#Hidden Depths

[toyastales]

There is beauty in the murky depths of nature!

[quofide]

Remembering "Angel Hare"

This is Angel Hare. An indie series made by the Mangan Sisters/The East Patch. Sometime around 2022.

It's one of my favorite Analog Horror Series. But sadly not a well known one. It's also relatively new as it's first episode is only a year old.

The next few excerpts I have taken from TV Tropes becouse I couldn't do them justice. I'm not a thief. Just incompetent.

"The story follows a young man named Jonah, who one day walks into a thrift store and discovers an official VHS copy of an old childhood show he used to love: Angel Hare, a 6 episode Christian based cartoon about the adventures of Francis the Badger and his friend Angel Gabby, the titular angelic hare.

Overcome by nostalgia and an old sense of comfort, he buys the tape, despite already having all the episodes of the original airing of the show recorded back home, anddecides to watch it, but he immediately notices that something is … off.

The show as presented on the tape is completely different from the one he remembers. Fortunately, he does have his own recording of the show to compare it to, so he starts uploading comparison videos of the two versions of the show onto Youtube.

From there he finds himself going down the rabbit hole of childhood memories as he slowly starts to realize exactly how strange his old recording actually is, and that Angel Gabby is definitely way more than she seems.

He may have forgotten Angel Hare, but Angel Hare sure hasn't forgotten him."

I watched the entire show at the beginning of the year. I loved it. But it looked like it was over...

UNTIL IT WASN'T!

They posted new Episodes! And made a new plot hook! I was even mentioned! Me! Some nobody from nowhere!

So in return I thought I'd try to support them in the only way I could before I get a Patreon. By spreading awareness baby!

So.. Uh... Go watch it? Subscribe to the East Patch, like and comment so the algorithm notices it.

It's a very unique type of story. Maybe even a bit of a subversion.

Also if you haven't noticed, I'm not very good at promoting.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 22 ~ There's no me without you

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CWs: just put an angst stamp on this piece already. Not much else. Resh is still confused and unsure what’s real. 

WC: 2929

Taglist: @dont-touch-my-soup, @kixngiggles

In which things are not what they seem

AN: So uh. Hi? *waves uncertainly*

I was trying to finish this story before posting anymore, but uh, it's been almost a year. So. *throws a chapter out* I have four more after this, so I'll resume my friday posting schedule for those. After which, we are nearing the end, folks. I just gotta figure out what that looks like XD

Carr

The bandit leader stalked down the hall, further into the interior of the cabin. Carr followed, mostly because Demex’s arm around her shoulders left her no choice. Every step away from Resh felt wrong, painful. She should be there with him. But she couldn’t do that, not yet. 

Focus, she told herself. 

They stopped outside another door. Lox withdrew a key–from an interior pocket, Carr noted–and unlocked it. Nothing but a dark pit greeted them until the bandit leader lit a lamp, illuminating a small, sparsely furnished space. Which was where they left Carr as Lox took Demex aside–for more questioning, she assumed. The door closed behind them. 

No lock clicked, but she was as trapped in there as if it had. She shuddered. 

Focus. 

Her gaze swept the room, taking stock. There was nowhere for her to sit unless she wanted to take the chair behind the crudely carved desk that was this barren chamber’s only decoration. Voices murmured from behind the door. She moved closer but was unable to make out the words, so she took to pacing instead.

She needed to think, to plan. This was as ill-advised an operation as she’d ever undertaken, every move dependent on the actions and reactions of complete unknowns. She was too emotionally invested and she knew it, but it was a risk she needed to take. If only she could concentrate. 

But the skirt swishing around her legs felt wrong. The bodice of her dress was too damned tight. The sheath on her thigh was too light without the weight of her blade. Her fingers twitched over her leg before she jerked them away to pull at her neckline. 

What was her angle here? She was a little wary about what was involved in Demex taking responsibility for her. Was she to live with him? Do more than live with him? Beads of sweat formed on her brow at the idea. 

For Resh. It was the thought that had gotten her through everything up until this point. How far was she willing to take that, though? 

If she was willing to die for him, then surely she could get through living with, and gods forbid, possibly fucking this bandit who’d stuck his neck out for her. Carr wiped her damp palms on her skirt. It wouldn’t be forever. Just until reinforcements arrived. Or until she got tired of waiting and snuck Resh out with her. 

The door opened almost silently behind her, and she spun, her left hand clenching the fabric of the dress over her empty thigh sheath. 

The corner of Lox’s mouth crooked up. “You look nervous, girl.” 

Carr’s lips set in a thin line. She almost crossed her arms over her chest but, at the last minute, clasped her hands at her waist. More ladylike and all. She thought.  

The bandit leader’s smile grew, and he crossed the room, perching on the edge of the desk rather than taking a seat in the chair behind it. 

“So,” he drawled, withdrawing a small blade from his hip and using it to pick beneath his fingernails. “You have Demex wrapped around your little finger, it seems.” 

Her eyes snapped up from the knife to meet his, her mouth parting on a denial that didn’t make it past her lips. 

“Don’t bother denyin’ it, girl. You were caught on the edge of my fucking camp, chased down like a fox caught with chicken feathers pasted to its snout. What I want to know is, how’d you find us, and what’s it you’re lookin’ for?” 

“I stumbled upon you, is all,” Carr said, crossing her arms over her chest after all. “Saw the women, thought it would be safe enough t’ ask them for aid. Didn’t take much with me when I ran.” 

“Ran from what?” Lox asked, sounding bored as he peered at his nails. He began to shave the edges of one, the pieces littering the desk in little flakes of white. 

Carr wrinkled her nose. “Father arranged a match I didn’t much care for.” 

“Mmhmm.” Lox glanced up for a moment before returning to his grooming. “Not sure I believe that.” 

Silence, aside from the little ticking sounds the knife made against his nails, stretched out. Carr squeezed her arms, fighting the urge to fidget, which would just look like a sign of guilt. He hadn’t asked a question. There was nothing to say. 

