#ash nic Answering

[lovelygirlnicole15]

Tell anything about yourself & add "af" at the end

I'm a aggressive shipper that ships anyone that is together, I'm also asexual af

[halfwaydeepunofficial]

music asks!!

7 for sebastian and 10 for franklin

7. one song that encapsulates their view of the world

oooh!

before i say the song i would like to say that it's the only one i know from this musical. nic introduced it to me back in like 2020. but i think the best song i can think of that encapsulates his view of the world is "not a common man" from the american psycho musical. ...which i guess means that sebastian shares a worldview with patrick bateman? idk. i've never seen american psycho lol and i probably never will. i don't have the stomach for that, wbk.

anyways! the song is basically patrick bateman singing about how he has a god complex and the rules don't apply to him and he needs something beyond normal hedonism. that last part is sort of eh - sebastian does engage in a lot of hedonism - but what he truly wants is power. which i think is expressed well enough in the song.

10. one song that represents a core fear

ooooh honestly this is hard because most of the songs i associate with franklin are about general anxiety rather than specific fears. there are also some songs on his playlist that are adjacent to his fears, but aren't really about fear and really capture the spirit of a different emotion.

i think the song that comes closest is "dust and ashes" from natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812. (tangentially related fun fact: franklin loves russian classic novels! it's the biggest reason he's a comp lit major.) franklin does deeply fear dying, though i would say it's not something that he's constantly aware of the way many of his other fears are. i think even more than that, the reason "dust and ashes" resonates with him so much are the twin core ideas in the song of missing out on life, of dying before you fall in love or experience true happiness or are fulfilled, and the fear of not having been good enough during your life. he's especially afraid of that last one. he desperately wants to be good enough.

also honorable mention to "a complete list of fears ages 5-28", which is about being afraid of everything but especially losing the person you love. which is an incredibly franklin coded thing. but that song's been on nic's oc jasper's playlist since long before franklin was even created so like... the association runs too deep to really answer this ask with that song.

then again so has dust and ashes... maybe i should put complete list of fears on franklin's playlist anyway. he and jas are anxiety bros.

[omaticwriting]

Fears- Book 1: Awakening [Chapter 5- opening eyes and shining stars]

Nicolas stood firm, the gaze of the eyes alongside his very own burned away the very mass that is Visera as the mass began to bubble and boil, waxing and waning as it burned away old flesh to make way for the new flesh only to burn again in ad nauseam.

Despite the pain felt, they could only grin to mock the eye child before her to show how futile his attempts to burn away at her are, and for him to realize how much he was out of his depth.

-o-okay Nic, you’re okay, you just need to outlast her and maybe you'll win- he mentally pampered himself, all in vain to rid himself of his expression of hopelessness, despite the divine intervention he received, more so from gods, he more than detests. and yet they gave him a chance to fight, though slim if he played right there was still a chance to live.

Just as to how he does with his sudden newfound gifts, and better yet what extent can it go, oh he wished he could get the answer now than soon, and as for why, he could only speculate the Lunar Powers and the Pyre's attempt to be in his good graces or as an apology, regardless he would exploit it to the best of his abilities.

And that act of exploitation wouldn't be enacted for very long, as the sudden shock wore off and came in its place of pure cold determination. As for now, the best he could do in this battle was to simply survive long enough for the constant burning to take its toll on the mass as now it was a battle of attrition for him and a simple swat for Visera.

Visera twisted and writhed, cackling and moaning in delight with every passing second they felt pain. “Okay, my prey~" she spoke with an insidious infatuation and annoyance, "I think I'll enjoy eating you more now,” the mass sadistically said. Mixtures of mouths and maws glowered and moaned like madmen while salivating at Nicolas' sight, fully expecting to enjoy the additional mass that he so annoyingly burnt off as tendrils rocketed to Nicolas, almost leaving him no time to react.

Nicolas looked on at the oncoming attacks with a panicked expression. The color outline of his magic rapidly switched between brown, lavender, and fiery orange, cycling on which to use before stopping at orange. His fingertips covering in dark decay before the very ends of his tips set alight like candles, clumsily clawing at the oncoming tendrils, the small flames let out an irradiating hiss as the flames followed the arc of his swipe before watching the attack burning to ash upon contact of the impromptu fiery barrier.

Now forcing out a pained scream from the abomination of flesh, Nicolas grew confident and became more deliberate with his attacks as the eyes seemingly disappeared while the ground around him grew into an inferno.

The ground below Nicolas wither and scald, revealing the once pristine stone floor beneath, the flesh surrounding him boiled and waned with every step he took despite the lack of a flame while the miasmic smell of burnt flesh and ichor filled the air, however, Visera remained largely unharmed, their regeneration outpacing the denaturing and ultimately the burning process with new flesh replacing the burnt and old, though the pain and suffering caused by it more than made up for it.

The abomination's expression of amusement slowly turned to anger at his attempt to fight, being humiliated by a mortal much less a child burned more than any divine flame than any flame he could ignite.

With a raging wave of ichor spurt forth from a made opening in the flesh-like coating of the chamber, catching him off guard as it doused his very body.

The raging heat disappeared the moment he was soaked. Now, he lay stunned on the floor shivering immensely from the surprisingly cold ichor, coughing and gagging from the ichor that he accidentally consumed “For one marked by the pyre you don’t seem to acknowledge your weakness all that much” Visera commented, and yet as if taunting all the same. A colossal and cocky mass of grins formed whilst a tendril quickly took hold, quickly dragging him to the awaiting maw. Visera cackled at his attempts to struggle and free himself from their hold. But it would be in vain the moment her maw finally closed with Nicolas inside, a small look of despair being the last expression he would ever make, bringing out the bittersweet taste of disappointment from within Ellisa “Thanks for the meal Ellisa” they exclaimed. Ellisa wordlessly nods, feeling a near feeling of sympathy and remorse for the hapless recruit that was eaten before her. Almost  -such a shame, he had such potential, though a heretic is a heretic of dual faith that is enough said- she mentally justified. “Now, would you kindly assist with the task at hand?” 

…

Nicolas wished he was somewhere else. Sharp teeth tore through his flesh with great ease whilst gastric acid melted his very bone alongside whatever myriad of his organs were exposed at the time as every agonistic snap and unholy crunch from the very same teeth that tore his flesh to mere threads and broke his bones like the very air that once surrounded him as it were nothing there, the only thing keeping him alive was the very intuitional magic he gained, allowing him to survive through a cycle of regeneration and digestion he now laid under.

“think nic, what can I do at this point?” he spoke to himself aloud, hoping an idea could come to him if he said so, and yet, nothing came to manifest he wondered and wondered how to escape the hell he found himself in, only to no avail as that same dreaded question returned to his mind. his situation now seemingly more helpless by the moment -what…can I do?-.

…

Willa had much to think about. Ever since the end of the adventure with Selene alongside her newfound friends Nicolas and Daniel and heading home, her parents became worried sick given how their world suddenly fused, but despite the worries of her parents and the wild antics that happened at summer camp things came to a soft finish. Yet, she lay awake, thinking of the strangeness in Nic before she left, why she never saw him, and why she felt a migraine.

Now in the present, she went out on a nightly stroll, the feeling of the cold breeze and adrenaline was still fresh on her mind as she tried to wrestle with her thoughts, the moon in the sky now only a slender waxing crescent. 

“Hm, what should I do while I'm still up?” she said. A somewhat amused expression filled her face while she wandered the twilight-lit neighborhood, the stars shining in the sky now an endless sea and torrent that shone brighter, piercing past the light pollution caused by cities far away prior to the fusion, perhaps another small plus to this whole event.

Life felt peaceful tonight and Willa didn’t honestly mind it, granted her adventure had just ended she wanted more, and taking a backseat like last time didn’t truly settle all that much. Looking up to the sky she let out a slight grin, the cold wind flowing freely through her short yet curled orange hair. Her thoughts were filled with peace yet yearning. 

Until an unfamiliar tune broke the silence.

A strange song echoed through the forest, its tune both alluring and tempting to the ears, and Willa was no exception, each note entranced her very being, gaining her interest, with a wide grin Willa followed the entrancing tune to its source in an almost reckless speed.

-huh, wonder who's singing that?- she mentally wondered to herself. trekking deeper into the twilight-lit forest, the more cautious part of her mind now passed screaming to return to the path and return home and taken over by curiosity and the song's allure until finally, she saw the source.

It was a small pond. its water was pristine with the twilight moon reflecting over the small pond with reeds poking out what few small stones that surround its pristine shore as a pale fog hovers over the water's edge while two beings peacefully occupy it.

A young man sat by the small pond’s edge, the fog embracing his body, obscuring him to an almost silhouette-like image were it not for the very pockets of his body that failed to cover him, his mouth for a brief moment being shown to be a minuscule smile of content while a woman who wore an ivy green dress with accents of bronze peacefully rested within the water, her waist downward, nearly obscured by the water as a serpent-like tail peaked through the pond’s surface, ending in two ivory ends, sang an alluring tune, amusing both her and the boy.

Willa could only watch from the foliage so as not to gain their attention, making great use of her intuitional magic and becoming more unseen to the eye until a translucent silhouette of her body remained as it blended with the darkness and foliage. Her mind wondered if this was something she was supposed to watch, knowing this was somewhat an invasion of privacy though her train of thoughts ended when the woman finished her song, gaining applause from the boy.

…

“That was amazing,” the boy silently cheered. A small smile grew on his face and began to applaud despite no sound emanating from his hands, however, the woman found it amusing and almost endearing regardless, bowing at the silent applause, replying with an almost sheepish tone  “Thank you, I don’t often get a chance to sing”.

The boy’s mouth straightened at her reply, and a sense of sympathy and warm solitude washed over those around and surrounding the pond, the fog growing heavy “Why? It’s beautiful” he queried. The mist now entirely obscures him, leaving nothing but his voice to echo through the fog “For being the newly reincarnated herald of solitude, you are very sociable” 

“Well, solitude isn’t always a bad thing, even then solitude is not but my secondary purpose,” the boy said with an almost hopeful tone. The two smiled at one another, the fog becoming denser, bringing a peaceful sense of mystery. Their silhouettes became more obscured before it was cast away with an almost painful shine of righteous light.

“Madam saint, I beseech you to stop bonding with this herald” spoke a gruff individual, their attire was of divine white armor, their sword sheeted as a righteous bright aura surrounded the paladin, cutting away the night and fog, bringing way to the morn with stalwart glory, their armored arm compressing heavily on the young man’s waist with discriminatory righteous pressure, the fog being swiftly cutting away by their holy radiance, revealing the pain and discomfort look of the young man, much to the saint’s dismay.

“He meant no harm paladin," she chastised with disgruntled impunity "Have you forgotten the duty of your role is to protect the people much how you would our own?” she backhandedly questioned, only for the paladin to retort, their voice somewhat annoyed yet patient similar to a parent to their bratty child.

“I have not, however you know well my priorities are of the church of the solar powers first" they reminded the saint insistently "and as of the church's decree, my first and foremost duty is to keep you safe from threats such as both of your swooning behaviors” They gestured to the young herald in their armored grasp while looking to the saint before them, bringing a begrudging understanding of both before continuing “alongside hidden threats such as the child hiding within the foliage” unsheathing their sword, they pointed towards the bush willa hid, causing her to flinch in shock.

The woman looked where Willa hid, her expression being more of confusion and slight shock, though it did not deter her from responding “Come out child, we mean you no harm there is no need to worry” she spoke with a warm non-threatening tone so as to not scare her as thoughts popped into her mind as to how long she watched them.

