#i need to learn more about william wisp you don’t understand

[artandbrimstone]

watched the first few episodes of pd because i don’t have the patreon and i hate myself

anyway wiwi beloved would love to know more about you king however fate has not allowed that (i have no money)

the first set of doodles are bad bc my wrist was in pain sorry 😔

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling at the Seams Pt 26

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendo, Possible NSFW Rating: M Length: Multi Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: this is, sadly, the last part to this story. Thank you all for reading, liking, and commenting. I can’t explain how much that means to me. I loved writing this and I am sad to see it end. But! There are some potential tie ins to come ;) 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

Back in London for the summer, possibly the rest of the year, except for a few press tours and maybe a small vacation made things a little more relaxed and definitely content. Filming for The Witcher had wrapped in May, a bittersweet moment. Although there was a confidence that Netflix would order a second season, they'd be crazy not to. In the mean time Henry had taken a role for a film centering around the famed Holmes Family. Portraying Sherlock in a story about the great detective's younger sister Enola.

Period costumes were always a treat, despite having a fraction of the control that she did with Geralt; Nell was holding it together. She'd come to like being in charge, who knew it was where she truly shined? Working with Henry was fantastic, as well, they had an excellent team surrounding them and work never felt like work.

Ivan had accompanied his parents almost daily, hanging out with his mother in the costume department, while Henry was on set. The odd day he would ask to stay home, though it was rare he wasn't milling around watching or blushing like a tomato when a certain young lady spoke to him. Poor kid, he had inherited Henry's bashfulness when it came to women.

A rare day off between press and filming, called for one thing and one thing only. Sleeping in.

Nothing short of an Earth Shattering disaster was pulling Henry from his bed before 10am. Ivan had been under strict instructions that if he woke first, take Kal out, then go watch tv or read a book. There were things he could eat without using a stove, he'd be fine on his own for a few hours. If the house was in danger, come wake an adult.

Snuggling into Henry's back Nell sighed and yawned. She'd spent nearly the entire night with her face squashed into his shoulder blades, too comfortable to move. Fighting her eyes to stay closed, she whimpered, it was too early to be awake. The sun was gently streaming through the crack in the dark curtains, wretched thing, casting a light across the room. Scrunching her eyes shut, she wrinkled her nose.

“Too early,” Henry whispered, his voice hoarse and thick with sleep. “Back to sleep, my darling.”

“I'm trying.” Nell groaned, kissing his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“9:45,” Reading the clock beside his head, Henry groaned and rolled slightly not wanting to crush Nell behind him. He'd grown nearly three sizes since last summer, a wall of solid muscle, if he got any bigger Nell would be sleeping on the couch because the bed was only so big.

“Close enough,” She scooted back, her head resting on the soft pillow. Gently pushing a stray curl away from Henry's eyes, she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “I don't hear the wild boy and the bear, they must still be in bed.”

“Even if they're up, I locked the door last night.” Henry winked, a lazy smile on his face. Door locks for the bedroom were a fantastic invention, whoever came up with that idea had clearly been a parent. “They can knock and shout, if they need us.”

“You're learning, I like it.” Nell giggled, stretching her arms over her head. Groaning at the feeling of muscles releasing throughout her body. The air in the room slightly cool on her naked skin. “Do we have to get out of bed, yet?”

“Never,” Shaking his head, Henry wasn't ready to climb out of their little bubble yet. “I say we stay here forever.”

“Good, I will take that offer.” Placing a kiss on his soft lips, she smiled. Kissing him again, she wrapped her arm around his neck drawing him in. “I could do that forever, my love.” Gently playing with the mess of curls, Nell sighed feeling Henry's breath on her neck and shoulder.

“I could let you do that forever,” Henry grinned, giving her another kiss. His arms tightening around her back, holding her against him. She fit perfectly against his frame, a tiny detail that he loved.

Laying in bed, Henry smiled lazily, everything about her was perfect. God he loved this woman. Everything about her made his heart swell and – he groaned, at the phone buzzing on the stand beside him. It was a day off. No phones before noon.

“Go ahead.” Nell encouraged, pulling the sheet up around her. “It could be important.”

Reaching for the phone, Henry frowned seeing the text. The name on the screen sent his heart racing, his mouth dry, and his palms sweaty. Reading the text, he felt the tension and fear melt. To think he'd almost missed this good news. Quickly replying, he continued to smile.

“That was Donna.” Henry beamed placing his phone back on the stand. “We have the house.”

“What?”

Not even a month ago they had agreed that London was lovely, but what they really needed was a place to unwind. A permanent residence where Ivan and Kal could run wild and not worry about neighbours or limited space. Somewhere with room inside and out. They'd found a charming farm house, enough room for an office, a spare bedroom, and of course a game room. The gardens were maintained and unlike any garden Nell had seen before – she was ready to offer listing price on the spot, until logic set in.

Ivan and Kal had gone along to see the potential new dwelling the last time Henry and Nell had gone, both of them had seemed happy enough with the choice. Ivan had been talking for weeks, about the things he could do in a place like that. There had been four potential places and the third one had been it. The second they had walked in, they'd fell in love.

They would keep the current house, allowing them to be in London whenever they pleased, as Nell had made the official decision to keep and continue renting out her house.

“We have a few things to tie up, before we can move in of course, but we now own a country home.” Henry repeated the news. “We'll have to set up a date to go and finalize things, but it's been agreed upon.”

“This is fantastic! Oh, our first party can be an engagement party.” Nell beamed, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“You're serious about that?” Cautiously Henry tip toed around the words. In the past such a notion would have left him brokenhearted.

“I wouldn't have asked you to marry me, if I wasn't.” Nell smirked.

“The phrase we should get married, while catching up on Younger isn't exactly asking me to marry you.” Henry rolled his eyes, Nell stuck out her tongue. “Although, I didn't say no. So...”

It was a spur of the moment. In the moment and now, the morning after, it felt right. She had casually thrown out the idea, ignoring Liza and Kelsey having their millionth catastrophe, grabbing Henry's attention enough that he had reacted with a laugh. When he'd asked if she were serious, Nell had shrugged and told him that it certainly wasn't a joke.

Why shouldn't they get married?

If he declined, she would understand, so long as they agreed to remain together. You didn't need a piece of paper and some rings to prove you loved somebody, but it would still be nice. In an old fashioned way.

“So? I am assuming that means yes. Yes, you will marry me.” Giggling, Nell leaned into him, her fingers dancing across his chest. Small wisps of hair tickling under her fingers. “Do you not want to marry me?”

“I never said that,” Henry shook his head, watching her through hooded eyes. “I would thoroughly enjoy marrying you.”

“Good, because I think I would enjoy it, too.”

“You really want to get married?” Extending his arm, inviting Nell to snuggle in, Henry kissed the top of her head when she laid against his shoulder.

“I do. But, we don't have to discuss this right now. I know it's probably not how you imagined the proposal going, I need to work on timing.” She shrugged tilting her head to look at him. “Henry William Dalgliesh Cav-...”

A banging on the door, as the knob rattled, caused Nell to pause. Damn it. Henry laughed, his body shook and he did little to hide his amusement despite Nell's annoyance.

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan called from the other side of the door. “Dad? Dad!”

“What?” Henry called back, shaking his head at their son.

“Kal and I were wondering when we could go to the park?”

“After lunch.” Nell called through the door. Nudging Henry, she gestured to the door. “Why not let them in, if not he's going to stand out there and yell.”

“Fine, but only because it's after 10.” Henry kissed the top of her head, stretching and getting out of bed. Nell watched him pull on a pair of shorts, every muscle in his body moving in unison. Unlocking the door, he stood with it open a crack, looking into the hall at Ivan and Kal. Watching him intently, Kal yipped and Ivan narrowed his gaze. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

“I'm hungry. I've already had a bowl of cereal, but I want something else. Kal ate, but I think he's hungry too. Are you going to stay in bed all day?”

“If we do?”

“I'm going to call Granny and tell her. It's late and you should be up, be productive and not a lazy bones.” Ivan chastised.

Behind the door Nell laughed. Tying her dressing gown, she shook her head, watching Henry deal with the lecture. Resting her head against Henry's back, she peek around him to see Ivan and Kal in the hall.

“Mum, stop kissing dad and come make my something to eat. I'm starving.”

“I doubt you are starving, wild boy, besides you were told that we were sleeping in. It's not like we ever get to do it.” Nell rolled her eyes.

“Run along downstairs, well be down in a moment.”  Leaving Ivan and Kal with their instructions, Henry gently shut the door on the pair. Parental life had given Henry a new appreciation for Nell and all that she'd done over the years and was continuing to do.

Dressing gown on the end of the bed, Nell traded it in for her favourite shorts and a well loved tshirt. Ready to semi face the day, she ran her fingers through her hair and watched Henry with amusement.

“Are you sure this is what you want? A lifetime of demands and dictatorship?” Nell teased, rubbing Henry's arm.