The bandit leader switched hands, using the knife as expertly with his left as he had with his right. Which was just great. Not that she had expected any different, but she was at a serious disadvantage with this guy. 

She would give a lot to get out of this godsdamned dress and have a blade in her palm right now. 

She would give a lot to get in that room down the hall, to check on Resh. But she couldn’t let on that she knew him, now could she. Carr stared at the floor, lost in thought while she waited on the bandit leader’s whim. Supposing she was allowed to stay, how could she get to him without raising suspicion? 

Sensing more than seeing the movement as Lox stood, Carr took a step back, purposely widening her eyes when she looked up at the bandit leader. Hopefully, he didn’t notice her first glance went to his blade, noting the tension in his arm, rather than his face. 

Lox snorted. “Surprised you survived long enough to find us, even. Assumin’ you want to stay here?” 

“I’d appreciate whatever aid you’re willin’ t’ give,” she said carefully, hunching her shoulders. 

“Don’t give aid out for free. Nor do I allow strangers knowledge of my camp. Only thing saving you right now is Demex’s protection. Fuckin’ fool that he is.” Lox stroked a newly manicured hand over his short beard, his eyes nothing more than cold chips of ice as he looked her over. 

Shit, this man was as ruthless as a pack leader in the city. 

“But. If you accept his protection, you can stay. Providin’ you prove yourself. You’ll be put to work like any other member of this community.”  

Community. That he referred to it as such said a lot about his intentions for his people, no matter how intimidating he made things sound. Still, she wanted it said plain.  

“What does his protection mean, exactly?” 

“Until it’s been determined you can be trusted, you are attached to his ass. You sleep in his tent. You eat when he eats. You go where he goes, you stay where he tells you. If you don’t…” 

She swallowed, fingers digging into her arms hard enough to bruise. “If I don’t?” 

A thud was her only answer, the tip of his knife burying itself deep in the scarred surface of the desk. 

Well, that explained that. Carr supposed if she refused that would also be her fate. She swallowed and tipped her chin to Lox. 

