#but we forgave him WAY too fast. why did the brothers take longer to forgive him that we did?? WE died!!!

[mammomlette]

thinking about how Belphie’s situation in s1 is so Blackbird (the song) coded

(Because I never stop thinking of lesson 16 and Belphie in season1 I could go on a word rampage about that arc.)

warnings: SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16 OBEY ME lesson 16 is its own warning guys

Notes: I basically just rewrote the s1 Belphie plot line. That’s it. It’s basically the exact same but written narratively lol. Also!! I plan on writing part 3 of the obey me as soulmate tropes (barb and dia are already done) but Solomon’s part is giving me such a creative block for some reason so it’s taking a while! Sorry!

Constructive criticism welcomed :)

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,”

Shouts for help echoed through the hallways of the House of Lamentation. Why did it seem nobody but you (and the man who tried stopping you from approaching the attic, Lucifer) could hear them?

You snook your way around the house, trying to avoid the stars visible from Lucifer’s doorway and other places you’ve seen him roam at night. Even if he was distracted listening to Levi’s TSL vinyl, you didn’t want to risk it. You were determined to go up to the attic and listen to the voice shouting for you to please help, so you could free whatever may be trapped up there or at least hear it out.

You thought for a moment his calls for help sounded akin to a blackbird singing a morning’s song, though there are no mornings in the eternal darkness of the devildom; only the dead of night forever.

“Take these broken wings and learn to fly,”

You carefully made your way up the stairs, “MC, finally, no one is going to stop you. Now’s your chance to climb the stairs.” How did this voice know your name? More importantly, why are they asking you for help? What got them up there in the first place?

Your internal questions halted when you finally came face to face with the person behind the caged door of the attic. He never said his name, however he did ask you for help, and who were you if not humane? You’re here as a human, after all. He instructed to you to make pacts with the six demon brothers, starting with Beelzebub, in order to gain the power to free him. Your heart hurt for the poor human who claimed to have been locked away for so long they’ve forgotten who they are and how long exactly they’ve been locked away.

Make pacts with my brothers, learn to set me free.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.”

Belphie has been waiting for so long, months now spent just sitting in the same room, air long turned stale. He could tell you exactly how many boards were on the floor and cobwebs were in the corners of the room. Of course, his brother had to lock him away. Of course, his brother chose Diavolo’s rule over his own little brother.

Finally, after so long, there was finally something. A human no less, who had finally managed to enter the attic. If it had to be a human who would save him, so what?

He had been waiting so long for this moment to arrive. A moment to be free again, and even a moment to seek revenge.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,”

All Belphie heard at night now was the voice of this human. It’s strange how much comfort its grown to bring him, given his plan. But the voice of his brothers and his dead twin would be much more comforting to hear, and his sister was a much more comforting presence.

He knows he won’t miss you when you’re gone, or else he just wouldn’t go through with it, he just wouldn’t continue to manipulate you into working to free him just for him to kill you. But he will miss the routine of having a concerned voice chirping at him in the dead of night while everyone else is asleep. He’s sure Beel will suffice.

“Take these sunken eyes and learn to see,”

At last the moment came, you had finally freed him, even if you weren’t there when the cage opened, he knows it was you. Had you finally made a pact with Lucifer? Is that why he’s free? Credit given where credit is due, you were surprisingly competent for a human. It’s a shame the fate that befalls you. The fate Belphie has the power of stopping, but chooses not to.

Your eyes were so tired he noticed in the brighter lighting of purgatory hall. Sunken and tarnished by dark bags. Was this the result of your late night visits to the attic? Had you just been working too hard? Who knows, I’d rather, who cares? Any pity he felt, he swallowed down and it was quickly drowned by his seething and growing hatred for your kind. Maybe in another life, he and Lilith would be sneaking down into the human world to watch you and your kin, but not anymore. You can’t teach him to see humans as more than vermin.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

A humans life is always only building up to death. It’s what every human spends their life anticipating, waiting for the sweet relief or curdling torture of death. Would you feel dread in your last moments? Perhaps irony? He never could grow fond enough of you to change his plans, but you did plant an invasive seed of interest in him. He hates how he wants to understand you now more than ever, how does the human mind and spirit face death? Are you different from the countless other humans he’s killed? Are you more accepting?

It’s sad to say that the only regret he has from killing you is not making it last long enough for you to express your final thoughts to him. If only he had dragged your death out longer, given you time and air to carefully pick out your last words, maybe even a last emotion shared just with him. The thought of wanting to be the one to see your dying face, hear your dying thoughts and feel your dying senses feels quite intimate for a murderer and the murdered. Maybe in another life you weren’t unfortunate enough to be born as a human. In another life, he thinks. He dwells on the ‘ifs’ too often.

It’s only natural for humans to die. They wait their entire life for that moment of freedom, really he gifted you by killing you while you were still well loved by those around you, his brothers. Oh, his brothers will be mad… they’ll get over it, in time. They can’t love you enough to stay mad at their sweet little brother, right?

[marshmallowprotection]

The ending of Saeran'AE would have been better if Saeyoung had beaten the PM to death with MC cheering him on in the corner (With detailed CG included and Saejoong screaming).

...Nah, let them join in too, Go for it! 👊🏻 hahaha.

Oh, that's absolutely what happened in the hospital and I think the only reason Vanderwood was with Saeyoung was to make sure that he didn't bludgeon Saejoong Choi to death. I'm certain many folks in that hospital turned a blind eye for sixty seconds.

I do not doubt what happened that day as soon as the Prime Minister left the room with Saeran and MC. I do not doubt how fast he was hit and taken down. Those facts are clear-cut in my mind. I... will say one thing, though, he willingly walked into the hospital hallway knowing that his son was going to beat the ever-loving fuck out of him. 

Don't get me wrong, Saejoong Choi is a piece of shit and deserves no praise for the bare minimum he owes his sons. But, he spent hours in Saeran's hospital room and we don't know what they talked about. I'll place a bet on Saeran scolding his father and telling him that if there is any remorse in his heart whatsoever, then he needs to do the right thing for Saeyoung and let Saeyoung be the one to not only take him down, but accept whatever punishment Saeyoung wants to dish out before that happens.

Saeran knows Saeyoung has a different view in life. His brother does not need to forgive their father, that's not what he needs to find any peace in his heart. Saeran forgave his father to learn how to forgive himself for what happened in Mint Eye... and Saeyoung deserves to hold onto his hate because it's not hurting him or anyone else (who doesn't deserve it, anyway).

He might not have had the opportunity to be with his brother since they were little kids, but if he knows anything about his brother? It’s that Saeyoung has always been just as afraid as he was. Saeyoung spent years… trying to be brave… trying to be strong… trying to be the adult he and Saeran needed because their parents were never going to do that for them.

Saeyoung has felt powerless his entire life, and Saeran knows his brother would never admit it.

I feel like that's why he pretended to be asleep for as long as he did in his hospital room. It wasn't about feeling strange around his brother after being separated for so long, nor was it just about the fact that they had different perspectives on life.

On that day, his procrastination to speak with his brother face to face wasn't about himself. It was about making sure his brother had the opportunity to reclaim his power. 

No longer will Saeyoung choke on fear, that’s what Saeran thinks. My brother won't have to be afraid anymore. My brother won't have to go out of his way to do everything he can to make sure we stay alive. My brother can take down the monster who has terrified us since we were kids, and in this way, he can finally have the life he deserves. My brother might want me to live a life where I have everything I could ever dream of, but I want him to have the same thing, and for him to have that, he needs to be the one to take down our dad. 

He knew what his brother needed more than anything. Saeyoung needed to put away their father with his own hands. He needed the chance to make sure that monster would never come after him or his father ever again. He needed to know that he would never have to be afraid ever again. There is no way for him to feel that way unless he is the one who personally makes sure his father can never see the light of day again.

Saeran fought to give Saeyoung what he needed by standing up to their father who came crawling back in the hospital to talk to Saeran after the day on the lake. I will never ever imagine that very scene any other way.

Saejoong didn't turn over a new leaf because Saeran gave him some understanding instead of hatred, and he says that himself. That man knew he would go to prison forever, but decided to face his sons one final time... for reasons we'll never know. I think he knew he was in a corner and it was only a matter of time until people took him in and he rotted away forever. But, we'll never know why he choose to face his illegitimate sons.

We will never know what was going on in that man's head. But, at least the very last thing he did for his sons was stand there and take everything they had to give. That is the least he could give them and God knows they deserve more... they deserve so much better than... than that man. But, hey, he laid there and let Saeyoung beat the shit out of him until he was bloody and bruised.

Saeran is the one who told his father to do it.

And, for whatever reason, Saejoong Choi let Saeyoung absolutely beat the shit out of him.

[helliontherapscallion]

Surprises (Sweet Betrayal Part 2)

Part 1     Part 3     Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, alcoholism, abuse (physical and mental), depression, suicidal thoughts

Word count: 3,587

A dash of madness is what’s needed to get things done. It was the thing that caused Manberg to rise from the ashes of its terrible leadership prior to Schlatt, and it was going to be the thing that fixes the aftermath of the meddling of your ‘brothers’. At least that's what you thought on the matter. 

It was a bit hard to form rational thought when reminders of your brothers were everywhere. The buildings that stood populating the city were built by them. The dents and scratches on the wood of the stage were caused by them. Your bloodstain on the concrete was caused by them. The burn scar that took up half of your face and the now clouded blind eye was caused by them. You couldn’t even look in the mirror without being reminded of them; it was like they followed you everywhere you went. Tormenting you with every step you took. With every breath you took you were breathing in the same putrid air they breathed. The air would be purified once you were done with them. 

The only person you actually trusted nowadays was Schlatt. Oftentimes he would yell at you in a drunken rage, telling you that you were useless and undeserving of love. His words hurt you unbelievably, but he would always apologize in the morning. He had hit you occasionally leaving bruises and a fear of anybody moving too fast, but he had always apologized to you so you brushed it off. He was the first person that had shown you actual love after all. He was still the loving man he was before the presidency. 

He would do the same to your other father Quackity. You both comforted each other after he would do that. He confessed to you one night through tears that you were the only thing tethering him to his marriage with Schlatt. It was something you couldn’t understand; why would he ever want to leave Schlatt when he would apologize to you two every single time? It wasn’t like he could control his alcoholism. It had a grip on him that he couldn’t shake. 

You weren’t there when Quackity had killed Schlatt, as you were roaming the streets of Manberg at the time, but you were there when he ran into you in a panic. 

You were walking past Niki’s deserted bakery with a skip in your step and a smile on your face. The sight of the broken glass and the looted remains of the building took away most of the stress that living in and governing Manberg brought you. The citizens and the cabinet had grown distrustful of you and Schlatt, making it hard for you to get any work done. You had taken up most of the responsibilities of the presidency due to Schlatt falling off the deep end with his alcoholism and truth be told everything was stressing you out. You needed to keep smiling, you’re never fully dressed without one. 

You came to a halt in front of the bakery, your hand reaching up to graze the scarred skin on the right side of your face. The once relaxed smile that gently stretched your lips turned strained. ‘Don’t cry, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!’ A soft voice sang in your mind, his light laughter reminiscent of happier times. He would not be happy with the path you’ve taken. Oh well, you liked who you were now; he just needs to put up with it when you see him again.

Your thoughts were interrupted by something, or rather someone, colliding with you. You were about to fall onto the glass-strewn pavement before someone caught you and pulled you into a tight embrace. You couldn’t see who it was, but their jacket smelled like a mixture of blood and cologne. Their shoulders were bouncing as they sobbed into your shoulder. Papá?

You felt his wings embrace you fully, much like they did during the festival. You awkwardly rubbed his back until he calmed down enough to pull away from you. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, face blotchy, and a swollen lip graced his face. Your dad was probably just drunk again. 

You tried your best to smile at him gently, the smile threatening to falter. “Papá? Is Dad drunk again?”

“We have to get you out of here, mijo.” He tried to grab your hand to pull you with him but you moved it out of the way. You needed to know what was happening. You didn’t like not knowing what was happening.

“Why do you have blood on you, where are you bleeding?” Schlatt’s never made you or Quackity bleed before, so this was new. He was probably drunker than he usually was. 

You watched as his dark brown eyes flicked down to his bloodied hands and clothes before they flicked back up looking more panicked. “It’s not mine. C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

This time, he firmly grabbed your hand and started to pull you towards the borders of Manberg. Towards Pogtopia. You weren’t ready to enact your plans for the brothers yet, so you dug your heels into the ground. That didn’t stop the man, in fact he pulled you close to his body and spread his wings to take off into the cloudy sky. Before he could, you pushed him away. 

“Papá, who’s blood is it?” You already knew, your voice was shaking and the smile had completely faded. Surely, he couldn’t be dead again, right? Quackity’s face told you all you needed to know. Schlatt was dead. 

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you whispered “what happened?”

“He- it doesn’t matter. Come with me, I’m leaving this place,” he spat out the last word with hatred. “It isn’t too late for you, Pogtopia-”

“Pogtopia? You’re seriously going to that pathetic excuse of a ‘country’?” You barked out a somewhat forced laugh, the smile finding its rightful place on your face. “Are you stupid? Why would you ever leave a nation as prosperous as Manberg?”

“Can’t you see? Look around you, this nation’s crumbling under Schlatt’s rule! How is that ‘prosperous’?”

“Did you hit your head or something? Our nation’s thriving under Schlatt’s leadership!”

“He isn’t even fucking leading! All he’s doing is getting drunk off his ass having you do all the dirty work! He’s using you, (y/n).”

“Shut the fuck up Quackity,” he flinched back slightly at the use of his first name being thrown about, “Dad’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you, you’re so stupid to just throw him away when he needs us the most.”

He put his hands on your shoulders and gripped them tightly to avoid you ripping yourself out of his grasp. He looked you dead in the eyes with the most sincerity you’ve ever seen from someone. “(Y/n), we tried to help him. We did our best, but he’s too far gone. He isn’t the person we knew; the presidency no, this nation, changes people. If you stay, he’s gonna… You have to come with me to Pogtopia. Your brothers-”

“They aren’t my brothers.”

“-Wilbur, Tommy, and everyone else that used to live in Manberg is on their side. You’ll get killed if you stay.”

You tilted your chin up and looked down at him with cold eyes and your signature smile. “Then so be it. I will see to it that anyone cowardly enough to run when things get the slightest bit tough will be taken care of,” his grip on your shoulders loosened for a moment in shock at your words. That was all the time you needed, you ripped yourself out of his grip and turned to walk away leaving the devastated man in your wake. You stopped and turned your head to look at him through the corner of your good eye, “I suggest you run as far as you can, P- Quackity. It would be a shame if I had to kill you if you stayed a second longer. Get the hell out of my nation, traitor.” With that you turned back around and started walking again. After a few seconds, you finally heard him move. 