“We're in it now. May as well stick around, see how it all plays out.” He kissed her forehead, wrapping his arm around her in a gentle squeeze. “Besides, he'll be gone soon. Only a few more years and we can overthrow him.”

“Ah, yes.” Nell nodded in playful agreement. “I forgot, boarding school. You know, you English may be on to something with that.”

“We're smarter than the average bear.” Henry shrugged. “In the meantime, shall we go feed the beasts? Take them to the park and then tell them our good news?”

“Lovely idea, shall we?”  

To think merely a year ago, they were living separate lives. Had someone told Henry, when he'd arrived in Dublin to visit Ivan, they would be talking about marriage and buying a quaint place in the country – he would have laughed in their face. Nell sighed, rubbing her eyes, feet hitting the last step. Surveying the house, she was satisfied that Ivan and Kal hadn't made too much of a mess. Eventually they would have more space, allowing them to run wild whenever they felt the need.

“What's on your mind?” Henry rested his chin on the top of her head, bumping into her as she'd stopped.

“How fortunate we are. It's silly, but I'm glad that you came to visit the wild boy last summer.” She shrugged, waiting for Ivan to realize his parents were downstairs. “Had he came here...”

“You would have been learning to speak Danish?” Henry laughed lightly, wincing when Nell turned and smacked him in the chest. A little harder than she'd intended.

“Alex is a sweet guy, I won't deny that.” Through the grape vine and instagram, she knew that he'd been seeing someone and was insanely happy. She didn't wish him ill, in fact quite the opposite. Alex was a fantastic person, who deserved everything good in life.  “But, I'm not sorry things worked the way they did.” Nell shrugged, gently rubbing the spot she'd smacked. “I am sorry it took me so fucking long.”

“Hey, no.” Shaking his head, Henry lifted her hands in his. Kissing the back of her hands, he smiled. “It doesn't matter, because that was then. This is now. From now on, we go forward.”

“I like that,” melting into his smile, Nell felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. “From now on...”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Cutting in, Ivan slowly drug his feet across the floor, a frown on his face while he rubbed his belly. “I'm hungry. Can you make pancakes?”

“Can you stop and let your father and I speak, for two seconds?”

“You weren't talking, you were probably kissing again.” He made a disgusted face, stalking off to the kitchen.

Since his mother had moved in full time, the only thing his parents wanted to do was kiss, and whisper things that made each other laugh. Rolling his eyes, Ivan called for Kal, at least he still had one buddy. Adults.

“Shall we feed them, before he decides to call in reinforcement?” Henry chuckled, taking Nell's hand and walking to the kitchen.

“I'm not scared of your mother.” Nell laughed, nudging Henry with her hip.

“Really? I am.” Barking a laugh, Henry snorted. “You're a brave lady, Janelle Stewart.”

“Am I?”

“Absolutely, the bravest. Even better is that you're my brave lady.”

“Okay, alright. I see where this is going. Grab me a bowl, you can flirt with me later.” She winked, going through the cupboard to find the ingredients for Ivan's pancakes. “And go put on a shirt, if you're going to help me cook. Otherwise I get distracted.”

Teasingly mocking her, Henry handed over the ceramic bowl, placing a kiss on her cheek before disappearing to find the required shirt. On his way to find the rest of his clothing, he was temporarily distracted by Ivan and Kal. Watching from around the corner, Nell shook her head and laughed, Ivan was standing on the arm of the couch climbing onto Henry's back. Chattering about his morning with Kal and the things they did, before waking his parents.

Chaos was a constant, though Nell didn't mind. It was what made life interesting, the laughter and shouting would likely piss off a neighbour or two, though Henry didn't seem to care and Ivan had no care in the world. Kal jumped at Henry's feet, yipping, and wagging his tail as he tried to rescue Ivan from his piggy back. Sneaking a photo or two, Nell watched father and son continue on with whatever game they were playing.

This would be one of the personal moments that, eventually, Henry would decide to share with the world. Nell couldn't blame him, Ivan was rather personable and he seemed to enjoy the attention. Who knew Ivan would  soak in the spot light so easily?

“Mum!” Ivan called between his fit of laughter. “Momma, I need help. Mum!”

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” Nell laughed, taking her time to saunter to the rescue. “What's going on in here, hmm?”

“I am trying to train this dragon, but he's too strong.”

“You attacked me, I am simply trying to fight off the troll.” Henry spoke with the most deadpan expression Nell had ever saw.  Raising his brow, he smirked backing up to the couch, Ivan taken off guard yelped when Henry shrugged hard dropping him on the cushions.

“Bad dragon!” Ivan wheezed laughing, trying to avoid Kal who was instantly there to lick his face and make sure he was okay. “Kal! No! Kal!”

“Right, now that I have defeated the Troll King and fed him to my furry beast, shall I grab the queen and we escape?” holding out his hand to Nell, winking, Henry glanced at Ivan still trying to assure Kal that he was fine.

“Is this the part where the queen kisses the dragon, releasing some sort of terrible curse, revealing that he was a handsome knight all along?”

Henry nodded, comically puckering his lips. “It is.”

“Ah!”

“No! No more kissing! You two are disgusting! No, mum stop. Dad, please.” Ivan pretended to gag for the millionth time this morning. Adults were so gross.

“Tis but a peck,” Henry declared.

Nell laughed. “Alright, serious now. Why don't you two get dressed, I will make breakfast, and then we can go out for the rest of the morning.”

“Fine, but no more kissing.” Ivan grumbled, allowing Henry to help him off the couch. Kal on their heels, Ivan asked his father if he wanted to race to the top of the stairs. Thundering up the stairs, Nell watched the two of them disappear at the top. Shouts and laughter trickling back down to meet her.

For a few seconds, Nell stood listening to Henry, Ivan, and Kal playing upstairs. Running around, shouting, and not at all doing what she'd asked. Not that it mattered. They were happy, all of them. Listening to Henry charge across the hall, Nell laughed when Ivan screeched like some sort of mythical creature, causing Kal to bark loudly.

The four of them, taking on the world, conquering whatever came along. Mythical or real. This was life now, this is what it should have been all along. Nell sighed, only forward from now on. She liked that. The past was that, left behind to be a memory all while new ones were made. Over head, Ivan's feet passed, he was running to his parents' bedroom. Kal was behind him, the big dog as excited as the boy he chased.

Henry had a way of instigating the two of them, riling them up, and taking great pleasure in the screaming and shouting that followed in the games they played. Nell smiled to herself, carefully measuring out the flour of Ivan's pancakes.

These mornings were the greatest. Hell, her life was the greatest.

This is how it was supposed to be.

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[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Wilford Warfstache - A Personification of Death

Inspired by my obsession with the Hades game, I found myself watching William’s story in the WKM series in a different light. An idea crossed my mind - what if he was somehow connected to Thanatos, the Greek personification of death? This is my attempt to come up with a tale about it, complete with some cheesiness that would work in the context of a myth.

TW  war (story discussion about William’s time in the war), death (discussed frequently), alcohol (mentioned in passing, but alludes briefly to using it to ‘help’)

Word Count: 4,242 (hence the much needed read-more. Enjoy the wall of text!)

-

In modern times, there are often tales of gods who parent children and abandon them to fend for themselves without the support of influential or important figures to help provide guidance for the young demi-god who is thrust into unfamiliar territory.

This isn’t a tale quite like that, for the ‘father’ never realised until it was too late to reach out. Otherwise, Thanatos would have been there all the way. Who can naturally embrace death when it becomes so normal in their life? But worse, how can one expect to approach a mother when she had never met him? Now, don’t take that the wrong way. Thanatos would never consider doing something immoral with any human. Thantao’s ‘parenthood’ is wholly indirect.

-

An ill man had died in his sleep, and Thanatos knew he was the one to collect the soul and bring it safely to the Underworld. The soul rose in the form of a pale blue wisp and drifted toward the figure cloaked in black in the search for comfort. At that, the door was opened by a young lady in the first trimester of pregnancy, the man’s sister. Though she could not see them, she locked eyes with Thanatos before he disappeared into smoke. However, a single black feather had come loose and fluttered to rest beside the man’s head, allowing it to become visible to the mortal eye. The lady, taking this as a sign that her brother was still with them even in death, kept the feather.

It was woven into a necklace she wore every day. It brought a sense of peace she didn’t understand, but could explain as her brother keeping her company like he promised. But it had a second effect. The magic imbued within the feather began affecting the baby she was carrying, giving him a divine connection that would otherwise never have existed.

When William J. Barnum was born, any onlooker would assume his only connection to death was simply through him being named after his deceased uncle. But to anyone who could sense the extraordinary, they would gather the clues and notice a pattern.

