hi i donāt exist here ever but i know thereās somewhat of an existing fan base for the great library series here???
anyway hereās glain in their loose dark shirt and black fitted pants during that one part at the brightwellās manor (no leather jacket bc I know theyāre set in like 2025 but i enjoy the absence of more modern clothing tbh)
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So weāve talked about Glainās gender a fair amount. Iāve seen a lot of discussion of Glain as nonbinary or afab and identifying as masculine.
But what if Glain was assigned maleĀ at birth? What if she identifies as female, but not in a stereotypical girly girl way? And sheās trying to work out how to be the butch girl she wants to be without being misgendered?
Back home in Wales, she needed that long hair. Without it, people mixed her up with her brothers, and even when they remembered which Wathen sibling she was, they didnāt always remember her name and pronouns. It bothered her more to hearĀ āheā than to be girly, so she grew out her hair, maybe even wore dresses, stuffed bras, whatever it took to make sure everyone knew she was a girl.
Then she gets to Alexandria, where no one remembers her asĀ āone of the Wathen brothers.ā And the High Garda, where there are plenty of butch women. Finally, Glain is in an environment where she can be the kind of girl she wants to be. She cuts her hair. She wears what she wants. She gets to be her badass self.
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Origin: Welsh
Meaning: ājewel; gem; bead.ā
Gender: feminine
Pron: GLINE
The name comes directly from the Welsh word for a jewel or decorative bead. It is born by Welsh musical artist, Glainā¦
Glain doesn't like jess' new thing with katja. She thinks katja is probably taking advantage of jess, and at worst will just give him more heartbreak to deal with
So she ends up having it out with katja
(after several unsuccessful chats/threats with jess)
Full respect to Glain, it starts civil and using actual words
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found this in my files and I kind of like it still. From back when I was giving Glain period troubles instead of/as well as Khalila. Set during P&F.
Severe mood swings of the rage variety, and several mentions of blood/clots
Rage surged in her chest like fire but she was better than that, she shoved it down and approached the problem with icy clarity. Punch here, kick here, throw weight just here against his outstretched arm. Ā
Someone pulled her back off him and started shaking her and shouting in her face.
She spat in their face and kneed them in the groin - or tried to ,theyād seen that coming.
āRight, thatās it.ā
Suddenly she was turned and slammed against the wall hard enough to drive the air out of her lungs, arms twisted up and immobilised and their full weight behind a knee digging into the back of one thigh. Breath on her ear, hot and wet.
āLieutenant Wathen, this is Captain Santi and if you donāt calm down iām going to cuff you and drag you away and you donāt - want - that.ā He gave her arms a painful jerk with the last three words. āDo you understand me?ā
āYes, sir,ā she said, almost on autopilot. Then she realised that his knee had shifted a little and was likely to be on a bloodstain, and the shuddering embarrassment made her strain against him and growl. Ā
āI donāt think you do, Wathen.ā His voice was that terrifying angry-calm. Ā
āSorry, sir.ā With an effort, she relaxed her muscles. He waited for several long moments. She tried to steady her breathing too, but culdnāt quite manage that. Still felt like a coiled spring. Ā
āLetās walk.ā He moved away from her, but kept one of her arms twisted up high. In a way she was thankful for it, it gave her something to fight against as she obediently followed where he pulled her. Ā
He pushed her into a storage room and closed the door behind them. Ā
āWhat the fuck, Glain?ā he said as soon as they were secured. Very obviously approaching her as Santi now, not the captain. She wished he wouldnāt. Protocol was easier. She stayed standing when he indicated she should sit. Ā
āSorry, sir.ā
āYou broke Travisā face.ā Santi shook his head. Suddenly the captain was back; āYou lost control out there and thatās not acceptable for someone with your physical capabilities. I need to know why.ā
Yes, sir,ā she said slowly, as her thoughts whirled. The poisons of spent adrenalin were attaching to her limbs, and worse, to her stupid volatile mind. She could stop herself from shaking, but gathering her thoughts enough to mount a coherent defense when she just wanted to cry was a different task all together. Ā
She just needed five minutes to clean herself up, change clothes, slap herself back to normal again. Figure out what to say. Even if admitting to being on her period to Santi wasnāt embarrassing in itself, she was terrified that everyone would see this as a potential instabililty.
āGlain?ā Santiās voice was suddenly concerned. āTalk to me.ā
āThis hasnāt happened before,ā she said, fast and desperate. āIt wonāt happen again, sir.ā
He raised his eyebrows.
āHow can you promise that if itās never happened before?ā Ā
āitās under control, sir,ā except just as she said that she felt a clot slide out. āPlease, sir,ā and there was panic in her voice now but she couldnāt stop it, ācan I have five minutes in a bathroom?ā
She saw something click in the captainās eyes.
āYou can have five minutes to clean up,ā he said, neutrally. Then, cautiously, as Santi again, āDo you want me to see if Zara is available?ā Ā
āNo!ā To her dim shame she actually stamped her foot like a child, but that paled under the wave of fury that swept over her. She didnāt need help. She wasnāt a baby to have soiled herself (except she had soiled herself by being unprepared) and she didnāt need any ridiculous special āgirlās only treatment.