…

Willa froze in place as she stared at the group of medieval-looking figures, unsure as to what they were talking about, however seeing the paladin point their sword in her general direction was not a good sign, especially given the fact they seemed to want her to come out despite the language barrier.

She watched the saint speak again before another retort by the paladin followed by the herald, though she knew she was speaking, she lacked any sort of means to translate, be it relaying it in a language she spoke like Orbos or writing down and relaying like Daniel, even then she didn't bring any tools for it, so with hesitance, she stepped out of the foilage slowly, her body tense and crouched with every step she takes as the magic that surrounded her faded to reveal her very being.

She noticed a surprised expression followed quickly by elation by the saint, watching her speak once more "Hey not to be rude but, language barrier. Ever heard of it?” She bluntly spoke. There was no use in hiding what she had to say to them, standing up she looked at the strangers before her with a mix of weariness and resolve, she knew well that she didn’t understand them and the same could be said as well but that wouldn’t fully deter her as the cold lunar winds blew in her favor.

An incomprehensible speech came forth from the paladin whilst they drew their sword, a radiating light emanating from them, giving weary looks from both Willa and the two other figures before the woman spoke up, placing one hand on the paladin’s blade before raising the other.

A low murmur of chanting escaped the woman’s lips, her reached-out hand glowed with divine grace before abruptly ending in a flash of deep solar light, nearly blinding all people in the area “Can you understand us now, child?” she asked, lowering her hand, her arm showing signs of overexertion.

Willa flinched at hearing the saint’s words, especially since she could understand her with what she believed was perfect English, and unlike her experience with Orbos who simply played an English version of what people said over their native language, there was no voice-over, just her voice.

At least she could communicate with them and figure out who they are. Shaking away from her shock she looked at the saint “Y-yeah” she answered with caution in her tone.

“Good,” the saint said with a warm smile before introducing herself, her gaze briefly moved towards the fogged Herald with sympathy, and her paladin and anointed bodyguard's armored hold grew ever uncomfortable “I am Mel, light saint of truth,” she motioned towards the fogged man “he is Aariyeh, the herald of the mist, mindfulness, and solitude, and should not be within one's rueful grasp” she spoke with a sympathetic tone to him before changing to a somewhat authoritative to the paladin, both shared an ire gaze with one another before begrudgingly relenting.

Releasing their hold from the herald, Aariyeh mouthed a thanks towards his savior before tending to his throbbing head “And of course, this is my bodyguard, Morin, light paladin of bravery” she motioned to the paladin in question, their grip on their sword grew tighter.

“I’m Willa, your resident child of the town just behind me,” she said plainly, though added a little flair to match their titles, though it didn't stop Morin from burning holes into her by his gaze from the amount of snark she gave off from her introduction alone, at least it wasn't literal at the time.

“What brings you here, Willa?” Aariyeh asked, stumbling to sit by one of the stones of the pond, Morin’s gaze lay firmly on him.

Willa's thoughts swung from truth to lie in the tune of scales, managing her risks and rewards before ultimately throwing it out of the window and coming clean“Well, I couldn't sleep cause a lot of stuff happened at summer camp, first, the world fused, went on an adventure, next my friend acted weird and got a migraine before explaining what happened to my parents!" she exasperated as she retold her adventure, but taking a swift breath she looked at the group with renewed clarity "sorry about that, but the point is I couldn't sleep, took a walk out before I heard singing and found you all” she finished, Mel nervously laughed, she noticed Morin’s gaze soften slightly towards the child

“Regardless, you should not be here” Morin spoke, walking to Willa before kneeling to meet their gaze. “ Willa was it? It is much late in the night and it is best to go home while you can, lest the dangers of the dark take hold”  they told with a sense of cold yet stalwart care.

"I will anyway, sheesh” Willa rolled her eyes, waving away any sort of sympathy from the paladin, but understood nonetheless, her moms taught her enough of the dangers of the night as is, no need to hear it from a stranger.

If Morin could take off his helmet, he would be amused by the potential and ferocity inside the wild child, but it is best to keep such vulnerabilities in private moments for now “Good, but before you leave to take this” their hand dug deep into their armor, revealing a small pouch before presenting its contents to Willa and her eyes grew wide.

It was a smooth white stone, and its surface showed her reflection and a small feeling of connection woke within her “It will keep you safe“ they explained.

Willa stared awe stuck and confused at the stone, to her it was simply that. and yet as her hand grew close to it, it felt as though a lost part of her was found as she grabbed the stone and saw it in her hand a sudden shock struck her body as the world around her felt different and oddly the same as if she were one with it all, but that had to wait, quickly brushing the feeling off, she looked at Morin and nodded “Uhh…thanks? Well I guess I’ll see you around,” she said. Quickly leaving.

As Willa walked through the forest, she looked at the stone in her hands and had a lot to think about, at least until she caught the scent of iron and filth alongside the sound of unsavory crunch that makes one’s body convulse, though normally she would run faster a familiar voice changed her mind.

His breathing  was rugged and barely clinging to life as groans of suffering and pain escaped his lips “Nic?” She spoke aloud, following towards where the source of the voice of her friend lies.

…

“It’s nice seeing this side of you, though what exactly did you give?” Mel told Morin. It was rare to see them soften up and in those moments brought bits of joy. 

“I only did what I had to“ they retorted, walking back to the pond, their posture returned to a formal look as he planted his sword into the ground and sat, now tired from the weight of their armor.

"Uhm Morin?" Aariyeh looked at Morin. his tone sounded cautions as the paladin gestured him onward with his query "What exactly was the gift you gave Willa? Because I felt a strong presence of natural magic residing within that stone".

Morin looked at Aariyeh before looking to the pond's reflection “20 Sola's in the past, back when I was still young and had recently been chosen as a ray paladin and begun my pilgrimage of dawn, I met a hermit who worshipped the goddess all mother Terra, they requested to rescue their tribe from a group known only as the 'cult of eyes' who have been stealing their and the village's children, at that time I had finished my morning rites of stalwart-ship and was preparing my rites of honing” they told their tale, sensing the two grow closer they continued "Regardless I obliged, by the time I have fought them off and returned the children to the tribe, a feast was done in my name, however, I was to quickly leave, for my pilgrimage mattered more"

"Really?" Mel questioned her bodyguard, who gave a small relenting sigh at her query, she was the saint of truth for a reason.

"I had stayed for two dawns" they confessed, letting Mel give him an amused smug before ending his tale "Before I left, the hermit gifted me a stone, they informed me that only those who have connections to nature or worship terra could harness the power within it" by the time they ended their tale, Mel and Aariyeh looked at them with dumbfoundedness and sincerity.

"Do you believe she could use it? Or at the very least have the potential to?" Mel questioned them. leaving them to ponder over the potential shortcomings, and yet found peace of mind from it all for this was a new era in a new and fused world, and with it comes dangers alongside surprises as Morin gave a simple reply.

"Perhaps".

[stitchwitchsapprentice]

Family: A Short Story

Five boys crouched in the alley between the toy store and the bakery on Vine Passage in Queensville. All were between the ages of ten and fifteen. A layer of mud on their bare skin disguised much of the tree-bark like lines snaking across their skin, marking them as sprites, but did little to hide their vibrant red hair.

"Should we really be doing this?" One of the boys whispered, "my mom'll kill if we get caught."

"It's what they deserve, for picking on Oak."

The youngest boy, and the only one with blonde hair, tugged a knitted red cap over his head.

"Shh! They're coming!" A third boy hissed. He stood at the front, the tallest, though not the oldest, of the five. A silence fell upon the gathering, and the boy at the front held up three fingers as he watched from around the corner. Five more boys approached, of similar ages, also all sprites. These boys were better dressed, if only because they were not covered in mud from the recent rains. The fingers counted down. Two, one, and then pointed. 

The five in the alley ambushed those in the street, hurling clods of mud from a reed basket two of them carried. They chased the others to the corner until a woman came out of a gift shop. She was human, and she was clearly not pleased to see the boys near her shop. "I'll see to it you're all arrested by the keepers!" She yelled, and the boys scattered.

They slowed down as they reached Acorn Avenue, and started to peel away, leaving Oak and his brother, Ash, to trudge toward their house. 

"We're gonna get in trouble, aren't we?" Oak asked.

Ash put an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "Maybe so, maybe not." He nodded his head toward a house on the corner. Oak followed as they knocked on the door.

"What did you get yourselves into this time?" The boy who answered was one of the few humans who lived on Acorn Avenue. Though his skin was a similar golden brown color as the other boys, it did not bear the distinctive tree-bark pattern. His hair was a boring brown, and he was a head taller than Ash, even though they were the same age.

"The Central Row boys were picking on Oak. Saying he's not a real sprite, just 'cuz he's got blonde hair." Blonde hair wasn't unheard of among sprites, but it was unusual. Most had red or orange hair, the color of autumn leaves. "Whose heard of a blonde tree?" one of the boys had asked.

Nic grinned as he opened the door wider. "Come on, you can wash up in here. My parents aren't home anyway."

Oak went first, using a towel Nic gave him to clean as much of the mud as he could off his skin and clothes. Not much had gotten in his hair, since he had been wearing the red cap.

When he came out of the bathroom, the older boys were sitting at the table, smoking cigarettes. "Mom's gonna get double mad at you," he told his brother. "She's told you not to smoke."

"She won't know if you don't tell her, will she?" Ash put out the cigarette on a plate, and then stood up. Nic took one more drag and then followed suit, opening the window as Ash cleared the air with his wind magic.

"You'd better clean up," Nic said as the cigarette box disappeared into his pocket. Then he grabbed the plate and disappeared into the kitchen to dispose of the evidence.

Ash went to the bathroom as Nic returned and leaned in the kitchen doorway. "You couldn't have taken just a couple more minutes in the bathroom?"

Oak perched on a chair at the table. "Why, so you can keep breaking the rules? I know you're not supposed to smoke either. Otherwise, you wouldn't wait until Ash came over so he could get rid of the smell." He wrinkled his nose.

"Well, it's the first time mom and dad have both been gone all week, okay?"

"Where are they?"

"They went to pick up Roman from school." Nic's twin brother, Roman, was a mage and studied at a special boarding school in the port city of Stonewall.

"He doesn't like it when you smoke either."

"No, he doesn't. Not that he'll be around to notice. Apparently he's already agreed to help with the lightning at that kid's play at Bertram."

"The what?"

Ash came back in from the bathroom, hair dripping, and shirtless. "Please don't tell me you just mentioned the Bertram Opera House in front of my brother."

"What do you mean kid's play?" Oak bounced in his chair.

"Forget it," Ash said, "it's not for you."

Nic looked from one brother to the other. "Am I missing something?"

"Oak has decided he is going to perform one day at the Bertram Opera House."

"I'm going to be the first sprite on the stage!" Oak bounced higher. "I'm going to be just like Lakeshore Silverflight!"

"Well, Silverflight never performed there, so you're not going to be just like him," Nic reminded the younger boy.

"Then I'll be better."

"Oh gods, you've gotten him started. Look, Oak, it's a human theater. They don't want people like us."

Oak ignoed his brother. "What's the play?" he asked Nic.

"Uh... I think it's... Lions of Gold?"

Oak bounced higher still. "Lions of Gold! Lions of Gold! I know that one! I could play Akalle!"

Ash shook his head. "Great, now I'm never going to hear the end of it."

Nic walked over to the other boy. "Relax, he's a kid. Let him dream a little."

"That's right. I forgot you were a dreamer too."

"Hey, astromythology makes no less sense than the Calistian gods." He licked a thumb and wiped a speck of mud off Ash's face. "You missed a spot."

