#*her. that I nearly started crying. if that provides any more insight.

[pawacelsus]

what gets you so much about bonnie dd2?

WOOF okay opened pandora's box here, but also I have NO clue if I'll be able to really... Word it properly? She is sort of just The character that my brain decided to latch onto. May be simple, just be that she's new and therefore unique! But at the same time, I think it's because we see her chance at happiness get ruined. For most of the hero shrines in dd2 (that I have played), we see this constant fall: Paracelsus plays god, Audrey robs her first grave, Dismas robs the carriage, but the story doesn't (as far as I know!) really frame them as being on the... Up. It's this constant downward spiral. Things are getting worse and worse for them.

But, fittingly enough, Bonnie finds that glimmer of hope. She runs away from Saint Martha's, and she finds happiness! She's taken in, she's adopted! She finds new parents! It is very explicit: She is happy and things are looking up.

And then she ruins that. She, by her own hands, kills the people who took her in, and now she is haunted by it. All her trinkets weaken her against Gaunt enemies, where you can find the Woodsman, where everything points to that being her dad, the kindly man that took her in, who she killed. Fell the Tree, Carve the Toy, Protect the Child.

What's the worst is how close she was to happiness, unlike... A lot of the rest of the cast. She was so close to it. But she, like everybody else, ruined it by her own hands. And now here she is. There's no heroic background to her. She doesn't know the ancestor. She doesn't have experience fighting off these eldritch abominations that spew forth from the mountain. But she's there. She's fighting anyways.

MANY months ago, I had a run with a Sunny Disposition Runaway. That team, to this day, has been my absolute favorite, but part of the reason I like her so much is because of that one Runaway. Back when act-outs were a thing, Bonnie would consistently take hits for other people, even when they were really fine, and multiple times she had destressed people down to a manageable level. Absolute mvp. So, we head up to the Denial boss fight, and... She's the first one to die. Stuck with me, having the most positive character on that team be the first one to die. Of course, that's just my brain being silly, but it's stuck with me, and remains part of how I write Bonnie to this day.

And in general, I just really like her design! I like how grubby and grimy she is, I like the way her clothes are all patchwork and little details in how she looks! Compared to the rest of the cast, she looks so minor, so plain. Love her animations, love her attacks, love her playstyle, I just generally adore her. Patting her on the head. Lovingly giving her a juice box. Taking her away from my fireplace. Giving her a warm blanket and a nice meal.

[fragilevixenfic]

The Darker Side of Love

Rating: M

Category: Angst/Post En Ami/Smut/Angry Sex

Summary: Mulder does not want to talk but he does not want Scully to leave, either.

“Betrayal stings in a bitter way but regret leaves an even bigger hole in a heart.” – Unknown

Edited/expanded from a piece written during Vicky’s (@frangipanidownunder on Tumblr) workshop focusing on specific words, tone, and mood to create a scene. Thank you for the fabulous beta work, Monika (@monikafilefan) and Kasey (@slippinmickeys). I’m eternally grateful for your insights.

I cannot let you burn me up,

Nor can I resist you.

No mere human can stand in a fire

And not be consumed.

-A.S. Byatt (Possession)

10:00 PM

Mulder had ignored Scully in the drive back from the empty offices, steadfast in keeping his eyes forward as she stared out the window. The expectation of an argument had gone flying by like so many drops of rain in the wind and renewed the dull ache in her heart as he drove right past her exit, opting for his own. Despite the anger written on his face, he wanted her next to him. He squeezed her hand only once before going upstairs and it felt more like pity than love. She pushed the emotions a little further down and stood in the doorway, watching him as he paced. Watching him as the pieces of his psyche finally began to crumble before her like a castle in the sand as the surf finally came to wash it away.

What have I done?

Scully held her palm to her lips as she stared at the physical representation of her failure; the manila folder Mulder onto the table and let every piece of paper fly across the lacquer top. They scattered onto the floor like so many hopes and dreams. They were now nothing more than nightmares manifested as Mulder tossed the disk onto the center of the mess, the glints of light reflecting darts of light across the ceiling, and heaved a heavy sigh as he sank against the cushions. She didn’t need the reminder of her self-inflicted catastrophe but he was providing it for her in the form of a massive printout of empty promises. There was already an ache in her belly and a lump up in her throat, and she swallowed the last of her nerves as she held a breath in. She wanted to be numb and run, but every nerve seared and tingled, pushing her to stay.

The leather squeaked and his eyes found hers but words wouldn’t come, like a punishment. His fingers twitched and knuckles went white as he squeezed air; it sent a chill down her back as she imagined who he was picturing on the other end of his fists. Something was burning behind those flecks of jagged gold and green that Scully didn’t want to decipher. Her tongue clicked the roof of her mouth as her eyes zoned out on the low, erratic bubbling of the fish tank. It was worse than any lecture and the wretchedness had already been doing the trick to her pneuma as she stared at the carnage of paperwork in front of him.

“Just say something,” Scully bit down hard enough on the corner of her lip that the taste went tinny and the first tear betrayed any hope of calm, coaxing a breathy sigh from Mulder.

Request not met. He’d set up camp in another non-committal night of no communication and anxiety; enough to make her blood pressure spike and make her cheeks go hot. Stalemate. Scully’s white flag went up as she felt the door staring at her back, willing her to just walk away and surrender. She teetered in her heels and grasped the molding as she heard the snap and skitter of his belt before her eyes could register the motion. Her gasp rivaled any sound Scully had ever made but it didn’t persuade more than a tilt of the head from Mulder. He leaned back as the sweat gathered along his brow. She recognized the distinct ember of change brewing beneath his lashes as he stared up at her.

“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think,” Mulder tossed the belt onto the finished surface with a resounding thud and pushed his fingers into the cushions, desperation in his eyes. “Not tonight.”

“Then what do you want?” Scully held her breath and took a step closer, letting his eyes set fire to her soul as he tilted his head to look at her. “Do you want me to leave? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” Mulder shook his head and stood, moving past her like a tornado with his fingers wound through his hair. “No.”

The disappointment in his voice was killing her as she backed up until the curve of her spine touched the wall, watching his jaw clench and his eyes narrow toward the floor. He paced for a long, agonizing moment. The silence was deafening, maddening, claustrophobic, and the pressure against Scully’s back only added to the suffocation as the oxygen refused to leave her lungs. Her exhale came out in a rasp and a whimper, tugging his focus until he was peering into her embodiment, bulldozing the remainder of the barrier she had built to keep the emotions in check. Composure evaporated as she let her tears fall; the unmentioned ardor sweeping down her cheeks as she bit down on the edge of her lip.

Scully ran her palm along her chin, capturing the stray droplets as the word came out despite every effort not to say it. “Please…”

Mulder diminished the distance, enfolding Scully’s frame in his arms, he pressed his fingers against the small of her back and dragged the fabric of her long-sleeved, high neck top up. Scully breathed toward the ceiling as Mulder freed her from the confines of her top, pulling it up and over her head before discarding it in the direction of the couch. Mulder knelt, guiding her out of her shoes and undoing the button and zipper on her slacks, exposing the pale curvature of her hips and legs along with a matched set of pale blue undergarments. He looked up at her from her waistline as he leaned in and set his teeth against her skin until she twitched under his grip. A moan pushed her lips apart.

“I can’t…” Mulder manhandled her, gripped her backside as he stood and thrust his pelvis against her as her arms wrapped around his neck. “I need…”

“I know,” Scully couldn’t have been more aware of Mulder’s magnetism as she hiked her knee around his hip and felt the sting of the mahogany trim as it struck her shoulder blades.

Scully didn’t want soft and slow and she knew neither did he, as his erection uncomfortably pressed against the remaining layers of clothing between them, inviting her warmth as her inner thighs quivered just enough to make his eyes roll back. Mulder thrust again and the punctuated cry was marked by the involuntary tightening of her fingers through his hair. The swirling of energy nearly toppled him over. Mulder let her feet touch the floor and looked down at her small, capable hands as they undid his jeans and pushed them down toward his knees before sweeping the soft material of his sweater up and away from his torso. He stopped to gaze at her and sighed into the drafty apartment at the delicate beauty that he had become so enamored with; exasperation, however, had become a prevalent frame of mind.

The pause was short lived as Mulder let his motions become frenetic and haphazard. He shed the last layers of cotton blends away from alabaster and blush before wrapping his arms around her waist. Scully held onto the wall as his thighs pushed against her, slowly sliding his cock past her slick folds until he had filled her completely. Mulder craved her proximity as he guided her legs a little higher, reveling in the electric heat as his unrelenting thrusts picked up speed. The intensity continued to build until it finally vibrated both framed pieces of artwork off the wall. On an ordinary day, the thudding of their frames hitting the floor might’ve been enough to stop every thrust that Mulder had made…but not tonight.

“Do you even understand…” Mulder’s voice came out in a growl, the sweat dripping down his temples as he locked gazes with hers and pinned her wrists above her head, bottom lip trembling with every syllable. “At all?”

“I had to try,” Scully’s fingernails were wreaking havoc on his shoulders, leaving blistering marks as she held onto him and felt the weight of his anger, his frustration, his unyielding passion as it bruised her backside with every grind of his pelvis into hers. “I couldn’t…not…try.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Mulder had tears down his face, betraying the gruffness he was desperate to convey as he moved a little slower, bucking his hips just enough to coax a throaty moan from her. “If anything bad…had happened.”

“I know…Goddammit, I know,” Scully’s fingers moved to his cheek, reclaiming his tenderness as he drove into her again, impulsively, and hopelessly sought possession of her affection, despite never losing it to start with. “I know.”

He didn’t want an apology or a semblance of redemption. He tipped the metaphorical glass and heard his name called to the rafters; he wanted to go back to the moment before the clandestine invaded under the veil of a continuously lit cigarette and a shroud of smoke.

Thanking anyone who cares to peek at this. Tagging @baronessblixen @today-in-fic @reasonandfaithinharmony @dreamingofscully @wtfmulder for the extra love love.

[charmixpower]

i can't believe i forgot what they did to icy in s5 😭 absolute crime!!

on the topic of the outfits, it usually bothers me a lot more if its transformations, bc i can totally write off casual outfits with 'oh, they're just matching besties!!' in my head. but like. you absolutely have a point! i absolutely adored the fact that they all had their own unique style in the earlier seasons. sigh...

and don't even get me started on the skbloom dRaMa with the memory loss and everything ugh pls just make it stop 😭😭

generally speaking though, i remember s4 making me more mad than s5. maybe bc i actually had expectations?? how do you feel about that so far?

love ya!! have a great day <3

Icy??? In s5?? Where??🙈🙈 /J

No but truly!!! How could they do that to number one alpha bitch!!! Darkar and Valtor made me mad enough but this is actually insulting to her!!!

Weirdly enough while I have bitched to infinity and back about the samey-ness of Believix, and rest assured I'm carrying that same energy into this season, the civilian outfits actually bother me more lol. Like I can understand a fairy form sharing things (ie the magic Winx chunky boots and the Enchantix gloves/sandles) because they do need something that distinguishes them as the same transformation, but with civilian unless their all dressing for one hyper specific event there is absolutely no need for any of their outfits to look alike

S1 Musa did it like no other and now look at what they've done to her. Crying in the club yall

OH MY GOD THE MEMORY LOSS THING IS JUST DUMB!! I love personal conflict in my stories because it provides depth and insight into each character's personal thoughts and life (season 2 my beloved), but this dumbass bullshit doesn't do anything of that!!! There are so many ways to have the girls be going though personal conflict subplots along with the main plot!!!! And you picked the dumbest fucking one!!! This is annoying me nearly as much as the dumbass Rivusa drama in s4

Sky and Bloom are royalty! Find drama there!!! Bloom probably needs to learn etiquette and shit, or maybe Sky needs to get into the Domino royal family'd good graces!!! Literally anything but more confession and jealousy drama!! We've been there and done that!! Find something that will show off depth and let us see the character from a new perspective!! This shit got stale in s3!

Oh s4 definitely makes me angrier than s5. Like I can never forgive s5 for the soft reboot, but at the same time if you look at the s3 personalities and the s4/5 personalities, it's very clear that the s5 personalities are closer to all of their og personalities

Like the weird ego all the girls got in s4, mixed with Musa/Stella/Bloom personality going out the fucking windpw, I can go on forever

But outside of a few incredibly annoying choice lines and all the fashion decisions, I can almost pretend that these are the same girls I love so dearly. I mean eventually s5 whacks me upside the head with another Musa line that makes it clear that no one at Nickelodeon or Rainbow gives a shit about her actual personality or fashion sense, but it's better than s4

It's not hard to be better than s4 but s4 couldn't manage it so credit where it's due I suppose

Love ya too Nonnie 💞💕 Have a great day as well!!

[lanxyuu]

I was rewatching Sayu's confession from Nagi no Asukara Episode 24 (as one does), and it made me realize how much potential that Kaname and Sayu had as a ship... and how much I wish that they actually had a meaningful bond beforehand :'((

Like, their personalities work so well together! Sayu's straightforward nature combined with her sharpness lets see through Kaname's passive, reserved demeanour that he always puts up. And finally seeing somebody with the insight and bluntness to actually call him out, and notice, his internal cycle of self-pity and bitterness and dejection is like... nice, and something that I think Kaname needed—especially considering how with his relationships with every other character in the show, the focus is rarely on him.

That "Stop acting like the tragic heroine!" and "Heroine? Not the hero?" exchange is one of my favourite moments from the confession honestly. Seeing Kaname's attitude and feelings finally being addressed? And through such a fun/witty but also direct remark? And his very in-character response of throwing in a joke about it, despite his feelings and situation? IT SHOWS BOTH OF THEIR CHARACTERS SO WELL AND IT'S SUCH AN CATHARTIC MOMENT AHHHHH

But it's not only that!! We've also seen that, despite her bluntness, Sayu's actually still pretty emotional. She's had quite strong emotional reactions throughout various points in the story (that fight with Miuna, seeing Kaname again for the first time, her outburst when they were discussing Manaka). Plus, she did act pretty shy and self-conscious around Kaname—overall showing that she does feel things strongly and gets influenced by her emotions.

So then with how calm, laidback, and levelheaded Kaname is, I can see him being the calm to mellow out and balance Sayu's intensity, the reassuring steadiness to her turbulence. This element is definitely similar to Kaname's dynamic with Chisaki, with him being the one to always comfort/console her—but with Sayu, she's still perceptive enough for this not to be just one-sided emotion dumping like it was with Chisaki and Kaname. And with her sharp tongue, she's still able to make responses back, which makes these types of interactions between the two of them more engaging and interesting to me.

Like this! He takes in her feelings, provides his own comfort in response, and you can see how she's overwhelmed by emotions as Kaname says he'll start seeing her as a girl his age, but still she responds with the quip of "You're pretty condescending, aren't you?"

And I just LOVE this type of dynamic as opposed to just crying, or flat emotional responses, you know? :""))) Being able to joke and banter amidst the heavy emotions... it just adds such a nice dimension to their dynamic.

And side note, I really like Kaname's response—he's not making any promises to her besides respecting her as a girl his age. Which is fair! This type of response feels so rare in romance anime (not that I watch a lot), and is pretty realistic, in my opinion. A "maybe". Get you a couple from a romance/drama anime who can handle confessions by responding reasonably and NOT running away in tears

And overall, the few moments of heart-to-heart we saw between the two of them during her confession showed a glimpse of SUCH a nice relationship.

[cont.]

Kaname: That big brother you admired is actually just a big kid.

Sayu: Don't go putting words in my mouth!

Like, there's just something about the... sheer sincerity of this, this mutual acknowledgement of the fact that they're both just kids (which is also a really nice touch/nod to the theme of their age difference, or lack of it now, after this and Kaname's response)... it makes me happy for them. This is probably the most open about his feelings that Kaname's been to anyone, the most he's shown the 14 year old boy inside that constant demeanour of maturity and composure he wears—that he was pushed to wear, living with Chisaki and Tsumugu, the literal adults that he had to find himself navigating alongside.

LOOK AT HIM

THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE'VE SEEN SUCH WARMTH IN HIS SMILE FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW. I'M SO HAPPY FOR HIM.

So anyways, yeah. I think Sayu and Kaname as a pair are amazing for both their personalities as well as the connection they made in this moment. But this brings me to my second thought about this, which is how much I wish that they actually had a meaningful bond before this moment :(

Because the significance of Sayu's confession to Kaname is so great—it was the first time he realized that somebody did care about him after all. But then I think about the fact that Sayu has feelings for Kaname... because he pet her head when she was 9? Like, her feelings obviously stemmed from an infatuation as a kid, one that lacked any real substance. They barely had any important interactions afterwards for the rest of the first half of the show.

And then after skipping forward 5 years, the fact that Sayu feels the exact same way, and the fact that her 9-year-old infatuation remained so strong that it became a factor motivating her to work hard in school? It just... I don't know, these feelings just feel so... baseless to me. Which makes me so sad! Because personality-wise they're such a good pair!

But as much as I want to suspend my disbelief to wholeheartedly love this ship, compared to Hikari x Manaka who've been close friends their entire lives, or Chisaki x Tsumugu who found support in each other through the 5 lonely timeskip years... it's hard for me to completely believe in Sayu's feelings beyond this childhood infatuation, you know? She talks about how because of him, she was able to work hard, so he wouldn't see her as just a little kid" and that "because of him, she was able to keep going". And her line "You were right here in my heart the entire time!"—as beautiful as it was—the fact that it's spurred on by a 9-year-old crush... I just can't fully immerse myself in it. And even though a long-lasting childhood crush isn't completely unrealistic, for a fictional story that's comprised of deliberate writing decisions, having it happen like this is something that I feel is unfortunate and just feels so much less meaningful than every other relationship in the show. I'm just glad that Kaname's response was reasonable and compelling, given the circumstances and his relationship with her in the moment. But if their bond had any build-up or meaningful moments, that would've been so much nicer imo.

But regardless, Kaname and Sayu as a ship are my favourite in the show, and even without what I wanted, I'm still glad that her confession happened. If you're here, thank you for reading! This anime really be leaving me with unresolved feelings nearly a decade later :")

[avengershumanresources]

blood 4 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 3 - part 5

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

4 - a reign

It was the middle of the night by the time Stephen returned to the observatory. He’d only meant to stop for a few minutes to grab a book Wong had asked for, before retreating to his quarters for some much needed sleep. 

That was, until he saw you sleeping soundly, sprawled over the cot he kept in the corner for those late nights he spent tinkering with spells and potions. A book on the mystic properties of herbs was open on your chest, lifting and falling with each gentle breath you took. 

By Vishanti, you looked so peaceful, a far cry from how you’d held yourself since the funeral. His chest gave a throb when you shifted slightly, snuggling deeper into the pillow under your head, a small shiver that made him wish more than anything to crawl in next to you and cradle your form in his arms. 

It was almost unbearable sometimes. 

He had his vows and duties, his status as a council to the king, your tutor, and a protector of the castle, while you were the eldest princess of this important kingdom. 

Though he’d been born of decent lineage, there wasn’t a world where he could feasibly see a long term future by your side. 

Instead, he settled on what he could have for now. Stephen would cherish these moments until some prince (probably Loki, as much as the thought disgusted him), whisked you out of his reach. 

“You’re thinking too loudly,” you voiced, opening your eyes and shifting the book off of your chest with a sleepy blink.  

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he explained, lifting the book he’d come for off a nearby table. “Wong needed a reference for shields at the border.”

You stretched your shoulders, slowly rising and sitting at the edge of the cot. You were still wearing your gown from dinner, suggesting you’d been reading there for quite some time. 

“How was the council meeting?” you asked.

He made a noise of disgust, crossing his arms and dropping into a nearby seat by the fire.

“Dreadful,” he confided in her. “I’m not sure where I can draw the line at my ethics as a sorcerer and stating clearly that this man is a maniac.”

Your expression darkened at his words. 

“What is he proposing?” 

“He wants to invite Rumlow to the castle to discuss a peace treaty during the coronation celebrations,” he explained, pinching the bridge of his noise. “No matter how many times Steve, Wong, and myself went over why that was a dangerous and reckless idea, he would remind us who is king. I thought perhaps he’d be more amendable to reason, but I was wrong.”

Listening intently, you looked down at your lap. Something else was on your mind and Stephen was afraid his words had confirmed some unspoken fear within you. 

“Peter was right not to trust him then,” you stated with a glance up at him. “Why would he bring that monster within these walls? To stand him where our father once stood?” 

That was the question Stephen kept asking himself while the other councilors and the king argued around in circles. What benefit did Obadiah get from such a conversation with King Brock? Perhaps it would yield some answers, but not any they couldn’t get from a more secluded, neutral location. 

“Was a final decision made?” you pressed when he fell silent. 

“Not yet,” he heard you let out a breath of relief. “We’re adjourned until tomorrow afternoon.”

“The ball is tomorrow night,” you jumped on the same point he’d made when Obadiah had dismissed the councilors. 

“Rumlow has a new Master Sorcerer at his castle,” Stephen grunted. “A lot of changes for a kingdom that pleaded innocence during our first inquiry into your father’s death.”

“What happened to Mordo?”

“No one knows,” Stephen sighed. It was the very reason he’d returned to Kamar-Taj. After news of Master Mordo’s replacement with the Enchantress from Asgard, rumors had circulated and a number of masters had approached him confessing they were nervous about what that meant. 

It wasn’t unusual to change Masters within a castle. Your father had done it enough after quite a few had resigned or been scared off by your ferocity before he’d arrived.

The problem was that the Enchantress had a reputation of her own, having been exiled of her homeland and banished from Kamar-Taj for abusing dark magic. Appointing her to such an important and influential role within a kingdom was beyond concerning, it was downright dangerous. 