The captain looked at her with a cool, assessing gaze.
āTake more than five minutes, Wathen. Take the day.ā
She felt like sheād been punched in theĀ gut.
āNo, sir! I donāt need it. Iām fine.ā
He took a step towards her and all the hair went up on the back of her neck. Ā
āIām not being nice to you. Iām not pandering to you, Iām not coddling you. I am, in fact, not offering you the opportunity to take the day; I am ordering you.ā His voice was perfectly calm. āIām prepared to believe that this is a one-off that you can address, but I need to be confident that I donāt have an unsecured lethal weapon wandering around my barracks.ā
Glain opened her mouth. Santi raised an eyebrow. She closed her mouth again. Ā
She wanted to believe that she would have stopped hitting Travis on her own, but she really wasnāt sure.
Because I donāt know any other type of plot impetus, itās a delicious problemĀ
So, I regularly ponder how the pack (+Dads) will settle down into not actually fearing for life their lives 24/7, post-seriesĀ
and I am fucking dying to see what Sword and Pen does with Thomasā mental health in particular,Ā
but today Iām pondering Glain.Ā
Imagine that her most prominent trauma aftereffect is hyperviligance.
itās Glain
who the fuck is going to notice that??
Glainās already incredibly vigilant and observant. Sheās already incredibly suspicious of her friends, and watching them to try and predict what theyāre going to do. (I strongly headcanon that she was watching Morgan and Wolfe just as much as she was watching Jess and Dario in Ash and Quill)
Her automatic role in the group isĀ āguardā, weāve seen it several times in the books. Whoās going to notice if she guards a door when she doesnāt have to? If she always walks at the back of the group to keep them in her sights?
Because, letās face it, a lot of it might match up too well with Santiās as-of-yet unacknowledged trauma and then everyoneās just going to shrug it off asĀ āsoldier behaviourā even more than they already might do.
Sheāll probably be living and/or sleeping alone - no-one will notice if she sleeps badly, or sets traps around the place, and quite frankly, I think all of them are going to thinkĀ āhaving nightmares every night and sleeping with a weaponā is appropriate behaviour for Quite A While.Ā
Idk, what am I even saying ... That I think it would be very, very possible for Glain to pass herself off as being only minorly not ok, as opposed to Incredibly Not Ok.
Have tried my best to sort of my insane mess of a fic pile. More than 65k of disorganised shit. Found this, which will not be the final form of the idea, I think, but is not bad. Enjoy?
Khalila was familiar with the concept of akai ito, the red string of fate tying you to your soulmate, from her enjoyment of Japanese poetry, and she swore she could feel it pulling at her hand as she walked the Library corridors in the early hours of the morning.Ā
The discussions about the future of the Library were over, or at least had been halted for the night. Nothing concrete had been decided on at such an early stage, but she was encouraged by how many high-ranking and influential Scholars seemed amenable to her words.Ā
She had visited her family, made sure they were safe and housed in a suitable standard of accommodation (apparently Wolfe had organised that, she needed to thank him), and had a wholly inadequate conversation with them which would have to be expanded upon later.Ā
Her father and brother had been very concerned about hiding their bruises and hollow cheeks from her, and sheād let them maintain their dignity while bitterly laughing inside at how much worse she had seen.Ā
She had been good and dutiful and had done what needed to be done.Ā
Now, finally, praise Allah, finally, she was able to go to Dario.Ā
According to the messages in Khalilaās hastily borrowed Codex, Glain had taken it upon herself to guard Dario during the fight, and afterwards had dragged his protesting form to the Medicas, where heād been ever since.Ā
Is he tired? Khalila had asked nervously, as soon as sheād left the rooms where her family was staying. Should I wait until tomorrow?Ā
Get down here before I have to actually tie him to the bed, Glain had replied, in short, sharp strokes.Ā
And now here she was, coming into the Medica wing and signing herself in as a visitor, following the directions to his room. Of course he had a separate room, she thought with a semi-hysterical little giggle. Theyāre lucky he didnāt ask for a whole suite and his own personal chef.Ā Ā
The corridor blurred into a twitchy smear of not-there-yet, but it was impossible to miss Glain standing outside the relevant door, in full guarding mode.Ā
Khalila pulled her into a tight hug, which Glain allowed for a few seconds before disentangling herself. There were shadows under her eyes, and Khalila swallowed a wave of guilt as she remembered Glainās issues with headaches.
āThank you,ā she said. Her voice trembled a little. āThank you for looking after him when I couldnāt.āĀ
Glain shrugged awkwardly, brushing off Khalilaās overflowing feelings.Ā
āI avoided strangling him, just for you.ā She met Khalilaās eyes and gave her a quick nod. āIāll be in the barracks quarters if you need me.āĀ
āGet some rest,ā Khalila called after her. She couldnāt see Glainās face but she could imagine the eye-rolling reaction.