#odes is better than me I’d have ate her up

[minkminkart]

Anyways here’s some Desa because I had it in the vault.

@xoxoalette

[littlesparklight]

Some thoughts about the three different prophecies that tell of potential downfall of a divine father by his son(s), and the effects of these. What we have to keep in mind first, of course (because patriarchy), is that any daughters aren’t in the running for the cosmic throne. They can help their brothers, and thus be real threats, but they can’t take the crown themselves. This is just what we have to work with and accept for these prophecies to make sense from what the characters choose to do in response to them.

So, first you’ve got Kronos:

“[...] that no other of the proud sons of Ouranos should hold the kingly office amongst the deathless gods. For he learned from Gaia and starry Ouranos that he was destined to be overcome by his own son,” (Theogony)

I always thought it kind of strange that Kronos then ate his daughters, since they can’t, by the very structure of the prophecy, be a direct threat. But they can assist their brothers. Even if Kronos hadn’t swallowed them and even treated them exemplary, there’s no guarantee they wouldn’t have been appalled at their baby brothers being swallowed, and/or sided with Rhea. So down they go. Another point is here also that it’s his own son - the mother doesn’t matter. Of course, the simple solution of not having sex with her at all is clearly impossible, so he persists...

And his solution is something no one else has done before. Even his father “only” imprisoned the older siblings, which Kronos could have done himself. But he knows his children could be released from Tartaros, so instead he chooses an action that, by its very intent, hopefully will nullify any offspring. If we consider that these gods are Deathless, and very, very hard to meaningfully kill, this might be one of the methods by which it can actually be achieved, but even that is clearly not simple or quick, since they end up rescued.

Next is Zeus;

“[...] for very wise children were destined to be born of her, first the maiden bright-eyed Tritogeneia, equal to her father in strength and in wise understanding; but afterwards she was to bear a son of overbearing spirit[,] king of gods and men.” (Theogony, Hesiod - another translation uses “overmastering” instead of “overbearing”)

With Metis first. Here, the point isn’t the father (aside from that the daughter born of Metis will match her father in strength and wisdom). Rather it’s Metis herself, presumably regardless of whoever the father is, who will bring a son who will be powerful and apparently bad ruler. Zeus chooses to mimic his father, but compared to Kronos, and possibly because Zeus knows what Kronos did, he does it better than his father did. Metis does not escape (I’d go with that he sort of absorbs her, in some way). Athena, of course, survives to be born, perhaps because Metis ensures her survival (a more metaphorical armour given her, if you will).

Zeus couldn’t have chosen to just not have sex with Metis and leave her, before any children at all, or after Athena was born. Metis’ first son will spell terrible things for his own rule and reasonably everyone else too. She could willingly refrain from sex, of course (and might even have been willing to!), but we all know that doesn’t necessarily guarantee she might not have ended up having said son anyway. (For me in my fics, I also leaned on the fact that Zeus is young in this instance, they have just won a ten year war that would’ve ended terribly if the new Olympians had lost, and here is immediately a threat that promises more of the same - he just lashes out, no real thought to it compared to Kronos.)

Obviously, this is still a terrible thing to do (especially because/if Zeus does it more effectively than Kronos did), but at least Metis can defend herself as it happens, compared to defenseless babies.

“For in their midst wise-counselled Themis told that it was ruled of fate that the sea-goddess should bring forth a son, of strength mightier than his father, whose hand should launch a shaft more powerful than the bolt of thunder or the fearsome trident, if she wed with Zeus or with his brothers.” (Isthmian Ode 8, Pindar)

Then there is Thetis. This time, it’s not just one or the other parent that matters; both of them do. Thetis specifically carries the same potential as Metis does, but it also relies on the strength of the father - the logical solution can for once be followed. Both Zeus and Poseidon refrain from having sex with her. But, it can’t just be left at that. Thetis could have sex (willing or unwilling) with someone, or marry someone, who could still produce a son strong enough to be stronger than Zeus. So, to ensure that doesn’t happen, Thetis can’t be left alone to her own devices; the man who will produce this one son with Thetis must be someone guaranteed not to be stronger than the gods in general, or the three sons of Kronos in particular.

Hence, she has to marry a mortal.

I do really like the detail that Thetis rejects Zeus specifically because Hera is her foster mother, but that can easily exist parallel to the prophecy and as soon as Zeus finds out about it, saddling Thetis with a mortal becomes not just a solution to a personal insult, but cosmically important. On the other hand, Thetis is still a goddess nymph, so she gets as noble a mortal as can be found.

Some brief extra discussion of Zeus and Athena under the cut:

Going back to Athena and Zeus here at the end, you could be exceedingly cynical and say Zeus deliberately made her a “favourite” to ensure she is kept as docile as possible and has no reason to make any threatening noise.

I don’t accept this, because firstly, Zeus has no reason to. Athena alone isn’t a cosmic threat, (accepting that only a male can hold the throne) no matter that she is as strong and wise as he is. She would only be a potential threat if her little brother of Metis had been born. He never is. Zeus has made sure of it, and while Athena very pointedly joins Hera in her uprising against Zeus, it certainly doesn’t succeed (and I wouldn’t expect it to necessarily succeed if she’d attach herself to one of her brothers, since the point is very much Metis’ son).

Athena as (one of, with Apollo as the other) Zeus’ favourite is definitely meant to be genuine, with no backhanded reasons behind it.

[txtniipped]

ode to flower and cloud

genshin impact -- childe/zhongli, childe & venti, venti & traveler, traveler & paimon, paimon & venti

(2680 words)

ao3 version

With the Windblume Festival in full swing, love is in the air. Who better to teach the art of waxing poetry than the Windborne Bard and his two faithful assistants?

Though… tutoring the Fatui’s Eleventh Harbinger on such a topic was not something the three of them were expecting to be doing.

“Well, now that all that’s settled, we have some time to waste until their two hours are up,” Venti says as he turns towards the Traveler and Paimon, a grin blooming across his face. “Let’s go get a drink, shall we?”

The Traveler smiles awkwardly at the bard as they begin their march from under the city’s Barbatos statue to Angel’s Share, Paimon huffing indignantly as she floats along. “You know they don’t drink, bard! You only suggested it because you don’t know how to do anything else!”

Venti laughs, jovial and completely lacking any shame, which only further riles up Paimon. “So? A good drink always tastes better in good company! You can get grape juice or something.” The bard hops down the steps, two at a time, the traveler following in suit as to not be left behind. “Besides—” Venti pauses near the bottom of the staircase, turning himself back towards his companions, gazing cheekily up at them— “what else are you going to do while we wait to check up on our students? Those commissions no one has posted since the festival began?”

Paimon’s cheeks puff, her little hands balling into fists. “You—!!”

“Ahaha, there you are! Figures I’d find you two mixed up in the sprite’s shenanigans.”

Venti’s cheekiness drops the moment he hears that laugh, a thin smile taking its place as he turns to the presence at the bottom of the staircase. The Traveler’s attention snaps to the Harbinger below just as quickly as Paimon’s, who gasps loud enough for them both. “Childe?!”

“Hey!” The Harbinger greets the three of them with a wave, his smile genuine as far as any of them can tell.

“I thought the shame of losing our little contest would have driven you back home by now!” Venti lilts, bounding down the rest of the steps to land in Childe’s space, that forced smile still plastered on his face.

“Ahh, no, see—” Childe grins at Venti, a little too toothy, this smile much more fitting with the dangerous man the Traveler and Paimon now know him as— “a loss leads to more practice, and more practice leads to more polish, and more polish always warrants another go.”

Venti levels the Snezhnayan with an unimpressed stare. “So you’re here for a rematch,” he states.

Childe laughs, pleasant and warm, the epitome of friendliness. It’s so easy to be drawn into that sound if you know little of the man.

“Not yet! Rather, I heard you’re offering the masses lessons in poetry?”

The question catches both the Traveler and Paimon off guard, and if the silence between the four of them singing louder than any cricket is capable of is anything to go by, it’s surprised Venti too.

“You actually, uh...” Paimon starts after a beat, fidgeting her hands as she speaks, “just missed—.“ 

The sudden clap of Venti’s hands coming together cuts the fairy-creature off, his tone much more amicable than it just was. “I am! And these two are my assistants!” Venti gestures over to the Traveler and Paimon, who have now finally joined the other two at the bottom of the stairs. “You did actually just miss our assignment period though,” the bard stresses, offering a pitying expression that clearly irks the Harbinger. Paimon saw his fist curl.

Childe laughs mutedly, lifting said fist to his torso, casually smoothing it out over the front of his uniform. “That’s... unfortunate.”

“But!” Venti chimes, switching his demeanor in a heartbeat, leaning forward enough to force Childe back a step. “I’d be willing to let you join late, as long as you’re willing to pay the fee!”

The laugh that falls from Childe’s mouth this time is much fuller than his previous one, amusement dancing across his face. “Sure, sure. How much is it?”

“Welllll~” Venti’s index finger comes to rest on his chin as he turns his head conspiringly towards his two assistants, the corners of his mouth curled up in such a way that it practically screams mischief. 

“Since you missed the beginning of the class,” Venti begins as he turns a more scholarly expression towards Childe, his index finger tapping against his chin, “we’ll have to catch you up one-on-one. On top of that, you’re cutting into our break time, which we were really looking forward to after all our hard work with our other students...”

Paimon suddenly seems to brighten up in her spot next to the Traveler, catching onto the scheme the bard is putting forth. The Traveler can practically see her vibrating with her habit of greed. “Seriously! Paimon had to explain the ins and outs of poetry so much, Paimon’s jaw hurts!”

Childe’s eyebrows raise as he appraises the bard and the fairy, and when he glances to the Traveler, they can tell he’s not convinced. However...

“Well, why don’t I just owe you double and we move on?” the Harbinger suggests, his attention returning to Venti.

Venti laughs, delight ringing through the air. “Sounds good to me!”

—

The trio filled Childe in on what information he missed from their earlier class within a few minutes, despite how long both Paimon and Venti alluded to it taking beforehand. Childe didn’t seem bothered over paying double for something that hardly took five minutes, but knowing his spending habits after witnessing everything in Liyue, the Traveler wasn’t surprised.

By the end of it, they assigned Childe a poem to be read and critiqued by the bard as they did the others, and soon enough, the four of them parted ways with an agreement to meet at the Goth Grand Hotel later in the day.

The trio’s idle time passed by swiftly, mostly due to the hilichurl camps nearby the city they decided to clear instead of day drinking. The walk back into town and to the Fatui delegation’s temporary place of residence ate up their remaining time, and though they were clearly invited to the building by the Harbinger earlier, the guard at the door seems unconvinced.

“‘Poetry lessons’ hardly seem in the realm of the Lord Harbinger’s interests,” the doorguard, Luke, states in response to the explanation he’s been given regarding the trio’s presence.

“Well, what else do you expect him to be doing during the Windblume Festival?” Venti asks as he tilts his head curiously, a teasing smile on his face.

Luke scoffs, haughtily turning his head to the side. “The matters of the Lord Harbinger’s love life aren’t mine to divulge. Besides—“ the Traveler raises a hand to cover their sudden smile as Luke continues on, amused over the guard’s predictability. Always a talker, this one. “—last I heard, his partner is in Liyue anyway. What use would he have for the festivities of a Mondstadt festival?”

The mention of a partner has Venti perking up like a dog offered a treat, Paimon now joining the Traveler on covering a smile of her own. “Ohhh, his lover is in Liyue, huh~?” Venti sing-songs. “He must be wanting to send them an authentic piece of his time in another country! How romantic!”

The Traveler and Paimon are both left giggling behind the bard as an embarrassed flush blooms over what’s visible of Luke’s face, the Fatui man clearly only now realizing he’s once again shared too much. “Shut it, you twerp,” Luke spits, trying to reign the conversation in his favor, “unless you want the Lord Harbinger shutting you up himself!”

“Must you threaten my guests, Luke?”

Four heads turn towards the amused voice of said Lord Harbinger, who currently has his upper body partially leaning out a window of what can only be assumed is the foyer. His head is propped up on one of his hands, leaving him looking picturesque under the warm sun and soft breeze.

Venti cackles unabashedly as Luke stammers out an apology in Childe’s direction, Childe’s amused smile pulling into a grin.

“Let them in before you spill more of my secrets,” Childe waves as he pulls himself back into the building, tone light. Luke mumbles an affirmative to the no-longer-present Harbinger and opens the doors of the hotel for the three guests, Venti happily making his way inside with the Traveler and Paimon close behind, the doors softly thudding closed once they’re through.

The foyer of the Goth Grand Hotel hosts two sets of socializing spaces to the left and right of the rug running through the room, decorated with high quality rococo couches, loveseats, and chairs. At the back of the room is the counter, most likely vacant of staff due to the occupation of only Fatui here. On either side of that, stairs leading up, the space required for that leaving the room quite open.

Childe is seated in the room alone, in a chair to the left of the entrance, watching his guests with thinly-veiled amusement. He’s perched so one elbow rests against the armrest of the chair, that hand providing support for his head. He’s leaning heavily to the right, his left leg crossed over the thigh of his right, left hand loose and casual in his lap.

“Someone looks comfortable,” Venti comments good-naturedly as he makes his way over to the couch angled perpendicular to the armchair, the Traveler and Paimon following his lead.

“I am!” Childe laughs as he lifts his head from his hand, regarding the three of them with a bright smile. “Mondstadt is just so lovely right now, what with all the vitriol your people have for us Fatui.”

Paimon huffs, crossing her own legs in the air as she mimics Childe’s positioning, only a lot more balled up. “Well, can you blame them? You guys are always up to something!”

“Ahaha, a fair assessment,” Childe muses as he unfolds himself, planting both feet on the floor as he leans towards the coffee table in front of him. There, he snatches the top paper from a stack of several and offers it in Venti’s direction. “Well, shall we? You’ve more students to see, after all.”

“That we do,” Venti hums, taking the paper from the Harbinger. He sits up properly in his seat then and turns his eyes to the paper only briefly, quickly returning them to Childe. “Would it bother you if I read this aloud?”

Childe grins and waves a hand through the air, casually dismissing the need for permission. “By all means.”

The bard smiles and nods, then once again settles his gaze to the paper, clearing his throat before beginning.

“‘Words come easy to me,’” Venti begins, voice light and pleasant. “‘Over dinner, drinks, the shore. But there are some far more challenging, said aloud than written down.’”

The room is quiet save for Venti’s soft countenance. Childe’s gaze has drifted down to the rest of the pages on the table, where the Traveler can clearly see scribbles and scratches of other versions of the poem Venti’s currently reading.

“‘Surely you know by now, how irreplaceable your presence is, to a man so solitary.’”

Paimon looks to the Traveler then, head tilted in a silent question of who the Harbinger could possibly be talking about—at least until—.

“‘How every word that falls, from your lips and graces my ears, is a sweet treasure, more decadent, than any wine or dessert.’”

Paimon’s eyes widen, and she starts rapidly smacking her hand against the Traveler’s shoulder, pieces being put together. She’s excited, despite how hostile she may or may not be towards the Harbinger. The Traveler can’t help but laugh silently at her antics.

“‘Mondstadt prides itself on freedom, but the freedom you’ve given me, will forever be the envy, of the City of Wind.’”

Venti pauses here, though with a brief glance, the Traveler can see another verse written, just two lines. The script is just messy enough to keep them from making out the words before Venti’s laughing stiltedly, catching the attention of all those in the room. Childe’s eyebrows raise in a silent question, and after a beat passes without an answer, he lifts his upper body to sit up straight.

“What?” Childe laughs, the lightest dusting of color painting his cheeks as he leans back into the chair, the iron grip he’s taken up on the armrest betraying his calm. “Don’t want to finish it, little sprite?”

Venti huffs out a laugh of his own and tosses the paper back in Childe’s direction, who catches it out of the air like it’s a precious thing. Which, honestly...

“To be honest, I was expecting the same sort of mess as your form with a bow, but that was actually well done!”