So be it. 

~~~

“I’m a light sleeper,” Demex warned, the words slightly muffled as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him bare-chested. He tossed it in a basket by the entrance of his surprisingly spacious canvas tent, then grabbed a cloth before walking over to the wash basin. “Just so’s you don’t get any ideas about nighttime wanderings.” 

Carr made a noncommittal noise, turning away when he untied his pants, her cheeks flushing. There was one pallet in this godsdamned tent, so it was pretty obvious where he expected her to sleep. She sincerely hoped he planned on putting some clothes back on, though. 

One of the women had donated a worn cotton shift, which was all she was wearing after her own hasty ablutions had been attended to. She fisted her hand in the fabric. Her dress had been taken away, and she could only hope she would be given something else to wear in the morning. 

First, she had to get through this night. 

“Well? You coming?” 

She started, not having realized the splashing noises had stopped. “Depends on if you’re naked or not,” she said through clenched teeth. 

Demex chuckled. “I put pants on. But I’ll gladly remove them if that’s an issue.” 

Scowling, Carr spun, then swiped an overly long piece of hair from her face. 

He laughed even harder. “Not an issue, I’m guessin’. Ah well.” Patting the pallet, he said, “C’mon. Got an early morning.” 

Stiffly, Carr took the required few steps to reach the corner where the pallet lay. She had to step over Demex to get to her spot; apparently, she needed to be wedged between his body and the canvas wall of the tent despite his claims of sleeping lightly. 

Her whole body was screaming at her as she sat. She pulled her legs up to her chest under the shift. Trapped, and with some random man with unknown intentions. She might be willing to entertain certain scenarios to stay close to Resh, but she didn’t have to fucking like them. 

“Relax,” Demex said, the playfulness dropping from his tone. “Not in the habit of forcin’ myself on the unwilling. You’re safe enough with me. If you change your mind, though…” 

The look on her face must’ve been answer enough because he cleared his throat rather than finish that thought. 

“Lay down,” is all he said before pulling up the covers and blowing out the lantern. 

Darkness descended like a shroud.

Carr lay on her back, barely breathing as she waited for Demex to reach for her, to prove his pretty words only lasted as long as the light. It was so dark there was hardly any point to keeping her eyes open, but they wouldn’t close. Neither would her heart slow, or her hands stop clutching the blanket so hard her bones creaked in protest. 

But eventually, his breathing settled into the rhythm of sleep. All without him laying one finger on her. Amazing. 

Carr let time slip by, measured by the chirp of the night bugs and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Demex began snoring, then snuffled before rolling onto his side, judging by the angle of the blanket. Slowly, Carr released her death grip on the fabric, pushing it off her until it no longer lay between her and escape. 

When Demex didn’t react, she carefully sat up. She was going to see just how lightly this man slept. 

By the time she was done wriggling off the pallet, her skin was sticky with sweat, and Demex was still sound asleep. Not so lightly after all, it seemed. Good. 

Getting out of the tent was child’s play. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, so the moon gave her plenty of light to navigate by. She easily made her way back to the large cabin where she’d seen Resh, avoiding the two guards patrolling the camp. 

That was where her luck ended. 

Voices raised from inside the cabin, and she pressed herself against the wall, cursing the white fabric of the shift she wore. Some of the shutters were open; had they seen her?  

“Damnit, hold him still!” one of the voices ordered, the tone muffled as though they were in an interior room. 

Carr inched along the wall of the cabin, keeping an eye out for guards as she tried to pinpoint the voice’s location. 

Someone coughed, the sound of it wet and violent, and she shuddered. 

“Kid’s fuckin’ determined to be as difficult as possible,” another voice grunted. Lox’s voice. 

Fuck, were they with Resh? Of all the rotten timing… Carr ground her teeth. They’d leave him eventually. They had to. In the meantime, she needed a way inside. 

Along the same wall, she found an open shutter and hesitantly peered inside. With Lox and the other person she’d glimpsed earlier with Resh, this was probably the best opportunity to gain entrance. Then she’d hide, wait for them to leave him, and slip in after them. 

With any luck, no one else would be in residence, and Demex wouldn’t wake up and miss her before she returned to his side. She would’ve prayed if she’d thought the gods would listen to her, but she didn’t. Instead, she swung over the sill into what appeared to be a kitchen. Fuck. 

A door slammed closed, followed by muttering that got closer and closer. 

Fuck fuck fuck. She’d had to choose the window into the most visited area of any dwelling. Her eyes lit on a table, nestled into a dark corner the moonlight didn’t quite reach. She ducked underneath it right as the person walked into the room, still grumbling. 

They poured liquid into a cup, closed and latched the shutters, and shuffled back out in short order. Thankfully so, because Carr was fairly sure she hadn’t breathed the entire time they were there. 

She wasn’t sure how long she crouched under the table in the dark, but eventually, one set of footsteps left Resh’s room and didn’t go back in. Then a second. Another door closed somewhere in the cabin. 

By the time she dared crawl out, her legs were half asleep. She took the time to massage feeling back into them, needing to be able to feel for creaky floorboards, then crept down the hall. 

She was horribly exposed standing out there, so she wasted no time pulling a pin from her hair to pick the lock on the door. She didn’t really care what they thought about it being open in the morning, if they even noticed. 

They had been kind enough not to leave him in the dark. The lantern burned low but steady on a small bedside table, which meant she should be able to read his lips. 

Resh didn’t appear to be asleep, but he didn’t look at her when she approached, either. Her chest ached as she noted the tear tracks on his face, the hollow look in his eyes, and the stained bandage wrapping his upper torso. Abrasions circled his wrists, like he’d been tied down at some point, but she was relieved that wasn’t the case now. She wasn’t sure she could’ve left him that way, and she would be the first person suspected of helping him.     

“Resh,” she whispered, sitting on the bed beside him. When he didn’t respond, she reached out to cup his cheek, whispering his name again. 

To her horror, his chest heaved, like he was crying, and more tears leaked from his eyes to verify that fact. He shook his head, avoiding her touch, his lips moving even while his gaze remained trained on the ceiling. 

Not real. She’s dead. Not real. 

Over and over, he said it between heart-wrenching sobs. 

“No, Resh, no!” Carr leaned over him, taking his face between both hands and forcing him to look at her. “I’m here, I’m real.” 

Of course, the bandits had assumed she and Orla had died in the crash, despite the lack of bodies. Or maybe they just hadn’t bothered to search too hard. Resh must’ve heard, oh gods… 

“I’m not dead,” she whispered harshly, “and neither is Orla.” 

Hands wrapped around her wrists, tugging, but there was no real strength in their grip. Carr refused to release him. “Resh, look at me.” 

He was looking, but not really. More like staring right through her. 

She made a menacing sound low in her throat. “Look at me.” 

Glassy eyes focused at last, and then… Carr? 

Her name on his lips was the best thing she’d seen in days. “Yes, yes, it’s me.” He made to shake his head again, but she stopped him. “I’m here, and I’m real.” 

He looked so defeated and hopeless as he stared at her, and it broke her heart. Feels real but… can’t… trust. 

“I promise I’m real.” Her breath hitched, and she reached up to brush a curl that was sticking to his face away. “You’re so hot. Do you have a fever?” 

He started crying again, his lips moving, but the words were too disjointed for her to make much sense of. The ones she did catch sent chills down her spine. 

Can’t trust can’t trust can’t… killed them. Can’t tell… Prince, not Prince. No. Nonono. But if not… gods, it hurts. Worse, so much worse. Please no. 

He didn’t know where he was, she realized. Couldn’t ground himself. It didn’t take a genius to imagine his sleepless nights while traveling had to do with his ordeal, but she hadn’t realized how lost he could become in them. 

And lost he was. Between the fever, the pain, and the uncertainty, he clearly didn’t know which way was up. 

He needed her–but she couldn’t stay much longer. She could tell him she was real until she was blue in the face, but as soon as she left, he’d doubt. 

Fucking shit. 

~~~

Leaving Resh in that room was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. 

Somehow, she made it back to Demex’s tent unseen, but he stirred when she shimmied back in under the blanket. 

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled sleepily, slipping an arm around her waist. 

Carr stiffened as he pulled her back against his chest, hurriedly wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“R’lax,” Demex said, nestling his face into her hair. 

Yeah, right. Relax. That was so not happening. But she wouldn’t get a stronger alibi than this man thinking he’d cuddled with her all night. 

She forced some of the tension from her muscles and closed her aching eyes. If this was all that was required, she should be grateful. 

For Resh.  

Next

[the-lights-are-loud]

It’s terrifying. Rumors of relentless assassins and boundless war on the tip of each tongue. It’s not something you would expect a child to be familiar with, let alone fully understand. Nothing was surprising to his ears. Why would it? It had been one of the things he’d known since birth.

Sometimes he would tip-toe around their quarters at night, listening to each room. His parents had hushed whispers, soft arguments, and muffled pacing. His brother was seldom quiet. Impatient flipping of papers, grunts and huffs of arms practice, and frequent escapes to the kitchens. His room was always dark and silent. Tomblike.

There were other whispers. Ones that intrigued his young mind. The whisperings of answers, of hope, of safety. He followed these. The stories of faraway prophecies, curse-breakers, and magical heroes. This was what kept him up at night. 

“Son, you need to focus. These meetings are important.” His father pulled him from a daydream of peaceful uncertainty.

“Sorry, sir. Uh, but if they are so important, wouldn’t it be okay for me to read what the scribes write? That way I can get more out of them?” He immediately shut his mouth, an apologetic expression quickly spreading across his face. It was out of line to speak against him.

