#mocking kell is a way of living

[cla-oh]

Lila Bard✨

She's just mocking Kell, yeah.

It's so funny to draw her like i'm seeing her in the first book.

There is a moment when Kell smiled and since she never saw him yet smiling she just mimick him in a mocking way, and it was so funny for nothing, i was inspired by it.

[luciehercndale]

The Scent of the Night - Kell and Lila

No spoilers for Threads of Power in this fic. It is meant to happen post A Conjuring of Light but before the events of TOP. While the ship is docked at a small city port, Lila finds herself riddled with thoughts about Kell, and how they still haven't found a way to help him with his magic. Rating: T Read on A03 💙

Lila sighed, and her breath came out in puffs. 

It was a cold night, probably the coldest ever since they left Tanek, and she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t even want to get warmer with magic. Shrugging herself deeper into her coat, she gazed at the dock where they moored a day prior. Her gaze longed to see activity, an immediate way to distract her thoughts, but to no avail. This could be the quietest or the busiest moment at a harbor, and regrettably for Lila, this place preferred to be asleep at night, its people safely tucked into their beds. As I should, probably, she thought, and managed a mocking smile.

Lila knew she should probably head downstairs to her quarters, and try to sleep it off. To forget for a few hours about it all. About his pain, his suffering – If it wasn’t this late, she could have had a few drinks by herself. But if the docks were empty of souls, what luck could she have to find a tavern that still accepted customers? What a bore.

She knew that she needed movement. She could have roamed the entirety of the ship and waited for tiredness to come, but she didn’t want to wake the crew, nor Kell. She hadn’t heard him at all when she passed his cabin, and she was confident he was sleeping. 

She needed to go. Benefit from the drowsiness of her traveling companions and draw herself away from the stillness of the ship. At least for the night. 

God, I can’t wait to set out to sea the next morning, she thought. She didn’t like being stuck in the same place for long, especially when it was unfruitful. The only way to cope with the urge to change the setting was to take a break from everything for a few minutes, or hours. 

She was by herself on the prow of her ship, but it wasn’t enough. The crew was still below deck. He was still below deck, within reach. On another day, she would have climbed into bed with him and let him hold her. That night, however, she felt like she needed space to run from her thoughts about him, so she ran into the night, and it welcomed her with open arms.

There was something so calming yet so eerie about a city drowned in sleep. The lack of noise helped to think and to relax, or to hear a thief’s footsteps more clearly. It was also a foe. As Lila walked through the silent streets, she tried not to let it bother her. She watched the closed stalls and the dark houses and she began to imagine who must be living there, and what they did for a living. How did they solve their mundane problems?

She felt like a ghost haunting the town, the chill of winter seemed to engulf the city differently from the ship, because the buildings were a shield, she supposed. They felt homely, while the dock was open to the cold wind. Lila felt a little warmer within the narrow alleys. For a while, it seemed like the change of setting was helping dull her mind. Her own fantasy about who roamed these streets during the day was a ploy to divert her attention, until it wasn’t anymore.

She felt the tears before she realized she was crying. They left a trail of iciness on her face, which jolted her back to the issue, back to reality, back to the thing she was running from. Back to – she stopped in her tracks and listened. Breathed in the air of the small port city, and what hit her nostrils wasn’t the crisp tang of winter, a signal of void and absence. 

The night smelled like flowers, and Lila closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, inhaling the familiar scent, letting it engulf her bones, but she kept walking as if it was nothing. 

It didn’t last long, though, and soon, she stopped again. The tears still ran freely onto her cheeks, and she sucked in a breath trying to get a grip on herself. Tried to hide the evidence before her mood would be known to the world. To him.

Lila told herself to keep walking, to pretend. The city might be tiny, but there were still so many paths to explore. Like there were many unexplored places where they could find a cure. 

She decided to ignore the scent, but how could she? 

It was all over her, grazing parts of herself she thought were long sealed and dead. That gracious smell found ways to slip into her, it made her believe that she wasn’t alone, and that she was worth loving. That she was loved. It clung to her skin and to her clothes. It ignored the thorns that she had tended for years, it ripped them apart. Let new blossoms of different colors bloom inside of her. It gave her a new reason to live, and to die for. Her flower boy.

Right now, she knew that she was dying for him to be alright, and it ripped her apart. Yet, he was one of the few reasons to keep trying. To resist. To stop running. To open up. Yet, the first thing she said to him was: “I can handle myself.”

She heard a soft chuckle behind her, but she did not turn. “Trust me, I know.”

“Then why are you here?” she blurted out, flinching. Not because of the cold. She knew she was bracing for his answer. Afraid, she realized with time, that he would say something that would make her love him even more. Loving someone was a desperate business, and it hurt tenfold compared to a knife fight. “I can handle myself,” she repeated, trying not to stutter. 

Steps. He advanced and got close to her. She could feel his breath on her neck, stronger now that he was right behind her. It instantly calmed her down, made her feel less lonely. She didn’t move. 

“You didn’t return to your cabin and I was worried,” he whispered, his voice genuinely concerned. 

“So you followed me,” she rasped, but it came out weak. “As you can see, I’m all in one piece. You can go back to the ship.”

“Lila, don’t,” he pleaded, and she wasn’t sure if he meant ‘I don’t want to go back’ or ‘don’t lie’. 

“What else is there?” she wondered, clenching her hands instinctively. A way to prepare for the blow, whatever that was. Damn, she was so stupid. 

“You’re in a mood,” he said. 

“I’m in a mood,” she echoed, without agreeing or disagreeing. “So you followed me to quell my anger, that’s it? Well, for your information, there’s nothing you can do about it,” she seethed, while inside of her she screamed to herself: Lies. Lies. You’re lying, Lila. Lies. 

“Would you stop?” he inquired, and turned her body toward his. Now they were facing each other, and Lila couldn’t help but gaze up at him, even if it meant that he would see. He opened his mouth slightly, newfound concern and fondness glinting in his mismatched eyes. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs, and his fingers were warm. “Lila,” he whispered lovingly, embracing her without asking for answers. And she let him. 

Even his body was unlikely warm in the freezing night, but it was probably because of his magical coat. She envied him for it at times, but she would never trade the coat if it meant losing Kell’s warmth. And right now, he was like fire lighting her match. 

He didn’t say anything, but his doting affection and care, his muscular arms cradling her head and her back, the way he made her feel protected even though she knew how to take care of herself – they told her everything she needed to know. So she leaned into him, letting the tears come freely. Letting him, the center of her thoughts, console her. Because he was also the cure.

“I’m preoccupied,” she said later, when they were returning to the ship, holding each other’s hands. And angry and powerless, she wanted to add, but that was clear.

Kell nodded. “What for?” he asked quietly, and this time she felt like sharing her thoughts.

She bit her lip. “You,” she confessed, and he sighed. 

“You shouldn’t,” he answered quickly, offering her a smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes, and Lila had learned how to read him. Sometimes, they were so alike. “I probably just need to rest my magic for a while,” he added somberly. “I’m sure it will come back soon.”

“What if it doesn’t,” she voiced her thoughts. “What if you need someone’s help?”

“I doubt someone can help my case, if not myself,” he said, eyes glancing at the road before them. They almost reached the docks. 

Lila rolled her eyes. In this too, they mirrored each other. “Kell,” she squeezed his hand, and he turned to her. “What if we find somebody who can help you?”

“I said, there’s no –”

“Don’t be stubborn,” she halted. “This world is a big place, and we still haven’t seen everything. There must be someone or something out there that can fix your magic. And I’m not stopping until I find them.”

“Don’t waste your time on something so trivial,” Kell replied, and kept walking, but she was sure she had hit a nerve and he was trying to pretend not to be bothered by this issue.

“Trivial?” God, she wanted to punch him in the guts. Idiot. “I wish I could fix you with my magic,” she whispered, reaching him. 

She took his hand again, and he kissed her knuckles. Sometimes she forgot he was also a prince. The gesture made her blush, and she could tell it was his way to shut the argument. He was done talking about it because she knew it hurt him, and he probably didn’t want to make it her problem. But she couldn’t look away. 

I care about you, idiot, she wanted to tell him. And it pains me to see you suffer like this. I wish I knew how to help you.

Give it to Kell for being stubborn. Then again, wasn’t she equally stubborn for wanting to find a way to fix his magic even if he was convinced that they didn’t need to? Wasn’t that also a form of head-headedness? Probably.

Unlike him, who seemed to have already accepted his fate without question, Lila would not go down without a fight. She would not give up the search for whatever could fix Kell. They had a world to explore, and the whole time in the world to do it. And they had each other. She would not give up on him.

When they finally reached the docks, it was dawn, and sailors were bustling about with boxes and other things. They stopped in front of her ship, but Lila stopped Kell before he could go aboard and gave him a heated kiss. 

“What was that for?” he asked, breathless and red-faced.

“For luck,” she whispered with a smirk. Not that we need it, she added in her mind, and she wondered if he had caught the reference. If he remembered.

Kell smiled in acknowledgement, and stretched out his arm. “After you.”

Lila giggled softly, and dragged him aboard, his flower scent enveloping the ship with the smell of home and hope.

*

Glad you made it here <3

My intention with this fic was to write angsty Lila and angsty Kell comforting each other, a way to emphasize on how they are there to support each other and would literally die for each other. Kell prefers to nurse his problems alone, and Lila gives him space because she knows he is a proud prince and he thinks he must solve this problem by himself. It obviously hurts her to see him in pain when he uses his power, and she feels even more helpless because she wants to find a way to fix his magic and she still hasn't. So the point was to show how deeply this is affecting Lila and how she handles when the person she loves is having a hard time. But also how comfortable and intimate and familiar traveling with him on the ship is, and she wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

The Devil's Trap

Not Natural

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: spn inspired, demons, monsters, curses, blood, possible abo, threats, teasing, insults, demon Kells, sleeping naked, pulling weapons, mentions of past underage relationship, enemies to lovers maybe, still early so no smut yet (might be a slow burn, I don't know yet!) ⚰️ Rating: mature

Kells grinned, his eyes flashing their natural state behind his sunglasses as he appeared in the sunlit broken down motel room. Hell-tell as he liked to think of them, a place frequented by the seven deadly sins. From whores, to dealers, to killers, to his new prey- the hunter, these places were barely better than his home. This one didn't feel so bad when he looked at the annoyingly brave boy who had been on his mind all night. He didn't know if it was the fresh blood scent on his skin from his new wounds or the way the sunlight reflected on his pale freckled skin, there was something almost calming about the kid and it got on his last nerve. Humans weren't supposed to intrigue him anymore.

He set the food and coffee cup down on the faded table and took a seat in one of the ratty chairs. He let himself spread out, his legs wide and his arms folded, he liked to appear as if he owned every room he was in- because he could. "I've never seen a hunter brave enough to sleep naked. You're a special one Domie." He teased the boy quietly but of course the soldier was attuned to everything around him. Before the demon could blink his eyes to their human lie the Brit was holding a knife out towards him. That was the truly insane thing about Dominic, he rarely used guns. It fascinated the demon more than he could say though he wasn't sure why. He'd lived through centuries, he'd been around before the damn things existed. Why was this punk so exciting?

"Oh bloody f-" Whatever else the boy said was muffled as he buried his face into his pillow and groaned. Loudly. The beast couldn't help but chuckle, he wasn't used to being an annoyance anymore. Everyone was so fucking terrified of him all the time.

"Good morning sunshine! I let you sleep in but I know you're feeling better. Here, I brought you breakfast." He offered, tossing the bag onto Dom's back.

The human grumbled and jumped when the hot greasy bag slapped against his skin but the monster was right- he felt a lot better. He was confused but for the first time in years he actually truly felt rested and he didn't want to look too closely at why. Possibly the blood taste he couldn't get clean from his mouth no matter how hard he brushed, or maybe because deep down he'd known he was being watched over and he was safe to sleep. Finally. "I don't normally drink coffee." He sighed, rolling on his side. He caught the bag with what should have been his aching arm but it felt better than it had in so long.

"You're welcome, that would be me in you. And that's good cause I didn't get you coffee. Yorkshire shit, right? I popped across the pond. Figured I'd prove I got good intentions."

Dom snorted at the mock of his accent in the man's- monster's voice but his belly flipped as he rolled onto his back and tried to keep the sheet covering his morning wood. That's all it was, a normal bodily function. It had nothing to do with the crimson mickey he'd been slipped or the giant fucker in his room who brought him tea from his homeland. As he accepted the cup the demon's long fingers ghosted over his knuckles and a shockwave went through him. Little electric zaps that felt as if he'd touched a live wire. It sent his blood rushing and he cock twitching under the thin sheet. He felt wet. He'd felt power before but nothing like that. Shit the monster was strong. "Fanks."

"Don't mention it." Kells sighed, pushing his glasses down a moment to glare over them. "Seriously don't. I don't do nice, I just hoped with the right lubricant you'd loosen the fuck up a little. Tight ass." He didn't mean to be annoyed but knowing the kid thought everything he felt was from the blood or magic was a bit presumptuous of him. He was already frustrated with himself- he didn't like doing sweet things. "Chilly in here?" He purred, his brow arching behind his lenses. He couldn't help noticing the boy's perky pink nipples looked diamond hard and begging for his fucking teeth. He found himself pushing his spectacles up into his hair before he crossed his arms to keep from trying to reach out.

Dom's brows furrowed, he wasn't sure what part of him the bastard was staring at but his dick certainly wasn't small enough to prove a chill. Wait… why the hell did he care? He shook his head, trying to clear it from whatever was making him act strangely. He definitely wasn't attracted to the literal hell beast. He couldn't be. He refused. He huffed softly and opened the offered bag of trans fats and sodium. Kells brought him tea from home but the breakfast was all American and the cheesy maple goodness of a McGriddle was exactly what he needed. It wasn't distracting his hard-on but he didn't care. "Stop objectifying me." The boy grumbled as he unwrapped his treat and raised his knee, hoping to keep his bits hidden from view. He knew it was most likely the supernatural upper coursing through him, True Blood had gotten one thing right, just not the species. Though of course he hadn't tried vamp blood. Demon blood could make you feel better than any high but it worked stronger than any little blue pill. That was all, he wasn't attracted to the monster. He'd never do that again.