As a child, William was drawn to death. He would find abandoned, injured animals in gardens and parks and keep them company until they passed. He held a quiet curiosity about the topic, often asking about it when it appeared in childhood storybooks, questioning why adults were so keen to avoid talking about it. For him, it was something he found comfort in. When others were grieving, William was able to reassure them that no matter what, their loved one was okay. Like Thanatos, the one who gave him this mysterious connection to death, William’s energy was gentle like light ripples in the calm lake. He helped those that were dying accept their fate and face it feeling at ease, and provided a foundation for those left behind to feel comfort despite their grief. Death was no monster, he believed. It would never actively take lives for fun. Perhaps that was what drew him to Celine and Damien when they were children. Their family connection to witchcraft and communication with the dead (even if it was something neither twin touched on) was something that gave William a sense of familiarity, if one were to look beyond the surface. 

As a teenager, this interest in death stayed. He had asked around and had managed to secure an apprenticeship with a local undertaker when he finished school. He was a natural. His calm, methodical approach was grounding when those around him were hurting. His voice was always low and polite, and he even offered hugs to those who needed reassurance. The only thing that stopped him was the war. He hadn’t fully qualified, but he knew he needed to help his country and protect those he cared about. Though he was barely an adult, William enlisted and promised his friends that he would be the only one of the four to have direct involvement with the war.

When there, he was faced with more death than he had ever seen, and how it made his stomach turn. It was loud. Invasive. Impersonal. It drove him to work harder, do everything he could to keep the soldiers he fought with safe. He learned tactics, organised routines, found ways to help keep morale boosted, argued with superiors over their poor opinions in seeing troops as ‘disposable’. It was no surprise that he became one of the youngest Colonels in modern history. He showed wisdom beyond his ages, and a keen sense of observation. He could bring a sense of calm when his men were stressed with the constant reminders of death and pain, and some would later go on to write in diaries and memoirs how William was able to help badly injured soldiers embrace death and pass in a more peaceful state of mind than they might have otherwise. But with others, he would will them on, encourage them to fight and win, and they would.

One winter’s day, when there was an ‘up and over’ order given, William and his troops were keeping the enemies at bay and refusing to lose ground. Something caught his attention, or rather, someone. A man dressed in shining armour and wearing a helmet with a plume of red feathers raised a sword high into the air, which coincided with a sudden rise in violence and bloodthirsty behaviour from the soldiers. Only William seemed to be immune to this, instead briefly distracted by the unusual sight. The man in armour turned his head, and the pair locked eyes. Even with the distance between them, William could see the look of realisation on the stranger’s face before he disappeared into thin air.

In the weeks that followed, rumours began circulating of seeing a man walking along the barren wasteland between the warring trenches late at night. Those that claimed to see him described him as wearing a long black cloak that matched the large wings sprouting from his back. The man appeared to be searching for something, but didn’t seem to notice any onlookers. If the rumour was passed to others, they would discover a trail of red poppies in the area the cloaked figure was spotted, and sometimes a black feather would be found. Troops believed it was the Grim Reaper himself coming to inspect the damage when the dust settled, but William felt it was something more. Was he connected to the armoured soldier William saw? Not only that, the black feathers resembled the one that was woven into William’s necklace (but felt colder, somehow). Unfortunately, he never caught a glimpse of the supposed Grim Reaper.

---

The Colonel earned his reputation of becoming rather eccentric, and it was put under the simple explanation of “war”. But it was more than that. It was being surrounded by a type of death that was foreign to him. He was the unknowing son of the being associated with peaceful death. Despite his best efforts to keep some sort of calmness, the sheer chaos of it all was too much for him. The sudden, violent losses were heavy and weighed down on his heart. It was suffocating. He should have been able to do more. He should have been able to help them. He managed to get his men home with no one dying for the final six months of the war, but it wasn’t enough.

He tried to resume his apprenticeship after the war, but both he and the undertaker agreed he needed a break from death and to learn to appreciate life again. It was both a good and a bad solution. Good in that it helped him recover from whatever injuries - physical and emotional - he endured in his years away.

Bad in that it gave him too much time to think when he wasn’t in the barracks.

He grew up surrounded by death. Excluding the war, he had witnessed far more death than someone his age should have, when his fairly quiet and untroubled upbringing was taken into account. In a way, it almost followed him, or did he follow it? Was he cursed? Death brought about loss, and he had experienced a lot of that in his fairly short life.

All this only encouraged William to embrace the here and now. Life was short, why waste a moment of it? Life needed some madness, otherwise you would regret it when you found yourself lying on your deathbed. Beyond his childhood friends, he kept a distance from everyone else. If he was cursed with death because of the war, he would run the risk of someone dying because they got to know him.

Alcohol helped. For little periods of time, he was able to not think about whatever was plaguing him and enjoy life like he used to. But he had to be careful. William didn’t need to look far to see what a mess a man could become if he relied on alcohol as his only source of joy. No, that was eventually found in Celine… And we know how the story goes.

---

Mark died by William’s hand in a round of Russian Roulette, but the Colonel couldn’t find it in himself to care. The two who were once as close as brothers barely acknowledged the other without an argument breaking out. One of them would have died that night. There was regret in what was done, but William was never one to mourn openly like Damien did. Perhaps that was why they argued in the theatre. It had been years since they both knew someone who had died. Had Damien forgotten that William didn’t cry or openly mourn? Had William neglected to consider that a sudden death would shake the gentle mayor to his core? Words were snapped, and William made the decision to avoid Damien until it was all over.

As the day dragged on, William decided to join in on the ‘game’ that seemed to play out before him. Pulling the Mayor’s friend outside to give an indirect confession, firing his gun indoors to deliberately wind up the detective… Trusting Celine.

When Celine arrived, he didn’t know it would be the start of a chain reaction that resulted in him losing everything. Celine and Damien disappeared. No body, no sign of life. That was the first time since the war that he felt true heartbreak. He had promised to protect them both, and he failed. He didn’t care that the detective was shot, but the poor district attorney should never have been wrapped up in the mess. They never deserved such a horrid death.

It was why William was by their side all night. He spoke gently to them, hoping that they would be alright until he felt the pulse in their wrist die out and their hand freeze. They were the only truly innocent soul in all of this, even he knew that. But what could he do about it now? Everyone that stayed was dead, except for him. Once again, he was surrounded by death, and yet escaped. No matter what he did, the cold hand of the Grim Reaper never reached for him… Unless it was because he was hidden, cloaked under the protection of the black feather necklace. It held a feather found upon death. It might be hiding him from the death he might deserve. He unclipped it and carefully placed it around the attorney’s broken neck. Maybe it would give them guidance to a peaceful afterlife.

Imagine his horror when instead, they rose to their feet as morning broke.

This was no homo necrosis, nor the more intelligent variant homo sapien zombifius. They were alive, right before his eyes! They struggled to rise to their feet and looked around, confused as though they were merely hungover. Their head turned effortlessly to take in the surroundings. That neck was definitely injured, William had checked it! But as he watched, he found the attorney being someone he knew and a complete stranger at the same time, like their face didn’t entirely belong to them. He didn’t dwell on it. In panic, fear, desperation, William clung to the extreme idea that maybe, just maybe, Damien and Celine were still alive. He’d pretend it was a joke, he’d slap them on the back and congratulate them for giving him quite a fright and getting even after all the pranks he himself pulled over the years. Just let them be alive and okay!

No matter how hard he searched, no matter how loud he shouted, neither twin appeared, Never would they come out of hiding. But it was okay! William was okay! Let bygones be bygones. They could all still be friends. He’d forget about this elaborate death prank. 

...

It turned out that it wasn’t the only thing he forgot, but I’m sure you know about that already. This isn’t a story documenting the gradual descent to madness: the alias hopping, the loss of original identity; but rather one about death.

---

Perhaps now is a good time to reveal an important piece of information - death is represented by many beings, not just Thanatos. Many cultures depict an individual who bears the important task of guiding the living to an afterlife. These are all true, but there are more. In recent times, as the population globally has grown, so too has the demand. In America, where William grew up, there is what can be considered a ‘family’ of death. With guidance from Santa Muerte, younger figures from all walks of life with a common link with various aspects of death were found as humans and nurtured to allow their abilities to guide flourish in the Americas. It was only as they noticed a bottleneck of death in a city suburb in North America did they discover that they had a brother whose presence was so gentle, he slipped through the cracks. All it took was the discovery of a discarded necklace outside a derelict manor for Santa Muerte to recognise where the lost child of the family went, and which personification of death gave them their powers.

Thanatos was there within the hour. The moment the black feather necklace was placed in his hand, he could feel the comforting energy that was like his, but was so distinctly not. 

“His name was William,” Thanatos murmured, closing his eyes to let the energy tell him the story of the human who became a kin of death. “He was the personification of the acceptance of death. If war had not broken out earlier in the century, he would have lived a humble life as an undertaker who would bring comfort and calm to those dying.”

“ ‘Was’?” one of the younger deaths repeated in a whisper. Thanatos nodded.

