#alter: evaline

[system-of-a-feather]

Is it really final fusion if there are parts that you're still keeping separate and disowning from yourself? These parts deserve to feel like they have a right to exist, that healing is possible for them and that they are not a lost cause. It isn't fair to call yourself final fused when these parts are being excluded from your recovery. Repressing trauma is not healthy and it isn't sustainable to do that forever. It would be healthy if you worked with them, held compassion for them, and helped work through their trauma beliefs with them. Sometimes to heal you need to be disregulated sometimes, because you're letting yourself finally feel the feelings, and they've been kept away for so long, naturally it will cause disfunction for a while.

Bro, you are assuming an awful lot off of an awful little combined with a lot of poor interpretations of that post. I also find it a bit rude and crossing some boundaries for you to be 1) telling me how my vulnerable parts feel 2) telling me that I dont know what >I< feel and 3) telling me how my vulnerable parts - both when they are operating seperate from me and fused with me - should be treated.

If you think you aren't doing that and are not encroaching on territory you don't know about (ie my trauma, my system, my recovery and my healing) then please, tell me the details about my vulnerable trauma holders that you seem to know more about than I do, because man, between being literally them and living 24/7 with them and talking with them for my entire life, I really thought I'd know them better than a random anonymous stranger online. Go figure. You learn new things every day.

Putting aside the honestly disrespectful breach of boundaries under the assumption its well intended, I will continue the rest of this post assuming you asked me about how the post on how we handle our vulnerable parts relate to our fusion rather than assuming and judging because I honestly think the question I am giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you MEANT is actually a really interesting one! Because it can be totally confusing how our system that does not actively engage and actively interact and actively force our trauma holders to go through trauma processing could POSSIBLY fuse with them.

(Actually I have to comment on a few points of confusion and disclaimer on this before I can fully just move onto the next topic in case there is some really strange miss understanding or reading comprehension issue that might make the interesting part of this response confusing if not addressed)

---

Confusion and Clarity Section:

To remove any potential confusion, I'd first like to state that it is "really" final fusion because they're literally me, I know what they feel, I know what they think and I know what they've been through. I can only write the post about how we used to handle things and how we operate now AND speak for those parts because I AM them like, genuinely and fully. Not even "technically them" I deadass AM them, so please don't assume I can't speak for myself and my own trauma and recovery. I know myself and my needs.

There isn't really a debate whether or not we are "finally fused" or what aspects of our life determine "final fusion" other than, you know *checks notes* the fact we literally operate like 75% or more of the time as a complete solid whole with little to no dissociation and honestly even these days, no disconnect between our identity beyond a general and standard IFS way of navigating complicated feelings.

Clearing up that odd comment on "really final fusion", I'm pretty sure you are referring to this post? And if so, I think you missed the part where we have always stated they are absolutely welcome to engage and hang out and we don't "lock them up" or repress them in any way or form.

---

Final Fusion & Our Sleepy "Dragons" / Trauma Holders

The post in reference discusses some of how a lot of our heaviest trauma holders and parts that have been extremely disconnected and dissociated from life for years actually don't regularly spend a lot of time near the front and our system / whole has STRONG rules against EVER forcing those parts to "recover" or process their trauma or "engage in the real world and life and exist" if they don't want to.

It's a concept our system didn't really understand and used to REGULARLY do the opposite of because of good intent and good will "these parts deserve to live and exist and they deserve to heal and be better and so they need to heal from their trauma or they will be forever suffering and they deserve better" and its something we spent over a year learning from one specific part in our system - a major trauma holder - that it is far far more HARMFUL than helpful and that A LOT of that good intent / good will interest in making parts heal came from a lot of 1) projection of me wanting to be perfectly healed right now and projecting that need for healing onto other parts and 2) very trauma-unresponsive, inconsiderate, and not respecting either the autonomy, individuality, or ability for those parts to speak for themselves and their own needs.

Trauma informed care, both internally or with other people, is built on a principle of respecting the traumatized individual and ACTIVELY listening to what THEY are saying and what THEY need and what THEY are experiencing. Often trying to push your ideals, your agenda, your recovery schedule and pacing and trying to push an individual to heal faster than they are ready, serves in small amounts of reinforce the idea that the traumatized individual can not make their own decisions, they do not know how they feel, they do not know whats best for them, they shouldn't have a say in how they are treated, and that they have to conform to another person's standards and heal correctly.

I would LOVE for those parts to come sit with us and talk with us for hours upon hours about trauma. I would LOVE fro them to cry and throw things and be in crisis. We actually get slightly excited whenever those parts are around and in crisis because it gives us an opportunity to support them, show them some coping skills, and help them learn that life is actually pretty okay. Some of our best and most happiest moments (on both sides) have been in those post-crisis where those parts have, for the first time in their entire life, EVER felt ANY support from ANYTHING or ANYONE and those moments are so warm, healing, and impactful on both the supporting and the supported end.

That being said, while our whole and our supporting parts would LOVE to be able to speed run those moments until those parts are completely comfortable existing immediately, that would require us to ACTIVELY make them suffer, feel pain, and relive their trauma when they otherwise would not have to.

These parts have COMMUNICATED to us, when they were more stable and when they were not, that they >do not< want to regularly be around the front and out because everything as it is is too much for them. They have actively asked us to let them rest and have extended periods of calm and peaceful sleeping when things are good so that they can have a break from chronic suffering.

Yes, if we dragged them out, made them process trauma, made them look it straight on, made them dysregulated, eventually they'll "get over it" and "get used to it", but that is only after EXCESSIVE pain as those parts are EXTREMELY prone to being thrown into deep and intense flashbacks. We COULD quickly desensitize them and get them used to life, but the quick method is honest to god cruel, inconsiderate, trauma-unresponsive, and arguably traumatizing to those parts.

Instead, we listen to what those parts have communicated and meet them where they are at in their recovery. Those parts have told us that they are in *peaceful* sleep when they are not triggered and that sleep / distance actually helps them process the sheer amount of stimuli and information that is required for them to regain some stability.

Of course, sometimes triggers come in our life that forcibly wake them up and they get thrown into flashbacks and thats okay! Not ideal, not fun, and I feel bad for them but its okay! Because while they are suffering deeply, they are also surrounded with SO many parts that are actively and intently here to support them, help them, show them the world, and help them develop an understanding for the present and coping mechanisms that are healthy.

And usually after we have helped calm them down, showed them around life and given them some time to enjoy and appreciate existence, they - in a good mood that is now regulated and calm - actively ask to go back to sleep because they are 1) tired and 2) have a lot of new things to process and anything more would be overloading.

And so we have parts - specifically Lin - who is good at holding the front and keeping them company while they fall back to sleep, much like a parent reading a kid a bed time story. It's a very healing and very helpful and trauma informed way of approaching, supporting method that respects the communication and feelings of the individual parts and minimizes the amount of unnecessary stress, triggering, and flashbacks for those parts.

And thats all when we operate as independent parts - which we mostly do when those parts need support because its easier for us to give them focused support when operating as independent parts than as a fused whole as it can be hard to utelize our coping skills as a fused whole when they're triggered. (Think of it like using IFS framework, but instead of parent part and inner child, they just have actual names)

As a whole, I don't "stop being those parts" or exclude them, I am still them and their traits are integrated into the whole. As a fused whole those parts can actually exist and engage in the world A LOT easier than as individual parts because they themselves don't have to be over active and the predominant part of the brain while the trauma they hold can really just remain sleeping in the back. As a fused whole they aren't "trauma holders that are sleeping" they are Feathers and their trauma that they held remains sleeping.

And as a fused whole, I don't think I have to be chronically experiencing and processing my trauma to be me, to be happy, or to be present. My trauma isn't my identity and I am not any less "existing" by not chronically living in my trauma.

As a fused whole I'm literally just Feathers. I got "brains" because I know where certain thoughts and feelings would have come from as individual parts, but like... I'm Feathers. I'm literally just fucking Feathers XD And I literally am those vulnerable trauma holding parts as well. And thank you for your concern, but as those vulnerable trauma holding parts, we're fine and honestly enjoying our life the way it is man.

If you are really that concerned about us, please check to make sure you aren't projecting your own struggles because if you are, please take care of your trauma holders and give them lots of love, support, patience and understanding and please don't rush them to heal faster than they need to.

(the pink is very much explicitly from an Evaline brain which is one of those heavily traumatized vulnerable parts; I am explicitly calling that part of this out because I am genuinely very fucking proud and surprised any of them actually wanted to voice anything for themselves and I am gonna reinforce that cause its awesome and I love that for them)

[dont-dove-dead-inside]

Being a system is so dumb I just looked in the mirror and got all giddy remembering I have a vagina

[leiawritesstories]

We're Really Doing This

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 28: Eloping @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: some swearing, innuendo

A/N: ✨happy birthday to me✨ here have a fun little elopement fic!! enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And do you, Aelin Galathynius, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Aelin looked at Rowan, grasping his hands. “Are we really doing this?��� she whispered, her breath hitching. 

He grinned at her, eyes bright. “We’re really doing this.” 

The officiant cleared his throat politely, and Aelin snapped her attention back to the ceremony. With a smile bright enough to shame the sun, she met Rowan’s gaze. “I do.” 

~

Three Hours Earlier

“So, to clarify, you’re actively trying to give your entire family and his entire family a massive heart attack?” 

“That’s exactly what we’re going for.” Aelin smirked at her best friend. “Are you in, maid of honor?” 

“Hell yes!” Lysandra kicked her feet giddily. “We need to go find you a dress like, now!” 

Aelin laughed. “One step at a time, Lys.” 

“Bullshit.” The brunette leapt to her feet and caught Aelin’s hand. “I wasn’t expecting this at all, since you and your mom have been planning a big-ass wedding ever since you and Ro got engaged, but you go, girlie. And if it’s your wedding day, you need a dress. Now.” 

“What if I told you I already have a dress?” Aelin and Rowan had gotten engaged just over a year ago, and Lys was right—practically since the day Aelin came home with that emerald glittering on her left hand, Evalin Ashryver had been in full event-planning mode. 

Lys stopped in her tracks. “You do not.” 

“Oh, I do.” Aelin’s grin turned wicked as she crossed the hotel room and opened the closet, revealing a garment bag that she unzipped. With a flourish, she pulled the dress out of the bag, and it unfurled in a spill of white silk. 

“Holy fuck!” Lys stared at the sleeveless sheath dress, examining its beautiful tailoring and the slit running up one seam. “Where did you get that?” 

“Ells knows people.” Aelin shrugged. Elide Lochan, another of her close friends and one of her bridesmaids, worked as a modeling agent, and she was always picking up clothes from various designers that she gave to her friends. “I had a few alterations done, and here we go.” She hung the dress up and picked up a smaller, flat box. “And I have my mom’s veil, so she can’t be too mad at me for defying tradition.” 