"Eat your fucking breakfast. I'll do what I want. And who said I would want to objectify you?" The monster rolled his eyes in a big show of frustration but the bitch was onto something. It was more like a spider staring at a fly though, it had to be. He didn't like humans.

"You was talking bout me tits." Dom slurred, his mouth full of food. He hadn't exactly been taught the best manners growing up and he wouldn't care to impress his new companion anyway.

"Pfft, what tits? I mean, I guess you have nice ones but-" Whatever he was going to finish the statement with vanished as he clamped his jaw shut. He didn't mean to compliment his prey. He sighed deep and leaned back in his chair, resting his feet on the bed and trying to act like he would nap. He needed a moment to compose himself.

Dominic was so wrapped up in his food he wasn't paying enough attention so when the man- beast set his Doc covered feet on the bed it pulled the blankets down to his knees. Suddenly everything was on display and he moved to slam his thighs closed and pull his knees up so fast all at the same moment that he dropped the last bit of his sandwich on his chest. The demon of course had been staring and now he was truly looking- his lips parted and his eyes wide. They sat almost frozen.

Kells snapped his fingers to clean the boy up but he couldn't look away from his tightly held legs. He couldn't have seen what he had but… he couldn't get the mental after image to disappear either. His eyes narrowed, a bead of drool trying to escape his lips as the kid scrambled to pull the sheet up as if in some old cartoon. The hunter was dramatic but he was starting to understand why.

Dom swallowed a whimper when the demon moved quicker than his eyes could track, one moment he was lounging in the chair and the next he was hovering over him, his hand wrapped tight in the sheet as if to rip it away. "I thought you were human." Kells growled low, his gaze full of that stormy black and blue that proved his power.

"I am. Fuck off." He snapped back but his voice was shaking. He hid his curse so well normally and now it was known. He didn't know why it made his stomach flip that the demon knew his best kept secret but it should have made him feel ill.

"I don't think so."

"I am. I… fuck Kells- please?"

"Please what?" His voice was gravel and his gaze heavy. There was something warring inside him. One side saying to abandon the boy, he had set out to help a human but what he saw proved the hunter was not. "Are you a fucking were? An angel? What are you?"

"I'm cursed okay? I'm fucking cursed. You don't get me bloody life story because you brought me breakfast. Prideful arse'ole!" There were angry hot tears burning Dom's eyes and he was desperate for a reset. He should have just dressed the night before, he knew the demon was close. He knew better but he'd left himself open to being found out. He couldn't help wondering if some part of him had done it on purpose. He'd been suffering alone with it so long. "Wait- angels? It's an angel fing? 'Ow do you know?"

Of course over the years on the road as he searched for the monster who'd cursed him he learned what beasts shared the same trait. Born werewolves had it- at least some of them. But angels did too? Thankfully those fuckers were calmer than he knew they used to be, a new regime kept them under control so he'd never fought one. He'd always assumed his affliction was based on wolves though, but now he couldn't help wondering. It didn't matter though. It was embarrassing either way and he didn't want anyone knowing. He didn't know how to handle the fact that someone did. How could Kells use it against him?

Kells took a breath, he was trying to calm down but instead it just drove his instincts a little more wild. He was so close to the human he could scent him and the smell was intoxicating. At least that made a little more sense finally. He forced himself back and he took a seat on the bed, his hands clenching at his sides. "A curse? You're not just… lying?" He knew their shared enemy was powerful but strong enough to do that? Fuck. "Why would they curse you to be an omega?"

Dom froze at the question, he'd never been given the name for it. All he knew was that one day he woke up with a cunt between his legs, fully functional. It was hell for him every day. He hadn't been in a relationship or took someone to bed in years. He worked his ass off to hide it. "It was a punishment for leaving I guess. Got into a relationship wiv the wrong person. I was young Kells. I don't know shite about why or 'ow or nuffin." He didn't know why he was explaining himself to the beast, he just couldn't seem to help himself. There was something about the demon that made him want to obey. It was the cliff notes version of events, the wanker didn't deserve more of his story. Yet. He didn't know why it hurt him that the bastard almost seemed disgusted by him now.

The demon sighed, he could feel the boy's pain and confusion and he knew he was partially the cause. He didn't mean to seem standoffish but he didn't know how to control himself around the kid. At least now he knew what was drawing him in. The monster who did that was fucked and he craved even more to destroy it. Dating minors and cursing them to a life like that just gave the rest of them a bad name. There were some lines even demons shouldn't cross. The human couldn't be more than a quarter of a century so he knew he must have barely been through puberty before it happened. Fuck he had to get control of himself. "Like I said, I'm here to help. We'll find him Dom. I can help you fix this." He vowed, trying to look the boy in the eyes instead of between his legs.

Dom's heart beat faster and he found himself nodding. He hated the idea of working with evil but… There was something about Kells. He felt himself relax a little and he took a sip of the cooling tea. He didn't think he could accept the offer out loud but he could at least keep from telling him 'no'. "Would you tell me about it? Omegas I mean. You seem to know." He shrugged, his voice softer than he normally spoke.

The demon sighed, his head tilting as he watched the human drink what he brought to him. Why did taking care of the kid make him feel so good? "I'm not supposed to." He answered after a moment but it was the truth. No human was meant to know about the angels, at least those were the old rules. He supposed it might be different. What he really wanted to do was far from talking. Maybe he should just disappear for a while.

"Please? I wanna know wha's wrong wiv me." Dom never asked nicely and he supposed he could treat Kells the same as any other demon but he wasn't sure he could get him in a devil's trap easily.

"Nothing is wrong with you." The beast accidentally whispered and his cheeks felt as hot as the fire of his home.

"Wha'?" Dom choked, his eyes wide from surprise but of course with that the demon vanished, leaving him with cold greasy hash browns, lukewarm tea, a stiff cock, and so much more confusion than he'd started out with. What the fuck was happening?

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 🖤

I'm sorry if this isn't up to my normal level of writing, my brother is visiting for a few days and I've been really sick. I wanted to try and get something out though so I hope you enjoy it, at least we're learning a little about them 🖤⚰️

[dont-touch-my-soup]

"One of us has to make it out alive"

Previous   || Masterlist ||  Next

CW: captivity, choking, violence, blood, betrayal, stabbing, manhandling, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, character is in a dying condition

As soon as Kell was out of the view of the audience, hands grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. Oryn’s fingers dug painfully into his skin, pinning him against the cold stone.

“You little piece of shit,” Oryn growled. “I should have just killed you.”

Kell had never seen him that angry. His eyes burned through Kell until he could barely hold his gaze any longer.

“Are you scared of what people will think about you now?” Kell asked. He was shaking with fear but after all this time he still hadn’t learned how to die quietly. “Everyone will talk about this for wee-”

Again, Oryn slammed him against the wall knocking the breath out of him in a strangled gasp. Kell would have crumbled to the ground if Oryn let him, but he kept an iron grip on his collar.

“I will make sure you will never be able to sing a single tune again,” Oryn’s voice got louder with every word and Kell’s chest was so tight it was almost impossible to breathe.

He couldn’t do that, could he? And even if, the General would never allow it. Not even Oryn would dare to anger him.

With that conclusion in his mind Kell lifted his eyes to look directly into Oryn’s. “I will find a way as long as I can breathe,” he hissed back.

The deadly look on Oryn’s face was the only warning he got. Then there were hands on his throat and then there was no air.

“You never learn, do you?” Oryn hissed. Kell felt his breath stroking on his skin, mocking him. Instinctively Kell lifted his arms to push Oryn's away from him but Oryn just tightened the grip on his throat even further. “I decide whether you live or die,” he whispered, his face far too close. “And I decide how you live. Or how you die.” 

Kell desperately pushed against Oryn, his nails digging into his skin, his left hand useless in its bandage but Oryn’s grip didn’t even falter. 

He knew he wouldn’t kill him. But that knowledge didn’t ease his panic.

His desperation drove him to keep pushing, to keep fighting. He'd long lost control over himself. His fingernails frantically scratched over Oryn’s hands while the burning hot pain in his chest was swallowing his whole existence.

A flicker of light sparks danced over his vision, and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

He’d kill him. 

He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t think, and he couldn’t stop his hands trying to loosen Oryn’ grip. His fingernails helplessly scratched over Oryn’s hands, his arms. Kell's muscles grew heavy and tired, and it just added to his panic as his strength slowly drained out of him. 

“Please,” Kell’s lips formed the word but there was no breath to speak. 

Panic seeped through his body. 

He’d die here.

He hoped it would be quick, but luck had never been on his side. His hands dropped down like withered grass and his vision went fuzzy and narrowed down until he thought he was losing his sight. 

His skin was tingling and tingling until it hurt and suddenly, he was falling. 

He breathed before he could realise that the weight on his throat was gone. It felt like drowning. He was desperately sucking in the air. Too fast, too much. He started to cough and again panic took hold of him. White dots were swimming in front of his vision. 

Oryn was hovering over him, but Kell could barely see his face.

His lungs burned with every breath but still it was impossible to stop gasping for air. He had never felt so helpless.

He grabbed at his own throat frantically searching for hands that weren’t there anymore. It felt like they were still lurking on his skin and as soon as Kell didn’t pay attention they’d choke him again.

“You are lucky the General has claimed you,” Oryn spatted distantly, towering over Kell. He could barely hear the words over the ringing in his ears.  “He’d be very displeased if I’d kill you. But I am sure he isn’t happy about your performance either. You'd better come up with a good excuse for your behaviour.“

He blinked and when his eyes opened again Oryn was gone. 

His head was throbbing painfully, and it took him an eternity to sit up. His face was wet, and his throat was on fire. He tried to swallow against the pressure and was shaken by a coughing fit that rattled his ribs. 

He looked down at his hands lying limply in his lap. Blood had soaked through the bandage again and the pain throbbing through his arm had become more aggressive. Angry tears burned in his eyes. It would never heal. And it would make everything just worse. Maybe if it had healed, he would have been able to struggle out of Oryn’s grip. 

Deep inside he knew it was stupid but still he couldn't help thinking about the possibility of it.

A new form of panic seeped through him as he realised his hands were empty. 

He looked up and turned his head. The crumpled piece of paper laid just a few steps next to him.

A sound somewhere between laughing and coughing bubbled up his throat. The relief that Oryn hadn't noticed the piece of paper stronger than the pain.

With trembling hands, he reached for it just when a shadow moved from the corner of the room. 

Kell froze and turned his head. He blinked in surprise as he recognised Robin slowly coming closer.

“You won’t need that anymore,” she said, and her voice was startingly gentle. 

“Wh-what …?” Kell croaked out, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His head was throbbing so badly he felt like he might throw up.

He tried to stand up, but his body seemed to have lost all its strength. 

“Don’t move.” A hand softly pushed his hair back. “It will be over soon.”

Robin was kneeling next to him, her hair fiercely red. Something metal glimmered in the dim light and then there was a pain as if she’d punched him followed by two more blows, before Kell could lift a hand to shield himself. 

Robin was breathing heavily as she let go of him and sat back. 

Kell’s chest suddenly felt very warm and when he looked down, he saw the red stains spreading fast over his clothes. 

“You … you stabbed me,” he whispered, still not realising what was happening.

Then Kell’s world was on fire. 

“Consider it a mercy. Now the General won’t be able to use you anymore.” A whisper. Robin’s face blurred in front of him. Someone screamed and he knew it was him, but his voice sounded distorted and wrong. 

His arm went numb, and waves of pain burned over him and then the world tilted to his side. His own heartbeat raged through his body in a desperate attempt to keep him alive. Then there were only screams and pain left.

Kell was freezing when he saw the note on the floor. Sabea. He had been so close to her. 

Slowly he pushed his arm over the floor, his teeth clenched. He wheezed with the effort of it. It took every bit of strength left in him to move his limp fingers. They were trembling as he stretched them out towards the note. He could feel them brush against the paper and he cried out when they shoved it even farther away. 

“Please,” he whispered but it sounded more like a sob. He took another breath and forced his hand to open just a little more, stretch it just a little farther but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reach it.

*** 

Jinn already felt better as soon as he stepped into the cool corridor and the Varsennan surprisingly let go of him. Even though the show had already started, the corridor was crowded with people and Jinn was glad he wasn't alone with the two Varsennan.

He tugged at the apron that was now covered in dark stains. It would only increase Oryn’s anger. 

The smaller Varsennan looked over the crowd and muttered something to the other one with barely concealed anger. Then he turned to look at Jinn and Jinn had to force himself to not take another step back.

“We’ll accompany you. We don’t want you to collapse again, do we?”

It sounded like a threat.

“Thank you for your kindness,” Jinn said, his voice only trembling just a little. He bowed his head as far as he could. He had to get rid of them without further angering them. “I’m just gonna head downstairs to change my clothes,” he lied and forced a smile on his face.

Again, the two men exchanged glances. 

“It’s no trouble,” the bulky one said, shrugging his shoulders and the words were enough to freeze Jinn’s blood.

“Thank you,” Jinn said and this time his voice was trembling, the thoughts in his head tumbling over each other, as he tried to think of a way to get out of this.

Jinn felt the gazes piercing his back as he led the way.

It was much easier to get into the closed area under the theatre then out of it. No one was looking at them too closely.

He took a few detours hoping to elongate his time to come up with a solution. But the more he thought about it the more desperate he got. He tried to stay calm, but his feet were shaking dangerously under his weight and his heart was hammering in his chest. The Varsennans still followed him and sometimes he could hear them muttering to each other but so far, they didn’t seem to suspect anything.