Childe’s smile turns tight, mirrored perfectly back at him by Venti. The tension is palpable. Concerned, the Traveler turns their attention to Paimon, who meets their gaze with a mildly alarmed look of confusion.

The moment passes as Childe breaks eye contact with the bard, folding the paper in his hands. “Well, as unhelpful as you were, I do owe you,” Childe says as he places the piece of paper on the coffee table. He reaches under the jacket of his uniform after, pulling out a hefty pouch of mora and tossing it carelessly into Venti’s lap. It doesn’t take much thought to how much is in there when the Traveler can practically see Venti’s eyes sparkling—most likely, it’s much more than their efforts today are worth.

“Now,” Childe hums, regarding the three of them with a pleasant smile, “get out.”

—

Luke was more than happy to doubly unwelcome them as the trio stepped out from the hotel with a shout of scram! for good measure, since he apparently decided his Lord Harbinger’s icy dismissal wasn’t enough.

Venti pockets the pouch of mora with a guilt-free grin despite their initial critiquing session lasting a grand total of five minutes max, turning his attention to the Traveler and Paimon.

“Well! Next stop is the Knights of Favonius’s headquarters!” Venti announces with a clap of his hands.

—

The nighttime scene during the Windblume Festival mostly seems to consist of lovers holding hands, playing music, feeding one another food, or in that unlucky instance where the Traveler picked the wrong side path, being tangled together.

The PDA is near unbearable, but Paimon’s never ending hunger has driven them out in search of festival food. Admittedly, everything they’ve tried so far has been mouthwatering, and almost makes up for the trauma both the Traveler and Paimon now have with that one path. Luckily, they’ve wandered into a quieter section of the city, most of the festivities contained to the main street and surrounding areas.

“‘...is a sweet treasure, more decadent, than any wine or dessert.’”

The words coming from somewhere above the duo are immediately recognizable as the work of one Eleventh Harbinger they had already heard earlier in the day. The Traveler and Paimon share a startled look as the voice continues—one they just as easily recognize as Childe himself.

“‘Mondstadt prides itself on freedom, but the freedom you’ve given me, will forever be the envy, of the City of Wind,’” Childe recites, to the sky or to another, they can’t tell. Then...

“‘I love you, dear consultant.’”

A low, rumbling laugh floats down upon the duo then, and the Traveler and Paimon both freeze up.

“I never quite took you as the ‘waxing poetic’ type, Ajax,” Zhongli comments, voice something too tender for these two intruders to be hearing.

“When in Mondstadt,” ‘Ajax’ replies, his tone fond.

“Indeed.”

There’s a quiet moment that neither the Traveler or Paimon are quite sure what to do in, until they hear a deep purr of Childe’s given name. That scares them away immediately, the sound of the Traveler’s footsteps rushing back down towards the main street. 

Another beat of silence, and then Childe’s warm laughter rings out from where he and Zhongli are seated against the railing of an upper layer of the city, as innocent as ever. “I cannot believe you,” he says to the consultant through his laughter. Zhongli offers his partner an amused smile in return, his eyes crinkling in delight.

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/f!Lavellan: She Who Dances With Fire

Chapter 4 of The Love That Grows From Violence (Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is up on AO3!

In which there is some sad backstory reveal, and Felassan is a brat. ❤

~6490 words; read on AO3 instead.

*************************

Late the next morning, Tamaris opened her bedroom door to the smell of bacon. 

Her stomach growled in response, and she wandered downstairs to find Felassan in the main room. He was lounging on a pile of silk cushions on the plush angora carpet in front of the fire, and there was an array of breakfast foods on the dining table: some lightly charred toast, half of a perfect sunny-yellow omelette, and a few rashers of bacon, along with a beautifully presented plate of fruit, half of which had been eaten. 

“Is this for me?” she asked in surprise.

“Unless you’re harbouring another ancient elven refugee in your house that I’m unaware of, yes,” he said. “It’s for you.” 

A quip first thing in the morning. Of course, she thought ruefully. She gave him an exasperated look, and he smirked. “Enjoy,” he said.

She sat at the table and glanced at him once more, but he wasn’t paying attention to her; he was reading a dog-eared book, and Tamaris raised her eyebrows as she recognized it: it was a copy of This Shit Is Weird.

She pulled the omelette closer. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

“I took it from your pack last night,” he said without looking up. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. “You went through my pack?” she demanded.

“You said to make myself at home,” he replied.

“What’s next, then?” she said archly. “Are you going to be going through my underwear? Or did you pick your favourites out of my pack already?”

“I resisted going that far,” he said. Then he smiled slyly at her. “Besides, I prefer to go without undergarments.”

That fucking shit-eating smirk… Tamaris couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t. She didn’t dare give him the satisfaction. She took a big bite of toast to stop herself from smiling. “Is that a custom from ancient Elvhenan?” she said snarkily. “No underwear?”

“From what I’ve heard, you should know the answer to that question already,” he replied.

This was the third or fourth time he’d alluded to her past relationship with Solas. All of a sudden, a burst of anger roiled in her chest. 

She lowered her fork and turned on her chair to face him fully. “You want to know about me and Solas?” she said in a hard voice. “Fine. Solas and I were lovers, all right? But he broke up with me, and then he left without explaining why, and then he showed up two years later to tell me that — surprise! — he was the fucking Dread Wolf all along and he just decided not to tell me. And oh, by the way, he was planning to destroy the world all along.” She broke off and took a deep breath to try and calm her temper, then glared at Felassan. “Have you heard enough, or are you going to keep asking me about my fucking sex life?”

He didn’t reply right away. His face was pleasant and calm despite the anger she’d thrown at him, and through her residual rage, her gut twisted; there was something about his expression that actually reminded her of Solas. 

No, not just of Solas; of Abelas, too, that Sentinel from the Well of Sorrows. It was like the calm in Felassan’s face was born not from an even temper, but from some deeper understanding of things that Tamaris couldn’t fathom – some deeper understanding that led to an even deeper sense of melancholy. 

Then he smiled, and the smile chased away the ineffable world-weariness in his face. “Well, that’s disappointing,” he said. “Now you’ve ruined the end of this book for me.” He closed the book and put it down, then settled back on the silk cushions and folded his arms behind his head.

Tamaris stared at him for a moment longer, then finally returned to her omelette. They were both silent for a time, Tamaris eating her breakfast while Felassan lounged in front of the fire. He looked happy enough, with his eyes closed and his bare foot waving idly as though to a tune that Tamaris couldn’t hear. By the time she’d finished eating the surprisingly delicious omelette and the bacon, however, her hunger was gone, replaced by guilt. 

She turned around to face him once more. “You can keep that book if you want.” 

He lazily cracked open one eye. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you.”

She shrugged. “I can always get another copy from Varric. Which reminds me…” She trailed off. She was about to say she was planning to go visit him at the Viscount’s Keep, but Felassan’s presence changed things. Tamaris didn’t want to leave Felassan alone in case his emotions and his magic got the better of him, but she also couldn’t very well bring Solas’s supposed-to-be-dead ex-agent out in public, either.

“Is something wrong?” Felassan asked. 

“Ye– well, not exactly,” she said. “I was going to go visit Varric at his office today, but I just realized I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to leave you on your own in case you do something dangerous by accident,” she said bluntly. 

“Ah,” he said. “I see. A volatile apostate wandering the city is less than ideal.”

She gave him an odd look. “We don’t really use the word ‘apostate’ anymore. The College of Enchanters are encouraging people to say ‘free mages’ now instead of ‘apostates’.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “College of Enchanters. Interesting. And how do the Circle mages feel about the implication that they are not free? Assuming the Circles were reinstated.”

Tamaris frowned, even more bemused by this. How did he not know the Chantry Circles had been reinstated? It had been a few years now. “They… yes, they were, unfortunately,” she said. “And to answer your question: they, uh, don’t love it. It’s a source of constant debate from what I’ve heard, but I’m not really looped into the latest Chantry bullshit at the moment.”

“Hm,” Felassan murmured. Then he shrugged and folded his hands over his abdomen. “Well, this is a conundrum,” he said brightly. “If you can’t go anywhere and I can’t go anywhere, it appears that we’re confined to each other’s company.”

“Looks that way,” Tamaris said wryly. “Good thing this house has a big library.”

He sighed with mock-sadness. “And here I imagined that we’d pass the time exchanging tales around the fireside. Perhaps with shadow puppets to illustrate.”

She narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but it felt like he was making another dig at her Dalish background. “Are you going to ask me dance naked in the moonlight while singing an ode to Ghilan’nain and the halla, too?” she said sarcastically.

He shot her a sharp look, then grinned roguishly. “Dance naked in the moonlight? That’s a Dalish custom I’d be agreeable to witnessing firsthand.”

“Hilarious,” she said flatly. “If anyone here should be telling stories, it’s you. That’s why you’re here, after all.” 

He raised his eyebrows, and she winced at how callous she sounded. “Sorry,” she said. “I… fuck, that was rude. Actually, I…” She ran a hand through her curly hair. “Listen, I should thank you for even coming here. It’s a long way from the Hunterhorns, especially with you being all, um, fucked up still after being Tranquil.” She broke off and rubbed her mouth, then gave him a frank look. “I’m bad at apologizing. And at saying thank you. But I hope you can accept this as both.”   

He shrugged. “I might. If you tell me a tale.”

She made a face. “I’m not really the storytelling kind.”

“That’s a shame,” he said. “Weaving tales is a lost art, if you ask me.” He let out another musical little sigh. “Well, if you won’t tell me a tale, then you should tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?” she said a little suspiciously. “You can read about me in that book.” She jerked her chin at This Shit Is Weird.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “This book. A story in the purest sense of the word.” He picked up the novel and looked askance at her. “How accurate is this?”

“It’s… got the broad strokes,” she hedged.

Felassan grinned, and Tamaris rolled her eyes. “Look, it wasn’t meant to be non-fiction. It’s completely based off of real events and people, and the big things are mostly accurate. But if Varric wrote everything exactly like it was, nobody would read it. It would be too…” She trailed off. Too what? Too implausible? Too boring? Too fucking awful?

Felassan, meanwhile, was still smiling. “Adjusting events to achieve a particular goal… your friend Varric really is a true storyteller. Was he a spy for your Inquisition?”

Wouldn’t you like to know? she thought snarkily, but she didn’t say it. At the very least, it would be unnecessarily rude. Furthermore, there was no reason not to answer his question. It wasn’t like he was working for Solas anymore. 

“No, he wasn’t,” she said. “But he does manage a spy network here in Kirkwall, with ties far beyond the Free Marches.”

Felassan’s smile broadened. “Interesting. I would have liked to meet him.”

“You will,” she said. “He’ll come over sooner or later if I don’t show up at his office.”

“Then I’ll be honoured by the visit,” Felassan said with a little bow of his head. Somehow he managed to make the gesture look elegant even from his lazy lounging position on the floor.

Tamaris huffed and selected a slice of ripe peach from the fruit plate. She ate quietly for a little while longer, but with every passing tick of the clock on the mantle, she only became more aware of Felassan’s silent attention.

She shot him a flat look, and he raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Your avoidance is only making me more curious, you know,” he said.

“And your insistence is only making me want to throw a grape at your head,” she retorted.

“Please do,” Felassan said brightly. “I always welcome food being thrown at me.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. Then, on a whim, she plucked a grape from the fruit plate and tossed it at his face. 

To her surprise, he actually caught the grape in his mouth. She blinked in surprise, and he shot her a grin as he chewed it. “Does this mean you’ll talk now?” he said.

She tsked at him and popped a grape in her own mouth, and Felassan leisurely shifted onto his side to face her. “Back in Arlathan, we used to say that the most bountiful catch lies in the quietest pools, for their depths are unplumbed.”

She scoffed. “That’s what you used to say, huh?”

“It is,” he said. “And you shouldn’t scoff at me. It’s a compliment.”

She gave him a hard look. “You don’t know that I have unplumbed depths. Maybe I’m just a shallow angry bitch.”

He snickered at this. “A truly shallow person wouldn’t consider the possibility that they are shallow.”

She pursed her lips, and Felassan tilted his head pleadingly. “Come now, Tamaris. It is a small thing I ask – a little information about my hostess. Would you really begrudge a man who’s been living in a cave for years?”

A chill ran down her spine. “You were living in a cave all this time?” she blurted.

“No,” he said. An annoying grin lit his handsome face. “But that got your attention, didn’t it?”

She pursed her lips at his irreverence, then frowned. “Where were you for the past few years, then?” she said. She pulled a little face. “I… damn, I should have asked yesterday, I’m sorry.”

“If I tell you this, will you tell me something about yourself?” he said.

She frowned and toyed with the fruit plate, and Felassan spoke again in a cajoling tone. “A story for a story. It is a fair trade.”

She sighed. “Fuck’s sake. Fine. You first, though. Where were you for the past few years?”

“In no one place, as it happens,” he said. He turned into his back once more and nestled comfortably into the silk cushions. “When I was first… struck low, shall we say, I was in a remote part of the Planacene Forest. I remained there alone for some time. I was near death when I was found by a Dalish hunter.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Shit,” she said. “How long was that?”

“I can’t be certain,” he said. “Several days, I’m sure. The hunter took me back to his clan, and they restored me from the brink of death.”

She frowned slightly at this. If he’d been saved by a Dalish clan, why did he seem to have so much disdain for them? 

“The Dalish that took you in,” she said carefully. “Were they… weren’t they kind to you?”

“I don’t know,” he said. 

Tamaris frowned more deeply. How could he not know if they'd been kind?

He was still speaking. “They gave me food and water and clean clothes. They healed my wounds and gave me medicine for pain. I believe they were…” He paused and tilted his head thoughtfully. “‘Unnerved’ would be the best word for it.”

“Yes, they would have been,” Tamaris said quietly. “They’d probably never met a Tranquil before.” Tamaris certainly hadn’t met any Tranquil before she’d fallen in with the Inquisition, and she still remembered the first time she’d met a Tranquil at Haven. 

She still remembered excusing herself as politely as she could, then stumbling into the first empty room she could find and vomiting violently onto the carpet. 

A sudden memory of Marin’s haunted green eyes rose in her mind. She took a deep breath and turned her attention back to Felassan. “Were the Dalish afraid of you?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said again.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asked.

“I mean that I don’t know if they were kind or cruel or afraid. All I can tell you is what happened,” he replied. “They didn’t kill me, and they gave me the means to stay alive. If you call that kindness, then that is what they showed me.”

Tamaris recoiled slightly; there was an edge to his voice now that she hadn’t heard before. “All right,” she said cautiously.. “And… you mentioned that you didn’t stay in one place. I assume you left the Planacene Forest with the clan?”

“Yes,” he said. “The clan left the forest and moved along the fringes of the Free Marches. Their Keeper was hoping to encounter another clan to trade with.”

Tamaris studied him worriedly as he spoke. His voice was becoming flat, and it was a clear departure from his usual expressive tone. 

“And did they find another clan?” she asked. 

“No,” he said. “They ran afoul of some rogue Templars. Deserters from Kirkwall who were seeking lyrium.”

Her heart seized. “Oh. Oh fuck.”

He nodded a brief acknowledgement. “They approached the clan and demanded lyrium. There was an altercation with deaths on both sides, but the clan had no lyrium to give.”

Fucking Templars, she thought angrily. “Of course they didn’t have fucking lyrium,” she gritted out. “Most clans don’t really use it.” 

Felassan nodded, and Tamaris noted bemusedly that his expression was as neutral now as his tone. “The Templars appeared to be desperate,” he said. “They looted some weapons and food from the clan, and they took me with them.” 

“The Templars took you?” she asked. “Why?”

“One of the Templars had a contact who knew someone in the Carta,” he replied.

“The Carta?” she said with growing confusion.

“Yes,” Felassan said. “The Templars traded me to the Carta in exchange for lyrium.”

His voice was completely emotionless now. With a chill, Tamaris realized why his narrative style seemed so strange: he was recounting these events as he would have remembered them as a Tranquil — as a series of objective, factual events with no emotional investment.