Lys laughed at that. “I still stand by my heart attack statement.” 

“Oh, you were a hundred percent right about that.” Aelin glanced over at her phone, where her notifications had been pinging for almost a whole minute. “Lys, what the fuck? Did you text the groupchat?” 

“Of course I did!” Lys patted Aelin’s shoulder. “Just the one with you, me, Rowan, and Lorcan.” 

“That’s marginally better.” Lorcan was Rowan’s best man, so the groupchat with just the four of them was where they handled most of the wedding details. Aelin looked at the string of texts. “Why is Lorcan asking if we have a limo?” 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” Lys beamed. “Why shouldn’t you get a limo?” 

“Because they’re tourist traps, and before you say it, hell no. We’re not getting married by Elvis.” 

Lys frowned. “What happened to your sense of adventure?” 

“Ro and I already went and applied for a marriage license at the courthouse, and we have an appointment there later today.” Aelin flicked Lys’s shoulder. “We aren’t drunk enough to get married by some middle-aged man in a shitty Elvis suit.” 

“Fair enough.” Lysandra rolled her shoulders. “All right, lady, you better have brought all of your hair and makeup stuff, because so help me gods, you’ll be the most glamorous bride in the courthouse.” 

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” Aelin grinned and opened up her makeup bag. 

~

A good two hours later, she had her makeup done and her hair resting in rollers, lips held apart as the smudge-proof scarlet lipstick dried. Lysandra made her close her eyes as she sprayed her face with setting spray, and Aelin obediently sat and waited until Lys told her she could open her eyes and stand up. She looked at herself in the mirror, and she beamed. 

“I love you, Lyssie.” 

“Love you too, Aelie.” 

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, why? We’re not in college anymore.” 

Lys snickered. “You said it first.” 

“Oh, fine.” Aelin went over to the closet, dropped her robe, and let Lysandra help her into the dress, carefully sliding up the zipper in the back. She turned slowly, admiring the way the silk flowed over the lines of her figure, molded to her body. The slit climbed up her left leg, stopping at the middle of her thigh, and the heels she’d brought paired perfectly with the sleek look of the dress. 

Behind her, Lys sniffled as she pinned the veil into Aelin’s curls. “You’re really a bride,” she murmured, and Aelin turned and flung her arms around her best friend. 

“You’re the best maid of honor,” Aelin murmured thickly. 

Lys managed a smile. “Of course I am.” She blinked back the sheen of her tears. “Let’s go get you married.” 

She and Aelin went downstairs to the hotel lobby, and a car was waiting at the curb. They climbed into the back seat and went off to the courthouse, only a short drive from the hotel. As she hopped out of the car, Aelin looked across the limestone steps, a smile unfurling across her face when she saw Rowan and Lorcan standing shoulder to shoulder at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hey there, handsome,” she hummed, touching his shoulder. 

He turned, and wonder suffused his face as he gawked at her in her wedding dress. “Holy gods, Fireheart,” he finally managed to say. “You’re so beautiful.” 

She blushed under her makeup. “Thank you, love.” She swept a long look up and down his figure, appreciating the fit of his tux. “You look stunning, too.” 

“Luckiest man in the world,” he murmured, holding out his hand. “Ready?” 

“For you? Yes.” She tucked her hand into his, and they walked up the courthouse steps together. 

They checked in at the reception desk in the lobby, and an aide led them back to a small, unassuming courtroom. It looked like an office, just with a small version of a judge’s bench in place of a desk. The placard on the desk read “Justice of the Peace,” meaning that the man behind the desk was officially authorized to perform weddings and other official duties. He greeted them and had Aelin and Rowan stand facing each other in front of the bench, with Lysandra and Lorcan a couple steps away as the witnesses. Hand in hand with Rowan, Aelin lost herself in his gaze as the officiant began the wedding ceremony. 

~

“Do you, Rowan Whitethorn, take Aelin Galathynius as your lawfully wedded wife?” 

Rowan’s eyes were soft and filled with love. “I do.” 

“And do you, Aelin Galathynius, take Rowan Whitethorn as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Aelin smiled. “I do.” 

They exchanged rings, Aelin sliding a steel-gray platinum band with an inlay of tiny rubies onto Rowan’s finger and Rowan slipping a gold band engraved with a subtle flame design onto Aelin’s finger, tucking it into place beside her engagement ring. 

“With the authority vested in me by the state of Nevada, I hereby declare you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride.” 

Rowan smoothly hooked an arm around Aelin’s waist and dipped her into a fervent kiss. 

Behind them, Lysandra whooped, applauding vividly. Lorcan joined in, whistling lowly when Rowan finally pulled away and set Aelin upright on her feet. She was smiling brighter than he’d ever seen her smile, her joy warming his heart, and his smile matched hers. 

“Hi, husband,” she whispered. 

He kissed her again. “Hi, wife.” 

Aelin raised her and Rowan’s hands into the air like a winning boxer as they walked out of the courthouse and down the steps. They climbed into the car that was waiting for them, Lys and Lorcan following, and they drove off to the hotel, where the families were gathered for what they thought was going to be an engagement party. Aelin’s mother had repeatedly questioned her daughter’s desire to hold her party in Vegas, but she begrudgingly agreed when Aelin told her that was where the bachelor and bachelorette trips were going to be. 

Lorcan and Lysandra went into the hotel event space first, giving Aelin and Rowan a few minutes to themselves. She and Lys had planned it out during the drive—the best man and maid of honor would say some words of welcome, and when Aelin and Rowan were ready, they’d walk in and be announced as Mr. and Mrs. to everyone’s shock. 

“Ready?” Rowan asked, wrapping one arm low around Aelin’s hips. 

She flicked a sultry glance up at him. “I might need a few more minutes.” Even in her heels, she still had to rise up to kiss him, and in a blur of hazy kisses, she’d tugged him into the closest coat closet. It was empty except for some hangers, since nobody was wearing a jacket in Vegas, and he backed her swiftly against the shelves, his lips attached to her neck. 

“Love you so much,” he murmured against her skin. 

She wove her fingers into his hair. “Love you more, Ro.” 

A fist thudded against the door, shattering their little bubble. “Break it up, you two,” Lorcan grumbled. “I’m not opening this door, but you might want to get your lovebird asses out here.” 

“Jackass,” Rowan muttered. 

Aelin snickered. “Thank you, Lor darling.” 

“Gods above.” Lorcan left, probably rolling his eyes. 

“We should go,” Aelin whispered, deftly tucking Rowan’s shirt back into place. 

He raised a brow. “Do we have to?” 

“I want to show you off, husband.” She kissed the corner of his jaw. “Please?” 

“Anything for you, love.” He laced his fingers with hers and led her down the hallway and through the double doors into the event space, where their family and friends were gathered. 

Lysandra leaned into the microphone in her hand as the couple walked in. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitethorn, everyone!” she whooped. 

And the crowd went wild.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[evalinkatrineberg]

Practice Prompt 2

A/N: The dialog with @idaliamoretti and @lady-indiana comes from an rp we did earlier today :)

The knock on my bedroom door made me jump. As quickly as I could, I tugged the white shirt I was holding over my head, still pulling down the hem with one hand as I made my way to the door, opening it with my other.

My father was standing in the other side of the doorway, his car keys in hand. “Proctor wants you to come in and help her out with something today.”

I frowned. I had done a research assistantship with Professor Proctor during the spring semester, after taking her course on genetics in the fall. I loved the work I had done under her, though it was mostly just looking at certain chromosomes under a microscope before and after she had altered the sequence of nucleotides, and comparing how the images varied. Either way, it had gotten my name out there as her assistant on the papers she published, which was certainly something. I definitely couldn’t be credited with most of the work or writing though.

“Why?”

My father shrugged, already walking away from the door. I tied the fabric belt of my flowy black pants in a bow, and began to follow him down the hallway. It wasn’t like Professor Proctor to spring work on me unannounced like this, especially when school wasn’t even in session anymore.

My father made his way immediately to the door when he reached the bottom of the staircase, picking up his work bag, which was already leaning against the shoe rack. He tapped his watch twice, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

“I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” I protested.

“You should’ve gotten up earlier.” My father only shrugged as I grabbed my purse from the hook next to the shoe rack.

“I woke up at the same time I always wake up.” Not a lie. My early morning routine had been the only thing that remained constant these past few weeks. Between capital officials calling or visiting in person, and family members I barely remembered trying to get in touch with me, altogether consuming my every waking moment, my life felt like it had been the unfortunate victim of a hit-and-run accident.

“Not even at the palace yet, and already developing an attitude,” my father noted, holding the door open for me. “That’s not a good sign.”

I sighed, opening the passenger side door of his car the moment two chirps confirmed it was unlocked. “Sorry, I’m just kind of confused and concerned as to why Proctor wants me to come in today.”

As he got in the car himself, he handed me his work bag and nodded, the only sign that he had even heard what I said. He was a man of few words, my father. Always blunt and to the point, he got what he needed to get done done, and didn’t waste people's time with niceties and polite chatter. That part of socializing he left to my mother. It was also probably a big part of why the officials from the palace preferred to have her around when they needed me to sign something, rather than my father.

My absolute favorite moment from the past few weeks had been the time that some official or another had called from the capital, and my father, fed up after a long day at work, had picked up the phone and just yelled, “What? What do you want?” He had then paused, as whoever was on the other line said something, and then calmly, he had said, “Oh, Evalin, it’s for you.” My mother had been absolutely mortified, and had taken the phone out of my hands to apologize profusely to the capital official on behalf of my father. I had found it hilarious, however, and had to leave the room at one point, unable to contain my laughter any longer.

“She probably just needs your help.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious, I thought. I bit my tongue, though. Fighting with my father wasn’t worth it. It never was, but especially not now that this would be our last full day together for a while.

So we continued the rest of our ride in silence. The streets were just beginning to fill with other vehicles as we hit the main roads. I kept my eyes on the cars passing by as I thought about the upcoming Selection. Today really was my last full day in Knoxville. I didn’t know whether to be sad about the fact that I kind of hoped I wouldn’t be back for a while. I would miss my family, sure, but I couldn’t deny that no matter which way the Selection went, it was going to be a life changing experience. I was going to learn and grow from it, and for once in my life, not in the traditional classroom-learning sense.

This could possibly be the last time I was setting foot on this campus, I realized, as my father parked his car. This might be the last time he drove me here, the last time we hugged in the lobby of the biology building before heading down separate hallways, the last time I had to smell the brine of the oyster labs as I passed by them on the way to Professor Proctor’s laboratory. Had I taken all these things for granted?

I swallowed once before walking into the lab, refusing to let myself dwell on all the what-ifs. I was done with what-ifs. The here and now, that was real, and that involved finding out what Proctor needed me to do for her.