Jinn walked around a corner when a scream echoed through the corridor and turned Jinn’s blood into ice. His feet hit the ground before he could even think about it.

The last time he had heard screams like this he had run away. Now he was running towards them. A part of his brain was siring in alarm, but he just ran faster.

He knew the voice behind the scream. 

The broken screams had turned into sobbing when he reached the dressing rooms, he wasn’t alone. Another singer was standing in the door, paralysed, his mouth open. A second later, Jinn saw what left him like that.

Jinn had never seen so much blood.

“No.” The single word died on his lips.

His legs were numb but he somehow managed to get to Kell before they gave up and he dropped to his side.

 ***

Kell couldn’t breathe. There was a weight sitting on his chest that forced all the air out of his lungs, and every inhale got harder and harder and he knew there wasn’t enough oxygen in his lungs but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

He felt so cold. 

“Kell!” someone yelled. The voice seemed to come from a long way off.  

“Kell,” the voice repeated, it trembled and suddenly there were hands on his face. 

Kell knew that voice. He struggled to open his eyes. A face swam into his vision.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” The voice sounded like it was crying.

And finally, Kell recognized it. “Jinn,” he croaked. “What are you doing here? You need to leave. Before it’s too late.”

“I won’t leave without you!”

Hands hovered over Kell’s body unsure whether to touch him or not.

Hands moved over Kell’s body and when he felt Jinn’s hand brush against his arm, he took hold of his wrist. “Have to. One of us has to make it out alive. Please. For me.”

“No. This isn’t right. I can’t …”

“Jinn, it’s okay. Just go. Please.”

“You will survive,” Jinn said, his voice shaking with force. Kell hadn’t known how stubborn he could be.

“Just go,” Kell said weakly. "Just go." He repeated it a few times until he realised Jinn was long gone. 

***

A hand tapped against Kell’s cheek and Kell wanted to turn his face away, but his body didn’t listen to him anymore. The tapping became harder and Kell heard a voice calling something. 

“Come on, open your eyes,” the words echoed in Kell’s mind. His chest was made of tiny icicles. His eyelids were made of lead.

Every inhale was too shallow and felt like needles pinching into his chest. 

A face looked down at him. He���d never seen that face before. Dark eyebrows furrowed together. A mouth was moving but Kell couldn’t hear what he was saying. His eyes fell close and someone started to tap his face again. It was annoying and it didn’t stop until Kell struggled his eyes open. This time the face in front of him stayed blurry and then his vision slowly got dark until everything was black and Kell knew he should be scared but he didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. He felt almost peaceful as the voices above him faded away until all he heard was a soft hum. 

***

Jinn was standing in the entrance, watching as the two Varsennan moved around Kell. They worked hand in hand like they knew what they were doing. 

They had followed Jinn, or the screams or maybe both and Jinn had begged them to save Kell. 

He knew he should leave. This was the perfect opportunity. The Varsennans were distracted and wouldn’t realise until he was gone.

But he couldn’t leave Kell. He couldn’t just leave. He wanted to kneel next to him and hold his hand, help them, do something to save him. But he couldn’t. He was shaking so hard it was almost impossible to keep his feet under him. 

He felt so weak. He should be there. He should help. But he couldn’t move. 

He hugged his arms around his body. Something cold and wet pressed against his skin.

Kell’s blood was still sticking to his clothes. The smell of it was everywhere. 

He should leave. He wasn’t any help to Kell anyway and he’d want him to take the chance and run. 

He should turn around and leave, but his eyes were still glued to the blood-stained hands pressing on Kell’s stomach, to his face that looked worn and thin, to all the blood on the floor. 

He started to count in his head, and he didn’t know why or up to where. He just counted.

He was at 137 when they stopped moving around Kell. The smaller Varsennan pushed his hair out of his face with the back of his hand, his lips were a thin line. He started to say something that sounded like a question. Then the other one paused. “Tell him … tell him he’s dead,” he whispered and suddenly Jinn was falling.

_________________  

Thank you for reading! @whumpzone @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @whump-cravings @tears-and-lilies @imagination1reality0 @suspicious-whumping-egg @i-can-even-burn-salad @siren-of-agony @villainsvictim (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)  

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[princepipper]

in one of your replies about abby and Gabe you said that his parents failed to help him when he was mentally ill and i'm confused because i thought his dad was really strict in canon? like telling him to take his meds and having curfew, and that he went to the hospital too, isn't that helping?

Ah! I double checked my replies and I think I found what you're talking about, the section in this ask that reads, "...Gabriel would be the first one to not only notice, but do what his parents failed to, and help her right away."

So yeah to clarify, in both my verse and canon, it isn't that Gabe's parents didn't help him at all. We see on One's blog that Gabe has a strained relationship with his dad, mainly caused by the stress of having to raise and care for a teenager so unstable. But despite the harsh words, his dad does bring up the matter of taking medications on time, worrying about Gabriel's whereabouts, asking if he needs to talk to his doctor again... I wouldn't say that his dad is always nice or understanding to Gabe, but he absolutely is trying to help his son, even if it's not the perfect method.

I'm about to ramble, forgive me for how long this is, it's going somewhere I promise!!

I have my thoughts on Daniel Kell, canon-wise I mean. In One's verse, we know that his dad commits suicide when One is a kid, sparking the drastic difference in the life paths that he and Gabe follow. Daniel is described as a busy working man, and the stress of his job paired with his own mental health is what killed him in that verse. But for Gabe, his dad does not die, and we get some context as to what he's like as a parent here and there. Gabe says his father works as a businessman of sorts, and doesn't know anything else- that tells me right away that they are not close, as most children at that age would know the deeper details of their parents' lives and vice versa.

In another scene, Gabe's cellphone rings from incoming texts: his dad starts with all caps, demanding to know where Gabe is and that he needs to come home. But it is immediately followed up by regular texts calmly apologizing for yelling and asking Gabe to call him. Gabe doesn't do that and instead expresses exasperation at the idea. This is further insight to the dynamic of their relationship: Daniel, while harsh, understands that yelling at his son will likely cause more issues, and tries to remain calm (somewhat). Gabe doesn't like to talk to his father and prefers to stay away from situations dealing with him. It's a very strained relationship, there's no trust between them, and it's clearly stressful. And then of course, when Gabe does come home we have the interaction where his dad refuses to listen to him, scolding him for being out past curfew and even mocking him slightly for implying he has real friends instead of hallucinations.

Lastly, after Gabe gets beat up, he says that he lies to his father about the bruises on his face and claims he fell. His dad apparently laughed at him for that, and Gabe brushes that off and states that "It's ok, I laughed too!"- again, worrying behaviour, his dad shouldn't find his son's injuries to be amusing, even if it was due to clumsiness. And Gabe laughing with him is downplaying his own feelings, trying to fit in a mould of sorts for the sake of his father.

Overall, in canon, Gabriel Kell isn't exactly abused by his father, but definitely lives in a less-than-satisfactory environment. The lack of trust is one thing, but I think it's safe to say that Gabe is scared of his dad in a way, though not explicitly stated. Gabe likes to act tough and rebellious, but that's about all it is- an act. From watching his language, and the fact that he's been sheltered (which is not entirely due to his dad, but also his social skills...), Gabriel Kell is really not in much better a household dynamic than One is with his alcoholic mother. I think in general, both of the parents are neglectful in certain ways, and to get to the core of my point here...

...Owl once clarified that when One and Gabe started to show signs of being unwell as kids, their parents ignored them, until it became a larger, disruptive issue.

*wheezes* OKAY, now, my verse is a little different again, based on these ideas but not exactly mirroring them.

In my AU Daniel Kell is still a strict parent who had a lot of trouble raising Gabe, having to care for him alone after he divorced Ivy. The father-son relationship is rough, but the change really comes as Gabe gets older, maturing a bit, and him and his dad are able to better understand each other and get along. Part of this is actually because of Pipper- she's a big impact on Gabe after all, and her friendship with him is always surprising to his dad, teaching him that his son is not a total mess after all. Not only that but Pipper's kindness and patience with Gabe through all the hardships in their time together helped Gabe grow up to be more confident, happy with himself and more sociable in general. He's not a totally different person than in canon, but those changes are pretty significant, y'know?

And so anon, finally I will wrap it up by saying that all of these little factors are what make my version of Gabriel a good dad towards Abby. Because he knows what it's like to feel lost in your own head, to feel alone, to not have parents who you can talk to or who will listen. He doesn't want that for Abby, and even if she never experiences any mental problems, he vows from the get-go that he will be there if she does. He will not repeat the cycle of ignorance, and he will always be there for Abby, because he knows she needs him!!!

[bogkeep]

i know i talk about this on twitter like every other week but. when it comes to Media I Enjoy, the secret sauce for me is Sincerity.

i know this isn’t a thing you can measure objectively in any way, and you sort of have to take their word for it. and just like the concept of Authenticity, it can be Manufactured, which makes it... contradictory. like. there is no way for me to measure pieces of media against one another and say that “well creator A clearly but more love into their work than creator B”. besides, that’s not what i want to measure at all. i think it has more to do with, the willingness to be vulnerable, i think? how willing are you to throw away your sword and shield before stepping into the battlefield.

if you look at my favourite movies, they’re like. pacific rim, mad max: fury road, the secret of kells, atlantis: the lost empire, treasure planet, promare... and like, i think they’re excellent movies. but more importantly to me, they’re not afraid of being what they are. they kinda know that at their core they’re kinda silly and wishywashy (not you, secret of kells. you are Perfect), but they aren’t denying that. they lean into themselves. every parody i’ve ever loved has been an Affectionate Parody, building upon its roots rather than mock them.

meanwhile, i am struggling to feel any hype at all for newer disney movies. some of it is because of my own nostalgia and my growing up (even if it feels like a betrayal to admit to it), some of it is the growing awareness of disney as an all-consuming and cynical corporation, some of it might be the shift in genres and mediums and it might simply not be as much to my tastes as my old faves. that’s all valid. because i do not doubt for a SECOND that the people working on all these new movies are deeply passionate and full of love for the stories that they’re telling! but there’s also something about how every movie feels like it’s being polished down more and more and more to appeal to the w i d e s t  audience possible. it seems like it’s so difficult for them to keep anything quirky or strange or challenging because they know what the backlash and criticism will be - which also feels deeply dissonant to me knowing that if anyone can withstand the backlash it’s fucking disney. it feels like cowardice, not on the creators’ behalf, but of the corporation. it would rather be safe than sincere. and like, the movies aren’t BAD by any means!! they have every resource available to them, of course even the least well-recieved movies they release are still going to be Pretty Okay.

i mean. i dont work in the industry at all, maybe i have no clue what i’m talking about. i don’t know what it’s like to make a movie or what it’s like to make your vision come to life. it’s very easy to armchair diagnose movies. maybe it’s my Taste that is wrong!!

it’s not just movies though. i read a lot of webcomics and sometimes Books and also we live in the age of youtube and podcasts. there’s a lot of mediums for people to tell their stories and stuff. and i really do have soft spots for kinda wonky webcomics that have a lot of heart. i have probably watched more amateur video essays than i have watched professional documentaries in the past couple years. i still refuse to think undertale is cringy because it dared to be more sincere and vulnerable than anyone calling it so ever hoped to be. and like, yeah, i want to be careful about lauding the “FOLLOW UR DREAMS TELL UR STORY” narrative, because we live in a society and we gotta pay bills and sometimes your most self-indulgent story just isn’t gonna cut it. i’ve followed enough webcomic artists for years to know that the internet is a graveyard of abandoned passion projects. creating webcomics can be such thankless work that might bring you little to no revenue and pushing your body to create it might break it permanently. it’s awful to think about. i have so much love for every creator that had to end or abandon their work prematurely for whatever reason. thank you for giving us the gift of reading it at all, you know?

idk i love creators and i love it when they get to do their thing and i know it’s complicated. thank you for daring to share your heart’s blood with us

[hangovercurse]

Studio Nights

You and Kells spend time in the studio together.

Part ii of Losing a Friend

Colson x Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: the first few parts are a lot of fluff, building relationships and such but soon we’ll get into the real angst 😊 

Word Count: 1501

i < ii < iii

September 2016

You had hoped that after 3 months of hanging around the guys, you would have gotten used to their constant energy. But sitting in the studio, you realized you might never get used to it.

Lazily you spun yourself around in the rolling chair at the monitor, Kells sitting next to you with his back to the desk. “Dawg, I’m telling you, you were wasted as fuck,” his loud voice rang through your ears, making the headache you were nurturing even worse.

The boys were having a conversation about something that had gone on in the club the other night with Rook, who was arguing that it wasn’t as big of a deal as Kells was making it out to be. To be fair, Rook was that drunk, but it really wasn’t all that funny.

You tuned them out as best as possible, turning back to the computer and looking at the track again, sighing at the thought of hearing it blare through the headphones. As Slim, Baze, and Rook continued arguing, Kells turned to you.

He seemed to look right through you, taking in the bags under your eyes and the slight frown on your face. “Hey,” he spoke quietly, “you okay?”

You gave him a small nod, placing the headphones over your ears with a fake smile. His hand reached out and tugged them gently off your head. “Seriously, you look like shit.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave a monotone answer, “thanks, Kells. You sure know how to treat a lady.” You let out a dry chuckle as he continued to stare at you, a teasing pout on his face, “I’m fine, I just have a headache, it’s nothing.”

He swiveled his chair so that his front was facing your side, reaching out and turning your chair so you could be face to face. His knees bumped up against your own lightly, “we can take a break if you want, pick back up tomorrow.”

You shook your head, “I’m fine, there’s just a lot of noise right now, but it’s nothing. I just want to finish this song; we’ve been working on it for way too long now.” You tried to play off the throbbing in your brain as Slim and Baze laughed obnoxiously a few feet away from you.

He rolled his eyes, “You are the one that keeps editing it.” His tone was teasing, but you couldn’t help but agree. There was something about the track that just wasn’t right yet. “But it can wait another day, go home. Or I’ll send these fuckers home.”