For a second, she couldn’t breathe. Then she rose from her chair and sat beside him on the rug.

He shot her a look of surprise, but she gently pressed on with the conversation. “How long were you with the Templars for?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “A month. Maybe two.” He paused for a moment, and when Tamaris didn’t speak either, he shot her a tiny smile — a hint of his usual humour.

“You aren’t going to ask if the Templars were kind to me?” he said. “Or do you know the answer to that already?”

“I can guess,” Tamaris said, very quietly.

His wry smile faded, and he looked away from her toward the fire. “They gave me enough food and water to stay alive. And they beat me.”

Her stomach writhed, even though his words came as no shock. She shifted a little closer to him, and he shot her another look of surprise.

She steadily met his wide violet eyes. “I’m sorry for what they did to you,” she said.

He stared at her for a moment, then looked away once more. “Don’t be. I didn’t feel it. I felt the pain, but I did not feel the rest.”

She swallowed hard. Was that how it was for all Tranquil? Feeling physical pain but no other kinds of pain? 

Again, her thoughts snapped to Marin — his joyful green eyes, green just like hers. The way he used to hug her, like he was going to lift her right off the ground. The way he’d screamed when the Templars dragged him away. 

She gruffly cleared her throat. “What happened next?” she murmured.

“The Carta put me to work,” Felassan said. “They thought I could work with their lyrium and make enchantments for them, which they could sell at a high price. But I have never had a particular facility with crafting. Then they discovered that I’m a dab hand at potion-making.” He smirked. “Ironic, since I only really began making potions when I woke up in your time.”

Tamaris nodded an acknowledgement, and he went on. “I made potions of various kinds for the Carta. Poisons, mostly, but other things too. I did this for years until I was bought by another dwarf. For an immense sum, or so I understand.” He gave her a tiny smile. “Someone thought I was valuable, it seemed.”

She frowned. “Who? Who bought you?”

“I didn’t know right away,” he said. “In fact, I didn’t find out who it was until I arrived at your Seeker’s sanctuary in the Hunterhorn Mountains.”

She straightened with a jolt of understanding. “It was Bianca Davri,” she said. Varric had mentioned to her yesterday that Felassan’s recovery had been thanks to a tip from Bianca.

Felassan nodded. “Yes. I spent a day at the sanctuary, and Cassandra and her people turned me back into this.” He gestured playfully at himself.

Tamaris nodded slowly. Being recovered first by the Dalish, then taken and abused by Templars, then kept as a slave by the Carta before finally being restored to himself… Her chest was hurting from the knowledge of what he’d gone through. And once again, she was stunned that he was able to maintain such a lighthearted attitude most of the time. 

“Are you glad to be back to yourself?” she asked.

He looked at her sharply, and her belly did a little flip; his gaze was piercing. Then he smiled slowly. “You know, you are the only one who has asked me that.” 

Her heart twisted. The fact that he hadn’t answered right away was quite telling. She waited patiently for him to speak.

He chuckled and ran a hand over his neatly bound hair. “I feel as though I am two people merged into one,” he said. “One moment I’m moving through the motions of life: cooking an omelette and enjoying the warmth of a fire and a book I stole from a pretty woman’s pack. The next moment, I’m remembering that I lived in a Carta hideout outside of Wildervale for years with almost no news of what was happening outside, and I didn’t care that I knew nothing. The memories are mine, but they’re…” He trailed off and shook his head slightly.

“Like a dream?” Tamaris supplied.

“No,” he said forcefully, to her surprise. “Not at all like a dream.” He looked at her once more, and his face was utterly serious. “I once walked in dreams with steps as certain as those you use to cross the rooftops. These memories, these — the memories of being Tranquil, they’re… they may as well be someone else’s thoughts forced into my head.” Then his face creased into an unexpected grin. “I spent almost five years as a shell. I was—” He interrupted himself with a snort of laughter. “I was beaten and kept indoors for weeks on end sometimes, and I didn’t care.” He snickered and shook his head, then grinned at her. “Did you know that most people don’t speak to Tranquil? They just don’t bother to speak to us. We might as well be furniture for all the attention they give us.” He laughed again, and Tamaris’s heart squeezed painfully at the hysterical edge to his laughter.

He suddenly reached under one of the silk cushions and brought out a short rod of silvery-white wood — the same piece of wood he’d been twirling in his fingers the night before. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

She examined the rod. “It’s ironwood,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “And that’s all this is.”

She eyed him warily. “I… don’t get it.”

He smiled and ran his thumb over the twisted length of wood. “It’s supposed to be a staff.”

She frowned in bemusement at the rod. It was only about the length of her foot. “But it’s so short.”

He tutted playfully. “Tamaris, Tamaris. It’s not the size of the staff; it’s how you use it.” 

His tone was cheeky, and she shot him a chiding look. He chuckled and stroked the piece of wood. “More importantly, I was once able to manipulate the dimensions of a staff like this until it was the length of a normal staff.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve never heard of a staff like that.”

“Of course you haven’t,” he said pleasantly. “I made it with my own two hands and my own magic.” His smile widened, and he chuckled. “I made it with my own magic.”

Suddenly she understood. “You can’t make another staff yet, can you?” she said softly.

He shook his head slowly. “No, I can’t. I can’t… I have little control over my magic. It’s like waking up again in this world for the first time, but far worse. I was able to adjust to how weak the flow of magic is with the Veil in place, but the problem now isn’t the Veil per se.” He smiled at her, and his eyes were bright. 

“The problem is me,” he said. “If I try to do a single spell, either nothing happens, or I could blow up your entire lovely gilded house. I’m—” He broke off and looked away from her, but not before she saw his face crumpling with distress.

She slowly shuffled closer to him. “Felassan, look at me.”

He shook his head tightly. His hands were still gripping the ironwood, which was starting to smoke faintly.

“Hey,” she said gently. “Don’t destroy that wood. You’ll need it to make a new staff.”

He spun toward her suddenly, and his face was twisted with rage. “Did you not hear me?” he yelled. “I can’t make a new staff. I can’t do anything that I should be able to do!”

She took a deep breath to calm her suddenly thrumming heart, then calmly held out her hand. “Can I hold on to it?” 

His grip tightened for a moment, but Tamaris steadily held out her hand. Then Felassan thrust the rod at her. “Take it,” he bit off. “For all the—” He broke off with a sudden sob. “—for all the good it does me.”

She took the slightly-singed piece of ironwood and tucked it into the back of her waistband. “I’ll keep it safe for when you’re ready.”

“I may never—” Another sob choked him, and he covered his mouth for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Tamaris ignored his laughter. “You don’t know that you’ll never get better,” she said.

“You don’t know that I will!” he shouted. “None of the other Tranquil at your Seeker’s precious sanctuary could do more than the simplest spells, and some of them had been cured for months before I was!”

Tears were trickling down his face now, and his eyes were snapping with rage — and with a flicker of lightning. She took another deep breath to quash her apprehension. “Can I touch you?” she asked.

He gave her a sharp look, and she swallowed hard; his eyes were incandescent with energy and magic. Then he barked out a sudden laugh. “This is an odd time for you to proposition me, but be my guest.”

She ignored his inappropriate innuendo and took one of his hands in hers. “You have no reason to think you can’t recover,” she told him. “Just take it one day at a time.”

Felassan laughed bitterly and wiped his face, but Tamaris ignored his skepticism and squeezed his hand. “It’s one day at a time,” she insisted. “Don’t beat yourself up, all right?”

He closed his eyes and squeezed her hand in turn, and Tamaris studied the dampness of his long dark eyelashes as she waited for him to respond. When he finally opened his eyes, they were no longer bright with magic. 

He gave her a sardonic smile. “And what will you be doing while I’m on this perilous path to recovery? Are you going to watch over me until I am fit to leave the house?”

She shrugged and released his hand. “Honestly, why not? I’m not doing anything else.”

He gave her an appraising look. “There’s no pressure for you to take an active role in the war against Fen’Harel?”

“Not yet, thank fuck,” she said bluntly. “I think they all feel sorry for me still after what happened when I saw him last.” Her companions’ pity would usually have grated at her nerves, but if it meant they would leave her alone to lick her wounds for a while, she wasn’t going to complain. 

“Mm,” Felassan murmured. “Yes, finding out that everything you thought you knew was wrong can be somewhat jarring. Not to mention losing an arm.” He eyed her mechanical left arm.

She grunted and stretched her legs out on the rug. “Don’t forget about the ‘learning that your ex-lover is the villain in every childhood story you ever heard’ part. And also that he wasn’t really a villain. Not in your time, at least.”

Felassan gasped playfully. “Ex-lover, you say? Are you telling me about your sex life after all? My ears are burning.”

She snorted. “Shut the fuck up, you brat.”

He laughed, and Tamaris was pleased to note that his laugh was back to its usual rolling lilt. “I’ll happily do so, since it’s your turn now to share something about yourself.”

She sighed and ran her metal hand through her hair. “Fine, fair’s fair. What do you want to know?”

“What I’d like to know is how you’re so calm under fire. Literally,” he said. He held up his hands, which were no longer smoking. “Most people would back away from an uncontrolled mage. You move closer. It’s pretty odd behaviour for anyone who doesn’t have a death wish.”

She clenched her jaw. Of course he had to ask the most personal possible question, even if he didn’t realize how personal it was.

She stood up and returned to her seat at the dining table. “I had an older brother, Marin. He was… unwell. I was good at calming him down.”

There was a brief silence, which Felassan eventually broke. “‘Had’?” he said.

She exhaled slowly. “He died some time ago,” she said.

“Ir abelas,” Felassan said softly.

Her throat swelled, and she swallowed hard and nodded. “Ma serannas.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Then Felassan spoke again. “Was it recent?”

“Not… really,” she said with difficulty. “Well, some of it was.”

He gave her a quizzical look, and she ran her fingers through her hair. “I was seventeen when Marin first started getting ill. He was twenty-one. The worst part was that he was our clan’s First, so when he started getting… erratic, everyone knew something was wrong.”

“What was wrong?” Felassan asked.

“He had… bizarre thoughts,” she said. “Delusions. It came and went, but when it was really bad, he spoke to people who weren’t there. Some of our clan thought he was possessed by a demon, but he wasn’t. He was just sick.”

“You seem very confident that he wasn’t possessed,” Felassan said.

“I am confident,” she said firmly. “He wasn’t possessed, and he wasn’t crazy. He was sick. I said this to our healers, but it was… it was hard to convince them. And there was only so much they could do — potions to keep him calm when he was really… upset.” She folded her legs and tapped her metal fingers on the table. “I was the one who could keep him calm. I was the one who was able to bring him back to reality when he was starting to get lost in his own thoughts. But he wasn’t fucking possessed.”

Felassan didn’t reply. When Tamaris met his eye, it was to find him studying her in a very piercing way. She scowled at him, but before she could speak, his face suddenly cleared, as though he’d found the solution to a riddle. 

“You have some magical talent, don’t you?” he asked.

Her heart skipped a beat. How had he figured that out? It wasn’t something she advertised. Not even all of her closest companions in the Inquisition knew. “Hardly any,” she hedged.

“But you do have some,” he insisted.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Just a little bit.”

He smiled. “You can communicate with spirits.”

Tamaris stared at him, and he chuckled and shook his head. “That’s it, isn’t it? You knew your brother was not possessed because you could see that he wasn’t.”

She swallowed hard. “How did you…?”

“It’s logical,” he said. “It makes sense.” He laughed again and patted his knees in amusement. “It makes a great deal of sense, in fact.”

She studied him suspiciously; he was clearly laughing at some kind of private joke. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I’ve always had a bit of a knack for talking to spirits. But most of my clan didn’t… they don’t know.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

“Because I would have been sent to a different clan if they found out,” she said. “We already had three mages, and my parents didn’t want to send me away.”

Felassan nodded slowly. “Ah, yes. Those wonderful Dalish customs.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Those customs are better than fucking Chantry Circles, at least. And I can tell you that with certainty because that’s where Marin ended up. The clan that took care of you wasn’t the only one that ran afoul of fucking Templars.”

His playful expression faded instantly to seriousness. “Tell me.”

Tamaris scowled at the mostly-empty plate of fruit. “We were trading with some humans near Markham. Marin was having a bad time of it. He… a human got injured, and they called the Templars. The Templars came before we could leave, and they said either we had to hand Marin over, or they would kill my entire clan.”

Felassan’s expression softened with sympathy. “Oh, Tamaris.”

She clenched her jaw and idly flicked the fruit plate. “Marin went with the Templars. They took him to the Circle Tower at Kinloch Hold. We never—” She broke off abruptly; her eyes were burning.  

She lifted her gaze to the hideous chandelier overhead. A moment later, Felassan was silently settling into the chair opposite her. 

She refused to look at him. She breathed in slowly through her nose before speaking again. “We didn’t hear what happened to him after that. The Chantry doesn’t really give a fuck about passing news on to Dalish clans about their stolen family members. When I became the Inquisitor, I… I asked our commander what happened to Marin, since he used to be stationed at Kinloch Hold.”

“Your brother was made Tranquil,” Felassan said.

His voice was very soft. Tamaris pressed her lips together hard before speaking. “Yes,” she gritted. “And then he was killed. Caught in the crossfire during some kind of blood magic conspiracy that the Hero of Ferelden broke up.”

“I remember,” Felassan said quietly.

Tamaris swallowed the lump in her throat, then shrugged and put a grape in her mouth even though she wasn’t at all hungry. “So that’s it,” she said, and she bit down viciously on the fruit. “That’s why I’m good at calming people down. To some degree, at least. Practice makes perfect.”

Felassan tapped her knee. “Avise alas’nirelan.”

She paused with another grape halfway to her mouth. “Fire… what?”

“Avise alas’nirelan,” he repeated. “It means ‘she who dances with fire.’”

She huffed. “Or maybe I have a death wish, like you said.”

“No, you don’t,” he said.

She bristled at how confident he sounded. “You don’t know me.”

“Well, given that we’ll be here together for some time, I will soon enough,” he replied.

His tone was irreverent once more, but his face was serious and calm. All of a sudden, she wanted to be alone. 

She stood up. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit,” she said, and she headed for the stairs.

“I’ll be here,” he called after her. “Washing the dishes and other charming domestic things.”

She stopped at the foot of the stairs and winced. “Fuck. I forgot to…” She gestured awkwardly at the table. “Thank you for breakfast. This was really good. That omelette was perfect.” 

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a gracious nod. “Go on. Rest your pretty head.”

She lifted an eyebrow. This was the second time he’d called her pretty, and she couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or if he was joking around. 

She eyed him suspiciously, but he was already collecting the dishes. She shrugged it off and headed to her bedroom, then closed the door and sat on the bed. 

For a while, she just sat at the edge of the bed staring vacantly at nothing in particular. It had been years now since she’d spoken of Marin to anyone. Most of her closest companions in the Inquisition knew the basics of what had happened, but only four people knew the story in detail: Cole, Varric, Cassandra, and Solas.

Cole knew because Cole knew everything. Varric knew because of his uncanny knack for getting even the most taciturn grumps to talk, including Tamaris herself. Cassandra knew because of the heart-to-heart she and Tamaris had had one night on the Storm Coast, and Tamaris still remembered that night as the moment that she and Cassandra had finally shifted from mutual suspicion to cautious friends. And Solas knew because… because Tamaris had trusted him. 

She’d trusted him. Like a fucking idiot, she’d trusted him, and he’d reciprocated that trust with empty words of love and lies of omission. 

A tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away impatiently, but now that she was alone, it was like her eyes had decided to betray her; she was crying in earnest now, and she couldn’t tell what exactly was making her cry, because there were so many miserable thoughts in her head. There was Marin, with his boyish grin and his haunted green eyes and his screams for Tamaris and their parents to let him stay. There was Solas, with his shiny armour and his tragic face telling her too many belated truths and failing to convince her that he loved her. There was the qunari invasion in the north and the missing Grey Wardens and Varric’s worried little smile as he’d watched drinking yesterday. 