"Can we go tomorrow and find out when they're having auditions?" Oak suddenly stood between the two older boys. "Please?!"

Ash looked down. "Oak, I already told you. No one at the Bertram Opera House wants you. They want people like..." Ash pointed to Nic. "...Roman."

Oak stamped his foot. "If you don't take me, I'll tell mom and dad you were smoking."

Ash rolled his eyes, but Nic just grinned. "Little brothers, am I right?"

"You and your brother are twins."

"One of us is still older, right? By five minutes or something?"

"And who's that?"

Nic shrugged. "Do you remember your birth?"

"You're not helping," Ash said as Oak tugged on his arm, alternately begging and threatening for Ash to take him to the opera house the next day. Ash relented. "Fine. We'll go. If we're not already in trouble for fighting." He grabbed his brother and pulled him toward the door. "See you later, Nic."

They did not get in trouble for fighting. Either the other boys had also gotten away with their escapade, or no one had ratted them out. So the following day, Ash took his brother downtown to the Bertram Opera House. He made sure both of them were well dressed in clothing made from the tight, woven fabric humans wore, rather than the knitted yarn that sprites had been wearing for centuries. Ash glanced at Nic's house as they passed, wondering if he should invite the other boy to come. But Nic was probably still asleep. He tended to stay up late, stargazing.

Ash and Oak were all the better for it because Flame, Forest, and Moon were headed out too. "Why are you dressed like that?" Moon asked.

Ash sighed. "We're going to the Bertram Opera House."

Forest snorted. "Why are you going there?"

"Because Oak wants to audition for the play."

"I want to see this." And so the other three joined them.

It was a twenty minute walk to the opera house. Ash was glad the other boys were with him, since he didn't want trouble. They technically weren't doing anything wrong, but they didn't really need to be for someone to call the keepers on them.

The five of them stood across the street from the opera house, watching as people bustled in and out. "Well, something's going on," Forest said, "they're not usually this busy until later in the day."

A woman passed them holding the hand of a young boy about Oak's age. He was blonde too, but he clearly not a sprite. Another woman at the door with a clipboard greeted them like a new teacher at the start of school.

"They're already auditioning!" Oak made a run for the door, but Ash grabbed his shirt collar.

"Hold on, there," he told his brother. "We can't just go running in."

"Yeah," Moon nodded to the lady with the clipboard. "You have to be on the list."

As the mother and son walked inside, the woman with the clipboard looked up sharply at them. "And what are you doing out here?" She spoke the words in a quick, clipped sort of tone, except for the word you, which she elongated and let hang in the air.

"I want to aud..." Oak started to say, but Ash clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Nothing!" the older boy told her. "Just running an errand for my mother. She needs a pound of mackerel from the fish market."

"Then you'd best be on your way."

"Yes ma'am." When Ash struggled to drag the straining Oak down the sidewalk, the other boys helped.

"But I wanna audition!" he whined as they reached the street corner.

"Yeah, well they don't want us."

Ash hoped his companions would agree with him, and they could go home, but Flame leaned down. "Well, you need to stake out the competition first, don't you? Come on." He tilted his head down a side street. And that was that.

Flame wasn't the leader because he was the oldest--two years younger than Ash in fact--or because he was the strongest--that was Moon. He was the tallest of the five, almost as tall as a human boy his age, but that had nothing to do with it either. He had this smile that eased you into things. A playful grin that could have convinced the sun to change its course in the sky. It almost reminded Ash of Nic.

Flame led the group down an alley to the back of the opera house. "I don't like it down here," Oak complained. "Isn't this were Godfrey Erikson was killed?"

Ash rolled his eyes. Leave it to his little brother to know about some actor who died a decade before he was born.

"Who cares about Godfrey Erickson?" Moon muttered, looking around the way he might when they were on Central Row.

"Yeah, didn't he turn out to be a murderer anyway?" Forest asked.

Flame shushed them all. He pulled a bobby pin from his pocket and wrestled with the lock for a minute.

"They're going to be using magic on it to keep it from getting picked, you know," Ash said, but Flame shushed him again, and the door swung open. Ash wasn't sure how Flame had learned to pick locks like that, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Oak tried to run inside, but Flame caught him. "No," he whispered, "We're staking out the competition, remember?"

Oak nodded, eyes wide. Moon continued to look around them, sniffing the air, as the other four leaned in toward the doorway. They couldn't see anything, but they could hear a voice stammering through a set of lines.

"I... may be... small, but... but I could con...conquer a lion."

"He's terrible," Oak whined, "I could do so much better than that."

Before anyone could respond, a whoop echoed in the alley, and something wet and slimy hit Ash in the back. "Ugh!" Forest yelled as the smell of rotting fish rose from the ground around them. They turned as one to see the Central Row boys gathered at the mouth of the alley, firing on them with something that had surely gotten out of the garbage behind the fish market. They'd probably gotten paid a few pennies each to take the trash out too. There was nowhere to flee but through them.

Ash charged into the nearest boy, and soon it broke into an all out brawl. If they had ruined his good clothes, the least he could do was to make sure they went home stinking too. Of course, all this time, the backstage door was still open, and soon several stage hands were pulling the boys off of one another. Ash was a little thankful for the fish garbage after that because he hadn't been covered in it, the stage hands may have kept a tighter grip on him until the keepers arrived. As it was, they didn't want to muss up their own clothes, so he slipped out of their hold, grabbed Oak, and ran.

This time, there was no hiding the fact that they had gotten into a fight. Not only were they covered in fish guts, they had ruined their best clothes. It wasn't until after their mom had given them a tongue lashing about wearing their nice clothes for no reason and hanging around the opera house when they had no right to that she finally got around to punishing them for fighting. They were stuck at home for the next week.

The other boys had fared no better. Moon had gotten an actual lashing from his parents. Forest was sentenced to yard work for the whole neighborhood, and Flame's dad decided to drag him to work. "If you can't stay out of trouble here, you'll stay out of trouble there," he'd said. 

The worst part of Ash's punishment was that when his mother learned Oak wanted to be in the play, she told him he could run lines with his little brother, for "entertaining ridiculous notions," as if doing that would make Oak realize he would never be able to audition at the Bertram Opera House. But the grounding seemed to have the desired effect on that too. By the end of the week, Oak assumed the auditions of the play were over, so it didn't matter that he knew the part backward and forward.

The first day they were allowed out, their mother sent them to get yesterday's bread from the bakery. It was in the business strip about halfway between Acorn Avenue and Central Row, so it was common for brawls to break out there. Since going alone was a poor idea, and Forest and Flame were still living out their punishments, Ash called Moon to come along. He didn't expect Nic to catch up to them on their way down the street.

"Hey, haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, mom found out we were fighting." Ash glanced at Moon, who kept his gaze straight ahead.

"Where you headed to now?"

"Bakery. Mom needs some of their day old bread for pudding."

"Can I tag along?"

Ash glanced at Moon again. This time, he glanced back and shrugged.

As they walked out of the bakery, two of the boys from Central Row waited for them. "Well, if it isn't the little blonde freak," one of them said. Ash heard an intake of breath next to him, as if Nic were preparing to speak, and he gave his hand a squeeze, hoping it would silence him. "You guys got us arrested by the keepers."

"You got yourselves arrested. Maybe next time you'll think twice before throwing fish at people." Ash pushed the group past the other boys.

"You walking away from us, you cowards?"

Ash turned. "Oh, you want to fight?" He tried to sound cool and causal, as if he really didn't care what the answer was. Even though they outnumbered the other two boys, he wasn't sure they could beat them. Oak was small, and he didn't know what kind of a fighter Nic was. Besides, he was already in trouble.

The other boys looked at the group. Ash could tell they were eying Nic, but they didn't say anything about him. "Tomorrow," one of them said at last, "Noon. Sunnyside Park. Let's settle this once and for all." Ash nodded, knowing it would settle nothing.

When they got back to Acorn Avenue, Nic went to his house and Moon walked Ash and Oak home. "You shouldn't have agreed to that. We don't even know if we'll have Forest and Flame tomorrow."

Ash shrugged. "They kick us, and we'll get them back later."

"What about Nic?"

"What about him?" Ash could feel Moon watching him. He gave the bread to Oak to take inside to their mother.

"You two just seem close is all."

"So?"

Moon scratched at the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. "Well, you're family. I wanted to know if he was too."

Ash glanced back at Nic's house. "I don't know yet."

"Well, when you do, let us know."

Ash nodded, and Moon headed back to his house.

The next day, around eleven, Ash and Oak told their mother they were headed to Sunnyside Park. They didn't mention what they were going to do there. Forest wasn't done serving his sentence yet, but Flame was available. As Moon suspected, he was not entirely happy with Ash's decision, but accepted it. Everything would have gone perfectly smoothly if they hadn't passed the Bertram Opera House on their way.

Ash hadn't really thought about it. He assumed the auditions were over and his brother would move on. But the same woman with the clipboard was standing out front. She narrowed her eyes as they walked past. "You're not the same boys who were here last week, are you?"

Ash was about to tell her he didn't know who she was talking about, and they were walking toward Sunnyside, when Oak yelled across the street. "Can I still audition for the play?"

The woman's eyes grew wide and she pursed her lips. Then looked at her clipboard and back to Oak. "I'm afraid we're full. Perhaps next time." Then before he could argue, she turned to go inside, almost running right into someone coming out.

"Excuse me," Nic Carter said, as he slid past her and down the stairs. She smiled at him, and after one last backward glance toward Ash and his friends, slipped inside and shut the door.

When he saw the others, Nic crossed the street. He opened his mouth, but Ash spoke first. "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing my brother lunch."

Oak tugged on Nic's arm. "Is it true they're done auditioning?"

"The director's at lunch. They're going to start again when he gets back." Nic barely gave the younger boy a glance, and he spoke in an unfocused sort of way, until he returned his gaze to Ash. "Don't tell me you're going to fight those other boys at Sunnyside."

"Someone's got to teach them a lesson."

Oak stood next to his brother sulking, until Flame whistled to him. He and Moon were walking away down the sidewalk. Flame tilted his head, indicating the other boy should join them. At first he thought they were going to the fight and leave Ash behind, but they lingered several feet away, murmering to each other about strategy. Oak could barely hear Nic and Ash from their new spot.

"And what are you going to do if you beat them? Use your magic to take their breath away?"

"I could take yours away instead."

Oak tried to listen to the conversation Flame and Moon were having, but he couldn't focus on it, especially as a big black car was pulling around the corner toward the Opera House. It slowed and stopped. He could see a man getting out. This had to be the director returning. Oak knew if he could just get someone to listen to him once, he could get that part. He knew it perfectly.

"I can't do this."

"What, can't be seen with your sprite boyfriend in this part of town?"

"As if I didn't spend all year with you at the history museum."

Oak crossed the street swiftly, making a beeline for the man exiting the the car. He was tall and thin, like he was made of toothpicks. He wore a red shirt, black pants, and the shinest shoes Oak had ever seen. Even as he ran across the street, the man approached the door of the opera house without even backward glance. Oak would have to do something to get himself heard.

"I can't do this, not with Roman right there."

"You told me your brother came out last winter, and they didn't care."

"They didn't."

"I may be small, but I can conquer lions!" Oak called out. At first, he didn't think the director heard him. Then he turned, slowly, almost jerkily, as if he were some kind of clockwork toy. Emboldened by the attention he was getting, Oak continued. "I don't need size or strength. I'm Akalle the Cunning." From across the street, he heard Moon yelling at him to stop, but this was his only chance.

"What then? You're afraid of stealing me from your brother? Because he's shown so much interest from that school of his."

