#i am. really pleased with how rhiannon came out though

[tiredassmage]

more bg blorbo posting!

longer time blog friends may recall something of rhyst as my jedi knight from swtor, but he also has an older sister, rhiannon! and true to form, trying to get their looks right in bg3 was a hell i spent like three hours slogging through for each of them because despite how long i've had them as ocs, they're probably one of the bigger mysteries to me as far as appearance. [which i think, case in point, rhyst has gone ginger since the last time i've posted about him. dyed ginger at least as far as swtor edition is concerned, but ginger nonetheless!]

i've been back and forth on the details of these siblings... pretty much since i decided that they were siblings. and rhyst always gives me interesting conundrums because he's technically cut out of the same cloth as tyr is and a lot of that, thematically, still likes to show up and leave me feeling like a wet dog in flooding road pothole during a storm. that also meant for a while that him and tyr shared some similarities in appearance, too, and while i've decided my brain might explode if i tried to address that in the galaxy far, far away, i thought i could have a bit more fun with complicating everything in their fantasy land adventures, lol!

so! rhyst i have made as an oath of ancients paladin, and in my heart a paladin of tyr [i'll address that in two seconds, i promise, lol]. i've been lazy on downloading the deities mod i'm pretty sure exists for paladins bc i'm not ready to get into his playthrough for real yet [or rather, the latest one. considering he has seen. a few attempts already in bg. i swear, this man and not knowing what he really looks like driving me absolutely batty], but i might yet. anyway, that's not particularly important. he's the younger of the siblings by a year or two and is generally like a really, really happy to see you labrador. rhyst is kind of a burning idealist and kind-hearted. he's ready to look for the best in just about anyone, or at least acknowledge that, if circumstances had been different, people he winds up crossing blades with may have seen differently. he's fond of stories of heroes and i'd say he's... the kind of still young enough where he hasn't had his ideals and drives of "why can't we all just get along" thoroughly tested yet; the world hasn't had a chance to jade him.

rhiannon is a light domain cleric of kelemvor and sometimes the one that's a little bit more ready to start swingin' of the siblings. [though if you put them both in the same room, they can mutually come to a conclusion that bashing things is the correct way to resolve a problem, and will do so with gusto.] while both of them can hold fairly rigid to their sense of right and wrong, i think rhiannon has had a teensy bit more practical world experience and was the bolder traveler of the two of them.

and with harper heritage, both of them firmly stand by doing what needs to be done.

both are born and raised in baldur's gate, primarily by their mother, a city druid. what they know of their father is mostly stories, but rhiannon might've met him once or twice.

so, the reason i mentioned tyr [the oc] in all of this, lol, is bc i keep making bg-edition of his family group bigger, lol.

the man, the myth, the legend, etc etc. tyr who i've realized i should probably start calling oliver in baldur's gate to steal a leaf out of one of his covers bc for all the 'finding new paths in life' after spending his first couple of decades working as an assassin, going by the name of the in-universe god of justice is maybe a bit more sacrilegious than i'd diagnose him with. not that the man is particularly faithful to authority and the divine, exactly, but he's also not looking to pick a fight with the god of justice. a few others, maybe more so, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.

so before oliver sort of settled down for good and moved out of the city, he did spend a little time with the harpers, and that kids, is how i met your mother. [badumtsh!] (whom i still have to name. rip)

it's a relatively short relationship i imagine, compared to the fact that oliver's now married with two other daughters (one biological and one adopted), but also pretty amicably ended. i think rhyst and rhiannon's mother wasn't quite interested in keeping up with the likes of the harpers anymore and was a bit more ready to settle in, where oliver still saw work to do [and involvements to atone for, which is perhaps deserving of a post of it's own because gods know him and alucren have. (gestures) Things going on between them].

so, ~unfortunately for dear mum, rhiannon and rhyst sort of inherited the harper's bug, and a nose that wouldn't leave a layman's "well enough" alone. rhiannon seeks to lay to rest the undead i think partly inspired by dear old dad's previous connections as an assassin, and rhyst pursued the path of a paladin inspired by heroic tales and talk of honor and following codes and oaths taken.

undecided just how involved in the plot i'll get them, but i do think it'd be a lil fun to at least have one version of events where there's a kinda silly family reunion to the tune the likes of "of course you'd be in the middle of all of this. how can we help?" [oliver and jaheira shaking hands and sighing over wrangling strong-willed kids]

[javier-djarin]

Como Me Duele: Chapter 3

Ship: Javi x Reader 

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,710 words

Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendos, fluff

Masterlist

Summary: Kate is coming in to town. She wants to visit you before you start your job. Meanwhile, tensions are rising with Pablo Escobar, and so Javi doesn’t want to let you wander around Bogotá alone. He also does something that he thinks both of you will regret.

A/N: I keep getting the most wonderful feed back over the first two chapters!! Thank you to everyone that has read it! I love you all! Here’s chapter 3!! So, please let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist! Also, translations are at the bottom.

Your POV

A few days later you woke up in a panic. Kate was coming into town, as promised, and you needed to rush to the airport to get her. You, Connie, Kate, and Hannah were all housemates and best friends in college. Now, things were different. Hannah betrayed that sisterly bond the four of your shared, and she was basically an outcast in your circle. Kate, whom you looked up to as a big sister, always looked out for you. She promised that as soon as you were settled, she would come visit. You called her the day before you had gone out to the club, and she dropped everything to buy the cheapest and next flight out of Texas.

You overslept today, because you had actually spent the night with Javi. No, not like that. He invited you over for dinner, as just friends. However, you also drank way too much and ended up crawling back to your apartment really late. Your hangover was the worst thing you’d experienced in your life. You didn’t bother putting on make-up before leaving your apartment to go get her. Instead, you pulled your hair back in a messy bun, tossed on your favorite concert T-shirt (Boston), and a pair of shorts. You dug for your sunglasses in your purse before you called for a taxi to pick you up. They would be there in fifteen minutes, which was perfect. It gave you plenty of time to eat something light and pop a few Tylenol before heading downstairs.

As you locked the door behind you, you heard a wolf whistle. Slowly, you turned around, knowing Javi was standing behind you with that same shit eating grin he always has plastered on his face every time he sees you. “Rough night last night?” he asked.

“You’re not funny,” you mumbled, “I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.”

He laughed a little and wrapped his arm around you. He had obviously just gotten out of the shower, because his cologne was fresh. Mixing with his own musky scent, the smell made you drunk all over again. Luckily this time you could blame the weak knees on your excruciating headache. You let yourself lean into his side just a little. “Where are you headed, hermosa?”

“Airport.” That was all you could muster, this time you didn’t know if  it was because of your hangover or his intoxicating presence. 

“Oh right. You have to go pick up Kate.”

You looked at him over the rim of your sunglasses. 

“You told me all about how she was coming in to visit last night, remember.”

You nodded. “My taxi will be here soon.” You tried to push yourself away from him, but he held on.

“Nonsense. Steve is taking care of something for me, so I can run a little late.”

Okay. Now you were swooning. Thank god for those sunglasses. “You really don’t have to.”

“I know,” he smiled, “I want to. Taxis here are the worst. I’d rather make sure you’re safe.”

You walked down the stairs with him, but he still held onto you. You noticed he was a little on edge when you stepped outside as he glanced around, almost like he was waiting to be ambushed. “Javi…” you started.

“Go ahead and get in the car. I’ll tell your taxi they aren’t needed.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and walked into the garage to get in his Jeep. You slid into the passenger seat as you waited for him to join you. Looking in the rearview mirror, you saw him with his gun drawn walking backwards into the garage. As he opened the door, he turned the safety back on and placed it in between the two of you. “Care to share what the fuck you’re doing?” you asked, slightly annoyed.

“Things are just getting a little more...intense with Escobar. They won’t dare touch a DEA Agent, but you’re not DEA.”

“Yeah, so why would they fuck with me?”

“Because you live in our building and spend a lot of time with us,” he sighed, “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you, hermosa.”

You smiled. His cheesy pet name for you was starting to grow on you. “Is that why you didn’t want me taking a cab?”

He put the Jeep in reverse and backed out of the garage. “If something happened to you and I was there to stop it, Steve and Connie would kill me where I stood.”

You looked at him with big puppy eyes as he started down the street towards the airport. “Is that the only reason you are chauffeuring  me?”

He smiled at you. “Don’t give me those eyes. You know I can’t resist them.”

You leaned over and put your head on Javi’s shoulder, still looking up at him. “Admit it, you care.”

He moved his shoulder and playfully pushed you away. “Alright, fine. I care. After all, we are friends.”

You laughed and squeezed his hand that was resting near his gun. “I know you do.”

Javi moved his hand away from yours and onto the steering wheel. The atmosphere changed rapidly in the Jeep, and it scared you. You noticed he was more tense. The veins in his arms seemed to swell as he clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. His left leg kept bobbing up and down nervously. “Javi…” your voice brought him back to Earth. “Tranquilo, hermoso. Todo esta bien.”

He glanced over to you before looking back at the road. “Yo sé, hermosa. Estas segura.”

You felt your heart swell just a little. You had grown close to him since the night of the club, although you were weary of him. You knew his intentions since that night, and you also knew his type. You weren’t prepared to get hurt again by someone who just looks for the next easy lay. But, you did respect him as a friend, because he was a good one. Loyal to the end, or at least you figured. As much as he and Steve would argue like an old married couple, he had Steve’s back regardless.

You leaned back in your seat just a little to alleviate the headache. You saw Javi glance over at you and smile. “What?”

“They’re my favorite band, you know?”

“Who?”

“Boston.”

You rolled over onto your side a little to look at him. “Seriously?”

“Fuck yeah. ‘Rock & Roll Band’ and ‘Let Me Take You Home Tonight’ are my favorite songs.”

You sighed. “‘More Than a Feeling’ is hard to beat though. Next to Boston though, I love Fleetwood.”

He took his right hand and held it over his chest. “A girl after my own heart.”

Laughing, you started humming ‘Rhiannon’ softly and closed your eyes. You crack one eye open and see Javi singing along just as softly:

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and Wouldn't you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and Who will be her lover?

All your life you've never seen A woman taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?

You both sang through a few songs before making it to the airport. “I can take a cab back home,” you said.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he replied, smiling at you. “Like I said, Steve’s taking care of it right now. So, I can afford to be late.”

Javi pulled into a front parking spot. “I’ll wait here for you guys.”

Smiling, you kissed his cheek. “Thanks, again, Javi.” You opened the Jeep door and bounced across the busy street to find Kate. Her plane had just landed, thank god. So, you patiently waited to see her walk down to baggage claim. ‘Rhiannon’ was stuck in your head, along with the look Javi gave you when you both sang “who will be her lover.” You knew you had a small crush on him, but you couldn’t risk the pain. The last time you dated a friend, you ended up leaving him for Colombia. You didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again.

“Y/N!” You hear, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

Your attention is drawn to the sight of a young woman running down a set of stairs towards you with a backpack on and arms spread. “Kate!” You ran to meet her half way and hugged as soon as the two of you came into contact.

“I am SO happy to see you. You look amazing!” she gushed. “Colombia looks good on you.”

You chuckled. “You’re kidding, right? I’m hungover as shit and have no make-up on.”

She smiled and hugged you again. “Well, you still look good, hungover and all.”

Shaking your head, you grabbed her suitcase. “How was your flight?”

“Long! I slept for most of it.”

You debated on warning her about your chauffeur. You had told her about Javier, but you knew if you let it be a surprise, he’d know all about your crush on him. As you neared the doors, you saw him standing outside his Jeep, leaning against it with his strong arms folded across his chest. Instantly, your knees wanted to buckle. You grabbed Kate’s wrist and steered her away from the doors towards the bathroom. “What are you doing?” she asked. 

Once you were certain he couldn’t see you, you turned to face her. “So, I wasn’t able to get a taxi to bring me here.”

She looked at you bewildered. “Did you walk here?”

“No,” you replied, your voice ten octaves higher than normal.

“Connie and Steve bring you?”

“Um, no.”

“Then what? Did you rent a personal chauffeur?”

You had to laugh at the last question. “Not exactly. I, uh, got a ride from Javi.”

She froze and then grinned at you once she realized what you said. “As in, Javier, your neighbor? The hot DEA Agent that works with Steve.”

“Shh! Will you shut up?”

“Oh my god. He drove you to the airport, and now I get to meet him.”

“Yes, so please be on your best behavior!”

She immediately grabbed her suitcase and started for the exit. “Kate! Seriously!”

She stopped in her tracks once she got out and looked right at him. “Is that him?”

“Yes,” you groaned.

“Holy shit. That’s Javi. Huh, I would be saying ‘Michael, who?’ too. Thank god you did not get stuck with that asshole, because you would have missed out on…” she motioned at Javi.

“Will you stop! He sees you!”

You looked over and saw him grinning at you, and he waved. “I’m sticking you back on a plane.”

It was too late, though. Kate was already making her way over to Javier Peña. 

His POV

A cute brunette was quickly making her way towards him like she knew him with a distraught Y/N following behind her. It was easy for him to figure out that this was Kate, her best friend from home. “Javi?” she asked, sticking her hand out for him to shake.

“Kate?” he said in return.

“Nice to finally meet you!” she replied excitedly.

He laughed and looked over at Y/N before answering. “You too. She’s talked so much about you.” 

He leaned over and grabbed Kate’s suitcase to throw in the back of the Jeep. She quickly hopped in the back seat, and Y/N started to follow her. Javi walked over with a large smile on his face and closed the door, leaning in closer to her. “Oh no, this is not driving Miss Daisy.”

She crossed her arms and gave him those puppy eyes he claimed he couldn’t resist, but this time, he held his ground. “If you don’t get in the front seat, I’ll put you there myself.”

Kate’s eyes grew wide and she started to fan herself, mocking Y/N. Y/N flipped her friend off and turned to Javi. “On a normal day, I’d say I’d like to see you try, but…”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish. Instead, he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the passenger side of his Jeep before putting her in the front seat and buckling her seat belt. He winked at Kate and grinned at Y/N before closing the door and walking to the driver’s side. He heard Kate let out a muffled, “oh my god, you weren’t kidding” which made his grin even wider. He opened the driver’s door just as Y/N was telling Kate to shut up. 

Y/N reached across the seat and slugged Javi in the shoulder. “Cabrón. I was going to say that I wasn’t going to argue!”

“No quería darte la oportunidad.”

“Ahora estás presumiendo.”

He grinned at her with that devilish grin that warned her trouble was coming. “Por siempre y para siempre, hermosa.”

Kate leaned forward. “Hablo español. This is not as private as you think.”

Shit. He was so used to talking in Spanish around Connie and Steve, because neither of them could understand it very well. He felt his cheeks burn a little before he put the Jeep in reverse to drive back to their apartment complex. He looked over to Y/N and noticed she, too, was dying of embarrassment. “Do you want to…”

Y/N cut him off and reached for the volume on the radio. No music was playing though. Instead it was a news broadcast. “Temprano esta mañana, el cuerpo del ministro Lara fue encontrado muerto en su automóvil. Parece que fue atrapado en medio de un tiroteo entre sicarios. No hay más información en este momento ya que la policía aún no ha publicado una declaración.”

Javi’s face grew grim as he slammed his fists on the steering wheel. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. 

She reached over to touch his shoulder. “Javi?”

He shied away from her touch and pressed down on the accelerator. “Why didn’t that fucker just listen?” he said to himself. “Goddammit.”

“Javi.” She said again, trying to get his attention.

“Steve warned him. We warned him!”

She looked back at Kate who was terrified about what this could mean. He sat in silence the rest of the way to the complex. He parked his Jeep on the side of the street and helped Y/N and Kate get inside. When she unlocked her apartment to let Kate inside, he turned to leave. He had to get to the embassy. “Javi!” she exclaimed from the top of the stairs. “Wait!”

He stopped at the door and turned to her. She ran down the flight of stairs and stood on the bottom stair so she was eye level with him. She reached forward and grabbed his arms to drag him over to her, wrapping her arms around him for comfort. “This isn’t your fault,” she whispered.

He went slack at her words and his heart skipped several beats. “It is. We should have assigned him a detail, or something!”

She forced him to look at her as she placed her hands on both sides of his face. “No. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this. Sooner or later, Escobar would have killed him. You said it yourself: that man is a monster.’ This is not your fault.”

He gave her a half smile and placed his hands on each side of her face. “Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she smirked.

He felt a tightening in his chest at those words, but he knew now was as good a moment as any. He pulled her into a passionate kiss. At first, he felt her think about pulling away. Then suddenly, she leapt off the stairs into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. He toyed with her bottom lip until she opened her mouth for him to deepen his kiss. She let out a small moan that only made him kiss her more to hear that sweet noise again, and then she placed her hand on his chest to push him away. “I….uh….I need to check on Kate,” she said, fixing her hair and shirt. “I’ll see you later.” And just like that she disappeared upstairs.

He stood there for a minute, reliving the last moment. His lips plump and raw from that kiss. He grinned to himself and looked up the stairs where she disappeared. He was definitely going to be late to the embassy now, but she was worth it.

Your POV

“You did what?!” Kate exclaimed when you told her.

You had quickly run into your apartment and closed the door, leaning against it trying to catch your breath. She saw the exasperated look on your face and finally pulled it out of you what happened. “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose.”

Kate looked at you dumbfounded. “I’m sorry. I need to explain it to me, then. Did you fall down the stairs and he caught you with his lips?”

“For starters, he kissed me.”

“Oh, and then you pushed him away.”

You replayed what happened in your mind, and you knew that was definitely not what happened. “Well…”

“I thought you said you pushed him away.”

“Well…” each time you said that word your voice continued to get higher.

“That is a very deep thought. What happened?”

You sighed and slumped down on your couch. “It doesn’t matter, because it will NOT happen again.”

“I’m sure you told him that too.”

You let out a loud groan and covered your face with a pillow. “What have I done? I am not ready for this! Also, he has women over to his apartment like every night. He’s a player. I don’t want to get involved with someone like that! It’s just setting me up to get hurt again. I thought Michael had changed his ways when we met, and clearly I was wrong!”

“Yeah, but Michael is an asshole.”

“Peña is an asshole.”

Kate laughed at your remark. “Okay, but he’s the best looking asshole I’ve ever seen.”

You peeked around the pillow at Kate who was sitting opposite to you on the couch. “That’s not helping.”

“How long has it been?” she asked.

“Since?”

“How long has it been?”

“Oh. Well, it’s almost been seven months since I broke off the engagement.”

“And were you sleeping together before that?” she asked, crossing her arms in an accusatory manner. 

You fell back against the couch and covered your face again. “The last time we slept together was about 3 months before that.”

“So almost a year. You’re going on a year without sex or any form of masculine contact.”

You hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’ve been with a man or how much you missed it until just now. Javi’s lips felt so good on yours. He tasted sweeter than anything you’d ever tasted before. Michael had never kissed you with such fervor and passion, or if he had, it had been years. You could still feel Javi’s hard body pressed into yours as his hands pulled you closer to him. He actually took your breath away. You didn’t start breathing again until you closed your apartment door. “Okay,” you agreed, “it’s been a while.”

“All I’m suggesting is you get that out of your system. Javi’s your rebound. You don’t have to start anything serious with him. He’s your little Colombian fling...unless of course he isn’t…” she mimed a ruler and mouthed the word “little.”

You threw the pillow at her. “You’re repulsive.”

“You need to get laid, sister. That’s all I’m saying.”

Sex complicated things, and you knew with your budding friendship, it was going to do exactly that. You also knew by the way Javi looked at you that it would be much more than a fast fling. He was trouble. Connie even told you as much. And so, you knew you were headed for another whirlwind of pain.

His POV

He didn’t remember driving to the embassy, parking his car, or walking in. He barely remembered Steve grabbing him as soon as he walked in to go to the crime scene. He went through the motions of getting in the passenger side and buckling his seatbelt. Steve didn’t notice Peña wasn’t completely there until they were on the road. “Earth to Javier Peña,” he said, snapping in front of his eyes.

“Hey, fuck off,” Peña said moving away from Steve’s hand, “it’s been a morning.”

“Where were you?” Steve asked, annoyed.

“I was helping Y/N and lost track of time.”

Steve shot him an even more irritated glance. “Do I want to know?”

“You can’t tell Connie,” he said with a drop of fear in his voice, “I don’t want her to kick my ass later.”

“Oh god,” Steve said, slamming his right blinker on.

“I didn’t fuck her, if that’s what you’re thinking. But, I did kiss her.”

He raised an eyebrow at Peña, waiting for him to finish. 

“It was a heat of the moment kind of thing. I think I just fucked everything up.”

“Yeah, you probably did.”

He groaned and ran a hand down his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette to smoke. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. 

“Yep,” agreed Steve, “you probably scared her off.”

Peña glared at his partner and flipped him off. “You’re my partner. Aren’t you supposed to have my back?”

“Only when you’re being shot at. These situations I’m required to tell you what a jackass you were.”

He took a long drag off his cigarette. “Oh really?”

Steve parked the car behind another cop car and grabbed his gun and badge from the glove box. “Yep. It was in the manual. Now, get your head out of your ass. You can deal with this when you get home.”

“Just don’t tell Connie.”

“I won’t, but she most definitely will. They tell each other everything.”

Peña let out another painful groan before finishing his cigarette. He followed Steve to the car Lara was found in, and instantly he forgot about his major fuck up from earlier. He was suddenly reminded of why he was in Colombia in the first place.

Translations

Tranquilo, hermoso. Todo esta bien. - Relax, handsome. Everything is fine.

Yo sé, hermosa. Estas segura. - I know, beautiful. You’re safe.

No quería darte la oportunidad. - I didn’t want to give you the chance.

Ahora estás presumiendo. - Now, you’re showing off.

Por siempre y para siempre, hermosa. - Always and forever, beautiful.

Hablo español. - I speak Spanish.

Temprano esta mañana, el cuerpo del ministro Lara fue encontrado muerto en su automóvil. Parece que fue atrapado en medio de un tiroteo entre sicarios. No hay más información en este momento ya que la policía aún no ha publicado una declaración. - Early this morning, the body of Minister Lara was found dead in his car. It appears that he was caught in the middle of a shooting between sicarios. There is no more information at this time as law enforcement has yet to release a statement.

Taglist

@larakasser​

@magneticbucky​

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Rhiannon!

Your application for Charity Burbagehas been accepted. I’m so excited to have Charity around as that opposing voice to forgiveness and reconciliation with the undead former Death Eaters. What is she going to do? I’m a little scared for us all.

