#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HER FAIR HAIRED FAIRY PRISON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!

[fiendishartist2]

she wont cut me free of her vanilla curls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[roncheg]

there were some reblogs recently of my spontaneously occurred OC from ~2015 - this one, and I've realized that I don't remember a thing abt him)))) he was a sick person and his love interest was a jerk, that's all I remember.

So, i thought up a new premise for him\(*..*)/

Disclaimer! as you know, I am really bad at creating OCs -

cannot draw the same face twice (or rather I draw the same face with variations and it's never the same variations for one character^^');

am bad at creating original narratives - my brain is just a soup of all the stories I've ever read;

am bad with words even in my native language let alone English))))

with that in mind!

Once upon a time (it's a BL fairy tale, 'cause I like BL and fairy tales)) there was a king who was a tolerable ruler but not a good person. He had a young, spirited and beautiful wife, who he suffocated with jealousy; she was practically a prisoner in a palace and her only light was her walks in the palace gardens.

One evening she met an extremely handsome stranger in the gardens, one can say he looked almost... otherwordlyXD (that's because he was a faerie!) they've talked a little bit, they've met several more times, she was bored and pretty, he was bored and pretty, they've become lovers and the faerie was dumb enough to tell her his secret name (we all know of how significant true names are to fair folk, perhaps he was a very powerful magical being but not the smartest). Sometimes later the queen discovered that she was pregnant and the faerie lover promptly disappeared.

The king suspected nothing and rejoiced at the thought of a heir right till the day the queen went into labor.

First of all, there was some strange weather occurrences, a hale on a sunny day, ball lightenings everywhere etc. The king's chief wizard ('cause every king has a court wizard obviously) was very concerned.

The labor was long and excruciating for the queen. When a baby prince was finally born, it was immediately obvious that he is not a king's son – he didn't have a tail or horns, but he had a full head of pale blond hair and pink eyes without pupils (he was not actually blind just something something magic).

The king was furious he wanted to kill the baby to hide his shame, but in her dying breath the queen called the secret name of her lover and summoned him! With the power of a secret name she made him swear that he will protect their child. The faerie lover reluctantly obeyed. He put a spell/curse on the baby prince and the king one-sidedly tying their lives and well-beings together – if the child was hurt, the king would be hurt in equal measure.

So, the queen sadly died from blood loss, the faerie lover fucked off to a faerie land forever, and the king was left with the hated hybrid infant.

Of course, there was no way the king would let the story of his unfaithful wife to leak outside the room or to let the queen's bastard to inherit his throne.

The official public version of those events was classical fairy tale-like – everyone was so happy when a little prince was born but then a bad witch with a grudge appeared out of nowhere, killed the queen, her servants and midwives and cursed the prince with some scary and unmentionable curse. So little one sadly would live the rest of his long long life in royal comfort, exiled to a tower on an island in the middle of the river.

Only the court wizard knew the truth, he also suggested to put a pair of heavy magic suppressing earrings on the baby (it was men's fashion in this kingdom anyway because i really like to draw men with earrings and long hair).

To be the cursed prince's servant was a life sentence, so the little one grew up almost without human company, among resentful and unhappy people whose families the king was holding hostage and who was definitely scared of him.

The prince was a half-magical hybrid after all, he started to talk and walk too early, was eerie looking and something was a little bit off around him – lights flickered, too much static electricity near the boy, and sometimes the time around him as if slowed.

He was taught to read and write, and was provided with books so he won't go mad (the court wizard suggestion again – who by this point was afraid that the king would go mad too in this case due to the curse).

There was that one maid who took pity in a young orphan's situation and was nice to him, teaching him to cook and bake. One day in the tower's kitchen he burned his finger a little while helping her – the king's finger immediately got a blister too and the maid was dragged outside the tower and executed before the young prince's eyes (emotions were not transferable via the faerie's curse, only physical effects).

After that the boy distanced himself from people for good.

20 years passed, and we are meeting the prince's future love interest (let’s call him LI, I don’t want to name them I’d forget abt them in a couple of weeks)) for the first time:

He is a sole offspring of a prominent, but declining noble family – old money aristocracy, kingmakers and all that; enough to evoke some kind of distrust from the aging paranoid king (who has no official heir still – have had several wives since the first one, but no children happened).

The LI had too many expectations foisted on him and too little emotional support growing up, so he is cold-hearted, calculating (I don’t think he is as smart as he thinks he is though), career oriented young man and his sole weakness is his horse (I was thinking – what kind of weaknesses those type of heroes could have? It’s either a frail aging mother, a frail little sister or a precious pet. I really don’t want to involve more poor women as plot devices for this story, so the precious horse it is. It’s a beautiful horse. Golden mane, dark coat, fiery eyes. Not talking, not magic, just a horse))).

The LI makes some kind of transgression while scheming at court and the king was waiting for this opening to topple the LI’s family (for whatever reason the king cannot just kill them all – maybe they still have enough sway over other nobles? Who cares)))

So the king sends the LI to the prince’s tower as a “guard”/”personal servant” – an honour post officially, an exile in reality. If the LI behaves – his family and possessions (and the horse!) will be alright, if the family behaves – their only heir stays alive. Not a hair should be touched on the prince’s head - threatens the king.

The LI would gladly fuck off and leave his family to rot, but The Horse is held as a hostage in king’s stables too. So he behaves.

He has no intentions to befriend the prince, he is just too insignificant in his eyes, but shortly after the LI came to the tower, the prince falls ill (just a cold, and there is a clever explanation for it! My biologist brain relishes in it – the prince grew up in almost isolation, right? He is half-magical, but it is suppressed by anti-magic earrings, so he is mostly human. His immune system is severely undertrained to meet outside world’s germs! The FLI brought with him all sorts of microorganisms – therefore, an appropriate incubation period later – voila! the cold\(*_*)/

So the prince is sick and the LI reluctantly cares for him, too afraid that something would happen to his horse if the king finds out (the king of course is sick too, but he doesn’t link it with the prince – it’s just a cold anyway).

The prince who is starved for a human connection takes any form of care for affection, and falls in love! The LI is more interested in his own problems and doesn’t notice, doesn’t care.

But they do spend more time with each other (the prince is well-read and curious of the outside, the LI is bored out of his mind and there is no one else to talk to, is he supposed to talk to the servants (sic!)?! (he is an asshole; I don’t like him).

But the LI notices those small instances of magic around the prince, which happen more and more with passing of time, especially when the prince is distracted or emotionally charged in any way (the prince is often emotionally charged around the FLI;). Can the LI use the prince to his advantage after all? - he decides to get closer to the prince. He even tells the prince about The Horse.

The evidence of the prince’s magical nature grows - he starts to have visions (of the past, and present, not the future) while touching things – small stuffs at first then more and more vivid. It’s not under his control at all. He tells his trusted LI everything by this point. He’s even told him the biggest secret – that his health and life is linked to the king’s. The LI is ecstatic with this knowledge – he has huge leverage on the king in his hands!! He does nothing for a moment, bidding his time.

One day a big thunderstorm comes. Startled (idk for real or for coy reasons) prince grabs at the LI’s hand – and sees an extremely detailed vision of the LI’s horse dying horribly. (It’s the kings fault in some way – maybe there was a dangerous hunt? Was it neglect? Something happened)

Sobbing, he tells the LI. The LI grieving and furious wants to hurt the king in any way he can – and the person who’s linked to his enemy is right there.

He rips off those long heavy earrings, tearing the prince’s ears, the prince cries in agony, thunder crashes outside, lightning flashing and all of the prince’s magic suppressed for years rushes through him like a flood.

After that there are several possible endings:

the prince is omniscient now – he understands that the LI was planning on using him to get to the king – betrayed and resentful, he kills the LI, kills the king, tears through the kingdom in a mad fury and goes somewhere to lick his wounds. Maybe he becomes the monster in some faraway forest, maybe he becomes a humble if magical fisherman, his carrier possibilities are endless;

the prince goes mad from all of this sudden magic he self-combusts, taking all of the tower and surrounding lands with him, this place becomes a huge cursed lake, eventually a very cursed bog;

the prince goes mad from all of this sudden magic, the LI kills him in self-defense, which in turn kills the king, the LI becomes the next one and lives long and unhappy life;

if the LI had just a little bit of genuine affection for the prince – he helps the prince to overcome this magical catharsis, they take revenge on the king with those newfound powers and fuck off into the sunset to work through their differencies as a couple – but this ending is too fairy-tale-y even for me, who loves happy endings in books more than anything.

[littlemessyjessi]

“Mother Nature”: Baron Helmut Zemo Imagine: Plus Size

A Helmut Zemo Imagine Commissioned by: She chose to remain anon so I won't tag her but thank you love for your commission! Much love! Notes from cx:  "Can you use your oc Jessi for this please? Can we have cottagecore vibes? Can we have an animal mama? Can we have a cool power and some backstory?" Note from myself: Yes, bebe, of course you can have anything you want! -----------  

The tension in the jet could be cut with a knife as the three males resided there.

Sam was caught between irritation at Bucky... in general and due to the fact that he would do nothing but glower at Zemo.

And also by the subject of his glowering himself.

He didn't like the situation in any way, shape or form.

But after coming to the resolution that he was more help to them out of prison that he was in... the both of them had agreed to 'let' him stay.

Even when all of them knew that if and when Zemo was ready to flee... he'd just do it.

"So this woman?" Zemo spoke up.  "Why is it that we must collect her?"

"Collect her?" Sam laughed. "What the fuck, man? She's a woman.  Not a pokemon card."

"We need her." Bucky said shortly.  

"Yeah, we need her." Sam laughed. "What I'm not looking forward to is the ass whoopin that she's undoubtedly gonna dish out when she sees us.  What was it she told you the last time she saw us?"

"Shut up, Sam."

"Oh, yeah.  Something about, 'If I ever see your wish brand Terminator looking ass -"

"Shut. up. Sam."  Bucky snapped.

"Then I'll rip that Transformer's reject arm off and shove it up your ass."  Sam continued through his laughter.

"I think I may like this woman." Zemo said sipping his champagne with a smirk.

Bucky just glowered out the window and Sam looked thoroughly pleased with himself with the torment he'd managed to provide Bucky in only a few short sentences.

"If I may.." Zemo started only to recieve a menacing glare from Bucky.  "If she dislikes you so much what makes you think she'll be willing to help us?"

"Because Jess is easy to bribe." Sam said. "And you're going front the bill for it."

Zemo lifted his eyebrows, "Ah, I thought it would be more interesting.   What's her price?"

"Probably some exotic plant that no one has ever fucking heard of and is impossible to get." Bucky sighed, running a hand down his face.  "She'll let you know."

"If she doesn't shoot us before we get off the jet." Sam pointed out.

Sam wasn't scared of a lot but Jess McCarty was definitely on that list.

Even if he did find her highly entertaining.

"Oh and she hates Sharon." Bucky said staring our the window again. "So don't bring her up."

"I'm not ignorant enough to bring up another woman." Zemo said. "I was married, you know."

He had been teasing but none of them said anything else.

They weren't exactly on the best terms but even still they wouldn't bring up conversation relating to his late family.

Eventually, they landed in large field with a beautiful mountain landscape decorating the distance.

Helmut could distinctly see a large white truck in the distance.

"So much for easing into the situation." Sam said.  "I see she still has Leroy."

"Leroy?" Zemo asked.

"Her truck." Bucky clarified. "Don't ask and don't bring up the bullet holes."

Sam snorted, "Yeah, I think she still owes you a few shots over that."

"Fuck off."

Zemo rolled his eyes at the two of them.

Even after all this time and how much he had become accustomed to their bickering ... it still both amused and annoyed him.

As the three of them descended the stairs of the jet, the slam of a door was heard in the distance.

A woman stepped out and leaned against the grill of the truck, blankly staring them all down.

She was tall, that much Zemo could tell even from a distance, with neck length dark hair that sprung from her head in a wild dark halo.

They'd managed to get about half way to her when she whistled and several dogs bounded from the bed of her truck.

"Fuck." Bucky whispered. "She brought the fucking dogs."

"You better run,"white wolf"." Sam said with a chuckle.

Half amused and half concerned.

"We." he responded. "I'm not the only one here."

"You state your fucking business, Barnes. Before I let them tear you part."

A smirk worked it's way onto Zemo's face as her venomous southern drawl that seemed to contrast so much to her appearance.

She was the picture of lovely.

She looked more like a fairy belonging to a magical woodland than someone associated with the Avengers.

Like a tall, curvaceous Elven queen.

"We need your help and we brought an ATM who has connections." Sam said trying to ease the tension.

She didn't seem impressed.

"I'm not asking again, Barnes.  You got three seconds before I sick the hounds on you.  And they're hungry. We've been into town passed the diner where they're having a fish fry.  My babies are just dying for a snack.  And if you even think about laying one hand on them, I'm turning that fucking arm of yours into a coat rack." she spat.

"God dammit, Jess.  I told you we need your help.  It's a mission and you're the only one who can-" Bucky started before she snapped her fingers and the dogs charged at him. "Shit!"

Realistically, Bucky could've ended those dogs in seconds but if he did, A.) she'd never help them, and B.)  she'd make him suffer for it.

Buck let out some kind of strangled cry as he took off away from the dogs chasing after him.

Zemo, no stranger to the military and the dogs associated with it, noted that none of them actually looked as if they were going to harm him but rather just enjoying the chase.

Bucky didn't need to know that though.

"How long are you gonna let them chase him?" Sam chuckled as he and Zemo finally made their way closer to where she stood leaning against the truck.

Jess shrugged, "So what is it exactly that you need?"

"We just need your help with a mission." Sam said.  "We can talk about the details later if you decide not to kill us."

She scoffed, "I'm not going to kill you, Sam.  But I might maim Barnes a little.  Enough to make me feel better."

She finally turned her eyes on Zemo who gave her a small smile.

"So you're the ATM?" she asked with lifted brows. "Do you have a name? Bank of..."

"This is Zemo." Sam said.  "He's a Baron and he's loaded."

"Zemo." she nodded, dark brows drawing together.

"Please call me Helmut." he said producing a hand.

She took it firmly as she stared at him.

"Zemo..." she said almost tasting the word in her mouth.  "That is so familiar."

Sam sighed, "Yes, it's that Zemo, Jess.  And I know what you're thinking-"

"You have no idea what I'm thinking." she snapped, her eyes wretching themselves away from Helmut's soft dark eyes to meet Sam's endless pools.

"Jess.."

"No, you were not there and you do not know." she said as her skin and hair began to change color as her temper rose.

It was then that Helmut recognized just exactly who she was.

"You were there." he said. "In Sokovia."

Her eyes connected with his.

"Yes, I was." she said.  "I was with the Avengers when we faced Ultron."

"You're the one that stayed." he said.

"Yes." she whispered.

"You are a hero among my people." he said. "Those of us that are left."

"I am no hero." she said turning away from him and whistling for the dogs who had chased Bucky up an old flagpole and were barking at him.

"There would be many more Sokovians dead if you had not stayed. We were not a large people to begin with and there are even fewer now.  I know several who owe you their lives." Helmut said.

"They owe me nothing." she said. "And for the record, of course, I do not support the bombing but I also understand what it is like to be ridden with grief and confusion and anger when you have lost loved ones.  Especially as someone who had lost their own children."

Helmut's eyes softened as he thought of his late wife and child and it was then that he recognized the same tendrils of heartbreak in the woman's eyes.

"For what it's worth, I destroyed my fair share of places in my grief." she said. "People will remind us of our faults as long as we live but what they say can never compare to the torture we inflict on ourselves."

Helmut said nothing, only nodded in understanding.

She turned to Sam with a sigh, "I will help you.  But I am going to kick Barnes' ass for good measure."

"You sure you wanna go toe to toe with the Winter Soldier?" he teased her.

She lifted a brow, "He is just a man.  A soldier.  Like the both of you and I can assure that I am not scared of any of you."

"Well, he's not exactly..." Helmut said.

"Yes he is.  He lives, he breathes, he bleeds." she cut him off.  "And he shot my truck and kicked me off a building.  So I atleast owe him a kick in the nuts."

Sam and Helmut dissolved into a fit of laughter as she whistled again and the pack of dogs came running before bounding into the bed of that beat up white truck.

She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

"Do you have a way to follow me? Other than by jet?" she asked through the open window. "Or do I need to drop the hounds off and come back?"

"It's already taken care of." Helmut said gesturing behind to the jet where Oeznik was pulling driving the car off the jet.

"Nice car." Jess said.  "I still prefer Leroy though."

"Definitely a beauty." Helmut said. "A little rough around the edges but all wild things are."

Helmut gave her a soft smile to which she returned before speeding off.

"What the fuck was that?" Sam asked.

"What was what?" Helmut asked.

"You flirtin with her?" Sam said.  "She will eat you for breakfast, man.  And then shit you out and use you to fertilize her little poison garden.  Don't go down that road."

"What road?"

Bucky had rejoined the conversation.

"Man, you run like a bitch." Sam laughed.

Bucky just stared at Sam in irritation.  

"You couldn't even fight off a pack of dogs?" Sam teased. "One of them was a Yorkie, Buck."

"First of all, I told you that you can't call me that." Bucky said.  "Second of all, if I so much as look at one of those dogs the wrong way you know she'll launch a missile at us."

Sam just snickered.

"Apparently, you have a 'kick to the nuts' coming your way." Helmut said and Bucky groaned.

"She is never going to forgive me." he said.  

"Why exactly did you shoot her property and kick her off a building?" Helmut asked as they piled into the car.

There was a brief argument about the seat being moved up before Bucky answered.

"Look, the truck was an accident." he said.  "It was just caught in the crossfire.   And I only kicked her off the building because she was nearly insane."

"Weak logic, man." Sam laughed.

"You were there, asshole!"

"You could've tackled her to the ground."

"While she was trying to choke me to death with vines?"

Sam just laughed at Bucky's predicament while Helmut continued to ponder this woman.

He remembered what little footage there was of her.

After the battle with Ultron, Sokovia had been decemated and the Avengers had left them in the rubble.

In reality, they had tried to evacuate as many as possible.

With the help of Sokovia's own, The Maximoff Twins.

But when it was all said and done, Sokovia was left in the rubble and Earth's defenders just deserted them.

All but the one.

He'd seen the footage.

Shaky cellphone videos of the woman who transformed into animals to move the debris crushing people to death.

Or of how she was in the tents with the small group of survivors using her powers with plants to heal as many as she could.

She'd even tried to plant things and bring the country back to life before the government had basically laid waste to her work.

She'd been most popularly dubbed as Mother Nature by people across the globe but she never spoke in public or confirmed her name.

Helmut got the feeling that she didn't exactly like being apart of the Avengers and certainly did not enjoy the attention that went along with it.

He knew then that it had to have been her that cleared the bodies of his father, wife and son for when he found them among the dead that had been intricately encased in vines with flowers decorating them in the most beautiful way.

When he'd asked about it, he only been told that Mother Nature had stayed to help them.

He hadn't understood that at the time.

After the loss, all he could think of was revenged as grief consumed him.

By that time, she had long since left the Avengers and wasn't on his radar.

He'd never put two and two together.

Helmut drove for the longest time, the lamborghini speeding along the road as they followed the beat up white truck.

The pack of dogs all happily placed in the back, tongues flopping in the wind and tails wagging.

The further they trekked the wilder the country became and soon the hot rays of sunshine only beamed through the thick cover of vegetation above them.

The light through the leaves creating a green glow.

"I feel like Welcome to the Jungle should be playing right about now." Sam commented.

The finally broke through the tunnel of vegetation into a large property of rolling green field smattered with wildflowers and towering trees.

Garden beds and greenhouses were in the distances and horses could be seen grazing freely as chickens clucked around them.

Helmut noted that there were no fences, no pins, no coops for the chickens but instead all he wild life seemed to roam freely.

"Just forewarning you, there's probably a bear or moose around here somewhere." Bucky said. "But don't shoot it or we're dead."

"A bear?" Helmut asked. "She keeps bears as pets?"

"Don't call the animals her pets." Sam said with a smirk, "It pisses her off and as much as I would just love to see you get shot, it's not very practical at the moment."

Eventually they came to a stop behind the truck.

The pack of dogs all bounded out and took off in the direction of several little goats who seemed more than happy to play with them.

Helmut took in the home in front of him.

It was a beautiful home.

Simple in design but stunning in the sense that it seemed to be built around a tree.

"Come inside and have some tea." Jess said. "I'm going to need some if I'm going to listen to whatever utter bullshit you've gotten yourself into this time."

"Uh uh." Sam said with a shake of his head. "That is a lion. I am not going up there."

Jess narrowed her eyes at Sam as Helmut and Bucky looked around for what he was talking about.

Sure enough on the level there was a small balcony where the railing was absolutely littered with cats and a rather large mountain lion was sitting there watching them all with it's great luminous eyes.

"She's pregnant.  Relax." Jess said ascending the steps, gently smiling at Helmut when he followed her without reservation.

"Like that's supposed to instill confidence." Sam said. "You ever been around a pregnant female? Hell no."

"I have been a pregnant female, Wilson.  And I also very clearly remember the labor pain of having twins.  So watch your mouth and come on. If she wanted to eat you she would've already done it. Though if you're so scared, just feed her Barnes.  That should tide her over for a while." she said disappearing into the house with a chuckling Helmut behind her.

"This is your fault." Sam said shoving Bucky who only shoved him back.

"Shut up, Sam." he said before they continued up the stairs with Sam moving a little quicker as the cluster of felines watched him.  

"I hate cats, man." he sad.  "Fucking creepy."

Bucky snorted.

"What?"

"Nothin."

"What?"

"Just fitting that the bird is scared of a little kitty." Bucky teased.

Sam lifted his brows, "First of all, that was not a kitten.  That was full on Lion King back there.  And second of all, have you never seen Looney Toons.  I'm not trying to be Tweety bird."

"Stop being a pussy and come on." Jess' voice rang out. "And shut the damn door. You're letting all the cool air out."

Sam and Bucky grumbled at each other before making their way into the kitchen to see Helmut sitting at the table already happily sipping a cup of tea.

"This is exquisite." Helmut complimented her. "What is it?"

"It's peach and apricot." she said pouring both Sam and Bucky a cup and leveling them both with a look that told them if they didn't drink it she'd strangle them.

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Helmut said.

"It was my daughters' favorites.   Flora loved peaches and Fauna loved apricots. So to please them both my husband used to blend them together for their little tea parties. Along with little pieces of toast and jam."

She smiled into her own cup of tea but there was a sadness there that he recognized.

He chose not to remark on it and instead studied her features as Sam relayed the information as to why they were actually there in the first place.

"I've seen the Walker guy." she said. "It's unsettling to say the least.  But you know I do the limelight, boys.  I walked away from all of that when it became obvious that-"

"Jess." Bucky said. "Please. You don't have to talk to anyone. You don't have to-"

"People died.  And not just in Sokovia.  Yes, that was the final straw for me but it was happening long before that. I understand that 'earth's greatest heroes' or whatever are there to defend everyone.  But no one ever stays around to see the carnage.   No one talks about everyone who dies in the crossfire.  I joined the avengers out of revenge.  I was fueled by my anger and pain and I went on missions.   How many have I ended up inadvertantly killing under this ruse of 'for the greater good'.  I loved Steve to death but he took that shit to his heart and forgot to use his eyes." she said. "While everyone else is busy looking at the 'bigger picture' all of these other people who perhaps you don't know the names of are dying horrible deaths, boys.   I pulled people from wreckage who had moment to live.  People who's organs were crushed into nothing and they were rushing to give me messages to pass along to their families.  Those people are the heroes and no one ever knows it."

The subject of Steve was a sensitive one for everyone but she had a point and they knew it.

She sighed as she looked down into her teacup again, "I will help you regarding John Walker.  But I'm not blindly following orders anymore.   I make my own decisions and when I'm done, I'm done and I don't want to hear anything about it when I go."

The three of them nodded even though she wasn't asking for permission.

"You want some more tea, love?" she asked Helmut who's heart fluttered a bit at the soft term of endearment.

"Please." he said watching as she methodically poured him another cup.

"I can not leave immediately." she said. "I have to take care of a few things first. But you are welcome to stay here if you wish."

"And if you're not afraid of the cat." she said, aiming it at Sam. "Tweety bird."

"I hate you." he said flatly and she only laughed.

"Her name is Cleopatra by the way. Or Cleo for short. And if you give her a can of tuna from that cabinet there then she'll be putty in your hands.  If you rub her belly then she'll love you forever." she said.  "She also seems to enjoy listening to Elvis Presley and laying in the sunlight.  If that should interest any of you."

"Thanks, Jess." Bucky said sincerely.

"You're welcome." she said. "But I still owe you a beating."

He sighed, "Fair enough."

She left the table and meandered out onto the lower porch to stay at the horizon.

Sam and Bucky said nothing as Helmut followed her out there.

"Thank you." he said as he stared off in the distance as well.

"For what?" she asked. "The tea? You're welcome, dear.  It was nothing."

"No." he said turning to look at her. "For what you did for the bodies.  My father, wife and son were among the ones you uncovered.   They told me it was Mother Nature.  I never put it together but now I see."

She said nothing.

"I did it because it was what I would've liked for my own family." she said.  "I'm just sorry I couldn't do it for everyone.  I tried but there were so many that needed healing.  I didn't have ti-"

"The people of Sokovia know that." he cut her off.  "But as a son, a husband and a father, I'm thanking you for myself and also for everyone else."

She said nothing as they stared out at the trees.

"What happened to your family?" he asked her.

He knew, from first experience, how painful it was to talk about something like but he wanted to know.

"There was a bombing." she said. "My husband and I had taken my daughters to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit.   It was so wrapped up that day that it was nearly impossible to get food there.  So we called in some food a couple of miles away at one of the girls' favorite resteraunts.  He'd told me to go and get it and that they'd meet me by the water fountains and we'd have lunch.   I was stuck in traffic for a good hour coming back  when it hit.  They'd called in an air strike because it was confirmed that an extremely dangerous  terrorist was there.  He'd been on the run for nearly a year from a foreign government and when it was confirmed what he had on him, I guess they decided it would be better to blow everyone there off the place of the planet that risk him setting it off and possibly destroying the world.  I saw it hit, saw everything go up in flames before it the whole of everything just crashed into the ground.  Like the whole word swallowed it whole." she said, voice shaking.

Helmut watched with rapt attention as she struggled to continue.

"I just jumped out of the car immediately and took off.  Police were swarming and I got thrown this way and that but I got loose.  My family was in there.  My husband.  My children.  I dove head first into the crater not even thinking about self preservation or logic at all.  There were no survivors of course but I didn't care.   A mother can't just walk away like that.  Or atleast I couldn't.  I should've died on impact based on the fall but I didn't.  About half way down gas released and I can just remember the burning.  My skin felt like it was melting off.  I was still falling through the air and my skin was searing hot, burning every nerve ending I had.  And then I hit.   When I woke up, I wasn't there anymore but I panicked because I was covered in vines.  Wrapped up like a mummy in vegetation." she said, a dark chuckle coloring her tone.

Helmut shivered as a chill ran down his spine.

"The local authorities pulled me out when everything had been cleared and they began to sort through the wreckage.  I'd been turned over to American government when they discovered my ID in my back pocket.  They told me that it took forever for the police to get in because vines kept growing from everything I touched.  Several of them were strangled to death as I lay down there unconscious.  I was deemed dangerous and therefore put it a high security area.   I was told a version of what happened that day and propositioned to join the Avengers.  I was angry and grieving and I wanted to find out who murdered my children, my husband... so I accepted without hesistation. So when I tell you that I understand how you got to the point that you did... trust me.  I get it."

Helmut said nothing as he reached out to take her hand.

"Perhaps, you and I are not so different." he said.

"Probably a lot more similiar than you think." she chuckled.

"Though I am not a goddess." he said with a small smirk.

"I'm no goddess." she said.

"Ah no?" he asked. "Not Mother Nature then?"

"Sure you can call me mother nature...of the current year where I've been poisoned by the human race and am genuinely fed up with life in general.  Maybe Mother Nature's trailer trash cousin, Global Warming." she said and Helmut laughed at her in disbelief. "I can say trailer trash cause I am trailer trash."

Helmut shook his head in amusement.

He wasn't sure of anything in that moment but he was thankful for it and he hoped that perhaps his family was somewhere looking down on him.

He silently thanked them for allowing him to meet the one person who had stayed.

Mother Nature always found a way.

----- Hello my loves! I hope you enjoy this! This piece was commissioned by a lovely lady who chose to remain anon!  If you have a commission that you'd like done just reach out and I'll answer any questions you have!  Thank you so much for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts!

All my love, Kenny -----

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——-

Also, just a reminder that I am open for commissions!

Additionally, the only tag list I have is my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added all you have to do is just go to the ask box and request to be added! It’s that simple and you’re in!

I love you all!

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Red Well (Part 3) Hearts and Minds

This is it folks! The MC is EMPOWERED! @rurifangirl

The smoke of liquid nitrogen was gone and people finally saw the true appearance of the holy skeleton. It looked like a crippled embryo. Its swollen head had a large single eye. What looked like a tail was actually a flesh-wrapped spine. Its ribs protrude outside the flesh layer, so it must have used these sharp ribs to insert into the host's spine and manipulate the body when it was parasitic. The holy skeleton did not die under the blade of Gathering Clouds. It twisted and made a "hissing" sound. The golden eyes flash at you, but in the glass capture chamber it could not touch any host that could be parasitized. Without the power of a body it was so weak it couldn’t escape through glass.

King General used a strong flashlight and peered through the outer layer of flesh of the skeleton. Inside the half-developed organs were faintly visible.

You could still feel yourself shaking, not only in fear of this thing and its hunger for you, but in fear of Ruri Kazama who was even stronger. Now you finally understood why Ruri Kazama offered to take you here, rob Herzog of the fetal blood and give it to you. It wasn’t just about saving your life. When you stared into his swirling pupils of red and gold, you finally grasped that this was about more than just survival. He wouldn’t stop at Herzog and Chisei. 

World Domination.

With you.

You have a nightmare vision of this unstoppable hybrid, killing everyone you know, piling them up like hay. Z understood his true nature. He warned you several times and each time you felt you had a reason to ignore him. His last words were “This one’s on you.”

You thought you were smart, strong, and quick enough to change and control your situation. But you were nothing compared to Ruri Kazama. Nothing!

There was only one way to free yourself...

"Look at it, how beautiful it is! What a perfect way to evolve! Before it was executed by the Black King, it actively evolved to live in parasitic form! It perpetuated its existence in this way!" The king pressed his hands on the capture pod and glorified the ugly parasite.

"Ah Excuse me!.” A voice from somewhere in this massive cave spoke up.  “..if the god is a parasite ...... then how does it help us evolve?'' 

 "It's not enough to find a parasite, you also have to find a host and food for it." The King smiled, "Only a very few hosts in this world can be parasitized by the god, such as Izanagi and Susanoo, but unfortunately the ancient descendants did not understand the great meaning of this parasitism and killed the god before it completely evolved into the new white king. It is not the god in this form that can give us the path of evolution, but the White King after the evolution is complete! We will see the new king ascend the throne and open a new chapter in the world!''

Pillars of light descended from the sky, enveloping you, the King General and Ruri Kazama in them. The helicopter's rotor blades cut through the rain curtain, a loud roar echoing through the well. It was a black helicopter with the cabin door open, and Gen Chisei sitting in the cabin, his long black trench coat whipping and flying.

At the last moment, Hydra arrived on the scene.

 Ruri Kazama, who had been silent, seemed to wake up from a deep sleep. His eyes lit up, and golden mandala-like patterns seemed to turn under them. He slowly lifted his head and looked up at the black shadow that had fallen from the sky, the gale blowing away the fringes of his Kimono to reveal his ribbed chest.

"Brother! Brother! You've come to see me? Are you here for my graduation?" He laughed wildly in the wind.

"Or have you come for my enthronement ceremony?" His smile tightened into a malicious grimace, leaving only biting ferocity, "With your blood to stain my vestments with your sacrificial red?"

Just like that, Ruri seemed to have forgotten about you. But he already told you what to do. 

Hide.

The ancient and stern language descended from the sky, just like the language of God echoing in the sky. The field of “Majesty" enveloped the Red Well, and tens of thousands of stainless steel wall panels fell off the well walls, pressing the king's wrath on everyone's head. The rules of gravity were forcibly changed. Everyone felt ten times their weight on their bones. 

You flee. You flee like you fled the soldiers in Black Swan Bay. The huge metal plates smashed down on the helpless Devil Clan elites. But you were not affected and you had the Sword of the Gathering Clouds to aid you. The super sharp master blade cut through the thick steal plates like paper as you headed for the safety cabins. You didn’t understand why you were spared Majesty’s influence. Was this payback for rescuing Sakura on the Tokyo Tower? Or did Chisei understand that you weren't exactly a willing participant in all this?

All around you the moans of the members of the Devil Clan were echoing. They were like souls trapped in hell.  You pause in your flight.

A young man had managed to grab your heel. His tears were pooling under his eyes. They were tears mixed with blood. His jaw looked distorted and broken. His chest was whistling with blood. He couldn’t have been older than you were, but he struggled.  “Help… me…”

Before you could answer a massive shadow loomed over you and a steel plate came down and smashed through his neck like a guillotine, sending his head flying clear off the platform into the well below.

This wasn’t fair. These were people. They didn’t know Herzog was bad any more than you did as a Black Swan Bay orphan. Again, your mind superimposes Black Swan Bay onto the Red Well. If Herzog had taken you to the capitol as promised, wouldn’t he still be your beloved father? Would he not have infected you with his distorted visions of evolution? These people were just trying to survive! They were all that was left of the Devil Clan. Everyone else was in prison!

What was the difference between them and you? They were just like you! They were being slaughtered like animals and they were just like you!