It would be impossible to tell where Rumlow’s own ideas converged with Amora’s mystic control. He knew Mordo, while flawed, still had the good sense to provide sound council. From the beginning, Stephen had a feeling that the sorcerer hadn’t been involved in the invasion and attack on the kingdom that killed your father.

“Now what?” you queried softly.

“We stand on the defensive,” he admitted, taking your hand when he saw it shaking in your lap. Running a thumb over your palm, he met your gaze. You still looked uneasy and he didn’t blame you. This wasn’t a usual transition of power and he feared more deception was hidden under the layers. “This kingdom is resilient, and Peter is strong. Whatever arises, I’m more than confident we can stand against it.”

You pursed your lips, probably about to argue against him, but a quick sweep of his face and you let the issue die. He must have looked terrible to silence you so abruptly. 

“I should probably get back to my quarters,” you reasoned with a murmur, letting him guide you to your feet, hands still connected. The two of you stood silently, his hand wrapped around yours, waiting for the other to make the first move.

And Gods if he wasn’t so exhausted, he would have stood there an eternity.

“I can-,” he cleared his throat, withdrawing his hand and drew up a portal to your room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you flex the hand he’d touched before you stepped through, a small smile playing on your lips. 

“Sweetest dreams, Stephen,” you hummed with a small wave goodbye. 

“You too, princess.”

The portal closed and he froze, his heart beating ferociously against his sternum. 

In another life, you could have been his. 

Hell, if your father had returned from battle, there could have been a tiny flicker of hope. 

Tony had trusted him after all, requested him to the castle personally after you’d scared off the previous few Masters. 

There could have been a chance. 

Now? Peter would eventually need to marry you off to secure the future of the kingdom. It was your duty after all, your birth obligation as a female royal. 

You’d carry some other man’s child and, maybe, he would see you from a distance at a ball or royal visit. 

And Stephen would live the rest of his days in solitude. 

His heart aching for the princess just at his fingertips but never allowed to touch.

(—)

Natalia Romanov reasoned herself a fair woman. Sure, she killed for money and ran illicit goods across borders, but she considered herself just and never acted with true malice against the innocent. 

She had a personal set of rules that she held above any amount of gold, and those rules included keeping your name off of her or anyone else’s list of targets. 

Since the two of you had been young girls, only a little older than Princess Morgan now, you’d proven time and again that you were not only a trusted ally, but a dear friend. 

From the first time you caught her trying to steal some apples from the kitchens, you’d ensured her safety until she had been old enough to take care of herself. Even then, you were always more than happy to share your coin, a meal, or a jug of wine with the infamous assassin. 

So, when a threat on your life had been attempted, Natalia had taken that personally. 

The lead from the cook at the pub had been more than enough for her and James to work off of. Within a day they were on the mystery assailant’s trail and by nightfall on the second day, they’d traced him to an inn at the border of your kingdom and Asgard. 

She’d detailed the plan carefully with James earlier in the day. Wait for him to settle into his room for the night, bribe the innkeeper, and steal him away before anyone was the wiser. She had a cottage a few miles into the woods where they could interrogate him and dispose of a body, if needed. 

It was a nearly perfect plan, and Natalia was quite proud of it, until certain unpredictable circumstances had stepped in their way. 

Those circumstances being the younger Asgardian prince, Loki.

“I thought they’d closed the border,” James had grumbled, hood pulled over his face while they surveyed the inn from the street. “What is he doing here?”

“Maybe he fancied a drink?” Natalia joked dryly, watching the dark haired prince try to blend in with the crowd. To the untrained eye, he did quite well, slipping between the villagers as they fussed about, readying themselves for the evening.

Natalia and James, however, spotted him almost immediately. 

“I’ve never been fond of ale,” a voice noted casually over their shoulders. 

James instinctively threw a protective arm over Natalia, a knife spinning up from his fingers menacingly. As if that would be a threat against someone as powerful as the prince.

“I come as a friend,” Loki held up his hands, amusement at their reaction clear on his face. “Though I have to say, the more friends of the princess I meet, the better insight I’ve gained. Did you know she befriended a bard two towns over? How she does that will always be a mystery to me.”

“Scott?” James quirked a brow. “He’s great.”

“Quite the entertainer,” Loki agreed with a nod. “Shall we retreat to somewhere more private?” 

Natalia bobbed her chin toward the inn, and the men followed in suit, taking a seat in the back of the pub inside. She made a point of positioning herself in such a manner that she had full sight of the entrance and exit, ready to intercept the cook if need be. 

“This man you’re after, what do you know of him?” Loki asked, waving a hand and muffling the sounds of the crowd around them. Natalia was sure it was some kind of sound cloaking spell to the surrounding patrons. 

“How do you know we are after him?” Natalia challenged.

“I’ve been following you over the last few days,” he admitted casually. “When I heard of the attack on the princess and saw the sorcerer at the pub, I put two and two together. It wasn’t particularly difficult.”

“You’re supposed to be in Asgard,” James pointed out. “They’ve sealed the borders. It’s been hell trying to move anything around.”

“I am-,” his eyes glowing green. “In a way. The incident with the king was far too intriguing to ignore. Not to mention, there’s now this situation you two have stumbled your way into.”

“We don’t stumble into anything,” James countered sharply, leaning on the table with a glare. 

“You stumbled into the princess’ life and became attached,” he clarified, waving over a barmaid and ordering a jug of wine. “Don’t blame yourselves, it’s nearly impossible to avoid.”

“What do you want?” Natalia cut straight to the point. The man hadn’t come down from his room or tried to leave the inn just yet, but she wasn’t going to miss him because the trickster decided this was how he wanted to amuse himself. 

“To help of course,” he threw a charming smile in her direction. “This man isn’t a mere commoner.”

“Is he also a barkeep?” James guessed sarcastically, but Loki ignored him and continued. 

“He possesses significant magical energy within him,” he explained. “He has hidden it well, it was no wonder the sorcerer couldn’t detect him before. Fortunately, he’s lowering his guard now that he’s further away.”

That was certainly a challenge. Natalia and James had experience bringing in or even killing magic users in the past, but they’d been warned ahead of time. Without being able to prepare the necessary potions and restraints, capturing the elusive assassin would prove difficult. 

The barmaid placed the jug on the table and lit up when Loki pressed a gold coin in her hand. Her words were muffled to Natalia, but Loki seemed to have no trouble communicating with her until she stepped away. 

“As far as anyone is concerned, I’m drinking alone,” he explained. “The assailant has a meeting with someone this evening, I assume regarding the failed attempt on the princess’ life. I propose we follow him and find out who is behind this plot.”

“You think there’s someone else?” Natalia questioned. 

“He’s trying to break up his trail,” Loki stated. “Otherwise his route makes no sense. You did hear a magic user tried to kill the prince as well?”

“No, we hadn’t,” James exchanged a look with Natalia. 

Another complication. 

“I’m not a betting man, but I would wager it’s the same man. The timing between the attacks aligns perfectly.”

“How do you know about the attack on the prince?” Nat asked suspiciously. 

“Now Natalia, would you so willingly divulge your own secrets?” he smirked up at her. “Rest assured, my information is reliable.”

Despite this, Natalia was still suspicious of his intentions. Loki had a reputation for not only acting in his own self interest, but also toying with those in his association for the fun of it. The offer to help almost seemed too good to be true. 

“What do you gain from this?” she asked directly, narrowing her gaze. 

“You were too young to know during the last major war,” he replied quietly. “My people have long lives, and I saw the devastation and misery that brought upon the kingdoms. It is to everyone’s benefit that Prince Peter secures the throne and the royal family remains safe.”

“So you can marry the princess?” James asked stubbornly.

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t see you at the last ball-,” he started but Natalia held up a hand to quiet him. 

“You truly think this will lead to war?” she questioned seriously. 

“My queen mother has foreseen a number of possibilities,” Loki’s expression fell from its usual amusement to something far more somber. “Some happy, but far too many end in grief. It is an added benefit that I can help someone I consider a dear companion.”

“How noble,” James rolled his eyes. 

Natalia considered his explanation. They didn’t have much of a choice, especially if the man was a magic user. If she and James charged in like they’d planned, it would have ended badly. 

Loki, from the stories you’d told her, was a formidable magic wielder himself, having been trained by his mother and studied throughout the realm under the best magic teachers. 

Aside from the concern of betrayal, an issue they could address after they secured the man or his employer, she could see no downside to the alliance.

“Fine,” she stated with a nod. “We will work together until we have a better idea of what this man is capable of.”

(—)

For a kingdom nearing war, Obadiah had made sure his coronation was the grandest event in all the land. 

While it had been planned in haste, the ceremonies had been well decorated, the feasts extravagant and the ball- it was like you’d been transported to another world. 

The ballroom was draped in fresh spring florals, the table dressings matching in freshly pressed and cleaned pastel linens. The entire royal court had apparently found time to go to the seamstresses as almost everyone within sight was sporting some new dress or tunic in matching pastels.

And the masks.

In the spirit of revelry, renewal, and spring, the ball had ended up being a masquerade. The challenge to the guests had been to come up with clever interpretations of the theme. Many ladies and lords sported masks covered in fresh blooms, others used bright colors or exorbitant feathers that shot up in the air. 

Your own outfit had been something relatively conservative compared to the finest dressed of the ladies. You’d elected to pull out a lavender dress that had belonged to your mother and with the help of your maid, Violet (the irony was not lost), sewn violets, springs of lavender, and other color appropriate flowers through a simple silk mask.

All in all, it was a sunning event, even if it was in terrible taste. Though it seemed the esteemed of the land didn’t seem to care that there were villages that didn’t have a crop to prepare that season as they grazed the massive offerings.

You found Peter toward the edge of the ballroom, his hands folded behind his back and speaking with Lady Michelle. 

“Has he been behaving?” you asked the lady, appearing from behind your younger brother. 

“A perfect gentleman, your highness,” she curtsied with a light laugh. “We were just discussing the intricacies of poisons versus venoms. The prince seems to think they’re the same thing.”

“Are they not?” he exclaimed, looking to you for support. “They both kill. A snake can poison you.”

“A snake injects venom, not poison,” you clarified, earning a smirk of approval from the young lady. “You ingest poison, you inject venom.”

“You hang out too much with the sorcerers,” he complained with a scowl. “No normal person knows that.”

“Why, Lady Michelle knew that, is she not normal?” you asked playfully, watching in amusement while the prince tried to apologize profusely to the sniggering woman between you. 

It was almost as if you could look up at the front of the room and expect to see your father whispering something into the queen’s ear to make her blush. 

Instead, Obadiah sat on that throne, laughing at something a visiting Kree ambassador had said, guzzling at a massive goblet of wine. 

“I’ve never seen someone look so miserable at a ball,” Stephen commented, approaching from a conversation with Wong. 

You glanced around you, noticing that Peter and Michelle had stolen off out of sight, leaving you standing and staring around the room, alone. 

“That’s not true,” you chimed back. “Remember the first night we met? I was equally, if not more, miserable then.”

“Was that before or after Thor had trampled on your feet?” he asked, amusement in his eyes. 

“That was well before,” you stated with a chuckle. “I was expecting some stuffy old man. Low and behold I find a sorcerer who actually knew a thing or two about what he was teaching.”

“But am I a stuffy old man?” he challenged wit ha quirked brow. 

“Oh, definitely you are now,” you grinned back, noting the apparel he had chosen for the evening. 

Instead of his usual worn robes, he’d changed into the maroon colors of your house. The robes looked newer, seldom used, an he clearly taken time in picking his belts and other accessories, though his mask looked like it’d been selected at the last minute.

As if reading your thoughts, he thoughtfully touched the simple black mask around his eyes. 

“I borrowed it from Wanda,” he confessed quietly. “I’d nearly forgotten it was a masquerade and by the time I realized, the shops had all closed for the festivities.”

“I think it looks nice,” you assured him, the dark material making the icy blue of his eyes even more impressive in the glowing candle light of the ballroom.

“I’m amazed you found time to craft your own,” he commented, reaching and tussling one of the dangling strands of wisteria. “You do look lovely, by the way.”

Your voice caught in your throat, his expression was so earnest with the compliment. And you didn’t miss the way his hand lingered just close enough to cradle your cheek if you so inclined. 

Heart racing you did you best to regain your composure from the momentary brain hiccup.

“You look very gallant yourself, are those new robes?” you asked. His hand dropped and he flattened out one of the folds in his clothes proudly. 

“New in that they’ve barely been used,” he explained. “I wore them… once at Kamar-Taj and another occasion before coming here.”

“And here I thought you picked our colors on purpose,” you smirked up at him, tugging at his sleeve.

“Maybe I did? Someone has to show a little loyalty around here,” he huffed, catching your hand and pulling you out of the way of a drunken lord stumbling around the room. 

Pressed against him in the corner, your heart raced even faster (a feat you would have thought impossible). Eyes meeting, hands intertwined, his expression softened as he looked down at you. 

There was something about it all; the music, the lighting, the masks and intrigue, that made you want to fill the small gap between you. To see if his lips were truly as soft as they looked.

“Get a room,” Wong complained, breaking the spell. 

You ripped yourself away, remembering you were in public and being caught in such a vulnerable position would have been a scandal in its own. 

“Wong,” Stephen greeted, voice tense from the interruption. 

“The king wishes to see the princess,” the Master reported, obviously annoyed that he’d been reduced to the level of a lowly messenger. 

Exchanging identical looks of confusion, you bowed your head to the men and exceed yourself, moving toward where Obadiah waited at the far end of the room. He was in the middle of eating a massive leg of turkey when he spied you and dropped the food, opening his arms for an embrace.

“My dear, I feel we haven’t had an opportunity to speak since my arrival,” he stood up and pulled you in, his breath smelling of wine and mead. “Let me get a good look at you.”

He lifted your hand and made you give a small twirl, the way his eyes searched up and down your body made your stomach churn. 

“You’ve grown,” he stated when you returned to face him. “How old are you now? Twenty and five?”

“Twenty and seven,” you clarified. 

“And still unmarried?” he looked positively bewildered at the thought. “My late wife, gods bless her, was betrothed to me at her first blood.”

“My father didn’t feel the need to secure alliances with marriage contracts,” you stated, your adrenaline suddenly picking up at the direction of the conversation. “In that, I was able to make my own decisions regarding marriage.”

“And no suitors then?” he continued, reaching for his goblet and taking another large swallow. “What about the Asgardian prince?”

“Thor is betrothed to Lady Sif,” you explained patiently.

“No, the other one, Loki,” he asked, watching you for a reaction. 

Fortunately your mask hid any negative emotions that may have arisen from the suggestion. The idea had been tossed around between Odin and your father, especially given you’d practically shared a childhood between the two kingdoms. 

Unfortunately, despite the closeness between you and the prince, it wasn’t a love match and the kings had ultimately respected the decision. It was a fortunate outcome, given the power the two men had maintained respectively, even you could recognize and heir of a Stark and an Odinson would yield favorable means.

“It was decided we would focus on other endeavors,” you answered firmly. He nodded his head, considering your words.

“Then there is no one waiting for your hand? No secret rendezvous in the moonlight?” he laughed but you did not miss the way his eyes trailed to the back of the room where you knew Wong and Stephen to be standing.

“Why do you ask?” you questioned before giving a firm answer.

“A proposal has come up that I was considering on your behalf,” he explained briskly. “I wanted to see if it would be an issue. I wasn’t certain of arrangements your father may have made, so I figured I would ask you directly.”

A proposal? 

Your head spun at the idea. 

Right now? Just after your father’s death? 

You couldn’t imagine leaving your home, leaving behind your family, your siblings and your mother… and in this tumultuous time? 

“Is a wedding in the best interest of the kingdom, your majesty?” you asked sheepishly, all nerve and confidence draining quickly from your body as you realized that your fate rested in the easily agitated man before you. 

“I think that’s for me to decide,” he replied, throwing on a smile and laughing at your reaction. “I believe it’d be a wonderful match.”

“Do I know him?” you tried a different approach. Perhaps, if you were familiar with the gentlemen in question, you could offer reason as to why it would be a bad idea. 

“You know of him,” Obadiah replied, keeping his answers vague. “He’s agreed to meet with you in the morning, so enjoy your evening and we can discuss this more in the morrow.”

He returned to his conversation with the ambassador, ignoring your existence as quietly as he’d destroyed it.

Your whole body felt like it was drifting along a churning sea as you walked back toward your companions. Laughing partygoers danced and twirled around you. What had felt like a warm spell had fallen into a devastating curse.

Sensing something amiss, Wong excused himself, leaving you and Stephen alone, the latter suggesting you step outside to get some fresh air. 

Part of you felt foolish. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to spend your life as a spinster, not when you had been born into such a role of privilege and importance. Perhaps you should have married Loki when you had the opportunity. You knew him, he was safe and familiar.

There was no lust there, and to that, you didn’t mind. He could have had his mistresses. You…

“Your highness?” 

Stephen.

He looked to you with genuine concern, waiting for something- an explanation, a reassurance of your well being, and you had nothing. Your heart felt like it had shattered in your chest, the emotions so overwhelming and consuming all at once.

“I’m betrothed,” you finally choked out after leaning on the balcony for support. You watched him for a reaction. Anything. If he could give you a reason, convince you that this was something you should fight for yourself or even for him. 

“To who?” he barked out the question, his voice strained.

“I don’t know, Obadiah arranged it,” you explained with a frustrated wave of your hand. Taking a breath you shook your head, ripping your mask off and holding your head up in an attempt to blink back the hot tears that threatened to spill over. Stephen moved to your side, his own mask coming off. 

“Fight it,” he stated, taking your hands. “If you don’t want to wed, then push back against this madness.”

“He’s the king Stephen,” you reminded him in a harsh whisper. It went unspoken the fate that could await you if you went against Obadiah’s wishes. His grip tightened and he bowed his head into your knuckles. He was shaking. 

Please, you mentally begged. This was it. This was his last chance.

You’d known. 

Gods you’d known for so long and had done your best to push your own feelings aside. You’d hoped, deep down, that if the right time came your father would have given his blessing. It was the reason why you’d stepped away from Loki, and why he’d backed away. 

It’d been this unspoken affection you’d shared for one another that had seemed so innocent until now. Until you had to stare him in the eye and tell him that you belonged to a stranger.

“Regardless of who it is,” he started, looking up at you desperately. “Would you-? Would you marry willingly?”

“Say it,” you challenged instead. Say you don’t can’t lose me. Say you oppose this.

“Is that what you want?” he searched your face for direction, but the decision was with him.

Dropping his hands in frustration, you grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him toward you in a frantic kiss. If that didn’t make your intentions clear, you didn’t know what else would. 

He returned in a fervor, hands moving to pull you closer, taking the moment to taste fully what the two of you had danced around for nearly a decade. He took his time and you relished every moment of it, your soul wishing it could be bound in his embrace forever. 

When he pulled away, his hand lingered on the back of your neck and he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Then we stop this.”

And even if the promise fell through, or the world crumbled around you, in that moment- that perfect moment- you didn’t care so long as he remained by your side.

(—)

5 - a gift for the princess 

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

@ayamenimthiriel  @ladynothing @im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

[maldito-arbol]

It is occurring to me that the events of my life over the last 2-3 months are very much blurred together in an amalgamation of trauma and dissociation and depression and I can hardly remember me at all. Hey. Sorry. I probably need therapy.

My current update on life is: still living with a friend. It seems as though my parents are content in having abandoned me and harbor no desire to apologize nor to take me back. It’s hard to accept but by no means am I surprised, I’m simply tired. I have to rebuild my own self and my own life here, where I stand now. Rebuilding is hard, but I have to keep trying. It’s the only way I can keep myself from falling off the deep end.

In regards to work, yes I did end up quitting my job. I put in my two weeks and I served them despite them many many times tempting me to just leave and never look back—no, I stuck it out, and I earned my due pay. I thought work was hard before, but it suddenly became hell on earth once I made it known I wasn’t going to let them push me around any longer. I am still trying to understand that I deserve better, am still trying to comprehend that I CAN get better…it’s a lot. I thought if I wasn’t suffering then I wasn’t worth anything at all. And that’s just the way I was raised, the way I’ve been treated all my life from school to work to home. It took me a very long time to realize the people I was around were toxic, and when I did, I felt so sick I could almost die.

Guys, I don’t know how quite to express the way I felt and the way I feel, but I thought I should maybe give you some more insight to my life in a formal post rather than just disjointed pieces in the tags of my posts. So the long story short (though unfortunately still too long) is, I was trapped in an abusive home that eventually imploded and resulted in my eviction by my very petulant mother over a barely qualified for conversation conversation about politics. Because she couldn’t stand the fact that I didn’t want to listen to her. I’d hate to imagine how she’d react if I told her I was gay, or genderfluid of all things if she reacted this way over the fact that I lean left politically. Isn’t that incredible? After all the horrible things she’s put me through, physically, mentally, emotionally, she sees fit to kick me out because I snarled “I don’t care” when she attempted to sway me. It’s funny actually. I spent so many nights crying over something so pathetic. Maybe it’s because she’s my mother and her actions directly imply that I am a child unwanted by the one who birthed them, a child who was never truly loved or cared about in the way children dream of. That undying, uncompromising, unconditional love every human being desires. And in a perfect world it should be guaranteed by a mother, but it’s not. How cruel is it that I feel more loved by my friends’ parents than I do by my own? You know no matter what, they’ll never be my birth parents. There will always be that missing hole in my heart no matter how much I tell myself this is enough. Because I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved. And yet I crave it so much. So much that I was willing to be abused, to be put down, to be the punching bag to a miserable, uncaring woman who didn’t know the first thing about love. Even now sometimes I wonder how she’s doing without me. Does she worry? Does she feel regret? Guilt? Anything? Or does she simply go about her day thinking, “it’s no big deal, I have two more children I can ream in your stead.” As for my dad, I may hold off on getting into that whole rabbit hole, because I feel like I shouldn’t even bother giving him the time of day if he barely will even give me that. He is very very very tiring, and I fear I spent too long desiring a relationship that will simply never blossom.

