#it's all about taking lessons from history and feeling our way forward in accordance with principles of fundamental justice!

[ivettel]

at 2:00 in the morning on the day my first year of law school ended i finally. Finally. had my constitutional law big picture lightbulb moment

[pleasantanathema]

Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter Eight

Chapter 8: The Things We Leave Behind

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader [now with a dash of Erwin x Reader]

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of death, violence enemies to lovers, angst

Word Count: 4.7k

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Erwin,

           I don’t have much time, but it’s me—I’m alive. I’m safe. I don’t know why, but I am. They want something from me here, tried to pry into me for information about The Scouts, but not much else. I’ve given over as little as I can, but enough to keep me alive for now. But it’s strange here, even some of the warriors know something is going on below the surface of what we know. You can probably tell by the email that I’m using that I’ve found a strange semblance of refuge with Reiner. He’s the one who has given me the multitude of files I’ve attached this email. He claims most of this intel he gathered he never gave over to Marleyan officials. He also says he can be of help to Paradis, that Pieck and the others can too. I don’t know how much of that is true. To be fair, I don’t know what’s true at all anymore.

           There are files here on Zeke Yeager, apparently put together by warrior members who have become wary of him. Dig into them, figure out what you can. Don’t worry about me, I’ll find a way home. And, for the love of god, please sleep. I know how you get.

           Don’t respond to this email. No one knows I have sent it.

           Always.

           Erwin read the words for what felt like the thousandth time, the black lettering practically bleeding into the screen by this point. His heart had dropped when he sat down in his office this morning to find something sitting in his personal email folder, something branded with the last name of a traitor. His mind had raced into the darkest depths, assuming it was pictures of torture, a letter filled with malacious laughter, an autopsy report. But it was you, you were alive, you’d found a way to reach him.

           He had to keep his hand over his mouth as he grinned. You were so capable, so resourceful and rather ingenious. He’d had his doubts, but on the forefront of his mind, and his tongue, he’d said and knew you were alive.

           He’d stayed in his office with the door locked for hours in the morning as he poured over the information, brows twisting in both delight and disgust as he began to make sense of the documents crafted by the wary warriors. They were impressive, to say the least, and quite frightening.

           Every single urge inside of him was screaming to respond, even as he printed out the rather massive amount of documents you’d attached. He made copy after copy, blue eyes dancing like they were overcome with madness as familiar and unknown faces and information landed into the tray of the printer.

           He carefully separated the files by paperclips, prepping for them to be dispersed.

           You were so good. So brilliant. He’d have you home soon enough.

           The cumbersome stack of papers was too much for him to carry just under one arm. The one he’d lost was burning, itching like it should be able to wrap around the bundle.

           Erwin marched out of his office and into the bustling workspace, clearing his throat to the room.

           “Scouts! Emergency meeting in the conference hall immediately. Drop everything and meet me there.”

           Every head in the room snapped toward him, all chatter silencing. They all stared at him like he had three heads; the last time they’d had every scout in the same room was when he’d pronounced you missing nearly two weeks ago. He knew they were worried that this next announcement was of a death, of war.

           “Now!”

           The bustle picked up again immediately, every soldier, assistant, and intelligence officer scurrying to make it down the hall.

           “Springer,” Erwin caught the young man by the shoulder as he tried to brisk by him, “there’s a stack of papers in my office. Grab it and bring it with you.”

           Erwin continued in his stride toward the small auditorium, taking his known place down in front at the white boards. He could hear indiscriminate whispers behind his back as he took his time setting up a display. There was a small cork board off to the side of the room, littered with headshots of the Marleyan warriors. He cursed the face of the girl who took his arm as he pulled it to the front.

           “Miche,” he called over his shoulder, knowing the towering blonde would be nearby, “Come help me.”

           “Sure thing boss.”

           It didn’t take much time to direct, and before long he had all the warriors lined up on the large board in front of the room. He took his own time to place the picture of your face in the center, fingers brushing over the heavy red letters of Missing that were etched over your features.

           Levi saddled up next to him, never one to fall into the crowds.

           “Erwin, what is all this?”

           “I got an email from her this morning.”

           Levi didn’t have to ask. If there was ever a “her” in Erwin’s vocabulary, he meant you. You were all over his mind, more so than ever before.

           “Care to share? Or was it a love letter?”

           It was an unspoken truth that he’d become involved with you within the last year, and given his rather...emotional response to your disappearance, he was sure everyone was now well aware of your entanglement.

           “A love letter full of promising information.”

           “Tch, sounds about right. Did she give you all that?” Levi tilted his head toward Connie, who was struggling to keep the giant bundle of printed documents from sliding off the podium.

           “She did. It’s time to get to work.”

           Erwin didn’t even wait for the room to settle. There was no time to waste. He turned toward the confused, anxious crowd, took note of how they were all staring at him like lost children. There weren’t that many left after the attack on Shinganshina all those years ago, his scouts had either been killed off or left the ranks entirely. Recruitment had become more of an issue than it ever had been before as well. There was only a gathering of about thirty before him—the size of a small classroom, all piled into the front seats and awaiting instruction.

           “I received word from our missing captain this morning.”

           A shocked gasp filled the space, one of the younger girls—last name Blouse or Braus, he never could remember—literally jumping from her seat.

           “She’s alive?!”

           He held up his hand to calm her, to direct her to sit back down.

           “As far as I know, yes. She found a way to email me this morning to let me know of her safety, and also supply us with a vast amount of Marleyan intel. Now, we need to unpack what we know.”

           Erwin motioned to Springer again, wrist flicking toward the still unsteady mountain of papers.

           “Hand those out, they should be sectioned by paper clips so everyone can have a copy.”

           “But, Sir, I—” I just spent all that time wrestling with those papers, is what he knew he wanted to say. Springer did what he was told anyways, scratching at his short hair as he hurriedly began to divvy out the printed intel.

           “We’ll start with what we do know.” Erwin took a few long strides back toward the large board, feeling his empty shirt sleeve rustle by his side as he used his remaining arm to point toward the faces that had been lined up for him.

          “Of course, we’re all aware that former Scout members Braun, Leonhart, and Hoover were infiltrators sent by Marley to uncover our anti-Marleyan operations. They are members of the Warrior Unit run by this man,” he placed his index finger over the person of interest, “Zeke Yeager. And there are other members of the unit as well, Galliard, Finger, and Grice. There are also candidates for this elite military squad, Udo, Zofia, and the younger Grice and Braun. It is important to note that one of their former members, Marcel Galliard, was killed by none other than our missing captain in question.”

          “Yeah, yeah, we know all this!” Kirstein chimed in, “We don’t need the history lesson.”

          Erwin couldn’t help but grin.

          “It seems a history lesson is exactly what you need. In those files that were sent to me, you’ll learn that all these warrior members and candidates are, historically, from Eldian bloodlines.”

          “Eldians? You mean...like us?” Historia tilted her head, thumbing through the pages in her lap.

          “Yes. Now if you did pay attention in history class,” he narrowed his eyes at Jean, “you would remember that about four hundred years ago, there was a mass immigration of Eldians into Marley in the face of a mass famine here. However, due to Marley’s very strict borders and even stricter control on their governmental processes, it was never truly known to us what became of the Eldians that marched across their border. We knew they had been separated into internment camps, but it also seems that they have been weaponized and trained into being nearly the entirety of their military ranks. And this unit, The Warriors, are the premiere and elite squadron of the Marleyan military. And their motives toward Paradis have been largely unknown. Until now.”

          Erwin took a pause, letting all this information sink in before starting again.

          “Now, we know that Zeke Yeager has been working with our elite right below our noses with the hopes of changing the status quo for Eldians in Marley.”

          “Isn’t that a good thing?”

          Eren sat forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at all the faces on the board. It was no secret that Zeke Yeager was his long lost step-brother, sired by his father before he escaped the Marleyan border to find a better future in Paradis. As far as Erwin knew, the young man had no connections to his step-sibling, only saw him as an enemy force to be reckoned with.

          “Yes, and no. Because, according to the files you’ll find penned by one Pieck Finger, it seems his plan is quite unseemly.”

          “I don’t understand all this data and graph shit,” Miche admitted, eyebrows scrunched together as he licked his thumb to continue perusing the pages.

          Captain Hange stood then, making her way to the front without Erwin having to beckon her to.

          “These are...these are blood samples, DNA testing,” she mused, pencils stuck in her ponytail as she paced the floor before Erwin, “genome analysis, to be specific. Like they were looking for something specific in all these samples.”

          “And they were. Did you get my request this morning?”

          “Oh yes, of course, sir!” Hange scrambled back up to her seat, pulling out a manila envelope and then returning to hand it to him.

          Erwin motioned for Miche to tape these new documents on the board as well, one next to your photo, the other now next to a photo of Historia Reiss. Then Erwin picked up some pictures that would be unfamiliar to his scouts, placing them above your head.

          “These are the parents of our missing scout,” he called over his shoulder as he took an unfortunately slow time to place the photos, the lack of two hands starting to become quite bothersome. “They were Military Police members, killed in action about ten years ago. However, the information within the files on Yeager reveal that before Braun and the others infiltrated our ranks, there were other imposters sent on a reconnaissance mission within the MPs. It is cited that those infiltrators killed two people they were targeting, and I believe it to be them.”

          He could tell he was losing their focus, quite a few eyes glazed over as they tried to make sense of all the new pieces being added to the growing wall of puzzles. He felt like a madman stringing up red threads, but he was almost certain of his conclusions.

          “Why...why do they matter?” It was Armin who spoke this time, normally the quiet one during meetings who soaked up information like a little yellow sponge.

          “Historia,” Erwin called, “does the name Fritz mean anything to you?”

          The small girl sat to attention, blue eyes shining.

          “Of course, they’re another noble family, like mine. Err, or the were, before…”

          “Before they were killed about one hundred years ago. However, I’m inclined to believe that our missing scout’s mother was the last remaining of the Fritz line, having donned a new name for safety and falling into government positions to hopefully remain unnoticed.”

          He took in a deep breath, once again letting a pregnant pause settle into the heaviness of the room.

          “Which is why…” he waved his hand over the graphs next to your face and the photo of Historia on the board, “thismatters. It’s been a long standing belief that elites, that royalty and those that have been elected president in our country, are somehow different. Almost appointed by the gods themselves because of their special blood. You know, it’s the whole issue that many take up on the fact that they see our governmental system as more of a monarchy than a democracy. But the truth of the matter is, you nobles do have different blood and genes than the rest of us. These graphs show that here.”

          “Well that’s very elitist of you.” Levi cut in, standing with his arms crossed near the door.

          “Perhaps. But I had Hange do a genome map between Historia and…” he sucked on his tongue, still finding a bit of pain to say your name out loud, “...and her. My suspicions are correct. Based on the startlingly similar genetic patterns, our missing captain is of noble heritage, and I’m inclined to believe that Zeke Yeager knows this.”

          “And that’s important because it makes her more valuable,” Armin had his face in his hands, “does she...does she know this?”

          “As far as I know, no. No she does not.”

          “And you of all people would know.”

          Erwin wanted to snap back at the snide comment that came from Eren. If he wasn’t such a good soldier, Erwin would have him on fucking patrol duty after this.

          “Commander,” Armin looked sweaty, pale, “It says here that Yeager’s plan is to reinstate Eldian supremacy through uh… a means of genetic mutation. Do you know what that means?”

          “No, Arlert, I don’t. And I don’t know exactly what his plans are for our scout that’s being held hostage. Which is why you’re all here. From this point forward, every ounce of your time will be spent reviewing these documents and dissecting what it could all mean. As far as I can tell, Pieck Finger hasn’t quite connected all the dots yet either. So now it’s our job to do so.”

          All the heads in the room were nodding, everyone undoubtedly becoming antsy from all this news.

          Erwin knew there was more to say. He had debated printing out your email as well, but he wanted to keep the knowledge that Braun and some of the warriors were possibly willing to help stop whatever was happening to himself. He knew that if he even breathed the words that traitors were offering aid, too many would be against it, too many wouldn’t believe it. That would have to be something he pondered on his own.

          “Where do we begin, sir?”

          Mikasa sat up straight and on the edge of her seat, like she was ready to spring into action.

          “First, I think we need to dig deeper into just who was planning to meet with the Warrior Unit the day the captain was captured. We still don’t know who they were, or what was happening that warriors actually had to be present for it. Also…” he looked pointedly toward Levi, “we need to do more investigating on the day she was shot. We still don’t know who shot her, or why. It could have been an assassin looking to annihilate that Fritz bloodline.”

          Levi nodded, “On it.”

          “Everyone else, get to work. Get out the red tape and string if you need to, and all meeting rooms are now open to place questions and findings onto the boards. Nothing is useless; all knowledge about this situation is powerful and paramount. This could be the beginning of a nightmare, but perhaps we can stop it before it happens.”

          He watched everyone leave, all with hurried steps and papers shuffling within their hands. Hange stuck around behind him, rather bewitched by the DNA findings taped to the white board.

          A little voice cleared their throat next to him, making him look down. Historia stood before him, eyes downcast and her toes pointed together like she was nervous.

          “Commander… I…do you have a moment?”

          “Of course, what’s on your mind?”

          He watched her glance toward Hange, then toward the door, and back to him.

          “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee and speak alone?”

          “Yes,” she quickly breathed, happy that he picked up on the fact that whatever she had to say, it must need to stay quiet.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          It seemed that Historia’s nerves were still getting the better of her as she sat in front of his desk. Erwin had always been told he was rather imposing, so he hoped she wasn’t apprehensive to just be speaking with him alone. Her hands were clenched around a mug of coffee, knee bouncing in her seat.

          He’d poured himself a cup as well in the break room, having already drank it before even reaching his office. Your worries had been correct: he wasn’t sleeping much, and after what you’d sent him today, he didn’t know how you ever expected him to sleep again without knowing the truth of what was happening.

          “Commander…” she took the deepest breath, eyes closing for a moment, “do you...you don’t believe in myths, do you?”

          It was an odd question, one that had him pressing his lips together as he looked for an answer.

          “I suppose not. Though, it would also depend on the myth; some of them hold truth to them, as they were stories attempting to cope with the unknown.”

          “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she scoffed, looking everywhere in the room but at him.

          “Why? Are you here to give me a mythology lesson?”

          “Have you heard the one about Ymir? And the nine titans?”

          “That old tale?” He chuckled, remembering pictures in books he’d read as a child of towering beasts, “The one about how there used to be giant people, titans that roamed the lands before humanity came along?”

          Historia twisted her lips, looking down at the floor.

          “Yeah. That one. Did you ever know her full name?”

          “Her? As in Ymir? No, she was just the goddess Ymir in all the books, gods don’t normally have last names.”

          “Well, she did. Because she was human. Her last name was Fritz.”

          Fritz. Like your possible ancestors. Historia had earned his attention now. He sat up behind his desk, fist unknowingly clenched in his lap.

          “Commander, I don’t know if this is true, but when I was a little girl, my older sister, Freida, she used to tell me all these stories about titans and how we, nobility, are descendants of gods and of...of titans.”

          Erwin was trying to read her face, but the young woman just seemed full of fear, trepidation.

          “Historia, I’ve heard all the propaganda about the noble families being descendants from gods. And if I offended you with my remarks in the meeting then I apolo—”

          “No, no,” she cut him off, “no, that’s not what I meant. I know that my family...that the other nobles and elites have twisted all these myths to give themselves power, but what I’m saying is that it’s true. At least, I think it is. We have all these books back home in my estate that explain this true history about how people used to live in a world of titans thousands of years ago, that there were mindless titans, but also titans controlled by humans… humans that were titans. And I’m just saying, if this was true…”

          He was starting to put the pieces together now. The genetic mutation. The bloodlines. No wonder her thoughts had led her to this conclusion.

          “You’re worried Zeke Yeager believes in these old stories, that his plan is to bring back titans?” He posed it as a question, wanting her to finish her thoughts instead of him imposing on her.

          “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t know how, but if there was some way to do it, our missing captain, if she’s actually of royal blood, like me, he might want to…” she set down her cup of coffee, finally looking up at him with eyes that shone with wisdom he’d never acknowledged before, “Zeke might want to experiment on her. Or maybe reveal her heritage and try to bargain her back to the elites. I don’t know, I just didn’t want to say this in front of everyone because they might think I’m…”

          “Crazy?”

          “Yeah,” she huffed, “thanks.”

          “Thank you, Historia. You’ve given me something to think about.”

          “But you think I’m crazy.”

          He dared not to insult her outloud, but it was the side he was erring on.

          “I appreciate you being willing to tell me this. It seems I have some mythology to study up on. Actually, if you ever get the chance to get your hands on one of those books you spoke about, I would like to see it.”

          She stood then, leaving her coffee abandoned on his desk.

          “Of course, Commander.”

          He could tell her spirits were defeated as she left his office. But, nonetheless, he took the coffee she left behind as his own, settling back in to continue reading into the files you’d sent to him.

          But his mind couldn’t even register the words anymore. He was so tired, and now, knowing that you were indeed alive, he was filled with nothing but thoughts on how to get you home. It would be a suicide mission to try to send a squad into Marley to rescue you. He also knew that asking the elites, even the President, to act on his behalf would probably be met with a negative outcome since they were in connection to Zeke Yeager himself. It all seemed hopeless, but he knew you were working to get back as well. Between the two of you attempting to reach the same goal, he knew, eventually, he’d have you back again.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          His home was quite lonely without you.

          He felt the emptiness of not having you at the Scout Headquarters, but more so he felt it when he finally drug his tired body to the apartment he lived in across the city.

          It felt like a small cataclysm erupted whenever he opened his front door, all the emotions he kept at bay suddenly budding to the surface of his composure. Your shoes were still by the door, so small next to the ones he took off.

          Signs of you, of your absence, were everywhere. Your coat on the back of a chair. Your favorite books still spread open and marked to forgotten pages in the cozy chair in the living room. Wine only you liked still remained chilled in the fridge, your body wash and shampoo still lined the edges of his shower. He hadn’t even washed his sheets since you left, hadn’t dared to touch the side of the bed you slept on, like the mattress was still full of your ghost when he reached out for you at night.

          Even though you had your own apartment, he couldn’t remember a night he’d spent without you in the last few months. You’d become inseparable, seeking refuge in each other’s bodies against the cruelty this world had dealt you. You accepted him for who he was, even when he felt like half a man.

          There were still words he wanted to say to you; there were still echoes of your voice all around the apartment, your laughter ringing in the support beams, the sounds of your moans still staining his headboard.

           There were so many things you left behind, him included.

           Erwin poured himself a drink before settling into the couch, not even bothering to undress from his work clothes. He needed medicine for his mind, needed to try to drink and find clarity in the too many thoughts thumping in his head.

           You were noble. Of all fucking things.

           He took a very long sip at that realization, almost reveling in the burn the whiskey left behind in his mouth. He could still taste you on his tongue sometimes, still feel the pressure of your lips against his if he closed his eyes. All those times he thought he was kissing something divine, perhaps he was, if Historia Reiss had any merit to her little bedtime stories.

           The thought made him laugh. Titans. Mythological creatures. If there was one thing he knew, his enemies weren’t trying to bring things that never existed back to life. Historia was right about one thing though: you could be a powerful bargaining chip for Zeke. If the elites were holding out on something, all he had to do was dangle a pretty, royal plaything in front of their noses as bait.

           He pulled your email back up on his phone, eyes scanning over all the words you sent.

You’d found a strange semblance of refuge with Reiner. Of all people. Erwin could still remember how much the two of you would fight when you were both soldiers, how you were adamant to take on the hulking man yourself when it came to battle.

           But he also remembered how startlingly well the two of you worked together. It had been the two of you who had stopped Marcel Galliard, it had been Reiner who was the first to appear at the hospital steps when news of your potentially fatal injury had been called over the radio. The man had been panting, Bertholdt too, both of them having run as fast possible from their patrol circuit to check in on your status.

           Erwin always assumed it was because Reiner was sweet on you. Boys had always been taught to tease the girls they liked when they were younger, perhaps he’d just carried that on into adulthood, practically throwing stones at you to get your attention.

           Not that he could blame him. Erwin had always wanted your attention, but had kept himself restrained for professional reasons. But after Shinganshina, after Zeke showed the true force of the Warrior Unit as a warning, Erwin had quickly pulled you from the front lines. He claimed it was because your cleverness would be better served in intelligence work. Truth of the matter was that he wanted you safe. He wanted you working with him, in his sight, every day.

           And now you had completely slipped through his fingers.

           He’d cursed out loud when the scouts returned and revealed that you’d been captured. He even unfairly chewed out Jean for being reckless enough to get his vertical movement gear tangled with yours, but he knew the fault rested in his hands. You’d offered to go, and he’d let you.

           He let you go, and now he was reeling in the ash and smoke of the damage left behind.

           With a finished drink, he let his mind wander to that place he tried to keep it from. He was wondering where you were, wondering exactly what you were doing. Until tonight, he imagined you were left under lock and key, but now he knew you’d gotten yourself into some situation in order to access Reiner’s email. Perhaps he truly was helping you.

           Some of your words ran through his brain again: I don’t know what’s true at all anymore.

           Erwin honestly didn’t know what was true anymore either. In a matter of hours, he’d pieced together information the intelligence unit had been trying to uncover for years. He was steps closer to figuring out whatever truth there was Zeke Yeager’s madness. He was steps closer to keeping the whole country safe from a disaster its own elites had their fingers in.

           But he still felt so far away, so far away from you, from himself. He felt like he’d never actually fit the puzzle together, felt like he’d let you down.

          All he still knew was that he loved you, even if he never actually spoke the words to you. He loved you, and he had some kind of dying hope that you felt the same.

Next Chapter

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [02]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 3.5k a/n; i know it feels like a lot of bg and internal conflict but y/n!! our girl is struggling! she’s processing and is going through some times BUT things will spice up soon so thank you for all the love +notes, see you again thursday! 

[01] [02] [03]-> masterpost

The two most frequent contacts in your phone (you hope it’s your phone? It’s the same edition and everything) are Jimin and Taehyung. 

Jungkook (or not-Jungkook) high-tailed it out of there as soon as he deemed your reactions unfit for basic human society. He muttered that you were crazy and probably under something, and sped off in his motorcycle just like that. Like you were a stranger. 

It's not easy to ignore the aftermath of your heart after taking yet another rejection, but you're independent and you must stride forward in this strange situation. Taking a cautionary look around the area, you clutch your phone like a lifeline, tethering you together in this unfamiliar place. There's not many people around, but you spot a large library and a playground. Professionals are mulling from building to building, zombies in wrinkled suits and dripping iced coffees. Your phone displays an innocent 7:51, revealing how early it is. Toggling between the two friends in your contacts you take your chances and start with Jimin. The phone rings once, twice, before his dulcet voice chimes in your ear. 

“Babe?” he croons, and your heart drops at the sickly warm tone, “you can’t get enough of me after what we did last night?” 

You’re going to throw up. Scratch that, acid is already bubbling through your throat and you force yourself to tamp it down. There is no, no way in hell could you have hooked up with Park Jimin in your lifetime. 

Unless this is hell. 

“Jimin,” you steel your voice, hoping he can’t hear how absolutely mortified you are. You can picture this version of Park Jimin now, laying around in bed with crossed legs and casually enjoying how much you’re squirming on the other line, “I just need you to tell me where I live so we can move on with our lives.” 

He laughs, giggles bubbling like soft pink champagne. “Wow, I really must’ve fucked your brains out if you can’t even remember where you live.” God, in what life would Park Jimin be “fucking your brains out”? Maybe you should find a trashcan just in case you do puke on the sidewalk. “Y’know, you signed your lease with Taehyung a month ago? You just moved in last week?”

“T-Taehyung?” you stutter, trying to imagine the notion, “I live with Taehyung?” 

A beat passes, and you realize that just like you scared not-Jungkook away, you could be doing the same to Jimin. 

He says your name softly, gone the cocky tone you were initially bombarded with. “Are you okay? You could’ve waited for me to wake up, y’know. We had a lot to drink last night.” he mumbles, almost cutely if it weren’t for the fact the he was insinuating sex two seconds ago, “Did you eat?” 

“‘M fine,” you mumble, trying to chalk up your previous question with inhiberation. “Just loopy, I guess. I almost got hit by a motorbike, so my brain is probably just catching up.” 

“You got hit? Did you call a hospital?” great, now Jimin’s panicked. “Where are you? I’m gonna go get you. Drop your location, I’m leaving now!” 

“I’m fine!” you snip, and you feel bad for nearly screaming on the line. “I’m almost home, I’m just gonna lay in bed and sleep it off. I’ll call you later, okay?” 

You don’t bother hearing his response, and you hang up. You then start to furiously scroll Taehyung’s chat wall, noting that he’s on an academic trip with his students until next week and you have the apartment to yourself. After a good ten minutes of scrolling and reading conversations that you can’t recollect you finally catch the address to your shared apartment. 

The city is the same, fortunately. So are the bus stops, and you’re thankful that your bus pass has some fare money. Turns out you’re starting your journey at the University of Seoul. The bus routes are the same as well, and you manage to take a tour of your side of the city, noting the tiny differences in the town. 