You chuckled, “aren’t you guys technically at home?” He sent you an unamused look, making you pout, “look, I can’t figure out what it is, but something needs to be fixed.”

He let out a breath through his nose, imitating laughter, “I know, you keep saying that. And I trust you, but you’re not going to figure it out if you’re in a mood.”

A glare came over your features, directed at him, “I am not in a mood.” You shoved him playfully, his chair spinning slightly, “I’m just in pain. My head feels like it’s eating itself.”

“That’d make a good lyric,” he commented with a smirk, shoving you back. “Go home.”

You smacked his hand away lightly, “don’t tell me what to do. Now let me work.” You tried to turn back to the computer while placing the headphones back over your ears, but Kells just spun you back towards him.

“How about you let me listen to it for once,” his tone was playful, but you couldn’t help but gape at the audacity.

You handed him the headphones, “I have been trying to get you to do that for the past 3 hours!” He chuckled, placing the speakers over his ears, and pressing play. “Is this what it takes to get you to work? My pain?” you teased halfheartedly.

Truthfully, Kells had a way of distracting you from whatever happened to be bothering you, including your headache. It was one of the many reasons you liked being around him so much.

He nodded his head to what you assumed was the beat, making you giggle lightly. He paused the song midway, taking off the headphones and frowning. “What if we tried carrying the initial guitar riff through at that little middle part.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to the computer and fidgeting with the track to add the raw guitar into the space. You didn’t notice, but you and Kells were very closely huddled around the computer.

The other guys in the room, however, did take notice. Slim elbowed Rook, pointing over in your direction as you and Kells cracked lighthearted jokes and worked on the song together.

Rook let out a chuckle that was lost on your ears as Baze quietly teased, “I give it two months, max.”

The younger boy shook his head, “hell naw, you think Kells is gonna wait that long?”

Baze flicked Rook in the head, “that’s why I said max, dumbass.”

Rook shoved the older one, starting a small war between the two of them. Slim rolled his eyes, speaking over the two’s fighting, “she’s way too smart for that, it’ll take way longer for her to come around to that.”

After another 15 minutes of you and Kells working intensely on fixing the music and the guys teasing you about how cute you were behind your backs, you could listen to a rough sample of your new and improved track.

“This is fucking fire, dude,” Kells said loudly as he listened with the headphones. You laughed at the volume, feeling better than before and giddy at the thought of having fixed the track.

Once he had finished, he placed the headphones over your ears and played the song in its entirety, your voices flowing together naturally over the music. When the revised part came, you were shocked at how much better it sounded, even if it was still just a rough edit.

You took the headphones off, beaming at him, “you are a genius.”

He teased, “so I’ve been told.” You rolled your eyes, knocking his knee with yours playfully. He shoved your shoulder softly, voice lowering, “you should go home. We can polish this part tomorrow and get it ready for a release.”

You shook your head, volume matching his “I’m fine, Kells. It’s just a headache and we’re almost finished, I can manage.”

“I’m not touching another button today and you are going home, end of story.” You whined but gave no real protest, reaching for your purse and keys. He patted you on the head mockingly, “good girl.”

You glared up at him, “call me that again, and I will hurt you.” He chuckled, standing up with you, and walking you to the door.

He called to the guys, “thanks for all the work today guys, really helpful.” His words dripped with sarcasm, making you giggle.

Slim shrugged, “looked like you two had it handled, we weren’t gonna interrupt.” Rook and Baze snickered, making you roll your eyes.

“Well, I’m out. See you guys tomorrow.” You threw up a peace sign to the men.

Baze checked his phone, “are you sure you want to drive this late? It’s almost 3 am.”

You sighed, realizing he was right. A pout fell on your face as you muttered, “it’s fine, I’ll be okay.” You turned to head out the door, throwing a smile at the boys. Kells followed you out to the main area of the house, grabbing your wrist gently in the living room to stop you from leaving.

“You can stay here tonight if you want. It’d probably be better anyways if you still feel bad.”

His gentle touch on your arm seemed to send a soft feeling throughout your body, something unfamiliar to you. You shook it off, giving him a small smile. As much as you knew you probably should stay, you needed to get out of this house before any other unexplained feelings arose. “Thanks, Kells, but I’ll be fine. I live all of 10 minutes away.”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant, “fine, just text us when you get home.”

You rolled your eyes, walking to the front door, “okay, Dad.”

He chuckled, “shut up, loser.” You flicked him off playfully as you left, the door closing behind you.

Mere moments after you left he heard three laughs from behind him, “oh Y/N! Please stay the night with us.” Rook mocked an overly dramatic Kells impression.

Baze continued with a “I’ll do anything for you Y/N, I’m just so in love with you!”

Slim shook his head, walking over and clapping his best friend on the back, “ignore them.” He said, “we all know you’ll confess to her in your own time.”

Kells scoffed, an eyebrow raised, “I am not in love with Y/N. She’s just a friend. A better one than you three.”

The boys laughed and rolled their eyes, “okay,” Rook said, unconvinced.

tag list: 

@bakerkells​ @elviablo​​ @iambashfulperson​ @sunflowerbebe107​ @crystalbaby12​ @stormrider505​ @ticketstomydaydreams​ @mvrylee​ @daddyavesxx​​ @pettyvxbes​ @prettydreamboy​

[jacksonroseroth]

Blind Date Part 3

A/N: Thanks to everyone who made it this far on my first Baze fic! :) I hope you like Part 3! 

Warnings: None

Words: 2,379

Moodboard made by @badwolf-in-the-impala​, none of the pictures are ours

~

They rode as many rides as their tickets allowed before deciding on riding the Ferris Wheel after dinner, then made their way back to the front of the pier and got a table for two at Bubba Gump’s. They were seated outside and by the railing which made Taddie extremely happy. She glanced over the menu, quickly deciding on what she wanted, then shrugged off her jacket and gazed out over the beach and the water as Baze asked their waiter a few questions. He glossed over his menu before the silence truly registered and he looked up, over the menu, at Taddie. A small smile touched his lips.

Taddie leaned her chin in her hand and had a content smile on her face as her eyes bounced around, taking in the scenery. She slid her fingers through her hair and her curls resettled. In doing so, she tucked more of her hair behind her ear and Baze caught a glimpse of silver at the tip of her ear. As his smirk grew a little more, he lowered the menu and said, “Is that a cartilage piercing?”

Taddie turned to him and her hand shot up to her ear. With a soft laugh, she nodded, twisting the jewelry around for a moment, and said, “Yeah. I’ve had it for a long time. Christmas 2011, I think?”

Baze let out a brief, low whistle, then chuckled. “Nothing else pierced?” He asked, letting his eyes casually roam her face. Taddie shook her head and said, with a shrug, “Nope. Just the cartilage and two on each lobe. I kind of want my nose pierced though? But I’m terrified that I’ll accidentally rip it out and just the thought of that hurts.”

Taddie smirked as Baze let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I’ve ripped out a few earrings. I can’t imagine ripping it out of my nose.” He chuckled. Taddie nodded and wrinkled her nose slightly, then smiled. Their waiter soon returned with the answers to one of Baze’s questions and took their drink and appetizer orders.

“Double whiskey on the rocks and...Just the garlic bread to start with.” Baze said, giving the waiter a polite smile before looking at Taddie. At the mention of garlic bread, Taddie couldn’t help it as her eyes shot up to him and she tried not to smirk too hard.

“And for you, miss?” The waiter asked, turning to Taddie. With a brief lick of her lips, she looked away from Baze, up to the waiter and smiled, sweetly.

“Um...A glass of Moscato, please? And a water. Thank you.” She said. The waiter jotted it down and smiled at them both.

“Perfect. I’ll be right back with your drinks and your bread. And if you need anything, be sure to use the sign!” He said, giving a little hop and pointing two finger guns at the ‘Run, Forest, Run’ license plate sign at the end of the table. Taddie chuckled as he walked away then closed her menu and sat back, looking over at Baze.

“So, did Thea tell you I am a low key bread whore or am I just that obvious?” Taddie asked with a giggle. Baze smirked, letting out a soft snicker and shook his head, saying, “Nah, actually I was ordering for me. Did you want some?”

His smirk grew as Taddie laughed and kicked out her foot at him, gently. “Rude. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t eat. I have the munchies just like any other stoner.” She shot back. Now Baze laughed, sitting back and shaking his head, lightly. Taddie smirked and nudged his foot before pulling her legs back and crossing them at the ankle. Baze watched her, cocking his head to the side, slightly, then said, “How long have you known Thea?”

Taddie puckered her lips then exhale through them as she sat back. “God...All our lives? She’s actually my cousin and we’re as close as sisters.” She said with a soft chuckle. Baze raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table.

“Really? How did I never hear about you before tonight then?” He asked with a soft chuckle. Taddie shrugged and chuckled, softly.

“I mean, she doesn’t go blasting my shit around, but I’m sure she has mentioned me in a few stories about when she was younger. We were really wild back in the day.” Taddie said with a giggle. “But she might have called me Theo. My full name is Theodora.”

“Theodora? Really?” Baze asked with a chuckle. Taddie tilted her head and gave him a look with a tight smile on her face. She couldn’t help her giggle as she said, “Are you making fun of me? Theodora is a badass name.”

“No! No, it is. It is. I just wasn’t expecting that.” Baze said. Taddie narrowed her eyes at him briefly before the look faded away and she chuckled. 

“What did you think Taddie was short for?” She asked, shifting in her seat to sit forward. Baze shrugged and said, “Dunno. Only thing I could think of is some little kid called you ‘Taddie’ instead of ‘Addie’?” When Taddie shook her head, Baze added, “So what made the change from Theo to Taddie?”

“Well, everyone mixed us up all the time; Me and Thea. I wanted to start going by Thea, but I started living with her when we were 16, so that pretty much flew out the window.” Taddie said with a laugh. She gave a shrug and said, “I dunno, I was at school one day and some kid was tossing out nicknames and he came up with Thaddie, it stuck but people dropped the ‘H’ and started calling me Taddie.”

“I like Taddie. It’s different. It’s cool.” Baze said, his voice a little lower and softer. A soft blush formed on Taddie’s cheeks as she fought her smile from growing. Thankfully, the waiter returned with their drinks and set the basket of bread on the table. After giving their order, the waiter left and Baze grabbed his glass, lifting it for a toast. Taddie chuckled and picked up her glass, touching it to his.

“What are we toasting to?” She asked, leaving her hand there, waiting. Baze chuckled and gave a small shrug, saying, “Blind dates? Sneaky friends who may actually know what they’re doing?”

“Oh? So tonight is going well?” Taddie teased, pulling her glass from his and to her lips to take a sip. Baze nodded as he took a drink and set the glass down.

“I think so...What about you?” He asked, watching her. Taddie nodded and smiled as she set her glass down. “I think so too.”

She crossed her arms on the table and leaned closer. Baze smirked and met her halfway, gently planting a kiss on her lips. Taddie giggled and slid her tongue over her lower lip then sucking it between her teeth, slightly, as he leaned away a little from her. Baze chuckled and picked up his glass for another drink before grabbing a piece of bread and ripping off a bite and chewing for a moment. Taddie shifted and placed one on her plate as well, then said, “Okay, I want to hear one of your stories now. I mean, while I’m a fan of Colson’s, I’ve seen some of the KellyVisions...Through no will of my own…So, I haven’t really seen them.”

Baze snickered softly and looked up at her. “Thea make you watch them?” He asked. Taddie nodded as she took a bite of her bread, quickly chewing and swallowing before she answered, “She’s been in love with Rook since she first found you guys. It took me a while for me to come around on you guys because she wouldn’t shut the fuck up about y’all.” She gave a giggle before adding, “But I came around. Anything she found funny or if we were bored in our apartment one night; it didn’t matter. I would spend like 2-3 hours watching videos with her and smoking. It was just...A thing we did.”

Baze laughed almost choking as he took another drink. Taddie took a sip of her wine and smirked. “I’m serious,” She said, taking another before setting the glass down. “It was quite ridiculous, I’m actually relieved she’s dating him.”

“Honestly, so are we. I don’t know what kind of hold Thea has on him, but, my boy has calmed down a lot in the last several months.” Baze chuckled, finishing the last bite of his garlic bread. “Well, there’s a lot of shit that happens on tour. We’d be here for several days.”

“She showed me a few spots of a video when you guys got caught in a hurricane in Mexico?” Taddie posited, picking up a second slice of bread and eating it. Baze snickered and shook his head, scratching at his beard before stroking it gently.

“Ah, shit. That was a long time ago. Shit was wild. Thought about eating Rook at one point.” He snickered. Taddie rolled her eyes and said, with a chuckle, “That was one of the parts Thea showed me.”

With a smirk, Baze nodded and said, “We were on the beach when we got the notice there was a hurricane. We were dumb and didn’t leave so we got caught in it kinda.” Baze chuckled to himself, remembering, as he said, “Kells and Rook got way too heated about a game of pool.”

Taddie gave a shrug and said, “It didn’t surprise me honestly.” She laughed, softly, and added, “I mean from what I know and what Thea showed me, y’all are wild.”

“Oh, yeah. Anything goes, honestly. That’s why it was brought up to eat Rook.” Baze said, picking up his glass as he gave her a wide toothy grin that made her chuckle. After taking a sip, he smacked his lips lightly and said, “Nah, we lost power that morning though. Almost the entire night too. Came back on late.”

“And you conveniently left out the newscast?” Taddie asked, trying to hide her smirk in her glass as she took another sip. Baze smirked and said, “She showed you that?”

“Um, it was almost immediately after the ‘eating Rook’ bit.” Taddie said, in a mock defensive tone, then giggled. Baze shook his head.

“Some wild shit happens with us, honey. At least Thea knew what she was in for.” Baze said, sitting back. Taddie shrugged and said, “I’ve heard some stories, so I wouldn’t be surprised at the shit y’all get into.”

