able to exorcise them.

And yet you were human. Only now the thought truly cemented itself in Xiao’s mind. You were human, of course you were human. Fate would never be so kind as to simply drop you at his doorsteps, smiling and willing to talk and immortal on top of it; no you’d been born mortal, and in that fact Xiao saw only ruin. He might very well destroy you, for though he’d not truly spent enough time with mortals to see the long term effects of his karma might be, he could hardly imagine it to be pleasant. Even if he didn’t kill you time would. And then where would he be? If he already felt somewhat attached to you now, how would he feel then, after you’d truly gotten to know one another? The idea terrified Xiao so completely that for a moment he felt as if he was drowning. You were human. Why were you human.

Despite this Xiao couldn’t help but feel some sense of relief, even happiness, when you appeared on the balcony again that evening. You leaned against the railing for a bit, but eventually grew tired and went inside. Xiao’s disappointment however was negated when you came back, a chair in one hand a book in the other. Sitting down you opened the book on your lap, but instead of reading it you stared out into the night. And, eventually, you began to speak.

“The innkeeper tells me that what happened yesterday was normal. I’m so sorry I scared you in that way, or perhaps that I approached you so casually. I hadn’t realized you were an adeptus you see, although perhaps that was a stupid mistake on my part, as you hardly seem like a normal person. I’m sorry either way. She also told me that you were often up here in the evenings, so hopefully I’m not talking to myself.” You let out an embarrassed sort of laugh, Xiao loved nothing so much as your laugh in that moment, before continuing. “I don’t know if I’m talking to myself right now, but I do have something for you. I found it on my way here, and though it’s probably common enough here I thought it was pretty. I hope you like it.”

The next day nothing had moved from where you’d left it, and to your disappointment the Qingxin had gotten utterly soaked in the morning rain.

Xiao knew he should say something, knew that it was incredibly rude to leave your gift untouched. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t break down the walls that he’d built up for so long. Not that he could completely stay away either. It’d become a routine of some sorts, to come back to the Inn each night and listen to you speak. You were always there, even when the heat became near unbearable or when you came back so late that it was closer to sunrise than sunset. Even then you still spared at least ten minutes to talk into the dark. Xiao wasn’t sure why you were doing so, although he somewhat suspected Goldet in the matter, nor could he tell why you were waiting for him, being hardly versed in the idea of soulmates and unsure whether you’d realized it or not. Regardless of how or why, the tradition still continued, Xiao silent, you filling said silence with words or laughter or sighs. And at least once a week there was a gift. Though Xiao never touched it and eventually Goldet would come and collect it or it would scatter in the wind.

“I have an idea!” Your voice was filled with excitement today and, as if to match it, you’d abandoned the chair, instead bouncing up and down slightly on your toes as you stared out into the sky. “I’m going to do something for you tomorrow, okay. So be sure not to come back until after sunset, or it won’t be a surprise.”

At first Xiao had been completely set on ruining your surprise, after all he disliked being thrown off guard, and you were hardly close enough an acquaintance for him to consider making an exception. The knowledge that the latter half of his reasoning was completely his fault however managed to keep him away, though he stubbornly refused to come back until a half an hour after sunset.

The balcony was the same as ever, and at first Xiao wondered if you’d hadn’t given up on whatever you’d been scheming. However he quickly became aware of what the surprise was when you came into view, a slightly bashful smile on your face and a plate of Almond Tofu in your lap instead of the usual book or weapon when it needed cleaning.

For once Xiao didn’t think about how Goldet had definitely tipped you off, or how he shouldn’t talk to you, or how you were so oddly persistent. He felt his invisibility fall off of him, as if he’d shed a coat or a second skin. Footsteps causing the wood to creak slightly he watched as you jumped for a moment, having obviously been daydreaming, before smiling widely.

“I’ve heard you like Almond Tofu!” You smiled, reaching the plate out towards the yaksha. Silently taking it Xiao stepped back a bit. You did nothing in response to the gesture, merely sitting there, hands folded in your lap and face full of anticipation.

The dish tasted wonderful, perfectly sweet and melty it seemed somewhat distinct, although why Xiao couldn’t really tell. Eating piece after piece he savored the flavor, for it’d really been quite a long time since he’d been offered Almond Tofu, and whether it was your cooking style or the fact you were the chef he couldn’t help but feel as this batch had come out better than the rest. Xiao couldn’t help himself. Looking up at you he let out a soft smile.

“I’m glad you like it!” You exclaimed, face bright with triumph. Standing up you walked slowly over towards Xiao, hand once more reaching out to take the plate. Instead of letting you take it however Xiao walked into the Inn and placed it on the nearest table. Coming out onto the balcony once more he crossed his arms.

“If you stay close to me you’ll die.”

This, instead of having any sort of negative effect on you, instead caused your eyes to widen, and your smile with it. Bouncing up and down once more you giggled slightly.

“So it really is you.” And, before Xiao could say anything, you turned around, hiking up the sleeve on one of your shoulders. Xiao didn’t need to lean in to make out the spidery lettering that trailed down towards your forearm. He wasn’t surprised in what he saw. If you stay close to me you’ll die.

Honestly, what does one do in a situation like this? Xiao couldn’t tell, having so long abandoned hope of something like this happening. Yet even while his mind reeled once more from the confirmation his legs didn’t. Stepping softly towards you, slightly weary, he reached out and traced the letters on the back of your shoulder, as if trying to convince himself it was real.

“May I see yours?” You said, turning around suddenly. Although your question was direct your tone had somewhat softened, and a slight blush dusted you cheeks. Nodding Xiao lifted up his sleeve, and your fingers ghosted over your words in turn. “I never knew what to think of those words, once I become aware of them,” you smiled softly, “but I’m so glad now I’ve found out.”

“They’re true.” Xiao spoke firmly, fear at the forefront of his thoughts. “You don’t know my past, my burden. Fate hasn’t been kind to you, and I might very well kill you.”

“I’ve read about your supposed curses.” You replied, leaning towards him slightly despite his words. “But you said ‘might very well’ not definitely. And besides,” you shrugged, “I want to trust in fate.”

“Why?” Xiao let out a bitter laugh. “Fate is hardly kind.”

“I don’t know, it brought me to my soulmate after all. If fate were so cruel, surely it would never do such a thing.”

“You’re acting reckless.” The words might’ve been a rebuke but Xiao couldn’t find it in him to be harsh. How much he’d underestimated what it’d be like to meet one’s soulmate. Well, he’d never do so again.

“Perhaps, but I’d like to stay and get to know you better regardless.” You stared at him, eyes both somehow piercing and soft. They were beautiful, your eyes, Xiao could drown in them and hardly notice.

“Very well.” Perhaps not the kindness of concessions, but nevertheless you smiled. Pausing for a moment you reached up and wrapped your arms around him. After a moment Xiao returned the gesture, too caught up in your gentle grasp to want to resist.

Was fate kind? Xiao couldn’t tell. He’d been so sure he’d never find a partner, never some he could call his home, his anchor. And yet it had come to pass, and though Xiao was afraid, so desperately afraid, he also was hopeful. How could he not be? The last thing Xiao had wanted was a soulmate, but now that he’d met you, he never wanted to be without you again.

Both your phrases faded over time. But your love never did.

#first time trying beta posting #hopefully it goes well #this is so self-indulgent #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #oneshot #my writing

[bloodycassian]

“research” Rhysand x reader - reader is a Peregryn descendant from Dawn court acting as Emissary. Rhys takes reader to a museum.

Rhys’ approving stare burned into your back as you stood on the balcony, wings flared. Your Peregryn feathers were a lovely contrast to his dark Illyrian like bat wings. He often muttered his envy about them to you, especially after being intimate. He loved to stroke them and admire the softness and his muttered approvals soothed you to sleep. 

Maybe his approval was coming from the sight of your naked body in the silver moonlight. You felt a swell of heat rush to your cheeks as he approached, his wings also extended. They flared as he reached the open air on the balcony. The shimmering lights of velaris in the snow far, far below. The magic of the House retained the slight wind that blew through, but warmed it instantly. 

“Quite a fancy house for one cruel high lord. I imagine most would think that the Night Court would also be cold.” You remarked, tucking your wings in slightly so he could stand next to you. He tucked in his as well, understanding the sensitivity of such a part being touched. 