For example, there’s no BigHit Entertainment in its usual spot. Instead it’s an additional practice  space for Cube Entertainment. 

There’s no fanfare to your city tour, and it almost feels like you’re just a normal woman taking a ride home. There’s still the same trees and squirrels, familiar odeng stands and ice cream shops. It feels like you’ve been cut and pasted into this world with no rhyme or reason, a fever dream. 

The bus circles around the usual route once more until you’re in front of your supposed home, only a twenty minute bus ride from where Jungkook almost ran you over. 

It’s a lot, and you realize on the drive over that you’re probably in deeper shit than you could ever imagine. You pull out your keys, and instead of seeing the ramen keychain Jungkook got you when he went to Tokyo Disney, instead it’s replaced by a university ID labeled Assistant Professor under your full name. 

You pin that new fact for later and focus on getting inside.

Your apartment is nice, you muse. Simple black and white furniture, but there’s a definitive home-ness to it. There’s a moss green afghan folded up on the couch, presumably made by the artist himself. You’re glad Taehyung’s appeal for the arts hasn’t been lost, as revealed by the frames on the walls detailing pictures of you and Taehyung’s families, and some of Jimin and Taehyung. 

Deeper into the apartment you find your room. You choke back a sob at the familiar bedsheets your parents bought you at Target, and you even notice some familiar clothing pieces folded haphazardly in the corner. Instead of your bed being filled with shameless BT21 PR however, your RJ and Mang are replaced with simple panda and cat plushies. 

Finally letting your tears fall, you sob loudly into your pillows, hugging and grappling at anything to comfort you. You feel achy and tired, as if your heart has fallen out of your body and nothing can fill the void. As much as your bed sheets feel the same, as genuine as those pictures are in your shared living room, this isn’t your home. 

•━━━━━━»••»💮💮💮«••«━━•

Between your bouts of crying and forcing yourself to stomach cheap ramen, you find out a couple of things. 

You’re an assistant professor at Seoul University. At least this version of you is. A little part of you is pleased by this, you have always wanted to teach at the university level before settling with BigHit. To your chagrin however, you’re not a language professor. 

To your horror, you’re a pre-medical student teaching two “History of Neuroscience” classes. It’s only two classes because according to your Google calendar, you’re also balancing the completion of  your final thesis on muscular dystropathy among low-income neighborhoods. 

Dear god, if your parents ever found out you could’ve been a doctor in another life, they’d be surely choking on their own spit. In this world, you probably weren’t lazy and wholly capable of achieving the impossible. 

You don’t know why you spend the next two hours sending emails to your students about cancelling the next week of classes. Fortunately all your lessons are neatly packaged in your drive, and you send out an email with said lessons citing your mental health and how you’ll resume direct instruction the following week. 

From time to time, your eyes can’t help but travel to the frames and polaroids that decorate your walls. Some of the memories are vaguely similar, a house in the suburbs, an annoying cousin who can’t stop and won’t stop pulling at your pigtails, a movie night with unlimited pizza and breadsticks. 

Some of them are far and beyond your state of recognition. Jimin and you playing hopscotch by the river, Taehyung stuffing his face with fried potato skins in a cheap hole-in-the-wall, you winning the blue ribbon at your high school’s science fair. 

You could very well walk out of this life and just focus on going back home, but something tells you that you need to continue on with this life, at least for now. 

It feels too real to be a dream. When you tug at your hair tie, it’s painful when it snaps across your wrist. Your skin blooms with color upon impact. Could you die in this world? If Jungkook had not skidded in time, would you have survived a motorcycle accident? 

Three days pass like that. You’re contemplating, absorbing information. In-between pints of ice cream and crying your ducts out, you’re drawing conclusions. Could you be in a coma? A very realistic, painful coma? But Jimin and Taehyung are still sending you texts and the day turns to night as painfully slow as it always has. A coma can’t fake a forty person class, all of them vying for your attention through various emails and Zoom calls. It can’t be it. 

And as you rummage through your drawers, check every bit of social media and even your yearbook photos, you also confirm that Jeon Jungkook has no place in this version of your life. It saddens you greatly, and reminds you eerily about the heated conversation you had before all of this. The Jungkook from days ago, the one who looked terrified when you tried to touch him, only met you through happenstance. 

By day four, you get a phone call. There’s no picture next to the contact, only named Biggie Mentor. After a few rings, you finally get the courage to answer the call. 

A deep timbre seeps its way through the line, and you almost whine at how much you missed him. “y/n,” Namjoon says, but he doesn’t sound happy, “tell me why our students said you cancelled all of your classes this week due to mental health?” 

If Namjoon’s your mentor, that means you’re probably in deep shit for cancelling all your classes without his consent. 

“Uh, exactly that,” you say, and it hurts how much you have to strain your voice, trying not to pour any type of affection into this version of Namjoon. You’ve always had a soft spot for his gummy smile. “I’m sorry for not telling you beforehand. Something really traumatic just happened and,” you choke back a sob, trying to cover the microphone, “and I really needed some space.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” his voice is like melted honey, and you close your eyes and picture yourself back at BigHit, Namjoon’s happy smile whenever he tries to cheer you up. It only makes you even more upset, and your mind is all shadowed and filled with fuzzies as you attempt to picture Namjoon as your boss, “I was just shocked, that’s all. Is everything alright?” 

“No,” you reply truthfully, “and I don’t know if it will be.” 

There’s a terse silence, both your breaths hanging on the line with no move to continue the conversation. If your personality here is similar to your true world, you would understand why Namjoon would have a hard time formulating a reply. You don’t even know how close you are with him here. What remains is that you’re the type to keep your secrets to yourself, and if they truly felt hindering, you’d tell somebody. Not to say you’re the suffer in silence type of person, but you weren’t one to immediately dump your feelings on someone. 

Finally, Namjoon musters a reply, “I have a break at two. Why don’t you swing by our usual lunch spot and we can talk? Their sandwiches always cheer you up. ”

“Joonie,” your voice cracks, and you shake your head despite the fact that he can’t see you. A slip of the nickname comes out before you can help it, and you hope this Namjoon is fond of the manner. “I don’t know where that is. Or what our ‘usual’ spot is. I don’t know what sandwiches you’re talking about either.” 

“Okay,” and you relax at the calmness in his tone, “I’ll swing by after my 5PM then. Set the table for us, yeah?” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Namjoon smells of dry-erase marker and antiseptic. 

He’s bounding into your apartment like it’s his own home, carrying two paper bags and a stack of leather bound books. The items fly across your coffee table, and you two work together to organize both your dinner and the books. Namjoon looks like a textbook nerd, wearing shades of burgundy and burnt orange as he breaks into your front door. Gone are the boots and sleek outfits that trim his figure, and you can’t help but go a little anti-starstruck at how normal this moment is.

But what remains is the bumbly stance as he makes his way through your tiny space, long limbs and all flailing to help you place his work in a safe space. The curve of his nose and dimples so deep you could fill a lake in them, you can’t help but muster a shy smile as he takes notice that you’re staring at him a little too much for comfort.

The two of you eat in relative silence, and you gratefully accept the bag he pushes in your direction. To your surprise the sandwich inside is a favorite combination of yours, and you wonder if this restaurant exists in your world. 

Your world. 

“Namjoon,” you place your sandwich down, despite the fact that your stomach is protesting for you to finish the first real meal you’ve had in days, “you know that movie, Avengers?” 

Namjoon’s face is puffed with bread, and you hand him a water bottle to chug it down. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “Marvel isn’t a popular franchise, so even if I had I wouldn’t remember.” 

“Marvel isn’t popular—” what kind of fucked up world is this? Your Jungkook would have a field day if he was in your shoes. “Anyway. There’s a concept from Marvel that there’s multiple Earths. Like you can create a rip in space and land yourself in another dimension if you’re not too careful. Do you think it’s possible?” 

Your tall mentor pushes his charcoal hair back, exasperated. “Is this why you’re taking off? Because you believe in some silly comic book series?” 

You feel your heart cracking, desperately trying to keep itself together. In your haste you grip Namjoon’s arm, desperate. “Please, just hear me out.” you warble, “a few days ago I was out drinking with a friend. Next thing I know, I’m in another world where I run into a boy. That boy is my friend, but he says he doesn’t recognize me! But I don’t recognize this life. Namjoon I can’t even imagine you wanting to be a doctor!” 

Namjoon is looking at you funny, and you know he’s really trying to believe you. Instead of the reassuring words you hope for, he instead says, “this isn’t even pseudoscience, y/n. This is supernatural! How could you possibly think you’re from another dimension? I just saw you last week and everything was fine!” 

“I saw you last week too!” you exclaim, clutching your chest, “and you cried again for the umpteenth time because you lost another pair of custom Airpods.” 

A pause. “That does sound like me.” 

Hope blooms in your stomach. “Doesn’t it?”

“Well, in this supposed other life. What is my profession?”

Your face falls. “Uh, you’re in a worldwide K-pop band. You’re making millions and producing beautiful music.” 

That sounded way better in your head. Out loud it sounded absolutely bonkers. You don’t even blame Namjoon when he bursts out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. You let him, sinking further into your seat and hugging your knees. You really hoped Namjoon would’ve come through for you. 

However you’re not laughing along with him, and he immediately stops at your teary expression. He pushes himself over to you with his long legs, quickly moving to prevent yourself from tucking into your shell. He sees how small your form becomes and he reaches over to place a hand over your hair. “You’re really upset over this, aren’t you?” he questions aloud, and he can’t piece it together, “did you hit your head or something?” 

Defeated, you explain, “I may have gotten hit by a motorcycle the other day.” 

“What?” he squeezes your shoulder, “well, that explains a lot! What if you’re hallucinating? What if you have a concussion? You could be suffering from short-term memory loss!” 

You’re sure it’s none of those things, but you let him ramble. The explanation is clear-cut and so painfully normal that it’s the only conclusion that Namjoon will cling to. Your mentor insists you take a medical leave, and says he’ll take over your classes in the meantime. He gives you a number to call, explains there one of the best doctors for trauma and motor incidents. You don’t say anything to that, but you accept the number and lie when you say you’ll call them in the morning. Namjoon still treats you like a friend however, despite your fruitless confession, and you concede that his comfort is more than enough after such a rough week. 

•━━━━━━»••»💮💮💮«••«━━••

It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve contacted Jimin. 

Sure, Jimin’s contacted you. A couple flirty texts here, some low-key sexy selfies there. Usually, you’d eat that up like honey and butter. Now, there’s only one-word replies and half-hearted attempts at continuing a conversation. He loosens his tie, thankful he’s working out of the office today. He can look at his phone all he wants, and no one will judge him. 

Jimin finally looks up at the photographer his marketing company contracted, who’s still mulling over the contract. “We’re not trying to jip you, promise.” Jimin assures, and he almost laughs at the comical way the young man’s large eyes catch his concern. “You’ll get all that money, and then some if you need to work overtime. It’s a sweet gig.” 

“Yeah,” the young man nods, and grabs the pen to sign at the bottom. “Looking forward to working with you.” 

“Same to you, Mr. Jeon,” Jimin grins, meeting him halfway across the table, “I’ve seen your work, I’m sure the commercial will be beautiful.” 

“You can call me Jungkook,” the new employee flashes him a quick grin, taking his palm in his. Jimin tries not to twitch at this cute kid, who is both devastatingly handsome and cute at the same time. He’s a little jealous, a little attracted. 

“Great, because Mr. Park is my dad. Jimin’s fine.” 

It’s then that Jimin’s phone lights up, both pairs of eyes darting to the picture of you decorating the wallpaper. 

While it’s not a completely flattering picture (you’re asleep with your wire-rimmed glasses half-off and there’s drool dribbling down your chin.) However it’s definitely you, the person Jungkook nearly killed a couple days ago.

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry, and he lets go of Jimin’s hand like it’s fire. Jimin hardly notices, grabbing his phone in hope that you replied to his text. To his despair, it’s just Taehyung. He ruffles his hair in frustration, letting the slick ebony strands fall out of his hairstyle.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, shoving his phone in his blazer. 

“Everything alright?” Jungkook asks, trying to be polite. On the other hand, he’s rather curious about the girl from weeks ago, who still hasn’t left his mind. 

In the heat of the moment, Jungkook left the scene with you blubbering on the road. How wide your eyes were with recognition, and almost mother-like as you coddled him like someone to protect. He’s felt bad about it since, but he had an interview with Jimin’s boss and he couldn’t blow a job opportunity. It couldn’t be helped that your sad expression has been his midnight fixation when he can’t sleep or has a creative block. He should’ve at least called a cab to take you to the hospital or something, you were clearly not in the right mind. 

“Yeah, it’s just a friend.” Jimin forces a smile, not wanting to dump his baggage on the new employee. “She almost got hit by a motorcycle the other day,” Jungkook masks a wince, remembering the horror he felt when he saw you, just lying there across the street. “Ever since then, she just hasn’t been herself. I’m just worried. It’s like she’s seen a ghost or something.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook steals a glance at Jimin’s phone again, hoping to see your picture light up again. He does feel a little guilty pushing you off him and running away, but then again it was you that started being weird. 

How did you know him, and why were you so concerned for his well-being? Would he get fired if he asked Jimin about you? That would be the quickest job he ever got contracted for. Instead, Jungkook forces a smile and offers a neutral, “Well, I’m sure things will work out.” 

“Thanks, I hope so too.” 

Jungkook’s palms are sweaty, as if it’s a dark premonition that something will happen. With Jimin around supervising him, he has a feeling that if things don’t work out, things will happen regardless. 

Maybe he’ll understand why you were so concerned for a stranger’s well-being, and why you looked at him like that. 

Like someone in love. 

[shreddedleopard]

Suns, Moons and Songs.

My favourite. The soundtrack is littered with songs that allude to Historia and Levi’s part in the plot. I’ll just bring up some of the major ones.

Okay, first biggie - Zero Eclipse. 

This song is purposefully vague in a lot of places, in that a lot of the lyrics could fit to Ymir, and I believe the sentiment is genuine. Ymir was a huge part of Historia’s life before she left. However, there are a lot of similarities between her and Levi, which is handy for Yams. Same for the bond Erwin and Levi shared. Clever, clever.

The first verses could work for either on the whole, but the lines about jealousy and blades doubling and the use of kid absolutely reminds me of Ymir when she joins the survey corps with Historia.

When we get to the bridge, the first lines about never hearing the person sigh of ecstasy likely suggests that Ymir wanted to get to that point with Historia but they never did. And of course the chorus very much reflects Ymir’s speech to Historia about living a life she can be proud of, and not doing silly suicidal things to be the hero, like she did with Daz.

Okay our next verse is where it gets very interesting!

Every single line fits Levi perfectly. Seeing the fallen? It’s that image at Shiganshina of Erwin surrounded by their fallen comrades. Still we have that question, what will Levi do with those sacrifices? A recurring theme, but now we should have a pretty good idea of the answer. 

Next we have a direct reference to the Beast Titan - which conveniently also links perfectly to Historia’s childhood bullies - both threw stones to ‘make us go away.’ 

‘It was only the face of anger, and kindness, it lit my way’ - well this has soo many connotations. So firstly, Historia and the bullies. Because Frieda taught her to be a good, kind girl, Historia understands that the bullies were only acting out of anger, and kindness is the answer here. Hmm ... who else right about now in the story could do with realising anger and revenge won’t solve anything - but working together might, even if you’ve been pelted by stones at the hands of this person? It’s Levi and Zeke. And Historia’s influence on Levi - the idea of kindness lighting his way - will mean he makes the right decision. It’s also worth noting very briefly here, because I will explore this more later, that in the manga, we have that removed scene of Levi behaving aggressively towards Historia, although she later puts this aside. Originally, Isayama also wanted to parallel Levi with Historia’s childhood bullies, but he changed his mind for the anime. We’ll look at this more when we check out an interesting interview by Yams.

‘Ain’t no picnic to be abandoned’ - again, such a simple line, so many meanings. Historia and Levi’s childhood parallels are uncanny, and both were abandoned by parental figures in their youth which we see in Uprising had lasting impacts on them. So much so, they work together to open an orphanage, saving children from within the walls and even the underground.

‘It led us here, we had to share the pain.’ I mean, I’ve said this so many times, but how could they not end up bonding over all this!? But wait, there’s more. Shiganshina happens, and Levi looses Erwin. Historia has not so long ago lost Ymir, and we see how upset she is when she receives her letter. Remember that scene though where Levi arrives and she wipes away her tears? Yep. They were both abandoned again in a sense, and so, it only serves to push them closer together. They mourn for what have been pretty much their other halves since the start of the series, and they do it together. Yams is screaming at us to read between the lines for these two, while he drops just enough surface hints to keep the trail warm, so to speak. 

Okay the next lyrics ‘Now you are a part of me, I will defend and honour thee’ ... what do they remind you of? I get knight protecting Queen vibes. And this literally used to be the role of the Ackermans according to Kenny's grandpa - the sword and shield to the crown. Levi is virtually back in that role for Historia, and we come full circle after the years of persecution. 

NEXT. ‘Did you think that you could die a hero?’ Kenny tells Levi everyone is drunk on a dream in order to keep moving forwards. He asks Levi, what are you? A hero? Everyone expects Levi to go out fighting, taking out Zeke and finally fulfilling his vow to Erwin. But that's not the message of this story. We need to break the cycle of revenge and hate, remember? Kruger said so himself - love someone within the walls, it's the only way to stop this cursed history. Levi won’t choose revenge. He’ll give up on his dream to go out like a hero, because now he has something to return home to. 

‘Our awakening means less than zero.’ And just in case you were wondering, it’s not because of any Acker-bond crap. It’s the real deal; just like Zeke told Eren in chapter 130. Being an Ackerman has nothing to do with either Levi or Mikasa’s feelings towards their respective loves. 

Let’s look at that chorus again, while I start to blush in the corner. ‘You’re trembling, we share a kiss, our worlds eclipse.’ Heck, I never knew SNK could be so ... ahem, yeah. It gets raunchier further on, by the way. But besides the obvious suggestion of passion here, we have the symbolism from the song’s title - the eclipse. What happens during an eclipse? Well, depends what sort to be fair heh, but for a solar eclipse, we have the moon moving in front of the sun, blocking it’s light. And we see the Dark Side of the Moon. Wait!? Isn’t that literally the title of Levi's character song ...? Oh, shit. We’ll check out those lyrics later. Historia is often associated with dawn light, which of course means the sun. The eclipse here is her pregnancy. The two solar bodies appear to become one. Not to mention the literal shape of her stomach! We had those lyrics about ‘letting our worlds collide’ earlier too. Not just referring to the pregnancy, but their supposedly different ideologies around violence/revenge and love/kindness/forgiveness. 

Now for the best bits. 

‘Black sugar, keep it, up til the dawn.’ Told you it gets better. Black sugar is apparently something very addictive. So Levi and Historia are engaged in something very addictive here, keeping them up until the dawn ...? Ah. Yes. Makes sense, considering her current condition. 

And then my very favourite line, that hit me right in the gut when I first listened to this. Because the words sounded very familiar, but not for Historia. 

‘Make a promise that I cannot regret.’ Levi’s whole theme is not regretting the choices that you make. It’s repeated over and over. He makes a promise to Erwin in his vow, but he comes to terms with the fact that fulfilling this is no longer what he really wants - we’ve just seen that realisation in 136 when he talks about how he’s never bungled one of Erwin’s orders, but yet his last one ... He knows attempting to keep that promise will mean he likely won’t ‘get back out alive,’ so instead, he will make Historia a promise that he can’t regret, because he just can’t ‘learn how to let you go.’ I’M NOT CRYING - YOU ARE. Do you remember the two letters - from Petra and Ymir - about marriage? I think we know what Levi is going to dedicate his heart to in the end. Note also the, ‘as long as I can see you, but in secret.’ That just gives us that final confirmation that the relationship alluded to here in Zero Eclipse is one that has been hidden from us - this fits neither Historia/Ymir or Levi/Erwin, although there are elements of both of these in the song. 

Okay, here's the lyrics to Levi’s song. I’m not going to rip it apart like I did with Zero Eclipse, because a) I think a lot of it is self explanatory, and b) the next chapter comes out soon and like, I’d love to have got through everything I want to say before then. So some quick (ish, knowing me) notes:

Okay so this second set of lyrics is the one I want to draw attention to - cleverly nestled in the middle of the song. We’re going to ‘someday’ see the dark side of the moon ‘revealed’. Yeah, when there is an eclipse. This is the only time you see the dark side of the moon. Literally. So we’ll see Levi’s other side when he finds Historia, and they create this eclipse - this child. His true nature will be revealed, and he will not choose violence or revenge. 

‘Persuasion by memories of pain an essential lesson.’ Okay, I can’t really go hugely into this without the Akatsuki no Requiem video, which we’ll look at in a bit. Because then things will mind-bogglingly make sense. If you’ve already seen it and know the theory behind it, then you’ll get what I mean. But essentially, our ending for Levi is going to be bittersweet, because while he ends up with a family of his own finally, he is also plagued with regret and sorrow for what came to pass before, and the huge role he played in it.

‘Just being without regrets, is my own decision.’ Such a simple line, so many powerful meanings. Levi will make the ultimate choice with no regrets in his promise to Historia, and their child. He cannot regret either of them. But he has to make that decision, and we know it will be difficult, because it will mean failing to execute Erwin’s last order. It will probably look likely that he will make the wrong choice up until the very last moment. This again too links in with the ackertalk between Zeke and Eren. Levi is confirming that his decision to be with Historia does not stem from duty or something in his genes. It’s the real deal.

More Fun Song Facts.

Here's the lyrics for Before Lights Out:

Freedom! Freedom! Forgive Me! Retake Maria! Victorious, triumphant! All of my kingdom For your return I will let it burn! I will let it burn! Dear departed I’ll cry for you in a dream Now I must rise to be queen Be worthy Be worthy

The song that is a different version of APETITAN - the soundtrack to Zeke’s Beast’s first appearance. Before Lights Out plays when Erwin leads the suicide charge towards Zeke, after Levi makes his vow to ‘take down the beast titan.’ He watches Erwin and the scouts charge to their deaths and whispers, ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Because he’s never going to fulfil that vow, is he? And we know why when we read the lyrics of the song.

HOLY MOTHER OF FORESHADOWING I have chills.

Ahhhhh I need to talk about Akatsuki no Requiem I guess. This one definitely needs it’s own post.

You still with me? I have drunk a lot of coffee at this point.

[grandhotelabyss]

Via Wesley Yang, this is an interesting but ultimately unpersuasive conservative’s take on a subject that frequently interests us here at Grand Hotel Abyss: the dynamics of cultural change. Our author posits cultural hegemony to be generational hegemony and therefore to last for up to four decades. He intends this—to use the fashionable argot—both as a black pill and a white pill for his right-wing readers. The bad news (for them) is that they’ll be ruled by the woke until about 2050 or so; on the one hand, their time will come around again if they start manufacturing the red pill for Generation Alpha right now. 

Maybe this is a persuasive argument if confined to its own domain. The author claims “culture war” as his topic, but he soon starts talking about a generational shift in attitudes toward capitalism and socialism instead. Economic views, though, are tangential to culture war. Culture itself is more labile; semi-autonomous and molded by major and often histrionic or hysterical personalities (I include myself), its time-scale is shorter and more sensitive to ambient emotion. This essay gives no sense of how prominent liberal and then countercultural ideas became in the ’60s and ’70s, nor the inescapability of conservative ideology in pop and even high culture in the ’80s and ’90s. The oeuvre of an individual popular writer can offer a seismographic readout of these shifts: trace, for example, the transgender characters in John Irving’s fiction from heroic and laudable (The World According to Garp, 1978) to horrifying and dangerous (A Son of the Circus, 1994) and back again (In One Person, 2012)—if he lives long enough, he’ll probably write another trans serial killer.

“Ideas” and “ideologies” are the wrong words for these phenomena, though. Ideology manifests in art as style and sensibility, not open political claims; any given work of art’s stated politics are usually contradicted by what its form knows. It’s senseless to “correct” people, for example, when they identify the Watchmen graphic novel as right-wing, as I’ve often seen people do. What propositional content we can distill from the book does amount to a leftist critique of American empire, yes, but tonally the work is suffused through and through with a nihilism and an antinomianism that pair very well with “there is no such thing as society.” 

Cock your ear for the change in tone and ignore what’s said superficially. Wokeness will not be out-argued in a debate; rather, the agriculturalists who tend the culture will acidify the soil until it can’t grow anymore, a reverse of the earlier process by which the ground was prepared for “believe victims” as a universal mandate. Listen to the latest episode of that literary podcast I mentioned earlier. I only got a few minutes into this one myself because the schtick started to feel mean-spirited, not in an all-in-good-fun Anna-and-Dasha way but truly nasty, even if staged. Where that tone of absolutely knowing insincerity prevails even among hip left-lib literati, no claim to injury, serious or spurious, will even find its way to articulation. 

I am interested for just this reason in the synecdoche that is that tiny emergent literary and arts scene on the Lower East Side. It’s small and semi-obscure, but its members are hardly cultural or economic outsiders exclusively; we’ll be contending with their apparently “based” books and movies much sooner than 2050. Listen to their most promising and acclaimed writer, we’ve mentioned her work here before, on this podcast, as she expatiates on admiring Erwin Rommel, converting to Catholicism, avoiding the vaccine, enjoying Tucker, and so on. 