“He died, in a way. Without guidance, the war made him think it was a curse that death followed him.” Some of the younger beings nodded in sympathy. They knew how it felt when they were alone. “Something happened and… he cracked. I need to go to him.”

The plan was simple. Thanatos would be accompanied by several younger entities, but only he would enter. The rest would reclaim the souls that were trapped inside. The facade of the building was a disco, but it could be a trap. If there was a bottleneck where souls of the deceased were unable to pass, it could only mean bad news. William could have turned into an angry, vengeful representation of death, using the souls to fuel his power and cause unknown chaos. For the safety of the humans living in the area, William needed to be dealt with, and his ‘father in death’ was the only one who might be able to calm him down. Thanatos took a slow breath to brace himself, let his wings briefly disappear, and entered the disco.

---

A hand shielded his eyes to allow them time to adjust to the brightness. Slowly, Thanatos lowered it as he examined his surroundings. There was no mania, no anger. It was precisely as it seemed to be - a disco. The mood was jovial as the crowds danced. They were completely lost in the music, and Thanatos had to wonder how long some of them had danced for. As he made his way through the crowd, he noticed a clock over the bar. It worked, but the minute hand never moved when the seconds hand completed its cycle. Were they caught in a solitary moment in time? It would explain how the dancers never stopped for a breather. The song reached the big finale and finished with a spectacle. Thanatos lifted a hand and waved it in the direction of the band. To his relief, the members exchanged looks and decided that yes, a break was needed. They put their instruments down and hopped off the stage. As they did, the dancers began to follow. Thanatos stepped back to try and find the one person who didn’t react to the mob mentality of walking out. Sure enough, he spotted William. In the far corner, he had been finishing a chat with a still-living man in a black leather jacket. Even from here, Thanatos could sense the death clinging on him. Unlike William, the other’s presence of death was latched on the man. He was a soul that was cursed with witnessing the deaths of loved ones over and over. What being decided to leave such a foul mark on that man or his family? It was not something Thanatos could help with, but maybe one of the younger beings might be able to help that poor, tormented soul.

The host of the party turned, blinking in confusion to see someone still there. He said something to the other man, who nodded and made his way out.

"Thought ya woulda gone outside with everyone else," he gestured to the entrance, hand holding a martini glass that wasn't there seconds earlier. Thanatos shook his head.

"I was actually hoping to talk to you. I found -"

"Y'know, I don't think I've seen ya before. New ta th' disco, eh? I'll never miss a chance ta talk ta someone new. Wilford Motherloving Warfstache, a pleasure ta meetcha!" A free hand was boldly offered to Thanatos. Confused, he shook it.

"Wait… Wilford? But I thought your name was -" Thanatos was interrupted again, this time by Wilford tutting and pressing a finger against the other's lips.

"Ya got talkin' ta that detective, yeah? He knows me by a lotta names. But I like Wilford the best." He took a sip from his glass, an act that was interrupted by Thanatos dangling the necklace in the air. "Where'd ya get that?"

"I found it on my way in. Does it belong to you?" Wilford nodded, only to shake his head. Then, after a moment, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"I… I wanna say I've never seen it, but I feel like I’ve been reunited with somethin' precious…" Slowly, Wilford reached out to take the necklace into his own hand. Thanatos noticed how recognition lit up Wilford's face the moment he touched it. 

"This is mine. Had it as long as I could remember. I think it was passed down ta me. Can't say fer sure, memories have been a bit funny fer me." His thumb gently brushed against the feather as his eyes lifted to the stranger. Something clicked, and he froze for several long seconds.

"This… this feather is yers, ain't it? Who are ya? What's going on?"

"I am Thanatos, one of the personifications of Death." A hand was placed on his chest to give a half-bow to Wilford. "And I believe you are one as well."

A silence fell on the pair. Wilford stared blankly at his drink, swirling it around for several seconds.

"Someone spiked my drink," he eventually grumbled, putting the glass on the stage. "I'm hearin' things. Death isn't real."

"It's as real as the necklace you hold."

"Ya don't understand. Of course ya don't. People don't stay dead. They get knocked out fer a while an' then they wake again." He raised the necklace to eye level, gears slowly turning in his foggy mind. "I've seen people die an' get right back up after a few hours. I've spoken ta people who oughta be dead. I've shot people, an' they come back ta find me, like Abe!" All the while, Thanatos was silent. It might have sounded like the ramblings of a madman to deny such a certainty exists, but every word was grounded with experience, with personal fact. "I'm sure yer tryin' ta be nice but… I don't believe in death. Not anymore."

"Then how did you know the feather was mine?"

"I can see yer wings."

"My wings are currently invisible to all but those who are Death."

"Bullshit."

"I've never been here before, so why did no one else stop to ask me about my wings?"

"Ya really think that's gonna bother anyone?"

"I was caught in the middle of a crowd packed together, and not one complained about wings being in the way." Thanatos rolled his shoulders, allowing the black wings spread to their full span before folding in neatly. "Even like this, they would be in the way of a crowd."

"But -"

"Wilford." Thanatos cut through whatever ramble Wilford attempted to start. "How long have you kept these people here for?" Wilford's eyes widened, before his head lowered in guilt.

"They were sufferin' with their problems an’ their struggles. I brought 'em in here so they could be happy. None of 'em deserved this." Wilford gestured around them. "It ain't much, but here, they can be happy, they can have fun. Nothin' hurts here. What's wrong with that?" Thanatos sighed at the innocent question, muttering something about 'another Dionysus' under his breath.

"You might not believe in death… but they do. We aren't supposed to play with lives like they are toys. We help guide them to their afterlife."

"Whoa whoa, time out fer a sec!" Wilford make a 'T' with his hands. "What's all this 'we' talk? I'm just a guy who runs a disco."

"Like I said, you're a personification of Death, just like I am. You've lost your way."

"I think I'd remember bein' some sorta skeletal guy with a scythe, thanks very much." A pause. "Do I have a scythe? That'd be cool ta swing an'-"

"You don't have a scythe. Your role is to help others find death -"

"Which I don't believe in."

"- to help them accept it. That's what you used to do. Do you remember wanting to be an undertaker?" The question hung in the air for several seconds, allowing Thanatos to realise that Wilford wasn't kidding when he said his memory was poor. "You're a good man, Wilford. Have you helped someone who might have been, say, confused lately?"

Wilford turned his head to the entrance. "Abe." One word, one name.

"And what was wrong?"

"He… he was lost in a moment. Hunting me for so long for something I did… He thinks he knows everything, but it fell apart the moment I asked questions that went just below the surface." Lost in thought, his accent sharpened to something more dignified. "No one can survive a bullet to the chest. But he did. But the others -" With wide eyes, Wilford looked back at Thanatos. "They're dead. All of them. I only wanted to help them be happy and have fun. That's not wrong, is it? Am I in trouble?"

"You're not in trouble. You didn't know. But now, they can be brought to the afterlife that suits their upbringing and beliefs - Wilford!" Thanatos hurried after Wilford, who had bolted to the entrance without warning.

-

"Abe!!" 

The cry echoed in the empty car lot. Wilford was alone. He slumped on the top step, pulling his knees to his chest like a child. Not even the cold hand of Thanatos stirred him.

"Abe… Was that the man you spoke to?" Thanatos asked. Wilford nodded into his knees. "I don't know where he is now, but he is still alive. Close your eyes and hold the necklace tight. Can you sense him?" There was a slight shuffle as Wilford followed the instructions. A noise that could have been a content sigh or a relieved sob escaped.

"He's okay…"

"He needs time to heal. I know your paths will cross again one day, but you can't stay here waiting for him. Let's bring you somewhere where you can get a warm drink and a change of clothes. What do you say?"

Wiford has always been one to go with the flow of whatever might be happening at the time. This wouldn't be any different. 

"So how does this work? Me bein' some sorta Death, but not believin' in death, an' even killin' some folks?" Thanatos gave a soft smile as he sat beside Wilford.

"Have you considered that you might be the side of death that gives the recently deceased extra time to process their own death before they are collected?"

"But can Death kill people?"

"No, no they shouldn't," Thanatos chuckled. “But we can work on that problem in time.”

A silence fell as the pair sat on the steps. There was a long road ahead of them. Thanatos knew that Wilford would never be ‘okay’, but Wilford wouldn’t be alone with this. Not anymore.

[fc5holidayexchange]

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC “Made For Me”

Nora Williams/John Seed. Nora finds her soulmate.

For @farcry5-obsessions

“I honestly had such a fun time writing this. I hope I was able to do Nora justice and I really hope you like it. <3”

Soulmates are a funny thing. There are all sorts of movies about people finding the person they were meant to be with and yet very rarely did it happen. It was hard to find someone with the exact same freckles as you. There were entire websites dedicated to matching distinct patterns together and still the number of people who actually found their other half was less than a million.

Nora had never understood how it all worked when she was little, if she was being honest she still didn’t totally understand it but at this point, she’d accepted it. Her skin reflected her soulmate’s: if she scraped her knee they got a scar; if they broke their nose she woke up with her’s a little crooked.