His father huffed, “You must learn now that you won’t always have time to review these meetings. You need to be able to make decisions with what you know. So please, pay attention.”

“Yes sir,” he breathed, shaking at the idea of that future. One where he would have to do this. By himself. He suppressed the urge to hide, to panic, to tremble. 

The rest of the meetings crawled by. Each commoner, noble, and guardsman had their two bits to give. He couldn’t help it, his mind wandered, wanting for life, unlike this one. One that was blessed, unkind, and didn’t have the weight of the world. Where he could be free, to choose, to live, to leave, the allure drew him.

“Your Majesties.” The strange tone drew him back to reality, raspy and sour with no fullness to the sound. Standing in front of their dais, directly beneath his hard throne, was a woman. He had never seen someone who looked so young, yet so old. Her hair was a brilliant white, hanging around her shoulders, like thin, fragile crystals. Her eyes were piercing, vivid blue, holding infinite wisdom, and childlike wonder. She had few wrinkles and the ones she did have crinkled at the edges of her eyes and mouth, from years of the practice of smiling. Her robes were nondescript, a simple, rich brown. Her arms were open like she was preparing for an embrace.

“Your Majesties, I bring tidings of hope. All is not lost for you.” She measured her words like they were rehearsed.

“And who are you to proclaim this?” His father interjected. His interest was clearly piqued, but he radiated skepticism. 

“Someone you haven’t heard from in a while.”

“And who might that be?” His mother finally spoke, clearly annoyed with the roundabout exchange. The strange woman smiled.

“I am Lachesis, The Oracle.”

His father shot up, hands balled into fists. “Get you and your black magic out of my home, and out of my kingdom.” 

Terrified of his father’s words, he flinched back. For once, he didn’t understand. She backed away.

“If you seek answers, my library is open, even when I’m gone.” She smirked at him and his brother. “You have made a mistake sending me away before I can save you.”

“Get out of here. Get. Out.” His father’s voice was shaking. He wasn’t the only one. 

“Boys, go upstairs, your tutors are waiting.” His mother ushered them out of their seats. He couldn’t help but try his hardest to stay.

“Young Prince, you will come looking for me soon,” she cackled, those eyes that were once wise, now insane.

“Konrad,” his mother snapped at him. He was rooted in place as he watched Lachesis be dragged from the room. “Konrad, leave.”

His feet walked him out of the room, but his mind was still on his cold throne, watching his father yell, his mother scream, and guards close the hall's doors. He could still hear the maniacal laughter ringing in his ears.

[triscribeaucollection]

New installment of my PJO Trade AU in the works:

So, apparently demigods didn’t get sick very often.

But when they did?

Hoooo boy did they pull out all the stops.

Thalia readjusted the thick cloth tied around her face and tucked into her shirt collar, before hefting up her latest pair of buckets filled with ice water. Almost made her wistful for the invisible spirit servants on Ogygia, honestly.

As best they’d been able to figure, it started in the Hermes cabin. Three separate new arrivals had come in the week before and been shuffled into the catch-all cabin, though only one stayed there as an unclaimed demigod, the other two heading off to Apollo and Demeter’s cabins, respectively. But regardless, at least one of them came in with some kind of nasty bug without showing any symptoms, and the Hermes kids were the first to get taken out.

Luke wasn’t the senior half blood by any means, but when the Head of the cabin went down puking her guts out, he took charge pretty quick. As soon as he realized more kids than not were dealing with the dizzy spells that preceded the sniffling and then vomit, Thalia’s best friend closed up shop, turning the whole cabin into a quarantine zone. Unfortunately, that practically guaranteed any camper inside who hadn’t caught the bug yet was screwed, but they all obeyed Luke’s orders, reluctantly agreeing to it for the greater good.

Then a daughter of Dionysus collapsed in the dining pavilion, and everything went downhill from there.

Twelve cabins housed all of Camp Half Blood’s demigod population. Three stood empty most if not all of the time (Artemis, Zeus, and Hera); that left nine full of teenagers ripe for infection. Five filled up with feverish groans fairly quickly. The Athena kids tried to close up shop before any of their members could get sick, but missed the mark, and within two days more than half of them were bedridden, including Annabeth. Thalia didn’t dare set foot inside, but she’d at least spoken to the younger girl a little through a closed window, and promised something special once Annabeth felt better.

“But if you die, I get to keep it,” she warned, only to laugh when the eleven year old petulantly stuck out her tongue.

The Apollo campers, gods love ‘em, emptied out the Big House infirmary and went mobile. Those who fell ill were banished back to their cabin, but the rest maintained the closest they could get to hospital protective gear and delivered soup, drinks, and other necessities to everyone else. Kids caught in the spiked fever phase were wiped down repeatedly with cold wet washcloths, while those wracked by dry heaving got the same pressed firmly against the backs of their necks.

But that meant a lot of cold wet cloth constantly warming up and drying out, which meant a fresh supply of ice water was badly needed.

Hence Thalia, decked out like a background extra in a post apocalypse film, lugging heavy buckets up to the cabins again and again and again. She wasn’t the only one by any means; the magical beings employed by Chiron as security and cleaning crew and whatnot were all pitching in too, since they couldn’t get sick like demigods. But that meant Thalia needed to dodge around other folks and their buckets on her back-and-forth trips, which felt progressively trickier as the fourth day of Camp versus Plague dragged on and warmed up.

At some point in the early afternoon, as she set down her empty buckets for another refill, an Apollo kid decked out in yellow vinyl gloves and an actual medical facemask came scurrying up to try and shove two wrapped sandwiches into her hands. “I just need one, thanks,” Thalia told him. Her stomach twisted; maybe make that only half of one.

But the kid shook their head. “The other’s for Percy.”

“Yeah, no, that’s gotta wait, I don’t set foot in our cabin until the end of the day, after I’ve scrubbed my skin down to the cellular level.” Like Tartarus was Thalia tracking germs home to infect her little cousin.