On the other side of the battlefield, yes, the woke have captured a series of commanding institutions—universities, mainstream media, public schools—but they’ve done so just as those institutions head into a possibly terminal decline, hence their vulnerability to capture in the first place. I doubt the start-up city-states of the future will be responsive to today’s bien-pensance.

How should the independent writer, artist, and intellectual answer these shifting tides? I write on Independence Day. Child of immigrants, I do not feel free to desist from the civic religion no matter the merely rational objections it invites. So, for an alternative view of cultural change, I conclude with the rhetorical fireworks of our most archetypally independent American mind:

The expansive nature of truth comes to our succor, elastic, not to be surrounded. Man helps himself by larger generalizations. The lesson of life is practically to generalize; to believe what the years and the centuries say, against the hours; to resist the usurpation of particulars; to penetrate to their catholic sense. Things seem to say one thing, and say the reverse. The appearance is immoral; the result is moral. Things seem to tend downward, to justify despondency, to promote rogues, to defeat the just; and by knaves as by martyrs the just cause is carried forward. Although knaves win in every political struggle, although society seems to be delivered over from the hands of one set of criminals into the hands of another set of criminals, as fast as the government is changed, and the march of civilization is a train of felonies,—yet, general ends are somehow answered. We see, now, events forced on which seem to retard or retrograde the civility of ages. But the world-spirit is a good swimmer, and storms and waves cannot drown him. He snaps his finger at laws: and so, throughout history, heaven seems to affect low and poor means. Through the years and the centuries, through evil agents, through toys and atoms, a great and beneficent tendency irresistibly streams.

—Emerson, “Montaigne; or, the Skeptic”

[fallenqueen2]

True Parentage [Descendants]

Chapter 1: The Kids

When Carlos gets the idea to use science to find out who their other parents are, everything they thought they knew about themselves is shaken up.

I blame @takaraphoenix for all of this because of our conversation about their missing parents way back when lol

Ao3 Link

True Parentage Tag

~~/~~

“What did you want to talk about ‘Los?” Jay asked as he dropped down onto Evie’s bed, the four were in the girl’s room post the coronation. It had been a week or so and things were starting to settle down around them and Carlos felt that it was the right time to bring up an idea he had.

“Have you guys ever wondered who our other parents are?” Carlos blurted out, fingers twisting together as he spoke.

“I mean… Who hasn’t at some point?” Evie said carefully and Mal hummed as she aimlessly flipped through her spell book that she had just gotten back from Fairy Godmother.

“What are you getting at?” Jay asked his face twisting up as he thought about Jafar and his unknown mother.

“I think I have a way we can find out, no magic just something they call a DNA test,” Carlos explained as he looked at the others. Jay had confusion on his face, Mal had an eyebrow raised as she gave him her full attention and Evie had an understanding look on her face.

“According to the records in the library, before they locked all the Villains up on Isle, they took their DNA and put them in a file… If we compare their DNA against our DNA, the test will tell us who our unknown parent is… I mean if you guys are interested in it. I know our parents no longer rule or define who we are, but I’m just curious I suppose.” Carlos carried on, wishing Dude was there but he had taken off for a run with the track team.

“I don’t see why not! Not like they can hurt us here after all, more so since everyone saw Mal here take her mom down to the size of an actual lizard.” Jay smirked and Mal winked at him playfully while Evie looked thoughtful.

“I think it’s a good idea, I mean my mom does not have blue hair and Mal your hair is starting to match mine,” Evie touched a blue streak in Mal’s purple hair.

“I vaguely remember my father, he left me when I was a baby I think but I suppose it would be nice to have a name to swear and curse at,” Mal said as she closed her book and propped herself up into a cross-legged position on her bed.

“Sure why not,” Jay huffed not wanting to be left behind and melted a touch at the beaming smile Carlos gave at their answers.

“Trust me guys, this will work.”

~~/~~

“I can’t believe this worked,” Carlos whispered as he clutched at four envelopes as he walked next to Ben who had happily joined Carlos at the lab.

“Are you nervous?” Ben asked softly as they made their way to the boy’s dorms where the others were no doubt waiting.

“A bit, I mean what if this tells us something we don’t want to hear?” Carlos was now second-guessing himself as his heartbeat fast in his chest.

“You never know until you try, no matter who your other parent is, nothing about you as people will change.” Ben said firmly and Carlos nodded, somehow feeling better at the King’s words.

“I’ll be in my office if you guys want to come and talk or just hang out after,” Ben said softly as they stopped outside of Jay and Carlos’ door.

“Thanks, Ben,” Carlos ducked his head as he tightened his grip on the envelopes. Ben grasped Carlos’ shoulder in a silent show of support before he headed down the hall and Carlos took a steadying breath before stepping into his room.

“Finally!” Evie squealed and grabbed the envelopes from Carlos the moment he stepped into the room and handed them out to the others.

“Who wants to go first?” She was all but bouncing on her feet; Mal was glaring at her envelope while Jay twisted it around in his hands.

“I suggested it, I mean how bad can it be right?” Carlos tore open his envelope and pulled out his results and scanned the words.

“Oh, okay, yeah that makes sense in a twisted way… However it’s worse.” Carlos said faintly as he sank onto his desk chair as he stares at the paper.

“Carlos?” Jay asked slowly at seeing how Carlos’ freckles stood out even further from his pale skin.

“So…My dad is… Gaston.” Carlos wet his lips as he spoke and looked up at the others.

“Well that explains the bear traps I guess?” Evie offered weakly.

“That means… You’re half-brothers with Gil, Gaston Jr and Gaston the Third.” Jay realized and Carlos let out a groan as he leaned back in his chair.

“Oh god,” Carlos covered his eyes with his hand. “Someone else go, please, I can’t think about this too hard,”

“I’ll go, I want answers,” Evie said firmly as she opened her envelope daintily and quickly scanned her results and her painted lips fell open as she read.

“Oh, oh!” Evie squeaked.

“What?” Mal leaned forward, interest on her face as she took in the shock on Evie’s face.

“Hades… My father is Hades, no wonder I have blue hair.” Evie whispered as she looked up at the others with wide eyes.

“Okay, this is all making sense now because E… Looks like we’re half-sisters.” Mal held up her results and laughed when Evie squealed and threw her arms around Mal, hugging her tightly.

“So that’s the real reason Evie and EQ were banished that one time.” Jay murmured to Carlos while debating if he wanted to see his results or not.

“That does make sense,” Carlos whispered back as they watched the newfound sisters cling to each other, their blue hair matching.

“Wait, doesn’t Hades’ hair you know flame up?” Carlos furrowed his eyebrows as his words caught the girl’s attention.

“I get why mine doesn’t, my fae DNA from my mom must cancel that side of me out,” Mal said thoughtfully before her eyes drifted to the red heart necklace Evie never took off.

“Do you ever take that off?” Mal asked curiously pointing to the necklace that Evie grabbed a moment later.

“No, mother told me never to take it off… You don’t think… It’s some sort of charm?” Evie whispered in realization.

“Only one way to find out,” Mal suggested and Evie got off of the bed and pulled the long-chain up around her neck. The moment it left her, her eyes glowed blue and her blue hair all but flamed to life.

“Oh my god!” Evie screeched as she caught the sight of her flaming hair in the mirror and gingerly touched it, not getting burned.

“Okay, that’s badass.” Jay whistled impressed while Carlos watched with his mouth open and Mal was nodding almost proudly at the sight.  

“Jay, you’re next,” Mal said after a moment of watching Evie’s burning hair and eyes and the thief shifted on his bed as he looked at the envelope before setting his face and tearing it open.

“No, this can’t be right… There’s no way,” Jay whispered a horrified look on his face, his hands shaking as he re-read the words on the paper.

“Come on Jay, it can’t be as bad as Hades and Gaston,” Carlos said soothingly as he got off of the desk chair, moving closer to the shaken form of Jay.

“No, it’s worse… Jafar isn’t my biological father…” Jay whispered and the others gasped at his words.

“My biological parents are… Aladdin and Jasmine.” Jay whispered, fear and horror in his voice as he dropped the paper like it burned him.

“Oh my god, the lost prince… We learned about it in history… Aladdin and Jasmine’s firstborn was taken one night, never to be seen from again… Jafar took you from them that night,” Evie clapped her hands together as she spoke, looking confused as Mal’s eyes began to burn bright green.

“This test is accurate, it’s not just some trick right Carlos?” Mal turned his eyes on her and he cringed back a bit before straightening up.

“Ben and I watched the lab do the tests in person, these are the real results,” Carlos confirmed, wincing as it suddenly hit him that his father had tried to kill Ben’s dad and tried to marry his mom. Sickness and guilt coiled in his stomach but he focused on the shaking form of Jay and hugged the thief tightly, seeing how shaken up he was by it because Jay didn’t wrestle him instead he sagged into Carlos’ embrace.

“What do we do now?” Evie whispered as she touched her flaming hair once more as her eyes darted to the charm that suppressed the Hades, no the demigod in her.

“We have two options. One we keep this to ourselves and tell Ben that they were some no-name random minor villains or… We tell him and we tell Aladdin and Jasmine, that part is up to Jay.” Mal said as she reached out and smiled when Evie’s flaming hair didn’t burn her either, she was trying to process she and Evie were half-sisters. They always had felt like sisters, more so since they left the Isle but now they were bound by blood and it was a nice feeling.

“What if they don’t want me? I was raised by Jafar of all people and I’m a thief from the Isle.” Jay blurted out as he pulled his beanie off his head to run his fingers through his long hair, still leaning against Carlos.

“Aladdin was a thief and a street rat before he met Jasmine and the genie, they won’t condemn you for that or who raised you as you had no say in the matter,” Carlos said confidently as he remembered the stories about Aladdin and the genie.

“They still celebrate your birthday in Agrabah and they mourn the day you were taken, everyone in Agrabah does,” Evie said quietly as she recalled her history lesson about Agrabah.

“They still care then… That’s weird,” Jay wrinkled his nose before letting out a sigh.

“I knew you were too good looking to be Jafar’s kid,” Evie teased and her comment got a laugh from them all before Jay stood up from the bed and put his beanie back on his head and sent them all cocky grin.

“Let’s go see Ben then, see what he can do about all of this.” Jay waved his hand at the four of them and Mal made a face as she held the heart necklace up for Evie. Evie sighed but looped the chain back around her neck and her eyes and hair returned to normal.

“I feel a weight now like it’s on my very soul,” Evie commented as she clutched the necklace.

“When we figure this out, we can practice getting all that fire under control… As sisters.” Mal promised and Evie just beamed and Mal couldn’t stop her smile as the two stood up to join Jay.

“You guys go without me,” Carlos twisted the comforter in his hands, not looking up from the bedding.

“Carlos…” Mal started but stopped when Carlos shook his head.

“It was fine when I was just my mother’s son, but being Gaston’s son? No way Ben or his parents will accept me, they’ll ship me back to the Isle.” Carlos whispered allowing his fears to bubble forth.

“It’s like you never met Ben, he won’t care and neither will his parents because they all know you, Carlos. They won’t see your parents they’ll see you,” Evie said kindly and held her hand out to Carlos who let her words wash over him.

“Besides if they try then they will have to go through us and I’m pretty sure being a lost prince of Agrabah will trump you being Gaston’s kid,” Jay smirked and Carlos let out a small chuckle. Carlos took Evie’s hand and let her pull him over to the others.

“Remember, we’re rotten…” Mal held her hand out.

“To the core,” The others sang as they placed their hands on top of Mal’s.

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Chapter Eleven + Twelve

the selection au - acotar 

Tagged:  @justgiu12 @blxckbeaks @justabunchoffandoms @swagbookmaster @my-fan-side @heyitsrhysand @acourtofmarauders 

Lmk if you want your name added :)

I would greatly appreciate any feedback, twelve has been my favorite so far to write and I would love to hear what you guys think! Happy reading! :)

Chapter Eleven: Nesta 

Ianthe had made sure to inform each of the girls that they would have nothing to do except sharpen their princess skills and hopefully be asked on a date by the prince. The maids were also told to inform them that they were not allowed outside or anywhere except for their rooms and the women’s rooms. 

Nesta had decided to get comfortable either in her bed or on the small sofa in the corner and read the few books she still had in her room. Nesta rolled out of her bed, moving across the room towards the wardrobe against the wall. 

She grabs some jeans and a sweater she brought along with her, deciding to skip the dresses even if she was asked on a date by the prince. She moves behind the screen to change, the door opening and Hanna saying, “Good morning, Lady Nesta, I have a letter from your sisters!” 

“Would you mind reading it to me?” she asks, being met with silence. She peaks her head out to see if she just dropped off the letter and left but is surprised when she sees Hanna looking at her feet embarrassed. “Are you alright?” 

“I just-,” she pauses, looking up at Nesta and giving her a sheepish smile, “I don’t know how to read, I was born and raised as a seven. I didn’t have time to learn, I only know a few words, I make due with what I can.” 

Nesta finishes changing and steps out from behind the screen. “Do you want to learn?” Nesta asks with excitement behind the words.

Hanna’s eyes brighten and she nods, “I would love too, but I don’t have time to take lessons. I am too old.” 

Nesta waves a hand, “Nonsense, we have all day,” she replies, moving over to the bare bookcase that had a few books on it. She wished she could sneak out to the library to pick some easier books but she didn’t want to get into trouble. “Which do you prefer? Art? History? Science?” 

“Let’s do history, I should know some of those words being in the palace,” Hanna replies, sitting down on the sofa excitedly. Nesta grabs the book and moves beside her. They got to work right away, Hanna catching on quickly. Throughout the day they had opened the balcony and the hallway door, to allow a breeze to come through, Beatrice popping in and out to bring snacks for them to share. 

Nesta smiles proudly as she watches Hanna sounding out the words and putting it all together. Maybe Nesta would be happy as a three after all, she would be able to teach, which is what she truly loved to do. She glances up to the open door when she sees Cassian standing in the door frame. “Good morning, Captain,” she replies with a twinge of sarcasm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?” 

He chuckles, leaning against the frame, as he says, “I think you’ve been holed up in your room for too long, it's practically the evening.” 

Nesta looks over at Hanna and says, “I hope I didn’t waste your day away.” 

Hanna shakes her head quickly. “No you didn’t,” she says, clutching the book to her chest, “I should go see if Beatrice needs any help, would you mind if I borrow this? I want to practice tonight.” 

She does a slight bow to Cassian as she squeezes by him, her heels clicking on the marble hallway as she disappears. Nesta stands up putting the rest of the books back on the shelf, as Cassian steps into the room, the door staying open behind him. 

“You are teaching her to read?” Cassian asks quizzically. 

Nesta shrugs as she turns back to face him. “Might as well do something useful for someone before I leave,” she replies. 

His eyebrows furrow but he quickly masks his expression. “The Prince has requested your presence in his boardroom,” Cassian says, explaining his reasons for showing up to her room. “Since you’ve never been on that side of the palace, I thought I would escort you.” 

“Sounds good,” she says, slipping on her shoes, she knew that girls were being sent home today. She knew with the fact that girls had left of their own accord that the selection was going quicker and he would need to make a practical decision. They had already determined that there was nothing between them. 

The move silently, Nesta felt a difference in him, perhaps he thought talking to her the night before was a mistake. Maybe he wanted to show her kindness because he knew she was being sent home. She wanted to ask him if he was okay but in the beginning he had been abrasive to her and she wasn’t his friend, it would probably make him feel worse. 

“Here you go, the prince will be waiting for you,” Cassian says, not bothering to wait for her to say anything before continuing down the hallway. She mutters a thanks wondering what happened to make him so angry before opening the door. 

“Rhysand?” she asks, glancing around the room, he walks out of a small room off to the left with an excited smile. 

“Thanks for coming I am sorry I didn’t have more time to talk since our agreement,” Rhysand says, coming forward and beckoning her to the table in the middle of the room. As she got closer she saw that it was a map of Prythian. “I wanna talk about what you would do first, I have a meeting with my father coming up and I would love to bring up your ideas.” 

To say that she was surprised was an understatement. “I was starting to think you forgot about me,” Nesta replies, her fingers going over the carvings in the wooden table that portrayed mountains and buildings. “Personally, the fives and below feel neglected by the palace. I think that’s why they act out, they work six jobs for the upper castes and then come home to eat the scraps of those above them.” 

He nods, listening to her, she can tell that he is hanging on to her every word. He didn’t know, his father had probably kept this all from him. “As reports suggest the most crime happens in the lower sections, caste seven a close second to cast eight. They steal to feed their families because the castle has proven to not be there for them when they are at their lowest of lows,” she continues. 

He scratches his chin in thought. “So what do you suggest we start with to prove that we will be there for them? You brought up building a better education system, focusing on the lower castes, but that could take months to years. We should start sooner.” 

“Education is great, building the younger generation will allow the country to grow. It will help give a purpose to each caste system, building them to be equals, rather than a sort of staircase to the best. However, I agree, it would take long and with the rebel attacks becoming more consistent they must be getting their recruits from somewhere,” she replies, idea after idea popping into her head, she could do so much with his help. “Food banks, the most crime is fueled by hunger, that would be a good start.” 

He smiles appreciatively, as he looks over the map as if he was deep in thought. As if he could see something that she couldn’t see. “Sounds perfect, I know it may not be easy to share your experiences, especially with someone you hardly know but I want you to know that I really appreciate your sharing with me. It's bringing a lot of things to light.” 

She smiles at that, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her, as she replies, “I am glad to see you are taking this seriously, I may have judged you as a pompous snob before actually meeting you. It’s good to know that there will be a people’s king next.” 

Someone clears their throat and Nesta turns to see the King stride in, he barely glances at Nesta as he looks at Rhysand. “Am I interrupting,” The King asks. 

Nesta watches Rhysands facial expressions but she can’t pin-point exactly what he’s showing. “No, you weren’t, I was just finishing up my date with Nesta,” he turns to look at her, giving her a small smile, as he continues, “I am sure you can find your own way back to your room? I apologize I can’t walk you back.” 

Nesta replies with a soft smile, giving a curtsey to both the King and Rhysand before turning and exiting. The sharp shut of the door echoing through the hallway. She begins down the hallway with a new wave of excitement only shaded by the bewilderment of how the king acted towards Rhysand. 

As soon as her head hit her pillow she was fast asleep her dreams filled with the anger on the king's face and the beginning of a bright future. 

The next morning she was awake before her maids came in, as she opened the curtains she could see the sun was just barely over the horizon. She stayed on the balcony, watching the sunrise, feeling guilty for feeling so excited last night. She knew she shouldn’t, she was doing something right, but she couldn't help but feel that she shouldn’t be happy when her sisters were at home making ends meet. 

Beatrice walks in quietly, hands full as she lets out a noise of surprise when she sees Nesta up. “I am sorry, I didn’t realize you would be awake,” she says, setting the box on her bed.

“I have gotten used to sleeping in, it's hard not too with a bed like that,” Nesta replies, looking at the box expectantly.  

“There was a box outside your door and a note next to it, I am sure it was whoever sent the present and it slipped off,” Beatrice explains, “Did you want me to fetch breakfast or help you get ready for the day?” 

Nesta shakes her head, “No. I am okay, I’ll head down the dining hall soon. I should probably join the other girls, I can’t hide in my room for the rest of my life,” she replies, untying the ribbon and then lifting the lid of the box. 

She smiles as she sees the fairytale and adventure books. “I think this is more of a gift for Hanna than it is for me,” Nesta replies, grabbing the note and breaking the royal seal. Her eyes scan the small note, Thank you for your help yesterday. ~ A pompous snob 

She chuckles, looking back at the contents of the box, she wondered why Cassian would have told him about her teaching Hanna to read. She was grateful for the books but she felt odd about the scenario, Cassian acted like he despised her the majority of the time. She wasn’t sure why he would share something like this with the prince. 

She sets the note down, going into the washroom to change and prepare for the day. She grabs one of the books, if she saw Hanna she wanted to give it to her and if not she would do some light reading in the women’s room.

She spots Cassian and the Prince walking down the hallway towards the dining hall. She smiles, giving a small wave, not knowing if she should stop and talk or not. Rhysand decides to stop in front of her. “Did you receive my note?” Rhysand asks. 

Nesta smiles as she nods, “Yes, it was right next to the box you left, thank you by the way,” she replies, holding the book up as if she needed to prove that she opened. She barely noticed the confusion that covered his face. 

Cassian cleared his throat, looking anywhere but her, which was out of character of him. She never saw him show his nerves, she didn’t even realize he had nerves. “I am sure your parents are waiting for you,” Cassian says, turning towards Rhysand. “Shall we go in?” 

Rhysand brows furrow as he looks at Cassian but the moment doesn’t last long as he turns to her and gives her a smile, “I’ll talk to you soon,” he replies before moving inside. Cassian looks back at her before disappearing into the room. 

She shrugged off the uneasy feeling as if she just spilled a secret she didn’t realize she was keeping as she waited a minute before entering the dining room herself. 

Chapter Twelve: Cassian 

Cassian had been on the opposite of Rhysand for the rest of the day, ever since his conversation with Nesta this morning Rhysand had been giving him weird looks. Cassian knew that Rhysand knew something but he wasn’t sure what Rhysand knew and Cassian wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Cassian shakes his head, he lets go of the pen he had been gripping and runs a hand through his hair. Amren pops her head in moments later, raising an eyebrow at his obvious distressed state. “I am not even going to ask,” she says, shaking her head, “Rhysand is waiting for you out on my training field, where I was holding training, but your bro time comes first apparently.” 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Amren,” he retorts because picking on her didn’t let him think about having to be alone with Rhysand. He knew his best friend and he knew that Rhysand would bring it up, he bet as soon as he saw Cassian he would say something. 

“Oh yeah, what are you going to do when you are the third wheel?” Amren replies in a taunting voice as she disappears, her not fighting back was more cruel than anything she could have said because now he was left to think of every bad conclusion to Rhysand knowing that he gave one of the selected a gift. 

In theory the gift wasn’t really for Nesta, it was for her maid, but he went out to get those books. The palace library wouldn’t have fairy tales but he knew it would help the best. 

He sighs not wanting to drag this on any longer as he moves down the hall towards the outside training area. He spots Rhysand in the center of the sparring area, flinging a wooden spear around wildly, Cassian can’t help but chuckle. 

Rhysand stops at the noise turning to face him. “If you didn’t take so long to get out here I wouldn’t have had to create imaginary villains to fight,” Rhysand says, leaning against the spear and looking at Cassian expectantly. Cassian holds his breath waiting for his friend to bring up this morning and why Cassian had been ignoring him all day. “Well? Are you grabbing one or am I on my own?” 

Cassian shakes his head moving across the mat towards the spears, maybe he was thinking too much about this morning. Maybe Rhysand didn’t even realize what had happened. Anyone could have dropped off those books.

Cassian holds it in his hand loosely as he moves up onto the mat. “Ready to be crushed?” Cassian asks and before Rhysand has a chance to say anything he does his first attack going for Rhysands side. 

Rhysand acts quick blocking it but struggling a little, Rhysand was okay but his reflexes were slow. “I am not sure, I’ve been practicing with a lot of imaginary soldiers. So far I’ve beaten them all,” Rhysand replies, swinging low for Cassian's knee but he easily blocks it rolling his eyes. 

“I get paid to do this all day. You need to do better than that,” Cassian replies, rolling his eyes, as he jabs two swings quickly, causing Rhysand to take a couple steps back. 

“How about we make this interesting?” Rhysand asks, “If you win, I’ll do something for you and if I win, you do something for me.” 

Cassian rolls his eyes as Rhysand goes low, again. He ponders the idea, he didn’t know what Rhysand wanted from him but there were a couple things he could ask Rhysand for. “How about you kick that ungrateful cousin of yours out and never let him back in, why is he even still here?” Cassian asks as he simply ducks from Rhysand wild swing. 

Rhysand laughs, “He’s leaving soon, don’t worry,” he replies. “Now, don’t you want to know what I want?” 

Cassian rolls his eyes, giving him an easy dodge, as he says, “What could you possibly want from me?” 

Rhysand smirks and Cassian regrets asking. “Just a simple answer to a simple question,” Rhysand replies, his swings getting more precise and harder with every movement. He wasn’t sure if it was because Rhysand was actually strong or Cassian was too confused. “Why were you sending gifts to one of my selected girls?” 

Cassian pauses, his mind faltering as Rhysand lets out a swing knocking the wooden spear straight out of his hand. Cassian blinks down at the spear and then up at Rhysand. He didn’t look mad, more curious and mischievous as he watched Cassian be miserable. 

“It wasn’t for her, it was for her maid,” Cassian replies easily. 

Rhysand hums, raising an eyebrow at him, he didn’t believe Cassian and Cassian was getting worried for his own and Nesta safety. He didn’t mean for the gift to cost her her life. “I caught her teaching her maid to read yesterday, she only had a few books in her room and with the new rules of where the girls could go I took it on myself to give them some more learning material,” he explains hoping his voice stayed steady as he spoke. 

Rhysand nods, “I am not mad at you, I was just curious” he replies. 