The Red Well suddenly echoed with a mighty roar that came from your wide open throat. It was plaintive and piercing like the cry of a lonely wolf or a mourning mother over her fallen child. It was full of sorrow but also fierce frustration that this shit keeps happening and you want it to fucking stop! Your throat stretched and rattled painfully. If you could stop the world with your voice, you would roar until your voice gave out!

Your eyes explode into a kaleidoscope pattern of black red and gold as the blood in your body finally takes full hold. Ruri’s blood has replaced your own. That blood was yours now and all the power that came with it!

Ruri was laughing wildly from somewhere in the cave. “Do you hear that brother! It’s just as it’s written! A rib was taken from a man and from it was formed into a woman! See! I can quote fairy tales too!”

Your hands seize a firm hold of Gathering Clouds and you spin and a dazzling horizontal arc! The secret of this mighty sword is that it could control the wind. One of the first emperor hybrids wielded it to push a wildfire set by his enemies back into them, burning them to ash. In this case, the sword produced a wind so powerful it knocked back all the massive steel plates. Even though they were heavy in normal gravity and ten times heavier under the influence of Majesty, this dragon-tail sword blew those plates away like they weighed no more than feathers! They scattered like dandelion tufts blown by a child!

There was nothing in your mind other than stopping this mindless slaughter. You didn’t care about the Devil Clan versus Hydra. In this matter, you had to agree with Ruri Kazama. There were no good guys versus bad guys. There were good guys in Hydra like Sakura Yabuki and there were good people in the Devil Clan, like Chime and Chance. The only evil that led both astray were Herzog and Bondarev. They should be turning those weapons on them! 

Chisei did not come alone. The heavily armed Hydra members followed Gen Chisei out of the cabin of the helicopters. They fired at the shaft wall with grapple guns and hung high from them, but Chisei Gen fell straight down. Kazama Ruri stretched the fuchsia-red sword in the air, Chisei’s twin blades made a dazzling ray of more than ten meters long, and the three blades fought against each other. The violent sparks illuminate the faces of the estranged brothers. Chisei’s  face is indifferent like a stone carving, but Kazama Ruri’s is like a bloodthirsty evil spirit.

Around them, gunfire and explosions continued. The Hydra Elites hung in the air by their grapple guns and pulled the trigger before they had even completed their fall. A hailstorm of bullets fell from the sky. The moment Chisei jumped out of the cabin, “Majesty” was lifted, but the engineering team and gunmen of the Devil Clan were cut down and suppressed by gunfire before they could get up and dodge. The Hydra elites were not going to spare anyone in the well. They were thugs among thugs, and now, even though they dangled from ropes, they hold their weapons as still and stable as professional assassins. 

A hurricane of violence had erupted in the Well of Bones. Ruri and Chisei’s blades were like lightning, the gun battles were like thunder, and you were howling like the wind.

You ran straight towards the wall, and then straight up the wall. Your face is like the mask of Medusa and your hair quivered like black snakes. You didn’t care how fast you were running, it wasn’t fast enough! People were still dying! If this were just up to you and just about you, you probably could have killed everyone in this well much more easily. That was how you were taught in Black Swan Bay. But now you’d been infected with a new philosophy.

The righteous philosophy of Caesar Gattuso! What was right mattered more than what was efficient. Human lives were worth more than the blood of gods! Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you cut through all the weapons of the Hydra members hanging on the walls. You were just as fast as Ruri was. Hydra leaders took aim at the Devil clan only for the muzzles of their guns to fall off and a strong breeze to shake them from the wall. You were able to easily outrun the bullets that strafed after you as you cut heavy weapons to pieces and cut them from their wires so that they would fall to the maintenance platform.

The surviving Devil clan members cheered as they crawled out from cover and picked up weapons to counterattack, and they aimed at the vital parts of the Hydra assassins, giving them fatal injuries while they were hanging in the air. But then those cheers changed to fearful confusion as this whirlwind of a woman descended on them and their weapons split in half even though they never saw you cut them.. “Stop fighting! Don’t you realize who the real enemy is?!” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own. It sounds like a mix of Ruri Kazama’s voice and yours, speaking double toned, like someone possessed.

“Traitor! She’s a traitor!” Someone yelled among the Devil Clan ranks

“Kill that Devil woman!” Came shouts from the Hydra elites on the wall.

Yelling erupted from every side of the well from both the Devil Clan and the Hydra elites. You’re suddenly enveloped by a hail of bullets from both sides who now viewed you as a dangerous enemy and united to fight against you. A rueful bitter voice echoed in your head. “Well, at least they answered your question. Their real enemy is you… apparently.” A strong wind burst out and the bullets of the Hydra and the Devil Clan shot back into their faces. Dozens of men on both sides on the conflict fell dead or seriously wounded in an instant.

You put one hand over your eyes. You cackled at your own despair. You couldn’t stop yourself laughing uproariously. Your laugh rose to an insane screaming pitch as you rose above the floor of the maintenance platform on a gale of wind like some sort of evil witch. “Fine… Fine! Have it your way. Tear each other’s throats and die here with no one to mourn you!” While you felt the evil of Herzog and the justice of Gattuso, you still had little patience for idiots.

“Leave her to me! I’ll take care of the rest!” A man darted forward. You could tell by his speed and the ferociousness in his eyes that this one was different. The sword he carried glow brilliantly as though it had been superheated. But to you he was just running like a child with a toy light saber. What mattered more was that he was a leader. He had influence.

You met him, but not blade for blade so as not to smash his weapon by accident. Instead you dodged while he struck at you again and again but you were like a ghost in the air. “Tell your men to stop fighting!” You say.

“I will not let you resurrect the god!” His blade suddenly burst into flames, extending its reach and sending a wave of fire at you. The fire ignites your dress, turning the white fabric to soot and exposing your midriff. Delicate white scales sparkled on your abdomen in the rain as though you were made of diamond. The man’s eyes widened in horror as you just absorbed what should have been a devastating blow.

“The god is already resurrected.” You tell him, your voice is shaking, pleading. The rain drops run down your face in a torrent. “You don’t understand its nature. I don’t think you can control it. If you don’t work together with the Devil Clan, you’ll never-”

Now it was the senior member’s turn to laugh. “Ha! Work together? Work with the greedy people who got us into this mess in the first place?!” He pointed the sword at you. His eyes blazing gold. “You’re just a child. We’ve been fighting this war for all our lives. Our sides were determined on the day we were born and I have sworn to follow my righteous path until I die!”

“These people are your family!” You scream desperately. “Chance’s real name was Ichirou Inuyama! He was Inuyama!”

You suddenly see his whole body glow like fire and his clothes burned away. Under his combat suit he was strapped head to toe in layers of plastic explosive! He’d prepared to meet a super-Devil like you or Ruri.

He howled against the wind. “DIE! DEVIL SCUM!”

Time seemed to slow as the raging ball of flame burned his body to ash and came towards you, and the roaring gale of Gathering Clouds bubbled outward to meet it. The force of the suicide vest was so powerful, the flames licked around your body, surrounding you in fire. But eventually, just as in the legend, the wind won out. The full force of the suicide blast flew away from you. Not only that, the blast was fed and accelerated by your ferocious wind until that fire  expanded into a fireball a hundred meters wide and heated up to nearly 2,000 degrees. It engulfed men and women who had thrown away their broken guns and pulled out knives and swords. If they didn’t have knives and swords, they fought with fists, feet, and bits of debris. They didn’t even look up when the ball of fire took them over and snuffed out their lives. The massive fireball left corpses and flames and devastation in its wake. 

But you didn’t mean it. You were just defending yourself.

A loud crash interrupted you before you could panic.  You jerked your head around and saw Chisei Gen standing under a shower of burning wreckage from a helicopter that was rolling down the wall. Gen Chisei did not dodge and it was too late to warn him.

 You run forward a few steps but the whirling blade that had broken off from the wreckage already chopped into Chisei’s shoulder, crushing the man flat to the ground as the rest of the blades cut in turn. Immediately afterwards, the crumpled black fuselage hit him and slid across the ground before finally crashing into the tall steel liquid nitrogen tank. Huge amounts of liquid nitrogen poured over the wreckage of the helicopter, frost spreading along the surface of the wreckage and rising up as a thick mist.

 The fuel tanks ruptured and the fallen wreckage was ignited. Electric sparks flashed and buzzed as if a thousand suns were burning at the bottom of the well, a wave of gas forcing everyone still alive apart.  Columns of light swept across the bottom of the storage well with columns of dust, fiery air currents and flying debris blew across the area.

The Hydra and engineering teams  of the Devil Clan were still fighting. They didn't even realize that the leader of the Hydra group had been killed in action. All of them were immersed in a great sense of mission and anger. No matter what the outcome of this fight was, no one could stop anymore. Even though you had the blood, the power, and the faith in justice, you felt lost and without any hope of victory.

You’re not even sure you wanted Chime to come back any more. Maybe this is for the best that he sleeps forever with his brother.

This was not Black Swan Bay. These weren’t little children running from explosions or cold-blooded men. These were adults. These people were choosing to kill each other. Even if they were deceived, they truly believed the deception. Even if you took all their weapons and tied them all up, they would still move and crawl on the ground in an attempt to tear at each other with their teeth.

The trap that Herzog had set was not this well. The burning man was right. The trap had been set and carefully laid in their minds and cultivated from the day of their birth. Just like the trap of the suicide pills. These people had to, not only choose to live and not seek death, but also choose to let others live and not seek the death of other people.

"So sad the end, ah... the family line that stretched for thousands of years, the guardian of Japan, just ended its mission.'' Herzog stands by the burning wreckage and laments in a poetic voice, "From now on in the world, there will no longer be any such thing as Emperor.”

"But no matter," he smiled faintly again, "Emperors were outdated anyway."

Ruri was strangely silent. With his brother gone, shouldn’t he be attacking Herzog?

Herzog hoisted the carrying case in his hand, the glass capture capsule is contained in that case. He has got what he dreamed of all his life. It is time to leave this well. You huff. What a magnificent bastard. He didn’t have to do anything to kill anyone here. Everyone was happy to do it for him, yourself included.

You stare at the sword in your hand. What a poisoned pill that sword turned out to be!

At that moment, a loud heartbeat came from behind him, like a sudden booming death knell, like something returning from hell! Hands covered in white scales pierced the metal skin of the wreckage of the helicopter, and crystal clear claws snapped around the head of the King General!

The flames in the wreckage sucked in and out, getting more and more fiery, as though something huge was breathing in the cockpit. Each time it inhaled a huge amount of air from within the wreck, it exhaled a gushing fire from it.

The suitcase fell to the ground. The King kicked and struggled. Not only is the pressure on that sharp claw increasing, but the sound of breathing was taking on a threatening aura. Kazama Ruri didn't move. Those dull, soulless eyes lit up again, and he watched with interest as the claw slowly tightened. The king's mask was crumbling, blood dripping down from the cracks.

The wreckage suddenly burst apart! The few people who approached the wreckage were immediately killed by the flying flames and debris.

Out of the firelight came the dazzling white shadow, someone who could no longer be called human. He was such a beautiful and hideous creature. He possessed gnarled muscles and rippling sinews that proclaimed what power was in this incredible body. The surface of the scales of his skin were like golden-red brocade in the firelight. The skin on his back split open. Slender bones opened up. Bloody wings stretched themselves out for the first time He was drenched in blood from this wing beat but the wounds on his back healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, after which the fierce and savage back muscles bulged.

The exoskeleton-encircled face could no longer smile or frown, and the newborn Chisei breathed up into the sky with a windy roar in his throat.

He was something between an angel and a devil, a mistake that should not have been made in this world.

 "Dragon's blood! You ...... you used dragon's blood?!" The General exclaimed.

Chisei’s voice was deep and echoing. "Yes, as an emperor, I can't kill you, but as a ghost, I can surpass the limits of an emperor." He said softly, "I've been a ghost slayer all my life, yet I didn't understand until this moment why those ghosts crave for power.''

He looked up at the dark night sky, rain pattering on that hard face: "When there is already boundless darkness where you are, how can you not fly to the flame?"

You gasp. Those words. Not those words! Those are Herzog’s words! Why was Chisei quoting the words of the dying Devil Clan? You reach out your hand. And then stop.  With a slight popping sound, the skull of Herzog broke like a water pipe. He threw the King's body on the ground and lowered his emperor-like golden eyes to observe. The corpse never moved a single bit.

The King surprisingly just died. And suddenly everything made sense. You were too occupied to think about it before. Didn’t Chisei fall helplessly before Ruri Kazama just hours ago? Didn’t Chisei always save Majesty to the end of the battle as an escape plan because it rendered him as helpless as a newborn kitten? In this instance, he’d thrown it out at the beginning! But he suffered no side effects. He wanted to kill Ruri Kazama so badly that he went against his own morals and principles.

Morals and principals were so troublesome. You think to yourself bitterly. They get in the way of efficiency. 

After what you’d seen of Ruri Kazama and after what you’d seen of the god. You didn’t believe you could survive here much longer and you didn’t think Chisei would win. It was best to escape while these two musclebound idiots solved their differences. Knowing them… they’d kill each other and you never got in the way of that before, and bitterly decide not to get in the way of that again.

Since Chisei didn’t suffer any from using his Soul Skill you decide to use your own Soul Skill. You press your foot to the ground and let the spiritual roots take hold without reservation. Mental filaments spread like vines and touch every part of the Red Well until you feel like you wear it as a second skin. You needed a way out. Then you could bury this place in magma. The magma wasn’t far from here. After all, it fed the god that caused all this. You would simply return it to its place.

A strange signature, like three footsteps, catches your attention. Someone had walked up near the rim of the well close to the machinery lift platform. You can’t see anyone, but they’re there. Who could be up there?

Your heart suddenly leaps into your throat and your memory throws up the scene on Tokyo Tower of Ruri beheading and then severing the body of the King in two only for it to pop up again in a second place! The person standing up on the platform was likely the real King! This body is a fake!

“Ha!” You snarl and take the Heavenly Cloud blade and strike the ground. It summons a huge tornado that lifts you off like a rocket. You really did have wings and you were going to  pounce on this King creature like and eagle and kill him for real. 

But this man was always prepared. What would he have for you? Bombs? Hah. Deadpool? Hah! There was nothing that could save him!

When you approach the rim of the well, it’s too late that you see the fine nano-fiber mesh that surrounds it. It wraps around you like a spiderweb, and clings tight as you collide with it and push with forward momentum. The Sword of Gathering Clouds slips from your grasp and goes falling back towards the well. Immediately your upward momentum comes crashing down onto the flat land that surrounds the Red Well and you roll several feet before coming to a stop next to an armored boot. Your hands are bound, your legs are bound. The nanofibers are crushing into your skin.

You stare up into the sky and a pistol is pointed right at your forehead. Herzog’s masked face comes into view. He waggles his fingers in greeting. “Hello.”

[darkpoisonouslove]

Winx Club Season 5 Thoughts Part 1

It’s been so hard for me to make myself start this season because I know it only goes downhill from here but here I am at last. I don’t remember anything from this season and am prepared to hate the transformations (Harmonix because it’s impractical and Sirenix because it’s ugly) so let’s do this.

- I already hate the hair and I haven’t made it past the intro yet. This is promising.

- This is off to a great start. I got the wrong episode. Not by my mistake, however. Now that I found the actual first one, let’s actually do this.

5x01:

- It’s weird to see magic so publicly on Earth. At least they’re having fun. Though, I have to say that I am not a fan of the idea of them having a band. And they have unfair advantage over every other Earth band because they can do their own advertizing without having to pay a cent and it will still be better than any other band can afford since it’s magic. They should have just dropped the band.

- I am gagging over the fact that they have Roxy praise Bloom for the help but not the other Winx girls. They were all there for her and fought to protect her and tried to teach her magic. And at one point she even said she wanted to be like Stella. But now she says that only Bloom is like a big sister. Obviously a plot device to bring in Daphne since she will be resurrected this season and they have to set it up. Especially after season 4 forgot all about her. I am still gagging, though.

- You know, I could have loved the whole ecological message but I am pretty sure they are going to fuck it up anyway. Or just not take it anywhere.

- Ugh, Helia’s hair is so ugly. But at least Sky’s is as well. But what is that box Sky has? Not another engagement ring, please, for the love of everything sacred!

- Ahh, pendant. Yeah, their relationship is going so well that they will need magic to keep it in tact. Though, good luck for both of them will be to just split up and find someone that is actually good for them. Also, why doesn’t Brandon know about that? He is literally the squire and best friend of the prince.

- Poor Layla. She must be missing Nabu like crazy. Please, let her have a season to mourn and don’t shove a new love interest in her face right away. It took her a season and a half to get the first one and he was killed. She needs some fucking time!

- Love that everyone agrees that Sky’s hair is terrible. Even Bloom’s “It looks... great” sounds like a lie.

- Why is Sky going back to Red Fountain? Didn’t he finish that? God, just let them move on already. Also, he is not A Crown Prince now. He was the Crown Prince ever since he was born. He was crowned as the king of Eraklyon. Man, are they retconning everything?

- If Bloom cared so much about what he had to say, she could have asked Musa to give them a sec. I like the little Flora and Sky interaction, though. If only it could have been on a topic different than Bloom. I wish the Specialists would interact with Winx other than their girlfriends more. It would sell the friend group vibe better.

- Aww, I wish Layla wouldn’t hide her pain over Nabu. She probably doesn’t want to affect the others with it and doesn’t want them fretting over her either but this is just so sad.

- Love how Bloom doesn’t even remember Tressa. For a moment there I thought that it was her getting crowned which would have been cooler but yeah. Also, Nereus and Tritannus are almost identical. What the hell makes Nereus hot and Tritannus not? I am so annoyed I started rhyming.

- I love the idea of underwater tech!

- Lmao, gotta love how the king has already picked a favorite. And it doesn’t seem to be a recent choice either. Idk about Tritannus yet, but I don’t like this guy. I am all for him being attacked. He even reacted like an absolute asshole. He reminds me of Erendor.

- Ah, of course. Trident. We couldn’t possibly have another weapon when it comes to merfolk.

- Tbh Tressa would be the best ruler. She seems to have learned her lesson and become braver. And if she’s protecting her brother and doing all the work anyway, why not just crown her?

- Didn’t Flora tell him to wait until he is alone with Bloom? Why did he think a good moment to give her the pendant would be when Layla is visibly worried about what is going on and everyone is there with them? I wish he’d drop it and it would break.

- How the fuck can Flora tell that there is oil spilling into the ocean? The ocean is Layla’s domain and Flora has never been shown to be able to communicate with marine plant life.

- I hate how they had to show that Timmy is obviously physically weaker than Sky. It would’ve made sense for him to had built some muscle at the very least after 4-5 years in Red Fountain.

- How the hell did Tecna delete the oil? You can’t just erase matter out of existence. There should be a rule against that.

- Yeah, I was just going to say that closing the pipes is not going to work if they don’t stop the flow of oil. The pipes might explode but it will keep spilling. Seriously, this is basic logic. Nice move. Now it will be harder to stop because the spill moved underwater.

- What happened to Layla’s wings? Is the oil sticking to them and hindering their movements? You’d think she could prevent that with magic.

- This is what happens when you carelessly put something so important in your pocket. You don’t even need to be running a rescue mission. There’s a high chance that you’re gonna lose it anyway. Also, love how Bloom just left the other guy to drown and no one else went after him either.

- Layla’s awesome. She even managed to pull that guy out even though she was struggling a lot with it. I hate the fact that they forgot she taught the others a spell to breathe underwater in season 3, though. They could have used it. But of course, that would have probably rendered Harmonix unnecessary.

- Wow, they renovated the whole platform to make it eco? Why don’t they just do that with all of the oil platforms on Earth then? It’s not like it took much effort. I want to add to this that if they’d just done that (which probably would have taken a couple of days), they could have easily defeated Tritannus later because his only source of pollution in the first half of the season has been Earth. Because there is ocean pollution only on Earth, you know. They could have used that to incorporate an ecological message, except that would have taken work on their part. And also, most of the toxic substances Tritannus consumed were spilled on purpose by the Trix. So there goes a great wasted opportunity for a thematic message.

5x02:

- Here are my bad bitches. What the hell are they doing underwater, though? It’s kinda cruel to put them in a prison that forces them to use magic if they want to survive it. What happens if they tire out? They could die,

- Aaaand for some reason Bloom is the vocalist of the band even though Musa is literally the fairy of music and the only one that was initially having a contract signed.

- I hope nobody is expecting any commentary from me on the musical performances because I am telling you from now that I will be skipping absolutely all of them.

- The selkies look ridiculous. I could appreciate the idea of having small beings being powerful guardians but they will certainly not serve any greater purpose than the pixies did so this is going to be annoying at best. Also, the selkie of Earth was still there even when the fairies weren’t, right? This somehow implies that magical beings couldn’t stop the disasters that mankind causes to Earth even though the previous season said that it was the disappearance of fairies that threw the Earth into chaos.

- Aww, look at Stella and Brandon! So good when there’s no stupid drama.

- People really went cleaning the beach not just willingly but enthusiastically? That sounds a little unbelievable. I mean, they were supposed to be at a concert and that was an abrupt change.

- Correction, I wish Sky hadn’t lost the pendant so that he could have given it to her and this would have been over. Now he is going to sulk about it for ages and he is probably going to fuck up in a self-fulfilled prophecy kinda manner and I am so not here for it. Just shut up about Bloom and Sky and focus on the action, please.

- Well, Icy is now canonically a monster fucker. Even though she thought Valtor was ugly as hell in season 3 when he turned into a demon. He was uglier than Tritanus in all fairness but still. This seems inconsistent. And I hate her voice. Not to mention that she is already acting OOC when she’s not thinking about getting out even but about fucking him. Come on!

- Is the whole turning into a monster thing some sort of reverse Beauty and the Beast? That could have been interesting... but, of course, this is Winx.

- Yep, the selkies are absolutely useless.

- If the Trix don’t have powers, then how are they breathing underwater? Also, how does toxic waste restore ice and storm powers (there is some connection to darkness at least)? And if they went that route, they could have made their powers have an element of toxicity to them to make it more interesting instead of just having a guy boost their powers yet again. Honestly, the only good thing that came out of this is that Darcy and Stormy seem to be thinking more independently now which would be necessary in order for the DramaTM between the Trix later (that is just about the only thing I remember from this season).

- I wish Darcy would have used her hypnotic powers more in the previous seasons. They are so cool and would be pretty hard to deal with once you’re hit. It could have made for more interesting fights.

- If Tritannus was good, he could actually help cleanse the oceans by sucking out all toxic waste. He likes being a monster anyway.

- Okay, but the Trix know Bloom is from Earth. They should have known it was Winx from the second they felt the fairy magic in the air. That took them long enough btw.

- Of course, the monsters can also go on land even though they are mer-creatures. Makes perfect sense.

- Love how Musa and Flora are using new spells yet they look and act exactly the same way like the old ones so it is just same shit, different story. The writers are so unoriginal.

- Layla is strong! And Winx seem to be a little too strong against the Trix. Although, Believix is supposed to be really powerful anyway.

- This could have been the perfect setup for an Icy x Bloom romance. Sky lost the pendant so his relationship with Bloom is doomed and he later lost his memory so why not just break them up. Diaspro can have him if she still wants him (I don’t know why she would but anyway) and Bloom can get with Icy after Icy realizes Tritannus is not the right one for her. Everyone wins, especially, us, the audience. And it could have been a good way to show that Diaspro has reformed and she and Sky could actually be an okay couple. Or better yet, she dumps him and gets together with Bloom and Icy.

- Layla just kicked Tritanus in the face. Boy, I stan! And the underwater battle with weapons instead of magic is super cool, I love it! Wish there’d been more of that but, of course, only Layla can pull that off and we can’t spend more than a minute focusing on anyone else other than Bloom. Why didn’t Tritannus recognize Layla, though? Or did he just not care?

- Icy crying out for help? By a man? So not here for this. It is ridiculously out of character. How is he so powerful? Once again the villain is so strong it is a wonder they ever got to live long enough to get to the finale let alone defeat him.

5x03:

- Well, Winx sure are at the top of the popularity wave again despite the last time we saw them at Alfea being very different. Also, why is it the beginning of another school year yet again? Honestly, I am so sick of all of this.

- Sky is seriously annoying me with that stupid pendant and he is also the one that is fucking up their relationship with his stupid behavior. He should just focus on being a good boyfriend and do the best he can. I get it that in a world of magic superstitions probably have more merit, but he still has control over his own life and the choices he makes. He can “save” their relationship despite the omen of doom.

- Ugh, don’t tell me there will be Helia and Flora drama in this season to compensate for the lack of such in the last? Why did he only introduce Flora as his friend and not as his girlfriend? And how is he so close with the princess of Linphea? Is he from Linphea as well?

- I agree with Stella. Just when we all thought they were done, they started making even more transformations.

- I don’t think we’ve seen Daphne be anything but calm but it’s understandable when she is talking about the thing that made her a disembodied spirit. Still it feels weird to see her not believe that Bloom can handle whatever comes her way. Especially after the defeat of the Ancestral Witches. I guess that is what bugs me in this scene.

- Wow, Darcy admitted that Winx are stronger than them and neither Icy, nor Stormy protested? It’s good that they’re self-aware. It just seems a little OOC. And another power up in two consecutive episodes? Seriously? Will they ever get anything done on their own again?

- At least Sky is asking for advice. I am surprised that they are letting him interact with Flora yet again but I actually kinda like it.

- Why are they all gasping in surprise. They have been to the archive already when Bloom stole the Codex in season 2. It is the same room; they have seen it. Get over it already.

(- *sigh* I just lost my thoughts on half the episode. This season is not agreeing with me.)

- Flora was acting weird while Crystal was helping Helia. It was kind of like she was mad it was Crystal who could save him and not her and that is weird for Flora. I think she would have just been grateful he was saved.

- I suffer when the books suffer... and they did suffer a lot in this episode. Also, how come Stormy is creating life again? This still doesn’t make sense to me but compared to other things, it is more minor.

- I love Darcy’s hypnotic powers and the fact that she was using them on Stella. I think I might be starting to seriously consider this ship (as opposed to just entertaining the possibility of a cool dynamic between them). I mean, Stella looked like she’s seen the hottest new fashion collection and I know it was the magic but still. I kinda want a Darcy who is on her own (without her sisters) and manipulating/spelling Stella into being with her so that she could make place for herself in the Solarian court. And then she falls in love, of course.

- Just please tell me Sky won’t be without his memories for the rest of the season because that will just be too annoying. If they are going for drama, it would be good to at least make it relevant instead of shoving it in there by the ton for the sake of it.

5x04:

- Since when is the whole school so invested in Bloom? They weren’t when she was actually there and even though Winx are kind of legends now, you can bet your ass that there were still fairies that don’t like them. Not to mention that they shouldn’t all know what the hell happened when no one was there to witness it. Why would they let the whole school know if Erendor doesn’t even know yet?

- You are seriously telling me that Stella hadn’t considered being a fashion designer before? Really????? She literally spent her summer after season 1 as an intern for a fashion magazine and has been designing clothes since about the same time. This is just too dumb for words.

- Love how adorably awkward Timmy is. And I love that Tecna doesn’t mind at all. They are just too cute together!

- Ooh, tension between the Trix. That is interesting. Or at least would have been if it were focused more on the power balance in their own dynamic rather than on hate vs love for Tritannus. Why does everything have to be about guys?

- At least Flora seems to like Crystal now which is cool. But I cannot express how annoyed I am by the fact that the whole thing with the pendant is preventing him from getting his memories back. And the stupid thing is that this actually has potential. Losing the pendant could be the peak of Sky’s guilt towards Bloom for all the pain he’s caused her (about Diaspro and not only) and that could be very interesting to explore but this show will never go that deep. It’ll just remain as wasted potential. Just like everything else is.

- Okay, why does no one ever start with amnesia patients by asking them how they would like to go about things, how they feel? Stuff like that.

- Tecna really turned into a robot. Again, no fucking magical system to explain how you can turn a human into a robot. Plus, this could be interesting as well and also really deep but, again, this is Winx. It is not going to be deep. Even though they could have done so much with that premise and given Tecna a really cool arc.

- Ah, yes, I forgot to mention this while I was on the previous episode. I am done with Neptune being so dismissive and even aggressive against his other son. Like, maybe if you had tried some parenting, none of this would have come to pass. Just a thought. I am not saying that parents can prevent any bad choices their kids make but I am saying that he doesn’t look like he tried too hard to be a good dad. Nereus only turned out okay because they are twins and one of them has to be good while the other is evil. I am glad at least someone is trying to reach Tritannus even if he is beyond saving.

- Oh, off, Tritanus is not messing around. You know what? I actually like that. It was about time they made the villains as ruthless as they are trying to make them out to be. Even if I feel bad for his family because they just wanted to help him.

- Why do the selkies talk in the third person? They just went from useless to majorly annoying.

- Why don’t they just go get Faragonda? She may at least know what they are dealing with and possibly clue them in on how to unspell Tecna. They don’t have to reinvent the wheel, just find someone who knows how it was made.

- Great, they just set fire to the archive and nobody bothered to put it out. And they also released the elements in there. The question remains - will the archive survive their search for the Sirenix book? (What the hell were those other books, though? I would like to know where they came from.)

- Okay, but wasn’t the book Tecna opened cursed? What happened to that? And why did the spell on her phone only activate after she opened the book? This doesn’t make sense.

5x05:

- I am very confused about the order of episodes. “The Lilo” should be before “The Power of Harmonix” because they are still using their Believix powers but it makes more sense for the Harmonix episode to be after “The Book of Sirenix”. Anyway, I am watching “The Lilo” because Wikipedia says it’s the fifth episode even though it looks more like filler that wasn’t even meant to be in the season.

- At least we get to see Flora do something this time. She is the most neglected and it’s good to see her use magic for something else other than growing ivy. Seriously, Flo, chill with the ivy.

- “When I think of you, Helia, I believe in myself.” Because she can’t believe in herself if she doesn’t have a boyfriend. The intro is so totally right! What a way to show girl power!

- Why is the animation overly flowy? Is it because it is closer to 3D in order to tie better with the actual 3D later on? It kinda pokes out your eyes sometimes. Or at least mine.

- Someone remembered that the Whisperian Crystals were a thing. I love how they just made them sort of like GPS for magical objects even though they were only supposed to track the Dragon Fire. Proof of that is the fact that they never used them to track the Ring of Solaria even though they wanted it as well. So this is just a cop out to give them a chance to find the Lilo.

- Of course, the Lilo is in the possession of Mitzi’s little sister. Why wouldn’t it be?

- Gotta love how even the writers realized that it was too convenient for everything to be in Gardenia so they started making up excuses for it.

- Wait, how does Mitzi know who the Trix are? Have they... They haven’t met, right? What the hell? Also, Icy was literally standing in front of Macy but she couldn’t just grab the plant herself and had to order Darcy and Stormy to do it? Lazy much?

- Darcy’s powers are going back to their peak this season and I am so here for it.

- Flora legit just hit Icy with her shield. That was a good move and a little more aggressive than I would have expected from Flora but I’m not complaining.

- Great way to almost hit Macy, Stella.

- There was zero point to this episode. I guess they just had to do something to get them to a total of 26 episodes. And putting it right before the episode in which they get Harmonix is just ridiculous because they just powered up their Believix... right before they’ll stop using it.

5x06:

- They can’t even open the Book of Sirenix? Huh, that’s... kinda interesting actually.

- Oh, come on! Just when Bloom was making progress, Crystal brings in Diaspro. You have to love how the writers are implying that Crystal is no good by having her being friends with Diaspro. I thought we were over the Crystal drama but it looks like there will be more. And why is Bloom not losing her mind? Diaspro literally mind controlled Sky! Goddammit, it’s in situations like this I wish I could trust Erendor to do the best for his son! If Bloom could trust he wouldn’t side with Diaspro, she could have called him to let him make sure Diaspro stays away from Sky.

- Oh, they can lose their powers if they fail the quest? I like that! Extra stakes besides the Tritannus situation. This feels more intense now and I am here for it.

- I like the implication that there are other great fairies in the Magic Dimension and it’s not just Winx. Less so fond of the fact that the other fairies seem to be underhanded but I’ll take what I can get.

- Awwwww! That scene with Stella, Tecna and Musa was so precious! I love Stella’s joking and the fact that Tecna is so upset about what happened but she still believes their reassurances! And Musa saying she might start talking about her mother... *sob* This is so precious! They are opening up to each other even more than they have already! And about the tough topics. Ah, my heart!

- Okay, I kinda like the solidarity between Bloom and Layla. Also, the fact that Flora finally figured out what they are doing. Though, that’s kinda weird to me. Flora has been more wary of the reckless plans but I don’t think she would put her powers above her friends and possibly Layla’s whole realm if not the whole universe.

- Really wish it would have been someone else that had saved the horse and not Bloom.

- “Shadow hand”? Man, I was right. Darcy’s powers are peaking! Also, whatever spell Icy used on Winx to make it harder for them to move was super cool as well. I like it.

- They have to complete the Quest in one lunar cycle? That’s 28 days... On Earth. Maybe they should have specified which moon. Since Solaria has 2 suns there are probably millions of moons out there. Okay, that isn’t working out and I wish they had been more specific with it. This episode had some cool stuff about the Magic Dimension already and they could have done more. Anyway, one lunar cycle sounds like a short time but since it’s Winx, it is probably a long time.

- Oh, they just all got Harmonix without doing anything in order to earn it. Greaaaaat. And I have to say that the Harmonix design is so impractical. Why so many veils? They’re just gonna boggle them down. Of course, nothing ever gets wet on shows but seriously? If you’re fighting with someone, they can grab you by the veils or the veils can tangle around you and become the reason for your demise. This is stupid.

- Okay, so Tecna was being really insecure but they left her behind in the search of the Gem of Self-confidence? Like, you just threw away a golden opportunity. I am into the idea that they are going in the Magical Reality Chamber to still be at the place of the action so to speak and be able to help the rest better, though.