I thought work was my escape. I thought that repetitive tasks would help distract me from my problems, would provide me something to live for, cause gods know I couldn’t come up with a creative reason myself. And yet, in a way, being mentally shattered once again by my mother once again taught me a little lesson about the other people in my life: if they act like my mother, they’re doing something wrong. And my boss, while different in many ways, shared a core of manipulation mastery that really should’ve bothered me from the start. And because I had been kicked out, because I’d moved in with people who genuinely cared about me, all of the sudden I saw how horribly mistreated I was at work. It was easier to write it off before, when I was treated worse at home so work felt like Heaven. But it wasn’t. It never was. How many times I fooled myself into believing it was. It’s interesting how being loved and cared about can show you just how poorly you’ve had it everywhere else. So when my sister quit because of another explosion of verbal abuse from my boss, I decided that was my final sign to throw in the towel. While she simply walked off the job, I allowed my boss to keep me for two more weeks; just to be polite, just to be professional, and I may have just shot myself in the foot in doing so. It’s quite a show manipulators will put on when they realize they’re about to lose you. When holding power and the high ground over you has been torn down, ripped away from them, you see truly the desperation, the lengths they will go to restore order and control over you. I was emotionally manipulated, gaslighted, bribed even in my final days. She had power over me almost to the bitter end, because I so nearly gave up and gave in so many times. I was emotionally broken, and I still am, but what frightened me so then was that she knew my weaknesses and she knew how to exploit them. She understood I was alone and scared and still picking up the pieces in my own life, and with that understanding came not compassion but the determination to squash me underneath her thumb. I needed a whole army of healthy people in my life to beg me not to rescind my decision, to prod and poke at me to follow through with my exit in order to ensure I made it out safely, though clearly not unscathed.

Of course I’m going to continue carrying the trauma from this, but I won’t allow it to be special. I’m going to dump it carelessly into a duffel bag stuffed with every unkind word and every bruise and hit from my mother, with every humiliation and heartbreak dealt by my teachers, with every fucking dumbshit rumor and practiced bullying technique from my peers at a whole variety of different schools and clubs and camps, with every user and moocher from friend groups past, and anything and everything that has left its lovely scar be it on my skin or in my mind. You struck me hard enough to remain for the lifelong flight? Cool. You’ll find your seat in the back with all the snot-nosed children and disappointed mothers and not a good enough view to provide entertainment for the whole trip. Eat some far too salty crackers and wonder what your life has come to. I hope you enjoy.

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Manga Chapter 104, Revised -- That wasn’t even clever!

What a treat this one was! :)

Story

It started with a ‘clever’ plan: to get the mercenaries out of the base without fighting any monsters by pretending that the heroes had been captured by them instead.  I nearly died with laughter watching Bushidrill try and fail to fake cry:

Ah well, nothing wrong with Plan B!  Commence the monster mash!

Unfortunately, monsters gonna monster, and the monsters decided that three heroes was one too many, surely Gyoro-Gyoro wouldn’t mind if they ate one. Whereupon heroes and mercenaries unleashed hell on the monsters.  With the mercenaries giving great account of themselves.  Now that they weren’t mind-controlled morons, they proved to be skilled fighters whose power armour boosted their abilities wonderfully.

We got a great insight into what working as a mercenary was like and how it differed from that of a hero. In a funny way, watching Nori crying as she strangled a monster as she reflected that they wouldn’t get paid if they returned without Waganma.  And also in a very unfunny way, when Captain Tongara elbowed Iaian in the face for coming up behind him, explaining that it was a reflexive habit developed in the course of guerilla warfare (more on this later). 

Then the ground got very sharp as Devil Long Hair brought the floor down. The fight that ensues is familiar from the previous version, but it’s much more nicely fleshed out.  The disciples sort out how to deal with Devil Long Hair in a means both wholesome and pragmatic, by leaning against each other’s backs so as to present a blade-bearing front with no gaps and start slicing away!

This time it’s left to poor Noria to get a shock as she sees Pig God eat both a monster and another monster that they’d chased round the corner.  Poor mercenaries!

Meta

My god, what a great treat for the eyes!

In a chapter filled with much to feast the eyes on (armour?  Are you sure that isn’t body-paint, hmm, Murata?),  I was most drawn to the great expressions on the disciples’ faces.   I have a special love for Bushidrill’s, fight me if you don’t agree.  You’re wrong, that’s flat! :) 

One of the things I’ve been dying to see is for Atomic’s disciples to better individuate themselves and now I’m very happy to see that we’re getting more of that.  Bushidrill is honest and forthright to the point that he’s called out on his inability to deceive (good beardy egg!).   Okamaitachi’s ‘thing’ for monsters is well-established, but I’m liking more and more her protectiveness towards the rest of her group.  And the contrast between Iaian’s leadership and his being the baby of the group, ah, what a nice dissonance!

I love that in contrast to the mercenaries, who look out for themselves, even as they considered their predicament, the heroes are still thinking of how to prevent the monster’s hairs from targeting the mercenaries above.  If you ever needed to know why heroes are different, this is part of why.

Super neat -- Bushi’s weapon!  I’d wondered how his drills work.  Aside from being blade-bearing cones, they also contain swords.  I’m not sure how practical it is, but damn it’s cool.

It’s not because they’re nice people that they’re still alive

It’s looking like ONE hasn’t spared the mercenaries simply because it’d be too mean to have Amai Mask kill them.   For the first, we can see why Narinki selected the group to go extract his son.  Even with few weapons left, they’re seriously competent. 

Given their fixation on rescuing Waganma if at all possible, I’m wondering if they’re going to try to take the kid with them if they make it back up to the surface in one piece.   The support heroes may well give the boy to them so as to be free to continue to sweep up the monsters -- originally they delayed leaving because they were reluctant to leave any monsters be so this could work out well for them.  Or not.  We shall see! 

Speaking of weapons, their body suits are near dead-ringers for those the Paradisers ‘stole’ from The Organization, as in they thought they’d stolen them but were actually providing free field-testing for them. Including the no-helmet design that was the downfall of both groups.

The manga is more self-contained than the webcomic. In the webcomic, the first time we heard about mercenaries were the Neo Hero security detail Destro and Erimin, in chapter 125.  Mercenaries not only show up earlier in the manga, but their role, fighting in guerilla warfare, tells us something. While soldiers are normally associated with nation states, people can stand private armies.  It’s more evidence of a government that has problems making its writ run.  Very interesting detail here. 

It also answers a question I’d had from the very beginning: just who the heck were The Organization making power suits for?  With private armies, there’s now incontrovertible evidence of a market.  There really is a lot of money for wearable weaponry.  And where there’s money, it’s worth killing people. The Organization has a representative on site, G5, who had had no problem using the mercenaries as a welcome gift to get into the Monster Association and had flogged their attributes like a salesman extolling the virtues of the latest kitchen appliance.   I wonder if G5 -- or another co-conspirator -- will come to collect their valuable battle data.

There are some very interesting and story-illuminating possibilities ahead.  I’m glad to see that some long-running loose threads might be tying in at last!

Overall, I have loved this chapter for the great character building, very nice action and the story possibilities it creates.  ONE’s getting everything he can out of every character.

[frankpanioncube]

Accidental Drunken Marriage Proposal

I like Mammon and Winter together. They’re ‘Just Friends’.

Winter sat at the table, staring at the glass half full...empty...of whiskey, or rather, past it. It was her second...or maybe third. The food was pretty good. The music was good. The human exchange student had come up with the theme and normally Winter could get behind some human world revelry. Yeah she could get why demons did this. 

The fact of the matter was that she wasn’t in very much of a party mood. Maybe those around sensed it as she’d been given a wide berth.

Maybe it was the fact she reeked of alcohol. 

Maybe it was definitely the fact she felt a little jilted given that the subject of her affections - one sports captain and Avatar of Gluttony was very obviously interested in someone else and she was definitely drinking away any temptation to be too envious. 

“Hey hey, what the hell? I been lookin’ for ya. S’party time…? Hey? Devildom to Winter? Second Circle of Hell cause soooomeone’s lookin’ mightly lustful Better look out for Asmo! Oh no yer sad. Sad Winter.”

“Huh?” A sort of faintly blurry brown skinned hand swam into view, waving in front of her face. “Oh...Mammon.”

The table rocked a bit as he pulled out a chair and slid into it. “Geez. I thought you’d be up for some fun at a ball, but I don’t think you can dance without falling over. So what’s eating you?”

Winter’s lip trembled.

“So what’s NOT eating yo--”

“Y’ever think...you’re going to…” Winter struggled to remember what she was saying. Whatever the blur was saying seemed unimportant. “Um…never...be with...anyone?”

Mammon shook his head. “Ohhhhkay someone’s pretty drunk. So.. Time to get ya outta here.”

“If...if I...dun...dun...uh...have a’yone else….we should get married.”

Mammon stumbled in the middle of hoisting her up and almost dropped her. Or maybe she’d stumbled. 

“Wit’ a biiiiig party…like this one. But better.”

Mammon paused mid eye roll. “And presents.” he mused.

“An’ lots of pres’nts.”

***

Winter awoke, her head screaming pain. Even an angel couldn’t shake off the amount of alcohol she’d consumed last night. 

This was her punishment for her indulgence. She brought a hand to her head, only to feel...fabric?

She looked at her hand. Why exactly was she wearing gold gloves?

Hopping up from the bed with confusion overriding her headache, she took a glance at herself in the mirror of her unfamiliar surroundings. A very...gaudy hotel room if she had to guess, but the full length gold ball gown and matching gloves and veil sat haphazard on her head offered her no clues as to what had happened.

Her DDD was in fact there, threatening to vibrate off the night stand. Maybe it could give some insight as to what had gone on and perhaps where the corpses of the award statues that had been skinned to make this dress were buried. 

She nearly tripped over a discarded pair of gold heels - clearly some kind of theme here.

There were hundreds of messages. And that was no exaggeration.

Lucifer: I must say I am not sure whether to refer you to a psychotherapist or to thank you for taking this burden off my hands. Rest assured I will not be providing any tacky or extravagant gifts. Weird. Lucifer offering gifts? What...burden had she lifted from him? They barely spoke and...her birthday wasn’t for months! Okay, maybe another one would offer more insight.

Winter scrolled randomly to the middle of the pile

Asmobaby: I would have loved to dressed you darling, but if that’s what you two wanted, I will respect that. And you looked lovely dear. You will have to tell me every detail of your night! I must know everything!

...so apparently she had WANTED to look like this. Her eyes zeroed in on the ‘two’. 

Sorry Asmo, I’m as in the dark as you are.

Beezleburger: I was surprised. If you want some time away from the team I understand. Congrats.

Time off the team for...OH….she’d been upset about Beel liking….but she hadn’t SAID anything. Not to mention if she had, he wouldn’t be congratulating her OR asking her if she’d like to take off time from the team. For WHAT? Couldn’t someone just tell her WHAT she had done?

Heavenly Father, this really was a punishment.

Belphie: Hey sorry we didn’t get you were depressed but there’s no reason to do something like that.

So. This was getting her nowhere fast.

She dropped the DDD into her skirts and sighed, but at that moment the door handle chose to turn.

It opened surprisingly slowly to reveal…

“Hey hey! You’re up!”

Mammon abandoned the door to slam, but he had a bucket of ice and right now she’d never been so happy to see anyone.

“Oh thank goodness.”

“What ya think I’d just leave ya here? Geez, that ain’t no way to speak of yer husband. What kinda demon do ya think I am?!”

“Shh, Mammon. Please, not so loud. I know you wouldn’t...I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

“What kinda--”

“No the...husband?”

“I mean after the workout you gave Goldie last night, I gotta say I better damn well be yer husband.”

“We…” And it was starting to come back. Mammon dragging her onto the table and yelling at the crowd. Stumbling with him into the limousine. The dress and the cake and all the champagne and the… “...top floor penthouse.” she finished. “That’s….all we did, right?”

She’d still looked very much like herself when she’d been looking in the mirror, but that dress was um...eye-catching. She put her hands in her hair as though to look for horns instead of a halo.

“Whaddya mean ‘that’s all’? That was like a threeway and everything was complete--oh US. Not a chance. You were very, very drunk Winter. I wouldn’t do that.” 

Winter sighed and sagged against him. “I know. I’m sorry, Mammon. I wish I remembered more of this...but headache aside, this is nice. More than nice.” It was too. Even the silly dress and well, if no one else appreciated Mammon, she always did. He was impulsive and a demon and The Avatar of Greed - one of the mortal sins, but he was her friend and he obviously wanted to be with her. “Thanks. Can I just rest properly...for a bit?”

He let her inch closer to him and she sighed, just a little. Normally it was the other way around wasn’t it? 

“Oi, don’t nap for too long...I can’t wait to get started.”

“S’alright…” As she drifted off, her last thought was “...for what?”

Winter woke up feeling much better. The dress and gloves had been discarded and Mammon had helped her into a shirt over the slip she had worn under the dress. The demon himself was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a mess of boxes and tissue paper. 

“What are you doing?”

He jumped and grabbed for a few things before relaxing. “Sorry I started without ya, but you weren’t wakin’ up.”

“Started what?”

He smirked. “Opening all the presents of course! I mean, like ya said last night. Big wedding, lotsa presents.” He jerked a thumb over at the wrapping paper and boxes.

The words hit Winter like a slap to the face. This wasn’t about her friend wanting to be with HER and indeed it never had been. And they called Mammon a fool. 

“Whatchya lookin’’ like that for? I mean, Marigold yellow I know, right, but ya don’t have to make such a scary face over a blender…”

“This was all about the gifts. Just that.”

“Was gonna share of course. I mean, it was your idea and it was a damn good one. C’mon…Plus I bought ya that dress, the party, the hotel room…”

“You have signed the bill “IOU ONE GOLD HEAVEN PAVEMENT - GOD.”

Mammon shrugged. “Hey’s custom fer yer dad ta pay fer half the wedding right?”

“That’s besides the point!” Winter hadn’t realized she had started to cry.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hey, stop...i mean don’t…”

“You are...a CRUEL demon and an absolutely MISERABLE excuse for a friend!” And Winter hauled her fist back and let fly, feeling the blow connect, but unable to see where through her tears and not caring to as she went racing from the room, out through the front and into the first taxi she’d seen, seeking out the one place she had for sanctuary in the entirety of the Devildom. 

The women’s locker room behind the stadium. Winter wasn’t JUST the only angel on the team, she happened to be the only female as well and so the women’s locker room was one spot she was guaranteed to never be bothered.

Mammon knew he’d done Winter dirty. The angel had always defended him, always had been kind. The blow she’d landed hadn’t even been hard but those words had hurt. He managed to check out, asking for the things in the room to be delivered to the House of Lamentation and set off for Purgatory Hall. 

He steeled himself and knocked at the front door. Who knew what you were gonna get in this den. 

“Mammon.Are you looking for Winter? I would have thought she would be with you. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Ugh, that’s just it. I uh...I kinda...messed up.” he muttered. “I wanna find her. I mean. I know I gotta apologize for somethin’ but I ain’t even sure what it is. But she’s the only one of ya I can stand and so I gotta figure it out. Cause like, she’s...my friend. But she was the one who wanted ta get married and get tons of presents an’ I gave her a great wedding.”

“She didn’t want to get married to you just for presents. Now I recognize she was intoxicated to the teeth but...I know something about having a best mate in the world whom you come to love.” Siemon’s expression was inscrutable. “And something about making a mistake with them. The longer you allow this to fester, the harder it will be to fix. So, I think you should try the ladies’ locker room at the stadium.” 

“I can’t go into a ladies toilet!”

“I think this time you should be allowed.”

And with that Siemon closed the door, leaving Mammon to his decision.

The demon went.

***

Winter deleted all the well wishes from her DDD, which had taken her mind off things for a while. The bench wasn’t comfortable but the silence of the space was nice.

Until….Did the door just open? 

“Winter? Okay. Before you tell me ta ‘go away’ just listen. I did think ya just wanted...presents. An’ a party. But I…” Mammon sighed. “Alright look. I didn’t need presents or a party to want ta be with ya. I kinda like ‘husband’ actually. Means you’re mine ya know? “

Winter looked at him, sniffling a bit again. 

“I’m that bad at this? Geez..”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just...do you mean it?”

“Swear it on Goldie.”

The angel got up. “Maybe we could have a small party. With not a ton of alcohol or grand extravagant gestures.”

“That’d be nice. An’ ya know I’m not the only one who's bad at this. I mean your first proposal was drunk and your second was in a ladies’ toilet.” 

“...well I suppose then you’ll have to make the next one. Perhaps in a moderately priced private hotel room.” 

@beels-burger-babe

[katecarteir]

Penny for your thoughts, dollar for your insights (Or a fortune for your disaster)

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] rating: teen & up word count: 7,173 summary: Richie is suddenly forced from his home, his kingdom and his birthright, and sent to live in a shithole town in Maine, he doesn't think he'd could ever be happy here. He's quick to learn that there's more in Derry than he'd ever expected. ⤹ a birthday fic for the amy (@eddiefuckinkaspbrak) 

Read on AO3

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @lermanslogan, @s-s-georgie, @transrich@eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays​, @anellope​, @thorn-harvester-ven​, @wheezyeds​, @vipertooth​, @tozierking​, @billdenbrough​, @starrystoziers​, @trashmouthtozierr​, @perseusjaxon​ @loserslibrary​ (let me know if you want added!) 

Richie Tozier was pretty sure he was barely even conscious when he was being dragged out the bed. It wasn’t his bed, because his bed was much higher off the ground with nearly a hundred more pillows than whatever this poor excuse of a mat had. He was pretty sure this blanket was wool, and if his head wasn’t pounding something fierce, he would be raising major complaints. 

“Prince Richard must go.” Charles, who had been Richie’s footman for his whole life and sometimes had more to do with Richie’s up bringing than Richie’s own royal parents, hissed in his ear as Richie clutched at his head. “We need to get away.”

“Away? Away from what?” Richie grumbled. It was mostly dark in the room but as they moved, little flashes of light showed through the long, dark curtains that informed Richie and the sharp ache behind his eyes everytime the light touched them, that it was very much daylight outside. “Can’t it wait? My head is fucking killing me.”

His parents had always begged him to control his cursing, and in their ideal world, he simply wouldn’t curse at all. It wasn’t becoming of a monarch, and if Richie wanted his people to love him, then he couldn’t go around cursing like a common sailor. Not that it mattered much, as Richie had ruined any chances of ever being loved by his parents’ people when he came forward and declared how much he loved dick. 

“I’m afraid it simply cannot wait, Prince Richard, I’m sorry.” Charles said desperately, nearly holding up Richie’s half asleep form. “There has been discourse in the kingdoms, and it seems it’s no longer safe for you here, Your Grace. It is imperative that you be removed tonight.” 

“Moved where?” Richie asked, suddenly feeling much more coherent. He and Charles stumbled out onto the roof of one of the taller towers of his castle home, and the sunlight burned so painfully that Richie was forced to squeeze his eyes shut. “For how long, when am I coming back?”

There was a silence from Richie’s footman that was only interrupted by the chopping noise that could only be a helicopter landing nearby.

“I’m sorry, Prince Richard.” Charles had to shout over the sounds of the helicopter as Charles continued to guide Richie over to it. “At this time, it’s a matter of your safety and your life. You will not be returning to Chamberlain.” 

Richie was dazed as Charles pushed him into the helicopter and somebody- Richie couldn’t even be bothered to figure out who- buckled him up. And even as it burned his eyes and made his actual brain throb, Richie watched the Kingdom of Chamberlain disappear from view. 

He couldn’t have told anybody how long the ride lasted after Richie couldn’t see his home anymore. Could have been hours, could have been days. Richie felt numb right down to his core, but eventually the helicopter landed on a large landing strip and Richie was being ushered back out. People certainly were being grabby with him today. And his head still fucking hurt.

A man in a formal grey suit was waiting on the tarmac and gave Richie a slight bow as he approached. “Prince Richard, it’s an honour to meet you.”

Richie forced a smile. “There is no need to bow, sir. I know little of what is going on, but it certainly I am no longer any prince. Just Richie is fine.”

The man straightened up and gave Richie a wiry smile. “My name is Donald Uris, and I’m part of a very private branch of the United Nations which works lands such as your kingdom, to provide safety and protection for those of royal blood such as yourself in situations like this. I will do my best to give you an easy transition into your new life.”

Richie nodded and followed Mr Uris back to a small, grey van parked the end of the turmac strip. Richie crawled into the backseat and buckled himself up. Immediately, Mr Uris was pulling out pieces of paper and handed them to Richie. Most of them didn’t make any sense to him at all, with numbers and dates and signatures but something did catch his eye near the bottom of the pile. 

CERTIFICATE OF VITAL RECORD. STATE OF MAINE.

TOZIER, RICHARD IRA. MARCH 07, 2003 M LITTLE CANADA, MN

Richie frowned. It was his name, sort of. His first name, certainly, but not last name nor his even middle name. Not his actual date of birth, but the correct year. He didn’t even know what a Little Canada or a Maine was, except that he assumed it was somewhere in America. Just like he was now. 