"No, it's not that, it's just..."

"Just what?!"

The director strode up to Oak and leaned down until his face was inches away from the boy's. "And who are you?"

"Oakfield Ironglade. I'd like to audition for your play."

"Get out. Of my sight." This was not the reaction Oak had expected. And he really hadn't expected the director to push him. Oak stumbled backwards, tripped over a rock, and landed in the street.

It was the sound of Oak crying the broke Ash and Nic out of their argument. Nic ran over to help him, but Ash pushed the other boy aside.

"You boys have no business near this theater!" A man yelled at him.

Ash helped his brother to his feet. "You're right. We don't. Come on, Oak." Nic approached again, and Ash pushed him back. "Go home, Nic. You don't want to get involved."

"Everything okay?" Moon asked as Ash and Oak joined the other two on the sidewalk.

"Everything's fine," Ash said, "he's just not family. Come on. We have a fight to win. You ready, Oak?"

Oak wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Yeah. Let's go."

[softggyu]

love u

God i love you so much you have no idea

[a-dore]

hi!! just wanted to let you know that the billie eilish article that's going around is actually false, a twitter account made it up. finneas (her brother) tweeted that the article is actually fake :)

oooh thank you for letting me know, ash!!! i was already disappointed on her, thank god it's not true <3

[lovelikedestiny]

A lot of people had left Nicolo in his life.

His mother was taken by death when he was born, so he had no chance to get to know her soft voice, her warm smile or her safe, firm hugs like his sisters. All he ever knew was the violence of his father and his rage, spiked with grief and bitterness because he blamed Nicolo for his wife’s death.

Nicolo was never particularly close with his sisters: the age gap between them was too big and when he was ten, they got married and left to found their own families. The only things remaining were memories of his childhood - rare moments of tenderness and cheerful songs - slowly fading away. 

In the monastery silence, loneliness and darkness are his companions and when he and the others travel to distant lands and there is only destruction and blood, ashes and fire, death reaches with pale, bony hands for his fellow warriors and finally for Nicolo too.

And now Yusuf has left him too.

He had planned to lure the bandits away that were following them and told Nicolo to wait but the moon was already standing high in the night sky and Yusuf was nowhere to be seen.

With deep breaths Nicolo swallows against the tightness in his throat, fighting the anxiety and doubts that gnaw at his heart and the quiet noises of their horse do little to calm him. It just makes clear that Nicolo is here and Yusuf is not.

“He said he would come back,” he says to the mare, petting her gently and she neighs softly as if she would assure him that Yusuf would return any moment. 

He feels pathetic because Yusuf’s absence throws him off track so much and that he’s so weak he can’t stand the thought of being left behind again.

When he finally sees a familiar figure at the horizon, illuminated by the slowly rising sun, he is eaten up by worries and fear and before he can stop himself he’s running. Running like his life would depend on it, stumbling and panting while tears run down his cheeks and he doesn’t even bother with hiding their pure existence.

“Nicolo?” As soon as Yusuf recognizes him he increases his speed, rushing towards him, concern coloring his voice. “Is everything alright? Are you hurt? Nic-”

Instead of an answer Nicolo throws himself at him, feeling Yusuf’s unharmed, warm body under his shaking hands. “Never do that again,” he asks him, embarrassed that he’s crying openly now.

Yusuf’s arms close around him and Nicolo finally feels safe again. “Nicolo? Never do what again?” He sounds so tired but his whole focus rests nevertheless on Nicolo. 

“Don’t you ever leave me!” Nicolo pleads and Yusuf makes a soft throaty sound, cupping his face and wiping his tears away.

“I will never leave you, do you hear me?” Nicolo clings to him and he’s crying and acting stupid and he’s pitiful and didn’t sleep for two days and Yusuf has to be worn out too. But Yusuf’s gaze is full of affection despite the dark circles under his eyes, getting visible in the first light of the day. His love warms Nicolo to his very bones. “I gave you my heart and received yours in return, so I will keep it like the treasure it is until the end of time.” Yusuf kisses him and suddenly it doesn’t matter that their lips taste like dust and sweat and tears.

“Promise?” Nicolo whispers.

“I promise,” Yusuf gives back just as quietly and kisses him again.

A lot of people left Nicolo in his life - Yusuf is the first one to stay.

[stressedsnake]

Incorrect mutuals part 4!

Azzy: Oka-

Presha,already holding a hose: Where's the fire this time

@sassychaostrash

Nic: Violence isn't the answer. Kathy: You’re right. Nic: *sighs in relief* Azzy: Violence is the question. Nic: What? Dee, bolting away: And the answer is yes. Nic, running after them: NO-

@nic-exe-303 @themostingloriousisvictorious @nirmaanazakti

azzy: Goodnight moon. azzy: Goodnight tree. azzy: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.

@mister-finally-found-himself get it>

Ash: How's the cutest person here~? Nin: I don't know, how are they~? Ash, flustered: I- Azzy, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

@queerio-with-a-pen @feigning-folklore this is a universe in which i have higher self esteem

Ash: What did you do with Nin's body? Azzy: What didn’t I do with the body? Ash: Azzy: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.

[unloved-cadillac]

So Much For Your Happy Ending. (Levi x Reader)

Summary: a soulmate au where you have matching tattoos that moves around your body.

C/n: let me know how you guys are. I miss you.

Eighteen years old.

That’s when everybody gets their tattoo. Nobody knows exactly how it happens, but all they know is that at the time that you were born on your eighteenth birthday, a beautiful tattoo will form on your left forearm then it will begin to move around your body.

It’s fun sometimes because you could wake up in the morning and see your tattoo plastered on your face, or on your butt cheek. Very odd but fun nonetheless.

You had a blue wing that flapped and “flew” around your body. Your friends always enjoyed watching yours more than their own because yours seemed to listen to you.

“Tell it fly again.” Niccolo says as he looks at the wing, which was currently on your hand. “Okay,” you look at the wing, “fly.” You whisper and it flutters and moves up your arm. “Oooo.” Your friends say in awe of your tattoo. “You got such a cool one, Y/n. I got stuck with a potato. A potato! What the fuck?! I mean, I love cooking, sure. But you would think I’d get a knife or something.” Niccolo says as he drinks his soda. “Oh, Nic. Calm down. You’ll find her soon.” You pat Niccolo’s shoulder and he smiles. “How the hell did that dipshit find his soulmate so quickly? We aren’t even 21 yet.” Niccolo motions to Eren who was sitting with his girlfriend, feeding her fries.

“Well, you have to understand that they have been friends since childhood. They both turned 18 and had the same tattoos. It was sweet actually.” You say and he scoffs. “Cheer up, Nic! Maybe potato girl will show up soon.” Yelena wraps her arms around his shoulders. “But a potato! Seriously?!”

Everyone laughs and you get back to looking at your tattoo. It seemed to twitch every now and then which made you a bit worried because it never did that. But you spoke to it when you were alone. Telling it that wherever that your soulmate was, that you already love them and to be safe. That seemed to calm it down but the worry still hid behind your mind.

Recently, all you have been feeling was sick. Your leg and hands always hurt and you had consistent headaches. It only began a week ago and you even went to the doctors but they couldn’t give a diagnosis. You tried drinking water and pills but it didn’t help.

You decided to try and ignore it, figuring it was probably stress from all the assignments you had, and carried on with your life.

It was a month after your aches and pains began and you were lying in your bed texting your friends. Apparently, Niccolo finally found his soulmate. Her name was Sasha and she loved potatoes.

- Y: When are we meeting her?

- N: soon. How’s tomorrow?

- Y: sounds good. Y/n?

- You: yeah. Perfect.

You turn your phone off and lay down. Your tattoo began to flinch again and, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but it seemed like it’s royal blue color began to fade. You shook your head and fell asleep.

~~~~

‘Is he okay?’

‘No. He’s in critical condition. The car slammed into him and he raptured his whole left ribs and it pierced his internal organs. One being his heart.’

‘Oh my god. What now? Can you save him?’

‘We have to wait and see. We removed the bits and pieces but it was pierced too far in.’

The friends and family sat down and a blond boy held his mother as she cried. He looked down on his brother who had an oxygen tube in his mouth and bandages around him.

His tattoo beginning to fade.

~~~~

“Ladies, this is Sasha. Sasha, these are my two girls who I’ve known since kindergarten. Yelena and Y/n.” Niccolo introduces the two of you to the smiling brunette and she hugged you. “It’s so lovely to meet you.” She says and Yelena laughs. “Lovely to meet you too, Sasha. Are you hungry?” Yelena asks and Sasha’s eyes brighten up. “Always. Niccolo cooked me some his favorite dishes and it was amazing. I heard there’s a really cool restaurant on this side of town.” Sasha says and you nod. “Yeah. It has one, if not the best, seafood. Shall we?” You motion for all of them to walk and the four of you go to the restaurant.

Niccolo walked in front with Sasha while Yelena walked with you behind them. “You okay?” Yelena asks you as you look at your tattoo. “I don’t know. I feel..off? I don’t know. Something’s wrong.”

“Is it your soulmate?”

You shrug your shoulders and Yelena places her hand on your head. “Your temp is a bit high. Have something cold when we get to the restaurant.” You nod and Yelena hugs your shoulders. “It’ll be okay.”

In the restaurant, which was way more exquisite and classy than you thought it was, the four of you say and ordered. Niccolo insisted on getting only the best for Sasha since she had to leave in two days.

“What are you studying, Sasha?” You ask as you sip your water. “I’m majoring in art. I wanted to become a chef but the odds were always against me. Figures since this one is studying to be one.” She nudges Niccolo who had a faint blush on. “Let‘s see your tattoos.” Yelena says and they both show their forearms.

The potato’s both had flowers on it. Sasha’s were green, Niccolo’s favorite color, and Niccolo’s had red, Sasha’s favorite. “I read an article saying that when you meet your soulmate, it grows flowers and doesn’t move anymore. But the flowers thing isn’t consistent with everyone.” Niccolo says and looks at the two of you. “Ah. Nice.” Yelena says and you nod.

“Let’s see yours!” Sasha says and you roll up your sleeve and Yelena shows her arm. She had a butterfly, but it’s wings were multi colored. “That’s so beautiful, Yelena.” Sasha compliments her and Yelena smiles. “I bet my soulmate is so beautiful. And calm. Like a butterfly.” Yelena gets lost in thought and Niccolo slaps her hand. “Ow!” “Snap out of it.” He jokes and she shows her tongue at him.

“What about yours, Y/n?”

You look on your left arm to see it still twitching and flinching and when you show Sasha, her head tilts. It’s quiet and then she gasps softly. “What?” You ask and she looks up at you, with a shock. “Y/n, have you been feeling sick or like, aching everywhere?” Sasha asks and you nod. “Yeah. Why?”

Sasha scratches her head and looks at Niccolo like she was about to cry. “Honey, what’s wrong?” He cups her cheek and then she looks at you. “Y/n. I have a friend. He was in a terrible car accident a few days ago. He’s tattoo was a blue wing just like yours on his arm.” She points to yours and you gasp. “Levi is a great guy. But the accident..it was so bad. The doctors don’t think he’ll make it.” She whispers and you wake up suddenly. “No. H-How? I, this can’t be real. Where is he, Sasha? Which hospital?” You ask and she tells you the hospital is in the middle of town.

You didn’t wait. You ran outside the restaurant straight to a taxi. You told the driver your destination and your phone rings. “Yeah?” You answer not looking at the caller ID. “Y/n. His name is Levi Ackerman. Ask for that name. I’ll meet you there.” Yelena tells you and you cut the call.