Above the line of their mask, the Apollo kid’s eyes scrunched. “But he’s not at the Poseidon cabin?”

“...what.”

“I saw him helping with laundry, just a little while ago. Looked like he was past ready for a break, too. Like you,” the kid added pointedly, before they successfully maneuvered the sandwiches into Thalia’s unresistant grasp. She only blinked as the twerp took off again, before tipping her head back with a groan.

Percy, helping out with laundry. When Thalia specifically ordered him to stay put in their cabin, away from fevers and vomit and all the camp-wide nastiness. For a moment she idly wondered if losing Poseidon’s favor would be worth strangling the self-sacrificing idiot.

...nah. Probably not.

Sighing, Thalia abandoned her buckets and went to find Percy.

If only so she could throw him headfirst into the lake.

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . it's impossible to know how people live inside themselves, isn't it? I mean, a life could seem boring on the outside and be tumultuous within.

Siri Hustvedt, from The Blindfold

[lidensword]

Here's my attempt to put on paper the image I've formed of Blackpenny's two OCs (Juhasz and Helmi), from Hunter's Moond and Hidden Depths (Blackpenny's fics)

However, I wasn't sure about the length of Juhasz's facial hair. I tried two different styles but I'm still unsure about it.

[hermitletters]

I am too afraid of the sun

for

I always was the daughter of the moon

-sea

[jpitha]

Hey all,

I'm wrapping up JALF now (I'm a few posts ahead of where y'all are.) and thinking about what happens next. JALF is officially the longest thing I've ever written, and that's pretty cool!

All this is to say that I don't know what my posting schedule is going to be once JALF is done. I'll probably take time to compile and edit the manuscript and then go from there.

I've also been looking back on HD and am going to undertake a major rewrite. I don't know if I'll post the rewrite or not (let me know) but the gist is I'm probably going to pull the whole Alia Colony Ship story line from the story and replace it with more Nilan and Ta'reni. I think I had too many POVs in HD and want to cut it back to make the story clearer.

[girlpwr123]

[erevosvoid]

A burn on the tongue

Some scars on the ribs

The glass half way to the next full of liquor

The cigarette stub illuminates the dark

You count the memories that hurt and you start bleeding

You are in fear and live the nightmare

You are in pain and live in hell

A swamp of overthinking swallows you to vomit you in the void

You have a knot around your neck and a sword in you hand

Mercury is down but the clock won't stop

The time has come to reap the fruits of you labour

You serve them on the table and you stare in admiration

But the taste is horrible

Who are you gonna invite to enjoy the fruits together?

[darkcottoncandy]

Maybe some words are better when left unsaid because people can find wrong intentions even behind the truest words.

[un-poquito-de-monica]

There isn't enough alrawabi school for girls content on this app. Like, I see the pictures and the edits but I'm going to start some Diss Course.

Specifically about Rania. (My love)

Finally figured out the cut thing. tw: abuse :)

Isn't she lovely?

Anyways she's kinda relatable (I'm not a bully I promise please hear me out). So Rania is one of the popular, cool kids, she's pretty, she's in that Golden Popularity Trio, she's rebellious but never gets caught, she has AMAZING hair, the works.

But if you get far enough into the show you realise that all of that "perfection" is hiding the physical abuse she receives from her dad. And I haven't watched the show in a while, yes I did just decide to post about a show I haven't watched in ages, But I'm not really sure if Layan and Ruqayya know about it or not. Those are her bestest friends and they might be toxic to everyone else but not to her. Perhaps they help distract her from her bad home life in a way, but also it hurts my heart to think that she's dealing with all that alone with nothing but jokes and makeup to cover it and pretend like everything is ok.

Oh yea I forgot to mention she's also a silly goofy gal! She is always making jokes, and seems like the happiest most carefree person to ever exist in this stuffy private school. But of course, at least some of that has to be an act. And watching her put up an act all the time hurts my poor dear heart.

Yea. If I ever rewatch the show I might add more to this post, but that's it for now! She's very relatable to me for the above reasons and that's why she's my fav character. The end.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 23 ~ A good sign

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CWs: uhh, some more of the same from previous chapters, which isn’t much to list here. A noncon kiss, i guess. 

WC: 2965

Taglist: @dont-touch-my-soup, @kixngiggles

In which things come to a head

AN: Who's ready to move on from the bandit camp? Good news, we're getting there! And then back to our regularly scheduled recovery arc 😅

Resh 

The man called Lox came in and tied Resh'’s wrists back to the bedframe, the positioning such that it didn’t tug on his wound too much, as it would if they’d been tied above his head. The prince not prince must be coming to check on him. 

It was strange to be allowed that consideration. Tying him down fit, not causing the maximum amount of pain didn’t. Resh couldn’t decide if this Lox was the prince’s servant or if the not prince was some kind of healer looking after him. 

He didn’t fight him, either way. What was the point? 

Carr’s spirit had come to him, had held his face in her hands while he’d cried. He could still feel the imprint of her palm, the light brush of her fingers. 

But her spirit hadn’t stayed long, had evaporated into aching nothingness just like every other time, leaving him alone to face another day of torture. 

A tear tracked down his too-hot cheek as the prince not prince entered, his hands full of supplies. Lox took them from him, relieving him of his burden. He sat on the edge of Resh’s bed, right where Carr’s spirit had been… hours, days?... before. Resh wished for Carr’s spirit to return. 

Instead, the prince not prince laid the back of his hand over Resh’s forehead and clucked his tongue. “Still too hot,” he muttered. 

He dunked a cloth into the bowl of water by Resh’s prison-bed, then ripped it in two. One half went over Resh’s forehead, and the other was tucked behind his neck. The coolness of the cloth warmed quickly. The prince not prince sighed and repeated the process. 