She wasn’t sure when the first scar had appeared, her mother was never specific but Nora always suspected some of the smaller ones had always been there. Silvery speckles decorated her palms, presumably from where her soulmate had fallen over and over again, causing the wounds to scar over.

If she compared pictures of herself through the years she could see the evolution of the markings across her body. Her nose had got a little crooked when she was 11, a paper-thin scar had appeared on her cheek when she was 8.

She never thought much about it at first, what the collection of injuries implied. It wasn’t until her stepsister had gasped when they’d been changing that she realized the scars were probably something wrong. A smattering of lashes were scattered across her back. It wasn’t too hard to figure out they were the scars from being beat with something like a belt or a whip, though her dad said belt seemed more plausible based on the pattern.

The first tattoo appeared when Nora was 15, a cross on her left wrist. She hadn’t noticed it at first, it hadn’t been until her 4th period when someone asked about it that she realized it was even there.

When she was 18, Nora got her own tattoo, a small black plane on her collar bone. She’d always liked watching planes fly by her house when she was little so it just felt right. The next day there were two more planes alongside it, the trio forming a “V” formation. It’d brought a smile to her face to see her soulmate adding on to what she’d started.

After that, the tattoos came in waves. She’d wake up to five new ones, then nothing for months. There were more planes over the years, lots more planes. She contributed her own occasionally, a crescent moon on one arm, the next year a dove. Her soulmate had added on to that one, surrounded the bird with a halo of leaves and a cherub reaching for it. Just like with the planes before, the addition warmed her heart, she saw it as an unspoken appreciation and solidarity.

They had been the biggest factor in the decision as to what she should major in, of course, there had been other factors but in the end, it came back to her soulmate. No one helped them when they were going through hell so she wanted to do her part and help someone else.

Two weeks before her graduation Nora had woken up to find her knuckles covered in scars. Some of them were barely visible but others stuck out, evidence towards the severity of the injuries she deduced. That same day she’d gotten a peacock feather tattooed on her arm. A symbol of protection, in hopes that her soulmate, whoever they were, might learn this and know that she cared. She couldn’t do much but if she could give them even a sliver of hope she would try.

• • • •

Nora woke up to a heavy throbbing behind her eyes, she didn’t dare open her eyes. Icy water lapped at the side her face, mud and silt soaked into her hair and clothes, covering her arms. The bliss in her blood made her limbs heavy and the world around her sound like her head was underwater, maybe it was. Someone shouted, the sound melding with the rest swirling around her head. The voices grew louder as the drugs from her mind cleared.

When she finally did open her eyes, it was to a dark sky, stars poking out from behind wisps of clouds. The air smelled like pine needles and rain; if it weren’t for the cultists prowling around the edge of her vision like vultures on a carcass she might even say it was peaceful.

She tried to lift her head but the head still spun a bit, her stomach doing flips when she even considered sitting up. A cultist crossed her vision, drawing her attention to another body on the ground near her, she was certain there would be more if she could just look around.

“This one?” The cultist asked, his voice reached her like he was a thousand feet underwater.

“No,” Another walked in front of Nora, his finger pointed at her. She suddenly realized the stars weren’t just in the sky but also swirling and twirling all around her. The man kept eye contact with her as he passed.

“Don’t seem very worthy.”

“It is not for us to judge.” A pause, the cultist above her swam in and out of focus. “Deliver her unto the waters. The Cleansing begins tonight.”

Nora’s eyes fell closed again as she was lifted up, her head slumping forward. The thought alone of trying to keep her head up was exhausting. It felt like a million tons of brick had made itself at home in her skull.

She must have blacked out, for when she came to again it was to muffled preaching and her lungs screaming for air. She opened her eyes to a rippling face above her holding her until ice-cold water that threatened to fill her lungs as it worked to numb her body. Now she wasn’t sure what were the effects of the leftover bliss pumping through her heart and what were side effects from the river’s attempt to freeze her.

“We must wash away our past. We must expose our sins.”

She’d been in harrowing situations before, this should be nothing new. She had been trained for situations like this, well maybe not this exactly. She was supposed to keep a level head, think through the situation rationally, use what she’s spent years learning to find a way to get herself out of this.

Instead, her mind shut itself down. Maybe it was a vain attempt to protect herself from the horror she was living. Perhaps she’d just been through too much too fast and the stress had finally broken her. Regardless, her mind was empty, her body taking over as panic filled her chest and she wailed, her voice lost before it reached the surface of the water.

“We must atone…”

The hands gripping her shoulders pulled her up, her knees threatening to buckle. Nora took a shaking step forward, the cultist holding her up.

“For only then may we stand in the light of God and walk through his Gate unto Eden.”

She looked up to see a pair of lights far off, maybe a car’s headlights, she wasn’t sure. A man, her brain was functioning well enough to recognize his voice as John Seed, stood feet from her. His body obscured one of the lights and the fuzzy, swaying of her vision made it look like a halo around his head.

She was walked forward slowly, her eyes never leaving him as he blessed the newly baptized and spoke passionately from the text in his hand. Each step felt easier until she was almost striding forward only stopping when she was in front of John. He closed his book, looking her in the eye with distrust and contention. She couldn’t say she blamed him, she’d been wrecking hell for the cult and he likely thought it was her fault this had all happened. If Joseph was to be believed it was all her fault.

Nora spared a second to looked down, her eyes catching on the word ‘sloth’ carved into his chest and crossed out. Her heart clenched and a hand involuntarily went to her own chest to cover her own marking, currently concealed by the shirt she had on.

“Not this one,” John spoke, his voice cold, and his arm darted out to stop the man leading her. He took a sure step forward as he handed off his book. His eyes dropped momentarily to glance at her hand before meeting her eyes again. “I’ll deal with her personally.”

“But—“ John cut whatever the man was going to say with a wave of his hand, the other wrapping around her arm and pulling her forwards towards the cars.

Nora was lifted into the backseat. John didn’t speak a word, silently waving off the people that offered to come with him.

“We’re fine. Finish up here. This one needs my personal attention.”

By the time John pulled the car to a stop again, Nora’s world had stopped spinning and the stars in her vision had gone away. John remained silent as he opened her car door and lead her into his ranch. Now that she wasn’t drugged to hell or on the verge of drowning and her brain decided to start working again she only felt confused.

“What am I doing here?” She questioned as the door clicked shut behind her. John’s back was to her and she heard him sigh before he turned back around.

“Those marks on your hand, your tattoos, did you get them yourself?”

“I— no. What’s it to you?” Her confusion turned into distrust, she tried to cover the hand in question with her other only to quickly realize she was putting those marks on display as well.

“Your soulmate’s?”

“Yes…?” Her heart fluttered with anxiety at the direction the conversation seemed to be going in.

Wordlessly, John nodded and reached up to unbutton his shirt. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he dropped the crisp blue material to the floor.

Her heart clenched at the sight, the same marks that hard disfigured and decorated her own skin were perfectly reflected on his. He took a deep breath and she watched the Eden’s Gate symbol on his stomach swell and the trio of planes below his collarbone rise as if they were flying. The scar on his ribs stretched and she didn’t hesitate to reach out, her hand connecting with warm skin and covering the old wound.

“Can I?” John asked after what felt like 10 minutes of silence. Nora nodded and pulled her own shirt over her head so she stood in front of him in her bra. He looked as amazed as she’d felt at the sight. His hand reached out and ran along her arm, thumb rubbing slow circles over the peacock feather there. The other came up to rest over the ‘sloth’ in her skin.

“I’ll be honest, I never expected to meet you.” His voice was quiet, his eyes filled with a cascade of emotions as he met hers once again.

“Neither did I, but here we are.” Nora smiled and for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last five minutes her heart clenched as he returned her smile.

“Here we are.” He repeated, unable to keep the joy from his voice. His composed mask slipped and he pulled her into a tight embrace. He clung to her like she might disappear at any moment and if she was being honest, Nora did the same.

When they finally broke apart enough to look up at each other, Nora raised a hand to cup his jaw. She ran her thumb against a long healed scar on his cheekbone and smiled at how unreal this all felt.

She didn’t wait a second longer, pushing herself up to capture his lips with her own. The two moved in perfect sync until they had to break away again to breathe, their foreheads pressed together.

“We’re soulmates,” John said aloud, a light giggle on the edge of his voice. Nora nodded, her forehead bumping his with each moment.

“We are.”

[ladyofstardust]

Love is a Glitter Cannon in an Empty Pool

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: T

Summary: In which Sarah gets her hands on a glitter cannon, owes 500 will o wisps a favour, and gives Jareth old cereal for his birthday. Everything goes exactly to plan.

Notes: Apartment-verse fic.  Set after the events of Carol of the Goblins.  I’m also posting them over at Ao3 in order if you’d prefer to read that way.