Few minutes passed and you finally went to the hospital. Your body became numb all of a sudden. You took whatever strength you could and rant o the receptionist. “L-Levi Ackerman. I need to see him. What room is he in?” You ask and the lady asks who you are and if you’re family.

“I-I’M HIS SOULMATE! Please let me see him!”

When she told you the room, you ran to it. You started to burn and ache but finally, after flights of stairs, you made it to him.

Some people stood outside the room and you sniff as your tears started to fall. A lady with glasses approached you.

“Who are you?” She asks, her voice coarse and rough. “I’m Y/n L/n. I’m here for Levi Ackerman.”

The lady nods and looks at your neck when her eyes widen. “Your tattoo...you’re his..?” She asks softly and you nod. Another boy comes out of the room and his eyes land on you. Suddenly, a pain shoots through your body, especially your left side and you fall to the floor clutching your chest.

“Please. L-Let me see him.” You breathe out and Hange helps you up. When the boy and her take you to Levi, you felt your heart stop.

An older woman cried as she held the unconscious man’s hand and the sound of a beep filled the room. You looked at him and stood next to him as you tried to understand what the hell is happening.

The Doctor comes rushing in, pushing everyone aside and begins to perform CPR on Levi but unfortunately, it was too late. The woman looked at you while you stared at your tattoo.

It was gone.

It had turned into ash and fell off of your body and you looked up to see Levi. You slowly made your way, on stumbling feet, and sat next to him.

Your eyes searched his body and you just saw his royal blue wing fade and disappear. Your eyes widen and you couldn’t help but cry. “No..” you whisper as you hold his hand.

“No. No this can’t be real. We didn’t even meet yet! I didn’t hear your voice yet! I didn’t see your eyes! Levi! You can’t leave me so soon! Please! I didn’t even get to tell you that I love you. We didn’t get to have a date! Please! Come back!”

You cry as you rest your head on his chest, praying you will hear his heartbeat. He was still warm. He felt like home already. You meant to be in his arms. But not like this. Not when he didn’t wrap them around you. Not without him kissing your head and telling you that he loved you. Not like this.

You hugged him for one last time before waking up and looking at his face. Even though he had so much of bruises and scars, he was so handsome. His black hair and pink lips. Even though they were bruised, you still leaned up and laid a gentle kiss on them.

“I love you.”

The nurses came and took Levi away and you left standing there while the older woman looked at you. “Excuse me?” She calls and you look at her. “I’m Levi’s mother, Kuchel. I heard you said that you didn’t meet him yet?” She asks and you nod. Her eyes swell up with tears. “Oh, sweetheart.” She brings you in for a hug as you both cried in each other’s embrace.

Yelena, Niccolo and Sasha were there too. And it sucked that they had to see you like this. Sasha saw Connie, Jean and Hange and introduced Niccolo and Yelena to them. “Y/n just lost her soulmate, didn’t she?” Niccolo asks and they nod. “It was no use. He slipped into a comma and the injuries were far to lethal. It all happened so fast.” Jean whispers as he looks at you and Kuchel speak.

Later that night, you sat against your bedroom window and looked out at the sky. The night sky had no stars and it was pitch black. It’s like the world new that you had just lost your other half and decided to mourn with you.

Not everyone got to meet their soulmate. And that was the harsh reality that you had to live with.

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[lovelygirlnicole15]

Are you bisexual because on your last picrew reblog you choose ace (asexual shortly) & bi flag ?

I'm half asexual and half bisexual because I have a weird affection towards male and female fictional characters

[ash-pirate25]

How does flint first dealt with the difference in biology between him and ash? Like he is a reptile and she a mammal, she has period, body heat and you know

Ummmmmmmmmmm he will ask few questions and Nic will provide the answer since the surgeon have dealt with mammal patients.

other than that he goes along with it I guess until he has another question?

[richincolor]

New Releases For The Rest of 2020

The year ends with a number of books we've all been anticipating which makes for lots of great reading for us during the winter holidays. What books are you looking forward to?

A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) by Sabaa Tahir Razorbill

Picking up just a few months after A Reaper at the Gates left off…

The long-imprisoned jinn are on the attack, wreaking bloody havoc in villages and cities alike. But for the Nightbringer, vengeance on his human foes is just the beginning.

At his side, Commandant Keris Veturia declares herself Empress, and calls for the heads of any and all who defy her rule. At the top of the list? The Blood Shrike and her remaining family.

Laia of Serra, now allied with the Blood Shrike, struggles to recover from the loss of the two people most important to her. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory–or to an unimaginable doom.

And deep in the Waiting Place, the Soul Catcher seeks only to forget the life–and love–he left behind. Yet doing so means ignoring the trail of murder left by the Nightbringer and his jinn. To uphold his oath and protect the human world from the supernatural, the Soul Catcher must look beyond the borders of his own land. He must take on a mission that could save–or destroy–all that he knows. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Heiress Apparently (Daughters of the Dynasty #1) by Diana Ma Amulet

Gemma Huang is a recent transplant to Los Angeles from Illinois, having abandoned plans for college to pursue a career in acting, much to the dismay of her parents. Now she’s living with three roommates in a two-bedroom hovel, auditioning for bit roles that hardly cover rent. Gemma’s big break comes when she’s asked to play a lead role in an update of M. Butterfly filming for the summer in Beijing. When she arrives, she’s stopped by paparazzi at the airport. She quickly realizes she may as well be the twin of one of the most notorious young socialites in Beijing. Thus kicks off a summer of revelations, in which Gemma uncovers a legacy her parents have spent their lives protecting her from—one her mother would conceal from her daughter at any cost. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Black Friend: On Being a Better White Person by Frederick Joseph Candlewick Press

“We don’t see color.” “I didn’t know Black people liked Star Wars!” “What hood are you from?” For Frederick Joseph, life in a mostly white high school as a smart and increasingly popular transfer student was full of wince-worthy moments that he often simply let go. As he grew older, however, he saw these as missed opportunities not only to stand up for himself, but to spread awareness to the white friends and acquaintances who didn’t see the negative impact they were having and who would change if they knew how.

Speaking directly to the reader, The Black Friend calls up race-related anecdotes from the author’s past, weaving in his thoughts on why they were hurtful and how he might handle things differently now. Each chapter includes the voice of at least one artist or activist, including Tarell Alvin McCraney, screenwriter of Moonlight; April Reign, creator of #OscarsSoWhite; Angie Thomas, author of The Hate U Give; and eleven others. Touching on everything from cultural appropriation to power dynamics, “reverse racism” to white privilege, microaggressions to the tragic results of overt racism, this book serves as conversation starter, tool kit, and invaluable window into the life of a former “token Black kid” who now presents himself as the friend many of us need. Back matter includes an encyclopedia of racism, providing details on relevant historical events, terminology, and more.

Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera, Celia Moscote (Illustrations) BOOM! Box

A NEW GRAPHIC NOVEL ADAPTATION OF THE BESTSELLING BOOK! Juliet Milagros Palante is leaving the Bronx and headed to Portland, Oregon. She just came out to her family and isn’t sure if her mom will ever speak to her again. But don’t worry, Juliet has something kinda resembling a plan that’ll help her figure out what it means to be Puerto Rican, lesbian and out. See, she’s going to intern with Harlowe Brisbane – her favorite feminist author, someone’s who’s the last work on feminism, self-love and lots of of ther things that will help Juliet find her ever elusive epiphany. There’s just one problem – Harlowe’s white, not from the Bronx and doesn’t have the answers. Okay, maybe that’s more than one problem but Juliet never said it was a perfect plan… Critically-acclaimed writer Gabby Rivera adapts her bestselling novel alongside artist Celia Moscote in an unforgettable queer coming-of-age story exploring race, idenrity and what it means to be true to your amazing self. even when the rest of the world doesn’t understand.

A Curse of Roses by Diana Pinguicha Entangled Teen

With just one touch, bread turns into roses. With just one bite, cheese turns into lilies.

There’s a famine plaguing the land, and Princess Yzabel is wasting food simply by trying to eat. Before she can even swallow, her magic—her curse—has turned her meal into a bouquet. She’s on the verge of starving, which only reminds her that the people of Portugal have been enduring the same pain.

If only it were possible to reverse her magic. Then she could turn flowers…into food.

Fatyan, a beautiful Enchanted Moura, is the only one who can help. But she is trapped by magical binds. She can teach Yzabel how to control her curse—if Yzabel sets her free with a kiss.

As the King of Portugal’s betrothed, Yzabel would be committing treason, but what good is a king if his country has starved to death?

With just one kiss, Fatyan is set free. And with just one kiss, Yzabel is yearning for more.

She’d sought out Fatyan to help her save the people. Now, loving her could mean Yzabel’s destruction.

Based on Portuguese legend, this #OwnVoices historical fantasy is an epic tale of mystery, magic, and making the impossible choice between love and duty…

New Releases on Dec. 8th

A Universe of Wishes: A We Need Diverse Books Anthology edited by Dhonielle Clayton Random House Children’s Books

In the fourth collaboration with We Need Diverse Books, fifteen award-winning and celebrated diverse authors deliver stories about a princess without need of a prince, a monster long misunderstood, memories that vanish with a spell, and voices that refuse to stay silent in the face of injustice. This powerful and inclusive collection contains a universe of wishes for a braver and more beautiful world.

Authors include: Samira Ahmed, Libba Bray, Dhonielle Clayton, Zoraida Córdova, Tessa Gratton, Kwame Mbalia, Anna-Marie McLemore, Tochi Onyebuchi, Mark Oshiro, Natalie C. Parker, Rebecca Roanhorse, Victoria Schwab, Tara Sim, Nic Stone, and a to-be-announced debut author/short-story contest winner.

New Releases on Dec. 15th

Oculta (A Forgery of Magic #2) by Maya Motayne Balzer + Bray

After joining forces to save Castallan from an ancient magical evil, Alfie and Finn haven’t seen each other in months. Alfie is finally stepping up to his role as heir and preparing for an International Peace Summit, while Finn is travelling and revelling in her newfound freedom from Ignacio.

That is, until she’s unexpectedly installed as the new leader of one of Castallan’s powerful crime families. Now one of the four Thief Lords of Castallan, she’s forced to preside over the illegal underground Oculta competition, which coincides with the summit and boasts a legendary prize.

Just when Finn finds herself back in San Cristobal, Alfie’s plans are also derailed. Los Toros, the mysterious syndicate responsible for his brother’s murder, has resurfaced—and their newest target is the summit. And when these events all unexpectedly converge, Finn and Alfie are once again forced to work together to follow the assassins’ trail and preserve Castallan’s hopes for peace with Englass.

But will they be able to stop these sinister foes before a new war threatens their kingdom?

This Is How We Fly by Anna Meriano Philomel Books

17-year-old vegan feminist Ellen Lopez-Rourke has one muggy Houston summer left before college. She plans to spend every last moment with her two best friends before they go off to the opposite ends of Texas for school. But when Ellen is grounded for the entire summer by her (sometimes) evil stepmother, all her plans are thrown out the window.

Determined to do something with her time, Ellen (with the help of BFF Melissa) convinces her parents to let her join the local muggle Quidditch team. An all-gender, full-contact game, Quidditch isn’t quite what Ellen expects. There’s no flying, no magic, just a bunch of scrappy players holding PVC pipe between their legs and throwing dodgeballs. Suddenly Ellen is thrown into the very different world of sports: her life is all practices, training, and running with a group of Harry Potter fans.

Even as Melissa pulls away to pursue new relationships and their other BFF Xiumiao seems more interested in moving on from high school (and from Ellen), Ellen is steadily finding a place among her teammates. Maybe Quidditch is where she belongs.