Baze chuckled and said, “What about you, then? What do you do for work?” His eyes were fixed on her. Watching her as she smiled and looked away, a soft pink tinting her cheeks. With his eyes on her, he reached for a piece of bread the same time she had looked away to reach for one. When their hands collided gently in the basket, their eyes shot over at their hands, then back to each other with a twin chuckle. 

“Well, I’m a photographer.” Taddie started, her fingers finding the edge of the bread and grabbing it. Baze’s hand slid over hers slowly before grabbing a piece and moving it to his plate quickly. Taddie blinked once, quickly glancing down at her plate as she set the bread down, then looked back up at him and said, “I actually work with Thea. Sometimes she has make-up gigs and her clients are okay with a quick photoshoot, both for them and for us. Or I’ll have a photoshoot and they request make-up and Thea tags along, I charge for Thea and we split what we get.”

“Effective.” Baze said with a chuckle. “You guys have your own business or just freelance?”

“Mainly freelance. But a few times a year one of us will be contracted for an event or a wedding or a shower or something. Just depending on the job, we’ll work it together.” She said with a smile. “It’s actually quite a relief I get to work with her. She knows me so well, it’s just easy for the most part. And that’s when we give our quality work.”

With an understanding nod as he set down his glass, Baze said, “It’s a hell of a lot easier working with someone who knows how you work. Takes the stress away.” Taddie let her head hang back as she let out a soft groan and said, “It’s the worst when you’re alone on a project and there’s some bitch who thinks she knows better because she has model experience.”

Baze laughed as she adopted an affected accent at the end. “That’s the worst, honestly. Like, bro, do you want to do my job or me? What are you paying me for? What are we doing here, my guy?” Baze said, acting out with his hands. A giggle fit descended over Taddie as she finished off the rest of her wine.

“It’s one of the reasons I refuse to go back to portrait studio work.” Taddie said, scrunching up her face at the thought. She shook her head and with a sigh, she said, “It’s basically retail and customer service. I broke down twice during my first Christmas season…Stressful as fuck. Especially when we were left there alone most of the time? I made sure I was out before the second. I was not going to endure that again, no Ma’am!”

Baze chuckled and shook his head, popping the last bite into his mouth and wiping off his hands. Before he could ask anymore questions, their waiter came back with their meals, placing the plates down and clearing the bread and small plates.

“Was there anything else I can get you? A refill on the wine, Miss?” He asked, gesturing to Taddie’s empty glass. Taddie shook her head and handed it to him.

“Oh. No, thank you. I think just the one glass is fine.” Taddie said with a polite smile. The waiter smiled and took the glass, also with a smile.

“Well, if there’s anything else, don’t forget the sign.” He said, gesturing to the sign again. With a chuckle, before he walked away, the waiter added, “Enjoy your meals.”

~

Hope you guys like it! Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

@badwolf-in-the-impala​

[spacepanda7]

"I would have come for you. And if I couldn't walk, I'd crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we'd fight our way out together-knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that's what we do. We never stop fighting." Kaz Brekker to Inej Ghafa, "Crooked Kingdom" by Leigh Bardugo

"Why do we breathe air? Because we love air? Because we don't want to suffocate. Why do we eat? Because we don't want to starve. How do I know I love her? Because I can sleep after I talk to her." Richard Campbell Gansey III about Blue Sargent, "The Raven King" by Maggie Stiefvater

"I hate you. You were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs... You are a pipe dream." Andrew Minyard to Neil Josten, "The King's Men" by Nora Sakavic

"You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. I'd wake up every morning and think, 'This will end in flames.'" Baz Pitch to Simon Snow, "Carry On" by Rainbow Rowell

"That is the man you face. He has more honour and integrity than any man I have ever met. He is dedicated to his people and his country. And I am proud to have been his lover." Prince Damen of Akielos about Prince Laurent of Vere, "Kings Rising" by C.S. Pacat

"I think you’re a fairy tale. I think you’re magical, and brave, and exquisite. And I hope you'll let me be in your story." Lazlo Strange to Sarai, "Strange the Dreamer" by Laini Taylor

"Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips... By you, I am forever undone." Cardan Greenbriar to Jude Duarte, "The Queen of Nothing" by Holly Black

"You're everything. You're... You're chaos and order and everything between. Like sunshine kept back by clouds. Like the entire world's imploded inside you, but all I see are the stars are sewn into your skin. You're filled with soft, dark music. I hear it all the time. Your music." Colton Bell to Danny Hart, "Timekeeper" by Tara Sim

"I feel like a campfire, like I could burn for days." Leah Burke about Abby Suso, "Leah on the Offbeat" by Becky Albertalli

"Like I’m losing my mind but in a slow, achingly beautiful sort of way." Dorian to Zachary Rawlins, "The Starless Sea" by Erin Morgenstern

"Let’s do it fucking for real. Let’s go all in. No more contract. No more safety net. You can break my heart. Do whatever you want with it." Peter Kavinsky to Lara Jean Covey, "P.S. I Still Love You" by Jenny Han

"Sometimes I think we're the same person...but we just got accidentally split into two before we were born." Aled Last to Frances Janvier, "Radio Silence" by Alice Oseman (they're platonically in love.)

"You make me want to live. Not survive; not exist. Live." Aelin Galathynius to Rowan Whitethorn, "Queen of Shadows" by Sarah J. Maas

"I have never known what to make of you. Not since the day we met. And it terrifies me. You terrify me. And the idea of you walking away again, vanishing from my life, that terrifies me most of all." Kell Maresh to Lila Bard, "A Conjuring of Light" by V. E. Schwab

"Everyone has a nightmare. Maybe I want you to be mine." Adrian Everhart to Nova Artino, "Supernova" by Marissa Meyer

Happy Valentines Day

[serpentsapple]

(This post includes major spoilers for The Grisha Trilogy and the Shades of Magic series.)

@dykeblight replied to our introductory post with the following:

alright bud since u decided to put this in the main tags of the books ur critiquing ur ready to hear my take on this. first of all the wording in this post is pretentious as hell and it bothered me all thru out reading it. second of all, let’s lay some shit down: the only books ive read discussed in this post are adsom and tgt, and while i agree that tgt isn’t the most radically feminist book series out there, i have to ask: why are u focused on women writing this? why is this post generalizing

horrible male authors but name dropping female ones? alinas journey was largely about her realizing that she could make her own choices. about her not needing to be queen or supreme ruler or some shit. about how she could literally settle down with the worlds most boring dude and still be happy. anyways, beyond that: adsom. first of all, whenever someone pulls the “not like other girls” card for lila, i have to pull the “she’s genderfluid” card. it wasn’t Explicitly stated in the series, and v

has expressed regret for that, so it’s probably going to be more obvious in the next series. also, adsom is very much a period piece. you couldn’t be a woman in the early nineteenth century doing what lila did without like, yknow, *not being a woman.* the threat she got on that first ship— a period piece! if it was a male author, then that’s gross. but it’s not, a woman wrote it! lila also proceeded to burn the whole goddamn ship down. sometimes authors don’t want to write traditionally feminine

characters!!! sometimes women want to write about what THEY can relate to! and ve schwab, as a queer woman, probably did that. so now we come back to the question of WHY are you calling out only female authors for this? you could have accomplished the same goal by just including books and authors that you deemed Respectable. not to be that bitch, but there was literally no reason for you to post this lmfao. i think we should first tackle the issue that is men having access to keyboards, and

maybe then we can broaden our horizons by critiquing everything women do thats decidedly not perfect.                            

We created this blog to discuss these topics, so we welcome other opinions and interpretations!

To reiterate our goal and perhaps clarify... male authors already receive enough publicity and analysis - to the point they eclipse, at times, their female peers, even when it comes to writing female characters. How wonderful of them to treat fictional women as fellow human beings! (How shameless of others to treat them as their personal sexual fantasy!) Yet we would like to hear what women have to say about themselves. It is why we focus exclusively on their works.

Furthermore, we believe these works as worthy of analysis as any text written by a man. And it is precisely because of this conviction - their books potentially as grandiose, as mediocre as any man’s - that we will not refrain from criticising them. To treat them differently would be implicitly agreeing with the notion they aren’t as intellectually engaging as men’s writings.

Moreover, we are not advocating for “feminist” books from women. In fact, we dislike this qualifier: too often misattributed, rarely useful, always commercial. We desire convincing female characters, as talented as they are flawed, as just as they can be immoral. Thus, while we have grown tired of uncreative, unnecessary sexism in fantasy, we are not expecting perfect little militants in every story. We expect to be moved and stunned, to be left inspired or reflecting on what we read.

I hope this has cleared up our intent with the blog. Now, for the specific series discussed...

While I could see this be Bardugo’s aim for Alina’s journey, I disagree with it being well executed. Narratively speaking, I do not think Alina was treated fairly and was able to make true choices. Throughout all three books, Alina remained unobservant and somewhat self-centered, never challenging the affirmations of others and instead regarding them as truth. Let’s take the example of the Darkling: she accepts his supposed initial good intentions and views him, to the very end, as some kind of lost and anguished “boy”. Yet that isn’t what the text shows - on the contrary, the Darkling is a hollow character that spent centuries sitting on his behind, doing nothing for his fellow Grisha. Alina is never given the chance to realise this and reevalute what happened to her.

Beyond this, I feel like Alina’s journey was contrived from the start. Bardugo does not allow her to see beyond the words of others, nor does she allow her to actually grow. Alina’s crush on Mal and her fixation on remaining with him - despite him disliking what she is! - stems from a child’s anxiety and solitude. Instead of becoming her own woman, making her own choices and yes, having to face losing relationships, Alina regresses to the safety of her childhood, powerless and normal, just like Mal. Let us remember that, to remain with him, she sealed her powers within herself, endangering her health! So symbolically, it is a slap in the face: just when she embraced her powers - meaning letting go of her fears, of Mal -, she loses it all and go back to square one.

This is why I don’t find Alina’s journey satisfying. Even if it hurts, I wish to see female characters confronted to their fears and their flaws, and grow from them*. That is not what we witnessed with Alina. And: why is it that female characters must be “depowered”? Why does the Darkling (and Ilya Morozova) get to keep his immense powers, must live with his guilt, yet Alina loses every and any scrap of magic? Why is she punished for her greed so much, when she hardly is the greediest? (This echoes also Genya’s “punishment”, so heavily tied to her being a beautiful woman and beauty being, in Bardugo’s world, a key quality for women. Nikolai’s monstruous transformation is cruel but never specifically targeted at his sex.)

Why is it female characters only whose “happy” ending involve going back to their boyfriend’s house, complete with potential children? In a fantasy world, is it the best we can offer to these characters? Why does “making her own choice” usually involve them being unambitious and - I am barely caricaturing - happy housewives? Where are the female characters being greedy, powerful to the point of madness, and fascinatingly ruthless? Where are the genius, the good but scheming inventors and princesses? Where are the female Darklings and the female Nikolais?

Yes, it may not be Alina’s story and that’s alright. But reading the story she received, I could not help wondering: is it truly her story, or is it her story in a narrative unfair to women?

As for Lila... what Schwab stated confusingly in interviews or twitter threads cannot be used to analyse the text itself, though it may help. In this case, it holds a very different perspective from what she may affirm outside of it, so let’s keep close to what she wrote.

I disagree that it is a period piece. Her series is firmly set in a fantasy version of our world, with four alternate but equally real Londons, and with interactions between them that differentiate her England from ours. She chose to keep this England similar to ours, so the departure from it could be obvious; she chose, again, to have Lila threatened with rape by sailors even in Red London, her full invention. She chose, still, to never mention the miserable reality of lots of poor women like Lila in our England - namely, prostitution. She picked what suited her, as authors do, yet could not come up with any other plot than sexual assault. That she is a woman does not excuse her utter lack of imagination on that front! I find the notion that female characters are condemned to sexual threats depressing, on top of insulting towards authors who still strive to be creative.

And this is all ignoring what Schwab forced her other female characters to endure, which is sexual slavery, somewhat coerced pregnancies and social isolation, plus being sexist caricatures and butchered so men could be sad about it. In that context, what is Schwab exactly saying about women, if even her heroine is misogynistic and desperately trying to escape this reality? If Lila isn’t a woman - which she is in the text, she never denies being one, she only affirms being different, meaning a full human being! -, does that mean women’s place is in caricature and distress and death? If she is, then must they reject their womanhood and deride other women to be in the spotlight?

And this is all, again, ignoring that Schwab who, yes, admitted wanting to write a female character she wished to see in fiction, that resembled her... had Lila’s whole development derailed in favour of male characters. Lila’s ambition and excessiveness vanished in a third book dedicated to temptation! Lila’s anger and recklessness receded in front of Holland, all so we could learn about his sad backstory. Which involved, as salt to the wound, the stereotypes of a greedy girlfriend and the ever failing mother Schwab is so fond of.

Our post never suggested that women should not write non traditionally feminine women. Rather, that would be quite refreshing! I would love to read about these women that we hardly see.

Is it what Schwab wrote, though? Lila indeed crossdresses and appears androgynous enough to sometimes pass as a man (not always, in a manner that is most convenient to the author). Yet: she constantly mocks other women for being vapid, gossiping, feminine, in a word weak. Yet: Schwab has her, in the second book, attend a ball dressed femininely and feeling insecure about it, all to state she is - quoting! - “not most girls” and have Kell, her love interest, compliments her. She has the happy tomboy reaffirmed as able to be feminine and beautiful that way! How is that not depressing for every woman and girl who never want to be feminine? Why did Schwab choose to have her in a dress instead of a suit, like Lila would probably have preferred? Why did Schwab choose to strictly divide women and men into two categories, dress-wearing and not-dress-wearing? Why is Lila alone in her plight as an androgynous woman? Why didn’t this fantasy world have women and men dressed in a way they felt comfortable with?