Rhysand knew how such a simple touch of a wing could be the undoing of many different feelings. From the pain of them being bent wrong, or pleasure of them being toyed with exactly right. Toying - for research he had called it. Figuring out which form of wing was more sensitive.

“Cruel or no, most of us here have spent far too much time in the cold of Illyrian mountains to settle for less. Azriel usually says if he wasn’t aligned with me, he’d move to the Summer court.” He leaned over the railing, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. Something in his eyes gleamed, and a small smile appeared. 

“Seeing the master of Shadows in a place so bright would be quite the contrast.” You grinned, gripping the railing tight. The urge to jump off and fly was nearly overwhelming. Your wings extended, craving the cold bite of the wind. Despite being such a small heritage, your instincts were sometimes overwhelming. You felt the corners of your lips fall, the memories of your few cousins falling to enemies during the War coming back.

Rhys tucked his wings in, turning to you. Something like sadness was there in his eyes, making you nervous.  “You may leave when you wish. I only ask that you give me...a warning. So I can have a story ready for my court when you go.” He said too formally, as if he had practiced this. After the months of you visiting as a communication link with Thesan, you knew you would have to leave at some point. But you had yet to hear the order to do so. And you much preferred the scenery of Rhy’s court than the safe harbor home Thesan kept sunny constantly. It was… refreshing. Much like Rhy’s presence. 

“Are you telling me to go?” You nudged him slightly, knowing it’d rattle him. His eyes shot to you, and he nudged you back. “Never. I just… wish you could stay.”

He had more to say than that, and you knew it. “Then why ask me if I need to go?”

“Because the longer you stay the less I think I will be willing to let you go.” He wrapped his arms around you, the evidence of claim apparent through his thin cotton pants. “Even if Thesan is one of my closest allies. I may just have to keep you for myself.” His head lowered to your ear as he said it, his lips grazing your skin. You felt your core tense and heat.

“I dont know what you’re talking about. I am merely a communicator between two courts.” You grinned, nipping his ear. His low growl was anything but agreeing. His hands were on you, slowly palming your sensitive areas, lighting your insides on fire. He gave you a lingering kiss before pulling away. He eyed you suspiciously, seeming to deliberate to himself. 

Then, he snapped and suddenly you were fully clothed, and he was standing on the balcony railing. The silver light painted his hair and wings in a dull blue hue. “I have a different idea for us tonight… if you can keep up that is.” His wild smile told you all you needed to know. He leapt gracefully, before catching the wind below with a fading laugh. You cursed quietly to yourself, hauling your body up to the pillar and sending yourself soaring. 

+

“Dont tell me this is some kind of Illyrian initiation.” You chided, matching his pace as best you could. It was hard to not outpace him as he glided, his enormous wings gliding on the cool air. 

He laughed, banking slightly as you approached the small city below. Nestled into the mountain side along the sea, it didnt seem as harsh as the Illyian camps he had showed you from afar. Your mind flashed to those camps, the tents and the tooth chattering cold. No, this place was much too homey for such a camp. 

“This is… a gallery of sorts. Not many come here, but I thought it would also be nice for you to be able to tell Thesan about such a place.” He slowly began descending as he explained, and indeed the location seemed to have many large ancient looking items outside. 

As soon as you landed you were taken aback. The sight of an enormous, dark stone that took up the majority of the space outside the carved entrance to the gallery. A path had been worn around it, as if the spot had many visitors. You doubted many but Rhys even knew about the place. 

“It’s- it reminds me of you.” You were in awe. The stone glittered in the torchlight, but remained dark where the light wasnt refracted. It was smooth as well, besides the jagged and pointed edges. 

Rhysand turned from the mountain entrance “The rock? Darling just wait until you see inside.” He smiled, waving you over. With a wave of his hand, the door opened, pulling back then sliding away. Faelights slowly hummed to life inside the cavernous space. You couldnt see the entire room but the area must have been enormous. No way to see all of the things held inside in one day. Not even multiple days you were willing to bet. “Priestesses are the only others allowed here besides residents of Velaris, but not many of either ever visit. He explained, sending more faelight into the dark cavern.

“There are a few things in particular I wanted to show you.” He took your hand, guiding you to the right down a large archway. The lights bobbed and followed, casting strange shadows along the uneven cave walls. 

The sound of water flowing at a trickling pace filled the new, smaller room. The sight of the armor before your took your breath away. Ancient, well kept and utterly deadly looking. You felt a thrill of panic, as well as pride at the sight of it. “How-” You stammered, covering your mouth with a trembling hand. 

The white and silver plates were excruciatingly detailed, the sword beside the set a shining silver, as if freshly forged by the sun itself. Thesan had no armor of this quality still available at the Dawn court. The quality, the beauty of such a piece was exquisite. “If Thesan wishes to have this back, please feel free. But let him know that we have only recently acquired it. We have not been hoarding.” Rhys spoke from behind you, his voice soft and patient. 

Memories of being a child and playing with wooden swords flashed into your head. Envisioning such perfect armor like before the War fitting you, guilding you, marking you as the highest of warriors among the Dawn court. 

“W-who is we?” Was all you could manage as you reached out to touch the solid breastplate. Memories of parades, children cheering and high fae clapping as generals in shining armor marched home from the War. Centuries had passed since such armor was needed, thus they began to disappear. 

Rhys took your hand again, rubbing a thumb over yours. “A few high priestesses found it among their… storage. Closer to an abandoned temple but - I had Cassian clean it up for me a few weeks ago.” He chuckled before saying “I almost had to threaten him to get him to give it back to me. He was in awe and wanted to keep it for himself.” 

Your lips curve upwards, heart hammering. You pulled him in quickly for a tight hug. “Thank you.” You said deeply, wishing you could put the thoughts you were having directly into his head. Wishing you could tell him how much this meant. 

He pulled away from you, his callused hands going to cup your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Maybe I wont tell Thesan… and I’ll have to come back more often to take a look at the rest of this place.” You bit his lower lip and grinned at his darkened eyes.

“For research purposes only, surely?” He began kissing down the column of your neck, biting playfully. 

“Research, of course.” You sighed as his hands began tracing over your body. 

#RHYSXREADER #RHYSAND X READER #READER INSERT ACOTAR #ACOTAR #ACOTAR FIC

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 30

So, after seeing this post, I wanted to write it. 

I have just realized that @hello-im-not-a-possum is the originator of this AU idea, so this is for them.

This is old and I decided to repurpose it for the “Partner” prompt

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

Henry…honestly wasn’t sure what was going on.

He’d left the infirmary after getting the valve wheel and had been greeted by…a sight he hadn’t seen before. It was a Boris wearing pants, suspenders, a shirt, and a Bendy mask on the side of its head. And it was holding a dustpan.

Henry couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t sure where this Boris had come from and where it had gotten a shirt of all things. He was assuming this was Sammy. Mostly because of the dustpan and the mask, as well as the fact that this was where Sammy usually popped up.

“….Hi,” Henry said slowly. 

The Boris raised its dustpan menacingly. Henry took an instinctive step back.

“Hey! Wait!” He put his hands up, scrambling to find something to appease the irate music director.

This was a change, so maybe he could pick Sammy up as a companion. Maybe he could save him. But he had to act quickly. Sammy in this state wasn’t exactly the patient sort.

He held up a can of soup. “D-Do you want some soup?” He asked with a shaky smile. 

The Boris slowly lowered its dustpan. 

“You would offer me sustenance?” It asked with Sammy’s voice.

“Yeah, sure.” 

For a moment, Sammy stared at Henry. Then he dropped the dustpan and sunk to his knees. 

“My Lord,” he gasped, lowering his head. 

Henry grimaced, kneeling and rolling the soup can to his former friend. This was weird, but he could work with it. 

“Do you…want to come with me?” Henry asked slowly.

“I would follow you anywhere, my Lord,” Sammy said without a hint of sarcasm or insincerity.

“Okay. Cool.” Henry nodded and turned away. “Well, let’s get going.”

Sammy discarded his mask and followed without another word.

Henry hadn’t been entirely sure how they’d get from the Music Department to Boris’ safehouse, but luckily for him the Ink Demon still triggered to chase them. It seemed generally displeased that Sammy was with Henry now, and grew especially displeased when Sammy tried to attack it.

“Sammy, no! We gotta go!” Henry yelled as he dragged Sammy through the hallways. “We are not fighting it!”

“But I must protect you!” Sammy protested, waving his ax in the general direction of the quickly gaining Ink Demon.