Cassian raises an eyebrow at that, still not wanting to look his friend in the eye, he may not have physically betrayed Rhysand but his thoughts betrayed his friend whenever he was near Nesta. He had gotten to know a silver of her over the few days she had been here and he had been impressed. She was more intelligent and beautiful than any girl he had been with before who only wanted him for his caste and status. 

However, it didn’t change the fact that she had come here for Rhysand not Cassian. It was a hard truth to swallow but Cassian would have to stay as far away from her as he could. Rhysand waves his hand in front of his friend. “I lost you there,” Rhysand replies, and Cassian swears that he knew what he was thinking about. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to stress you out. I know you’ll do anything for me, even if it goes against what's best for you.” \

Cassian falters, but he can’t ask what that actually means because he spots the King coming towards them with an angry expression. “Who do you think he's mad at?” Cassian asks. 

Rhysand chuckles turning to face Cassian. “I already got my daily yelling, this is all you,” he replies, clapping Cassian on the back before bending over to grab Cassian’s wooden spear. “Good luck,” he says as he moves to put them away as the King stops in front of the mat. 

“Where is my list?” The King asks all business, not even bothering to ask him how he was or even say a hello. “I wanted one a week ago.” 

Cassian raises an eyebrow, he hadn’t even told Cassian he wanted it a week ago. “I don’t have it with me, did you want me to verbally tell you or shall we head to my office?” Cassian asks drily, knowing one wrong word or move could get him killed but at this point he couldn’t wait for Rhysand to be King. 

“I want to deploy a group tomorrow, you know why you have to choose,” The King replies with a snicker, as if this was all a game and Cassian was simply a pawn. Cassian looks away from the king, the guilt filling him as he thinks back to that night. 

He reached forward pushing a strain of her hair behind her ear while she looked up at him with those warm brown eyes, he felt like he could get lost in them, the freckles on her cheeks printed constellations that he wished he could study for hours. 

“I don’t want to leave you,” she murmurs, her voice shaky, he had never heard her so upset. They had met in training both drafted around the same time. Cassian knew he would climb quickly based on his connections but he didn’t feel right skipping the bootcamp. She picked on him from day one calling him the prince's pet. 

He hadn’t met anyone with such determination and fire, he would later know the reason behind those flames of copper piercing the corners of her eyes and the sharpness of her tongue. Her brother was mentally ill, born differently than the others, when his name was called for the draft she took his name and went instead. 

She was fighting for her family which is more than Cassian could say, he was fighting because he was told too, because that’s what he was programmed to do. He saw a new purpose through her. She had lit a spark inside of him that he thought he had lost. 

“I am not going to let you leave,” he replies earnestly as he presses her to his chest. They had no idea what was outside of the borders, all they knew is that every time they sent a group they didn’t come back. The King didn’t care too much about the loss of men, he sent group of five after group of five after group of five, the same supplies and the same amount of guns. 

He was walking men and women to their death and for what reason? Cassian shook his head, he couldn’t let the anger he felt for the King cloud this moment. 

She chuckles through her sobs. “I don’t think even the prince’s pet can get my name off that list,” she replies. Cassian hadn’t been at the meeting to determine who would go. Rhysand had needed something and he had run off to help. He walked into his room that night to see her sitting on his bed, her hair disheveled as she stared out his window biting her nails. 

She didn’t have to say a word for him to know her name was on that list. Through their relationship they both knew that Cassian’s name would never be picked and that he wouldn’t understand how scared she was to see her name. She wanted to serve her time and then go back to her brother who only had her and their grandmother. 

He ran a hand through her hair, pulling her far enough away that they were nose to nose as he breathed in her set not letting himself dwell on how this could be the last time. “Let’s get some sleep,” he replies, bringing her to the bed. She wraps her arms around his chest, her head against his shoulder, and he doesn’t dare to make a move before he feels her even breathing. 

He slips out from her grasp, only pausing at the door to see her sleeping form framed by the light pouring through his open door, he slips out shutting it quietly behind him on the hunt for blood. 

“This was the price you have to pay,” The King replies with a slight shrug pulling Cassian from his thoughts. Cassian clenches his fist feeling his nails against his palms, he had never seen the King trian before and even if he did Cassian was much taller and broader, if Cassian truly wanted to he could take him down. 

But the King had a point. He was so carried away by emotion that he thought that he bested the King when in reality he just fell deeper into his trap. 

“Why her? She has a family she needs to take care of,” Cassian explains, pacing the room as he looks over at Rhysand who looked like he was about to fall asleep in the chair. His father had been working him all hours of the day and night. The King looked irritated at the fact Cassian was bothering him. 

“They all have families,” Rhysand tries to explain but there's a sadness to his voice, the recognition that Rhysand was powerless in this situation. “I am sorry for you Cassian.” 

Cassian ran a hand through his hair thinking about the girl that was asleep in his bed, the girl that snored softly and talked in her sleep, the girl that rolled her eyes but smiled shyly whenever he cracked a joke, the girl that had made him feel alive again. She was the one that reminded him that he was not just a robot meant to do someone else's bidding. He gave her courage. 

“I’ll go,” he replies with strength in the statement he hadn’t even thought just blurted. Rhysand sits up now fully awake, his mouth open slightly as he looks over at his father who taps his chin smugly. “Send me instead, leave her here, and give her the immunity that you granted me.” 

Cassian couldn’t look at his friend who was staring daggers into him, Cassian could practically hear him begging for him to take back his words. They had always promised to do this together but that was before Cassian knew her, loved her. 

“This is an interesting predicament that you put yourself in,” The King says, rubbing his hands together as he studied him from across the room. “Very well, if you truly want to sentence yourself to death for this girl then very well. Report here tomorrow before dawn. You will be sent off then.” 

Cassian bows his head in thanks, relief filling him as he realizes that she would be with her brother again. She would be able to live how she had taught him too once again. “Thank you, your majesty,” he says, glancing over at Rhysand’s face was full of hurt. He gave a small smile to his friend before leaving to go back to his room. To spend one last night with the girl he thought he would marry one day. 

“Are you going to tell me the names or not?” The King asks beckoning him with his hand to list the names. 

Cassian blinked at the King, his mind clouded with past memories he had wished to forget. He listed the first four names, including Bronson who had already been sent ahead, pausing before clearing her throat and saying, “And lastly, me. Cassian Monte.” 

The King stares at him, piercing him with his look. “Do you not remember the last time you wanted to sacrifice yourself?” The King growls, “It didn’t go too well for you.” 

Cassian kissed her forehead, watching her breathe in and out, he felt calm and he hoped he could feel this way all the way to his death. He grabbed the bag he had quickly packed when he returned, moving to the door, peeking back to see her shifting away from him. 

He knew that she would be upset but proud, this is what she taught him after all. You make sacrifices for those you love. The walk to the throne room felt like an eternity; he felt uneasy as he opened the door stepping in to see no one else in sight; perhaps they hadn’t arrived yet. 

The door slammed behind him and he turned to try the knob it was locked from the outside. “I am glad you could follow this order,” The King says, coming through the side room followed by two guard, he motions for them to go forward. “Grab him.” 

Cassian confusion slowed his reaction, he tried to shove them off as they pushed him towards a window, he looked out to see a crowd of soldiers waiting. Five soldiers stood in the center, one of them here. She glances around the group of soldiers sending them off.

“You said it would be me!” Cassian growls, shoving at the guards but their grip tightened around his shoulder. He looked over the King who was looking at him with amusement. “That should be me,” he says more to himself than anyone else as he watches the group walk towards the palace gates as they slide open and she looks back. She was looking for him and he wouldn’t be there. 

“I lied,” The King replied easily with a wave of his hand as if it should have been obvious. If Cassian was of sane mind he probably would have known the King was lying last night but he was blinded by his love for her, he realized that she would never know. “That’s what you get for disobeying my orders.” 

He jerks against the guards, glad that they held him back, he didn’t know what his anger would make him do in that moment. He bites his lip until he tastes the metallic of blood. “This is to teach you a lesson,” he replies, gesturing down below where the soldiers were already getting back to work as if they hadn’t just sent soldiers to their death. “You were designed for this position by your adoptive father, he trained you to rule next to Rhysand as he did to me. I would not let you be swayed by a measly girl.” 

Cassian bit harder, his jaw clenching, as he stared at the King with what he can only imagine is pure hatred. The King hardly noticed. “She made you soft, the Cassian I knew wouldn’t care, he would be glad that he was in a position of such authority,” The King practically yells in anger. 

Cassian glances away, he wasn’t a killing machine, he didn’t enjoy seeing these hopeful soldiers, some merely eighteen like himself being tossed away as if they were nothing. 

The King begins to laugh startling Cassian. “I have the perfect punishment for you, one that will bring about the stone cold general you will be,” the King says rubbing his hands together as he looks at Cassian. Cassian wants to shrivel under his glare but if he stays broad he wouldn’t let the King bring him down. “You’ll be in charge of picking the recruits, and if you ever get close to someone like that again you’ll have to live with the fact that you wrote their sentence.” 

“You thought you could get out of this that easily?” The King snarls, Cassian hadn’t seen him this visible angry in a long while. Over the years he had been able to hide it better and better only bringing it out behind closed doors usually with his son. “You haven't finished your sentence until I am on my deathbed.” 

Cassian couldn’t wait until that day.

[o0o-chibaken-o0o]

Do you have any rec list with bonds, forced or not between drarry From soulmate bond to magical link, whatever really

OH BOY DO I. This is one of my favorite tropes, and this list (which I made on a whim upon seeing a facebook post about bonding) barely scratches the surface of all the amazing related fics! Enjoy

The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora (59K)- In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.HONESTLY just the memory of this fic is so happy and healing that I’m almost certainly going to reread it a third time within the next week there’s KNITTING!!! But also D/S dynamics and shop-owning and tons of wonderful amazingness

For The Greater Good by @jadepresley (62K)- When Harry and Draco discover they’ve been bonded to one another, neither one of them is prepared for the secrets they slowly begin to uncover. Together, they learn that they can’t escape their past, or the things that have been left hidden there, and that sometimes the only way to move forward is to look back.This fic has SO MANY GREAT THINGS! I started to type them all out but then realized y’all probably don’t want a ton of spoilers and the way the plot of this fic unfolds and everything comes together is just masterful and enthralling and full of surprises!

Lift Your Open Hand by @firethesound (18.5K)- With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.I love love love this fic! It’s got sort-of bumbling Auror partners!Drarry who get into trouble first thing and then COVER IT UP like a pair of adorable idiots and of course they’re like this will be FINE until it’s not fine and everybody’s in love and Nick Cage is there for some reason and the reader is grinning like a loon

Twice as Much as an Earthquake by @firethesound (18.5K)- Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring, however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy’s waging against detention. This isn’t the normal school year Harry anticipated having, but at least it’s not boring.I read this so long ago it is DEFINITELY time for a re-read because all I remember is feeling a great sense of mischief and joy, and like that’s everything we all need in our lives right now. 

Unexpected Consequences by lauren3210 (39K)- Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn’t know why he expected anything different.This is one of the earliest drarry fics I read (possibly the first eighth year one?) and I have adored it ever sense! It has a wonderful premise, great exploration of issues of consent with a power imbalance, and all your standard amazing bonding tropes– especially roommates!! And Harry being Draco’s protector! OH AND it was written to go with “that picture” (you know the one) and so has an amazing dark mark removal scene that I’ll never forget!

In Evidence of Magical Theory by @bixgirl1​ (43.5K)- When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they’re forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible.In which Harry and Draco can’t fight, so they fall in love instead.OKAY I REMEMBER when I read this fic and was like WHO IS THIS RANDOM AMAZING WRITER??? because it was her first fic and now she’s one of the greats but damn this fic is still a testament to some of the things bix does best and is a must-read!!! Magical theory! Eighth year! Room sharing! BED SHARING! Her first drarry rimming scene!!! (Aww

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl (60.5K)- When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected. Like every single Saras_Girl fic ever, this fic is a true gem. It’s a relatively simple setting (seeing as they’re stuck in a house) but so realistic and subtle and evocative. The bonding in this fic is more physical than emotional, which is not only an interesting change of pace but also makes for many truly wonderful and embarrassing moments :D

The Comfort of Tea by Omi_Ohmy (20.5K)- A lawn mower, a pertly pink todger, endless cups of tea and a few sly grins. Oh yes, and Harry is cursed to temporarily bond to anyone he gets close to; for some reason that person ends up being Draco, more often than not…OKAY usually bonding fics are all angsty and pining-y, but this one is just fucking ADORABLE and fluffy and warm and cute and it will make you happy!!!!

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (104.5K)-  Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.This fic was like a revelation when I read it because it was so. damn. good!!! One of my favorite fics of all time and a VERY refreshing take on the veela!Draco trope. Draco is the most hilarious, snarky, relatable narrator and the story is full of pining and tons of entertaining incidents and it’s just a perfect (and long, bless us all!) fic!

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (173.5)- I started to write this before HBP came out, and crossed my fingers that HBP wouldn’t make it totally non-canon. No such luck, I’m afraid. This, therefore, is an AU story, where (SPOILER) still teaches (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn’t try to (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn’t succeed in (SPOILER), (SPOILER) never dated (SPOILER), and most importantly, (MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS) never happened.This is like… the OG drarry bonding fic. An absolute classic, for very good reason! Warning for pressure to be intimate because of the bond.

Timeshare by @astolat (14K)- “It’s not for long,” Hermione said. “By the time we get back to Hogwarts, the Unfettering Brew will be ready.”“Listen to you!” Ron said. “He’s got to get through a month with the Dursleys and a month at Malfoy Manor. With Draco Malfoy.”“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, because he hadn’t just spent the last week contemplating just how much more horrible his summer holidays were about to be than they’d ever been before.My favorite part about this fic is the sweet sweet satisfaction of Draco meeting the Dursleys and being VERY Malfoy about it. But there are also a lot of touching moments of Harry and Draco figuring each other out and learning to respect each other as well.

Dear Uncle Plume by @eidheann (16.5K)- Life after war is nothing like Draco expected. He only hopes he’ll survive it. Especially when his friends are less than sympathetic.OKAY BUT AGONY AUNT DRACO. That’s literally all that needs to be said and if that isn’t enticing to you then who even are you. Also contains great Slytherin friendships, struggling Draco, and secret relationship -> mpreg -> bond -> angst drama

The Sleeping Beauty Curse by who_la_hoop (152.5K)- When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he …?This is a FABULOUS fic, completely hilarious and touching and full of all your favorite tropes, and SO LONG!!! Hours and hours of pure enjoyment :D

The Arrangement by create_serenity (Sivany) (16K)- The arrangement was very simple really, and very convenient. Draco just hadn’t expected it to result in this mess.So veela!Harry and veela!Draco have a deal in which they casually help each other out (with sex, in case that wasn’t obvious) while they search for their true mates, and OF COURSE you know what happens next and honestly what a brilliant idea

Before the World Was Made by daftfear (43K)- Draco has done everything in his power to leave the past behind him. He’s established himself a successful business and built a reputation around the quality of his work and the breadth of his knowledge. But when aurors show up at his shop one afternoon, seeking his expertise on a peculiar item of questionable origins, they completely overthrow the precarious balance in Draco’s life. Trust Potter to bring danger and destruction in his wake, along with a painful reminder of all the things Draco is trying to forget.WHAT BETTER to bond our two boys together than a cursed (wedding!!) ring, right?? Also I love any and all fics with antique shop owner!Draco, and lots of exploration of wizarding history and traditions, and this one does both things so well

Hungry by birdsofshore (24K)- The first thing Harry knew about it was when he woke up lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with his arm firmly stuck to the scrawny, milk-white arm of Draco bloody Malfoy.Another classing must-read bonding fic!!! This time featuring drarry as enemies with their arms literally stuck together in eighth year. AS GOOD AS IT COULD GET. One of my favorite enemies-to-lovers fics AND one of my favorite eighth year fics!

[queenlokibeth]

Shall we talk about the songs on louis’ “28 songs” playlist?

(Massive observation of all 28 songs ahead. Yes it took me 2 hours to make this. Skip to the end after the keep reading if you want the TL;DR)

You’re not the only one - Sam Fender

“The song is in fact about his best mate and himself “coming out on the other end of a bad place” and going out to party. He told Virgin Radio that “It’s a celebratory song about loving your mate, really”. “ - Genius lyrics

“ The fabricated smiles so wide, they're of hope Your composure is so brittle, and you hold yourself so well Inside, you cling to pieces of a broken carousel “ well yes i am crying

“We'll have this place on lockdown, it's here for you to taste“

Call me out - Sea Girls (Nautical theme, anyone?)

“And I've changed a lot since then, ask my friends The crying stopped, on top of that, my eyes forgot An old flame who got her hips on a bucket list And times missed every night since we first kissed”

“ And I've changed a lot since then, ask my friends My clothes, my frame, I've spent enough but feel the same”

“And I'll be waiting when you come and call”

“ I can burn that bridge when we get to it “

The Runner - Foals

“... The narrator is done lamenting his fate now and Part 2 sees him picking himself up, dusting himself off, and moving forward... [A] call to find a sense of purpose and perseverance despite the odds and despite the troubles we may find inside or outside ourselves.” - Genius lyrics

Nightmares - Easy Life

“...topics of insomnia, anxiety, and peer pressure.... The major chords acting to cover up the emotions professed in the lyrics, turning the song itself into a perfect metaphor...” - About the song, Genius lyrics.

“ It's all a bit of fun until somebody gets hurt I’ll take it with a pinch of salt, another bridge is burned” Burning bridges, again, you say?

“ It's all a bit of fun until somebody gets hurt I'll take it with a pinch of salt, another lesson learned But I don't need to know what's real or not no more I don't need to know what's real or not no more “

My honest face - Inhaler (pretty self explanatory title there)

“ [The vocalist] fears being met with nitpicking or criticism of the lesser parts of his performance. He thinks of himself as skilled, but not perfect. “ - About the song, Genius lyrics.

“And honey, I could play the Joker My made up smile broke your heart last night No, no, no, I didn't want to hurt ya But there's just a certain culture when you're young When you're young “

“ And honey, I could play the hater Acting like I hated her last night No, no no, I didn't want to hurt you “

“ I'll take you to an honest place Darling, I just can't find my honest face It's all over the place, it's all over the place “ So he wants to show his audience who he really is, but he can’t.

Your girlfriend - Blossoms (oh? oH?)

This one is interesting. There are many pronoun changes through the song. It’s hard to figure out at which point the girl goes from being “a friend who is a girl” to “girlfriend” and who is the speaker, who is the friend, and who is the girl.

“ I'm a boy And she's a girl With more charm than most movie stars So we met Through a friend We rent a place and she comes round to stay “ The first ‘we’ is the speaker and the girl, the second we is the speaker and his friend. This is when the song starts sounding like a dialogue to me: one person sings everything until before the last line, and the last line is a reply from the friend.

“ And now your girlfriend is ringing in my ears again “ There is a change here from “we met through a friend” (telling the story to someone else) vs this line, where the speaker is talking TO said friend, or perhaps following up on the dialogue theory, this is the friend replying to the speaker.

“ What am I supposed to do? I can tell, they get along so well” Is this the speaker talking about his friend and the girl, no longer talking TO the friend? I feel like this is the (mutual)friend wondering about his girl friend and the speaker.

“Is it possible, she likes me too?

I'm not sure if I should read between those lines “ This could be the speaker wondering.

“I should be moving out but can't 'cause we've just signed a lease “ (Again with the renting? Princess park? Hmm?)

“Thought maybe we'd go out for a movie And we can forget friends who'll be fuming Then I could walk you home in the evening And that's just being friendly “ This can be analysed in so many different ways depending on who’s speakig and to whom.

“And now your girlfriend is ringing in my ears again And when she smiles, I can't hide my jealousy Oh I can't take it, boy I hope she's faking it I heard he bought a ring today

I heard they got engaged today “ This one is interesting, because she might have ended up together with either the friend or the speaker, and whichever one she did not end up with is referring FIRST to their buddy and then moving on to address someone else, telling the story. Also, it almost sounds as if whoever is saying this is jealous OF THE GIRL, not of the guy who is with her.

Overall there is a lot to unpack with this song, mainly because of the change in pronouns and who the singer has as their audience for each line.

Empty hands - Tors

“Too late to call I've been away left you alone”

“I didn't notice you're feeling hopeless So blue-ou-ou again”

“And I'm nothing more than just a man And it breaks my heart When I break your heart”

“And I promised more than I could give And it's not the life you thought you'd live”

“Saturday nights up on the roof Sundays in bed Coffee and sleep Head for a walk Down by the sea with you-ou-ou” (Again nautical theme? Eroda anyone? Lou’s MV? Harry’s MV?)

“When I come back home I see the lights That you left on for me every night When I see you standing at the door Everything i want for evermore “ (Lights up? met you at your doorstep?)

Restrospect - Vistas

“See you find comfort in small things Which she considers the wrong things And you find comfort in hellos Not goodbyes, not goodbye And you try not to have issues With the hate you, love you, and miss yous That all come out when she kissed you Goodbye, goodbye” This is basically saying “hey i know about the stuff you like and don’t, she doesn’t! also you were feeling great until she ruined it!”

“Singing Sweet Caroline with diamonds in her eyes” (diamonds will make sense with the next song)

“Throw my arms to the skies”

“ Let me go and I'll forget Happiness in retrospect” Letting go has been a big theme y’all.

“See you find comfort in tall things Which he considers the wrong things And you find comfort in things he can't Recognise, recognise”  OH HO HO HO WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT PRONOUN CHANGE? Now there’s a MAN who isn’t right for this person according to the singer.

“ And you want nothing but all this While he's stuck trying to solve it Nevertheless acquiesce till you feel those Butterflies, butterflies “

Lucy - Ten Tonnes (aHA! Lucy as in Lucy in the sky with diamonds, aka ANOTHER Beatles reference up in this bitch.)

“ Where you left your face “

“ Come away, from the window Haven't you learnt? That in dreams you can't get burned And I will meet you there Under purest skies It's where I'll be When they're finished with me” This gives me some SOTT vibes.

My Cheating Heart - Love Fame Tragedy (Pretty self explanatory song title, pretty self explanatory band name)

“Money, women, cars Leave my head among the stars 'Cause I want it all, yeah, yeah I want it all Puppet on a string is it such an evil thing”

“ So do I sink or do I float now?” The water scenes in the MVs????

Tears dry on their own - Amy Winehouse (ouch)

About the song: “She describes how a tarnished relationship has made her feel, and how she cries often. [Song] Samples Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” Interesting sampling there, since ANMHE literally goes “ain’t no mountain high enough... to keep me from getting to you babe. Remember the day I set you free...” and just great song overall i cannot copy the whole thing here but YO.

“Once it was so right When we were at our height Waiting for you in the hotel at night I knew I hadn't met my match But every moment we could snatch I don't know why I got so attached It's my responsibility And you don't owe nothing to me But to walk away I have no capacity “ Well i am crying this isn’t it THIS AINT IT

“He walks away The sun goes down He takes the day but I'm grown And in your way, in this blue shade My tears dry on their own” Letting go, your partner leaving you for someone else... there’s a lot to unpack here.

“We could a never had it all We had to hit a wall So this is inevitable withdrawal Even if I stop wanting you A perspective pushes through I'll be some next man's other woman soon” So, Walls? Hardship in the relationship? Not being the formal girlfriend/partner but the side-chick?

“ I wish I could say no regrets And no emotional debts Cause as we kiss goodbye the sun sets So we are history”

2all - Catfish and the Bottlemen

“Life got led By people who Just wanna flood your head

... But it fits you at the time To fall for every line “ As stated by Genius: “...life is often “led” or heavily influenced by those who can rally people to follow their thoughts and ideas, e.g. friends, employers... The “fall for every line” is referring to the ones who let the people that try to influence their lives into their head and let them take over. “

Also, About:  “ The song has a heavy emphasis on how you should hold the best people closest to your heart – the ones who are always there for you when you need them and the people you can count on all the time.”

“ Oh, they convinced me every time That I needed fooling So that I'd go and get it right Yeah, somewhere, they convinced me down the line When I needed fooling So that I'd go and get it right”

Reptilia - The Strokes

About the first lines:  “ A shot at journalists; The Strokes, especially Julian, have never been open with the press and want their music to do their talking.”

“"You sound so sleepy, just take this, now leave me" From Genius:  “Julian’s girl is talking to him, telling him that he looks “sleepy” but he probably is bored... his girl gets frustrated with him and eggs him on to ditch her.”

Honestly the whole analysis on Genius is pretty on point:

“He’s using sarcasm, the girl is trying as hard as she can to keep the relationship together, she’s thirsty as fuck and the night is barely over.... At this point Casablancas just wants to get out of the relationship. he sees this desperate need to leave, but she remains behind.... He’s waited long enough and it’s finally over between whom ever the girl is. She’s not having fun anymore and her happiness becomes sorrow, he just wants this night to be over....[About the title]   Reptiles are cold blooded creatures (and the girl in the song just doesn’t care about the guy.)”

Harmony Hall - Vampire Weekend

This song sort of refers to hate groups, keep that in mind.