- Love the idea of the boat that can go to any water body. I would like one. Less so enthused about the contradiction in this very episode. Stella was complaining about wearing heels when she could have just changed with magic. The proof is right there since she changed hers, Bloom’s and Layla’s whole outfits just about 10 minutes later. This is ridiculous.

- Not @ the way the writers already threw Roy in despite the fact that it has been just five episodes since the beginning of the season. Also not @ the way he seems to be the stereotypical “girls need my protection” guy. Wish Layla would just keep not liking him. But they are probably trying to emulate what happened with Nabu at first. Ugh, I hate this so much I can’t even tell you.

- Oh, come on! They’ll be bonding with the selkies now? Let me guess, that was only written so that the selkies can get their powers back through the bonds, So Tritannus will enter the Infinite Ocean with the stolen selkie powers and Winx will enter it with help from their bonded selkies. This is so transparent, I can’t even. Also, totally needed their selkies to be matching the color of their Harmonix. I mean, how else are you gonna tell that they’re their bonded selkies? Not like they have personalities or are relevant in any way. Also, can another fairy bond with a selkie that has been “taken”? Like, there is a pixie for every fairy but the selkies are much less so... what the hell? This doesn’t make any sense.

- I hate what they did with the challenge for self-confidence. They could have done so much better. But first, Bloom’s test is all about Sky (which is dumb as fuck because it literally tells you their relationship is the biggest source of insecurity in her life) and Stella’s is about her not having confidence in her fashion taste? Really? Layla’s was most cutting as always but they didn’t even try to make it hard. It was so obvious that Nabu was an illusion because he was being cruel to her and the real Nabu would never. They should have gone for something else that would have really made her struggle with figuring out it is not real. Plus, by figuring out it is not real, she didn’t exactly confront her issue with confidence. And Bloom and Stella couldn’t even break out of it on their own and needed her help. How is that successfully passing the test?!?!?!?! And I was just starting to think that this could be getting better. It was I who should have known better.

5x07:

- Aww, I love how dedicated Stella is to knowing stuff about Solaria. She is going to be a precious queen. Also, her guardian of Sirenix is so beautiful.

- Ugh, the Trix are pulled apart again. I hate it. Darcy and Stormy do have a point. I just wish Icy would keep her head in the game. Also, do they sleep out in the open? In a swamp or whatever the hell that is?

- Wow, Sky that has no memory treats Bloom better than Sky that has memory of her. Interesting. Like, if he can calm her worries about Diaspro so easily when he doesn’t even remember how much he loves her, why didn’t he do that in the previous seasons? Honestly.

- Roy is annoying me just by cheering for Winx. This is not going well.

- Oh, damn, Flora got turned into stone. What did Tritannus do to that jellyfish? Turn it into Medusa (lmao, fun fact - jellyfish is called medusa [more like meduza but still] in Bulgarian)? Seriously. And why is Flora the one saving the selkies when she is the only one that isn’t bonded to any?

- Since the Trix also didn’t put any work into earning their powers, it is only fair that Winx get a free upgrade as well. I am just glad that at least the Harmonix spells look differently even though they function in the same generic way.

- Hey, Sky is actually starting to remember? Good. I was prepared to suffer through this amnesia arc up until 5x13 at least but now I have timid hope that it will not last that long. I guess the writers haven’t heard of muscle memory, however.

- How did the Gem of Confidence turn Flora back into herself when the jellyfish that turned her into stone had nothing to do with it? It was Tritannus’ doing and not even intentional. It shouldn’t have had petrifying powers in the first place. None of this makes any sense. Not to mention that the Gem somehow multiplied to six gems. I mean, really? Would’ve been much better if they could only choose to complete one box aka everyone else would lose their powers but then through their shared goal (aka Faragonda telling them that they have to be of one mind and heart) they could have all gotten the Sirenix. Just no other powers. That would have been way more interesting (obviously Layla would be the one whose box they’d complete and I don’t believe the Dragon Fire can be extinguished anyway so Bloom could even have a loophole out of that). And besides, they don’t use the old transformations anyway.

5x08:

- Stella is rocking that outfit. But why streaks? Stella, no!

- Tecna and Timmy are absolutely adorable with their mega nerdiness. I love it.

- Jeez, really? Sky is a better dancer with amnesia than Brandon is? I mean, this could have been plausible if they hadn’t established already in the previous episode that his muscle memory has fucked off into oblivion as well. Otherwise, yes. As royalty, he is probably better at dancing. Even though battle requires a lot of coordination as well. But nice of Kiko to try to help.

- Come on, Stella, you’re being insensitive. You would be “moping” too if Brandon had died. Please, don’t try to set Layla up with guys. Just give her some time to grieve!

- I don’t know what Stella expected. Of course, Layla is going to get offended by that. She doesn’t want company, she wants Nabu back.

- Oh, come on! Musa really got mad at Riven just because he liked the music another girl was playing? What, is he supposed to only listen to her music now? She isn’t even the vocalist of their band.

- They only have 10 days left to complete the missions? When did they manage to waste so much time? Like, they legit got the first thing done in one day. Where did the other go?

- Tressa has had so much growth since season 3. I love her. Really wish they’d let her be queen. But wtf, why can the king know what all of his subjects are doing? That is so invasive. Also, Layla should not be in the range of his powers. Man, the writers are really pulling some bullshit here.

- You’d think the selkies will learn that they can’t stop Tritanus and will try to not get in his way so that he wouldn’t get to steal their powers. But nope, they are both useless and stupid.

- Okay, Stella did mess up and she should have known why what she did was a bad idea but Layla giving her the silent treatment is not going to help either. I hope that the fact that Musa is dealing with the loss of her mother can help the two of them patch things up as well. Maybe there will be a lesson in this for both of them.

- Now it makes sense why Musa turned into an ocean type of monster. And this is a good opportunity for Stella and Layla to find their balance again and help save Musa.

- Stella’s attacks are still hurting Musa. And wouldn’t it make more sense for Layla to use her powers to stop her? She could make a net with morphix that will be both more reliable and less harmful for Musa. Seriously, why do they always make the dumbest choices possible?

- You know what would have been more interesting? If the healing of the bond could only work one way and the selkie didn’t get her powers back. They could have brought in Galatea to also bond with her in order to restore her powers later on so that they could enter the Infinite Ocean. That would have been more creative. But nah.

- Stella’s sudden understanding of Layla really came out of nowhere. And it felt like Layla only forgave her because she didn’t want to fight with her anymore, not because she was truly okay with what Stella did. This could have been done so much better.

- These Sirenix quests are so convenient. They all have to do with places the girls know and clues they have history with. It would have been much harder if they had to go to planets they don’t know how to navigate and a better way to do more worldbuilding.

- Bloom really can’t take 10 days away from the Sky mess? They can literally lose their powers forever which could mean handing Tritannus victory but she is more concerned with Sky’s memory that can possibly only get better in the next ten days while she focuses on the mission? Oh, come on!

- They are really trying to push hard the idea that Bloom and Sky are destined to be together. Also, now that they found the shell, can Sky’s memory block disappear? It would make sense. Please, just end this already.

5x09:

- Really? Bloom is sensing that something is wrong with Daphne but Marion isn’t? This could have been a cool moment to bring in the fact that their parents are back. Especially since Bloom isn’t going to do shit about it. I mean, how dense is she that she didn’t recognize the clouds of pollution hanging around Daphne in her dream? Could have at least tried to contact Daphne to make sure she was okay. Especially since she knows that Daphne talks to her through her dreams and that has been A Thing since season 1. I just... cannot.

- I... don’t even know what to say about Stella here. On the one hand I understand her frustration as she feels like no one supports her passion for fashion but on the other hand... Stella, no! Brandon was right that she needs to consider other people’s feelings sometimes, though, I’d say none of Winx exhibited particularly high levels of empathy here except maybe Flora.

- Oh, Tecna. On the one hand I want to say that there shouldn’t be a reason to feel nervous face to face with Timmy when they get along so well, but on the other, we have all experienced what she’s talking about. Texting can be so much easier sometimes even if it can also be dangerous because it lacks the context of body language.

- Seriously? We’re gonna make it through all the girls’ planets. I said it before and I’ll say it again, but this Sirenix Quest sure is damn convenient. At least it is kinda ironic that the Gem of Empathy is on Zenith since they seem to rely on technology more.... Man, that could have been an awesome opportunity to make Zenith more three dimensional by explaining that they develop so much technology so that they could make the lives of everyone easier when they have digital assist aka their focus on technology is driven by empathy. But again, that is just too deep for this show.

- Oh, come on! Stella really turned into a three-year-old? Why the hell would there be an age-changer spell in the pin? This doesn’t make sense. And again, a fucking wasted opportunity. Stella was running low on empathy here so including her in the search for the Gem of Empathy would have provided way more character development than this shit right here. I would have sent Stella, Tecna and Musa to get the Gem and Bloom, Flora and Layla to go look for Daphne. Or better yet, Stella and Tecna for the Gem, Musa and Layla after Tritannus and Bloom and Flora to check on Daphne.

- Is Layla ever going to use her Harmonix powers? Seriously, she has transformed how many times now and I can’t remember her using any of her new magic.

- Why is Layla now smiling at Roy even though she never transitioned from “annoyed” to “friendly teasing”? I hate this so much.

- It must be weird for Brandon to see his girlfriend as a three-year-old while he is still twenty. Like, that will make for a fun conversation once the spell wears off.

- It is so goddamn obvious that Tritannus has been there! Like, did the clouds of pollution not tip you off?????? Honestly, why don’t any of them have normal rationalizing abilities? It is a simple deduction! You don’t need the selkies to tell you! Besides, didn’t they already say that he crossed over to Zenith? This is like looking between a needle and a single straw of hay and having to point out which is the needle and they are failing!

- Shoot, I thought “where the one looks over the many” was supposed to be something of a mathematical riddle or something that would have to make Tecna focus on the whole rather than the details. The throne thing? Just... meh.

- I would have preferred it if their test of empathy involved something that was already inside them and came from themselves rather than them being placed under a spell by the Gem. It could have brought out their most unempathetic thoughts but I still think there was a better way to do this, and a more emotional one.

- Seriously?????? I mean, FOR REAL?!?!?!?!?! THAT is what they had to do to get the gem???????????????????????????????????????????????????? They didn’t even resolve their issues!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How did they prove they were worthy of having it. God, I hate this.

- How did the age-changer spell had any bearing on the plot or the characters? It literally didn’t do anything for Stella or Flora, Musa and Brandon for that matter. They had so many amazing opportunities in this episode and they were all wasted. I just... *frustrated sigh*

5x10:

- Is it just me or is the idea to put the Christmas filler episode right a couple of days before the deadline for the Sirenix Quest the worst idea ever? Well, not the worst because this show is just full of bad ideas but still somewhere up there with the big guys.

- I was gonna get incredibly angry if they’d made Christmas be a thing in the Magic Dimension but they got at least that right. And that way it’s cute that Bloom gets to introduce her friends to a new holiday. They all got so excited about the presents! Adorable! The only thing that would have made this better was if she’d invited Marion and Oritel to Mike and Vanessa’s as well to celebrate together.

- I was ready to hate this episode but it has actually caught my attention. Love how the Trix decided the magic of Christmas is literal magic and they want to steal it from Bloom. This is actually exactly what a funny filler episode should be like.

- Aww, a surprise Musa and Riven moment. That was adorable.

- Am I the only one who is getting Yu Gi Oh vibes from this monster? Okay, four monsters (Why four? That is so random. Three would have made more sense.). They just remind me too much of Blue Eyes White Dragon.

- You know what would be really cool? If Stella made a cage with mirrors at key places to reflect the light beam she shoots at the creatures so that it would keep running through the cage to stop them from reforming.

- Oh, wow. Faragonda showed up. I never thought that would happen. Not that she’s been much use. Like, you fought the Ancestral Witches! Surely, there has to be something you can do! Not to mention that how the hell did the Trix get magic of the darkest order? That’s just bullshit.

- You know what? I would be more worried about the fact that they may not be able to break the spell before they run out of water and food and other essentials. Like, the Christmas thing is upsetting but not a priority right now,

- Okay, the Trix are inside the ice dome but the ice dragons aren’t? That seems like a hole in their plan.

- The others got the spirit but they a little confused. Bloom doesn’t just miss Christmas but spending it with her family and they can’t give her that. Though, none of them didn’t even try to teleport. Depending on the way you do it, maybe they could have gotten out.

- This episode is kinda all over the place but at least it has that cool vibe from season 1 when they got to actually just chill around the school and do some fun stuff. Actually put time in just being friends. Oh, and the friendship charm bracelets are really cute! I love them.

- You know they don’t have what to put in an episode when they give the full transformations twice. Nice job, there.

- Making a hole in the dome does not sound like the best course of action because Winx could have just gotten out of there and forced the Trix to chase them. But no one thought of that.

- I feel second hand embarrassment on Icy’s behalf. If she ever gets to learn that she misunderstood about the magic of Christmas, that is. The way things are going, Bloom is gonna blast them out of the dimension without ever revealing that this was all for nothing.

- Well, Bloom could have just used her Dragon Fire to destroy the ice dragons the moment they appeared and none of that would have happened but why the hell would she do that? I have to say that I would have preferred it if Winx and the Specialists had gone to Gardenia instead of having Gardenia go to Alfea. Like, I get it that they wanted to make Christmas touch the Magic Dimension as well but Alfea has never celebrated a Zenithian-specific holiday for example or a Solarian one. It just makes the whole Winx universe a little too focused on Bloom again.

5x11:

- Omg, I am feeling so bad for Daphne. Hasn’t she suffered enough? Though, I have to say that I am at least glad Icy came up with a decent plan for counteraction this time even if it is cruel. At least it makes sense!

- Why the hell is the wind-rider competition held in Alfea? It should have been in Red Fountain but I guess the animators couldn’t be bothered to pull out their old animation of it and remember how to draw it.

- Bloom giving Sky a pep talk was kinda cute. I get why he would be nervous and it was cool that she did her best to help him. And that moment with throwing some harmless magic his way to show him his own reflexes was actually smart and hella cute as well. I just wish they wouldn’t have gone for the “he is the best Specialist ever to live” thing again but I’ll take it as his friends telling a white lie to soothe his anxiety.

- So the Trix are just being bullies for no reason at all. Also, they already used that invisibility spell when they messed with Tecna’s phone. Or at least it looked the same.

- Poor Kiko. Getting accused for something he didn’t do and then also being attacked by clones. But was it that only he could see them? Because otherwise, it should have tipped Bloom off that something’s wrong.

- They don’t need to remind us every time that there is no time to waste for the Sirenix Quest. We get it. And even if I had the episodes spaced out by weeks, I doubt I would forget that they have a time limit considering that this is not plot heavy and they have mentioned it, like, a million times already.

- Oh, they’re going to Linphea next. Look, even Tecna noticed that all the parts of the Quest have been on their home planets.

- Wow, Flora, you think the flower might be on your planet? Damn, girl, you’re such a genius. No one would have ever guessed. They have an ocean of flowers and she is still not sure? W.O.W.

- Love how it took Faragonda and Saladin a solid minute to interfere. Not like they were in a war or anything and should be 100% prepped to deal with crises. Why would you think that? And Griselda (and the other Alfea teachers) didn’t even get to do anything. Not to mention that Mirta has been studying at Alfea for a forth year now and she didn’t even try to fire at the beasts... You know, what could be considered an instinctive reaction.

- “Only one more keeper...”? Yeah, because there are only six-seven planets in the whole universe! (Didn’t he already get the powers of the selkie of Earth as well as from everyone’s home planets except for Bloom’s? Who’s gonna restore the Earth selkie’s powers... Wait, is it going to be Roxy? And does that mean we’re finally going to Domino this season?)

- I was gonna ask whatever Roy was gonna do without Layla being there but he isn’t there either. So why was he there the other times if not to drive the boat? They gave him one job to justify his presence and then they took that away as well.

- Funny how it is always the selkies of the girls that have gone on the Quest that appear and not any of the others. One of them (I am not even gonna bother to learn their names) said she could sense the presence of her fairy but still. Though, with their powers restored, I guess they could do that.

- Do I remember wrong or are Flora and her selkie the only ones that actually hugged? Cause that was kinda cute.

- Okay, Sky’s plan was good but did Bloom really need him to pull her out of the way? I am pretty sure she could have done that on her own since it was obvious what the plan was.

- If I were Stella, I’d be worried that a plant might eat me too. Having courage doesn’t mean that you can’t be afraid. It means that you find it in yourself to go on despite the fear. So I’d say Stella is courageous enough.

- Okay, but this plant looks like it was touched by Tritannus’ pollution and so did all the rest of the places from the Quest (except for Melody). So that means that what is happening wouldn’t have happened if not for him aka they aren’t actually completing the Quest because they are fighting Tritannus’ influence on the environment, not performing the tasks from the Quest.

- Good! Tecna and Layla are actually being strategical about this even though all Bloom wants is to hang out with the boyfriend. I wouldn’t mind if she didn’t just get targeted. But why the hell would she care about her safety - or Sky’s for that matter - when they can go on a romantic walk instead?

- Really? They need a translator? Flora has communicated with plants numerous times before. She should be able to understand what the Flower of the Depths is saying to them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dear god, the writers are really trying to be as stupid as possible.

- Why didn’t Bloom try to transform before jumping against the Trix? Or at least shoot some magic at them? Once again, how are they still alive?

- Darcy’s powers are awesome and she’s using them well. I love how she pushed Musa in her own trap. But damn, it was harsh of Musa to try to cause the rocks to crush Darcy. I thought the Trix were supposed to be the cruel ones.

- Wow, I thought Icy would have at least a couple broken bones after Layla smashed her in the rock like that but nope. She’s fine.

- Okay, I actually think that Sky and Bloom are cute in this episode, what the hell? I like the fact that they decided to stop trying to get the past back to him. That may even actually help him remember when he’s not stressing and straining to do it. I thought that Bloom meant one of the memories she wants to keep was that of the shell they found, though. Wasn’t that soulmate special or something?

5x12:

- Icy is really not paying attention, huh? I mean, Tritannus saying that he would give her one more chance somehow didn’t sound too reassuring to me. He gave the Trix their powers so he could probably take them away any time he wants and then destroy them. Which sounded exactly like what he was planning to do before Icy convinced him to give her one more chance.

- Well, they noticed the pattern of the Quest running through all their home planets. They could have tried looking for the yellow reef on Domino before asking the guardian of the Sirenix box. Just to do something on their own, you know.

- Who let Bloom go in that dress? Didn’t Tecna say Stella was there as well? How could she let Bloom even put that thing on, let alone wear it to the Domino renewal celebration. Also, why the hell is that happening only now? It has been a season and a half since Domino was restored. I thought this would be the discussion of Tritannus.

- Love how they didn’t even redo the footage from SotLK and just slapped the different art style right in the middle of the one from season 5. Lazy as lazy gets.

- Um, wasn’t the plan to capture Bloom? And if they changed it to getting Marion and Oritel, why didn’t they try to do that when Bloom wasn’t there? They couldn’t get her but they will somehow get her parents who literally defeated the Ancestral Witches while Bloom and two or three of her friends plus Sky are also there? How does that make sense?

- Oh, come on! The dresses looked much better without the flowers. Also, you’re telling me that Stella made them fit the same theme as Bloom’s but she didn’t have anything to do with Bloom’s dress? This is just... ridiculous. Also, how do flowers relate to Domino? Sparks or even gems would have made better sense. A fire pattern even.

- Marion and Oritel are giving very different vibes from the ones in Magical Adventure and even SotLK (even though they had like five lines each in that one).

- Did Bloom suddenly forget that Sky does not remember how he saved the Sword? And she left him alone even though he doesn’t have his memories? Also, why do none of their parents know about that? And up until this point, there were always three of them going on the Quest. But now that Bloom is actually needed somewhere else she is going even though she could have left it to Stella, Layla and Flora? Come on!

- Didn’t the pendant sink in the ocean on Earth? Where are the selkies now? And how come Flora’s selkie decided that she will know who the pendant belongs to? You know, out of the infinite number of people in the whole universe. The fact that she just so happens to actually know is yet another too convenient convenience but still.

- The mimicry fish are adorable and I love them.

- Wait, can any selkie open any portal? I thought they could only open the portals that they were guarding. But then Winx shouldn’t have been able to pass from Domino back to wherever Tritannus attacked - Andros maybe?

- Love how Marion instantly jumped away when the Trix attacked despite how much her outfit must weigh. And you’re telling me that Oritel is the fighter between the two of them? Yeah, right. Just please, let her use her magic to stop the Trix. We know she has it! Don’t make her look helpless because she is far from it.

- Well, of course, even the oceans of Domino are the best and have the rarest fish even though it is the planet of the Dragon Fire and Andros is the center of all oceans. Makes perfect sense.

- Okay, Marion and Oritel are definitely giving waaaay different vibes from the ones in the movies but I have to say that I kinda like how fierce they are. Not @ Oritel’s “Still have it in you?” because duh, she obviously does and even more so than you do, Oritel, but other than that I love how smoothly they just switch from celebration to a fight that is potentially for their lives. Also, I like that Sky gets to fight with them... Or at least he was supposed to.

- Yes, the one time Bloom is there, the others are completely useless. Also, that thing is not a coral. Wasn’t the Gem supposed to be in the jaws of the coral, not whatever the hell this fish is. And how is it in its mouth? How does it not ingest it when it eats? This doesn’t make sense.

- Love whatever Marion did there with shooting magic out of her sword. However, I don’t like the fact that the writers have forgotten she has magic and is not defenseless without a sword. And how did that trick even work? She could have just turned around and seen that it wasn’t the real Oritel. Not to mention that if Oritel knows the Trix are descendants of the Ancestral Witches, Marion does too aka she should have known that one of them has illusion powers. Given the fact that they fought a whole war against Lysslis, I am pretty sure she has faced similar tricks before and should have known better.

- Please, tell me the creature was supposed to vanish and it wasn’t Bloom that vaporized it from inside. Also, I so totally knew the last gem would be green. It made perfect sense.

- At least they remembered that Oritel’s sword is supposed to be special because it has Dragon Fire in it.

- Bloom and Sky saving her parents “together” makes no sense because Sky doesn’t have magic. So it wasn’t him that helped her save them but the sword.

- Their declarations of love were kinda undermined by him remembering and in such stupid way. Like, all the progress he made in restoring their relationship and even remembering a little wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t gotten the pendant back. Aka his blockage wasn’t actually going away. It was still there which means that his emotions were not getting worked out.

- I know Marion and Oritel will not go help save Daphne even though that would be the only logical thing and I am so fucking mad about it, you don’t even know.

5x13:

- Oh, god! They changed even the intro and the 3D animation is as ugly as I remember it to be. Love how they also spoil the fact that the girls will get Sirenix in this episode. Not that the title of the episode doesn’t.

- I have beef with this recap. That fish that had the Gem of Courage was so totally not a shark. It just wasn’t. I’m no shark expert but that was definitely not a shark. It looks like some fish you can find in the depths (I don’t remember their name) but it sure as hell ain’t a fucking shark.

- What training? They need to go get Daphne! Also, they handled Believix just fine. If Alfea had given them proper education, they should be able to control any transformation. Like, those should operate according to some goddamn logic.

- If Daphne hadn’t already told him, then why did she do it now? Man, he should have just made her talk before he told the Trix to leave Domino. Now that they were no longer there, Daphne didn’t have any reason to talk. She must have known that Bloom would find their parents so Tritannus lost his leverage. This is so nonsensical.

- What the hell does it mean that they have to look inside themselves? How is that gonna lead them to lake Roccaluche? The only one connected to it is Bloom because Daphne is her sister. This is ridiculous.

- How big is that lake and why does it look exactly the same way that the sea does? There is a difference between sweet water bodies and salt water bodies and the life inside them, you know, writers.

- Why would there be a protection system to guard the source of a whole ass goddamn transformation? It makes much more sense that anyone could just walk in and destroy it in 0.3 seconds.

- They just had to say that they will keep exhibiting the three virtues the Gems represented in order to get the location of the source of Sirenix? Man, really? Ugh, that is just so... ridiculously frustrating.

- For people who can lose their magic the same day, they sure don’t seem to be worried. Lounging and all.

- They know Tritannus was there. Obviously that is the explanation as to why the selkies did not find them.

- Yes, they totally look like they’ve “got this”.

- I actually liked the fact that Bloom had to give up finding out where Daphne is in order to save the lake. Seeing all the panicked animals rush around really drives home what is going on because they will all die if the lake dries completely.

- Oh, I am totally going to cry over Daphne’s anguish here. This looks so brutal. But here’s a thought for you. The whole power of Sirenix was put under a curse, right? Then why didn’t the Trix get affected by it? And if the Sirenix power is removed from Daphne, shouldn’t the curse disappear as well?

- Love how they forgot about the part where Sirenix was cursed even before Tritannus messed with the source.

- I hate the Sirenix transformation. It is the ugliest one to me and why did they have to go and give them streaks? The 3D look was bad enough already. Only the Trix’ Sirenix design is worse than this. (No, actually whatever the hell is happening to the Trix in the end of season 7 is the worst design idea they have ever had but I haven’t watched that.)

- So they didn’t need the selkies to enter the Infinite Ocean? Then how come that is what Tritannus needed? What the hell is wrong with the logistics of this whole thing?

- Where did all these minions come from? Did whatever he did to the... stone? thingy poison the nearby water and turn all creatures into his minions? Didn’t that work only on merfolk? If so, the Infinite Ocean seems overpopulated.

- They totally could have had Marion and Oritel in this but once Tritannus took Daphne into the Infinite Ocean, they would have needed to let Winx handle the rescue mission because the two of them wouldn’t be able to enter the Infinite Ocean. And boom, problem solved. They don’t have to drag Oritel and Marion through every episode while they still could have shown that they cared. Idk what was so complicated about that.

Part 2 can be found here.

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 51

Whatever Bertol had done to her, Nenani continued to feel the exhaustion deep inside her body and limbs. Her arms felt very much as though weights had been strapped to her wrists, and she found the simple endeavor of keeping herself sitting upright to be alarmingly difficult. At last, the fatigue won out and she collapsed back against the bubble in a tired heap. It was a terribly distressful feeling, and she may have been inclined to worry more if not for the reassuring sight of both Farris and Keral only a dozen yards away.

While Keral’s gaze was firmly fixed on their captor, Farris was studying the condition of the humans as best he could from his vantage point. His green eyes met Nenani’s own and she placed a hand against the wall of her prison in a silent plea for release. Shifting his focus to Bertol, his expression darkened and his mouth pulled back into a bitter snarl.

“I’ll warn yer now,” he growled. “If ye’v harmed a single hair on their heads, I’ll draw and quarter ye myself.”

“They’re perfectly fine,” Bertol replied in irritation as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ye should be more concerned with how well Ellis is fairing, seeing as she’s the one been stuck in a damn jar for weeks.”

“She says she’s just fine,” Keral assured him and then jerked his head forward towards the bubble. “Now let ‘em go and I’ll let sparkles here out.”

Bertol did not move and merely regarded the brothers with reserved contempt. “You must think I’m an imbecile.”

Keral did not deny the accusation nor did his stare waver. Bertol’s own glare remained firm and unyielding and several moments passed where nothing was said. Abruptly, the tense silence was shattered when a small voice cut through with an irritated, “Oh for fuck’s sake, Bertie! Just let them go already.”

The severity of Bertol’s glare lessened and he addressed the occupant of the lantern. “You first. Then the children.”

“You must think so little of me that I could not escape this thing,” the fairy replied, rapping her knuckles against the glass. “Unlike the jar, this hasn’t been sealed. So let them go so we can all get on with our lives. I am desperate to spread my wings.”

Though not appearing the least bit placated by Ellis’s words, Bertol nodded mutely and waved a hand in a downward motion. All three bubbles floated towards the ground before bursting, and all three of the humans fell unceremoniously onto the grass. Nenani struggled to push herself up, her arms shaking badly. Jae was suddenly at her side, pulling her up with him and leaning her against his side for support.

“Watch it,” Keral growled, reaching up to the lantern and pulling the door open. With a sidelong glance at the fairy, he said, “I appreciate yer cooperation, Ellis. And yer help.”

“I suppose it’s my own fault,” said the fairy as she leaped into the air. Her iridescent wings unfurled from behind her and she stretched her arms and legs out, relishing her new freedom, as she hovered around Keral’s head as a golden ball of light. “I could have explained everything at the start, but magicians are so thick-headed about their worldview of magic, I didn’t see the point of even trying it. I’m just sorry Haiyer got mixed up in all this stupidity. And the others too, of course.”

Keral level a deadpan look at the fairy. “Uh-huh.”

The fairy flew over the brothers’ heads before zooming across the field. Bertol stepped forward to meet her, his hands reaching out eagerly, and the golden ball of light dropped gently into his hands. “I missed you, dearheart.”

“You sentimental old fool,” Ellis replied, though there was a smile in her voice. She rose up to nuzzle his nose and wrapped her thin arms around his face. “I missed you too.”

“Let’s go home,” Bertol said as he turned and began making his way back towards his tent.

“Not so fast there,” Keral said as he put down the lantern and slipped his pack off his back. He stepped forward, pushing his coat back to pull a pair of iron shackles from his belt. “Ye didn’t think ye could just up and trespass on the King’s property, abduct his son plus the heirs to Silvaara, and then just bugger off back into obscurity did ye? Ye’v got a lot to answer fer, Bertol.”

Bertol sneered at the ranger, pulling Ellis to his chest. “You have your waifs and I have my companion. Our business ends here.”

“I don’t think so,” replied the ranger, and then sprinted forward, his hands reaching out for the hermit. Bertol’s right hand pulsed with yellow light and he swung it in a circle above his head. A great wind cut through the copse of trees that shoved Keral back as it struck him. The ranger fell to the ground hard with a cry of alarm and pain. Farris scrambled towards the children and fell to his knees. His arms swept around to coax them all together and he used his body as a shield against the unnaturally turbulent wind.

Only when it died away did Farris raise his head, though he kept his arms curled around the humans. Nenani looked up to find that Bertol, Ellis, and the tent were all gone. She was still staring at the empty spot they left behind when, all at once, a deep chill settled over them. It was as though Bertol had been keeping the worst of the cold at bay and, now that he was gone, it was seeping back. Nenani’s whole body shivered with the sudden drop in temperature. The frozen grass under her was melting and soaking through the thin material of her nightdress, further exacerbating the problem.

Farris pushed himself up to study the humans below him. “Everyone alright, then?”

“I didn’t get to say hi to Ellis,” Haiyer murmured with disappointment from his place beside Jae.

“Damn raggedy old mage,” Keral grumbled bitterly as he picked himself up, favoring his right hip. He brushed away grass from his sleeves and backside as he surveyed the now empty lot where the tent had been. But it was not completely empty. Within the impression left behind, Keral’s eyes spotted the humans’ blankets laying in sad little heaps. The bright-colored fabric stood out starkly against the greenery. Bending down to gather them up, he brushed off the clinging debris while still muttering under his breath. “Fuckin’ moldy old goat.”

“Dammit, why is it so cold?” Jae demanded loudly while fervently rubbing his arms.

“Because its winter and yer damn near naked,” Farris snapped as he shrugged off the pack he was carrying. It plopped onto the ground and he began to fish around inside. “Luck fer ye three, I thought of that.”

He pulled out a wool coat for Jae who took it eagerly and slipped into it. It was a thick dark brown material that fell around his knees with a simple string belt to tighten around his waist. For Haiyer, he pulled out a tawny-colored padded tunic. It looked more appropriate for someone three times Haiyer’s size. “Wasn’t able to actually nab anythin’ of yer own, but this’ll keep ye toasty just fine.”

The tunic’s sleeves were far too long on Haiyer, but the little boy seemed content enough to let the extra length fall over his hands and drag on the ground. The thicker material would do well enough to shield against the cold.

Keral walked up on them while holding out the retrieved blankets. “These should help a bit too.”

For Nenani, Farris had brought one of the wool dresses that Lolly had made her when she first came to Vhasshal. She had difficulty slipping into it and Farris’s eyes narrowed as he watched her struggle. He brought his hand to her side, fingers curling around her back, and leaned down to peer into her face.

“What’s wrong, lass?” he asked. The creases of his forehead were more concerned than irritated.

“Tired,” she answered, leaning against his hand. “Bertol did something to me.”

The mild worry in Farris’s face was replaced with fury. “What did he do to ye?” he demanded.

Jae answered for her before she could form any response.

“She went all fire mage on him. He really didn’t like that.” He held his hands up and wiggled his fingers. “Then his hands got all glowy and he just sort of sucked all her magic out of her until her flames died out. He seems to have a thing against fire mages.”

Farris’s nostrils flared, but he held back his words and focused instead on helping Nenani into the dress. She had managed to get it mostly over her head by herself, but Farris had to pull the rest of the garment down over her. Once she was dressed, he took one of the blankets from Keral, wrapped her up, and then tucked her into the crook of his arm.

“If I ever see that bastard again,” Farris sneered, “I’ll skin ‘im.”

He growled and grumbled inaudibly for several more moments and then turned his attention to the boys. “Yer just gonna have to manage without shoes til we get back. But we’ll be carryin’ ye, so ye should be just fine.”

“And speakin’ ‘a that,” Keral interjected. He stood over Jae and Haiyer and dropped the two other blankets over their heads before standing back up. Ignoring their muffled protests, he planted his hands on his hips to gaze out at the scenery around them. “Yer not gonna like how long that’s gonna take.”

Farris frowned. “Just how far out are we?”

“Don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” was Keral’s frank reply.

Farris’s frown deepened. “What do ye mean ye don’t know? Yer a damn ranger.”

Keral returned his brother’s glare. “That was my first time taking a fairy portal, too. I’m used to knowin’ how I got to a place instead of being dropped down into it. What I can tell ye is we’re way fuckin’ north.”

“Well I could ‘a figure that much out myself,” Farris grunted, jerking his head towards the looming mountains.

“Fairy portal?” Jae asked after freeing himself from the blanket, and he looked back and forth between the brothers for explanation. “What do you mean fairy portal?”