“While I appreciate that, I’d rather have you alive!” Henry responded. “I’m not going to lose you again!”

Hearing this made Sammy abruptly stop swinging, which made it considerably easier to drag him. Henry only noticed how much Sammy’s tail was wagging once they had successfully escaped the Ink Demon.

“Sammy? Are you alright?” Henry asked.

Sammy didn’t respond, just staring ahead with a dreamy look while his tail vigorously wagged.

“My Lord values me,” he whispered to himself.

Henry couldn’t help but sigh. This was going to be a thing he would have to deal with, huh? At least Sammy was alright. And the tail wagging was pretty cute.

It was at that moment that the bacon soup can rolled into view and Boris poked his head around the corner.

Sammy jumped into action, getting in front of Henry and brandishing his ax.

“Speak your name and state your purpose!” He demanded.

Boris whimpered and moved away, ears drooping.

“Sammy, it’s alright, he’s a friend,” Henry said, getting between Sammy and Boris. “He’s going to help us.”

Sammy narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment before slowly lowering his ax.

“Very well,” he said. “Rejoice, hound, for my Lord has chosen to spare you.”

Boris looked over at Henry with an expression that radiated confusion.

“I know, he’s kind of weird.” Henry smiled apologetically and patted Boris’ head. “But he’s on our side this time.”

Boris nodded, although he still regarded Sammy warily on their way back to the safe-house.

.

It didn’t take long after they got to the safe-house for Sammy to become incredibly attached to Boris as well. The majority of this was because Boris had provided them both with bacon soup. It also helped Sammy to see Henry interacting positively with Boris. Seeing how much Henry cared about Boris convinced Sammy that the wolf was to be trusted. And more importantly, protected.

This meant when the time came for Alice to steal Boris away, Sammy fought her off tooth and nail. So when Henry woke up, he was greeted with two cartoon wolves, ready to continue helping him on his journey.

Even before that, though, Henry found himself incredibly glad to have Sammy around. Yes, the former music director tended to throw himself into dangerous situations with no regard for his own personal safety, but he was also incredibly helpful with dealing with the corrupted Butcher Gang members and Searchers.

And it was really nice to have someone else to talk to, even if Henry did still have to deal with Sammy’s prophet talk. He hadn’t realized the toll it had taken on him to have to go through all of this alone and almost completely silent.

“You know, I’m really glad you’re here, Sammy,” Henry remarked as they headed down to level 14.

They had finished with all of Alice’s errands except for the one on the Projectionist’s level and Henry wanted to express his appreciation now in case the Projectionist killed Sammy. Because Henry was almost certain Sammy would immediately try to fight the Projectionist.

Sammy blinked, clearly surprised by this comment, and quickly looked away. “I’m glad I can be of service to you, my Lord.”

“It’s not just ‘being of service’,” Henry insisted. “You’re a good ally to have and I’m glad me and Boris have you to help watch our backs.”

Sammy said nothing, although his tail began to vigorously wag.

Boris made a noise that might have been a laugh and hugged Sammy. The relationship between the two of them had improved even further since the safe-house, which made Henry happy to see. 

“I am…glad that you both enjoy my company,” Sammy said slowly, tail wagging even more vigorously at the hug. “…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Henry smiled and patted Sammy’s shoulder.

The elevator reached level 14 a minute later, and Henry and Sammy got out.

Henry approached the railing, scanning the ink flooded level below. If they were lucky, maybe they could avoid the Projectionist.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be in the cards.

“Ssh…There he is.” Alice’s voice came through the speakers as the Projectionist walked out of one of the doorways. “The Projectionist. Skulking in the darkness. You be sure to stay out of his light, if you don’t want trouble. Just bring me back the pieces I need.”

“Alright. We need to get the ink hearts and avoid him,” Henry whispered. “So don’t go fighting him, okay?” He looked over to make sure Sammy understood, only to see that Sammy was already jumping over the railing to go attack the Projectionist.

“Fuck!” Henry all but sprinted down the stairs to where Sammy was attempting to defeat the Projectionist.

Thankfully, they were able to take him out before Sammy was killed, although Henry did die at one point. But, as usual, he was resurrected at a Bendy statue.

“The monster has been defeated!” Sammy proclaimed proudly once the Projectionist fell.

For a moment, Henry just stood there, catching his breath. Then he grabbed Sammy by the shoulders and all but slammed him against the wall.

“M-My Lord?” Sammy’s eyes widened, taken aback by Henry’s sudden violent gesture. Henry had never behaved like this toward him before.

“Stop doing that!” Henry yelled.

“S-Stop doing what, my Lord?”

“Stop just running into danger like that!” Tears were welling up in Henry’s eyes.

“But I…I must protect you,” Sammy said.

“Then don’t try to die!” Henry’s grip on Sammy’s shoulders tightened slightly. “If you want to protect me then stay!” His voice dropped in volume as he began to quietly sob. “Please. I can’t lose you again, Sammy. Please.”

Sammy paused, unsure how to react. On one hand, he felt he needed to defend his Lord from whatever threat might arise, taking preemptive action if needed. On the other hand, it was clearly upsetting his Lord that he was putting himself in danger. But why did it matter? Sammy was but a humble servant of his Lord. His life was of no consequence.

Still, if his Lord wished for him to cease these actions, he should obey.

“Very well,” he nodded solemnly. “I will…Try not to behave so recklessly in the future.”

“Thank you,” Henry whispered, pulling Sammy into a partner. “I…I know you don’t think of yourself like this but…I consider you my friend. And my partner.”

Sammy’s tail began to vigorously wag once more, which got a laugh out of Henry.

“Alright.” Henry pulled back with a tearful smile. “Let’s, uh, let’s go get those ink hearts and get back to Alice so we can get out of here.”

Sammy’s tail abruptly stopped wagging and his ears drew back.

“I still don’t see why we must play her games,” he grumbled as he followed Henry into the labyrinth.

“I know I know.” Henry nodded as he scanned the corners for ink hearts. “But she controls the elevator.”

Not to mention, they needed to follow the script, even with this change.

Sammy grumbled under his breath, but said nothing more on the subject. Instead, he began to sniff the air. Before Henry could ask what he was doing, Sammy was off like a shot.

“Hey! Sammy! Where are you going?!” Henry scrambled after him.

It turned out Sammy could sniff out the ink hearts. Which was unexpected (even though Sammy was currently a canine), but not unwelcome, and ended up cutting the time Henry usually spent searching in half. This skill also helped them get out of the labyrinth since Henry hadn’t picked up the ink heart on the platform in his hurry to save Sammy.

As they grabbed the last ink heart and got back in the elevator, Henry once again thought about how happy he was to have Sammy there with him. He wouldn’t be alone this loop. Not even for a second.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #sheepdog sammy au #batim au #sammy lawrence #henry stein #boris the wolf #the ink demonth

[sarya-lavellan]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 3807

Status: WIP (Chapter 13)

Read on AO3

It was late when she arrived two days after the memorial back in Wycome. The air had grown chillier though still quite comfortable for the time of year. The leaves had just started taking on the hues of red and orange, unlike in Ferelden where they had all just tumbled to the ground, buried instantly in a foot of snow. She picked her way around the docks, replaying memories of Thom until she reached her brother's house. She paused then rapped lightly, waiting to see her son again. The door flung open and Han greeted her with a welcoming grin.

“Back already?” He waved her inside.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to leave you with Ameridan for too long.”

Han sat down in his rocking chair, using his magic to crochet a baby blanket while he whittled away at a tiny bow. His house was cozy and tastefully messy. Filled with all sorts of plants and handmade items tossed about but clean.

“What is all this? Working on some gifts for El?”

“You really are daft sometimes you know that?” Han smirked. “Ameridan is sleeping soundly by the way. He is quite the eater.”

“You know you don’t need to make anything for me. I could just buy it.”

“Or you can accept fine craftsmanship from family as a gift. I want da’fen to always have a piece of his family with him.”

“Already given him nicknames?” She undid her foot wraps and went to him, resting her elbow on the top of the chair.

“What else would you expect from me? He’s the son of the fiercest wolf I know. And I’m not speaking of The Dread Dog.”

She smirked. “I’m not sure about that. Wolves are clever and marvelous beasts.”

She felt like none of those things.

“Need I remind you of your accomplishments?”

“What? How I stumbled, quite literally, into a leadership role. Then was guided by one amazing Josephine Montilyet who should have really been credited for all the Inquisition's best moves and allies?”