“The story we’ve come up with is that you are the son of my deceased sister, come to live with my family.”  Mr Uris said. “All these documents are everything you will need to be a legal citizen and navigate your life here in America. You’ve been enrolled in public high school, though I will warn you that their curriculum is likely behind that of your personal studies in Chamberlain. My son, Stanley is of an age with you and will be showing you around the school and the town and helping you feel at home.”

Richie flipped through the papers again, still not completely absorbing what they said. “Can you…” Richie started, then cleared his throat. “Do you know why I had to come here?” 

Mr Uris was quiet for a moment before he started up the van and began to pull away from the drop off. The helicopter was already long gone. “I don’t have all the information, Richard, I’m afraid. All I’m aware of is that an attempt had been made on your life, a very close attempt, and it was the belief of your parents and counsel that the best course of action would be to allow those who harm you to believe that they succeeded, and to get you somewhere safe.”

“They told everybody I was dead.” Richie said slowly. Another awkward silence settled in the space between him and Mr Uris.

“It’s not a cut and dry as that, Richie.” 

But Richie was pretty sure that it was. 

The Uris’ house was nice. Certainly no castle, but bigger than any of the houses in the village’s under Richie’s reign. Two stories, possibly with an attic. Large windows and front porch with a swing. A front yard with flawless green grass and white mailbox. A wooden fence separated the property to the neighbours nearly identical houses, and there was a large two car garage. Suburban bliss, Richie thought to himself, though he’d never really experienced suburban- or even urban- other than the occasional at times he’d sat down and watched American television.He’d never considered when watching to take notes, that it would end up being his life. 

It was only when Mr Uris guided him up the stairs, that Richie realized that he didn’t have any belongings. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt that he’d awoken in, possibly days ago, and he suddenly felt disgusted. “Mr Uris, I’m sorry to interrupt but I think I really could use a shower. And I don’t have any change of clothes or anything-”

“Oh yes, of course!” Mr Uris’ eyes widened as though surprised he hadn’t thought of that himself. “The bathroom you and Stanley will be sharing is just down the hall. I will tell you that my son is rather particular, so I ask that you did not touch any of his belongings. We placed shampoo, conditioner and soap in there for you already, and we will take you shopping for anything else you might need or if you don’t like shampoo brands we’ve gotten for you. The Aveeno products are all Stan’s, so please don’t touch them. And the same goes with blue towels and face clothes in the top cupboard, yours are in the bottoms cupboard. Your bedroom is on the left joining side, and there are some clothes in there for you. Nothing fancy or extravagant, but I think it will be adequate for you.” 

Richie blinked, information being thrown at him with no qualms. 

“This is it here.” Mr Uris opened the bathroom door and Richie was happy to see that it wasn’t much different than that back home. Smaller, but just as efficient. “Take your time, but we do have mandatory dinner at 5:30. You’re free to leave again after the meal, curfew is 11pm.”

Richie laughed. “Thank you, Mr Uris, but I don’t think I need to worry about curfew anytime soon.”

Mr Uris smiled back at him. “You might be surprised. My son has a nice little group of friends and I’m sure they’d be happy to have you along, Richie. Life here might not be as glamorous as royal life, but it’s not too horrible.”

Mr Uris left him alone to his thoughts after that, as Richie turned the water on as hot as it would go and stood under the burning stream. He still wasn’t sure he had un-numbed yet. Richie had never had friends before, not really. There were people around the palace, always, that Richie sometimes chummed around with but the only person Richie had ever really been close to was his sister.

The choking feeling of incoming tears hit Richie hard. God, Reed. He’d probably never see his sister again. She might not even know he was alive, but she was going to be being groomed for rule now. Thrusted into the position after the sudden loss of her only sibling, and her life would never be the same. Reed was sweet, pure, and Richie feared the pressure of rule could crush her. 

Richie didn’t mean to cry, but when he came out with dripping hair and red skin, his eyes were no doubt puffy and red as well. He wrapped himself up in the beige towels from the bottom cupboard and pushed open the joining door to the bedroom.

Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of two boys in the room. A thin boy with wiry blonde curls and a distinct nose and jaw line that made it obvious he was Mr Uris’ son, Stanley, was seated at the desk in a pastel blue button up and khaki pants. Lounging across the bed, in white T-shirt and red runners shorts, was a boy with day messy brown hair and wide brown eyes. 

“Oh, uh- shit.” Richie said, suddenly aware of his obvious nakedness besides the towel around his waist. He was glad his skin was already flushed from hot water, otherwise his blush would be horribly obvious. ”I’m sorry. I thought your dad said my room connected to the bathroom.”

“It does.” Stan said simply, turning back to the door he had previously been reading. “It joins on the other side, the left. I’m sure my father told you. Do you know what left is?”

Richie's mouth dropped and blinked hard at him. “I- yes I know what left is! I got a lot of information in a short period of time. I forgot.”

Stan stared him down for a month before he smirked. “It’s fine. You’re not in a blue towel, so you’re forgiven.”

“Is this your cousin?” Stan’s friend spoke up suddenly, and Richie was aware of how the other boys’ gaze was trailing down his torso. “Richie, right? I’m Eddie.”

Eddie held his hand out but Richie stared down at it awkwardly, his own hands still holding tightly to the towel around his waist. “Yeah, I’d love to shake your hand but I think I’ll do it a little less naked if that’s cool.”

Eddie laughed and that sound made Richie’s stomach jump. ”That seems pretty fair. Your room is on the other side of the bathroom. The bed is really comfortable by the way, I crashed there enough times to know.”

“Don’t mind Eddie,” Stan called over to them, his eyebrows pinched together like he found something deeply amusing. “He’s in the middle of a reborn and he’ll hit on anything that moves.”

“Well, it’s pretty convenient that I am able to move then, isn’t it?” Richie waggled his brow, tried to ignore the fact that he was naked and relished in the way Eddie’s freckled cheeks pinkened slightly. Richie made his way back into the bathroom and let himself into the room on the other side, the room that belonged to him. 

It wasn’t too different from Stanley’s, a double bed with a comforter set. A desk pushed into the corner and a large window with flannel curtains. But there weren't any pictures or posters on the walls, or awards or trophies littering shelves. It looked like exactly what Eddie had described it as, a guest room. 

Richie sighed and moved towards the double door closet and opened it to a selection of jeans, khakis, button up shirts and white t-shirts. Richie had never chosen his own clothes before, never really considered the option, and this didn’t feel much different. Instead of an assortment of suits, it was just a different type of wardrobe.

He threw on a pair of jeans, cringing when they came up a couple inches short of his ankles. He grabbed a white t-shirt and one of the button ups- pink and white striped- and left it unbuttoned. He shook out his hair that way he always did when he wasn’t forced to style it for some sort of event, and he knew it was how his curls looked the best once they dried. He grabbed a pair of plain white socks from the basket in the bottom of the closet and tugged them. He hung the wet towel on the back of the door and returned back to Stanley’s room.

Eddie chuckled at him the moment Richie entered back into the room, eyes glued to the too short pants. “Your pants don’t fit.”

“Yeah, my dick is so big it’s forcing the fabric up.” Richie shot off. 

Stan rolled his eyes in Richie’s peripheral vision but Eddie didn’t seem fazed. “Well you look like an idiot with them like that, let me help you.

Eddie dropped down to his knees in front of Richie, and Richie felt his face burn a bright red. Eddie rolled up the cuffs of his pants just slightly, enough that they looked short on purpose, and popped back up with a grin on his face. “There! Now you don’t look so much like an idiot.”

“Thanks, Eds. You’re really saving my ass.”

“Are you two done?” Stan asked, marking his place in the book and pushing away from his desk. “Because it’s 5:30 so we have to get to dinner.”

Eddie's eyes light up. “Mr Uris makes the best spinach pasta, you’re in for a treat.” He took off out the bedroom and downstairs towards the kitchen Richie had walked through when he’d gotten there. Richie moved to follow but Stan caught his arm before he could get anyway.

“Nobody in town knows who you really are except my parents and myself.” Stan told him seriously. “I don’t like lying to my friends, but I know it’s a matter of your safety so I won’t complain. I just ask you please try not to slip up. I don’t want my friends to think I’m a liar, and it’ll put your life in danger.”

“Your friends are the people who are trying to get me off’ed?” Richie challenged, simply for a lack of any other response. 

“The more people who know who you are, the more possibility of your identity getting out.” Stan said dryly. “You should take this seriously. It’s literally a matter of your life or death.” 

Richie learned within the week that it was actually rare for Stan to have his friends over to the house. Stan was always jetting out, returning home for his 5:30 dinners then taking off again until curfew. Mr Uris assured Richie that Stan was usually around the house more often that that, but it was the last week of summer vacation and he was trying to suck up the last bit of freedom he had left before going back to school. Richie wasn’t too upset that Stan wasn’t around much, Richie was still getting used to the entire situation. 

Richie’s first day in town, Mr Uris had handed him a cell phone and showed him all the sorts of apps. Richie hadn’t bothered to set up any sort of social media, but once Mr Uris showed him a music app called Spotify, Richie had been hooked. It was like having every bit of music ever released at his fingertips in a way that Richie had never experienced before, and it blew his mind that everybody had this sort of access here. He spent days just exploring the apps playlists, learning new artists and devoting hours to their entire discographies if he could. 

Richie had been so immersed in his music library that he hadn’t even noticed the door to his bedroom opening. Richie relished in the privilege to hide in his bedroom, something he was so rarely allowed to do back in Chamberlain. 

Eddie had let himself into Richie’s room and was grinning at him. Riche yanked that headphones out of his ears and sat up in the bed. Ever since Eddie had rolled up the cuffs of Richie’s jeans his first day in town, Richie had been trying to continue doing it with the too short selection pants in his closet. He never managed to make it look as good Eddie had. The cuffs usually didn’t reach the same length, one thicker than the other, but Richie didn’t mind too much. 

“Stanley isn’t here.” Richie said, resting up against the headboard of his bed. “I actually sort of thought that he was out with you.”

“We have other friends,” Eddie said dismissively. “I’m here to see you. Well, to steal you.”

Richie raised his eyebrows, legs starting to jitter under him. He stood up and moved over towards Eddie. “What like, kidnap me?”

Eddie smiled. “School starts tomorrow, you can’t go in with all these too small clothes. Come on.”

Richie frowned but let Eddie lead him out of his bedroom and down to where Mr and Mrs Uris were sitting at the small kitchen table with steaming mugs in front of them. They glanced up and only Mrs Uris seemed mildly surprised to see Eddie there.

“Edward, we’ve told you that you don’t need to sneak in.” Mr Uris said, voice dripping with amusement. 

“Sorry, sir, force of habit.” Eddie chuckled. “Richie needs new clothes.” 

Mr Uris blinked and glanced at Richie, two short jeans and button up shirt and chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, Edward.” He stood and pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his pants, pulling out a slick bank card. “Go ahead and get whatever you need to within reason, but from here on out, if you want spending money you’ll need to do chores like Stanley does.”

Richie blinked. He’d never done any sort of housework before, but he didn’t think he should point that out. He still wasn’t sure what was considered normal, and what wasn’t, and he was pretty sure that not owning any clothes that fit him fell under the “not normal” category. The last thing he needed was to make Eddie suspicious of him, when it had been made very apparent that Richie should be doing everything in his power not to be drawing unwanted attention to himself.

So he let Eddie guide him to the closest bus stop, and pretended to his best ability that he’d taken a bus before at any point in his life. The mall didn’t seem to be anything overly impressive, a long straight hallway with stores. Mostly clothing stores, but there were two or three cell phones shops as well as a bookstore. There was a single As Seen On TV! Store that caught Richie’s eye, but Eddie quickly shoved him into the first clothing store. 

“Okay, you need jeans. What size are you?” Eddie guided Richie over the long table with pair and pair of denim pants laid out across it, in different shades of blue and some black. Some were already ripped through the knees and thighs and Richie frowned at them, reaching out and putting his fingers through the rips in the fabric. 

“Richie?” Eddie prompted again, startling Richie out of his wonder. 

“Oh, uh…” Richie frowned. “Tall?”

Eddie crinkled up his nose and shook his head, before looking Richie up and down slightly. “How does somebody not know what size pants they are? Here.” Eddie started scooping up different pairs of pants in the same style, and tossed them into Richie’s arms. “We’ll get a dressing room, try them all on and you’ll figure out pretty quickly what fits and what doesn’t. We can go from there.”

Richie felt beyond embarrassed to have to ask the workers for a change room, and even more embarrassed to be changing down into his underwear with Eddie standing just outside. Whenever Richie had gone for a fitting before, it had always been himself and his stylist aside from any occasional time his mother would show up to pass her own judgement on whatever they were trying to put Richie into. 

He eventually did figure out however, that his pant size was and Eddie quickly started tossing him as many pairs of pants as was allowed in the changing room at a time. He liked the pants that were tighter in the legs and ankles, and while he didn’t really understand why somebody would buy jeans that were already ripped, he couldn’t deny there was something he enjoyed about it when he looked at himself wearing them in the dressing room mirror. He got two pairs of the blue ripped jeans, and another two pairs of the regular jeans, one in a dark blue and one in black. 

Eddie nodded with a satisfied smile. “Sweaters and shit are all on back to school sales, so this really is the best time to shop for anything.”

Richie reached his hand out and touched one of the sweaters on the hooks. It was soft, and checkered black and white. He noticed Eddie wrinkled his nose as Richie gave it attention. “It’s not good?” He asked. He wasn’t sure why stores would sell clothes that weren’t nice, and something about the pattern called to Richie, but he wouldn’t want to wear anything that would make him look wrong. 

“I wouldn’t wear anything like that.” Eddie said. “But it doesn’t matter what I like, it’s what you like. Get it if you want it.”

Richie turned back to the sweatshirt and smiled slightly. He’d never had this sort of freedom with clothing before, and he pulled the sweatshirt from the rack before proceeding to grab the clothes with the brightest and wildest colours and patterns he could find. He watched Eddie get more and more amused as they moved through the store. 

As the cashier rang them through, Eddie turned to Richie. “Do you need anything else for school?”

Richie frowned. “What would I need?”

“Uh-” Eddie faltered and Richie realized he’d asked a “not normal” question. “Like… pens and paper? Binders?”

“Oh!” Richie said, trying not to flush as he put Mr Uris’ card into the machine and put in the four number code he’d given him on his way out the door. “No, no. Mr and Mrs Uris have that stuff coming out of their asses, I’m pretty sure.”

Eddie chuckled. “I don’t think I doubt that. We can just pick up some new shoes for you because you’ve been limping around in those sneakers all day like they’re two sizes too small.”

They were just a pair of black sneakers that Mr Uris had from when he’d gone through a short period of thinking he wanted to go to the gym, and they were certainly hurting Richie’s feet. Eddie led Richie down that long hall again to a store that seemed to sell only shoes, and a pair of thick black boots caught Richie’s eye immediately. 

He tried them on, going a full size higher than the sneakers on his feet, and Eddie made him walk and also buy a pair of sneakers because he assured Richie that they were much more practical than the boots. After they finished, Eddie even helped Richie carry his bags onto the bus and back to the Uris’ house. Richie excitedly unloaded all the new clothes and shoes into his closet, and felt a warm flutter in his chest when he thought of going to school the next morning. 

He was significantly less impressed with the thought of school when he was dragged out of bed by Stanley at 6:30 the next morning. He threw the first things he saw in the closet, one of the ripped blue jeans with a shirt covered in Hawaiian flowers that was so large on him that it reached the middle of his thighs and threatened to slip off his shoulder. He tossed his hair up into a half-hearted bun on top of his head that he knew would be mostly fallen out by the end of his day and graciously accepted the buttered toast and orange juice that Mrs Uris handed both Stan and Richie as they were being ushered out to Mr Uris’ car. 

One of the only other vehicles sitting in the parking lot when they arrived was a big red truck. The paint was chipping on the sides, and a group of teenagers were standing around it and sitting in the bed. Stan gave his father a quick goodbye and took off running towards it, while Richie hesitated in the back seat of Mr Uris’ Sedan. 

Mr Uris’ caught his eye in the rearview mirror. “If you’re not ready yet, you can take another day off at home. I know this must all be a lot.”

It was, but Richie cleared his throat and unbuckled himself. “No, uh… It’s probably easier to be the new kid on the first day right? Instead of coming in when classes have already started?”

Mr Uris’ smiled. “It is, yeah.”

Richie gave his new guardian a thanks as he slid out of the car and walked slowly over the group of teenagers that Stan had rushed over to. 

“Hey, Richie!” 

Richie sighed a breath of relief when Eddie called out to him. While he’d known that Eddie was going to be at school with him- there was only high school in town- it was still nice to see Eddie was already there, meaning one less introduction. 

“Guys, this my cousin Richie.” Stan said, lying with such ease it startled Richie. He smiled as Eddie gestured for him to climb up into the bed of the truck and sit down beside him. “I told you he’d be coming to live with us. Richie, this is Mike, Ben and Beverly-” He pointed to each person in turn. “You already know Eddie, and Bill should be coming but he’s late because that’s who he is as a person.”

Mike gave him a toothy grin. “Bill isn’t always late, I usually pick him up but I learned a long time ago not to bother trying on the first day of the school because it would just mean we’d both miss the first period.” 

Richie laughed. Eddie leaned into Richie’s space, chin resting on Richie’s shoulder. “Mike and Bill are together,” he whispered in Richie’s ear as the conversation around them swirled into what their first periods were. “We all pretend we don’t know, but they’re not subtle at all.” 

The parking lot was quickly filling up with cars and people, and Eddie kept his chin on Richie’s shoulder. “Ben has had a crush on Beverly since like sixth grade when he moved here.” Eddie continued whispering his friends' secrets to Richie as they talked obliviously. “She and Bill dated for like, three years or something, though, it’s just something we don’t talk about. We don’t talk about how Bill and Beverly used to date, either, but it makes Beverly really awkward.”

Richie nodded. “No talking about the love square. Got it.”

Eddie giggled directly in Richie’s ear and it really couldn’t be healthy how his heart jumped, skipping a full beat. 

It actually surprised Richie had quickly he got the hang of his new life. Mr Uris hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that their education system was behind that of Chamberlain, and Richie quickly rocketed up to the top of their class. September turned into October, and people stopped giving Richie weird looks in the hallways and started asking him for homework help instead. Beverly officially caught Mike and Bill on a date, and the not secret-secret officially became open knowledge amongst Stan’s friends. Stan got a crush on a girl in his and Richie’s AP math class, and Richie teased him about it mercilessly, but Richie was still the first person Stan came to when he asked her out and she said yes. 

As the end of October loomed nearer, Richie quickly realized he rarely spent any time away from Eddie Kaspbrak. They had most of their classes together, and Eddie was over at the Uris’ house almost everyday after school if the group wasn’t all hanging out. Just a couple days before Hallowe’en, Eddie had invited Richie to see some horror flick and paid for the entire thing. He’d gotten scared and spent half the movie with this face hidden behind Richie’s shoulder, and the fluttering in his stomach kept Richie up almost the entire night after he’d gotten home. 

Hallowe’en came around and Stan ordered Richie a costume to match all the rest of their friends. They weren’t doing anything like Hallowe’en on American TV, not trick or treating or going to some sort of intense rave in costumes that were basically half naked. They’d all gotten oversized sweaters with Pokemons on them, each of them a different one, and they were all going to have a sleepover out at Mike Hanlon’s family’s farm. 

Richie had had a few other sleepovers since he’d come to Derry, but this was the first time that Eddie was going to be there all night. Eddie’s mother rarely let him out of the house overnight, and Hallowe’en was one of the occasions that Eddie felt important enough to argue with her over his sleepover rights. Richie was stupidly excited and painfully nervous. 

Richie had never really had a crush on somebody before, certainly not like this. He was only a drink or two into the mix that Mike and Bill had somehow provided and Richie was feeling a buzz under his skin that he did not associate with the glasses of wine he’d be allowed to drink with meals back in Chamberlain, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Eddie across the campfire in his huge Squirtle sweater. 

Richie couldn’t think of any good reason not to, so he crawled around the fire and settled at Eddie’s side. They pressed together from knee to shoulder and Eddie turned to give Richie a slow smile. He was still nursing his drink of the evening and his eyes were bright and alert. “Hey, Togepi.” He said, grinning down at Richie’s sweater.

“I think it’s kind of bullshit that my sweater is the only one that’s white.” Richie said with a sigh. “I’m probably the most likely to get myself dirty.”

Eddie waggled his brow and licked his bottom lip before pulling his drink back up to his mouth and taking a long sip. “It’s eggshell, not white. You’re a fucking egg.”

Something about Eddie deadpanning the term you’re a fucking egg hit Richie hit in the giggles, head dropping down onto Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie shivered as Richie’s breath blew across his neck and suddenly the rest of the sounds in the barn seemed to fade away around them. 

Richie lifted his head slightly, and Eddie’s hand came out to rest on his cheek. Richie was pretty sure his heart was in his throat as Eddie leaned into him, but he still found himself- “Eddie, wait.” Richie breathed out. He didn’t want to do it like this, he couldn’t. “I… I have to tell you something. I’m not who you think I am.”

Eddie blinked at him, not pulling away or lowering his hand, but pausing his motions forward. Richie inhaled slowly. “I’m not Stanley’s cousin. I’m not… I’m not related to him at all. I’m… okay this is going to sound insane but I’m actually a … prince.”

Eddie’s hand fell from Richie’s face, dropping to rest on top of Richie’s hands in his lap. “Okay, please, I know this sounds absolutely crazy and you can ask Stan if you need to. I mean, he might lie actually, I’m not sure. I was sent here for my own protection, people in my home country were trying to kill me. Maybe for being gay, maybe for something else, but probably for being gay. I’m not supposed to tell anybody who I am, but I didn’t want you to- I didn’t want us if you didn’t really know who I am because that’s not fair to you. Even though you probably think I’m fucking nuts now.”