My professor was standing in the corner of her laboratory, flipping through the pages of what appeared to be an old book with maroon leather covers. The book itself looked like it was shorter than most normal-sized books, but maybe that was just the angle I was looking at it at. Or maybe most of my time had been consumed by textbooks and official documents the past few months.

“Good morning, Professor,” I said by way of greeting, holding on to the door as it closed behind me to make sure it didn’t slam. “How are you?”

Professor Proctor looked up from her book, shutting it with one hand as she smiled at me. “Good morning, Miss Berg,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she pushed some gray hairs behind her ears and readjusted her glasses. She might be old, but she was no less wise than she had been when she had published the results of her first independent study when she was just twenty-two. I had been ecstatic when I learned that she would be teaching my genetics lecture last fall. I mean, this was a woman whose tenacity and intelligence had always inspired me. I had literally done projects about her in elementary and middle school.

“Or, should I say, Lady Evalin?” One corner of her lip tugged upwards.

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks as I hung my purse on the coat rack by the door. “That really isn’t necessary, Professor.” Then, turning back to face her, I added, “My father said you wanted me to come in today?”

“Yes.” She began to move towards one of the microscopes, placed on a low lying lab table towards the front of the room. She pulled out two chairs, facing them towards each other, and motioned for me to take the one opposite of her. As I complied, she explained, “I wanted to talk to you before you left.”

That was right - I hadn’t been able to see her since the announcement was made on the Report. My research period with her was over once the spring semester ended, and with all the craziness of the Selection going on, I hadn’t made time to come to campus and seek her out myself.

“Thank you, Professor, for making time for us to talk. I’m sure your schedule must be busy after the release of your latest findings.”

She smiled at my reply. “It may be, but science does not stop and wait for the media circus. There are always new discoveries to be made. The world keeps turning.”

I felt my blush deepen at her clear jab at the Selection. Oh, God, she must have been mad. Or maybe my father had paid her to give me the lecture that he couldn’t bear to give me himself.

“With that in mind,” she continued, “can I ask why on earth you decided to enter yourself in the Selection?”

Oh yes, here it was.

I decided to start with a joke, laughing nervously as I asked, “Did my father put you up to this?”

“Oh, good! He’s already given you this lecture! Now, I don’t have to!”

I sucked on a tooth. That hadn’t gone according to plan, but I decided not to correct her. Professor Proctor gave amazing lectures, but they were always long-winded and strongly worded, and I wasn’t sure I could handle one at the moment. I still hadn’t even had any coffee yet. “I understand that by participating in the Selection, I am putting my education on hold, but this could be a great opportunity. Think about it - if given a position of power and influence, I could promote the inclusion of more women in science!” It definitely wasn’t my primary reason for going, but it was better than admitting my childhood crush on Prince Arin to my professor.

She waved a hand through the air. “The Princess Safiya is already a woman in science herself. You’re more useful here, studying and publishing research to enhance our knowledge of the human genome. By throwing yourself at the shoes of some spoiled boy, you might as well be throwing all of your intelligence and hard work in the sciences into a trashcan, lighting that trashcan on fire, and then kicking it down a flight of stairs.”

I nodded ever so slightly, brows furrowing as I attempted to think of something I could even say in response to that.

The professor saved me from having to respond, though. She clucked her tongue. “None you worry, though! Your time at the palace won’t be a complete waste!”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” I replied flatly. I didn’t know why I was so irritable lately. First the almost-fight with my father, and now this. Was the stress of the competition getting to me already?

“How were you at history, Miss Berg?”

I pursed my lips, thinking back to high school, picturing the marks I had gotten on my exams. “It was my best subject out of the humanities and social sciences. I think a lot of my success had to do with my memorization skills.”

“Good.” Professor Proctor nodded, leaning back in her chair. “So you are aware, then, that Illea did not always exist as a country. Not as it does now, at least.”

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly. Where was she going with this?

“So, then, the Illean caste system, as it exists currently, could not have always existed, right?”

Alarm bells were ringing in my mind. “Yes, but -”

She cut me off. “Tell me, Miss Berg, have you ever dreamed about pursuing another career? Something besides biology?”

Wasn’t that what I was doing by participating in the Selection? Wasn’t that we she was just about to lecture me about before?

I studied the woman across from me. How could she sit there, so relaxed, not a tense muscle in her body, and talk about such things? She was like a spider with a fly already trapped in its web - all she had to do was watch. She had the power to strike at any moment.

“I used to dream of being a ballerina,” I admitted, “but I was four years old, and they were just that - dreams!”

“But what if there was a world where your dream could become a reality?”

“Well, that would require for me to have advanced physical coordination skills, which I don’t,” I stated, staring at her point-blank, my face relaxed. “That fact has nothing to do with the history of Illea.”

A casteless society. Was my professor really hinting at a casteless society? It was downright treasonous of her to be doing so, and bold of her to speak so freely of these things in front of somebody who would be inside the palace tomorrow.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Professor Proctor reprimanded, waving a hand through the air again. “The point I’m getting to, though, is that I have a proposition for you.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, letting out a scoffing laugh. “Okay, what is it?”

“I need you to write me letters while you’re at the palace.”

I frowned. “That’s it?” I had already been planning on writing my family and June, and maybe even Lukas, though I doubted he’d want to hear about the drama that was bound to ensue. I supposed I could add Professor Proctor to the list as well, though I found it highly unlikely that she would want to hear about the drama either.

“Yes, but not just any letters.” Here it was. Here came the catch. “I need you to get information about the plans the government have against the rebels and the abolitionists.”

“No.” The word came out of my mouth before I could even think, before I could even fully consider her proposal to me. “I won’t do it.”

She sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that. I’d hate to have to do this Miss Berg, but if you don’t send me those letters, I will make sure you never work in the field of biology again.” Her eyes narrowed as mine went wide. “If you want a research assistantship after your time gallivanting at the palace is over? You won’t get one from me, or any of my colleagues. You want to get into graduate school when this is all finished? Good luck doing it when no accredited institution worth a grain of salt will accept you.”

I shook my head, standing up and pushing my chair back under the lab table. “Treason, and blackmail,” I hissed, my voice wavering slightly, in spite of my desire for it not to. “I don’t care if you never let me work with you again. I don’t want to.”

“Think carefully on my offer, Miss Berg,” she instructed, not even moving as I made my way across the room to grab my purse. “I won’t hold this little outburst against you.”

I stopped in front of the door, my hand hovering over the doorknob as I looked over my shoulder at her, the woman I had spent most of my life aspiring to be, one last time. “You disgust me.” I shook my head again. “I’ve lost all respect for you.”

I opened the door, flinging it wide as I began to walk down the hallway.

She called after me. “What do you think your father has in your attic, Evalin?”

The door slammed, cutting off anything else she might say. I hurried past the oyster labs and up the stairs, blinking away tears as I made my way into the main hallway. Was I crying? God, I needed to get myself together.

I ducked into the ladies room on my left, right before I entered the main atrium, and threw my stuff down on the sink counter. After splashing some cold water on my face, I considered my possible next steps. My mother was at work, so I couldn’t ask her to come get me, and my father was up in his lab, which meant his phone was in his locker, and he wouldn’t be able to check it until the end of his workday. That left one person with a car that I could call.

June picked up on the second ring. “Hello, Evalin!”

“Hey, June.” I reflexively put my hand up to my free ear, covering it, even though the bathroom was silent. “What are you up to right now?”

“Running errands,” she replied. Indeed, if I listened closely, it did sound like she was in her car, not on a crowded street, but still definitely driving.

“Could you possibly come get me along the way?”

She cut me off before I could even tell her where I was. “I wish I could, Ev, but I’m on a bit of a time crunch!”

I heard someone mumble in the background - a distinctly male voice, and familiar at that. Was that Lukas? I blanched, putting two and two together. Oh my God, were they hooking up in June’s car? Was everyone I knew breaking a law today?

“No worries,” I assured her, my voice breathless and a little shaky. “I’ll find another way home.”

“Okay.” She paused. “Is everything okay?”

No.

“Yes!” I did my best to sound bright and chipper, but I didn’t think for one second that June was fooled. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, I hung up. It looked like I was stuck here, and at the very least, I was not going to spend the rest of my day in the bathroom. So I picked up my purse, and made my way to the dining hall, purchased a cup of coffee, and carried it back to the biology building, where I spent a few hours playing solitaire. Anything to talk my mind off what Professor Proctor had told me.

It occurred to me that I didn’t have to give her the time to blackmail me. I could report her for conspiring with the rebels right now, and have her arrested. The only issue was, I had no proof. It was her word against mine, and I wasn’t naive enough to think that anyone would believe me over a world renowned researcher and scientist.

My phone was on it’s last two percent when my father finally emerged from the hallway. He frowned as his eyes darted from me to the three empty coffee cups that were now stacked behind me. Hey, walking to the dining hall was exercise, right?

“Done so soon?” His tone was skeptical, and he narrowed his eyes at me.

“Yeah, she got a call from a publisher of one science magazine or another, asking her if they could interview her about her latest study.” I shrugged nonchalantly. It was a good thing that I had had the better part of a day to come up with a believable lie. “How was your day?”

“Less hectic than I thought it would be.”

I stood up then, following him out the door and through the parking lot, to his car. He was silent up until we were in his car, when he asked, “Was it good to see her before you leave?”

“Yeah,” I lied, leaving it at that. Luckily, my father didn’t press me for more details. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel at every stoplight, humming along to an old song playing on the radio. No matter how much any of us protested, he refused to change the station in his car to anything other than “Classic Hits of the early 2000s.” He was insistent that it was the only music that would ever play in his car. If we wanted our own music, we were to bring something else to listen to. Too bad my phone was dead.

My father pulled into our driveway at a snail’s pace, each motion he made deliberate yet relaxed. He turned the keys, shutting the car off, still humming to that stupid song that played at least twice every time I rode with him to work - once in the morning, once in the evening.

I was over it. I wanted nothing more than to eat dinner, shower, and curl up in my bed. I was all but packed, seeing as we didn’t need to bring many personal items with us, since our wardrobe and essentials would be provided for us at the palace. All I needed to do was get through the rest of today, and then tomorrow, I would be on a plane, and with any luck, I would never have to see Professor Proctor ever again.

My father practically raced to the door. I trailed behind him, narrowing my eyes at him as he watched me slowly trudge up the porch steps, his gaze expectant. He waited until I was right behind him before he slowly began to open the door, which creaked slowly on its hinges. From what I could see, the inside of our house was dark, which was odd, considering my mother’s car was definitely in the driveway.

Once his hand was inside, my father flung the door open the rest of the way, and I stepped inside, blinking twice as the lights flashed on around me, and a wall of people jumped into my line of sight. The word, “Surprise!” was yelled in various pitches and intonations, jarring me almost as much as the sudden change in brightness did. I dropped my purse as I took in the sight in front of me. My entire family - my father’s parents included - along with June and Lukas stood in the living room, partially obscured by the staircase, wearing party hats and holding noise makers. Above the couch was a banner that read, “We’ll Miss You, Evalin!” in big red block letters.