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Rhiannon, she/her

TIMEZONE: GMT

ACTIVITY LEVEL: My activity level is pretty decent? I’m always available via discord for plotting and am normally able to get on the dash for replies every day if not every other day.

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers. I’ve been roleplaying for over a decade, and have been roleplaying exclusively on tumblr since 2012 so I’ve been around a lot - mostly in Harry Potter roleplays.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Charity Ffion Burbage

BIRTHDATE: 20th March 1965

DEATHDATE: tw torture 28th July 1997. Charity was personally killed by Lord Voldemort following a prolonged period of torture after she had been kidnapped by Death Eaters not long after the end of the school year. Her death was never made public.

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis!female, she/her pronouns, bisexual. Her sexuality has never been something that she’s hidden, having been publicly involved with both men and women. She’s never cared what people have to say about it - as far as she’s concerned it’s no one’s business other than her own.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Ravenclaw. The hat did briefly consider placing Charity in Gryffindor, but her curiosity and thirst for knowledge ultimately won out.

OCCUPATION: Returned. Prior to this, Charity spent four years as the Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts, and before that she was working in Misuse of Muggle Artefacts

FACECLAIM: Gugu Mbatha-Raw

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

POSTBELLUM

Confusion was the first thing that Charity had felt upon waking. She could feel rough stone against her back and as her eyes came back into focus she could see that she was no longer in Malfoy Manor. The space resembled neither the dank, low walls of the wine cellar that had been fashioned into cells, nor did it resemble the imperial coldness of the dining hall. That was when the panic set in. Where had she been taken now? The last thing she remembered was pleading towards Severus Snape’s impassive form as the jeers and cackles of the Death Eaters rang throughout the marble hall. She didn’t believe the Unspeakables when they first approached and explained the curious circumstances surrounding her return. Believing them to be Death Eaters, she summoned what strength she had and kicked and scratched, desperate to get away. It just didn’t make sense. Coming back from the dead was something reserved for muggle fiction - it wasn’t actually possible. But yet here she was, and the Unspeakables were insistent. She answered their questions distractedly; the cogs in her head were too busy turning over the situation to care too much about what was being asked of her. Just how was this possible? Sure, inferi were possible, but that was lightyears from what she was. Having grown up largely in the muggle world, the inability to use magic bothered her little - especially when there were more pressing matters. After all, doing things the muggle way had always been her default. Whilst she had grown used to doing certain things with magic, readjusting to doing them without magic was a minor inconvenience at worst. There was one name amongst her fellow returned that truly set her blood boiling, even more than the other Death Eaters. Whilst she wasn’t sure it was reciprocated, she had considered Severus Snape a friend once, when they had been colleagues. She hadn’t wanted to believe it when she had heard that he had been the one to kill the headmaster, Charity had always wanted to believe the best in people. But those final moments at the manor had broken any lingering faith she may have had in the dour man. The rest of the returned Death Eaters could fester away in Azkaban - it was what they deserved - but in her mind Severus Snape didn’t deserve a second chance. Once her trust had been broken, it was near impossible to regain; something that had only been heightened in her new perspective on life. Justice was needed and she would see to it that justice was indeed taken on all of them.

PERSONALITY

Ever curious, Charity loved getting to the bottom of how things worked. Her parents had always championed this, encouraging their daughter to never shy away from asking questions. Books, puzzles and various children’s science kits had occupied her free hours as a child, and she delighted in getting to the bottom of a mystery. There were few sweeter feelings than those felt in those moments she cracked the codes. Charity was loyal to a fault, willing to go above and beyond for those she cared about, even if that meant getting herself into trouble. If a friend needed help, she would give them the shirt off her own back, and if they needed a place to stay? Well, Charity would have the spare room in her flat ready quicker than they could say Bowtruckle. She was a firm believer in treating people as you wished to be treated, and would never back down at a perceived injustice. Of course, this got her into trouble at school more than once, with Charity often ending up in detention over going toe-to-toe with pureblood supremacists. They weren’t any more special than anyone else for coming from a long line of wixen, and Charity could never understand why they would believe that - a more inclusive society could only benefit everyone. There was so much that could be learned from the muggles that could only improve the world they lived in. It was something that only grew stronger within her as she grew older, and she did her best to impress it upon the students who took her class at Hogwarts, especially after Voldemort returned. A gregarious soul, she had always been one to get stuck right in, treating new acquaintances as if she had known them all her life. Of an evening she could have been typically found in the Leaky Cauldron or the Three Broomsticks with a beer in hand, unwilling to let the looming shadows of war affect her day to day life. Every moment was precious, and Charity would be damned if she couldn’t live her life to the fullest. After all, wasn’t it the muggles who said that the best revenge was living well?

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Born into a cadet branch of the Rowle family, Margot Rowle had never quite fit in to what was expected of her. Warm and indulgent, no one had been surprised when she had been sorted into Hufflepuff, though it marked a first for a house full of Slytherins and Ravenclaws. Her school years were hardly remarkable though she did well in all her classes, and following graduation she joined the Muggle Liaison Office. A few years in she was assigned to a case in Wales, a dragon had been spotted and causing trouble near a mine in Tonypandy. The last thing she had expected when she had arrived in the area was to fall in love, yet fall in love she did. After a whirlwind romance that led to her being cast out from her pureblood family, Margot married Owain Burbage and settled into a muggle life among the verdant valleys she now called home. First came Rhodri, born a year after Margot and Owain’s marriage, then Charity two years later, and finally Morwenna followed along four years later. The Burbage household was a happy one, constantly full of friends and family. Whilst she largely lived like a muggle, Margot made no secret of her origins, telling her children stories of Hogwarts as bedtime stories. Charity had been the only one of the children to show any signs of magic as a child, and neither Margot or Owain had been surprised when the owl had tapped at the kitchen window the morning of Charity’s eleventh birthday. This didn’t change anything, she was still treated just the same as her other siblings. Returning home for the holidays, she never struggled to fit back in rhythm with the rest of the family - it often felt as if she had never left at all.

HISTORY

Upon graduating from Hogwarts, Charity returned home to Wales for a brief spell. With so many ideas and options for a career swirling about her head she didn’t know what her next steps should be. After several lengthy conversations with her mother, she decided to take a position within the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. It wasn’t the best job around, but it provided her with a steady salary whilst she figured out what it was she really wanted to, and having grown up surrounded by muggles there were few who were quite as suited to working with muggle items as she was. It was only supposed to be for a year or two, but that quickly turned into eight long years. Charity finally quit in 1991, and decided to spend the next two years in the muggle world, working various small jobs and settling in East London. It was by chance that she had seen the position advertised in the Daily Prophet when visiting her parents. Teaching had never been something she had ever really considered, but something within her told her it was the right path to forge ahead on. Recalling the inaccurate Muggle Studies lessons of her teenage years, she proceeded to overhaul the curriculum, with a particular focus on muggle achievements and areas that had no direct equivalent in the magical world. She loved her work, knowing that this was where she belonged. Her classes only grew more outspoken as the war crept up on them, determined to dismantle the prejudices held by many of the students. If she couldn’t save the current generation she was a part of, she would do what was within her means to insure that future generations would be different.

OOC EXPLORATION:

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I decided to apply after it was recommended by a friend (hi, nic!). It’s such a unique concept, something that is a rarity in the hprpc. It’s been a long time since a plot has made me this intrigued, and I’m curious to see just how the returned will adjust to be among the living once more. Charity is a character I’ve been interested in for a while, and I’ve finally decided to bite the bullet and give writing her a go.

ANYTHING ELSE? I am absolutely obsessed with pinterest, so here’s a lil board for Charity

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming Pt 35

CW: Noncon - Pain - Petplay - Manipulation - Abuse

Eos

"Has everything been filed correctly?" Eos looked at the man fidgeting in his seat. He was the man her family tended to rely on when it came to securing their slaves and making transactions. Though she was very close to replacing him.

"Yes, Mistress Eos." He said as he flipped through the papers again. "It cost quite a bit to do it, but we have Calidora registered to you as a pony. Her job registration, as always, can be changed if you end up not finding her suited to the role."

"Good." Eos sat back in her chair and relaxed. She wanted to cut off as many loose ends as she could. It was important that Z could find no loophole to grasp. I wanted them both to suffer.

A knock echoed through the room and the maid opened the door. Mimi was standing on the other side, her hand still awkwardly raised to knock again. As always, she was dressed in her pink uniform and trying to balance on her ballet boots. Despite the time she had spent on them she could never seem to balance in place for long. Not that Eos was in a hurry, Mimi was never going to wear any other kind of shoe again. Eventually she would walk perfectly, even if it took years.

"What is it, Mimi?" Eos raised her eyebrow, surprised and annoyed at the interruption.

"My apologies, Mistress Eos." She did her best to curtsy, a herculean task in what she was always dressed in. "Your niece was a tad… upset to have her plans tonight interrupted, but she has agreed to attend Lady Flora's birthday in your place as the Rosalind family's representative."

"Good. I never like having to see those two psychopaths, glad someone else has to play nice this year." Eos huffed and leaned back in her chair.

Rayne was a known monster, she never bothered to hide it. Flora kept up appearances in public, but anyone that knew her family knew exactly what she was like. In many ways she was worse than Rayne. Rayne was a prisoner to her whims and impulses. All the terrible things she did tended to just be things that popped into her twisted mind. But Flora had forethought. She knew what she was doing. She planned things out.

It was that planning that led to her horrible art pieces. Rayne was definitely more intimidating, but being targeted by her was a mercy. Rayne gave her targets a quick and excruciatingly painful death. Flora gave her targets an excruciatingly painful death, but made sure it lasted as long as possible.

"If it pleases you, I'll have the present you were planning on giving Lady Flora sent to Rhiannon so it can be given alongside the gift Rhiannon is picking up." Mimi tried to keep a pleasant look on her face. She had long gotten used to the people on the farm seeing her, but guests still made her nervous.

"Yes, yes. Have it sent. Maybe Rhiannon can make herself good for once. She's been nothing but a brat lately.” Eos waved Mimi away. She gave her owner an awkward curtsy and slowly walked away. Eos looked at the man sitting across from her and waved him away as well. “I think we’re done here, leave.”

After a stuttered farewell the man quickly left. Once she was alone she reached into her desk and pulled out a bottle of wine and a glass. She uncorked the wine and poured herself a glass, holding it up in a mock toast.

“To righting wrongs.” She said to herself with a smile. But before she could take a sip a beep came from the intercom on her desk.

“Mistress Eos?” Jude’s voice came over the intercom.

I sighed and put the glass down before pushing the button to speak. “What is it?”

“I apologize for th-” Jude began before being cut off.

“I asked what you wanted, not your apology. Why are you bothering me?” Eos felt herself getting irritated.

“Ap-” Jude started to apologize again before clearing her throat and just continuing. “Callidora appears to have woken up. Do you have any instructions on how to treat her right now?”

Eos looked up at the clock on the wall. It was getting late. New ponies were trained in the morning so they had as much of the day as they needed for their first marathon.

But Callidora had been sleeping all day.

“Start her on her introductory marathon. If she’s done before dawn she can have some sleep before her regular training begins with the rest of the ponies tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mistress Eos.” With that the intercom cut out and Eos was alone again.

She smiled and lifted her drink to her lips again. Today was truly a spectacular day. She put Z in her place and got the pony she had been planning on getting before Z sniped it from under her.

She was going to enjoy running it ragged.

Rayne

The doorbell rang out in harmony with the screams of a few maids who were struggling to stay on their feet. The ones who had their shock collars connected to the doorbell were the only ones permitted to scream like that, it helped us know when someone was at the door. We didn’t have visitors very often, but Flora’s birthday was the exception. They’d be feeling that shock dozens of times tonight.

I turned to go greet the arriving guests when an annoying obstinate voice decided to speak up. “I’m here to support Z. Nothing else.”

I turned around and smiled at Briar. “Sure. You’re sugar, spice and everything nice. All you want to do is help people, Dr. Briar. It’s why you joined the Society.” I turned back around and walked down the stairs before she had a chance to respond.

I stood at the end of the entrance hall so I could greet the guests as they arrived. Two maids stood by the door to open it whenever the doorbell rang. I sighed, it was going to be a long night. Though, the only thing that really mattered was whether Flora would have a good birthday or not. I could deal with a few guests. Probably.

The first arrival was Virgil Lurpeko. He was one of the Cerberus triplets and the son of one of the biggest families on the west coast. They siblings hated being mistaken for each other and modded themselves with different colors. Virgil had chosen red hair and eyes. He was followed close behind by two maids and a blond mutt in a red bitchsuit. One maid was holding the mutt on a leash, the other was carrying a present.

“Good evening, Master Rayne.” Virgil made a sweeping bow before straightening back up. “My father asked me to attend on his behalf as I am visiting the region.”

“I’m glad one of you could attend this year.” I tried to sound pleasant, but I didn’t try hard. The Lurpekos hadn’t sent a representative in two years to Flora’s birthday. “Maids are carrying around drinks. Place your gift on the table at the end of the room where we’ll be gathering in.” I gestured to a maid and she quickly approached and curtsied. “It will show you the way there. Make sure your mutt doesn’t make a mess or it might not be presentable for shows anymore.”

“Of course, Master Rayne. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He nodded and followed the maid out of the room.

Another round of screams rang out with the doorbell. The maids pulled open the doors and a small woman and her butler entered. The woman had a tight brown ponytail, shadbelly, jodhpurs, and some very flashy jewelry. She looked like she had been riding horses all day. She hadn’t put any effort into being presentable for this kind of occasion.

“Greetings, Rayne.” I felt my eye twitch as the brat forgot to use the honorific appropriate for someone speaking to those of higher importance. “I am Rhiannon, a representative of the Rosalind family. My aunt, Eos, ran into some unexpected problems this evening and she was unable to attend. I’ve been sent in her place. I have brought a present of my own, along with the present Eos was going to give Flora.”

Her butler stepped forward, two presents in his arms. I ignored him and kept my eyes on Rhiannon. “It’s unfortunate that Eos could not attend, Rhiannon. I’m surprised to see you here. You are on probation, are you not? I was under the impression the Rosalind family sent their children out of the region for their probationary periods.”

“I am and we do.” The brat had the nerve to sigh at my question, annoyed that she had to talk with me. “However since I'm not in the running to be the next head of the family I've just been sent to do my probation with a metalsmith of all things because Eos thinks bridging ties to the Gia family will help us get the highest quality of accessories made for our family’s show ponies.”

“I see.” I managed to stifle a smile as I looked at the line forming behind Rhiannon and smiled as I spotted Emerald Pluto, a real metalsmith unlike that hack that Rhiannon was doing her probation with. An idea began to form in my head. “Well, give Eos my best regards. Enjoy the party.”

I snapped my fingers and a maid came to take them away. Rhiannon held her nose up high as she left, just another mistake she decided to make. The problem with people like her was that they truly believed their family ties would keep them safe.

I turned to greet the next guest, but was interrupted by a commotion by the door. A small woman was pushing her way through the line. At first I was irritated, but as she got closer I recognized her. People change their appearances all the time in the Society, it could be easy to not recognize someone. She was wearing a surprisingly nice purple dress and had stark white hair. I couldn’t help but wonder who she stole the dress from.

A few of the maids looked nervous and moved to block her path, but I held up a hand and they backed off. “Scout, so glad you could come. I see you decided you couldn’t wait in line.”

“Apologies.” She made a sweeping, mocking, bow before straightening back up. I always liked her spunk. “I was just trying to get here as fast as I could. I didn’t want the party to have to wait for me. Besides, I wanted Flora to see her present as soon as possible so I can get the process started.”

Scout held up a folder that I pulled out of her hand. She let go with little resistance. It had profiles of some people in the surrounding cities. I smirked, Scout probably managed to get Flora a nicer gift than most of the people here. Her job was her namesake, she scouted out locations and people to abduct. She sold these profiles to members to help them get the best game out of the city before it was over hunted and capturing rights in the area were temporarily suspended to help avoid suspicion.

“These are wonderful, Scout. I’ll set these aside to show Flora tonight.” I tucked the folder under my arm before continuing. “Though perhaps you can help us with a bit of entertainment tonight. I have use for your other gifts.”

Scout flashed a smile and tilted her head. “Oh? What exactly do you need?”

“We’ll talk in a bit.” I snapped my fingers and another maid appeared to guide her through the mansion. She smirked at me before walking off with the maid.

Scout was one of the few people I’d tolerate this kind of behavior from. She was one of the few people who had no qualms about getting Flora and myself exactly what we wanted. Most of the requisition teams and scouts we tried to hire got nervous when we told them what we’d be doing to the people they captured. Their morals would suddenly surface. Luckily Scout had none and it was going to make this party quite a bit of fun.

Flora

Z stumbled around the room like a newborn fawn as I had her try on shoes. I had to keep lowering the heel until one of my maids finally found a suitable pair of pumps for her to wear. It wasn’t exactly elegant, but I didn’t want her knocking over any of the art or accidentally pulling things off the tables.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone have quite the issues you are.” I said, laughing a bit. “If one of my maids were having these problems I’d just make them a new art piece instead.”

“Apologies.” She sat down on a nearby stool and rubbed her temples. “I’ve never worn things like this before. I never exactly had much money to afford something as nice as this dress you’ve so kindly gifted me. The auction house only gave members of my rank one percent of what the slave we broke sold for. When Rayne graciously passed on her epithet to me I got fifty percent which allowed me to eventually leave and buy a house. Getting used to clothing for events like these was far down the list, partially because I never imagined I would be invited to something like this.”

I wasn’t surprised. Z was good at what she did, but no one could mistake her for high society material. That dress was probably the most expensive thing she had ever worn given the suit she arrived in may as well have been rags. Had my raindrop not given up her lovely epithet she’d still be living in the gutters. I had been livid that she had given it up at first, but the controversy of someone giving away their epithet had been quite entertaining. If anything it brought us more attention than when she had it.

I looked up at the clock, the party had technically started an hour ago. Though

Briar

The guests had poured in over the last half an hour. She recognized most of them, only the big names would get to come to a gathering like this. Many of them brought a slave with them. Some were accompanied by a maid or butler. They were kept busy catering to their owner’s every whim. They fetched food and drinks for their owners and held whatever was needed so their owners could keep their hands open. I watched Rhiannon drop an empty champagne glass to her floor, her butler reacting just in time to catch it.

Some brought their pets. I watched a man with fiery red hair accompanied by a dog girl in a red latex bitchsuit. For her to be at this event she must have been a prized slave, but that didn’t stop him from kicking her when he accidentally tripped over her. I looked away from the sight. Breaking people never bothered me really, it was the unnecessary cruelty that bothered me. Virgil was known for being fairly violent, a big departure from how his brothers operated.

People didn’t even bat an eye when he acted out like that. It was to be expected from members like him. A few people still approached and asked to pet his dog. She was smart enough not to make a scene as some random members stroked her hair, but she was obviously uncomfortable. Pets were always expected to be happy and outgoing, I doubt this one was going to escape a punishment for her demeanor once the party ended.

One of the odder sights was two short women running around the room. They were dressed similar to each other, though one was dressed in purple while the other in pink. Given their cavalier attitudes I assumed they were members until I saw they were wearing collars. I watched the one in purple bump into a guest who immediately grabbed onto her collar. At best I was expecting some fairly painful injuries. At worst… well it was the house of Rayne and Flora. I watched some of the crowd part as a rather large woman approached the man from behind. She towered over most of the people at the party. She wasn’t hard to recognize. Her name was Diana, she was another power player in the region. The man lifted his hand to hit the slave he was holding, only for Diana to grab his wrist before he could bring it down.

Based on the yell that resonated through the room she must have snapped his wrist. He let go of the slave's collar and turned around. After an awkward moment it appeared he was apologizing to her for what happened. Her maid quickly rounded up the two slaves and ushered them off to another corner of the room. After humbling himself to her she turned and walked off to join her slaves.

There were scenes like these happening all across the room. Powerful people making deals, flashing their status and enjoying the luxuries the Society afforded them. It was a typical Society party and this place was a powder keg. I knew Rayne and Flora well enough to know they were planning on lighting a fuse somewhere. I just didn’t know where.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd and I looked towards the staircase. Flora was walking down, Z following a bit behind. Most people didn’t recognize Z despite her epithet. I could hear the muted mutters of the crowd wondering who she was and why she seemed to have received special attention from Flora. Most people who knew the real Flora didn’t really want her attention, but making connections with her was a sure fire way to climb the ranks.

Rayne walked out of the crowd and climbed the stairs. She met Flora halfway down the stairs. She lifted Flora’s hand and gave it a kiss before joining her on the same step.

Flora looked at the crowd like a queen surveying her subjects. “Welcome everyone for attending my birthday party. It’s an event I obviously look forward to every year and I’m always glad to see familiar faces in the crowd.”

Rayne walked her the rest of the way down the stairs with Z following close behind. Once they were off the staircase Z was fairly well hidden behind the couple. “Last year I had a fantastic banquet. This year I decided on something a bit more low-key. Maids will be carrying various assortments of food and drinks around the room for the next hour or so. Feel free to eat, drink and congregate as you wish.”

On cue four doors leading into the room opened and two dozen maids entered carrying various trays of food and drink. I reached over and grabbed a drink off the tray of a passing maid and took a sip. I was going to need it.

“Let’s have a wonderful evening everyone! Let’s make it one every one of us is going to remember for years to come.”

[sratsome-jack]

BTV- WIP Wednesday

Pinglist (BTV): @kita-lavellan | @mrstethras | @noire-pandora | @nocturna-morte | @jarakrisafis | @silvanils | @shadowcrow | @queen-kass-the-writer | @followingthewolf

Sooo I just joined the BTV discord server and I decided to do my first WIP Wednesday! I’m v nervous about posting this but also pumped to introduce my OC! This is an excerpt from the Chapter 3 first draft of my Rhiannon Lavellan x Cullen longfic that is currently being edited:

Rhiannon jumped off her place on the wall and began to wander around. She figured she should take her mind off things and meet some of the newest members of the inquisition that they had picked up thus far. She found Sera, the red jenny from Val Royeaux, sitting in the tavern. Maybe she could make a friend in her new elf companion.

She took a seat across from Sera, who was making her way through a mug of ale.

“So, what’s with you and that Commander?” Sera asked, skipping introductions.