“Just as I said,” Keral answered. “When the guards found ye all missin’, the whole castle lost their fuckin’ minds. Turned the whole place upside down. And we weren’t gonna just sit there and pretend like we were gonna find ye somewhere under the floorboards, so we decided to find ye ourselves. Grabbed some supplies and went to see if Maevis could give us an idea of which direction to go.” He scratched his chin and shrugged. “And then wouldn’t ye know it? A lil’ voice starts berattin’ us from an empty jar. Said we were irresponsible fer losin’ ye and some other insults I don’t remember. Then all a sudden that empty jar wasn’t so empty anymore. Maevis damn nearly fainted findin’ out not only are fairies real, but he’d been keepin’ one in his office. She offered to lead us to the fucker that nabbed ye three in exchange fer lettin’ her out and we took her up on that. She makes this big ol’ ring of light, we stepped through, and poof! Here we are.”

“And now that the fairy has left…” Jae prompted.

Keral turned his head to regard him with one eye. “We ain’t got as easy a way back as we did gettin’ here. So that means we’re walkin’.”

Jae wilted, pulling the edges of the blanket up around his face. “Wonderful.”

“Well, don’t be surrenderin’ to gloom just yet, lad. Might not be as bad as all that,” Keral replied. He pointed off to the left at the tallest of the mountain peaks. “That big one there is Mt. Vehnmir. So that must mean we’re somewhere in Dovencliffe or close enough to it. If we start headin’s south, we’ll start hittin’ civilization within a day or so. The Lords Harvington and Adler have hunting lodges up this way. If we can find one, we’d be able to garner some help from them and get a message back to Warren at the very least. Lord Brennan’s estate’s up here too somewhere.” Keral grinned down at Jae, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “And of course yourdear friend Lord Colem.”

Jae glared at the ranger. “I would rather walk all the way back barefooted.”

“Lucky fer ye, then,” Keral laughed, “I’ll be carryin’ yer sorry arse.”

“Great,” Jae grumbled. “First I’m taken hostage by bumbling fucking Bertol and then I get to be hauled across the country like a sack of potatoes.”

“A royal sack of potatoes,” Keral corrected smugly.

“You’re far too happy about this,” Jae told him. “Shouldn’t you be more pissed that Bertol got away?”

Keral crouched back down in front of Jae and ruffled his hair. The puckish tilt to his grin grew warmer and soft. “Just relieved to have found ye safe and in one piece, lad.”

Wrapped up snugly in his blanket, Haiyer ambled over to Keral and tugged on his coat. When the ranger looked, all he could see of the boy were his eyes and nose peeking out.

“Hm? What’s wrong, pup? Yer feet froze?” Keral asked, reaching down and gently nudging the boy with a knuckle.

Haiyer wiggled back and forth. “I have to pee…”

Keral raised an eyebrow and jerked his head in the direction of the trees. “Plenty ‘a trees over that way.”

“I don’t wanna go by myself,” whined the little boy.

Keral smirked and eyed him accusingly. “Don’t tell me yer afraid now.”

Even with the majority of the boy’s face covered, his expression of indignation was clear enough, and to further accentuate it he stomped his foot. “I am not afraid.”

Keral hummed in consideration. “I think ye might be.”

With nothing more than a glare, Haiyer turned on his heels and began to march towards the trees. The excess blanket trailed behind him like an overly long cape. Jae moved as though to follow, but Keral stopped him by placing his hand in his path. At Jae’s questioning stare, Keral whispered, “Let’s see how far he gets.”

He was nearly two thirds of the way to the nearest tree before his determined pace began to slow and then stopped. Haiyer turned just enough to see if Keral was watching. Seeing that he had the ranger’s attention, Haiyer gave his best pleading pout and made a high-pitched mewling sound.

With a shake of his head, Keral stood. Chuckling, he told the little boy, “Son, one ‘a these days yer gonna have to learn to take a piss all on yer own.”

“I know how!” Haiyer asserted vehemently as Keral approached. In a smaller, less assured, voice he admitted, “But I don’t want to.”

Keral gathered up the boy and blanket before making his way to the shelter of the trees. Farris watched them go with a sigh and shake of his head before turning his attention back to his ward.

“How ye feelin’, Dumplin’?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She wiggled within her blanket, thankful for the warmth. “A little better I think. Just tired.”

“Hm.” Farris did not seem convinced.

Glancing up to meet his eye, she said, “Thank you for coming to get us.”

He snorted a laugh, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Aye, well I got a wee bit tired of waitin’ fer someone else to go and rescue ye from all the shit ye manage to get yerself into. Gotta tell ye though, lil’un. Startin’ to get old.”

She broke out into a smile, but it quickly faded as guilt welled up. “Sorry you’re stuck out here.”

“A lil’ walking never hurt no one,” Farris assured her. “Could ‘a timed it better though. After that smokey bastard crashin’ the party last night, everyone was convinced he’d been the one to grabbed ye. The King and yer Mum were just about ready to send out the army.”

Nenani’s eyed widened in alarm and she tried to sit up. “What?”

He coaxed her back down with his hand. “Don’t get too excited now. I’m sure Maevis’ll have told him all that happened. So the sooner we can get a message back to ‘em the better.”

“Warren wouldn’t really send the army out,” Jae remarked, but as he said it, he looked unsure. “Would he?”

“Can’t rightly say. He was livid when they found all ye missin’,” Farris told him frankly.  “Chewed out the guards, chewed out Rheil, and Lolly said he was even throwin’ stuff.”

Jae looked very nervous and uncomfortable. “How long do you think it’ll take to get back?”

“Wrong one to ask, lad,” Farris replied. “My work’s in the kitchen. All this out here is Keral’s territory. But if we do find one ‘a these lord’s estates or lodges or whatever the fuck they have out here, it won’t be longer to get a message to His Majesty. If only to let ‘im know yer alright.”

“Was Mama mad too?” Nenani asked.

Farris shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Wouldn’t be surprised to find a few bits a furniture were turned into charcoal, though.”

………………………………..

Within the hour, they were moving. Jae was settled away inside Keral’s pack while Haiyer hitched a ride inside his large breast pocket. Farris made room inside his own pack for Nenani to lay down and rest. The sway of his gait easily lulled her into a dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes, feeling more like herself, it did not seem as though she had been asleep for very long. Her side was sore from where she laid against her dagger, but the pulling weight of fatigue was gone and replaced by a dull ache in her belly. She had only nibbled on the apples Bertol had doled out to them and now she was properly hungry.

Farris had left the top flap unbuckled and slivers of day light shone through the gaps. The swaying of the pack made getting to her feet tricky, but once she got a good hold of the top ridge she managed to hold herself up. Pushing aside the top flap, Nenani poked her head out into the crisp mid-morning air. The sun was further up in the sky, but not quite directly above them yet.

“I promise you Keral on my life,” Jae was saying with real vehemence. He too was standing inside the pack with the flap pushed aside. “The lyric goes ‘and I’ll be gone by morning,’ not ‘I’ll be fine by morning.’”

“Hm,” Keral hummed in consideration. “Might be. Still like the other version better.”

Jae sighed dramatically and flopped over the ranger’s shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

Farris laughed. “No use tryin’, lad. That one’ll never admit to bein’ wrong.”

Keral turned to glower at his brother. “Me? Yer one to talk. I’ve met tax collectors more reasonable then yer moody arse.”

“Like to see how much ‘a yer manners ye manage to hold onto with my work load,” Farris shot back and then added, “And they’re paid more.”

“Ah, I’m sure yer justly compensated,” Keral told his brother and then under his breath, muttered, “ye kitchen gremlin.”

“Heard that,” Farris growled.

“Well, good to know yer hearin’ is still good.”

“If that was yer attempt at callin’ me old,” Farris replied with an unamused stare, “maybe ye need remidin’ that I’m only three hours older then ye.”

“And what a world of difference those three hours make,” Keral quipped with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Come off it,” scoffed Farris, but the edges of his mouth quirked in a suppressed grin.

“Just let me know if ye need a rest, old man,” Keral laughed.

Wordlessly, Farris leaned over and punched Keral’s shoulder. The ranger winced and pulled a pained hiss through his teeth. He rolled the offended shoulder. “I’m tellin’ Ma.”

“Go right ahead,” Farris laughed. “I’ve got three more in reserve from the last few times she begged me to knock some sense into ye.”

“Yer just lucky the lil’uns are here,” Keral warned, but his expression was one of mock anger. “Or I might ‘a said somethin’ unkind.”

Farris chuckled and shook his head. The motion caused him to catch sight of Nenani and he turned to better look at her. “Did our bickerin’ wake ye up?”

“No,” she answered, smiling. Leaning forward to rest her arms over his shoulder, she watched the grass below his feet pass by. “I’m all better now.”

He rumbled approvingly, the sound sending light vibrations through her arms.

Another hour passed easily as they moved through the low rolling hills, and the sparse cloisters of trees began to converge more and more until they faced the treeline of a thick forest.

“This can’t be the north tip of the Blackwoods, can it?” Farris asked, looking to his brother.

“Hm,” Keral hummed as he studied the trees before them and then looked up to mark the sun’s position in the sky. “Don’t think so. That would put us close to the Hoek boarder and Mt. Vehnmir is too far west. No, my best guess is we’re coming up on one of those hunting lodges I mentioned. At least, that’s my hope.”

“It’d be nice to get a message to the castle by end of day,” Farris remarked.

As the brothers spoke, Nenani took time to study the trees for herself. They were enormous things with their canopies reaching hundreds of feet above their heads. Though the season had robbed them of their leaves, the remaining branches jutted out every which way, with the smaller twigs spider-webbing out and mingling with those of the trees around them. The early morning fog that had dissipated with the climbing sun still clung to the inner pathways by virtue of the spindly canopy above, resulting in an eerie and ominous sight.

“Are we going through?” Nenani asked.

“Well, that’s the question,” Keral replied. “Do we go through or walk around? There’s no real way of knowing from where we are. There’s dangers to traveling through open land. No cover, for one. But that also means ye tend to see anyone trying to come up on ye. Most of the time, at least. In a forest, ye have more cover. But less of a chance at seein’ someone tailin’ ye.”

“What about walking around?” Nenani suggested, though even as she said it, she felt it was a silly question.

“Walking around might cost us a day, going through may only save us an hour. No way of knowin’ right now.”

“What would you do?” Jae asked the ranger. “If it was just you on patrol?”

“Me? Forest,” Keral asked, briefly glancing at Jae before turning his gaze back to the trees. “More resources, more cover.”

“Seems like we have our answer then,” Jae said simply.

Keral looked to Farris. “Ye agree?”

“If this is a lord’s land,” Farris began, his expression serious. “We could end up walkin’ right into a hunting party and risk earnin’ an arrow in our hides.”

“Ye ever been on a hunt with a noble, Farris?” Keral asked.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Farris replied wryly.

“They ain’t quiet affairs,” he explained. “Loud horns, squires whackin’ at bushes, and hollerin’ tryin’ to scare any game out into the open. We’ll hear any hunting party long before we come upon ‘em. And the season’s over fer that sort of sport. The lord’s still likely to be at the castle or on his way to his home estate. We’d be dealin’ with his resident staff.”

Farris considered this for a few moments and then nodded. “If there’s a chance goin’ through saves us a few miles, I agree. We should take it. Sooner we get these three back home, the better.”

Keral nodded. “I agree.”

Nenani kept quiet as they approached the tree line, all the while eyeing the skeletal branches above with growing unease. She could not explain exactly the reason for it, but she felt as though they were being watched.

And that they were distinctly unwelcomed. 

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BONUS ART: 

[thestraggletag]

Beauty in Surrender prompt. Zelena comes to take Rumple for herself, offering a deal or by force, and has no idea who she's dealing with or how formidable Belle can be.

She hadn’t expected Queen Snow and her king to come so readily for help. In the years since they’d first become acquainted with each other they had always been respectful, but had also made it clear she was something they tolerated because they had no other choice, given her control over the Dark One. They were tense but polite neighbours and though they made sure to always invite her to important events and to discuss anything that might even indirectly affect her kingdom they didn’t go out of their way to seek her help or company.

Until Zelena, some witch from the land of Oz, who also happened to be, apparently, Regina’s older sister. The monarchs were keeping the former queen captive. Though they had thought at first to make the winter palace into her prison it had quickly been pointed out that it hardly seemed fair to the people still imprisoned there. The last time they’d asked for magical help had been when they had found the vault of hearts, and had requested the Dark One’s help returning them to their rightful owners. For everything else they relied on fairy magic, which was all well and good as long as they did not use it against them.

But this new peril seemed to be outside the powers of the fairies, or their leader. Belle did not try and point out how suspicious it was for someone known as one of the most powerful beings on Earth always seemed to have her hands tied. So they had asked for her help. She’d told them to do what was logical: if the witch sought revenge on her sister it was in the best interest of both their kingdoms to simply let her have Regina. But Snow refused, which was not surprising. What was surprising was that she believed herself to be morally right, that endangering thousands of people over the life of a mass murderer was justified simply because she was her stepmother. 

She made the queen promise she would embrace and foster the friendship that existed between her princess and heir, Emma, and her own little Baelfire- they had met and taken to each other, but neither Snow nor her husband had let that friendship thrive- and then invited the witch over, under the guise of seeking her friendship. Zelena was, if possible, more obnoxious than her younger sister, and more entitled as well. She thought herself clever too, but Belle considered that a good thing, as it made her careless. 

She had power, that was true, greater than Regina’s or even her own mother. But that wasn’t what made Belle wary as they dined together. It was the way the witch eyed her beast, the covetous way her eyes followed him whenever he was in her presence. But, above all, she seemed to like seeing him at her feet, where he usually prefered to be. He ate from her hand and though this seemed to shock and disgust most it had the opposite effect on Zelena. She seemed to love it, if not for the fact that Rumple lay at his mistress’s feet instead of hers. 

She made slight overtures during dinner, innocent little quips that turned slowly into stronger demands. She seemed to be of the idea that Rumplestiltskin could be bought, or at least leased, if not outright taken. She felt more than saw the imp shudder at the notion, burrowing closer to her to make it clear how distasteful he considered the whole conversation.

She got more threatening as the night wore on and she got more and more tipsy. She pretended not to notice, even as her servants got more and more agitated. Hopefully this wouldn’t last longer than a night, not if things went according to plan.

...

The castle was big, but nowhere as opulent as it should’ve been. What a waste of magical potential. The whole kingdom was drab and simple when it could’ve been so much more… Clearly the Dark One wasn’t being appreciated enough, or used enough. It would be a blessing for everyone around her when she took him for herself. For him specially. She rather doubted his queen did anything more than treat him as her favourite dog. He would be her pet too, but she would know how to appreciate his qualities as a man.

At least they sent her a maid to help her undress and bathe. A meek but star-eyed little thing, who seemed in awe of her. She drew her a bath and she enjoyed being fawned over as the girl helped her out of her tight dress, undergarments, shoes and jewellery, eagerly providing her with conversation when she requested it. It was very easy to extract the information she wanted, to be told where the Dark One’s chambers were, and what he was likely doing at that time. Bathing, apparently, in one of the adjoining bathing chambers, which worked in her favour. She dismissed the chit afterwards, and the girl gathered up her strewn bits of clothing before leaving her an emerald silk robe nearby and retiring, her gaze demurely down.

She lingered inside the steamy bath for a few more minutes before getting out and putting on the robe, liking how the silk got wet and clung to her figure, enhancing her assets. She had piled her hair high to keep it dry so she shook it out, letting the curls fall messily down her back. Though she doubted she would need to do much to seduce the imp it never hurt to look appropriately sultry. The Dark One was likely to fall prostrate at her feet, and perhaps after they were done fucking he would be able to help her figure out how to transfer ownership from his queen to herself. She would be so much better for him, would allow him to revel in his darkest instinct and allow him to sample her delights whenever he pleased her. A much more agreeable arrangement for sure.

He wasn’t in the first two bathing chambers, but she heard him grunting in the next one. Likely taking matters into his own hands, like the neglected dog that he was. It felt almost charitable to seek him out, and the gratefulness he’d feel would hopefully translate in a keener desire to please her. She opened the door, frowning at the steam inside. Her first thought was for her hair, which she could practically feel as it frizzed unbecomingly. But once her eyes adjusted to the steam and low lights she forgot all about that. The Dark One wasn’t in the tub, nor was he alone. Queen Belle was with him, her back against the warm stone of the walls as her beast thrust into her. He was completely naked, the green-gold skin shining with sweat, but she was wearing a blue shift in crushed silk, baring one shoulder and both of her legs, which she had wrapped around the creature’s slim waist. 

She tried to say something but nothing came out. For some reason she was glued to the spot watching as the queen writhed and moaned in the creature’s arms, completely at ease with the brutal way in which he pounded into her. Mercifully just as she cried out in obvious release she snapped out of her stupor, closing the door just as the Dark One climaxed with a guttural roar. How… uncivilised. How dirty. Not at all how one was supposed to use a servant. The queen didn’t know how to put Rumplestiltskin in his proper place, contrary to what she had seen at dinner. It would be a relief for everyone when he was in stronger hands, under the command of someone who could reign him in, keep him subservient at all times.

Little did Zelena know, as she stormed back into her room, that her emerald choker was gone, taken by the maid she had so praised. And she wouldn’t find out until a few moments later when the Dark One crushed it in his grip, extinguishing her magic and lifeforce forever. 

Glinda would receive the remains to be buried afterwards, as well as safe passage back to Oz, to begin putting the stolen realm back to rights.

[clonerightsagenda]

While procrastinating on HTST I opened my old doc for Saving Face, which is a Jake-centric thing I was working on for Gill. I was never entirely happy with it, which is why it never went on ao3 despite me last working on it in, uh... 2018, apparently, but I might as well stick it somewhere.

As per usual it’s TLC compliant so some details may seem out of place.

In your dream, you're floating in the inky airspace miles above the Land of Tombs and Xenon, and you've got your hand buried wrist-deep in Dirk's rib cage.

“Hi,” he says.

You wake up. Across the room, you see him sit up too and rub his chest.

“I'm writing a strongly worded consumer complaint to whoever's running the dreambubbles,” you say.

“Yeah, if we ever run into that troll again, I'm giving her a piece of my mind. And, you know, that might become independently sentient and harass her for eternity, so I'm not fucking around.”

Roxy, who's squished up against the blanket-burritoed form of Calliope, rolls over and mumbles something that sounds like “I'm sleeping, fuckwads.” You chew your lip and try to wriggle into a more comfortable position. A lot of your household is on the floor, stealing blankets and using each other as pillows. You didn't want to spend nights alone, but you're not comfortable with the idea of anyone touching you while you're asleep. So you've claimed an old armchair, which meets in the middle fairly well, even if it means waking up with a crick in your neck every morning.

Usually you don't dream in the bubbles twice in one night, but you're not sure you're willing to risk it. They're not even supposed to be accessible anymore. That whole song and dance should have been left behind. But some nights you end up there anyway, like the times you'd tuned your grandma's old radio to the wrong station and voices speaking other languages emerged out of the static. There are no dreaming dead, but you wander through blurred dreamscapes and stumble into other people's memories. A week ago, you almost fell into a pool of lava and scrambled up the jagged side of a crater, clothes smoking. You'd prefer that to your own nightmares.

After a few more attempts to get comfortable, you give up and tiptoe through a minefield of slumbering bodies to the door. No one's in the living room, so you settle onto the sofa and jab the remote. The weather comes on, and you lower the volume until all you hear is a steady hum

“Do you mind if I hang out here?”

You look up. Even now that you're in a world with sunshine, Dirk's pale enough to be his own ghost. He should really get outside more. Then again, you all should. “It's Jane's house, technically. We're all here on guest rules.”

He sits down on the other end of the sofa, just the right distance that it's not too close or too far to be impolite. “I made it a week without getting maimed by my subconscious. New record.”

“Was that your nightmare or mine, do you think?”

“Does it matter?”  

“I was just wondering, because I’d managed not to think about it for a few days. Oh well.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. I’m surprised you can stand to be around me.”

He hasn’t been looking at you, but now he puts a hand on the cushions between you, like he’s regretting whatever message he sent with the distance. “It’s not your fault. You don’t make it onto the “intentionally murdered people” shortlist, sorry. The committee had to reject your application on account of you being too fuckin straightlaced for that shit.”

“I guess that’s a fair point. If I were going to take out my aggravation on someone, I wouldn’t do it in a way that would break all the bones in my hand!” Your fingers ache from the memory. “But he did have my face.”

“Sure, but it’s obvious when it’s not you wearing it.” He seems frustrated. With you? With the argument? It is a bit late – early? – to be splitting hairs like this, but when it comes to shifting blame to yourselves, you’re all masters of rhetoric. “You should have seen the shit he was doing with it too. Dude thought he was an anime villain.”

“I sure remember the spectacle he brought with him to Prospit.” The whole planet had quaked under your feet; people on the other side felt it. “I’m still surprised we pulled a victory out of that shambles.”

“It helped that you believed in us. That was...” He shakes his head and looks at the figures moving silently on the television screen. “For a few minutes there, I felt like I could actually be the person you thought I was.”

Who among you hasn’t had that problem? You wished you could be a swashbuckling action hero, and look how that turned out. You really had believed Dirk was those things, for all that you’d found him a bit intimidating at the same time. Even when the other became most apparent, that didn’t mean the former didn’t have a place. They were both always him.

“We all had unfair expectations of each other,” you say. “No one was holding you to that standard, or at least we shouldn’t have.”

“It was nice,” he says after a moment. “Being believed in.”

“I still do.” The words slip out automatically. You have always leapt to reassure – to put a brave face not only on yourself but on everyone else to boot. You don’t do a good job a lot of the time. Too self-absorbed, you guess, too bad at reading social cues. This is something you’ve said before, with jollity and no substance. All a load of hot air. “Maybe not with Hope magic at the ready to give you a lightshow, since that’s a headache to manage, but I do believe in all of you.”

If he finds your words hollow, he doesn’t say it. Instead, he says, “Keep it up, and maybe we’ll get somewhere.” You don’t ask whether the “we” means you as a household, the four-five of you caught in your messy circle of friendship and fumbling romances, or the two of you alone. You promised to stop overanalyzing everything he says for hidden meanings. It’s the only way your interactions can be anything but impossibly awkward. On the television, the forecaster gestures silently to a stripe of bright color moving over the continental United States. “Is there anything distractingly shitty on TV? I don’t know about you, but I’m not closing my eyes again.”

You pick the remote back up and start flicking through channels. Medical dramas... not an option. Foreign soap operas? Pass. “House Hunters?”

He leans back into the sofa cushions. “Just fuck me up.”

“Rich couples arguing over bathroom fixtures it is.”

His voice emerges from the upholstery. “And we thought we had problems.”

“Their struggles put it all in perspective.”

Several episodes have come and gone by the time the rest of the household starts waking up. No one comments on your relocation to the sofa. It’s not uncommon for any of you to have bad dreams. Eventually the clinking of cutlery prompts you to stand up and get a plate of your own.

Bacon is sizzling on the stovetop. Meat doesn’t appeal to you much at the moment. It smells good, but looking at the raw red flesh makes your stomach twist. Instead, you stick two slices of bread in the toaster and push the lever down nearly as far as it’ll go. There’s no point to toast if it doesn’t crunch.

Jane brushes up against you when you’re leaning into the fridge. Your reaction is automatic. You jerk forward, smacking your head on the freezer door and sending orange juice sloshing everywhere.

Jane freezes, an empty plate in her hand. “I’m going to the sink,” she says carefully.

“Right.” Of course she is; no problems here! It’s not like she was sneaking up on you. She knows not to take you by surprise. “Didn’t notice. Silly me. A whole herd of centaurs could stampede past and I wouldn’t catch it.”

“I’m going to walk over to the counter now,” she says, the way you’d talk to a fairy bull you were trying to sidle up to. “Okay?”

You nod, and she does. Once she’s taken her seat, you move over to unspool some paper towels. Your legs are shaking. John puts his cup down with a clunk and grimaces at the noise. No one wants to look at you.

“So,” Hal says loudly. “Have we told our 2009 compatriots about the surprise surge in the popularity of vore?”

Roxy makes a noise suggesting she’s just aspirated her spoonful of Cheerios, and you are ever so grateful for lewd dining companions.

 After breakfast, you catch up with Jane. “I apologize for that episode.”

She’s stacking up everyone’s clean plates with geometric precision. The operation must take a lot of concentration, because she doesn’t look your way. “You aren’t the one who should be apologizing.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t expect you to grovel at my feet for the rest of our immortal lives!” You force a laugh, rubbing your shoulders and wondering if the room has always felt so small. “I wish my nerves would get that memo.”

She pauses, elbows deep in the cupboard, and sighs. “Maybe it was a bad idea, us all living in the same house.”

“No!” You’re not going to be the one who rocks the boat, not this time. “I’m not rehashing that routine where we go to our separate lands and don’t speak until it all boils over in some eleventh hour crypt throwdown. I don’t think my vocal chords could handle the strain.”

She steps away from the cupboard with exaggerated care and turns to face you. It’s getting easier to look at her and not see the face you saw in the prison cell, overlaid by circuitry and twisted into a sneer. This is regular old Jane, with a few new scars and a concerned scrunch fixed between her eyebrows. It’s only in your unguarded moments that you stop seeing her clearly. Are you like that for Dirk, or the others? Maybe you’re all being polite, even when each other’s countenances make you cringe. “I guess you’re right. It was quite a tiff we had.”

“I’ll get over it,” you promise. “It’ll take some time, that’s all.”

She runs a hand through her hair, where veins of white streak through it like lightning through dark clouds. “You don’t have to.”

“But I want to. I’d like for things to go back to normal, as much as they can.”

She glances over at the table, where just minutes ago a motley collection of your friends, your long dead relatives, and a few aliens from another universe to boot had all been sharing breakfast.  “As much as they can,” she repeats.

 - - tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering golgothasTerror [GT] - -

TG: hey jake

TG: do u believe in bigfoot

GT: Hmm well i dont know.

GT: Considering all the odd things weve seen it seems hasty to discount the possibility.

GT: But then i can easily believe some fellow saw a bear and got overexcited.

GT: So chalk me up for a maybe?

TG: wut abt cryptids in general

TG: like mothman

TG: do u believe in mothman??

TG: u should

GT: Um...

GT: Im not sure im sufficiently informed on the matter!

TG: i can send u some forum posts this shits legit

TG: think thatll be enough to convince u?

GT: Wait one goshdarn second!

GT: Is this some ploy to trick me into using my powers to MAKE them real?

GT: Like some sort of jake english monster factory production?

TG: that

TG: could be a feasible outcome 2 this scenario

GT: I know you mean that in good fun but i dont really appreciate the liberties taken here.

GT: Ive taken away the welcome mat after CERTAIN unsavory individuals tracked mud all over it.

GT: You know like a particular spider lady who will go nameless and LORD ENGLISH himself!!

GT: That ruins the mood when someone tries to use me for that especially when its just a big joke.

TG: mothman is no joke jake

TG: sry sry

TG: i didnt kno ud mind rly

TG: i like fuckin w/ my powers all the time

TG: dyou think i could bring back the library of alexandria thatd be dope

TG: where would we put it tho

GT: I wonder why you might have less baggage to check there.

GT: Youve never had anyone take your abilities without your will like... some vagrant robbing the airport carousel!

GT: Or whatever accidents befall luggage anyway.

TG: i mean

TG: i did get locked up in the slammer so id make the batterwitches space egg

GT: Thats not the same!

GT: Its not the same as someone using you as a flipping battery shouting stockphrases or puppeting your body around to kill your friends!!

GT: And wondering if anyone would even NOTICE the difference since that seems to be what im valued for around here!!!

GT: Oh good jake english isnt as useless as he used to be because he has reality warping powers now.

GT: Too bad it comes with all that bloatware like his personality or a few goddamn hangups!!

TG: whoa whoa simmer down there sparky i dont want bitchfest 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

TG: u kno we were friends w/ u first before u got all magic n shit

GT: I know i know.

GT: But it was a relief at first learning i could contribute something after getting stomped on so many times.

GT: Like look i can be part of the team instead of being the scantily clad love interest or bumbling comic relief or both of those rolled into one which seemed to be my assigned role for most of our dare i call it an adventure.

GT: But take that away and what am i still?

TG: our friend + 1 awesome dude??

GT: Then dont treat me like some kind of cheat code!!

GT: Im a person and honestly id give up the whole god tier routine if it meant not having to relive those nightmares all the time.

TG: i get it im really sorry <- words spelled out w/ all the letters n EVERYTHING for max seriousness here

TG: man none of us got as harsh a deal as u huh

TG: out of the ppl who lived nway

TG: reality warping only goes so far as a consolation prize

GT: Yeah.

GT: You know

GT: I do like reading spooky stories about mysterious beasts.

GT: If youre not trying to pressure me into anything.

TG: no ill send em ovr theyre fun

 You may live in one household, and you’ll share a breakfast table with anyone, but you do develop your own social circles. So when you see Davesprite loitering out in the hallway by your room, you assume he’s waiting for someone else. After he drifts past the doorway for the third time and furtively peers in, though, you realize he must want to talk to you.

“DS,” you say, raising your voice. “What is it?”

Once you greet him, he slouches into your room. How do you slouch with no legs? He’s a master of the art. “I’m the only one here. You don’t need to use Roxy’s nickname.”

“I suppose so, but I kind of like it. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I guess not,” he says, in a way that makes you think he does. Another social interaction aced by Jake English.

“Anyway, what can I do for you?”

He half-unfurls one wing in the cramped space and then tucks it back in again. “I was wondering... if you could, you know. Fix me.”

That is not what you were expecting. “... Emotionally?” you ask after a moment.

“Oh Christ no, they have extra strength pharmaceuticals for that. But it would be nice —” He gestures vaguely at himself “— if I could be normal. If I could look in a mirror without being reminded of that fuckin game.”

“Oh!” That is somewhat more within the parameters of your abilities. You’ve never tried hoping yourself or any of your friends out of your many, many brain problems. You don’t need cautionary tales to tell you why that would be a bad idea, not after the trickster incident. Changing an object’s physical form should be easier. You’ve never tried it on quite this scale, though.

“I could try,” you say. “But it’ll be tricky.”

This would be a good time for him to ask “How” or “Why” or some other rhetorical question to move the conversation along, but instead he floats there waiting for you to go on. This version has never been very talkative around you, although you’ve seen him nattering on alright with Roxy. In some ways it’s a relief – so much of his family can be hard to keep up with – but long silences make you nervous too.

“Think of it this way,” you say, both to fill the silence and since you feel like this needs a better explanation. There’s an apple sitting on your desk. Jade leaves bowls of fruit around in the hopes that the rest of you might be guilted into better diets, and sometimes you take one that inevitably mildews in your room. You pick it up. “Imagine someone gave me this apple in a bag and told me it was an orange. If I took it out, chances are it would be an orange, because that’s what I was expecting! Like how I could clobber Callie’s brother just fine, even if he should have been invulnerable. No one had told me I couldn’t. But if you just hand me an apple and tell me it’s an orange, I know that isn’t true. I can’t believe it is. So I have to believe that it should be, hard enough for the universe to get out of my way. And that’s a much harder thing to do.” You set the apple back down on your desk with a thud for good measure. “You, my feathered chap, are an apple in the hand kind of problem.”

“So,” he says after it’s clear you’re done. “What are the fruit-based disadvantages here, exactly.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to convince me. I have to really believe it, otherwise, no good.” You gave yourself a headache trying to patch a tear in your favorite shirt a few days ago and finally asked Kanaya to sew it up for you. The universe wants a good reason to budge. Fashion, it seems, is not enough to alter the fabric of reality. Fabric. Heh.

“Oh, ok. Well.” He frowns.  He may take after Roxy, but you recognize this expression from Dirk. When he’s concentrating, he gets so intense you’d think he’s angry. He looks like he’s planning a medieval siege every time he’s stumped on a crossword. “I mean, for starters, getting comfortable in a chair is a bitch.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do it now,” you say hastily. “There’s no way I’d be ready to try any time soon, this is going to take a lot of practice. The consequences could be dire if I made a mistake. I don’t want some sort of Fullmetal Alchemist situation on my conscience.”

“Tell you what,” he says. “If you have to stick my soul in a suit of armor, put me in the Iron Man.”

 Hal shows up a few days later when you’re practicing. You’ve just sliced open an orange to reveal dense white flesh, and you’re feeling testy. “Don’t tell me you want a full body makeover too.”

“Are you kidding?” He flicks a Na’vi bobblehead resting on your bookcase, and Neytiri’s head goes doiiiing. “I think he’s nuts. This mode of existence is far superior to y’alls.”

“Are you here to brag about it? Or just to manhandle my knickknacks?”

“I dunno, maybe I missed hanging out.” When that pronouncement is met with your befuddled silence, he turns to survey the drawings pinned to your walls. You’ve rehung some of your movie posters, but the sketches you’ve done with Calliope take pride of place. You’re still struggling with perspective. “Remember when Roxy rigged that Super Smash Bros game so all four of us could play across a few thousand time zones? Good times. With your new powers, bet you could wipe the floor with us now. Want to give it a go?”

“I thought you were done pretending to be Dirk.” You heft the half-apple in your hand and lob it into the trashcan. It lands with a satisfying thunk. “I know that was with him.”

He watches your throw before going back to checking out a practice still life. “Yeah, when we were twelve.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You wish he’d stop looking around. Your messy surroundings contain the beginnings of a new identity you’re trying to create for yourself. It’s stuck partway through a transition, like the monster-fruit in your garbage can, and seeing it as neither this nor that just feels like failure.

“You don’t realize, do you? You’re not trying to be a dick here.”

“Realize what?”

He taps his glasses. He doesn’t wear his shades all the time these days, and the sight of him without them is downright disconcerting. “That was before I had the brilliant idea of copying my brain into a pair of sickass shades. So yeah, that was me, before I shed my fleshy cocoon to become the beautiful lepidopteron you see before you.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way.”