I forced myself to smile, and then I forced myself to hug everyone, and act like this was the best present I had ever received. “I knew you’d love it,” Lydia squealed. “A going away surprise party just seemed perfect!” When our brothers were out of an earshot, she whispered, “I released the ants, too!”

I was quite sure an ant infestation was the last thing I needed at this point in time, but I assured her that it was the highlight of my day, which was the truth, though the bar was quite low. After her, it was my grandparents, who were so pleased with how much my Swendish had improved since I had last seen them around Christmas time. I informed them that I had been furthering my study of the language in order to help me stand out during the Selection, and they beamed.

The rest of the night was much the same. It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that our company started trickling out. First it was June, lazily waving goodnight as she made her way to her own home nextdoor. Then it was my brothers and Lydia, whose departures were punctured with screaming and laughter as all four made it to their rooms, finally. Then my father decided it was high time to drive his parents back to the hotel they were staying in, though they promised they would see me again at the official send off ceremony the next day. My mother drifted off upstairs, saying she needed to deal with whatever mess had been made. I didn’t want to imagine what her face would look like when she found out her daughters had collected and released ants into her sons’ room.

That left just me and Lukas, seated on the couch downstairs, me with a glass of water, and him with an untouched slice of cake.

Now was as good a time as any, I decided. Today could not possibly get any worse.

“I heard you in the car with June, today.”

Color rushed to his cheeks as he placed his plate on the coffee table. “I went with her to pick up your grandparents from the hotel.” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he added, “She asked me to come with her since I know a little Swendish.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes right back at me. “You sounded kind of upset on the phone. What happened?”

I just shook my head. “You would not believe the conversation I had with Professor Proctor today.”

“Oh, good.” His eyes lit up, his lips starting to tug upwards in a smile, and his speech animated. “She filled you in on everything, then? It’s great that you’re continuing to work with her.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I never said that.”

His face went pale at that, and he leaned forward, towards me. “What do you mean?”

“I told her no, Lukas.” It was an effort not to ball my hands into fists in my lap. “You’re working with her?”

He shook his head, and then ran his hand through his hair. “Evalin, why -”

It was all the answer I needed.

“Get out of my house.” I stood, pointing towards the front door. “Now.”

Reluctantly, he got to his feet. “Evalin, listen, you’re being irrational. Can’t you see -”

“Don’t you dare try to call me irrational when you’re the ones committing treason,” I hissed, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the door. “Get out of my house, and don’t you ever come back.”

My teeth were clenched as I opened the door, practically shoving him into the night air. As he stumbled out onto the porch, my father rounded the corner of our driveway in his car, his headlights like a beacon in the night.

“Evalin,” Lukas tried again.

I’d had enough. I pushed him towards the porch steps as hard as I could. He stumbled back a foot as I reiterated, “I said leave!”

Finally, he took the hint, and began walking across the lawn, turning right when he hit the street. To my left, my father stepped out of his car, locking it as he came to stand beside me on the porch. “I never liked him,” was all he said as he turned around, opening the front door and holding it for me.

It was a sleepless night after that. Between the fight with Proctor, and then the fight with Lukas, I had a lot to think about. My brain wouldn’t shut off, no matter how much I tried to drown out the sound of my thoughts with the sounds of the crickets outside. By the time light started filtering through the window again, I had managed to sleep for maybe half an hour, if that.

There was not enough coffee in the world to get me through this day. The morning was a blur of my mother fixing my hair and applying makeup to my face, Lydia zipping up the dress the capital officials had instructed me to wear, and my father, handing me cup after cup of coffee until I couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes without having to use the restroom. After that, we were out the door, and off to the town square, where the mayor was waiting on a stage in front of a crowd of people.

I had to give the crowd credit - some of the signs were kind of creative. Even June was there, holding one that read, “Evalin? More like Eva-WIN!” I cracked a smile at that, but it faded as I thought back to the night before. I wasn’t going to get the chance to tell her about Lukas. Shit.

Speak of the devil. There he was, dressed in a button up shirt and dress slacks, standing at the side of none other than Professor Proctor herself. A bold move, on their part. I refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing that I had seen them. Instead, I adopted the broadest smile I could manage, and plastered it on my face as the mayor droned on about my merits as a candidate for the princes heart, and what a great service I was doing for my province.

Once he had wrapped up, it was time to say goodbye to my family. My brothers were first, practically crushing me with the combined force of their hugs, and assuring me that they would get payback for the ants. I only laughed, challenging that I would love to see how they planned to do that from the other side of the country.

Then it was my grandparents, who gave me quick well-wishes in Swendish, before stepping aside to let Lydia through. Lydia gave me a quick hug, both her and my mother offering words of encouragement.

The last one left was my father. Steeling myself for what I knew I had to do, I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing my eyes as I inhaled the scent of coffee and hazelnut for one last time. Then, discreetly, I raised my head a bit, and whispered into his ear, “Proctor knows what’s in the attic, and I think I made her very angry yesterday.”

My father, to his credit, didn’t so much as flinch at the news. His face remained stoic, though he did offer me a nearly imperceptible nod, the only sign that he had heard what I said.

With that done, I was ushered into a limo, where I sat for the next two hours, until it arrived at the airport. I had wanted to sleep in the limo, but the caffeine in my system had left me too jittery and alert to do so. Maybe that was for the better, though. I didn’t want to accidentally fall asleep on the plane, in front of the other Selected girls.

One of them was already on the plane when I boarded. I ran through my memory, trying desperately to place her face to one of the names I had memorized. No luck. I was drawing a blank.

I offered her a smile as I made my way down the aisle. “Hi, I’m Evalin!”

She matched my smile with one of her own. “Hi Evalin! I’m Indie!”

Indie. Indiana? The film director from Clermont? I struggled to remember what else Lydia had told me about her, but it wasn’t coming through. God, I was so tired.

I took a seat across the aisle from her, keeping my smile in place. “It’s nice to meet you! You’re from Clermont, right?”

“Yes, I am! And you’re from -” she paused, smiling sheepishly, “-remind me again?”

“Carolina.” I smoothed out my skirt. At least I wasn’t alone in the not-remembering-information boat at the moment. “You’re a movie director, right?”

Her smile was nothing but kind as she replied. “I am. What is your profession?”

I inhaled slightly before answering. “I’m still in college, but I’m studying biology.”

For now.

“Oh wow, that’s really cool. I could never do science.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a slightly nervous laugh. “It’s second nature for me, really. I grew up around it. I think it’s really cool, what you do, though! I’ve never had that kind of artistic vision!”

“Aw, thank you. It’s the only thing I could ever do, and I’m glad. I truly love it. The profession saved me, in a way.”

“That’s amazing!” I couldn’t help but smile at that. Indie and I weren’t so different when it came down to it. What she felt for directing was exactly what I had felt, still felt, for biology. “That kind of passion is very admirable!”

Once again, she matched my smile. “We are still waiting on two more, right? The plane is supposed to leave soon.”

“I think so.” I frowned, looking over my shoulder, out the window. Missing the plane would set a sour tone for the rest of the Selection, that was for sure. As I craned my neck, trying to get a better view, I caught side of a girl with dark hair was walking through the parking lot. “Looks like one is coming now!”

Sure enough, as soon as the words popped out of my mouth, one girl boarded the plane, followed by a second girl, who already had headphones in. The first girl popped into the plane like a ball of pure sunshine, looking over her shoulder at the plane staircase. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, breathlessly, “My parents kept saying goodbye!” She turned back to us then, her eyes flickering over each of our faces in turn. “Idalia Moretti,” she said by way of introduction, plopping down in an empty seat to my right.

The fourth girl took up a seat towards the front of the plane, not so much as glancing back at us. Instead, she turned to face the window, keeping her headphones in.

“What about you guys?” Idalia’s voice drew my attention back towards my right side.

I offered her the same smile I had given Indie earlier. “Evalin Berg. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Oh,” Indie began, grinning like mad at Idalia. I had to admit, the girl’s energy was infectious, and she was practically bursting at the seams with it. “Hi, I’m Indie! Are you guys excited?”

With everyone on board, the plane began to take off. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be to say my goodbyes to Carolina, though I did still have my worries. Would Proctor report my father, out of spite for me? Would Lukas? What was even in my attic that was so illicit? It’s not like my father could just sneak up there willy-nilly. The attic door was a drop-down from the ceiling on the second floor, kind of like a reverse trap door, with a ladder that unfolded out once the door was open. The hinges were so rusted and creaky that half the neighborhood would know that someone was going into our attic before they ever set foot in it.

I turned my attention back to the matter at hand. “Very,” I answered. “A little nervous, too, though. What about you?”

“It should be an interesting day,” Idalia offered. “Tomorrow is when I’ll be nervous. Or, I guess whenever we meet the prince.”

“I’m definitely a little of both excited and nervous,” Indie agreed. “But you’re right. Tomorrow is when things get really real.”

They were right. I needed to focus. “True. Today is just makeovers and getting settled in, right?” I winced at my own unawareness of what I had gotten myself into. I cursed the stupid fights keeping me awake all damn night, and for making me forget what I really needed to do. “Sorry, this whole thing has been a bit of a whirlwind. It’s kind of hard to keep track of all the details.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Indie answered. “I’m sure there will be people telling us what to do, and where to go. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“It’s kind of weird, being thrown into the spotlight like this! Do any of you know any of the other girls? I’ve only gotten tidbits of information that my sister has dug up.” A half lie. Lydia had dug up a good deal of information, I just couldn’t recall any of it.

“I know one of the girls,” Indie admitted. “Emily. She’s acted in a few of my movies. I know some of the other actors just from industry talk, and stuff.”

“Yeah!” Idalia took over the conversation. “I just know the details because I have a friend obsessed with this stuff. She sent me a PowerPoint of, ‘The Most Important Things to Know,’ on everything and everyone.”

Indie’s eyes went wide and her smile grew. “A PowerPoint? That’s iconic!”

“Oh wow!” I laughed, but it came out a good deal more nervous than I had intended it to. “Dare I ask what it said about us?”

“Oh, Evalin,” Indie reprimanded with a shake of her head, “never read the reviews.”

I blushed, but Idalia only smiled as she forged onwards. “She is iconic like that! She liked your last movie, by the way. It was in her PowerPoint.”

“Oh, really? That’s sweet!”

So much for not reading the reviews.

A joke. I should crack a joke. “Ah, sorry! I’m used to my work being peer reviewed.”

I was the only one who laughed at my joke. I should not have cracked a joke.

As if it took her a second to catch on, Idalia let out a small chuckle. “I’m pretty sure your slide just said, ‘bio smart but I have no idea what any of her work says.’”