“I’ll be back for you, I promise. I-I love you, mijo.” You heard the ruffling of feathers and the batting of wings behind you as he left Manberg. The smile on your face was wobbly and weak as tears started to slip out of your eyes. You took a second to compose yourself before you broke off into a sprint towards the White House, passing a few Rutabagaville members and Badlanders stopping to look at you in confusion. Your dad needed you.

After that, you slowly began to question Schlatt’s words, especially when he was drunk. Now that you paid attention, he never said that he loves you anymore. He only had you do his work, the only things he would talk to you about anymore was about the upcoming war and how useless you were as he berated the paperwork you had no idea how to do. There were no more talks about how you mattered, no more side hugs, hair tousles, or soft headbutts, nothing. Maybe he was using you after all. 

So here you were, standing in front of his office with a shaking hand hovering over the oak doors. The smile on your face was incredibly forced, feeling painful for holding it for so long. Just as you mustered the courage to knock on the ram hybrid’s door, it swung open to reveal the hybrid himself.

Your father was swaying on his feet as he looked at you in surprise, “I thought I gave you the night off. Ender, can’t even get your own schedule right? Why’re you even working for me?” You could smell the alcohol on his breath and it reeked. You shrunk in on yourself slightly eyeing the bottle in his hand. The last time he yelled at you he smashed you in the head with it. You forgave him obviously, but it left you with fear whenever you saw a glass bottle in his hand. It happened only last week shortly after Quackity left. The gashes it left on your face and head were still healing. 

Since Quackity left and he went through yet another death, Schlatt had become more irritable, paranoid, and violent. He started yelling at and hitting you more, crying and begging afterwards for you to forgive him. He promised that he’d never do it again, but he always did. You always forgave him in the end because he was the only one that loved you and the only one that you actually talked to anymore. You craved any type of physical touch from your adoptive dad at this point, you didn’t care if it was violent or not. Any touch was a happy touch.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you Dad, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me tomorrow for my birthday.”

“Birthday? BIRTHDAY?” He barked out a drunken laugh, his words slurring together. “You want me, the leader of a nation during a fucking war, to take a second off just because of one day that never should’ve happened?”

You fiddled with your fingers and shuffled your feet, struggling to keep the trace of a smile on your face. You couldn’t lie, that one stung a bit. If you didn’t know any better, you’d compare it to how you were treated at your previous family’s home. You’d never compare Schlatt to those cowards though. He was far better than them. “I’m sorry Dad, but I just thought that I’d celebrate it this year, I’m turning six-.”

“Awe, is it gonna hurt your wittle feewings if I told you that I don’t care? Wake up, (y/n). We’re in the middle of a war. We don’t have time to celebrate anything. You and I are working tomorrow. Now get out of my face before I fire your sorry ass for unprofessionalism and misconduct.”

“Okay, goodnight Dad. Love y-” before you could finish, the door was slammed in your face. You could hear him laughing and mumbling incoherently to himself from behind the thick oak doors. Sighing, you turned around and walked straight into your office. You took out a rope from your desk drawer and stared at it blankly. 

It’d be so easy to off yourself again. If you made the noose properly unlike last time, your neck would snap and you’d be killed immediately instead of slowly suffocating. No one would stop you, no one would care. Schlatt would. He loved you like you were his biological kid. You fantasized that as you were about to jump off your desk that he’d open your door and attempt to apologize before he would realize what was going on and comfort you. He’d hold you like he did before he won the election telling you that your life mattered. You’d give anything for that to happen, but in the deepest darkest corner of your mind you knew that it’d never happen. He’d just drown himself in alcohol not realizing what’s happening in the room down the hall. Hell if anything, Karl would be the one to find your hanging corpse as he had a meeting with you first thing in the morning.

Besides, you had to live to carry out your plan to murder Tommy and Wilbur. You obviously wouldn’t be able to kill Philza or Technoblade because the former is immortal and the latter is, well he’s Technoblade (though you have been talking to Dream more lately. Maybe you could ask for a favor). That didn’t worry you; they’d probably kill you on sight once they’ve heard that their precious boys have been brutally murdered by you. You didn’t care if they killed you afterwards, your mission would be complete. It’d be a devastating blow to the family (if you could even call it that at that point, it’d be just father and son), something that’ll take them a while to recover from. 

You put the rope back into your desk drawer and curled up onto the couch you had in the corner of your office. Wrapping yourself in the blanket you kept in a filing cabinet drawer, you quickly passed out.

The next day felt just like another day. You woke up, put on your suit, and started on some paperwork that you had to complete before the end of the day. You didn’t feel any different, it was just another day of trying to keep this nation afloat during wartime while juggling two jobs at once. Schlatt was right, your birthday was just another day. You felt silly for confronting him about it last night. It was stupid of you to do, all you could hope now was that he’d forgive you.

A knock on the door made you look up and plaster a smile onto your face. “Come in.” Karl’s messy mop of brown hair came into view before he did. Like usual, he had a dopey grin on his face and was wearing that ender awful hoodie. You hated that hoodie, it was unprofessional to wear in such an important government building. It looked like he was wanting to say something, he looked slightly anxious. Looking back down at your work, you quickly reorganized it. “Good morning, Mr. Jacobs. I’m assuming you’d like to walk and talk?”

“How-”

You walked over to him with a smile, “I can read people’s body language pretty well. Now let’s start our meeting. It’s not like we have all day.”

You both walked through the halls of the White House talking about what you usually talked about in meetings; progress reports, the extent of which Pogtopia is expanding, and brainstorming ideas on how to take the rebelling country down. The entire time he was casually throwing around jokes of which you would reply with a ‘stop messing around’ and quickly reel the conversation back in. Eventually, he stopped dead in his tracks in front of a spare room you and Schlatt used for storage. It was relatively empty inside with the exception of a few boxes. 

“Karl, why have you stopped? We still have much more to discuss before our meeting’s over.”

“Open the doors.”

“Wha-”

“Just do it! You’ll like what’s on the other side, I promise.” You eyed his excited smile suspiciously before you sighed, “fine, I guess I’ll entertain you just this one time. Don’t expect me to-” you cut yourself off as you saw what was behind the door. 

Grinning faces stared back at you. Each member of the Badlands and Rutabagaville were in the cramped little room. Well, it was cramped for Bad and Sam with their heights, the rest of them fit just fine. In Bad’s hands was a homemade cake with neat letters printed on the top in your favorite color. It read ‘happy 16th birthday (y/n)!’. 

You were frozen as Karl put a hand on your shoulder and gently nudged you inside the room closing the door behind him. You stayed frozen as they started to sing happy birthday to you, Karl and Sapnap competing to sing the highest note at the end of it. You stayed frozen as they looked at you expectantly waiting for you to blow out the candles. 

“Well? You gonna blow out the candles, gem?” Skeppy gestured with a hand to the cake, the flames’ light being bounced off his ridgid skin in a slight rainbow. 

“I-I don’t- We don’t have time for this, we’re in a war. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do-”

“Nothing’s gonna happen if we celebrate for an hour,” Sam gently told you, “the paperwork can wait.”

“Yeah, you’re still a kid; you deserve to at least have an hour dedicated to you on your birthday,” Ant told you.

 You stayed there looking at them skeptically, you remembered how they looked at you during the festival. However unlike their looks of fear and disbelief they all wore during the festival, they were looking at you with warmth and empathy. You honestly didn’t know what to do, you haven’t celebrated your birthday since… well since him. By Ender, you missed him. 

“C’mon, imagine the fire is your enemy! Blow em out! Blow em out!” Skeppy chanted, the others joining in with encouraging smiles. Bad looked like he wanted to scold them for trying to pressure you, but he eventually joined in as well placing a giant clawed hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile and a nod towards the cake.

You hesitantly leaned forward and blew the candles out. The plumes of smoke that drifted off from the burnt wicks reminded you of the cigarettes Schlatt would smoke. The men in the room cheered with Ant gently patting your shoulder and Karl, Sapnap, and Skeppy cheering the loudest. Sam was clapping and giving you the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from the creeper hybrid and Bad put his hand on your head and ruffled your hair. You could feel your forced smile turning genuine as you felt a warm joy bubble in your gut and spread through your body for the first time in years. 

“Good job, muffin! What’d you wish for?”

You craned your neck to look up at the demon in confusion, “I was supposed to wish for something?”

“Yeah! Haven’t you done this before?”

“No, can’t say I have. Am I supposed to wish for something now or am I too late?”

“It’s never too late, muffin. Go ahead, wish for something,” Bad gave you a small smile. You nodded and stared at the cake intensely raking your brain for something to wish for. The only thing that you truly wanted was for Tommy and Wilbur to finally die and for Technoblade and Philza’s lives to be ruined. That was the only way you’d be happy, so you opened your mouth only to have a frantic Skeppy cut you off, “no! If you say it out loud, it won’t come true!”

“Alright, I’ll keep it to myself then.” 

After you ate some cake (it’s been a while since you’ve had the sweet, it was tastier than you remembered), you tried to glance at the clock only to be blocked by Ant, “relax, Schlatt’s out today. You can spend as much time here as you want.”

“He’ll find out, my Dad’s been stressed lately. I-”

“Kid, you work your ass off twenty four seven. You’re almost never out of your office.”

“Language Sapnap! But… he has a point though. You need a break. You shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of stuff, you’re still a kid.”

“Loosen up a bit! I’ll put on some music, what do you usually listen to?” Karl grinned widely at you gesturing to the jukebox in the corner of the room. You saw some records laying around on top of one of the boxes. It looked like there was a full collection of them. 

“I don’t usually listen to music. I don’t really have the time for it, but uh, you can pick out anything as long as it’s not Cat or Mellohi.” You hated those discs with a burning passion. It was like you could still hear the muffled medlies drifting through the walls in your childhood home. 

Once Karl put on a disc, some fast paced harmonized notes sounded from the machine. 

“Let’s fuckin party!” Sapnap shouted.

“Language!”

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[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

if this was a dream pt. 3

i want to apologize in advance because this is literally like 4 chapters in a trench coat... i'm serious chapter 1 was just over 1000 words and this is over 4000, I have no idea what happened. the reason I didn't break it up is because it is very alastair-centric. I promise next chapter we will get back to thomas and see how he's doing with the actual amnesia part of it all.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Fanfiction Masterlist | AO3

Alastair pulled his coat tightly around himself, trying to keep his breathing steady. The walk from the Institute to Cornwall Gardens was long, but it would give him far more time to clear his head than borrowing a carriage or hailing a hansom cab. He fell into the rhythm of his footsteps; this was familiar to him. He had spent more hours than he could count just walking and walking, trying to run from this life the universe had given him. 

Now, though, even his walking was infected by Thomas. 

Sometimes, I simply needed to get away from all of the hovering. There was this bit of forest near our house in Idris… it was nice, peaceful. The perfect escape, somewhere to wander until I was too spent to continue. Drove my parents a bit mad, but it was what I needed. 

Alastair told him about the woods around Cirenworth, how it was his escape, too. He’d memorized nearly every corner of that forest over the years. It was somewhere where he could pretend to be someone, anyone else. He could be no one, even. He’d left most of the details out, as he often did when discussing his childhood. He trusted Thomas completely, but there were some things he preferred to leave in the past. 

Now, his sleepless body ached against the increasing pace of his footsteps, pushing forward as if moving quickly enough could outrun the tears burning behind his eyes. He did not know if he could do this again. If Thomas never regained his memories, could Alastair convince him to forgive him again? Their original circumstances were quite peculiar. Could Alastair survive trying to gain his forgiveness again? 

He’d do anything for Thomas, he knew. He loved him, even if he’d never said it out loud. And as he said it now, even in the safety of his own mind, it felt far different than it ever did with Charles on the receiving end. With Charles, love felt strangling. It was shackles to his ankles and wrists, tying him to his misery. Looking back, it was not love at all. With Thomas, he felt free. Thomas made the impossible feel possible. 

It isn’t possible. It won’t ever be.

He heard his own words repeated back to him. He knew where this was headed from the start. This is how it all works out for Alastair Carstairs. He knew this time would be no different, even if he hoped it would. 

He loathed this feeling inside of him. He’d been doing well. He’d been happy. Now all he could think of were his own self-doubts, his own self-hatred, his age-old desire to run away to the farthest stretches of the Earth in the middle of the night, never to return. 

A better partner, a better person would not be so consumed in these thoughts as he was. A better partner would not be the recipient of such hatred from the man he loved at all, memories or not. A better partner would know what to do, how to ease the pain and anxiety that flooded Thomas’ eyes rather than exacerbate them. He was not better, however. He could never be what Thomas deserved. He knew it from the start, but it felt different, being thrown in his face now. 

Perhaps it would be better this way, he thought, for it to end like this. It was going to end eventually, as all things do. Perhaps this way would hurt Thomas less, even if Alastair would always wonder what could have happened if he’d tried a little harder, if he’d been a little less horrible, if he’d been a little bit stronger, a bit braver.

He was being ridiculous, he knew. Thomas merely needed time. He’d just woken up from his injury, six months displaced, no less. He was grieving his sister again, even more than before. Alastair wanted to ease Thomas’ pain, but he could not, and thus, Thomas needed time and space and he would give it to him. 

Before he realized it, he had returned to his home. He could not remember most of the walk, his feet guiding him through the city he now knew a bit too well as his mind wandered to a place he couldn’t quite reach with his consciousness. 

He slowly unlocked the door and sighed as he hung his coat. Cordelia started quickly down the stairs but froze as her expression fell when she saw the look on his face. 

Realizing what she must be thinking, Alastair quickly shook his head. “He’s alright. He woke up. He simply… appears to be missing about the past six months of memory.” 

Cordelia frowned, her face softening as she continued down the stairs and embraced her brother. “Oh, dâdash. Are you alright?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Thomas is alive and awake. He just hates me.” 

She sighed. “He doesn’t hate you. I don’t think he ever truly did.” 

He shook his head. “He thinks he does. Or he wants to. What’s it matter?” 

“Take a seat, dâdash. We just made tea, I’ll bring some out.” Before he could protest, she left for the kitchen. 

He settled into one of the armchairs. When Cordelia returned, she took the one beside his and began to pour tea for each of them. “You two will work your way through this, you know. Whatever happens.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Are you joking? I don’t think I’ve ever met two people better matched. It’s as if you share the same soul or something.” 