Eddie sat there a long moment, just looking at Richie’s face. If Richie had thought Eddie had got his heart racing before, it was certainly nothing compared to how raced with panic now. “I should think you’re fucking nuts.” Eddie said slowly. “But I actually believe you.”

“What?” Richie asked, voice coming out more of a gasp than actual words.

Eddie broke into a shy smile. “It actually makes a lot of stuff make more sense. Like how you moved here without so much as a pair of shoes to your name, and you didn’t know who Lady Gaga was.” 

Richie chuckled and Eddie’s thumbs brushed over the backs of Richie’s hands. “Thank you for telling me, honestly. I really like you, Richie… and I wanna like you for who you are. Whoever you are.”

“I really like you, too.” Richie said, feeling himself blush. “I don’t think I’ve ever liked somebody like this before.”

Eddie beamed. “Can we makeout now?” 

“Oh. I don’t… I really don’t know how-” 

Eddie smirked and reached up to tangle his fingers in Richie’s black curls. “Oh, I think I can show you the ropes.” He tugged Richie in to connect their lips, and Richie was a little shocked to realize how quickly instinct took over. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there with Eddie, could have been hours, or just minutes, but he was brought back into the reality of the party around him when a marshmallow hit him in the side of the head. 

“Kaspbrak!” Stan shouted from across the fire. “Get your tongue out of my cousin’s mouth!” 

Eddie joyously flipped Stan the bird before pulling Richie in for another kiss. 

November flew back in a haze of Eddie and colourful leaves. The snow began to fall and Richie began to learn all about Hanukkah from his new found family, and about Christmas from his boyfriend. The amount of things that took place in such a small period of time at the end of December was a little dizzying for Richie, and he expressed as much to Mrs Uris one day as she was helping him making real hot cocoa for himself and Eddie. 

“Nothing is expected of you, Richie.” Mrs Uris told him gently. “We know that this must be weird for you, the holidays away from your family. I’m sure Eddie knows it, too.”

Richie’s ears burned slightly. It had taken all of three days into his and Eddie’s relationship for Richie to confess to Stan and the Uris’ that he told Eddie the truth about who he was. Stan had been supportive and happy for him, while Mr and Mrs Uris had still been apprehensive about Richie sharing that information. Stan had tried reminding them they’d known Eddie since the other boy wore diapers, but they’d still been concerned that it put Richie’s safety at risk. 

“Richie…” Mr Uris called from the front foyer of the house. “Can you come here, please?”

Richie stepped towards Mr Uris, only to freeze at the sight in front of him. Shedding out of long grey trench coats were Richie’s parents and younger sister, Reed. She gasped at the sight of him, and flung herself into his arms without a care of the snow still hanging off her. Though shocked, Richie didn’t have any hesitation in wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tight squeeze. 

“Rich?” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind him and Richie slowly pulled away from his sister’s embrace. Eddie was standing at the bottom of the stairs, Stan and his girlfriend, Patty, just behind him. Mrs Uris was hovering nearby in the doorway between the kitchen and the front hall.

“These are my parents, and my baby sister.” Richie smiled at them and reached his hand out behind him for Eddie. Eddie shuffled over and grabbed hold of Richie’s awaiting hand. “You guys, this is Eddie. My boyfriend.” 

Eddie smiled bashfully at them, only half hidden behind Richie’s figure. Reed let out a delighted gasp while his parents donned polite smiles. 

“It's lovely to meet you, Eddie.” King Wentworth said, sounding genuine enough. His parents had been loving and understanding when Richie had come out to them, and he knew that most of their wants of Richie to keep things shushed was out of concern for his safety. Rightfully so, it would seem. “Richard, we come with news.”

Richie raised his eyebrows at them, finding himself struggling to slip back into the formal person he knew he should be right then. “Yeah… Uh yes, okay. Let’s sit.”

The merged families sat around the sunny Uris’ living room as Mrs Uris offered everybody their selection of drinks. 

“I’m afraid we cannot stay long,” Queen Margaret said sweetly, patting at Mrs Uris’s extended hand. “The royal family cannot all be absent from their places for long. We have pressing issues to discuss with Richard that must have been said in person.”

Eddie squeezed Richie’s knee, and Richie leaned to the side to press a soft kiss to Eddie’s cheek. There was a burning feeling in his gut that told him this was going to get messy.

“We have found the culprit who was making the attempts on your life.” King Wentworth said, eyes only for his son. Richie felt a chill run down his spine. “It was Lord St George of Little Tall Island. He was unhappy when the bethoral between yourself and his eldest daughter, Lady Selena, and he seemed to believe that it would be better to have you dead then it be revealed that you have rejected his kin.”

Richie only dimly remembered Selena St George. A mousy girl with long braids, they’d met only three or so times, and he felt she’d said an equal amount of words in his presence. 

“We have him contained and he’s awaiting a trial in our dungeons.” King Wentworth continued. Richie heard Eddie whisper the word dungeon in awe at Richie’s side. “We wanted to let you know that, should you choose to return, it is safe for you.”

Richie was sure for a moment that he’d misheard, but the way every eye in the room was trained on him promised that he hadn’t. “Go… Go back to Chamberlain? I thought… didn’t you tell everybody I was dead?”

“Yes, when we believed it unlikely we would ever find the person responsible for the attempts on your life,” Queen Margaret said softly. “We have found him, and there is no reason to carry on the charade that you’ve been lost to us.” 

Richie swallowed audibly. “You said if I choose to, you mean it’s up to me?”

The King and Queen exchanged a look with Mr Uris. “Donald told us much about how you’ve grown the past four months. That you seem… happy. Adjusted here. We would love for you to come home with us, but Donald’s stories prompted us to wonder if that would be what make you happy.”

Richie glanced at his sister, who smirked and pointedly looked in Eddie’s direction. Richie’s boyfriend was sitting stalk still beside him, pale and pressed against his side. Richie thought of their relationship, how they’d only just begun to fall for each other, and he thought of sneaking into Stan’s room at night to talk even though he pretended it annoyed him. Thought of all the clothes in his closet upstairs, every single one picked out by him for him. He thought of Mike, and Beverly and Ben and Bill, the first real friends he’d ever had. He thought of the stories that Mrs Uris and Eddie had told him of Hanukkah and Christmas, and how even though he was nervous about it he wanted to experience the holidays. 

“I.. I think I want to stay.” Richie said slowly, looking at Mr and Mrs Uris. “If that’s okay.” 

“You are more than welcome to stay, Richie.” Mr Uris assured him with a fond smile. 

“You need to be sure that’s what you want.” King Wentworth leaned forward and rested his hands on Richie’s knees. “If you do wish to stay in America, we would continue forward under the premise that you have died. For your safety and your privacy. The privacy of the family who took you in and your friends. We would charge St George with your murder rather than simply an attempt, you would not be able to ever return to Chamberlain.”

Richie’s stomach tensed for a moment before he remembered a simple fact. “I already believed that to be true.” Richie said in his most princely voice. “I had accepted that I would never see you or Chamberlain again months ago, that was what they told me when I came here. I made my own life, and I love it. I love the people in it.” Eddie’s head came down and rested gently against Richie’s shoulder. “And I love you guys, too, so much but I… I don’t want to be a prince, I don’t want to rule or any of that shit. I’m not built for it. This is the life I want, and Reed will be an amazing Queen. Better than I could ever be a King.” 

Reed gave him a tearful smile. “You know it, big brother.”

“That’s your final decision, son?” King Wentworth asked his only son. 

Richie made only a second of eye contact with Stanley, who offered him up a half twitch of a smile. “Yeah.” Richie said happily. “It is.”

[saidelia-draconis]

♣ - a fading memory

  The waning light of the torch was slowly losing ground to the onslaught of shadows creeping in from the corners of the room as Saidelia tended to her duties. The young girl was nearly finished what little work she had for that day. Settling into a new routine was of little consequence. She was just grateful to be somewhere new.

  The quiet monastery was undoubtedly a change of pace. Much of the work was similar; menial tasks, fit for children. There was less coercion from those around her. She didn’t seem obliged to fret as much. Not that it stopped her. The priests, paladins, and other gentle types seemed genuine, if not a little disconcerting. There was an air of naivete about them that even the child could sense. Though perhaps they were adapting to their audience. She was hardly old enough to work, and yet one of the oldest there. She was inarguably one of the more dispirited subjects. She often kept her gaze on her feet, scurrying by any who roamed the same halls as her. She was dutiful as she was evasive, keeping out of sight and seeing to the tasks assigned to her.

  Her evening was spent on hands and knees, peeling wax off of a votive stand, dropping each globule of solid wax into a bucket. A soft metallic clang followed each deposit. Saidelia faced towards the inlet that housed the table when she heard footsteps approaching. The soft clatter of hard leather soles against the aged stone grew louder. Saidelia kept her head down, continuing her work. She didn’t react until she heard the soft voice behind her.

“Evening. Is everything alright?”

  Saidelia turned, glancing over her shoulder to meet with the voice. Something about it filled her with dread and made her hair stand. To her horror, the woman was gaunt, her eyes sunken. The pallor of her skin was a sickly, ashen hue. There was an otherworldly presence to her. It made Saidelia uneasy. A detail that hardly escaped the woman. The elder monk bit her cracked lip. Black sludge exuded from it. She stepped back, crouching down to Saidelia’s level. She kept her back straight, her black surplice emblazoned with a brilliant gold star on display. It did little to put Saidelia at ease.

“Apologies, my dear. I sometimes forget my... Appearance. Would you prefer if I wore my hood?”

  Saidelia did not answer, staring at the revenant with a stunned, silent gaze of terror. The older woman smiled plaintively, slowly drawing her black hood up over her brow. Only her unsettling jaw was visible. The priest studied the girl for a few moments. After a moment, a soft ‘ah’ escaped her lips. What Saidelia could see of her lips curled into a smile.

“I recognize you. You’re our new squire. It’s... Saidelia, is it not? You’re Sir Dominicus’ protégé, if memory serves.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

  Saidelia’s voice was small, meek, and unassuming. All at once, the woman’s demeanor changed. Her movements grew slower and less subtle. Her posture eased, a slouch appearing in her shoulders and shirking some of the authority her stature seemed to draw. Her hands clasped together over her extended, bony knee. The tips of her fingers had worn over time. The pads of her fingers had worn away, leaving only off-white stubs that Saidelia was forced to assume were bone. She simply nodded with a subtle ‘hmm’ that provided no insight. A hand slowly moved to point at the bucket, filled with dried candle wax.

“What are you working on, Miss Saidelia?”

“I’m uh - I’m cleaning wax, ma’am.”

“It’s a little late, wouldn’t you agree? Dinner is just concluding. Have you eaten yet?”

  Saidelia was hardly keeping track of time. She blinked, glancing around. A sliver of pale moonlight was visible through the slats in the stone that gave a view of the gardens. Saidelia was suddenly trying to remember when she had started her work. After a few moments, she slowly shook her head. The priest tsked softly. She slowly stood, her hands outstretched as she rose.

“That won’t do. Come, let’s get you something to eat. Whatever work you have or haven’t done can wait until tomorrow.”

  She extended a sallow hand, withdrawing it at the notice of Saidelia’s trepidation. She chuckled, a throaty, and practiced chuckle that seemed more for show than genuine emotion. She took a step back, beckoning for Saidelia to follow. The girl acquiesced, leaving the bucket at the woman’s instruction. The pair strode the dark halls in silence before the priest spoke.

“You’re not the only one, you know.”

“Ma’am?”

“Afraid of me.”

  Saidelia remained silent, nodding softly. She hadn’t the gall to admit to the woman that she found her unnerving.

“You’re safe here. You know that, right? No matter your life before, the monastery is a fresh start. You’re in good hands. Even mine are harmless.”

  Saidelia hardly had time to respond. The pair rounded the corner into the bleak dining hall. The lithe, sickly woman guiding the young girl towards the nook with tired-looking cooks. The priest’s conversation with the cooks was short. They relented quickly. Eventually, Saidelia was brought a tray, her newfound conservator gazing down at her with a smile.

“Excellent. Let’s thank these nice folks and get you to your quarters. You live with Sir Dominicus, correct?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

  A lighthearted chuckle escaped the woman who led Saidelia through the halls once again. Their conversations were minimal until the pair stopped at a tall, almost foreboding door.

“Well, Miss Saidelia. I believe this is your stop. Say good evening to Sir Dominicus for me. Remember, anytime you need help, you have but to ask.”

“Um, thank you, ma’am.”

“Please, dear. It’s Sister Gloria. Ta for now.”

  Saidelia was gently ushered into her room. The tall, dark-haired man sat at his desk, sparing Saidelia a passing glance as she entered. He nodded curtly, his attentions drawn to a letter he was in the midst of drafting. His quill whipped deftly across the pages in immaculate penmanship. Every so often, he’d take a swig from a hefty, wooden tankard he had borrowed from the same dining hall. The thin bristles of a forming beard carried the sour-smelling foam as he placed the tankard back down on his desk. He spared her a passing smile.

“Evenin’ kid. You been out all this time? Stupid question, of course you have. I’m glad you got yourself some dinner. Give me a second and I’ll give you a place to eat. Just do me a favor and be careful, yeah? Spent a lot of time on this.”

  With a final flourish of his quill, he left the draft of his letter on the desk, pushing it back to allow Saidelia room to have her meal. She smiled weakly at the man as he stood from his desk. Saidelia placed her tray on the surface, slowly climbing into the seat. She hoisted herself up, causing the desk to lurch. Mere moments after he had warned her, the jostling desk sent the brew on its side, saturating the letter he had been drafting.

  He stared at the letter with irritation, drawing in a deep breath that hissed through his nose. Saidelia noticed the letter instantly, her face contorting into a look of shock and mortification. His hard work vanished in moments. His gaze turned to Saidelia. His eyes softened. The scolding he had planned was immediately discarded. An understanding feeling of pity gripped him as he approached. He stooped slightly, pulling her against the crest of a radiant sun on his chest, a hand in her hair, stroking it gingerly. He shushed her with the credence of a father.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll start a new one after dinner. Just breathe. It’s alright.”

  The comforting hand in her hair reached wordlessly for an old tunic. He dropped it in the puddle, blotting up the worst of the mess, still tending to the girl pressed up against him.

“It’s all better. Everything’s fine. No crying over spilled beer, yeah? Finish your dinner while I clean up.”

(Thanks for the ask, @ulrich-dawnblade!)

[angstytieflingbard]

Platonic THB x Villain’s Child!Reader Finale

Request: “Hey, Taz anon here. Its been a bit! Could I request a finally part to the villian child reader series? On one of the Tres Horny Boys adventures, they meet a person and their son. It turns out its the reader who later in their life became something like a deity of time manipulation(current yn is only studying it now)? And introduces them to their son(who they named Magnus) Just some pure interactions of that? Thank you for your time!”

“please give us more thb x child content!!!!!! ♥️”

Summary: (Y/N)’s only just started studying time magic, but they’ve already hit a roadblock. There’s not exactly a wealth of information on the subject. Their three guardians aren’t exactly sure how to help, nor are they even sure they should be encouraging them, if there’s so little evidence of anyone ever pulling it off. However, their proof comes one day in the form of an oddly familiar stranger...

Warnings: None!

Author’s Note: Y’all really like the child reader content, huh? That’s fine by me, sometimes self care is reading/writing soft platonic stuff, and I’m absolutely willing to provide. On a completely different note, I got into Devil May Cry, and Wow™ am I enjoying that. I could go on forever about how I feel about that game, but I doubt y’all wanna read that when you could be reading more of this good good fluff I’m putting down for you guys. Enjoy, and remember you can always hit up my ask box to talk/request, and the relevant links for that are in my bio!

The past few months had been… frustrating, to say the least. You’d recently decided to study time magic, a feat easier said than done, as you’d found there was almost no material on the subject. All you could find were theoretical essays, some religious texts (mostly from Istus’ worshippers, warning against the practice), and and a few half-finished sets of notes from people who’d attempted the research before eventually giving up just as you had. You’d compiled everything you thought would help you, and still you seemed to be getting nowhere.

Taako had even attempted to help, usually by bringing you new reading materials, though you got the feeling he was more humoring you than anything.

“Hey, Taako!” You called from your desk.

“Yes, darling?” He responded to your call, blinking curiously at you from the kitchen doorway.

“Could you help me real quick? I’m having trouble understanding what this means…” You gestured to your book, and he nodded, moving the pot he was cooking in off the burner for the moment and making his way to your side. Just as he began to read the offending passage, however, his stone of farspeech suddenly glowed a bright green, letting out a single, sustained note for a few seconds before going silent and dark again. He sighed, giving you an apologetic look as he headed for the door.

“I’ll try to help when I get back, okay? Dinner’s already cooking, so you need to keep an eye on it. And don’t burn the apartment down!” He added as the elevator door closed after him. You waved goodbye, sighing as you turned to go into the kitchen once he’d left. You’d get back to your studies with fresh eyes, once the mission was over.

~

Magnus and Merle met Taako at the elevator, each having been going about their own business at the time, and the group were sent down to the surface. Apparently, there were whispers of some powerful magical artifact in Baldur’s Gate, though the regulators hadn’t been able to find out if it was a Grand Relic or not. Either way, they were going to intercept a meeting where the artifact was supposedly being sold, hoping to take the item into custody. Even if it wasn’t an actual Grand Relic, they couldn’t afford to have these types of things end up in the wrong hands.

The main streets of Baldur’s Gate was bustling, homes, businesses, and market stalls alike crammed haphazardly together to create a bright, lively atmosphere nearly overflowing with color and sound. However, as the three got into the side streets, where the deal for this artifact was supposedly taking place, the people and color and overall life seemed to just disappear. The alleys were quiet and nearly empty, seeming almost like a different town entirely.

When they reached the location of the deal, they found it empty, and found a place to wait and watch, without risking blowing their own cover. They sat in silence for a few moments, idly watching the empty alleys and sidestreets around their hiding place.

“So, (Y/N) has been having trouble with their studies lately.” Taako started casually, voice quiet. Magnus and Merle looked at him curiously.

“Yeah? They’re working on time magic, right? Not exactly a lot on it, I’m guessing…” Magnus replied with a slight frown.

“Might be because of Istus. I doubt she wants people running around and changing fate on her.” Merle added. He had a better insight into the minds of the gods, as mercurial as they could be, and he knew gods like Istus didn’t appreciate interference in their divine machinations.

“Maybe. I’m… I’m a little worried they’re gonna hurt themselves, honestly. Either by messing up a spell when they finally do figure it out, or pissing off some god or another.” Magnus confessed. Merle nodded his agreement, and Taako sighed.

“Well, I’m not exactly gonna stop them from studying it. I don’t think I could if I tried, anyways. They’ve set their mind on it. I think it was something about Refuge that set them off, with the resetting and all.” Taako frowned, an odd look on his normally relaxed, almost apathetic expression.

“That almost worries me more. If they’re trying to recreate the kind of effects the chalice had…” Merle trailed off thoughtfully, and they all exchanged a look. Lucretia would be… less than pleased, to say the least, if that’s what you were trying for.

Suddenly, someone appeared out of nowhere in front of them, interrupting their conversation. The person was a human, and a familiar one at that, though they couldn’t place why. In their arms, they held a child, a young boy no older than four or five.

“Hello, boys!” The person greeted them cheerfully, and they all scrambled to their feet, startled. The stranger simply smiled as they sorted themselves out, reaching for weapons, but hesitating at the sight of the child in their arms.

“Who are you?” Magnus started cautiously, already putting himself in front of the other two slightly. The person didn’t seem dangerous, certainly not with the happy looking kid with them, but you never knew these days.

“I- Well, it’s a long story. Um…” They paused, smile slipping into a frown. They didn’t seem to have planned this far ahead in their interactions.

“Start with a name, maybe?” Taako suggested, eyes narrowed somewhat dubiously at them. They winced, but nodded.

“Probably the worst part to start with, but sure. My name’s (Y/N). And before you say ‘Wow, I know someone with that name, wild,” I should say yeah, I know you do.” They spoke quickly, seeing the mix of expressions which flitted rapidly across the boys’ faces.

The three stared at them for a moment longer, surprise and confusion slipping into denial, then recognition, then acceptance as they noticed how similar the strangers’ features were to the child they knew.

“(Y/N)? How are you.... What?” Merle asked incredulously. You smiled sheepishly.

“Well, to make a long story short, I figured out time magic! I’m not gonna get into how that happened for a couple reasons, partially because Istus would actually try to kill me if I meddled in your fates more than I already am just by making this visit, so…” You shrugged somewhat apologetically, carefully resituating the boy in your arms to a more comfortable position. There was a moment of silence as the three processed the information.

“So… What are you doing here, exactly? Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t exactly an unpleasant surprise, but… It’s sure a surprise, at least.” Taako was the one to break the silence again, curiosity overtaking any lingering confusion regarding the circumstances.

“Well,” You said thoughtfully, as though considering what you could tell them, “I wanted my boy here to meet you guys. Where I am, or when I am, I guess, you’re not… around anymore. It’s been a long time. And I thought, hey, what better time than when you guys were in your prime! Before the day of- Oh. Spoilers.” You stopped yourself. The boy in your arms shifted restlessly when you talked about him, and you set him down, chuckling as he hid behind your legs.

You were different, much different than the kid they knew. But somehow they still knew, like a parent always knows their child, that you were still the same dorky, bookish kid they’d taken in so many months ago, even if it was masked by your somewhat strange, almost absentminded demeanor now. For some reason it almost felt like they were only one of several things you were paying attention to, like you were twisting the strings of time around your fingers even as you spoke to them, always watching how every word and choice could affect the timeline.