But with her home life and friend troubles quickly spinning out of control–Ellen must fight for the future that she wants, now she’s playing for keeps. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Cost of Living || Morgan & Erin

TIMING: Before Lydia’s death

PARTIES: @corpse--diem & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan seeks comfort from a friend who understands a little about murder and revenge.

CONTAINS: two sad gays

Morgan had never bemoaned her inability to drink more. She had almost dropped the large bottle of bourbon she’d brought for Erin out of spite on the way over. But it stayed tight in her grip as she shambled to her friend’s apartment and knocked on the door. When it opened, she said nothing, but sank, almost as if falling, into Erin’s chest, hoping she’d catch her. “Everything...is going...to shit,” she said. Her words were muffled on account of being mumbled into Erin’s shirt, but the heavy weariness in her tone filled in whatever got lost. Morgan just managed to pull herself upright again. “I’m honestly not even sure how much to tell you because I am so fucking tired of losing friends right now. But, you know, hi. And uh—” She lifted the bourbon. “Congrats. Careful, she’s heavier than I make her look.”

There was a flurry of Morgan and leftover glitter trailing in from the hallway the moment Erin opened the door. “Hey there dollfa--oof,” she started to welcome her friend, and did her best to catch her with the one good arm she had and braced still healing ribs for impact. The collapsed hug took a little bit of her breath but from the exhaustion and disarray in Morgan’s voice, Erin knew it was more than worth it. She gave the woman a hard squeeze anyway, rubbing her arm, her own face riddled with empathy and understanding. “Honestly, there’s little that can surprise me anymore, so this is a safe space. Say as much of your peace as you need to.” A small smirk lifted the corner of her lips at Morgan’s offering. “That helps. A lot. Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about top shelf.” Benefits of dating a mysteriously wealthy woman, she supposed, remembering the car Deirdre bought Blanche and the apartment and dog she’d given Nic. Ushering her friend inside, she lamented the fact that she didn’t have any spare eyeballs or hearts or something for her friend to munch on for the first time since she’d given up the organ business. “Now. Please, sit down, tell me all about it,” she said, gesturing towards the couch as she grabbed a glass from the kitchen.

Morgan followed Erin’s urging and collapsed onto the couch, ragdoll style. “No one understands what I’m doing. Or--okay, Deirdre understands what I’m doing. There’s this tortured, maybe-evil vampire who sometimes understands what I’m doing. But everyone else I’ve brought into this, my friends--friend I asked over and over if they were sure and if they could handle it--either don’t want anything to do with it, or they’ve decided to take matters into their own hands and--” She scrubbed her eyes clean before the tears burning behind them could fall. “The person I thought was one of my closest friends tried to steal my exorcism ingredients. After they hatched a plan with the ghost I’m after. The ghost that killed me in the street. That murdered one of my students and endangered the rest of them. Oh, and get this! She’s my great-great grandmothers’s ex! Which means I was cursed from birth and then murdered over a shitty nineteenth century lesbian drama!” She slumped over, holding her head in her hands.”Listen,” she groaned, “Before I get too cozy with the rest of my bullshit, I need you to be very, very honest with me: are you going to want throw me out for wanting to wreck the ghost who destroyed me and my family over the past one hundred twenty whatever years? Because I can just go, if this is making you uncomfortable. It’s not like I can get drunk with you anyway.”

There wasn’t much to do but listen once Morgan started. Truly started. Collapsing at the door was only a small taste of what Morgan needed to spill out, like a pot of boiling water no longer able to contain its contents. Erin knew that feeling all too well. There was more than a few familiar pings that went off as she spoke, actually and most of them weren’t pleasant. “If you try to tell me you don’t know the answer to that, I actually will throw you out,” Erin said firmly, turning enough on the couch so Morgan had no other option than to face her. Her voice softened slightly. “Constance deserves what’s coming to her and you deserve to be the one to end it. But this—“ she gestured vaguely towards Morgan, “the fights, the lows, things going wrong, people dying and getting hurt. People won’t look at you the same and your relationships’ll change. That’s part of the Big Time Take Back My Life Revenge package. And it feels like shit.” She paused, reaching for her forearm gently.  “I support you no matter what, okay? But that’s part of this and something you have to accept and live with when it’s over.”

Morgan laughed through her tears. “Are you sure everything she did isn’t suddenly invalidated by her being a ghost or being young? Because some people seem to feel that way, and I didn’t realized that over a century’s worth of being magically ground up and spat out or being murdered was some kind of conditional thing, nevermind what average standards of adulthood were in the 1890’s, or life expectancy, or anything other than her stupid Little Coven on the Prairie face.” She dragged her hands through her hair, trying to brace herself for the worst. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I know you’ve...you’ve done something incredible and hard and awful and you are so much stronger and more free now, even if not everyone sees that. And I just want some of that control back. Even a little. I want the last word on how that ends. And I...I hate it so much but I don’t know how close I even can be with someone who won’t try to understand how important and personal this is. I just didn’t think it would be so much.” She finally looked at Erin again, searching her face for disapproval, for hesitation. “And then there’s the personal life stuff but I think we, uh, should have a round of you stuff first. The way you sound, I don’t guess it’s all been victory laps and roses since you killed Roy.”

Erin softened only slightly when Morgan brought up the ghost’s age. Being a ghost didn’t matter much to her - if they had conscious thought and free will, and knew better, then it was free game to right some wrongs. Right? Still, she felt herself paling at Morgan’s compliments. “Maybe. A part of me feels better but a part of me doesn’t either? I’m not trying to sound preachy but that’s all I’m trying to say. You gain and regain some things but you lose things too. Some of those things you can’t get back.” It wasn’t exactly the same as Morgan’s situation but the core of it, even in a general sense, was something that felt unfortunately familiar. Roy had destroyed her family just as much as Constance had Morgan’s. A tight-lipped, wry smile crossed her lips at Morgan’s question and she leaned forward to grab her drink again. She raised her brows and took a sip. “What do you mean? I’m thriving.” Another sip emptied the glass and the bourbon went burned smoothly down her throat. She poured herself some more, a little apologetic that Morgan couldn’t partake. Sounded like she needed a few glasses herself right now. “I got what I wanted,” she nodded, giving a dry laugh. “Roy’s dead, my friends are in literal pieces, my house and business are still half-ash, my boyfriend’s gone and my best friend just blocked me from her life. Hopefully that’s not a taste of what you might end up with. Learn from my mistakes?” She offered before knocking back another long sip.

Morgan watched Erin drink enviously. Sometimes she could go for a day or two without missing her life, but seeing Erin’s nerves unclench as the liquid sloshed down her throat, the way she slumped into the cushions, actually taking in the comfort of softness, reminded Morgan of how much she’d lost and how much everyone who pretended to get it or understand that things ‘sucked’ or were ‘unfair’ had no fucking clue. But she wasn’t circling the drain so hard that she couldn’t catch the exhaustion in Erin’s voice. “Literal pieces? You and Nic, Marley--what? Okay, first of all, whatever edgelord bullshit Marley is pulling right now is not your fault. If she’s going to push people away and turn into a toxic asshole, that’s her problem, not yours. I mean, I’m sorry it hurts, and it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it, but I don’t think it’s you, Erin.” Morgan grabbed one of the pillows on Erin’s couch and squIshed it over her stomach, digging her fingers in until it looked ready to burst. “I know it wasn’t perfect, nothing is perfect,” she said quietly. “But I do think it was right. And maybe if more people had been pushed into such an awful, desperate situation, they wouldn’t be so quick to decide they know best.” Morgan certainly didn’t trust anyone except for Deirdre with the true price of eradicating Constance. Miriam wouldn’t bat an eyelash,but their last talk had been so complicated, and she wanted Miriam to understand a life with as little violence as possible. It wouldn’t be fair to keep asking her to sink into the dark with her just because she was already there and deeper. Erin had killed in the name of her cause, and Roy was just as dangerously persistent as Constance. But the methodology of killing him hadn’t been important. Holding her secret even tighter than the pillow across her chest, Morgan lifted her gaze to meet Erin’s. “I don’t know what it’s worth to you, but I will not stop being your friend just because you decided your life was worth more than the law or other people’s comfort. I believe in what you did. I’m sorry it’s...that it’s hard.” She knew hard too. She looked at it every day she checked in with the exorcist, insisting she had a plan for the source and could do it herself. “Is there anything I can do…?” She asked quietly.

Erin couldn’t help the snorting laugh when the word “edgelord” popped up into the conversation, nor could she help the wave of despair that followed it. Marley was tough, had a flair for the dramatics, sure, but she had also been the closest thing Erin had to a best friend she’d had in a decade. And Nic - well, that one still felt too fresh and raw to poke at yet. But Morgan’s presence and words alone were a calming salve she needed more than she realized. “The accident really messed her up. Big time. I know it’s not okay, the way she’s handling this and the way she’s treating me for it. She signed up for this and she pushed me out of the way so I wouldn’t die. But I don’t know that I’d be handling it well either. I just--I have to give her some time, you know? She’ll come around.” Probably. She has to, she thought, circling the top of her glass with her index finger. And if she didn’t? Erin wasn’t ready to contemplate that just yet. Morgan’s next words hit harder than she was prepared for and only furthered to cement how deeply Morgan understood what she was going through right now. She was one of the few who truly could.

She glanced over, that familiar burn tingling behind her eyes and she reached for one of the hands that threatened to tear apart her throw pillow. “Hey, me too, okay?” she nodded, squeezing her cold fingers hard. “I promise you’re stuck with me.” It was a weird promise to make, and not one Erin often promised anyone, but the dedication and loyalty Morgan had shown her throughout this entire thing had been unparalleled and that was a rare thing to have in her life. She’d be an idiot to let that fall to the wayside. “Just sitting here and listening to be whine about my life is all a girl can really ask for.” The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile. “Whatever you need from me too, you know. You’ve got it.” She raised a brow, tilting her head. “And hey, get me an iron rod and some salt and I can punch some ghosts for you too. I’m not above punching a murderous ghost-brat if the situation calls for it.”

Morgan couldn’t fault Erin for standing by her friend, even if she thought everything would be much simpler with Marley Stryder left in the dust. She was a person, complicated and pitiful and capable of more than just harm. But she was also a person who complicated Morgan’s life considerably, and had now hurt three people Morgan cared for. She gave Erin a squeeze and said, “If you say so. I hope she comes through, for your sake.” Morgan didn’t feel convinced for a minute, but Erin deserved a better friend than that. Injury or not, Marley could afford to at least be more communicative about the shit she was grappling with.

Morgan smiled at Erin’s reassurance and swallowed back the urge to cry again. “That means a lot, you know. I’m...stars, I’m just so tired of this. And of people not understanding. If I can just get it over with…” Even with the human cost, she could finally be free of everything. “And the last thing I want is for you to end up as part of Constance’s next body count. She’s not afraid to murder to get to me, and I have enough blood on my hands. But maybe next time we go out I’ll give you some iron knuckles or a big ol’l thing of salt to hang onto.” She snorted through her tears. “At least after all these years I have a salt pistol now. It’s kind of cool until you remember it’s only good for one thing.” She wiped her face and leaned into her friend’s shoulder. “But there is...I don’t know if you can do anything, is the thing, but maybe you might know someone after the whole...Roy mess. But the guy Felix left in charge of my decap isn’t so great with the timely deliveries. Smaller loads, and tighter timelines, like down to the wire. And you’ve never seen me how...the way I get sometimes. If you can give me a name, some other hookup or back up avenue I can look into so I don’t lose my fucking mind on top of anything else, that would be pretty swell, not gonna lie.”