“I’m sorry?” Rhiannon responded. There was no way that Varric had told people already. He promised not to tell anyone, right?

“Oh, come on, it’s obvious with the way you two stare at each other, and are all weird with each other,” she said, “either you’re both weird people or there’s something going on.”

She was observant, Rhiannon had to give her that.

“There’s really nothing between us,” Rhiannon said, “but I guess I wish there was.”

Sera slammed her glass down. “I knew it! Blackwall didn’t believe me when I told him but I knew something was up!”

“Please, don’t tell anyone,” Rhiannon insisted.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, secret’s safe with me,” Sera assured her, “look, I don’t see what the big deal is about him but you should just go for it. You can’t miss the way he looks at you.”

Rhiannon was confused. “The way he looks at me?” she asked, blushing a little.

“Yeah, he looks angry all the time, but not when he looks at you,” Sera explained.

Rhiannon cocked her head. “I never noticed him looking angry,” she said.

“Well duh, silly,” Sera exclaimed, “cause he’s not like that around you. Just watch him when he’s with anyone else. Make sure he doesn’t see you or you’ll miss it.”

“I guess I’ll just have to take your word on it,” Rhiannon chuckled, taking a swig of ale.

Sera rolled her eyes, “come on, I’ll show you.”

Sera got up, motioning for Rhiannon to follow.

“Sera, I’m not sure…”

“Come on,” Sera grabbed Rhiannon’s arm, pulling her up from her seat.

She followed Sera down to the fortress gates.

“If you stick to the wall you can see out there, without them seeing you,” Sera explained, as she slid along the wall with her back to it.

Rhiannon followed her lead, though still somewhat reluctant. If Cullen saw her doing this, that would be embarrassing.

Finally, they were at the fortress gates, Sera poked her head around to look out into the courtyard where the soldiers were training. She motioned for Rhiannon to come forward to join her. Rhiannon crept up beside the other elf.

“Just wait til he turns around,” Sera whispered, her gaze fixed on Cullen as he stood observing the soldiers.

Cullen stood facing outward. His stance was stoic and focused. His lieutenant came to talk to him and he turned his gaze slightly around to face the fortress.

“There!” Sera exclaimed in a whispered voice, pointing toward Cullen. “That angry face, he’s always wearing that around everyone but you.”

Rhiannon studied the Commander’s expression. It did look more harsh than usual.

“Maybe his lieutenant is giving him bad news?” Rhiannon suggested, matching Sera’s whisper.

“He always looks like that!” Sera said.

“There’s no way that’s true,” Rhiannon retorted. “You’re just imagining things.”

“Am not!” Sera exclaimed, defensively.

“He can’t really be interested in me!” Rhiannon said, “I’m an elf, and a mage!”

Sera shrugged. “You’re people is what you are,” Sera said, “and not bad looking people either, I’m not surprised he likes you. And you’re the Herald of Andraste and all. Templars are into that Chantry stuff.”

“If you’re trying to teach the Herald how to spy on people, you’re not doing a very good job.”

Rhiannon jumped and spun around to see Varric standing in front of them.

“Sera thinks Commander Cullen looks at me a certain way,” Rhiannon told him, “I don’t think there’s any truth to it.

“He does though!” Sera protested, “you see it, don’t you? He’s always angry, except when he looks at her!”

Varric pondered the question for a minute. “He does look a bit angry all the time.”

“Oh, come on, Varric, not you too,” Rhiannon pleaded, “he’s never looked angry when I’ve talked to him. Uncomfortable, sometimes, but never angry.”

“He definitely looks at her differently,” Varric said, agreeing with Sera.

“Now you’re just ganging up on me,” Rhiannon said.

As she stood there, defensively. She noticed Cullen enter the gates of the fortress.

“My lady,” he said, nodding with a small smile as he passed her and the others.

Rhiannon just smiled nervously, her cheeks becoming flush.

“Rosy, I may not be the best at writing romance serials but I know a crush when I see one and I’m willing to bet good coin that our Commander’s got one on you,” he said.

“And I think you’re about to lose a sovereign on that bet,” Rhiannon replied, “saying hello to someone is hardly an indicator of romance.”

“This is excruciating,” Sera moaned, rolling her eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be smart and stuff.”

“One sovereign it is,” Varric said, with a chuckle. “I’ll admit, I was starting to think your little crush on him was a shot in the dark, but I have never seen him look at anyone like he just looked at you.”

That night Rhiannon found herself lying on the roof of the little house she’d been staying in, staring up at the sky. She’d always loved looking at the stars when she needed to get away, even when she wasn’t charting them.  She thought about what Sera and Varric had said. Maybe they were right, and she should make a move soon. Still, she wasn’t sure what they were talking about with how he looked at her. She just couldn’t see it.

She definitely had to do something before Varric decided he couldn’t take the waiting anymore. But what would it do to her if Cullen wasn’t interested? She just couldn’t see how he could be interested in her. What kind of templar could catch feelings for an elven mage who did nothing but stumble over her words? Even if he wasn’t a templar anymore and didn’t have a hatred of mages, there was no way he could love one, right?

She wanted more than anything for him to be up here with her, to hold her in his arms and keep her warm. The thought of those large muscles and that fur coat wrapped around her made her heart jump. But it was just thoughts, just fantasies, and that would have to do for now.

[lantern-inthenight]

Playing the Vocals (series)

Chapter 8: No One Else

Pairing: Josh x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Language, smut (18+ ONLY), lil bit of angst

A/N: I know this took forever. My bad. But I hope you guys like it!! Please tell me what you think <3 Thanks to @sparrowof-thedawn​ for being a fantastic beta!

Summary: Josh and Reader are competing vocalists at a music college. They are each trying to win a competition as soloists, but their advisor tells them they can only win as a duo. They begrudgingly become partners, but find that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

It was warm when you woke up. The soft sunlight filtering through the windows had slowly raised the temperature of your room. When your eyes fluttered open, both you and Josh had kicked the covers to the floor. You were draped across him, one hand on his chest, and a leg thrown over his thighs. Your forehead was pressed to his cheek, and you could feel his heart beating, steady and soft under your hand. His skin was warm, too, and added to the comfortable heat of the room.

You laid there for a bit, running your fingers over his bare chest in slow figure-eights. Eventually this stirred Josh, who mumbled under his breath and yawned. You lifted your head to smile at him, fingers tracing over his ribs as he blinked away the sleep.

When he finally came to and focused his gaze on you, Josh smiled sweetly. You felt his hand, which had been resting on your back, move up to brush hair out of your face.

“Morning, glory,” he crooned, settling his thumb on your cheek. You breathed in the smell of him; everything about it was comforting.

“Good morning.” Your voice was soft, still husky with sleepiness. You weren’t sure if you should get up yet, or try to make conversation. After all, the events of last night were still sinking in. You had called Josh crying because of a wet dream. He had responded by coming over and indulging you in your neediness. He had taken care of you. He had made love to you.

It was the first time you had actually spent the night together. It was the first time you’d gotten to wake up in his arms. And it was perfect.

So you elected not to talk. You shifted your weight and cozied up to Josh’s side, closing your eyes again. He lifted his other hand to hold yours, clasped together against his chest. You spent half an hour this way, wrapped up together under a single sheet.

The only thing that made you lift your head again was Josh reaching over to look at his phone. It was abandoned on your nightstand when Josh decided to stay with you.

“What time is it?” you asked, remembering that you had promised to meet Emily later that morning.

“Almost ten-thirty,” he answered, setting his phone down and rubbing his eyes. You sighed and pushed against the mattress to sit up.

“Shit. I told Emily I’d grab coffee with her at eleven.”

Josh sat up next to you, taking your hand in his again. He didn’t look thrilled about your obligation, but he kissed your hand and smiled anyway.

“Okay. I’ll get dressed and be out of your way.”

He moved to get up, but you tugged on his arm.

“Hey,” you said, and pulled him back to you for a kiss. It was soft, but so sweet. Like your entire body sighing. It was how you wanted to start every morning from then on.

“See you at the dining hall? So we can walk to practice?” You asked, when Josh pulled back from you, biting his lip.

“Absolutely,” was his immediate response, paired with a dazzling grin.

….

You met Emily at your go-to coffee shop, as was planned. What you did not expect to do, however, was confess to her all of the ins and outs of your feelings for Josh. You told Emily the entirety of what happened last night, especially Josh’s confession about laughing during practice. You spilled your guts on everything you’d been holding back, as Emily sat in front of you, calm and unblinking.

“...and I know you don’t really need to know all of this, but the point was… Emily, I think I’m in love with him,” you finished, sighing.

Emily sat across from you, sipping her coffee while holding eye contact. You waited, confused, as she took her time in coming up with a response. When she did, it was brief.

“Well, yeah, no shit.”

“Ye--what?”

Emily just shook her head, giving you a look similar to one Miss Michaels had given you and Josh the day she proposed a duet.

“No shit,” she repeated, setting her coffee down. “Everyone knows already.”

“Wh- who’s everyone?!” You spluttered, taken aback. Emily shrugged.

“Oh, you know. Me, Rhiannon, everyone that’s ever met you, probably all of his friends, too. Definitely his brother. Just... We all been knew, bud.”

You squinted at her, and took a long pull of tea. Had it really been so obvious from the get-go?

Miles away, your partner was just as perplexed.

“You mean to tell me,” Josh began, frowning, “that you knew this whole time?”

“Well, yeah,” Jake replied, not even looking at his twin. He was focused instead on rifling through the pantry looking for something to eat. Josh stood by the counter, arms folded.

“Jesus Christ. Well, when were you gonna say something?”

“I did, dumbass,” Jake pointed out, pulling a box of Pop-Tarts from the top shelf. “You just didn’t listen to me.”

He plucked a package out of the box, and began tearing into it. Josh could only open and close his mouth, like a fish out of water. He was at a loss for words.

Jake looked pleased with himself as he took a big bite out of the pastry. Josh watched him, still frowning in confusion, as he leaned against the counter, munching away happily.

“Good God,” he muttered finally. Jake raised an eyebrow.

“I am an absolute idiot.”

Jake nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” he said through a mouth full of blueberry Pop-Tart. “You really are.”

Josh squinted at the ceiling, falling into thought. Had you come to the same conclusion as he? Were your feelings the same? Last night was a lot to process.

“That’s okay, though,” Jake continued, taking another bite. “You came to it in your own time.”

“Yeah,” Josh replied weakly. He felt so stupid. But also a little relieved.

“So now all you have to do is tell her,” Jake concluded. And he exited the kitchen, but not before placing the unwanted rest of his Pop-Tart into Josh’s mouth.

Josh chewed on the pastry, frowning still. Jake was right. He had some confessing to do.

And so did you.

….

You marched up to the dining hall, determined to finally lay it all on the line. It was high time you told Josh everything, and you were gearing up for the mother of all confessions.

Unbeknownst to you, Josh was doing the exact same thing. He gritted his teeth and furrowed his brows as he walked across campus.

When the two of you came face to face on the steps of the dining hall, the tension in the air was palpable. Josh gripped the strap of his book bag with both hands, eyes ablaze with the intention of all the words piled up in his head. You returned his stare with equal intensity, adrenaline rushing through the blood in your ears.

But neither of you said what you had planned.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

For two people who loved the spotlight, both you and Josh appeared to be suffering from crippling cases of performance anxiety.

You walked to practice shoulder to shoulder, exchanging pleasantries and small smiles. But neither of you gave up the ghost. Neither of you managed to summon the courage to bring up the topic on your minds.

It was a fairly routine practice, with Miss Michaels only present to offer pointers here and there. For the most part, you and Josh had the song down to a T, and merely needed to rehearse it. The only thing left to do was to win the competition.

Which all three of you were confident could happen. Miss Michaels had taken a chance on you and Josh. And although she had started bringing a flask to rehearsals, you could see that she was pleased with the progress you were making. And it begged the question:

If Miss Michaels could take a chance on the two of you, why couldn’t you?

...

You and Josh busied yourselves that night, away from each other for once. You parted ways after practice, and it was a weirdly quiet night. Sure, you were frustrated at not having been able to tell him how you felt, but it was nothing that a movie marathon with the girls couldn’t fix.

Still, as Legally Blonde played on the tiny TV in Emily’s dorm room, you found your mind wandering. Josh liked to watch old films. What would it be like to have a night in with him, watching a black-and-white classic on the couch?

You shook yourself from those thoughts when Rhiannon passed you a bowl of popcorn. Emily laughed next to you, and you were pulled firmly back into reality. You would tell Josh tomorrow, and for the time being, it would just have to wait.

….

In retrospect, you probably should waited for Josh to text you back before going over. It was 9 o’clock on a Saturday night and there was a very good chance he wasn’t even home. But still, you were eager--impatient even.

The words you had been rehearsing in your head for two days had begun to eat away at you from the inside out. And it was high time to just spill them.

You sent Josh a “hey are you free?” text and waited ten minutes before realizing you couldn’t stand just sitting there.

So you drove to his apartment, quickly fixing your hair in the rearview mirror as you put the car in park. It occurred to you how much you were imposing, but you didn’t care. You just needed to tell him.

Your heart was pounding inside your chest by the time you reached Josh’s door. You took a shaky breath, and knocked three times.

Your worst fear for the night had been telling Josh your feelings, and him responding that you had completely misinterpreted the situation. But nothing could have prepared you for the moment that Josh answered the door, revealing to you the living room inside.

There was a girl sitting on the couch. She was pretty and well-dressed, with impeccable hair and makeup. She looked ready for a date.

Your eyes widened as you took in the scene behind your partner. You ignored Josh’s surprised “hey” and focused instead on the lit candles around the room. The small vase on the coffee table containing three white roses. The dim lighting.

Oh my God, I fucked up.

Josh saw the look on your face and realized too late what you had seen.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Wait, YN--”

But you had turned on your heels and left. You heard Josh’s footsteps behind you, but tried your best to ignore them. You were lost for words. Your heart, which had been pounding with excitement, felt like it might stop altogether.

There was a girl in Josh’s apartment. He had lit candles for her. He had gotten her flowers. What made her so special, and you so expendable? Had you really misunderstood Josh’s feelings so completely?

The air was cold, and chilled the tears falling down your cheeks. You bit your lip, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, but it went nowhere. Behind you, Josh desperately called your name. You were halfway down the stairs by the time Josh’s voice broke behind you.

“YN, please.”

His voice was cracking. There was an urgency, a desperation, you’d not heard from him before. It was enough to make you stop in your tracks, in the middle of the stairs. Your hand gripped the railing, knuckles turning white. Josh kept going, getting to the step below you and turning to look up at you.

“I know what that looked like,” he started. You shook your head.

“It’s fine, Josh, I shouldn’t have come over--”

“No, it’s not like that,” he interjected. Clearly trying to cushion your feelings. You interrupted him in return.

“I misunderstood what this is, is all.”

“No.” Josh’s voice was hard, forceful. But when you finally brought your gaze up to meet his, his expression was soft. He looked almost as upset as you were, and there was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but it was love.

Love and determination. Josh placed his hand over yours on the railing, and took a deep breath. He had upset you once with a misunderstanding. And he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“That’s Callie. She’s Jake’s new girlfriend.”

You just stared at him. Josh gave your hand a light squeeze and continued.

“She’s here because they’re about to leave for a date.”

It seemed to make sense. But you were still uncertain. It was easier to believe that he simply didn’t want you.

“But… the candles and flowers?”

“When you texted me, I thought it’d be nice to have you over. So I lit the candles.”

You released the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. And then you just felt stupid. Stupid, and so, so relieved.

“The, uh, the flowers--I got them yesterday after practice. They’re for you,” Josh admitted. In the fluorescent light in the stairwell, you could see a tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks.

A nervous laugh broke from your lips.

“Wow,” you muttered. “I’m an idiot.”

Josh laughed, looking equally relieved. You released your grip on the railing, and turned your palm upward into his hand. It was warm and smooth, and disproportionately comforting to you.

“No, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I want you to know,” Josh told you, swallowing hard. Your features softened, but your heartbeat picked up again. If Josh didn’t say what you thought he was about to say, you might drop dead of cardiac arrest.

“The thing is,” he began. “Ever since you’ve been around… I don’t see anyone else.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as Josh’s words sank in. But you needed just a little more.

Josh sensed this, and smiled again, taking both of your hands in his.

“I don’t notice anyone else. You’re the one I want. The only one,” he finished, his smile disappearing to be replaced by a solemn look. He squeezed your hands just a little as he said it for emphasis.

You tried to be nonchalant. But relief flooded your body briefly, only to be replaced by joy. You let out another laugh, this one more genuine. You beamed at him, feeling a surge of love. It was long overdue.

You were prepared to launch yourself in Josh’s arms, but your impulse was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind you. Seconds later, Jake and Callie were slipping past you in the narrow stairwell.

Josh exchanged a brief smile with his brother, who patted him on the shoulder as he passed. When the clack of Callie’s heels on the concrete had faded into a distant tapping, Josh looked at you again.

“Let’s go back inside,” he suggested. “It’s chilly out here.”

You smiled and nodded, turning to head back up the stairs. You didn’t let go of Josh’s hand, keeping it clasped firmly within your own. And Josh was more than happy to follow you, relishing the feeling of togetherness. Now that you had both finally allowed yourselves to feel it.

Upon stepping into the apartment, you looked around at the candles and flowers. Smiling sheepishly, you turned to Josh, who had been watching you and smiling to himself.

“This is nice,” you said softly, moving close to him. Josh opened his arms to you as you leaned up to him for a kiss.

It wasn’t an intense kiss. For once, you felt no rush, no urgency, no great need. You could just take your time, curling your fingers loosely into Josh’s collar as he kissed you back. He placed one hand on the small of your back, letting his other hand tangle into your hair, fingers brushing the back of your neck.

You kissed each other like that for a few moments, soft breaths mixing as your lips worked together. But Josh pulled back, waiting for you to open your eyes before speaking.

“I wanna play you something,” he told you. You smiled and put your arms around his neck, leaning in for one more quick peck before letting him go.

Josh led you to the small piano that he and Jake had opted to buy instead of a dining table. He patted the bench next to him, and you sat down.

Josh took a slow breath and postured his hands over the keys. When he started playing, it was a melody strangely familiar to you. It took you a moment to recognize the song, but you smiled in realization just before Josh opened his mouth to sing the first lines.

Caught out running, with just a little too much to hide Maybe baby, everything is gonna turn out fine

The chords were simple but beautiful; haunting, almost. Josh did well, keeping perfect time and never hitting an off note. You could tell he’d practiced.

But there was one thing missing. Please Read the Letter was a duet. And Josh needed a harmony.

You joined in at the top of the first refrain, keeping your voice low to complement his.

Please read the letter, I nailed it to your door It’s crazy how it all turned out, we needed so much more

You sang together through the first chorus, then the second verse, and so on. Before you knew it, the two of you were jamming out. Improvising fioritures and adding harmonies to parts where there previously had been none.

When Josh’s fingers found the final chords, you couldn’t help but grin. You really did sound amazing together.

Miss Michaels would be so proud.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard your lower register,” you noted, briefly leaning into Josh’s shoulder. He smiled and looked at his feet, then back up to you for an opinion.

“It’s really lovely, Josh. You’re talented.”

Josh laughed, almost a giggle, and tilted his head in agreement.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants,” he joked, making you laugh as well. But you remembered suddenly that there was still something you had to say to him.

“Josh, I need to tell you…”

Josh looked at you, eyes soft and full of wonder. You inhaled slowly.

“What you said earlier, about not seeing anyone else… I want you to know, it’s the same for me. There’s no one else,” you admitted. The corners of Josh’s mouth turned up, but nervousness still churned in your stomach.

“But it’s more than that, Josh. I fell--really hard. I’ve been in love with you for weeks,” you blurted, in disbelief at yourself for holding in these feelings for so long. Josh chuckled, though, and you feel like throwing yourself out the window.

Thankfully, it was a chuckle of relief. Not that you realized that yet.

“And I never asked what you wanted from all this, from me,” you continued, babbling. “So I guess I’m just hoping you feel the same. Because I’m bad at these things, and I couldn’t tell. Before tonight, anyway,” you trailed off, realizing you’d said too many words.

Josh just grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with a joy he couldn’t contain. It was the kind of smile that made you smile, too.

“YN, I’ve been in love with you since you handed my ass to me at the solo awards last year.”

You could have sung every line of Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus. But Josh’s face fell, and he fidgeted with a string on the leg of your jeans.

“But after that day in practice, and how I acted when we first became partners, I thought you would hate me forever.”

You winced to remember the misunderstanding that had caused your rivalry in the first place. But it was in the past. Josh sitting next to you, telling you he loved you--that was the present. And you were done missing opportunities with him.

“I don’t hate you, Josh. Not even close.”

Josh’s lips were parted when your mouth reached them.

You turned your body to press against his, eliminating any space between the two of you. Josh was ready, of course, and his arms closed around you as you kissed him, hard.

It was liberating, getting to kiss him without a question of your feelings. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. No reason to doubt. He was yours.

You took your time once you got to him. The kiss was passionate, burning, but not rushed. You worked your mouth over Josh’s slowly and deeply, each movement deliberate. Both of you were breathless, hands tangled in hair, legs twisting together under the piano bench.

The wind being knocked from your lungs wouldn’t stop either of you, though. It was just like that night in your room when Josh had come over. The entire world could have collapsed around you, but it wouldn’t have mattered.

The only thing that interrupted your kiss was the feeling of Josh squeezing softly at your hip. You couldn’t tell if it had been five minutes or twenty when one of his hands left your hair. But his fingers found their way to your hip and flexed, pulling a delicate moan from you.

You reached out blindly and shoved at the piano, pushing Josh and the bench away from it. The wheels under the legs of the bench squeaked as it rolled, but you paid no mind. Throwing a leg over Josh’s thighs, you settled into his lap to get your hips as close as possible.

Josh responded by holding you even tighter to himself, to create friction between your bodies as you rocked against him. You didn’t have much leverage on the narrow bench, but you made it work all the same. You tangled a hand in his hair, and gripped his shoulder to hold yourself steady.

You took every noise Josh made, all of his little moans and his drawn-out groan when you reached down to palm him through his pants. He was hard and ready for you, just like you knew he’d be. And as much as you wanted to take him right then, you wanted something more from him. And Josh knew that.

His arms went around your waist as he stood up, letting you wrap your legs around him. You were still kissing him silly, but Josh managed to move around the piano anyway. A moment later, he deposited you on the edge of it. You broke the kiss to lean back as Josh kissed a searing trail of kisses and bites down your neck. He didn’t seem particularly intent on leaving marks. He focused instead on doing whatever would make you cry out the most.