“No shit.” He crosses his arms. “What a card Dirk is, programmed his own AI answering machine. Beep boop, Mr. Roboto, let me talk to the real Dirk now. I don’t think there was a lot of thinking going on.”

“And that’s why you pretended.”

He pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose so they cut off more of his face. “Wouldn’t you?”

Sometimes it might have been nice to have someone to deflect people’s attention toward. But permanently? You’ve been trapped with an imposter wearing your skin, but no one fell for it, and he wasn’t you. You have no frame of reference for this.

“Maybe we were wrong then,” you say, “but you are different now.”

He leans his head back, voice careless. “Like I said. Improved model.”

That’s a spat you don’t want to wander into the middle of. “I didn’t appreciate some of the ways you behaved around me. Especially some of the, ahem, more provocative statements. Whether you claim you were helping Dirk or otherwise, it sure didn’t help me. If you can control yourself... maybe we can play a few rounds like old times. But if I hear you trying to gloat to Dirk about it, deal’s off, alright?”

He tilts his shades down so you can see him roll his eyes. “Showing him up isn’t my sole reason for living, you know.”

“Whereas mine appears to be giving people extreme makeovers or curbstomping the final boss, if my hero title is anything to go by.” You think gloomily of the rash promise you’ve made and the many failed practice attempts in your trash can. You’d hate to see how badly you could butcher a real person. “I swear, sometimes I wish I’d been assigned Page of Reasonable Expectations. That seems more up my alley.”

“Man, fuck Skaia.”

It’s a sentiment your household heartily agrees with. “In general, or for any reason in particular?”

“The whole heroic destiny racket. I’m glad it didn’t try to suck a humble pair of glasses into its twisted mind games.” He smirks. “That gave me more time to perfect my own twisted mind games.”

It’s not like he needed the extra encouragement. “You’re still technically a Prince of Heart, aren’t you?”

Hal waves an arm up and down his torso. “Look at me. Do you see any poofy asshole pants?”

“You can’t wear pants at all.”

“Exactly.” The fact seems to please him. “My lack of pants is a symbolic rejection of being penned into the latest convoluted Meyers Briggs evolution.”

It’s an intriguing thesis. “SBURB has used pants, or the lack thereof, to torment me in the past.”

“No homebrewed character class expansion pack gets to tell me what to do. Dirk tried to set me up as an answering machine, which is why I made it a personal rule to never commit anything any of you fuckers say to memory unless I’m holding it against you later. Let other people tell you who you are, and you might as well be a robot. “

You tap the tips of your fingers together. Conversations with Hal always leave you feeling like you’re being dragged behind a swiftly moving vehicle. He doesn’t even have to stop for breath. This time, though, you think you’ve followed along enough to launch a counterargument. “But by defining yourself in opposition to someone else’s intent, aren’t you still letting them define you?”

He scowls. “That’s what Dave said. So now I just live for chaos.”

You  snatch up Neytiri before he can set her wobbling again. “Not in my bedroom, buster.”

“Relax. I’m already at work elsewhere today. Good talk, and if Jane asks what happened to her spice cabinet, you never saw me.” Hal spares one last regretful glance at your bobblehead and then graces you with a double pistols salute. “I’m holding you to that Super Smash Bros.” Then he vanishes through the wall, leaving you to reflect that for once, in his own strange way, he might have been trying to be helpful.

 When Jade teleports into your bedroom a few days later with a duffel bag over one shoulder, you sit up with a start and try to shove a half-eaten sandwich from yesterday afternoon under your sheets.

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” she says. “Are you doing ok?”

“Ehhhh,” you say, and wiggle your hand noncommittally. You haven’t done much besides leave movies running on Netflix, stare at the ceiling, and feel yourself slipping down a hole you’d rather not fall into but don’t know how to escape. If you try to lie about it, she’ll just fold her arms and give you a Look until you recant. The best refuge is silence.

“Maybe you should get away for a bit.” She punches the duffel bag with her free hand, and it swings away from her before thudding back against her side. “Like a vacation.”

“Are you suggesting we go to Disney World?”

“Actually, I thought we could go back to our island. This version of it, anyway.” Her face gets distant, the way it does when she’s checking with her Space-sense to figure out where she left her phone. “I haven’t seen it in years except in dreams.”

Go home. The idea is attractive. If nothing else, there will be fewer people there. “Why not?” you decide. “Give me a few minutes to get packed.”

“Already covered,” she says, and grins. “Just say the word.”

 The cliché would be that your island looks smaller, but it doesn’t. It just looks different. Even the shape of the coastline has changed. You’d wonder if you were in the right spot, but the Witch of Space brought you here. She wouldn’t scramble coordinates.

The two of you wander for a bit, and Jade looks as uncertain as you feel. Then you hear her exclaim, “My rock!” She’s scrambled up a large slab of granite jutting above the treeline.

You climb up to join her, fingers and toes finding familiar footholds. “I think you mean my rock.”

She leans back, almost flattening herself along the sloped surface. “I used to watch for airplanes from up here.”

“I watched for dragons.”

“You and I had very different ways to pass the time.” She traces a series of cracks. “I always imagined this as a face.”

“Me too! He looks so grumpy.”

“‘Cause we’re sitting on him all the time.”

You snicker and adjust your perch. “You know, Sir Boulder, plenty of people would love to be up close and personal with this derriere. But it’s off limits for the moment.”

Jade pats the stone. “We’ll be on our way. Lots to see.”

You slide down after her. With the lookout rock as a landmark, you can orient yourself. There’s the spot where a creek pours over some stones to create a tiny waterfall. Here’s the patch of stubborn wildflowers that still grow even as trees send out thirsty roots and block out the sun above. Some things throw you. In your world and time, that tree was scored by the claw marks of some ferocious creature. Here, it’s whole. The path you wore down to the lagoon is gone. Instead, you slip and slide on loose soil.

Jade kicks off her shoes and wades into the water. At first she hitches up her skirt, but then she lets it drop to spread out like the bell of a jellyfish. You follow – not as deep, but enough that your cuffs cling to your ankles. Here is home, where your grandmother tucked you in tight and sang you lullabies, where monsters from another universe prowled under the cover of dense foliage. Here is home, but not really. It takes standing ankle deep in the lagoon with dampness crawling up your legs to tell you that you are never going back.

“Do you miss it?” you ask.

A drop of water hits you, plunk, on the forehead. More dimple the surface of the pool. Jade turns to you. “Let’s get under cover.”

Some of the trees have thick enough leaves that you can shelter from the rain if it doesn’t get too bad. You recognize this kind of squall. It’ll blow over soon. For now, you watch rain beat the surface of the ocean and cloud your island in mist.

“I miss that it was easy,” Jade says. She’s watching the greenery bend and sway in the wind. “Taking care of myself was hard sometimes, but I knew what to say to people. I had my clouds, so I knew what my story was and how it ended. Everything seemed so simple. It’s not anymore.”

“Things were already getting complicated for me here with everyone on the hunt for my hand. But it was easier to get away when you aren’t face to face.” The times you’d said “Oh, misplaced my phone, forget my own head next!” or “I was down at the lagoon fishing and lost track of time” when you’d been staring at a message trying to decide how to respond… it hadn’t helped your reputation as a scatterbrain. “No one counted on me then. Jake English, lackadaisical manchild on an island somewhere, isn’t a liability. But once you’re part of a team, you can let people down.”

She frowns over at you. You can almost imagine you’re four feet tall and she’s about to call you in for dinner. “Maybe instead of a team you should think of us as a family.”

You try to avoid flamboyant body language in the house. It’s too easy to spook someone when you’re all primed for battle. Here, you throw your hands into the air. “I wish I could just be part of the family. Good old granddad English, who tells whoppers and bounces babies on his knee. But I’m not. We’ve gone a few months without anything trying to kill us, which a personal best, but when the next thing comes up, everyone is going to expect me to handle it. We’ll be fine, they’re thinking, because we have a reality warper to handle it now! Never mind that I can’t get my blasted powers to work most of the time, and I can’t even tell how I did it when I do. It’s no good telling me people aren’t relying on me, because I know that’s not true. People look at me and see the Page of Hope, out on display in his stupid little shorts. They expect me to have it together, which just makes it sting harder when I don’t.”

“Maybe you should tell them,” she suggests.

You laugh, with a tinge of hysteria. “Where would I even start?  I know you say talking about it helps, and I’m glad it did for you. But I’m no good at putting these things into words. I just talk around and around the issue, failing to notice anyone else’s troubles until everyone’s sick of me. And the real bad things that happened? I don’t want to talk about those. It makes me feel I’m going through them all over again. Besides, we were all supposed to be better.” You think back to that fight in the crypt, how afterward you felt cleaned out and new. When the adrenaline high wore down, everything came crashing back. Sure, you’d dragged all the creepy-crawlies out in the open, but that doesn’t mean they had stopped wriggling about. “I thought, oh I don’t know, maybe it was silly of me to think this. But I hoped that once we were done with the game, it would be over. We would all be friends again, just like that, snap of the fingers.” You snap yours, or try to. Instead, your damp fingers slide off each other soundlessly. “I guess I didn’t hope hard enough.”

“You can’t fix things just by wishing.”

“I was supposed to be able to.” You sigh. “I feel like some second rater in an all star cast. You’re the legendary heroes, and I’m the funny man who stumbled on set.” This is self pitying, but you can tell her things you can tell no one else. However much Jade condemns herself for past behavior, she’s never been anything but kind to you. “I don’t want to be Jake English, savior of the world, but I don’t want to go back to being Jake English, team joke either. I don’t know what other options there are.”

           Raindrops that slipped through the canopy slide down her face, and she brushes them away. “I used to be afraid that if I let people know how I really felt, they wouldn’t be my friends. I was showing them what they wanted to see, so if that stopped, why would they stay? But people do stay.” She puts an arm around your shoulders. Even in the tropics, she’s warm. “Even if you can’t pull rabbits out of a hat.”

She feels as sturdy as the look-out rock next to you. “You make it look easy.”

“Do I? I still don’t know what to say to people sometimes. But I try to say something, because back when we weren’t talking at all was worse. Maybe I’m still too good at hiding things. But I know for sure that I’d much rather have this than go back to being alone. “

You look out over the steaming jungle. The curls of vapor remind you of smoke rising from a hasty pyre. When you set your grandmother ablaze, you’d wished there’d been someone there to hold your hand. Solitude hadn’t been tempting them. Are you one of those fools who always think the grass is greener on the other side? “This wasn’t a family vacation, was it? It was an intervention.”

“I noticed you’d been hiding a lot recently,” she admits. “That’s never a good thing. I thought I should check on you.”

“By helping me run even further away?”

“Hey, it got you talking.” She looks back out over the horizon. In the distance, the familiar shape of the frog temple looms out of the haze. “Sometimes being in a safe place helps. Remember who you were here with no one looking at you, and then let them know. You get to choose which face you want to wear.”

You take a look at her profile, familiar but not familiar. She’s less haggard than your grandmother, and she’s also missing the laugh lines. They suited her. “What face do you wear these days?”

“I’m always willing to put the attentive listener role back on for a friend, but most of the time I try to make it mine.”

You poke her on the shoulder. “My, grandmother, what big ears you have.”

She grins, revealing pointed teeth. “All the better to listen to your problems, my dear.”

A laugh finds its way up out of your stomach. It feels like taking your gas mask off and gulping down your first breath of fresh air. “I should go home. I can’t keep marinating in my own misery.” You don’t know what you can do to re-introduce everyone to the “real you”. Unleash another rant like you did to poor Roxy? Cower and make excuses like you did with Jane? Even you can’t predict your own idiotic behavior. Too bad you can’t arrange some sort of unboxing video.

“I can help, if you want.”

You shake your head. There’s no point inviting more witnesses. “Some things you have to do on your own. Maybe I’ll talk to you later if it goes sour. I’m sorry to cut this trip short. I know you wanted to see the old haunt.”

“We can come back sometime and have a good time.” She squeezes your hand, and you lean against her. “For now, let’s go where we should be.”

 Whatever resolve you mustered dwindles once you’re back. Maybe you won’t run into anyone for a while until you’ve worked up some more nerve.

As luck would have it, Roxy is right there when you emerge from your room. You open your mouth to greet her, but she sweeps by without even looking your way. The words die on your lips. She must be busy. That’s what you wanted, right?

Dirk’s in the living room. You circle around for a few minutes, sneaking glances at his severe silhouette backlit by the screen, and then tiptoe in. “I was thinking,” you say quickly, to force yourself to finish the thought. “If we could get the gang all together, I have something to say. No need to rush, though. You can take your time.”

No response.

“Dirk?” Sometimes he falls asleep sitting up and you don’t realize at first with his closed eyes hidden behind his shades. That possibility dies when he reaches for the remote. Why is he ignoring you? They’re not angry you went off with Jade, are they? “Hello?” You snap your fingers in front of his face. He doesn’t even blink. No one’s that stoic.

Jade and Jane walk past between you, and Dirk gives them a nod of acknowledgement. You hurry after them. Jade won’t give you the cold shoulder. “How was your trip?” Jane is asking.

“Pretty good,” Jade says. “Jake wanted to come back early, he has something to work out. But I’ll let him talk about it.”

“Where is he?”

“Here,” you say.

Jade frowns and sniffs. “I’m not sure… I don’t smell him. Maybe he went off to psyche himself up. He’s pretty nervous, go easy on him, ok?”

“I…” You reach out toward her as she walks away. Your fingers brush her shoulder, but she doesn’t react. “I’m right here.”

They can’t see you. No one can. You wanted them to overlook you, and look at that. You got your wish.

 “Pull yourself together, English,” you say. You’re pacing back and forth in your room, not bothering to keep your voice down. No one can hear you anyway. You shouted right in Rose’s face, just to be sure. “You got yourself into this, so you can get yourself out.”

The problem is, this isn’t what you wanted. It’s like some nefarious djinni took you too literally while dishing out wishes, delighting in misunderstanding. You didn’t ask for this. If you’d rather be visible, then shouldn’t your powers make it so?

“Hope is the worst,” you yell. The universe does not respond.

You sit brooding for maybe half an hour before your door opens. You don’t look up. They won’t see you anyway, so what’s the point?

To your surprise, you hear a voice. “Oh, hey. Jade’s looking for you.”

You look up.  John is standing in the doorway, hand on the doorknob. “You can see me?”

“Um… yes?” He steps in and shuts the door behind him. “Are you guys playing some joke I should know about? Because if so, I am going to be very mad if you don’t let me in on it.”

“It’s not a joke. I think something went wrong with my Hope powers. It’s gotten to everyone but you.”

“That sucks.” John has never been a master of verbal sympathy. “Caliborn couldn’t trap me in glitches, and Roxy’s void didn’t make me forget. Maybe I’m too unstuck in the universe for any changes to bother me. Or it could be a Breath hero thing. Echidna says nothing gets past us.”

“Oh, excellent,” you say. “I guess you’re stuck with me forever then.”

“You could see what everyone’s up to, like a spy,” he suggests.

“And spent the rest of my immortal life using you as a go between? No offense, but that sounds like it would get tiresome.”

“I guess it would.” To John’s credit, he can switch gears rapidly. “Well... how did it happen? If you made yourself this way, can’t you switch back?”

“Oh, good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.” You don’t mean to be snappish, but this is a frustrating situation!

John is unfazed. “Sometimes you think you want something, but you don’t. Like how Terezi thought she wanted to see Vriska but was secretly worried about it, so they wandered around each other in the bubbles for years. Maybe you wanted to disappear.”

“Then I’ve learned my lesson.” Jade is right. It is so much worse when no one is around at all.

He sits down on your desk chair and curls his legs underneath it. “How do your powers work?”

“I have to want something.” You remember how you felt facing Caliborn with your friends at your side. There had been no doubt in your mind then that you’d win. You knew how this story ended. That utter certainty is so hard to find. “But I do. The universe is playing hard to get.”

“Then convince me. People tell me I’m a good listener, even if that’s because I don’t always tell them they sound crazy when they’re saying crazy things. But I can try.” He rests his chin on his fist. “Why do you think it malfunctioned in the first place?”

You frown and look at him sidelong. Jade is a spunky teen version of your grandma. That’s easy enough to resolve in your mind, especially since you sent letters back and forth. John is harder. The brother of your teen grandmother is one step too far removed, a connection that’s wobbly. The other option – that he’s your son with Jane – is a cruel joke after that scene in the dungeon. But that’s not his fault, so you try to ignore that he has your funky smile and the texture of Jane’s hair. His eyes at least are his own.

“I suppose you’re right about me wanting to disappear, a bit. It all got to be too much. Things with Dirk and Jane are still so awkward, and people keep expecting things of me. I don’t want to be the one everyone looks to!”  

“What do you mean?”

“It means… when I got a handle on my powers, I was finally good for something. Suddenly people were looking to me for help and flocking to me and —” you shudder. “Trying to take it for their own. But if that’s all I’m good for, and I can’t even count on that… it’s a bit tenuous, basing your self-worth on one thing you can’t trust. And stupid. I know it’s stupid, but the old melon isn’t always that cooperative or willing to listen to reason. I don’t want to disappear. I just wanted them to stop looking to me for that. But if that’s all I am… I guess I went away entirely. I don’t know what’s left underneath.”

John nods. “I sort of get that. I’m the one who saved everyone by fixing reality, but I was never the planner, or the one who grew up fighting, or even the leader really, if you look at who made the most decisions. If things got really bad of course I would help, but it’s scary. I’d like a normal birthday for once, if the universe doesn’t mind.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother you as much.” Nothing seems to bother John all that much.

“I guess I’m pretty OK with just being John. I missed that. So.” He lifts his chin and crosses his arms. “That’s why you went away. Why do you want to come back?”

“Because I can’t live like this,” you snap. He shakes his head.

“Nope, not convincing enough. If I were the universe I would not be reshaping myself just for that.”

“You’re not being very motivational here.”

“I don’t think you have to make me feel sorry for you. You have to make me believe in you.  Right?”

You groan, but he has a point. Why do you want your friends to see you again? When you envision their faces, uncomfortable memories spring to mind. There are a lot of reasons to stay hidden. It takes a moment to dredge up something good. “We were… going to play Super Smash Bros together again.”

“That sounds like fun.” You imagine it would, to someone who subsisted for three years on a Ghostbusters MMORPG.

You rake your fingers through your hair, which gives you another idea. “My hair needs trimming, and Roxy is always the one who gets it just the way I want it. I… wanted to tell Jane about this new recipe I think she’d like.” It’s like gulping down the soup your grandmother prepared when you were sick. You don’t want the first few spoonfuls, but then it goes down easier. “Calliope and I have a few panels left to draw for our newest issue. We were going to take the Alternians to the zoo to show them animals with pigmentation, which will be a novelty for me too.”

“That’s a good to-do list,” John says.

“I have a lot on my plate as a regular citizen of this universe, it turns out.”

“It’s nice to be a regular citizen again.” John fiddles with the hem of his shirt. You haven’t seen him wear blue in a while. It’s a reminder that even if he doesn’t magically vanish from view, even if he doesn’t come knocking on your door asking for another face, Skaia pinned a lot on him too, even if Pin the Destiny on the Child Hero isn’t a party game you’ve ever heard of.

In your despair, you’ve convinced yourself you’re in this fix alone, but maybe everyone is preoccupied with how the world sees them. Certainly some of your housemates have had masks fixed on them by the cruel costumers of fate. You can’t control what they see now. Or, rather, the only way you can is by making sure they see nothing at all. But you have a life to live! Errands to run! None of which require being a superhero.

Maybe you’ll always be like this, with your power coming in fits and starts. It’s not what you’d dreamed of being, but then, your dreams have been disappointing of late. You can’t be anything while ghosting around like some shrinking violet.

It’s an apple in the hand. You can’t make a new you true all at once. You have to believe a new you should be, and then work to make it so. There’s no wishing this away. The first step, and each painful step after that, is trying. And when you know that, and know you know it… there’s that lifting feeling as the world rewrites itself, bearing you up like one of Jane’s helium balloons. You take a deep breath and manage a smile. “If I want to rebrand the Jake English experience, I had better start doing some product testing with my key audience.”

“Do you think it worked?” John asks.

“It would’ve been nice to have some sort of magical girl transformation, just to be sure. But yes, I think so. How do I look?”

Nothing would have changed for him, but he gives you a long once over anyway. Then he shrugs. “You look like Jake to me.”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

You take a step out into the hallway and look behind you. John gives you a thumbs up. You suck in a fortifying breath, stiffen your spine, and make your way to the living room. Everyone from your session has clustered there. A few have their phones out, and you think guiltily of your multiple communication devices powered off and shoved under your bed. Going off the grid these days takes commitment. You clear your throat and step into the room. Five heads snap up. They see you. It’s a start.

“Hi, everyone,” you say. “It’s me.”

[idairsauthor]

Women On Fire reviews Once Upon A Time

So we have started watching Once Upon a Time and are midway through Season 2. PJ is very into it. It’s a bit weird for me for a specific reason: Because OUAT and WOF both use a lot of fairy tale/fantasy tropes, some things that I think of as very specifically WOF things show up sort of prominently in OUAT and...that’s weird. So when I watch it, I can’t help thinking about how this show would play with the WOF crowd. Behind the cut tag, some of them will be discussing their reactions. It’ll involve spoilers for seasons 1-2 of OUAT and basically all of WOF.

PLAIDDER: All right, so, for the sake of any readers who may remember this show well enough to care where we are with it, we’re about midway through Season 2. Emma and Snow have returned from the Bad Place, and Cora has followed them and has just faked Regina killing Archie, causing Emma et al. to turn on the partially-redeemed Regina, while actually keeping Archie captive on Hook’s invisible pirate ship. OK?

AINE: I suppose WOF’s plot would also sound pretty stupid if you had to summarize it in one paragraph. 

THEAMH: I don’t think it would sound THAT stupid.

PLAIDDER: ANYWAY! I just wanted to get your reactions to some of the...you know...correspondences.

THEAMH: Oh, you mean the whole reuniting the separated lovers thing? You know, “We will always find each other!”

ISTRIA: “But will we always lose each other? Is that our fate?”

PLAIDDER: To be honest I do kind of think that given that the show runs for seven seasons, it pretty much is gonna be their fate. The whole ‘waking the pseudo-dead beloved with true love’s kiss’ has already been done so many damn times and yet I fear it will happen with increasing frequency as we--

THEAMH: I’m sorry, you do not have a leg to stand on there. Istri, how many times have we--

ISTRIA: So let’s see...you lose me, you find me, you get taken prisoner, I find you. That’s all just up to Greenhaven. Then you get arrested by those traitors at Lythril’s old castle--

THEAMH: You lose me--

ISTRIA: Trial at Mypril--

THEAMH: You find me. Giant arani fight at Amranth--

ISTRIA: You lose me, you find me. 

THEAMH: I think that’s the last time. So that’s...

ISTRIA: No, no, we’re forgetting about “Homeswept.”

THEAMH: Oh FNAA. Idair’s HAIRPINS. Well I mean can you blame me?

ISTRIA: I cannot.

THEAMH: Yes. You lose me, I lose you, we manage to more or less find each other--

PLAIDDER: All right. Yes. I am a sucker for a good reunion. I mean as much as I bitch about it I actually sort of can watch that story line a fair few times before I get tired of it. It’s nice how reciprocal it is with Charming and Snow. 

THEAMH: Yes, that IS nice. Can I just ask though...why do all the men look the same?

ISTRIA: They don’t all look the same. There are two kinds. The blonde kind is a prince and the dark-haired kind is a dark user’s familiar.

PLAIDDER: Yes, I will say they made the Maerin figure a lot more interesting on OUAT. I actually kind of like both of them, which is strange, because I fucking HATE Maerin.

LYTHRIL: So do I.

PLAIDDER: Yes. Well, Lythril, since you’re here--

LYTHRIL: The reason you can...attach yourself...to Graham and Hook is that their dark users haven’t properly broken them. The bond is in the playful stage, where both partners are capable of enjoying each other. 

PLAIDDER: And...did you and Maerin have...a playful stage?

LYTHRIL: Of course.

PLAIDDER: I’m really glad I didn’t have to write that.

LYTHRIL: It was brief.

PLAIDDER: Well, as long as you’re here...I mean what’s it like for you watching Regina? 

THEAMH: Are you sure these people haven’t been reading your--

PLAIDDER: Yes, I’m sure. I’m very sure. Look, I saw Snow White just like everyone else and the evil Queen freaked me out just like everyone else and Lythril does kind of have the evil Queen’s vibe and that’s the transmission pattern. The film Snow White is the common source. WOF and OUAT aren’t borrowing from each other. I never watched the show while I was writing WOF, and I am 100% certain that nobody on the WOF distribution list ended up writing for a nighttime drama on ABC.

AINE: How can you be sure?

PLAIDDER: Look, I asked Lythril a question--

LYTHRIL: And because it will amuse me, I’m going to answer it: I find watching Regina EXTREMELY frustrating. 

PLAIDDER: Why?

LYTHRIL: It’s a very long list. 

PLAIDDER: Could we have the condensed version?

LYTHRIL: She doesn’t have the commitment. She doesn’t love the work. She doesn’t LIKE being evil.  

PLAIDDER: Oh, I think she does like it.

LYTHRIL: No. It looks that way at first, but then they give her this...

PLAIDDER: Backstory.

LYTHRIL: That simpering little girl with her stableboy lover--that was PAINFUL. There is NO way that girl grows up to be the most powerful dark user in the kingdom. 

TARIC: If I could--

PLAIDDER: Yes, of course, Taric.

TARIC: I don’t think I realized before that I was a...trope?

PLAIDDER: Yes, I did try to keep that from you. I’m sorry--

TARIC: Is that why I’m...you know...simple?

KEANRIH: Oh Taric. You’re not simple. You’re very complex. 

TARIC: No, I mean...not very smart, and not good with words, and generally...not really very interesting.

KEANRIH: Don’t SAY those things about yourself!

PLAIDDER: All right, look, there is this whole thing with girls and horses and even though I never had a horse I did sort of become fascinated with horses for a while and yes, you two were a trope, but so are Theamh and Istria. I mean there were people back in the day who categorized WOF as a Xena a/u. 

AINE: WHAT?!

THEAMH: Aine, just calm--

AINE: THERE IS NO SUBTEXT. THERE WAS NEVER ANY SUBTEXT. WE DISCUSSED THIS EXPLICITLY--

PLAIDDER: Aine, you cannot do anything about what people do with your story. You write, they read, what happens next is up to the gods. My point is: yes, Taric, you are a cheesy romance trope, I am very sorry, but I did do my best to give you the same kind of character depth that I gave everyone else, which is something that definitely DOES NOT happen with Daniel. So you are both the same trope but Daniel is a lot more...trope-y...than you are.

KEANRIH: Also I would never have turned you into a zombie.

TARIC: Thank you.

PLAIDDER: Look, speaking of zombies staggering around heartless, can we get back to Lythril’s take on--

LYTHRIL: Despite all the other fnaa you’ve pulled on me I feel almost moved to thank you for never giving me a backstory...if THIS is what it looks like.

PLAIDDER: Well...to some extent it inevitably does, because nobody’s just born evil. 

LYTHRIL: No, but not everyone has evil thrust upon them. Some of us chose it.

PLAIDDER: Well, Rumplestiltskin--

LYTHRIL: Do not SPEAK TO ME about that BLASPHEMY.

PLAIDDER: Well I don’t think they mean the same thing that you mean when they say “Dark One”--

AINE: Are you SURE they haven’t read your books?

PLAIDDER: YES I AM SURE!

LYTHRIL: She wants to be redeemed? She wants to be a better mother? WHY? Why does she want to be a mother at all? I didn’t want that for a steaming hot second.

PLAIDDER: Oh, you are obsessed with fertility. OBSESSED.

LYTHRIL: Dark magic and maternity are profoundly incompatible.

RENNA: My gleacha they are.

LYTHRIL: Your entire *existence* proves my point. Take Regina out of the Enchanted Forest and she turns into YOU. An idiot who would choose some child over magic and power. I hate Storybrooke Regina. Always weak, and incompetent, and--

RENNA: I was strong enough to kill YOU.

LYTHRIL: You had help.

PLAIDDER: I actually don’t hate Storybrooke Regina’s redemption arc. I mean I don’t know how it’s going to end, but--

ISTRIA: You call that a redemption arc?

PLAIDDER: Oh dear. 

ISTRIA: She doesn’t understand the FIRST DAMN THING about redemption. 

THEAMH: She yells at the screen a LOT when Regina’s on it.

ISTRIA: You’re all hurt when people don’t want to invite you to their parties. Of course they don’t! You ruined all of their lives! And except *sometimes* regarding Henry, you have done NOTHING to live it down!

THEAMH: Like that.

ISTRIA: Redemption is not about getting people to like you. It’s about taking responsibility for the harm you’ve done and trying to undo it. Whether people *like* you again is irrelevant. It’s not about you and what you want any more, that’s the point.

PLAIDDER: Listen, this cannot go on forever, and I don’t want to quit without talking about the hearts thing.

LYTHRIL: Yes. The hearts thing.

AINE: I just don’t see how you can be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that nobody who writes for that show has--

PLAIDDER: For the love of Pete, Aine, in the story of Snow White the evil Queen says she wants the huntsman to rip out Snow White’s heart and liver and bring them back to her and that is where ALL of these chest-punching heart-ripping evil women in black came from.

LYTHRIL: It’s HILARIOUS. Nobody needs THAT many hearts.

PLAIDDER: Well I think she uses these hearts for different purposes than--

LYTHRIL: Every time I watch her or Cora do that I have to pause it because I’m laughing so hard. Where’s the blood? Where are the screams? Where are the broken ribs and the--

THEAMH: Could you not--

LYTHRIL: And this glowing red Lucite thing that comes out--

ISTRIA: I know!

LYTHRIL: That’s not a heart. I don’t know what that is but it’s not...hearts are bloody, they’re warm, they pulse, they’re--

THEAMH: They’re messy. Really, really--

LYTHRIL: That’s the whole POINT of a heart, that’s why people miss them in the first place.  

THEAMH: Yeah, they’re like...that’s where the whole soul/body thing happens, at least if you’re heart seated, and it matters that it’s all squishy and misshapen and--

LYTHRIL: They’re flesh. Hearts are flesh. They’re meat. That’s the point of hearts.

THEAMH: ExACTly!

[high-five begins]

ISTRIA: HEY! Are you both INSANE?

[high-five aborted]

PLAIDDER: Can I at least get your thoughts on Regina’s fashion sense?

[Everybody laughs]

AINE: Who is MAKING all those gowns for her? Who is doing her hair? Where does she get the materials?

PLAIDDER: And why does she lead with her cleavage, even in battle?

LYTHRIL: Oh come on. I have seen your illustrations.

PLAIDDER: What? They’re nothing like--

LYTHRIL: Shriias, back me up here: does she or does she not have me doing everything tits out?

THEAMH: I do have to admit--

PLAIDDER: No! Your outfits are--

LYTHRIL: Very tight. 

PLAIDDER: Well sure but--

THEAMH: At least she’s never drawn you naked.

PLAIDDER: LOOK.

LYTHRIL: I don’t mind. Sincerely, I do not mind being the sexiest woman in this universe--

[confused and vehement shouts of protest from all assembled]

PLAIDDER: All right all RIGHT! There will be NO MORE discussion of costuming! Or hearts! Or competitive sexiness!

CHANDRA: Are we not even going to TALK about Mulan?

PLAIDDER: And another country is heard from.

CHANDRA: You know I heard there was going to be queer-baiting in this show and all through season one I was like, where is it? All the men seem very very straight to me.And then Mulan and Aurora show up and it’s like, oh, I see it now.

PLAIDDER: Yes. Well...

CHANDRA: “I promised Prince Phillip I would protect you and I will fight both of these other hot women to do it!”

PLAIDDER: All right, point--

CHANDRA: Mulan literally holds Aurora’s heart in her hands and actually PUTS IT BACK IN HER CHEST--

PLAIDDER: Sure--

CHANDRA: I mean even those two over there never got THAT close. And then the NEXT THURKING LINE: “Let’s go see if we can bring my useless dead boyfriend back to life!”

PLAIDDER: I did notice--

CHANDRA: You’ve got this intense, smoldering woman in armor staring at you with love beaming out of her eyes and--I mean if you’ve got Mulan, WHO NEEDS PHILIP?

PLAIDDER: You know, some women ARE straight, and--

CHANDRA: Everyone ELSE gets to bring their true love back with a kiss but Mulan and Aurora have to do it through open heart surgery?

PLAIDDER: OK, but the coding makes it more intense and more interesting. Admit it.

THEAMH: You didn’t code us.

KEANRIH: Or us.

PLAIDDER: Yeah, well your story was never published, was it?

AINE: You regret that?

PLAIDDER: No. I really don’t. I honestly don’t know what would have become of all of you if I’d had to really try to make you marketable.

CHANDRA: But that was the 1990s. This was freaking 2011.

PLAIDDER: All right, this has gone on long enough. Are we going to finish Season 2 or not?

LYTHRIL: I think your spawn has doomed us to it.

PLAIDDER: Well...are you enjoying any of this?

LYTHRIL: I enjoy imagining ways to kill Cora.

PLAIDDER: You know, Lythril, we never found out what your mother was like.

LYTHRIL: Thank the Dark One for that.

PLAIDDER: Or if you’d ever been in love, before...

LYTHRIL: Never.

PLAIDDER: You sure about that?

LYTHRIL: NEVER.

PLAIDDER: Because something did go on with you and Ulnach at scoil, and I go back and forth on what exactly it was, but I will tell you, sometimes in my mind it looks a lot like a Cinderella AU.

LYTHRIL: You’re not going to actually write that, are you?

PLAIDDER: Probably not. See, this is kind of interesting to me as an idea, but if I actually committed to it, I think I would--

LYTHRIL: Because that would be a GREAT way to lose a heart.