“You have a kid?” Magnus finally decided to settle on that revelation, clinging to something he could understand between the talk of time magic and fate and spoilers.

“Yeah.” You replied softly, something almost like sadness taking over your features. You twisted slightly in place, reaching back to gently guide the little boy out from behind you. He was shy, though that was clear just from how quiet he’d been for the interaction, but there was a glint of fierce intelligence in his eyes that showed them clear as day how much he took after you.

“Do you wanna say hi? These are my parents. The people I told you about?” You reminded the boy gently, and he nodded, finally stepping closer to the three. Magnus crouched down to the boys height, and Taako leaned down a bit over his shoulder, Merle just shuffling a bit closer without making an attempt to make himself shorter.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s your name?” Taako asked softly, Magnus too busy being absolutely enamoured with the kid, partially for the realization that he had a grandson, of all things. The boy hesitated a moment, looking back at you. You smiled and nodded, reassuringly, and he took a deep breath, facing the three again.

“My… my name’s Magnus.” The boys froze, glancing between you and the boy a few times in shock, a somewhat uncomfortable silence settling over the empty alley for a moment.

Magnus felt like he’d just been shot. After Julia, and the attack on Raven’s Roost, he’d always assumed that would be it for him in terms of family. Just being your guardian at all, getting to experience having a family, even if it wasn’t in the way he’d always imagined, was a gift to him. But now, knowing his ward, his kid, had named their own child after him, it was almost too much. He swallowed, feeling bittersweet tears come to his eyes.

Your son looked mildly unsettled by the silence that settled for a moment, and you stepped forward, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It seemed to knock the three out of their shock, and chaos erupted, each of them starting to talk over each other in excited tones. You waited for them to calm down with a smile on your face, your son more at ease now that they were acting how you’d always described them in your stories, like chaotic, dorky forces of nature.

“Well…” You started once they finally stopped rambling. “We can’t really stay much longer, unfortunately. Even this short visit has already changed things, I can’t risk changing anything else.” You explained sadly. The boys frowned, but nodded understandingly.

“Even just this has been… amazing.” Magnus said, quietly. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” You felt tears build in your eyes, and took a deep breath, leaving your sons’ side for a moment to step forward and pull all three of your childhood guardians into a hug. They hugged you back just as tightly, and you blindly reached out an arm, pulling Magnus Jr. into the hug as well. You all stayed like that for a long moment, until you finally willed yourself to pull away. You smiled sadly at them.

“It’s time to go. I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.” You said softly, voice hoarse with unshed tears. You looked like a young adult still, but from the way you talked it seemed like you were much older, all of them having been gone for some time.

“It’s cool, kid. We’ve got a mission to do, anyway.” Taako told you airily, attempting to hide his own teary eyes.

“Ha. About that, uh… I may have made up the artifact. Just a couple well placed rumors and a little hop forward in time to today.” You winced, giving them a sheepish grin as you picked up Magnus Jr. again and held him on your hip. The three paused in surprise, and then started laughing.

“Well, I’d say this was better, anyway.” Magnus chuckled.

“Yeah, now get out of here before I actually start crying. I did not put on makeup this morning just to ruin it like this.” Taako huffed playfully, and Merle simply smiled kindly and patted you on the arm, not saying anything.

You nodded, taking a short step back from them. With one last smile, you brought up the hand not occupied with holding your son, and snapped your fingers. White, gold, and green swirled around you like wind, catching your hair and clothes, and the three watched as the two of you seemed to dissolve into the air, the bright colors of your magic dissipating shortly after. There was a moment spent simply staring at the place where you once stood, before Taako sighed and took the first steps in the direction of the main street again, the other two following shortly after him.

~~

When the Taako, Magnus, and Merle got home, it was late, nearly time for you to go to bed. As they found, you’d spent most of the time still attempting to study that tome you’d gotten your hands on, and Magnus had to herd you off to bed (it had only taken a few short months after they moved into their little apartment for you to end up taking up permanent residence with them, though your dorm was still officially with Angus up in the main part of the base) with bleary eyes and shambling steps, even as you protested.

“C’mon kid, you gotta sleep if you wanna study good.” He told you, and you groaned, though you still let him gently push you by the shoulders into your little room and over to the bed. He tucked you in, and you managed a tired laugh at how he treated you like a little kid.

“Hey Magnus?” You asked him just as he started to head to the door. He stopped in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah, (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing? Studying time magic… No one else has ever managed it. I don’t know if I’ll ever figure it out, much less get good at it.” You admitted. Magnus paused, thinking over how he’d met your older self, the child you’d named after him, and wracked his brain for the right words to tell you. Eventually, he settled on something he remembered someone saying to him, not all too long ago.

“Kid… You’re going to be amazing.” And with that, he shut off your light, and left you to sleep.

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

My favourite Charmed episodes - season 3

This is the third part to my Favourite Charmed Episodes meta series all posts in the series will be tagged as #favecharmedeps.

Ah, season 3. I’ve always loved this season and regarded it as being one of my favourites because it feels like this is where the show really hits the ground running and is the first season whereby I consider nearly every episode to be good (with the exception of Wrestling with Demons but even that episode isn’t all bad even if we just count seeing Prue and Phoebe being bad asses and fighting in the ring). Once again all three sister’s have great arc’s this season - Prue learns to balance work and play; Piper struggles in her relationship with Leo and finally marries him; Phoebe graduates college and enters into a very dramatic and intense relationship with Cole. We also see a lot of sister bonding this season, particularly between Prue and Phoebe at the start of the season, who are left alone for a month whilst Piper is with Leo. Power Outage, is also a great episode for sister bonding, which I’ll discuss more later. I’ve chosen 7 episodes from this season as my favourites which I’ll be discussing in this post and they are - All Halliwell’s Eve, Power Outage, Coyote Piper, The Good, the Bad and the Cursed, Just Harried, Sin Francisco and Look Who’s Barking. 

All Halliwell’s Eve (3x04)

This one should come as no surprise to anybody. I don’t think there’s a single Charmed fan that wouldn’t rate this episode in their top 10 episodes across the series. It’s partly because this episode is fun - it has two things that Charmed fans are a sucker for costumes and time travel, it has Leo and Darryl working together and a Halloween theme (who doesn’t love a good Halloween episode?). But more than that, this episode is one of my favourites because it taps into the core of the sisters heritage and traditions as witches. There’s something so enjoyable and interesting about seeing the sisters fully explore their magic and understand the history of their ancestors, how they lived and where their power originated from. They briefly experienced this kind of interaction with Melinda in The Witch is Back (1x09), but it was nice to have that expanded on and for the sisters to have the opportunity to meet their ancestors even beyond Melinda. 

Since the sisters didn’t have their powers for a majority of this episode it was great to see them do good without the safety net of their powers and to find alternate methods to channel their magic. For me, that (amongst other things) is what really sets the early seasons apart from the later seasons - the sisters were constantly trying to find new methods, strategies and techniques in how they fought evil and saved innocents beyond simply using their active powers. 

I’m also a sucker for the Halloween theme and the way it tapped into what has become a commercialised holiday, stripped it back and explored what it meant to covens of witches in the seventeenth century. 

I also loved how there were implications that the sisters shaped their own futures in this episode. They saved Melinda from evil, meaning their family line was able to develop over the generations because of the sisters - they saved their family and their future. It’s also ironic that at the start of the episode Phoebe condemns the portrayal of witches in popular culture, but ends up being the one that creates that image by wearing the pointy hat, flying a broom and cackling. It’s a nice slice of irony. 

Overall, this episode is just very pleasing to watch visually and thematically, and it still disappoints me that this is the only proper Halloween episode we got across the series since Halloween is probably the main holiday of significance for witches in regards to the traditions and history of covens. 

Power Outage (3x07)

I love this episode and think it’s very underrated. It’s a fantastic episode for the sisters’ relationships with each other, Phoebe and Cole’s relationship and generally has great drama and storytelling. 

Charmed was built on the premise that it’s about sisters that are witches, not witches that are sisters and this episode really enforces that philosophy. The sisters bicker and argue over trivial things that siblings typically argue about, and it serves as a reminder that regardless of how much the sisters love each other or how close they are, underneath it all they’re still just human sisters. The fact that the biggest vulnerability they have that Cole can exploit is their unresolved frustration and anger towards one another is very authentic and it’s scarier, because Cole doesn’t directly target the sisters and attempt to kill them, he uses Andras to amplify tensions and emotions that already exist between the sisters. After their huge argument, when the sisters try to patch up their differences and regain their powers, it’s a pivotal scene in allowing them to address the flaws in their dynamics - as the eldest sister Prue can be too overbearing and judgemental, as the middle sister Piper can be taken for-granted and overlooked and as the youngest Phoebe is regarded irresponsible and reckless by Prue and Piper. These are fundamental traits that we know exist within the trio throughout seasons 1 and 2, but the issues they cause are never fully addressed between all three of them until this point. Ironically, Cole’s attempt to sever the bond between the sisters only serves to bring them closer together. 

Speaking of Cole, this is a very interesting episode for him. This is the episode where we truly see his struggle with his mission to kill the sisters and his inner turmoil over his growing feelings for Phoebe. I’ve spoken about this before, but I think this episode is when Cole starts to realise that he’s really falling for Phoebe and it terrifies him. After her argument with Prue and Piper, Phoebe goes to his apartment and is crying and very vulnerable. He has her right where he wants her, he even has a knife in his hand ready to kill her but he can’t bring himself to do it. The fact that the episode ends with Cole killing the Triad proves that he’s no longer committed to his mission or able to go through with it. 

What makes this episode so brilliant is that it provides insight into the emotions of the sisters and Cole, and gives a tremendous pay-off with the sisters overcoming their differences and banding together, and Cole killing the Triad in a fit of rage because of the way he was feeling. 

Coyote Piper (3x09)

This is probably one of my all time favourite Charmed episodes and has been since I was a kid. And it’s not just because we get to see Piper dancing on the bar on leather pants, although that does go down in history as being one of the more memorable scenes of the series haha. It’s because it’s such a great Piper-centric episode and it also gives a lot of focus to my favourite sister relationship - Prue and Piper. 

Although we already know Piper as having a more reserved personality than her sisters, this episode is the first time we get insight into why that is. Piper’s unpopularity at school and inferiority complex explains a lot of her behaviours as an adult, particularly in season 1 where she is a lot more malleable and somewhat of a people pleaser. I know that I’m not the only one that relates to this on every single level. I was 100% the Piper at school, I was shy, awkward, self-conscious and although I had my own mind, I cared too much about the approval of others. Because of the pressure of her high school reunion and the fear of how her peers from school will judge her Piper reverts back to her high school self, desperately finding an outfit that will give off the best impression, worrying about what people will say about her life choices and even allowing Missy to order her around. 

In comparison to Piper, Prue is her opposite. We already know Prue is confident, but Prue in this episode stands out once again as being incredibly self-assured. It’s no surprise that she’s revealed to have been extremely popular at high school and the head of the cheer-leading squad. 

The fact that Prue and Piper are opposites in this manner highlights their sisterly dynamic better than any other episode, in my opinion, and explains why Piper reacts the way she does in season 4 after Prue’s death. Piper’s meekness is off-set by Prue’s confidence and outspokenness, and Prue really has to coach Piper through the reunion and push her to stand up for herself. Prue is Piper’s strength and Piper relies on her hugely in this episode for support and guidance, and their interactions in this episode are a direct reflection of how I imagine their relationship to have been at school. When Prue realises that Piper is possessed, we see her make a very emotional admission to Piper about how she feels she’s failed her and should’ve seen the signs that she was possessed sooner. This hearkens back to the theme that’s central to the episode of Prue, as Piper’s big sister, being responsible for keeping her safe. The fact that Prue knew what had to be done and she was brave enough to stab Piper is demonstrative of that big sister quality that Prue has. No matter how hard it gets, she is able to make the toughest and most impossible decisions in order to save Piper. As I mentioned above, this episode serves as a perfect basis for Piper’s grief in season 4 and explains why it is so different from Phoebe’s. Both sisters have a close and loving relationship with Prue, but Piper needs her. Prue is not just her sister, but her best friend, her guardian angel and her strength, and that is a role that Prue played in Piper’s life since she could remember, which is why she found it impossibly hard to adjust to life without her. 

Aside from this episode being important for Prue and Piper’s relationship, it is equally important for Piper’s character development. Piper begins the episode trying to change and be someone different for the benefit of others, and when she’s possessed her agency is taken away and she’s forced to become someone she’s not. That experience is enough to remind Piper that she is who she is and she should remain true to herself no matter what. 

It’s also worth noting that Phoebe’s distance from her sisters in this episode is very noticeable and is great story-telling, since she’s dealing with the aftermath of faking Cole’s death. It’s realistic that Phoebe would find it difficult to look Prue and Piper in the face knowing she’s lying to them and although Phoebe didn’t have a huge role in this episode, her behaviour was very fitting for a person who was suffering through the emotional ordeal that she was. 

The Good the Bad and the Cursed (3x14)

It’s strange that when I was a child I never liked this episode, but by god, I bloody love it now. I enjoy everything about this episode - Victor as a guest star, Alyssa’s acting (it’s off the charts in this episode), Prue and Cole (the twosome I never knew I needed), the time travel, of course, and generally I love this episode thematically. In fact, I love this episode so much that I feel like my thoughts are going to come out in a huge stream of consciousness about everything I love rather than an actual analysis, so forgive me. 

I like this episode from the opening scenes, because we get to see Victor and Phoebe together. It’s a rare moment when we get to see Victor with the girls, and it’s always great to see him actually building relationships with them. Victor left the girls because he was opposed to them being witches, so it was necessary for him to gain insight into what that means. Some of his concerns are validated as he witnesses the pain Phoebe has to endure, but likewise he sees the good that magic can do and how it saves Phoebe. His prejudices about Whitelighters are challenged when he finds out Leo is a Whitelighter (in one of the most hilarious scenes to date) and likewise, he has to face up to the reality of Phoebe being in love with a demon. Overall, this is a very pivotal episode for Victor whose knowledge and understanding of the girls’ lives as witches is brief and his opinions on magic are rather prejudiced and uninformed. It also reinforces his relationships with his daughters - his anger and fear at the possibility of losing Phoebe, his protectiveness of Piper and his desire to get to know Leo as her husband-to-be and the ease with which he interacts with Prue who welcomes him with a warm smile and hug, which is particularly significant given her attitude towards him at the start of the series. 

Bringing Prue and Cole together in this episode is freakin’ genius. Their dynamic is so interesting because it’s characterised by distrust and disdain, but they actually make a great team. They put their feelings towards each other aside and unite because of their shared love for Phoebe. There’s something so compelling about watching the two of them together (I’m not gonna lie, I kinda dig Prue/Cole as a romantic pairing because of this episode, but that’s a separate subject) and the combination of their personalities creates a fascinating dynamic. They’re both impulsive and act on emotion in the moment, and they disagree on almost everything yet they weirdly balance each other out and keep each other in check. There are moments when they have to hold the other back and talk each other down such as when Cole immediately suggests killing Sutter and Prue reminds him that shouldn’t be his first instinct if he’s trying to be good or when Cole reminds an overzealous Prue to be more cautious so as not to draw attention and arouse suspicion. Prue sees Cole for exactly who he is (perhaps even more so than Phoebe who is inclined to see Cole’s goodness and overlook his darkness) and in this episode she uses that darkness in Cole to help them through their mission whilst simultaneously detesting it and scalding him for it. Prue’s reversion of Cole lies in the fact that she does see good in him, but she doesn’t want to admit it because she doesn’t want to let that cloud her judgement and make her forget there is also darkness in him, in the same way that it often clouds Phoebe’s judgement. This episode shows that conflict of good and evil that exists within Cole perfectly, but also demonstrates that despite him still having demon instincts, he’s actually very capable of working together with the sisters and could be a very valuable asset to them (which he does become in season 4). 

Over the course of the series we meet a lot of innocents, but I actually really connected to Bo in this episode and the story of the townspeople. Part of the connection I feel to Bo is likely because he is directly connected to Phoebe, but it’s also the fact that Bo is an innocent victim that has to suffer horrendous torture and a violent death over and over for his people. He’s the literal embodiment of a savior - he dies for the sins and cowardice of his people. I think the reason this story speaks to me so much is because it’s so human and tells an important moral lesson about the importance of banding together and standing up for what’s right. Too many of us stand by and watch something we know is wrong unfold or remain silent when we see someone is being mistreated or suffering an injustice, but this town were cursed for having that kind of cowardice. Seeing the townspeople finally stand up to Sutter and save Bo is such an incredibly powerful moment and it’s very underrated. 

I also can’t talk about this episode without mentioning Alyssa’s acting which is truly incredible in this episode. The scene where Bo is being whipped repeatedly and Phoebe is screaming in pain is so difficult to watch. You really feel the pain of both Bo and Phoebe in that scene and although deep down we know that Prue and Cole won’t fail, for a moment it genuinely feels like they’re going to die. And what makes it even more heartbreaking is that every other time the loop has taken place Bo has felt that pain and it ended with him being shot dead in front of his sister and the entire town, which is heartbreaking. 

I feel like I could talk about this episode all day, it’s very understated and although on the service the Western theme of the episode might deter some people from ranking it in one of the best episodes, it’s a slice of gold which I feel is very overlooked. 

Just Harried (3x15)

This episode is another that I could talk about all day because I love every single scene in this episode - I love the sweet scenes between Piper and Leo as they prepare for the wedding, the appearances of the family Patty, Penny and Victor, Victor and Leo having a heart to heart, Piper opening up to Patty and Victor about her fears of marriage, Prue’s astral self going wild, Piper and Leo getting married in one of the most understated but beautiful and romantic fictional weddings on TV - I just bloody love all of it. 

The family dynamics in this episode are so lovely. The scene with Patty and the sisters alone is one of the most heart warming episodes in the series, so understated and it speaks to anyone who has a loved one they’ve lost whom they would give anything to see again. As I mentioned already, the scenes between Leo and Victor where Leo finally stands up to Victor and tells him he loves Piper and is marrying her whether he likes it or not is such a “HELL YEAH” moment and is the first time Leo truly gets Victor’s respect because he sees how much gumption Leo has. When the wedding is abruptly ended by Prue’s astral self, the entire family (including Cole and Darryl) come together to ensure that the wedding goes ahead because they all believe so strongly in Piper and Leo’s love (the speech Leo gives and Phoebe saying their love has touched them all, is still so sweet and I love it). Seeing Piper’s heart to heart with Victor and Patty about how the failure of their relationship has tarnished her perception of relationships and made her cynical of marriage was a very important scene. Of all the sisters, the impact of Patty and Victor’s split, Patty’s death and Victor’s abandonment is least explored in regards to how it affected Piper. We’re constantly reminded of Prue’s abandonment issues with Victor (particularly in season 1) and her unresolved trauma over Patty’s death which manifests itself in an inability to hold down a relationship. We hear from Phoebe multiple times how she felt the absence of her mother’s comfort and this resulted in her being much more emotional and sensitive than her sisters, which explains why she reacts to Victor in the extreme opposite way to Prue, welcoming him with open arms and love. It also explains why generally love, passion and romance was central to Phoebe’s character throughout the series - it’s almost like she made up for the absence of her parents love in her childhood by giving out twice the love in her adult years and constantly seeking it out in others. But back to the point, that scene Piper shared with her parents was vital for her character and I’m so glad it was them that went to her and convinced her to return to the manor and go through with the wedding. It was also refreshing to see Phoebe take on the middle sister role in this episode, trying to mediate between Prue’s exhaustion because of the antics of her astral self and Piper’s stress about the wedding. She takes the responsibility on her shoulders to make sure Prue is okay whilst simultaneously trying to ensure the wedding plans go smoothly and Piper gets the wedding she so desperately wants.

Prue’s arc in this episode is brilliant and links back to ‘Which Prue is it Anyway?’ in season 1 which explores the duality of Prue’s character. Season 3 generally focuses more on Prue’s struggle between the two aspects of her life and personality - work and play - and this episode reflects that perfectly. It’s always fun to see Prue let go and have some fun, but also astral Prue speaks to most of us on a personal level, right? We all have that feeling sometimes where we’re sick to death of following the status quo, of always abiding by the rules and doing what we’re supposed to do, and every now and again we get this overriding urge to just throw caution to the wind and go crazy. Prue feels that on a grander scale because of the sense of responsibility she carries. Patty speaks of how unfair her death is on Prue because it thrust so much responsibility on her shoulders at a young age, and although technically Prue doesn’t shoulder that responsibility anymore because Piper and Phoebe are adults who make their own choices and live their own lives, that responsibility of being the big sister never goes away, and I’m speaking from experience here. Prue’s arc in this episode speaks to a fundamental contradiction in her character - she resents the responsibility she has to shoulder but she also craves it and needs it. Being the big sister is her purpose in life, and I think the true crisis for her in this episode, which she confirms herself in so many words, is that she no longer feels like Piper and Phoebe need her. Piper is getting married and Phoebe is in her first serious relationship, and she’s starting to see that generally her sisters are relying on her less and less and leading their own lives. In contrast, she compares her own life to theirs and in a romantic sense realises that it doesn’t live up. She hasn’t had a significant connection or relationship since Andy and although she’s very independent, Prue is only human and wants love as much as any of us do. It’s no coincidence that astral Prue strikes up a relationship with TJ; she’s seeking romantic connection. She even says it herself, “I want to find love, I want to have a life” (x). And of course, Phoebe’s college degree in psychology perfectly aligns with this and allows Phoebe to analyse and understand astral Prue and she figures out that she is Prue’s id (her base desires). It’s Phoebe’s reassurance that she and Piper are fine and that they have found love and purpose because of her that releases astral Prue, because astral Prue is born immediately from the lingering responsibility Prue feels that she wants to shed. But then, as I mentioned, she wants to be rid of the responsibility but also knows she will then have a crisis of sorts as she tries to find herself outside of that primary role as big sister. In the past I’ve seen people criticise the focus on Prue in this episode since it should’ve been all about Piper and Leo, but the thing is, it’s very fitting and realistic. A lot of single adults go through a mini crisis of sorts when a close friend or relative gets married, because it makes us feel inadequate. It’s a reminder that we’re alone, that we haven’t found love and that we’re getting left behind. Piper and Leo’s wedding was the trigger for Prue feeling this way and for astral Prue’s appearance. It made perfect sense and was done in a way whereby Piper and Leo still got lots of focus. 