When he reached the collar of your blouse, Josh pulled away from you with a soft pop. He turned his attention to ridding you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The moment he had your shirt off, you returned the favor by tugging at his until he lifted his arms and allowed you to pull it off.

Once your chests were bare to each other, Josh restarted his path of kissing and biting down your neck. This time, unencumbered by clothing, he continued the trail down your chest as his hands massaged your breasts. Your head fell back and you could only run your fingers through his hair in response. The little whimpers and moans falling from your lips were all the encouragement Josh needed to keep going.

When he stopped at the hem of your jeans, you had to lift yourself a bit to help him pull them off you. But Josh made quick work of it, and worked his way back up your legs by pressing kisses to the insides of them. He did pause to suck at the soft skin on the inside of your knee, holding your gaze as his mouth painted a perfect mark there.

You whined as Josh brought his mouth further and further towards the apex of your thighs. He took his time, slowly but surely making his way to you. His hands came up to hold the backs of your legs, keeping you in place when he finally pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your center.

You sighed as Josh gave several kitten licks to your clit before pressing his mouth against it in earnest. By that point, he knew what you liked, and he knew just how to flick his tongue the right way while he sucked. You were squirming under him in no time.

You barely needed the foreplay in the first place, but you let Josh eat you out for a few minutes because fuck, he was good at it. And from the way he grabbed at you and groaned into you, he seemed to enjoy it almost as much as you did. Almost.

You were already getting close, so you tugged on Josh’s hair to get him to come back up to you. He grinned as he did so, his mouth shining wet in the candlelight. You pulled him flush against your front, feeling his hardness between your legs through a layer of denim.

You took Josh in another fierce kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as you fumbled together to get the fly of his jeans undone. It was no match for the both of you, and Josh’s pants fell to the floor seconds later. You hiked your legs over his hips again, bending your knees to pull his hips to yours. There, the head of his member rubbed against your clit, driving you crazy as the kiss continued.

You reached down to take his length in your hand, wrapping your fingers around him and giving a few light pumps. Josh groaned when you lined him up with yourself, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as you rubbed his cock over your clit. But he lifted his head and held your gaze as he slipped inside you.

Your breaths were heavy and irregular as Josh slowly pushed into you, making you feel every inch of him. You dropped one hand to his ribs while the other went back to his shoulder. You clung to him tightly as Josh bottomed out and then set up a relentless pace.

The look on his face was indescribable. You kissed that face everywhere you could reach as Josh fucked you there on the piano. You didn’t talk--you didn’t need to anymore.

You lost yourselves in each other, in the ecstasy of finally admitting everything. You reveled in the feeling of being together, in every sense of the word. It was everything you had wanted for so long. It was perfect. And it felt really fucking good.

Josh picked up the pace when he noticed your moans growing in pitch. His hands were splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you impossibly close. And he kissed you like he meant it, pressing his mouth against yours one last time before moving to your neck.

You slipped a hand between your bodies and began to rub yourself in tight circles. The spring coiled inside you felt like it might break, and soon enough you were rutting your hips to meet Josh’s. It wasn’t sensory overload--it was the perfect amount of everything good. The smell of Josh, the taste of his mouth, the slick of his sweat mixing with yours as skin smacked into skin.

Josh bit down on your shoulder at the exact moment you increased the pressure on your clit, and the coil inside you snapped. You came with a sharp cry, legs shaking, as every muscle in your body tensed and every nerve ending was set alight.

The orgasm moved through you in waves, and the pulsing between your legs was enough to send Josh over the edge a moment later. His hips stuttered a final few times, and his fingers dug into your skin as he released.

You held each other for a while, until the piano got uncomfortable to sit on. Josh lifted his head from your shoulder to look into your eyes. You gave him a tired smile and kissed him when he pressed his lips to yours one last time.

After you got yourselves cleaned up, Josh gave you one of his shirts to sleep in. He didn’t invite you to stay the night out loud. And you didn’t ask. It was just a foregone conclusion that you would stay.

So you did, curled into Josh’s side for the rest of the night. You dozed off right before he did, after kissing him some more. Just because you could.

Josh murmured a soft “I love you” into your hair and held you close to himself. You returned the sentiment and rested your head on his chest. Sleep overtook you moments later.

….

It was just after nine in the morning when Jake got home. He dropped his keys on the counter and shrugged off his coat, shuffling to his room. As he passed Josh’s room, Jake noticed that it was open. Inside, he could see you and Josh snuggled up together, sleeping peacefully.

Jake smiled to himself and shook his head.

Finally.

-------------------------------------------

Next time: the competition, Miss Michaels finds her first gray hair, and a shit load of fluff.

Taglist: @kissthesun-fightthefire​, @lover--leaver​, @myownparadise96​, @satans-helper​, @songbirdkisses​, @bluewillowmom​, @sparrowof-thedawn​, @sweetkiszkadreams​, @mountainofthesunn​, @chestinfect-me​, @ohsososophisticatedd​

[deputyrhiannonhale]

Interview with your oc

I saw this from @returnofthepd3 and I just love doing these haha

Rules: answer as your oc and then tag people

Tagging: @f0xyboxes @themechaneer

What’s your full name? *scoffs* "Typical first question. My name is Rhiannon Sara Hale, but please for the love of all that is fucking holy, call me Rhi. I didn't take the step douches last name. Kept my actual father's sur name."

How would you describe your personality? "Ah, well, let's see. I've heard people describe me as quiet. Intuitive? Introverted. Bitchy...I don't really know how to describe myself though...I'm just me. Take it or leave it" *shrugs*

What do you do for a living? "Currently, I'm a deputy at the Sheriff's department in Hope County, Montana. A few have murmured I got this job thanks to Earl, who is my uncle. However, I got this job because I'm good at what I fucking do."

Are you single? *rolls eyes and let's out a very exasperated sigh* "Look, ok, it's like super complicated at the moment. I have a couple of suitors and I'm not entirely sure which one I am more attracted to, so I'm just gonna leave it at that..."

Who is your inspiration in life? *soft, sad smile* "My step brother Deeter. He showed me that you can go above and beyond to protect the people you care for. I just hope he is proud of me and what I've accomplished since his death."

Who is the messiest person you know? *without hesitation* "Hurk Jr. His room is a goddamn nightmare. Although Sharky is a close second." *makes heart shape wirh hands* "Love you guys!" *laughs*

What’s your favourite fast food place? *taps index finger on chin* "Do you count, like, those little take out Chinese places as fast food? 'Cause I love the shit out of those places!"

What is one thing you want people to remember about you after you’ve passed? *silent for several beats, deep in thought* "Hmm...mainly, I think I want people to remember that I tried my hardest to save everyone. To make sure that everyone was as safe as I could help them be. That I cared for every single person I came in contact with..." *sighs and under her breath* "even the ones who didn't deserve my care..."

If you could have any super power, what would it be? *laughs* "Huh...honestly, at one point in my life I thought I'd like to be able to read minds? Then I thought it through and realized I might learn things about what people might think of me, and really, that's none of my business. So, I think I'd like the power to control time. Some moments I'd really like to relive again."

Are you good at accents? "Believably? No!" *laughs* "But just for goofs I like to imitate Sharky and Hurk Jr."

Are you happy? “Outwardly, absolutely. Inwardly...I have good days and I have my bad ones, but I always try to stay positive. There are things in every day that passes that make me happy, and I try to remember thise and not dwell on the bad ones....that sounded like a beauty pageant answer, didn't it?" *laughs*

[dresupi]

‘Across the Universe’ - Bucky/Darcy

Ship: Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis For: @rhiannon-a-christy Song: “Across the Universe’ - The Beatles - 1970 Rating: T Length: 810 Tags: Telepathic!Darcy Lewis, Telepathic!Bucky Barnes, Meet-Cute, Language

------------------------------------------------------

“Geez, I hope I’m not late… the boss said if I was late one more time, he’d kick my ass out--”

“Oh god, do I look hungover? I smell hungover. Maybe that’s just to me though--”

“Please please please just let me go home early, I ate some bad burritos and--”

Darcy took a deep breath and stepped off the elevator.  Being a telepath wasn’t ever easy, but it was worse on the elevator rides to her floor than anything else. Everyone was so loud in the elevator like they were begging someone to read their mind and hear all about their bad burritos and hangovers.

Lucky for her that she worked with only three people on any given day, and most of them thought in science-speak anyway, so it was easy to tune them out if she needed to.

Jane’s thoughts were sharp and staccato, often loud and sudden, but they were usually some kind of revelation in regards to work, so Darcy paid attention and wrote down whatever they were so her boss could remember them for later.

Bruce’s were usually so peaceful, Darcy didn’t notice. Unless he was angry. Then they were so loud she couldn’t think. But making a cup of chamomile tea didn’t require much brainpower. And that usually helped.

Tony’s were usually monotonous, engineering jargon that she didn’t really understand or need to keep up with, so his became white noise the longer she was at work.

So when she entered the lab and sat down at her desk, she was prepared for the three sets of thoughts she usually had in her head besides just her own.  What she wasn’t prepared for was a fourth that she didn’t recognize.

Jesus H. Christ just let me test the damn thing myself Stark.

She glanced back and saw a taller man standing in the back with Tony. She knew she’d seen him before on the news. And maybe in one of Steve’s dossiers that he distributed around amongst the team members. But she was terrible with names.

The voice was deep. Had a Brooklyn accent. Which struck her as familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on who it was. All she knew was that it was a new voice. One she didn’t usually hear. James. His name was James.

James Buchanan Barnes. And Brooklyn is correct. But how did you hear me? I haven’t said a word since you came in?

Darcy gulped and glanced back at the man again. James Buchanan Barnes. She knew that name, and with the face--even if he was clean-shaven--she knew exactly who he was.

You ain’t got a thing to worry about, doll.

Darcy sniffed. “I work with Bruce Banner. I’m not worried.”

So you can hear me.

“And you can hear me,” she countered.

And you know my name. Still didn’t catch yours.

-”Darcy. Lewis.”

He turned to catch her eye then. An icy blue gaze that pierced her soul. “Nice to meet you, Darcy Lewis.”

She’d never met another telepath before. Especially not one so completely stupid hot as he was.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

Yes. And I’m flattered. You’re so completely stupid hot too.

Darcy rolled her eyes.

He continued. “What does a completely stupid hot individual such as yourself have planned for lunch?”

“Nothing, but you have to come ask me out loud. I don’t respond to proposals via thought-mail.”

I thought you said you hadn’t ever met another telepath before?

“I didn’t say it. I thought it. And it’s a new rule.”

He turned back to Tony, saying something to him before turning to walk towards her.

James was a lot taller than she’d realized from across the room.

“Call me Bucky,” he said softly, holding out his hand.

“Okay, Bucky,” she said softly, glancing down at her hand in his.

“You free for lunch later?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye that she liked a lot. Too much, if she was being honest.

I’ll remember that.

“You’ve got me at a disadvantage,” she protested mentally.

“No, for the first time ever, I’m on completely even ground. You’ve got me at the same disadvantage… if you’ll listen in.”

Darcy frowned, her hand still in his.  Jane was glancing over at them now, watching them intently, questioning thoughts starting to waft into her mind.  Darcy swatted them away and concentrated on Bucky.

So pretty. God must have hung the stars in her eyes; look at how blue they are. Piercing my soul. God, she’s gorgeous. Would she even give me a second look if I wasn’t in her head like I am? What could she possibly see in--

“You’re a gorgeous specimen yourself,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “And I’d love to do lunch later.”

As much as she liked to tune people out, it’d be refreshing not to have to.

[ofcloudsandstars]

Day 4

Thursday started with an incredible dream. Its something I still don't know how to process yet but it was so clear and colorful and beautiful that I want to do something with the information.

I think what might have prompted the dream was me thinking of my life living in Glastonbury if I had the means to right away. Then thinking of the type of local magic/witchcraft I'd probably get into. That probably lead to the fascination with the local goddess Avalon and how nature and magic is personified through her. That lead to this beautiful dream that was really like experiencing watching an 8 hour long sailor scouts magical transformation sequence, but in my sleep.

This is solely my beliefs, but I believe that the divine or 'spirit' or in popular terms 'the universe' is something that exists in everything and within us, and that since it’s so immense and has so many qualities and attributes to it, you can understand that this all encompassing energy is made up of many types of vibrations or frequencies within it. These different types of frequencies or vibrations could be understood like 'chords' in a scale of music or like colors in visible light. People often experience these different frequencies as different deities, being fractions of the divine source and though they are all of the same source they all have different roles to play and different paths that can help us etc. instead of us just going to the whole energy of the universe we sometimes find ourselves seeking a specific 'chord' to help us learn a lesson. (Like for example if someone is looking for prosperity, instead of asking the universe, they might work with Jupiter, or give an offering to apollo or whatever they work with). Elaborating on this idea I feel like many cultures have experienced connecting with these different frequencies and personifying them in ways that served them in their communities. It’s why you have so many goddesses of love that are also goddesses of justice, so many gods of war and sex, deities of harvest and prosperity, of the ocean, of the sun and moon etc. The thing that makes these deities very distinct from each other is the context and relationship people of their communities and lands have created with them. (It's also why I really don't have sympathy for people looking to connect with gods in closed cultures cause its like.. you can either make your own connection to those divine frequencies or look in your own heritage and you will find it. The source is in all of us.)

Adding a read more out of consideration for people that are scrolling. Just more details of my dream and the day I had in Glastonbury! 

Anyway I think being surrounded by images of 'the goddess' (basically the divine or the universe personified by a goddess) was sitting in my subconscious and I got this beautiful sequence of faceless silhouettes of goddesses with auras of different colored lights representing different divine frequencies. You had the 'Eternal one' represented by a crystal prism that was the personification of all energy. She had a rainbow crystal aura of light. The following were just different ‘vibrations’ of her, like all of these were the same source but just 'fractions' of the source.

 There was one for every color imaginable and represented 12 celestial bodies (including planet x). It was all very high femme, yet gender neutral and kind of like this repeating messages that all these fractions of goddesses of different colors were apart of the eternal goddess but the eternal goddess was inside everyone as the universal traits of yielding passive and caring energy humanity needs to cultivate to survive. I won't go into detail of every color and their representation here as it's long, a lot of it is like intuitive though like you could easily see how the correspondences could easily fit into each other, but I am thinking about making a post about this in further detail. The only thing is that I am not sure yet what to do with the information. I am already happy working with the planets as they are but it seemed incredibly vivid and somewhat important. I'd love to do a kind of art installation of altars dedicated towards each one of them. It was really beautiful and so well organized in detail I think its worth making something out of?

ANYWAY

The rest of the morning was me going on and on about this dream until my friends were exhausted. Funnily enough we went to THE GODDESS HOUSE for some free healing sessions offered on Thursdays. The sessions were 5 pounds each suggested donation which we happily donated. The goddess house is like this old city council looking building with 3 huge rooms dedicated to a goddess?? Like my dream they were color coded but there were only 3. There is a green and white one (called the green goddess room) dedicated to Brigid, there is a purple dreamy one for Avalon, and a red one for Rhiannon. We waited in the green goddess room which had woolly shag carpets and candles everywhere (big imbolc aesthetic) until a priestess called us to come. I went in with my friend into the purple goddess room and there were two priestesses there and two massage-looking tables covered in purple velvet. In the center I noticed a little altar of little goddess statues each of different colors representing different elements and I got excited!! Cause it reminded me of my dream!! But before I could investigate a priestess asked me to lay down on the table.

She had an INTENSE and powerful energy. Like she was the definition of powerful crone but something about her was so beautiful you felt this rush of affection for her as if I wanted her to adopt me and we could live in her cottage in the woods that had chicken feet underneath it. She was probably at the end of her 60s with the soul of a 2,000 year old apple tree. Something about her was vibrant and powerful like she had dreamy twinkling blue eyes and long wavy fiery red hair and a blue crescent moon that was tattooed on her forehead just underneath her hairline.

I lied down on the bed and she asked me why I came. I said for healing??? and she was like ok but what do you want to heal?

So I was just there like.. Well life has been giving obstacles and I know more is to come so I'd like some strength to persevere through them please. And she chuckled and very gently said that she'll try her best in the 5 minutes time..

She then offered my knees a pillow and a velvety purple blanket. I felt very lovingly tucked in as if I was being put to bed. They asked us to close our eyes and then they did a prayer to the goddess Avalon to help heal us.

Y'all.. I cannot explain how UNPREPARED I was for what came next.. At first it was them gently humming and raising energy by my solar plexus. I did feel a rise of power there. But then she started talking in some TONGUES, some language of the deep earth of which I didn't understand. She was like whimpering and then rattling something around my body, I had no idea what, Then she was making these FEARSOME sounds of like roaring, and SNARLING! and growling as she got some powerful rattling percussion instruments to shake around my body. I was biting the inside of my cheeks cause some of the sounds she was making were so shocking that I was afraid of laughing cause it would kill the vibe but literally anyone in my life I knew that wasn't into witchy shit would have probably ran out of the door. When I was finally able to be more immersed and got over the shock, it was actually so incredible? The instruments she was using was creating a kind of tactile experience that I was starting to see streaks of light behind my eyes. I do have mild synesthesia but it was like watching lightning crackle into a ball above my head and around my aura protecting me. She whispered like she was summoning air spirits and shook things like she was summoning rain and a storm. I felt like a storm around me that was giving me a new armor. They then closed the ritual by twinkling bells around my head and using a feather to brush away something on my shoulders, crown and forehead. She brushed my shoulder and chest in this way that was gentle and intense like it felt soothing but it was with a force that left a gentle gust of wind rolling off my body. I felt like if any negative spirits were attached to me they were gone then lol.

It was really an incredible experience, like I felt so empowered by whatever the hell she did. Even part way when I was still going through the shock I was like damn even if they are making up these sounds or this language and going with it this is some 5 star improv like it was really an experience.

After the temple we went to this tea room and had afternoon tea and spoke to one of the locals there who was friends with someone in our group. She was the one who told us about how Glastonbury changed over the years. How in the 90s it was a bit more edgy and wiccan, in the 2000s it became more goddessy (but I think she was trying to say that had a bad edge too since it was a bit radfem) and now its turned towards the shamanic side and is about the local nature and power in the land. She said that different groups of magical cultures take over from decade to decade and now its going through this new phase which I find pretty cool.

Afterwards we went to a psychic meetup in this beautiful place called The Daisy Center. It looks like you are inside of an angel wing. Everything is white with fluffy white poufs everywhere and gold accents. We sat in the COZIEST lounge filled with big white poufy sofas with fuzzy white blankets to wrap ourselves in and gold pillows. There were huge crystals everywhere and tarot decks on this table around a huge crystal ball. The lady running the workshop had us go through this chakra opening meditation which was so dreamy we all embarassingly drifted off to sleep. We then pulled cards for ourselves, interpreted each others cards for 2020 and it left us with really good insight for the new year!!!!

[iheartgrayson]

four princesses? | grayson dolan

💘FLUFFY💘

SUMMARY: IT’S YOUR FIRSTBORN’S BIRTHDAY AND YOU DECIDE TO THREW THE TWINS GENDER REVEAL PARTY ALONG.

WC: 2K

It was very hot summer day, the sun was shining very bright and everything could be melting outside but that didn’t stop Grayson and his beautiful family from celebrating his first daughter’s birthday and giving her the opportunity to have fun with her friends and family. He didn’t want to take it away from her since it was only one time in the whole year she could do whatever she wanted even though she was only four years old.

Of course Grayson didn’t want to take away her birthday because it was the first time she was celebrating them with her baby sister, Rhiannon, who was only nine months old and the only one before her new siblings would arrive.

Grayson was beyond excited also because today was the day they would announce the gender of his twin babies. Yes, exactly. Twins. He was over the moon about the fact that he was himself having twins and the family tree could continue having twins just like him and Ethan. He knew very well that it was Remington’s special moment but he wanted to teach her that her family was the most special and important thing she could ever have so sharing the gender now would be all perfect.

Also, he was super happy because he couldn’t imagine a better woman than you to share those moments together, a better partner in crime and the best life supporter he could have. Being together for almost eight years, having shared so many things and moments good and bad, having your first child at only eighteen and having a YouTube career and millions of fans and now sharing not one not two but soon four kids Grayson couldn’t imagine having another girl by his side. You were the most beautiful, intelligent and breath taking woman his eyes could land on.

“Hey, baby.” You broke his daydream when you entered the background of the new house and the place you were throwing the two parties. You walked towards him, wearing a very tight velvet pink dress showing your four months baby bump which was kind of big considering the two babies.

“Hey, beautiful. You look fine as hell.” He greeted you and kissed your lips. “Where are the girls?” He looked around since there was no a picture of them.

“Cameron has them. She doesn’t want me to do anything and stress myself. Also, she is done with the gender surprise. Damn, that girl is the best and I feel so bad since I left her practically do everything on her own.” You told him as you sat down since the babies were all day kicking like crazy.

“Please don’t. I wanted to do it and damn I feel like those will be my only nieces I will ever have since Ethan isn’t planning on setting down ever.” Cameron’s voice heard behind you. You both turned towards her direction and she had Rhiannon on her left hand and Remington walking by her side while grabbing her right arm.

“You know it’s not the truth.” Grayson chuckled as he took Remi on his lap and kissed her. She was wearing a pink-white dress and a flower crown on her head and a lipstick coloring her lips. “hey, princess. You look so beautiful.”

Remi smiled widely as she shoved herself to his neck and giggled. She was a bit shy when she was getting all the attention but Grayson was speaking the truth. A small noise made us all turn to Cameron who was still holding Rhiannon on her hands. The small baby was cooing while shaking hands and feet somehow telling us she was there too. “Of course you look beautiful too little princess.” Grayson laughed while kissing her small bare feet. She was wearing a yellow flower clothes, Cameron had brought her, and a cute little hat.

You look at the man in front of you and smiled. You were so lucky to have him on your life and of course those beautiful children he had have you. For only twenty two years old, you were both super mature and ready for everything life throws at you.

“Where the hell is Ethan? This kid lives with us and is never around.” You questioned the siblings. Like the brothers had said they would live side by side with their family and since Ethan doesn’t have his own family he lives with you so filming and such things would be easy for them.