He gritted his teeth. “Most would say we’re opposites.” 

“You act like opposites. Believe it or not, though, behaving grumpy or cheerful are not personality traits. In all the ways that matter, you’re two halves of one whole. It makes me utterly green with envy sometimes, seeing the two of you together, the way that you understand each other so completely. 

“I love James, of course, with my whole being. But if I’m being honest, for a long time I thought that the reason I liked him was because he reminded me of Father, all introverted and bookish and such. Now, I’m merely trying to decipher what was real and what was not, what parts of me are genuine and which ones are simply who I thought I needed to be to please him. James, too, is finding himself again after all that happened with Grace. Sometimes, it feels as though we’re two clueless children stumbling around with no sense of self, for some reason placed in this big house with adult responsibilities. It’s an utter mess sometimes, though every moment is worth it. 

“Yet you… somehow, despite everything, despite all of the odds stacked against you, despite so much pain and fear, you found yourself and your soulmate all in one person. It’s what you deserve, dâdash, what you both deserve. You will find a way.” 

He did not quite believe her, but he would not argue. 

“Are you going to be alright?” she asked, cocking her head. 

He nodded and then paused for a moment. “I don’t know how I’ll explain this to Mâmân.” Despite all the trouble it’s caused, she still did not know the truth about his time in school. 

“I could, if you’d like?” Cordelia offered. 

He sighed. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to keep the entire matter out of his own hands. He shook his head. “It’s time I did, I think.” 

She gave him a bit of a frown but nodded. “If you’re sure.” 

“I’m tired of lying. I spent enough time keeping secrets when Father was alive.” He stood from the chair. 

“I’m here if you need me.” 

He started up the staircase, mustering up a more positive expression as to not worry his mother too much before he could get the words out. He found her in her bedroom, resting in an armchair a few feet away from Rostam’s bassinet. He approached his baby brother first, giving him a small smile though he was fast asleep. It could have been his mind playing tricks on him, but he was certain Rostam was bigger than he’d been just a few days ago. 

“He just fell asleep,” his mother said softly. He turned to her. Her eyes looked tired, though no more tired than they had a few days earlier, and certainly no more tired than his own. “Come, azizam, what are you doing home? Did something happen?”

Alastair shook his head. “Thomas is awake; he’s alright.” 

“Why aren’t you with him?” she asked after a small stretch of silence. 

“He… He has amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything past last summer. It’s best if I keep my distance for a bit.” 

His mother gave him a small smile. “It’ll be okay, Alastair joon. He’ll understand given a bit of time.” 

Alastair didn’t look at her. “Maybe. I don’t know. He… he’s quite angry with me. The original circumstances under which he forgave me were fairly bizarre to begin with.” 

“Forgive you for what, dear? What could possibly be so terrible that he would not forgive you?” 

He sighed. He knew he could not avoid this conversation any longer. “I… It was something that happened at school.” He paused for a moment. “I know you think that I got on well with everyone at the Academy, but… That isn’t the truth. When I first arrived, all of the other boys could tell that I was an easy target. I was smaller than them, and… there were rumors. After a while, I just couldn’t bear it any longer. I… I was always quite good with words, as you know. I learned that using them to cut down others would get me a good laugh, and as long as the other boys were laughing they weren’t…” He trailed off. How was he meant to tell his mother this? “It took the attention off of me.” 

“By the time James and Thomas and their friends arrived the next year, I was so angry, at everyone and everything… I was so jealous of them. They had…” Picture perfect families, he wanted to say, though he could not. “They had these perfect lives, or at least they appeared that way to me. They never had to worry about attracting the wrong attention on the street or being humiliated because their families couldn’t afford to hire private tutors. They never had to worry about anything but growing up.” 

“Alastair…” his mother started. “I know we never discussed things of this nature. It’s alright that you were angry. They benefited from society in ways that rejected you merely by circumstances of birth. But that wasn’t their fault.” 

“I know. I know that now, now that I’m older. I know that my anger was misplaced. But when I was in school, society was too big. I only saw what was in front of me. I thought that if I must be cruel to someone, it should be to them. I said terrible, dreadful things about them and their families, things that should never be repeated. They did nothing to deserve the way I treated them. Thomas was kind to me, one of the only people who was ever kind to me in my two years there, and yet I still slandered his family. Last summer, he learned of the things I had said when he was not listening. That is what he remembers now.” 

There was a long stretch of silence. Alastair would not look his mother in the eyes. “I always knew that you had a hard time at school, Alastair,” she said finally. “Your lies were never too convincing. I could see how you’d changed. I… I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.” 

He knew it, too. He knew how his parents had spoken about him in those years, lamenting about what a miserable and difficult teenager he’d grown into when he and his sister were not in the room. He also knew how his father only ever seemed to care about Alastair’s destructive behavior when his mother began to pester him about his drinking. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“The world was cruel to you, and I could not protect you from it, but I should have tried. You were a child, my child, I am your mother, and I was meant to protect you, but I did not. Not just from the world, but from… your father, I know. Be kind to yourself, azizam. Regardless of what cruel things you did while trying to balance the weight of the world on small shoulders, it seems to me that those you hurt have forgiven you. You simply have not forgiven yourself.” 

“Perhaps they shouldn’t have. Perhaps I never deserved their forgiveness in the first place.” 

Sona sighed. “Forgiveness is not deserved, Alastair. We forgive for our own wellbeing, so that we can let go and move on. If you will not fight for Thomas on your own behalf, fight on his. He deserves to forgive you, to heal from these wounds of the past. He deserves to be loved by you.” 

Alastair didn’t respond. 

“It pains me to see you like this. You deserve to forgive, too. You deserve to forgive yourself and all who have caused you pain. You deserve to be free of it. As long as you keep such a tight grip on it all, you will only continue to destroy yourself, and as long as you continue to destroy yourself, you will hurt those who love you as well. Please-” she cut herself off, her voice breaking. Her voice trembled as she began again, and he realized for a striking moment that he had never seen her this vulnerable before. He’d witnessed her pain after Elias’ death, and he’d caught glimpses of her sorrow before it, but she’d always kept her truest self tightly locked. “Please, my love, promise me that you’ll try. You can start with me.” 

He looked up at her abruptly, startled. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could find the words, she’d stood and crossed the few feet between them. 

She took his hands in hers. Seeing the pain in her eyes, he wanted desperately to look away but he could not. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me for all of the ways that I’ve failed you. You were too young for the burdens I placed upon you. I never should have allowed you to take on that responsibility. Please, forgive me for all of the times I overlooked your pain because I was distracted by my own. I am so sorry, Alastair, for each and every time I hurt you and dismissed you. I did the best with what I had, but if I could go back in time and teach myself to be a little stronger, a little braver, to be a better mother than I was, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can’t. All I can do is promise to try to be a better mother, not just to your brother, but to you as well. If it’s not too late.” Careful tears streamed down her cheeks, rare as they were. 

He shook his head, feeling his own tears spill. He fell into her embrace, holding her tightly, as he had not done since he was a small child. “I forgive you,” he said softly, and he meant it. 

They stood for a long while, holding each other, taking comfort in each other and the silence. Until Rostam began to cry. They pulled away from each other awkwardly. 

“I should… get some rest,” Alastair said, trying to pull himself together. He realized suddenly that he had no idea what time it was or when he’d last slept or eaten. 

Sona nodded. “Of course. I love you, Alastair. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. I’m sorry that you and Thomas are struggling right now, but I know that you two are strong and resilient. With a bit of time and healing, this will pass.” 

He nodded, unable to respond without breaking down again. 

He returned to his bedroom to the sound of his mother soothing his newborn brother. Shutting his door behind him, he felt the exhaustion of the past several days settled deep into his bones. With heavy movements, he changed into clean clothes, leaving the old ones in a heap on the floor. Typically, he would be horrified at the thought of anything in his room so out of place, but he could not find the energy within himself to care.

He collapsed into his bed, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep, repeating his mothers words back to himself in his mind. If only forgiving himself would come as easily as forgiving her. 

* * *

The next two days passed as a blur. He’d slept heavily the first night. Cordelia had reportedly attempted to wake him for dinner, but settled on bringing a bit of food to his bedroom instead. 

The next day passed a bit more normally, though Alastair still felt quite scattered. He’d appeared well-enough put together, however, for Cordelia to feel comfortable going home, so he supposed that was a good sign. Kamala had come for a visit, too, though he wasn’t much in the mood for talking, and they wound up just giving Rostam a bath and discussing Kamala’s latest read. 

The day after that had slowly begun to feel more normal, more balanced. Until Gideon Lightwood arrived at his door. 

Alastair stared at him for a moment before regaining his composure. He began to call him Mr. Lightwood before stopping himself. It still felt a bit odd to call him by his given name. “Gideon, hello. What are you doing here? Did something happen?” 

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Everything’s fine. Thomas is doing well; he’s feeling much better, though no significant improvements to his memory.” 

Alastair nodded. “That’s good. That he’s feeling better, I mean.” 

“I came here to check on you, actually.” 

“Oh.” He paused. “You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I wanted to. Well, we all did, Sophie, Eugenia, and I, but I was the most persuasive.” He smiled as he spoke, as if smug at the accomplishment of being delegated the one to come visit him. 

“Right, er, come in,” he gestured for Gideon to enter and take a seat in the sitting room. “You’re in luck; my mother just made tea if you’d like some.” 

He nodded. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.” 

Alastair returned a few moments later and began pouring tea. “It was very kind of you to come, but I’m truly alright. Just worried about Thomas is all.” 

Gideon nodded. “Of course. As I said, he’s doing well, or as well as can be expected under the circumstances. I know it is difficult for him, feeling so disconnected. Regardless of the brave face he puts on. It’s frustrating for him, as if we’ve all got some sort of inside joke that he isn’t in on.” 

He could imagine it: the quick glances, the brief answers to Thomas’ many questions. He was certain it was driving him mad. “I wish there was something I could do to help.” 

Gideon gave him a small smile. “Because he’s feeling better, his friends are coming by today to attempt to fill him in on the time that he’s missing. I’m certain there will be gaps, though. Perhaps afterwards he will be more open to speaking with you.” 

Alastair didn’t know how to tell him that he wasn’t so sure Thomas’ friends would be singing his praises. 

“You should stop by the Institute tomorrow if you’re free,” Gideon offered. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” 

“It’s up to Thomas, of course, if he would like to see you, but if nothing else I know that Sophie and Eugenia would love for you to come by.” 

Alastair didn’t respond for a long moment. He’d spent these past couple of days mainly sleeping and caring for his brother, but also ruminating over his conversation with his mother. He began to make a mental list, both of the things he felt he had not forgiven himself for and the things he had not forgiven others for. Before he knew it, the list was distressingly lengthy. He had no idea where to even begin. Perhaps if he could put this one mistake behind him, whatever that meant, the rest would seem less overwhelming. 

He knew that he would never forgive himself for how he hurt Thomas’ family as long as the terrible things he’d done went unspoken. Perhaps that was why he never brought it up. “Did Thomas ever tell you why he was angry with me?” 

Gideon narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Something that happened back at school, wasn’t it?” 

Alastair nodded. He memorized the way Gideon looked at him now, prepared to only be looked upon with hatred in a few moments. He exhaled and looked down, too cowardly to watch the expression change. “I said things… horrible things about your family. About your wife and about Thomas and about Henry Fairchild, but mainly about you, the Consul, and Matthew. There were rumours going around that he was your child, and I repeated them to him. I repeated them after, too. I have reasons for the way I behaved at school, but I have no reasons for that. I was simply angry. Matthew and I were both terrible to each other, and I was so angry for so many reasons. I did not think of the consequences of my words. I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry for the role I played in causing your family such pain.” 

“It’s okay,” Gideon replied gently. Alastair looked up in surprise to see not a hint of the hatred he was expecting. Seeing the confused look on his face, he continued. “Obviously, I’m not happy that you said cruel things about my loved ones, but it was a long time ago, and I would be a hypocrite to not recognize a man who regrets his mistakes and has learned from them. You make my son happy, Alastair. That more than makes up for anything you might’ve said when you were younger, in my eyes.” He flashed him a smile and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Here I was, worried that you’d killed someone or something.” 

“Well, I’ve also done that, but it’s not what Thomas is angry about.” 

Gideon stared at him, clearly unsure over whether or not he was serious. 

“Joking,” he said quickly. “...kind of.” 

He looked back at him hesitantly. “Do you… want to talk about it?” 

“Ha, no. Not today.” His guilt surrounding the deaths of Clive Cartwright and his father would need to be addressed another time. 

“Right,” Gideon responded. “Thank you for telling me this, Alastair. I appreciate your honesty. I only have one question, why did you not say anything about this before? It was clearly bothering you. Did you fear we would reject you?” 

“I…” That seemed like the logical answer, wasn’t it? Yet he knew it was not the correct one. “I think that perhaps it was the opposite. I was just so ashamed… and I knew that as long as I held on to that, I would never allow myself to truly get too close. I know how horrible that sounds, and I know it hurt Thomas, too, but for some reason that,” he gestured vaguely with his hands, “was scarier than anything else. I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t make sense-” 

“It does. I understand, Alastair, even if I don’t like that you felt you had to do that. I know the past couple of months have been complicated for you, though in many ways less complicated than the years before. It will always be your choice, but know that there will always be a place for you in my life, whether you and Thomas are together or not. But I will not ever blame you for anything you feel you are not able to do.”

Alastair nodded, feeling a soreness at the back of this throat that indicated impending tears. 

“You should stop by tomorrow and visit us. It’s up to you, but I think that it would be helpful for you to speak with Sophie, too. I will not repeat anything to her, lest you decide not to. I do think it would be somewhat of a relief, though. We thought that the reason you were so distant was because you disliked us.” 

“What?” He silently cursed the pain in his voice. 

“Joking,” Gideon teased with a chuckle. “Kind of.” 

Alastair exhaled, feeling a bit of the tension release, and gave him half of an eye roll. 

“Please, tell me honestly, Alastair, are you doing alright?” 

He nodded in response, finally feeling it to be true. 

“I shall take my leave then. The tea was truly lovely, by the way. You must pass my thanks unto your mother.” 

“I will.” 

“See you tomorrow, then?” 

“Tomorrow,” Alastair responded before he could stop himself. He stood to see him out, but was surprised when Gideon met him with a hug goodbye. 

“Thank you for chatting with me.” 

“Thank you for… checking in.” 

Gideon smiled at him and donned his coat and hat. Alastair watched him as he departed, feeling more at peace now than he had in quite a while.

thanks so much for reading! taglist (reply, ask, or message to be added/removed): @stxr-thxif @satanisanauthor @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @kamalajcshi @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid

[allisondraste]

Temperance 42/42

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:   Epilogue!!