“My name is Rowan, and I use they/them. You’re in our camp in the Seleni Wood. You were injured traveling, and I want to help you.” 

The words came out monotone, as if by rote, while they unwrapped the bandage from Resh’s chest. His brow wrinkled. Rowan? But–

Not. Prince? Resh asked. Which reality was not prince again?

They peered sharply at him, then made some complex movements with their hands. Resh blinked. Those weren’t any kind of hand signs he knew. 

He shook his head minutely. I can’t–

“He really can’t talk,” the prince not–no, Rowan–said, turning to Lox. 

Resh’s fingers curled. He could. They just couldn’t lipread. He needed his notebook, or Carr. But Carr… Not prince was the reality where Carr was dead. His chest ached in a way that reached beyond the dull, burning throb of his wounded shoulder. 

“But he responded, so that’s a good sign,” Lox said.  

Resh looked at the ceiling, allowing his eyes to unfocus and their words to blur. A good sign. A good sign would be having Carr back, alive, sitting at his bedside. A good sign would be his sister standing in the doorway. A good sign would be not having fucking rope digging into already sore wrists while a stranger poked and prodded him. 

He tensed, knowing what was coming next. The liquid that seared him from the inside out, leaving him straining against his binds. The hands, holding him down because the ropes weren’t surety enough, he guessed. The screams that wouldn’t, couldn’t escape his useless fucking throat. 