“Well I was going to say how you made The Dread Wolf take his place behind you. You achieved that through words. I’d say that’s pretty clever.”

Clever. She laughed inwardly. It wasn’t clever. It was stupid and desperate and a maybe even a little possessive if she wanted to be honest. She took a deep breath and let the thoughts go, they would lead her somewhere she didn’t want to go.

Her brother was too kind. She would allow his compliments to sit with her without disagreement.

“Thank you,” she said.

She wanted to cry. Whether it was the fact that her family had integrated Ameridan into their fold or the fact that her beloved friend had passed or maybe even because one moment she and Solas were attempting to be friends and the next he had rejected her son and recently said that he missed her. She didn’t know. Probably a combination of all of the above. But she threw her arms around Han’s neck and let herself feel. He set the mini bow down in his lap and hugged her back, real tight.

“You didn’t think you were going to do this alone did you?”

She let out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “I was prepared to.”

Han tisked. “Not on the watch of Clan Lavellan. You should know better by now.”

She hugged him tighter.

“I can’t thank you enough.” She snuggled and pulled away.

“Did you see Solas?” Han asked.

She swallowed. Sat down in the chair across from him. She was hoping nobody would ask. Especially Han. “I did. I feel—I don’t know–“ She thought about lying. Wanted to lock all her truths away and lock them up tight. Instead she said, “I feel ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes. Not for reasons you would think. I’m not ashamed of choosing Ameridan. But ashamed I had forced Solas’ hand. I am ashamed for not talking to him sooner. For not asking him what he needed or wanted. Before everything that has happened. I am also ashamed that I miss him dearly.”

It was a great weight off her just to say that. Enough to admit it aloud.

He hummed, nodding. He stroked his chin in thought then said, “Why would you be ashamed to miss someone you love?”

“Because I want him back. I want him here.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sarya rocked back and forth watching the blanket come together and then said, “do you remember when we were little and we spent all evening catching fireflies in a jar?”

Han chuckled. “And we brought them inside so we could see them light up our dark room. But you felt bad for them being in a jar so you set them free. I remember Ellana lecturing you until she was blue in the face.”

“Yeah. I remember being so scared mamae would be mad. Especially when some of them had died. But she wasn’t. She explained why nature, no matter how much we love and admire it, is better left alone and admired from afar. Why we should only take what we need and allow it to flourish without our intervention. Better to let what is already free remain that way.”

“Mamae is wise like that,” Han said.

“For some reason that keeps sticking with me.”

“Because you think wanting Solas means you’re keeping him from being free.”

Sarya crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not–well–I–how did you…”

He threw her a withering look. “You do love to obsess over everything. I happen to know which subject is your current and most frequent.”

She sighed. “I’m tired of it too.”

“I’m not tired of hearing about it or him for that matter. You love him but you’re not sure how it’s supposed to look. I’m more tired for you. Must be exhausting to live in your head.”

“I just feel like it’s better to set him completely free. There’s just too much of our muddied past that gets in the way.”

“When I carve my weapons, in each of them you could find error. Do you think that they are unusable then?”

“Well yeah if the error is something major.”

“Very well. And if that weapon is needed to help the clan would I give them the faulty weapon or would I start anew?”

“Start over of course. But you can’t do that with people!” Sarya cried. “What you carve from your wood has no memory of your mistake.”

Han continued, “But the people receiving the weapon do. Do you think I have never made a weapon that hasn’t been faulty in the hands of a hunter? Papae’s scar on his left forearm is from his staff blade that wasn’t secured properly and fell off while he was casting. It was my fault. He even has the scar to remember that it was me. He could’ve removed me from studying under Master Tawen and I’d never be where I am today unless I had learned from that heart wrenching mistake.”

“And if you’d kept making the mistake, leaving Papae with multiple scars?”

“I would forge a new path for myself, one in which I’m not hurting him. I wouldn’t remove myself from his life.”

“But what if he asked you to leave?”

Han leaned forward in his chair. “Has Solas asked you to stay away from him?”

“Well, no. But maybe he’s afraid to say that.”

This made Han laugh. Sarya was offended that he found it funny. “Not afraid. Just incapable. That stupid man loves you and probably always will.”

“Incapable,” Sarya said. “That’s it. So maybe I should stay away for his own good.”

“Yes, we all saw how good it was for you to stay away,” he said, rolling his eyes. “How was the rotunda by the way?”

Sarya remembered the empty walls. The empty room. The empty air. The emptiness.

She didn’t answer Han.

The magic surrounding the blanket that he was knitting dispersed as it finished and it fell neatly into the basket below. “Look, Sarya, I won’t tell you that you’re soulmates destined to be. Personally I don’t believe in soulmates and people change and even grow apart. You may be bondmates but you’re not bound for eternity. If your heart is truly telling you to let him go then so be it. Your family will be here to support you either way. You want to pursue him? I’ll be happy to support you. You want to let go and grieve? I’ll be here. I will always be here for you. But I will not tell you how to live your life. You must make that decision for yourself.”

Sarya sucked in a breath between her teeth. She never believed in soulmates before and she wasn’t sure if she believed in the concept now. She wanted to. The idea was romantic and sounded somewhat magical. Two people facing the world together, beating everything that tried to break them. Stronger together and all that. That’s what it was supposed to be when two people didn’t keep misfiring at each other.

She had missed Solas while she was at Skyhold and she missed him even now. Every time she looked at her son, she often thought of Solas and how he would parent. How he would look at her, a smile on his face, happy with the name she chose. How he would soothe her anxious mind and rub her tired feet. She thought of how he would constantly feed and carry Ameridan everywhere with him and at the end of the day she’d rub the tension away from his shoulders. She thought of how happy it would make her to hear him call Ameridan theirs. She thought of all the ways they were better together and yet, she knew that her thoughts often didn’t align with her reality. What they could be and what they were seemed entirely too different.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

Han bit his lower lip in thought. “Unfortunately, I can’t even pretend to know the answer to that dear sister.”

Sarya sighed.

“Do you want him back?”

“I always do. But it’s unfair. I don’t know how to be with him. Accept him I mean. At least not who he is now. I’m so caught up in our history that I have a hard time seeing our present, let alone what our future could be.”

“Why?” Han asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you feel you must protect yourself by holding onto the past. What is your worst fear, Sarya?”

Sarya went quiet. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ll think on it. I’m exhausted Han. I’m going to head to bed.” She stopped at the doorway to the room and turned back. “And thank you for this.” She gestured around the room. “For everything.”

He gave her a nod. Picked up the mini bow again. “Goodnight dear sister. Dream well.”

She wandered back to the bedroom where Ameridan’s crib sat in the corner. She peeked over the railing and stroked his little chubby cheek before heading to bed.

Sleep overcame her. And she dreamt of great pain. Multitudes of voices echoing around her. Mouths opened to scream with no words but she felt them–their pain–pooling from a well inside of her and rippling through her. They reached out to her, clawed at her clothes, scratched at her arms. Their faces were melting away and she couldn’t make out who they were. Just knew they were elves by the point of their ears. Desperation was in their eyes.

“What do you need?” she asked. She was turning in circles, searching their faces. But they spoke those ancient words she’d never taken the time to learn. Their hands were on her, pulling her down under water. Plunging her into darkness. Washing her away with sorrows upon sorrows. Solas’ face was there amongst the others and tried to reach out to him. But there was too much chaos.

The scent of death burned in her nostrils and still stung her eyes when she woke in a cold sweat.

“Solas!” she cried. But he wasn’t there and she wrapped her arms around her knees and bowed her head.

Ameridan woke with her, working himself into a great fuss and she threw off the covers and went to him, soothing him with a song as she held him and rocked him.

“It’s okay, sweet one. You’re safe. I’m here. Mamae is here.” As she spoke the words, it brought relief to her own mind too. She stayed up with him for a few hours. Fed him, rocked him, sang to him and eventually fell asleep with him next to her in the bed.

—

Next morning, Sarya was at the beach, toes curled in the cool sand, basking in the rays of sun while enjoying the slight breeze that had come in. Baby Ameridan was fast asleep in her arms and for the first time in such a long while she felt content.

“Too bad you’re sleeping,” she said to Ameridan. “You’re missing out on a beautiful view.” She kissed his forehead.

“I’m not sure he’d even be able to enjoy it if he was awake. He is a baby after all.” Han sat down beside her in the sand. “What are you doing out here?”