“Ah,” I replied, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks once again. I should have seen that one coming from a mile away. “I haven’t really done anything of note. I held a research position under my genetics professor last semester, but it was mostly just me using a microscope.” It felt weird to talk about it now, after everything that had happened yesterday. I could only imagine these girls’ reactions if I had told them the full story.

“That sounds way more intelligent than anything I’ve done, so,” Indie trailed off for a second. “Kudos to you.”

I let out another nervous laugh, fidgeting with my hands in my lap. Time to change the subject. “What movies have you directed?”

Indie seemed to consider it for a moment, as if she had to pick between a large sum of movies when saying her next sentence. “A few,” she settled on, finally. “Some of them you might know are Lady Bird and Little Women. I’ve also done The Greatest Showman, but I also direct episodes of TV sometimes.”

“Oh, I loved Little Women,” I gushed immediately. “That and Pride and Prejudice are the two movies my sister insists we watch whenever we have a family movie night!”

She grinned at that. “Pride and Prejudice is amazing. I’m glad my movie sings along beside it at your family movie nights.”

“Funny,” Idalia interjected, smirking. “My house is usually filled with suggestions of Megamind on family night.”

“Hey, I mean, Megamind,” Indie trailed off again, clearly searching for the words in her head. “Important stuff!”

Interesting. That movie definitely sounded like something Randall would request. That, combined with her big personality, was making me wonder if Idalia and I had more in common than I had initially assumed.  “Do you have a lot of siblings, too?”

“No, actually,” Indie answered first, “I don’t have any siblings. You?”

Idalia had an amused smile on her face as she admitted, “I only have a younger brother, but Megamind is usually not his idea.”

“Like I said, Megamind - important stuff,” Indie reiterated.

“Megamind is a classic,” I decided out loud, though I had never seen the movie before. “I have three brothers, and a sister.”

“A big family,” Indie observed. “That must be nice.”

“It is,” I admitted, thinking back to our goodbyes a few hours earlier, “for the most part, but we can get a little antsy. There’s plenty of teasing and pranks to go around! Having time to yourself must be nice, though!”

Idalia nodded knowingly. “I probably tease my brother more than he teases me.”

“Having time to myself can be nice,” Indie agreed, “but at least I get to live vicariously through my characters.” After a brief pause, she picked up the conversation again. “Oh, hey! Idalia, we never asked you what your profession was. You seem like a prankster. It has to be something interesting.”

I wasn’t the only one who got that vibe from Idalia then. The brunette leaned back in her seat, cracking a smile as she responded, “Interesting assumption. I fence sabre.”

My eyes immediately lit up. So that was where I knew her from! “Oh, wow, that’s awesome! I thought your name sounded kind of familiar! You fenced in the Olympics, right? My youngest brother had the games on all day, every day when they were being broadcasted!”

She brightened as well, her smile broadening. “I did. I’m going again next year. Or at least that’s the plan.”

“Ah, congratulations!” Thinking about all of her words had me biting my lip. “Are you nervous about the possibility of this Selection taking over a year? I know the officials said it shouldn’t, since it should display the prince’s decisiveness, but” I sighed, “I have to wonder how into the Selection he’s going to be, what with his engagement to Evie Waldia being cut off so recently.”

It was a fact Gabriel had been bringing up since the beginning. This wasn’t a quest for love, according to him, but a quest for the royal rebound. His argument only got worse once he realized how similar my name was to Evie’s. From that point onwards, he refused to address me as anything other than, “Evie 2.0,” much to my annoyance. I was my own person, not a new Evie, and not a rebound. My brother, of all people, should know that.

Idalia turned her head towards the ceiling. “Time will tell, but I doubt they will say I can’t go. Illea, like everyone else, sends people that can win. If I’m still one of the candidates when the time comes, it would be foolish of them to deny my participation.”

“That’s true,” I conceded. “It must be so cool, being able to compete for your country like that!”

“That really is cool, Idalia,” Indie echoed. “I’m sure you’ll get to go. It’s probably even better press for Illea if they send a Selected.”

I was inclined to agree. “That’s a good point! You’d get to be serving the nation in two ways at once!”

“I guess that could be said,” Idalia conceded, chuckling. “So we’ve got a film director, a bio major, a fencer, and,” she paused, looking at the fourth girl, who had shown no inclination to join in the conversation, “an unknown.”

“Should,” Indie bit her lip, and I tried to remember who the fourth girl on this plane should be. “Should we try to talk to her, or…” She trailed off again, not taking her eyes off the girl.

It hit me then. Shala Lie of Dominica.

“Shala?” I asked. No reply. I frowned and lowered my voice to a whisper, having the vague sense that Shala might still be listening in on our conversation. “Maybe she’s just very nervous.”

“Yeah, probably.” Indie shrugged. “Well, anyway, you girls seem really nice. It’s definitely made me feel a lot better about this whole process.”

“Likewise,” I replied. I had to admit, my smile was less forced this time. “It’s good to know that we’re not in this alone.”

Idalia took control of the conversation again. “I’m sure Prince Arin must be having a similar feeling.”

“Speaking of Prince Arin,” Indie began with a grin, “thoughts?”

I couldn’t help but blush at the thought of the prince. I kind of hated it. What was I, twelve years old? Nonetheless, I had to field my question. “Well, he is quite handsome, don’t you think?”

“He is quite handsome,” Indie echoed. “I’m excited to get to know him. Or, at least I hope I get the chance to know him.”

“Me too. I’d love to be able to talk to him and get to know him.” Admitting this to these girls, these almost strangers, was somehow less embarrassing than admitting it to anyone at home had been. “I’m sure he has lots of interesting stories to tell.”

“Yeah, probably. It’s just crazy that we are going to be living in the palace, of all places,” Indie gushed. “Hanging out with the prince, of all people. It feels like a fever dream!”

“Truly!” I had been saying as much since the letter first came in the mail. “I never imagined that this is where my life would actually take me!” The faint popping in my ears was my first clue, but a quick look out the window only confirmed my suspicions. “It looks like we’re about to land!”

“Yep.” Indie nodded in agreement. “We should keep in touch down there. I think it’ll be nice to have some friendly faces around.”

My smile was my main reply; my words were secondary. “Certainly!”

“I wonder if we’ll be near each other, room-wise,” Idalia chimed in.

Finally, something I could actually remember. “What rooms are you in? I’m in room eighteen.”

“Oh, uh, you know, we might be close to each other. Hold on.” Idalia paused, pulling a piece of paper out of her back pocket. She skimmed it for moment before finishing with, “Yeah, sixteen.” Her brows furrowed, then, as she looked over what I could only imagine must be a map. “Okay, so we’re in the same hall, but you’re right outside the circle of rooms around mine. Not the closest, but still same hall.”

I looked over her shoulder, taking it was was indeed a map, for myself. “Yeah, it looks like we’re diagonally across the from each other.” I smiled at Idalia, then. This could be good. “We should definitely be seeing each other around, then!”

“I’m in room six,” Indie announced, “but we will still see each other around!”

“I’ve heard there’s a woman’s room, and also etiquette lessons,” Idalia admitted.

“True.” My grin was one hundred percent genuine this time. “I’m kind of excited for the etiquette lessons. It’ll be nice to learn something different, for a change.”

“Oh, it’ll be something for sure,” Idalia agreed with an amused grin. “How to be photographed, how to curtsy, maybe which spoon is for the salad as well!”

I laughed at the joke. “I wonder if they’ll make us learn how to walk with books balanced on our heads.”

It was Indie’s turn to laugh now. “That would be funny to see,” she admitted, “but, trust me, that’s not the hard stuff. It’s the learning to talk to the press that’s hard.”

That was where the conversation ended, as the plane touched down and we were escorted down a carpet, through a large crowd of people, and into a limousine. It was silent at that point, and for that I was kind of grateful. I was out of Carolina. I was here, in the capital, possibly about to meet the love of my life, and at that moment, that was all that mattered.

[james-roha]

"...networks of stationary deepwells infuse a nutrient mix with water and disperse the new atmosphere—creating life-ready climates.... Once the atmosphere is ready, ATMO walkers traverse the landscape, altering and cultivating keystone paths through the environment..." - Evaline #fifthgenesis https://www.instagram.com/p/CERsxutpJQw/?igshid=104qnxt7j8cc6

[bewitchingbooktours]

A Bewitching Wednesday Author Interview - Spawn of the Cataclysm by Robert Hoppensteadt #authorinterview https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/2020/05/author-interview-spawn-of-cataclysm-by.html Huntress Rising (Angel of Death, Book 1) by Lee Roland @LeeRolandM @RoxanneRhoads #bookreview #urbanfantasy https://eclecticreview.com/2020/05/13/huntress-rising-by-lee-roland/ Virtual Book Tour: A Broken Man by Trevor Stewart http://mommasaystoreadornottoread.blogspot.com/2020/05/virtual-book-tour-broken-man-by-trevor.html Book Spotlight & #Giveaway ~ Stalking the Moon (Wyrdwood Welcome, Book One) by Angel Leigh McCoy ~ Supernatural Suspense ~ @wyrdwood2 https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/2020/05/book-spotlight-giveaway-stalking-moon.html Celebrate the Release of Altered Helix by Stephanie Hansen Wednesday, May 20, 2020 at 10 AM – 12 PM EST https://www.facebook.com/events/875411539623324/ Celebrate the Release of Fast Beat by Wren Valentino Friday June 12, 2020 1pm- 3pm EST https://www.facebook.com/events/690115745162497/ Character Interview with Evaline from Bloodlines by M.L.Mastran #paranormalthriller https://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com/2020/05/character-interview-with-evaline-from.html

[thebookrat]

I heard you guys: I don't highlight contemporary books enough. I tried to give you PLENTY of them this go 'round (and of course, some v. excellent fantasy), but there were so many book deals available, I might have to do a part 2 update mid-week! Check out all of the many, many excellent books to load up your ereaders with, all for super cheap, I don't think anything went over 2 bucks this time! -- and many are FREE FREE FREE!) So when you're done drinking your Cinco de Mayo margarita's and ready to do some drunken online self-indulgence, why not save a few $$ and load up on some deals instead? ;)

ALL BOOK COVERS ARE CLICKABLE AND TAKE YOU DIRECTLY TO THE DEAL!

I mean, COME ON.

Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court--but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people. Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms--and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future--and the future of a world cleaved in two. With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.

Sixteen-year-old Beckan and her friends are the only fairies brave enough to stay in Ferrum when war breaks out. Now there is tension between the immortal fairies, the subterranean gnomes, and the mysterious tightropers who arrived to liberate the fairies. But when Beckan's clan is forced to venture into the gnome underworld to survive, they find themselves tentatively forming unlikely friendships and making sacrifices they couldn't have imagined. As danger mounts, Beckan finds herself caught between her loyalty to her friends, her desire for peace, and a love she never expected. This stunning, lyrical fantasy is a powerful exploration of what makes a family, what justifies a war, and what it means to truly love.