And there was Felassan. Felassan, who had known Solas back when they both were young. Felassan, who had sacrificed himself to give Briala a chance to make things better for their people. 

Felassan, who didn’t know yet that Solas had taken the eluvians back from Briala. 

She closed her eyes, and another rivulet of tears ran down her face. Fuck, she thought. She’d honestly meant to tell him yesterday, but then she’d needed to calm him down, and she’d completely forgotten.

She sighed and flopped onto her back, and something hard pressed into her spine: Felassan’s slightly singed ironwood rod, which she’d tucked into the back of her trousers for safekeeping. She pulled the rod out and placed it gently on her bedside table, and her eyes fell on the bottle of rum that sat there. 

There was enough left inside of it for maybe one more night of oblivion, and then she’d be out, having purposely not bought more in the market yesterday. 

She sniffled and stared morosely at the bottle for some time while the tears continued to leak out of her eyes. She could always ask Varric to bring her some more, but she could imagine his worried face only too clearly if she asked for more rum, and the thought only made her feel worse. 

She sat up and grabbed the bottle of rum. She pulled out the cork and emptied the bottle with four big gulps, then replaced the bottle on the table and settled onto her side once more. 

She closed her eyes and waited for the booze to make its way through her blood. She’d been meaning to stop drinking for some time now, ever since Bull had stopped offering her maraas-lok when they were sitting around the fire at night. This was as good a time as any. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do but keep an eye on Felassan.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and her miserable thoughts gradually dulled to a tolerable feeling of melancholy. Just as she was falling asleep, a hazy image of a face drifted across her mind. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Solas. Even more surprisingly given the topic of the morning, it wasn’t Marin either.

It was Felassan. Tamaris’s sluggish mind conjured a stray thought of Felassan’s wry and sympathetic smile, and then she faded into the blissful blackness of sleep. 

[missmudpie]

Name Ten Films That Have, For Whatever Reason, Stuck With You

@millennialfangirl tagged me, and this was harder than I thought and I might have gone over the ten.  Also, tumblr is being tumblr and not cooperating with gifs, so only the first film has one.  Here they are, in chronological order:

Casablanca, 1942

Look, Casablanca is the best film ever made.  Is it my favorite?�� No, but it’s the best, much better than Citizen Kane, which is often heralded as the pinnacle of cinema but is about a rich old white guy who loves his sled.

Here’s looking at you, kid.  Of all the Gin joints.  Round up the usual suspects!  I’m shocked - shocked!- to find that gambling is going on in here (Your winnings, sir.). This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.  As Time Goes By.  Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman and a supporting cast to die for.  Renault throwing away the bottle of Vichy water.

I could go on, but here’s why Casablanca has stuck with me: It’s one of my Dad’s favorite movies, too.  When I think of Casablanca, I think of him.  One Christmas (I can’t remember if I was in high school or college), the old timey theater in town played Casablanca.  I got us tickets as his Christmas present.  It is one of my favorite movie-going experiences (more on that below).

Star Wars, 1977

When I was little, we used to go to my maternal grandparents’ house every Tuesday, and I would watch Star Wars.  I was probably waaaaay too young - there’s audio of me playing out Star Wars with my My Little Ponies and I was like, three.  On my college essay, I wrote about how Return of the Jedi was my first movie (true story, I was six months old and slept through the whole thing, because apparently taking your sleeping infant to the movies is something parents did in the ‘80s).

Star Wars is where I learned about the Hero’s Journey.  About princesses and rebellions and wizards and flying spaceships.  I devoured the Timothy Zahn books and Young Jedi Knights series.  And yes, I’m a little down on it all after Episode IX - but I still love it.  It has impacted me in so many ways.  I know my life would be the poorer for not having seen it.

Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981

If Princess Leia was the first damsel I saw who get herself out of distress, Marian Ravenwood was the one who solidified the idea that women were perfectly capable of getting into and out of trouble themselves, thank you very much.  Then there’s Harrison Ford in being Peak Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones - Intelligent, clever, brave-bordering-on-reckless.  Who wouldn’t want to go on far-flung adventures to find hidden treasure, and maybe punch some Nazis while you’re at it?

The Goonies, 1985

Speaking of far-flung adventures, how about going on one in your hometown?  Booby-traps, pirates, Italian gangsters, Sloth, hidden treasure - it’s every kid’s playtime fantasy come magically to life.  I still want to go down those tunnel slides and shoot out into a hidden lagoon.  They just don’t make movies like this any more - fun, family movies that don’t dumb down the action or characterization for kids, that’s a ride for both kids and parents alike.  This was the first movie I showed my kids during quarantine.

The Princess Bride, 1987

Inconceivable.  The Six Fingered Man.  Death cannot stop truly love.  Only mostly dead.  Have fun storming the castle!  Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die.  ROUSes.

This is a perfect movie.  It is.  It is lightning in a bottle and it should never, ever be remade (those were just rumors, right?).  This is romance and humor and suspense and two of the best swordfights in cinematic history (fight me on this.  No, really, fight me.  I took fencing in college because of this movie), all wrapped up in the sweetest Happily Ever After.  I love it so much.

Jurassic Park, 1993

I’ve told this story before, but here it is again.  In the summer of 1993, I was 10 and my sisters were 8 and just turned 6, and we convinced our parents that we were for sure old enough to see Jurassic Park - a book my mother had read and thus knew what level of horror to expect.  It did not go well.  I ended up burying my head in my dad’s chest; my youngest sister was in my mom’s lap; and my middle sister, with no where left to go, ended up under the seat in front of her.

Now, it’s the movie we quote (Hold on to your butts).  When my youngest had jello recently, I told him to hold it up and look scared, then texted the picture around.  We all knew immediately what I meant.  The DVDs are given as gifts and then immediately stolen.  My youngest sister can recite the entire movie.  I can’t wait to scare my sons with it.

The Shawshank Redemption, 1994

I don’t remember this movie when it came out; I remember it was this movie I hadn’t really heard of at the Oscars, where it won none.  Not until I was much older did I realize what a travesty that was.  I first watched this on a pep band bus trip in college - not the time or place to truly appreciate it.  Months later, I rented it (remember renting movies?) and fell in love with it.

This is a beautiful movie about friendship and hope and finding light in the darkness.  It’s always on TV, and I will always stop and watch at least a few minutes of it.  The ending - the last half hour, really - is pure cinematic poetry, but noting beats Red’s monologue as he travels to find Andy on that Mexican beach.

That Thing You Do!, 1996

This movie is Capital-D-Delightful.  Just thinking about it makes me smile.  This is the movie that tipped me from Tom Hanks Fan to I Love Tom Hanks and Need Him to Be My Best Friend.  He WROTE and DIRECTED this gem of a movie.  The talent.  The song is legitimately catchy, the characters are Wonder-ful (see what I did there?), and it’s all in Day-Glo ‘60s color.  I love this movie and make no apologies.

Toy Story 2, 1999

Speaking of Tom Hanks, this is my favorite Toy Story.  Look, the first is a technological marvel, but Woody is an ass throughout most of the film.  The fourth is it’s own thing, and the third is really, really good and I ugly sob at the end, but it’s also got a lot going on there.  But the second - oh the second is beautiful in its simplicity.  In addition to all of Andy’s toys, we get Jesse and Bullseye and even Stinky Pete.  It’s an ode to friendship and love and the realization that life, for toys and people, eventually ends, and we have to appreciate every moment we have now.  It is my favorite Toy Story.

Finding Nemo, 2003

I don’t know if it’s my favorite Pixar film, though.  It depends on the day, but most of the time that distinction goes to Finding Nemo.  I first saw it when I was twenty, a decade before my first kid was born, but it has greatly influenced how I parent.  The conversation between Dory and Marlin in the whale, the idea that keeping anything from happening to your kid cuts both ways, the leap of faith, the mantra of “just keep swimming,” the notion that your kids don’t just want, but need to have independence - it’s all there, in Pixar’s stunning ocean animation.  I get choked up just thinking about it.  “Now go have an adventure!”

Honorable Mentions:

Forrest Gump, 1994

I loved this movie.  I love Tom Hanks in this movie.  I would watch it in snippets during college, while I ate dinner or lunch or just needed a quick study break.  But it’s been years since I last saw it, and I wonder if it still holds up.  It’s a Boomer movie made when the Boomers were - basically, just a little older than we old Millennials are now.  It’s American history in the last half of the twentieth century, but the big events - Vietnam, Civil Rights, even AIDS - are filtered through the lens of a straight white man who kinda wanders into history but doesn’t really get why the moments are historic.  I feel like it’s a film I appreciated at a certain time, but wouldn’t love as much now.

Avengers: Endgame, 2019

There just hasn’t been enough time for this movie to make the list.  Ask about it again in ten years.  Although, to be honest, I haven’t seen the whole thing since I saw it in theaters, and I fear it won’t live up.  It was the best movie-going experience I’ve ever had.  The crowd was so into it, and the last battle had everyone, me included, screaming at the screen.  Part of what makes Endgame so special to me is that, among the three big franchises that ended last year (Avengers, Star Wars, Game of Thrones), this one actually stuck the landing.  And yes, I could argue that Steve Rogers’ end doesn’t actual make any sense and deprives Peggy Carter of her agency - but in the emotional moment of the film, it worked.  That portal scene is the culmination of twenty-plus films, and I still can’t believe it works as well as it does.

Thanks again for this! I second tagging @lerayon for this.  I feel like I’m kinda cold-calling mutuals from our Arrow days, so no pressure.  But I’d love to hear what @machawicket @dust2dust34 @dettiot @theshipsfirstmate​ have on their lists.

[bhaalxbabe]

50 Interesting OC Asks

TW: Kal & Victor are just terrible so things they say might be disturbing

1. What is a rumor people tell about them? 

For Asiel and Alaina it’s definitely how many people they slept with or who they slept with. For Erasmus it’s that he’s a virgin. They’re wrong but they’re also not wrong. I think Stephane would have weird rumors ?? Where people assume scary things about him like he has a sex slave dungeon or something or that he’s so immune to all types of drugs that nothing can get him high anymore and that���s why he’s a fucking savage. But in reality Stephane sits in his room and eats ice cream. 

2. How long would they last in the zombie apocalypse? 

If there was no one watching Alaina - not long. I think she would be able to sneak by but that could only last for so long. Erasmus would be fucking dead in an instant if there was no one. Asiel, Stephane, Eskandar, and Ruben are def the top contenders. Kal too !! VICTOR WOULD WANT TO FUCK THE ZOMBIES AND I AM UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT THOUGHT. 

 3. If they’re about to get in a fight, what song plays in their head as their ‘hype song’? 

Alaina: 7/11 - Beyonce (I love to think this is both hers and Asiel’s hype song and when this comes on they dance like a bunch of dumbasses)

Stephane: Don’t Stop - Innerpartysystem

Asiel: Everybody - Don Broco OR War Child - Hollywood Undead

Ruben: Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand 

Kal: Backmask - Mindless Self Indulgence (GOD THIS SONG IS JUST HIM)

Cesaire: I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys

4. How important is family to them? 

To Alaina it’s important but it’s more like...the whole idea of family ? Since she doesn’t have her own ? Like she considers the Demonios her family so they are important to her. For Stephane he didn’t give a single FUCK about family until he and Alaina had theirs, but before he despised the whole idea of family and thought it was fake. The same thing for Asiel. For Cesaire I feel like family would be a difficult and uncomfortable topic. He hated his dad and was basically forced to hate his twin brother but he got the better end of it ? I think he would be confused on what like...constitutes a good family. 

5. If they had a theme song, what would it be? 

Letha: Stripper by Sohodolls & Future Nostalgia - Dua Lipa

Ophelia: Portrait of a Female by Cruel Youth & Violence by Grimes 

Kal: House of Wolves by My Chemical Romance

Victor: The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid (THIS IS MY ABSOLUTE FAV)

6. What’s a movie they can quote from start to finish? 

Asiel can quote dumb humor movies like Idiocracy or something and Letha can also...quote those.

Asiel: Please speak your name!

Letha: Well, i’m not sure that-

Asiel: You have entered the name, NOT SURE. Is NOT SURE correct ?

Letha: No it’s not correct-

Asiel: Thank you! NOT is correct ! Is SURE correct?

Letha: No, it’s not-

Asiel: We already confirmed your first name is NOT 

8. If they were given 1000 acres of land with no strings attached, what would they do with it? 

ALAINA WOULD HAVE A FARM !!! SHE WOULD HAVE A FARM AND SHE WOULD BE SOOOO HAPPY !! And Stephane would join her and he would’t really do anything except cheer his wife on and Alaina accepts that 

13. How did they find out Santa isn’t real?

Erasmus: Well, I was around eight or so. I thought the idea of Santa, this magical person who appeared from our chimneys who ate our cookies and delivered our gifts was absolutely absurd. There is about 7.5 billion people in the world and you expect me to believe this single man could visit all the children in a single night and do all of that? No. Impossible. I confronted my parents and they finally told me it was them.

Alaina, Asiel, Stephane, Eskandar, Kal, Letha, LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A CHILDHOOD @ ERASMUS: .....

14. What’s a personality trait they wish they had? 

Alaina wishes she was smarter.

Asiel wishes he was able to feel empathy. 

Erasmus (secretly and in denial) wishes he was funny. 

16. If they were arrested with no explanation, what would their friends and family think they had done? 

Alaina: Asiel got arrested ?! I told him he wasn’t allowed in that donut shop anymore !!! :’(

Asiel: Lanes is in jail ??? GOOD FOR HER !! Finally someone punched her ‘jail card’. So what was it for? Public intoxication or indecency?

Erasmus: I told Letha nudes weren’t allowed on twitter !!!!

Ophelia: Kal ?? In jail ?? You’re fucking with me. Kal never gets caught. You’re just trying to trick me into leaving so he’d be able to go “SURPRISE!” and break my other leg.

17. In 40 years, what will they be the most nostalgic about? 

Victor: Do you remember the night we all went to the strip club together? And I saw that beautiful girl, with the smoothest skin. Candi, I believe her name was, with an ‘i’. Her body was almost perfectly preserved without the help of my chemicals for almost a week! A week with that smooth skin underneath my fingertips. I wanted to cut them off after, afraid that if I didn’t nothing was ever going to feel as good underneath my skin like that ever again. She looked just like she was before I killed her. It was the best sex I've ever had, what I would give to relive that week.