A good sign would be anything but this. 

~~~

Carr

Carr found that Lox hadn’t been joking when he’d said the expectation was for her to stick with Demex. Even for something as private as visiting the latrine. Ugh. 

They ate, then he passed her off to one of the women who accepted “temporary responsibility” for her while he went on patrol. 

So far, Carr had done laundry, helped cook for the communal meal, cleaned the cabins–although not the cabin she wanted to be in, damn it–and assisted in various other tasks while they tried to determine where she might fit within their social structure. 

It reminded her of pack life, except a lot more domestic. Perhaps this is what women would be doing in a pack while they weren’t warming beds. Carr wasn’t exactly thrilled with either definition of a woman’s duties, but at least Demex seemed content with doing nothing more than throwing his arm over her at night.  

Carr shuddered and pinned up another swathe of fabric, eyeing the door to the bandit leader’s cabin across the way. The drying line hung outside another cabin the people used as a communal warehouse, while the last cabin off to her left was used for gatherings and meals. Hanging the laundry out to dry provided an excellent line of sight should Lox decide to do anything with Resh, so she’d volunteered for the duty. It sucked, but she certainly hadn’t found another way to get close to the cabin since that first night. 

She halfway wondered if Demex had noticed her absence that night and just hadn’t said anything, because she’d not been able to pull off a repeat with him caging her in with his body. Was Resh improving? Were they going to let him outside, or keep him imprisoned in that windowless room? 

Add to that, she was getting antsy. Three days was unrealistic to expect Hallin’s guard to arrive, as that would’ve required Hallin’s Head Elder to agree to send them and then for them to get ready for travel within a matter of hours after Brant and Orla’s arrival. And that was assuming they had made good time. The girl wasn’t used to riding, so maybe they hadn’t. 

But this game she was playing with Demex felt wrong, and not just because his touch made her skin crawl. He seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. Shit, most of the people she’d met here seemed decent. That both reassured her, especially since she hadn’t seen Resh in so long, and worried her. What would Hallin’s guard do to these people?

To the woman with the baby who gathered the laundry each morning, taking it to the stream for a wash. She didn’t speak, Carr had found, instead making her wishes known through various gestures everyone here seemed to understand. 

To the man who spent every second with the animals, lavishing them with tender words and soft touches, and yet skittered away from people and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. 

To the few people who preferred not to be assigned a gender, instead going by they/them, or those who straddled some kind of line, going by he or she/they. Carr had dwelled on that one, still was actually. 

This wasn’t a bandit camp. It was a group of kindred folk living on the fringe of society, trying to survive as best they could.

Carr shook her head, reaching for another garment to hang out only to find her basket empty. She stood and wiped her damp hands on her apron, then tugged at the seams of her bodice, disliking how she could feel them digging into her skin even through the shift she wore underneath. 

It shouldn’t matter what kind of people they were. Their leader had shot Resh, taken him captive, and left her and Orla for dead. Carr’s jaw set. It didn’t. It didn’t matter. 

A flash of orange caught in her peripheral vision, and she spun, one hand going to her thigh before she could catch herself. She twisted it in her apron instead and watched as the day’s babysitter limped over to her, carrying another basket. Fucking neverending, laundry was. At least she wasn’t scrubbing it today, she supposed. 

“Last one,” Elena promised, dropping the basket with a thump at Carr’s feet. 

“Great,” Carr said with false enthusiasm. Great that it was the end, but not so great because it would also be the end of her excuse to stand here, watching over that cabin. 

Shrewd brown eyes flicked over Carr, assessing. 

A breeze stirred the laundry on the line, lending a hint of moisture to the dry, late summer air. A perk to this particular duty, Carr had to admit. Fidgeting under the woman’s gaze, she plucked at another seam, then scooted the basket with her foot to an empty section of line. Let her stare. Didn’t mean she had to look too. 

“Could use a trim, don’t ya think?” Elena mused. “And I’m thinking, perhaps the dress doesn’t suit ya. Perhaps you’d prefer trousers? Do ya bind, love?” 

The sheet Carr was trying to pin slipped, and she swiped at the air, trying to catch it before it plummeted to the dusty earth below. She barely caught it in time. Clutching the damp fabric to her chest, she fixed wide eyes on the other woman over its folds. 

“What?” 

“Yer hair, love. It’s a right mess, if ya don’t mind my saying so. Don’t worry, I’m fair good with the scissors.” Elena wiggled knobby fingers, which Carr eyed doubtfully. 

Couldn’t be worse than what I’ve done on my own, Carr thought with a scoff. “No, I mean… that other… part.” 

Why in the fuck would this woman ask if she binded? Was she failing at passing as a woman that badly? Cool dampness pricked the skin of her chest, and Carr dropped the sheet back into the basket. She stared at the large dark splotch marring the front of her dress, grinding her teeth until her jaw ached. Guess that answered that. 

“Oh, hun.” Elena moved, reaching out as if for a hug, or a pat, or some other tactile gesture Carr wanted no part of. 

She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m fine. Don’t need none of that. But… thanks.” 

The woman gave her a rueful smile. “Course ya don’t need it. But I do. Looking at what you’ve done to yer hair is painful. When yer done with those sheets, yer coming with me. And tomorrow, you’ll have the option of tunic and pants or that dress. Wear what makes yer heart happy.” 

Carr stared as the woman turned and walked away, her gait uneven. This was her first godsdamned day under Elena’s “care”, and the woman had seen right through her. What else had she seen? What was this place?

A deep-throated murmur sliced through her racing thoughts, and Carr turned back, hurriedly snatching up the fucking sheet. She peered over the top of the line as she pinned it up, watching as Lox walked down the path, an arm around the healer’s shoulders, only to disappear into the main cabin across the way. 

Her spine stiffened. She hated that she had no clue what they were doing in there. Were they still caring for Resh? Or torturing him? Would he even know the difference, in the state he had been in? If he screamed, she wouldn’t hear it. If he died, she wouldn’t know it. 

She hung the rest of the cloth in the basket with stiff, jerky movements. She had to find a way to get back in there. Today. The laundry could provide a decent excuse if she were to deliver it. She’d just wait for Lox to leave again. Hopefully, before Elena came back for her.  

The door to the cabin opened, as if in tune with her thoughts. Well, that was fast. Carr stepped behind a sheet, fiddling with the pins on the edge while she watched through the gap in the line. 

Lox emerged, shuffling out strangely. He sidled out onto the porch, then down the ramp. Someone’s arm was looped over his shoulder. She caught a glimpse of dark, curly hair before he turned and the bulk of his body blocked her view. The healer’s face appeared next, their brow furrowed. They followed Lox off the porch. 

Carr’s steps were silent as she ghosted between the swaying lines of fabric. Lox reached the bottom of the ramp and turned, pointing at something with his free hand. The man Lox supported showed no interest in whatever he was gesturing at, but Carr sucked in a breath and stopped, ignoring the laundry flapping around her while she took him in. 

His face was waxen, his hair limp and stringy. He was too thin, his stomach sunken beneath the bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulder. That couldn’t all be the result of the last few days, Carr thought, eyeing him critically. 

He barely appeared to have the strength to stand even with the larger man’s support, but he was. Resh was standing. Was outside. Was fucking alive. 

Before she was aware of what she was doing, Carr’s feet were moving. Damp fabric slapped her face and arms as she ducked and dodged and then she was out and he was there and… 

And… 

She froze just outside the final line, hands clenching into fists. 

And she couldn’t go to him. 

Her muscles trembled, her will barely holding them in check. She needed to stand before him, prove that she was real, that he didn’t need to carry those shadows in his–

Lox’s head snapped around, and she spun to adjust the… the perfectly fine shift pinned behind her. 

The feeling of eyes on her prickled down her spine, and she fought the urge to turn and challenge them. Instead, she moved behind the first line to adjust something else, angling her body to allow a side view. 

It wasn’t Lox’s eyes weighing heavy on her skin. 

It was Resh’s. 

The distance between them meant nothing. She locked gazes with him, watched the emotions flit through those dark depths. 

“Hey, looks like you’re finished. Great timing.” 