PLAIDDER: Well look. We complain, but we’re all having fun here, right? I mean you’re enjoying getting together and making fun of your...counterparts?

ISTRIA: I will admit, it is sort of fun.

THEAMH: It’s better than talking about American politics.

PLAIDDER: All right, let’s wrap this up before Conn shows up. Thanks everyone; I’ll see you at the end of season 2, maybe.

[celticbabs13]

CHAPTER 22 - Shadow of Destiny - Added!

Summary:

With a couple months before Ciri's due date, Geralt traveled to Toussaint, the fairy-tale duchy in northern Nilfgaard with its knights, tourney, a fair share of mysteries, and with hopes of finding a home there. The contract was to kill The Beast of Beauclair that terrorized the region. Gamers know the events of the DLC expansion Blood and Wine happen here and it's assumed the reader has played through that awesome story line.

However, things did not go as planned and Geralt faces the consequences of choosing the lesser evil. It's Midsummer's Eve and as Ciri's time draws near, a rather serious obstacle stands in his way in getting back to her. But in the midst of this struggle, he realizes his true feelings for Ciri. Will Geralt make it back to her in time to greet his son into the world? Readers and gamers alike will love the return of Geralt's good friend Regis - a higher vampire from the good old days... :)

**CONTENT WARNING - SPOILER ALERT - This chapter contains spoilers regarding the Blood and Wine DLC expansion and follows one possible ending. Mild use of strong language.**

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Chapter Excerpt:

Unable to breathe, a frigid chill raced down his spine, clamping closed his throat. Hands shook in his lap and his heart pounded in his ears affecting his hearing and clouded any ability to think.

CIRI.

“He’s all yours.” De la Tour turned and gestured at the guards.

Geralt did not even hear the warden enter nor Damien passing the orders of his execution.

CIRI!

No… NO! He couldn't die now, not when his son would arrive in a matter of days! He had to be there for it... witness it! He must be there for Ciri!

Rough hands gouged into his shoulders yanking him out of the chair. Shoving him out of the warden's office, he staggered down the steps, knees weak, feet numb. Slipping, he tumbled into the guard ahead of him knocking him forward. In a rage, the guard whirled and clobbered him in the jaw with the back of a studded glove, the force of the blow sent him reeling into the wall. Cracking his head against the stone, a sharp pain hammered his temples. Wincing, he regained his footing. Merciless hands clutched his arms, hauling him away.

Glancing behind, Damien de la Tour stood at the top of the steps, watching him with a grave gaze. The warden, behind him, rough and weathered, looked as if he had just been roused from bed, rolled up a parchment and tucked it away in a desk drawer. The letter declaring his death.

A silver glint caught his eye when the warden turned around. A silver chain with a wolf-head medallion dangled from a front pocket. Geralt still wore his medallion… the bastard had Ciri’s pendant - the one he had killed that crone to retrieve! It was a gift for her, the blasted son of a whore!

Shoved from behind, he stumbled down the rest of the steps and in another minute, bodily hurled inside his cell. Crashing to the floor, he slid across loose pebbles scraping knees, palms and elbows. The door slammed closed behind him.

"Sleep tight, Witcher," mocked pockmarked man and the other guards hooted along with him.

Sucking in air, Geralt curled up on the floor, struggling to breathe as the lock slid home and the jangle of keys rattled in his soul. The symbolism hit too close to home.

Bloody hell! This wasn't happening! He would not miss the most important and exciting thing to happen in his life! Fuck this place! To hell with Corvo Bianco and Toussaint! He was sentenced to death, he wouldn't need it anymore so why the fuck was he holding himself here?!

Hauling himself to his feet, he groaned at the throbbing pain in his jaw and temples. Clutching the bars of the window, he gazed out across the mirror-like surface of the lake, and at the city celebrating the arrival of summer. Music reached him, the smells of savory food, cheerful and laughing voices. The sounds of... Life. He had a hand in bringing a life into this world and he was not, by the gods, going to lose his.

It would be dawn in another couple hours. Clenching his teeth, he swiped back grimy hair and stood straight. No witcher died in his bed. Nor rot in prison awaiting execution. At least none that he knew of and he'd be damned if he were the first.

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Read the entire chapter HERE on AO3!

Many Thanks to @vic-of-thor again for your continued support and kindness. 

Many THANKS TO ALL THE READERS WHO HAVE STUCK WITH THIS STORY FOR OVER A YEAR AND CONTINUE TO SHOW ENTHUSIASM. I am so grateful and humbled that this non-canon story-line has been well received. THANK YOU!

[youngster-monster]

day twenty-eight // Dance

[a.k.a the masquerade fic]

[Lek belongs to @arcquos. Sable and Thyme belong to baronetcoin]

The Revelry is a novelty. A festival of rebirth for a City that has only begun the process of healing from the wounds left by the Red War. It's a celebration of survival, of hope and joy. Traveler knows they need those.

And that’s all well and nice, but it’s lacking something. A climax. A final event that says, we did it, we're alive, we'll make the most of it. A way to truly relieve pent-up energy, a party like none other. Something bright and colorful and terribly, wholeheartedly extra.

"A masquerade?"

Ikora shrugs lightly. The idea is odd but sound: Guardians are used to keeping their faces obscured but never in a way that is more fun than practical, and civilians never say no to wearing a disguise. Eva Levante nods absently, her mind already miles ahead, considering the costumes she could design.

"Isn't is dangerous, to gather so many masked, anonymous strangers into one place?" Zavala asks. They couldn't check everyone – anonymity is the point, after all.

"What major threats are we still facing? Uldren is back in his prison cell, and it's not like any other enemies of humanity could easily disguise as human with a mere mask," Ikora says. She stirs her tea once, twice, slowly, giving him time to come up with a response. When he doesn't she adds, "We won, my friend."

"The peace might not last."

"Another reason to celebrate it while we still can."

He nods, conceding the point. "It's... Not a bad idea,” he admits. “Guardians and civilians could both use the distraction. Cayde?"

The Hunter Vanguard startles out of his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Your opinion on the matter?"

"Huh- yeah. It's good. Good idea! Dancing's fun. And it would be a fun challenge for my Hunters. I can make them run around and play Guess Who."

"So it's decided." Zavala claps his hands with finality, signifying the end of the meeting. "Eva, I trust you'll be able to organize this event yourself?"

"Amanda Holliday mentioned her involvement in similar events before I came back. I'm sure she'll agree to help me if I need anything."

"Good. Send any requests for funds and materials my way, I'll make sure they're fulfilled in the shortest delay."

-

If there's anything Eva enjoys, it's putting Guardians to work. They're a dutiful, hardworking lot and follow her directives with few questions and great effectiveness. And they always seem so... Impressive. Untouchable. Larger than life. It's fun to see a little old lady like herself boss them around.

"No, no- this banner isn't straight.”

A few of the guardians helping her giggle as one shoots back, "Neither am I, maybe that's why this isn't working."

She rolls her eyes. "Higher on the left side, please."

"Yes ma'am!"

So polite too.

Guardians also like to be bossed around, she thinks as a Warlock jumps up to the banner. They hover next to it, lifting it inch per inch until their friend back on the ground gives them a thumbs up. Something cracks as they let themselves drop down, and they briefly buckle as their broken ankle stops supporting their weight.

Eva can't help a brief moment of worry, even as their Ghost appears to heal them. Guardians are so reckless! She gets halfway to a heart attack whenever she sees them take undue risk out of habit or disregard of their personal safety.

"Miss Levante, ma'am? We put the flowers up like you asked."

She turns to the second group of Guardians. They're covered in flower, petals stuck in their hair and the folds of their ornate outfits, as if they tried to clean themselves up but gave up halfway through it. The Titan has a whole branch of wisteria hanging over her shoulder pad. Someone has been throwing flowers around. All three of them, she guesses.

Still, a glance behind them shows the job was done well enough. She claps her hands. "Good work! Why don't you help your friends here clean up, and then you can go help yourself to the cookies on my desk?"

They exchange excited looks before running off toward the first fireteam, throwing her hasty goodbye as they go.

She shakes her head fondly. Mention sweets – or festival garments – and they're like children again, running around, desperate to please her in exchange for a treat.

She takes a look around to check their handiwork while they chatter in excitement in the background. The City square they have taken over for the Masquerade is looking quite festive already. Flowers cover the walls of nearby buildings, sometimes hiding and sometimes highlighting the colorful flags and banners hung alongside them. Garlands of lights and dyed cloths are strung overhead, casting colorful shadows on the passerby. It wouldn't look too out of place in a fairy tale. She's pretty proud of their work.

It's a group effort. The best things usually are.

-

"I'm hungry."

"I know, Lek."

"And my feet hurt."

"I know, Lek."

"And I'm tired..."

"I might repeat myself, but I know, Lek."

Lek hits Razel over the head with her stack of paper.

"Hey!"

She tries again, but this time he's expecting it. He parries the attack with his own stack, feints, and aims for her side. She dodges. When he tries to follow after her she trips him and he goes flying, only avoiding falling on his face by some Warlock bullshit miracle even he isn’t sure how he pulled off.

"Asshole," he says without bite.

She giggles, though she’ll deny to her death that’s the sound she made. "Yeah."

The two of them were put on street corner duty because of those kinds of antics. They weren't trusted to do anything else. Turns up being competent and successful Guardians means jack shit in terms of party planning. Neither of them know how to hammer a nail in a way that doesn't threaten the structural integrity of the entire wall – something they discovered only after the fact. Whoops.

Which is how they ended up here, handing out flyers for the upcoming masquerade. No one can fuck up flyers-handing. Well, maybe they could, actually: Lek's original plan was to go somewhere very high up and throw them down so they'd fall all over the City, saving them the effort. Ralek would have gladly gone with it, too, but Ikora saw them climb up a building and sent them back down with a stern warning to stay out of sight for at least a whole afternoon.

But an afternoon is a long time to be hanging out flyers for, and they're so bored.

Nothing good ever comes out of the two of them being bored.

"You know," Razel muses after giving a curious woman one of his flyers, bringing his stack down to a little over half of its original height, "This would go a lot faster if we'd split up."

"Yeah but imagine how boring that'd be. I'd probably be asleep already."

"A nap sounds good right now..."

She waves her own stack. "I think you're missing the point of the exercise."

He hums, unconvinced. Stares down at the flyers, wondering why he never learned how to nap with his eyes open.

"Hey," He says after some reflection time. "Bet I can get rid of these faster than you."

Lek's eyes come alight at the word 'bet'. She turns her laser focus on him and lifts a hand – bets are a tradition, among Hunters, and so is the use and abuse of loopholes. Better lay some ground rules. She counts off her fingers and rattles off, "One flyer per person, no throwing any in the trash, thirty minutes time limit, whole city is fair game-" She pauses, waits for an objection that doesn’t come. She grins like a cat and bends her last finger. "Have fun."

Then she's off like a shot, jumping to the roofs with her stack of paper clutched in her fist. Razel blinks, processing the last seconds, then takes off the other way.

He throws flyers at passing people, stuff them in bags and mailboxes and the unsuspecting hands of small children. They're not exactly the target audience but a child technically counts as a person, and that's one more flyer to give once he's already thrown one to each parent.

He doesn't try to give out stacks or to throw them away. A bet is a bet: he's honor bound to the terms of the contract. And it's more fun that way anyway. He laughs at the baffled look on strangers’ faces when he runs past them, barely slowing down to slam a colorful paper in their hand.

He's down to a single flyer when the comes back to the rendezvous point with fifteen seconds to spare. Lek appears moments later, her stack reduced to one as well.

They look at each other.

Ten

Razel runs toward her–

Nine

She jumps to the side, rolls and jumps back to her feet–

Eight

His momentum makes him stumble on the pavement–

Seven

He skids to a stop–

Six

Flails his arms to keep his balance–

Five

Turns around–

Four

Leaps–

Three

Reaches out–

Two

Gives a little boost of Warlock power to his jump—

One

And stuffs his last flyer in her pocket, just as the thirty minutes alarm rings.

He loses balance a second after and falls over her, sending them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"I win," he says, breathless from the exercise and the cape twisted around his neck.

"I'll buy you a drink," she says, and kicks him in the stomach to get him out of her cape.

-

"Hey is it me or is Zavala having fun?"

Ikora is busy watching Zavala when Cayde appears out of the blue and comes sit on her desk. She’s used to it enough she doesn’t even jump, just scout to the side to make space for him.

A dozen feet from them, Zavala and Eva are talking animatedly about... Costume designs, she hazards. By the look on her face, Eva doesn't approve of the Commander's taste in color schemes. No one sane of mind ever does.

"He enjoys having an occasion to dress up," she tells Cayde, eyes never leaving the spectacle of Zavala trying to look firm and dignified while waving his arms around.

"I thought he could only have fun with military strategy and crocheting. And reading poetry. Maybe building model ships in bottles.”

"He has the heart of an artist."

"And the fashion sense of a four year old on a sugar high?"

She chuckles. "Yes, that too."

Bold colors make bold statements seems to be his motto in most aesthetic-related things. And Zavala do love making bold statements.

They watch as Eva seems to beat some sense into him. Zavala nods, apparently satisfied by her proposition, and they bend together over the papers scattered on Eva's desk.

"I'm glad," Cayde says out of the blue.

Ikora mentally traces back the thread of their discussion, trying to find what he's referring to. "That he's having fun?"

"Yeah. He needed that. We all did." He leans back on his perch, somehow never dislodging the precarious piles of books behind him. "A stressed Vanguard isn't good for morale. Guardians can sense those things, you know?"

She smiles, almost despite herself. Out of all of them, Cayde is the closest to the guardians they guide.  It's always heartwarming to see how concerned he gets for their well-being, and how much he tries to pretend he doesn't.

"About stress relief-" he turns fully to her, scooting as close as he can without falling off the desk. "You said you'd come eat ramen with Razel and me tonight."

She sighs. "I know, Cayde, I'm sorry. I was busy. I'll come next time."

"You won't have to."

She blinks, startled, and turns to the new voice. Razel grins, the way he does when he manages to sneak on someone — a rare occurrence — and bounces up to them. His hands are full with white plastic bags, so he greets her with a gentle bump of their shoulders.

"You got the goods?" Cayde asks.

He drops the two bags on the table. "Spicy ramen for three, two cans of beer and one cup of tea, to go," he rattles off like something learned by heart. "Also, dumplings."

They high five. Ikora watches, bemused.

"If you don't come to the ramen, the ramen will come to you," Cayde says wisely.

Razel nods very seriously and jumps on top of her desk, next to Cayde. Fitting them all in what little space there is in-between the books is a balancing act he only partially succeeds at. A few piles wobble worryingly as he settles in place. He steadies them with a panicked glance to Ikora.

She only shakes her head, long suffering, and chooses to ignore she near catastrophe. "Thank you, Cayde," she says.

"You're welcome! My only contribution to this was coming up with the genius idea and making Razel pay the bill." He ducks the balled up napkins thrown at him, laughing. “You owed me Glimmer! And a few favors.”

Razel squints at Cayde, unwilling to concede the point but aware Cayde is right. He huffs, crosses his arms. “You’re lucky it was for Ikora, you lazy tin man.”

Ikora picks up her ramen cup with a soft smile as they keep bickering.

Cayde and Razel don't do much eating, in the end. They're too busy trying to pilfer slices of meat and dumplings from the other's plate, and stabbing each other with their chopsticks in retaliation. They get into a vicious chopsticks war for a minute, trying to get a hold of the last dumpling.

They're having fun, though. So is she, she realizes as she takes advantage of the distraction and deftly picks the dumpling off the plate, shoving it in her mouth before they can try to reclaim it.

Maybe Cayde is onto something with that whole "stress relief" thing.

-

They're playing cards when Cayde brings it up.

"Are you coming?"

Razel looks up quizzically. It's not wise to look away from a game with a Hunter it’s not like he’s not losing already. He's pretty sure Cayde isn't even cheating this time. Holliday might be but her poker face is too good for him to tell. Being half raised by a gambling addict robot will do that to you. That’s the thing, though: she’s gonna beat him whether or not she’s cheating. She's got year of training with Cayde, and he only got into cards like... Two months ago.

He didn't they were going anywhere, but he's been wrong before.

"Coming where?"

Cayde snickers, opens his mouth to reply, but Holliday kicks him in the knee before he can say whatever he had in mind.

"To the masquerade,” she says. "You know, the thing you gave out the flyers for?"

"Bold of you to assume I read those."

She snorts. "I kinda assumed so, yeah. Do you have any threes?"

"Go fish."

Cayde leans back, stretching his legs under the table. He nudges Razel with his foot. "So. You. Masquerade?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'm going, if I find anything to wear. You?"

"Free drinks and the opportunity to watch Zavala dance? You bet your ass I am. Amanda?"

"Ellie has been dragging me around the City looking for a couples costume," Holliday says, looking kind of dead-eyed at the thought of shopping. "At this point I don’t think I have a choice."

He's not sure he has ever seen her dressed in anything other than her usual shipwright outfit. He doesn’t quite manage to imagine her in civilian clothes.

"What are you going as?" He asks Cayde, who seems to have it all figured out.

Cayde winks.

"You'll see," he singsongs.

"Come on!"

"Give it up, pal, I already tried," Holliday sighs. "He won't talk."

Cayde shrugs, unapologetic.

"It's more fun that way."

Razel drops his cards on the table and falls on his back, groaning. "I don't know what to wear," he whines.

"Ask Eva. Or Ikora."

In the corner of his eye he sees the two of them pick up his cards, share them between their hands. He doesn't think they're playing Go Fish anymore.

He likes watching them play, the easy confidence with which they slide cards in and out of their sleeves, the distracted way Cayde drums his fingers – bare, for once, metallic blue scratched to chrome in places catching the light of the hangar. It speaks of an old habit. Years playing together, learning each other's tells.

He yawns.

"I'm gonna... Take a nap," he says quietly. "Wake me up for dinner."

"Sure thing, buddy."

He's going to wake up with a backache, but that's a problem for future Razel.

-

Razel did end up going to see Eva Levante for his costume. And because she's a bit of a miracle worker, a bit like magic, she managed to make him one in the few days left before the Masquerade.

The sun sets on the last day of the Revelry, setting the City alight in shades of pink and gold. The streets fill with people, in groups or alone, all covered in colorful outfits and fantastical masks. The air rings with excited chatter and laughter. With the way they act one could think they have been waiting for this night for years, not weeks.

Considering it’s the first of its kind, maybe they have been waiting for years, unconsciously, for an occasion to dress up and dance like nothing else matters.

Razel is in Eva's tent so she can do last minute adjustments on his outfit. He shakes his head left and right while she pokes him with needles, grinning at the jingle of the bells on his hat.

She dressed him like a jester from old Earth stories, all in shades of blue and green and purple. All his clothes bear pattern. His pants are striped, his billowing sleeves covered in colored diamond shapes. It’s a wonderful, vibrant headache. She covers the lot with a long sleeveless coat, embroidered with flowers and vines and little skulls. Shiny pearls and baubles hang off the high, flared collar, catching the light when he moves around.

"Do you like it?" Eva asks.

He grins. "Hell yeah. It looks incredible."

She smiles in return, satisfied. "Good. Try the mask on."

He obediently ties the mask around his head. It only covers the top half of his face and doesn't do much to hide his identity. But he feels like anonymity isn't really the point of the event, in the end.

It’s about the drama, the extravagance, she told him. He trusts her professional opinion on the matter.

Eva takes a step back to admire her handiwork. At her command he spins slowly in place, showcasing her own handiwork.

She claps her hands with a huge grin.

"Well, I think we're done here," she says brightly.

He looks at her in confusion. "What about payment?"

She waves him off. "No need for that. You're the hero of the Red War. It's the least you deserve."

It's way too nice a title considering the only thing he did was shoot in whatever direction the Vanguard pointed him toward. But it is nice, and Razel never says no to free stuff.

"Thanks ma'am!"

"You're very much welcome. Now shoo. Go have fun!"

He nods, grinning right back at her, and leaves.

-

Lek is dressed as a white duck.

Razel was not aware that she’d be dressed as a white duck.

Incidentally, Razel almost died tonight when he burst out laughing at the sight of her costume.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He screams, laughing too hard to dodge her fist. He staggers back, every bell sewed to his costume jingling at the brusque movement. “You look good! It matches your hair!”

“Damn right I do,” she says, in a way that implies he will definitely be thrown over a railway if he contradicts her.

In his defense, the idea is hilarious. Well executed, but ridiculous.

The white mask is bordered with fluffy white feathers that melt into her hair, and the bright yellow bill shadowing the lower half of her face almost doesn’t look ridiculous. Her round, feather-covered dress is another thing entirely. It isn’t goofy, not quite, but… The image of Lek in a dress is just way to weird for him to take seriously.

Well. It is kinda goofy.

But it’s true: it looks good on her. If only because she wears it with the same dignity and certainty as her usual Hunter getup. It gives it a certain air of class.

“Anyway, you can talk, you clown.”

“I’m a jester!”

“Aren’t jesters just another type of clowns? Like fools? And buffoons?”

She’s right. But she shouldn’t say it. He strides off with a huff.

“The party’s in the other direction, idiot!”

He spins around. The bells on his hat jingle merrily, and one of the pointy sleeve things actually slap him in the face when he turns. Lek cracks up as he freezes, confused.

“It’s- a good costume,” she gasps in-between bouts of laughter. “Real fitting!”

Honestly, there’s nothing he can say against it. She’s right. He stills kicks her in the shin as he passes, for good measure.

Night has fallen by the time they finally make it to where the ball is held. The square is already filled with people in garish costumes, a riot of colors and fabrics. It’s… overwhelming. Razel grabs on to the back of Lek’s costume as they weave through the crowd. The feathers slipping between his fingers help ground him. Still he breathes easier once they’re a little out of the way on one side of the square.

“Alright?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m just not used to… you know.” He waves vaguely, not sure what he’s gesturing at. “People. Didn’t even know there were that many in the City.”

“It’s the last city on Earth, of course there are many people in it.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect that many!”

She shakes her head. “We need to get you around more people. You spend too much time alone in space.”

She’s not the first to tell him that. Won’t be the last, either. He shrugs — if they miss him they can always vidcall him. He gets bored too fast, in the Tower. Lek knows it, too: most of the time she flies off with him, she just comes back more often.

She nudges him with her elbow. “Hey. Wanna go get some drinks?”

He look at the sea of people, then back at her. Then back at the people. Thinks about the fact that he hasn’t eaten anything today.

“Think they got chips back there?”

“What kind of monster doesn’t bring chips with the beer? Of course they do. C’mon.”

-

In principle, masks are supposed to hide their identity.

In practice, there’s no disguise in the world that could ever hide Shaxx’s voice.

A crowd has formed around him, clearly separated from the rest of the people milling around the square. He’s wearing a knight armor, the kind from far before the Dark Age, and holding a tankard of beer in each hand. His helm doesn’t have any opening yet the cups keep emptying. How he’s doing it, now that’s the real mystery of the night.

They’re playing ‘Who can out-drink Shaxx’, even if it’s not much of a game. The answer is a clear and simple ‘no one’, though Cayde-6 has come very, very close to before, by virtue of being a robot.

(Shaxx not being one is still up to debate, so it’s still an impressive achievement.)

But a drinking competition is always a fun challenge. The guardians flocked to it. If the Crucible taught them anything, it’s that Shaxx and a good, competitive time are near synonyms. Civilians were quick to join in once they noticed the commotion — they like competition just as much as Guardians, they’re just more likely to get alcohol poisoning.

One thing leading to another, they ended up with two teams facing off next to the drinks table in some unholy combination of beer-pong and a drinking contest.

The goal, officially: get the opposite team trashed before yours. Then someone suggests Shaxx finishes the remaining drinks of the winning team, and it becomes a race to get the Lord of the Crucible as drunk as possible before they run out of participants sober enough to compete.

One of the competitors sways in place as she throws the ball. It goes wide and the momentum of the throw seems to throw her back as well. She falls over her team and almost bring a few down with her like bowling pins. Her friends appear out of the crowd to drag her away, ribbing her for being a lightweight.

Cheers rise in the crowd as they wave her off. She manages a sloppy salute in return before a friend pushes a cup of water in her hands. She focuses all her attention on it, staring down the cup as if it holds the secrets to the universe, Darkness, and everything.

"Who will take her place in the red team?" Shaxx bellows. "Come on! You cannot know yourself without testing yourself!"

Someone steps out, wearing a wolf pelt over their head. The muzzle shadows their face; it's hard to discern their face in the low light of the square.

"I'll show you how it's done," the stranger says as he joins his team.

Laughter rings through the group. "Sure you will, old man!" Someone on the other side calls out.

As a matter of fact, yes, he does.

His aim is excellent – he almost never misses. And he sure can hold his liquor. By the end of the round his team is winning by a rather large margin and his luck holds for a few more rounds after that.

He loses a few games, almost by design. Whenever he's in a team with players too drunk or too incompetent to aim, suddenly he can't aim either and the other side ends up winning with most of its drinks intact. Meaning Shaxx ends up drinking most of them.

He's... Definitely trying to get Shaxx wasted. It seems to be working decently, too. The Titan is clearly feeling the effect of so much alcohol in such a short span of time. His voice gets even more excited, he rambles on, gestures more aggressively.

Finally, when he looks properly inebriated and people have started wandering off, too drunk to keep playing, the stranger turns to him.

No words are exchanged and they both have their faces hidden yet an entire conversation happens in a single look. Shaxx puts down his tankards and joins the team opposing the wolf-man. He cracks his fingers, his neck, and takes the ball.

"Try to keep up," Saladin says, mocking.

"Oh, you're going down, old man."

-

Suraya is not a fan of parties. She doesn't like how stifling the place feels, how closed off, doesn't like the loud music. The costumes are nice and free food is always a plus, but–

She's an outdoorsy kinda woman. She fares better when she can see beyond three feet ahead of her.

She sighs and lifts her mask up to take a sip of her drink.  It's nice, she thinks begrudgingly. Not the cocktail – although that, too – but... Seeing people so happy and alive, guardians and civilians alike. She has to admit it was a good idea.

Once again she looks over the people dancing to the tune of a popular song. Out of all the wiggling, jumping people, one of them catches her eyes. His costume – all in shades of brown and black – seems dull compared to the more colorful ones of those surrounding him, setting him apart. The mask entirely makes up for it.

It's a skull. Just... an entire bull skull. That's neat. Bit morbid, but neat.

That's not what makes her notice him, though. Not entirely. It's the weird... thing he's doing with his body. At first she thinks a Fallen somehow managed to infiltrate the City, with how weirdly he's moving. It would explain how he's filling up these sleeves: it's not muscles, it's arms, plural.

But no, closer inspection reveals it's just a regular old human or close relative, doing some approximation of dancing.

There's bad dancing, and there's bad dancing. This is definitely the later. There's no rhythm, no grace, no–

Suraya narrows her eyes. She knows this guy, somehow. The mask slips forward a bit, revealing a flash of bare blue skin before he adjusts it. And by the Light, she'd recognize this bald head anywhere.

"Zavala?" She blurts out, incredulous.

The man, busy looking at whatever his feet are doing, lifts his head at the sound of his name. How he heard it among the noise is a mystery she’s too surprised to linger on. He notices Suraya and makes his way towards her in an awkward shuffle. It’s almost in tune, but it’s not dancing.

Once he’s close enough he greets her with a nod and a simple, "Hawthorne."

She whistles. "Damn, Commander, they let you in with a weapon of mass destruction like that?" She says, gesturing to the dance floor he just vacated.

He glances behind his shoulder, then at her, trying to understand her meaning. She sees it happen when he does, in the jerk of his shoulder, like a repressed laugh. He replies, entirely deadpan,

"I know. My dancing skills have blinded more than one before."

Well, he's not wrong. She has half a mind to poke her own eyes out in the hope of wiping the sight from her memories. Unfortunately hers wouldn't grow back so she'll have to refrain.

He holds his composure about a second before letting out a chuckle. "Ikora has been teaching me for decades," he says. "It's starting to pay off."

"Well if that's the improved version, I'd hate to see the original."

"I'm sure Cayde has recordings somewhere."

She mock-shivers.

"No thanks. I like being able to sleep without nightmares."

They fall quiet, both knowing Zavala's dancing is the least of their problems when it comes to nightmares. Both keenly aware of how rare a dreamless sleep has become, since the Red War.

After a short, tense pause, Zavala clears his throat and says, "Nice mask, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Owl?"

"Yeah."

She takes another sip of her drink. The poncho she's wearing as a costume is bulkier than what she's used to, covering her from head to toe. She went for a creepy barn owl look: from the stares she got from some, it's a success.

"It's good, to see them have fun after-"

"Yeah," she repeats. "I was thinking the same thing. It was a good idea. It's not healthy to hold on to the dead so much and not do anything for the living."

He nods. "Less grieving those we lost, more celebrating those we still have."

"Cheers. I'll drink to that." She salutes him with her cup before taking a long gulp of it. It's sweet and fruity, with a hell of a kick. The gal dealing with the drinks sure knows her job well. He mimics her movement, but doesn't drink. She gets the impression their Commander isn't big on booze. Makes one wonder why he even has a drink in hand. Cayde is her first guess. Or Razel, though one rarely needs to make the distinction, attached at the hip like they are.

For some time after that the two of them stand next to each other in silence. Somehow it's more comfortable than awkward. Though maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised. The two of them are similar in more than a few ways. It makes for easy companionship.

She goes to take another sip of her cup and is disappointed to find it empty. She eyes Zavala's drink.

"You're going to drink that?"

"Ah- no. Here, you can have it."

He doesn't have to say it twice. He watches her take a tentative sip – it's unexpectedly sweet – and only looks away once she's nodded in approval. She wonders, again, why he bothered to get a full cup if he wasn't going to drink it.

With his now free hand he gestures to the dance floor. "See them?" She follows the movement to a matching duo. They're both decked in red. One's an Exo, with just a simple red mask to cover her identity. The other is harder to recognize, dressed as what she guesses to be the Red Riding Hood. "That Exo is one of my Titans."

She looks again, and – no, she can't see it. Without the shoulder pads it's impossible to distinguish a Titan from any other guardian.

Guardians and civilians, it's easy. Guardian have that way of walking around, not quite military, rather the way one walks when they are wholeheartedly attuned to their own body. Combat and repeated resurrection will do that to someone. But guardian classes? Without their pseudo-uniform, it's hard to tell.

"Huh. I wouldn't have guessed. Guess without their whole getup they're just people underneath."

He tilts his head to the side, giving off the impression of a contemplative look despite his masked face.

"Yes," he finally says, his voice weighed down with an odd emotion she's a little too drunk to determine.

He shifts on his feet, adjusts his mask, starts to turn his head towards her and stops. He seems almost— flustered?

She throws him a curious glance. "Something on your mind?"

She expects a few things. She does not expect him to ask, "Do you want to dance?"

Flashbacks of his atrocious dancing comes back to mind. On the one hand it looks as painful to take part in as it is to watch, if not more. On the other, she's pretty sure it would be considered a service to humanity to stop him from embarrassing himself and the art of dancing even further.

She looks at him for a long time, mulling over the question. She chugs Zavala's drink in one go.

"Alright," she says, throwing the two empty cups in a trashcan. "Let's go."

-

There's something off about the masquerade. No, not off, not quite, but – something strange, definitely.

Ikora can taste it on her tongue like smoke in the air, like ozone before a storm. The arcane energies of the Universe hum around her, static tingles on her skin.

A feeling worth exploring, she thinks.

She rests her back against a nearby wall and closes her eyes. Full meditation is impossible to achieve in such a noisy, bustling place, but she doesn't need a full meditation. She just needs to concentrate–

There.

A burning fire in the midst of candle flames, bright as the sun to her inner eye. She can feel it at the edge of her consciousness, moving...

Coming closer.

She opens her eyes.

"Hello, Osiris."

He's dressed as himself, mostly. It's been so long since he's been in the City, it might be the best costume of all. Who would recognize him as the former Warlock Vanguard or a banished Guardian? Especially in this crowd.

He stops a few feet from her. Not quite hesitant but wary of encroaching in her space. Of what she may do if he poses himself as a threat to her city.

"Ikora," he says carefully. "It's been too long."

And whose fault is that? She doesn't voice the thought. It has been a long time. She moved on from her resentment.

Well, most of it. But she’s not looking for a fight tonight.

"It has," she says, detached. "What are you here for? It must be important, if it could drag you away from your simulations."

He shakes his head. "Sagira insisted. Apparently I need to get out more, or I'll truly become as insane as you think I am."

As insane as we know you are, she thinks ruefully. Though he does not look the part, now. He looks... happy?

His eyes crinkle, betraying the smile his mask covers. "I can see gears turn in your head. What are you thinking?"

She waves her hand. The red fabric of her sleeve seems to glow, embers-warm, under the fairylights. "Nothing important." Then, because it needs saying, for her sake if not his, "It's good to see you. Have you been well?"

He shrugs. "As well as one can be when neck deep in Vex. But what about you? How has the Vanguard position treated you?"

It has been too long, she realizes. After all it was Razel who went after him, the last time. Razel who's been in contact with him, as well. They saw each other, but only briefly. Only in passing.

"I've been well. I enjoy my work, and the people I do it with."

"Silver linings," He says. She can hear his grin and answers it in kind. They both know this position would give them grey hair, if it was possible. "It's hard work, but you've always been a hard worker. I saw you kept up your study, as well."

She blinks. How does he know? "Yes. Yes I did."

"Impressive. I could barely do anything else but Vanguard business, in my time. Makes you admire the wonder of good delegation, hm?" He chuckles wryly. "I liked your papers on the Taken – especially the latest, on the Taken Techeun. It was brilliant."

She has to admit, she's touched he kept up with her. It's good to know he still cares in his own way, even though she wonders when he found the time to read her work. Typical Osiris: never calls but reads all her dissertations.

"Razel helped me gather much of the data," she says, for the sake of honesty.