“ We took a vow in summertime Now we find ourselves in late December”

“ I thought that I was free from all that questionin'”

“ I don't wanna live like this, but I don't wanna die “

Runaway - KAWALA

“ Run away from the words unspoken Coast to coast going through the motions of Who'll be a better man, who'll do it better”

“ And I'll help you follow the line “

“ We're miles apart, closing up the distance I'm reaching out if you need assistance Who'll be a better man, who'll do it better”

“Today is the day I'll get on Awaiting the storm to move on I lie naked in wait to reform Let's try make it right this time now” I’m-- Bitch i’m---

“ Oh, it's all so emotional Oh, I hope that you're coping Oh, I won't let you lose it all “

Mr. Brightside - The Killers (Ah well we all know this one who are we even kidding)

Honestly this is where shit starts aligning.

About the song: “the song deals with issues of infidelity, paranoia, and jealousy”

“ Coming out of my cage and I've been doing just fine Gotta gotta be down because I want it all It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?” Iconic, we all know it, wild.

More About:  “ The song is about the THOUGHT that one’s significant other is cheating”

And anyway, more paranoia and jealousy and fear of getting cheated on.

For now - DMA’S

“ All I need to know, she's dead to me” Well that is... harsh.

“ Quite like what I need to be, I'll send your bones to the sea “ You know the drill.

“ No, I won't be anymore, no, we won't be anymore “

“ Lately, we've lost control of everything you're biddin' for You keep me down, you set the score I've been impossible, only words are drowning out Take your head out of the clouds” There’s like 80 different meanings here.

Belter - Gerry Cinnamon

About the title: “ “belter” which is Scottish slang for an exceptional or outstanding example of something”

“ Diamonds oan' her finger and she always looks her best “ Diamonds again. Also allusion to rings ehem.

“ No happy endings, unless fairy-tales come true But she looks like a princess and there’s not much else to do I think I love her “ :(

“Is happiness an option, or has love just turned me blind?” Double :(

Dry your eyes - The Streets

The whole thing is about a breakup.

“In one single moment your whole life can turn around“

“ Please let me show you how we could only just be for us I can change and I can grow, or we could adjust The wicked thing about us is we always have trust”

“We can even have an open relationship if you must”

“Dry your eyes, mate I know it's hard to take but her mind has been made up There's plenty more fish in the sea Dry your eyes, mate I know you want to make her see how much this pain hurts But you've got to walk away now, it's over” It’s like he’s talking to his buddy who just went through a painful breakup telling him to n o t l e t i t b r e a k h i s h e a r t.

“ 'Cause I can't imagine my life without you and me There's things I can't imagine doing, things I can't imagine seeing “

“ 'Cause you said it'd be forever and that was your vow And you're gonna let our things simply crash and fall down? “ I didn’t include it before, but a few other songs also mention vows.

“ I know in the past I've found it hard to say Telling you things but not telling straight But the more I pull on your hand and say The more you pull away”

Confidence - Ocean Alley

(Random fact: I just noticed that this song is from an album called Chiarobscuro, and i didn’t include it but one of the previous songs also used that word)

“ Well, I should've said this, and I should've said that All that I know now”

Modern Love - Courteeners (quite the title)

“We got style and we got grace, we run wild and never dance alone In this town, she’s fucking famous But this town will never be her home” LA anyone?

“ But I don’t need this modern love This modern love Oh, it always lets me down”

“The popularity trap strikes again You don’t need these fools cause you’re incroyable“ Yeah not to be that larrie but the TPWK website has been telling people that they’re “incroyable” (incredible)

“ We found solace at The Star and Garter “ Oh, what is The Star and Garter? Oh you know, just “... a cult club located in their home town of, Manchester.” Anyways moving on

I am slowly losing my shit here:

“ A bare mattress, a lockless door Two Withington hearts on a pique assiette floor Give me back those awkward exchanges The fumbles In bathtubs When we were just strangers We talk about your graduation And the realisation that we might not be together forever and ever “ Withington is an area of south Manchester.

“ Wide-eyed and up all night This could be good” ANYWAYS...

Laurel Wreath - Bear’s Den

About the title: “refers to the Ancient Greek tradition of awarding Olympic victors laurel wreaths. The laurel wreath is also used in academia and as an architectural accent, for good luck.In this song the wreath is withering, and Andrew Davie uses this idea of athletic defeat as a symbol for his failures and relationship issues.”

“ Or the collapsing of a history “

“ But you found me in the morning, December in my eyes” December was mentioned in other songs, too.

“ Got your call, I needed it more than I could let on to you” WELL

Riot Van - Arctic Monkeys

About the song:  “[The people in the song] As long as they had some good laughs, they don’t care if they are rich or have a job or are poor or anything. They just want to exist. “

“ Got a chase last night From men with truncheons dressed in hats We didn't do that much wrong Still ran away though, for the laugh Just for the laugh“

“ Well, they won't catch me and you”

“ Is there a certain age you're supposed to be? 'Cause nobody told me"

“ They get their address and their names took But they couldn't care less” Genius says: “ This is the police’s main deterrent for underage offenders, but the parents of these boys have obviously had so many calls from them that the boys don’t care anymore.”

Ahhh but the fun comes with painful consequences:

“Thrown in the riot van And all the coppers kicked him in And there was no way he could win Just had to take it on the chin” Also from Genius: “ Throughout society, whatever he does is never good or acceptable enough. He always gets pushed further down and down, to the point where he’s given up. He’s never going to win, there are too many people with much more power going against him. He just has to ‘take it on the chin’, ie. he has to accept that this is his life, there’s not point fighting against it because nothing will ever change.”

Please, please, please let me get what I want - The Smiths (it doesn’t get more literal that this tbh)

About the song: “ This song is about the desperation to fulfill personal desires... He has lived a life full of disappointment and maybe despair... For once he is having a good time, which is a wonderful surprise...” Also, sidenote, in live shows the title lyric apparently gets changed to “let me get who i want”.

The Less I Know the Better - Tame Impala (buddy let me tell you, the amount of gay fics i’ve seen from different fandoms using part of this song as a title...)

About the song: “...describes the pain of a man feeling left out in a love triangle”

“ She was holding hands with Trevor Not the greatest feeling ever” Y’all remember the Trevor concert incident with Harry? also the singer’s name is Kevin... who’s feuding with Trevor in the song... maybe that doesn’t mean shit.

“ Then I heard they slept together Oh, the less I know the better The less I know the better” Oh perhaps you broke up with your love and now he’s with someone else and it hurts?

“ Oh my love, can't you see that you're on my mind”

“ She said, "It's not now or never Wait ten years, we'll be together" I said, "Better late than never Just don't make me wait forever" Don't make me wait forever Don't make me wait forever” Oh shit bruuuuuh oh SHIT.

“I was doing fine without ya Till I saw your face, now I can't erase Giving in to all his bullshit Is this what you want? Is this who you are?” BULLSHIT? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE?

“Oh, sweet darling, where he wants you Said, "Come on Superman, say your stupid line" “

Tomorrow never knows - The Beatles (AHHH WE LOVE A BEATLES REFERENCE)

Song is from the Revolver album (gunshot anyone?)

“Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream It is not dying, it is not dying “

“Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void It is shining, it is shining”

Eat, Sleep, Wake (Nothing But You) -  Bombay Bicycle Club

“ Eat, sleep, wake Nothing but you” Habit? I don’t know if I could ever go without?

“ I can see where you are, dream where you are Will the song never end? Us on the bed half a meter apart”

“ I may not say it outwardly So all I have are memories Those looks at the start, the words in the dark But never a flame, we just wanted the spark”

ANYWAYS CONCLUSION TIME, or TL;DR: There is A LOT to unpack here. All of these songs vaguely follow the same theme. There’s a lot of breaking up going on, as well as moving on and third parties being involved. There’s stuff about being controlled, not being enough, wanting to be yourself, There’s references to Louis’ songs, to Harry’s songs, to 1D tracks, to Larry, to Elounor, you name it. This playlist is definitely giving us a taste of what Walls will deal with and boy is it A LOT.

[elliemarchetti]

The Deal (part 8)

Previous parts

Words: 2071

Gryffindor's euphoria for finally conquering the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to celebrate with them, and as June approached, the days became serene and sultry, which made Draco even more indisposed than Potter’s satisfied face as the only thing he wanted to do was walk in the meadows and throw himself down on the grass with several pints of frozen pumpkin juice, playing some absent-minded game of Gobstones or watching the huge octopus advancing dreamy on the Lake’s surface with Hermione but she avoided him like the plague so he just studied with Mandy and his friends even though he would’ve greatly preferred the whole matter to be forgotten. Not that it would last much longer: in a short time they would all go home and he had no intention of inviting her to spend even a day at the Manor or to reply to her letters. On the other hand, if he could’ve asked Hermione to spend some time with him, maybe things would’ve settled. But how? If his parents had only caught a glimpse of her curly hair, they would’ve gone mad. The only thing he could do was ask for Pansy’s help even if she seemed to be the only person more nervous than him in the whole castle; even the students who had to do OWLs and NEWTs were more relaxed.

"Buckbeak's appeal is July the 6th." she explained, without even raising her head from the multitude of parchment sheets she was reading. Draco froze: his father must have chosen the last day of exams for a reason. "It’ll be held here." went on Pansy. "Someone from the Ministry and an executioner will come."

So they had already decided, it didn't matter all he, Pansy, Hermione and even Millicent had done to prevent it. Yet there had to be a way to avoid it and Hermione surely knew it.

 The exam week began and an unnatural quiet descended on the castle. On Monday the third year students left Transfiguration for lunch, sad and pale, comparing the results and complaining about the difficulty of the tests, including the transformation of a teapot into a tortoise but quite different things buzzed in her mind. If she had used the Time-Turner she would’ve been able to fix the Buckbeak situation but she would’ve betrayed McGonagall's trust since she had told her to use it only and exclusively to attend multiple lessons at the same time. Obviously if she hadn’t done it immense suffering would’ve hit Hagrid with the strength of a hurricane and she loved her sensible friend too much to stand it, not to mention the fact that she would’ve been the reason why Malfoy's hateful victorious smile would die. It would’ve been a great satisfaction, especially after what they had put her through with Draco, although in the end things had gone wrong for different reasons. And here is the other thought that didn’t allow her to concentrate as she wanted, what she had to reject if she wanted to be able to function like a normal person. She ate quickly, trying not to look at the Slytherin's table, and then ran upstairs again for the Charm exam, in which, as Hermione had imagined, cheering charms were asked. Harry exaggerated a little for the tension so that Ron, who was teaming up with him, had hysterical giggles and had to stay in a quiet place for an hour before being able to perform the spell in turn. After dinner, the students hurried back to the common rooms, not to relax, but to revise Care of the Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy. The next morning Hagrid attended the exam but he seemed worried, as if he was thinking of something else, and Hermione couldn’t blame him. He had prepared a large tub of Flobberworms for the class and he told them they had to be still alive the next hour to pass the test. Since Flobberworms thrived if left alone, it was the easiest exam they ever took, plus it gave Harry, Ron, that after the cheering charm had started talking to her again, but Hermione also suspected it was because she no longer spoke to Draco, and Hermione a chance to talk to Hagrid.

"Beak is a little down," said Hagrid, bending over with the excuse of checking that Harry's Flobberworm was still alive. “He has been locked up for too long. Anyway, we'll know the day after tomorrow, one way or another.”

Hermione’s heart broke hearing those words but she still couldn’t make a decision about what to do since that afternoon there was the Potions’ exam, which was a total disaster since Hermione couldn’t taking her eyes off Draco, it didn’t matter how hard she tried, and he noticed, which seemed to give him the idea of being able to speak to her again.

"You really don't understand, do you?" she asked, before disappearing into the Astronomy tower. On Wednesday morning it was History of Magic’s turn and Hermione wrote everything she knew about the Middle Ages’ witch hunt, longing to be able to being shut in Pansy’s room eating a large box of ice cream. Instead, in the afternoon, there was Herbology in the greenhouses, under a scorching sun, then all back to the common room with burned neck and back, to wish it was already tomorrow at the same time, when all would be over. The penultimate exam, Thursday morning, was Defense against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had concocted the most unusual exam they ever had: a sort of outdoor obstacle course, in which they had to cross a small basin that contained a grindylow, to overcome a series of holes full of red caps, making their way along a path in the swamp ignoring the mischievous advice of a hinkypunk and finally climbing inside an old trunk and fight against a boggart. Hermione did everything perfectly until she got at the last obstacle; after a minute she came out of the trunk crying.

"Hermione!" said Professor Lupin in alarm. "What happens?"

Hermione knew she had simply a boggart in front of her, that that wasn't really Draco and probably he didn't really think those things, but she just couldn't think of anything ridiculous that could make her laugh at that scene. It took a while to calm her down but when she finally regained control of herself, Harry and Ron, who never stopped asking her what she had seen with an extremely worried expression, returned to the castle, where they found Cornelius Fudge, slightly warmed up in his pinstriped cloak , which looked towards the park. At the sight of Harry he greeted him and asked him about the exams while Ron and Hermione, who had never spoken to the Minister of Magic, lingered awkwardly behind him.

"Nice day," said Fudge, glancing at the lake. "What a pity..." He sighed deeply and looked at Harry. “I'm here on an unpleasant mission: the Committee for the Suppression of Dangerous Creatures has requested a witness for the execution of a Hippogriff. And since I already had to come to Hogwarts to see how things are going with Black, they sent me. "

"Does that mean there's already been the appeal?" Ron interrupted, making a step forward.

"No, it's set for this afternoon," said Fudge looking at Ron with curiosity.

"Then you may not have to witness any executions!" said Ron obstinately. "The Hippogriff could even get away with it!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards left the castle and joined him. One was so old that seemed to shrivel up before them and the other was tall and robust, with a thin black mustache. Hermione assumed they were representatives of the Dangerous Creature Suppression Committee, because the first wizard squinted at Hagrid's hut and said in a high-pitched voice: “I'm too old for these things... it's at two o'clock, isn't it?"

The wizard with the black mustache was brushing his thumb against something hanging from his belt; Hermione looked better and saw that it was the blade of a shining ax. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but she nudged him and nodded towards the entrance hall just in time.

"Why did you interrupt me?" said Ron furiously as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "You saw them? They already have the ax ready! This isn’t justice! "

"Ron, your father works for the Ministry, you can't speak to his boss in that tone!" said Hermione but she was upset too, and more than ever reason and feelings fought in her mind. "If this time Hagrid checks our notes and discuss the case properly, they cannot execute Buckbeak .” she said, and she hoped she had put enough conviction in it, because she intended to do something in which they should’ve nothing to do.

 All around the students spoke animatedly, waiting cheerfully for the exams’ end that afternoon but Draco didn’t imitate them: Hermione had approached Pansy and the two girls were talking animatedly trying to maintain a soft tone of voice, a distraction that would’ve been fatal if it hadn’t been Draco to eavesdrop. They talked about breaking the rules, which was very unusual for Hermione, and about doing something that, according to Pansy, could’ve had catastrophic consequences. After the Divination exam, Draco decided to follow them. He would never have expected to find them hidden in the Forbidden Forest’s offshoot, waiting for the executioner to suppress the hippogriff but he would’ve expected less to hear Potter and Weasley’s voice coming from Hagrid’s hut when they were nowhere around.

"What are they doing here?" asked Pansy, who was all trembling. What they were going to do must’ve been really dangerous if she was so tense.

"They’ll come to console Hagrid, I suppose. But this complicates things..." Hermione muttered, and Draco could imagine her concentrated expression.

"We have to let him die, don't we? We have to let him die and take the Cloak away from those two idiots so we can hide from ourselves and..." Pansy began, but Hermione silenced her.

"I can't do it. I can't see him die. We have to leave." and she turned so quickly that Draco didn't have time to hide better, so she saw him. For a moment she seemed surprised but then anger took over.

"Wasn't I clear enough? I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to have anything to do with you..." she began, approaching him with great strides, but Draco covered her mouth just in time so as not to let her be heard from Fudge and Macnair , an old friend of his father.

"Please, let's move." Pansy whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't I do it."

They began to rise again in the depths as the sun went down rapidly, the sky, barely visible between the branches, of a light gray streaked with violet. Draco heard Potter and Weasley’s voice again, then a squeak, finally the unmistakable hiss of an ax, followed by a thump. They had done it. Incredulous and emptied by shock, all three were paralyzed with horror. Then they heard a wild howl behind them.

"Hagrid." murmured Hermione. Without thinking, she started to turn, but Pansy and Draco grabbed her by the arms.

"We can't," said Pansy, white as a rag. "Remember what we have to do..." but before she could finish, the other silenced her. Draco had short, irregular breathing. Were they pondering revenge? And on whom? On the members of the Committee? On the Ministry of Magic in person? Or just on the executioner? Taking it out on such an influential member of wizarding society was a stupid decision and Pansy should’ve known better, if not Hermione herself. Or maybe they wanted... Draco tried not to think about it. Even though she was mad at him and his father wasn't exactly a saint, he was certain that Hermione would never try to hurt his family.

"We should go." said Hermione, with a strange resolve in her eyes. They set off for the castle, advancing slowly so as not to be heard. The light now dimmed quickly. When they were forced to move on

open fields, darkness fell like a spell around them.

"Stand still! Ouch! He bit me!" exclaimed Weasley, who had to be well hidden as the voice attracted the attention of all three but he can’t see the specific source of the sound. Hermione, on her part, must’ve saw something since she went down a dozen steps and seemed to lift an invisible veil, revealing both Potter and Weasley.

"You shouldn't be here." she hissed, apparently not at all surprised by the fact that those two idiots had an Invisibility Cloak. "And you should move and make no noise if you don't want Fudge to see you. Or hear you."

"I found Scabbers again!" exclaimed Weasley, as if he hadn't heard what Hermione had just said. "But he doesn't want to be quiet."

He was actually holding a clearly terrified looking mouse who was shaking with all his might to free himself from his grasp.

"Leave that stupid mouse alone!" snapped Pansy. "As you found it once, you'll find it again."

But the rodent slipped between Weasley's fingers, fell to the ground and fled. In one leap, Hermione’s cat, which no one had seen coming, snapped at his heels and before Potter or Hermione could stop him, Ron took off the Invisibility Cloak and disappeared into the darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned, but he didn’t stop so Hermione and Potter exchanged a glance. It was impossible to run under the Cloak, so he came out and both threw themselves in pursuit, imitated by Draco and Pansy who heard their footsteps resound in front of them, and Weasley's cries against Crookshanks. They would all end up in serious trouble because of a stupid decrepit mouse, and Draco would never have forgiven Weasley’s poor ass if it had happened.

[putschki1969]

Hikaru x SPICE Broadcast 11/8

As promised, here is a rough translation/detailed summary of Hikaru’s live broadcast from today (Nov 08).

The video is currently available in SPICE’s archive but it will be deleted after one week. For everyone who wants to download the interview, here is a google drive link (all credit goes to my friend @mowskyuu​ who kindly sent me the video). Everyone, ENJOY!

Without further ado, let’s get going. 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→ 

We start with Takeshi Kato (TK) introducing himself and his guest Hikaru. TK talks about how this broadcast is going to be about many firsts and about Hikaru‘s upcoming live. Being the nerd she is, Hikaru has prepared a detailed script for herself so she won’t lose track or feel intimidated. Then TK decides to be funny and annoy Hikaru by saying that since they have such a packed schedule he will simply change the entire content of the program so they can talk about anime and games XD

They invite everyone to use the hashtag #HikaruSPICE生放送 on Twitter to ask questions and write comments. Technically people can also comment on Youtube but it’s preferred that everyone uses Twitter. TK once again jokes about abandoning the script and making last minute-changes to mess with Hikaru a little but then he tells her to just relax and say whatever she feels like saying.

Hikaru then introduces her new solo project called H-el-ical// which was officially announced yesterday. TK assumes that the tension must have been quite high and that she must still feel super nervous now that she is doing this public live broadcast. Of course Hikaru confirms this. TK explains that they will have some H-el-ical// songs playing in the background and asks Hikaru what made her want to start this solo project. During her “break-period” she has always had a strong wish of wanting to continue singing, nothing ever changed about that but she had to think a lot about how to continue doing music since she didn’t have a clear idea. So for about half a year she thought about what she wanted to do while working part-time and learning some “life-lessons”/doing some “social studying”. During that time she didn’t write any lyrics although she really wanted to try it (it’s something she has always wanted). She talked a lot with her friends and acquaintances about the different possibilities, if she would be able to find someone who would write/compose music for her (the sort of music she had in her mind) so she could create lyrics for those songs. Then she was introduced to a composer and quickly after she decided to give the whole thing a try. This is how H-el-ical// came to life.

In May her first song got released on Youtube. TK points out that that must have been super weird for her since in the past she had never released music like that. It has always been through CDs or at lives. She must have been super nervous. And YES, she really was. Especially since she wasn’t releasing it under her real name but under the name of H-el-ical// so she had no idea how many people would even listen to that song. After all people were clueless about whose work it was. On the other hand, Hikaru really liked the idea of people coming in with a fresh mind, without any influence and having all these pure impressions.

They then start talking about Hikaru’s stage name H-el-ical// in detail. TK notes that Hikaru’s name was also written with a double slash in yesterday’s announcement. He wonders what the meaning is behind all of that. Hikaru explains that she plans to do her solo work as H-el-ical// and in the meantime she would like to refer to herself as Hikaru// but of course just Hikaru is fine too. For example, she was referred to as simply “Hikaru” in today’s announcement regarding the FictionJunction Station Talk&Live Event.

They begin reading some comments and one viewer points out that the second everyone heard the voice in H-el-ical//’s first song, they all knew for sure that it was Hikaru XD Hikaru laughs and agrees that there probably were some people who knew but they were kind enough to not make direct comments about it to her [I think Hikaru underestimated how many people knew]. We continue with our explanation of Hikaru’s stage name. First of all, “helical” as a normal word means spiral, something that’s always spinning upwards. It also represents a DNA structure which for Hikaru entails life, history and activity. These are the two things she thought about when choosing the word “helical”. Then we have the -el- in the middle which is highlighted. It stands for “elevation”, it’s about progress, about becoming more, about rising above. Last but not least there is the double slash (//) which for Hikaru represents some sort of Q.E.D. = an abbreviation which is placed at the end of a philosophical argument to indicate that the proof or the argument is complete. So to speak it is proof of her existence. This is her simply “being”. TK is impressed by all the thought Hikaru put into this, very otaku-like of her. Hikaru admits that it was very troublesome to come up with all of that. The double slash explanation also applies to her name of course. So Hikaru// literally just means “this is proof of Hikaru existing”.

Hikaru then talks some more about always wanting to sing, that she couldn’t imagine ever stopping. And since this is all so important to her she really wanted her stage name to have a proper meaning behind it. After all, a name is very important. She really put a lot of effort into that.

Back at the time of their first broadcast together Hikaru talked with SPICE and the e plus team because she really wanted to do a live. She told them about the H-el-ical// project, about her collaboration with the composer Gushimiyagi and that she would be joining a new agency. With their help the concert was made possible. SPICE&Co. introduced Hikaru to a couple of people and with just a handful of helpers they managed to make Hikaru’s wish of a concert become reality. Hikaru is still so freaking excited about that.

Hikaru talks about deciding on a setlist and all the other troubles that are related to organising an event like that. TK recalls that even during Kalafina days it was troublesome for Hikaru to do organising stuff like that so it must be so much worse now. Hikaru agrees that she really got to experience all the hardships that come with such a live production. Back in the day Keiko and Wakana would often take on these duties so she felt really grateful but now she had to do it all by herself.

Next up TK mentions the five songs Hikaru has released so far. TK is sure that most of the viewers have already listened to all of them. Hikaru is a bit hesitant, she thinks there will be lots of people who haven’t seen all the MVs because they were released in a relatively short amount of time. They ask the viewers whether or not the have listened to all the songs yet. And OF COURSE, they have!!

A few comments and questions are being read. Nothing exciting except for the person who asks what kind of part-time job Hikaru did during her break. As she already alluded to before, she wanted to experience life properly. In the past she had only ever worked at casual restaurants and such. While that gave her some social skills she wanted to try something else. Since she really loves children she decided to work as a nursery teacher. There she took care of toddlers and children up to five years old. She really loves their innocence. TK is surprised that Hikaru managed to be a waitress in the past, judging by her personality, that must have been really hard for her. Yes, Hikaru confirms that it was hard but she also kinda liked it. For example, she really loved recommending the best dishes and such. But yeah, getting to watch over these little kiddies was a completely new and amazing experience for her. She really learned a lot. She is surprised by how different their way of thinking is and how unique they all are, even the very little ones. We interrupt our talk with a bit of tapioca milk tea because what would Hikaru be without her tapioca milk tea??? XD

Viewers suggest that she should have worked at a tapioca place. Haha, yeah, Hikaru agrees, that would have been amazing. Hikaru then says that they sang a lot at her nursery, that was super fun. And she feels really inspired by that experience. For example, her third song “splendore” was very heavily influenced by the children she worked with. TK thinks it’s interesting that her songs all have a different language title but they will discuss that later. For now they wanna focus on Hikaru’s song writing experience. Hikaru says that it was all about expressing the images and world views that came to mind when she listened to Gushimiyagi’s melodies. She would talk a lot with him and listen to the melody repeatedly to get inspired. TK talks about old Kalafina times, at recordings Hikaru would always dress according to the image she wanted to express, does she still do that? Yes, she does still do that!