Ophelia:  😟

Kal: *Zzzzzzz* 

18. How would they describe their family? 

Kal would describe his family as “boring” which would be the reason why he killed them 

I’d like to imagine that Victor’s famiy died in a v traumatic way ? Where he had to see their corpses or something which was why he turned out the way he is - so fascinated with the dead but i’ll get back to that later 

I’m kind of torn on how Asiel would react to questions about his family, since he resents them so much I don’t think he would outwardly express that because that’s Asiel’s thing, you can’t find out WHY he hates the world but I feel like he’d be too upset to lie about it so he would dodge the question but in a v sneaky way so you wouldn’t see he was bothered by the question 

20. Do they have any pets? If so, what are they? 

ALAINA HAS TWO (2) PETS !! A German Shepherd named Orpheus and a Green Anaconda named No Feet or Nofie for short

23. What’s the most important object they own? 

I’d like to think that somewhere Stephane has a picture of his family (with Ciro’s face cut out) and he even couldn’t bring himself to cut Cesaire out and he occasionally looks over it fondly when he’s feeling a certain type of way \

I feel like Asiel would have something from Natalie, his sister (I should ?? Change her name LOL) that reminds him of her, lately I have been thinking of killing her off LOL to increase Asiel’s angst and bitterness towards the world so an item that would remind him of her would be so so important to him 

24. What event in their life would make a good movie? 

EVERYONE’S LIFE IS A FUCKING MOVIE THEY’RE ALL IN THE MAFIA 

27. What makes a person beautiful to them? 

Alaina thinks everyone is beautiful in their own way and they have certain specific things about them that makes them beautiful 

Stephane would find genuine kindness beautiful, just being kind not for any other reason than you genuine want to help and you genuinely care (tbh just Alaina in generally, if you’re anything like her you’re all set) 

Erasmus is the same way with genuine kindness, but I feel like he’s moreso people being happy ? Because he’s kind of sad and grumpy and seeing people being happy and enjoying their life he finds very attractive (NOT ASIEL ENJOYING HIS LIFE THOUGH) 

Victor thinks people going into rigor mortis is beautiful so...there’s...that 

Asiel would also be attractive to genuineness but not kindness specifically, just people actually being themselves and not afraid of being themselves - but also Asiel finds everyone hot ?? so 

I think Kal is incapable of finding people beautiful or attractive because he’s so fucking egotistical but I think what would peak his interest is people who are interesting - like if you can make him think you’re worth keeping alive he might fuck you or smthing or at least not kill you so that’s a plus 

28. If they turned into their crush/significant other for a day, what would they do? 

ALAINA WOULD BE SO EXCITED TO BE STEPHANE FOR SOME REASON like I feel like she’d take it as an opportunity to understand him better and she would just be excited to view the world from his “tall perspective” 

Stephane would flip the fuck out for the first solid five minutes but then use the opportunity to take more pictures of Alaina in outfits or underwear he’d always want her to wear (with her permission ofc) god and I feel like he would love the opportunity to be mean to people while in her body just to see people’s faces of Alaina cussing them out but then he knew she’d cry so he would refrain from doing that 

36. Do they believe things happen for a reason? 

CESAIRE BELIEVES IN FATE SO FUCKING MUCH like he believes in zodiac signs and things that are written in the stars, if something is meant to happen then it would have happened is definitely his motto but he would definitely work hard to make things happen as well 

42. Do they drink/smoke/do drugs? 

Alaina is an alcoholic in Arc 1 because she believes that since her life is better now she shouldn’t be feeling sad and thinking that she has problems because her life could be so much worse so she drinks to “cope” with her problems and eventually Etienne gets her into drugs as well but after she breaks up with Etienne, Asiel helps her become sober 

Asiel used to drink and do drugs like in an excessive amount but when he ODed and scared Natalie by almost dying he quit that 

Stephane, Kal, Ruben, and Eskandar smoke but it’s all casual 

46. What is something silly they’ve been tricked into believing? 

Alaina would believe anything you tell her from fucking anyone she’s so fucking dumb and I love her so fucking much for it she’s so cute 

50. What topic could they give a 20 minute presentation on with no preparation?

Asiel: Anyways, and that’s why the Ninja Turtles are better than the Avengers, any questions ? 

Erasmus: THIS IS A PROFESSIONAL MEETING !!!!!!

[osamuniichann]

Map of the Soul: 7

After a ~315 day drought without new music and a comeback from the legends, we are finally back with MOTS: 7! It been a hot minute since ive done a album review (solely for myself LMAO) so lets get back into it bc this album is a home run

Interlude: Shadow. Here we have the extended version of the interlude. can i just say that the lyrics to this masterpiece are so real and true. its not suga speaking nor is it agust d, this is min yoongi speaking of his internal conflict with the celebrity life, which is heartbreaking. on another note, the visuals of the mv are stunning and the ending--dont u just wanna go apeshit??? truly a great addition to the album!

Black Swan. sister black swan has been with us for a month-ish now? it still bumps. HARD. i blasted this to and from my drive to work to the point where i was scared if id get sick of the song but that didnt happen. the way how its hard to pinpoint when and where a member would sing/rap because they INTENTIONALLY wanted the voices to blend as if they were one body. this is the group’s narrative on how no matter how passionate one is on a certain craft, when they lose that drive, its like a death. and it is up to themselves to spark that love and interest once again. a very relatable story across various media, talents, skills, etc.

Filter. When I first heard that this was a jimin solo showcasing the many sides of Jimin, i thought that it was going to be a sad ballad to kind of follow the theme mots: 7 seemed to give off; thought that it would talk about how he has to force personas onto himself to appeal to the masses, but it is the complete opposite. Jimin is all the faces he puts on, he can be cute, sweet, and caring Jimin but he is also a sexy, flirty young man that can attract any living being. how he switches from falsettos to a lower register voice is beyond me, what a versatile one he is! <3

My Time. Moving onto jungkook’s solo, I knew the lyrics were going to be sad especially when it seems to compare himself to others his age. How he speaks about how fast time runs for him, how his childhood and current life is not of the average 22 year old (LIKE UM HERE I AM, SAME AGE AS JUNGKOOK AND IM NORMAL AF while he’s out here breaking records?? WOW). but the life of jungoo can be a bit overwhelming, completely understandable. I just want our boi JK to know that he can be himself and live freely despite such different circumstances. On another note, the groove of this track is so GOOD. it reminds me of Ari and ugh i LIVE for this jam

Louder Than Bombs. When the track started, I could totally tell Troye Sivan helped produce it, it has such a unique sound that only Troye would use. It sounds like this song would totally be on a movie soundtrack IDK WHY. like, i can picture it during an apocalypse movie sldkjg im not completely sure what the meaning is to the song (bc im big stupid) but i feel like its a track saying that no matter the struggles, they will continue to sing confidently, strongly, and wholly to us endlessly. beautiful, just beautiful.

ON. Moving on to the title track of MOTS: 7! I’m very picky about strong anthem-type songs but ON is actually p addicting HAHA There’s a background sound that repeats in the back that sounds like Sans from Undertale, aint that wild LMAO but anyways, the Manifesto Film was crazy good. The drums, the band, the breakdown of it all? UNBELIEVABLE. Also, JK’s vocals during the bridge? H O W. That breakdown tho...oof, that was amazing. They still dance with the thirst that rookie bts would and i think thats why ppl are so drawn to them no matter how many years pass. Fun fact: the choreographer of ON as well as Dionysus actually is from my city in Hawaii and we went to the same high school THATS WILD. the talent she holds!

UGH! Rap line ATE this shit, are we KIDDING. An ode to all the hate comments that we receive, u can see how fed up they are. They made POINTS and we all agree, its the damn law. The way how they opened up with a gunshot, we knew it was coming. Everyone joked about how we bout to hear some gunshots on this album, well they threw ALL of it on this track. Can i just say that Hobi’s verse tho? it hits different, it really do. When they went “ahem, ahem. ahem, ahem-ahem, YOUR AHEM. AHEM-AHEM--” OOOOOUGH i felt that shit!! god, imagine this in concert...the building aint ready!

0:00 (Zero O’ clock). Now we have the vocal line track, we knew they were bout to present some vocals. Great sound, slow and reflecting. Not the first track I’d listen to but it is a great listen. The lyrics tho get to me. The way how they comfort us and say that life can be rough but you can be happy. no matter what happens, with the turning of the clock to 0:00, its a brand new day and we can make the day better. what a powerful message that all of us need to hear once in a while. we will be happy guys, we deserve to be.

Inner Child. Tae’s solo which is a message to his young self. I expected a slow ballad filled with his warm vocals reminiscent of Winter Bear, 4 o’ clock, and Scenery but boi was I wrong. He has this sunset glow voice that wraps u so warmly and the sound is just so happy, pure, and innocent. Its a hopeful message to his younger self on how we will change and be the amazing person we want to or will be. I was sobbing at this song, I tell u. It was 2:00 am in the morning and I was sobbing into my pillow. Imagine comforting your past self that everything will be okay and to take ur hand, it will be all worth it in the end. When he sang “ur my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy!” Ugh...the tears!

Friends. When I heard this was a vmin duet expressing their friendship with each other, I knew it was going to be so emotional! I didn’t expect such a fun, poppy sound tho. They truly are soulmates, the love they have for each other is so wholesome and real, it truly exhibits the love I have for my friends--they’ve been with me through thick and thin, during happy and sad times; the amounts of serotonin they give me is just HHHH. The way how Tae and Jimin have been friends since high school until now is just ugh...we love it. Towards the end when they started singing “you are my soulmate!” towards each other, i started sobbing so hard because WOW. the shivers i felt, this song made me so happy and full! 

Moon. Next we have Jin’s solo which is an ode to us army’s. And on another perspective, this is a song from the moon (jin) to the Earth (army)--i have tears in my eyes. The lyrics especially got me in a chokehold and made me sob, the way how he says that he will always be by our side no matter what, the same way how we are there for him...god. The chorus really gets to me, it feels so happy and thankful and I just want to tell Jin that I will forever follow him and the boys. They’ve been with me for years now and I will continue to support, love, and listen to them. Ily to the moon and back, our moon.

Respect. I didn’t expect a Namgi duet but HERE WE ARE. Goddd when i heard that i was SO EXCITE. They’ve known each other for +10 years now and they never miss the chance to tell everyone that they’ve been friends for that long. Not @ how they disliked each other at first but grew to be so mf close, to the point where their family. Ughhh, im so uwu rn. Im so happy, so so happy that Nams started it with AYO SUGA; i SCREAMED. Also, i heard that they recorded it in one take and i could see how much fun they had--especially considering that their rap styles are completely different. Even tho in the song they joke about not knowing what the word Respect means, we know...we just KNOW the high amounts of respect they have for each other. As they mentioned before, Yoon’s respects towards Nams’ leadership and care towards everyone and Nams’ respect towards Yoon’s love and passion for music and producing. Peak comedy is Yoongs overloading on autotune during his parts to the point where its intentional. Bless Namgi.

We are Bulletproof: The Eternal. I felt like a CLOWN when this track started. Like everyone, i thought we were going to have a third installment similar to that of the strong, hip-hop, gunshot-filled part 1 and 2 of we are bulletproof, but we were met with soft vocals and rap. The lyrics tho get to me. This truly was a song about their entire journey and i felt like I experienced all years with them. They’ve been through so much and the way how they sang “we are we are together/forever bulletproof!” They are proud of where they came from and it has stuck with them till now. They are such real people...i cry. ALSO the “We were only seven, but we have you all now.” Whenever i see pictures of their debut fanmeets/concerts vs now its just crazy. imagine singing as an entire being during concerts when they start “OOOOH OH OHH” im so immensely proud of the feats they’ve reached and im excited on what they do next! <3

Outro: Ego. The way how he started it with the fitness gram pacer test just like in previous albums, ugh what a throwback! this song is such a Hobi track, its fun, dance-inducing and its just so FEEL GOOD. the way how he switches flows and is capable of doing so is *chef’s kiss* the way how he speaks about the path he takes is difficult but he doesnt regret it...SOBS also the mv??? UGH SO CUTE. the flashbacks too;; i cry

ON (feat. Sia). With this track, there’s not much extra I can say, all my opinions still stand with the original track wit ot7. I jokingly told my friend that if Sia is gonna be on the track “hey nanana’ing” the same why Halsey was only “oh my my my’ing” i will ctfu. and...welp, that was what happened. I do love Sia tho so props to her!

Overall: I initially thought that MOTS: 7 was going to be a dark, ballad-filled album but it was anything but. It had so much fun songs, the lyrics are again, so deep and meaningful--it pulls at your heartstrings. It felt so raw, personal, emotional, and i love it in all its being. The boys will continue to amaze me no matter what they put out and i forever and endlessly will support and love them the same way they do for us. MOTS: 7 is a masterpiece and im in love

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch V - CSSNS 2019

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

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

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

Read on AO3 here.

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

Written for @cssns

Ch 5 / ?? - In which shit goes to hell

Emma did not see Killian again for over a week, which was almost a blessing in its own right. It allowed her to fully gain Elsa’s friendship and respect, a fact which delighted both Ingrid and Anna in turn. At first. 

They soon discovered that Emma and El sa were a pair to be reckoned with, though, which ended with Anna shrieking and throwing pillows at them when Elsa discovered a poem from Anna’s long term boyfriend.

“An Ode to Anna, Princess of Reindeer,” she read, as Emma laughed and Anna tried to snatch the piece of colored, smooth parchment back. “‘While one has antlers and in the forest hides, I only wish I could lay a crown as lovely, before you were my bride.’ Oh Anna, how romantic, Kristoff has outdone himself. I especially love the part about how he wants to ride you as well -" 

Anna went scarlet from forehead to fingers, the blush making her eyes blaze as they wrestled. Emma knew she was missing the butt of some joke, but it still took a few passes for them to explain - and by them, of course, she meant Elsa only, as Anna was too scandalized to contribute. 

"We’ve been together for decades, it’s cold here, and we aren’t getting any younger!” Anna protested. “Plus, he’s dreamy in his coat, his nose is always warm, and his pockets fit both of our hands with a sandwich to boot. Perfect man." 

Emma was rapidly discovering that courting was very different than even the most modern standards at home. Here, relationships were loud, heady, and were what Anna called 'the most progressive in modern history’. Elsa only rolled her eyes, and muttered about it being about time that women could wear pants. At Emma’s pressing, they showed her another glossy photo book similar to the one that Ingrid had given her, this one a 'Fashion Magazine’. 

Pale women graced the pages, sporting large teeth - some gapped, much to Emma’s fascination - stick-like long eyelashes, and long pin-straight hair falling to improper lengths. They wore the same long dresses in floral patterns that were similar to those in Emma’s wardrobe back home, only with no bodice, petticoat, or undergarment. Elsa flipped the pages to show Emma a woman with a bright pink bubble in her mouth, her eyelashes long and rimmed with kohl and a shockingly bright cobalt liner, her hair piled high on her head behind a thick white band like a cone. 

"A beehive. They’re all the rage. I guess that even Twiggy, Jackie O, and Mia Farrow have been spotted with them.” Elsa flipped a page to a skinny woman in a scarf, shiny white boots, and a scandalous dress. Emma sucked in a breath, feeling like a child being caught with illicit materials. The other women didn’t bat an eye, Anna flipping until the page displayed a darker, olive skinned woman with freckles and cloud-like curly brown hair wearing a shirt and breeches made of denim material. Emma’s mouth fell open in surprise; pants apparently were breeches, and not made of supple leather or soft calico, but of cotton denim. 

“It’s soft, I have a pair. They wash them so they aren’t scratchy like cattle sacks,” Elsa supplied. 

“I prefer skirts myself, still. I like to model myself after Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly. The classics, you know,” Anna said, and Emma tried to nod in agreement though she was terribly confused. 

The week dragged on like this, no one too worried about Killian missing. 

“He’ll show up when he decides he can forgive himself, so we can forgive him in turn. Or when he wants to be fed,” Ingrid said on the fourth night, as they settled in to watch a horror film playing on what they called a 'television’. Her voice fell to a teasing bitter tone, and she gave Emma a wry smile. “It’s why we don’t go and get a cat; it would have competition. He wasn’t always this intense, but even before that parasitic leech he needed space to realize what an idiot he is.”

They ate popcorn and drank hot chocolate, Emma convincing them to try it with cinnamon. It was a hit with everyone, especially when the movie became terrifying and they huddled behind pillows. Emma had never seen any Fae that terrified her, but this was a monster and not a Fae at all, and a swamp monster at that. Its dead, cold eyes as it tried to catch its young victim made Emma feel ill. They reminded her of Nil. 

Emma’s sleep that night was difficult and filled with shadows, shapes she couldn’t discern or make out, and hallways with no end. Waking with a start, she was relieved when she found all of them asleep under a blanket, together on the couch. 

Life dragged on and the comfort of a routine helped some as Emma tried to make sense of everything new all at once. Killian was still nowhere to be found, an absence Emma sorely needed to collect her thoughts. She needed time to plan her next moves. Ingrid, Elsa, and Anna were ready to help with anything they could, armed with advice and suggestions. 

Chewing on a piece of chocolate cake, Anna addressed Emma over the books she was reading. Nemo had a large study full of books on the old lands and their culture, along with detailed notes. Taking advantage of this Emma spread them over the table and studied them for anything that might be of use. “So, when he comes back, don’t let him treat you any less than what you are. You need to treat him like the asshat he is. Build up some walls and armaments, you know?" 

Emma sighed, resting fingers on the bridge of her nose. "I have walls, Anna. I have armaments. I don’t like that I have to trust or rely on him any more than I like being away from my home.”