Erin had a feeling Morgan wouldn’t quite understand her attachment or commitment to Marley. She hadn’t seen the side of Marley that remained on her side through the entire Roy ordeal, who’d thrown herself in the line of fire when Erin had been dangerously close to meeting her maker. It wasn’t something she could explain either. Whether she liked it or not, Marley was too important and too close to her now to toss aside. “One can only hope with her,” she teased gently.

“Oh, Morgan,” she chuckled a little, holding her friend close when she began to dissolve into a mess of tears, trying to fight back the ones Morgan’s words were slowly edging out of her.  God, she didn’t want to cry. She was so tired of crying and moping around this apartment, moving from her bed to the couch and back, even if that’s all her body was telling her she was capable of lately. “A salt pistol? Have you ever used it?” She smirked, raising a brow. “I could totally go for those iron knuckles though, if you get a chance. It could be multipurpose. Ghosts aren’t the only things that need punching,” she laughed, but only for a moment, Morgan’s next question slowly dawning on her like a slow dread building. Morgan had mentioned her medication before, and that Felix had been her prior hookup. And now she needed a new hookup. Her request wasn’t an unreasonable one, and if there was anything Erin could do to ease even a little bit of Morgan’s plight, she’d jump at it. But diving back into that mess? Reaching out to contacts she thought she’d never have to speak to again? She tensed unintentionally, straightening her back, but tried to relax again and rested her cheek on top of Morgan’s head. “Yeah. Sure. I can’t make any promises. I know I was in that world and I know a few people I can contact but if that’s what you need, then I’ll see what I can do.” She glanced down for a moment, straining to pull a smile onto her face, reaching down to lightly tap Morgan’s nose with her index finger. “And if it means one less thing you’ve gotta worry about dollface, I’ll be glad to.”

“I’ve fired it a couple times, actually,” Morgan sniffled, managing a small grin. “I actually got Constance in the head with one once. It was pretty great in the moment.” In the fallout, not so much, but she was trying to make herself feel better, not worse. “A couple other times too. In uh, in a car chase, actually. I didn’t get her, but maybe you’d be proud of me, leaning out the window like I was in a movie. And I wasn’t even on mobster brains or anything.” Her smile flickered wider for a moment and she gave Erin a squeeze to the extent of, I’m okay, I’ll be okay.

She was still touching her when Erin tensed. “I didn’t know who else to ask,” she said. “I just need a name, a jumping off point. And I can pay. If that’s a question with anyone you talk to. Deirdre covers me and you know she’s good for it, and I’ll take...fuck, I take whatever the price is. I don’t want to be gouged by some asshole, but I need to be myself or none of this is worth anything.” She caught Erin’s finger and hooked it around her own, as she made a soft, wet laugh. “Thanks, dollface,” she whispered. “I can come with, if you want some back up. I think I made quite an impression that one time. And you know I’m a lot tougher than I look, even if I am kind of a crybaby.” With Erin’s assurances, Morgan deflated with relief and finally stretched out, feet on the coffee table. “So what’s this about Nic, and the other stuff? Was that...part of the things you lost because of what you did for yourself?” She gave her a little nudge and lowered her voice. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to be tough gal, shit together Erin all the time with me either.”

It wasn’t funny, but it really was and Erin let out an abrupt laugh at the image of Morgan running around with a salt pistol, hanging out of car windows and shooting ghosts in the head like some tiny badass, peppy zombie with a mission. “I’m sorr--no, actually, I’m not sorry. That’s amazing,” she managed between hard giggles shaking her shoulders. “Why do I never get to see you do any of this badass stuff? How is this fair?” She shook her head, letting out a long breath as she relaxed a little further into the couch. “Promise you’ll teach me how to use one of those things one day?”

Erin could hear the hint of desperation in Morgan’s voice and knew this wasn’t something she was asking lightly. Asking your reluctant friend to reach into shady contact rolodex for illegal supernatural drugs wasn’t usually high on anyone’s list. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. But If I need your assist, you better come packing heat, you hear?” She teased slightly, trying to hide the dread building. She wasn’t looking forward to stepping back into that world but there were a few people she could reach to who didn’t want her dead for what she accomplished with Roy. For all Morgan had done for her, this was the last she could do. She squeezed Morgan’s hand, relieved at possibly settling some of Morgan’s nerves. Without thinking, Erin shifted only to grab her drink again and settled back against Morgan and the couch. Fiddled with it between her hands anxiously. “I don’t know--” she shook her head as she struggled to put it to words. “Getting here took everything I had. My home, my work. Did a number on my relationships too. Living with everything I had to do just--I thought I was ready for it, and I forced myself to be, but actually living with it makes me feel like I didn’t win anything at all.” Felt weird to say that outloud. Morgan was the first person she’d been able to open up so honestly about where she landed with the fall out and god did it feel good to know that she’d heard. Really heard. “The Nic thing--it’s unrelated to everything. He had to go on some hunter mission… thing, and didn’t know when, or even if he’d be back. And right now I can’t even think about leaving. I’m trying to rebuild, you know? The timing just--it sucks.” She took a deep, wavering breath when she felt the warmth of tears pushing forward down her cheeks and smothered them with a long swig of bourbon. “It really, really fucking sucks.”

“I guess you don’t hang out with me enough,” Morgan teased. “But I guess I could show you a thing or two. Not sure how helpful a salt round would be since your eyeballs aren’t dead enough to see ghosts, but we’ll have a good time. Probably wouldn’t hurt, knowing how to pop off a few rounds in a pinch. I don’t think White Crest has shooting ranges in every corner of town like they do in Texas, but there’s gotta be something in a place with this many hunters. If you want a badass date, you just have to say the word and I’m there, okay?”

Maybe that date would be soon, maybe it wouldn’t. There was an awful gravity to Erin’s words, like she was speaking from the bottom of a pit. And what she said, that she didn’t feel like anything had been won and therefore felt no satisfaction or relief or...anything that Morgan craved at the end of this bullshit tunnel. And it was so unfair, for Erin to lose someone she should have been able to lean on the most at a time like this. Morgan was glad Nic had gotten out of this cruel place, at least for a while, but the leaving itself made her wonder if White Crest really was more cursed than she’d ever been.

“Hey. You can rest now, Erin,” Morgan whispered, watching the gleam of tears build up behind her friend’s eyes. “Maybe it doesn’t feel good right now, but you can rest. It’s okay.” She went still, still watching, waiting to see if Erin would believe her. Then she said, “What’s going to make you feel like you can stop running, or hiding, or whatever else you’re trying to tell yourself? I’m good for more than just talking or fighting, you know.”

Erin smiled at the prospect. “You got it. It’s a date,” she promised. It’d be good to do something with Morgan that wasn’t backed by pure necessity for once. Whether it was someone owing someone a favor or needing a shoulder to cry on. It wasn’t often she had the opportunity anymore to simply enjoy herself with her friends. Had all the time in the world now for that, didn’t she?

Morgan’s words were soft and kind and didn’t help much in the way of keeping those tears behind her eyes. Her question was a good one and it gave Erin pause as she wondered it herself. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, shaking her head, clutching the glass tightly in her hands. It felt like she’d been running and fighting for so long now, she almost didn’t know how to stop. How to make the cogs and wheels in her head run at half speed or allow her mind and body the break they so desperately needed. “I’m still so… angry. And unsatisfied.” And lost. A large part of her never truly believed she was making it out of that whole thing alive.

Her eyes jumped up to Morgan’s suddenly. “God, this sounds terrible doesn’t it? We literally just talked about how we’re both going through this, and here I am making the endgame look pitiful and hopeless.” She rubbed her eyes, letting her fingers run down the side of her face as she took a deep breath. “It can’t feel like this forever though, you know? It’ll get better. I’m really leaning into this idea that destroying everything so you can rebuild, properly rebuild your life, will make it worth it. Because it has to be. And that’s all I can do at this point.”

Morgan nodded through a tight smile. “It’s okay. I’d rather you be honest than lie to make me feel better,” she said. And it would be different for her, right? She hadn’t lost her home like Erin had, but she had her zombie body and she had her mother’s box of trauma sitting in the closet. She hadn’t thought to dump any of it at the feet of her mother’s ghost, and it was too late now. That door was as likely to open again as Morgan’s magic. She had lost more than plenty and she had everything to win by seeing this through. Even with a little blood on her hands-- Morgan had come too far to make this stop, right? She would get to after and better and so would Erin. They just needed the dust to settle for a fucking minute.

“And it will be,” she said, firmly enough that it would sound like she believed it already.

“But what about right now? In my experience, you can either dance it out or cry it out. Where, you know, cry doubles as screaming. What are you feeling like tonight, doll?”

It will be. Erin could only nod and placed a hand on top of Morgan’s. Maybe it would be different for Morgan, maybe she’d get the satisfaction of putting to rest a lifetime of atrocities and pain for good when Constance was finally gone. It was all Erin wanted for her. It was what she deserved, frankly. And if this was how she had to go about getting it, getting her hands a little dirty, she could support her just as much as Morgan had. “It will be,” she repeated, more confident, even if it was partially pure bravado.

Morgan’s question rolled around in her mind as she took a long, slow sip. What did she want to do right now? She wanted to drink. She looked at the still nearly full bottle. Check. More crying sounded terrible and yelling wasn’t really her thing if she could prevent it. But she understood what Morgan was asking of her. A smirk lit up her features and she downed the rest of her glass. “Wait here,” was the only thing she said before unfurling herself from Morgan and the couch, moving with a sudden fire under her feet. When she reappeared with a box of clinking dishware, there was a pep in her step and an old field hockey stick under her arms. “Grab that bottle?” She nodded towards the bourbon. Didn’t wait for Morgan before hightailing it for the front door and took to the stairs that led to the roof. “Did I ever tell you I used to play field hockey in high school?” She let the box fall gently to the ground once they made their way up and she took a breath, that mischievous grin still lighting up her face. “And my mom left me some of the ugliest China I’ve ever seen in my life.” She dug into the box, pulling out the first mug her fingers touched. She’d been holding onto them for sentimental value she supposed but now? They just seemed… heavy. Unnecessary. “What’s that one lady say?” She asked, eyeing the mug as she held the stick up, lining up a trajectory. “If it doesn’t bring you joy—“ she tossed it into the air, swung, and shattered it into a dozen pieces across the rooftop.

That actually did feel pretty damn good. She laughed, really laughed, letting out a loud holler of a cheer for herself. Offered the stick to Morgan and reached for the bottle. “You’ve gotta try this.”

It took Morgan a while to put the pieces together. Bourbon, made sense. Field hockey stick, ugly china? Less so. But, “Uuh...okay, sure!” Outside, the world was full of stars and the sweet glow of light pollution from the common, like a candle had been struck and nestled under invisible glass. It was so picturesque, like a Hallmark Card. You wouldn’t guess how many people died or lost their lives and souls. You wouldn’t guess just how thoroughly you could be buried under the worst bullshit. Morgan came out of her thoughts just in time to see Erin taking the china and swinging it to pieces. “Ho-ly shit!” Morgan gaped. This wasn’t quite either of the avenues she’d thought of, but she’d be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t fantasized about playing another round of ‘zombie smash’ in the middle of her un-life crisis. And Erin’s smile was bigger than Morgan had seen it in a long time. She held out a finger for pause. “Oh, dollface, you gotta see this first,” she said, laughing with pride. She took one of the fragile teacups, held it up as if for a magic demonstration, and crushed it between her hands. “Now you see it, now you--don’t!” She laughed again, pleased with herself, then took the field hockey stick from Erin. “I don’t know why I’m surprised you were a jock butch in school,” she said, twirling it like a baton. “Crazy to think we thought a little lunchroom drama was the end of the world, huh?” She tried to repeat Erin’s move of tossing the dish into the air and hitting it to pieces, but the plate fell to the floor before she could take a swing. “I was more of an academic decathlon kind of kid,” she winced. Nerds, at least back in their day, were not especially known for their coordination. She took another, set it on the floor. “But what about...this!” She gave it a good thwack across the roof, cheering for herself when it shattered on one of the pipes. “Fuck everythiiiiing!” She cupped her hands like a sports announcer calling a goal or a point or whatever the hell it was. Another swing, another crash. “Let’s go team!”