Author Note: Well, my friends. Here we are at the end of a journey that has lasted just over a year. When I started writing this story, I had no idea just exactly what it would mean to me. I had no clue that anyone would read it, let alone that I would have the amount of support and encouragement that I have ended up having. Temperance has seen me through some incredibly difficult times, and through some really good ones too. I am both sad that it is coming to an end, and thrilled at the confidence I've gained to start other projects.

I just want to start out by saying a humongous thank you to each and every one of my readers (whether you've left comments or just read and enjoyed silently). I appreciate you all immensely. You have made this journey all the more while.

I also want to thank all of the people who have supported me behind the scenes. Helping me plan, and plot, and taking a vested interest in my characters and my story, but also in me and my growth as a writer and a person. I don't have to name any names, you all know you are, and you rock. :D

This is by far the end of Nathaniel and Liss' story. It's just the beginning, and I have a lot of adventures planned for them going forward, but I'm also really excited to focus on some new things in the same worldstate.

I'm also excited to read more and support others as I've been supported.

Anyway, this is not the Oscars... but I couldn't close this chapter of my life without acknowledging the people who helped me get there.

<3

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Dearest Baby Sister,

I hope this letter finds you well. I will be honest, I am more than a little upset that I had to learn about your choice to leave your position in Denerim and join the Grey Wardens from Queen Anora, and not you.  Why did you not write to me? Were you afraid that I would lecture you on how foolish it is? That I would disapprove because father never entertained the idea? None of that is true. We have been through so much hardship in the past year, I want you to do whatever you need to feel happy again.  If that means fighting darkspawn until you rot, then I pity the darkspawn who dare to cross you.

Anyway, enough of that.  I would much rather talk about Nathaniel.  If you’re with Wardens now, then you must have had ample time to talk with him. To tell him about that torch you still carry for him.  Or, you know, at least kick his arse for leaving you in the dark all those years. In all seriousness, I do hope that you two have had a real conversation about everything.  I love you both, and you care too damn much about each other to let it all slip away. I’ll stop lecturing you, but I eagerly await your reply.

And now to the real reason why I’ve written: I have a surprise for you— one that I cannot possibly keep secret a moment longer.  In fact, I am disappointed that I am not getting to tell you the news in person to see the look on your face, but you deserve to know.

I found Bear!

I didn’t tell you this before. Didn’t want to get your hopes up prematurely, but as soon as I returned to Highever, I put out a reward for his return.  As it turns out, the old boy was living with a young family just on the outskirts of the teyrnir. They told me they found him injured not long after Howe took control, noticed the laurels on his collar right away, but feared returning him to the castle for obvious reasons.  They nursed him back to health and let him get all fat and lazy, but they were excited to be able to send him home. I almost couldn’t get them to take the reward.

He’s watching me write this letter right now, actually.  It’s like he knows it’s you— I think the bloody hound can read! On his behalf, I implore you to come visit as soon as you’re able. He simply isn’t satisfied with my meager attempts at belly rubs, and I grow weary.  

I wouldn’t mind seeing you as well, Sis.  You’re welcome home any time. Your room will always be there for you.

Love,

Fergus (and Bear)

P.S. Bring Nate.  We have catching up to do.

Dear Fergus,

When I received your letter, I had to read it several times.  I couldn’t believe my own eyes. I truly thought Bear had died when he and I got separated during the ambush.  That you found him… Brother, I do not know that I could ever repay you for what it means to me. I suppose I shall have to forgive you for calling me “baby” sister.  I am not a baby, even if I am currently crying like one.

I am sorry that I did not write sooner.  I have been more than a little preoccupied.  Joining the Grey Wardens takes more than just some paperwork, though I am forbidden to say any more than that.  I am doing well, though. I feel better than I have in quite some time. The Wardens have given me a new purpose, a new place to belong that I didn’t feel in Anora’s council.  I was never exactly suited for the affairs of the court. I finally found my chance to get away. I think that I will fit in well here, with these Wardens of Amaranthine. They are a quirky lot, but they’re good people.

And Nate’s here.  He says hello.

I am pleased to report that we did, in fact, talk.  About everything, and at great length. We are not the same as we were when we were younger.  Things are different and more difficult now, but you’re right. We care too much about one another to give up on something just because it isn’t as easy as it would have been without…. everything that happened.  We’re together now, in case that wasn’t clear. It feels good to finally say that in writing, outloud. I wonder what Mama and Papa would think. I’m sure they would approve. They loved Nate, too.

Anyway, look at me, gibbering on like this is my journal or something.  Hey— at least it will save you the trouble of having to actually read my journal.

You could always visit us here, you know.  Delilah will be returning to Ferelden in Drakonis, and I believe there will be some sort of formal celebration to mark the transition of power.  You should come.

Love,

Liss.

P.S.  The reason Bear isn’t satisfied with your belly rubs is because he prefers scratches on his rear.  Tell him he’s a good boy for me, and that I’ll see him soon.

[The following note was found on a slip of parchment stuck in between the pages of a novel]

Liss— Finished reading your book.  I liked it, though the main protagonist was completely unbelievable.  Nobody likes cheese that much. Well, at least nobody I’ve ever met.

By the way, have I mentioned that I am glad you and Nathaniel got things sorted.  It would have been a damn shame if you had broken the eternally binding contract of a pinky swear.

[Scrawled at the bottom of the note was a tiny arrow, indicating that there was more written on the back.]

I got a letter from Bria.  She is doing well and told me to tell you hello.

— Alistair

Dear Ser Ben,

It is “Ser” now, is it not?  Unless of course you followed my poor example and left your training to pursue some sort of fruitless revenge, which is highly unlikely, so I am going to assume that you earned your knighthood.  Congratulations, my friend. I am proud of you.

I promised that I would write to you, so here I am, keeping that promise.  I know that you must be terribly surprised, considering my poor record for correspondence.  I apologize that it has taken this long to send word to you. I have been rather busy since I returned to Ferelden.  I spent months in hiding, plotting revenge against the Grey Wardens who destroyed my family, but when it was time to follow through with those plans I changed my mind.  A trespasser in my own home, I wanted nothing more than to retrieve some heirlooms and leave, fade away into obscurity for good. Unfortunately, I was captured, imprisoned for theft, and conscripted into the Wardens to spare me execution.  I’ve had my hands full with darkspawn and other duties ever since.  

As horrific as that all sounds, the Wardens have actually been my salvation, a chance to make my family name something to be proud of again.  The Warden-Commander is not the monster I had believed her to be. She is young and inexperienced, but thoughtful and wise beyond her years. My father, on the other hand, was twice the monster I thought he was.  All my life I knew he was a hateful, selfish man, but I did not realize the lengths to which he would go for power and wealth. To think that I ever defended him. Disgusting.

Do you remember Liss, the one you always called my “Fereldan lass?” I am certain that you do, considering how much you enjoyed teasing me about her. Anyway, her family and mine have been allies since the rebellion, and they were murdered in their own home upon my father’s command.  For months I believed Liss had died as well, but both she and her brother live, and now she is among the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden.

I finally confessed my feelings to her, apologized for everything.  She forgave me, and now we’re… together. It seems surreal to say, but I thought you would be pleased to know.

That is more than enough about me and my woes.  How have you been, my friend? I hope that you are staying out of trouble and also out of married womens’ beds. Remember what happened the last time? I’ve told Liss about you and some of your amorous adventures.  She is excited to meet you someday. I think that you two will be fast friends.

I miss you, Ben.  I hope that our paths will cross soon.

Take care,

Nathaniel

P.S. Have you been in contact with Erina? I know it isn’t any of my concern, but I hope she is all right.

Dear Nate,

Andraste’s knickers!  It’s really you. You really wrote to me.  I can hardly believe my eyes. I waited a bit, but after months of nothing, I thought for sure you’d forgotten me.  I’m glad to learn that you didn’t. Sorry about the other stuff though. It’s a damn shame what happened to your lass’ family, and what happened to yours.

Arrested? Nearly executed? Conscripted? And here I thought you were a model of lawful behavior.  I am kidding of course. I know it’s been a difficult time for you, and I’m sure your head hasn’t been screwed on properly since you learned about your old man.  It’s good you found your place, and something to give you a purpose. As much as I miss you, you were miserable here. It was obvious to anyone who talked to you for more than five minutes.

Of course I remember your Fereldan lass, the love of your life and object of your undying affection.  How could I possibly forget? It’s like you had your own little personal rain cloud with her name all over it.  Is that gone? Now that you’ve got her, that is? I hope you can finally be happy. You deserve it.  

Glad to hear that she finds my amorous adventures entertaining.  Someone ought to. I personally did not enjoy getting my arse kicked by the cheese merchant. Twice.  It’s not my fault his wife told me he was dead! I’ve managed to avoid anything of the sort for almost a year now.  I thought my image needed a bit of a change once I was knighted. Figured it was about time I be respectable.

That, and Ri glares at me disapprovingly whenever she finds out I’ve done something unscrupulous.  She returned to Starkhaven when I did. Said she didn’t want to leave me unsupervised, but I know that’s not the truth.  She’s scared to be alone, and I don’t blame her. I’ve been watching her back, and she’s watching mine. She’s a good friend, and I think she’d be happy to know you asked about her.  I know you’ve got it in your head that she hates you, but she doesn’t. She cares about you, but the past is the past. Last time we talked about it, she said she met someone in Denerim and that they’re staying in touch. Some blacksmith or something.

Anyway, it’s really good to hear from you, Nate. Make sure you find me if your Warden duties ever bring you up to the Marches! I’ll buy you and that lass of yours a pint on the king’s tab.  Not really— but you get the sentiment.  

Don’t be a stranger!

Love,

Ben

Dear Nathaniel,

I am certain that you are already aware that I will be returning to Ferelden in Drakonis.  Albert and I planned on leaving just after we received Queen Anora’s letter, but the baby came much earlier than expected, and he was ill for weeks.  I had to recover as well. Now, we have a happy, healthy baby boy: Aidan Nathaniel Howe. Aidan, after Albert’s grandfather, his hero, and Nathaniel after mine (I know you’re scowling, and stop it.  It’s rude). We decided to give him the Howe name to make his status as the heir amply known.  

Ha! Heirs. Succession.  It seems so strange to be thinking about all of those things now doesn’t it?  I never thought that our family would have any claim to Amaranthine again, and now… it’s all in my hands.  Maker, I wish Thomas were still alive to see it. As much as he tormented me when we were younger, I miss him dearly.

Anyway, I just thought you would want to know about your nephew.

See you soon.

Love,

Delilah

Dear Delilah,

I am happy to hear that both you and the baby are doing well.  No, I am not scowling that you gave him my name. I do not believe I am worthy of such an honor as I have not exactly been the world’s most present older brother, but I accept it graciously nonetheless.  It means a lot to me, Sister. I am looking forward to meeting him.

So is Liss, which is an entirely different topic, isn’t it?

Weeks after I visited you in Amaranthine, and completely by coincidence, I rescued Fergus from some refugee bandits. He told me that Liss survived.  I know I should have written to you about it at that very moment. She is your friend too, after all. To no one’s surprise, I handled my emotions poorly, and I have been working to get everything sorted out ever since.  I hope the news of her survival will make you happy enough that you are not too cross with me about not telling you sooner.

See you soon.

Love,

Nathaniel

P.S. I miss Thomas, too.

Dear Thomas, How long do you intend to keep our sister in the dark about your survival?  I hope not indefinitely because I cannot stand lying to her about something so serious.  She loves you and deserves better.

There will be a formal celebration at the beginning of Drakonis.  If I were you, I would make certain that my arse was there.  

Love, Nathaniel

Vigil's Keep - Drakonis, 9:32 Dragon

Nathaniel stood at his mirror, adjusting his collar and making himself look presentable.  At first, he had loathed the notion of individually tailored Warden formal wear on principle, however, he could not argue that the blue dovetail overcoat— adorned with silver filigree patterns on the chest, collar, shoulders, and cuffs— suited him.  He could hardly remember owning anything so nice, even as a child when he was paraded about in front of his well-to-do Bryland grandmother like a tragic little doll. The designer was indeed remarkable at her craft.

The past few days had been eventful, to say the very least.  Two days prior, Fergus had shown up at the keep with a very large mabari in tow, who was overjoyed to be reunited with Liss, who appeared to return the sentiment.  She had greeted Bear, as she called him, before she ever said a word to Fergus. Nathaniel offered him an apology, but Fergus claimed to have expected as much from his sister.  They spent several hours catching up while Liss wrestled with the dog on the floor, chiming in to the conversation as she deemed fit. It felt almost like old times.

Then, just the day before,  Delilah and her family arrived safely from across the Waking Sea.  Her husband, Albert, was a tall, stout man with dark blonde hair and a full beard.  Despite his imposing appearance, he was soft spoken and genial, doting tenderly upon Aidan while Delilah talked to Liss.  He was the complete opposite of Father in every way. There was no question as to why Delilah adored him.

Aidan was a beautiful baby with dark eyes and a head full of raven hair.  He was not incredibly fond of meeting new people, however, fussing and crying when Nathaniel and Liss tried to hold him.  Liss had managed to console him, bouncing on her heels and humming. She was tearful, clearly thinking about her own nephew, but she managed to hold it together until later that evening.  Nathaniel held her while she cried, and promised her that envy did not make her a bad person.

Now, he was simply biding time until Delilah’s celebration began, attempting to ignore the ache in his chest and the years of painful memories he had come to associate with noble gatherings.  Rationally, he could tell himself that this was different, that father was no longer alive to torment him, and that it was going to be fun. However, there seemed to be no convincing himself of that emotionally.  Dread loomed over him, like a dark cloud foreboding a storm, but dissipated quickly when there was a knock at the door.

“Yes,” he asked as he pulled the door open, recoiling when it was not a uniformed guard as he expected, but rather an elf in dark armor with an unusual facial tattoo spanning his left temple and cheek bone, “Who are you?”

“The Warden-Commander told me you would be suspicious, and you did not disappoint.” The man let out a hearty laugh before continuing.  “I am Zevran Arainai, at your service. I met your father once. He hired me to kill dear Lucia, a mission I am pleased to have failed.”

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. “You’re an assassin?”

“ Was an assassin,” he corrected, “Now, I kill assassins.  A much better profession, no?”

“Can I help you?”

“Right, right,” Zevran said with another laugh, “Straight to the point.  There are two things. First, Lucia asked me to tell you she needs to speak with you before the festivities begin.  She is waiting up on the battlements.”