So true funny how it seems Always in time, but never in line for dreams Head over heels when toe to toe This is the sound of my soul

- True, Spandau Ballet

“Can you,” Sarah huffed, pushing on the extremely heavy iron base.  “Lift up the front just a littttttle? I just…want to get it into…the deep end.”

“Man, you are lucky I’m even letting you borrow this thing, let alone having me carry it into this pool.  It’s too heavy for that Sarah!” Laurel complained, letting the front of the cannon drop with a thud.

“No one will know!” She said, the base of the cannon unmoving against her shoulder.  “I promise we won’t break it.”

“You promise a lot of things for a woman trying to push a glitter cannon into an empty pool,” Laurel said appraising the situation.  “I’m half convinced you only picked this day because you knew I had that wedding to attend and cannot watch the absolute shitstorm this will be.”

“It won’t be a shitstorm, it’s going to be a glitter storm.” Sarah corrected, finally giving up the ghost on the glitter cannon, settling for its place in the shallow end.  “Also it’s his birthday, I didn’t pick it!”

This was…mostly true.  She knew Jareth had a birthday - everyone had a birthday!  But she didn’t know when it was. In fact, she was pretty sure he didn’t know either.  She’d bugged him and asked him enough, and every time he gave her a different date. Some of them weren’t even real dates as the 47th of Mercury wasn’t really something she could find on any of her calendars.  So the next time he threw out a (real) date she decided to run with it. His fault for not being more specific.

She’d been planning this for the last three months.  He was always doing these surprise romantic things for her.  It was easy enough for him to take her to Prague on a whim, or twirl her around skating on the frozen over bog.  Fine, points to King. But she had a friend who was an operations assistant for the local baseball team. The local baseball team that so happened to be in off-season.  That so happened to be in off-season with a currently unused glitter cannon. Then she found out her parents were going out of town, and their pool would be drained for the season, and the whole thing just started coming together.  

But Laurel couldn’t be there.  Sarah knew there was no way in hell she was getting unfettered access to that glitter cannon without Laurel insisting on attending.  Which in fairness, given that Sarah and Jareth had been a “thing” now for a while, Laurel was past irritated and solidly into suspicion.  She completely lucked out that her friend had to go to her brother’s wedding that weekend and couldn’t be there. This was her glittery shot for romance GK style and she was going all out.  

“Why does he like glitter so much anyways?” Laurel asked.  “It doesn’t even have a purpose.”

“Says the woman with the glitter cannon,” Sarah said with a smirk.  “And who even knows - maybe he was dropped on his head in the middle of studio 54 as an infant and the glitter invaded his cerebral cortex.  Or maybe David Bowie came to him in a dream and told him to be Glitter King henceforth. Or maybe he’s secretly a magpie and is just really into shiny things.  The possibilities are endless.”

“So, I mostly know you’re joking, but given some of the things you’ve told me about him in the past, I’m unwilling to rule anything out.”

“That’s the right call.  Last time I made an assumption about him I ended up flat on my back.  Well…actually that ended up going pretty well for me eyyyy” she said holding out her hand for a high five.

“Dude.”  Laurel deadpanned.

“Listen buddy, you were the one pushing us to start banging.  Now either give me a high five like a good friend or go inside and get the smoke machine.”

With a sigh, Laurel lifted her hand for the high five and Sarah forcefully returned it.

“Do you guys just spend all your time together having sex and high fiving about it after?”

“Pretty much!” Sarah grinned, running into the house to search for the aforementioned smoke machine.

“You’re gross!” Laurel called after her.

“Nope just happy!  Deal with it!” Sarah shouted behind her.  

Sarah started digging under the kitchen sink for the smoke machine.  Laurel had offered to lend hers, but Sarah actually had a few from a halloween party her parents threw a few years ago, and they wouldn’t notice if say, a goblin decided to turn it into a vomiting purple goop machine.  Sarah sighed thinking of her poor George Foreman grill. Forever ruined, sitting with the rest of the electronic graveyard in her apartment storage locker.

“My lady, where did you want the wisps?”  Sir Didymus asked from behind her, gesturing to a large glowing collection that someone might mistake for fireflies, but it was likely to be their last mistake.

“Just take them into the basement for the next half hour or so, I still have humans around.”

Sir Didymus nodded once and called to the will o’wisps to join him.  Sarah still had to pick up a few things for the party, Karen didn’t keep non-healthy snacks in the house, but Sarah knew Toby had a secret stash of Mars Bars and Fritos under his bed.  But she wouldn’t do him like that, he was already mad at her that she wouldn’t admit her boyfriend was the Goblin King. But there was no way in hell she was risking letting that slip in front of Karen or her dad, and twelve year old boys were never the pinnacle of discretion.  

Laurel promised to finish setting up the cannon before she left (but not before extorting a promise that she’d get photos of the end result), and Sir Didymus was busy coaching the wisps for their parts in the basement.  How he managed to get over 500 will o’ wisps to agree to this was a question for another time, but she was grateful he pulled it off. Sir Didymus loved his king, and would do anything he asked. But for Sarah he’d move worlds and she knew this.  Jareth knew it too, she suspected he encouraged her friend’s behaviour.

When Sarah returned after a very fruitful snack run, she noticed her friend had done her a solid and also set up the smoke machine as well.  Pool emptied out, and cannon and smoke firmly in place, Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon putting on her best taffeta and aqua-netted look, getting all the snacks in order and hooking up her old boombox before she declared the situation Ready for Party Time.  

She chose the pool as party central because she both wanted to contain the glitter, but didn’t want anyone peering over fences and happening to catch a glimpse of any magical mayhem.  The pool was both outside, and slightly hidden from view, as long as they stayed in the deep end. Plus it kinda looked like a middle school gymnasium with all the water gone and decorated with crepe paper.  This was exactly the look she was going for and Sarah was pleased.

“Didymus, are the wisps ready on my call?” She cried out to her friend, who was standing on the diving board, preparing to conduct the wisps like a maestro.

“Ready whenever you are my lady!”  

“Okay Didymus, cue the smoke machines!”  

The pool began to fill with a slightly stale smelling fog and Sarah hit play on the boombox.  

“Alright folks,” she said to no one in particular.  “I wish the King of the Goblins would come and party with me right now!”  

“What. In. Stars. ”  She heard him deadpan from across the pool.  

That was her cue.  Covering her ears, she let off the cannon and the large boom it made nearly knocked her over, but it began to rain glitter into the pool.  The will o wisps began dancing in an array of neon colours giving their best impression of the laser light show she’d shown them, and Spandau Ballet’s True echoed against the pool’s walls.  The hundred or so balloons she had managed to get the goblins to actually blow up, drifted along with the smoke and glitter and Sarah thought it had all come together rather perfectly.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARETH!”  She ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck kissing him.  

“I don’t…have a birthday?”  He said confused looking around at the scene.

“Of course you do, just because you don’t remember it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.  This was the date you gave me last time I asked, so I decided from henceforth, today is your birthday.  I don’t get enough opportunities to celebrate you, because despite my snarking you’re pretty freaking great.  Also you can’t call dibs on all grand romantic gestures, and I needed some points in the good girlfriend column.”

“You’ve already a good girlfriend…and I’m not sure I understand. Are those…will o wisps?  Pretending to be … lasers?”

“I’m frankly shocked you know what a laser is but yes.  Welcome to your 80s music dance party. Featuring all the trimmings.  I’ve got 80s themed snacks, 80s themed smoke, 80s themed will o wisps and the goblins are all wearing neon sweatbands, and have gotten really into Karen’s old Jane Fonda workout tapes, so they’ll be completely out of our hair.  

“You did all this for me?” He said looking around at the scene.  The glitter was still raining down into the pool and Sarah felt her stomach turn.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, maybe there was a reason he didn’t celebrate his birthday.

“I did,” she said nervously.  “Because I love you, like a lot.  So if you hate this I’ll stop it right now and we can just go inside and watch the goblins learn jazzercise.”

He broke into a grin and kissed the top of her head affectionately.  

“I love it.  You’re the best girlfriend in this world or any other, title to Ms. Sarah Williams, I’ll arrange for your sash and sceptre in the morning.  I’m completely surprised, but admittedly this does explain a few things.”

“Yeah…yeah…I kinda thought there might be leaks on this plan.” She wasn’t so optimistic to think that there was any way to keep roughly 30 goblins sworn to secrecy but she figured that Jareth would hear “laser light show” from goblins and assume…well she didn’t think he’d jump to surprise birthday party at least.

“So what now?” He asked, catching a piece of falling glitter on his palm.

“Now we slow dance like middle schoolers.” She said seriously, placing her hands on his shoulders.  He went to place his hands in the proper dance positions but she swatted them away. “I said middle school!  Hands on shoulders mister and they better not wander.”

“But it’s my birthday,” he whined.

“Only technically,” she said rolling her eyes.  “Besides we’re going to do this right. I am committed to the theme.”