“Sometimes you just need to sit in the sun,” she said. “I always remember that the world is bigger than me when I’m here.” She sighed as she stared out across the waves of the sea. A plethora of blues and greens stretched out before and above.

“Hmm yes,” Han said. The waves gurgled against the shore. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

Sarya blinked, coming to from her reveries and admiration. “Whatever you need.”

“I was officially elected for a council seat while you were away.”

Sarya smiled huge. “Really?” If she still had her other arm, she would’ve punched him. “That’s so great! I’m so proud of you! Though slightly pissed I wasn’t there to see it happen.”

He smirked. “Yes well, that just means you should be really proud to help me while I rebuild homes for the elves in the alienage. They deserve to have a community as nice as ours.”

“I agree with you of course. And I’d be happy to help.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He stood, dusting himself off and smiled down at her. So proud. So loving. And she couldn’t understand it.

Later she was hammering nails into boards with the baby on her back. The consistent whacking soothing her mind in some kind of way. She hummed and the autumn sun warmed the hair on her head. Forgot to eat lunch and didn’t realize time was even passing until Ameridan started fussing on her back.

“Oh.” She set the hammer down and reached for her son, pulling him out to have a look at him. Nearby, her pack sat, a bottle full of halla milk in the side pouch. Another special gift given by her family.

She began to feed Ameridan when Han showed up again, this time with Zevran in tow.

“Zevran! It’s so good to see you! I assumed you’d changed plans and weren’t coming.”

“Yes, well, I was momentarily delayed by some fellow assassins.”

Sarya raised a brow. “I hope you took care of those assassins…”

“It seems one has escaped. But no worries, I will find them soon enough.” Zevran bowed, taking her hand and kissing it in the process. It was as suave and graceful as ever. She never could quite master the finesse and charm that Zev had. “Ah, my dear Inquisitor. I am honored to be in your presence.”

Sarya tucked her hand into her pocket and flushed without meaning to. “Please, just call me Sarya.”

“As you wish. What did I miss?”

“Nothing actually. Just another day of work.”

“Then it seems I lucked out,” said Zevran.

Han laughed. “You really did.”

He and Zevran exchanged smiles and Sarya shook her head. “Han, have you shown him around the market yet?”

Han just smirked. “Nope but I’m planning to now. Care to join us?”

“No, thank you. I need to get Ameridan out of the sun and I promised El I’d help her prep for dinner this evening.”

“I’m a little bummed,” Han said.

“I'm not. I’ve never enjoyed being a third wheel,” Sarya said.

“Your loss.” Han took Zevran’s hand in his own. “See you around.”

“It was a pleasure to see you again.” Zevran threw her a wink.

“Trust me. The pleasure’s all mine,” she replied with a smile then waved them off.

She stayed out for a little while longer, sitting under the shade of the alienage tree, eating some stale sourdough crackers and berries she had packed before self awareness and overthinking kicked into gear. Then she tucked Ameridan back in the carrier, picked up her things and wandered home.

-

In the evening, Sarya helped her sister arrange a tray of fresh bread, cheeses, and fruit while Ellana cooed at Ameridan.

“He’s so precious,” she told her.

Sarya smiled, placing the finishing touches on the tray. “I think so.”

El’s voice lowered. “How are you doing?”

Sarya was surprised. Her sister didn't usually ask those sorts of questions. They’d always been best at bickering.

“Okay, I guess,” Sarya said.

El squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay even if you aren’t. Becoming a mother is difficult—it can be a heavy transition, especially when you’re grieving a loss. Just–I’m here if you need me, okay?”

Sarya placed a hand over hers. “Thank you, El. That means more to me than you could possibly know.”

Ellana smiled softly.

[continued on ao3]

#solavellan #post trespasser #but canon divergent #solas #Sarya Lavellan #vhenan’ara #chapter 13: solid #solas x sarya #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #bear writes

[walkerwords]

“Tell Me a Story” Lydia & Negan

Summary: A curious Lydia asks Negan to tell her about the war as Alexandrians rebuild the community that Beta trampled with his horde.

Word Count: 3067

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Not Today” by Imagine Dragons

Note: While “Here’s Negan” hasn’t come out yet and we don’t know whether or not he speaks with Lydia, I needed to write this conversation between them. I love this relationship and I think Negan is the father figure that Lydia truly needs. 

----------

Alexandria was in shambles after Beta had led his horde through the safe zone. 

Negan, being one of the strongest members of the community, was asked to help with repairs. While he still never felt as if he was a member of the home he once tortured, he felt as if it was his duty to help rebuild the walls he also once burned down.

The residents were still uncomfortable around the former tyrant, but there was now a new understanding among Alexandrians after Negan had put his life on the line to kill the alpha of the Whisperers. 

Still, there was that aura of negativity that surrounded him and even silent backlash against those who would interact with him. Carol was facing some of it as she was the one to let the wolf out of his cage, but Carol was still Carol and that carried weight and respect that Negan no longer had.

Now, with Maggie back home and her and Glenn’s son in tow, everything that Negan had begun to build, including trust with people like Daryl, Carol, Gabriel, and even Aaron, was becoming irrelevant again.

As soon as he saw her at the rendezvous point after he and Daryl had finished off Beta, his heart had sunk well below his ribs. The new chapter in the Book of Negan had crumbled along with the rest of the neglected paperbacks in the new world. 

However, there were still those on his side. People like Judith, Gabriel, and especially, Lydia. While Lydia and Negan had their issues, there was a connection there that would not be so easily broken by a few glares or hushed whispers. 

Lydia had found a home in Alexandria just as others had when trying to escape the fears from outside the walls. When Daryl had brought her to Alexandria and she had met Negan, everything she thought about the Living had changed. She and Negan were similar in that people didn’t trust them and at times, people feared them. Lydia saw herself in Negan and he did as well.

The two of them were outsiders living within a community that would never fully trust them. However, no matter what the Alexandrians thought, there would always be those few people that they could rely on.

Lydia wandered through the dark streets of Alexandria. The walls were being repaired, the windmill too, and people seemed to be in higher spirits as the war had ended. Lydia still noticed the stares and occasional whispers about her, but those seemed to be coming from the people she didn’t know as well.

The people she saw as a family such as Daryl, Carol, Kelly, Aaron, Gabriel, and even Rosita, who remained kind to her, kept her spirits high. Then, of course, there was Negan, the one person she felt as if she could tell anything. 

Walking towards where Negan was staying, Lydia absently twirled her staff, trying to perfect the movements Henry once showed her before he died. Moving past the Grimes house, she noticed Judith sitting on the steps with her baby brother, keeping him warm with a blanket as she read to him. Daryl was around too, walking with Dog and speaking to Rosita who carried Coco in her arms. 

As Lydia got closer to Negan’s, she noticed Maggie near the vegetable patch, scanning the food stores. Lydia was introduced to the woman a day before, but she didn’t know how to speak to her, let alone act around her. Lydia had heard stories of the previous leader of Hilltop, just as she had heard stories about Ezekiel and Carol who ran the Kingdom for years. 

She knew that Negan had killed Maggie’s husband and that that incident led to the war between the allied communities and Negan’s soldiers who were known as The Saviors. Nobody liked to talk about those years of bloodshed, but after seeing how Maggie Rhee glared at the man who had saved Lydia on multiple occasions, she had had enough and needed answers.

Moving past the woman, Lydia continued towards the small house Negan was staying in. She found him easily as he was sitting on the steps of the house, drinking from a glass jar. Even from down the road, Lydia could tell it wasn’t water. 

“Can’t sleep?” Lydia asked as she approached. Negan looked up at her, giving her a small smile. 

“Not sure any of us have ever gotten a decent night’s sleep in a while, kid,” he said. Lydia couldn’t argue with that. Climbing the steps, she settled down next to him and then held out her hand. Negan narrowed his eyes at her. “How old are you again?”

“I have no idea,” Lydia said and it was true. Time was confusing now. She figured she was around sixteen, but she couldn’t be sure. 

“Fine, but only if you give me that,” Negan said, pointing to the weapon at her side. Lydia handed over her staff and he stowed it behind him before handing her the glass jar. “Go easy,” he said after glancing around, most likely looking for Daryl who would frown upon the teenager drinking moonshine.

Lydia took a small sip of the alcohol, cringing at the flavor before handing it back. She coughed as it burned her throat and Negan laughed. “I don’t think I like that,” Lydia said, wiping her mouth. 