Now they focus on the individual songs and have the MVs playing in the background. TK says that her first song “pulsation” had a strong impact on him. Hikaru uses the opportunity to give a shout-out to her amazing artist because her videos are always gorgeous. TK notices that all of her five songs have a completely different atmosphere, they also feel very different to Kalafina’s songs. “pulsation” is about her relationship with music and how her life has been affected (is still being affected) by it. There is a lot of power in the melody, it makes you want to sprint forward so that’s how her lyrics came into existence. It’s about feeling lost and eventually finding your way so you can move on. Hikaru then talks about wanting variety in her songs, she doesn’t want to stick to a single genre, she also likes experimenting with different languages for her titles. She thinks that makes things much more interesting. After all, she has followers from all over the world with so many different interests. It’s in part thanks to all of us that she has made it this far so of course she would want to be versatile and open for everything. This is why she chose the different song titles. Cue to pronunciation guide. How does Hikaru pronounce all of her songs? [it’s kinda funny to see her struggle XD] She goes through all the titles, pronounces them and says what they mean in Japanese.

pulsation => English

Avaricia  => Spanish (Greed) Hikaru says she is always very greedy, in a sense that she can never get enough, she always wants more, she wants to go further.

Splendore => Italian (Sparkling) As she mentioned before, this song was heavily inspired by the children around her. It’s full of child-like wonder and innocence. It has a very fantastical atmosphere.

Amanhecer => Portuguese (Dawn) When she first heard the melody she immediately had to think of quietness and the water surface. There was a sense of love so that’s what she wrote about.

yolcu => Turkish (Traveler) For this song she wanted a very foreign/Middle Eastern/exotic vibe so of course the title had to be a little more exotic as well.

Hikaru hopes that the audience will find something they like among all her songs, everyone has different taste so it’s hard to lke everything but hopefully she can appeal to us with some of her work. These songs are all super special to her and she couldn’t even decide which one she likes most. This is the first time she has ever created something, properly expressed herself, put so much of herself into the music. She is very proud and happy. She is even more happy to hear all the fans saying that they love each and every song and they can’t choose.

One fan asks if Hikaru came up with her logo and yes, she did. But someone else made it a little fancier for her. TK then wants to know whether or not it was hard to record all these songs by herself. Yes, it was!! Some of the songs have different harmonies and she had to sing all of them. She already wonders how she is gonna do it at the live, it’s gonna be super hard to perform some of these songs. Speaking of the live, it’s time to announce the title!! *drumrolls please* The title is => H-el-ical// LIVE 2019  紡 -TSUMUGU- [spinning]

Some info about the date, the changed time, the venue and 2nd round of ticket application. Apparently Hikaru has tried really hard to talk with the live team to make some more room for the audience. Usually the venue has a capacity for around 2400 people, they are making more room by using space that’s usually reserved for equipment and stuff. Hikaru feels like she might have been a bit of a pain in the ass for the organisers but she just wants as many people as possible to be able to attend the concert. So everyone who is still looking for a ticket, please be sure to apply! Application period ends on November 17. Hikaru won’t just be singing her original songs but also some covers and then some...*hint hint* TK asks about why Hikaru chose that particular title for her concert. Hikaru says that from now onwards she would like to share many things with everyone as H-el-ical// (which as we have already established means “spiral”) so “spinning” seemed very fitting to convey that feeling. Also, who she is right now is spun out of everything she has done in the past ten years - including her acitivities as part of Kalafina. So she is just continuing the spinning so to speak. Hikaru can’t wait to sing all of her songs for us. Then we have some more random comments by fans...

Transition to live goods. TK says that he is already looking forward to Hikaru’s Goods Corner since she always did such a good job at their Kalafina lives. We can expect standard goods and stuff that has been suggested to her on twitter. There will also be one item with visuals, a pamphlet!! YAY! And the most important live good...a limited release of H-el-ical//’s first CD!!! BANZAI! Since it’s only a limited number, the CDs might be sold out quickly but she hopes lots of people can get it. There are 8 songs in total on the CD. She has already published five of them but since she wants to sing a lot of songs at the live, she also recorded three more songs which she put on the CD as well. Fans are saying she will surely sell a ton of CDs, someone suggests she should bring 20,000 copies to the live, Hikaru isn’t really convinced that she could ever sell that amount. She says there will probably be around 2,000 copies for sale. Further infos about live goods and such will be released at a later date. But fans can prepare themselves for about ten different items so everyone should look forward to that. Some fans suspect that the goods corner might take very long with so many goods XD Everyone is also super curious about the CD cover. Hikaru says it will be very simple, typical Hikaru style.

Then some info about Hikaru taking part in the FictionJunction Station Fan Club event. Hikaru is very excited to stand on stage together with the members of FictionJunction. After all at the time of the event it will be two years since she last stood together on stage with Keiko.

TK asks what went through her head during her break. Hikaru was hoping people would not forget about her. And the wish to continue singing kept going through her head. She was very confident about that. She spent a lot of time wondering how to bring her dreams to life. She feels super grateful right now because so much has already been realised. This past year she has learned so much that’s important for her life. Of course she also learned a lot during her Kalafina days but there were just a lot of things she didn’t have time for back then so that one-year-break was a great opportunity to learn many things about herself. She originally started Twitter to give something back to the fans who are loyally waiting for her. She is very happy about that so she just wants to share those feelings with everyone by posting regularly. Hikaru goes on to explain that she went from all her life being about Kalafina to doing pretty much nothing so she had a lot of time to think about everything. This was another reason she started her Twitter account. She wanted to grow as a person and do things she might have not done in the past.

They then read lots of random comments related to Kalafina since there is no denying that Hikaru’s fans are pretty much all from her Kalafina days, Hikaru doesn’t really say much, I guess she doesn’t know what she is supposed to say. It’s slightly awkward but yeah...Someone then asks if Hikaru can do a birthday greeting for all the viewers who are celebrating their b-day today. She does! TK then realises that it’s Hikaru’s twitter anniversary since she started her account last autumn. It’s also slowly time to wrap up the video. TK informs us that the video will be archived for one week and then it will be deleted (after getting a confirmation by Hikaru’s manager in the back). People are asking for Hikaru to sing something but unfortunately, there is no time. We will get lots of her singing at the live XD A fan asks her to come to Toyama to do a live. She REALLY wants to but it’s gonna take a while. There is some talk about when she first started Twitter and no one believed it was her so she had to upload a video to prove her identity.

Hikaru has prepared a final message for the fans. from now on she hopes to create lots of music as H-el-ical// and she wants to share it with all of us. Her first step in this new direction is the live on Dec 1. In the future she would like to create something from that base of H-el-ical//* and continue onwards with everyone [*Note: Hikaru mistakenly says Kalafina here instead of H-el-ical//. Obviously she is still used to saying this sort of stuff with Kalafina in mind XD She is later corrected] She is super embarrassed. OF COURSE she meant H-el-ical//’s base. With 10 years of Kalafina there is no way you can say that’s just a base! 10 years is a lot of baggage after all. She was obviously referring to her first steps as H-el-cal//.

Meanwhile they are once again promoting Hikaru’s upcoming live and teasing another live in the near future. Hikaru says that her agency might already be planning something *hint hint*

SPICE have prepared a little present for one of the viewers. H-el-ical//’s very first signature. For one lucky winner. Looking something like this but written by Hikaru of course.

To be eligible for this giveaway you have to follow the @spice_anige account on Twitter. You will be informed via DM if you won. Then some final promo work and a final greeting last by Hikaru.

[voicesfromthelight]

Summarizing Everything My Guides Have Taught So Far

Dear Readers,

I have been quiet on this blog for awhile, as my day job has taken up a lot of my time and attention. My energy has been somewhat low, and Salvador has been giving me more tough love than usual about my methodology, encouraging me to wean myself away from relying on my guides excessively and shift the bulk of my work to long-form, direct channeling. However, my guides have also been planting the idea in my mind that now is a wonderful time to go over everything we have been learning about together. They are encouraging me to express everything I can remember of their teachings in a set of simple, to-the-point concepts. It is almost as if this is a necessary step for me to take before moving on to the next stage of our work together. So, here I go! I will divide these concepts into a few different categories, according to topic. We will start with the most basic topic of Love vs. Fear.

On Love and Fear 1: On Love and Fear As The Basic Polarities of Human Experience

The basic polarity of motivation within the world of duality that we exist in through the human experience can be summarized as one existing between the emotions of love and fear. These two forces define how our creative energy and life force express themselves at a most fundamental level. All other emotions are permutations of them - often occurring when fear or love is filtered through a mental construct. Permutations of love include trust, joy, gratitude, excitement, non-attachment, non-judgment, forgiveness, compassion, nurturing, courage, inspiration, acceptance, humor, eloquence, faith, persistence and patience. Permutations of fear include hate, disappointment, disgust, jealousy, despair, sadness, worry, addiction, possessiveness, bitterness, numbness, insecurity and judgment.

During the course of our lives, and throughout our various experiences, it is important to be aware of which of these two emotions is motivating our decisions at any given time. This mindfulness makes it easier to exercise our free will in a way that will optimize our happiness and personal growth through steering us into actions and reactions that are rooted in love.

One way to discern the nature of your motivation in a decision you are about to make, and then assess what the best course of action will be, is to engage in the following exercise.

Ask yourself the following questions:

1. Is the decision I am about to make rooted in love or fear?

2. Is the decision I am about to make an action, or a reaction? Which of these two is the most loving manifestation of free will, at this moment?

3. Is the most loving decision I can make at this point to take action, or to refrain from taking action?

4. Is the action, reaction, or inaction I am about to take one of surrender, or of resistance? Of these two possibilities, which one is the most loving manifestation of free will, at this moment?

Asking these questions will make you more aware of how you are attuning yourself to your potential for exercising your free will in a loving way. It doesn’t mean you always have to choose love, of course. But it will help guide you when you so choose.

On Love and Fear 2: On Illusion and Invitation

“Think of fear as an invitation. One you are never obligated to answer.”

- Natalie

One of the great sources of self-inflicted human suffering is that we tend to forget that fear itself is not a thing. It is an idea of a thing. It is not reality. However, if we allow ourselves to remain in fear, it shapes our thoughts, which in turn shape our actions, as well the reactions our environment has to us, thereby eventually manifesting into a creation. If we think and act like there is a monster under the bed even when there isn’t, what is the practical difference within our emotional reality, and our resulting actions, between an imaginary monster and a real one? Yes, fear is an emotion that exists in order to help us survive and keep us safe, but it is important to practice discernment in figuring out when it has taken on a life of its own, and is causing manifestations we do not want.

Love can also be an invitation. Every experience is an invitation to love more, and in new ways. Contrary to fear, love is a thing. It is the very essence of our inner being, and the fabric of existence.

On Love And Fear 3: On Disentangling The Two Emotions

Love and fear govern our creative power. When seeking to manifest what we want in our lives, it is important to work to disentangle the interference of fear from the loving emotions that motivate us to create the things we do. Things will go much more smoothly that way. Where you feel insecurity, lack or mistrust, there is fear somewhere in the picture. Try to pick apart what you are feeling and why. Then, work to disentangle the fear from the love.

Within every negative experience, we can find ways to illuminate fear-based constructs with the light of love. If the darkness is too dense in one part of the experience to bring in love, there is an opportunity for that love to find its way in through another avenue. For instance, when someone hurts you so deeply that you cannot bring yourself to forgive them, there is part of you that cannot forgive yourself for what occurred, either. So, work, at first, to forgive yourself, and that will be the “chink in the armour” through which love will seep in. It’s like the Leonard Cohen song: “There is a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.”

Next up, I will cover some lessons on human identity, discernment in relationships, and how those relate healing, manifestation and interpersonal harmony.

On The Human Personality 1: Cumulative Experience, Memory and Manifestation

Our fundamental nature as souls is that of a divine spark, a drop in an ocean, or a facet on the jewel of Source, or God-consciousness. One may observe the individual facet, but each one is part of an undivided, greater whole. (More on that later.) Our souls have many levels to them, and are interlinked with increasingly broad and fluid permutations of consciousness the further “up” we go in our spiritual expansion.

We are incarnated in human form in order to learn lessons through our experiences that our Divine Selves, who are the observers of our experiences, have set for us, and we may choose to learn either through love or fear. On a divine level, at any given time, we are living one incarnation of a soul that is interlinked with a higher consciousness that experiences many lifetimes. There are also soul groups that may choose to incarnate with one another or meld together on a spiritual level, but this is not something the teachings that have come through have touched upon in detail, yet. The guides have not spoken much, yet, either, about the nature of past lives or reincarnation, but they have explained the following to me about the personalities we assume within a given incarnation:

The personalities we form throughout our lifetimes are a result of the experiences and memories that we accumulate as we go along. These memories also encompass the things we learn from our families, our communities, and the history that is instilled in us through our culture, as well as epigenetics. How we process and react to these experiences and the things that we inherit from our surroundings, shapes who we become. We can choose to integrate, reject, release or cling to any given concept, mental construct, emotion or memory that results from these things. This is why Ves says that “History repeats itself within your vibration for as long as you allow it to.” When we become mindful of the way in which our present Selves have been formed, we become more free to release anything we are carrying from the past that is causing us dis-ease or unhappiness. The fewer burdens we carry with us, the more free we are to heal and manifest new things in our lives. The way to release the past is to bless it, forgive it, and bring love into it any way you can.

The same concept applies to humanity, collectively. Any healing we do as a civilization needs to happen at a level of releasing past dysfunction and any constructs that perpetuate the traumas we have collectively inflicted on one another. This needs to be a collective decision, but it happens at the level of each individual. Every individual that makes the decision to release animosity, rancor, vengefulness or cruelty, is part of the great transformation that can change civilizations. So, remember your power! Every action and decision you make is a like a stone thrown into water, that may create waves rippling out endlessly into the universe.

On The Human Personality 2: Mindfulness of Cumulative Experience in Forming Relationships

Because we are all products of our previous experiences, and all have different “agendas” for the particular incarnation we are living through, at any given time, two or more people will be in different parts of their journeys here on earth, with different wants and needs. When meeting a new person, either in a fleeting encounter or in forming a long-term bond, it is important to be mindful of where one is in one’s journey oneself, and where the other person is. What are you carrying with you from your history? What are they carrying, and why? Try to be mindful of what your own wants and needs are at this point in time, where you want to go moving forward, and what you are hoping to gain out of your interaction with the other person. Also be mindful of what you perceive the other person’s wants and needs to be. Are they able to give you what you want or need out of the interaction without compromising their own wants and needs? Once you have figured out what they highest purpose might be for meeting the other person at this exact point in time, think: “How can we bring out the best in each other, while respecting each other’s wants and needs?” If you can stay true to each individual, you will bless the highest purpose for your encounter, and not be disappointed in attempting to get something out of the interaction or relationship that they are not capable or willing to give.

On The Human Personality 3: The Picnic and Pie Model of Exchanging Energy

Another important concept in forming human relationships is the exchange of time, attention, affection and energy. The metaphor my guides have led me to is that of a giant picnic to which everyone brings their own pie, the pie being their energy, their attention, their affection and their life force.

At this picnic, in the process of interacting with each other and sharing each other’s company, people will exchange pieces of their pie. Everyone has their own preferences. Some people want to sit in a corner of the park an eat all of their pie alone. Some people give away all their pie and don’t ask for anything in return. Some people will eat everyone else’s pie (either of a particular person, or a little of everybody’s), but not give any of their own. Some people will exchange pieces of their pie equally with everyone they spend time with, in return for equal amounts, or give one person the bulk of their pie, and fill themselves up with a lot of little bites from a number of other people’s pie. During this very long picnic, the equilibrium of the economy of exchanging pie will determine whether a person eventually goes hungry, starves to death, is satisfied, or gets overstuffed with pie.

Think of every relationship and interaction you have, day to day, as an exchange of pie. There are people in your life with whom you will exchange small bites of pie. There are people who will eat your pie, and not put any of theirs on your plate. The amount of pie you exchange with a person may vary over the course of your relationship depending on how close you are or how central to your life they are. Overall, are these exchanges adding up to a sense of nourishment and balance? Are you going hungry, or tired of only eating your own pie? Do you like to eat many different kinds of pie, or only a few? If you are going hungry, is there someone who is eating more than their fair share of your pie? How can you change these interactions to be more equal exchanges?

Next up, some concepts having to do with manifestation, and the future.

Manifestation 1: Believe It Before It Happens

One concept my guides keep reiterating over and over is that in order to create an experience you want, you must believe it is possible, and have trust in its manifestation before it happens. This aligns you with it, defines it more clearly, and opens you up to it. Yes, there are many factors that go into the manifestation of the things we want, and not all of them are solely up to us, but when we fuel our creations with clear intention and excitement, we are at our most powerful.

Manifestation 2: From Thought To Word To Creation

“Your thoughts shape our creative energy. Your words further direct and amplify it. Choose your words wisely.”  

- Salvador

Manifestation 3: On Creating The Future

At any given time, like an ant crawling slowly in a particular direction, we are on a trajectory leading to a particular future experience. Every decision we make through our free will either keeps us moving in the same direction, or adjusts our course in a way which might not be readily apparent a few steps ahead, but might land us in a completely different place several miles down the road. It is the pattern of these course adjustments that determines which future trajectory ends up manifesting into our experience. This is why it is important to be mindful of the small decisions we make day to day, as well as the larger ones, and to think ahead about where we want to end up. It is also the reason why when the guides predict the future, it is based on an understanding of the general pattern of our progress on a particular trajectory, and why the future may always still change, based on a correction of course. The future is malleable, and mostly subject to free will. What future do you want to create?


And now, a few words on Blessing and Forgiveness.

Blessing and Forgiveness: 


Blessing and Forgiveness are two sides of the same coin. Blessing can be an action of proclaiming the divine in any given thing, an act of creation in proclaiming the manifestation of a given thing, and an act of healing in raising the darkness into light. Forgiveness is a blessing that clears the way for the light to enter into the darkness. Both are powerful acts of spiritual transformation. This is why “I bless my past, I bless my present, I bless my future.” is one of the most powerful healing mantras I have been given.

When you bless someone our something, you lift both them, and yourself, into alignment with your divine essence. At any moment, you can choose to affirm or deny the divine within yourself and others.

Now, some words on channeling.

On Connecting with Spirit Guides and Channeling Guidance:

Any form of channeling, mediumship and communion with higher guidance takes place by forging a connection between yourself and your spirit team through raising your personal vibration to a level that resonates with the frequency band your guides inhabit. You raise your vibration, your spirit guides lower theirs, and the connection is made where your two vibrations meet. This is why practicing gratitude, love, laughter, excitement, joy and compassion is the most important thing you can do to open yourself up to higher guidance. You want to raise your vibration as high as possible in order to reach up beyond the density of the physical realm. Gratitude and excitement are especially important here.

After raising your vibration emotionally, it is important to set your intention to connect with your spirit guides, as well as for the nature and integrity of the guidance you will receive. Set the intention to connect only to your highest, most loving and wise guides, or if you are looking to connect to person who has passed on, to that person.


All mediumship and channeling must take place through an open heart and quieted mind in order to be as clear and true as possible. Practice listening with all of your senses, and open your heart through love, self-care, compassion, and joyful activities.

Psychic knowing comes through the heart. The intellectual mind has the potential to interfere in this, and cause misinformation. This is why it is best to set your intentions for a reading, and go through any mental hangups, before going into meditation. That way, when you connect to your guides, you can rest assured they will already know what you might be worried about, and you can focus on receiving the guidance without judgment. In practice, this means that every time I take on a new client, or am about to go into a channeling session, I take a moment to mentally connect to my guides, introduce the subject of the reading and any questions we may have for them, and then wait for awhile before going into the channeling itself. This bypasses the fear, and allows them to respond without having to get through the mental interference of asking questions which may have feelings of worry attached to them, which would otherwise cause a dip in our emotional vibration.

Try to incorporate the lessons your learn through channeling into words and actions both within the channeling process itself, and in everyday life. This shows the guides that you appreciate what they are bringing through, which will in turn free you up to learn new lessons and strengthen your connection through the mutual trust and love that is built up over time. One of the ways I do this is that I allow my opening meditations, prayers and affirmations that I use to lift myself into the channeling state to evolve with every relevant teaching. Such “add-ons” have included inviting my guides to “come close,” verbally expressing my great desire to receive their guidance, and expressing gratitude several times during my prayers.

Finally, here are some teachings that came through for me a long time ago, in a formative lucid dream, in which I encountered a Divine Aspect which - despite my pagan identity at the time - expressed itself as the personality of  the Christ. There is some Judeo-Christian language associated with these teachings, but please think of these concepts as more universal than the language implies.

On The Divine Feminine, Shakti, Shechinah, and The Holy Spirit

The first idea introduced to me in this dream is that despite its perceived patriarchal nature, it is an error to think that the concept of the Divine Feminine does not exist in Christianity. However, its true essence is not found the persona of the Virgin Mary. It is The Holy Spirit. The essence of The Holy Spirit is the same as that of Shakti in Hinduism and Shechinah in Judaism: The dynamic, creative force and Divine Presence without which God would remain pure potential, or static. (I have later come to understand that this static, pure potential is the Divine Masculine, known in Judaism as Adam Kadmon - a concept communicated to me clairaudiently by Melinda Vail in a reading she gave to me.)

On Oneness

The second concept introduced in this dream was the one of each individual as a facet on the Jewel of God. We are all facets on the same jewel. This is why we should “love our neighbor” as ourselves. There is no true separation.

On “Christ Consciousness” in All Beings

Finally, I was told that I may choose to see “Christ” (defined as Christ Consciousness - the awareness of our essential oneness with God, the Divine Spark), within myself, or within others. To become aware of this in all beings is the path to freedom. This concept is analogous to “moksha” in Hinduism.

A couple of bonus concepts:

In the metaphysical sense, almost anything can be a form of energy. Love is an energy. Fear is an energy. Respect is an energy. Even information is a form of energy! The nature of energy is that of movement and creation. It can be both focused and generated through attention as well as intention. Think about it!

When we channel and work with spirit guides, it is not only we who are in the process of learning and lifting ourselves into alignment with our Higher Selves. Our guides are also being elevated spiritually, and learning through us. Everything we learn benefits the greater collective!

I think that’s it for now. Of course, there are many more specific teachings that you may, dear readers, explore throughout this blog, but in terms of boiling it all down, this is the best I can do. I can’t wait to hear what my guides have in store, next!

Love,

Emily, Salvador, Natalie, Ava, Ves, and the rest of the Team

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Genesis As A Love Story

This is the eye of the hurricane, this is the only Way I can protect my his legacy…

Perceptor stared out the wide window of the observatory-turned-homestead he and Brainstorm had spent the MTO’s final years in. The sky looked dark yet burning, the wind howled instead of whispered.

Something knocked at the door.

They were scuffed and battered- lost and trembling.

They pleaded to be let in; their vocoder corroded and raspy and their hands worn down. Perceptor remained silent, tilting his helm and narrowing his good optic before he finally spoke.

“Why did you come here?”

“You saved one of us, once. You loved one of us, once. Please.”

His optic widened. He noticed the haphazard plating, the twitch of unfit cabling and beckoned the shivering form in before glaring into the cloying evening as it fell. The door shut like an executioner’s axe falling into the chopping block.

Like a guillotine hitting its mark.

They were an MTO, like Brainstorm had been. Born into the fires of the end of the war off an assembly line into a mission that was dead in the water. Off planet factories, hidden springs of life and hazards unknown and Perceptor handed them a fuel ration in silence.

“He called you the Least Warlike Autobot.”

“I was once known as that, yes.”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere safer to go when they raided the facility.”

Perceptor rested his chin on his own hands, thinking. Thinking to the times Brainstorm’s nightmares threw both their sparks into a death-tone spiral; thinking about the whispered confessions from a one time weaponsmaker, a coffin-filler.

“....How many of you are there.”

“Ten of us, the final half-batch.”

“Can you contact them.”

“...Yes, of course- they’re my unit, I-”

“Comm them, now. Give them these coordinates. Tell them to look for the observatory dome, and to come by cover of night.”

The mech looked at Perceptor in shock, mouth opening and closing wordlessly as The Least Warlike Autobot smiled tiredly.

“I did not love one of you once- I still love him. And this... This is something I will do, in his name. Because its the right thing to do. Because it’s what he’d want, I think.”

‘I want to make a DIFFERENCE, Percy!’, echoed in the sniper’s helm, ‘There has to be more than making assembly line weapons, assembly line people... Always war and more war- what about LIVING?’

And so, Perceptor took his place back at the wide, wide window to keep watch. Hours passed, he paced and fueled and calmed the nervous twitches of his new housemate.

The first one arrived in a clatter of unfamiliar wings and wide optics; the scorches of blaster-fire on his plating.

The second arrived with a limp- a cracked Autobrand and wobbling as they stood.

And then a third. A fourth. A ninth. A twelfth. 