They swayed quietly to the echoing synthesizers for a few minutes until the song changed.  At which point Jareth took his opportunity to pull her closer.

“Middle school’s over,” he said giving her a twirl.  “Though I notice your dancing has improved significantly.”

Sarah couldn’t hid her pleased smile.  “Yeah I’ve been watching some youtube videos.  Something about fifty goddamn years of dance is real intimidating and...I actually had fun at the last faerie ball and you know, I could be convinced to go again.”

Jareth’s grin could have split the night it was so wide.  “They’re much more enjoyable with you, I’d actually go to more of them if you were with me.”

“Do you want to go to more of them?  I’ll go to any of the ones I’m expected to be at as Official Goblin Girlfriend but honestly I’d rather spend my Saturday nights watching movies on the couch with you.  They’re fun on occasion though. Too much Fae time is bad for the brain.”

“This is true,” he agreed.  “But I think we should avoid Samhain for the next little while as it’s always…a bit much.”

“Yeah ok fair enough,” she said.  “Besides I already have our couple’s costume planned out.”

“Sarah I don’t dress up for Samhain it’s an important date Underground and - what why are you smiling like that?” He said stopping mid-sentence.  

“Because I was gonna let you go as Elton John…” she said with a grin.  “I could go as Princess Di and you could do your trick with the fire again.”

“I’d rather not,” he said, brow furrowing in concern.

“Oh would that be because it wasn’t a trick and instead it was just you lighting me on fire?” She said, sticking out her tongue.  “What about all that ‘no Sarah, I promise it was very safe, just magic I swear I didn’t accidentally throw a fireball inside’ talk hmm?”

“I’m going to remind you again that it is my birthday and I should not have to answer questions regarding highly flammable outerwear,” he said deftly avoiding her question.

“Yeah whatever,” she rolled her eyes.  “You still owe me a new scarf.”

“Do you not have a running invoice at this point?” He teased.  “I’m fairly certain I’m several thousand in debt by this point.”

“Once you start factoring in the Goblins it does start getting up there,” she said.  “But what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is a forfeited security deposit so one of us is going to have to do some fancy talking when it comes time for me to move out.”

“Move out?” He stopped dancing.  “For what possible reason? Where would you go?  Why do you feel the need to move?”

“Hey whoa,” she said pulling him toward the snack table.  “I’m not planning on moving anytime soon. I mean, I’ve thought about it of course.  My apartment was never designed to be the nexus of weirdness and goblin halfway house it seems to have grown into but it…kinda is now?  To be honest I’ve spent more time wondering if there’s any way you could expand it so we had more room for our friends and goblins without them encroaching into our bedroom.”

“I looked into it, while it was achievable it was unlikely to be reversible.  Presenting a bit of a challenge for the next lodger after you.”

“I thought you didn’t want me moving,” she said with an arched brow.  

“Let’s just say I had a few thoughts of my own, I just thought I might be consulted before making any decisions,” he trailed off.  

“And you will be, because a glitter cannon in an empty pool says that where you go I go,” she pointed to the cannon in the corner which was now sort of sadly puking out small puffs of glitter and giving her strange high school prom flashbacks.  

“I suppose I always assumed after you left your apartment it would be to move into the castle,” he said, pouring a glass of Tang.  

“It might be,” she said with a noncommittal shrug.  “I dunno, like I said, I wasn’t planning on moving out anytime soon.  But I mean, I think we both like having a place Aboveground to call our own. I know you have all those other properties under your name though, so I was more thinking that might be a good next step.  Moving into one of your houses together. But not today.”

“Why not today?” He asked, taking a sip of Tang.  The face he pulled was, in Sarah’s estimation, 100% worth pushing a glitter cannon into a pool for.  “What is this appalling drink?”

“Tang,” Sarah said, opting for a crystal Pepsi instead.  “And because last I checked the only one paying rent on my place was me.  I’m also the one who has the utilities in their name, and the internet though to be honest it might…actually be Hoggle on my cable package.  He loves HBO.

“I like being self-sufficient, this isn’t news,” she popped a Frito into her mouth.  “If I move into one of your guaranteed ridiculously over the top homes, it’s just a hop skip and a jump from there into kept woman territory.  I know I can keep my job, but God I hate my job. If I didn’t have to do it…I’m not sure I would.”

“Something tells me this has less to do with you than it does Linda,” Jareth replied carefully, waving away the Tang and producing something that smelled distinctly like Goblin Ale.

“Yeah well, that’s the thing isn’t it?  Mommy issues run deep and true, and unfortunately they don’t die with their human counterpart,” she said.  “But regardless, I’m not down to live in some brownstone downtown just yet.”

“I was more thinking Upper Nyack,” he said glancing around her parent’s expansive backyard.  “I’m feeling a bit sentimental about this town and I enjoy your parent’s company.”

“You’re just saying that because my Dad promised to take you to a Rod Stewart concert.  Which by the way, might actually kill me.  If I wasn’t so worried about what you two would talk about I’d be coming down with a terrible flu.”

“Nice try Sarah,” he laughed.  “What was it you said, ah yes, half the fun is seeing your face.”

“Ughhhh,” she whined, throwing her head back.  “I hate that you like dad rock.”

“Consider it my birthday gift precious,” he said, kissing her on the tip of her nose.  

“Yeah and what was all this then,” she said in mock indignation, gesturing around the fog and glitter laden pool.  

“A wonderful surprise,” he grinned.  “Though I still don’t quite understand how Sir Didymus managed to get the wisps involved.  They are not known for taking direction well.”

“Oh what won’t Didymus do for me,” she said waving him off.  “Honestly, I feel I could ask him for the moon and he’d start building a ladder.”

He’s not the only one,” Jareth replied.

“I think I proved I’d build a ladder for you too tonight,” she pointed out.  “A ladder made of Funyuns and Red Vines.”

“Is there anything on this table that isn’t decades past its expiration date, or comprised of pure sugared rubber?” He said, looking unhappily at the snack table.  

“Uh there might be,” Sarah said glancing at the table filled with technicolor treats.  “But I don’t know why you’d want to eat it. Corn syrup and aspartame is the backbone of this country.”

“Is this really what you ate during your childhood,” he said, gesturing to the bowl of Smurf Berry Crunch.  “I don’t even know what species this is supposed to be.”

“Yeah I actually…don’t know?” she said tilting her head to look at the box.  “Also there was only one girl smurf, Smurfette. Which raises a lot more questions.”

“Has this been in your step-mother’s cupboard this whole time?”

“Haha no way,” Sarah laughed shaking her head.  “Karen’s way too fastidious for that. No I got some of it off eBay, some of it from the basement where she never goes, but this was an eBay find.”

“You got me used cereal for my birthday?” He said, raising a single eyebrow at her.

“It’s not used, the box isn’t even open.” She said, grabbing the box.  “Also it’s got so much sugar in it there’s no way it can actually go bad.  It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine. Pretty sure.”

“Forgive me if you don’t fill me with confidence love,” he said, delicately taking the box out of her hands.  “But have you considered, there are food options that don’t carry such a caveat of ‘pretty sure’.”

“Goblin Ale is not one of those options,” she said pointing to the glass in his hand.

“Perhaps then the saying, better the devil you know,” he said, taking a long sip.

“You’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of that saying,” she said, sniffing his glass.  “Every time I smell or decide to do something stupid like taste the thing it’s different.”

“Funny you should mention that,” he said.  “The goblins don’t actually have a word for drink.  All drinks are called ale and all ale is a drink. They are synonyms to them.”

“Yeah stuff like that is the reason I have to hide my blender,” she said sighing and taking a sip of his drink.  It burned worse than the cheapest tequila. “It still tastes like death.”

“Well it’s an acquired taste,” he said rolling his eyes, and taking his drink back from her.  “Just like you.”

“Just like you,” she said, giving him a playful poke.  “Though I did try tonight. So if there’s something missing here that you’re looking for, you have my permission to magic it in.”

“No strings?” He said with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Please do not make me regret saying this,” she said, raking a hand down her face.  “Something nice maybe?”

“I have just the thing,” he winked.  

It took Sarah a second to realize what he’d done.  Then she noticed there wasn’t any music playing. The “lasers” were gone.  She also didn’t hear any of Sir Didymus’ shrieks about the wisps breaking formation.  

“Did you just bog everyone?!” She said, anxiously looking around the pool for any errant wisps.  

“I sent them home.” He said.  “Where they are more than welcome to continue celebrating my non-birthday.”

“Jareth I’m not going to have sex with you on the floor of my parent’s drained pool no matter how real your birthday is,” she said crossing her arms.

“While I won’t say the thought didn’t occur to me,” he said, leading her back towards the epicentre of the glitter cannon explosion.  “That’s not why. Well, it might be why later.”

“It’s not,” she said.

“Nevertheless!” He replied brightly.  “Look up Sarah.”