Piper and Leo are written as a big epic love, but they’re also understated and that’s what I love about this episode. They prove how much they love each other and that they’re still willing to fight and overcome any obstacles thrown their way in order to be together. The fact that the wedding didn’t go to plan but that they came back together and get married worked so much for them, and made it feel that much more meaningful. Piper and Leo had already fought just to get to the point of being able to get married in the first place, it would’ve been too easy if their wedding day had been plain sailing. And the way the wedding ceremony actually happened at the end, with the orbs and the improv wedding vows (which were so beautiful) felt so right. It was an intimate and romantic ceremony that had all of the important people there (minus Paige) and I’ll always love it. 

Overall, this episode has so many important themes and captures the variety of family dynamics and personalities of the characters in a very concise way. Each episode is only 40 minutes and it’s very challenging to incorporate the perfect balance between all of the characters (particularly in this instance, since there were additional characters like Patty, Victor and Penny), but this episode manages to do it perfectly. 

Sin Francisco (3x18)

This is an episode that’s grown on me over the years because it’s just so entertaining. It incorporates humour with serious themes regarding humanity. The idea of the sisters and Leo being infected with sin is so great, because it shows that regardless of how good they may be they’re still flawed and have predispositions to sin. It is interesting and entertaining to see the sisters and Leo grapple with the sins they’re infected with and Leo being infected with Sloth is particularly hilarious.

In comparison to the other episodes, I don’t have much more to say, I just really like this episode because I think it’s very entertaining and funny. Although, I am still slightly confused about why Piper was infected with Gluttony and Leo with Sloth, since neither of them usually have a predisposition to either of those sins. I understand why Phoebe was infected with lust because her character is very invested in love and romance and we see her date a lot across the seasons, it also makes sense that Prue is infected with Pride since she’s very prideful, but Piper and Leo’s sins didn’t align with their characters quite so well. But I really chalk that down to the fact that the other remaining sins - greed, wrath and envy - fitted with their characters even less. 

Look Who’s Barking (3x21)

Part of me always disliked the fact that for one of the last episodes we ever had with Prue she was a flippin’ dog for the majority of it. However, I can’t help but appreciate this episode in regards to how it handles Phoebe’s pain over Cole, using her transformation into a Banshee as a metaphor and reflection of that. It reminds me a lot of episodes like Hell Hath No Fury and A Witch’s Tail where demonic transformations are also used to express the sisters’ pain. 

I appreciate the portrayal of Phoebe’s heartbreak in this episode because it’s very authentically done. At the beginning of the episode we see Phoebe writing about Cole in the BOS as a warning to future witches. This reflects the current obsession she has with him - her love for him paired with his betrayal has essentially turned that love into a fixation because she can’t move past it or let go of what happened. She justifies that by claiming that she’s merely being logical and helpful to future witches who may come up against Cole, but in reality it’s all part of her way of trying to handle what’s happened. Later on in the episode when she has a premonition of an innocent being killed she immediately jumps to the conclusion that Cole is the one responsible and wants to vanquish him without even stopping to think it through. Even Prue, who is far from being Cole’s biggest fan, tells Phoebe that she might be wrong. But Phoebe is blindsided and at this point is trying to zone in on hating Cole as a way to suppress her love for him and the pain he’s caused her. The first time Phoebe comes face to face with the Banshee Piper comments on the fact that the Banshee zeroed in on Phoebe despite the fact that Piper was the one with the explosive power and says that it’s because she must be in pain. Immediately afterwards, Phoebe is looking in the BOS at the Cole page she’s written and that’s when the Banshee arrives and we all know what happens next. The scene where Phoebe and Cole fight in the mausoleum is one of the most raw scenes between the couple and perfectly encapsulates the heart of their relationship - how they’re fundamentally enemies that cannot and should not be together, but they’re completely in love and that love overcomes the obstacles between them. It’s also a reminder that Phoebe’s not the only one in pain, so is Cole. Just as Phoebe sets herself on a mission to hate Cole and destroy him, Cole attempts to do everything he can to suppress his human half along with his feelings for Phoebe. 

This episode is also very valuable in showing Piper’s ability to take charge in the absence of Prue and Phoebe, which I like to think is deliberate from the writers in the lead up to Prue’s death. Prue turns into a dog, Phoebe turns into a Banshee and Piper is left alone to figure it out. It’s rare that Piper is left alone to make decisions and save her sisters up until this point and foreshadows the fact that she’s about to become the oldest sister and have that responsibility a lot more often.

And that’s a wrap for my favourite season 3 episodes. I’m sure some will be surprised that All Hell Breaks Loose isn’t included on this list, but honestly, I hate watching that episode. It’s so traumatic to watch for me and ever since I was a kid I’ve struggled to watch it. I appreciate the acting in the episode, which is phenomenal, and I also appreciate the shock value, but putting emotions aside, I don’t think it’s that great of an episode. It has a lot of inconsistencies and the sisters are OOC for a majority of the episode. I believe that the episode is highly regarded by a lot of fans because it’s become memorialised as Prue’s last episode and because it has some of the most dramatic scenes of the series. But if it had followed the usual format of previous episodes where the sisters have died like Be Careful What You Witch For and Prue had survived, I don’t think it would be remembered in the same way. In fact, I think, putting the dramatic scenes of Piper’s death aside, the episode would be forgotten by most and lost amongst the other episodes that actually are good. 

Thank you for reading, I’d love to hear your thoughts on your favourite episodes of season 3. The next post will be my favourite season 4 episodes, and since season 4 is at the top of my ranking as my favourite season, expect a lot of episodes and analysis! 

[tessatechaitea]

Team Titans #20

Is it sexist to point out cameltoe?

It's been about two weeks since I read a Team Titans comic book so I can't remember what was happening, which is probably a good thing. It's nice to see that my brain apparently has some kind of organic Roomba that cleans up after I've soiled my mind with terrible media choices. Revamping my old Patreon page has kept me away from re-reading terrible old comic books. If you enjoy my take on comic books perhaps you'll enjoy my take on The Bible? Or if you don't like reading astoundingly insightful and probably pretty funny commentary on The Bible if it costs you as little as one dollar per month, you can still bookmark the site because you'll get three free song reviews each week too! But if you want me to review a particular song, you'll have to give me money. I don't give my wisdom away for free! I mean, I do! But only in certain circumstances. I think what was happening in this comic book was a right-wing corporate and media conglomerate asshole (much like Rupert Murdoch) was preparing to time travel into the future where he could take the place of Lord Chaos and rule the world. It's the kind of plan only an idiotic super villain in a comic book could come up with. Any real life super villain would think, "I have so much money and power right now in a world I recognize, why should I risk everything by traveling into an unknown future where my biggest enemies await? Better to just buy a private island in the present and look at porn all day." But for some reason, comic book super villains are never satisfied. They never think, "I could retire with the amount of money it's going to cost me to create this death satellite!" The always think, "Man, having lots of money really kills your ambition. Maybe I should use it to endanger my freedom and possibly my life?" Idiots!

Based on these silhouettes, one of Lord Murdoch's henchman is just a gigantic sentient penis.

The Team Titans leader for the future narrates the big battle so maybe we'll soon find out who the mysterious leader really is! I think I've been guessing Terry Long throughout most of this re-read because who else could it be? Unless Terry's kid has one of those comic book experiences that ages him quickly, he probably won't be leading the team as a nine year old. Although I can't think why I'm ruling that out when I easily accepted Nightwing once driving a motorcycle straight up a skyscraper and Starfire falling in love with Wolfman-written Nightwing. A few pages into the battle, a bunch of Team Titans members (not from the titular and most important team!) begin to die. First killed is Gunsmoke. You might not remember Gunsmoke because Gunsmoke was a terrible name and Gunsmoke never did anything except help provide some context on the plot. We learned from Gunsmoke that the Team Titans were spread out all across history because the Team Titans leader created a truly inept time machine. Gunsmoke's last words (aside from "Arrrggghhhhh!") are "Great. Don't tell me y'all saved my butt in the Old West just so I can get it kicked in 1994." I guess in 1994, creating a character that's simply a guy dressed like a cowboy didn't cut the editor's mustard. The second character to die is Monsieur Poniard of Judge and Jury. He should thank his terrible name for cutting his comic book career short. "Mister Dagger," even in French, just isn't going to inspire the kind of terror that a super villain should inspire. And, yes, I'm aware of how many terribly mundane and crappy names exist within the DC Universe! I'm just saying, "One less is a good start." The third Team Titan to die is a nameless Titan in the background of Monsieur Poniard's death. She (or he) has orange hair and wears a purple costume so I think we can all agree why he (or she) had to die. You know, because Starfire already had claims on that terrible color combination. After Lazarium (Lord Murdoch's super villain name) takes down the main Team Titans in one blast, he jokes, "I love the smell of ozone in the morning." I know that's supposed to be a joke because he says, "Heh heh," immediately after. Earlier, Blue (unless it was Green or Purple or Yellow. Remember, the colorist of this current story arc is an idiot) quipped, "Yeah, and monkeys might fly outta my -- OOOOF!" So we have all the evidence we need that Jeff Jensen's main writing crutch is movie and television quotes. The fourth Team Titans to die is Two Gallon Hat.

I often come up with characters for my stories that I know are stupid but I insert them into it anyway simply so that other characters can call them stupid.

While all of the other Titans from throughout history are being slaughtered by Lazarium's henchmen (where did he get henchmen who put such effort into henchmanning?! I bet he pays a living wage, offers great health care choices, and provides a hefty pension), Mirage remains stuck in traffic on the streets below.

If only Mirage could easily do something to keep from being recognized!

I don't know what she did with Deathwing but I hope it involved a hedge clipper and a blender. Mirage steps out of the cab to find Cokie Walters staring at the corpse of Two Gallon Hat. Cokie apologizes for some reason which leads to Mirage threatening Cokie if she doesn't help Mirage save the Titans. Now how the hell is a bubble gum gossip reporter supposed to help with that?! "Mister Lazarium! Mister Lazarium! Is it true you pee through the gate instead of over the fence?!" Realizing that the Titans have met their match, Terra resorts to pleading her case: "Lazarium! No! Please — you can't just kill us like this!" Lazarium, who is a super villain who has really thought out his plan and understands the power of a truly great one-liner, replies smartly: "Oh, yes, I can, Terra — especially you!" I just got goosebumps reading that! Although after the Wayne's World and Apocalypse Now lines from earlier, maybe Jensen stole this retort from a movie too. Wasn't this the great line from the end of Die Hard 2: Dying Ain't My Thing when Bruce Willis sets the airplane fuel alight? Five hundred and thirty Titans got there asses handed to them by Lazarium and his goons. But not to worry because Prester Jon, Redwing, Battalion, Donna Troy, and just-out-of-a-coma Nightrider have arrived to save the day! And don't think they're going to do it silently! Battalion has a new battle cry that I can't believe didn't catch on with the youth of 1994.

How was this not one of the best selling DC posters of 1994?

Battalion goes down in one shot. Most of the characters will probably go down in one shot because Killowat will probably need to prove himself. Will saving the world from Lazarium be enough to make Mirage forget he's a racist jerk? Hopefully not! The first person to nearly put Lazarium down is called Liquid Joe. Being that he's called Liquid Joe, you know he's not going to wind up being the hero. His blast of slime doesn't even faze Lazarium. Time for Cokie and Mirage to save Killowat so Killowat can save the day! Cokie knows where Killowat has been restrained because she's a tabloid journalist. This was the era where we all believed Geraldo was going to discover the secret of the universe. Now we know Geraldo's only goal was to uplift Geraldo. That fucker will say anything for praise and a paycheck. I suppose you can say that about anybody who appears on Fox News though. After losing dozens of Titans, I have to admit that my plan would be to give Lazarium the time travel device so we could be rid of him. If he time travels into the future, he's not our problem anymore! Heck, he probably won't ever be our problem! The future no longer contains Lord Chaos so who knows what he's going to find in 2001. If in 1994 I were told that 2001 would be the beginning of some truly inspiring xenophobic bullshit masquerading as patriotism, I would have been all, "Yeah, I can buy that." Maybe that wasn't a good example. Killowat defeats all of Lazarium's henchmen with one push of a button. Then he goes after Lazarium. Lazarium believes he'll win for the same reason all bad guys (and Deathstork (who is a bad guy but sometimes people begin to think maybe he's a good guy who was never actually convicted of statutory rape so is it really rape? (Yes. The answer is yes. I'm answering on behalf of a large percentage of male Americans who would get the answer to this question wrong))) believe they'll win.

Technically it's not rape if you say, "Here! Take it!" I'm just judging by American legal standards which have an even lower bar than that to declare something isn't rape.

Killowat gives Lazarium a bunch of his power which causes Lazarium to overload and explode into a smoking scorch mark on the roof. But we can't believe Killowat has just killed somebody (even though his name depends on the idea that he kills) so he makes sure to think, "The overload couldn't have killed him. His corporeal form must be around here somewhere." Well, wherever Lazarium went, it's clear that this story is winding down, so he's technically defeated. But he would have been back if this comic book hadn't been cancelled in a few more issues! Oh wait! He's back a few pages later so Nightrider can feast on his blood. Now nobody has to worry about Lazarium anymore and nobody cares if Dagon murdered him because what's a vampire supposed to do? Not eat people?! Anyway, the time machine simply opens a black hole in the sky which consumes hundreds of the poorly named Team Titans. Preser Jon shuts it down and now the Titans have to deal with being part of 1994 forever. I mean, at least until the end of the year when they'll have to deal with being a part of 1995 forever. Or for a year, anyway. The final page of this issue reveals the leader and it's definitely not the leader anybody working on this comic book had planned it to be. Instead, it's Monarch because — guess what, motherfuckers?! — it's Zero Hour time! Team Titans #20 Rating: A-. I'm only giving it a high grade because this issue was the start of Zero Hour. Not that Zero Hour isn't a completely flawed premise that was just another gimmick to allow DC's editors to fix shit that the fangenders kept haranguing them on. But it is interesting that this terrible little Titans off-shoot comic book is where DC decided to begin the entire Zero Hour premise. My other favorite part of this is how we find out that Monarch is the Leader. My supposition is that Zero Hour was thought up long after The Leader was already a mysterious presence in this book. I'm sure the writers and editors of this book had an idea about who The Leader should be. Maybe it was Dick Grayson, or Terry Long, or Starfire, or a reintegrated Danny Chase. But it certainly wasn't Monarch which meant they changed the goal line as the story proceeded. Which is a microcosm of what happens during the Zero Hour event! It was obvious throughout much of Zero Hour that Captain Atom was going to wind up being Monarch. But since so many fans had guessed it and expected it, DC decided that instead of continuing with a plot and character arc that made sense, they would simply reveal that Monarch was Hawk. Sure, it was a surprise! But it didn't make any fucking sense. Fucking comic books!

[dissonancedance]

“The barriers you’ve had to build to protect your mind have twisted you, driven you to kill who you could not control. Your executor is biding his time, but there isn’t enough of it for you to come into redemption on your own. We have to dissolve those barriers before your rehabilitation can begin.” 

The second half of this chapter is under complete revision, but since the first half has been complete for this long, let’s consider this a half-update. Chapter 94 below the cut and available to read on Archive of Our Own.

Painting is Lieto fine di un martire by Nicola Samorì, 2015.

Simone could feel Vidar’s eyes on her even after she stepped outside of Aguiyi’s office, his stare coating her in the same dread and helplessness that kept her awake night after night, too afraid of the nightmares waiting in sleep. As she paced, she found herself rubbing her neck, absentmindedly soothing the memories of the pain and panic he had strangled into her too often for her body to forget. The hunger and hatred that burned in his stare reached under her skin no matter how she had steeled herself to face him again. Failure echoed with each tap of her sandals on the ancient stones until the creak of the door opening stopped her pacing.

Bisi’s veiled head peeked out into the hallway, her brow creasing in concern when Simone looked up at her.

“They are about to put him under,” the Igbo woman said. “Are you ready?”

The strangeness of that question snagged a rueful smile at the corners of Simone’s mouth as she answered, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The door at the back of the office opened to a sterile white space filled with gleaming medical instruments and monitors displaying a steady stream of data from the sensors attached to her uncle’s skin. It was a stark contrast to the stuffy old-world eclecticism that steeped the room before it, the lack of garish opulence a welcomed departure after months of being trapped in the ancient mansion. Simone had been here only twice before, both times to see the bodies of her uncles. She found it just as difficult to force herself to look towards the metal table, the memories of bloodless white skin still too fresh in her mind to quite believe that they were gone. Vidar’s pale chest still rose and fell with each breath that marked him as the last of her uncles still living, nearly whole but for what she had failed to allow him to keep. The hatred from his remaining eye had dulled under the drugs, but that singular stare did not fail to latch onto her as Aguiyi beckoned her closer.

“Vidar wishes to speak with you before we intubate him,” Aguiyi whispered, his leonine beard brushing her shoulder as he loomed closer to add, “It is only a request. You needn’t fulfill it if you don’t want to.”

Of the few things she could be certain of, she knew that Vidar did not request anything of her; he only ever demanded what he could not take for himself. With him lying there, nearly paralyzed by the drugs that were lulling his brain into a pliant stupor, he could no longer take. Once this was over, he would not take from her ever again. Simone chose to go to him.

The movement of the medical staff attending the equipment around them faded into the background as she drew closer until Vidar filled her focus. The eyepatch he was wearing was gone, leaving the scarred gnarl of sunken flesh bare. Between the grisly wound and the sapphire blue of his eye, she found the wound easier to look at as she stopped at his side.

“Come closer, sweetheart,” he rasped, barely above a whisper.

Apprehension roiled in her belly, making her body slow to respond as she stepped nearer and leaned down until his scent cut through the stench of antiseptics and sterile plastics. The reactive fear that accompanied his scent splashed over her in a cold wave froze her in place.

“You wanted to speak with me, uncle?” she asked, only a little breathy from the panic that clawed at her just beneath her control.

“There you are.” He smiled, showing off the sharp points of his eyeteeth at the edge of a snarl. “I just wanted to see your face one last time before you have me executed.”

“There isn’t…” she started, abruptly aware of how many people were trying not to appear as listening around them. Leaning lower, each inch to draw nearer to Vidar grating against her instincts, she spoke softly, “The barriers you’ve had to build to protect your mind have twisted you, driven you to kill who you could not control. Your executor is biding his time, but there isn’t enough of it for you to come into redemption on your own. We have to dissolve those barriers before your rehabilitation can begin.”

The unkind smile he wore drooped under the weight of suspicion and drug-induced fatigue, his words starting to slur as he drawled, “Who the fuck put you up to this bullshit?”

“I’m just trying to do right by our family’s legacy,” she answered. “Don’t be afraid, uncle. You’re not going to die here; we won’t let you.”

  Noise buzzed and hummed through Vidar’s skull, rising from a muddled din until it collected into the sound of a voice. His head lolled, swaying with the room around him, as his eye failed to focus on the man in the wheelchair sitting across the table.

The noise mumbling out of the wheelchair man’s mouth shifted slowly towards language until he caught, “… year it is?”

Vidar frowned, or supposed he did. It was impossible to tell with how numb his face was, the numbness reaching into his mouth and rendering his tongue into a limp wad that he couldn’t figure out how to use. His answer tripped and fell flat on his too-thick tongue, managing a gargled grunt that seemed to satisfy the questioner by the way the wheelchair man wrote something down on his clipboard. Vidar watched the pen move over the paper, already having forgotten the question.

He closed his eye and opened it to darkness.

Weightlessness and silence permeated his perception. A hunger for stimulation rose from this vast nothingness in this dark space. He swallowed just to hear his esophagus click and feel it work, but the sensations were gone to the numbness as soon as they passed to leave him drifting. He could not move his hands to lift them to his face, he could not move at all. His heart raced as dread coated the aching nothingness that hollowed him, panic creeping in like ants swarming through the folds of his brain. The muscles in his body went rigid in resistance, locking his joints as he struggled to move even just a finger. He was locked inside the bleak nothing of his mind. Blood roaring in his skull, his veins bulging in thick ropes just under his skin, he tried to scream.

Relief came in the sharp sting pressed into the veins at his elbow, heat seeping through his blood until his awareness ebbed below the nothingness once more.

Hours melted into days marked by moments of vague awareness that blurred by too quickly for memory to catch. Clarity came in snapshots of insight, vague memories resurfacing to provide context to his surroundings only to dip beneath his mind’s reach a moment later. The man muttering and shuffling by in odd little steps with his head bowed low like a beaten dog was sometimes Dr. Wallace. The man in the wheelchair with his clipboard was sometimes Maier. The dark figure that occasionally watched from beyond a window was sometimes Dr. Aguiyi, sometimes he was just a demon. The pretty girl who leaned over him and whispered into his ear was only ever familiar.

“Your will is my voice, my word is your will,” she would speak into his ear as Dr. Wallace injected something into the tube running up his arm.