An epic fantasy filled with adventure, intrigue, and romance from Incarnate series author Jodi Meadows. This duology is perfect for fans of Graceling by Kristin Cashore, The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson, and Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo. When Princess Wilhelmina was a child, the Indigo Kingdom invaded her homeland. Ten years later, Wil and the other noble children who escaped are ready to fight back and reclaim Wil’s throne. To do so, Wil and her best friend, Melanie, infiltrate the Indigo Kingdom palace with hopes of gathering information that will help them succeed. But Wil has a secret—one that could change everything. Although magic has been illegal for a century, she knows her ability could help her save her kingdom. But magic creates wraith, and the deadly stuff is moving closer and destroying the land. And if the vigilante Black Knife catches her using magic, she may disappear like all the others. . . .

In Ink and Bone, bestselling author Rachel Caine introduced a world where knowledge is power, and power corrupts absolutely. Now she continues the story of those who dare to defy the Great Library—and rewrite history... Jess Brightwell has survived his introduction to the sinister, seductive world of the Library, but serving in its army is nothing like he envisioned. His life and the lives of those he cares for have been altered forever. Embarking on a mission to save one of their own, Jess and his band of allies make one wrong move and suddenly find themselves hunted by the Library’s deadly automata and forced to flee Alexandria, all the way to London. But Jess’s home isn’t safe anymore. The Welsh army is coming, London is burning, and soon Jess must choose between his friends, his family, and the Library, which is willing to sacrifice anything and anyone in the search for ultimate control...

Get it. Get this whole damn series. Trust me.

Held captive in the barbarian kingdom of Venda, Lia and Rafe have little chance of escape . . . and even less of being together. Desperate to save her life, Lia's erstwhile assassin, Kaden, has told the Vendan Komisar that she has a magical gift, and the Komisar's interest in Lia is greater than either Kaden or Lia foresaw. Meanwhile, the foundations of Lia's deeply-held beliefs are crumbling beneath her. Nothing is straightforward: there's Rafe, who lied to her, but has sacrificed his freedom to protect her; Kaden, who meant to assassinate her but has now saved her life; and the Vendans, whom she always believed to be barbarians but whom she now realizes are people who have been terribly brutalized by the kingdoms of Dalbreck and Morrighan. Wrestling with her upbringing, her gift, and her very sense of self, Lia will have to make powerful choices that affect her country, her people . . . and her own destiny.

Lia has survived Venda—but so has a great evil bent on the destruction of Morrighan. And only Lia can stop it. With war on the horizon, Lia has no choice but to assume her role as First Daughter, as soldier—as leader. While she struggles to reach Morrighan and warn them, she finds herself at cross-purposes with Rafe and suspicious of Kaden, who has hunted her down. In this heart-stopping conclusion to the Remnant Chronicles trilogy that started with The Kiss of Deception and The Heart of Betrayal, traitors must be rooted out, sacrifices must be made, and impossible odds must be overcome as the future of every kingdom hangs in the balance. New York Times-bestselling author Mary E. Pearson's combination of intrigue, suspense, romance, and action makes this a riveting YA page-turner for teens.

This morning, Kady thought breaking up with Ezra was the hardest thing she’d have to do. This afternoon, her planet was invaded. The year is 2575, and two rival megacorporations are at war over a planet that’s little more than a speck at the edge of the universe. Now with enemy fire raining down on them, Kady and Ezra—who are barely even talking to each other—are forced to evacuate with a hostile warship in hot pursuit. But their problems are just getting started. A plague has broken out and is mutating with terrifying results; the fleet’s AI may actually be their enemy; and nobody in charge will say what’s really going on. As Kady hacks into a web of data to find the truth, it’s clear the only person who can help her is the ex-boyfriend she swore she’d never speak to again. Told through a fascinating dossier of hacked documents—including emails, maps, files, IMs, medical reports, interviews, and more—Illuminae is the first book in a heart-stopping trilogy about lives interrupted, the price of truth, and the courage of everyday heroes.

Evaline Stoker and Mina Holmes never meant to get into the family business. But when you're the sister of Bram and the niece of Sherlock, vampire hunting and mystery solving are in your blood. And when two society girls go missing, there's no one more qualified to investigate. Now fierce Evaline and logical Mina must resolve their rivalry, navigate the advances of not just one but three mysterious gentlemen, and solve murder with only one clue: a strange Egyptian scarab. The stakes are high. If Stoker and Holmes don't unravel why the belles of London society are in such danger, they'll become the next victims.

For the free, my darlings. For the FREE.

WINNER of the NATIONAL READERS CHOICE AWARD for best YA of 2015 Alexis Wyndham is the other type of Queen B—the Queen B*tch. After years of being the subject of ridicule, she revels in her ability to make the in-crowd cower via the exposés on her blog, The Eastline Spy. Now that she's carved out her place in the high school hierarchy, she uses her position to help the unpopular kids walking the hallways. Saving a freshman from bullies? Check. Swapping insults with the head cheerleader? Check. Falling for the star quarterback? So not a part of her plan. But when Brett offers to help her solve the mystery of who’s posting X-rated videos from the girls’ locker room, she’ll have to swallow her pride and learn to see past the high school stereotypes she’s never questioned—until now.

Rachel can't believe she has to give up her Saturdays to scrubbing other people's toilets. So. Gross. But she kinda, sorta stole $287.22 from her college fund that she's got to pay back ASAP or her mom will ground her for life. Which is even worse than working for her mother's new cleaning business. Maybe. After all, becoming a maid is definitely not going to help her already loserish reputation. But Rachel picks up more than smelly socks on the job. As maid to some of the most popular kids in school, Rachel suddenly has all the dirt on the 8th grade in-crowd. Her formerly boring diary is now filled with juicy secrets. And when her crush offers to pay her to spy on his girlfriend, Rachel has to decide if she's willing to get her hands dirty...

Did you snag the deal for book 2 a couple weeks back? Now you can grab book 1 for FREE!

In A THRONE FOR SISTERS (Book one), Sophia, 17, and her younger sister Kate, 15, are desperate to leave their horrific orphanage. Orphans, unwanted and unloved, they nonetheless dream of coming of age elsewhere, of finding a better life, even if that means living on the streets of the brutal city of Ashton. Sophia and Kate, also best friends, have each other’s backs—and yet they want different things from life. Sophia, a romantic, more elegant, dreams of entering court and finding a noble to fall in love with. Kate, a fighter, dreams of mastering the sword, of battling dragons, and becoming a warrior. They are both united, though, by their secret, paranormal power to read other’s minds, their only saving grace in a world that seems bent to destroy them. As they each embark on a quest and adventure their own ways, they struggle to survive. Faced with choices neither can imagine, their choices may propel them to the highest power—or plunge them to the lowest depths. A THRONE FOR SISTERS is the first book in a dazzling new fantasy series rife with love, heartbreak, tragedy, action, magic, sorcery, fate and heart-pounding suspense. A page turner, it is filled with characters that will make you fall in love, and a world you will never forget.

Also gloriously FREE!

Zachary Degaud was twenty three when he died. The problem was, he didn't stay that way. Present day, he's just another vampire with another unremarkable story. That is, until he manages to provoke a two thousand year old witch named Katrin, who wants to make him pay in the most horrible way imagined. Along with his brother Sam, newly made vampire Liz and their only witch ally, Gabby, his only chance for survival is to summon the ancient and unpredictable vampire known as the Witch Hunter. Zac is just looking for a way out of his psychopathic witch problems, but instead will find himself falling head first into a blood feud that has stretched thousands of years. Aya has been asleep for the past 150 years, until she was awoken by a haunting call. The witch she has been hunting for thousands of years, Katrin, has resurfaced and marked a young, annoyingly arrogant vampire by the name of Zachary Degaud. Unless she does something, he will die a slow and painful death. He has given her an opportunity to end the witch, but does she want to help him or leave him to his fate? Zac will get under her skin like no one else has and she just might find herself making the ultimate sacrifice before he is gone forever. They will both have to choose sides and look deep within themselves before the end. But, what Zac learns about himself, will surprise him most of all.

This synopsis needs to be cut down, my god, but again: IT. FREE.

I was born to die... But to defy fate is to control your own destiny. Little did I know that I was entering a world of ritual and magic and that my blood needed to be spilled so the witches’ legacy could be complete. Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Supernatural Creatures. Dramatic Revelations. A Ritual Sacrifice. Ancient Artifacts. A Cold-hearted Serial Killer. Spilled Blood. Secrets. A Hidden Heritage. A Love So Deep. Supernatural Bloodlust. A Dangerous Curse. An Uneasy Alliance With A Dangerous Vampire. Legends of vampires and shape-shifters have been around for centuries, so Taylor Sparks isn’t too worried when the rumors start to fly. When Taylor learns secrets that are beyond terrifying, they threaten to destroy her entire world. She is born to die... But to defy fate is to control your own destiny. She warns her crush to leave. But how do you forget someone who is aligned with your soul? They fight against the witches, the vampires, and the werewolves. They know the consequences. They know the risk. But they don't care. Nothing will get in the way of these two star-crossed lovers. Taylor finds out she’s a KEY player in a dangerous game created 1,000 years ago that will give the witches and werewolves the upper hand against the vampires. Blood will be spilled and secrets will be revealed in this action-packed thrill ride and paranormal romance. Will Taylor dive into a paranormal world she knows nothing about to be with the one her heart can’t live without? Or will her life spiral out of control when she learns her blood is needed, just the serum necessary to lift an ancient curse from a group of supernatural beings and give the witches back their magic? Werewolves will serve as her guardians and protect her until the first full moon of the new year, the night of her sacrifice… Will she accept her destiny? Or will she refuse to let evil swallow her up?

For fans of Hex Hall, The Magicians, Practical Magic, and Food Wars! Anise Wise loves three things: baking, potion making, and reading her spellbooks in blissful silence. She might not be the most powerful witch, but enchantment is a rare skill, and her ability to bake with magic is even rarer. Too bad no one wants witchcraft on their campus. Anise’s dream of attending pastry school crumbles with rejection letter after rejection letter. Desperate to escape her dead-end future, Anise contacts the long-lost relative she’s not supposed to know about. Great Aunt Agatha owns the only magic bakery in the US, and she suddenly needs a new apprentice. Anise is so excited she books it to New Mexico without thinking to ask what happened to the last girl. The Spellwork Syndicate rules the local witches in Taos, but as “accidents” turn into full-out attacks on Anise’s life, their promises to keep her safe are less and less reassuring. Her cranky bodyguard is doing his best, but it’s hard to fight back when she has no idea who’s the enemy. Or why she became their target. If Anise can’t find and stop whoever wants her dead, she’ll be more toasted than a crème brûlée. Who knew baking cakes could be so life or death?

This one's kicking around on my shelves! I did a First Impressions of it awhile back and really liked it, and have been meaning to go back ever since.