This isn’t a period piece. Schwab was free to make that choice... and she did not. I would add, too, that women in real life have always struggled and fought against misogyny. They were women and they were still complex human beings and they still tried to live as comfortably as they could. Sometimes they failed, yes, because society wouldn’t want them to. But women like Lila have existed, and behaved like her, and dressed like her, and dreamed as big as her. Why should not we expect as much of fiction, then?

Sidenote: I am especially critical of that awful “tomboy turns into a lady” trope that fandom will seize it and run. It is disheartening to see countless edits and fanarts of Lila depicting her as feminine instead of androgynous as she was written, and often in feminine clothing at that. So if even the narrative later ends up confirming it...

*Or perhaps spiral down, willingfully blind. Alina’s story isn’t supposed to be a tragedy, however, so this does not apply here.

(If you don’t mind, I would like to hear why you found the post’s wording pretentious?)

[changingourdestiny]

Beyond Light Part 4: The Lightborn Captain

Summary:

Fireteam Paralight have successfully tracked down Phylaks. But after the baroness mocks Tif for their rank as a captain and association to Mithrax, both she and Fireteam Paralight quickly learn just why she was made a captain in the first place...

Previous Part: Here

Next Part: Here

As Fireteam Paralight entered the Nexus, Phylaks contacted them again, “They say you all are great warriors. Rae, Slayer of the Red Legion. Blaze, Destroyer of Oryx. Marcia, Light’s Shadow. But you I’ve never heard of…”

“I think she means you, Tif.” Berhane whispered. “I’m Tif. Captain of House Light and right-hand of Misraakskel.” Tif replied. “A human captain? Bah!” Phylaks began to laugh, “What a joke.” Tif let out a low growl as Phylaks continued, “You all are built with machine-weakness. God-dependence. You flee from battles you think you’ll lose. Prove you are worth my time.”

Tif muttered a curse in Eliksni under her breath as they continued into the Nexus. “What did Phylaks mean by ‘god dependence’? The Traveller?” Ghost asked, “I don’t feel dependent on or limited by the Traveller. I feel close to the Traveller. Protected. Or…I did.”

“What do you mean?” Rae asked.

“Ever since you got that splinter…I feel further away than ever.”

“Don’t worry. The second this power does anything to hurt you or me, it’s gone. I promise.”

“Thanks, Rae.”

“Don’t worry ya little core, Ghost.” Marcia grinned, “As someone who had Darkness that did hurt them, I can say- WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!”

Marcia looked on with a horrified expression as she spotted a large Vex marching with a group of smaller ones. “Is that a harpy…with legs?” Rae stared with a confused expression. “Who cares what it is, just kill it!” Blaze called out, gun at the ready.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Rae’s Dawnblade faded from her hands as the last of the Vex burned away as Blaze took out the cube powering the barrier blocking their way. “We should be close by now.” Marcia sighed as she reloaded her gun. “I see now you are a worthy challenge. A chance to hone my blade.” Phylaks’s voice came through once again, “Come find me, machine-spawns. I am waiting.”

“Alright then. Let’s keep pushing.” Rae said as the fireteam made their way deeper into the Nexus. As they did, Rae noticed Tif looking a little peeved. “You okay, Tif?” she asked. “Yeah…it’s just…” Tif began, “Phylaks is wrong. Just because I’m a Guardian, doesn’t mean I’m no less of a captain! And I’ll prove it to her! With or without Stasis.”

“That’s the spirit!” Marcia grinned, giving Tif a playful nudge, “Let’s give her a piece of our mind and let nothing get in our way!”

“Another Brig up ahead.”

“SON OF A-!!”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Fireteam Paralight arrive at what seemed to be piece of land surrounded by radiolarian fluid. Nearly as soon as they arrived, a ketch appeared overhead and Phylaks emerged from it, cackling as she landed on the ground, “I will bring your corpse to Eramiskel. I will forge myself a ring from your armour.”

“You won’t! We’ll defeat you!” Tif countered. “Ha!” Phylaks laughed, “You really think that you, a human playing pretend, can defeat me? I always thought Misraaks was a fool when I head of his ‘house’. But the fact he made a weakling of a human a captain? He’s truly an idiot.”

Tif tensed up, “Take. That. Back.”

“What-?”

“TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT MISRAAKSKEL!” Tif roared.

“Why should I? He’s an idiot kelling a house of idiots.”

Tif growled, “Rae, Blaze, Marcia. Stay back.”

“W-what?” Rae stared at Tif in disbelief. While her captain-esque mask hid their expression, Rae could make out Tif’s eyes behind the semi-transparent eyepiece that was designed to give off the illusion of Eliksni eyes. Tif’s expression wasn’t their cheery or determined one. It was rage. Tif took several steps forward until they were between their Fireteam and Phylaks. They glared directly glared at the baroness and growled out in Eliksni, “She da hu, et? Sha da go do bo ra!”

Phylaks narrowed her eyes at Tif as Blaze and Rae’s went wide. “What? What’s happening?” Marcia glanced between her fireteammates and Tif and Phylaks. “I recognise that phrase.” Ghost replied, “That’s what Taniks said when he was challenging us in the ways of old. Or at least that’s how Variks described it.”

“Tif’s challenging Phylaks by themself…” Rae muttered.

“Are they crazy?! They’ll get themself killed!” Blaze exclaimed.

Phylaks glared down at Tif before chuckling, “You may be small and weak…but I appreciate an opponent with guts. Come then! Show me what a ‘captain’ of House Light is capable of!”

Tif brandished their arc blade and lunged at Phylaks who managed dodge out of the way and fired at Tif with her own gun. Tif took a few shots to the shoulder but shook it off and fired her submachine gun at Phylaks.

Rae, Blaze and Marcia looked on as the two fought each other. Blaze’s expression was one of concern and fear as she reached for Firelight. Rae stopped her by putting her hand on her shoulder, “No.”

“But-!”

“This is Tif’s fight. If she gets in real trouble, we’ll intervene.”

Blaze, albeit hesitantly, removed her hand from her gun’s hilt, feeling helpless as she watched Tif take on Phalyks.

 “Surprising strength for such a tiny creature!” Phylaks chuckled as she teleported from platform-to-platform. Tif gave chase as the ground beneath them began to disappear, the others following suit but not engaging in the fight. Tif could feel themself running out of steam as they began over-exerting their Light, yet they kept pushing. Rae had never seen Tif like this. In battle, Tif would usually be chipper and easy-going, almost seeming to enjoy the battle and treating it like a fun experience. Now they seemed like a whole different person. Serious, determined, unrelenting, even aggressive to a point. This was it, she realised. This was why Mithrax appointed Tif as a Captain. Tif was more than just an optimistic soul who was friendly to everyone. They’re a strong leader who never gives up on others or themself; who would fight until they reached their limit and would still keep pushing if it meant protecting others; who put the safety of their friends and allies before their own. The best way Rae could describe Tif was the living definition of a Titan; a defender of all.

“GYAH!!”

Rae was snapped out of her thoughts as Tif went skidding across the floor as their helmet tumbled next to them, a large gash carved in it. Tif went to get to their feet but was grabbed by the neck and slammed against one of the blocks jutting up from the ground by Phylaks. Even in their situation, clawing at Phylak’s arm, Tif never dropped their expression. Their eyes wide with rage filling to the brim never looking away from Phylaks’s and their teeth bared as they struggled to break free from the baroness’s grip. “I must say, I’m impressed.” Phylaks began, “For a machine-spawn, you definitely put up a fight and I can respect that. But it still wasn’t enough to beat me.” Rae went to grab her gun to get the large Fallen away from Tif but stopped upon seeing a familiar shard floating above the platform, beginning to glow orange. “I’ll make your death quick as a reward.” Phylaks raised her arm as stasis began to gather in her hand. Tif squeezed their eyes shut as a familiar surge of energy began to swirl within them before letting out an enraged yell as a blast of stasis came surging outwards, sending Phylaks stumbling backwards. Phylaks looked back at Tif who had stasis swirling around them as they glared angrily at her, raising their fist. “I’m. Not. Done.” Tif growled as they clenched their fist which became covered in stasis crystals. “Good.” Phylaks hissed, a grin evident in her voice. Phylaks began to send waves upon waves of stasis towards Tif who swiftly weaved between them while sending out walls of their own. However, Tif seemed to be aiming at different points throughout the battlefield instead of towards Phylaks. That combined with Phylaks’s spikes made it hard for the baroness to move throughout the battlefield…yet Tif was able to squeeze past with ease. “Can you see them?” Blaze asked, desperately searching for Tif in the sea of stasis. “No, it’s too cluttered.” Marcia sighed in frustration, “We just have to hope Tif knows what they’re doing.”

“Hiding, are you?” Phylaks chuckled darkly, “That won’t defeat me, machine-spawn.”

“Nah. Just using size to my advantage!” Tif leapt up from behind a spike towards Phylaks and grabbed onto her face, using their stasis in an attempt to freeze her from the top down. Phylaks roared out in pain as she scratched at Tif’s back. Tif cried out in pain as Phylaks’s claws pierced their armour but refused to let go as Phylaks’s movements began to slow as the stasis began to freeze her in place. “Never call me or my house idiots again!” Tif yelled, “I’m Tif Kariuki the Lightborn Captain! And I will never let ANYONE hurt my friends!” As Phylaks slowly stopped moving, Tif leapt up, using Phylaks’s shoulders for momentum, and with a mighty yell, slammed down onto her with their frozen fist, shattering Phylaks into pieces. Tif landed on the ground amongst the frozen shards, breathing heavily as the stasis faded from them once more. They saw Phylaks’s splinter lying amongst the frozen shards and picked it up before turning to where Rae, Blaze and Marcia were watching, slack-jawed in awe at what they just witnessed. “That…” Marcia breathed, “…was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.” Tif smiled brightly before picking up her helmet and placing it back on, “Let’s go back. I’m super tired now.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “You guys should’ve seen it!” Blaze beamed as she sat by the fire with Drifter, Marcia and Eris back at the campsite, “I’ve never seen Tif like that! They were all like ‘Rah!’ and ‘Ba-boom!’ and- oh man, you should’ve been there. Phylaks deserved all of what she got!”

“Sounds like you got quite a show.” Drifter chuckled, “Though I’ll admit, wouldn’t have guessed so much rage could fit into that tiny kid.”

“Looks truly can be deceiving.” Marcia added as she looked over at Rae and Tif who were briefing the Stranger on what happened. “And that’s the majority of what happened.” Rae finished explaining. “I see.” The Stranger nodded before turning to Tif, “Well done. You’ve taken to stasis like a fish to water.”

“D’aww…thanks!” Tif grinned, blushing with embarrassment. The Stranger chuckled before continuing, “Eramis’s presence on Europa is not happenstance. Temptation set the wheels in motion, but obsession propelled her here. To destroy the Light with an army of Darkness – she and her followers make those selfish choices moment to moment. The Darkness places a spotlight on our desires as it once did me and those I cared about. For a time, I had forgotten…Humanity relies on our selfless acts to bring about a better world. Darkness is no more than a tool with which we do so. With splinters of Darkness still in hand, Eramis remains an immediate danger to humanity. Look within. Focus your power. Let it grow. The Ziggurat awaits.” Rae gave her a nod before turning back towards the campfire, “Marcia. We’re heading back up to the Ziggurat.”

“I’ma comin’.” Marcia called back as she got to her feet and began following them up to the Ziggurat. The whispers returned as they ascended the stairs. “I want fried chickeeeeeeen.” Marcia whispered, mimicking them. “Eramis stiiiiiiiiiiinks!” Tif whispered back, stifling a giggle. “Guys, knock it off!” Rae giggled. Upon reaching the top, Tif took out the splinter they got from Phylaks and held it towards the shard on the left. The shard glowed brightly as Tif felt another surge of energy flow through her. “Anything?” Rae asked. Tif held up their arm and summoned an orb if stasis in their hand. Their eyes lit up as they turned to Marcia and Rae, “I-I did it!”

“Nice!” Marcia grinned before jolting as she felt another pull, similar to the first time they arrived at the Ziggurat. “You feel that too?” Rae asked. “Yep.” Marcia replied, “Let’s go find another shard.”

 To Be Continued…

[mgkconfessions]

1000% this isn’t going to last. In that little “love montage” video or whatever the hell it was & her asking if he even remembers the beginning bc he’s always so high and drunk and it only seems like it’s going back to how it was before, there’s no way she’s gonna be able to put up with it. But yea she’s definitely a fucking idiot or nutjob for starting with the twin flame shit and all those insane questions/comments on LaLa n randells podcast hinting if they might get married or have any kids off the rip. Because she’s gonna end up dipping whether he’s purposely self-sabotaging or if he’s actually in love with her and then we’re gonna have 2017-2018 kells again only I think a lot worse which can only lead to a very small amount of outcomes...most bad. I’m honestly scared for when it happens because I really don’t think it’s a matter of “if” it’ll happen...it’s gonna happen.

I don’t see Megan as someone who is flexible and adapts to someone else’s lifestyle, because she simply doesn’t want to, but she would have to do that if she wanted to be with Kells, because their lives are very different. Too different that their lifestyles could get easily along without any adjustments. Kells can only change so much and Megan doesn’t seem like she wants to change either, so I don’t see there any future for them, because neither of them will be capable and willing to put up with each other’s life in the long run. Megan is really hyping everyone up about this relationship, even Kells, although she doesn’t seem to have any intentions to actually get serious with him. It depends so much on who and how they break up, if there was any drama or of it will be a mutual “we want to stay friends” explanation, but I can still imagine Kells to tweet about how sad he feels, where it’s clear that he’s hurting. If this ends in a disaster it will be worse than with Hedi, also because now the public will mock them so hard for their love declarations and how they were twin flames. It won’t be nice for both of them.

[thehonestreader]

A Gathering of Shadows by V.E. Schwab

Rating: B+

To see the original review click here.