She turned his face to her, her hand so soft on his cheek and her silver eyes so gentle. He wanted to touch her, always starving to touch and be touched by her, but he could not move. A buzzing nothingness flooded his veins and stuffed his brain with fluff until there was no room to think, only to listen. She whispered sweetly, each word spoken so clearly and filling him with a sense of comfort, a sense of correctness. He listened as he was supposed to, only ever grateful for the hand on his cheek and the warmth in her attention.

“Follow my lead and live with purpose,” her soft tone would whisper, again and again, each syllable dripping into the emptiness with such lush and beautiful truth.

His body sang with delight and he wanted to cry out Yes, of course, but the words that gurgled up from his throat and skittered from his tongue were not words at all.

The gentle press of her thumb on his lips soothed his confusion; he did not need to speak if she did not ask it. Her hand slid down to cup his neck and delight swept any lingering regret at his ineptitude when he felt how his pulse nudged the tips of her thumb and forefinger. Tears of gratitude stung his eyes with every beat of his heart as hers to claim, every breath belonging to her as it left his parted lips. These things were all he had left to give and they were enough.

“The burden of self is too heavy to bear alone,” her quiet voice filled him until all he could do was listen. The room, the doctor watching them without ever directly looking at them, the smoldering glee from the demon on the other side of the glass, it all fell away in the distance as her voice wrapped around his mind like a soft blanket, warm and so very tight. “To live without the burden of a listless self is to be gifted with clear purpose. I am with you to bear your load and lead you to meaning.”

The comforting weight on his neck pressed down and his head swam with a tingling lightness.

Of course, he wanted to shout.

Of course he was her will. The nothing fogged up around him, thick and heavy, blotting out the light.

What a beautiful purpose to be given.

  The lab dimmed until the room was lit only by the blinking sensors and dull computer monitors, but it was enough to cast a glimmer on the liquid Vidar floated in. Simone waited for her uncle’s breathing to even out in drug-induced sleep before pulling away from the sensory deprivation bath and wiping her hand on her dress. His periods of consciousness were becoming more frequent and thankfully brief, all the better to allow this stage of the conditioning to fill in the holes the drugs were drilling through his mind.

Witnessing how much of a person could be taken, reshaped, manufactured into something so horrifyingly false was too familiar. How much of herself Simone had seen in the reconstruction of his broken mind had shaken the ramshackle foundation of identity she had pieced to hold herself together. The map of scars they were carving into her uncle’s psyche were beginning to travel the same paths that marked her own distorted damage.

She let her gaze wander over his form, his skin having lost what little color it had over the three weeks in the windowless laboratory, almost translucent now to show the blue map of veins that constantly circulated the chemical regimen to reduce his mind to malleable mush. The feeding tube diet was fighting a losing battle on maintaining his mass, but there was healing. The unexpected swelling that had been putting pressure in the Broca’s area of his brain had gone down with the integration of broader steroids strong enough for him to consistently understand speech, though he had yet to be able to form coherent responses.

This was an outcome Dr. Wallace had dubbed tolerable as they moved forward with the procedure. So long as Vidar retained the capacity to comprehend what was said to him, her words could mold him into what he had to become.

There were many aspects of this experiment they had dubbed tolerable. Beyond the calm explanations of risk versus reward, the confidence of the team, the overwhelming buzz of anticipation in the research they were all so fascinated to partake, her old wounds reached up from beneath where she had buried them to sprout new pains. It all made her sick.

Her thumb traced the ridge of Vidar’s orbital bone, so pronounced without the structure of his eyeball to plump the thin skin around it, and let the ache in her chest whisper aloud, “Isn’t life so much simpler when your choices have been reduced?”

“Let him recover, Simone,” Aguiyi’s raspy baritone came tinny and flattened through the speaker in the wall separating them. Simone jerked as she turned, surprised to see the old man still at the observation window. “He needs rest to reconstruct his neural pathways.”

Her fingers curled into a fist behind her back as her lips curled into a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping Papa occupied?”

The old man returned her smile with an amusement she did not share. “Leif has been quite adequate at keeping himself occupied lately. Have you noticed any changes in his behavior of late?”

“Don’t be coy, Doc. If you’ve got something to say to me, I’d appreciate if you’d please swallow or spit,” she frowned.

He laughed, the wheezing huffs grating her nerves until at last he said, “No, I would rather not be the one to face his wrath for spoiling the surprise. Go on and return to your quarters, girl. I think you’ll find him waiting for you.”

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - The Necklace part IV

A/N: Finally, the Broken Throne part of the series. I’m sorry I couldn’t provide anything more directly related to Shade’s death anniversary, but I still have a Shade POV story in the making ;-). For now, a little story taking place 2,5 years after the end of War Storm

Find this on wattpad and on AO3

Part I   Part II   Part III

IV

Late March had arrived when it was finally warm enough to snow. How odd to say it like that. Although Farley had grown up in a cold climate herself, the harsh winters in Montfort came as a surprise to her, its fresh winds feeling like slaps in the face.

Clara cared significantly less about it; she’d never known any other but Montfortan weather. She’d never again travelled as much as in the months before she was born, nor had she ever visited her birthplace, Piedmont, again, and was unlikely to do so in the future. Instead her focus was on what was around her and this morning, she couldn’t wait to play in the snow – the first she consciously experienced at almost three.

Every change of weather made her so curious, made her ask endless questions. Farley wasn’t good at answering them, to her despair. She had some basic knowledge from growing up on a farm, but Clara wasn’t satisfied with vague replies. Farley had begun to delve into Ascendant’s libraries to gain new insights while Carmadon Davidson became the one to react to Clara’s inquiries happily.

I’ll have to find a good school for her, Farley thought once more.

For now, Clara was distracted by the snow itself, jumping around and throwing flakes, laughing at them. The girl hadn’t been able to staunch her excitement the night before, when it had started to snow, or in the morning when her mother had insisted to wait until daylight had come and they were appropriately dressed.

Farley watched her attentively. Clara’s cheeks began to redden and she wondered how long until her clothes were thoroughly wet, if Clara continued those antics.

“Mama!” Clara called now, and Farley wondered whether she wanted company in her play, then she rushed her steps as she noticed the slight panic on Clara’s face – one she tried to hide behind a forced smile.

Farley got down on her knees in of Clara. “Well?” she teased, raising her eyebrows.

Clara blinked.

“Sunk in?” Farley stroked Clara’s capped head. Clara nodded with a pout.

“Come here,” Farley said as she lifted her up. Carefully, Clara sat down in front of her, and laid her small hands dressed in woollen gloves on her mother’s knees. She looked up. “Is there snow at the house too, Mama?” Clara asked.

“Probably. It’s not far away.”

“And the animals?” Farley raised her eyebrows. “Are they buried beneath the snow?”

“What? Of course not, Dove. They’re in stables.”

“Does our house have a stable?” Clara asked. “Does it have animals? Will we have cows?”

Clara’s excitement about their new home relieved Farley. But her expectations … “Dove, I told you – “

“Are there seals in the village? You never told me where – “

“Your mother saw seals in the Lakelands, as a child.”

Farley spun her head. The colonel stood behind them, in his dark military coat. He tilted his head. “Didn’t you, General?”

Farley chewed her lip as she pondered, confused by his presence, his interruption. That time, she remembered, I didn’t see a living seal. We ate one. “Yes,” she said aloud and caressed Clara’s cheek. The girl didn’t need to know that detail. “They were funny, Dove.” She smiled, and Clara’s eyes widened, the harbinger of more questions to come. Farley sighed. “I wonder why you asked about seals. Is something with Molly?” That was what she called her beloved plush toy seal, after Mare’s middle name.

“Ah ...” Clara hesitated. “She’s … over there …” She pointed somewhere into the whiteness.

Farley cupped her face with her hands and kissed her – cold – nose. “Why don’t you go look for her?” she proposed. Quickly, Clara rose and stumbled forward into the white mass. Farley shifted her position to look at her father.

She didn’t speak until he sat down opposite her, to her surprise. So indignant. She spared him a comment about old bones out in the cold and waited.

“I’ve heard you bought a house in Montfort,” he said eventually.

“In a village close by, with good access to the capital,” she confirmed after another moment. “A small house, since there’re only the two of us.”

“So you’ll settle here.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Clara knows Montfort best, and it’s where the rest of her family lives.”

He cleared his throat. “When is that?”

Her eyes searched for Clara in the snow. “I wanted to wait till spring – real spring – and then renovate first. But I’ll have to do that anyway, and until then, we’ll be guests of friends again. As I was reminded how long these winters are.” She shrugged, then looked at him. “It’s in a week,” she stated.

He nodded and rose. His gaze went in the same direction as hers, toward Clara. “I’ll return to the Lakelands.”

That stunned her. “Oh.”

His hands sank into his coat pockets. “The reports all talk of problems, uprisings and arrests. Our work isn’t done there, Diana. The Lakelands didn’t have the same luck as Norta or Montfort.” She bit her lip. “Don’t you care about where we started?” he asked, thankfully, without using her name again.

“I give my all,” she said, and stood up as well.

“I didn’t mean it like that – “

“No?” She glared at him. But she knew he still wanted an answer. Didn’t he listen to her, couldn’t he guess? Her gaze returned to Clara.

“Don’t you miss them?” he asked eventually, strangely quiet.

I miss him, she was tempted to bark back. Even after all this time. But it would still be a lie by omission, and the way he looked at her, with a raw emotion for the first time in years, she couldn’t. It was the admittance she’d waited for, the acknowledgement that her father missed and mourned Madeline and her mother, too.

“I do,” she whispered, and then louder, “I know very well how the Lakelands are at the moment. It’s not a place for her to grow up.”

He said nothing.

“I … I thought home is overrated. I didn’t care about having a certain place since … well. Home is the people you love. Who you miss. I believed as long as we have each other …” she shook her head and laughed mirthlessly. “So, in the last months, I brought Clara along on my travels. Thought she’s old enough, and I believed she liked it. I did. But one morning, after we’d arrived in a new base the night before, she came at me, asking for that toy, this shirt, and I had to tell her I left them behind. You see, I’ve travelled lightly, had only the basics packed for her, too, since she’s growing so fast. And the bases we stayed at had most things.” He nodded. “But then, Clara started to cry, and said she had nothing, and couldn’t be comforted. Wouldn’t be.” It had felt like a stab, like failure. Clara had gone to the person looking after the children at the base and had hardly spoken to her mother for the rest of the day.

“She was only happier once I gave her the plush seal that day. I’d gotten it for her as fast as possible, and she loves it. Like the photo of her father I gave her to take care of.” She sniffed to hide the tears in her eyes. The colonel only looked at her, unusually calm. She wondered why, suddenly, she wanted to talk to him. Maybe it was a bad conscience.

“Well, I figured she needs more than that. She’s too small for this, no matter how brave she is; she needs a real home.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “She can’t wait until we move in.”

He didn’t reply.

“Dove!” she called, and caught her daughter’s attention. “Do you have her now?”

“Even I can see it,” the colonel said, squinting his eyes.

“She just wants to play a little longer,” she said, shaking her head.

He coughed. “Why do you call her ‘Dove’?”

She blinked and turned her head to him. “She …  loves the sky. And even before …” Her hands wandered into her coat pockets as she searched for words. “She was born during a storm, and I’ve always wondered if that meant something.” She felt her cheeks blushing, it sounded so silly. But the Lightning Girl’s niece, born during a storm? Farley couldn’t have helped laughing when she’d gone into labour and the next thing she noticed were the thunder and lightning outside.

Now she stepped ahead to join Clara.

“I wanted to wait until your birthdays,” the colonel said behind her. “As you’ve told me to,” he added. “To give it to her once Clara’s old enough.”

Finally, she glanced over her shoulder. She swallowed.

He produced a pouch. “It’s time, Diana, now that we’re separating ways.”

She inclined her chin ever so slightly before she went to pick up Clara.

She held Clara up in her arms as Clara held her plush seal. “Grandfather has something for you,” she whispered into the girl’s ear, waking Clara’s curiosity.

The colonel nodded solemnly and, with hesitation, patted Clara’s head, adding to the handful of times he’d ever touched his grandchild. The golden necklace shimmered in his other hand, filigree around his calloused fingers. “It belonged to your grandmother once,” he said. “Did your mother tell you about her? You share her name.”

Clara nodded, fascinated by the jewellery, or possibly by her grandfather’s rare closeness. She outstretched her arms, but it was he who carefully fixed it around her neck, despite her thick coat, scarf and hat. “Take good care of it,” he asked, and then he cupped her small face, for a moment, the closest he’d ever come to a hug.

“I will,” Clara promised enthusiastically, not nearly as weighed down by the necklace’s sad memories as he or her mother. “Thank you, Grandfather,” Clara added.

That made him smile, to Farley’s shock. She almost read, she has better manners than you, in his expression.

“Take care of yourself,” Farley said to him. She bit her lip. This is really a goodbye. She shifted her hold on Clara and offered her hand. He shook it.

“Farewell, General, Clara,” said he, and like that, they turned into different directions, leaving the other behind.

Farley realized Clara would have more questions to ask now, about her mother’s family. It was a good thing. Loss and grief and war had made Farley ignore her family. Clara made her remember.

 @clarafarleybarrow (I hope you find the time to read this and to have it cheer you up <3) @mareshmallow @lilyharvord @elliemarchetti @redqueenfandom @sarcasm-and-procastination @inopinion @carstairsjames @selenbean-beany @eurydicel @slightlyobsessing @naercxy @elfhamesqueen @scarletguardsource

[study-with-nina]

[taken from my blog]

I'm an avid reader. There's nothing I love more than diving into a new novel, whether it be nonfiction about a recent scientific discovery or a centuries-old classic. In 2018 alone, I read 46 books, and started three more that I will finish in the new year. Since making a commitment for my New Year's resolution to read 40 books in 2018, I have read some astonishingly good novels. Here are ten of my favorites, in no particular order.

[in the interest of transparency, I will note that any books purchased through the links provided will provide you with a discount as well as give me a small commission (:]

1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

This book was actually the first book I read this year, and it still has a special place in my heart. The Book Thief is a story about a young German girl growing up during the Holocaust, and her love of reading that pits her against Hitler's regime. It was refreshingly somber to see the Holocaust era from a new view -- not that of a Jewish person, nor a soldier, but a civilian child growing up surrounded by hate speech and propaganda. Liesel's actions and her love for her little family tugged at my heartstrings many times, and this book is one of the few that makes it onto my "reread someday" list. (P.S., the movie is incredible as well, and is one of the few that seems to follow the book as accurately as possible.)

2. The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

I actually finished this book in record time -- I just could not put it down. The Hate U Give is a gritty, realistic view into what it's like to grow up black in America, and the unique set of challenges that black people face in regards to police brutality and everyday racism -- from friends as well as foes. After 17-year-old Starr witnesses her friend's death at the hands of a cop, she must decide whether to keep her mouth shut or risk bringing attention -- mostly negative -- to herself. Who will believe her, anyway? This book was so profoundly impactful while being written in the voice of a teenage girl, conflicted and alone. Definitely one of my top books of all time.

3. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Honestly, I didn't have high expectations coming into this book. I had seen posters for the movie, and assumed it was just another 3-star read with a profitable idea to make into a movie. I am glad to say that I was wrong. This book, set in the year 2045, follows the adventures of teenager Wade Watts as he navigates the world of the OASIS, an online utopia in which citizens live out their lives, in search of a formidable prize hidden someone in the OASIS's thousands of worlds. Wade is a lower-income resident, and the OASIS is all he has -- so he's willing to risk it all for the chance to win the prize and discover the secret of the online universe's creator. This novel is fast-paced and well-written, and is a must-read for anyone who loves anything 80s, as the challenge is focused around 80s culture. (Call Ferris Bueller -- we're going on one heck of an adventure.)

4. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Despite the books listed previously, I typically tend to read nonfiction or classic literature, and don't often branch out into contemporary fiction. But I had heard rave reviews of Little Fires Everywhere, so I decided to check it out, and it quickly became a favorite of mine. The narrative reminds me of that of East of Eden by John Steinbeck, my favorite novel of all time, in the way that it follows the struggles and interconnectedness of a family, somehow without having an explicitly describable plot ("I don't know, they just...exist") but still managing to pull you in just as deep. Like East of Eden, Little Fires Everywhere follows the story of two very different families: the Richardsons, a large, wealthy family with multiple strong, conflicting personalities; and the Warrens, a small, close-knit mother and daughter duo who never lay roots in any one place. The story has a sort of coming-of-age feel to it, as the lives of the Richardson and Warren teens and their age-appropriate struggles are discussed, but also a hint of mystery as Mrs. Richardson attempts to track down the origins of the mysterious Mia Warren. This book made me laugh, cry, and everything in between, and I was so obsessed that I finished the 11-and-a-half-hour-long audiobook in the span of five days (despite the fact that I worked double shifts most of those days). Again, this book is definitely one of my favorites of all time, and one of the rare stories whose characters you still wonder about long after the book is over.

5. Misbehaving: The Making of Behavioral Economics by Richard H. Thaler

I have never taken an economics course (though I have dabbled in Crash Course videos here and there) and economics is not an important component of either of my majors (Biological Sciences and Political Science). However, this book was so intriguing that I promptly forgot both of those points. Misbehaving is an excellent introduction to behavioral economics, written simply enough that someone with little to no background knowledge in economics (such as myself) can comprehend, but still intricate enough that the material couldn't fit in a ten-minute Youtube video. Thaler, one of the earliest behavioral economists, describes how the subject came into importance among other economic and business-related topics, as well as how its marriage of economic and financial principles and behavioral psychology lend important insights to businesses as well as individuals. The difficulty of the content is offset with plenty of easy-to-understand examples, and the book reads like a history driven by discovery, with reviews of behavioral economics principles along the way. Though the subject of economics is not one that interests me as much as, say, politics or medicine, I still thoroughly enjoyed this book, and would recommend it as an interesting read that serves as a light workout for your brain.

6. The Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women” by Kate Moore

I'd be lying if I said this book didn't make me cry multiple times. The Radium Girls is a true story of America's dial painters, the hundreds of young women who painted radium onto watches during the First World War, and the consequences of their position on their health and livelihood. In the days of World War I, jobs for women were few and far between, and becoming a dial painter was the most coveted position among women in their late teens and early twenties, unmarried and looking for some pocket money to buy the latest trends. This narrative follows the story of these dial-painters and how their distinct, omnipresent glow of radium dust went from being wondrous to becoming deadly. As the poisonous radium attacked these young women's bodies, causing them to rapidly and irreparably decay, the radium girls fought for the right to be heard, and to stop the radium industry from pulling any more girls into its vehement trap. This book was deeply heart-wrenching, following the lives of a few bright-eyed young dial painters to their young graves, and a valuable insight into the suppression of women's voices in the early 20th century.

7. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

This novel was another popular book that I didn't expect to enjoy nearly as much as I did. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is a biography of the life of fictitious movie star Evelyn Hugo, as told to the young and relatively unknown reporter Monique Grant. Evelyn unfurls her story, from escaping poverty to begin her acting career in her late teens, and the myriad of men that came into and left her life across the span of her career and its aftermath. I won't spoil the big twist (or two) that the novel provides, but it most certainly wasn't the "straight bullsh*t" I was expecting based on its title. It is an intense, poignant life of a woman who dared to obtain what she wanted by any means possible, only to discover that her heart lied elsewhere.

8. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

This book was a humorous yet momentous glance into the life of a woman named Eleanor Oliphant, who is perfectly fine, thank you very much. Eleanor doesn't really fit in at the office; her harsh realism and her inability to understand social cues make that quite difficult. But that's fine, because Eleanor has it all planned out. Every week, she follows the same plan, never deviating from her schedule of Wednesday night calls with Mummy, Friday night frozen pizzas, and sleeping off a vodka hangover every Saturday morning. However, when Eleanor and her coworker Raymond save the life of an elderly gentleman who fell near them on their way to work one day, Eleanor's life begins to change in profound ways, and she realizes that maybe "fine" isn't the best way to be, after all. Eleanor's story was touching yet hilarious, and was yet another novel that I could not put down. For anyone looking for a novel starring an out-of-the-ordinary heroine and lacking a predictable romance component, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is the novel for you.

9. The President is Missing by Bill Clinton and James Patterson

This fast-paced, gritty novel breaks the wall between the life of a president and the nation, and introduces us to the world of Washington politics and the counterterrorism approach. The President is Missing follows President Duncan, a tenacious war veteran, as he attempts to circumvent impeachment trials brought forth by members of the opposite party while maintaining the secret of a massive, nation-decimating cyber threat from the citizens of the U.S. This narrative is fast-paced, with twists and turns at every stop, and kept me guessing until the end what the outcome would be. The novel reads like a classic James Patterson thriller with the added expertise of a former president to reveal the intricacies of American politics and the battles of the elites.

10. Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain

My final novel is one that I finished a mere four days prior to writing this post, but one that already has a special place in my heart. Quiet explores the world of introverts, from their underrepresentation in U.S. culture and their hidden talents unique from extroverts. Though I identify as an ambivert (both extroverted and introverted), I felt this was an incredible analysis into the powers of introverts, and why American society should stop trying to force the extrovert ideal on those that are not born to be extroverted. I particularly enjoyed how Cain drew in principles of biology, psychology, and business, and described not only how introverts are wired differently from birth, but their benefits to jobs that are even as high-stakes and fast-paced as the stock market. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who struggles with introversion (if you dread speaking in front of a class, this is probably you) or anyone interested in the biological basis of personality and behavior.

Out of the 46 books I read in 2018, those are the ones that have stood out to me the most, and I would certainly recommend each and every one of them. If you would like more book recommendations, feel free to ask -- I'm always reading something new! Happy new year!