“She couldn’t have just sent a guard?” A smirk twitched on Nathaniel’s lips.

“Well, I had a delivery to make, and since I was coming to find you anyway…”

“A delivery?”

The elf grinned mischievously and glanced to his left, nodding at something or someone who stood next to him.  He stepped to the side and another figure took his place, face obscured by a dark hood. The figure reached up to pull back the hood, and Nathaniel’s breath caught in his throat as familiar blue eyes stared back at him.

“T-thomas,” he said reaching forward and placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders.

“The one and only,” Thomas answered, voice strained even as a smile stretched across his face.

“What are you doing here,” Nathaniel asked as he embraced his brother briefly, punctuating the hug with a pat on the back.

“Got your letter,” Thomas said, holding out a piece of parchment and sighing, “Despite the fact that I loathe being battered into submission by my own guilt, you were right to do so. It wasn’t fair to keep Delilah in the dark like that.”

“So she knows you’re here?”

“I held the baby and everything.  I’m a little wounded that she named him after you instead of memorializing her deceased brother.”

“She doesn’t have a deceased brother,” Nathaniel stated dryly.  

“She didn’t know that,” Thomas exclaimed, and in the background, the elf snickered. “Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and have a touching, brotherly moment before all of the festivities start.  I wouldn’t want to pry you away from Lady Elissa.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“Accidentally bumped into her in the hallway without my hood on a bit ago.  It was awkward. She cried, and you know how horrible I am when people cry.”

Nathaniel laughed and shook his head. “I am certain you handled it appropriately.”

“If you say so,” Thomas sighed.  He paused for a moment, glanced at Zevran and then brought his eyes back to Nathaniel. “You should probably go speak to your commander now.  Apparently, it’s important. I will catch up with you later.”

“You better.”

As soon as his brother and Zevran disappeared down the hallway, Nathaniel made his way outside and up the several flights of steps to the battlements.  It was nearing dusk, and the deep orange of sunset burned across the chilly evening sky. He saw Lucia immediately, her own formal blue coat and sparkling silver decoration standing out against the backdrop.  She leaned over the parapet and peered out over the courtyard. Nathaniel still had not determined whether she did that to observe the people below, or if it was simply a way for her to lose herself in her own thoughts.  Perhaps it was both.  

He approached her slowly and cleared his throat, hoping not to startle her.  She rose up off her elbows and turned to face him, smiling almost imperceptibly.  “I am glad you got my message.”

“What do you need of me?”

Lucia sighed heavily, posture drooping as she did so, more defeated than relaxed. “I received correspondence from the First Warden, and he is less than pleased with me.”

“Why,” Nathaniel inquired, “Is it because of Amaranthine?”

Laughing bitterly, she answered, “No.  He cited my ‘failure to act in accordance with Grey Warden protocol.’ I was a Grey Warden for less than a day when the Blight fell into my lap.  There was no protocol.”

“The First Warden can rot,” he remarked, only somewhat joking.

Lucia snorted and shook her head.  “I am doing the best I can with the resources available to me.  I think that he would have been satisfied with that answer had I not ‘let’ Anders run off.”

“You did not ‘let’ him do anything.  He did not exactly ask for permission.”

The mage had left Vigil’s Keep, possessed by Justice just a week or so prior.  There would have been no stopping him without killing him, and nobody wanted to do that.  He was their friend.

“He hasn’t ever asked for permission for as long as I’ve known him.” She frowned, a line forming between her brows. “I should have known.”

“You saved his life,” Nathaniel pointed out,  “If you had not conscripted him, who is to say the Templars would not have had him executed as soon as they returned to Kinloch Hold.”

“I know, but to him it was as if I slapped another set of shackles on his wrists. I understand.”  She smiled again, but this time, there was a sadness to it that had not been present before. “I did not ask you to come here so that I could complain about Anders for the fiftieth time.”

“Why did you send for me, then?”

“To appease the First Warden I am falling in line with as much of standard protocol as I can conscience.  I refuse to let people enter their Joinings unprepared, no matter how much he twists my arm.” She paused and took a step away from the parapet, turning to face Nathaniel “But they are correct in that it would serve me well to appoint a second-in-command.  If anything, recent events have proven that I need one.”

“So, Alistair, then?”

She shook her head.   “I asked him his thoughts on the matter, considering that he is technically the most senior Warden in the country and should, for all intents and purposes, outrank me.”

“Let me guess,” Nathaniel added, “He wanted nothing to do with it.”

“He thinks it should be you.”  She hesitated. “And I am inclined to agree with him.”

He flinched, words stunning him as if they’d been lobbed in his direction from across an empty room.  “You’re serious.”

“I typically am.” Lucia smirked, and then continued.  “Looking back over these past few months I see how I leaned on you for so many things, both related to the Wardens and otherwise.  You have never let me down, not once. You supported my most difficult decisions. You placed yourself in harm's way to save my life.”

“You would be comfortable with having a second-in-command who is an insubordinate arse?”  Nathaniel raised his eyebrows, grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“I was comfortable with having a Grey Warden who wanted me dead.  Insubordination is a non-issue,” she explained matter-of-factly, “Besides, I think that a good second-in-command would not be afraid to oppose and challenge me when necessary.”

He thought for a moment, considering the weight of such a position, and what it meant for his future.  He could not see himself refusing. The Wardens had given him a new life, a new purpose, and he was proud that Lucia considered him for the title.

“If you are certain,” he said, finally,” Then I gladly accept.”

“I am,” she assured him, looking down and pulling a small, silver brooch in the shape of an encircled griffon feather from her pocket.  She reached forward and began to pin it to the collar of his coat. “Here. A symbol of your new rank.”

“And what is my new rank?”  He watched as she finished securing the pin and pulled away.

“Warden-Constable,” she said, flashing a grin and patting him gently on the shoulder. “Thank you.  For everything.”

He bit back the sting of tears, and replied. “It has been my honor.”

“Yes, well.”  Lucia cleared her throat, uncomfortable with whatever emotion she currently felt, “I should probably go check on Alistair before the festivities begin.  He was not thrilled with the new outfit, claims armor would be more comfortable.”

Nathaniel chuckled quietly and nodded.  “I will see you downstairs.”

They parted ways, and Nathaniel made his way back inside and down to the corridor where the Wardens’ quarters lay.  With the visit from Thomas and meeting with Lucia, he was most certainly late, but he hoped that Liss had not gone ahead to the main hall without him.  Ridiculous as it was, he looked forward to escorting her. He approached her door and knocked.

“Come in,” Liss chirped without so much as asking who was there.  

Nathaniel twisted the knob and pushed open the door, entering the room slowly.  Liss stood on the far side, back to him as she looked into a mirror, pinning her hair back from her face.  She turned to face him, her smile illuminating the entire room and warming him to the core.

“Hey Nate,” she said, twirling around in her new attire, dark gray breeches and a long blue overcoat with slitted sleeves that ran the length of the coat.  The bust and collar were adorned with similar silver decorations as his own coat, but the neckline swooped down just below her collarbone. She stopped and glanced down before flicking her eyes back up to him. “What do you think?”

“I— you look…” Nathaniel attempted a sentence, grasping for any words that made sense.  He laughed, gathered himself, and continued. “Beautiful seems like an understatement.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She laughed and moved to straighten his collar, noticing the new griffon wing pinned there.  She ran her thumb over the surface and brought her eyes up to him, grinning uncontrollably. “Warden-Constable.”

He eyed her curiously. “How did you know?”

“Alistair let it slip a few days ago. Made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you.”

“You are terrible at keeping secrets. I am not certain how you managed.”

“I wanted you to be surprised,” she explained, reaching up to pinch his cheek.  She giggled when he scowled. “Also, as it turns out, seeing that crooked, proud smile of yours when you walked in was entirely worth the wait.”

“Are you flirting with me, my lady,” he asked, bringing his hands to her waist.

“Maybe.” Liss eyes glittered with amusement as she pressed herself flush against him and tilted her head back, “What of it?”  

“Nothing,” he whispered, leaning forward to capture her lips. It was brief and gentle, just enough to make the air in the room feel heavier.  He moved to kiss her again, but was interrupted by a nudge at his legs and a loud bark. Liss pressed her lips together and huffed, looking down at the enormous dog beside them.

“Bear,” she scolded, “Jealousy is unbecoming for a hound of your pedigree.”

Bear hung his head and whimpered, tail slowing its wagging to a halt.  Liss knelt down and scratched roughly behind his ears, and he peeked up instantly.

“Besides,” she added, “I’ve got room enough in my heart for both of you.”

Bear barked cheerfully, appearing to be satisfied with her answer, and trotted away to lay on his bed in the corner of the room.  Liss rose to her feet and sighed. “Sorry, he’s just territorial. He’ll get over it, I’m sure.”

“I can’t blame him,” Nathaniel teased, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. “It is no doubt for the best that he interrupted us.  We’re already late enough as it is.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said with feigned annoyance.  

“Shall we head downstairs, my lady,” he asked, offering her his arm.  

She smiled and accepted, hooking her arm through his.  “Lead the way, my love.”

Nathaniel froze, stunned by the innocent, yet incredibly powerful turn of phrase.  He had to remind himself to breathe, and when he looked at Liss, she bit her lip. Laughing and shaking his head, he led her down the hallway and toward the stairwell.

As they entered the hall, bustling with people, from nobility to Wardens, soldiers to servants, Nathaniel realized the dread he’d expected to loom over him the whole evening had not returned.  Instead, as he scanned the room that looked so different from its typical austerity, he saw his friends and family, people who cared for him and respected him. For so many years, his father’s opinion of him had rung so loudly in his ears, he could hear no one else.  He expected to spend his days miserable and his nights lonely, to matter to no one and amount to nothing. None of it was true, and it never had been.  

He turned his head to look at Liss, her presence at his side like sunlight to a wilted flower, constant and encouraging just as it alway was. He had never quite been able to come up with a definitive reason for why he fell in love with her so many years ago. He had never understood what it was that made her so different from any other beautiful, kind person he had known.  But now, he knew.

The way she looked at him now, standing at the highest point in his life so far, was completely indistinguishable from the way she looked at him when he was nothing more than a miserable, grumpy child. She had seen value in him when he was convinced he did not have any, and she had never given up her determination to show him just exactly what she saw.

She loved him when there was not much to love, and for that reason among many others, he would love her forever.

He had spent so many summers hidden away while everyone else celebrated, pretended he hated eating, drinking, and merry-making so that it felt like staying in his room was a choice.  He had wasted so many chances to have fun, to drink a bit too much, to make friends, to kiss his dearest friend until their lips were numb. He was not certain now how he had so much restraint as a child and adolescent.  He knew without question he could not manage it now.

He was tired of temperance.

Tonight, surrounded by friends and loved ones, at a get-together so much like those of his youth, he had a chance to finally live.

[queenofkings121-blog]

Chose Wrong pt.3

It's been two years since the Avengers announced the death of Y/ and the world mourned. They had lost one of their best defenders. What Earth lost, Asgard gained. Y/N woke up in Asgard with Loki by her side. Her savior. Loki had sensed distress from his best friend and he left Asgard for Earth no later than the second he found out what had happened. She was the only girl who accepted him without him jumping through hoops to prove himself. We all had tried to kill each other at one point or another. You just did it on a larger scale. That was her reasoning when he had asked her. He just smiled. He finally had a friend.

When he had rescued Y/N, he had brought her to Asgard. He didn't trust the doctors of Earth to keep her alive. She had lost her left arm and she was losing her life just as fast. When she woke up two weeks after she had decided to stay. She loved the Avengers, but she needed a break. Some might call her selfish, but even heroes need breaks. The Asgardians welcomed her with open arms, especially after she helped the 'Revengers', as Thor called their group of five that consisted of himself, Bruce (whom Y/N was delighted to see), Loki, Y/N, and Valkyrie, defeat their sister. Asgardians remained on their land, and Thanos has been conquered and compromised. Time of peace was upon them.

That was three months after Y/N woke up. She has decided to stay and help rebuild the beautiful kingdom. In that time she and Loki had grown new feelings for each-other. They didn't know when it had happened, they just knew that they now held the other in higher regards. Everyone knew, even themselves but they weren't ready for the next step. So, they just settled with being close, flirting, and simple kisses here and there. Nothing too scandalous, or too serious. Thor was over the moon that his brother was now truly happy. He will always be the God of Mischief, but now he wasn't trying to overtake worlds. Y/N was enough for him.

The group of five were sitting in the throne room when they decided that it was time for them to visit Earth and their family. Bruce was nervous. He didn't know how to handle meeting Nat. It's been two years for Y/N, but longer for him. He settled next to her, whom he noticed was just as nervous as he was. He knew why. It wasn't because of Steve. No, she was over it. She was nervous reuniting with Tony. She felt guilty for leaving him. She missed him dearly.

The five were transported in front of Stark Tower and they walked in. Those nearby captured their arrival on camera and it was soon trending. Especially Y/N and Bruce, seeing as they were both pronounced dead two years prior.

The Avengers stood up and greeted them enthusiastically Bruce had calmed considerably when Nat ran to him and enveloped him in a tight hug followed by a kiss. They were however stunned that Aries stood before them. They had all saw her arm. It was similar to Bucky's, but they didn't mention it. They didn't know the boundaries of comfort with it, so they just ignored it. Steve stood dumbfounded. Tony was as still as a stone statue. They had all stared at Aries, but she stared at one in general. Tony. She could see the look of betrayal, love, and relief in his eyes. She had expected Tony to kick her out or walk out of the room. She did not expect him to run to her. She came to her senses and ran to meet him half way. Tony had tears running down his face as he embraces the young girl tightly in his arms.

"Y/N Stark Y/L/N! You will never leave my sight again." Tony said sternly still hugging the girl. She giggled at the name. Stark. He wanted people to know that this was as close as he would get to having a daughter, so he gave her his name. Having it as a last name would've been too much, so they both settled for it as a second name.

"I'm so sorry Ton. I am so, so, so, so, so—"

Tony chuckled. For the first time in years he could breathe. Like nothing was holding him down. The death of Y/N, Bruce, or any of it. The return of his 'daughter' has brought light upon his life once again and he couldn't be happier.

The rest of the group looked at them in awe. Steve was the only one with sad eyes. The girl he lost is back and now he was reliving his heartbreak. He watched as she caught up with the team about her life in Asgard, joking that her and Bucky were now twins. She smiled and laughed with the rest of the team. He noticed that Loki was always nearby and touching her. If it wasn't a hand on her leg, it's his leg next to hers, or she's sitting on his lap, like right now. The group had given them knowing glances and looks but they both shrugged it off.