“Right here bitches.” He made his appearance around the corner, wearing his best clothes and styled hair. He was smirking as he approached you and grabbed Remi from Grayson’s hands and kissing her cheek, he was her godfather after all like Cameron was to Rhiannon’s. “Oh my God, Remi you are the most beautiful girl on the entire world. You took from me after all.”

“She looks like me; of course she would look like you too.” Grayson said annoyed sending a glare to Ethan.

“Whatever.”

“Guys, people are coming. You can leave all those things behind.” You said after hearing the doorbell rang. The party is starting.

Soon after one hour the garden was full with people and children and Remi’s friends from day care. They were laughing, playing and running around while giggling and screaming out of happiness. You were talking with a few people while Grayson was filming some things with Ethan so they could put it on the Tuesday video. Of course, Bryant was the camera man of the day and filming the party but they wanted some things to add too.

“People, please, gather around it’s time for the birthday girl to blow her candles.” Cameron shouted to the crowd as she brought the gigantic cake over and Remi laughed and screamed like crazy when she saw her aunt.

Your family and Grayson’s family, friends and parents all stood in front of the table where Remi sat and waited everyone to sing for her. You grabbed Grayson by the hand as you watched your baby girl happier than ever, her eyes glowing with happiness and a wide smile never leaving her lips.

Before everyone could see though Remi looked at you and yelled for you attention. “momma!”

“What is it baby?” You asked her confused as you let go of Gray’s hand.

“Rhi, I want her with me.” She said and pointed to her sister. Everyone awed at the scene in front of them while you took Rhiannon from Lisa and walked besides Remi so her sister could be right next to her.

“Happy birthday Remington, happy birthday to you.” Everyone finished singing and after making her wish, Remi blew her candle and cheered along with others clapping her hands making Rhiannon do the same thing or at least try to.

You smiled and kissed her head. “Happy birthday princess. mommy and daddy loves you.” You said as Grayson got near you and took the baby out of your hands so you wouldn’t be lifting much weight while being pregnant.

“She is already four years old. Can you believe it? It was like yesterday you told me you were pregnant and now she is a growing human being.” He took you on your arms, kissing your temple and admiring the small girl that made him a dad grow up way too fast for his liking.

“You’re right. Time flies so fast. But the only that matters is that our babies are all healthy and happy.”

“couldn’t agree more.” He said and went to find a chair to sit so he could eat his piece of cake and find Rhiannon too.

The first part of the today’s party was done and you couldn’t more relieved about it. But now you felt more anxious about the second part; the gender reveal. The most stressing and exciting part of the day and well your whole pregnancy.

It was time to find the genders so Cameron grabbed you by your hands and made you and Grayson stand in front of the crowd since you would be the ones finding out. No one knew except Cameron.

Before you could so anything Grayson’s dad came and stood besides his youngest and with Remi on his hands. “I will not say much and bore you out. I never imagine in my life that i would be standing here in that young of age to find the gender of not the first not the second but the third and fourth grandchild of mine. really words can’t make you understand how I feel right now but I am so happy and excited. Of course Remington being my first grandchild would always be my favorite but don’t tell this to anyone.” He faked whispered to Remi who giggled. “I am so proud of you Gray.”

“I won’t even look at you.” Grayson said and laughed as he tried to hide his tears from his dad. You all laughed at him and clapped your hands at Sean for his amazing speech. He was very good at this.

Cameron and Ethan placed two boxes in front of you which wrote: Thing 1 and Thing 2, which made you chuckle and smile.

She stood between you too to explain. “Each one of you will open one box and fireworks and balloons will be popped and the color will show the gender. Let me get out of here.” She said after hugging you and giving you a kiss.

Before you could open the boxes, Grayson grabbed your hand and hugged you tightly and kissing your lips after saying a small ‘i love you’.

He stood in front of the first box and after taking a small breath, he opened it and soon a small firework was erupted. You looked up and smiled widely when you saw the color.

It was pink.

Your first twin was a girl. Grayson smiled and kisses you again. “Baby, open the other please. I can’t wait. Please, do it.” He was being a small child as your hands grabbed each side and way too fast opened and the second box and the firework was let out.

You swallowed the bump on your throat and looked up.

It was also pink.

Your eyes widened and you hide your mouth in your hands as all the people cheered and most out of all of them Grayson. He was beyond excited. “Y/N, we’re having twin girls. Two more princesses. I can’t believe it.” He grabbed you in his strong arms and spin you around but carefully and kissing your lips deep. “I can’t believe i am going to have four princesses around the house and one queen. It’s amazing.”

You stood back on your feet and smiled as you saw Grayson hugging tightly with Ethan who was so excited too. Grayson never really wanted twin boys, he was always talking about twin girl and his wish came true.

Suddenly you felt someone picking your leg. You turned around and looked at Remi’s beautiful face. “Mommy, my wish came true.”

“What do you mean baby?”

“My birthday wish. I wish the babies will be girls and it came true.” She explained and you nodded your head.

“That is amazing Remi doll. You will be the best big sister ever.” you hugged her and you heard your name being called.

It was Bryant who wanted to take a family picture with the balloons. Grayson took on his hands Remington while you took Rhiannon since he was the lighter one since you were pregnant. You stood between the two boxes with the pink balloons and posed for the picture. Thank God, Rhiannon was behaving and smiling to for the picture.

After Bryant was done you stood there to admire the beautiful family you and Grayson created and how happy you all were about the two new additions. You also were happy that you were going to have two more daughters. You always believed that girls are a bigger blessing not that you didn’t like boys.

Grayson turned to look at you and flashed you a smile. “I love you, Y/N. Thank you so much for our baby girls.” he leaned and kissed your lips for the millionth time that day.

Now, you were pretty sure that he was the right man for you, your soul mate and the guy that gave you the greatest things he could ever give you, your four baby girls.

[pumpkindechart]

Every Day by David Levithan | Book Review

“People take love's continuity foor granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted. They don't realize that the best thing about love is its regular presence. Once you can establish that, it's an added foundation to your life.”

                              Book Review by Angelica Cariño

a/n: stop right there! before you can start reading this book review. I want to say that all the critique that I said in this review are just my humble opinion. please don’t let my review sway your opinion on reading this lovely book :).

Synopsis

    Every day a different body. Every day a different life. Every day in love with the same girl. There’s never any warning about where it will be or who it will be. A has made peace with that, even established guidelines by which to live: Never get too attached. Avoid being noticed. Do not interfere.     It’s all fine until the morning that A wakes up in the body of Justin and meets Justin’s girlfriend, Rhiannon. From that moment, the rules by which A has been living no longer apply. Because finally A has found someone he wants to be with—day in, day out, day after day. Date Published: August 28, 2012

Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers

Setting: Maryland, USA

No. of Pages: 322

About the Author

     David Levithan was born in September 7th 1972 in Short Hills, New Jersey. He has written several novels both solo and collaboration. His collaboration with Billy Merrell, The Full Spectrum: A New Generation of Writing About Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, and Other Identities, was granted the Lambda Award for Best LGBTQ Children’s/Teen Book .

Review

    Here’s the the thing. I don’t really expect that I will like this story so much that I’m begging for more.     I’ve heard about this book here and there, but I didn’t have the chance to read it. I’ve seen it in display on the bookstores, begging to be bought by me. Being a bookworm that I am there’s an itch to buy the book and own a copy, but the sad thing is that I don’t have enough money to buy the book. Horrah!      Unfortunately the book completely slip off my mind as time passed.  If not because our teacher in reading and writing making us write a book review about the book I would forgot about it. Fortunately, there is an app in the playstore that helps you read books for free! It is called AllBooks. Okay, enough chit-chat let's go on with the review.     Every Day is definitely one of the most unique books out there, it was well-thought out and the writing was flawless. I have not read anything like it before and believe me I’ve read a lot of books on my free time (I have a whole collection of books at my house). Well the concept is not entirely original (There’s a TV series called “Quantum Leap” that touch this idea of leaping into the bodies of different people).

    You can learn a lesson from almost every chapter, you can be in the body (and somehow even the mind) of all kinds of people, struggling with their problems, creating others, trying to fix the unfixable or to keep untouched the precious moments in their lives. You learn that actions always  have consequences, that when you change things you have to assume the responsibility for doing so; you get glimpses into the head of so many types of people and at the end of the day not only you can learn a thing or two from it, but you can really become a better person.     The different characters, the lives that A inhabits each day, made the book very interesting because you can see how all of them have different personality, lifestyle and routine. I loved how A was able to at least separate themselves from the lives they are been living, but also sad at the same time for they can’t have what these lives have. I can’t even imagine waking up every day as a new person and for A spending their whole life doing this whole routine of waking up in a different body. I salute them.     I was sobbing at the end of the book, the good kind of hurt, if that’s even possible. Do you know that I looked like a mess when I finished the book? I was staring to the abyss thinking; how can A able to that. Honestly, A can spend their whole life with Rhiannon because there is a way to achieve it but I applaud them for making that decision.     To be honest I was hoping for some explanation about A situation. It gave us snippets of it, but I would have liked for it to explain more. But at the same time I’m glad that the author doesn’t try to explain why A wakes up in a different body each day. I liked that Every Day wasn’t that type of book, and that we didn’t get all the answers, because the story isn’t about that. The story is about humanity and belonging, and what it means to be connected with other people. What David Levithan gave us was incredibly moving and heartbreaking, and I was thoroughly satisfied with how everything played out. Everything in this book just worked. We jump into the A and Rhiannon story from the very first chapter, and even though it was a little bit insta-lovey, it all just felt right. Nothing in this book felt far-fetched. My one minor criticism about the plot was that the ending felt slightly rushed. It is not exactly my cup of tea.

Characters

      A is the narrator and the main character of the novel. A transfers from body to body everyday and they are doing it as long as they can remember. “Imagine being home sick, but without having a home” — A     A is a dynamic character because they are constantly struggling against themselves because of what they are. They aren’t able to make friendships that last longer than a day and now they are being confronted with falling in love. A doesn't know much about how they came to be and doesn't have a mother or father to look up to therefore they have no one to guide them so they have to fend for themselves.

     Rhiannon is a girl who is "pretty but she doesn't see it". She is also characterized as, "lost in her sadness". In the beginning of the book she is introduced as Justin's girlfriend. A also posesses her body at some point in the book. “I'm having a hard time imagining how, but I want these pieces to fit.” — Rhiannon

     Justin is a sixteen year old boy who lives with both parents. He doesn’t care for her girlfriend Rhiannon. He is also agressive, abusive and a douchebag to his girlfriend. A feels they should protect and save Rhiannon from him. “I focus on the present because that is where I am destined to live.”  — A as Justin

     Nathan is a normal every day guy, fairly smart, an introvert, but seems to be a gentleman. When he got possesed by A and he unknowingly went to a party (A lying to Nathan’s parents about it) and got left at side of the road. Nathan became aware of A possessing his body and he is not willing to give up till he knows everything.     “It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. ”  — A as Nathan

     Kelsea is a girl who is dealing with and depression. Kelsea keeps a journal where she expresses her deepest feelings about her depression and thoughts about suicide.  “I find it hard to concentrate on what's being said. I find it hard to see how any of this is important. Nothing I'm being taught here will make life less painful. None of the people in this room will make life less painful.” — A as Kelsea

     Ashley is described as a girl "knock-out", with a gorgeous face and the body of Beyonce. Ashley’s life is defined by her beauty. It is clear that she spends virtually all her time trying to look perfect. “You like him because he's a lost boy. Believe me, I've seen it happen before. But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves. Without fail.”  — A as Ashley

     Alexander is one of the people that A wakes up as. A knows from the start that he likes being in this body and life. He believes that if they are a normal human they would be a lot like Alexander. "She is my first and only love. Most people know that their first love will not be their only love. But for me, she is both. This will be the only chance I give myself. This will never happen again. "  — A as Alexander

     Reverend Poole is not really the real Poole, he is another person like A. The difference between A and Poole is that A only stays in the body for once a day and then changes but Poole has found some way to occupy one particular body for as long as he wishes. In other words Poole is using his powers for evil instend of good. “I know you so much better than you give me credit for. Do you think this is an accident? Do you think I'm just some religious zealot here to exorcise your demons away? Did you ever ask yourself why I am cataloging such things, what I'm looking for? The answer is you, Andrew. And others like you.” — Reverend Poole's host to A

Favorite Quotes

After a while, you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why. You can have theories, but there will never be proof. - A as Justin We all want everything to be okay. We don't even wish so much for the fantastic or marvelous or outstanding. We will happily settle for okay, because most of the time, okay is enough. - A as Justin I have seen this too many times before. The unwarranted devotion. Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone. The hope tinged with doubt, and the doubt tinged with hope. Every time I see these feelings in someone else's face, it weighs me down. - A as Justin It is its own form of conversation - you can learn a lot about people from the stories they tell, but you can also know them from the way they sing along, whether they like the windows up or down, if they live by the map or by the world, if they feel the pull of the ocean. - A as Justin People are rarely as attractive in reality as they are in the eyes of the people who are in love with them. Which is, I suppose, as it should be. It's almost heartening to think that the attachment you have can define your perception as much as any other influence. - A as Leslie Kindness connets to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen. - A as Amy You shouldn't have to venture deep down in order to get to love.- A as Nathan It would be too easy to say that I feel invisible. Instead, I feel painfully visible, and entirely ignored. People takl to her but it feels like they are outside a house, talking through th ewalls. There are friends, but they are people to spend time with, not people to share time with. There's a false beast that takes the form of instinct and harps on the pointlessness of everything that happens. - A as Kelsea ... even though the world doesn't matter to her, she matters to the world. - A as Kelsea This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to make it possible, endlessly possible. And when it's just the two of you, alone in a room, you can pretend that this is how it is, this is how it will be. - A as Adam If you stare at the center of the universe, there is a coldness there. A blankness. Ultimately, the universe doesn't care about us. Time doesn't care about us. That's why we have to care about each other. - A as Alexander Belonging. Togetherness. Thee words are as complicated and confusing as the word love. It's probably all the same thing. Or it would be if we let it be. I can only guess from observation. - A as Mark 

Conclusion

   This novel presents interesting themes, character, point of view, and the relation between the main character, the cover, and the title as its strengths.The themes of this novel are ‘love regardless appearance’ and ‘the struggles of life’. As the main character of this novel, A will impress the readers about how this character becomes tough and wise in dealing withthe character’s complicated life.The other strength is this novel’s first-person point of view which takes the readers to step into the character’s life deeply and feel this character’s feeling. How the meaning of the main character’s name, the cover, and the title are related to each other is also the uniqueness of this novel that becomes its strength. However, the indefinite ending of this novel may become a let down for some readers.     Lastly, David Levithan’s Every Day is recommended for those who like reading romance novel and searching for the unique one. The heartrending story and the good messages that it carries makes this novel worth reading.

[emilyspanicroom]

Dust and Shadows: Part 3

Please read my first 2 parts if you haven’t already!

Part 1:

Part 2: 

Aelin looked out her window at the whistling sound outside.

From far away, two figures came hurtling out of the sky, a dark-haired man clutching for dear life, to the waist of a white-haired female.

Dorian Haviland, King of Adarlan, and Manon Blackbeak, High Witch of the Blackbeak Clan, Queen of the Crochan Witches and Queen of Adarlan, landed in the courtyard astride Abraxos.

Well, at least Manon landed. The landing was too generous a word for what Dorian did. Dorian practically fell off the saddle and stumbled about on the courtyard cobblestones until he reached the edge of a nearby fountain and sat down.

Then from behind them, a smaller figure astride a broomstick whizzed through the air like an arrow and a tiny, dark-haired witchling hopped to the ground.

For the first time in a long while, the Queen of Terrasan laughed.

She stood, flung open the doors to the courtyard and ran towards the group of three.

“Trust you to come completely uninvited and without warning!”

Dorian groaned and stood shakily.

“It wasn’t my idea.”

The dark-haired witchling bared her small fangs in a smile. “Suck it up.”

Behind her, Manon put her hands on her hips.

Aelin choked on a suppressed giggle.

“Hello, Rhiannon.”

Rhiannon Havillard offered her a grin.

“After surviving a major war, Dorian’s still a wimp.”

Manon sighed affectionately before continuing.

“We’ve come to discuss trade. But mainly to visit. He,” She gestured to Dorian, still struggling to stand, “won’t shut up about visiting you. You haven’t visited us for five years. He’s brought three trunks full of books. They still have to be shipped over.”

Dorian waved a hand in the air to get her attention.

“I hope you have tea. And sandwiches. And knowing you, I’m hopeful for chocolate.”

He winked. Manon slapped him on the shoulder.

Dorian winced and next to him, Rhiannon burst into silent laughter.

“Where is Eleyntia?”

Rhiannon, having overcome her fit of laughter, asked.

The last time she had visited Adarlan, Aelin remembered, Lina and Rhiannon had become quite good friends. She didn’t remember much from that trip - it had mostly been spent sitting listlessly on a couch, listening to Dorian’s comforting words, and Manon demanding to know what had happened between her and…well she didn’t like to think of it.

Manon was one of the few people who knew every detail about what had happened. No doubt she had told Dorian as well. To her credit, she hadn’t said a word for or against…him…after she had told her.

Aelin gave Rhiannon a small smile.

“I’ll send for her.”

Lina, the Princess of Adarlan is here.“ Evangeline bounced into her room.

Lina quickly shoved the basket she had been holding under the bed.

Then the words registered in her mind. A wave of panic washed over her.

"Rhiannon is here?”

Evangeline pulled the door wider, beaming.

“Yes. Princess Rhiannon is here.”

Indeed, it was Rhiannon who swaggered in the door.

They had been about three or four the last time they had seen each other. During that time the two of them had gotten into a brawl that had left both of the bruised and bloody. Neither of them had cried. After they were both exhausted, Rhiannon had held out a hand and Lina had shaken it. They had gone and eaten chocolates together in the kitchens. The servants had gasped when they saw the two of them covered in mud and filth.

“Hello, Princess Eleyntia Rowena Galathynius.”

Rhiannon performed a mock curtsy.

The door closed as Evangeline left.

She tried not to look at the basket under her bed. Buzzard would be waiting for her like he did every day since the first time she had snuck out into the woods. He’d wait and wait. Any other day she would have been delighted to see Rhiannon. But not today.

Lina forced herself to flash a wicked smirk.

“Hello, Ana.”

Rhiannon threw herself on the bed and buried her face in Lina’s pillows.

“You didn’t visit. You said you would.”

Rhiannon’s feet were dangerously close to the basket.

“I couldn’t. Mama wouldn’t let me.”

Rhiannon sat up.

“Well, I’m sure she can be convinced.”

She spluttered. “Have you met my mother!”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. 

“You could just run away. I’m sure the stables have horses.”

Lina barely heard her. She was focusing on Rhiannon’s feet. One step closer to the bed and...

Rhiannon traced her stare to under the bed. To Lina’s horror, she reached down and plucked up the picnic basket.

“For someone whose mother used to be an assassin, you should really be more discreet. Going somewhere?”

Lina snatched the basket out of her hands.

“Yes. And I can’t tell you where, but someone is waiting for me. Please don’t tell!”

Rhiannon observed her from head to toe for a minute. Her teeth were dangerously close to her throat.

“Why should I do that?”

Lina sent a desperate prayer to the gods.

She told Rhiannon everything. When she hd finished, Rhiannon tapped an iron talon on her thigh.

Then, to her surprise, Rhiannon spoke.

“I think I know who you are going to see. My mother once told me a story…well, go then. I’ll cover for you.”

Lina was reminded of why she had spent endless nights sobbing in her bed after her mother had told her they were not to visit Adarlan for a long while.

“Thank you.”

She grabbed her basket.

Rhiannon flicked her wrist. “Go!”

In the midst of his meeting with Aelin, Dorian saw a bright streak of golden hair flash across the window.

It was undoubtedly Eleyntia, though, from a distance, it seemed uncannily like a copy of the child Aelin he had met when he was just a boy.

He watched as the Princess of Terrasan ran across the fields towards the forest.

What was the heir of Terrasan doing, running into the woods unguarded and without supervision?

“Dorian, what are you staring at?”

His wife snapped, slowly tapping an iron nail against the table.

He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

He was waiting for her in exactly the same place as he had first met her.

But this time, he was pacing back and forth in what Lina thought to be worry.

“Where have you been, Lina?”

He seemed to be scanning every inch of her for injuries.

“I’m sorry, but the King and Queen of Adarlan came today and I had a hard time leaving Rhiannon behind. She promised not to tell though! You can trust her!” She added as he tensed.

“If someone had told me long ago that you could trust a witchling, I would not have believed them. But I think Rhiannon Havillard takes after her mother in that respect.”

Lina arched an eyebrow.

“You knew the King and Queen of Adarlan? I thought you were only my mother’s Knight. She told me so, anyhow.”

He traced a finger over his jawline. His features darkened.

“They were your mother’s allies in the war. Moreover, they were her friends. And I am only your mother’s Knight. I do not serve any other court.”

Maybe she appeared frightened, but his voice softened.

“Now, what have you brought in that basket?”

Her mother’s knight popped a hazelnut truffle into his mouth.

“Your mother always said these were the best things on earth. I never knew why she liked them so much. But I think I may be beginning to understand.”

She giggled.

“Mama eats far too many. It’s a wonder her teeth are not all black.”

“Indeed.” He rumbled.

A beam of light touched her face.

The sun had begun to dim.

Lina gasped and grabbed her basket.

“Mama will miss me!”

Her mother’s knight leaped to his feet. “Hurry then!”

She brushed the moss off her dress. Then, she felt him grab her by the wrist.

“Come again, Little Queen.”

His voice was wistful.

And certainly, she would

“How was your excursion with King Rowan Whithorn Galathynius?”

Rhiannon drawled as she entered the room, legs crossed on her bed.

Lina froze.

“Who?”

Rhiannon threw aside the book she had been reading.

“Don’t deny it. I can smell the fae scent on you. Prince Rowan Whitehorn, the strongest fae male alive?”

Lina felt the world shift under her feet.

No. I couldn’t be.

And yet he fit the description. He had her eyes.

“My father?” She whispered.

[stanazil]

Chapter 1: Morgan & Dashon. Part 2

Morgan’s saved money was enough to recover the building and cover first years of maternity leave, except the fact she never had to work before and had no education. Morgan had nothing but three girls (because she finally adopted Cara) and after doing much paperwork, she received government payments on children. In a year of no sleep and full personality change, she finally called mom to talk and told her full story. On twins 3d birthday, Morgan was waiting for a caterer near the front door. The young mom was nervous a lot because of a poor birthday party for girls. She knew that they would not remember if the cake was late, but she always tried to do her best for the children.