“Oh, okay. Now you’re just showing off.” Erin cocked her head and laughed harder, watching the teacup practically disintegrate in her fingers. “That’s goth-butch-jock, thank you very much,” she corrected. God. It was even wilder to think that everything she was experiencing--the supernatural half of it, at least--was going on around her even back then. Weird things happened in White Crest, that had always been known. But there was no way she could have known what those weird things were or that she was living smack dab in the middle of it all. How she had survived this long unawares truly had been a wonder. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You’ve got some pretty strong nerd vibes,” she laughed, clapping and cheering along when she smashed the next piece. Laughter and the sound of shattering, destruction and joy existing hand in hand, filling the night air. She grabbed another cup, running her fingers along the smooth china. Broken things could still be good. “You’re more capable than you give yourself credit for though, you know.” Erin motioned for Morgan to get ready again, positioning herself at an angle where the blast radius wouldn’t nail her in the forehead. “Alright, you’ve got this, Morgan. Just don’t take your eyes off the prize.” When Morgan was ready, she started counting slowly. “1… 2… 3!”

[thankskenpenders]

I’ve been asked a few times to talk about Ken’s scrapped story plans, similar to what I did with Bollers. I haven’t done this because I didn’t have a good source for Ken’s plans beyond various scraps of information scattered across his Twitter

But guess what: I just found an old forum post where he shared his pitches for Sonic #160 onwards

So, before moving on to Ian’s first issue tomorrow... let’s talk about those

SONIC: ALL MY TOMORROWS... (SONIC #160 & #161) - King Sonic discovers he’s returned to the scene of one of his greatest battles and possibly the cause of his problems in the future. The problem is that no one can see or hear him, and any attempt to take action results in someone suspecting a supernatural cause. When he returns to the future, he discovers a changed world on top of having failed to change events in the past. As a last resort, Rotor sends Nicole into the past after having created her.

God, this suuucks. This sounds like such a nothing story. King Sonic dicks around in the past and can’t change anything, and then Rotor just decides to create Nicole and send her to the past, as depicted all the way back in the Sonic: In Your Face special. Personally, I don’t think this is a story that needed to be told

SONIC: LAST TANGO IN KNOTHOLE (SONIC #162) - Uncle Chuck and Rosie emerge on the town for a real date, and it’s up to Sonic to play guardian angel and prevent Robotnik’s stealth-bots from spoiling the happy couple’s evening.

Bad!

SONIC: GIRLS NIGHT OUT (SONIC #163) - Some teasing from Ash results in Mina and Amy Rose making their way into Robotnik’s stronghold to prove they’re just as capable on their own as any Freedom Fighter (re: Sonic). When Sally hears what they’re up to, she and Sonic head out after them, only to discover Rouge and Nic the Weasel are on the scene, each looking to abscond with the rare gem that will power Robotnik’s latest weapon.

Almost every story Ken has ever written to shine the spotlight on the girls has ended up being incredibly sexist and horrible, so I have zero faith in this one.

SONIC: THIS ROBIAN, THIS HEDGEHOG (SONIC #164) - When Sonic overhears how much his father resents his condition, unable to enjoy a “normal” life with his wife, Sonic risks all to find a cure. With the aid of his Uncle Chuck, Sonic makes his way into the Robotnik’s nano-tech labs and retrieves what he hopes is the answer to the problem. Unfortunately, Jules is still a Robian at the end, but thanks to nano-technology, he now looks more like his old self.

This one doesn’t sound too bad, but I also don’t think that Jules really needed to be restored to his biological form

SONIC: LAST MAN STANDING (SONIC #165) - Antoine pops THE question to Bunnie. Unfortunately, she’s not able to respond before the gang has to go off on a mission to shut down Robotnik’s power plant before a meltdown in the core. While Sonic does all he can to ensure a safe ending for all, circumstances dictate a sacrifice on someone’s part, and Snively ends up proving he had more moxie than anyone ever gave him credit for.

SONIC: FALL-OUT (SONIC #166) Sonic is racked with grief, feeling responsible for the death of Snively, and drives everyone that much harder when preparing for their next mission. As their assignment unfolds, everyone becomes uneasy as the possibility dawns that Sonic could cross a line he never did before. For the Freedom Fighters, this moral quandary becomes even more difficult when it’s discovered the enemy’s latest plan could result in the extinction of every lifeform on Mobius.

I don’t know what’s funnier: Antoine’s attempting to propose to Bunnie and being interrupted so that Ken can prolong the drama... or Sonic being racked with grief over a heroic sacrifice made by SNIVELY

SONIC: NEW WORLD ORDER (SONIC #167) - Sonic finally is informed of the duties of his new rank: Gentleman-At-Arms. His first task: accompany Princess Sally to Station Square as she sets up Knothole’s first embassy in a foreign land. Naturally, there’s some trouble before the group departs, including Sally’s displeasure when Sonic’s new rank means he can overrule her when it comes to security, as Antoine’s duties as head of the Royal Guard conflict with his proposal to Bunnie.

Ah, just what we needed! Another male character who can pull rank over Sally!

SONIC: OUR HEDGEHOG IN STATION SQUARE (SONIC #168) - Now that Princess Sally, Sonic, Tails and Rotor have arrived in Station Square for the duration, Sonic finds getting around town is more awkward than he likes, thanks to Evil Sonic making the scene. But if Sonic can’t provoke his bad doppelganger into a fight one way, perhaps scoring with Rouge might do the trick. Now if only Sally doesn’t get into the act.

BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD

SONIC: A DISH BEST SERVED COLD (SONIC #169 & #170) - Knuckles and the Chaotix show up at Station Square, mean and spoiling for a fight with the group that attempted to invade Angel Island. Unfortunately, with the new alliance pact in place between Knothole and Station Square, that puts Sonic on a collision course with the embattled echidna.

Station Square... invaded Angel Island? When, exactly? I didn’t skip any plot synopses here, what is Penders talking about

When I resumed writing SONIC as a main feature with issue #145, I made it clear I was aiming to correct the fiasco Karl foisted upon fandom with the infamous slap. Both Mike and I were determined to correct what mainly perceived at the time as the worst moment in the book's history. However, neither of us saw that getting corrected over the course of an issue or two or three. Rather, it was decided that Sonic would play the field for awhile, allowing him to discover exactly why Sally was always the girl for him.

I like how Ken really throws Karl under the bus here by calling the slap “the worst moment in the book’s history” and then goes on to explain how he was going to fix it by having Sonic “playing the field”

Yeah, I’ve gotta be real here, this sounds like a pretty bad stretch of comics. We dodged a bullet

[calpalirwin]

Choices

Summary: Ashton Irwin thought he had everything he needed in life in the form of his daughter. Funny the difference a choice can make.

A/N: After 64 pages and 32k words broken up over 8 chapters and 1 epilogue, we are done folks! Thanks for reading!

Content: Don’t worry, it’s worth your while

Word Count: ~800

And away, and away we go!

Epilogue

~Three Years Later~

I watched as Cassidy ran about the field, concentration etched in every inch of her little face. Her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth, and strands of dirty blonde curls were already falling out of her ponytail. I made a mental note to fix it after her game was over as she gave the soccer ball in front of her a wild kick, sending it flying.

“Mom! Daddy!” she gasped, after the referee blew the whistle. “Did you see me?! I kicked it super hard, just like Uncle Cal showed me!”

“You did, love!” I praised, beaming proudly at her. “C’mon, Uncle Cal’s calling you guys.”

I sat in the grass behind Cassidy, trying to tame her sweaty curls back into the confines of her ponytail while Calum congratulated the team of third graders as they sipped on their juice pouches and munched on orange slices.

“Alright, love. You ready to go get some pizza?”

“Pizza!” Cassidy screeched with excitement, hoping up to her feet. “Mom, c’mon! Pizza!” Cassidy told her before skipping off towards my car.

I pushed myself up, one hand reaching for the hand that fit perfectly in mine. I couldn’t help the grin as I took notice of the ring that adorned her finger. I still couldn’t quite get it out of my head that she had been crazy enough to marry me. Just like the way her free hand resting gently across her abdomen that was slowly starting to swell still left me breathless. God, for a stupid man, I sure was a lucky one.

~~~

She shook her head sadly, turning to head into her own apartment. “Goodbye, Ashton.”

“You said you would talk through any concerns you had! Please, talk to me! Work through this with me! Don’t throw in the towel!” I hurled the words we had promised each other at Nic, hoping it’d be enough for her to turn back around.

Her body tensed and I felt even more regret and remorse wash over me for having sunk that low. But damn it, if I was going down, I was going down fighting. “Fine. Talk.”

I hooked my fingers under her chin and kissed her instead. I poured as much emotion into as I could: apologetic and passionate; a plea of utter desperation. “I choose you. My choice is you,” I whispered as I broke the kiss.

“You can’t just say that and act like it magically fixes everything!” she cried.

“I was scared! Okay! Is that what you want to hear?! You want me to be vulnerable with you?! I was scared! I was scared to let you in! I was scared to bring Taylor back into my life! And I know I said all those fears were because I was worried about Cass! But that’s only half of the truth! I was scared about this! I know I said I would be fine if we didn’t work out, but I lied, okay! And I know I look crazy screaming in a hallway, but I don’t care because damn it, I’m scared!”

Nic screamed back, neither of us caring if the neighbors or the whole damned world heard us. “I was scared too, Ash! I was scared of this happening! But, God, I didn’t think you’d blindside me!”

I sighed, giving in to the idea that I was fighting a losing battle. I didn’t even know why I thought I could convince her to stay in the first place. I hadn’t been good enough for Nic from the start, and we had only been kidding ourselves by pretending otherwise. “So that’s it? You’re not going to believe me when I say that she kissed me and I was pushing her off? That while yes, I’ve dreamt of that kiss for a long time, I never thought I would feel nothing when it actually happened?”

“You… you didn’t feel anything?”

“God no… I… I’m not going to make excuses for what happened. I’m not going to ask for you to forgive or understand it. I should’ve been smart enough to stop it before it happened. That’s on me. All I’m asking is for you to trust that my choice is you. And that you’ll choose me back.”

~~~

“Ash? Hello? Earth to Ash.” A shoulder knocked into me, pulling me back into the present. “Hey, glad you could join us. You look like you're a million miles away. Penny for your thoughts?”

I looked over the table at Cassidy, pizza sauce smeared across her mouth as she told Taylor all about her soccer game even though Taylor had been there herself. Taylor caught my gaze, arching an eyebrow eyebrow in expectation of my answer to the posed question.

Finally, I shifted my gaze to my right, at Nic, who stared back much like Taylor was, expecting some sort of answer to her question. I stretched my arm over the top off the booth to rest it across Nic’s shoulders. “Just thinking about how happy I am to be with my girls,” I answered truthfully. After all, they were my best choices.

__

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[a-dore]

NIC YOUR TAGS im going to CRY stop i love u so much ♡ ♡ ♡

hey it is the truth only 😌😌