Carr jumped, turning to find Demex and his group of guards tromping down the path, fresh off their shift. Fucking early, she thought, looking up at a sun that was only half past its zenith. 

He walked up to her and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. She cringed internally but was careful to control her physical reaction. Resh’s gaze burned the side of her face as she looked up at her guard. 

“Hey. You’re back early–” She cut off when he started walking, forcing her along with him. “What–” 

“Gotta check in with Elena, then we’re going to the gathering cabin.” 

His tone was light, but his body was laden with tension. Carr craned her neck, trying not to flinch at the look in Resh’s eyes. The leader of Demex’s group approached Lox, whose face set into stoic lines as the guard gestured beyond the gate. 

She ducked out from under Demex’s arm when they emerged from the laundry. “Tell me what’s happenin’.” 

He reached out to grab her arm. “There’s no time, Arah.” 

Lips pinched together at the name she’d given him, she dodged his grip. “Make time, Demex.” His name twisted off her tongue like the knife she kinda wanted to twist in his gut for being between her and Resh right now. 

A heavy hand landed between her shoulder blades, and he guided her behind the cabin beside the drying lines. The warmth from his palm was still less than the heat of Resh’s gaze. She flicked her fingers behind her back right before they disappeared from view, hoping he caught the message and didn’t do anything stupid. If he even believed she was real, that was. 

Down by the small lake, Elena looked up and raised a hand. Demex glanced at Carr, then sent off a flurry of hand signals that were too different from the thieves cant for her to make out. Elena gave a sharp nod, abandoning her task. To do what, Carr didn’t know because Demex crowded her into the side of the cabin. 

Her hands shot up to his chest, exerting pressure to keep some fucking space between their bodies, but he just leaned in to whisper into her ear. 

“Hallin’s guard is progressing through the forest with singular purpose, straight towards this camp. A camp they shouldn’t know exists.” 

A shiver went up Carr’s spine. So soon? 

“I know you left the tent that first night. When you returned, I’d hoped it was because you decided not to run off after all.” Demex’s breath was hot as it brushed against her ear, the side of her neck. “Now I have to hope it wasn’t because you were ratting us out.” 

He pulled back, still entirely too close for her comfort, and captured her eyes in a gaze so intense it made her shudder. She dropped one of her hands from his chest. 

“I like you, Arah. And I think you fit in here.” He ducked back in, pressing his lips to hers before she could decide if she needed to dodge or not. 

She gasped, and that was all the invitation he needed, plunging his tongue into her mouth. 

It was all she could do not to throw up as it twined around hers. Her fingers dug into his waist, her wrist brushing against the handle of the blade sheathed on his belt, which he seemed to take as a positive sign. His body pressed into hers, crushing her against the wall of the cabin.

The familiar, paralyzing panic washed over her. This time, she refused to let it stop her and wrestled with it, forcing the unnatural stiffness from her limbs. Forcing her hand to move. Forcing herself to pretend. 

But while the kiss seemed to last forever, it was over before she could force herself to kiss him back. 

“Just wanted you to know,” he said, flashing her a crooked smile as he pulled back, his cheeks flushed. “Hopefully, there’s a here for you to still fit into when this is done. Now, go to the cabin. You’ll be safe there.” 

Demex loped off towards the lake and Elena, leaving a trembling Carr behind. 

She leaned bonelessly against the wall, hands behind her back, fingers caressing the hilt of a familiar blade. 

Next

[the-lights-are-loud]

The Moon

They all had examined the image on the back of the thick, hooded tunic that Del wore when she was cold or particularly stressed. The thin silver thread outlined a quiet scene. A winding and twisting tree with dainty leaves that draped over a calm pond. What they always wondered was what the strange orb that hung above the pond was. Alec’s theory was that it was a lantern.

As Del gathered her notes from their last council meeting, Konrad’s eyes were trained on her back. Alec smirked. This wasn’t the first time he had caught the young king staring at his newly appointed seer.

“Delphie?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” The forced politeness grated on Alec. She was still angry at what had happened the week prior. The irritation was masterfully hidden, but it still radiated off of her in waves that Alec easily picked up on.

“What is...” Konrad sighed and looked back down at the hardwood desk he sat at. “That image...on your...” He gestured to the item of beloved clothing.

“Yes?” Del gave him a concerned look. The fresh scar above her brow quirked up. Since receiving that injury, her expression had become more guarded around his Majesty. A well-deserved expression, in Alec’s opinion.

Konrad swallowed thickly, kingly confidence now fleeing when faced with the mistake of a night of terror. He had become a new person to her. The harsh distrust that he treated her with had melted away following the days since the attack. Alec was secretly proud of the change.

“What is the silver circle on the embroidery supposed to be? Is it a light of some sort?”

The tightness in Del’s jaw melted away, much to both Alec's and Konrad’s relief. She even smiled. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Oh. That’s...That’s the moon.” Del suddenly looked puzzled. “Right...you don’t know what that is.”

“Describe it!” Konrad quickly replied. Alec cracked a large smile at his enthusiasm.

Del sat back down and hummed thoughtfully. “Well...the moon is...maybe I should start with the sky. Your sky is dark and purple all the time. My sky changes. It’s beautiful...and violent and striking... Y’know those glowing rocks and the animals who light up the top of the cave? Well, back home, we have something similar. We call them stars. They are these massive balls of fire, millions of miles away in our sky. They sparkle and brighten the night sky. That’s the sky that is the most like yours.”

Del’s expression was excited yet wistful. Alec was enraptured by the description. Konrad, however, could only see her in each word.

“We have a big star, that’s the one that changes the sky. It’s the closest to us. When you go outside, it feels like you’re sitting by the fire. Warm and inviting. But it’s powerful too. I get burned every summer. My skin turns pink all over where it sees the sun. It’s breathtaking...”

She quieted down and blinked rapidly, almost in surprise. Her breathing was shaky and her cheeks became rosy with emotion. Alec perked up at the signs of emotional distress and was prepared to lead her out of the room if needed.

The worried expression was the first thing that Alec noticed on Konrad’s face. Then the way his hand enveloped hers.

The seer stared at the king’s large hand surrounding hers. Her watery eyes dried before she swallowed and pulled her hand away.

“R-right, the moon. So the moon is this massive stone in the sky that reflects the light of the sun.”

Alec noticed the bitter embarrassment in Konrad’s demeanor. Del looked uncomfortable and strained. Her hands quietly tucked themselves away into her pockets.

“When it is full, um, when it completely reflects the sun like a silver mirror...” Del rubbed the back of her neck before gathering up her notes once again and standing.

The tension in the room was soon directed at Alec once she left.

“Your Majesty, you’re an idiot if you don’t apologize soon.”

[little-peril-stories]

faves

I've avoided making a 'favourites' list so far because I've actually only read a pitiful amount of what's available here on Tumblr/whumpblr. So take the shortness of this list as a result of my...uh, my day job (and totes not my scattered, easily distractible brain). There's so much good stuff out there so you should absolutely look at other folks' recommendations as well!!

these are not in order of preference! it's just a list!

Hidden Depths by @starlit-hopes-and-dreams. Arc 1 is complete and Arc 2 is underway and let me tell you, I am pretty much in love with, like, all the characters. Marcus is also on my list of favourite villains ever. :) Be aware of blood, gore, heavy torture, and some sexual content (looking at you, AU).

Good Slaves Never Break the Rules by @clairelsonao3. Every chapter ends with me sending freakout messages and then writing novellas in the ao3 comments. If you love incredible pacing, compelling characters, plot twists, and CLIFFHANGERS, then please please go check this out! Be aware of some heavy themes and topics (slavery, injustice, amongst others) and some sexual content.

Nuisance by @i-can-even-burn-salad (Elli also has a BUNCH of other great stories but I picked this one because it has my fave characters in it :)))). Nuisance is also available as an ebook which is AWESOME! Merridy is my little darling and the development of her friendship with Cedric, my Actual Fave <3, is *chef's kiss*. Be aware of blood and barbed wire.

All of these have beautiful writing and compelling characters, which are A Must for me. If you think you might be interested, please enjoy. :)