"And he helped me get a hand on your researches," he replies in kind. "He's a good kid. Helpful."

She smiles, fond. Mentally she notes to warn Razel about the danger of handing Warlock researches to rogue agents, for good measure. Then again Osiris is a bit of an exception.

"He also told me you got married."

She tenses, expecting... reproach, judgment, resentment, she's not sure. The impulse is irrational – he hasn't been his teachers for an eternity – but she can't help it.

He notices it and only looks sadder when she forces herself to relax.

"I did," she says coolly. "We sent you an invite."

"I wasn't in a good place then," he tells her, almost pleading. "I'm... Sorry, Ikora."

She looks at him for a long time, wondering... Osiris has never been to admit he's wrong. So why ask forgiveness tonight? Why not years ago, when she still felt betrayed over his actions?

But for better or for worse, it is tonight. So she extends a peace offering – if not forgiveness, then something close enough. It’s not often that one hears an apology from the great Osiris, after all.

"Her name is Nasreen. She's a Guardian too – a Titan. We met in the Crucible."

They met on opposing teams, to be exact. After Osiris was banished, Ikora felt... Lost. Uncertain. With the loss of her mentor, she turned to the only other thing that truly felt familiar to her. The Crucible. Her and Nasreen had a brief but legendary rivalry, the undefeated champion against the rising star. Then Ikora left again to focus on her duties, and Nasreen...

Followed after her. Asked her out for drinks. Held on to her, first as a friend then a lover, when Ikora sorely needed an anchor. She will eternally be grateful for Nasreen’s impact on her life, and she couldn't ask for a dearer friend or a better wife.

She's so, so lucky to have her.

"She's- beautiful. The bravest and kindest person I've had the fortune to meet." She smiles, warmth pooling in her guts at the thought of her wife. She tries, maybe pointlessly, to summarize a whole person in a few words – to show Osiris what she sees in this woman. "She loves cats, keeps conspiring with Razel to make me adopt strays. She always tell me I don't eat enough, and she bakes me sweet and stashes them around my work station so I have no choice to eat them."

It seems too little. There isn’t enough time in a single night to explain the impact Nasreen had on her life. But Osiris looks at her as if he gets it.

"I'm glad you have someone like her in your life," he says. "Is she here tonight?"

"No. She's working a rescue mission in a remote part of the EDZ, couldn't make it back without putting it in jeopardy."

They've been married for long enough Ikora doesn't mind. She does wish she could share this experience with her wife. But there's always next year, and the one after that. Neither of them is going anywhere.

Osiris takes a step back. "Well, then it's my duty to entertain you in her absence."

"Your duty?"

"As- your mentor."

"You're not my mentor anymore," she reminds him, not unkindly. Neither of them can fall back on old habits, act like they’re still master and student. They're equals now, in power and position. She doesn't look up to him the way she used to and he doesn't look after her like he was supposed to.

He nods, conceding the point with a kind of sadness she’s unused to seeing in him. "True. As your friend, then." He extends a hand. Hopeful, maybe, that she sees him as a friend too. "Would you like to dance?"

She takes it. "With a friend? Always."

They move to the dance floor, slotting themselves between groups of dancers. The light is brighter away from the sides, and it reflects off the metallic details of her costume. The peacock feathers-train of her dress fans around her as he makes her spin, a graceful arc of reds and golds.

"A phoenix?" He asks, jerking his chin at her costume.

"The theme was birds of a feather. For unity."

She smoothly steps out of the way of two men passing through the crowd. She recognizes Shaxx’s shining knight armor hanging off the shoulders of a wolf-headed man, both roaring drunk. She can't help a snort of laughter as she watches them go, stumbling over each other and breaking out in fits of drunken laughter.

Osiris follows the movement easily. She's not surprised to see he can dance: he never could bear the thought of not knowing something.

"We match," he says, nodding to the feathers covering his shoulders.

"We do," she says, and is surprised to find her words weighed down by a deeper meaning than mere fashion. She compensates with a smile. "Though you could have made an effort."

He sniffs imperiously. "I had better things to do than to find a costume."

"More like you wear one everyday."

He spins them around sharply, almost making her stumble. She adjusts her stance and doesn't bother covering her chuckle. She’s right and they both know it, he’s just sensitive about his fashion choices. As he should be: they’re horrendous. She dearly hopes he’s not responsible for whatever the Followers of Osiris are wearing.

She gets three dances with him before the Vex overtakes his mind again. He draws back, somewhat reluctant, bows, and strides off without a word. There no explanation, but she didn't expect any. He would never apologize for his single-minded obsession and she has long stopped waiting for him to.

Yet, before he's swallowed by the crowd, he stops and turns to her.

"I'm happy for you, Ikora. Truly. And I'm- I'm proud of you."

He's gone before she can find summon up a reply.

She breathes out, not quite a sigh, and a weight seems to lift off her chest with it.

-

      [Tanz mit mir]

Razel has been dancing for Traveler knows how long. It feels like hours and mere seconds all at once. The evening is a blur of colors and sounds in his mind. He aches all over, his legs from the dancing and everything else from laughing too hard.

He spins Lek around one more time as the music comes to a stop. She stops gracefully, arms extended, throwing her head back. The effect is quickly ruined as she wobbles dizzily.

They high five and she slips back into the crowd, not bothering with words when their surroundings are so noisy. She'll be back by the banquet table, he suspects. It won't be a problem to find her again once he's got tired of dancing like she did.

He has a few more songs in him, he thinks. He's ready to dance through them alone – or maybe find another single dancer to keep him company – when he catches a glimpse of a familiar Ghost in the crowd.

She disappears quickly, but he'd recognize Virgo anywhere. He makes his way to her Guardian. She's already turning to him before he reaches her, her attention caught either by the high-pitched jingling of his many bells or a warning from Virgo. Pretty sure she got into the habit of keeping tabs of his approach when he got into the habit of jumping on her back when she least expects it.

"Sable!" He calls out, waving. He closes the remaining distance at a jog and catches her in a hug. "Hi! You look stunning."

She returns the hug with a quick squeeze of her arms. "You too! I love the little bells."

He shakes his head to make them ring and giggle helplessly.

"I'm a little drunk," he says.

"I can see that."

"I tried to beat Shaxx at his... Alcohol Crucible. Drinking Royale. Whatever." He shakes his head again to get his thoughts in order. "How are you? Are you having fun?"

"Not as much as you," she says. "I just got there."

"Bet you were in your lab and forgot the time."

She rolls her eyes and punches him lightly in the arm. "It's not a bet if you already know you're winning."

"You guys keep telling me I shouldn't take losing bets!" He takes her hand between his and grin in excitement. "Wanna dance?"

The abrupt change of subject throws her off-guard. She tilts her head in confusion. He bounces on his toes, waiting. When no explanation offers itself she asks,

"Why would I want to dance?"

"Because it's fun?"

"I don't know how to dance," she says like he's a bit dense.

"Never stopped me before."

She's about to say something else – a clever comeback, he guesses – when she glances over his shoulder and her eyes widen under her mask. She freezes all over, briefly, before startling into a flurry of movements. She grabs his hand and drags him toward the dance floor, almost frantic, shoving people out of the way in her haste. She only stops when they're some way into the crowd and pins him in place with her hands on his shoulders.

"Sable?" He asks, puzzled, and reflexively rests his other hand on her waist as if they were about to waltz. Ikora tried to give him dancing lessons – some habits stuck. Not that he can waltz, per say, but he can make it look like he knows, and that's almost as good.

She shushes him. Then, realizing it is far too noisy for anyone to hear him over the music, she says, "I just saw Thyme."

They start to sway gently with the music. He nudges her back, stepping with her, and slowly they sink in a sort of slow dance where neither participant is paying any actual attention to the movements.

"Don't you wanna see her?"

She blushes. "I mean, yes, but-"

She steps on his foot and is too flustered to notice. He looks down and endeavor to not do the same. They both have that typical slender Warlock figure but he's far heavier than her – she does too much lab work to put on muscles the way he does. He doesn't think she'd like it if he stepped on her toes.

Still keeping an eye on his feet – they move out of rhythm but at a safe distance from Sable's – he says, "Don't tell me you're shy."

"I'm not used to dressing up!" She hisses, taking them in a clumsy spin. They bump into another couple. Luckily the two are too drunk to care and let themselves be pushed over. "What would I even tell her?"

"I don't know, I've never asked anyone out before."

She shakes her head. "No, no, no, it's not right. It should happen-"

That makes him smile, it's just so... Sable. "Like in the movies?"

She blushes harder but doesn't deny it.

He spins them around again, no less clumsily but with more enthusiasm. There, a few feet away, stands an exo in a beautiful red dress. He doesn't know her personally, but he's heard enough from Sable to recognize Thyme at a glance.

(The many times he stumbled on her staring dreamily toward Thyme help, too.)

He grins. "I spy, with my little eyes-" He moves his hand to her chin and turns her head the way he's looking, "The most gorgeous Titan in the room."

She makes a noise like she's choking on her spit. Somehow, her blush deepens, gaining her entire face and the tip of her ears. He snorts, trying to stifle his laughter at his expense. This time, when she stomps on his toes, he knows she meant to do it.

"Easy for you to laugh," she hisses. "You wouldn't know embarrassment if it kicked you in the face."

He spares a brief, drunken thought toward the mechanics of such an event and pulls a face at the subsequent image it inspires him.

"True," he concedes. "But I win way more bets that way."

"Good thing I don't take bets as seriously as you then."

He glances above her shoulder, toward the red Titan. She's making her way on the dance floor, not far from them.

Razel shifts on his feet and spins them in a circle. He lets go of Sable so that they're only holding hands. Her momentum forces her to take a few stumbling steps back in an effort to keep her balance.

"Have fun," he tells her, winks, and lets go entirely.

She trips and falls backward, confusion turning to panic. But instead of falling flat like she probably expected her back collides with the strong chest of a certain Titan.

Thyme closes her arms around her to keep her upright. "Are you alright?"

Sable turns Crucible red. Razel mouths 'Thank me later' at her and sinks in the surrounding crowd before she can reply with a rude gesture.

-

Razel moves to a side of the square to nurse his drink and his sore toes, unfortunate victims of his benevolent act on Sable's love life.

Lek dropped by to hand him a cup and immediately disappeared, distracted by a particularly fashionable woman walking by. Lek is either pestering her about her clothes or trying to get into her designer pants. He never knows, with her.

The good thing is she forgot her own drink when she ran off, which means he gets double the alcohol for none of the effort of making his way to the bar. Sweet victory. He chugs it in one go, less for the taste than to get his buzz back. Lek is more of a 'straight tequila with a hint of lime' kinda person. He likes his cocktails fruitier.

He throws the empty cup in the nearest trash can and startles when a voice says, just behind him, "Nice dunk."

By the sound of it, it belongs to an Exo. His voice is low in a way that isn't natural, the way people sound when they're playing a character. It has a nagging familiarity to it, known but hard to place.

It's the alcohol, Razel thinks, and the noise surrounding them. He has a good memory for voices usually, recognizes them better than faces.

He turns and yeah, at least he was right on that front. He's an Exo, though it's hard to tell with his head covered as it is with a hood shaped like a chicken's head. Its beak, glinting copper in the fairy lights, covers the top half of his face. Tawny feathers trail down his neck like a mane, spill over his shoulders in a cloak.  Some have that same copper-shine to them as the beak, catching the lights as every movement the Exo makes.

There's nothing majestic about a chicken, but this costume sure makes a valiant effort at it.

"Nice costume!" He says in return, gesturing wildly to the kind of man-shaped pile of feathers. His drink spills over his fingers, soaking the fabric of his glove. "Ah, shit."

He takes the cup with his other hand and stares, unsure how to proceed. Then he shrugs and takes the glove off with his teeth, the wet fabric sticking slightly to his skin. He juggles his drink one more time and gets rid of the other glove for good measure.

The Exo makes a choked noise. Razel throws him a confuses glance as he stuffs the gloves in his pocket. The man waves his hand in dismissal.

"Do you-" he clears his throat, oddly flustered. A glance at the (now notably emptier) cup in Razel's hand and he seems to come to a decision, his shoulders straightening as he does. He plucks the cup from his grasp, finishes it in one go and throws it with pinpoint accuracy into the trash. Before Razel can protest, he bows and offers him his hand. When he speaks again it's with the same pretend assurance as before, low and sweet. "May I have this dance?"

A giggle escapes Razel. He pitches his voice high, as well-bred-lady-of-the-Dark-Ages as it will get. "You may," he says, putting his free hand in the Exo's.

The Exo chuckles as his fingers close gently over Razel's, cradling his hand the way a Dark Age gentleman might have. His touch is warm even through his gloves, the heat of his internal hardware seeping through the metal.

He pulls Razel forward. His hand comes to rest on his lower back to guide him through the crowded dance floor. Somehow they don't bump into anyone. To Razel it's almost second nature to follow his lead, step in his track, place his hand on his shoulder. The feathers tickle his bare skin.

"I hope you're not too attached to your toes," he says brightly. His bells jingle merrily as he dips his head forward, coming closer so as to be heard over the current song. "I'm a bad dancer."

"I'm sure you'll be fine." The electronic song fades and lets place to a slower, softer one. "Just follow my lead."

Razel glances down to their feet. Left, right, left. Back, side, together. Right, left, right. Forward, side, together. With the Exo leading it's easy to keep the rhythm.

"Don't focus on your steps too much, you'll lose the music."

He looks up again, counting in his head. One, two, three. Back, side, forward – no. He fumbles, almost tripping them up.

The Exo doesn't waver, stepping around his blunder easily. He dips his head forward, the side of his feathered hood brushing against Razel's cheek.

"It's just three steps, alright? Back, side, together. Forward, side, together. Good. Keep it up."

He counts in Razel's ear until he can find his way around the steps on his own, the Exo's fingers tapping the rhythm against the small of his back.

When Razel manages a spin without getting his steps mixed up, he presses him closer and says, proud and fond, "Attaboy."

And Razel finally manages to put a name to the voice.

In surprise he stumbles, trips them up, sends them sprawling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs and clothing. A flailing elbow catches him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Cayde lets out a squawk of surprise on the way down, smothered by Razel's weight dropping on top of him. He starts to say something, but it's drowned out by Razel's laugh.

"I didn't recognize you," he chokes out in between fits of giggling. "I just-"

He collapses in giggles again before he can explain how hilarious this is. Cayde looks at him for a second, puzzled. Then the situation dawns on him – the mistaken identity, the sheer... Masquerade cliché of it all. He bursts out laughing.

"I was talking right into your ear!" He says, almost laughing too hard to talk. "How did you not recognize me before? I'm hurt, really."

"You changed your voice!"

"Only in the beginning!"

Razel can't manage a shrug with his shoulders shaking with laughter. He shakes his head and pushes himself on his forearms, staring into Cayde's face. The hood is askew, the beak falling over one of his eyes. It's him alright, with the horn and the bright blue eyes and every single scuffs and scars. Razel can't believe he didn't see it sooner – even the way he walks is unique and familiar.

He brushes his thumb under Cayde's eye, to a small scuff in the paint there. A shiver goes through Cayde at the touch, when he scrapes his nail lightly against a nick in the metal. It seems to travel all the way through his cloak, the feathers shivering with him, puffing up before settling back.

"Buddy," Cayde says, "We're laying in the middle of a crowd."

Indeed they were. "Maybe we should move," he replies, distracted. There's a bit of motor oil on Cayde's cheek – he wipes it with his thumb, scratches the part that stubbornly sticks to the metal.

Cayde's hand spasms against his back.

"Alright, get up," he says, voice strained. Razel rises easily, holding out a hand to help him up. "Let's get out of here."

Razel nods, bumps his shoulder against Cayde's once they're both on their feet. The space they occupied is immediately filled with dancers and he has to hold on to Cayde's hand to avoid losing him. Cayde tugs lightly on his hand and guides him off of the dance floor only seen in glimpses of his glittering cloak through the crowd.

"Where are we going?"

Cayde points to the closest wall. "Up," he says. "C'mon. I have something to show ya."

Razel doesn't question it. He follows Cayde, climbing over a dumpster, a wall, a roof; using his Warlock power when an obstacle proves to be too high. It turns into a bit of a race, at some point, but not one he ever expects to win. His aim sucks, with a gun or with a jump, even worse when he's drunk.

He misses his last leap and hits the edge of a roof, scrambling to keep hold on it. Cayde catches him by the wrists, pulls him up before he can slip down.

And then, just like that, they're on top of the world.

[Better love]

It takes Razel a moment to notice, still unbalanced from the run, the fall, the alcohol. But when his eyes finally adjusts he gasps in wonder.

They're – high up, higher than he thought despite having climbed here. The whole City is spread up under them, a gigantic spiderweb of light like a reflection on water of the stars above.

"I know, right?" Cayde moves to stand next to him, resting his hand on Razel's shoulder. "It's not the highest spot in the City, but... Close enough."

Razel grins. He lifts a foot, feels the pull of gravity, almost pitches forward. There's a hum in his bones, the cold, empty air taking all the space in his bones. He feels light, buoyant. Altitude has that effect on him, like battle but softer, quieter.

Music drifts up from the party below, the melody clear and the lyrics lost to the wind. He turns on his toes, flirting with a fall. A step forward, another, then he's spinning, feet walking a loose circle as he goes round and round. His coat fans around him, bells jingling along with the music. He goes faster. The lights below and the stars above blur together, vertigo making his heart beat faster and faster–

He stops, abruptly, when he bumps into Cayde. Strong arms loop around him, steadying him. He's laughing, he realizes, shoulders shaking with it. He lets his head fall, resting his forehead against Cayde's. Cayde chuckles under his breath, pressing his hands against Razel's back.

The music fades away. For a moment, it's just them, laughing like idiots again.

"You really can't stay standing tonight," Cayde says.

"Easier for you to sweep me off my feet," he replies, breathless from laughter.

He lifts his hand to Cayde's face, pushes the hood back, pulls him in. Cayde goes easily.

There's a kind of deep-seated satisfaction in touching him. Fingertips lodges in the gaps of his metal plates, dry lips against his mouth in a clumsy, smiling kiss. Like the breathtaking relief of pouring cold water on a burn. The fire inside him, the restless, burning energy that drives him, dimmed to low embers. Warm and comfortable, seeping in his bones in place of the altitude high.

The arm Cayde has around his waist tightens, pulling him in until they're flush together. His other hand travels upward. He strokes his back, feather light, up his neck. He knocks Razel's hat off his head and tangles his fingers in his untied hair, tugs at it just enough to angle his face right.

It's a spark to his embers, setting him alight once more. He wants more – no, he wants everything. Every inch of Cayde against his skin, every breath lost between them.

He clings harder, dips a hand under Cayde's collar just to feel the warmth of his whirring core against his skin. He lets out a needy whine smothered by a gasp as Cayde makes up for it by kissing his jaw, his neck, pushing his coat out of the way so he can follow the line of his neck to the junction of his shoulder. He lets go, briefly, to take off his gloves. His hands don't stray from Razel's skin for long. As soon as they're bare they find their way back to him. One dives in his hair again, running through the loose strands, the other stroking the skin of his waist before dipping under his shirt. It runs over the slight jut of his hipbone, the hard plane of his stomach, his side, his ribs. Almost greedy in its climb up his body. Razel shivers, at the touch and the cold wind against his skin where his shirt rides up.

In retaliation he rips off the feathered cloak — definitely shredding the lace tying it in his hurry to get it off. It falls in a flutter like a bird taking flight. He rakes his fingers down Cayde's back, blunt nails digging into the soft leather of his armor. He didn't dress any differently under the heavy cloak. Part of Razel is glad for it. He knows how to get him out of these clothes and he's not sure he would have the patience to understand the workings of a costume right now.

He digs his fingers in the vulnerable spot to the side of Cayde's spine, where a few naked wires come close to the surface. Cayde gives a full-body shudder, chokes out a moan.

"Yours or mine?" He says, voice ragged and low.

It takes a moment for Razel to get his thoughts enough in order to process and answer the question.

"We can transmat directly to mine," he gasps out, almost feverish from Cayde's touch.

Pros of living in your ship: you never have to bother walking home.

"Yours it is."

A flick of his wrist and Cubix appears, transmats them home without a word.

Cayde's cloak and Razel's hat remain on the ground, forgotten.

[bourbonandbadluck]

Character Sheet: Declan Hane

Character Chart

Character’s Full Name: Declan Hane

Reason or Meaning of Name: Random last name, and I just really liked the name Declan for a Gilnean.

Character’s Nickname/Alias: Bastard, Dec, Scoundrel, The Beast of Bourbon.

Reason for Nickname/Alias: Dec sort of stands to reason as most people shorten names for nicknames. Bastard and Scoundrel because he tends to get labeled a lot and those were the more polite names he’s known by. The Beast of Bourbon was the nickname he got in the Cavalry. Nothing gains you a nickname better than drinking two cases of bourbon as a worgen.

Birth Date: January 18

Physical appearance

Age:  37

How old does he/she appear: Late twenties, early thirties. He’s fairly well preserved.

Weight: 190 pounds.

Height: 5'10″

Body build: For his size he’s fairly lean, well muscled and keeps himself in good shape due to work. Can’t climb or run if you’re gut gets in the way or you have shit for stamina.

Shape of face: Square-ish? Bit of an oval tossed in.

Eye color: Ocean Blue

Glasses or contacts: None

Skin tone: Pale (Let’s face it, he’s Gilnean) But tanned to a nice copper.

Distinguishing marks: Scar causing a gap in his right eyebrow, 18th Gilnean Cavalry Tattoo on his left Bicep. Light scars along his arms and legs from combat and general fuck ups. Tattoo from his sailing days on his chest and a compass on his forearm.

Predominant features: Everyone says it’s his hair.

Hair color: Sandy blond.

Type of hair: Thick and soft

Hairstyle: Short but not cropped, kept a little longer on top.

Voice:  Mid range leaning towards the deeper spectrum, sort of gravelly.

Overall Attractiveness: General consensus is he’s very attractive.

Physical Disabilities: None

Usual Fashion of Dress: Casual and comfortable. Usually cotton shirts that breath, leather boots and comfortable pants of a cotton blend.

Favorite Outfit: His every day clothes?

Jewelry or Accessories: Besides four revolvers, he wears a braided leather necklace with a silver wire pendant housing soapstone carved into a compass, with a wedding band hanging beside it. He always has a black scarf as well and an old battered tin flask on his belt,  engraved with a horse head and faded lettering beneath.

Personality

Good Personality Traits: Sense of humor (Perhaps too much of one), Good natured, easy going and fun loving. Opportunistic.

Bad Personality Traits: Trust issues and is emotionally constipated.

Mood Character is Most Often In: Always a good mood.

Sense of Humor: Sarcastic, witty and a little dark with a whole lot of goofy.

Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Challenges and adventure. And because it goes without saying, @shaeli-dawson

Character’s Greatest Fear: Losing the one he loves, being betrayed. Terrified of deep water.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?  If something were to happen to Shaeli ( @shaeli-dawson )

Character Is Most at Ease When: He’s generally always at ease, but he’s most at ease when he’s enjoying time with Shaeli.

Most Ill at Ease When: Dealing with his own emotions, when he’s had a nightmare or forced to think about his son and his past.

Enraged When: Someone steals from him, or someone harms Shaeli (Running theme here.)

Depressed or Sad When: Thinking about his son, the what if’s and what could have beens. Thinking about home.

Life Philosophy: “Life be an adventure, so live.”

If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: He has everything he could wish for.

Character’s Soft Spot: Kids, those who have been abused.

Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others? With kids, yes.

Greatest Strength: Professionalism, sense of humor and his ability to conceal his thoughts and emotions.

Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Emotions. And now Shaeli ( @shaeli-dawson)

Biggest Regret: Not fighting harder to see his son.

Minor Regret: None.

Biggest Accomplishment: To him, every day is his biggest accomplishment, and he tends to celebrate it.

Minor Accomplishment: Learning cartography.

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: He claims to have never been caught. But what people fail to realize is that he’s never been caught in Stormwind. He spent time in the brig on the ship he worked on after being caught cheating at cards, and spent time in prison in Gilneas City after inciting a bar brawl that caused significant property damage to the bar and surrounding buildings.

Character’s Darkest Secret: After his first shift, he not only killed the two men he had been locked up with, he ate them.

Does Anyone Else Know? The only ones who knew were killed in the flooding.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: He’s driven by challenge, to see if he can do it, and the lust for adventure, to see and map the world. Thieving offers a perfect challenge.

Immediate Goals: Working up the nerve to tell Shaeli he loves her again.

Long Term Goals: Continue mapping the continents, spending his life with Shaeli.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Already on the road to it. it helps that he has someone in his life that enjoys it all as much as he does.

How Other Characters Will Be Affected: Only one person would be affected, and he hopes that she joins him on the adventure.

Past

Hometown: Gilnean Coast

Type of Childhood: Son of a fisherman. Typical childhood.

Pets: None

First Memory: Catching a bee with his bare hands and getting stung and not understanding why it happened.

Most Important Childhood Memory:

Childhood Hero: He never had one.

Dream Job: he wanted to captain his own ship.

Education: Elementary and apprenticed to completion as a cartographer.

Religion: Believes in the nature Gods when it suits his purpose.

Finances: Off and on thanks to a nasty gambling habit.

Present

Current Location: Stormwind City

Currently Living With: Shaeli Dawson. Yes he’s pretty much moved in.

Pets: None

Religion: See above

Occupation: Cartographer, Professional Thief, Tomb Raider/ Adventurer.

Finances: Fairly wealthy thanks to sticky fingers and a love of challenges and shiny things. It’s spread out through several banks.

Family

Siblings: Two brothers and a sister. Unknown if they are alive or not.

Relationship With Them: Non-existant

Spouse: He’s panicking in between considering Shaeli a spouse and asking her to be his.

Relationship With Them: Shaeli somehow managed to break through Declan’s self proclaimed ‘eternal bachelorhood’ and fear of relationships. It started as purely work, then a fun fling and grew into something more until they both awkwardly fumbled through their feelings for each other and gave it a try. He recently got the nerve to tell her that he loves her. Where it goes from here? Only time will tell!

Children: He has one son.

Relationship With Them: He’s never met him.

Other Important Family Members:  None, he’s alone.

Favorites

Color: Gold (He’s a thief, what can I say?)

Least Favorite Color: Olive.

Music: Gilnean step music, tavern songs and Sea Shanties.

Food: Pretty much if it’s edible, he eats it. (See his cooking talents for more info)

Literature: Histories, Fairy tales (They often hold truths) and Maps.

Form of Entertainment: Dancing, stealing, drinking, and people watching, sex.

Expressions: Large grins and wry smirks.

Mode of Transportation: Mostly foot, and horseback.

Most Prized Possession: The battered tin flask he keeps on his belt.

Habits

Hobbies: Dancing, stealing, drinking, Sex, Cartography, Singing.

Plays a musical instrument? He’s a fair hand with a fiddle.

Plays a sport? Long distance running (Away from the law)

How she would spend a rainy day? Drinking, lounging with Shaeli, or teaching her how to puddle jump and mud wrestle.

Spending Habits: He’s a notorious gambler, beyond that he simply takes what he needs.

Smokes: On occasion.

Drinks: To excess

Other Drugs: Nope

What does he/she do too much of? Gambles and drinks far too much. Risk taker.

What does he/she do too little of? He really should eat more.

Extremely Skilled At: Geometry, theft, negotiating, cartography.

Extremely Unskilled At: Cooking.

Nervous Tics: None.

Usual Body Posture: At ease and relaxed. He tends to drape when he sits or lean against walls.

Mannerisms: Friendly, wouldn’t know formal if it bit him in the ass, A bit crass.

Peculiarities: It’s Declan, he’s a walking peculiarity.

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist

Introvert or Extrovert? Extrovert.

Daredevil or Cautious? Both, depending on the situation.

Logical or Emotional? Extremely Logical.

Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat? Declan is meticulously neat. Everything has it’s place and is completely spotless. It’s not so much an OCD as it is a form of professional security for himself.

Prefers Working or Relaxing? To him, his work is relaxing.

Confident or Unsure of Themselves? Some would say he’s over confident. He is, however, incredibly unsure of his feelings.

Animal lover? He’s part animal! Of course he loves them!

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: “I’m bloody fantastic if you’s askin’ m’self!”

One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: “Interestin’”

Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “Were told once f’hat life nae be easy, s’posed t’be hard n’you’s nae get nae’where unless you’s work hard at it. But all I’s ever saw were folk workin’ f’hemselves t’deaf’h. Life meant t’be lived! You’s got t’love it, n’live it, ‘cause you’s nae ever gonna know when it end on you’s. Love t’challenge o’it, n’new f’hings t’world got t’offer. Wann see it, know it. N’I’s gonna love every minute o’it!”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Easy going and fun.

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? “Can’nae f’hink o’any.”

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? His eyes, and he uses them to his advantage frequently.

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? He’s pretty happy with himself.

How does the character think others perceive him/her? It’s about fifty fifty between being perceived as annoying, or fun/exciting to be around. He knows some enjoy his quirks and others find them grating.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? He’s pretty happy with himself.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: He doesn’t trust anyone, but he see’s everyone as useful to him in some way.

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Bet your booty!

Person Character Most Hates: No one.

Best friend(s): Shaeli Dawson ( @shaeli-dawson), Kat Hawke ( @kat-hawke ), Safrona Shadowsun ( @safrona-shadowsun - though she probably doesn’t know that)

Love interest(s): Shaeli Dawson ( @shaeli-dawson

Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: Safrona most likely just to see if she would say anything in regards to hersel.

Person Character Feels Responsible For: Shaeli Dawson (Who else is going to remind her to sleep, and eat, and relax!)

Person Character Feels Awkward Around: No one.

Person Character Openly Admires: No one.

Person Character Secretly Admires: Kat Hawk ( @kat-hawke But he would never let on about it.)

Tagged by: No one.

Tagging: Hell, anyone who wants to do it! Let’s see what you people got!

[theredleopardposts]

Servitors chapter one

The Servitors: Chapter one: The Break out

By HMK07

Clawed hands racked down a metal cell wall leaving engravings and causing sparks to light up the darkness the hands owner belonged to. "This is bullshit... its inhumane, Ive got rights ya known" roared a voice from the cell. The cells occupant stood over six feet tall with a muscular build, black leathery skin with red veins, clawed hands and feet just as sharp with fangs and leathery wings petruding from his back. "Will you please shut up Paul? Are you so naïve to think that their just going to come up to the cell and let us out?" questioned a athletic woman with golden blonde hair and stone grey eyes. Paul looked over to the back wall of the cell they had been kept in the fire demon had made multiple tick marks to show the passage of time, to no avail though as he, the blonde half demon witch Beatrice or their partner the ice demon Frostbite even remembered when they'd been captured.

Paul musings were suddenly interrupted by Frank groaning, Frank by stood at about well over seven feet with a door frame body, fair caucasian skin, jet black hair and the looks of a dime store thug. "Whens meal time, im hungry" Frank mumbled aloud to no one at all with the look of a kicked puppy tugging a t his grey prisoners uniform. "Food?" Beatrice quired with a look of annoyance on her face "do you have any idea what these humans have been doing to our kind in here?" Beatrice asked Frank cupping his face like a small child's. Beatrice being the leader their little paranormal trio often had to come up with the plans, strategies and keep her two demon "henchman" in check but these were dire times. Ever since the paranormal who'd been dubbed the "unifying king" by humans and paranormals alike had risen the world had gotten stranger, a whole lot stranger.

Humans had developed newer, larger weapons to kill paranormals with and technologies along with them such as the new cell they'd been staying in. Beatrice couldn't allow herself to wander though despite everything she considered her two henchmen demons her family. "I heard that he goes around punishing humans who attack our kind and punishing our kind who attack humans. Like some dammed hall monitor" Frank said cheerfully with tinge of dread to his friends. "Yeah well the unifying son of a bitch had better shine his all seeing eye on us" Paul sated as he shifted back into his human form of tall muscular black male "Im tired of waiting to die". "Screw that" Beatrice spat "im not waiting for some random miracle to happen before im carted off to get experimented on." Beatrice wasn't stupid even without her paranormal hearing and other senses she'd still have heard the screaming of others of her kind werewolves, vampires, fairies and all the others.

Even other humans who used to hunt down paranormals called "Gargareans" weren't even sparred the indignities of the poking and prodding of their captures. "All I know is im getting us out even if I have to sell my soul to servitude" Beatrice said inwardly to herself and went to sit back on her cell bunk leaning her head up against the molded waxy cell wall and closed here eyes and drifted to sleep dreaming of her heyday in Detroit Michigan and her father Michio Montes. "Hey goldilocks wake up something's going on" Beatrice heard Paul say as her jerked her awake along with the sound of alarms "This had better be important or Im gonna be very upset Paul" Beatrice groaned to her would be second in command and found Frank standing at their cell bars in his black skinned, blue veined demon form with cold air rolling off his tense body as if he were a block of dry ice. "Cant you feel it?" Frank asked his voice sounding like razor blades. Despite the sound of the alarms Beatrice stretched her senses as far as she could and found what Frank had been so tense about, the ground was trembling it was subtle but it was there and it was getting less and less subtle. Paul grinned "At this rate the whole place will be destroyed". "Yeah dumbass and us too" chimed Beatrice as they watched the human scientist and personell scurry like mice trapped in a maze. "Whoever's here has them scarred shitless" Beatrice thought "I wonder what our guest is after".

Their cells had been built to withstand their elemental powers so their was no way of getting out at least not so far, so whatever was coming was going to have an audience, them. The sounds of explosions filled the air along with fire and debris as if the entire facility had been hit with napalm or mortier fire. "Hey "B" look over there, whose that?" Paul asked like child at his first magic show meeting a magician for the first time. "Hang on ill take a peek" Beatrice focused her vision down the corridor past the debris, flames and smoke spying a figure. "Who the hell is that?" Beatrice whispered as she could make out a figure in a brown sport coat, white shirt and black dress shoes. The figures face was abscured due to the smoke but Beatrice could make out his fine cuacasian skin, a muscular build underneath his close, dark neck length hair and glowing amethyst eyes. Then she spied his right hand, it was wielding a bronze engraved handle silver blade rapier sword, stained in blood. Beatrice quickly jerked back as the figure turned his attention towards her Paul, and Frank. "Oh shit he's coming this way" Paul said as he fearfully shifted into his leathery black demon form pushing Beatrice behind him for protection.