“Good,” Negan said. “This stuff will kill ya.”

“Why drink it then?” Lydia asked. 

“Because it’s the only thing that makes me feel anything right now,” he admitted, taking another sip. 

“This about Maggie?” she asked. Negan was thoughtful for a moment, weighing her words. 

“Some of it,” he admitted. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Apologize?” Lydia offered. 

“Trust me, she doesn’t want to hear those words come from my mouth. The second I even begin, she’ll put an arrow through my eye.”

“It’s been a long time,” Lydia said. 

“It could be thirty years and she wouldn’t care,” Negan said with a sigh. “I get it though, I’d hate me too. I killed the man she loved as she watched. Maggie was pregnant as she watched me beat him to death, Lydia. I ain’t never going to ask her to forgive me.” 

“I would forgive you,” she said. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” Negan said quickly. “Do you forgive Alpha for killing Carol’s boy?” Lydia was silent and that gave him his answer. “Exactly.”

“Okay, so maybe I could never forgive her, but I may have been able to live with her if she had changed like you had,” Lydia posited. 

“You didn’t know me before now, kiddo,” he said. “I was...horrible, but there was still good in me even if it was buried deep. I don’t know if your mom had any of that in her.”

“If you had good in you back then, why did it take you so long to do something about it?” she asked. 

“That is the million-dollar question,” Negan said with another sip of the moonshine. “I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. I was a power-hungry asshole who used fear to keep that power. Hell, I may still be that asshole.” 

“You’re not,” Lydia said. “You’re a good person.” Negan gave her a look that spoke louder than his usual snarky candor. “Okay, then you are a person who does good things,” she corrected and Negan nodded, accepting that change. “So, if you can’t apologize to her, what can you do?”

“I can keep out of her way and do everything I can to make sure that nobody hurts these people, especially that little boy of hers.”

“Daryl told me that he looks like his father,” Lydia said. 

“Why are you asking me about all this?” Negan asked, putting down the moonshine and turning towards her fully. Lydia almost looked ashamed in the low light from the camper lantern on the railing behind them.

“Tell me about the war between Alexandrians and the Saviors,” she said. 

“Why?”

“You know about my past,” Lydia rationalized. “I want to know about yours.”

“You want to know about the worst years of my life? That doesn’t seem fair,” Negan said. Lydia shrugged. 

“You met me during mine,” Lydia reminded him. “Come on, tell me something, anything.” Negan looked at her, then he looked around before sighing and leaning against the railing next to him. 

“You really want to know?” 

“I do,” she said. 

“Fine,” he said, running a hand over his stubble. “I’ll tell you about the day I met these people and then maybe you can finally see just who you are spending all your time with.”

Lydia frowned but gestured for him to go on. “I’m listening,” she said. With a heavy sign, Negan looked away from her and stared out at the sleeping community. 

“They attacked first,” Negan began, “though, I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore. Alexandria was in need of food and Hilltop was willing to help as long as they took care of a problem first. You see, Maggie or Tara, or Jesus didn’t always run Hilltop, it used to be this man named Gregory. He was… He was an idiot and not capable of leading a community. He was also a coward which made him easy to control.” 

“You had Hilltop giving you supplies,” Lydia guessed. 

“Right,” Negan said with a nod. “When Rick, Judith’s father, found out, he offered to take down the Saviors if it meant that Hilltop would share their resources. Problem was, Gregory gave them the wrong information. He sent Rick and his people to one of my outposts, not the main factory. They killed everyone in the satellite station, most while they were sleeping.” 

“Just like that? No warning?” Lydia asked. 

“Just like that,” Negan said, remembering the rage he had felt when Simon had told him what happened that night. “When I found out, I sent a group of my men to take out a few of theirs. Though it didn’t matter because your friend Daryl blew them up with an RPG.” Lydia’s brow raised at that, clearly surprised. “That was the last straw and so I had to do something.”

“The ambush,” Lydia said. 

“You know about that, huh?”

“Carol told me some, but not all,” she said. 

“Well, Carol wasn’t there,” Negan said. “Yes, it was an ambush. I set up roadblocks a lot like the ones I used to keep you all from leaving Hilltop when I was helping your mother. We corralled them and forced them into a clearing not too far from here. They were trying to get Maggie to Hilltop, I think there was something wrong with her baby.” 

“Herschel?” 

“Yeah,” Negan said, casting his eyes down. “I made them get on their knees and I threatened them. To be honest I didn’t think I was going to kill more than one of them, but I was on this...high and I couldn’t stop.” 

“What happened next?”

“I told Rick what was going to happen and then I killed a man named Abraham. He was close with Rosita, I think,” Negan said, remembering everything Gabriel had once told him about his victims. “It was brutal and bloody, but I couldn’t feel anything.” 

“Why do you think that is?”

“I couldn’t tell you, kid,” Negan said. “I have tried for so long to figure out why I was like that, but I don’t know.” 

“What happened next?”

“Daryl punched me in the face,” Negan said with a humorless laugh. 

“Seriously?” Negan nodded. 

“I had warned them not to move and when Daryl hit me, I lost it. That’s when I killed Glenn, Maggie’s husband. I beat him until his head was nothing but brains. Right fucking in front of his sick and pregnant wife,” Negan said as he let his eyes close. “When it was happening, I didn’t feel a thing. I didn’t realize what was happening, but afterwards… I knew what I had done and more importantly what I had done to her. The way she looked at me after that was as if she had already decided I was bound for Hell. Shit, I know I am, but I knew then that she wanted to be the one to send me there.”

“Why him? Why Glenn and not Daryl or the leader, Judith’s father?” Lydia asked, patient as ever. Negan thought about it for a moment thinking over everything that had happened in the last eight years or so, thinking about the way he approached scenarios. He always knew the “how”, but never the “why”?. The truth was, he never had an answer for any of it. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t think I cared enough to know, Lydia.” Negan finally turned to look at her and it took her a moment, but eventually saw the earnest look in his eyes. Negan was telling her the truth. However, that was never in doubt. It was rare when the man died, especially when it came to kids. 

“What about Carl?” she asked suddenly, realizing she wasn’t going to get an answer about Maggie’s husband. 

“Carl? How do you know about him?” Negan asked. 

“Daryl told me when I found one of his shirts in Michonne’s house,” Lydia explained. “He was her son?” 

“Stepson,” Negan clarified. “Sort of. I don’t know if Michonne and Rick ever made it official, but yes, he was Rick’s son and Judith’s older brother. Smart as hell, braver than anyone in this damn world. Carl cared about everything and more. He was someone you wanted to be around, you know? No matter the shit situation you were in, Carl fucking Grimes was there to look on the bright side,” Negan said with a small smile. 

“You cared about him,” Lydia said. It wasn’t a question. 

“I did,” Negan said with a frown. “That damn kid believed in me for some reason and I always threw it back in his face. Then it was too fucking late for me to do anything about it.”

“When did he die?” Lydia asked. 

“Right before the war ended.”

“How?” 

“Kid was saving Siddiq,” Negan said. “He was trying to help the Doc when he got bit. Carl didn’t tell anyone until it was too late, but he wrote letters to explain.” 

“He wrote one to you?” 

“He did, Michonne read it to me,” Negan said with a finality that didn’t have Lydia asking more questions about what the letter entailed. She figured it was something that would have to stay with Negan and Michonne alone. 

“Did you get to say goodbye?”

“No,” Negan said. “Rick told me he died the day after it happened. I spoke to him that night and he never told me he was bit.” 

“Seems unfair,” Lydia whispered. 

“Isn’t everything?” Negan asked. Lydia looked at him for a moment before scooting closer to him and leaning into his side. Negan didn’t hesitate to pull her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They were both quiet for a moment before Lydia had another question. 

“Do you think they would have liked me? Rick and Carl,” Lydia asked. 

“Yes,” Negan said firmly. “Rick would have loved you, Carl, too. Hell, Judith loves you.”

“You’re very protective of her,” Lydia noticed. 

“Yeah,” Negan said, rubbing Lydia’s arm, trying to reassure her in some way. 

“Why?”

“Because her brother asked me to,” Negan said simply. Lydia sat up then, looking at him with confusion. Negan, knowing she wanted more, continued. “Before he died, Carl and I spoke briefly. I had come to Alexandria to cause chaos and I met Judith. She was so small, unable to talk at the time. Carl didn’t want me around, but I think he knew I would never hurt her. Before his father came home, Carl asked me for something.” 