She smiled when she caught him looking at her. Well, staring would be a better word. He hasn't been able to take his eyes off her since she made her presence known. She whispered something to Loki before she got up and walked towards the balcony. With one look Steve knew she wanted him to follow her.

They stood in silence for a while before Y/N broke it.

"Where's Peggy?" she asked. There was no animosity or hatred.

"I don't know." She looked up at him confusion written on her face. "After we buried you, well your arm, I figured out where my heart was. It wasn't with her. It was with you. It always has been, but I was too blind to see it. I made a choice and I deeply regret it. The way I had hurt you. I will never forgive myself for it."

"Well, you should, because I did." He was surprised to hear this. She has forgiven him already. She forgave the man who had broken her trust within an hour of proposing. The man who made her a second choice. "I forgave you because I wanted to be happy, and I couldn't do that if I had some hatred towards you and Peggy. It wasn't easy, but I did it. It's easier when you are falling for someone else."

"Loki?" he asked but he knew.

She nodded with a small smile on her face. "I truly do love him, Steve. People assume the worst in him, but he isn't all that bad. He treats me like a Queen."

"The only way you should ve treated." Steve interrupted.

Y/N gave a small smile his way. "We haven't made it official, but that's just title's. He tests my patience at time, but that man holds my heart."

Although his heart was breaking once again, he was happy that she was happy.

"It's time for you to move on too Steve. I still love you, but not like that. You were my friend before you were my fiancé." She smiled and kissed his cheek gently before walking into the building.

She was met with Loki looking at her with tears in his eyes, the rest were quiet.

"Love, you really mean all that? You really love me?" Loki asked as a single tear rolled down his cheek, leaving the team stunned. Loki, the man who had tried to take over their world is crying.

Y/N smiled slightly and nodded. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it Loki."

Without saying another word, Loki walked forward and kissed Y/N like there was no tomorrow. They've kissed in the pass, yes, but it was fleeting and just pecks. This conveyed the love they held for the other.

Tony watched with a playful disgust, the others were all sported smiles, but Thor was the proudest of them all. He would forever be grateful for Y/N. She had shown Loki how to love, be happy, and how to accept himself. She made him see his true self, and that wasn't the monster everyone thought he was. Most of all, she made Loki see his self-worth, and Thor couldn't be more thankful for her.

Steve watched with a small smile on his face. She was truly happy, and with that knowledge he knew that he would eventually move on and be happy himself. 

*Sorry this was horribly written.*

@your-highnessmarvel @meyoko10 @animegirlgeeky

[swtorramblings]

I Shall Save Myself: We Know

Art by @fleeting-sanity of the family snow day. Something a bit more light-hearted, a chapter from I Shall Save Myself, where the family is somewhat together. Arcann and Senya meet with Vaylin to take her on a mission where her power might be useful, and the anarchy she brings with her won’t be a hindrance.

Out of order still, it’s the last thing I had notes for that included Arcann, which I wanted to get out this week. 

He still could not believe they were here. He could sense her from here, and she was not happy they were coming. He looked over and asked, “Why are we doing this again?” She looked back and said, “We’ve discussed this. You agreed. Her power will be helpful.” “Yes, as long as she doesn’t turn it on us.” “I thought you were getting along?” He let out a long sigh. “At times. But she still does not have pleasant thoughts about you. You at least contacted her first?” “Of course. Don’t worry. I’m told she likes a good fight.” “That, at least, is true.” “Then she should be interested.” “You’re assuming she will give you time to talk.” “Have you been told you worry too much?” “It has been mentioned. In any event, she’s seen us. It’s too late to run.”

She stood in the wilderness, several kilometers from her home, at the nearest clearing large enough to land the ship. They wanted to leave immediately after talking with her. They hadn’t told her what this was about, and she’d been getting impatient. She was punctual. She was also getting bored. Did they not know how little she liked being bored? Oh. Right. But that was then. She was trying. They had finished their landing. She could sense the team within, but only two emerged. She put on a crystalline smile and greeted them. “Mother. Brother. How are you?”

She was smiling at them. That was actually more disturbing than her usual expression of rage. You could count on that rage, trust it. “Daughter. We are well.” “I am so glad.” “Sister…” “No, Arcann, I know the Empress of the Eternal Empire would not drag her only daughter so far from home for no good reason.” Senya sighed. That was going to be the way of it, then. “Very well, Vaylin. The Empress of the Eternal Empire would request your assistance with a matter of some importance.” Vaylin looked at her quizzically. “You do know I hate you both, yes?” The question was directed at Senya, but Arcann answered. “We know.” Vaylin finally reverted to her customary scowl. “And that I am a fugitive from the Empire? Hated throughout the galaxy? An uncontrolled creature of anarchy and destruction?” Senya smiled at that. “Yes. All of that. It makes you perfect for the task.”

That got Vaylin’s attention, finally. She began to smile, as well. Arcann noted how much they looked alike when they smiled. Neither did so as often as he’d like. Of course, they had little reason to. He broke in. “Understand, the mission is dangerous.” “Where would be the fun if it wasn’t?” “And we are asking, you can refuse.” “No, no, why would I? It sounds like a wonderful family outing!” “If you are sure.” She looked very happy about it, indeed. Then, she asked the question he knew would ruin her mood. “So, where are we going?” He left that to their mother. “Hoth.” That downward turn to her expression almost made him laugh. He thought better of it. “Oh, I hate you both so much.”

“We know,” her mother told her. What, were they taking turns, now? “Fine,” she grumped. “I said I would go, I’ll go. I want something back for it, though.” “What would you like?” “I’ll let you know. You’re the Empress, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” They walked on board the small ship and Senya ordered them to be on their way.

She looked at her daughter, seeing the missed chances. She wondered if there had ever been a way for the girl to be whole. Still, she was here, now, broken or not. Senya would take it. “You recall the Exarchs?” “Arcann’s little servants? Yes, I recall. Quite powerful, I’m sure.” “Don’t be overconfident, Sister. At least one survived the war.” “And he has access to the remains of a Star Fortress.” “What? On Hoth? You sent one of your great weapons to Hoth? Why?”

Arcann hesitated. So many crimes. “The ship’s graveyard. It is a treasury of weapons and technology I wished to add to Zakuul’s arsenal.” “You thought the Fleet and the Fortresses and all the rest weren’t enough? You really were trying to outdo Father, weren’t you?” Senya tried to intercede. “Vaylin, that is hardly…” “Do not get involved! You can get involved when you were there for us!” Arcann felt his mother’s pain, and surged to his feet. “Sister, enough!”

She looked up into her brother’s eyes. She felt her family’s guilt. She wondered if she should feel any. Probably. She felt Arcann’s anger. She felt the nervousness of the soldiers. She turned away. “Yes. I’m sorry.” She paused for a moment and looked back at them. “Still the surprise? I can’t survive by myself. I don’t want to any longer. I don’t forgive you, but you forgave me, I think. You’re all I have. If I have to say I’m sorry every now and then, I will.” “Thank you, Sister.” “Oh, and Mother? The fact that these soldiers just saw that means my price just went up. I’m sure none of them will speak of it. Ever.”

“Of course, Vaylin.” Oddly, even with the not so subtle threat, Senya sensed her soldiers relax. Not all of them, and only slightly, but it was there. They trusted her, but they had been wary about this mission, about even having her daughter on board. Perhaps they had begun to see her as human. They did not forget her crimes, nor Arcann’s. How could they? But the mood had shifted. If nothing else, it would make the mission easier. She would have to thank Koth. He had picked them, spoken with them. They had been skeptical, at first, but they trusted him even more than their “Empress”. The pilot, a young man named Lonn, broke in over the intercom. “We are making the jump to lightspeed, Empress.” “Very good, Captain, thank you.”

The battle had gone well. They had brought only two score troops, but they were very good, and with the support of his family, there had been some injuries, but no deaths. So far, at least. The Exarch had not made an appearance. That could change everything. He was just finishing yet another group of Skytroopers. He really had made too many of the things. It was just as well he had lost the production facility. Then, he saw with a touch of horror the reason the Exarch was not in the fight. He had been working to make the Star Fortress operational. He ran back to Senya’s side, but was too late. The Star Fortress, damaged as it was, began to rise from the snow. If he escaped with it, its main weapon alone would allow him to kill thousands, perhaps more. Probably starting with Arcann, his family, and the soldiers they had brought along. With a single blast. They looked up with some shock. They had come prepared to destroy the remains of this weapon, not to stop even a partially operational one. Then, Senya simply called out, “Vaylin! You have to stop him!” What? Vaylin appeared to agree with him. “What? Stop that? I could never stop that! Are you insane?” Senya answered first. “There’s no other way! If anyone can, it’s you!” Arcann did try to lend support, but he didn’t quite feel it. “Yes, you have the best chance. Please, try.” “Oh, I hate you! Both! So! Much!” He lifted his mechanical hand and did a quick count. It was his turn. “We know.” He leaped forward, making sure the field was clear to let his sister do whatever she was going to do.

Vaylin looked up at the Fortress. She knew that, even at the height of her power, she couldn’t have brought that thing down. Not Force against force, anyway. Instead, she stretched out with her senses, probing, considering, predicting. The way she had when she made her prison into her home. If it had been whole, she might not have found anything. As it was, it would still take considerable concentration. She raised an eyebrow, then a hand, then the lightning. She hoped the pirates could move fast. When she released her power, it was in a tight, brilliant blast. Not the wonderful chaos she was so fond of unleashing, but what was needed for the task. The power core of the central cannon was exposed. Her blast punched through its outer casing, ripped through the delicate crystals inside. Crystals like those she had retrieved from Odessan, but torn from their worlds, losing their songs. Dead already, their corpses being used to destroy other lives. The kind of weapon Valkorion was so fascinated by. It gave her great pleasure to destroy it, and not only because the explosion gave her the chaos she craved. She was about to smile at the falling debris. It really was a beautiful sight. Then, she felt it, and muttered, “This again? Now? In front of Mother?” She clenched her fists in rage.

Senya was leading her soldiers against the Exarch’s stragglers when she heard Vaylin calling out, “Arcann!” Something was wrong. Was she injured? She shouldn’t have come. There was no excuse for putting her in danger again. It was bad enough that her son was here, but he had the proper training and discipline. For all her power, Vaylin didn’t. He was at her daughter’s side. She began to head back, herself. “Yes, Sister? Are you well?” The only answer was Vaylin’s knees folding under her, as she sagged against him. Senya doubled her pace.

He caught his sister easily enough. Her head had dropped to her chest, there was no strength in her limbs. He lifted her, then noticed she was trying to say something. He craned  his head forward so he could hear her over the wind. “’M all right, just tired. Weak.” He looked at the flaming wreckage. “Yes, Sister. Weak.” “’M the sarcastic one.” Their mother reached them. “Arcann? Is she all right?” “Yes, Mother, she says she just exhausted herself.” Senya reached out, almost brushing the hair out of her daughter’s face, but then let her hand drop. “Thank goodness. I’m sorry, Vaylin.” She was speaking, and Arcann leaned down again to hear. He let out a short laugh. It was a kind of relief that she was still herself. Senya couldn’t have heard, but she still responded. “We know.”

[forgottencandy]

Dear Patrick,

(Part 2 of 4)

I hated you Patrick. I wished the worst for you for the longest time. You harassed me in the beginning. I was scared. I didn’t know how far you would go, you took it further each step. I didn’t have Henry to protect me from you yet.

When Henry left with his gang, you lingered a little longer. You managed to take me to a junkyard once. You chased me, when I thought I was safe. I hid in a old car, my heart never beat so fast. I held in my breath for the longest time. I was hoping to never meet your gaze, but it seems the world was on your side that day. As soon as I slowly slid up out of the seat to see if you were gone, I heard the door open. My heart sank seeing your dark smile.

You instantly grabbed a hold of my leg, yanking me toward you. I yelped in fear and tried kicking, only for you to hold me down. You slobbered kisses all over me, I was desperate to shove you away. I couldn’t. I felt your hand reach my chest, you didn’t hold back your grip. I felt my eyes start to water. As soon as your hand started to lower itself on my body, another voice was heard. You growled and whispered into my ear, “I will find you later, slut.” you snickered. As soon as you removed yourself from me, I scurried away. As I made way into the trees, I looked back to see you and the gang. I wiped my eyes, for they were about to spill tears.

The next day, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to school. I was afraid to see you again. I did, however, and I did see you. You were the first person I seen. That same day, is when Henry came to harass me in the bathroom.

I hated him as well. He would do things you would, lower my confidence. But Henry at least asked if I wanted to do something. Unlike you, Patrick. Guess that’s why I fell for him. He kept perusing me, not forcing me into anything. It was the same thing for a month. I tried to leave the class less often, but when I did, Henry was there.

I fell for Henry, I know, stupid. But I got to properly meet all of you fuckers. I even managed to not hate you.

We became friends Patrick, even if you didn’t really know how to get along with people. I accepted you.

I guess you learned to back off when I became Henry’s. You didn’t harass me the way you used to when I didn’t have Henry. I don’t know why, but I forgave you. I didn’t know why I forgave any of you. But because of all of you, I learned to have fun. That’s what I love about all of you. I even loved you Patrick, you became a part of me. I will miss you, and I hope you miss me too.

When I found Henry making out with some other girl, you don’t understand how hurt I was. I even wanted to…hurt…Henry. I guess I got that from you, Patrick. I wanted Henry to suffer, yet I felt horrible for feeling that.

When we were in the car, I didn’t bother speaking to Henry. Instead, I crawled over the seat. I sat right on your lap, I held your face in my hands. I examined your face, my eyes resting on your lips. I ignored Henry commanding me to come back to the front. Instead, I pulled you closer. I whispered into your ear, “Mind if I come over?” I giggled. You smirked, which I took as a yes.

I was tempted to smash my lips onto yours, like you used to do to me. I was upset with Henry. I wanted someone else to comfort me. I didn’t want Belch, or Vic. I wanted you, Patrick. Belch was like a brother, and Vic was just too sweet to do what I wanted.

I ignored Henry yelling at me for sitting on your lap. Why would I care? He threw away my love. He even got Belch to stop the damn car. He yanked me out with him, he yelled questions at me. I just grew annoyed, I slapped him. The whole car went quite. I started walking down the road, Belch trying to reason Henry and me out. I only kept walking. I was quite happy to see you jump out to follow me.