Thoughtfully imaginative and action-packed, Steeplejack is New York Times bestselling A. J. Hartley's YA debut set in a 19th-century South African fantasy world “A richly realized world, an intensely likable character, and a mystery to die for." — Cory Doctorow, New York Times-bestselling author Seventeen-year-old Anglet Sutonga lives and works as a steeplejack in Bar-Selehm, a sprawling city known for its great towers, spires, and smokestacks – and even greater social disparities across race and class. Ang’s world is turned upside-down when her new apprentice Berrit is murdered the same night that the city’s landmark jewel is stolen. Her search for answers behind his death exposes unrest in the streets and powerful enemies. But she also finds help from unexpected friends: a kindhearted savannah herder, a politician’s haughty sister, and a savvy newspaper girl. As troubles mount in Bar-Selehm, Ang must discover the truth behind both murder and theft soon – or else watch the city descend into chaos. YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Selection Kirkus Reviews Best Teen Book Booklist Top Ten YA in Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

Also kicking around on my shelves somewhere!

Just about everyone knows a family like the Radleys. Many of us grew up next door to one. They are a modern family, averagely content, averagely dysfunctional, living in a staid and quiet suburban English town. Peter is an overworked doctor whose wife, Helen, has become increasingly remote and uncommunicative. Rowan, their teenage son, is being bullied at school, and their anemic daughter, Clara, has recently become a vegan. They are typical, that is, save for one devastating exception: Peter and Helen are vampires and have—for seventeen years—been abstaining by choice from a life of chasing blood in the hope that their children could live normal lives. One night, Clara finds herself driven to commit a shocking—and disturbingly satisfying—act of violence, and her parents are forced to explain their history of shadows and lies. A police investigation is launched that uncovers a richness of vampire history heretofore unknown to the general public. And when the malevolent and alluring Uncle Will, a practicing vampire, arrives to throw the police off Clara’s trail, he winds up throwing the whole house into temptation and turmoil and unleashing a host of dark secrets that threaten the Radleys’ marriage. The Radleys is a moving, thrilling, and radiant domestic novel that explores with daring the lengths a parent will go to protect a child, what it costs you to deny your identity, the undeniable appeal of sin, and the everlasting, iridescent bonds of family love. Read it and ask what we grow into when we grow up, and what we gain—and lose—when we deny our appetites.

Fairy tales are life.

From wicked queens, beautiful princesses, elves, monsters, and goblins to giants, glass slippers, poisoned apples, magic keys, and mirrors, the characters and images of fairy tales have cast a spell over readers and audiences, both adults and children, for centuries. These fantastic stories have travelled across cultural borders, and been passed on from generation to generation, ever-changing, renewed with each re-telling. Few forms of literature have greater power to enchant us and rekindle our imagination than a fairy tale. But what is a fairy tale? Where do they come from and what do they mean? What do they try and communicate to us about morality, sexuality, and society? The range of fairy tales stretches across great distances and time; their history is entangled with folklore and myth, and their inspiration draws on ideas about nature and the supernatural, imagination and fantasy, psychoanalysis, and feminism. Marina Warner has loved fairy tales over a long writing life, and she explores here a multitude of tales through the ages, their different manifestations on the page, the stage, and the screen. From the phenomenal rise of Victorian and Edwardian literature to contemporary children's stories, Warner unfolds a glittering array of examples, from classics such as Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, and The Sleeping Beauty, the Grimm Brothers' Hansel and Gretel, and Hans Andersen's The Little Mermaid, to modern-day realizations including Walt Disney's Snow White and gothic interpretations such as Pan's Labyrinth. In ten succinct chapters, Marina Warner digs into a rich hoard of fairy tales in their brilliant and fantastical variations, in order to define a genre and evaluate a literary form that keeps shifting through time and history. Her book makes a persuasive case for fairy tale as a crucial repository of human understanding and culture.

A classic.

This Newbery Honor-winning, hilarious Floridian adventure involves new kids, bullies, alligators, eco-warriors, pancakes, pint-sized owls, and more. A New York Times bestseller! Everybody loves Mother Paula’s pancakes. Everybody, that is, except the colony of cute but endangered owls that live on the building site of the new restaurant. Can the awkward new kid and his feral friend prank the pancake people out of town? Or is the owls’ fate cemented in pancake batter?

Three months after returning Magician Emery Thane’s heart to his body, Ceony Twill is well on her way to becoming a Folder. Unfortunately, not all of Ceony’s thoughts have been focused on paper magic. Though she was promised romance by a fortuity box, Ceony still hasn’t broken the teacher-student barrier with Emery, despite their growing closeness. When a magician with a penchant for revenge believes that Ceony possesses a secret, he vows to discover it…even if it tears apart the very fabric of their magical world. After a series of attacks target Ceony and catch those she holds most dear in the crossfire, Ceony knows she must find the true limits of her powers…and keep her knowledge from falling into wayward hands. The delightful sequel to Charlie N. Holmberg’s The Paper Magician, The Glass Magician will charm readers young and old alike.

In the explosive third volume of The Hundredth Queen Series, the queen of fire faces off against a demon of ice. Despite the odds, Kalinda has survived it all: Marriage to a tyrant. Tournaments to the death. The forbidden power to rule fire. The icy touch of a demon. That same demon now disguises itself as Rajah Tarek, Kalinda’s late husband and a man who has never stopped haunting her. Upon taking control of the palace and the army, the demon brands Kalinda and her companions as traitors to the empire. They flee across the sea, seeking haven in the Southern Isles. In Lestari, Kalinda’s powers are not condemned, as they are in her land. Now free to use them to protect those she loves, Kalinda soon realizes that the demon has tainted her with a cold poison, rendering her fire uncontrollable. But the lack of control may be just what she needs to send the demon back to the darkest depths of the Void. To take back the empire, Kalinda will ally with those she distrusts—and risk losing those most loyal to her—to defeat the demon and bring peace to a divided nation.

From the bestselling author of Catching Jordan comes a new teen romance sure to appeal to fans of Sarah Dessen. SOME RULES WERE MEANT TO BE BROKEN. Kate has always been the good girl. Too good, according to some people at school—although they have no idea the guilty secret she carries. But this summer, everything is different... This summer she's a counselor at Cumberland Creek summer camp, and she wants to put the past behind her. This summer Matt is back as a counselor too. He's the first guy she ever kissed, and he's gone from geeky songwriter who loved The Hardy Boys to a buff lifeguard who loves to flirt...with her. Kate used to think the world was black and white, right and wrong. Turns out, life isn't that easy...

For twelve-year-old Emily, the best thing about moving to San Francisco is that it's the home city of her literary idol: Garrison Griswold, book publisher and creator of the online sensation Book Scavenger (a game where books are hidden in cities all over the country and clues to find them are revealed through puzzles). Upon her arrival, however, Emily learns that Griswold has been attacked and is now in a coma, and no one knows anything about the epic new game he had been poised to launch. Then Emily and her new friend James discover an odd book, which they come to believe is from Griswold himself, and might contain the only copy of his mysterious new game. Racing against time, Emily and James rush from clue to clue, desperate to figure out the secret at the heart of Griswold's new game—before those who attacked Griswold come after them too.

Sang Sorenson’s father abandoned her and her sister, leaving them to fend for themselves for months. He’s returned, and finds Sang is missing. He demands she return. Right now. Will he call the police if she doesn’t? Her Academy team doesn’t want to risk losing her ghost status and she doesn’t want to put them in danger, so she reluctantly returns home, but is comforted that she will still be monitored by them. But the second she opens the door, she discovers her father has made changes that will affect her entire future. His decisions will make them a normal family. Normal is no longer what Sang wants. It would kill her Academy career before it ever started. Not to mention it would end the special, new, and still-fragile relationships with the guys. Sang struggles with her family, her identity, and where she truly belongs. Now that the entire team knows about their romantic relationships with her, tensions are mounting, tearing the team apart from the inside. Only, Dr. Green isn't going to lie down and roll over by playing by the rules. Not anymore. Not while Sang is at risk. His heart can’t take leaving her in that house one more minute. He needs her. They all do.

Twins Crystal and Amber have the same goal: to be the first in their family to graduate high school and make something of their lives. When one gets pregnant during their junior year, they promise to raise the baby together. It’s not easy, but between their after-school jobs, they’re scraping by. Crystal’s grades catch the attention of the new guidance counselor, who tells her about a college that offers a degree in automotive restoration, perfect for the car buff she is. When she secretly applies—and gets in—new opportunities threaten their once-certain plans, and Crystal must make a choice: follow her dreams or stay behind and honor the promise she made to her sister.

From the New York Times bestselling author of Reconstructing Amelia comes a fast-paced teen series where one girl learns that in a world of intrigue, betrayal, and deeply buried secrets, it is vital to trust your instincts. It all starts with a text: Please, Wylie, I need your help. Wylie hasn’t heard from Cassie in over a week, not since their last fight. But that doesn’t matter. Cassie’s in trouble, so Wylie decides to do what she has done so many times before: save her best friend from herself. This time it’s different, though. Instead of telling Wylie where she is, Cassie sends cryptic clues. And instead of having Wylie come by herself, Jasper shows up saying Cassie sent him to help. Trusting the guy who sent Cassie off the rails doesn’t feel right, but Wylie has no choice but to ignore her gut instinct and go with him. But figuring out where Cassie is goes from difficult to dangerous, fast. As Wylie and Jasper head farther and farther north into the dense woods of Maine, Wylie struggles to control her growing sense that something is really wrong. What isn’t Cassie telling them? And could finding her be only the beginning? In this breakneck tale, New York Times bestselling author Kimberly McCreight brilliantly chronicles a fateful journey that begins with a single decision—and ends up changing everything.

Know of any deals I missed? Let me know in the comments! via The Book Rat

[system-of-a-feather]

You know, as a fused whole, it is interesting looking back at the memories that are encoded explicitly from multiple perspectives as multiple parts understanding and interpreting the experiences individually.

One of the childhood memories we do remember was a really generalized episode as a kid, we're not even really sure what was the cause of it because honestly, we ended up in the situation a lot that I think it really blurred together, but we were deeply sad, deeply scared, and deeply feeling abandoned - something had made us as a young kid realize we really don't have anyone who cares or is looking out for us and that there wasn't anyone who actually loved us. We'd be balling hysterically clinging onto our bear that would sing one song, to which the lyrics - paraphrased to not give it away - directly said "I love you and have always loved you since I saw you, I want to be with you forever and I'll always be here to love you" and having it sing to us over and over - enough so that my entire family eventually got sick and tired of hearing it.

And we have four different perspectives of that memory.

There's the "not me I didn't exist but I know of it" that is just very "oh that's interesting" in the perspective.

Then there's the young child part that remembers the deep sadness, loneliness, fear, and hurt that they were feeling.