Dashon was a lot different personality at that period of his life. Young and beautiful blonde with blue eyes and a Hollywood smile, with an open horizon of opportunities and a huge amount of money. One of several brothers, he came up to our world looking for someone to love. Yeah, poor romantic.His realtor was trying to sell him a beautiful house on the hill, like the best place for family and children. Who knows do you even need it when you are alone? Driving by Morgan’s house he suddenly took a look on her beautiful face and that moment his heart stopped beating.– Stop the car! – he shouted.– What the hell with that Frenchman? – asked realtor himself.But Dash has seen what he's seen and that was deep blue eyes he thought nothing could ever be prettier than. Sweating from running up the hill, the man comes to the house, but the girl wasn’t there. He walked the building around until stopped near the children’s playground in the backyard. There she is. Beautiful red hair. Blue eyes. Sincere smile and manners of a pure aristocrat. She was chatting with a friend on the bench and watching three little girls playing around. – Gosh, please let they be hers, – though Dashon.He walked in and smiled to the woman that looked at each other with disbelief in their eyes. – Gosh, he’s pretty, – whispered Rhiannon to her friend.– He’s new to the city? Never have seen him before. – Hello, ladies, – he was polite and intelligent, – I am new to the city and just got lost walking here with my realtor. I am trying to buy that house down on the hill.– Oh, I am sorry, but I and my husband already bought that house, – smiled Rhiannon without any trying to hide her champion look. – But you could find something on the Valley down, I heard that Goths already moving out. – What a pity, didn’t they like the neighbourhood? – Frenchman was only staring at Morgan’s blue eyes so she forgot all her words. And letters. Red hair girl was staying silent and shy, giving an opportunity for Rhiannon leaders dashes coming out.– No, the neighbourhood is fine, – Rhiannon was trying to secure her friend and to make Dash understand he is not welcome, – But we do not like strangers here. – Yup, I see. What a pleasure was to meet you, ladies, – blonde smiled and took Morgan’s hand for a kiss.  Can I only ask your name?– Morgan. Morgan le Chien.– Wow. What a surprise. – he suddenly froze, still holding her hand, – My last name is also le Chien. – That is my husband’s last name, – girl answered and took her hand back.– Is he also a Frenchman? – He was.Dash took a few seconds of silence and that moment he did understand why this blue eye was full of sadness. – I am sorry.– It’s okay.– Mommy! Mommy! – shouted girls.– I really need to go. Thank you for visiting us. Please come if you will find something in Willow Creek, we are happy to share our sunny neighbourhood.She silently nodded her head and did go to her daughters. Young blonde stayed without any words to say, charmed with her power and beauty.– Let’s go, I will show you how to come out of here, – without any pleasure turned Rhiannon, – Your realtor must be looking for you somewhere.  Don’t you have a cellphone with you? – that disbelief didn’t come out from her eyes and le Chien noticed it. – If I want to win her, I need to win her friends heart first.– So, you are also new in town, do you? – ignored the question but asked his own. – No, we were living in the west part last five years but now I am pregnant so we thought it would be better for a child to grow up here. – Wow, congratulations! You are gonna be a great mom, – smiled Dashon. They just stopped on the road and he waved his realtor who probably was very mad at the runner. – Well, thank you for helping me, was a pleasure to meet you, Rhiannon. – Don’t you smile at me this sweety liar smile. I see you under this mask, mister. – What are you…?– Darling, – red hair man walked out the front door and come to greet a new one staying beside his wife, – Oh, we have more guests here. Prince Frantz, nice to meet you.– Dashon le Chien, nice to meet you too.– Dashon just was saying goodbye cause he has really urgent things to do, – said Rhiannon. – Yes, – looked at her blonde, – I am. Sorry for not staying longer, but hope to see you again, neighbour. After he walked to his car and the couple returned back to le Chiens house, Prince asked:– What that just was? – What? He just got lost and I helped him to find the road. But before, he was trying to flirt with Morgan. Poor girl, she barely can talk to other young men.– Don’t you know who it is?– No. Who?– It’s one of the biggest investors in Europe, who bought my company’s all securities last summer. – Is he rich?– As fuck. And his family’s business is a lot popular in my sphere. But to be honest. All of their money made from a lie. Le Chiens are real bastards. – I won’t let him take away out poor Morgan. That girl is sunshine, not like him.

[dj-syrup]

The Unnamed, Episode 01x08: An Old End And A New Beginning

At the end of the day, all we are is enough.

Or at least that's what my mother keeps telling me.

My name is Danielle. I'm nine years old, and I'm dying. There's something wrong with my blood and the doctors can't fix it. They won't tell me what it is, because they think it's too complicated for me to understand, but I know better. I think I could understand it.

A man came to visit me earlier today. His name is Joshua. He told me that he works for a group called World of Wishes. His group helps people like to me to enjoy their last few months by granting them a wish.

He handed me a magic wand, and I made my wish.

I wished to become a superhero.

The man said that it might take some time, but that he would get back to me.

This is the story of the night I became a superhero.

"Thank you for calling SJSF, this is Rhiannon speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi, Rhiannon. This is Joshua at World of Wishes. I was hoping to talk to The Unnamed."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but this is important and a bit urgent. Can you just put me through please?"

This dude's tone was starting to get to Rhi. "No, I can't just 'put you through'. What do you need to talk to them about?"

The man on the other end of the line sighed and then acquiesced. "I have a little girl that I've been working with, named Danielle. She's dying of leukemia.

"I work for World of Wishes. We give terminally children a wish, and then we fulfill it."

"Oh, you mean like the Make-a-Wish Foundation?"

"Yes, more or less. We fulfill more extreme wishes. If a kid wants to go to Disneyland or Amsterdam or to a Taylor Swift concert, Make-a-Wish takes care of that. We do bigger stuff, which brings me to why I'm calling today.

"Danielle wanted to be a superhero for her wish. I was hoping that The Unnamed would be able to help with that."

This guy, for some reason, was still rubbing Rhi the wrong way. He had done what they had asked her to do, and so she decided to pass it on.

"Thank you for understanding. I'm connecting you now."

"We still haven't decided if we're taking this mission or not," said Ling. "This really falls outside of our purview. It's not really our thing."

Ms. Port, across the table, rolled her eyes at Ling. "Are you for real?" she asked. "Are you seriously suggesting that we turn down this little girl because 'it's not really our thing?'" Port was making air quotes. "She is dying. Dying!"

Port would have kept going, but for the sake of de-escalating the fight, Donnelly cut in. "Ling, she's right. We have to do this."

"I agree," said Mr. Stewart, walking in late as always. "The case of our terminal superhero is open and closed: we must try, at the very least." He paused. "Ling, don't make me make that an order."

"I want to help her," said Ling. "I really do. But this doesn't make a whole lot of sense. We're not actors! We're not engineers! We spend our time fighting the real bad guys, not long-dead gods who some idiot summoned to help them take over the world."

"What am I, then?" asked Thomas. "Chopped silicon?"

Winn cut in. "Guys, can we focus, please? In two weeks, we have a date with a dying nine-year-old. What do you want to do?"

"We can't make her a superhero permanently," said Ling. "We don't have the time or the resources to do that."

"Now you're talking sense," said Donnelly.

"But we could do a single night," said Thomas. "We can make her a superhero for one night. We can go with her, and we can find some bad guys to rough up."

"Uhh... that's a lawsuit waiting to happen," said Mr. Patrick. "You'll have to find some other way."

"I volunteer as a bad guy," said Sergeant Foster. "My daughter volunteers as well, but she doesn't know it yet."

"That's better," said Mr. Stewart.

"But what about our powers?" asked Donnelly. "What about her powers?"

"Don't worry about that," said Mr. Stewart. "Let the Research and Development teams take care of that. For now, think about who you want to be instead of what you want to be. Bear in mind, though, that the most input you likely get on your suits and powers might be the choice of paint."

Nobody in research and development got much sleep that night.

Or the night after.

Or the night after that.

When this project was completed, each person who worked on it got an "I Survived the 2017 Suit Build" pin, and their choice of whiskey, within reason of course. Most of the people forgot the alcohol, and left it at work, as they stumbled home to get some sleep.

After two weeks, some a lot of patent infringement, and several acquisitions of companies, the suits were ready for primetime.

Thomas' suit ended up being so big that the floor of the hospital room couldn't hold its weight. Thomas tossed the keys to the valet and said to "keep it running". The only response to the valet's blank stare was a shrug from Ling, who looked quite breathtaking in her suit. Donnelly had already followed Thomas inside.

Danielle looked up from her iPad when they walked in. She was truly a pitiful sight: plugged into a half dozen machines, all of them either measuring her life or sustaining it. She smiled at each of them as they walked in, her smile so big that it seemed to fill the room.

She was getting her dying wish.

Based on what they had discussed in the car on the way over, Donnelly took point.

"My name is Caleb," he started, "but you can call me Extraordinario, or just X for short. We heard that there might a superhero in here somewhere, and we think it's you. What do you think, Ling?"

"Ling? Who's Ling?" asked Ling.

"Sorry, Li- Miss Z. Danielle, this is Miss Z. She's one of the other superheroes here. What do you think, Miss Z?"

"Hmm... I don't know, X," said Ling, teasingly, "But I think it's worth checking."

"You're teasing," said Danielle, laughing. "I know you guys would come. Joshua said you would come."

"Did he?" asked Donnelly. "Well, I guess that answers that question."

"What he didn't say was how you guys were going to take me. You're not planning on bringing all of this with us, are you?"

Thomas stepped out into the hallway and beckoned to the two technicians waiting for him. They wheeled their masterpiece: a suit that was capable of supporting her life every bit as well as the machines, as well as allowing her to run and jump like she used to.

And it truly was a masterpiece: an outer skin of carbon fiber, with a titanium exoskeleton that supported Danielle's weight and allowed her to move freely. The medical instruments had been miniaturized and placed inside the suit on her back, although she would not feel their weight. The helmet was made of automotive glass, and the airtight nature of the suit meant that Danielle would not need her breathing tubes. Inside this suit, she could run and jump and look like every other child.

But Danielle, smart though she was, did not know any of this. Her first reaction was one of glee.

"It's blue! How did you know that was my favorite color?"

"Well, Josh told you some things, right?" asked Ling. When Danielle nodded, Ling continued. "Josh told us some things too."

"And I don't need any of this?" She gestured to the equipment around her.

"No, sweetie," said Ling. "This suit will do the jobs of all of this stuff."

Donnelly recoiled slightly. He had never known Ling to use the word "sweetie", or any other term of endearment. Her experience, trying to rescue her parents from The People's Republic of China, had changed her in ways that Donnelly was still figuring out.

"Are you ready?" asked Donnelly, getting his wits back about him.

"I'm ready," said Danielle. "Let's go."

The technicians and doctors, both from SJSF and the hospital, spent over an hour fitting Danielle into the suit. When they were ready, they departed.

"Mr. X," said Danielle, as they were walking towards the parking lot, "what are your superpowers?"

"I'm not supposed to use them around hospitals," said Donnelly. "They don't want me giving people heart attacks. Let's get a ways out and I'll show you."

Thomas had to hang back so that he could get into his own suit.

And what a suit it was. The team that built it referred to it as The Bear, primarily because it looked like one. It could stand and walk around, under the control of its driver, and while standing it was almost ten feet tall. It could also stand on four legs, and when it did, a set of wheels extended that allowed the whole suit to roll. The general impression is that the Iron Man suit and a polar bear had a rather angular baby, and that baby was given two pairs of roller skates.

And, of course, it was well armored. The whole thing was covered in a half inch of armor steel, and the glass canopy covering Thomas' head was made of bulletproof glass.

Donnelly had kept walking for three or four paces before he realized that Danielle was no longer next to him. She had stopped short upon seeing Thomas in his suit and had been unable to move or talk since then.

And Donnelly could see it her eyes; this was the moment when it became real to her. She knew that this wasn't real, that this was just an act for her, but at this point, her awe overcame her distrust and it became real.

Tonight was going to be a good night.

Foster had talked to a few of his buddies, and they had set up a closed course. Over the course of the night, the team was going to stop a mugging, prevent a bank robbery, and stop Dr. Picard's evil plan to take over the world with cybernetic soldiers.

While Thomas' Bear was as fast as most cars, Ling and Donnelly couldn't just run to keep up, and so they had their own cars. Ling was riding a Kawasaki Ninja, a small, fast street motorcycle (which she already owned, and was her ride to work before The Nest had been built). Donnelly borrowed a convertible Chevy Camaro from Mr. Stewart's lot.

They drove from the hospital to the start of the closed course with Danielle securely mounted to Thomas' back. While she was otherwise occupied with riding a giant metal bear at 75 MPH, Ling put in her Bluetooth headset and started talking to Winn and Port.

"Is Foster's buddy ready for the mugging?" asked Ling?

"Yes," replied Port. "We're all set up here and ready to go, thank you for asking."

"I'm sorry," said Ling. "I've had a bit on my mind today. I'm concerned about this kid. She's innocent and really sweet, and I don't want to mess this up."

Port was not used to any level of emotional intelligence -- or emotion of any kind, really -- from Ling and didn't speak again for a few moments.

"Alright, Ling, you're approaching the start of the closed course," said Winn. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready."

"Then Godspeed. We'll see you on the other side."

The com line went silent at this point, but Ling knew that Port and Winn were still on the line, listening to everything going on and ready to help at a moment's notice. Ling took comfort in this.

There was a blue line spray painted across the street. That was the start of the closed course.

It was showtime.

Danielle dismounted and ran over to Donnelly and Ling. "That was awesome!" She was all smiles. "Donnelly was telling me about your powers on the way over. Is it true that you can lift a car, Mr. X?"

By way of an answer, Donnelly walked over to a car, and when he had located the right one, slipped his hands under it and pulled the back bumper three or four feet off the ground. He looked over at Danielle, smiled, and then set it down.

"I'm also bulletproof, and I can shoot lasers out of my eyes."

"Ooh, ooh, can you fly?"

"No, but I can jump really high."

"And you, Miss Z. I heard you're a human weapon. What is that like?"

"It's as awesome as it sounds," said Ling, trying her best to sound positive.

In the quiet of a city at sundown, Danielle thought she could hear a woman crying and an angry man shouting at her.

In reality, she was hearing audio piped through the Dolby Atmos sound system installed in the collar of her suit. For one of her superpowers, the team had given her enhanced hearing.

"Hey, guys?" said Danielle. "Did you hear that?"

All three of them turned to her and said in unison, "Hear what?"

"I heard something. It's coming from over there."

And she led quickly to a dark alley until all three of them could hear the same thing she had: the sound of a woman being mugged. They came to the alley right before the woman handed the thief her purse.

"Hey," said Danielle, "what do you think you're doing?"

The thief, seeing the four superheroes, ran.

The four gave chase, Danielle leading the way. Her suit gave her the strength to run and keep up with the rest of them, something she would not have been able to do in her weakened state without help.

As the thief rounded a corner, Donnelly put his hand to his temple and shot a laser from his eyes. He missed, but he put a scorch mark on a building in front of the robber.

This was exactly as it was planned.

"Stop!" yelled Ling. "I could have killed you a dozen times by now if I wanted to. Just give us the purse back; we don't want to hurt you."

The man did stop, and Danielle, not needing an invitation, walked over to him. "The purse." It was a command, regal as a nine-year-old could make it.

The man gave her the purse.

And then Danielle kicked him in the shins.

Donnelly gave the old woman a ride home. It was the least he could do, after roping his mother into something like this.

"I'm glad to see you doing something with your life, son."

"I've been doing something with my life for most of my life now," replied Donnelly. "I'm glad to be doing something good now, though."

"You know what I mean, Caleb."

"I know what you mean, Mom. Thanks for coming along on this crazy caper."

"You're welcome. Be safe out there, alright?"

"I will, Mom."

She got out, and Donnelly waited until she was inside before leaving.

"You'll have to thank your buddy, Foster," said Ling into her microphone while en route to Donnelly's mom's place.

Port handed Foster a mic. He was still at The Nest, awaiting his part in the planned bank robbery. "I would, Ling, but that wasn't my buddy. I'm not sure what the story is."

"Wait," said Port, "if that wasn't your friend, then who was it?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," said Ling.

"I don't know," said Foster, "But I'll figure it out."

"You have to be at the bank in half an hour," reminded Port.

"Hey, Winn?" called Foster.

Winn rolled her eyes. She had been listening to the entire conversation and knew exactly what Foster was going to ask. "Hey, Winn" was quickly becoming her least favorite phrase in the English language.

Donnelly had not heard this conversation. He was listening to his mother, not to his comlink.

It should be further noted that Winn had her hands full. The alley chase had been planned and had only required a single special effect: the laser that came from Donnelly's eyes. The bank robbery was much more complicated. There was a lot that could go wrong, stemming entirely from the fact that there was much less control involved.

The question of who had been doing the mugging would have to wait. Things went off without a hitch, didn't they? Winn now had to work with Port and the rest of the team to make sure the rest of the night went as smoothly.

"Donnelly, Ling, Thomas, are you guys ready?" asked Port.

Ling responded. "Yes. We're in place, ready to head over to the bank as soon as things are ready there."

"Sounds good. I'm routing the 911 call to all... now."

The speakers in Thomas' suit crackled, along with the radios in Ling's ear and Donnelly's jawbone. "We have a 487 in progress, 33 Liberty Street, Financial District, Manhattan."

"That's a bank robbery," said Donnelly, "and that's the address for the Federal Reserve Bank. You guys want to stop a bank robbery?"

His question was greeted with enthusiasm on all sides.

"Then let's go!"

Donnelly got into his Camaro, Ling got on her bike, and Danielle latched onto Thomas' back. Within seconds, they were all soaring across the pavement, headed toward what Danielle thought was the Federal Reserve. It wasn't, but she didn't know that.

"Hey, Donnelly?" asked Port, via comlink.

"Wassup?"

"Wassup? What the... never mind. Foster just went over to join the bank robbery, but just after he arrived, his com went dead. I've got a bad feeling; something is going on here that we don't know about."

Donnelly got serious very quickly. "What are you suggesting?"

"Let's scrub the bank robbery. Skip it. Tell Danielle something -- give me a minute to figure it out -- and then go straight to the final scene."

"Foster probably just forgot to put batteries in his walkie-talkie or something."

"Okay, but we have three other guys in there, and I haven't been able to reach any of them either."

"That's fishy."

"You're telling me."

"Well, someone needs to go and check on them either way."

"We could just let the police handle it," said Port.

"Eh... We're already on the way. Besides, what are you going to tell the police? 'Hi, I work for a secret organization, and we planned a fake bank robbery, but something went wrong, can you go check on our guys?' No, we can handle this."

"For once," said Ling, "I agree with Donnelly. Let's not bother the donut brokers tonight."

"What does Thomas say?" asked Port.

Thomas was talking to Danielle about the bank that was being robbed and while he could hear the conversation, he couldn't answer. Ling pulled up next to him on her bike, and Thomas nodded at her.

"I have a nod from Thomas. We're all in agreement."

"Okay, then. I'll see what information I can give you before you get there."

Donnelly was already doing 70 on a city street. He started wondering if it was safe to go faster than that.

The four arrived at the bank -- a small branch that Mr. Stewart had paid a small fortune to use -- and dismounted. Port and Winn had been unable to provide any useful information about the state of the bank or the people in it.

And so they walked in, Ling leading the way with her Mossberg 500 drawn. Thomas was rolling; it was quieter than walking.

Foster was working with his crew, doing exactly what they had planned: cracking the vault. The plan was that the vault would come open as soon as the four walked into the building.

They paused for a moment.

The vault would come open any second now. If it did, then that was their cue: everything was fine, the robbers just weren't answering their radios for some reason.

The vault didn't come open.

Thomas got on his mic, and after cutting Danielle out of the loop, he started explaining the situation to Winn and Port.

"Why can't I hear Bear?" Danielle asked Donnelly.

"He's talking to our friends at headquarters. Something's not quite right and we're trying to figure it out."

"Oh. Okay. What's not working right?"

"The robbers can't seem to get the vault open. We're supposed to wait to stop them until they have the vault open."

"Why? Can't we just stop them now?"

Donnelly looked at Ling.

Port spoke over Donnelly's jawbone piece. "I don't recommend that. We don't know what's going on here."

Donnelly looked back to Danielle. "We need to follow the plan."

Danielle looked a little disappointed but did not argue.

Winn got back on the communication loop. "So here's the deal. Somehow, we've had multiple equipment failures, both with the radios and with the mechanism that is supposed to open the vault door. The new plan is this: engage them before the door opens since we don't think it's going to. Thomas, put Danielle on your back and go straight in. Ling, take the left flank. Donnelly, the right. Remember that these people know you're coming. Donnelly, use your powers only when we tell you to. Ling, Thomas, try not to hurt anyone, including yourselves?"

Donnelly and Ling nodded, and Thomas relayed their agreement.

"Sounds good. I'm going to start setting up for the final act, but if you need me I still have my earpiece in."

After Thomas and Donnelly had explained the plan to Danielle, they got set up, and then they attacked.

Things went wrong almost immediately. Foster just stood there, not doing anything, while his buddies started taking very real swipes at Donnelly and Ling.

"Hey, Winn-" Thomas had gotten just a couple words out when an EMP wiped out the electronics in his suit, including his radio.

Donnelly's skin had shielded his transmitter a little bit, and he immediately picked up where Thomas had left off while fending off his attackers. "Something is very wrong here, Winn. These are not the people we were expecting, and they are not sticking to the script. We need-" A new man had entered the fray without Donnelly noticing, and his right hook knocked Donnelly speechless. His attackers, taking advantage of his suddenly weakened state, pinned him to the ground and zip-tied his hands and feet together.

Ling, ever the fighter, had broken noses, jaws, and kneecaps, including the removal of several of her attackers' teeth. (She would have to add them to her collection.) Unfortunately, 5 against 1 was long odds for even someone like her and she quickly found herself tied in much the same manner as Donnelly.

The new man stood, wiped the dust from his suit, and addressed the four superheroes in a soft, melodious voice.

"Welcome, Mister Donnelly, Mister Thomas, Miss Ling, and Miss Danielle. Welcome to my bank."

Ling spat out a mouthful of blood and said, "This isn't your bank."