You threw an arm around my shoulders, which managed to make me smile. We didn’t bother speaking. We kept walking, but as soon as I seen your house. I felt my heart flutter like I used to with Henry. I bit my lip, I looked up to see you with a peaceful expression for once. I smiled and stopped walking. You stopped and looked down at me confused. “I need you Patrick.” I said and jumped into your arms. I smashed my lips onto yours, and you chuckled. You held me up by my legs. You managed to carry us the rest of the way to your house. You kicked the door open and slammed it shut.

You tossed me onto the couch, and we did just as I wanted. We fucked. I was quite weak from our events, so you showed me your inventory of dead animals.

I wasn’t disgusted by any of it, guess I grew used to bad things. I smiled at how proud you were of showing me. I got to know you more from that point. Later that same night, I decided to sleep over. We both fell asleep on your bed, my head resting on your chest.

When we woke up, we got dressed and ate breakfast. You introduced me to your mother, who seemed to be quite paranoid. Belch drove up, and as expected, Henry got out. He held a glare, I didn’t bother looking at him. I tried walking past him and getting in with no problem, but he had different plans. “What were you doin’ at his house?” Henry growled holding both my arms. I still felt a spark, even if he was upset with me.

I looked over at you, which you had no expression. That’s when I realized, you felt nothing for me. You couldn’t.

I did what I felt was right, I know you didn’t love me. No one would, but I was so damn desperate to feel loved. I smashed my lips onto Henry’s. Forgiving him for breaking my heart. He was taken back, but kissed me anyway. “Needed a place to stay.” I said sitting in the back.

I was still upset with Henry, of course. Yet I felt like I could change you. I wanted someone who was dedicated to me. I hoped that could be you, Patrick. Because Henry disappointed me in that.

You sat in the back next to me, placing a hand on my inner thigh. I still tempted with you, even though I knew I was getting no where. You won’t like to hear this, but you did a favor for me Patrick.

Don’t worry, no one else will see this letter but you. I have personally placed it on your desk.

Your favor was you pretending to like me, you let me go to you. You only liked getting yourself off. I was so stupid to think I could change someone like you.

Yet I couldn’t help it. I started falling for you too Patrick.

Under your touch, I felt my eyes water. Yet I didn’t feel sad.

That’s when I realized; I could no longer feel emotions, like you Patrick.

I once loved Henry, the one I thought I would end up marrying. Only to be cheated on. I was an asshole to the only person who cared about me. I thought I could make someone love me, or even like me. I thought I could get you to love me. If you didn’t know, I’m not here anymore. Because I sure as hell got overwhelmed with life.

The ride was quite, not any tension, just no one wanted to speak. I laid my head on your shoulder, which immediately gained Henry’s attention.

I knew he didn’t like that, but for some reason, I didn’t feel anything about it. I used to never want to do anything that could upset Henry. Guess that changed.

We made our way to school. As we walked in, you put your arm around me. Which caused Henry to pull you away from me.

I believe any girl would love to be fought over by two handsome boys like yourselves. I just didn’t know why I felt nothing. I didn’t even smile anymore.

We walked down the halls, only to decide to stay by a few lockers. You guys snickered as the losers walked by. Usually I would join in, but I was arguing with my own thoughts.

I stared down at the floor, thinking over and over about how I could fix my problems. I imagined many ways to get you to not see me as a toy, but someone to love.

I know, “You’re too young to know what love is.” But I felt it. With Henry, and with you Patrick. You made me feel like I had a chance.

You guys went off to bully some kids, but me, I stayed in the same place. I leaned against the wall, and the bell rang. The kids quickly made way to their classes.

As I was alone in the hallway, I realized that is how I felt. Even with all the people around me, I felt alone.

I closed my eyes and slid down that wall. I may have had a imperfect life, but it only got worse joining you. It was my fault. But what drove me to leave, was the people.

I felt a lump in my throat form, I could have prevented everything that happened. But I was stupid to wear my heart on my sleeve.

I held my hands to my face and started crying. I heard the arguing in my head increase.

I stayed like that for the longest time, then I heard some kid ask if I was ok.

I snapped.

I jumped on the kid and started strangling him, my tears falling on his face. After minutes of strangling him, he quit moving. The bell rang, and I blinked my eyes.

The kid was still there. I cleared my eyes and stood up. I walked out those doors, I didn’t bother looking back.

I kept walking, only to bump into you. You smiled, and I felt that lump again. I quickly pressed my lips onto yours; hoping I would feel those butterflies like I used to.

You smiled into the kiss, like we used to. But as I expected, I felt nothing. I pulled away, and continued walking.

You didn’t follow me like you used to, but I wish you did. Because if you did, maybe I would have been okay.

But that doesn’t make sense, does it?

I love you Patrick, and I wish you loved me too.

Goodbye Patrick.

[swanqueeneverafter]

26. Second Star to the Right, Pt.2

Nineteenth Century London. Past. (In the Darling family's nursery room, Mary has just said good night to the children, and they are all now fast asleep—except Wendy, who is staring out the open window.) Wendy: “Bae! Look! It's him, the shadow!” Baelfire: (Goes to the window, alarmed to see the Shadow has indeed arrived:) “No, No, Wendy, get away from there.” Wendy: “You don't have to be afraid. He doesn't want to hurt us. He's from another land—a land with magic, but it's... different from where you came from.” (The Shadow gives his hand to Wendy, she accepts.) Baelfire: “Wendy, please, don't listen to him.” Wendy: “It's called Neverland. And there are no grown-ups there, and children never grow old. And we can do anything we want, even fly!” (She begins to leave into the sky with the Shadow, but Baelfire grabs her by her other hand to prevent it.) Baelfire: “It's a trick. Don't go with him. You don't need magic! You have a family right here. That's the only thing that matters!” Wendy: “This is what I've always dreamed of. You just don't believe.” (Wendy slips her hand out of Baelfire's and flies away into the night sky with the Shadow.) Baelfire: “Wendy! Wendy!” (She disappears into the night with the Shadow.) Storybrooke. Present. (Along a beach shoreline, Neal and Emma are searching for Tamara and Regina.) Neal: (Jokingly:) “So, ah, where do you think she's hiding Regina, in a sandcastle?” Emma: “They have to be somewhere.” Neal: “Emma, you're letting your emotions getting in the way of your judgement.” Emma: “Do you really think this is all about me trying to break up you and Tamara? What do want to hear, Neal? That it killed me that you never came looking for me even once I was locked up?” Neal: “Emma...” Emma: “That it didn't hurt that you found Tallahassee with someone else?” (Just then, Tamara jogs up.) Tamara: “Neal?!” Neal: “Hey!” Tamara: “Hey. What are you doing down here?” Neal: “We were, we're just—I thought you go running in the woods?” Tamara: “Yeah, I start in the woods but then I run along the beach. Is everything alright?” Emma: “Regina's missing.” Tamara: “Oh my god. That's terrible.” Emma: “I thought maybe she was down here but I was wrong.” Tamara: “Well, I'm sure she'll turn up somewhere. Let me know if I can help at all. See you later.” (She gives Neal a kiss and continues running.) Neal: “Emma...” Emma: “I think I should go.” Neal: “I wanted to go to jail for you.” Emma: “Neal.” Neal: “It kills me I let August talk me into letting you go.” Emma: “I don't want to hear it.” Neal: “Yeah, but I have to say it. I wanted to look for you. I just—I, I was to afraid.” Emma: “Of what?” Neal: “That you would never forgive me. 'Cause I never forgave myself. There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I don't regret having left you. I'm sorry, Emma, for everything.” Emma: “Me too.”

Storybrooke. Present. Inside The Storybrooke Cannery Co. (Tamara enters while Spencer continues torturing Regina.) Tamara: “Everything's taken care of.” Spencer: “They bought it?” Tamara: “As far as Emma and Neal are concerned, I'm just running along the beach. How are things going with (Sarcastically:) the Queen?” Spencer: “I’ll have her mewling like a kitten before too long, right, Regina?” (He turns the machine on again, this time even more powerful and painful than before. She groans in excruciating agony until Spencer turns it off, though she is still extremely weak.) Regina: “You have no... idea who you're dealing with.” Tamara: “Actually, no, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.” Regina: “A fool in over her head who goes around stealing magic.” Tamara: “Stealing magic. (Chuckles:) That's what you think I’m here to do? I’m here to destroy it. Magic does not belong in this world. It's unholy. I’m here to cleanse this land of it.” Regina: (Chuckles:) “You think you can destroy magic? Just the two of you?” Spencer: “Well, I’m up for giving it a good try. Magic destroyed my life. My wife drank a potion that left her barren. The magical Imp replaced my son James with that defective Charming, which lead to the loss of my Kingdom. So, if it’s a choice of continuing to live amongst abominations like you or destroying you all, I know my answer.” Regina: “This little quest of yours, to cleanse the world of magic, it won’t work.” Tamara: “No, of course it will. Do you think that Storybrooke was the first time that magic has crossed over? Magic has been doing its damage for a long time. And people like us—we're here to stop it. (Tamara pulls an object from her pocket and holds it up:) Once this stone is activated it’ll destroy all the magic in this land. (Regina’s eyes widen in horror:) We've done it before, and we'll do it again.” (Tamara nods and Spencer turns the machine back on.) Storybrooke. Present. The Apartment. (David is helping his wife recover from the literal shock of her shared experience with Regina.) David: “Mary Margaret? Are you okay?” Mary Margaret: (In a weak whisper:) “It was awful. The worst pain I've ever felt. Wherever Regina is, she's powerless. She can't fight back.” David: “Could you—could you see where she was? Could you see who was keeping her there?” Mary Margaret: “I just remember... pain... (Whispers:) and screaming.” David: “Okay, okay, okay. Concentrate. The smallest detail might lead us to her.” Mary Margaret: (Breathing heavily:) “I don't know. Oh, my hands were tied down. And my legs... (Breathing heavily:) It was cold and... It smelled weird, like... sardines. (Shakes her head:) I don't know. I wish I could remember more.” (Mary Margaret falls into David's arms.) David: “Shh, shh.”

Storybrooke. Present. (At the docks, Emma is talking to David on the phone while she and Neal walk together.) Emma: “So she didn't see anything?” David: “Uh, not much. She could sense Regina was in pain. It was cold. She was strapped down. She said she could smell sardines.” (Suddenly, Emma eyes a building by the docks—Storybrooke Cannery, Co.) Emma: “Get down to the docks right now. (To Neal:) I was right. Tamara was not down here for a run. She was in there, with Regina.” Nineteenth Century London. Past. (It is early morning in the Darling house. Baelfire wakes up to the sound of someone landing on the windowsill where he fell asleep. He looks up to see Wendy has returned.) Wendy: “It's all right. It's just me.” Baelfire: “I thought I'd never see you again.” Wendy: “How long was I gone?” Baelfire: “Just... the night.” Wendy: “It felt like so much longer. As though time works differently in Neverland.” Baelfire: “So... what was it like over there?” Wendy: “It's an island, where there are no grown-ups to tell you what to do, but there are mermaids and fairies and all sorts of mystical creatures.” Baelfire: “Then why did you return?” Wendy: “Because when night fell, that's when all the children started to miss their parents, and cried through the night.” Baelfire: “Well, why don't they go home?” Wendy: “The Shadow won't let them. There's a reason it's called Neverland. Because once you set foot on its soil, the Shadow never let's you leave.” Baelfire: “H-how did you escape?” Wendy: “He let me go. Because he didn't want me. He wanted a boy. He's coming back tonight to take one of my brothers in my place. You said magic was bad, and you were right, Bae. It's going to destroy my family.” Baelfire: “No. I won't let anything bad happen to you or this family.” Storybrooke. Present. (In the pawnshop, Mr. Gold is showing Lacey his potions and other magical items.) Lacey: “So why didn't you tell me sooner?” Mr. Gold: “Because magic always comes with a price. It tends to drive away the people I care about most.” Lacey: “Well, then you've been caring about the wrong people. What else can you do?” Mr. Gold: (Summons a diamond necklace out of thin air and puts it around Lacey's neck:) “Anything. There are many perks to being the Dark One.” Lacey: “Immortality being one of them, right? (He nods:) Could you, uh, could you keep me young?” Mr. Gold: “Yeah.” Lacey: “ 'Cause, uh, 'cause then we can be together forever. Nothing can keep us apart. (He remains silent:) What?” Mr. Gold: “There is one thing.” Lacey: “What is it?” Mr. Gold: “Immortal means to live forever, it doesn't mean one can't be killed. There was a prophecy that... someone might be my undoing.” Lacey: “Do you know who this someone is? (He nods:) Then get rid of them. Stop them.” Mr. Gold: “It's complicated. Something's standing in my way.” Lacey: “I thought you were a man who would never let anything stand in his way.” Mr. Gold: “I am.”

Storybrooke. Present. Inside The Storybrooke Cannery Co. (Emma and Neal are sneaking through the building. Emma is holding a gun.) Emma: “Sure you wanna be here?” Neal: “I'm not gonna leave you alone in this place.” Emma: “If something does go down with Tamara I need to know you have my back.” Neal: “Emma, if Tamara is hiding Regina here in her evil lair by the docks, yeah, I got your back. “ (They both hear a clatter ahead and cautiously run up to investigate. As Emma rounds a corner with her gun drawn she runs into David, also holding a gun, and Mary Margaret. Both Emma and David lower their weapons with relief.) Emma: “What the hell, guys?” David: “Here, (Hands Emma a Walkie-Talkie:) so that doesn't happen again.” Emma: “You and Mary Margaret take the basement, we'll search the main floor. Regina's gotta be here somewhere.” (David nods and walks off with Mary Margaret. Emma and Neal continue walking cautiously. Transition to a view of a security camera screen watching Emma and Neal.) Tamara: “Time to go. (She grabs a few things, then knocks on a window to an adjacent room where Spencer is torturing Regina. Spencer walks over to her:) They've found us.” Spencer: “Who? Emma and Neal? I thought that you took care of them!” Tamara: “Yeah, so did I. Keep her restrained as long as you can then meet me at the rendezvous point when you're done.” (Leaves the room.) Spencer: (Turns a dial on the machine:) “I'm moving up the timeline. (As he is turning on the machine Regina looks worried:) Because as soon as you realise what we’re planning, the weaker you are, the better our chances.” (He turns to the machine and is about to activate it...) Regina: (Weakly:) “Wait.” Spencer: (Turns to face Regina:) “What is it?” Regina: (Smiles slowly:) “When I get out of here, I won’t need a machine to torture you.” Spencer: “Then I’ll just have to make sure you never leave this place.” (Spencer slams a button on the machine and Regina screams in agony.)