It’s been four months since the Black Night swept through Red London. Four months since Lila Bard left her old world and replaced it with life as a pirate, the one thing she’s always wanted. Four months since Kell bound his life to Rhy’s and cast Vitari into what remains of Black London on Holland’s dying body. But despite appearances, things haven’t returned to normal. King Maxim and Queen Emira have been colder to Kell despite him saving their son, treating him more like a prisoner than a prince. And with the Essen Tasch, the Element Games, about to start, life in London is thrown into chaos and growing excitement as the city prepares the stadiums and the competitors from three different nations begin to arrive. But in another London, a London that’s starved and desperate for magic and power, a new king has risen. And to save his world he’s willing to risk the lives of another.

–

It’s so weird for me to be rereading books, and it goes to show that my mood or where I happen to be in life can really influence my feelings about them. I remember back in 2017 being a bit annoyed by the Essen Tasch. Back then, The Hunger Games craze was still happening somewhat, where it seemed like practically every other book had some sort of competition happening in it, and I was just sick of the whole idea. I remember being glad that they didn’t take up a huge part of the story. Whereas now I wish they had. It’s a weird turn for me.

I still like these new characters, even though now they’re not really “new” for me anymore. It’s nice to finally have Alucard show up. Schwab still does a good job of making her characters feel like real people and giving them layers. Last time I used Holland as an example, this time I’m going to be talking about Maxim and Emira Maresh, specifically when it comes to their treatment of Kell. They simultaneously treat him as their son and their property. It’s something Kell mentions to Lila in the first book, that he belongs to the Crown, and the fact that Lila mocks him for it makes me so unimaginably angry at her. Because here the Mareshes show that in many ways it’s true. They say that he is their son, but they also clearly treat him differently than Rhy. They say that the two are equals, but Kell is punished for the Black Night while Rhy’s part in it is never even mentioned by them. And using what I know from The Steel Prince, Maxim has been hunting after Antari magicians for decades. So when did he stop thinking of Kell as a tool and start thinking about him as his son? Did he ever? There’s a subtle way that Schwab has written these two people that makes you wonder if their actions are intentional or not, that makes you question what their true feelings for Kell are, and it’s such a strong showing of her mastery of crafting interesting characters.

Tough love time. The pacing could definitely use a bit of work. The story ends on a cliffhanger, which means that the bulk of the conflict and action are left until the very end, with not much in the middle. There’s the games, but like I said before, they don’t really take up all that much time. The rest of the story is pretty much just drama with most of it feeling like drama for drama’s sake. I can definitely see the second book slump this time where I didn’t see it before.

I’m being extra hard on this series this go-around and I know it. I’ll say this in every review: I love these books, I love this series, I love this author. I’m just using my critical eye since that first-read infatuation isn’t there anymore.

-Review by C.M.

[alistonjdrake]

Part Seven: The Stranger Queen

Queen Brandye Zych Mother to: Prince Toli & Prince Calvino Born: Year 1739 after the fall of the Saints Died: Year 1768 after the fall of the Saints

Again, it was not King Frederick’s decision or inclination to marry Brandye. In fact, in 1759, after returning home from a Rhine tour due to the news of the dead Queen Filipa, King Frederick had never heard of the 20-year-old Gegraen princess. 

It was King Vadik of Oskya’s idea.

King Vadik married in 1749, the same year of his coronation, to Lukova Georgiy, Grand Duchess of Slovy. Oskya has a long, bitter history with Gegra. The two countries have never truly considered the other enemies, and at times have worked together, but conflict arises due to ownership of the Highlands and Oskyan armies using Gegraen land. Petty things like borrowed money never been paid back, incorrectly drawn or generous maps, whether people born in certain areas are more Gegraen or more Oskyan. The annoyance that is Highlander Geg, which sounds less like Lowlander Geg and more like a mix of Oskyi and Letrossi. Gegraens and Oskyans have always argued and in 1759, things were no different. 

While King Frederick was at war in the Rhine, he requested the help of Oskya to supply his army. King Vadik could have moved his troops down through Slovy or Abenland, both nations more or less owned by Oskya, but he chose to have them go down through Gegra. The main reasons for this being Slovy has excruciatingly worse weather than Oskya and the journey would have been harsher, and until the end of 1759, Abenland would still be a republic. Since 1743, the lower class citizens of Abenland revolted against the ruling dukes and ran them out of the country who then took to begging King Vadik to storm the nation and take it back. Until the end of 1759, the Republic of Abenland would be fairly prosperous until inner struggles would make it ripe for Oskya to attack and it would fall into anarchy, but that was currently not of concern. 

Marching through Gegra made them angry, and like many things, the problem was solved by marriage. One thing that made Gegra especially mad was being left out of the deals between Escan and Oskya. Escan was quickly growing a reputation and seemingly becoming the richest nation on the continent. 

Brandye Zych was the daughter Archduchess Elżbieta Zych, sister to Prince Jakub Zych, who at the time was Gegra’s ovig marska. Gegra has twelve ruling families, and a main governing branch made up of the patriarchs of said families that claim to be equal partners in governing matters. They vote to elect to their ovig marska. But it is noted that out of eleven other possible families, Vadik selected a princess from one closest to the inner circle. 

She was raised in the lowlands, in the capital of Jelberok. In her youth, she spoke Geg, Oskyi, and Kellish (as before 1761 and Kellish submission to both Oskya and Escan, the fanciful language was considered posh and impressive to learn). She spent her summers in her mother’s vast vacation home, was no stranger to scandalous courts as Gegra praises its industry of courtesans, she was a strong supporter of the arts, and was known for her good spirits. 

Brandye was actually excited about the idea of living the only home she’d ever known, traveling all the way to Escan, and being queen in a country where she did not speak a word of the language. Perhaps to her, it was more exciting than the alternative, as Gegraen nobles usually marry their cousins or are doled out to Oskyan lords who are considerably more culturally and socially restrained. Escan had a reputation. 

In truth, King Vadik had been in talk with the Zychs before Queen Filipa’s death, at first in the hopes of introducing Brandye as a possible mistress. With the timing, Brandye ended up arriving shortly after the funeral to the great dislike of the Merlo family but given she arrived with Oskyan troops, very little was said or done. 

The only language they shared was Oskyi. So many in Escan had ignored King Frederick’s Oskyan background as the years stretched on. So many had forgotten their king liked to hunt, had spent his early years in the snow-covered mountains, and grew facial hair like their stern allies. His speaking Oskyi with his new wife brought back the loud whispers of how much of an outsider he truly was. 

And despite Brandye’s taste for dancing and art, she did not fit in as well as she would have thought. The Escana did not take to her and she did not take to them. In her early days, she suffered from heat strokes often, fainting from long stretches of being out in the open. She did not like the food, was often laughed at for her attempts at learning Escan, sunburned easily, and would be sick often in the beginning. King Frederick liked her enough to get her pregnant before returning to the Rhine. He would say speaking to her reminded him of his childhood and very quickly grew fond of her.

The fondness would not last very long.

Queen Brandye had many factors working for her. When she had Prince Toli, the nation was happy in the way they had been when Prince Cidro was born. Prince Toli was a living symbol of an alliance. He tied Escan and Gegra together in blood. There were festivals and days of celebration. As a Gegraen, the thought of her husband having paramours did not bother it. Adultery is such a huge part of Gegra’s culture, especially among the rich and ruling classes. Most families grow up with their parent’s live-in courtesan being treated as just another family member. Such things were familiar to Brandye, as in reality, she had no “legal” father as her mother had stayed unmarried and had a close relationship with a courtesan instead. 

While politics and government were not her strong suits, she relied on Prince Sebastian whenever King Frederick was away. Although the two of them could not talk very well, Prince Sebastian took it upon himself to help his sister-in-law learn Escan. She still liked to dance, and drink, and sing, even if most of the court saw her as strange and unapproachable. Queen Brandye surrounded herself with Gegraen ladies who were just as ostracized by the court. 

The trouble started when Prince Toli spoke his first words. In Geg. It continued in 1761 when Queen Brandye was pregnant once more and now with fewer ladies who could speak to her because King Frederick did not want his children unable to understand what he thought should be their native language. But 1761 also marks the year Oskya and Escan divided the Kells between themselves. Escan took the West Kells, and to the rest of the world finally became known as the Escana Empire. 

But it also marks the year a Kellish woman would come to Graza to start her career as a palace maid and at the age of 19, would catch the eye of King Frederick. 

Queen Brandye was not as close to King Frederick’s paramours as perhaps Queen Trella had been. They did not share a dinner table with them, she did not call out to them in public (for she could not call out to anyone), but she was cordial. On holidays, she would give them minor gifts. She would never complain when King Frederick visited their bedchamber instead of hers, and as she was reaching the height of her pregnancy she understood the pattern where King Frederick momentarily ventured elsewhere.

It is also important to note, in Gegra all courtesans come from families of worth and so did King Frederick’s long term paramours. They were all courtiers who came from wealth and respected families and often when King Frederick broke his relationship with one, he’d take it upon himself to organize marriages and deals for them. 

Queen Brandye was in confinement when King Frederick met the Kellish maid Luca Breacher and she probably would have prevented it otherwise. Luca Breacher practiced a unique hold over King Frederick and his judgment. He’d had dalliances with members of the serving class before but it was always something he discarded quickly, but he elevated Luca. Luca’s entry into court life overshadowed Prince Calvino’s birth. She was given her own rooms close to his, expensive jewelry and dresses, he would be seen escorting her around the gardens, servants would gossip that they slept in the same bed. 

Queen Brandye was quickly infuriated. On her end, she was infatuated with her husband. She claimed to love him despite his faults and promiscuity. He’d always been kind to her, affectionate at times, but never going to the same grand lengths and gestures he afforded to a girl who months before had been scrubbing the halls. And Luca was known for her temper and bad attitude, going as far as to have (supposedly) slapped King Frederick in the face when he tried to leave her bed one morning to have breakfast with Queen Brandye. 

Luca’s jealously was known to the whole court. One by one, King Frederick got rid of his other paramours. Some of which he’d had for years, some of which it was rumored he had children with, some of which had played a hand in government. 

There were a few moments where Queen Brandye and Luca interacted. One most notable where Luca wore something similar to the queen and shouted loudly for all to hear that she cared very little for her, mocked her accent, and wished her the worse. At a New Year’s party, Queen Brandye demanded she bow to her, and when Luca refused she called her an “insolent little girl” and had her dragged out by guards only for King Frederick to relent and let her back in after she cried. 

To the people of Graza, Luca Breacher would disappear suddenly in 1763 and it would be a relief to many. Especially Queen Brandye. But the changes in King Frederick were evident. He would not take another paramour and if he did sleep around there were instances where he’d have scratch marks on his cheek the next day. When asked by Prince Sebastian where they came from, he once said, “I found a Kellish lioness and I’m afraid she won’t let me go.” 

Even with Luca Breacher gone from the public, the damage had been done. Queen Brandye and King Frederick’s marriage never repaired. He would outright yell at her in public when she complained, he fired all of her Gegraen ladies as Prince Toli grew older and spoke more Geg than he did Escan. He would take her authority over the education and care of her children out of her hands completely. Queen Brandye would refuse to be seen with him until he “repented for his whoredom”.

Queen Brandye became recluse and bitter but in truth, she was isolated. Her beginning had been comfortable. She’d been surrounded by friends that traveled with her from Geg, had a husband who was comfortable speaking a language they shared, and although was seen as an oddity, was not so poorly received. But in the second half of her marriage, she could still barely speak Escan and was now surrounded by people who only spoke it and mocked her for her inability. Her husband did not speak to her at all and when he did, it was during their fights. And she was now known as the queen who’d almost gotten into physical altercations with a mistress. And was considered a hypocrite for doing so considering her upbringing and earlier interactions with paramours.

In her own way, Queen Brandye did try to repair the relationship but King Frederick seemed strictly against her. He did not want to be near her and was in secret talks with Prince Sebastian about the possibilities of being granted a divorce.  

He would not need one. In 1768, he and Queen Brandye would journey around some towns in Escan to grace the opening of schools he’d built. They would both get sick but while King Frederick would recover, Queen Brandye would not be so lucky. By the time they returned to Graza, she would be near death and choking on her own lungs. 

King Frederick would spend the most time he had with her in years when she lay on her deathbed but when she took her last breath, the stories would say he’d be married again within the week to a woman who had never disappeared at all.  

[lyricalt]

[destiny] devil you don’t

rating: T ship: (kinda) shiro-4/mithrax note: something short, though i may continue it. written for a curiouscat prompt, lol.

Mithrax knows of Shiro-4, the Fallen assassin, the kell killer. Most of what he has heard comes from the mouths of his own people — a machine ghoul that wears a patchwork cloak of House Banners, a nightmare that has made even the most vicious barons wary for their own lives.

Mithrax never imagines he would be speaking with Shiro-4 himself, albeit through a video feed under the supervision of his two Guardian friends.

“Devils armor,” Shiro-4 repeats. His tone is polite. He gives Mithrax an inquiring glance.

The Hunter by Mithrax’s side smiles, leaning slightly within his ghost’s sightlines. Mithrax doesn’t think the Hunter is deliberately trying to block him from Shiro-4’s view, but Mithrax senses a certain level of… shielding.

“Yessir. Thought you might have a spare set for Mithrax to wear.”

“Can I ask why?”

Again, polite. This time, Mithrax steps forward and addresses Shiro-4 himself. He begins to give a brief outline of their plan, of Eramis, and their resources. He likes to think his own tone is polite.

Shiro-4 interrupts midway through his explanation. He says, in a near perfect High Devils accent, “You can use your own language.”

Mithrax almost misses it — the barest hint of a taunt, a small curl of smugness in his words. No honorifics used, despite the captain’s armaments Mithrax wears. Shiro-4 doesn’t interrupt out of kindness. He could have very well been mocking Mithrax or threatening him. Either seems likely.

Mithrax cannot afford to be petty but he sees Shiro's mix-matched cloak through the video feed and bitterness wells up inside him.

He continues speaking in Human.