Sarah looked towards the sky and was surprised to see a full meteor shower happening all around them.  Down into her parent’s pool, the glitter cannon started spurting again, and Jareth restarted the music.

“Better than lasers?” He asked her with a smirk.

“Always gotta show me up huh?” She said grinning.  “Yeah that’ll do pig, that’ll do.”

“Pig?”  

“Babe,” she said giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Yes?”  

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a laugh. She wrapped her arms around him and looked back up towards the meteor lit sky.  “Happy Birthday Jareth, let’s watch these stars fall.”

[vlouisaugustus]

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[yuyuhakushofangirl11]

My Thoughts on the Canon Disney Princesses(thus far)

Snow White- While most would complain about Snow white being ‘Not Feminist Enough’ and ‘like the worst princess evar’, I think her personality is pleasant. Understanding that the Princess brand had to begin somewhere, Snow White if taken into the context of being made just before WWII as well as evoking a classical vibe from the original fairy tale before Disney’s mission was to make it their own, Snow White is harmless enough. 

Cinderella- Cinderella was my first ‘favorite’ princess as a small child and for good reason. She was for quite some time the gold standard of what a princess should be. Kind, intelligent, kept a positive attitude, and a hard worker. I’m sorry, but to those who say she just sat on her ass and didn’t do anything, she was made a slave to her step mother and sisters, and she wasn’t happy about it. But she did the best she could and survived it. Is she super empowering? Well that depends on the person. For a bullied 7 year old me? Oh hell yeah. 

Sleeping Beauty- Not much to say of her really. She’s barely present in her own movie. If anyone should bare the title of least empowering princess, it would be Aurora. SHE is the one that sits on her ass and doesn’t do anything aside from magically fall in love with her fiance. You know a character makes minimal impact if the remake couldn’t salvage her. 

Ariel- I have a great distaste for Ariel. Don’t get me wrong, the Little Mermaid was more than worth the title of first movie of the Disney Renaissance. My issue with her is that, while I understand her character is a sixteen year old princess, her actions make minimal sense, are selfish, and moreover not a good example for little girls. Seriously who sells their voice for a guy they met twice? If she was a little less ‘but daddy I love him!’ then maybe I could suffer her. 

Belle- Among my favorite female protagonists. As a bookworm in a rural town I related to her although I confess I didn’t complete the movie until I was in my college years. Beauty and the Beast earned their spot as the first animate movie nominated for an Oscar for good reason. I hear complaints about Belle being too perfect to which I say as with Snow White her purpose is to delight and entertain. Belle is more of an ideal like Snow White instead of a flawed character. And as for the whole Stockholm Syndrome thing? You do realize she wasn’t compliant and attempted to run away and only stayed after they reached an agreement to be kind to one another, right? And they fell in love over the course of implied months? Just checking. 

Pocahontas- I honestly have mixed emotions on her. On one hand me and my sister loved the movie growing up. The soundtrack was a Disney classic, the nature themes were amazing, and it was nice to see a non white Disney princess for a change. However, as an adult I realize now that not only was Pocahontas based on a real person, the events of which are uncomfortable to really think of making into a Disney movie. So while the character herself is meant to be good, I think in the future another Native American princess would be wonderful. But instead of bastardizing history, perhaps one of the many rich Native American legends and stories we have in our arsenal? Even do a search for the voice like in production of Moana? 

Jasmine- Much like my thoughts on Aurora, Jasmine didn’t make much of an impact on me. While I liked the adventure in Aladdin and Robin Williams(rest in peace) was spectacular as Genie, Jasmine as a character didn’t make much impact on me. Or rather neither did Aladdin. I was more focused on wanting to hang out with Carpet and Genie. I suppose it’s a matter of personal preference. 

Mulan- As a movie, I have an undying love for Mulan. Not only is this my little sister’s favorite princess, but the entire movie is amazing for little girls to feel strong. I read Mulan’s journey, aside from risking her own life for the sake of her father, was of an unorganized woman joining the military to make something of herself and kicking ass about it. Not only was there much needed cultural diversity, given my engrossing love of anime began shortly after, but it taught my sister and I, for the first time, women can be physically strong and intelligent. However, for both men and women as shown in the movie, it takes work and dedication. And I think it’s a worth while message. 

Tiana- The fact Princess and the Frog is so vastly underrated is criminal to me. Upon seeing the movie, I fell in LOVE with Tiana. I was in college at the time and I needed some motivation. And after seeing her struggle throughout the movie and have a never give up attitude throughout but still being a layered character who wasn’t fixated on finding her prince but fell in love anyway was refreshing. I feel as though if Disney made Princess and the Frog, as well as Tiana, CGI instead of hand drawn it would have gotten much more attention since Rapunzel, being the ‘Frozen’ of 2010 and being the First CGI princess during the decline of hand drawn animation in popularity really didn’t help. I love Tiana, and out of all the princesses she’s the only whom I have the most respect for. 

Rapunzel- I was extremely hesitant to watch Tangled at first since I considered myself a purist and didn’t want to acknowledge that hand drawn animation was in its dying days. However after watching it, I found it still held the spirit of the hand drawn animation I loved as a child. That being said, Rapunzel herself is a bright and chipper princess, I can see why she was so well liked. An artistic princess, that I can relate to, and the relationship with Flynn/Eugene as well as Mother Gothel was fascinating. I wouldn’t put her in my top three, but she’s somewhere in the middle. 

Merida- I dislike Merida just as much as I do Ariel, in completely equal measure. Why? Because they have the same mentality but in opposite extremes. While a tomboy princess was nice in concept, I felt throughout the movie that Merida was selfish. While Ariel wanted to marry someone she barely knew and abandon a kingdom and family who needed her, Merida refused to marry to ensure peace between the clans and essentially give up her mother to the witch’s powers, risking her life to get ‘her freedom’. It’s not that I wanted her to be all googly eyed and marry one of them or sacrifice herself, but some sense of duty would have been nice. And while it’s nice to see a mother/daughter relationship portrayed in an unfortunately more realistic way with an out of touch mother and a rebellion/angst fueled teenage daughter. I love the Scottish setting and I need an army of wisps like yesterday, but Merida to me is not brave. Not at all. 

Elsa(Queen)- To be clear Frozen is not on my ‘must watch’ list. Not only have I been driven mad with overplay and constant praise of the film, but I have to say it. I’m disappointed. When it was announced that the Snow Queen was going to be made into a Disney movie I was excited. And the concept art of her dressed as a regal ice queen with a gown lined in fur and a sophistication around her made me anticipate the release date. However, upon realizing the movie I was excited for turned out to be completely different, I wasn’t impressed with the results. Yes, Let it Go is catchy. Yes, it’s awesome to have a single queen in the line up. However, I can’t help but feel underwhelmed given the movie I had my heart set on. 

Anna- Annoying. That’s all that comes to mind when I think of this princess. Is she as abrasive as Ariel or Merida? No. However, unlike Elsa I had no anticipation of this character. Given that the circumstances of the strain between her and Elsa while failing to maintain a sense of caring between them, particularly on Anna’s end, fell flat I couldn’t sympathize with her. Not to mention the fact she looks uncomfortably like Rapunzel. Not only that, but she ACTS like her without the natural charm. She tries too hard to be quirky and cute, and while I understand the story between her and Hans is supposed to be subversive, I could not bring myself to sympathize with her. Personally, if the king and queen wanted to truly protect Anna, instead of keeping her locked away alone in a castle with her very dangerous sister, whom they didn’t handle wisely anyway, they should have sent her to boarding school and never bring her home. Why? That way the distance she feels between her and Elsa would make sense. Instead of craving to interact with others, she would yearn to finally reconnect with her sister after the death of their parents. Plus with all the time she spent in studies, she would still be socially awkward, but also keenly intelligent. Intelligent enough to match Elsa due to her training to become queen with actual power instead of just princess. In case Elsa’s power took control and Anna had to step in as queen. Wasted potential really. 

Moana- Upon hearing a Polynesian princess was in the works, I was completely giddy for months. One of my favorite female Disney characters has been Lilo, who is Polynesian, so having a fairy tale based in the Pacific islands was invigorating. And damn was I blown away. The culture was refreshing and exciting, Moana as a character wasn’t just a quirky caged bird oh no she was training to become a Chief, a leader of an entire island. And she took it in stride, at first sacrificing her inherited sense of adventure. This was the no prince princess I wanted from Disney, one with a warm personality but strength and a sense of duty and responsibility. Not to mention(spoilers) in the climax where she uses compassion, the same compassion for the little sea turtle when the ocean chose her, to return the heart to Te Fiti. An exciting and non violent climax , not to mention she learns a useful skill as a wayfinder/voyager. All in all definitely in my top five. (by the way I fully understand that her ‘Princess’ crown is pending but if she isn’t made a princess I will be PISSED) I do hope Disney makes more princesses, giving each a distinct personality and story that not only I can enjoy, but my daughters, cousins, and friends can enjoy too.