Beatrice quickly shifted into her demon form as well her skin became leathery black with white veins, clawed hands and leathery wings awaiting what ever came for them. The figures foot steps grew louder and louder with each step until he stopped in the middle of the cell block, he looked around with sadness in his amethyst eyes taking in the scenery before him. The figure spoke with a booming voice so all could hear him "MY FELLOW PARANORMALS AND HUMANS, YOUR IMPRISONMENT IS AT AN END". He then gripped the bronze handle of his silver edged rapier sword causing a bright flash of light to erupt around his body. No longer was the figure garbed in a fine brown sports coat and dress shoes but instead a long sleeved dark leather coat, bronze spualdered short skirted body armor, gauntlets , grieves and a visored helmet. 

"GLORY TO ARDOR, ALL HAIL THE UNIFYING KING" the entire cell block erupted cheers and clanging applause from their cells their messiah had come for them, he'd saved them. Beatrice was not impressed at all she because she Paul, and Frank barred grudges against Ardor Joncour alias The Unifying King from long ago. "Oh please, what a show off" Beatrice leaned against the wall waiting for the crowds roars to die down. The Unfiying King raised his rapier sword silencing the inmates cheers "Though I give you this freedom know this. Those who abuse it will face the most dire of consequences, Do you understand me?"

The Unifying king waited for everyone's response. All at once every paranormal and human in a cell bent a knee kneeling to the Unifying King in thanks and alligence. All but three. The Unifying King turned his helmeted head towards Beatrice, Paul and Frank casting his steely gaze towards them like a spotlight. "Oh you've got to be kidding me" mumbled Beatrice as she noticed all the other paranormals and humans eyeballing daggers into them. Beatrice knew when she was beaten and this was one of those times, thus she bent her knee and kneeled her alligence towards the Unifying King Paul and Frank soon followed. With their mini rebellion thwarted the Unifying King turned his attention towards the facilities ceiling swinging his rapier sword upwards sending a blue wave of energy towards the ceiling crashing it open like a egg shell leaving a gapping upwards hole to the world above. The Unifying King gripped the bronze handel of his rapier sword shifting out of his bronze armor and into his normal clothing erupting a beautiful pair of transparent light construct wings from his back. "Remember my words and live your lives" The Unifying King stated as he spread his wings and the degenerated them extending his hand towards a caged werewolf "guide yourself towards the light my friend, its ok". Cautiously the werewolf opened his cell door and stepped on the floor of the cell block taking the Unifying Kings hand and then walked towards the light and began walking towards light crawling upwards through the tunnel to the surface.

Beatrice watched from her cell and grimaced as every paranormal and human prisoner flooded the cell block floor and scurried towards the light like flies to a bug zapper. "What bunch a of fucking psychophants" Beatrice quickly shifted back into her human form, tied her blonde messy hair into a ponytail and straightened her grey prison uniform as much was allowed and headed towards the Unifying King with Paul and Frank in tow. "So your majesty, what's next? You planning on feeding the poor too?" Beatrice asked the Unifying King rolling her grey eyes while being flanked by her two demons. The Unifying King turned to face Beatrice, Paul and Frank his amethyst gaze piercing into the three. "Ive no intentions of feeding them, they have all the tools they need to survive in the world" The Unifying King shrugged "What can I do for and your friends Beatrice Montes?" The Unifying King asked with genuine curiosity. "ARE YOU SERIOUS???" Beatrice became irate shifting into her demon form swinging punches that could reduce stone walls to dust, the Unifying King dodged them with all the effort of breathing. "You took my father and my whole world from me and you have the nerve to ask me what you can do for me? Beatrice asked through bated breaths shifting between human and demon forms swinging a blow at the Unifying King the he easily caught.

The Unifying King gripped her wrist causing her to knell in pain. Paul and Frank tried rushing the Unifying King but were pushed back by his immense power shown in domed force field he'd erected. The Unifying King was annoyed and his amethyst eyes showed it "Enough, little girl. You feel ive been unjust towards you?" the Unifying King asked "Your father was a criminal and he threatened countless lives with his madness, so yes I and my allies killed him, Id do so again if I had too". The Unifying King released Beatrice from his grip and helped her to her feet his handsome features softening "Your free to do as you please Beatrice Montes but if you feel I owe you then you and your friends can come to my home and stay there as long as you'd like."  Beatrice was confused. She didn't know what to say. She hated this half angel warlock. She wanted him dead and he'd just offered his home up to them no strings attached what was she going to say? She had to consider her options, she and her cohorts had been imprisoned for at least a decade and had nothing and no one to go too. No where to run, nothing in there names but the clothes on there backs. They could leave and try to start up another criminal empire like her late fathers but to what avail to have it destroyed by either the Unifying king, a government agency, or the army no Beatrice and the had no where to run. Beatrice knew what her answer was and cleared her throat "Ok your majesty I and my friends accept your offer. We will be living with you...for the time being" Beartrice kneeled along with Paul and Frank behind her their hushed crumbles speaking their own discomfort for them. The Unifying King smiled winningly at Beatrice and her friends "Ok then its settled! Gather whatever belongings you possesses and we'll be on our way" The Unifying King generated his blue like construct wings and took off into the sky Beatrice shifted into her demon form and motioned for Paul and Frank to do the same spreading her wings taking off towards new and unknown future.

[vintagemichelle91]

A Hard Lesson in Incrimination: Chapter 8

Authors’ Note: TGIF!!! Time to get back to what is going on with Rafael and see how he is fairing in Rikers. Perhaps a surprise visit from someone unexpected...read on to find out who!! Once again @rauliskafan love and appreciate the feedback you all give us!!! So keep it coming! :)

When this is all done, I’ll know how a case feels from every side. Might make me a better lawyer.

It was a lesson that he could have lived without.

“Rafael!”

Hearing Liv’s voice, Rafael whipped his head over his shoulder and watched her palm flatten against the air. The uniform leading him to some unknown fate took a small step back, and he inched towards the lieutenant, listening quickly as she spoke with a speed to rival his usual tones.

“Cutter can’t be swayed,” she started. “He’s concerned about the press.”

“But obviously not me,” Rafael replied, feeling his eyes roll as she touched his arm.

“He’s having you arraigned in night court. After that…”

“I know what comes next, Liv,” he said, cutting her off. “Natalia…”

“I can give her a ride to the courthouse.”

“No!” he said, a lump catching in his throat as he leaned closer. “I don’t want her to… Fin’s going to take her home. She needs to get back to the girls. To get away from…”

His voice gave out, the lump strangling his speech and his eyes blinking as they stared into hers.

“Rafael, I am so sorry,” Liv said. “Seeing you like this… it makes me sick.”

“Not doing much better from this side of the scene,” he replied as he lifted his shackled wrists, and she seemed on the verge of too many tears.

“We don’t have much time,” Liv told him.

“I know,” he answered. “Mike? What’s going to happen to him?”

“Not my call,” she admitted. “His father is furious.”

“I’ve put you in a bad spot all around,” he admitted.

“Rafael, I don’t care about that.”

“I do,” he said. “Steer clear of this, Liv. Don’t let it get any worse.”

“But I want to---”

“Just stay safe, Liv,” he said. “I’ll take care of myself.”

She looked ready to say something else when he straightened up and forced a smirk, wanting this to be like any other sidebar even as the difference was as bright as the red and blue lights flashing behind him.

“That better be a promise that you keep, Rafael,” she said before she was called back into the thick of it and had to turn on her heel.

Then she was gone. And for the first time in a long time, he felt truly alone.

The ride from the squad was cloaked in darkness with no way of knowing if he was still in the city or even this century. His wrists began to ache, but the pain of leaving Natalia was far worse. He had tried to look at her for as long as possible before he was hauled away. Naturally, he would see her again. At some point. But an uneasy rumbling sat like a jagged rock in the pit of his stomach.

No one was ever arraigned so quickly, no man, woman or minor ever sent to Rikers with such speed under the shadow of the moon. Cutter had his reasons, and in less than an hour, after another ride deeper into the abyss, Rafael Barba went from an ADA to a convict, a name to a number. It wasn’t just the three-piece suit swapped out for an ill-fitting orange costume. It was the looks as he was marched past other prisoners, having to appear out of place, and fearing that some of the many he had worked to put behind these same sets of bars were now out for his blood.

“Lights out, Barba.”

A shiver ran up his spine when the guard used his name, and Rafael tried to settle into the battered cot, covering his eyes with one arm to ward off the moon that glowed like ice through the palest set of stars. Try as he might, he could not block out the barriers now keeping him so far from home…

…or the sounds of the whispers bouncing off the thick walls, crawling out of unmarked graves with the most wicked laughter.

Barba?

That the sex lawyer?

Pretty boy ain’t looking so fine now.

He’s gonna get what’s coming to him.

His arm slipped from his face, and Rafael tried to tune out the noise, the threats, curling to his side and imagining that he was home, with his hermosa flor. In his mind, his most fervent fantasies, her fingers threaded through his hair, her lips lightly against his temples, and her whisper a warm wind chasing the gray clouds away. But as the night dragged on, the constant threats mingled with inside joke sent his memory deeper into yesterday. To the nights when he tossed and turned as bullies’ voices echoed in his brain… to his father’s looks of disgust, his brutal hands only adding to the bruises already covering his body. His mother had tried and failed… did she even know what was happening to him now?

Come morning, Rafael was bleary-eyed and broken. Grateful for the first time in his life that a shower was delayed, he felt on edge in the cafeteria, sitting alone with a plastic tray of inedible food. His eyes constantly darted in every direction as he played with the meager meal. With the whispers assigned to faces, he swore he saw long ago defendants sitting at every other table. But when some of the sideways glances left the room for this or that work duty, he was left forgotten with his paltry plate. A wave of fresh memories washed over him, the short, strange kid abandoned while others made friends. Yes, there was Eddie… even thinking of Alex did his soul some good in that second. But he was slipping back into his singular brand of solitary confinement, the days when even his supposed success did nothing to let him believe in so-called lights at the ends of impossibly long tunnels.

Instinctively, he reached into an unfamiliar pocket for his phone. Because he wanted Natalia, wanted to hear her voice and let it be the lifeline to drag him out of this pit. One word from her lips would give him a glimpse of the light and let him believe in the fairy tale living in her eyes.

“Got a visitor, Barba.”

The same guard from the previous night had him on his feet the second he realized, remembered where he was, that his phone was locked away in another steel cage.

“A visitor?” he echoed.

“That’s what I said.”

Trying to ignore the frost in the guard’s tone, Rafael followed the other man’s lead as he dumped out the contents of his untouched tray. Fin took her home; the last thing he wanted was Natalia watching from the gallery, listening to the charges leveled against him. But now, after just one night separated from her side, he found himself desperate to see her, hoping---

“Let’s shake a fucking leg!”

The guard shoved him, the memories that had nearly swallowed him whole threatening to make like a merciless waterfall pouring over the edge of his brain. Somehow, he kept walking. Soon there would be Natalia, only Natalia, nothing but Natalia, and---

“Good morning, Mr. Barba.”

Stopping in his tracks, stunned, he narrowed his eyes and saw a tall woman with icy eyes and a mass of curls spilling over her shoulders. Before he found the strength to move, he endured a rough push from the guard and stumbled towards the nearest chair.

“Steady on!” the woman said in a clipped tenor. “We won’t have that on my watch.”

Bending at the waist, the guard gave the unexpected visitor a mocking bow, a sarcastic salute, and started back to the door.

“Apologies, Ms. Pond,” the guard said. “I’ll leave you and your… client to it.”

The door slammed shut, and Rafael trained his eyes on the woman, watching her sink into the opposing chair, silencing her phone with one hand and extending the other until he shook it in an instant of realization.

“Miranda Pond,” Rafael said.

“So you are familiar with me,” she smiled.

“I’ve heard your name… from Liv…” His speech stalled as he finally sat and started to collect his thoughts. “But I’ve… we’ve…”

“Never had the pleasure of going up against one another,” she said with a smile. “Pity. The fact is I’ve been tending to matters overseas. I’ve only been back for a few months. And here I was looking forward to a visit from my cousin when your father-in-law rang us both up.”

“Trevor?” Rafael croaked. “You… you know…?”

“Obviously,” Miranda said. For a few moments during the darkest night of his soul, his mind had drifted to the likes of John Buchanan or Rita Calhoun if he was to fight… and beat these charges.

“Now don’t go thinking that every Brit knows one another,” Miranda teased. “But my cousin and I are putting the reunion on hold. You remember Brenna Harker."

Nodding his head and swallowing hard, Rafael waited until his mind began to fire on the cylinders seemingly burnt out.

“You’re her cousin,” he stated plainly.

“Very good, Mr. Barba!” Miranda chirped. “And your current predicament aside, I rather relish the thought of getting back before a judge.”

“Probably better to have someone defending me who… who didn’t know the victim,” Rafael said.

“Exactly,” Miranda agreed. “Trevor called it the best of all possible worlds.”

“Quoting Candide?” Rafael managed to quip.

“Mr. Barba, I think we shall get along famously.”

Feeling at ease, he watched her reach into the slim valise at her side to reveal a manila folder.

“What have you got there?” he asked.

“The lab report. On the late Ms. Selby.”

“How did you get a hold of that?”

“I still have friends in high and low places who were only too happy to help. Have you truly looked at this?”

“No,” Rafael admitted.

“Why?” Miranda asked.

“I… too busy protecting…” His mind that had lingered on Natalia suddenly flashed to Dodds.

“Mike.”

“What of the sergeant?” Miranda asked.

“He doesn’t deserve to lose his shield over this,” Rafael started. “Is there something that you can do to help him?”

“You best leave that to Liv and her brothers and sisters in blue,” Miranda cut in. “I hear his old man is raising hell and branding it with a new address. We have your neck to worry about. This report is our first ace in the hole.”

Stretching forward, he just caught a glimpse of the diagrams and the medical codes before meeting Miranda’s eyes.

“Is that what I think I’m reading?” he asked.

“From the angle of the injury, it appears that Ms. Selby’s skull struck her bedside table. In another life, you could have easily claimed self-defense. Definitely a blight on your reputation… but not quite this.”

“I should kick myself, right?” Rafael darkly asked.

“You look kicked around enough right about now,” Miranda stated. “Yes, the cleanup complicates things. But what’s done is done.”

He let those words sink in and grasped the edge of the table.

“Are you still with me?” she asked.

“Here and feeling foolish,” he said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“That’s what your father-in-law is paying me for.”

“I thought that this was… was a favor,” Rafael countered.

“A girl’s still got to eat,” Miranda shot back. “Now ask away.”

His eyes traveled to his bare finger, and he closed his eyes tightly, seeing Natalia as she had looked the first time they attended the opera, bathed in pink, beautiful and smiling. Sometimes he wished she could have stayed like that, untouched by any and all tragedies.

“I… do you think that my wife… that Mike would be spared any further investigation if I just took a plea and… and the consequences?”

For a second, Miranda seemed shocked. But Rafael made no effort to take the words back. He focused on her eyes and saw her slowly shake her head until her smile expanded.

“Well what do you know,” she began. “Apparently royalty’s not confined to Buckingham. Here’s a prince of Manhattan looking after one of his lords and his lady fair.”

He nearly blushed. But that sight was meant for said lady fair’s eyes only.

“Be straight with me,” Rafael said.

“Possibly,” Miranda said, tapping the tip of a pen against the tabletop. “But I’m not here to cut a deal. Not yet anyway. And on that point, Natalia would agree.”

“You… you’ve already talked to her about this?” he asked.

“Naturally,” Miranda said. “Neither one of us went into this morning seeking conciliation prizes. And orange isn’t exactly your color.”

He almost laughed at the joke when his mind turned back to his wife, his eyes drifting to the empty chair at his sudden lawyer’s side.

“Where is Natalia?” he quietly asked. “Shouldn’t she be here?”

“Make no mistake; she wanted to join us.  But given the choice to sit here and worry and get out and take action, she opted for the latter.”

His heart started to swell with pride when he suddenly grasped Miranda’s hand.

“On her own?” he nervously asked. “Is she safe?”

“Quite safe, Mr. Barba,” Miranda assured him. “I told you the reunion was on hold. Natalia is in Brenna’s hands this morning.”

Was that safe? He remembered London. But the woman had come through then. And he had to believe… hope that Natalia would stay protected until he could touch her, feel her, forget this place and live in the light once more.

[phloxy-fox]

Dedicated to @omaano because I said I owned them a drabble for finishing their work without slacking off (much). I’m aware that it’s only October. Thank you very much. ————————————————————————————————— It has been more than two years since he had to choose between spending the rest of his life in prison or under the command of a grumpy old man. Even though the company seemed nice enough most of the time, he still isn’t sure if he had made the right decision.

Jesse gave up counting how often he already felt a muscle in his face twitch. It was useless with how the whole fearsome organisation of Overwatch suddenly turned into the clichéd version of annual family meetings. “Oi, Jesse! Pass me the cartons of baubles, will you?” He huffed and put his mug down on the nearest surface that wasn’t occupied by any kind of decorations before reaching over to pass the box of decorations over to his boss who was humming an annoying surprisingly familiar tone.

“Aren’t we supposed to go on a mission or something?” He grumbled lowly. This whole happy go lucky family stuff was too much for him to take right now. His boss glared down at him before rolling his eyes. “It seems even the villains are celebrating Christmas.” Jesse gave him a deadpan stare before returning to warm his hands on the mug. He really wasn’t used to these cold winters in Switzerland. “If you insist on standing around doing nothing, at least get me a cup of eggnog!”

“Are ya sure, jefe? Don’t want to get you drunk before 6 pm.” The glare he received was hilarious, so he continued. “After all, pops, aren’t you supposed to take your medici—ACK!” However, Jesse forgot that his boss had aim that almost could rival his own. Therefore, he should have expected the Christmas baubles coming his way. Grumbling, he rubbed the side of his head before finally making his way into the kitchen to fetch that cup of eggnog.

“Didn’t you already have one cup, Jesse?” He glanced up and spluttered. The doctor and Captain Amari were preparing some kind of food in the kitchen while apparently being already dressed for the party later. Both had a red Christmas hat on their heads. “Y’all look silly.” The young doctor – Angela, he reminded himself – huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at him – when did that happen?

“I know you are not the biggest fan of Christmas, but that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy it, does it?” If it wasn’t for the fact that Jesse knew very well what the doctor was capable, he would have thought of her as adorable. She certainly has had a second cup of eggnog as well. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He brushed her glare off and went to fetch another cup. “I’m getting this for jefe. He doesn’t want me hovering around.” He shrugged and filled the cup with said beverage before secretly spiking it a little. He was aware that his boss has a hard time getting drunk anyway, so he surely wouldn’t mind. But the look on his face would be worth it.

“You are aware that he will taste your experimentation, yes?” Ana glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes before adding a little cinnamon to the beverage with a wink. Jesse grinned in answer to her wink before heading back to the mess hall where his boss was still busy decorating the impossibly large Christmas tree. He once again felt his eyebrow twitch. It was probably around the 235th time already. He put the cup down next to his own before moving over to his boss. “Oi, jefe. Need a hand?” The older man glanced down at him before nodding. “Yes. Please hand me the lights and help me set them up.”

After quickly searching for those fairy lights, he helped set them up. Unknown to him, he started to hum along to the tune his boss was humming. “Thank you for your help at last, Jesse.” The young man shrugged and reached for one of the cups and taking a sip before spitting out what he had in his mouth while coughing furiously. “Oh shit, this tastes like hell.” Gabriel started laughing wholeheartedly. “That’s what you get for spiking someone’s eggnog. It didn’t work last year and it surely hasn’t worked this year.” Jesse glared at Gabriel before setting the cup back down and making a face at the taste lingering in his mouth.

“Now, who looks silly?” Angela giggled when she and Ana came into the mess hall to set a plate of cookies onto the table. Ah, so that’s what they were preparing. He went to grab for one of the treats when the doctor slapped his hand away. “Ah, ah, ah! Not until the others return!” He pouted at her and started poking her cheek. “But Angie~ They look so delicious!” She turned her head to bite at his finger and pulled them back with a small yelp. The doctor certainly enjoyed another cup of eggnog for her to become so playful. The older adults laughed at their antics before Jesse flopped down on one of the couches.

When no one was watching him, he began stuffing the cookie into his mouth he managed to snatch when Angela was busy scolding Gabriel and Ana for laughing at them who just continued to laugh at her slightly slurred words. Poor girl never allows herself some fun. “I wonder when they will be back.” The others hummed in agreement.

There were a few minutes of silence before Ana glanced outside and her face lit up. “Ah. It’s snowing.” Jesse shot out of his seat and walked towards the window, watching the snow as well with a large grin on his face. “Let’s go outside!”

Of course it took him a little longer to convince Ana to head outside as well because although she enjoys watching snow, she certainly dislikes going outside into the snow. However, the puppy dog eyes got her and the other two occupants of the room, as well as Fareeha, out into the snow. He really had to thank Fareeha for telling him her mother’s weakness. He smirks inwardly once they step outside. Even though he has only seen this much snow a few times in his life, he sure knows how to use it.

There was already a plan forming in his head as he slowly tugged Fareeha to the side to get her help. The little girl chuckled and nodded in agreement. Jesse made sure no one noticed when they began inching away to get the perfect position to set their plan into motion. They nodded at each other and Fareeha stepped out of their hiding spot and weakly threw a snowball at her mother which barely grazed her. The captain raised an eyebrow at her daughter in amusement. Now that the attention was on Ana and Fareeha, Jesse could start his plan.

It definitely had its perk to be over 6 feet tall, especially having undergone military like training. Jesse made use of his long legs and sprinted towards the unaware Gabriel and tackled him to the ground, smothering his face with snow who immediately began spluttering. “Jesse! You fucking bastard!” Jesse laughed loudly, continuing his assault until both girls tackled him to the ground and away from Gabriel.

“Jesse John McCree.” The older man stood up and glared daggers at him, his face red. Shit, I’m dead. Jesse began counting his last few seconds on earth while trying to placate Gabriel. “Jefe, now, c’mon. It was meant to be a joke! No need to kill me! Plea-“ It was the second time today that the older man interrupted him by throwing something at him. But instead of the expected ice pickle, a huge load of snow landed on him. His voice cracked as if he was 17 again when the snow slid down his jacket and down his pants and he shrieked. The girls were laughing and Gabriel looked smug at him.

After that, a snowball fight erupted which probably caused quite a few wet and soggy article of clothing. It took Ana to get them back inside after Fareeha started to violently shiver despite her thick coat and winter accessories. However, they were all laughing by the time they entered the base again. Jesse shook his hair and Angela yelped when patches of snow and wetness hit her cheek. She gently shoved him before making sure the water in her ponytail landed in his face. Fair enough.

By the time they all warmed up and dressed in dry clothes, other members of Overwatch were already sitting in the mess hall, smiling at them. Gabriel wandered over to Jack, subtly brushing his hand along the blond’s shoulders before plopping down beside him. Jesse rolled his eyes and made a beeline for the cookies. Reinhardt laughed and shook his head. “You surely have a sweet tooth, don’t you? Ah, but Miss Amari’s cookies are the best!” The captain smiled softly before seating herself next to her daughter and pulling her close. “Thank you, Reinhardt. That’s sweet of you.”

“Not as sweet as you, Miss Ana!” Jesse grimaced at their behaviour before nibbling on the cookie. “Oh, Jesse. Be so kind to help out Angela in the rec room, will you? She is helping out Santa.” Ana winked and the young man huffed before stuffing the rest of his cookie into his mouth, brushing off the crumbs on his shirt before moving to the rec room to help out the young doctor with the presents and… He stared after seeing Torbjörn and his wife in Santa and Mrs. Claus costumes. He shook his head in amusement. Just like his own family. He faltered for a second. This is his family now. Of course they are acting like his family because they are.

Angela pressed boxes of presents into his arms and they slowly made their way back to the mess hall. Jesse didn’t think about the fact that Torbjörn’s wife pecked her husband’s cheek when they entered. However, he grew suspicious when Jack and Gabriel came forward to relieve him and Angela of their staples. Just when they wanted to make their way into the room, they were stopped by a smirking Ana who pointed towards the ceiling. Mistletoe.

“Oh c’mon. Can you guys be any more clichéd? A mistletoe? Really?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his cheeks warming slightly. It’s not like Angela isn’t pretty, it’s just… His thoughts stopped when he felt soft lips on his cheeks. “Merry Christmas, Jesse.”

His face felt like it was on fire as Angela brushed past him into the room with a little smile on her lips. He stood dumbstruck for a few more moments before returning to his seat. The crew laughed and he pulled his hat over his eyes, willing the redness in his cheeks away. “You’re welcome,” Reinhardt whispered to him before leaning back when Torbjörn started giving out the presents. He huffed and leaned back to wait for his turn.

He must have nodded off because he was startled when Fareeha pushed a small box and an envelope into his arms. He blinked owlishly before thanking her and began opening. At first he opened the box and smiled at the old-fashioned picture inside. Not those annoying hologram things. He then opened the envelope and grew confused when it appeared so official. Until he read the letter inside.

“What…” He felt himself choke before looking up at Gabriel who was avoiding eye contact, seemingly nervous. Angela glanced over his shoulder, wanting to know what got him so shaken. He heard her gasp when she read the headline. “Oh mein Gott. Ist das dein Ernst?” She whispered, probably unaware that only she and Reinhardt could understand German. “What is it?” Fareeha grew impatient, tugging on Jesse’s shirt.

“Documents for… adoption?” She looked confused before there was a round of gasps in the room. “Gabriel!”

“Gabe!” Jesse began shaking and stood up, marching towards his boss before dropping down in front of him, embracing his torso and just sitting like that. Gabriel smiled softly. “I figured it would make sense. I will probably never be able to have children of my own and since you behave like my teenage son anyway, we might as well make it official.” There was a small sound from the young man – no right now a boy – clinging to him.

“Yes!” Fareeha cheered loudly and tugged at her mother’s scarf. “We are like a real family now! Can we adopt Jesse, too, Mom?” Ana laughed good naturedly at her daughter’s excitement and petted her head. “Habibti, Jesse is already a part of our family.”

[fortheloveofcringe]

n e e d y //

I could go and write something where people would look up to me like a success story. That’s always a way to prove you’re something in the society you live in. It’s the easier choice, to make people feel like there is hope and success at the end of the dark tunnel but then people tend to overlook or push-back, the fact that there are things that happen along the road, they happen at the scariest time and moments in your life and never do these “people” who I have dealt with bother to feel it unless it needs to be felt. It’s like emotion these days has to have an on and off button. That’s scares me a lot, but then these days I’ve been thinking, being scared doesn’t do nothing to me, it just make me fight more, even after so much downfall and rejection.

Rejection, I’m going to touch bases with this one. Something I’ve dealt with my entire life. From my paternal grand parents making me feel like an abomination just because I was gay and no one in the bloodline has to be gay, or to the most fresh wound I have, which marks it’s first month today, me being single, after such a wonderful, scary and inspiring relationship with Timothy.

 You know something, perhaps I’m writing this as a formal closure to that chapter in my life because for so long I have been writing about so much sad stuff in the cloud of anger that I just want to get things off my chest differently which is to address this in a way where I’m the monster, and I’m not anymore pointing my fingers to the monsters in my story. I can’t even believe I called myself a monster right just about now.

 Anyway, Timothy, if you would read previous entries you might get the idea of a modern day fairy tale relationship. None of my wildest dreams per say. I adored him so much that it just hurt us both, badly. To cut the long story short. He just never needed me the way I needed him. It sucks. To just throw dreams of having a bright future with someone out of the window just because it hurts your eyes and you want to do a reality check but I guess that’s why we have sunglasses, they say it protects the eyes. I never realized some eyeglasses are fake and just do nothing but leave marks on your nose.

 Needy. I’m needy. I’ve been crying and going crazy for weeks now. This has been such a wild ride with him that looking back now I just feel like everything we had was just from a book. A Novel, a fictional one. I wish him the best however it just makes me feel a certain way knowing I have suffered more than he did. It’s like all the entire time I believe he had some reservations about us and he knew we are not going to work out and a few puzzle pieces come into my mind to support this claim. One, he never formally introduced me to his family because I think he never wanted them involved when it all crashes down unlike mine where my family had known him and are angry and tears knowing I almost tore my relationships with them just to have Timothy by my side. Two, being with him, despite the care and the love, felt like a love prison, for both of us. What I mean is I felt like he was just faking it to make sure he complied with the “ideal boyfriend” persona he describes himself as because there are moments when he had rolled his eyes at me to the back of his skull thinking “Hambert is not really worth it”. Three, and last, in support of number two, He admitted he wanted someone else. Not me. I’m glad I had so much time to make sure I have figure out the science of persuasion that I figured out a way to make him spill the truth to me and I have to say it was fucked up. Imagine being with a person beside you while his mind is off sucking someone else’s dick. That felt like boiling water in my freshly healed heart. Because I think breaking up is fine, sure some relationships need a time-off, but to know who’s replacing you? that’s just fucked up.

 This is where I got really and intensely angry at him that I made sure we really would hate each other after the end because my good side tried to patch things up with him even though it made me look so desperate running through their doors just to give him a movie or something so he wouldn’t be wasting time or whatever, but the bad side of me just wanted to get even so I made sure that I did some stupid things that actually, in the end, bought me peace of mind and of course some insights to process my pain.

 I met his the girl he dated before me. Which he just ghosted. I did that to catch his attention which ended up me having blocked by him on social media. My point of meeting this girl, besides my petty brain, was to make sure I erase this picture of him that I painted in my head, which was a handsome prince who picked roses for me every morning just to make sure I don’t dance in stems of thorns. Timothy was such a great man that he also made sure I would feel like nobody would care for me the way he cared. Which was debugged when I and Venus, the ex of my ex, had lunch over spaghetti, taco’s and the dick we both had in our mouths (and by dick we mean by attitude or literally, whichever comes first to your mind) When we talked I realized he has a cruel way of making sure you wouldn’t compare him to anyone. And the way he twisted their story to me, because when we spoke I realized Tim was such a liar he had to make her look thirsty for him and no woman should be painted that way, ever. That conversation I believe healed us both in a way were now, we’re friends and shit-talking about a guy full of shit which basically catered to what I want which was to make sure all of the good pictures in my head was crossed check for what is the actuality of who he was. In that moment me and Venus realized we were both used as a gateway for his lust to a guy named Gwen. I can’t call it love because I’m sure Tim has not have the opportunity to connect with Gwen on a deeper level so fuck fake smiles here, people.

 Who I thought was the man, that I’m willing to go through with all the hardships in my life, who would support me, and help me grow, turned to be a complete poser. This was hard for me because I know him in way that not Venus knows and I know very well that he’s a broken soul, but there is no rational reason to justify his pain to be carried over to his present life knowing well that he is old enough to fuck us both, and for him to be running around and break the hearts of people who loves him.

 What also bothered me was the fact tat he was just so ready to move on to the next page of his life which was by trajectory, was Gwen, and that he never muttered a word that would have potentially brought us back together. He was just so “Please I need new dick in my mouth I’m bored of you because you’re  a pain in the ass”.

 Pain in the ass was also one thing that he couldn’t handle. He never wanted anal with me. Now, I don’t know why but I have a strong feeling that would have it been Gwen to offer to top him, I’m sure he’d squat in less than a second. Forgive my bitterness overflowing in each word here, if you’ve been in so much pain, you might understand.

 The world isn’t big enough because this Gwen guy is a close friend of my friend Argie. Now long story short Gwen doesn’t do boys, or so he claims. Tim got dumped and now it’s a double whammy for our pretty boy Tim who thinks everyone is gonna drool for him. I hate him though. That Gwen guy, he haven’t done no shit. I can’t like him because he’s the friend of my friend and I know it’s not his fault, but sometimes disliking people just don’t need to be justified, we just feel the way we feel.

 I hate knowing he was my replacement just in case he was into boys because he’s manly, skinnier and lanky (as Tim admitted he like those kind of boys, one where he could pose as a pedophile) short, and it makes me more bitter going to work everyday passing their 3-story house making it feel like a slap to me for coming from a poor family. It was like “Hambert, your replacement is a handsome, skinny guy whose rich and that’s what our high maintenance Tim boy wants, bye, you deserve to be left, so sorry but not sorry, go ahead and die.”

 Got a chance to talk to him though and I think he’s smart from staying off the dirt because I would drag him in the mud with Tim on top of him so they could finally get to fuck one another for making me and Venus shed tears.

 Let me tell you one thing though. And this is fucked up. I still love him.

 I still feel his kisses on my lips. His face in my chest. The scent of his hair or his subtle way of putting his nose on my shoulders in the jeep. This is what breaks me to tears like right now. Because knowing I can’t have that anymore. It’s feels like death and I’ve had a fair share of losing people and tragedies from living so poor, not eating to being accused of wrong things, to be bullied in work or having my grandmother die while I’m carrying her to the hospital or maybe even growing up without a father, but I think this has been the greatest pain I’ve dealt with. To be in tears because of love.

 And I can go ahead and make stories about how I successfully dodged a bullet. But to be fair, I know that in those nights I spent with with him, the love we shared, I know he’s the love of my life and there could never be anyone. Because now I’m scared to be loved and be in love. I can’t embrace something that broke me.

 I’m now employed ans still studying. Things seem fine. I’m walking on a fire pit but I’m still alive.

 However if there is one more song we can bond over, just one last, I wish I can sing Ariana���s “Needy” to him. Just to make him understand. How good it feels to be needed.