It is not out of spite. It is what he has told the Warlock and Hunter before; docked things do not word themselves. It is, mostly, in theory, not out of spite.

And Shiro-4 doesn’t interrupt again until Mithrax is finished.

In the end, Shiro-4 lifts his chin, the bright core of his mouth glittering. “Sure. I have a couple of sets available. ‘Fraid I stashed most of my trophies underwater on Venus. I can have it delivered within the week, Vex nonsense permitting.”

Mithrax hides his surprise. He murmurs his thanks as the Hunter jumps back in to give Shiro the rest of their report. It is only until after Shiro-4 signs off that Mithrax feels the insulting sting of trophies.

"Well, that was easy," the Hunter says. “We best get moving. He only gave you a week.”

The Warlock glances at them, having kept silent until now. She snorts and goes back to her datapad, muttering ‘Hunters’ as she does.

Mithrax pauses. This isn’t his first time being baffled by Guardian ways. He feels as if he’ll be learning forever. Gathering all the patience he can muster, he turns to the Hunter.

The Hunter shrugs. "You need to steal the Devils armor from him."

“Why? Shiro-4 says one week, armor will come.”

"It'll earn his respect way more than if you wait for him to give it to you. Why else would Shiro tell us to wait a week?"

"I assume because Shiro-4 is busy with Vanguard-kell."

The Hunter waves him off with an air of certainty that worries Mithrax more than reassures him. "Nah. Nah. We gotta steal it. He basically told us to steal the armor from him.”

Mithrax must look skeptical, because the Hunter blows out air from his mouth in an expression of exasperation.

“There was no reason why Shiro would’ve have told us his stash was on Venus,” he says, “And I don’t know about you, but underwater was a very generous hint, for a Hunter.”

The Warlock tilts her head. “I believe Shiro means to test you, Mithrax.”

As a gesture of good will or insult, Mithrax wants to ask, but from the hopeful way his fireteam looks, he will believe the former. At the very least, a challenge feels like familiar territory. Much like the ways of old.

“Eia,” he says, rising up to enter the new coordinates for his skiff. “Then I accept.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Holland Gets a Dog

So, I had an anonymous asker request that I write something nice for Holland, and when I and @pinkcupboardwitch thought it out, we came up with basically the best Nice Thing for Holland - a dog. So, to the anonymous asker (I wish you hadn’t been anonymous, I’d love to tag you in this, I hope you see it!), I promise to write three nice things for Holland Vosijk, and this is the first one.  Holland Gets a Dog

"What is that?"

Holland raised an eyebrow, arms crossed in front of himself. 

In the pile of colorfully dressed Red Londoners politely making their way through the market, Holland stood out like an exceptionally tall, broad-shouldered, pale sore thumb. That he was wearing all black on a warm June day did not help him blend in. "What is what, princeling?"

"That." Kell pointed at the ground next to Holland's feet, where a large ball of white fluff with a black button nose and bright black eyes sat with its tail thumping cheerfully on the ground. When Kell pointed at it, the thumping of its tail sped up and it began to pant, mouth open in something like a smile. 

Holland let the silence draw out between them until it became truly insulting, and then said dryly, "It's a dog."

"Yes, I gathered that from looking at it. Why do you have a dog and why are you here?"

"To answer your second question first, I'm here to walk around in your market being terribly conspicuous just to see how long it takes you to no longer be able to resist bothering me by attempting to start a conversation." Holland glanced around. "By my estimation, it took less than five minutes. It takes your brother more time than that to pick one person to focus on at a party. I must be terribly interesting to you."

If Kell hadn't known better, he'd have sworn Holland was smiling.

Holland reached out, plucked an apple off a pile of them at a vendor's stall, and tossed them a coin. After a second, he grabbed a small basket of blueberries and tossed another coin after the first. The vendor caught them easily, calling out a ‘thank you, come see us again!’ in cheerful Arnesian. Holland answered politely in Arnesian as well, watching Kell grit his teeth. 

Holland held up a single blueberry. “Watch this.”

The dog sat back on its haunches, leaned back, and put its paws up to beg. Holland dropped the blueberry and the dog caught it. Holland was definitely smiling now.

"Are you... mocking me by feeding a dog?"

“Why do you always assume I'm mocking you? Can't I just want to make a dog do tricks in the middle of a city I've never lived in in a world that's not my own?"

"Because you say everything to me the exact same way you're speaking now. Why do you have a dog, Holland?"

"Hm. Maybe I am mocking you," Holland said thoughtfully, as though he hadn't heard the question. "I do enjoy the colors your face turns when I do. Do you want to give her a treat?"

"She's a her?"

"Yes. Do you feel a pressing need to check and verify?"

"I. Um. No."

"Good." Holland pushed right past him, walking the other direction, the white dog trotting happily at his heels. He tossed it another blueberry. Kell knew he should stand still, or walk a different way, or literally do anything but follow Holland Vosijk like a puppy himself.

He waited exactly five seconds before he groaned, threw his hands in the air, and jogged to catch back up with him. 

"Holland!"

The older Antari looked over his shoulder. "Can I help you, Maresh? I'm trying to take a dog for a walk. Can you really not resist me?"

"No, I-" Kell couldn't quite figure out how to even explain it. I find you having a dog really suspicious. I cannot conceive of a world wherein you are interested in anything except sarcasm and eating all our fruit. The idea of you with a dog seems incredibly menacing somehow. None of it seemed reasonable or rational to say; it’d sound absolutely mad trying to explain it. “I just don’t understand.”

Holland paused, mid-step. Then he tossed a blueberry in the air and Kell, without thinking, caught it in his right hand. 

"Should I say 'good boy'?" Holland asked, in a strangely less-than-hostile voice, and Kell fought the urge to punch him and only barely won the internal battle.

"Please answer me. I've asked you the same question twice now-"

"I already told you, Kell, I'm here just to see how long it would take you to bother me. My mission was officially a success. Now unless you have something pressing to discuss-"

"Why do you have a dog, damn it?" Kell cursed himself for how deeply annoyed his voice sounded; Holland's answering smile told him that this was a game, and Kell had just lost a point.

"Would you believe me if I said just to get you to speak with me?"

Kell blinked, feeling like a man at a party who is three steps behind his dance partner. "What? No! You would only do this to annoy me."

Holland hesitated, then sighed heavily. "Kell, as much as I adore your irrational hostility, I don't have to buy a dog to annoy you, all I have to do is breathe in your general direction."

"So why do you have a dog?"

Holland smiled at him, and it was a little rusty, as if he did it so rarely he had forgotten how to use the muscles that way. "I told you already. To get your attention."

Kell just stood silently. There were maybe a million comebacks he could have come up with, but absolutely nothing came to mind. All he could hear in his brain was a sort of fuzzy white noise. He slowly looked down. 

The white dog, about forty pounds or so, began to wag its tail again. 

"Well... What's her name?"

"Her name is Rhy."

"Her name is Rhy?"

"Yes. Because she's friendly to the point of obnoxiousness, uses very sad eyes if anyone tells her no, and wants everyone on earth to like her so very, very much. It seemed fitting."

"I should be angry at you for that," Kell said, but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"You should be, probably," Holland replied with a shrug. "But you're not, are you?"

"No. I'm mad at you for about sixteen other things, but not that. Can I pet her?"

Holland paused, as if weighing the answer to the question, then said in something as close to cheerfulness as he’d ever heard in Holland’s voice, “No.”

He moved as if to turn and leave and Kell rolled his eyes. "You're an absolute arse, do you know that?"

"I'm aware. And also I was joking, her name's not really Rhy. I haven't named her yet. Go ahead."

Kell crouched down with one knee on the ground, and the white dog all but leapt on him, paws up on his shoulders, licking his face with absolute and total joy. Kell found himself laughing, a sound he was pretty sure Holland had never heard from him before, trying to gently push it back to the ground. "Where did you get it?"

"Here. But it’s been staying at home with me."

Kell paused, looking up, trying to look dignified while the white dog tried to wriggle up between his arms and legs. He failed at dignity, but he was now holding a dog in his arms, so he called that a draw. "What do you mean, home?"

"Just what I said, prince. It followed me back to the palace three days ago."

"The palace here? I didn’t know you were-"

"No. In Makt."

"... then how did-"

"I don't know. She followed me to the wall, and when I stepped through, so did she." Holland smiled down at him, or at the dog. Kell would be infinitely more comfortable if he was smiling at the dog, but something about the way Holland looked suggested otherwise and he shifted nervously. "I guess dogs can go through the doors, as long as we make them."

"But how?” 

"If you find out, Maresh, let me know. All I know that is that four days ago I did not have a dog, and now I can't get her to leave my side and I will slaughter anyone who so much as looks at her sideways. Can I have my dog back?"

Kell paused, then tried to set the dog back on the ground. It immediately wriggled back into his arms and licked his face again. "No."

Holland twitched a smile, clearly very much against his will. "Please understand that I realize you are echoing what I said earlier, and I don't find it funny."

"Yes, you do. You should name her Blanc. in Gray London, they have a language called French, that means white."

"Blanc." Holland looked at him, with no hint of an expression to give away what he thought. Finally, he said, "I think I like Blanc."

"Good. It's a good name. Does this mean she'll come with you when you bring correspondence from now on?"

Holland shrugged, clicking his tongue against his teeth. The dog tilted his head to the side, then wiggled itself back out of Kell's arms and returned to Holland’s side. Holland scritched it behind its pointy white ears and Kell tried to decide if he had ever used the word 'scritch' in conjunction with Holland in his entire life and eventually came to the conclusion that he hadn't. "I don't think I'm the one in charge of whether or not she does. She has her own ideas.”

"You should," Kell said, and surprised himself with the friendliness in his own voice. "You should bring her."

Holland looked at him for a long moment - their eyes met, with the clash of black-on-black, but the two men, long enemies, smiled at each other. Then the smile dropped off Holland's face, as though he'd remembered he was meant to be humorless all the time. "Maybe I will."

"You should," Kell repeated. He stood, trying to brush white dog hair off his pants and failing. "I touched that dog for thirty seconds and it shed all over me."

"Wear black pants next time I come," Holland said with surprising cheerfulness. "Then I can really mock you for it." He moved past Kell to walk away, Blanc following happily at his heels.

"Holland," Kell said one more time, and Holland stopped, but didn't look back.

"Yes?"

"... are you really going to name her Blanc because I suggested it?"

Holland swallowed, pressing his lips together thoughtfully, then smiled as he turned away. Kell barely caught the expression. "I still say Rhy suits her better. But yes. I'll call her Blanc. Just don't ever mention it being your idea ever again or I'll change her name and deny I ever spoke to you."

"You know you could just be nice to me on occasion, Hol."

Holland froze. "... did you just call me Hol?"

"I-... yes. I'm sorry. Should I not-"

"No," Holland said sharply. "You shouldn't."

"I'm sorry, I won't-"

"You shouldn't, but I won't stop you if you do." Holland walked away, and this time Kell didn't follow him, just stood staring at his back. Kell continued to stare long after Holland had disappeared into the crowd.

He felt a hand smack into his back and an arm slung around his shoulder, Rhy leaning in with a bright and shining smile, a hat pulled down over his curls in an attempt to make himself less obviously the crown prince of the empire. From the looks coming from the crowd around him, the disguise was not working. "What are you staring at?"

"I just met Holland."

"... Holland? He's not due to see Mother and Father for another week. What was he doing? Spying?"

"He... had a dog."

"He had a dog."

"And he let me name it."

"He let you name it?"

"And he let me call him Hol."

Rhy squinted at Kell's face, with a thoughtful, briefly serious expression that broke right away into another brilliant smile, this one knowing and mischevious and infuriating. "Do you want to call him Hol?"

"... Apparently I do."

Rhy laughed. "I owe myself five gold coins for winning the bet I made with me."

"What bet?"

"Oh, I'm not telling you. Let's go get something to drink! I just heard about a delightfully seedy bar down by the docks and have been reliably informed that you and I will get into plenty of trouble there."

Kell sighed pinching his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Rhy, you're going to be the death of me."

Rhy grinned at him, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him the other way. Kell looked the way Holland had gone one more time, then scowled and followed Rhy's lead. "No," Rhy said brightly. "You'll be the death of me, more likely. Come on, let's go get drunk and find someone to flirt with."

"I don't flirt with anyone, Rhy."

"You flirt with Hol, don’t you?"

"I do not! I did not!"

"What do you call giving him a cute nickname and spending so long talking to him about his new dog, then? Next you’ll end up asking him to dinner!”

"Rhy, I swear by all the magic in the world that I will throttle you if you say one more word about it."

They walked in companionable silence for a few more seconds, and then Rhy stopped, looked Kell right in the face, and shouted, "You called him Hol!"

Then he took off running.

Kell angrily pounded after him, towards the docks, the crowd parting for the two princes who tried so manfully to pretend they were anything else, one prince breathless with laughter and the other one equally breathless with embarrassed fury.

Holland, walking with more spring in his step than he'd had in months, stopped by the purple tent at the edge of the market. The woman inside looked up at him from behind her table full of silver jewelry. Behind her, three more dogs nearly identical to Holland's milled around, yipping at each other or lolling playfully around on the ground.

"Oh, it’s you! I remember you from last week. So?" The woman asked, raising an eyebrow. She smiled conspiratorially at him, and said softly behind one hand, "Did it work?”

"Yes," Holland said, and you could almost have sworn he sounded cheerful. He laid a coin on top of the table. "It did."

"What did I tell you? A dog is perfect when you want to meet someone new."

Holland paused, and then said softly, "Oh, he's not someone new. I just wanted to surprise him. But..."

"But...?" The woman tilted her head. The little dog sat back on her heels and yipped cheerfully.

"I think he surprised me, instead. Let's go, Blanc."

Holland left the market, and when he stepped into a wall to go back home, the little white dog passed right through alongside him.

Holland walked the streets of his city whistling a bright and cheerful song.