As days began to pass in blurs of color and sunlight Perceptor welcomed them with a quiet smile. Datapads were activated that had spent aeons in dim silence; lines of styluses slid over screens and there was clattering and clinking in the unused laboratory again.

They called him Sir, and their ranks grew.

They called him Commander, and their ranks grew.

And then, as Perceptor looked over the Observatory that had grown to house almost a hundred and thirteen MTOs from both sides of a broken war, he smiled his tired smile again.

“Call me Professor.”, he said softly, “Call me Professor; and call yourselves students. Scientists. Medics. Cybertronians.”

Word began passing around- to MTOs who feared going out in the daylight; to mechs who called themselves neutral but feared the gazes of old warriors.

And so, the ranks grew. The Observatory grew. The eyes of history turned their fickle gaze towards the one-time homestead as another construction project began.

As a sign, humble yet clean, was raised. As grounds were slowly acquired and purchased and cultured.

Genesis Academy.

The first ten graduated in a simple ceremony- no badges, no sashes, with only their fellow students and a few of their Professor’s friends in attendance. It was First Aid; shuttled in from medical duties scattered across broken galaxies, who painted the first new medic’s sigil upon the pauldron of the nervous First Graduate.

It was Minimus, chest puffed proudly as he saw his two newest apprentices bow low to him before taking the Oath of the New Accord.

It was Drift, soft-opticked for the first time since the war ended who greeted three brightly smiling mechs; packed and ready to follow him into the newly-budding cities as planners and guides.

Perceptor stood with a wide smile, flanked on either side by a new scientist and teacher.

The applause was soft, almost intimate. Perceptor adjusted the spectacles he now wore in place of his old reticule and his backstrut creaked. And then someone in the little crowd turned, and jogged towards the ‘entrance’ of the ‘campus’ grounds.

A dozen new faces, wary and nervous, looked back.

“Professor! New students!”

Perceptor glanced up, and stepped down from the short grandstand built for the small graduation. Rodimus greeted him at the gate with a debonair smile he hadn’t worn in longer than memory.

“I found some new faces, Perce. Got the room?”

Perceptor, as always, thought back to the first time Brainstorm slunk into the lab. Silent and shy and hesitant and wondering who would fire bitter words at him first.

“Always have room, Roddy. Always will. Welcome, students, to Genesis Academy. Let’s get you started.”

One of the faces twisted into disbelief, “But... But we’re CONS.”

Perceptor met their gaze, “Does that matter?”

Silence.

“The answer is no.”, he continued,”This is Genesis Academy, this is MY academy. There are no Bots or Cons here- there are students, and today there are graduates. Come with me- there is a celebration to be had, and then we will begin studies in the morning.”

Twelve hesitant frames followed the sniper-turned-science teacher to the crowd of brighter faces and smiles. A bellow of recognition, a shriek of glee- Perceptor glanced over, seeing a second-stage student bowl a new arrival over with wordless joy.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, HALF THE UNIT’S COMMS WENT DOWN-”

Steps creaked as Perceptor rose to the grandstand again and faced the crowd.

“Welcome to the new students, and congratulations to our graduates!”, he said, his university-accented baritone carrying over the gathered Cybertronians, “To my graduates- It makes my spark jump its orbit to see how far you have come- battered and beaten but never broken, all the way to rank and title!”

Ten chestplates swelled in pride.

“I know, deep in my processor- that you will do us all proud. Every single one of us- even the ones who are not present.”

Perceptor cleared his throat, optic dimming.

“All I will ask of you, as a final assignment- do not forget. Do not forget what you saw, what you lived. Do not forgive needlessly, but do not carry grudges longer than you need them.”

A moment of silence, of helms tilted down in respect.

“Now, with my blessing- congratulations on completing your education under my tutelage.”

The First Graduate stepped forward, “A cheer for the Professor!”

Perceptor jumped slightly at the dull roar that rumbled over the grounds; surprise replaced with a fond smile as he swore he heard Brainstorm’s voice in the crowd.

And then, the heavy thud of Whirl and Cyclonus’s steps.

Perceptor froze, and then turned- curious and confused. The last two of his students stood proud and tired and each with one of Whirl’s claws on their shoulders.

“May I present, Sniproscope-”

“PROFESSOR, you mean.”

“Whatever, Percy. But may I present- the first Artisans of New Cybertron; certified by yours truly. And my mech- they have one hell of a final project for ya.”

Both students stepped forward, each bearing one side of a holoscreen projector display.

“Another cheer for the Professor!”, called the one on the left.

The roar returned, as expected.

“And three cheers for Brainstorm of Kimia!”

Perceptor’s spark froze as the projection flared to life....

“Hiya Perce.”

The hologram grinned, popping it’s mask off and showing a crooked smile Perceptor missed more than he could ever say. Holo-Brainstorm laughed weakly.

“I can feel my spark going, Perce. I can feel it. So I’m recording this for you, and hiding it where you won’t think to look until you need it- or until I’m needed again.”

Perceptor’s hand shakily went to cover his mouth, and Drift moved like a flash of snowfall to hold him steady.

“Ratch is gone, and I know it hurt you to say goodbye to him. I could see it in your optic- and I knew one day that look would come back when they lowered me down. Hopefully you remembered what I wanted after all the fancy stuff was done.”

The hologram snorted a laugh, “Fire me into the unknown, and all that.”

A cleared throat, and Holo-Brainstorm stood tall.

“But.... In the event my projector plans can be. Well. Deciphered....”

The students puffed their chests proudly.

“It didn’t hurt, Perceptor. I promise. It couldn’t- I was with you, and that was all I needed. I lived my life, full and grand as I wanted it to be....”

Brainstorm’s smile recreated far too accurately.

“Come here, Percy. I hope, if you’re seeing this, and it’s built the way it needs to be.... I hope this works.”

Perceptor walked forward slowly as the hologram opened its arms. He stepped into the embrace, expecting the buzz of electricity when those arms closed around him-

And then he didn’t.

Firm and so close to real it broke his spark as the tears he had swallowed down since the funeral dripped from his optic- feeling Brainstorm’s faceplates against neckcables.

“I love you, Percy. Don’t close yourself away, okay?”, the hardlight hologram whispered, “There’s still so much to do in a brand new world.”

A soft laugh.

“Maybe start a school or somethin’. You always had a knack for teaching hard lessons... Sometimes with a whack to the helm. I gotta go now, I can hear you upstairs settling into the berth after making it again. I’ll see you on the other side one day; but not too soon, got it?”

A last squeeze, and the hum of the hardlight projection faded away like stardust.

The first new Artisan stepped forward.

“I was able to find most of the plans he hid away, Professor. I... If you grant your blessing, I can-”

“Build them all.”, whispered Perceptor, “Every last one of them. Put them in the world. For me. For him.”

The second New Artisan stepped forward, pulling a datapad from their subspace with what looked like a added memory drive, “I wasn’t much help with the building- but... here at the academy, I learned to love. Well. Writing. And I want to show you the first new title for New Cybertron.”

Perceptor held out his hands, breathing deep and taking the datapad and tapping the screen. It hummed softly to life.

“Genesis As A Love Story In Equations - Or, The Biography of Brainstorm of Kimia; and the Memoirs of His Conjunx and Fellow Crewmates.”, read Perceptor, his voice breaking softly as the words flowed out.

An awkward laugh, “It’s... a clunky title, but. I still have some drafting to do.”

Perceptor looked up, optic blurry and Drift’s hand on his shoulder strong and comforting.

“Thank you.”, he whispered, “From myself.... and Brainstorm. Don’t let them forget him.”

“I won’t- WE won’t.”, was the answer, “He was OUR Genesis; he was the First of us.”

Perceptor exvented softly, his optic closing peacefully as the final words passed from his processor to his spark.

“He’ll never, ever be left behind again.”

[harbourviewwithnova-blog]

Staying in a situation where control is constantly being applied means one will lose the ability to think for themselves, and will instead always take their cues from their partner in an attempt to avoid negative emotions.

Abuse of any kind is complicated and difficult to understand, navigate, and identify, but this is especially true for emotional abuse. Emotional abuse can involve extremely sophisticated — and more importantly, toxic — game-playing, like inconsistent, unpredictable displays of affection or love (there’s a firm line between jealousy and possessiveness, for example). And while the warning signs can seem more ambiguous, psychological and emotional abuse can be just as damaging.

According to Beverly Engel, author of The Emotionally Abusive Relationship, the parameters are clear: “Emotional abuse is defined as any nonphysical behaviour or attitude that is designed to control, subdue, punish, or isolate another person through the use of humiliation or fear.”

Often times, the emotionally abusive relationships are more subtle, she explains. “The other thing is that a lot of times in an abusive relationship, it’ll start out wonderful, great, and fabulous, and the problems evolve very slowly over time so that it gets worse and worse and worse, and each time you’re getting more adapted to [the negative patterns] so that it gets more difficult to [see as well as to leave].”

If you eventually find yourself taking their emotional outbursts as proof of how intensely they care about you, because if they didn’t care, they wouldn’t get so angry — right? You’re likely in the throws of an emotionally abusive power struggle.

Covert Narcissism and Abuse

Abusers can convince you that they are treating you this way to “help” you, because they know better.

Most abusers put a lot of effort into telling you how wonderful they are. They are “wonderful” people yet their own family walk in fear of them. They are superior human beings yet they may have a problematic history of mediocrity, failure or drama. They are so outstanding that they are met with hostility rather than acclaim. They are so outstanding that they meet with universal jealousy. They exert an irresistible animal magnetism over the opposite sex (despite all evidence to the contrary) .

Vulnerability and low self-esteem are at the core of the narcissistic abuser. If you find yourself in a position where you can question their thoughts or opinions or you aren’t doing exactly as they expect you to, they could be feeling the effects of a narcissistic injury (ego based fear of being “found out”). A narcissistic injury occurs when narcissists react negatively to perceived or real criticism or judgment, boundaries placed on them, and/or attempts to hold them accountable for harmful behaviour. Although they may not show it outwardly, criticism may haunt these individuals and may leave them feeling humiliated, degraded, hollow and empty. They react with disdain, rage, or defiant counterattacks.

The lack of accountability in the narcissist is astounding. When you expect they will see the error of their ways and apologize, you will find them defending themselves. Somehow, they find a way to make it all about you and it becomes your fault: “You made me react that way.” “You did this or that to create my behaviour, I wouldn’t have to do this if you didn’t act the way you do.”

The Perfect Target & Emotional Manipulation

Sowhat personality type is more susceptible to this form of abuse?

People pleasers and perfectionists have a compelling need to conform to the expectations of others. With their shaky self-worth (which is made shakier by their abuser), they strive to behave in a way they think the other will favour. People pleasers see an idealized self in their irrational imagination; they struggle with self-criticism and anxiety and ultimately have a perpetual need to win the approval of their partner. Ultimately, they are pressured to think, feel, and behave in a way that is not their own, molding themselves into something they are not, being careful not to “rock the boat”.

Some individuals enjoy “intellectual bullying” their people pleasing partner by presuming to be the expert and most knowledgeable in certain areas. They take advantage of you by imposing alleged facts, statistics, and other data you may know little about. By presuming expert power over you, the manipulator hopes to push through her or his agenda more convincingly. Some people use this technique for no other reason than to feel a sense of intellectual superiority. They know that you have very little knowledge in this particular area and often remind you of their expertise (why I’m right and you’re wrong), despite you having your own internal sense that something is not quite right.

By targeting the recipient’s emotional weaknesses and vulnerability, the manipulator coerces the recipient into ceding unreasonable requests and demands.

Psychological or emotional manipulation involves influencing someones thoughts and emotions as a way to control them. This can be done through crafty and abusive practices, oftentimes unhealthy to the victim.

Manipulators will try to control people by using their weaknesses or vulnerability against them. They exploit these vulnerabilities to achieve their own goals, regardless of the harm they do.

The purpose of manipulative victimhood is often to exploit the recipient’s good will, guilty conscience, sense of duty and obligation, or protective and nurturing instinct, in order to extract unreasonable benefits and concessions.

Master manipulators are the worst kind. Their tactics are hardly obvious. And what’s worse, they make you feel like it’s all your fault.

Why is this so harmful?

Chantal Heide, a relationship expert and dating coach, it creates mental and psychological havoc:

“Guilt, shame and fear are very negative emotions that make us feel uncomfortable, and people who use emotional manipulation in negative ways trigger those feelings to incite avoidance, getting their partners to choose alternate behaviours in an attempt to feel more comfortable emotions within the relationship and to avoid any upset. If you’ve ever heard the term ‘walking on eggshells’ this is the abusers ultimate goal for their partner”

“Staying in a situation where control is constantly being applied means one will lose the ability to think for themselves, and will instead always take their cues from their partner in an attempt to avoid negative emotions.

“This stunting of their emotional growth reduces their sense of accomplishment, and eliminates opportunities for important validation. In turn, their self-dialogue will be, ‘I’m not important, I’m not worthy… I’m not loveable, I’m a loser.’”

Rebuilding Self Love After Abuse

It’s most important to show yourself compassion and to remember that nobody willingly chooses abuse. The great thing is that these difficult experiences are the ones that help us to build character, strength, and resilience. By diving into our experience and choosing to learn from our trauma, we can come out on the other side more powerful and in a position to stand up for others in similar situations.

Instead of looking for someone or something to blame, choose to claim your self-worth and recognize our courage — both in the moment of our experience and in the aftermath. Tap into your inner compass and take the learning that comes with the lesson. Don’t dwell on what you could have done better or differently in retrospect, think about how “every moment in life gives you the opportunity to start over and to learn from whatever life has dealt you.” Most importantly, remember that you can get through it and move forward into a more loving, full life where you trust yourself and others again.

Until next time,

ND

[biot08]

By Popular Request, Adagio’s Will Fragment, related to the Gaming Guardians roleplay (now long over)

I, Adagio Redwinter, being of sound mind and body, do declare this to be my last Will and Testament.

On the Execution of my Will

Over the course of my operational existence, I have managed to accumulate a great many material things of varying levels of worth. This, I suppose, is due to my natural curiosity leading to me find the new and interesting, coupled with a lifespan that is unnaturally long for many sapient species. As well, various endeavors throughout my existence have lead me to make investments and to head several ventures, with varying levels of success and prosperity. It is now, at the end of my operational lifetime, that I intend to try and give some of what I have received back.

To see to the immense task of administering my final accounts, and to assure that my final wishes are carried out properly, I authorize my executor, Zeta Aquilae, to use those funds and materials necessary to establish the Synapse Intercorporation. The Intercorporation's internal structure and method of operation will be determined by her best judgement. The Synapse Intercorporation shall oversee the execution of my last wishes as described in this will.

It is worth noting that parts of this will are hidden from public view. This is not so much to hide anything of true note, but rather to allow some of my instructions to have a certain reactive quality to them, such that if certain conditions are met, other instructions may be carried out that may not be otherwise. My executor is aware of all of the hidden portions of my will, as well as the encryption keys necessary to view them.

I have been working on this will continuously for several years, always ensuring that it accurately reflects my wishes in the event of my demise, whether accidental or not. My understanding is that many sapients who have a tradition of finality similar to a will tend to use them as instruments of encouragement and revenge. The idea of continuing to influence the multiverse at large after my existence has ceased is one that amused me. If I have misunderstood the purpose of a will, I hope others shall view my attempt here in a reasonable light. I would caution those who read this to be aware that I am not human, and indeed, I believe I am the first of my kind to have a will of any sort. I would also note that, as my operational lifetime was originally expected to be infinite, and indeed has stretched on for a great many centuries, I do tend to take a very long view on matters. In addition to ensuring my own matters are tied up neatly, and designating specific recipients for parts of my estate, I have also made several bequests that I hope will benefit all sapients everywhere, both Primarian and System born.

I have always sought knowledge, and much of my life has been dedicated to seeking truth. I have not yet found it, but I hope that, through this will, I may lead others to find it, both for themselves and for others. I would implore all those who read this will to look to one another, and, if failing in all other tasks, that they may reach the lofty goal of one day ... understanding.

To Zeta Aquilae, who sought to understand me, and who was with me on my many travels, I leave the bulk of my estate, save for those things otherwise covered by this will. I name Zeta Aquilae the executor of my estate and the head of the Synapse Intercorporation, in which capacity she will oversee the execution of this will in accordance with my wishes.

To Nightdark, my original second, and so loyal to me all these years, I give you back your life and your freedom. I only wish I could give you your old life back, Megan. I hope that your memories will suffice.

In the memory of a woman who I was often at odds with, and yet who I still feel a deep kinship with, I find myself able to do little. I now realize the trick you played during our last game, old friend, and I hope that in the afterlife I am able to give you the match you deserve. In her memory, I present a red queen chess piece to the orange queen who now rules the forest in Gamer's End. May there forever be peace and understanding in the world she gave her life to birth.

To Aria Winters, I leave my memoirs, and my core, should it still remain, to be disposed of however she sees fit. I hope your path in life will be less troubled than mine was.

To Kale, I leave the Defender, and the legacy that goes along with it. The history of this vessel is long and deep, young Kale. You should ask Majir about it. I also give him my spaces onboard Prometheus Space Station, and my apartment in Gamer's End, as well as the contents of my bank account on Prometheus Station, and the key to my safety deposit box for the same. Remember that while the mind makes the man, the tools allow it to act better on its environment.

To Sage, I leave the Colossus, a five kilometer wide space ship that was carved out of an asteroid in BESM-SF 87-5-29. I am afraid, my dear, that this is the last rock I am able to give to you.

To the first two hundred people who show up, I leave a can of Sprite from my storage unit onboard Prometheus. One of the cans contains an actual sprite, but it got mixed in with the thoroughly mundane cans, and I never did get around to determining which can it was. I figure this is both a good way to make sure the sprite gets some use, as well as getting rid of a fair bit of unused stock. (( Note: If you want the special can, just hop on IRC and get ahold of me before the end of March. ))

To whoever determines the identity and composition of those figures who are in charge of the Gaming Guardians to the satisfaction of the Synapes Intercorporation, I leave the monetary equivalent of 20,000 XP. Transparency in operations might go a long way toward building good will, my friends. As well as being profitable.

To whoever finds Wargolem, I leave 1 million XP or medical care for the remainder of their natural life, whichever seems most appropriate.

To the first party to determine what 'Velvet Fist' is, I leave behind 10000XP.

To the person who finds the original 'Wirrit', I leave 6000 XP, so long as they deliver a copy of this will to her.

To the original 'Wirrit', I leave my yo-yo. Spend some time with it and consider that the nature of the multiverse is not as you thought it was.

To Majir Sobaan, I leave co-ordinates to a little known Fallout system. Do not be startled by what you find there. Hopefully it will explain much.

To Solita Ariennye, I leave my Seattle, Washington condo, a motorcycle, and the assets contained in the safety deposit box to which she will be given a key. While it is not the world you know and love, I hope you will enjoy Seattle, and your second retirement. I imagine you've learned your lesson.

Once a year, a jet black rose, preserved by freezing, shall be delivered to Solita Ariennye's condo in Seattle, for as long as she lives there, as a reminder that some loyalties have too high a price for us all.

Because we who occupy jaunt space are not always so careful as we should be, the Synapse Intercorporation is directed to establish the System Defenders. The goals of the Defenders are as follows: to monitor potential abuses of jaunt space and its denizens; to protect the rights of denizens of jaunt space; to establish a set of parameters that will facility a working relationship between those from the Systems and those from the Primary; to create a sanctuary in Jaunt space for beings in search of a safe retreat; and to patrol Jaunt space in such a way as to ensure that junk and debris accidentally or otherwise left in Jaunt is cleaned up in such a way as to prevent any interference with normal system development. Since many of these functions are already provided somewhat by Gamer's End and Prometheus, I use my last act as an owner of a Captain's Seat to propose that the systems already in place be diverted to form a better, more unified front for members of the Systems.

To any who find a vessel looking like BeRT ( photo attached ), or its Pilot unit, I authorize the payment of 5000 XP for its finding, and 15000 XP for its destruction. The possibility of its existence could mean a dark time for us all.

To the first fifty so-called 'voidkers' who show up to any branch of the Synapse Intercorporation, I grant a token of my esteem. The terrible events that have occurred in the voided Shadowrun system darken all our lives, and I hope to foster understanding between those who were touched by it and the rest of the multisystems at large as we move forward.

For research into jaunt phenomena considered dangerous, such as Jaunt storms and void patches, I leave four million XP, to be distributed by the Synapse Intercorporation.

To Nightengale Nightforest, whose voice is the purest I have ever heard, and moved me nearly to emotion, I know from our conversations that you have no further need for wealth. So I leave 3 million XP to be donated in your name to the charity of your choice.

I leave one hundred thousand XP to fund an expedition to Jaunt system FC-F 00-13-225.

I leave five thousand XP to fund the summoning of a spirit capable of traversing jaunt and casting a permanent Sex Change spell on the Shadowrunner known as 'Suit'. The spell will need to be of sufficient power that he will require external assistance in dispelling or reversing it. While I do not think it will change his outlook in life at all, the change in perspective for him may be educational, and if not that, at least entertaining. If some other method of bringing about the same end effect can be established, so much the better.

To the person who successfully finds what is behind door 13-B in the main building of the Church of True Harmony, I give 10000 XP upon its revelation to an authority of either the Guardians, the Defenders, or the Synapse Intercorporation.

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch ii - CSSNS 2019

—–

"The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Read on AO3 here.

Ch 2 / ?? : in which they meet.

—–

The stairs were uneven, wet, and somewhat mossy under her slippered feet, the scramble downward unending. Under the muted light of a conjured will-o-the-wisp lantern, she stumbled down, the temperature dropping as the bowels of the cave below swallowed her in its vastness. Sometimes the wall broke free on one side, and she could see into the abyss of a chamber, casting a light as far as she could only to see it fall far out of sight without ever hitting a cave floor.

  She gave up counting stairs in the upper thousands, slippers sodden as her toes bitterly complained of chill. Time passed without measure, but long after her lean legs had just begun to feel sore, Emma found herself in a dimly lit antechamber, crystal pillars giving off a dull glow at its entrance while the far end remained blanketed in shadow. She moved further into the murk, seeking more stairs, prepared like Theseus to encounter the purported monster of this labyrinth.

  In the darkness, she caught a flash of her flame reflecting off leather, a hand wearing several rings twitching in the dim light.

  ”Hello?” she called, opening her palm to expand the blue light of the wisp. “Who’s there?”

  The blue light cast an eerie glow on the iron bars built into the cave, lighting upon the sparkle of quartz embedded in the stone walls. She leaned into the dripping cell, trying to see the creature that lurked just out of her sight. Searing heat lit in her forearm as she accidentally touched the iron, hissing in pain.

  ”Careful, Princess,” a voice said drolly. “Wouldn’t want to burn such lovely skin.”

  She threw the light high toward the chamber's ceiling for clarity, conjuring another in her hand as her eyes widened. There in the corner sat a man, dark haired and pale skinned, with sharp angles of shadow playing across a face that was clearly Fae. He looked up, shaggy hair, grown out in an older style sticking to his forehead. He was unshaven and although grime covered his cheeks, his steely blue eyes showed an alert edge that frightened her.

  “Who…” Emma straightened her back and tried to hide her gulp. “Who are you?”

  He laughed darkly, and flicked his hand to extinguish the wisp. It sighed as it sputtered out, and Emma frantically tried to conjure another. She peered into the darkness again, trying to find his silhouette, her light still dim from its poor summons.

  He was suddenly in front of her, stepping into the light cast from her hand, smirking. He stood taller than her, his broad shoulders and muscles not hidden by an out-of-style laced shirt and leather breeches. At one time, there may have been a cravat, but now his neck was bare and dark hair glinted blue in the light with what looked like a waistcoat laying rumpled in a corner. She caught his eye and his eyebrow cocked up, the smirk on his face widening.

  “I’m Killian. Killian Jones.” With another flick of his wrist he extinguished the wisp in her palm, and Emma cursed, summoning another with shaking hands as he laughed at her. 

  When a new blue flame danced in her hand, Emma saw him walking back to the corner where he’d originally sat. Squinting her eyes, she followed his form as he relaxed back against the wall. Through the dim light of the cell, she could see how bare it was, aside from a few books, a chamber pot, and a straw cot that looked mostly unused. The cell was smoothed, all edges almost melted away. He had nothing to end his own life with.

  They were by no means fully immortal. Emma had heard tell of Fae crushed, or wounded by iron swords. The elements were never feared; being friends with the air, the sea, the earth, and even the flame meant that they had no worry of death by them. Immortality only meant they would stay in their youthful form. Even a hard press against the iron would only leave painful burns that healed before death. What had happened to him? Why was he here, rotting away in the rarely used dungeons, in this cell purposefully hidden with such care? 

  “How do you know who I am?” she asked, tentatively stepping closer to the bars again. “Why are you here?”

  His laugh echoed off the walls, surrounding her, making her shiver as if she was chilled to ice.

  “I know many, many things, Princess.” He held the ‘s’ longer, almost snake like, and she felt her chest constrict slightly. He turned over his shoulder, eyes reflecting the blue of the wisp and making them look more unearthly. “I’m here because I once tried to kill your family… and you.”