“What?”

“He said that no matter what happened between my people and his, he wanted my assurance that Judith would be safe. I told him I would die before something happened to that little girl. Anyone who hurts a kid deserves to die. When he died, I made a promise to myself that if she was ever in danger, I would do anything I could to keep her safe.” 

“Like when you saved her when the blizzard happened,” Lydia said, remembering the story Judith had told her. 

“I have always been a damn sucker,” Negan said, looking down at her. Lydia smiled as she leaned back into him. 

“I’m glad you are,” Lydia said. “Or else I’d be pretty dead right about now.”

“I ain’t gonna let anyone hurt you,” Negan promised. Lydia smiled at that as she sat with the man that had become like a father to her. 

“Do you think you and Maggie could ever be...decent?” Negan laughed at that, but it was more bitter than anything. 

“I don’t think we could ever be civil, Lydia,” Negan said. “What I did to her cannot be fixed with a few good deeds and an apology. Nobody here cares whether I live or day besides maybe Judith.” 

“And me,” Lydia corrected. 

“Yeah, and you,” Negan said with a small smile as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

Lydia and Negan sat there as the words from his story settled in her mind. Lydia had known a lot about what Negan was and what he had done, but hearing what he thought about it all had offered her a new understanding about the man. 

Regardless of what happened next, Lydia wasn’t going to turn her back on him. Negan had saved her life, more than once, and nothing would make her leave him behind. She knew that the council was still debating on what to do with Negan, but Lydia couldn’t think about that. He was the only person who she could fully rely on because he had met her at her lowest. 

Letting out a breath, Lydia let her eyes close as she listened to his breathing. Daryl had always spoken about a chosen family and now Lydia was sure that she had chosen Negan and nothing was going to separate them. Not Maggie, not the council, and definitely not the screwed up world that had tried to take them down but failed. 

They were stronger than all of it and together, they would prove it. 

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @yes-sir-hotchner​ @lucillethings​ @stark-dreams​ @huffledor-able541​ @please-help-this-little-bisexual​ 

#lydia twd #negan #negan fiction #negan fanfiction #10c #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #negan fanfiction twd #walkerwords

[joezworld]

What is the status of vehicle rights in places like China or Russia, with rather patchy (at best) human rights records? What was it like in the USSR, Nazi Germany, or the Empire of Japan? And did Mussolini ever get his locomotives to run completely on time?

Strangely enough, it was a lot better in those countries for at least a while. 

To start, check out this post that goes into a little detail.

So, this post is going to not mention the United States or Canada - I’ve done posts on them before. 

Interestingly, three of the greatest proponents of locomotive rights in Europe came from people with some of the worst human rights records in modern history: Hitler, Stalin, and King Leopold II.

Belgium has a long history of locomotive rights, stretching back to within 20 years of the introduction of the railway in the country. During the first days of the reign of Leopold II, the king declared that locomotives and other railway equipment were to be considered “on the same level as any Belgian citizen”. Official government histories say that this was because of the king’s desire not allow slavery to happen on Belgian soil, but the existence of the very inappropriately named Congo Free State puts this answer in a very bad light. The generally accepted unofficial answer is much, much funnier - Leopold II was born after the first railways were laid in the country, and as the future king, he was kept well appraised of any new technologies in the country. He also had many, many, many, mistresses. In case you can’t tell where this is going, it is entirely likely that several of his more private extramarital affairs were with locomotives owned by the Belgian state rail company. Locomotives were at the time viewed as little more than beasts of burden, and while Leopold was more than willing to commit heinous atrocities upon the Africans, he was not about to stand here in his own country and get called an enjoyer of bestiality - so he made locomotives people in order to get ahead of his critics should an affair be made public. This had the interesting side effect of making Belgium one of the more progressive countries in Europe as far as locomotive rights went, and Belgian locomotives were very dedicated citizens often serving in civil and military leadership positions around the country. During the first world war, Belgian locomotives actively resisted the Germans for the entirety of the invasion, and a not-insignificant percentage of German locomotives brought in to manage the chaos were brought over to the Belgian side by promises of citizenship. 

-----------

This did not go unnoticed by other, much worse European leaders such as Adolf Hitler, who understood the value of a functioning rail network as far as war logistics went, and made significant strides in offering French/Dutch/Polish/Russian/Norwegian/Italian/Etc. engines Nazi citizenship if they served the Reich. Unfortunately for Hitler, Nazis are terrible people who lead out fear, and many of the locomotives who did sign up for this did so because they wanted to Not Die, not because they supported the cause. As a result, large portions of the Reichsbahn rolling stock fleet just ran away or defected as soon as the Allies started getting near, causing serious supply issues that hastened the downfall of the German war effort. 

Also, because I know someone is going to ask about it, yes, those trains still ran. Please don’t ask me to elaborate beyond what’s here. 

Because locomotives would see what was going on and objected, the Reichsbahn very quickly began staffing those trains with engines that were True Believers, or (even worse) Jewish engines. (Those usually made one way trips, and it’s just as bad as you might think.)

Following the war, many locomotives who had been cleared of any collaboration charges still possessed their Nazi-Era citizenship, and tried to get them turned into citizenship of their home countries. Most places said no (except Belgium) and were promptly glared at by the American service-engines who were rebuilding their countries from the ground up, and then agreed. 

The impact on European Locomotive Rights by the Americans cannot be understated. Most European governments were totally prepared to resume the status quo if it wasn’t for the Americans rolling around with their US Citizen status on full display. This is also another reason why England is such a laggard in Locomotive Rights - the country was not as heavily destroyed as continental Europe, and was able to rebuild itself without US "interference".

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Stalin also was a firm believer in Locomotive Rights, for many of the same reasons as Hitler was - locomotives have the ability to bring your country to a halt, so you’d better have them on your side. He’d made attempts to make locomotives citizens before the war, but the Soviet efforts really came into their own during the 1950s - Stalin’s purges had removed a lot of humans from existence, and most locomotives at that point had been built by the USSR in the USSR, and therefore had no concept of ‘Disloyalty to The State", so they were natural fits for many roles within the Soviet government. At one point in 1982, the USSR’s Ministry of Transport was staffed only by vehicles, with no humans present whatsoever. The total integration of vehicles into the USSR reached its zenith in the late 70s, when new buildings were required to have elevators capable of lifting locomotives and other extremely heavy vehicles to at least the third floor - this requirement has remained even to this day, and most eastern European residential structures have the structural strength of a nuclear bomb shelter as a result. 

It should be pointed out that while the USSR might have treated locomotives well, it was still an authoritarian dystopia, and nothing here is an endorsement for the country or its actions/politics. 

Following the dissolution of the USSR, the hypercapitalist state of the former Eastern Bloc meant that anything and everything was up for sale, including people and machines. One enterprising locomotive used his newfound wealth to create a formidable trade union/gang that covers most of the former USSR to this day. This organization is the primary driver of locomotive rights laws in the former Soviet Bloc, but it should be noted that a lot of the pushback against locomotive rights comes from politicians trying to shut them down specifically. 

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Japan is... weird. Locomotives have been fully adopted into their society for generations, and there was no loss or gain of rights during the Second World War, as they were already in place. Let me explain why:

Due to Japan's Shinto influence, locomotives were considered to be basically human from their inception on the island - the first law specifically related to locomotives in the world was an edict issued by the Emperor in regards to the three locomotives imported by English and European engineers for use on the upcoming Shimbashi-Yokohama railway - they were to be given the same rights as those locomotives built domestically. Since then, most Japanese laws have included locomotives by default, often making no mention of them unless specifically including them because of physical differences. [For example, locomotives are not required to partake in mandatory military service, as their service to the railways is often more valuable, especially during peacetime.] However, while locomotives in the West were free to work as they pleased, even off of the rail network, Japanese trains do so in remarkably smaller numbers, with over 98% of locomotives remaining in railway service until their retirement. Those that do not do so typically enter railway-related fields like locomotive construction, upper management in railway companies, or working in the Japanese Ministry of Transport.

In this sense, locomotives in Japan can be considered to be less free than their western colleagues, as the nation culture of "work until you die" meant that no attempt was made to allow trains to enter human society, forcing them to essentially be segregated from humans when not directly pulling trains, as land is too scarce to use for western-style 'locomotive cities' except in extremely rural areas and Nagasaki*.