The man laughed, a high, eerie laugh. "It is tonight.

"For a group that calls itself 'The Unnamed'," he used air quotes, "finding you was not very hard. I remember the first time I ran across your organization, almost a year ago when you dealt with a gay conversion facility. I was impressed then, and I have been impressed by your work ever since. Do you remember that man you framed?"

Ling nodded.

"I wondered if you ever felt any guilt about that. But no matter.

"After watching your work for a while, something occurred to me. Yes, at the end of the day, it's you and Donnelly getting stuff done. But you must have a massive support crew. I mean, somebody connected the dots about the drugs going through that school. I can only imagine how much time and energy that took.

"But I grew weary of your constant insistence on serving this arbitrary idea of 'the greater good'. You had the ability to make millions, perhaps billions of dollars, but you spent your time getting dates for teenagers and breaking up Neo-Nazi organizations!

"There is no greater good, only greater profits."

"Who are you?" asked Ling.

"My name is John. I work for a company called Bell Medical. We make everything from bandages to prosthetic legs. I've had my engineers working for years to create the next generation of the wheelchair, something that would restore complete mobility, instead of being constrained by a set of wheels. But they couldn't do it, they said. The costs were too high. The power sources didn't exist.

"And I knew that I couldn't just ask you to build it. I knew that if you built it, you would insist on giving it out for free or something stupid like that. I wanted it for myself, and I wanted you to design it."

"So you conned us into this, using a little girl dying of cancer?"

"Yes."

Ling at this point called John a number of foul and profane names, such that even I, your narrator, will not repeat them.

When she was done, he kept talking.

"Danielle is going with me now. She only has a week left, at most, and her body will be returned to her family as soon after her death as possible."

Donnelly stood up, shook himself off, and looked John in the eye.

"You'll take that girl over my dead body."

Ling saw him, standing tall, bleeding, bruised, soaked in what she hoped was his attackers' blood. He was not thinking clearly, and not quite himself (the blow to his head had knocked some sense out of him) but even in his weakened state, she found him to be the most regal sight she had ever laid eyes on.

"That can be arranged."

John drew a gun from the small of his back and shot Donnelly in the forehead.

Ling, who was kind of halfway up, fell back down and screeched her misery into the linoleum floor of the bank.

John walked over to Thomas, pulled Danielle off of his back, handed her to his goons, stepped over Donnelly's bleeding body and exited the building. Thomas could not exit his suit unless his suit had power, and he sat there, inside his suit, watching helplessly.

Somewhere, deep inside Ling, a fire kindled. This man had killed her friend he was going to die.

Without quite knowing how she did it, she pulled her hands out of the zip-ties, cut her feet loose with one of her knives, and grabbed her Mossberg 500 on the way out the door.

Always, Ling had exercised some level of constraint. She would have none tonight.

"STOP!" she screamed, yelling after John and his goons. "Stop, you filth, you murderers of men and children! Stop, you lousy, flea-bitten pieces of sewage!"

Her voice caught their attention, and her gun held it. They looked scared for a moment.

And then, in a rush of light and sound, the police arrived. Suddenly, the place was swarming with every police officer in a twenty-block radius, along with a SWAT team that had been scrambled from the NYPD central station.

The goons got out of their SUVs, laid down on the ground, and put their hands above their heads. John was thrown across the hood of a police cruiser.

It was over.

Ling felt very tired all of a sudden, and the concrete rushed up to meet her...

The ambulance pronounced Donnelly dead on arrival. Time of death was 10:42 PM.

Danielle died three days later, surrounded by her friends and family. Ling was ill and couldn't be there, but Winn, Port, Thomas, Sergeant Foster, Zach, Kira and Mr. Stewart were all there.

The doctors said that while her experience with The Unnamed hadn't helped her health, it probably didn't hurt her health either. The engineering team took a kind of quiet pride in that.

Donnelly's sacrifice had ensured that both Ling and Danielle walked away from the bank, by stalling for time enough to let the police arrive.

They were buried at the same funeral, Donnelly and Danielle. It seemed right.

Several days after the funeral, once Ling was feeling better, she tracked down Donnelly's boyfriend.

"You have a right to know why Donnelly died."

"I know why Donnelly died."

"No, you know how he died. I want you to know why he died."

And Ling told him about the wonderful things that Donnelly had done.

She told him about the gay conversion facility that he took down.

She told him about the drug ring at Zach's school.

She told him about the bomber he had found, and the girl who found her first real love with his help. She told him about their trip to Vietnam, about sneaking into China.

And she told him a story about a girl named Danielle, and about how in his last moments Caleb Donnelly was strong and regal and brave, and how his last words defended an innocent girl.

And she cried, and he cried, and together they mourned the loss of their best friend.

The Unnamed broke up in the months after Donnelly's death. Ling was never quite the same again. None of them were, really. They all drifted and grieved and got on with their lives. Mr. Stewart kept his think tank together, and together they brought the suit they had designed for Danielle to a much larger audience. They named it after her, and they sold it for the cost of parts and labor.

A year later, Ling received a letter in the mail. It had a return address in Seattle, Washington, but no name.

"Dear Mx. Zhi Ling," it read,

"We have heard of your actions on May 1st, 2017, and we have been watching you since. We run an alternative supermarket in the Seattle area and are hiring a security director.

"We want you to take this position. You have shown time and time again an ability to handle unforeseen situations with grace and integrity, and there is no-one else we would rather have.

"Please state your intentions to this letter, and it will relay your words back to us.

"Yours truly, Andrea Hopkirk, Store Manager at Supernatural Supermarket."

Ling was flabbergasted. She considered it for a few minutes, and then, without meaning to say anything out loud, said, "I guess it's worth a look."

The letter folded itself into an origami eagle and flew away.

Ling had no words for that. She simply thought she had gone insane.

But she had not. As she would soon find out, the store was real, and it truly was supernatural. It was a place where vampires, dragons, ghosts, werewolves, griffins, shades, and other forms of not-officially-recognized life could come and do their shopping.

And Ling? Why, she was to be in charge of protecting it.

To the end of her days, Ling never forgot about Donnelly. He was sweet, and kind, and good. And when, in her advanced age, she went the way of all the earth, she whispered below her breath, "I'm coming Donnelly, I'm coming."

And that brings this series to a close. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. Ling will be returning to this blog for my next series, Supernatural Supermarket.

I am going on hiatus for the next three months. I have some responsibilities to take care of that prevent me from writing.

I’ll see you all around Valentine's Day!

[vhyral]

THE HERALD’S MARCH

100 And One Reasons Why Taking A Stroll Through A Snow Blizzard Isn’t As Much Fun As One Would Think

Setting: Scaling that stupid mountain after the attack on Haven

Words: Around 5000

Warnings: Me murdering english grammar

Nothing, nothing but white.

Feynras is stumbling through a world of snow. There is no difference between sky and earth, between the spot she was standing a second before and the one she has dragged her feet to now. Not in the howling wind that lifts the white powder and swirls it around, covering her tracks, hiding the trees, smacking it against her hair and body. She’s following a morbid trail of broken crates, stray wagon wheels and the occasional stain of bloodied snow that hasn’t still been blanketed by the blizzard. They point forwards, through the white oblivion, to the faint orange hue that is the light of fires, the sign of people, pulsating so far away, it could be a mirage.

Eighty six steps since the cave.

She’s cursing at the pitifully thin clothes that were so in place between Haven’s roaring fireplaces and warm dishes, the rushed decision of forsaking her armor in favor of a few hours of gentler fabrics. The silk does nothing against the cold and the thin overcoat with the fur around her shoulders is whipping at her skin instead of keeping her warm. Her knee, already hurting from the fall, gives way at the next step when the Mark crackles brightly on her palm, harder than she has ever seen it, lighting the snow with its bright green.

Gods, it hurts.

She groans in the blizzard. It feels not like fire and it’s not like physical pain either; it’s like the lightnings Rhian made back in the clan’s camp, jolting her up and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on their ends. But her lightnings only stung a little and tickled down her back and they always laughed and chased each other afterwards. The Mark goes deeper, electrifies the inside of her bones, tags violently at the magic in her veins and disorients her thoughts. It pulls at her chest and makes her whole arm jolt every time it shines.

One more step, Feynras urges herself. One foot before the other. Easy. Piece of a cake. Fahlron would have already shouted at me for dragging my feet again. He’d sneer. Tell me that’s why I am the younger twin.

One more step, she promises. Maybe her ribs aren’t really cracked as she knows they are. Maybe her arm, tightly tied to her side with a makeshift silk bandage, isn’t really broken but only fractured.

Ninety two.

Breathing is getting harder by every inhale; the air is crystallic, tearing her chest from the inside out. When she finds the remains of a fire, she lets out a hopeful moan. Her throat quivers, breaking the sound, sending a burning up to her ears, up to their edges that she can’t feel anymore.

One foot in front of the other.

The fire was cold.

–

She has already counted a hundred and fourty four steps when she sees the half covered trail of a wagon, brandished so deep into the snow, it has not yet been covered up. It’s followed by more trails and twenty steps further down, she finds a cloth caught in a lone, dry weed sticking out of the snow. She can see rough outlines of trees now, grey walls at her sides. The voices of wolves are carried by the wind, howling and growling and running through the snow on light, graceful paws that don’t sink like her feet. Dread wolf take her, she cannot tell if they’re close or far in this seething hell of snow and she cannot walk faster. Fahlron would have known.

Fahlron.

They will stop for the night, his voice soothes in her head, you’ll sure catch up with them. We caught up with the aravels that summer, how faster could shems be?

And I will be there, to kick your ass for what you did, adds the shadow. Just wait until the Keeper hears.

A hundred and sixty two.

When she comes across the next fire pit, Feynras falls on her knees next to it. Her ears hurt where they have not yet become numb, the air she breathes seems to have more snow than oxygen in it. She’s spitting what she can’t swallow, more blood than saliva, red on pristine white. Rocks have replaced the sea of trees around her, marking a narrow path up the mountains. There are rocks under her feet too, the unstable hidden by the snow as much as the safe ones and it has reduced her pace to mere dragging of her feet instead of walking. The Mark sparkles again on her skin and she shoves her left hand into the pit of ashes lying under the triangle of wooden sticks, hoping for coals, hoping it’s going to burn her.

It’s warm instead.

–

Two hundred and thirty six.

Two hundred and thirty seven.

The Mark lashes out and she grunts as all the spectrum of limy green dances in front of her feet.

Two hundred and-

–

“The boss was clear.”

«Fahlron-»

“Move it.”

Dorian exhaled, blood thumbing noisily through the bridge of his nose, the recently healed part still warm and itchy. The argument outside his nursery tent dangerously decreased in volume as he listened, the shuffling of feet replacing the hissed elven curses.

Then someone yelped, the Iron Bull groaned and the crescent blade of a dagger cut through the tent’s fabric, sinking itself deep into the stepped snow near Dorian’s boot, making the mage jump and a startled “kaffas” to leave his lips.

«Fahlron, please!»

Rhiannon when Dorian threw the front of his tent open, both hands firmly grasping the hunter’s arm still holding one of his twin daggers. Bull sported a fresh cut across his chest; he sighed and brushed away the few blood trails.

«Krem, last time I checked, I could handle an armed elf.»

Krem run a finger over his bruised knuckles. «Sorry, Chief. With all the yelling, I thought the dragon was back.»

The dalish hunter had a new bleeding scar himself now, Dorian noticed, the skin of his left cheekbone red and raw. A few bloody drops rolled down on his lips and he bit hard over them, glaring at both qunari and soldier.

If only looks could kill, Dorian hummed to himself, our trebuchets would have to sign up for an early retirement.

«You left her for dead.» Fahlron seethed, completely ignoring his cousin hanging from his shoulder as he tried to take a step forward and dragged her with him. «That thing came for her and you gave her to him just like that. And now that her job is done, you’re still keeping me from her?»

«You don’t want to go down there, kid.» Varric ‘s voice came behind them, hoarse and tired and Dorian let his gaze wander over the snowy mountains, where a hazy mix of snow and smoke was still littering parts of the sky. The people’s cries around them, the hushed whispers of the worn out healers created a sorrowful lullaby in his ears.

Somewhere out there, under tons of snow- the Altus shuddered.

«With the whole mountainside down on Haven…» Next to him, the dwarf shook his head with grief, deep lines creasing his brow. «There is hardly anything that you’d want to find. Remember her- remember her as she was.»

«Even so!» Fahlron’s fingers hardened around the dagger though his voice cracked, spilled and died out.

«We have to.» Rhian straightened her back next to him, her eyes red and puffy and still glistening with tears. «She did her part and now, we have to find her. And if she- if she’s gone, we have to plant her tree.»

–

“White snow, white sky, white breath out of my lips. Fuck that tree, fuck that rock, fuck this air, fuck every dragon in the world.”

Leliana jumped where she was sitting, in one of the few infirmary tents, watching a healer tending to Cassandra’s cut and injured leg. The young, pale boy that stared at them through the tent’s entrance hadn’t been there a second before.

“Andraste’s flaming sword!” Cullen gasped from his seat next to her. “Where did he come from?”

“One foot forwards, the other follows, two hundred and forty. The fires looked closer from the mountain’s base. Fuck the mountain, fuck Tevinter, fuck the Fade, fuck the world. Rinse. Repeat. Fuck that tree in particular.”

“What’s with all the swearing?” they heard Cassandra call.

“What are you talking about?” Leliana was looking at him bewildered. The aloof young man had been of great help in their escape from Haven- he had kept children from wandering in the blizzard, he had been there to help elders from tumbling down the mountainside, he had kept people from panicking when they had been momentarily lost in a particularly thick cloud of snow.

“She’s hurt.” he said instead of an answer. “The air is too cold and her clothes too thin- she should have worn the armor or have stolen his coat.”

“What?” snorted Cullen, feeling agitated under those colorless eyes.

“Her legs are giving up and she can barely breathe. It is the hand that is the worst- he did something, something, and now it’s open, dripping light, bleeding magic, draining me.”

“What are you?” growled Cassandra from the tent’s depths. “I can feel-”

“Her hand… are you talking about the Herald?” Cullen’s voice overlapped with hers as he leaned forwards, a spark in his eyes. “Is she alive? How do you-”

“You can hear her!”

Leliana sprung from her seat and the boy nodded, his wide hat rippling with the motion.

“She’s tired and the pain- she’s close but she doesn’t know. Steps are getting heavier, shorter, slower. She wants to live, she wants to see them.” He looked up at the spymaster. “I’ll show you.”

“Impossible!” she heard Cassandra cry as Cullen burst out of the warm tent, hastily following her and Cole through the snowy wind.

–

“Maker’s Mercy!”

There were voices in the wind and orange hues in the distance when she looked up from the snow. Red, orange, black, green, she thought. Some blue would look marvelous right about now. The sky. No more clouds. No more snow. Maybe the sun.

“It’s her!”

“She’s alive!”

Feynras could barely hear them over the wind in her ears and the rugged breathing in her chest.

Three hundred and one…

At the next step, her knee buckled weirdly and the muscle fluttered; the mage found herself falling to her knees, the world spinning.

“Herald!”

There was an arm around her shoulders when she came back from a moment of blackness. A warm, steady arm, too warm to be true. “M-Ma serannas-s!” she gasped with frozen lips and rattling teeth, desperately leaning closer. “Ma s-s-serannas!”

Her face was buried in fur and glorious heat. The arm around her hovered with uncertainty for a moment, then grabbed her firmly again, fingers digging into her shoulder. There was some fumbling around and she was wrapped into something warm.

“She’s freezing!” cried a male voice over her head.

“Healers!” demanded a woman. “Bring her in! Cassandra!” she reprimanded. “Go back right this moment! Don’t step on that foot!”

Feynras was whisked up in the air, sturdy arms under her back and the back of her knees. The arms were too thick, she was raised too high over the ground. She got pressed against something chilly and rocked against it as the man ran. She moaned to the touch. Blinking her eyes hurt though she managed to see deep red and sunny gold through the frozen eyelids. Not Fahlron, then.

“Com-mmander.” she managed. “C-Cullen.”

“Herald!” he answered. “Herald, keep your eyes open! Don’t fall asleep!”

She heard him through the haziness spreading like mist behind her eyes. It was so warm now, so comfortable, she had walked for so long. Surely it wouldn’t hurt so… Her eyelids fluttered.

“Herald!” Cullen pleadingly growled again over her head. “You must stay awake! Not now-”

“Feynras!”

–

Cullen watched from his corner in the tent. The wind was howling outside, banging on the heavy fabrics around them but the fire pit burnt steadily in the center. The Herald was laying on a makeshift bed, under a pile of blankets, all that could be spared. Cassandra’s, Dorian’s, Varric’s, Rhian’s, Fahlron’s, his.

Solas was hunched over her, treating her. The few healers that weren’t yet completely exhausted had found and binded all the external wounds they could while making her down healing potions, one after another, as often as they dared. Yet she hadn’t yet woken up when they had done all they could and left to replenish their mana and the elven mage was visibly stiff as he looked over her. At her side, her dark haired brother was holding her hand firmly between his own, his body hunched close to hers as if to share his warmth. He was whispering to her in elven and giving Solas anxious glances with those eyes of the same grassy green. Their cousin, kneeling on the other side of the makeshift bed, was assisting the other mage, asking and pointing out in a low voice with her ears plastered to the sides of her head. Somewhere at Cullen’s right, Cole was sitting on a log, watching the elves under the rim of his hat and occasionally murmuring to himself. Mother Giselle was further in the spacious tent, preparing a beverage that left a sweet, warm scent flood the air, dangerously numbing his senses and lulling him to a sweet drowsiness.

It had been a scary race to the camp, with the elf hanging limply from his arms, her fingers, lips and ears shaded blue and her left hand spitting out pulsing waves of angry green. She was small and weightless and Cullen hadn’t thought it possible to run so fast through snow before.

Now, as he looked under heavy eyelids, Solas helped her to one more healing potion. She coughed and hacked this time as the liquid was forced down her throat, squirming a little in his arms.

“Ma da’lathin!” Rhian called suddenly and Cullen’s head was shot up while Fahlron’s ears twitched. «Feynras!» Cassandra poked her own head in through the tent’s opening, where she had been sitting for the past hour, wrapped in furs. “You’re safe now, da’lhen,” Solas soothed, “but you must tell me, does it hurt anywhere?”

“Chest-” croaked the Herald in an almost inaudible, ghostly voice. “My chest-”

“I’ll need more bandages.” Solas called to Mother Giselle as he flipped the blankets over, reaching for her blouse.

“Nae.”

The Herald’s voice rang louder and broken when the elf was done with the robes and began rolling the blood stained shirt over her head. Cullen saw her hands stiffen at her sides.

“It’s ok, Lavellan.” Solas whispered gently, feeling at her ribs, touching with feather light fingers and grimacing at what he found. Three, he briefly mouthed to them and Cullen’s heart sank in his chest. Cassandra grunted and Feynras was shifting on the bed with increasing intensity while Rhiannon was anxiously fidgeting, smoothing down her hair and whispering soothingly at her. Fahlron remained still as a statue through it all, clasping her hand with his features drawn.

“It’s me.” Solas spoke. “Don’t move. I’ll have to bind your sides.”

“Nae!” she cried when he tried to stabilize her torso, eyes wide open and glassy. “Nae, nae! Ga rahn!” (No, no! Go away!)

Fahlron lowered himself and spoke to her words Cullen didn’t understand. The Herald seemed to relax for a while but when the elven apostate tried to proceed, she snapped again. He clicked his tongue as he leaned to examine her irises. “Unresponsive.” he mumbled. “She’s confused, not really listening. Cassandra.” Cullen had half raised himself as the young woman thrashed but Solas motioned to the Seeker and he sat himself down again. “Please, keep her from moving.”

“Hands on my hands, too big, unyielding, weight on my hips, a knee on my chest, I cannot breathe.”

Cullen jumped to the whispering voice coming under the hat.

“The fire in his eyes, his fingers around my neck, oh Creators, help me.”

He had completely forgotten about the young man next to him yet as he turned to look at him with curiosity, Feynras let out a yelp and he felt the air in the tent stir.

It tagged at his guts, made the lyrium in his veins sing and burn in the pit of his belly. It was the stirring of magic gathering that only a templar could feel, called from the Fade and pooling around the Herald, hot and burning and about to be released. Cassandra groaned painfully, sweat forming on her brow and in a matter of seconds, the tent’s inside began to boil.

Instinct obeying years of training and active duty, Cullen crisply turned towards the bedridden elf and raised a hand.

“Silence.” He spoke the word though it was not needed, an old habit. With an inaudible crack, the magic in the tent dispensed and thinned out. The sudden heat gone, chilly, bone cracking air rushed inside, beating wildly on the entrance’s cloth and carrying fresh snowflakes at their feet.

“What are you doing, Templar?!” Fahlron had jumped to his feet before he could blink, mouth drawn to a snarl and hand reaching for a dagger when his sister responded.

“NAE!”

The Herald let out a howl and her body arched on the bed, making the hunter freeze in place; wasn’t Cassandra firmly holding her hands over her head, she would have fallen off. Solas looked at her with surprise but then leaned forward again. Before he could touch her though, he found his hand held.

“Let me.” said Fahlron, leaning over the other elf and Cullen noticed that the elf’s face was painted in a pale gray, his eyes dark and ominous.

“Let me.” he repeated and it was not an offer. When Solas finally straightened his back, giving him a curious glance, the hunter leaned over his twin, gently pushing her shoulders down. He gave his cousin a brief glance and she nodded.

«Sylaise, guide my hands.» she prayed before turning to Solas.

«Please.» she pleaded. «Solas. Help me help her.»

The elf regarded the both of them for a brief second before he quickly leaned back close, explaining, talking and guiding the other mage’s hands. Rhian listened carefully, beginning to work on the bandages, whispering to the Herald under her breath.

“Ga rahn! Ar tu na'din!” Feynras was growling now. “Ar tu na’din! Ma halam! Nae!” (I will kill you! You are finished! No!)

She kept on mumbling and growling until Solas was done with his treatment.

“My magic, my power, me, me, me! My self!” came the hushed voice from his right and even though Cullen still jumped at its sound, this time he turned to look at the young man as he stared at the elf under his hat, looking increasingly agitated.

“Cut off of me, taken, stolen. Thief, murderer with his breath behind my neck, his hands like chains and she’s crying, she’s bloody, she’s dead. Useless, a wolf without a pack, a hunter with no bow. Brothers, where are you?”