“Do you think he knows that? Challenge him. Challenge us!” Ingrid said, smirking. “Take no shit, Emma. You’re a princess, and your own general now. Your own commander. That demands confidence and respect.”

Elsa pulled the piece of cake from Anna, earning her a playful slap, as she joined the conversation. “Be like your mother. Assertive and dangerously graceful, ice and fire.”

Emma thought of her mom, how quickly and quietly she could dominate a conversation to turn it in her favor. How hard her gaze could be, how her brows furrowed as she asked a question that ensnared her prey. Her face of triumph when she was using a bow during target practice or on a hunt, or using her tongue to land centering marks in a debate. Feared and adored, respected and admired. 

When she tried to imagine that on herself, it felt wrong. How could she ever compare? 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian let himself stay away longer than normal, an eerie feeling of being followed something he couldn’t shake off. It had started in a dark cave somewhere in Africa, as he lurked in an antechamber waiting until he could move somewhere less damp. 

It persisted through his next changes in locale, before he finally sat down in a dusty bar in the rolling plains of what was now called America. Nothing about the name America made any sense; however, after some light reading and chats with the Arren women, he had come to conclude nothing about America made much sense at all - least of all, why it was not called what the Indigenous or Northmen had named it. The bar was named even more nonsensically; a squat shack that was more rust than anything else in this neverending dustbin of nothingness was not exactly a 'Tree House’.

Killian ordered two glasses of rum, sliding one over slightly, the person who had followed him sitting down without hesitation. Her skin was tan, but her eyes were tired under her cropped blonde haircut. 

“Tink,” Killian grunted slightly, her dagger’s point pressing hard into his groin. “To what do I owe thi-" 

"Listen. I’d like to make this quick and easy enough for both of us. I know you have the princess within your grasp. I have a friend who wants to ally with her. It’s complicated, but I trust you. I will be here, on these nights. Come see me. Dress nice.” She drank her rum in a flash, leaving a hearty tip and a business card, then disappeared as if she’d never even been there at all. 

He drank his own glass before picking up the business card. In ivy green ink, the front stated boldly 'Tink Rebel - Siren - DJ’; on the back were a few sporadic dates and an address. There was no way to trust her, but it was better than any other lead he’d gotten. 

It’s the only lead you’ve gotten. Magic is all but forgotten or mere banished remnants here; it should be easy to get the shard.  

“And it should be just as easy finding someone else to watch over the princess as well? Do you think we can find some ponce to pawn her off on, so we can be free of this?” Killian asked wryly, slipping the card into his pocket before stepping into the night’s shadows. 

That too. The further away she is from us the better. See if Tink can recommend a short cliff with a long fall. 

“Aye.” He disappeared again, leaving a long trail behind before returning to the nearest point he could that would get him to Ingrid’s. The walk was long, but not unwelcome. 

When he arrived it was dusk, a note on the door explaining the stillness of the house: Ingrid and Elsa were delivering a wedding cake, Anna was with her paramour, and Emma was 'practicing’. Elsa had even scribbled a little note for the princess, telling her that there was salve in the cupboard. Practicing? What could she possibly have to practice? Elsa and Emma were now on a first name basis? What all had he missed? 

Killian found Emma on the patio, the night air cooling as her she focused intently on repetitive strikes with a sword. She did not seem to notice his arrival at all, continuing to practice blocking an enemy, then parrying. 

Clearing his throat she turned with surprise, her body immediately in a well practiced defensive stance. Interesting. The princess was not a novice in swordplay. 

“Care to duel?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. 

She lowered the weapon, shaking her head. “You’re not worth it." 

His blood lit, temper flaring. "Oh? Well, don’t you sound confident. Haughtiness doesn’t suit your temperament; aren’t you supposed to be good at needle point? Swordplay is quite a bit out of the wheelhouse of the 'demure’ princess act." 

"My father is the best swordsman in the realms. He wanted me to be better, and I…” She got a far off look in her eyes for a moment, then shook it off. “I just wanted to spend time with him. I like to think that I am very good at it." 

"Thinking that you are,” he smirked, letting the Darkness ripple through his skin and muscles, picking up a discarded cutlass from the pile Ingrid must have provided, “does little to prove that you are. Shall we test your mettle, Your Highness?” Killian raised the cutlass in an attacking stance. 

To his great surprise she did not flinch or seem prostrated by this bravado, only shrugging and changing her stance to defend against his chosen style. 

“I don’t go easy on anyone, especially if they underestimate me. Are you sure you want to spar?” The calmness in her words set his teeth on edge, and he answered by throwing himself forward. She didn’t even act surprised, moving in a subtle side step that left her in his previous position, her footing incomparable. 

Killian laughed, more surprised than anything. 

“This might actually be fun, especially since there’s no welcoming party for me tonight.” He circled her, and she mirrored his steps in their defensive opposite. “I thought all of you might have missed me a bit more. My ego is wounded.”

“You left without much more than a word,” she huffed and dodged a low arc, parrying away as he dodged to strike her side. She moved quickly, adjusting to try to attack his flank. “They were worried about you. You should apologize. Your ego deserves a good, sound beating anyway." 

"They should worry less. I see that you and Elsa are thick as thieves now, though. There’s that.” Emma fluidly rolled to move in close to him, throwing him off balance and forcing him to fall back in retreat as he regained his footing. Her furious volley made him feel young again, green in the ears. Liam had given no quarter when they practiced either. 

“Elsa is great. She might forgive you if you genuinely apologize,” Emma said quietly, sword against sword, pushing with her weight as he slid the metal blade down towards her neck. He wasn’t a lad practicing with Liam anymore, and the Darkness sang in his veins reminding him of that fact. His blood boiled hot as her advice was drowned out by the buzz in his head. 

You are so weak, so beyond help, that even this castle coddled, custard fed, soft boiled, princess has you on the ropes. She’s the reason Elsa was mad, she’s the reason why all of this is happening, and what would Liam say - 

“Shut up!” Killian swung up in an arc and went after her like a madman, his attacks relentless as she played defense against them, the metal clanging sharply, enough to make his jaw smart. He spun into an attack, kicking out her leg, barely hearing her shout of disapproval. “Shut up, shut up, shut up -" 

With his back turned towards her while he was fighting with the voice in his head, Emma pushed up slightly, kicked hard, and took his legs out from under him, resulting in Killian landing on his back. Emma used her sword to smack his fingers, making him release his sword as he cursed. Killian growled at her as she took both swords and held them crossed in front of his neck. Her face was cool, expression entirely detached from the task in front of her. She had trounced him as if he was half asleep. 

That would not do. 

An outward kick of his boot aligned to connect with her knee, sending Emma falling back a step, while she was knocked out of her concentration by his crooked move. With a well practiced turn he let her sword slide against his shoulder, ripping the cloth of his shirt and digging deep into the flesh, listening with a delighted sense of malice to the horrified sound that came from her mouth. 

She doesn’t know what you are capable of. What the world is capable of.  

Emma was frozen, her breathing unsteady, her hand shaking as he yanked the other blade free of her grip. It fell with a clatter to the tile, and with another kick it slid into a flower bush while Emma looked on helplessly. 

"Do you know,” Killian circled her, her hand jerked free from the pommel as he shrugged the sword from his shoulder and kicked it away, “what people will do to you? Any of the Mortals or Fae that think that you could be a stepping stone, what they’re thinking of? They’re not going to play fair, or think about bad form . Do you think they will stop hunting you, just because of a wound? You’re going to have to fight to the death, Princess." 

Emma made a noise of rebuttal, but it was lost as he pushed her forward against one of the patio’s stone walls. Pinning her there to look in her fearful eyes made the strength the Darkness gave him pulse in his veins, its steady beat a call for more. How could he merely whet his appetite and not feast? 

Make her pay, you cowardly poltroon. Make her hurt. Make her suffer! 

Her hands fumbled, pushing him away as if she could, her movements no stronger than the touch of a butterfly. He caught one of her wrists in his hand with an iron grip, marveling at how dainty it was; it would be so easy to break, the voice in his head loud, so many voices that they were a whine covering any plea she might give.

Emma shifted slightly, eyes changed and no longer panicked as they stared up in fury. Her other hand twisted to reach the chain around her neck, taking the dagger shard that hung there and made a long slash down the hand that trapped her own. 

Killian’s brain registered two things at almost a second apart. The first was that he did not feel the slash of the dagger piece immediately. In his experience, that could mean it was such a precise and quick blade that he had not felt it, or that the pain from the newly made wound was so great, his body could not process it all at once. The second was a brutal confirmation of his thoughts, the answer arriving in an abrupt, agonizing pain that wrapped around the end of his left arm like a venomous snake. 

He threw himself away from Emma, all but shrieking as she approached with concern. 

Emma looked furious, but also terrified, her voice shaking. "I - you can’t do that, how dare you do that! Why would you do that, what is wrong with you! And I - I didn’t cut you that deep -” Her hands reached toward his forearm even as he tried to flinch away. The cut was slight to the point of barely bleeding. She was right; she had barely nicked him in the trail she made down his hand to his wrist, and then a bit longer. 

It felt as though she dipped his hand in fire, while someone rubbed jagged glass up and down his nerves. Killian saw white, the world taken from him in bright flashes that made the Darkness screech. His hand was burning, the world was burning. 

As soon as it had come, it was gone. The same delicate wrist twisted to let slender fingers on her cool hand slide across the scrape, all pain gone, disappearing to next to nothingness. Light poured into him, light that was so vast, so intangible, so heavy in ways that were not bound by any laws Killian knew. The Darkness fled, hid away from what it knew was something ancient that followed no arcane limitations. His shoulder wound closed up as she laid a hand over it, the knitted flesh without an ache or scar that the Darkness would have left. 

The moment she was done, Emma scrambled backward and so did he, the distance as they both caught their breath warranted. 

Killian examined her, watching her shoulders shake and her hair fall in a curtain around her face. There was a dull ache in his hand briefly, but the Darkness was only a far off murmur. It was far too weak to protest when he moved closer, muttering an apology in her direction. 

“I don’t - M'sorry.”

For her part, Emma nodded as she shrank away, before she stood to stare down at him. “You always have so many apologies, Killian. So many times when you could have just been…” Emma trailed off, biting her lip and fighting back emotions. She collected herself with another breath. “You could just try to forego apologies, to try and get it right without having to break someone first. What did you - what did it want you to do to me? What would you have had to apologize for if I hadn’t…”

He could not think of a reply, and if he had, he would not have given it. Emma was right. Watching her walk away, his hand throbbed. Looking down at the long mark, Killian noticed it was reopening, the dull ache starting at the top of his palm making his fingers stiffen and bend. With the princess’s departure, the Darkness crept back in slow increments, and he waited for their own dark magic to do its healing work on his crooked fingers. 

The Darkness pushed at the scrape, its powerful magic attempting to imitate the light that had healed Killian’s shoulder. When nothing happened, the Darkness howled, strange emotions running through it and its vessel. Among the heaviest of them was the Darkness’ terror, and Killian’s feeling of a deep, burning regret, laced with shame. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma managed to avoid him in ways that grew more cunning with each day that passed. The date was set for their meeting with Tink and entry into the club, preparations being made by everyone in the house as they focused on Emma. He hadn’t even told her about this potential meeting, she had to learn of the development through Elsa, the coward. It was easier for him to disappear that way, his own form of avoidance from the way Ingrid’s ever-knowing eyes immediately narrowed in on the way Emma and he pretended that the other didn’t exist 

Elsa dug out a dagger to match the sword they found for Emma, which Anna helped her practice with. Anna was a surprisingly talented blade fighter, and he could see Emma’s tension ease when Anna volunteered to help her train. He had also seen the quick look of panic at the thought of having to partner with him again. 

She’s scared of you, this goes in our favor. The look of fear there is -  

“Enough.”

You weren’t going to hurt her, just instill a bit of real world fear. We only listed some suggestions of things to tell her, not things to do. Those were ideas, just that. You didn’t act on them, even if you could have. You could have, but you weren’t strong enough. You frightened her and look at how well it worked! 

Killian snorted, scrubbing up his face before giving up and resting his head in his hands. Weak enough? He was plenty weak enough, and the Darkness knew it too, had whispered into his ear things no one should experience, justifications wrapped around each act. ’ She deserves it ’, 'Make her suffer’ , ’ She’s your greatest foe ’, ’ She can’t stop you ’, all hissed over and over, every word made to sound so enticing. The urge to retch came over him, the old pew creaking against his weight as he stood to pace, his bad hand throbbing from its use in his hurry. 

His bad hand. That was the only thing the Darkness seemed concerned about besides the ever-present need for the shard, its few words on the subject curt and bitterly sharp. It had never seen a wound like this. The dagger was meant to control the Darkness, to bind it to a vessel full of vengeance. It could kill the vessel, transferring ownership to another as had been done in ancient times, but that required ceremony. His hand had gone from a dull uncomfortable twinge to throbbing sharp shooting spasms that caused his fingers to stiffen into a  claw like form. He kept his palm wrapped in gauze, alarmed to find the scrape, now a cut, leaving bloody stains. 

Arguing with the Darkness over this was no use. It was its own pain, its own form of torture on top of his penance for attacking Emma. That and the constant echo of Emma’s voice rang in his head like a church bell, sometimes louder than the cacophony that was the Darkness, other times only a gentle tone. If this was his punishment, it was his to suffer alone. The small abbey somewhere in the mountains was far enough to cover their tracks, changing locations to make it harder to use a location spell. It seemed fitting, too, to search for penance in this quiet, snow filled hall, the stained glass and belfry crumbled onto the rough floor. 

You can’t have your freedom without her absolute compliance. She’s not ready for a battle, not ready for the world. If you’re not willing to train her properly, the Goblin will - 

“Please, enough.” Thoughts of the Goblin Prince and what he might do, how close Killian had come to acting like the creatures who had taken Milah, swirled in another deep pull of his gut even as he paced in the cold cathedral. 

She was safe, and you should make sure she learns this lesson. We need her not completely broken, but close, so close, to gain our freedom. And shouldn’t the sheep know that the wolf is -  

“I said enough! Enough.”

Silence finally came, except for the gentle cadence of Emma’s words.

“You could just try to forego apologies, to try and get it right without having to break someone first." 

"What would you have had to apologize for if I hadn't…" 

Killian promised himself that he would never find out. Disappearing with a puff of smoke, he appeared miles outside of town, and began the long walk down the mountain to the shop. Even as the Darkness squirmed under his skin like electric eels, he focused on crafting an apology to Emma to vow that regardless of their dislike for each other, he would never violate her, couldn’t even lay a finger on her without permission due to the dagger’s magic. 

Every word seemed wrong, and by the time he arrived at the shop front to quietly slip back onto the patio, he realized that he was in a deep bloody mess of it. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma was well accustomed to avoidance. It was an important part of palace survival when everyone wanted you nearby for their vanity, prestige, or to mite out a point in a quarrel, or your least favorite tutor was trying to teach you your least favorite lessons. To think she’d give a king’s ransom just to see Regina’s cross face with her eyebrows almost pinched into one straight line again, to go back to when translation of ancient runes was her greatest worry…  

Someone avoiding her while she avoided them, though, that was new. This was new. Emma found it refreshing as she tried to spin the positives of working with a sociopath. He knew what he’d done, what he’d broken, almost as much punishment as the nightmares he introduced with his actions, or the thought of Nil’s threats made good creeping up on her without warning. Sleep no longer came between worries for those who she left behind to Nil and the Goblins’ wrath and those who she cared for here, further haunted by thoughts about who might be lurking nearby. Elsa or Anna found her asleep in strange places at strange times, Ingrid picking up on the tension immediately like some hunting hound, and all three of them tried to chase down the creature Emma feared. 

How could Emma ever tell them it was Killian? That her fear was how he might lose control because of the demon voice in his head; how he had looked at her and their struggle before he retreated, how he made her feel in the few seconds that he took away her own limited control? 