  “You're… You're the Dark One?” Emma looked him over again, confusion written on her face as she chewed her lip. “That can't be right, you're my age and -”

  “Simply held in a sort of stasis, darling. Immortal and cursed to serve a never-ending sentence rotting down here, while the royal family rules with an iron fist,” he hissed, sneering at her. Darkness flared behind him, shadows moving in snake-like sinews. Emma tried to remain brave, but felt herself tremble at his vitriol. His temper cooled as quickly as it had flared, almost as if he was a different person. “To what do I owe the displeasure of your visit anyway? You weren't expecting to find me, I'm guessing?”

  “I…” Thinking on what even to say, Emma watched the eyes of a predator survey her, trying not to focus on the way he captured his bottom lip between his teeth or the crazy gleam in his pupils. He looked feral, and it unsettled her. Taking a deep breath, she tucked into the familiarity of decorum. “I have been tasked with partnering with you to help defeat a threat, a siege currently taking place above us.”

  Killian Jones blinked twice, and then laughed. 

  Emma had never heard anything like it: the dangerous edge of a low growled chuckle, like the rumble of thunder as lightning lit up a darkened hollow. It was jarring, madness right in front of her eyes on display. 

  “Well. Aren't you a daring lass. What's in it for me, if I should help you?” he asked, and stepped forward, laying his palms on the bars and watching with depraved amusement as his flesh peeled away. 

  “Oh, well -”

  “You didn't think I would do anything for you or your family without payment, did you, Princess?” Her cheeks reddened and he laughed maniacally.

  “Honor, you'd -”

  “What use do I have for bloody honor?” he interrupted, darkness flaring around them as he yelled, the sound echoing through the stone chambers. 

  “Gold, and jewels -”

  “You think money can buy me to save the people who -” 

  Emma's heart raced, and she shouted over his voice. “A deal! A deal. My parents’ freedom for your own.”

  Silence fell in the dungeon, the only sound the low drips of water. The Dark One looked at her incredulously, mouth agape. 

  “You're… You're not joking.” 

  Returning his own shocked whisper, Emma took a step forward. “I'm not. We have a mutual alliance in each other, because of this.”

  Pulling the shard out of her dress, he gritted out a sound of longing. 

  “I'll take the deal. Set me free and you will have your parents’ freedom in return.” He looked at her hungrily, his eyes zeroed in on the silver chain around her neck. 

  “No funny business. If you don't free my parents the deal is off, alright?” Emma shot him a look, and he reached his hand through the iron bars for her to seal their accord with. 

  “Yes, yes. Now free me!” he breathed excitedly, and Emma shuddered. 

  Placing her hand in his, she shook. The bars shimmered, falling away like silver feathers that disappeared into nothingness. At first, he stood as stunned as she did, his mouth open slightly and eyes wide. Emma watched as a smile crept slowly over his face, blackness devouring everything around her, choking her like smoke, the world shifting as if she was thrown into a night sky absent of stars. 

  Emma landed in a graceless heap, hearing sounds of shock from around her as she picked herself up to look around. The man named Killian - or rather, the Dark One, for now she could see the Darkness in its full and horrifying glory as it swirled around him - stood slightly in front of her, his long coat, cravat, and suit clean once more. His beard was not gone but trimmed short, rakish, and his hair was left shaggy in a long style that fell over his kohl rimmed eyes. He looked mad, his smile a half snarl under blown pupils that sparked with insanity. 

  The Goblin King and Prince who stood before them did not seem perturbed by his crazed visage, simply happily surprised. 

  “I've brought your bride as a wedding gift, My Lord,” the Dark One called out like he was presenting some trinket, wrenching Emma forward. She shook her head and tried to protest, but he stared at her with amusement. Cocking his head and clicking his tongue, he spoke before she could say a word. “Don't worry, love. In exchange for a few favors, you can marry this royal annoyance today.”

  “We had an accord you odious, foul, toad's ass! You promised -”

  “Ah, darling.” Turning slightly, he raised a finger and touched her nose in a taunt. “That's why you always check the fine print.” The Dark One grinned, and the Goblins surrounding them laughed. 

  “Dark One! Good to see you again at last. What are your demands for my son's bride to be?” Gold smiled, steepling his long fingers. 

  “I would like the King and Queen of the United Realms freed, a pardon from the new regime, and the dagger and its shard in return for the princess. I'd also like the return and freedom of the person you took from me.” 

  “You ask a lot, Dark One. I say again, this is for my son's bride. I'm afraid that your help will be needed for my sovereignty. The dagger is off limits, so ask once more.” Nil shifted uneasily at his father's words while the Goblin King’s reptilian grin grew larger, as if he was laughing at a joke the Dark One had yet to catch. 

  “His bride… she isn't for you?” The Dark One looked apprehensive. “What happened to Mil-”

  “Ah yes. Ever so perceptive, dearie.” Gold approached them, waving the dagger in his hands. “My first wife. You thought she might have escaped, yes? Thought maybe she might be in hiding? I'm afraid that while your subsequent… descent into the Darkness, as it were, did cause her some distress, we were able to come to our own arrangements after she realized that you were never to return for her. Not that she could have escaped anyway, as many times as she tried until she found herself with child. She bore me Nil, then died. I've taken another wife since, so this will be Nil’s chance at being granted a -”

  Killian’s face was contorted in rage, as if Gold had smacked him. Emma could see his indignation and disbelief. She backed away and heard her mother's soft voice, finding Snow holding her father's head as he lay unconscious in her lap. He was still bleeding slightly, though much of it had been smeared from his scalp, ears, and lips; a wound on his side was wrapped tightly with strips of petticoat. 

  Crawling to them, Emma tried to heal them, but her magic sputtered. Snow stilled her trembling hands, her pale face swollen and bruised under her once perfectly coiffed hair. Emma had never seen her parents look so haggard. 

  “They've put up some sort of magic dampener. It won't work, Emma.” Snow brushed her fingers through David's hair, watching his brows furrow. 

  “I'm so sorry Mom, I -”

  “It's alright. It's going to be okay, Emma. We will fight to get you safe, I promise.” Snow set her jaw in determination. “I'll die before -”

  “No, no, Mom, no, don't say that -” 

  A crash sounded from the Dark One, his tone filled with incredulous hatred. “I don't believe you, I don't believe she's gone. She isn't - she isn't gone, she can't be! This is another bloody trick -”

  “Trade me your loyalty and the princess for her then, if you believe your ‘twue wove’ lives. Prove your devotion.”

  “The dagger, Milah, the King and Queen’s freedom, and my freedom for her, or nothing!” the Dark One screamed. 

  “Faaaaaather,” Nil whined. Gold looked annoyed, and sighed. 

  “Fine. Fine! Here's your precious Milah.” With a wave of his hand, a crystal casket appeared with a crash near the Dark One. Killian opened the frosted glass cover to look inside, his tense shoulders trembling, and let out an anguished cry as he stumbled to hold the woman's pale body inside.

  While listening to the Dark One’s torment at finding his lost love dead, Emma realized that there were things she knew without having to know them; facts of how the world worked around her presence. 

  The earth beneath her feet spoke in a steady rhythm with her footsteps. Water would always hold her safely in its currents, softly tugging at her curls. The wind carried her like it carried songs, words, and scents to please her fancy. If she climbed high enough in one of her father's beloved trees, the sun's light was unbearably bright; but in that perfect instance of blinding warmth, she lit like a candle.

  There were things she'd had to learn the hard way, even in her safe, sheltered, preciously controlled world. Once, as a child, she escaped to the old palace orchard to climb up into a peach tree, eating the ripe fruit greedily and dropping the pits below. When she'd gone to get down, sticky, her slippery fingers had lost their bearings, resulting in her falling backwards until the ground met her back harshly. She had felt the air forced from her body on impact, the whoosh of it leaving her without even a voice. It felt like her lungs had exploded, and when she finally could get breath, she wailed all at once.

  Listening to Killian’s cries of agonizing pain as he stroked the woman’s face, she wondered if love was like that, too.        

  “So much for your faith, eh? Now accept that you have nothing, accept the fact that you can't escape. I have you, the princess, and the dagger all together, with nowhere for you to run to.” Gold giggled, giving a shrug. “So much for your demands.”

  Killian pulled away finally, and Emma could see the fury rolling off his frame, his hands shaking as he pulled a necklace from the dead woman's neck. Snow shifted, laying David's head down with care before pulling Emma up slowly into a crouch. 

  The Goblin King was too busy laughing at his clever trick to notice Killian pressing his lips to the locket in his palm or the women’s movements. Emma braced herself in anticipation while Nil looked at her stupidly, opening his mouth to say something. Suddenly, Snow pushed Emma forward and on her feet, throwing her towards the Dark One. Emma stumbled forward, looking back at her mother's face, memorizing the bright tears in Snow’s eyes as she blew a kiss farewell. 

  Emma never heard Nil’s words, the thunderous noise throwing people aside all around them as Emma's steps propelled her forward with the shard. Killian had made a portal and was stepping through it when she hurtled into him, throwing them both through the swirling vortex to fall, fall, fall... 

  Wind whipped past her, Emma’s dress catching around her sides as the darkness above and below swallowed them. There was no up or down, only midnight and stars surrounding her until her body broke through the mirror surface of what was below, icy shadow swallowing her, pulling her -

  She couldn't control the water, or the current, or the air and light; it all fought her grip like something feral as she flailed. 

  When she tried to breathe in, her lungs filled with burning starlight, a cold fire that left her vision blurring. This wasn’t to fall, but was to be struck down by an unseen hand of the Gods, like the old texts said had once separated Fae from Fae; taken as an old style sacrifice to protect like in the days before realms, left to burn in elemental fury…

  Emma closed her eyes, and let the cold hand take hers to wherever awaited.

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

    It took an explosive amount of magic to rip open a portal, his rage over Milah’s fate all consuming as the Darkness fanned it in glee. He had held out hope for all these years that there must have been a mistake; had dreamed of a reunion instead of clawing at the dark heart on his shoulder, the charcoal ash color mocking him. Her name had never changed in its script, never faded, and he had traced it through the worst of doubts. Holding Milah, seeing her as a corpse with no vibrancy, seeing her son in his monstrous glory - it was a crisis of faith that weighed him down while he plummeted. Her locket was clutched tightly in his hand, gripped like a lifeline. 

  You knew she was dead; you knew there was no hope and that she was dead. You knew and you bargained like the fool you are, the fool you have always been. You killed her, and you know it; you knew it before this, but you do so love getting what you fight for -

  It mocked him as he fell through a clear night sky and hurtled towards the lake below. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flutter of white, an unwelcome guest in his misery: the princess, dress and hair wild in the rushing wind, her skirts like the chapel paintings of angels as they swirled. He saw her hit the water below a moment before his own body crashed through the still surface, kicking hard against the current to take a breath of the chilled air. The water and night resisted his control at first, the elements unused to a master for so long. With finesse he manipulated the cold weight trying to pull him down, his movement fluid with no resistance. The princess didn’t appear or rise, and he dove back below without trouble or need for air, pulling her limp body towards the shore with ease. 

  For a brief moment, Killian thought she was dead. Her skin was pale and her lips were turning from pink to blue. He could take the dagger piece and be done with this, leaving her to follow the inevitable fate of anyone who crossed his path. Then again, the blasted thing was probably warded. If he squinted, he could see the slight bit of sparkling light magic shielding it. If it was shielded, the magic would probably tear him to pieces within moments. 

  Reaching for the chain, the Darkness and him together, the smallest voice inside of him protested adding another name to the long list of those dead. Reaching slowly to where the shard had nestled in the hollow of her collarbone, her magic crackled with electricity like intensity. Definitely some ward. 

  Tick tock, Dearie. 

  There would be time to test it later. He reluctantly pressed a few times on her chest instead, to see if there was still life. When she made no move, he tried again more forcefully, still with no success. 

  The Darkness bit and writhed under his skin in its impatience. Killian tried to comfort it and soothe the Darkness - the princess was worth so much more alive, she needed to be alive - but her heart barely fluttered under his prodding. The Darkness growled with agreement, but in its own way sought to continue its torment of its host.

  It’s not working. You’ll have to make a decision on whether you want to do something other than those chest compressions pretty soon… We can handle pain, we can handle being ripped apart or put back together, but magic like this? If she dies the shard most likely will too. Tick tock. 

  Killian had to agree, even though its hateful cackle and his own derision only made his frustration grow. He pushed her wet hair aside, pinched gently on her nose, and pressed his lips against hers with a breath. 

  Emma sputtered almost immediately, turning her head to the side and coughing up water violently. There was a gentle sigh of relief inside his mind, so quiet he was sure he’d imagined it. The Darkness had not noticed or acknowledged it. Instead it quieted, a fact which surprised him slightly. She fluttered her eyes open, and stared up at him, sucking in deep breaths. 

  “What?” Emma coughed, shivering.

  “We’re in the old homeland.” He pointed to the water where chunks of broken ice floated lazily. “Things have moved since I was last here. That used to be much warmer, and the river's current would immediately obey with magic.” 

  “Where?” she whispered incredulously. He looked at her with seething annoyance. 

  “The old lands. You know, the human world? Where we were before your parents decided on peace and love with a side of segregation?” His irritation seeped into his tone, and she scooted back away from him.

  “You tried to use me to broker a deal, and we aren't even in the United Realms anymore? Why would you bring us here, of all places? You lying pig - Ugh! And you kissed me!” She scrubbed at her lips in disgust with the back of her hand, glaring at him. His anger came roaring back.

  “I most certainly did not kiss you, I saved your royal arse! It isn’t my fault your deal was to save your parents, you vain, spoiled, presumptuous brat -”

  “Take me back!” she screamed at him, throwing a fistfull of mud, rocks, and leaves from the shore as she stood. “Take me back this instant! I want no part in whatever working with you entails you bastard son of a sow -”

  “I saved your bloody life! Twice now even, in the last hour!” he growled, as she continued to pelt him with whatever she could get her hands on. “You should be thanking me you stubborn -”

  Emma hit him hard with what he assumed to be a tree branch, his patience now gone. When she came back to hit him again, he caught the branch, pulling her down in the slick mud of the riverbank as she protested, covering her mouth with his hand and pinning her. Her eyes were wide, silvered green in the moonlight, fear keeping her paralyzed beneath him.

  “Right. Here’s your choices. Choice one: I can help you get your parents free of the Goblin scourge we both are clearly enemies with, help you navigate to allies if you have any, all in exchange for that blasted bloody shard holding my freedom around your neck." Emma squirmed slightly and he pushed harder against her, catching her leg with his own to allow no movement. 

  "This place’s time moves far differently than your home. What will be a week there, well, it could be years here depending on whatever magic your parents have conjured up. You don’t know a damn thing about this world, but I do. The elements here will be resistant to your magic, but I can help you tame them. Do you understand? Be a good lass, nod your head yes or no.” 

  Emma nodded yes under his hold. 

  “Good. Second choice. I leave you here, go along my merry way until the Goblins catch you - which they will - and we see each other next at your wedding day when the Goblin King gets you and that shard wrapped together in a pretty little bow. The blade becomes whole again, and I lose the ability to control the Darkness at all. Now, which would you rather choose, hm?” He let go of her mouth and Emma sneered at him. 

  “Get off me.” It was hissed, and he felt the Darkness stir even in its muted state inside him. Killian pushed it down, willing patience on it. Pulling himself off of her, he stood and dusted himself off.  

  “Your choice, m’lady?” He offered her a hand, which she refused, standing on her own even with her compromised balance. 

  “You’ll help me? The enemy of my enemy and all of that?”

  “There’s that proper breeding and decorum I expected from a Highborn!” Killian spat sarcastically. “I’m glad you can comprehend something so simple. Yes, I’ll help you.”

  "Why keep me alive? Why save me at all?" He watched her search his face for any answer. Her eyes lit when she realized his greatest weakness was the same as his price: The Dark One was controlled by the shard, and as long as Emma had possession of the piece... "You can't hurt me."

  "The Vorpal blade commands me to do no harm to anyone who holds it, even in pieces. I cannot kill what controls me, for it compels me, as I call it Master. I cannot take what controls me from my Master, it must be given." Intoning the words through gritted teeth, he closed his eyes to drown out the Darkness screeching in frustration, trying to rip him apart from the inside. The Darkness salivated at the thought of bloodshed, wishing it could end her life in a single snap, images of Navy ships burning on dark water intertwined with the greasy voice of a viper.  

  It would be so easy, and we'd revel in the destruction. We’d sit on a black throne in a dark castle, you could have everything - 

  “Fine. Choice one.” Emma's voice cut through the noise, Killian’s ears ringing as the Darkness settled. 

  He turned from her, and nodded his head in a direction. “This way then- Ow!”

  She hit him a few more times with the tree branch before chucking it aside. 

  “Don’t ever, and I mean ever, touch me like that again, or I will gut you like a codfish,” Emma hissed, eyes slitted. “And never in your life expect to kiss me again - that was most definitely a one time thing, buddy.” She stalked off in the direction he pointed. The Darkness swirled back to life, smoke filling his veins. 

  Stubborn wench deserves what we'll do. Just bide your time and hatred - we'll be free soon, free to wreak havoc and seek revenge. 

  Killian hummed in a half hearted agreement, surprised to feel challenged by the pluck the woman had. 

  The sky was dark and the starlight helped very little as she stumbled through the forest. Killian watched from behind her with a low chuckle, and the Darkness mused at how it had lost its footing so easily in its host. It wasn't of real consequence. The foolish girl had never been in this world, and even if it was completely different, there were truths that were well known.

  “If it gives you that much trouble, Princess, light a guide for yourself or a palm lantern. Even a will-o-the-wisp.” 

  “You're not,” Emma huffed in exertion, snapping back a branch, “making much use of anything but that mouth of yours. Why don't you do it?”

  Annoyance filled his lungs with the gritted breath he took. That wasn't expected. Killian wanted her tired, her magic completely expended, with no hope of fighting to keep the shard around her neck as long as he could withstand the ward's pain. The princess needed to do magic to do that, to exhaust the limited supply that this world had. He tried a different tactic: pushing her to annoyance. 

  “Ah, but we both know that you don't want me to use my mouth in other ways -”

  “Could you not?” Emma made a disgusted noise, and summoned a blue flame in her palm. It didn't drain her as much as he needed, to his overwhelming frustration. The Darkness cursed. 

  “Fine. We need to get somewhere safe regardless, and you're freezing. Help me with my magic, I know a safe place.” If all went well, he could potentially leave the wench outside of town and charm someone to steal the Dagger piece for him. It would have to be outside of town though. Motioning her over to him, he positioned them facing a certain way, whispering what sounded like a transportation spell. 

  Emma looked at him quizzically, but approached, any wariness replaced by the small beginnings of trust. She was a foolish thing. If he could feel pity, he might have been sympathetic towards her leap of faith. 

  Taking her hand and putting it reluctantly in his, Killian whispered words, taking the magic he needed as smoke poured around them. She had more than he ever expected, he realized, an overflowing basin of light that swept in tendrils around their touch. It filled him with heat and warmth, thawing ice away, his body unable to stop its pull as it sent the Darkness skittering into a deep part of him. Light spilled into his veins with a power deliciously strong but somehow fluidly soft.

  The ground was leaf litter and river clay, until it wasn't - At first Killian thought his calculation was off, but the swell of power as the air crackled was enough to know the truth. He had not accounted for her power. In an instant they were not just in the town, or near the house as intended. Instead, they were in a flour coated kitchen as if it hadn't changed through the whole stretch of his captivity as Emma wobbled forward from the jump. 

  “Bloody hell,” he whispered, and Emma held her head, unsteady and confused. Killian let go of her, noticing how delicate her wrist was, the honeyed floral smell of her magic in the air over the scent of bread, vanilla, and sugar making him sway for a moment as well. He felt alive; the view from his cell had never been enough, but now that he was here, reunited with his - 

  Emma's quiet voice broke into his thoughts, her swaying getting worse. “I feel so…”

  “I forgot, magic here wanes. You’ll have to use it sparingly until the full moon.” Killian tried to hide his glee at her weakness, but when she stumbled and fell against him, he was shocked to feel her magic still swirling inside of her. The Darkness gave an involuntary shudder. 

  This is a… This is a trick, a fluke. She has only been in this realm for minutes, her power will weaken and fade soon enough. 

  “When, tomorrow?” Emma asked, exhaustion heavy in her tone.

  Killian shook his head. “A full moon here takes time to come back.” 

  Emma tried to stand, this time falling back hard into his arms. 

  “Whoa, easy there, Princess. Easy, easy, love.” Emma felt his arms around her, a deep tiredness settling in her body. His embrace was strong on the wooden floor where they stood, and Emma felt dizzy when the smell of apple pie hit her hard on top of the room spinning. 

  “Killian, I… Did I…?” Her mouth was beginning to feel full of sand and straw, her tongue too big, her tiredness unrelenting. “Safe?”

  He nodded, and Emma tried to focus on his face, the haze of her fatigue causing him to look younger, an imagined phantom of his brows knit in worry for her. “Yes, we're safe. You're safe,” he soothed. 

  The hallucination made him look like a different person, the worry on his face so clearly caring and empathetic. She reached up to touch his shoulder and felt the sharp zap of her magic meeting an angry force, like a shaken wasp’s nest, the buzz causing her to yelp. 

  A woman burst in, white hair in disarray under a knit sleep cap. She was wielding a baseball bat in one hand, propped on her shoulder, while the other hand crackled with icy magic. Both her magic and the bat fell away when she saw the two intruders. 

  “Killian! You're here, you're free, oh Killian, what has it made you do? Why… why are you here? Did you kill her?” she asked, horrified. 

  “Nothing Ingrid, the lass fainted from using magic,” Emma felt him shift her as she laid her head in the crook of his neck. In her delirium, she noted that he smelled wonderful under the smell of forest. “I know that you must think the worst, but I need help. We need help -”

  Emma tried to listen to their blurred voices, but it was too much and she was too weak. Opening her eyes she gazed up, letting her head flop back as her muscles gave way. Killian’s expression was back with no empathy in sight, dark and impassive, the shadowed scowl the last thing she saw as she fell into unconsciousness. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

    The Darkness squirmed under its vessel's skin, demanding and impatient now that the royal brat lay still in a bed under a thick quilted comforter. It was all it could do to get Ingrid to stop her incessant nagging and simpering over their arrival, to believe the tale of his freedom and the alliance the princess had forged in good faith. 

  Ingrid was too shrewd and calculating in her own right, and the Darkness hated her for it. She was off limits to the Darkness completely, which it hated, and with the addition of the strange magic that the princess radiated, it was difficult to maintain control. 

  “So you're freed, and you come here with Snow Margueryte's - Er, Queen Snow’s daughter? And you truly thought I would not ask questions or have concerns about your intentions? Killian, you have learned nothing from your exile; don't think I cannot see this Darkness controlling you.” 

  “If the Darkness controlled me, you would be dead, Ingrid,” its host replied simply. It was true, the Darkness mused. As long as it had inhabited this man, it was unable to exact punishment on the older woman. She was off limits, no matter how annoying.

  All family, for as long as we coexist. I will never again harm them. 

  “How long will you be here?” Ingrid asked, and its host sighed. “Have you brought danger down upon the last remnants of your family? You were not to come without warning.”

  “Time there is slowed once more. I don't know, and I cannot say for certain that we bring danger, but I suspect we do. The princess is being pursued in marriage. I had nowhere else to go, no time to give warning, and she… I need her cooperation if I'm to maintain my freedom.”

  “I'm glad you're here, then. I'm glad you are safe, that both of you are. I'm not glad that buzzing maniac still inhabits you, and I stand by that. You're being watched, Killian. I won't let you hurt the girls, or this princess.” Ingrid stood, as tall and noble as she had been as a duchess. “I have to sleep to open the bakery in time, but remember your brother's words: ‘In this home, you are not what they think you are.’”

  “Fine,” he whispered solemnly. Here Ingrid wasn't Fae nobility, he wasn't the Dark One, and the princess was just a woman. Liam had been just a man, sitting at the table with them and laughing over toast. The memory made him hurt, and Killian felt the Darkness push at that pain like a finger in a wound. 

  Emma slept soundly as Killian sat on the edge of the mattress. She barely moved except to burrow further into the quilted blankets she had wrapped around herself. Her body was so still, and his temptation was goaded by the pulsing voice that told him to take the shard, make sure it could not be taken. Silky pitch and charcoal whispers that refused to be ignored. 

  Killian reached the hollow of her throat, fingers gently trying to pull the blade’s tip. The shock that exploded when he gripped the steel sent him to the floor, every muscle taut, then released in burning pain. The Darkness ripped at itself, tearing at the searing sensations that clawed at it, fighting to survive the flames that erupted through its vessel. The bloody wench didn't even stir as its host fell back twitching. 

  The damned piece of blade was enchanted with her parent's ruddy love far too strongly. The Darkness vibrated with rage, formulating new plans and strategies. They would have to keep the brat alive, the shard now tied to her heart, the embodiment of the True Love that bound it. Spitting and cursing, it needled under the flesh of its host until he returned to consciousness with a snarl. 

  For now, they would wait. The shard would be theirs eventually.