*Following the atomic bombing of the city in 1945, Nagasaki was rebuilt by the American occupying forces - many of whom were USRA locomotives. The city’s bombed-out industrial areas were already layered with train tracks, making it easy to create a locomotive sized living area. Hiroshima, which suffered damage to its human-oriented urban core, was not rebuilt with trains in mind.

  As such, locomotives are considered full Japanese citizens, but most Japanese humans have never interacted with them. Exceptions do exist, mostly in rural towns and villages, where a locomotive is usually considered to be the town's 'honored elder', as most locomotives on small branches have lived in the area for many decades, making them the oldest member of the town in many cases. This has lead to many culture clashes in larger cities, where residents may be apathetic to the desires their locomotive neighbors, much to the dismay and shock of a 'country bumpkin' who lives nearby.

Of particular issue to locomotive freedoms are multiple units. Since the 1960s, Japanese railways have put more focus into EMUs/DMUs rather than standard locomotive hauled trains. This has caused even more segregation amongst Japan's rail population, as permanently coupled multiple units cannot access the few existing locomotive/human developments, as they were designed for standalone locomotives. Urban sprawl and high land prices have made enlarging these developments is impossible. To date, the only MU focused 'loco-city' (other than one-track sheds in rural farming communities) is in the Fukushima Daiichi exclusion area. However, as the line accessing it is in the traditional Japanese 3'6" gauge, the community remains inaccessible to the 4'8.5" gauge Shinkansen trains, many of whom are almost totally isolated from anyone else - despite living in Japan's largest cities - as a result of their loading gauge restrictions.  

Similar social isolation occurs to ships and aircraft, but as they are able to receive emotional support from friends and relatives across the planet, they do not suffer from this isolation nearly as much. 

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At no point in Italian history has anyone been able to make the right decision in regards to locomotive rights. This is not to say that Locomotive rights (and vehicular rights in general) don’t exist in Italy - they do, rather thoroughly - but rather, the Italians have never once done so intentionally, instead implementing locomotive rights by having multiple laws, written on multiple occasions over multiple decades, that are so badly written that a train could and likely was driven through the loopholes that exist in them! 

#ask response #long #locomotive rights headcanon #sentient vehicle headcanon #sentient trains #sentient vehicles #italy #japan #ussr #ww2 #belgium

[panic-at-the-fiction]

Hello Darling

Summary: (y/n) is the Salvatore younger sister and she is low key in love with with one of the originals. You know which one. That’s basically it.

Warnings: just harmless flirting

A/N: I’ve been in love with Kol Mikaelson for 3 days now. I’m being forced to watch vampire diaries with my mom and Kol and the rest of the original family are like the only reason I’m still watching it. Also I know the title isnot great but it’s what I could come up with so shut up.

It had been a long week in mystic falls. Hell, it had been a long year. You had only moved back to your hometown after hearing rumors that your beloved older brothers were alive and living in the small town you grew up in after all these years. You had been told they were shot by stray bullets during a battle in 1864 when you were only 15. It had hurt, especially since shortly after that your father had died after an animal attacked him. About 4 years after the deaths of your family, you had a run in with a vampire that didn’t go too well. After that, you spent years traveling from city to city just enjoying your life as a vampire.

When you finally landed back in your home town looking for your brothers, you were shocked to see that they had fallen in love with the same girl. Not only that, but a human girl who seemed to be attracted to trouble. You never liked Elena Gilbert and she never seemed to like you. She had a problem with making everyone do things her way or no way, and she always seemed to take it personally when someone made a decision on their own. You hated that your brothers were in love with her and did anything and everything she said. You had quite the temper like your brothers and Elena had a tendency to draw out the worst from you; when your idiot brothers signed over the deed to their house to Elena and she didn’t invite you in, you nearly burnt down the whole city. You had been stuck living in a small apartment, not far from the mystic grill ever since.

You tried to stay out of their drama-- you were only in town because you were worried about your brothers. Stephan had gone off the rails and was only just now starting to fix things. You had though found unlikely allies in Matt Donovan and Jeremy Gilbert. You spent a lot of your free time drinking at the mystic grill and for a while both boys had worked there; though you would never admit this to them, you had begun to consider them friends. Matt didn’t like getting involved in the vampire drama either, and you found it refreshing. Jeremy understood what it is like to have your siblings try to control everything you do. Sadly, Jeremy had been forced to leave town by none other than Elena, and of course your brother helped, which only made it worse. You hated that they had compelled him to leave. It was wrong to make his decision for him and they knew it.

You had gone to the mystic grill bar for a couple drinks. You had been invited to a ball hosted by the Mikaelsons. You thought it was pretentious that someone in the 21st century would host a ball, but you had missed the elegance of old fashioned parties like you used to attend before becoming a vampire.

You were busy in your own thoughts when you heard Caroline Forbes walk through the doors. She seemed upset, but to be honest, you didn’t care. You noticed she was looking at someone by the bar. You recognized him easily, Klaus Mikaelson. Caroline seemed angry at him, and efore you knew it she was yelling at him and storming out the door. Klaus quickly followed behind.

It was only then that you noticed the man who had been sitting next to Klaus. You didn’t recognize him. He saw you staring across the room at him and he gave you a flirtatious wink. You looked away and rolled your eyes.

Your glass was empty and you decided to walk over to the bar to get another drink. You sat down and waited for the bartender. The young man you saw earlier approached you.

“Hello, darling,” he said, taking the seat next to you. “I couldn’t help but notice you staring earlier. Like what you see?”

To say you didn’t find him attractive would be a lie, but you could tell he was cocky and arrogant: exactly the kind of guy you don’t want to be around right now. Yet, there was something familiar about him. “Yeah, no, I’m not playing this game with you,” You said turning away from him.

He walked around you so you were facing him again. “What game are you referring to?”

“Oh you know, the one where you see me across the room and we flirt and we drink and you use that smooth arrogant accent to talk your way into my pants. That game.”

“Why, I would never. I merely wanted to buy a lovely lady such as yourself a drink!” You laughed at his mockery as it was obvious his intentions were not pure.. “I’m Kol, Kol Mikaelson.”

“(Y/n) Salvatore.”

“Oh, you're a Salvatore. I hear our brothers don’t get along very well,” You laughed, he obviously didn’t care about the drama between your two families.

“No, they really don’t.”

“I do hope that unlike our brothers , you have no interest in killing me,”

“No, Kol Mikealson, I have no interest in killing you or being apart of any of my brothers stupid plans.” You took a swig of your drink. To be honest you were jealous of all the time your brothers put into defeating the originals and protecting Elena. They had thought you were dead for over a hundred years and they didn’t even seem to care that you moved back to town. In fact, they seemed to only think of you as a problem these days. A threat to their precious Elena’s safety. It made you furious to even think about it, hence your day drinking. You set down your glass.

“Well then, in that case, (y/n) Salvatore, why don’t you be my date this evening to my mother’s ball? It would surely piss off both our brothers,” You basically laughed in his face, but Kol just smiled and stood there.

“You want me to be your date to your moms fancy ball? You don’t even know me,” You were completely lost. An over confident guy flirting at you while you're at the bar was typical, but a thousand year old vampire you don’t know asking you to go to a ball was more than strange.

“Oh come on, (y/n), it could be fun. I’ve been told I know how to have a good time. Though, that was in 1910. I might not be as fun as I used to be, but I’m sure I will work it out.” He leaned in closer to where you were sitting. You were staring him dead in the eyes now.

“It would piss off Stefan and Damon, and I’m still mad at them for brainwashing one of my only friends in this town. Sounds like it could be fun., but let’s be clear: this is not a real date. I am simply accompanying you to your mom’s party.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a yes, then. I’ll see you tonight (y/n),” He winked and walked to the door where his brother Klaus was standing. He seemed angry, like he was mad at Kol for talking to you. What could you expect? Your brothers hated Klaus, why wouldn’t he hate his own brother talking to you? You still had a hundred questions left for the young original. You hadn’t even been sure you wanted to go to the ball, let alone with a date. There were a hundred reasons as to why you should not go, but of the few things Kol had gotten right was that it would piss off your brothers, especially Damon. Besides, it could be fun.

To be continued...

@hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo thanks for all the help on this one. You’ve been such a kind friend and theirs no one else out there like you.

Update: You can find chapter two on my blog!

#kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x (y/n) #kol x reader #kol x you #kol x (y/n) #vampire diaries #vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries fanfiction