Elsa and Ingrid continued to push, and Anna watched quietly, observing until she asked Emma up to her room. It was almost dark, dusky colors painting the glimpse of the sea into a rainbow when Emma took Anna’s hand and helped both of them out of her window and onto the roof. Anna had brought a basket full of blankets, a thermos of hot chocolate, and chocolate covered orange peel for both of them, making Emma squint in suspicion. 

"Emma, my family… Well. It’s hard to be the less exceptional one in some ways. Ingrid, Elsa, my mother, and Olaf were all gifted with incredible talent, ice magic passed down through generations. My father had normal or average talent, and I followed after him,” Anna began, handing Emma the thermos cup, laden full of the steaming beverage. She held up a finger to indicate just a moment, sprinkling a small container of cinnamon over the drink. Emma smiled. 

“The thing about being ordinary, or I suppose I should say not extraordinary, is the difference in the sets of problems my sister and I faced, and as such, the way we see the world. Elsa is brave, she’s daring, and she’s far beyond outspoken. Ingrid is the same; they don’t see the purpose in not beating down doors to find what’s behind,” Anna said, nibbling on the orange peel. “For me, it was never that easy. I learned instead to watch, to wait, to listen and learn before rushing ahead to leap. I know that sometimes force is not the way to help." 

Emma tried to interject, but Anna shook her head, laying an arm around Emma’s shoulders. 

"Emma, anyone can see you’re trying to be strong, but I can see you’re hurting.” Emma flinched in her hold, and Anna gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything. You don’t have to say anything, or talk about specifics - you can vent, you can talk, I can talk, or you can ask for advice. I just don’t want you to feel alone, and I want you to feel free to tell me if something happened with no worry of anyone else knowing. I’ll listen, even if it’s just to silence.”

“Anna, I -” Emma began but couldn’t finish, instead crying onto her shoulder in a sudden onslaught of tears. Her hiccuping gasps left Emma feeling like her lungs didn’t work, but Anna was patient, only stroking her hair and soothing her, giving her soft paper handkerchiefs from a box in her basket. 

Emma heard a noise, both of them turning to see Killian pacing the patio, talking to himself as was usual in the evening hours. 

“Emma, I’m not going to pry, but I know that he did something awful to you. I know that he can be truly a terrible person, and that we sometimes protect him too much.” Anna looked from Killian to Emma, her lips a straight line in concern. “I will be damned, though, if he touched you, if he acted in any way less than a gentleman; I will gut him myself -" 

"He didn’t. Not really. We were sparring and he was suddenly so angry. It was like a switch went off, he just lost control. He scared me. He terrified me, because I thought he might do something, I thought he’d be like Nil. He stopped -”

“I’ll kill him myself if you like; he’s bound to never hurt any of us, that disgusting -" 

"No,” Emma started, reaching for Anna. “That’s just it. He stopped, and he looked just as terrified as me. I don’t think… I think he’s losing a battle too; I think that thing is grinding him down. I could almost hear it, and it’s a constant scream. It’s torture, Anna. I - I don’t think - I think whatever safeguard he has for you, Elsa, and Ingrid, is holding what’s in his head on a tether. I don’t think he was going to hurt me, but I think that thing inside of him wanted me to be afraid. It wants him to doubt himself, to keep him scared too.”

“It’s still not OK, Emma, he still -" 

"It’s not right, and I know that. However, nothing happened and I… This situation we’re in, he’s been alone with that thing in his head for a long time. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him struggle for control and win. I don’t think he would ever do anything to betray the last vestiges of humanity in himself.”

Anna mulled over Emma’s words, weighing them. “Elsa says there’s still good in him if you look for it, but I admit this only to you - that thing is definitely getting louder. I’ll think of something to keep you two away from each other for now.”

“Thanks, Anna,” Emma whispered, resting her head on her knees. 

They went to bed soon after, after Emma accepted Anna’s offer to train with her in the morning instead of Killian with great relief. With her mind focused elsewhere, Emma almost forgot about his existence as they spent the morning and afternoon practicing stances and blows, until Ingrid asked them to go drop off a package at the harbor. 

“No,” Killian said flatly, without looking at Emma. 

As Anna raised her palm and started to speak, Ingrid gave her a withering look that Anna returned with her own glare. “I’ll go, it’s not a big deal -" 

"You have chores to attend to, and are minding the shop. The princess has not seen our harbor, and needs a chaperone. Specifically, her chaperone, and the one that is charged with protecting her while she is in our care. Unless he has decided to forego protecting her, in which case I will personally make sure that he cannot step foot in this home again.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. To the harbor and back, maybe an hour or so. Let’s not make a fuss.”

Emma walked away to fetch her shoes before anyone could start up again. Waiting outside, she found herself entirely unconcerned with who would be joining her; regarding the sea up close and personal was an experience she needed to count as a win. The sea was a primordial part of what created magic, an element of nature that had long been fought over by many different species. Peace had been hard won for those in the ocean’s depths, and here it was again in danger. If this might be her last chance to see it before either the beginning of a war or her abominable marriage, she would not let anything stand in her way. 

Killian stalked out a few minutes later with nothing more than an affirmative nod at her. She followed in silence, his exasperated body language becoming more and more noticeable. He cleared his throat a few times as if he had something to say, only to end up more tense than before while furiously picking at his ear. Emma had finally had enough with the entire debacle after he practically ran into another woman while mulling his thoughts. The drop off itself was quick, but when she did not turn in the direction of home immediately, he began to press her. 

“We’re done here, aren’t we?”

“I have other things I’d like to do,” she replied firmly, with a slight shrug of dismissal. “Go back, or do something else if you like. It doesn’t matter." 

"No. If I show up without you, Ingrid will throw me out on the bloody streets! Do whatever it is on your own fucking time, princess, I’m not -” Killian’s voice grew louder, but Emma interrupted with a sigh. 

“Killian, I’d appreciate it if you could just…” Emma trailed off, her voice tired. “Just try and be a good person, a gentleman, just until I get to see the ocean, finally. I’ve already forgiven you, and I can’t have you ruin this for me too.”

Killian sputtered, his face turning from calm to angry in a flash, then almost just as quickly becoming impassive once more. It would have been amusing, if she had been willing to tolerate his behavior. He stayed quiet, unsettling so, as she took in the sea. The silence itself was surprisingly companionable, both of them sitting on the pier’s edge, the port bustling with brightly colored fishing boats. The sun dipped lower, finally settling into the sea and spreading out blankets of pinks on the horizon. 

“Thank you,” Emma whispered, and Killian grunted. Emma refused to turn to look at him, but let her words spill over into the darkening water. “We don’t have to like each other, but that - when we were sparring - that can’t happen again Killian. I need to trust you enough to know that you would never -" 

Killian made to start speaking and Emma waved her hand in an attempt to make him stop. 

"No. Listen. I am not saying that - I know that wasn’t your intention when this happened. You caught yourself, you didn’t - You didn’t let it push you into becoming someone you aren’t, even under all of… you didn’t let yourself. I just need the promise that you won’t let that thing take over you, that you won’t let it master you when you have control. That thing wants me destroyed.”

Killian swallowed hard, and took a moment before answering. “I don’t know if I can promise you that.”

“You need to. If we are going to be allies, you need to.” Emma sighed. 

“I found a potential ally for you. I can promise for now that I want to be free, and I will not find freedom within the Darkness.”

Beautiful lies. Let’s see how perceptive the princess is, hmm?  

“For now, that will have to do.” Emma sighed, and stood up, finally ready to return. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Being around humans was grating enough when Killian was not in a hurry, but being around humans while under a time crunch, especially ones that tried to flirt or were too nervous - it was hell. 

The styles of human fashion had changed markedly in the time that Ingrid had resettled with her nieces, allowing Emma several wardrobes to choose from in both past and present clothing. Ingrid was taller, but with a quick hem all of her clothing fit the princess well enough, and Elsa or Anna’s outfits fit her perfectly. 

Killian could find nothing that fit in what was left of Liam’s or Nemo’s clothing, and even if he could, breeches and a tufted tunic did not seem to be 'en vogue’. With a little research and a brilliantly orchestrated bribe of the women getting to dress Emma, he’d found a shop in the city that carried the newest trends in what this ruddy century considered clothes. They called it post-modernist, or mod - the contrast of black, white, and primary colors or prints more of a headache to Killian than cohesive. 

The saleswoman had been tinted red from the second she came to help him with his measurements, pulling out an animal print suit that he immediately refused, then another in an itchy fabric she called corduroy. After many attempts, he settled on a few garments, and hoped that Emma didn’t have nearly as much trouble with whatever Anna or Elsa cooked up. 

Killian heard her protests behind the door as he adjusted the neck of the damned clothing that this world had made popular. Anything called a 'turtleneck’ shouldn’t be a mainstream garment, but here he was wearing one in black, tucked into charcoal and blue checkered linen trousers with a matching 'sport’ coat. Plaid, was the word for it, the saleswoman had informed him of its pattern name, completely flustered by him when he walked out from the dressing room with it on in the shop; his hope that this would be inconspicuous was already in question.

Emma protested loudly again, and he heard Elsa and Anna laugh brightly while Ingrid made clucking sounds with her tongue. 

Stepping closer, Killian tried to separate their voices. 

“There’s nothing -” Emma stammered, her voice high and wavering. 

Elsa soothed back, voice dangerously sugary, her preferred way of convincing a customer to try a new dessert. “That’s the style. It’s Modernist, all the rage in the cities.”

“My legs! - and arms! No, no way Elsa, and these tall slippers are -" 

"Heels, Emma, they’re heels ,” Anna supplied. “You look amazing, and I mean it. In this realm, this is a deal maker and what the women wear out -" 

"There is nothing to this! I can’t possibly convince someone to ally with me wearing -" 

"Oh, you’d be surprised. I almost put you in my go-go boots before deciding on the heels. And it will get you inside, which is what matters. If you have to, you can find more clothing. Plus, Ingrid did some light enchantment work on your bag. Your sword is in there should you need it, and I put in some hair pins and lipstick,” Elsa said matter of factly. “Now then. Come on, let’s get one last look at you -" 

There was movement behind the door again, along with more protests, before the door swung wide open in front of Killian - much to his surprise and Emma’s shock to see him waiting. 

Emma stood at his height, or maybe just below, dark kohl lining her eyes and making them look like cut emeralds in their sharpness, contrasted with a soft pink color on her cheeks and lips. Her hair was pinned up loosely and messily gathered in the back, strands pulled loose over her shoulders and by her temples, the ends falling on the simply cut blue of the dress she wore. Strange slipper sandals with impractical straps climbed just above her ankles, the heel far too high for any sort of work, and she wobbled dangerously in unsteady excitement. A sharp 'V’ in the fabric neck of the blue dress let her collarbones brazenly peek out with the top of her breasts, no corset or undergarment evident, with a dropped waist that slightly flared out to end abruptly at her thighs, showing off long legs that seemed to never end. Her shoulders were bare as well, sun-kissed skin everywhere on display as she tried to pull the fabric down with one nervous hand. 

Focus! What is wrong with you?

The Darkness was ignored and unheard. Killian found himself unable to speak for a long moment as Emma’s cheeks reddened deeply, the flush spreading down her chest so quickly he could follow its path, making his mouth dry. 

"I can’t leave in this if he is going to make faces and mock me the whole time -” Emma began, growing even more flustered when the other three women burst into peals of laughter. “Please, there has to be a longer gown than this -" 

Killian cleared his throat, unsure if he would be able to speak without his voice cracking, leveling a glare at Elsa. "I agree. This - this won’t work. She needs to be able to move, to not stand out -" 

Mumbling something, a flash of magic caught Emma’s shoes with a silvery hue. "There. Stability charm.” Ingrid nodded. “High boots were all the rage in the Court for some time. This charm saved my neck before. You should be just fine now.”

“As for moving and standing out,” Elsa purred, holding Emma’s shoulders and giving Killian a salacious look of amusement, “the charm and her bag should be just fine for any trouble you may run into. She’d stand out if she didn’t wear something trendy, especially with it being such a warm spring. Or are you implying that Emma stands out for another reason?" 

The air crackled between them, the bait in Elsa’s questioning apparent to everyone but Emma, who looked perplexed.

"Killian, I don’t like it either. I can find something in their closet that is -” Emma began, reaching her hand towards him. He flinched away, Elsa giggling once more before Anna gave her a sharp pinch. Even the Darkness stayed quietly observant, as unsteady and unaware as Emma in this regard. 

Killian scrubbed a hand over his face furiously, giving them all a thin smile. “No, no, Elsa knows best about these things. Come on then, shall we? I don’t want her getting any more bright ideas .” Emma stepped around him, looking back confused as she stepped down the stairs to head outside, all of them giving her encouraging looks. When she was out of reach, Ingrid simply shrugged and excused herself, while Elsa grinned widely. Shaking her head, Anna watched bemusedly as Killian mouthed he was going to kill them, and Elsa mouthed back Good luck . 

Emma waited for him on the terrace, glowing softly in the star light, bag clutched tightly in hand. She bit her lip, anxiety written across her face. 

“We don’t have to do this, love. If you aren’t ready, that is. We can train longer, work our way up to this, or have them meet under other circumstances.” His whispered attempt at reassurance fell flat to his own ears, so it was no surprise when she shook her head. 

“I’m done waiting. I can’t wait any longer; every day that passes means it’s more likely that…” Emma looked down, taking a deep breath. “Let us be done with this.”

“Aye.” Offering his hand, she slipped her own palm against his and curled her fingers to rest interwoven with his. They took a step together and were gone. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma was unprepared for the combined smell of too many people, urine, and acrid smoke when they landed on the strange hard ground that made her teeth rattle at the impact. She gripped Killian tightly, resting her head against his chest as his jacket fluttered against her cheek in the wind and he let his arms hover inches away from her before lowering them to his side. 

“Princess?” he asked gruffly and she sighed, pulling away to steady herself on her own. 

Emma pressed a finger to her temple; there was another beat that came through the ground, far more unsteady as it rose up. The thumping noise made her feel off kilter. “Sorry,” she murmured, looking around. 

Across the street, lights swung back and forth, lighting in different colors and patterns to what Emma was now realizing was a beat. She stepped towards it and saw a line of people waiting near a single entrance, strange words swimming across a black panel of lights. People jostled her as she tried to get closer to read what the lights said, but it looked like they were in a different language. She looked for Killian to ask, but he was nowhere in sight. 

A blaring noise came from her left, two large lights approaching quickly, too fast for her to stop. What was this beast - 

Hands pulled her roughly back onto the crowded walkway, a pair of blue eyes under wildly curled blonde hair incredulously staring at her. 

“Are you trying to get killed, lady?” the other woman hissed. Emma blinked, staring at her. “Watch where you walk, okay? You’re going to get flattened by these asshole drivers if you don’t. Your boyfriend there should have warned you." 

Killian came into view, staring at both of them with annoyance. 

"Bloody hell, Emma, I looked up for two seconds and you were gone -" 

"And in the middle of the street, looking up,” the stranger pointed out. 

“And in the middle of the street looking up, at gods know what -" 

"Where I saved her from a car hitting her,” the stranger added again. 

“Where she saved you from - Bloody brilliant, you almost got hit by a motorized contraption. Taking you to the city was an awful idea, I should have - ugh. Because that’s just a bloody brilliant way of making mates -" 

"So this isn’t your boyfriend then. This is your father?” the strange woman questioned, and Emma felt her cheeks flush deeply, Killian looking at both of them in disgust. 

Emma tried to stammer out a few nos, but not before Killian supplied something suspiciously sounding like 'bugger all’. 

“If he’s some sort of sugar daddy, that’s fine too, no judgements. It’s the 60s babe, free love and love free, ya know? Just making sure he’s with you, should be watching a pretty lady like you -" 

"She’s nothing to me,” Killian stated harshly. Emma sucked in a breath, but the stranger only shrugged unperturbed. 

“Right then. I’m Alice. Since I saved your, er, nothing person here, if you happen to be heading into the Never, do you think I can get in with you? You both look very posh I must say.” Alice said, giving Emma a little spin. “M'own not 'nothing person’, we call them a girlfriend, is in there somewhere. I haven’t seen her in weeks, and she hasn’t been home or to the usual or unusual places. You catch my drift?" 