Then there was Aderis' perspective, which I think relates a lot more to probably the first time we ended up in this situation and likely had our dad going berserk, because there was an intense level of worry and concern for the little child and then there was an intense anger followed by deep hatred and resolution. It was beyond clear, the world wasn't safe for that child and the only person who would protect them, was me and by god would I do whatever I had to in order to make sure this child never felt completely alone.

And then there was the bear's perspective, Mina's perspective - seeing a little kid, deeply alone, deeply scared, deeply isolated and unloved, a poor and perfect child who needed someone to care and love them, and the soft warm affection provided.

I can just rotate between the four perspectives, moving my eyes from one part to the next as they addressed and felt the situation. It's a nonspecific memory, an amalgamation of probably numerous similar events blurred together into a single instance, but it was such a formative memory for some of our parts and each having their own strong emotions and feelings about the situation.

It's honestly something interesting to just think and look at.

[system-of-a-feather]

Me: Man I havent listened to [redacted] in ages despite her being a favorite. Maybe I should listen to it. .... but then again it might awaken something in me I dont want to waken

*looks over my shoulder*

An Evaline Part: *puppy dog blinking*

Me: oh right "something I dont want to awaken" is yall ok sure fine

Its kind of really funny how much we used to actively avoid stimulating those parts at all that we very heavily have a 'avoid anything that might awaken something' and now we are just like

Oh right, them, theyre mostly awake and letting them exist on their own terms is important so sure, lets let that "thing we DIDN'T want to awaken" get stimuli

[system-of-a-feather]

You know, I'll be honest and I really don't care if that anon is looking, because genuinely if we are talking about traumatized parts and quite frankly, if people are going to be talking about us like they know whats better for us, then I think we have a right to not be the bigger man about it once in a while

And you know, SPECIFICALLY because the topic is about how "oh those trauma parts don't get to exist and say their piece" and what not, SPECIFICALLY because that is the topic, I can and will express my feelings on the matter because you know what, this is my fucking blog. I'm not gonna put it in the tags. If they see it, thats their own problem.

But that anon honest to god pissed me the fuck off and in hindsight, it was a little bit of a cunty move to just at the bottom play the exact same "oh let me assume kindly question if the way you are treating your traumatized parts is right and not secretly evil and cruel" like you did at us, and yeah, we probably know better, but fuck it man, some of us were a bit dysregulated over the ridiculous, absurd, and presumptuous nature of the anon as well as the basically clear "Hey I know you have your vulnerable parts, but I - a complete stranger - have the right to talk about them, for them, and over you because those vulnerable parts are too poor baby to voice it themselves"

Like I think it's gross to read someone talking about their vulnerable parts and how they help them and to walk into their space and tell them that they are actually doing them harm as if those methods of working with them and addressing them weren't built over years and years of working with said vulnerable parts and talking to them.

I thinks its disgusting.

Very explicitly sitting in Dhalia brain right now because you know what, if we are gonna sit here and talk about those dysregulated parts getting a voice, then sure, I'll voice that I think its super duper cunty and egotistical to assume you know better than a person about how their traumatized vulnerable parts feel.

We can speak for ourselves darlings.

Lots of love,

The Super Vulnerable Poor UwU Baby Traumatized Parts who clearly have no voice or ability to exist or speak in this system and such a poor innocent part that would really rather have their requests and needs be respected than forced to do just about anything.

[system-of-a-feather]

I think there is a lot of an issue with gatekeeping and term policing around terms expressing an individual's ability to use certain words around verbality and a lot of implied hierarchy of speaking-issues needs within the CDD community particularly. I fully understand the issues with verbal and semi-verbal people taking up the space and making it hard to find resources for non-verbal people; but I do think rhetoric, method of discussion, discourse, and advocacy has more or less created this pressure of "are you speaking-impaired enough" and "my struggle is real and yours is 'just' a trauma side effect" sort of underlying subtext in how a lot of these discussions are handled.

I think the discussion on the usage of words like non-verbal and semi-verbal is incredibly important, especially for a community that is so frequently Literally Talked Over; but I also think we need to be mindful of not making this into something invalidating of systems and parts that have significant speaking issues.

Yes it is different to be a part that can not speak with parts that can speak than it is to be a person who can never speak no matter what.

Yes those experiences are absolutely different, but parts who can not speak in a system / whole that can still have significant struggles and experiences in life that can be shared with individuals with speaking issues / non-verbal and semi-verbal individuals.

Those parts are not immune from experiencing discrimination in a verbal and speaking world and treating parts that are not able to speak in a system that is like "verbal people choosing to be unable to speak" or "verbal people with no idea what it is like to have significant issues speaking" is both very invalidating and not productive to the discussion of challenges individual who are unreliably-speaking and have speaking issues face in a largely verbal society.

I personally don't care too much about the verbage itself nor do I really know my place in the discussion, particularly in the imposed hierarchy as a system with parts that can speak, but with a large majority of our parts that are unable to speak and/or have signficiant speaking issues + Language Processing Disorder + Autism.

I was just expressing the challenges I as a part have with being motivated to allow people to perceive me and for me, as a part, to attend therapy is the expectation to be verbal and the immediate judgement that people make and assume when I can't speak. Me and our side system's experience of navigating a world that expects us to speak is not the experiences of a fully verbal individual.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I think we should stop talking about verbality in relation to CDD systems as a "verbal vs not verbal" and more as a spectrum of individuals with speaking issues and I also think we should stop minimizing the struggles of individuals with selective mutism and/or treating those individuals like they are "basically verbal."

[system-of-a-feather]

Sort of alter introduction

I'm TT, but Im debating maybe picking up a name of Tae, Tale, or Double-T. We will see if any of those stick.

Either way, I'm probably the host of Feathers' side system currently referred to as the Evaline Sidesystem or - if it sticks - Vocaloid subsystem for the funny of it all.

I'm probably around 7 or 8 in alter age, but I am more than capable of operating to both the same maturity and capacity as our fused whole - excluding verbal speaking which I honestly dislike is a measure of operating

I like Vocaloid and adjacent media and beyond that, I enjoy walks where I can be with my own thoughts

Thanks for reading

(Ps XIV is telling me to name myself 2xT because it's ridiculous and would one up his naming scheme and it honestly sounds a bit fun so I am not saying no to that)

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly, it might be a bit controversial, but I am actually very glad and thankful that our system (as a whole) completely ignored us and actively did not think about us for the past couple years. I mean, I guess its not surprising at all, because they were doing that because some of us had communicated regularly to Lin that we explicitly did not want to be bothered or exist and they were respecting that, but seeing things as a whole, I really appreciate that. It gave our system time to learn skills and self care and gain stability that when any of us became at all interested in existing or communicating or recovering, they had / have a lot more to work with to help us, take care of us, and support us.

I'm starting to think maybe our side of the system might start trying to engage in the world again. I'm starting to think maybe our side of the system will take over the actual DID related content on this blog as we really are the only ones that still genuinely have the capacity to experience DID in anything of a DID manner.

I think in a way, I'm starting to feel safe and secure enough with our overall system's ability to stay stable, stay safe, and care for ourselves that maybe, just maybe, we can work on things from before the age of 12. Maybe we can untangle some of that. Maybe we can figure out who we were before our side gave up. Maybe with the support of the side that has already "won" the game of trauma and DID of post-12 year old trauma, maybe it's not such a hopeless and doom filled notion.

I'll admit, I don't even fully know which part of The Other Side I am, I think I am probably TT in something of a more stable / mature mental space, but I guess that's why its nice to have a side system that really has mastered their end of plurality, dissociation, and trauma.

I can't say I'm not at least a bit interested in figuring out the mess on this side of things rather than just accepting the zoomed out rats nest that we are at face value.

I'm not sure honestly.

[system-of-a-feather]

I think it's honestly really nice to be able to safely explore things finally. I think its also fun and insightful conversation with @millefoli about system experiences (particularly relating to SEAsian things) that did kind of remind me that pre-syscovery and DID recovery, that a large thing that divided my system and the main system is that my system used to be stuck irl and the main system used to be stuck online where we had a lot more freedom to explore, express, bond and socialize.

In a weird way, we are starting to sort of swap roles. Where the main system (Feathers and the parts that make up the majority of Feathers) have little interest in things online and mostly live and do things irl, those of us that were originally stuck irl are now getting the opprotunity to use the internet how those parts did to kind of figure things out.

[system-of-a-feather]

I think one of the really sad thing about our system is that we have many littles - many, but very few people - including our fiance - know of us because we are all just so incapable of handling attention anymore. We're so accustomed to being ignored and unwanted at best and beaten for drawing attention to us that we just can't do attention unless we are heavily comforted / supported by other parts and in a really productive mental space.

And so our system looks like we really only have one little, maybe two depending on if you count Lin, but we really have a lot.

The really sad thing is most of us - deep down - really want attention. Really want to be loved and cared for. We just can't handle it anymore. We can't fathom it. We would rather die than be perceived as ourselves. It terrifies us and makes us scared. In a weird way, our system's most jaded parts are littles. We've been challenging ourselves a lot more, the Feathers whole has been very kind and helpful and supportive for us to even help give me the support to write this, but to say we haven't been at the brim of our window of threshold almost every day around topics of us existing and being perceived would be a lie.

I think though, the thing that really gets me in particular is some of this genuine sense of envy towards our "One Little" that not only exists to most people, but she actually exists the most out of anyone in the system other than Feathers, just because she enjoys that attention, she enjoys being silly, she was able to actually take the opportunity to get attention and affection and accept it and I understand that she is like that because someone has to, someone has to be able to get our needs met, because she is me and therefore I can also have it to some degree

But as an independent part, one that can experience myself alone, I really wish I could have that, but anytime it's me, I'd rather die than be perceived by people and I'm really not even the most adverse to it here.

[system-of-a-feather]

Hai hai! Second part from this side to officially say hello on here other than Tae / TT! ^^

I'm Dhalia, she/her is preferred but they/them is alright as well. I'm probably one of the most 'developed' parts on this side of the system because I've engaged with the main system the longest and the most out of the side system of parts that refused to engage. Excluding the fused states, I'm probably the oldest and "big sis" of our side system being probably around 15-16~ I'm probably also the most extroverted / talkative part on this side - even though I also haven't interacted in the world (ie, not our system, and only one way online) with anyone in years either

I've posted here once or twice before, but Tae's (I actually like that name for her =w= I'm going to make it stick >w<) idea of self expression and depiction through vocaloid PVs, songs and concept was actually a really fun challenge and accidentally got me somewhat awake since they were looking for me.

Anyways, as long as I'm on good feet I think I'll also participate in this little venture ^^

-Dhalia

(Honestly, I actually haven't felt much of authentic interest in being part of anything pretty much... ever? But I find myself with this very instinctual and deeply run love for Tae's adventure here and I'm - unexpectedly to even me - really wanting to support them which is new! But I'm open to it ^=^)