Nineteenth Century London. Past. (It is late at night in the Darling nursery. Mary Darling is wishing her children goodnight.) Mary: “Good night, my treasures.” (Mary turns out the lights and leaves the nursery. As soon as she does Baelfire sits up in bed.) Baelfire: “We have work to do.” (Baelfire pulls out a basket filled with several assorted items and he, Wendy, John, and Michael set to work preparing for the arrival of the shadow. They arm themselves, light oil lamps with Baelfire putting the box of matches into his pocket, put jacks on the windowsill, and finally lock the window.) Baelfire: “Okay. Don't worry. The shadow's not taking anyone tonight.” Wendy: “Thank you, Bae.” (She gives Baelfire a hug.) Baelfire: “You can thank me in the morning. Okay, everyone to their beds.” (The children all go to their beds when, suddenly, the oil lamps and the fireplace are blown out one by one.) Michael: “Bae...” Baelfire: “Don't be frightened. (The house starts to shake and the dog starts barking:) The Shadow! He's here! (The window opens by itself, letting a gust of wind into the house:) Get in the crawlspace! Come on, let's go!” (The children hurry towards a small crawlspace in the corner of the room as the Shadow glides in.) Wendy: (In the crawlspace with Baelfire:) “Wh-wh-where's Michael?” Baelfire: (Looking out of the crawl space:) “Michael...” Wendy: “Oh!” (Michael is still in the nursery staring up at the Shadow as it floats closer and closer towards him. The Shadow extends its hand to Michael as the other children watch.) Wendy: (To Michael:) “Don't do it! Don't go with him!” Baelfire: (Under his breath:) “Michael. (Runs over to Michael and pushes him away from the Shadow:) Michael, step back. (Turns around to face the shadow:) You want him? Take me instead!” Wendy: (Runs out from the crawlspace:) “Bae! No!” Baelfire: (To Shadow:) “You have to promise never to bother this family again!” Wendy: “No, Bae you can't!” Baelfire: (To Wendy:) “I won't let magic destroy this family. This is the only way. You have to let me go.” (Wendy, John and Michael look on, horrified, as the Shadow takes Baelfire's hand and begins to lift him out of the window. Wendy finally grabs Baelfire's other hand.) Baelfire: (Looking back to Wendy:) “Thank you, Wendy. For making me a part of your family.” (His hand pulls free of Wendy's as the Shadow succeeds in pulling him out of the window.) Wendy: “Bae! (Runs to the window:) Bae!” (Wendy, John, and Michael look on, helpless, as the Shadow ascends higher and higher with Baelfire in tow. After one last shot of the Darling children, transition to Baelfire being flown over the London rooftops, coming dangerously close to several chimneys. The skyline opens up to reveal one last look at Big Ben before the Shadow makes a course for the second star to the right, which glimmers in the distance.)

Storybrooke. Present. Inside The Storybrooke Cannery Co. (Spencer slams a button on the machine while Regina moans in pain.) Spencer: “You feel that, Regina? That's the end of you! (Slams the button again as Regina groans and convulses on the table. Finally turns the machine off as Regina collapses onto the table. Turns to her:) Now you're never gonna hurt anyone. Ever again.” (Turns to start the machine again, but is interrupted by David bursting into the room, who fires several warning shots at the machine.) David: “Don't move! (Approaches Spencer.) You?” Spencer: (Calmly:) “You don’t have it in you.” (Spencer turns and makes a bolt for a side exit. As David is about to pursue Mary Margaret enters.) Mary Margaret: “David! (David turns:) We can't leave her! She'll die if we don't get her help!” (Begins untying Regina.) David: (Stows his gun and begins to help Mary Margaret:) “We gotta get her to Mother Superior. (Over walkie-talkie:) Emma? You gotta block the exits.” Cut To: (Emma walking with Neal on the main floor.) Emma: (Over walkie-talkie:) “Already on it. You guys all right?” David: (Over walkie-talkie:) “Oh, we're fine. We found Regina, with Spencer. He's coming your way.” Emma: (Turns to Neal, confused:) “Albert Spencer? The D.A.?" Neal: “So I was right. It wasn't Tamara.” (Just as Neal and Emma are about to walk away, Tamara walks up behind Emma and hits her over the head with a pipe. Emma cries out in pain and collapses to the floor.)

Tamara: “Actually, (Grabs Emma's gun from the floor:) it was. (She cocks the gun and points it at Neal:) I just had some help.” Neal: (Bewildered:) “What are you doing, Tamara?” Tamara: “I have to keep magic out of this world, Neal. It doesn't belong here. You more than anyone should understand that. It's a poison.” Neal: (Whispers:) “You've been lying to me. (Raises voice:) How long have you been lying to me?” Tamara: “This is more important than any-” Neal: (Now shouting:) “How long?” Tamara: (Calmly:) “Since the beginning. Since I spilled coffee on you.” Neal: (Shaking head:) “It wasn't an accident. You planned it all, none of it was real.” Tamara: “Neal, you're a good man. I know that. So please try to understand, I had a job to do, an important one, one I think you can agree with.” Neal: “You never loved me.” Tamara: “No.” Neal: (Pauses for a second and then approaches her:) “I can't let you leave here, Tamara.” Tamara: “Neal, please don't make me... (She shoots his chest which he clutches as he kneels down to the floor. When he takes his hand away there's blood. She approaches him, this time with the gun aimed at his head:) I'm sorry Neal.” Emma: (Running up beside Tamara:) “You should be. (Kicks the gun out of Tamara's hand. A fight between Emma and Tamara ensues, resulting in Emma knocking Tamara to the ground. Emma then runs over to the dropped gun and points it at Tamara. Out of breath:) It's over.” Tamara: (Pulling a small item out of her pocket:) “No, it's not. (Throws magic bean onto the floor by Emma's feet. A portal starts to open where the bean lands. Emma tries to escape the portal by climbing onto an adjacent pipe on the wall. However, the pipe begins to bend under her weight, causing her to drop closer and closer to the gaping portal.) Bye.” (Tamara leaves as Emma is lowering closer and closer into the portal. Neal slowly struggles to stand.) Emma: “Aaahh!” Neal: (Standing next to the edge of the portal vortex:) “Emma! (Emma slips off the pipe only to have Neal catch her and pull her to safety:) I got you!” Emma: (Looking at Neal's wounds:) “We gotta get you to a hospital! (The floor suddenly collapses beneath Emma and Neal:) Ahh! (Emma catches Neal by the hand as she is hanging onto the edge of the hole where the portal has opened:) Neal!” Neal: “Emma! (Emma is clearly struggling to hold Neal:) You can't hold both of us!” Emma: “I'm not letting go of you!” (She tries unsuccessfully to crawl up to safety.) Neal: “You have to!” Emma: “Neal, you're shot! If you fall through that portal you'll die, no matter what world you land in!” Neal: “I know! But Emma, this is my chance to do the right thing! Henry needs you!” (Neal gives Emma a smile before he lets go and falls into the portal below.) Emma: (Screaming:) “No!” (Looks on in horror as the portal dissipates revealing a deep dirt hole beneath the floor. Emma takes one last look and collapses to the floor.)

[the-vinedresser]

Confession #1

Told you I’d eventually do this — it’s story time.

So here I am, just studying for my final tomorrow morning. All of a sudden, Minus the Bear’s “Pachuca Sunrise” comes up for the millionth time this week and I skip it just like the other time. But this time I’m angry because why should I skip a song because some shitty guy ruined it for me. Why should I automatically register pain and hurt just from seeing the title and the cover art show up on my screen.

High school senior year (yikes). Wait but before that happened, my friend Rebecca told me that this boy Mike liked me during freshman year. She’s close to him, so it must’ve been true. And it was. But he got angry that she told me and didn’t do anything. I immediately looked him up on Facebook when I got home and to my surprise we were already friends. I guess I must’ve added him at some point. Being the new girl in a small town, I kind of lost track.

Fast forward to summer of junior year I start to grow feelings for this person I didn’t know because I am a vain human being and he showed interest in me at one point, so it shouldn’t change a few years later, right?

So I don’t know how but we started talking to each other through text. Someone must’ve set us up and exchanged our numbers. He was very charming through text. Super charming. He seriously knew how to use words which blows my mind even now just thinking about it. I would get so excited seeing his name light up on my phone even if it was a simple “hey.” He would playfully make fun of me, open up about stuff, was unapologetically witty and sharp. I kept wanting to meet in person at school and some days we did before class, but it was just awkward. The same witty person I would speak to didn’t transfer in real life. We would hug awkwardly sometimes. He was taller than I imagined and super lanky and his voice was very low. But I still enjoyed his mind so I was still smitten even though it felt unnatural to talk to him in person.

What started out as innocent conversations got not so innocent very quickly, as you can imagine. All of a sudden he was inviting me to his pool and the conversation would somehow end up with sexual innuendos. Red flags, right? Young Megan was so vulnerable back then. But more than that, she was excited about this new feeling of, well, excitement and infatuation.

I’m going to keep it blunt. We started sexting a lot and Snapchat was a bigger thing back so we exchanged photos once. I felt absolutely disgusting the morning after I sent those pictures. How did I get talked into doing that? But I figured he must’ve liked me because he always talked about hanging out. I didn’t know it back then, but the feeling I had was the realization that I’ve been exploited.

My friend at the time started receiving attention from him as well and was not hesitant to tell me. The bad news is it wasn’t out of concern, it was a competition now. I don’t do competition so guess who got hurt. She would tell me that he’s so gross while showing me the texts and they were different from what he sent me, but I would’ve liked to hear them directed towards me nonetheless. She was insecure about her body but he incessantly complimented her about it... and also invited her to his pool.

For the longest time I didn’t want to be near this friend. If I liked something at a store but I couldn’t wear it because it was a size extra small, she would try it on and buy it on purpose to somehow get back at me. I can’t be around ill-intentioned insecure people anymore. (Lol or so I thought. It still somehow happens.) Anyways, when my friends would get together during break in college I could never hang out if she was there and people definitely noticed.

So anyways back to this shitty excuse of a human being, I ended up caving. It was senior year, I was discontent and stressed and needed to rebel. I went over to his house one day after third period. We’ve been planning for a while but his parents were always home and same with mine. But that day ended up working out and a couple of his friends saw me sitting in the passenger seat when we pulled out of the parking lot.

I remember admiring his view. He had the most beautiful view that he didn’t seem to think was a big deal. I thought it was cute how he couldn’t keep still and would move around a lot when we would talk. Before we started he asked if I ever did anything with anyone before. I said I did a couple weeks ago. He was older and went to a different school. But secretly, yes, it was my first time. I ended up telling him a couple years later in college when I was home one break.

I wasn’t as nervous because I made it seem like I had the advantage. Before I used to think that it wasn’t bad for my first experience, but looking back at it now, oh it was. We did a lot of stuff, like 10 pornos in 10 minutes. He didn’t cum and was obviously flustered.

Afterwards. Oh man that part still kills me. We layed down on our sides and just looked at each other. He stroked my hair and kissed me while I commented on all the knick-knacks and collectibles he had in his room. We got up, he showed me the cool illusion in his bathroom mirror, and I saw mascara smeared all over my eyes. He drove me home and that was it.

Ok, actually that wasn’t just it. Freshman year he’d text me a lot. During the most convenient times when I was studying or at a party crossfaded. It was on my Snapchat story so he knew. I remember complaining to my friends that I just want him to leave me alone, while secretly enjoying the attention and the entertaining thought that I was so good in bed he wanted more. Like I said, super naive back then.

I ended up sleeping with him again one more time at the end of fall semester freshman year. The first time we drove out to the pond near my house just to hang out and talk. We went to a diner in Brewster, New York and talked about... I don’t quite remember.

The next time we met at the pond again and I brought a bottle of wine with me. I asked him if he wanted some and he declined. That’s when I told him he wasn’t my first and I think it made him happy but he also said it bummed him out because he wanted it to be special.

We started kissing awkwardly and I knew by then that the awkward kissing wasn’t just reserved to him, a lot of guys seemed to be good at that. After we made out for like 10 seconds we walk back to his car and hold hands. He joked about how his arm is so much longer than mine and he was right. It felt weird like my arm was being stretched to go lower, even though he was taller than me.

We go into the backseat of his car and it’s cramped. He’s a little more aggressive this time and I yelp at one occasion. He comes early. I’m bummed. He said wait wait it’s ok, jacks it a couple times and no more than 5 seconds later he’s ready to go again.

Afterwards the windows are all fogged up and it’s dark outside. I draw things on the window while i stroke his head, which is laying on my shoulder. He told me he didn’t want to hurt me like he did earlier ever again (the yelping part, not the emotional damage ha ha ha).

We got dressed, opened all the doors and he sprayed some air freshener and was convinced his mom was going to find out. He drives me home again with the windows open and it feels nice. I looked out the window all pensive and disappointed like my stupid 19 year-old self and he tells me how good it was for him. He asked me how it was for me, and I bluntly tell him it was just ok. He drops me off making sure to stop at the very bottom of my driveway so my parents don’t see.

At one point way back in senior year of high school I texted him what I really felt. I was angry with him for being stupid and he had to know. He responded saying something like he knows he’s an asshole, he doesn’t know why he is this way, his brother yells at him all the time for not understanding social cues and norms and for hurting people’s feelings all the time. To this day I still think what he told me was honest. Usually I’d call bullshit but it seemed like just a bit too much detail, which meant it had to be the honest truth.

I still hate him. Just now when I was studying I pictured him going off on one of his little nature escapades in the mountains and him falling off a cliff and dying.

I remember I was in Canada with my family in high school at some point and the sky was orange and beautiful and I was listening to that Pachuca Sunrise song and I was just thinking about being happy with him. Instead of enjoying family vacation. But the daydream made me a more pleasant person than what I usually am on family trips.

But now I hate him. He somehow convinced all these girls 2 years younger than us to sleep with him. My friends told me they hated him and didn’t like him and thought he was gross but I did not listen. Every one of my friend groups seemed to be aware of my weird obsession with him and told me stuff about his greasy hair and loud breathing.

I want to take up kickboxing because of him and the couple other shitty people in my life whom I resent. I feel like the idea of religion and Christianity was holding me back from experiencing these strong emotions. I don’t want to bring them to God because I haven’t let go of them and processed them myself yet. Doing it in partnership with God was something that didn’t work for me, I just kept pushing it away and saying I forgave them because I gave it all to God, when I really didn’t, no matter how hard I tried. Forgiveness is the right thing so I should do it. That’s what I kept reassuring myself.

I refuse to forgive until I understand what it actually is and soak in it for a little bit. People are shitty the end. I embrace the shittiness of life!!!