Then, on the peak raising, his voice went silent and Cullen let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He had talked about magic being stolen, about being silenced- a shiver ran down the man’s back but the boy’s words were reduced to a soft, incomprehensible mumbling during the next hour, until Solas finally wiped his hands and signaled for Cassandra that it was ok to release the now quieter Herald. Rhian kept holding her hand, peeking worriedly at the Mark though no more light was bleeding through her fingers while Fahlron wrapped her back into the blankets before placing a hand on the golden halo over the other elf’s head and whispering.

“Ir abelas, lethallan, ir abelas. It is alright now.”

The Herald let out a low, throaty whimper, broken from the cold and her screams when Mother Giselle stepped closer to the bed, a steaming cup in her hands. Fahlron sniffed the air next to her, glaring at the cup but Rhian shook her head and he settled down again, resigning himself to tired staring. Kneeling next to the bed, the woman slipped a hand under the elf’s head and carefully brought the cup to her lips. “Drink, child.” she said in a low, gentle voice when she refused the cup. “Drink and you may sleep soundly.”

Maybe driven by the Mother’s kind voice, maybe too tired to resist, Feynras downed the warm drink in the end and her eyelids slowly close. Soon the only sound over the snowy wind and the crackling of fire was that of the sound breathing of sleep.

–

When Feynras woke up, her body temperature had gone from an icicle in a snowstorm straight to ‘just bathed in dragon fire’.

At least there was a roof over her head, she registered, the dark green fabric of the Inquisition’s tents and she could hear the cruckle of fire, surprisingly close to her cot and unexpectedly soothing. It meant people and people meant she was safe again - as safe as someone could be, hiding in the mountains from a crazed, mass murdering wanna-be-god and his pet dragon.

It was the second time in a couple of months that she found herself waking up, having just made it out of a catastrophe. Feynras let out a groan to the unpleasant memories and tried to move instead. The reason of the heat quickly became apparent- her body was buried under what seemed to be the entirety of blankets found in the camp. The cozy hill refused to bulge under her movements and her muscles stung with disapproval, shore and bruised, reminding her that she had indeed taken a three meters dive on rotten wood and stone and then scaled a mountain during the few past hours.

Both her hands tugged at something when she decided to try and just push the blankets away and for a second she wondered if she had woken up bound, a suspect once again. Looking though, she found Fahlron, gripping her fingers tightly and breathing lightly, eyes closed as he leaned back on a wooden chair by the side of her bed. On the other side, Rhian’s auburn hair was all that was visible, the elf having fainted from tiredness on the floor and against her bed, hands still firmly around her own.

Freeing her left hand, she mussed with Rhian’s hair. A dry leaf wandered down from it but the elf didn’t move a muscle, only huffed a little in her sleep.

«Don’ let it breathe… on you…» she mumbled. «Bad… drag’n… Sit.»

«You will freeze if you sleep there, asa’var’lin.» she murmured before turning to stare at her brother. His skin was paper white even under the orange fire glow and with a new wound overlapping with the old scar on his cheek. Feeling him so close she found was more comforting than the tent, the fire, the sound of voices outside and Feynras gave his hand a squeeze, her fingers curling around the familiar shape of his bigger, cooler ones. He didn’t move.

“You’re awake.” came a gentle voice from the head of her bed.

Mother Giselle was standing there in worn chantry robes that had surely seen better days, probably in some sun lit cathedral. Anywhere warmer.

“I am.” Feyras said, surprising herself with how hoarse her voice was now that she spoke louder, as if Varric had just spoken through her throat. Her tongue felt thick and somewhat limp between her teeth. “Did you get the name of the mountain that fell on me by any chance, Mother Giselle? I’d like to press charges.”

“Or at least set it on fire.” she added when the older woman let out a low sigh and moved closer. “That would be an improvement.”

“It would, my dear, though I think the snow and local wildlife would disagree.”

“The snow can shove it.” Feynras groaned, rubbing her forehead with a hand. She caught a glimpse of the streak of green scarring the inside of her palm but the Mark sat there closed and innocent, like it hadn’t been frying her nerves a few hours prior.

“We should let our leaders know.” Mother Giselle softly said, having checked her color and now heading for the tent’s entrance. “They’ve been circling the tent for hours now but the mage ordered for rest and silence- knowing that you’re awake should be comforting to them.”

Feynras sighed. Not a moment of rest for the weary. “Mother.” she resigned herself, carefully unlacing Fahlron’s fingers from her own. “If you would help me with the blankets first.”

–

“What would you have me tell them? This isn’t what we asked them to do!”

Cullen’s voice rang over the nearby tents, anger spilling alongside frustration.

“We can’t simply ignore this! We must find a way!”

“And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!” Josephine argued.

The ambassador was still holding the adorned board that always carried her papers. Feynras suspected that while people had fled Haven clinging on clothes, supplies and loved ones, the scented wood had never left the Antivan’s hands. Its candle stood unlit, to preserve it for when she would actually need to read her documents. For now, all the board provided was reassurance in a night where all the walls and safety had been robbed of them.

“That can’t come from nowhere!”

“She didn’t say it could!”

“Well, we agree on that much!”

She watched them scatter after the Commander’s last burst. The front of her tent now stood open, the fabric tied up and allowing her view of their little gathering while she was still on her bed near the fire.

They had come to see her right away and with them, Solas. The mage seemed weary and drained of mana and Feynras could guess why. She had offered him a whispered ma serannas when he had leaned over her and he had given her a minute, tired smile in exchange. He had seemed weirdly cautious while checking her pulse and ribs but had finally deemed her able to move and the blankets had been removed. He had left for his own tent afterwards, the one right next to yours, he had assured. He had given her a glance, nodded and mouthed later before exiting.

Feynras lifted herself on her elbows. “They’ve been at it for hours.” she winced at Mother Giselle that sat next to her bed, watching the scene unfold.

“They have the luxury, thanks to you.” the Mother shook her head. “The enemy couldn’t follow, and with time to doubt, we turn to blame.”

“Infighting will tear us apart.” the elf shook her head. “If they keep on like that, we won’t even have to wait for Corypheus to track us down. Do we even know where he is?” The creaking of the trebuchet, the roar of the incoming avalanche and the ground shaking under tons of snow were all still fresh in her memory. Yet, she had seen that damned dragon take flight as she fell- all the struggle and that bastard might have still been alive.

“We don’t know where we are.” Rhian huffed from where she was sitting, at the feet of her cousin’s bed. «All I can see are mountains and white- I had never thought there could be too much snow.»

«You?» Feynras snorted through her nose. «Too much snow? And here I thought the sky falling was the weirdest thing I’d see this year round.»

«Yeah, certainly not a good thing when the ice mage is dreaming of some more fire time.» Rhian murmured, her lips pressed into a thin line. «We know where Haven is but unless we’re planning on going back, that’s of no help. I heard the spymaster. We fled the way opposite of civilization- this part of the Frostbacks has never been mapped. No roads, no landmarks, no nothing. Only rocks.»

«Which might be why Corypheous or his forces haven’t found us yet.» Mother Giselle straightened on her seat, watching over the scattered advisors with weary eyes. «That, or you are believed dead. Or without Haven, we are thought toothless, lost in the mountains to perish from the cold. Or he girds for another attack. I cannot claim to know the mind of that creature, only his effect on us.”

“If that thing is still out there, we have to move.” Fahlron poked his head over the tent’s side, a waterskin in each hand. “Want some?” he offered Feynras one. “It’s ale. Shemlen ale, though it should still help with the pain.”

Feynras shook her head. “My tongue’s still weird, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It’s kinda… squishy?” She probed her tongue out- it pulsed in the cool air. “Ith the coloth al’ ith?”

“Not green yet.” Fahlron grumbled, leaning closer to stare at it. “A dozen healing potions do that to people. I don’t know if you can get overdozed with those things but you certainly got too close for my liking.” He gave her puffed out cheeks a light tap and turned to Rhian when Feynras recoiled from him.

«Ale?» he offered, leaning against one of the poles holding the tent up.

She regarded him for a few seconds, a shadow passing over her eyes before she shook it away, taking the water skin and sniffing at it.

«Who did you scare into giving you this?»

Fahlron took a swing before raising an eyebrow. «Nobody.» he shrugged. «These are Krem’s, given willingly.» he added when the mage glared at him. «For the Herald and to get back on good spirits after this.» He flicked an irritated ear over his bruised left cheek. The red mark there was quickly melting into a sickly purple, mingling with the black of his vallaslin. He eyed his sister.

“Won’t you heal it for me?”

Feynras cackled. “I’m pretty sure that whatever that is, you deserve it. Who did you try to beat up?” she huffed yet raised a hand up to him anyway. Her fingers cupped around the familiar shape of her brother’s cheek, fitting around it as she called forth a tiny bit of magic through her fingertips, tensing in anticipation to the Mark’s reaction.

She felt nothing but the usual sunlight-like warmth of healing magic slipping through her palm and into the chilled skin underneath, mending the tiny internal bleeding. Ready, she muttere when Fahlron’s skin color was back to normal and flexed her fingers as her brother straightened up, glaring at the advisors.

«They are channeling all their bottled up anger at each other.» The hunter turned to the Revered Mother. «And we are losing precious time.» he pointed out to where the advisors had scattered. Lelianna was sitting on the ground, legs folded and head between her knees while Josephine was on the bench behind her, fiddling with her papers, a lost gaze in her eyes. Cassandra was staring at the map with her arms planted firmly on the table, her shoulders squared and chin tensed - from time to time she’d grunt, take a few raging steps around and then return to it. Cullen had left for a walk around the refugees’ tents, venturing away from their field of vision.

“This is not the time to loiter around, wondering who’s in charge or how to rally the people forward.” Fahlron hissed. “There’s a monster at our tail - one mention of the dragon and all these people will be ready to march in the morning. We must go!”

[ashaphros]

Mythology Asks answered for @tombsofthevoid

Anubis: How do you feel about death? Death used to terrify me. I couldn’t even go past a graveyard without wigging out. Now I hang out in them, and I feel like death really is just another part of life. I feel like our physical time is limited, so truly we should just live in the moment, because we never know when it’ll end.

Atum: What are your greatest imperfections? Feeling too much and my chubby cheeks.

Bastet: Do you have any cats? I have a cat named Critter who is beautiful and mouthy and weird and she is the love of my life.

Hathor: What brings you joy? Music, singing, roadtrips, traveling, writing stuff I’m proud of, the wind, the grass on my feet, the ocean, the stars, being intertwined with someone (but also how the slightest touch can hold so much power), feeling completely comfortable with someone, making mix CDs/playlists, when the Orioles win …………

Horus: What is one thing you’ve had to fight for in your life? My self-worth. I used to only feel good about myself when someone wanted to have sex with me, but finding value in myself without any outside influence has been a serious struggle and I feel like I’ll be fighting for it my whole life.

Osiris: Do you believe in the underworld? I want to believe, but no. I definitely believe in the spirit world and other realms besides the physical, but I don’t think there’s one specific underworld. I think it’s all around us and happening at the same time. I do carry a penny in my pocket or bra at all times though, so if you’re with me when I die, please make sure to put it in my mouth to pay Charon to help me shift out of the physical world as this current incarnation.

Ra: Do you have any major responsibilities or importance? We all important b. But, I feel like coming out to my family as bisexual is important. I have no problem telling people I’ve just met that I’m bi, but my sisters are super baptist and I hold a lot of fear that they’ll either never want to see me again, or have me around my nieces and nephew, or look at me the same. But I think being totally honest with them, to have them know they are bloodlinked with someone they believe is “wrong” will give them a different perspective on humans in general. We’re all in this together, and my heart goes out to all closeted people who choose to be out of fear.

Thoth: Do you like to read/write? Yessssssssss. I work at a library and I dunno how many stacks of books I have around the house. I’m a major defender against censorship. My favorite books are Siddhartha, 1984, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I also love fiction that takes place in the 60s and 70s (like The Girls and Crooked) and futuristic stuff that feels like it takes place in the past (like The Giver, Fahrenheit 451, and Cat’s Cradle). I loveeeeeee Greek mythology, so I’ve read a bunch of the individual myths and Myths of the Ancient Greeks by Richard P. Martin is really groovy, and I’ve been trying to make it through The Odyssey for about a year now, but I’m not giving up! I’ve been writing since I was in first grade. I’ve always kept a journal. I write poems and I’ve tried short stories but never had much luck sticking with them. I would love to travel though and gain experiences and incorporate them in my writing and it’s a goal of mine to get published one day.

Arawn: What is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever done? Probably any time I was the first person to tell someone I liked them, and especially when I loved them.

Bran: How is your health? Hahahaha, fucking shitty. I was diagnosed with colitis on Halloween a few years back, and I’m not keeping it in check, so physically, my joints (especially my knees) kill and there are times I use energy work to help my digestion when I can feel my intestines burning and yelling at me. My doctor thinks it was psychosomatic, I wanted to be skinny and I was feeding off other people’s reactions like “Oh you look so good!” when I was shitting blood 20+ times a day, that I waited so long to get looked at and my body is/was attacking itself. I was also diagnosed with major depression a couple summers ago and it was like “so THIS is what’s wrong with me”– sleeping 10 hours and still feeling tired, not wanting to plan my life or even seeing a point in it, cutting, no self-worth. I’m a hell of a lot better than I was, but I recognize that this is something that is never going to go away, and to try and focus on what brings me joy instead of what brings me down. I’ve been feeling super suicidal these past couple weeks though, to the point where I can’t even hold a knife without wanting to shove it into my stomach, but I’m still here and I’m still fighting.

Brighid: Tell us about your relationship with your father. My dad left us when I was five and it was kind of like “oh, dad’s not living with us anymore”, I didn’t really understand what was going on. I’d see him Wednesday nights and every other weekend, and I absolutely loved driving around and listening to the classic rock station in his truck. It wasn’t until I was a teenager, dealing with his alcoholism and finding out about his affair with one of my sister’s friends, that everything hit me. The day he went into rehab was the first time I cut. I don’t think he’s ever loved himself and I don’t think he ever wanted kids (he got my mom pregnant when she was 19 and I think married her because it was “the right thing to do”, instead of being honest with himself and letting his marriage go on for 17 years and three children later), and when I realized that, I was so angry, but it also brought some clarity to the situation. He’s with a woman now he’s known since he was a kid, and she’s super quirky and outgoing and cool, but at the same time, controlling and demeaning and will cut you off if you’re on her bad side, and he never sticks up for himself or me and my sisters, he just goes along with whatever she says. He lives six hours away and I haven’t seen him since January and it’s been over a month since we’ve spoken on the phone, but I believe we have this unspoken understanding that we love each other and think about each other. I just wish he loved himself more, and I’m sure he feels the same about me.

Cernunnos: What is your favorite animal? Llamas, cats, seahorses, octopi, capybaras, crows …………

Danu: What is your relationship with your mother? I held a lot of resentment toward my mom as a teenager because of our conflicting beliefs on religion and lifestyle and my drug use. But since I was 9, it’s been me and her because my sisters are so much older than me and my dad was out of the house, so I’ve been her therapist and confidant my whole life. But I’ve hidden so much from her. It’s still very hard to be completely honest with her, even though we are living under the same roof (which I’m very grateful she let me move back in). But once I start seeing that it’s okay to live the life I want and take steps to move out, I hope our relationship can flourish. We’re similar in that we’re both giving and hardworking and we look so much alike that there’s no denying we’re mother and daughter. She’s going through some health problems with her heart rn, and I’m truly scared, but she knows I’m here for her just like she has been my whole life.

Morrigan: What do you think happens when we die? I believe we are a collection of mental, spiritual, and emotional energy inhabiting a physical body, and when we die, our soul(s) search for another body to continue what we need to learn or let go of and this continues until the physical work is done. I think once that happens, we’ll be able to travel through all realms freely.

Olwen: What is your favorite flower? Honeysuckle. I love summer and it’s the sweetest tasting thing on earth and it represents intertwined lovers, which I think is so beautiful.

Rhiannon: Have you ever been betrayed? A friend in high school dated two guys I liked, one she knew I was especially into. But they both turned out to be assholes, so hey.

Bragi: What kind of music do you listen to? Mainly 60s and 70s rock (Black Sabbath, The Rolling Stones, Kiss, Rod Stewart, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin) but I dig Otis Redding, Sublime, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Van Halen, Pearl Jam, Eric Burdon, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Nicks ………….. I love the sitar and harpsichord and accordion and violin, so I listen to some “world music” too.

Freya: Have you ever been in love? Once, and I currently am. It’s with a guy I want so bad, I’ve built up in my head that he’s my soulmate/twin flame, but he is so hypocritical (he doesn’t want anything with anyone, but wants everything with someone at the same time) and feeds off hate, that I feel like I’m just running my heart over back and forth with my truck thinking about us being forever. It sucks and it hurts dude, and I can’t keep killing myself over him, but I continue to do so every second of every day.

Freyr: Do you have any children? I am a proud and cool aunt of two nieces and a nephew, and I just recently found out one of my sisters is pregnant. Biologically I’m built to have children, but mentally, I don’t think I’m meant to have children in this lifetime.

Hœnir: Are you a silent or talkative person? Silent for the most part, but with the right person, I can talk and talk about music and movies and books and mythology and philosophy forever.

Iounn: How old are you? 25

Loki: What is the best trick you’ve ever pulled on someone? Probably that I’ve been straight since I was 11. Uhmmmmmm when I was like 5, I hid in a cabinet in the kitchen to scare my sisters when they got home from school, and my mom and her friends were playing cards at the table and I was in there so long they forgot I was there until my sisters came in for food and I slowly opened the cabinet door and scared the shit out of alllllllll of them.

Odin: What is your family like? My mom likes watching movies and playing cards (I want to take her to Vegas, like she’s THAT good, but all she thinks that town is is drugs and hookers smh) and gardening. My dad is a really good cook, he’s sensitive and artsy. My oldest sister Lauren loves being outdoors, she has a wonderful laugh, and she is really good with a sewing machine, but her husband doesn’t appreciate her and it pisses me off. My sister Stacy is hilarious, she took me to my first concert (Def Leppard, which I’ve now seen three times), a really great photographer, but I feel like marriage and motherhood has made her a shell and it makes me sad, like she’s forgotten who she is. My niece Emery is 10 and headstrong, a painter and drawer and wrestler, and demands to be heard, she’s my snuggle buddy. My nephew Landon is 7 and sweet as can be, likes building things, and sees through the bullshit. I hope to one day feel completely comfortable in my skin with all of them and I’m striving toward it.

Thor: Would you consider yourself pretty powerful? I didn’t think so for a long time, but now I’m beginning to see that I am. Wicca and meditation and energy work and being able to see and feel the spirit world around us have tremendously helped with that. I recognize that being hypersensitive and empathetic and peace loving are not bad qualities, but strong ones.

Tree: What have you done with your life? What are you going to do with it? I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life besides give it away to other people, most of whom didn’t even ask me to. What I am going to do though is travel and sing and write and shed my light on this world.

Aphrodite: What do you think of yourself? Depends on the day or hour you ask, but I think I am compassionate and open minded, a sensualist, an old soul, musical, self-destructive, passionate, an observer ………….

Ares: Are you an easy person to anger? When it comes to judging or hating someone because they’re “different” than you, then yes, I will get pissed, but I’m pretty easy going for the most part.

Athena: Would you consider yourself an artist? Yes, I’m a singer and writer and appreciater of all art.

Apollo: Do you play any instruments? I’ve been dabbling with the piano and some percussion, but nah, I’m much more of a singer.

Dionysus: Do you drink? Yes, I love Long Island Iced Teas and piña coladas and I recently started drinking beer, I just need to learn to be patient and not drink so much at the beginning of planning on getting drunk because lately I’ve been throwing up because of it.

Hades: Do you have a bad reputation? I don’t give a damn bout my bad reputation.

Hekate: Have you ever tried to communicate with the dead? I had a dream once that I was in a house where all the relatives on my dad’s side of the family were. My grandma died when I was 2, and I heard she was a very kind lady who listened to Creedence Clearwater Revival on her tractor, and I want nothing more than to be able to meet up with her, so ever since, when I meditate, I try to go back to that house and find her. There’s also a little boy ghost I saw when I was thirteen with big brown eyes and a bowl cut that, when I told the guy I’m in love with about him, he said he’s seen him too, so I’ve been trying for the past year to contact him too.

Hermes: Have you ever stolen anything? Lipgloss from Target and a pack of Marlboro Gold 100s from my friend’s grandparents when I was fifteen. Stealing the cigarettes still haunts me ten years later.

Poseidon: Are you a moody person? Yeah, I’ve been known to be emotionally unstable and I’m trying to get a grasp on it.

Zeus: Are you a confidant person? Sometimes, but not usually. If it has to do with music or dates or actors’ names and what they’ve been in and when, I’m always like “I got this” though.

Pluto: Where do you think we go when we die? I think we go wherever our next incarnation needs to grow.

Apollo & Dianna: Do you prefer to be up during the day or at night? Night

Mars: Have you ever gotten into a fight? I never liked confrontation, but I’m seeing that it’s important to stand up for what you believe. Most fights I’ve been in have been over trying to explain something that doesn’t come out right. And I honestly would love to get into a fist fight some day, just to feel what it’s like. I really want to punch one of my exes in the mouth, like if I ever see him again, I’m gonna punch him in the mouth and then walk away.

Minerva: Do you generally give good advice? I do, and I never take my own advice.

Proserpine: Have you ever felt trapped? I feel trapped rn. I’ve never felt like myself, always trying to be what I think other people want me to be, and it’s left me lost and trapped.

Plutus: Do you have a job? Library represent. My dream job though would be to have my own radio station.

Venus: Have you ever had your heart broken? It’s breaking as I speak.

Vesta: Do you like being home or do you try to get out whenever you can? I do like staying home and reading, meditating, taking a bath, sleeping, watching the Orioles play and That 70s Show on tv, but I do love going out and hanging out in graveyards, at Waffle House, walking around getting drunk or stoned, singing in the car, and rollerblading. I feel a calling to get up and leave asap.

Morpheus: Do you daydream often? Of what? I live in a daydream. I daydream about singing onstage, of sitting in a coffee shop in a new city writing, of being with the guy I love forever, of meeting up with a shaman to help me navigate through the spirit world better, of living at a Buddhist temple and working for the monks and cleansing my negative energy, of hitchhiking, of being 100% and completely me.