"Yes, we’ll get you in!” Emma replied, laughing lightly. 

At the same time, Killian issued a firm, “No." 

Alice sighed deeply. "I hate to beg, but I will. Please. Her stage name is Cheshire, but her real name is Robyn. I’m desperate." 

Emma looked at Killian, her eyes pleading. He shook his head, crossing his arms. "Absolutely not. You’ve already almost died out here; we’re getting in and out of here as quickly as possible without any more of your nonsense. Now come on.”

Pulling Emma’s arm roughly and walking across the street as the cars stopped one by one, Alice scrambled to follow. The line parted around them, leading to two large guards at the door with name tags on their bulky, overly large black suits: T. Dee one stated, the other T. Dum . Emma wondered how two different people could look so entirely like each other, and be so vastly but unnameably different. 

“We’re on the list,” Killian gritted through his teeth, the noise and heavy beats of the music making it difficult to hear. “KJ and E.”

Alice tugged on Emma’s bag gently, pointing out the marquee above, the black banner with its blinking lights. “It says in Greek, 'Θαύμα Ποτέ Νησί’. Never Worry Land. Never Wonder Land.”

Despite the heat of the evening, a chill ran up Emma’s spine. 

“Yep. Yer right here,” one of the men said, pulling aside a red velvet rope while the other opened a door for them. 

Squaring her shoulders, Emma spoke as firmly and loudly as she could. “She’s with us too,” nodding at Alice. The woman’s eyes went wide, and the guards at the door narrowed their squinting glares. Killian’s nails bit into her flesh until the two guards looked at each other and shrugged, letting them all enter. 

Past the entrance, Alice launched herself at Emma, laughing and crying at the same time. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, you beautiful woman. I - we, me and Bynni, we owe you.” She turned to Killian and stared at him, almost like she could see right through him. “We owe you too, so consider this: be nicer to her. Μπορεί ακόμα να σας σώσει." 

Killian bristled, letting go of Emma in contempt. The inside of the club was dark, but the bars and dance floor shone with bright and strange combinations of lights, sound, and color. Women writhed in cages that moved around the large dance floor, the size of which was comparable to a small ballroom. 

Elsa had been right about her attire. If anything, Emma was modestly dressed compared to the strips of fabric some of the women were wearing, hips and buttocks on complete display as they undulated. Killian motioned for her to listen, and she peeled her eyes away to regard his face. 

"No more bullshit, Emma. You have to listen now.” She nodded, and Killian seemed to relax more, staring at their surroundings. “I have to find our contact, Tink. She said she would be at the far end of the dance floor, so stay here. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Yes sir. No more disobedience.” Emma gave a mock salute and he bristled even more. 

“Just stay here, look pretty, and act nice. You know,” Killian smirked and let his anger volley in a faux sympathetic tone. “What you’re good at.” Emma looked as if she’d been struck, and he smiled a pitying grin, her glare following him. 

He made it a few steps away before returning, remembering his dire warning. “This is the most important thing, I almost forgot.” His voice was deadly serious in contrast to the smug sarcasm he had just displayed. “Do not drink or eat anything they give you. Not a morsel. Do you understand?" 

Emma nodded, and Killian raced off towards the dance floor. 

  The music of the club was overwhelming, thrumming through her body. She watched Killian disappear into the mass of people, heading towards a raised platform with large speakers on either side. A woman stood, raising her hand with a strange ear warming device on her head, a short green dress that was covered in glitter fitted to her like a second skin. 

Killian had instructed her to stay where she was, so she leaned against a tall chrome stool watching everything with interest. A man with a saccharine smile grinned at her from behind the counter, the walls behind him filled with various colored bottles of spirits. He seemed too young to be there, a child-like mischief behind his smile, but one marked with a strangely malicious intent. Emma shivered. She didn’t like the way the man’s eyes gleamed as he looked at her with that same look that pricked at a familiar uneasiness.

“Can I get you a drink, Miss?” he said, and his voice was like sweet cream. “On the house.” She didn’t see him make any movement, but a drink suddenly appeared in front of her. It smelled of vanilla, strawberries, honey, and sugared plums. Killian’s warning played over in her head.

Do not drink or eat anything they give you. 

A tag was on the bottom of the drink. Had that been there before? She pulled it between her fingers, almost upsetting the martini glass. A picture of two rabbits sitting on a flower bed while toasting drinks was etched on the yellowing paper, inky ornate cursive flowing along the bottom. Drink Me . Strangely, if she put the tag down, the image from afar looked like something else entirely but her brain could not place what. 

Emma put it down and went to move away when a gaggle of women pulled her to the dance floor. Emma was spun, twirled, and swallowed by the dancing crowd. The music had changed, moving through her body like a delicious current. Her dress suddenly made sense - everything was hot and slick, the scrap of a dress almost too much fabric on her skin now. In front of her, a pair of brown eyes met hers, and a woman ground against her, gyrating her hips into Emma’s to the beat of the music. Hands behind Emma grasped her hips, and another woman, a redhead with dull gray eyes stroked up and down her sides. Emma felt overcome, the movements overwhelming. Swaying slightly, she tried to press through the crowd and back to the bar, but could not move through the group that seemed to only knit tighter around her. 

The world twisted again, and a muscular, lean, dark skinned man grabbed her in a dip, hands low on her thigh as he brought her leg up in the air. Pulling her close again, they spun in an elaborate tango before he twirled her into a tanned blonde man that made a cat-like purring noise, the dancers around Emma moving closer and making movements that left her breathless. Martinis were being passed again, tags being thrown in the air and raining down on sweaty skin. A waiter with the same gleaming eyes as the man behind the counter smiled that same saccharine smile that belied something dark just below the surface.

“Try a drink, Miss.” He had the exact same voice as the other man, and she backed away. “Just a sip, they’re delicious.” 

Emma refused again, now pushing against the flow of the throng of writhing bodies. Another group of women pulled her into a grind, the pressure intense, their hands roaming free on her body. Everything felt deliciously good, and she forgot why she was so frightened before as soft, gloss covered lips kissed a trail down her neck. Behind her, two women touched trails down her sides with rough finger pads, one gently tugging her hair, the other alternating small nibbles on her ear lobe while running nails down her exposed shoulder. They were all whispering at once, and Emma’s mouth was so dry.

“Have a drink, try a sip. Drink it, it tastes amazing!” 

Emma’s knees went weak as it felt like thousands of hands were on her, stroking her in exquisite torture. Scratchy moans turned to whispers and breathless gasps of the same words.

“Have a drink.”

Pleasure coursed through her body as Emma rolled her body and spun to the music. Her head was blessedly empty, she had no worries, and what would one drink do? It couldn’t hurt; Killian wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy, so it very well could be she should drink it. 

Something in her mind wriggled, and she realized that her eyes were closed. She opened them to see Killian struggling to get to her, Alice with him looking horrified as he tried reaching out his hand and shouting words that she couldn’t hear over the music. 

The dagger around her neck glinted, reflecting the bright lights that littered the ceiling. Light hit a dancer, the redhead with the dull eyes, and to her growing terror, Emma saw that the woman was falling apart. A skeleton with dripping remnants of flesh jumped with the crowd and ground her hips with a decaying man. Bodies pushed hard against her as she tried to reach for Killian. She saw more of the waiters giving out drinks, the liquid sloshing in their glasses. The redhead threw back a martini after clinking it against the decaying man’s glass, and suddenly they were young again. Emma screamed but could not be heard over the din. 

Killian tried to grasp her outstretched hand, fingers barely touching her own, but several of the suited waiters were surrounding her. The man behind the counter held out a drink, and with the illusion broken, she could see the viscous, bile yellow drink in the glass, noting the sour smell it permeated the air with. Emma couldn’t hear anything but the music and the chanting of the men with their gleaming eyes, the same four words somehow superimposed over the music.

“Have a drink, Miss.” One of the waiters tilted her head back, another held her arms, a set anchored each leg, and one secured her jaw open. Killian tried to fight to reach her, but the crowd clawed at him from every angle. 

“Lost Boys! Leave her!”

The man behind the counter smiled as recognition dawned on Emma, her panicked noises swallowed by the song.

The yellow liquid poured down her throat, and as soon as the glass was empty she could hear the moans and screams of agony in the music’s shrill tones. Her body felt tired, leaden, and the room spun as she felt what could only be described as a thread being cut in her solar plexus. A force pushed her deep into her mind, swimming through darkness towards a small window of sight, watching her entire body move under someone else’s control. 

A low, oily, familiar, voice spoke from the depths of the darkness. “Emma? How amusing, it feels like ages since you and I last spoke!” It laughed, and through the window of what should have been her eyes, she watched erratic movement that must be dancing. She could now see the truth of what this place was, the glamour lost as some strange magic controlled her. “Well Emma, you’re mine now. A Lost Girl, one of Pann’s very own menagerie.”

A memory swam through her mind.

Granny had told her grandchild legends to scare her into bed at night. Granny would never deign to tell such tales in front of Emma, but Ruby on the other hand was happy to oblige. When they snuck out at night and drank honeyed wine on a secluded balcony, Ruby would try to scare her with the stories of the olden times. 

“So then Granny said,” Ruby hiccuped softly, “that the Fae that got banished, they used to make these circles.” She swayed, making a circle in the air with her finger. Emma was warm and felt herself swaying in the warm winds, looking out over the orchard below. “They made ‘em out of mushrooms, and if a human walked through one, BAM!” She clapped her hands together, and Emma jumped with a giggle. “Part of their collection. The magic would catch the human, and they’d dance forever - you’d see these Fae with humans following falling apart, cursed to dance until they were dust.” She wiggled her fingers for added emphasis, and Emma laughed along with her, imagining a skeleton trying to dance. 

Here in this otherworldly place, humans, creatures, and Fae came to dance under the lights, surrounded by walls painted in strange runes; they came like flies to a glittering spider’s web, eager to be trapped. Dancing without end in pure pleasure, extending their lives as their bodies rotted then renewed again. Forever lost, Lost Boys and Girls for eternity. 

Emma could still feel sensation, but as if through layers of thick wool. Something sticky and wet touched her as she spun, and she felt bony fingers grab her wrist. As if commanded, she looked out to see a skeletal figure gripping her, both of them swaying to the beat. It downed a passed martini glass, becoming a heart faced brunette with glazed eyes, her fingers once again soft on Emma’s wrist. She mumbled quietly, and Emma strained to hear what her own voice repeated back. 

"Have a drink. Have a drink. Just one. Have a drink.”

Pann’s laughter was all around, almost overpowering the sensation of Killian’s arms dragging her away and fighting to free her from the throng. Nails were sharp, blows against them both coming from all sides as Killian pulled her to a door, her purse tight against her, spilling hair pins that he picked up and bent with his mouth. Jamming the pin inside the door’s lock, it took a few wiggles before the door knob turned, the crowd pressing the door closed as Killian held her in the darkened stairwell that lay behind it. 

Emma willed her body to move, only to feel sharp zaps of electric fire race through her, making her shake from the exertion. The only thing she wanted was to go back to the crowd, to drink and dance, her mind fuzzy and warm like a favorite blanket. She couldn’t hear Killian’s frustrated yelling, or feel how he had to grip her shoulders; she only saw his eyes staring at hers in sharp focus as if she had woken from the deepest sleep. 

His hair was askew and his suit was ripped on the shoulder, the sleeve dangling slightly, but Emma could only fixate on the blood that dribbled from his lip. Another long rivulet trailed from his forehead and fell between his eyes. It was closer to the right side as he faced her, one of her trembling hands twitching up to smooth the lines of worry away - 

Emma fell back, her body convulsing violently with the same electrical shocks of pain she had felt before, closing her eyes in an attempt to keep the voice out of her head. 

“Now now, don’t make a fuss, Princess. You are such a prize, I’m so happy you could join my collection instead of someone else’s. The whole United Realms is looking for you! It seems that the Goblin prince is quite taken by your beauty.”

It was like nails on a chalkboard, someone screaming and clawing at her face while Pann laughed. Behind it, Emma felt her weight being pulled, a voice she begrudgingly trusted whispering not to panic.

“Let go. Let go, I’ve got you. Don’t fight it, just rest,” Killian repeated, dragging her body upwards.

Pann’s laugh quieted while Emma faded away, her eyes open and glassy, the world going golden for a brief moment, then dark. 

[queerhargreeves]

Finish Your Thought

Diego’s stutter resurfaces after the apocalypse. The siblings handle the situation better than he expected and they learn more than they thought they knew about their brother.

It doesn’t happen immediately. Diego, just like the rest of the family, needed a week or so to just sit on and process the events that just happened. They successfully avoided the end of the world. Five is back, but he’s not the same person they all remember and he never will be. Klaus went to war. Klaus is capable of so much more. Ben can be back in their lives. Vanya has powers, stronger than all of them. Allison may never speak again. Reginald lied to them all more than they ever could have believed. Eudora was dead. They were together again.

It was a lot to take in. That first week back together, the seven siblings were raw. They walked on eggshells around each other, not wanting to cause any more pain to one another. They had spent entirely too long doing that.

Diego woke up three weeks after the almost end of the world in his childhood room. He could hear the soft sounds of his siblings and mom making breakfast downstairs, the smell of bacon wafting its way up into his room. He smiled softly at the domesticity of it all,

“A family, huh?” Diego thought to himself, still unable to fully wrap his head around that concept. There had been so many years of radio silence between the six of them. So many years of pent up feelings and frustrations with one another and their respective situations. Sure, he’d seen Klaus a few times here and there, but the visits were never entirely pleasant. It was either an OD visit, which always ended in tears and unresolved issues, or running into him as he was too out of himself to even remember his own name let alone Diego’s. Yeah, they all still had a lot to unpack.

His stomach growling got himself out of his thoughts; his body is right, these conversations can happen another time. He quickly stretched and started his small morning routine attempting to keep some sort of normalcy in his life. He dropped down to the floor and did 50 push ups, 50 sit ups, and 100 crunches. He took pride in his body and strength, something he always had to work for harder than his siblings. Well, harder than Number One at least.

Once finished and feeling slightly flushed, he washed his face and teeth and threw on the first shirt he saw in his dresser. As he made his way downstairs, the current hot topic of conversation became more clear.

“Klaus we have been over this literally a thousand times. Donuts are both a breakfast food and dessert, not just exclusively breakfast. Nothing that sugary should be qualified as ‘just breakfast’. ” Ben emphasizes, a hint of annoyance in his tone but it’s mostly light, playful banter.

“Benny dear, I hear you, I really do. But why do cops get donuts for breakfast, huh? It’s not dessert breakfast, it’s a breakfast food!”

“Is this conversation entirely necessary this early.” Five deadpans.

“Discourse is always necessary, baby old bro! Oh, Diego!” Klaus waved at him from his seat on the table, literally on the table, with a grin on his face.

Diego waved back, beelining to the pot of coffee. He grabbed himself a plate of waffles and bacon, kissing his mom on the cheek as he did so.

“Children, breakfast is ready! Everyone go on and have a seat, I’ll serve you. I mean in a chair, Klaus. Diego here couldn’t wait another minute though.” Grace teased, winking at her son. He just blushed and sat down with his siblings, sandwiched between Ben and Allison. Ben didn’t need to eat, but he enjoyed spending the mornings with his family regardless.

Grace made her way and placed a plate of food in front of each of her kids, humming along as she did so. “There we are. If you children need anything else, I’ll be doing laundry.”

“Thanks mom!” Klaus called as she left the kitchen, his mouth half full of food.

They all ate in relative silence besides a few comments from Klaus about the food or the weather. Diego was appreciative for the useless banter, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. After everything, Klaus was still Klaus.

“Could you p-pass the syrup V-v-van” Diego cut himself off, mortified. Six heads whipped around to stare at their brother, their faces littered with different degrees of concern. Their brother hadn’t spoken all morning, but that wasn't too unusual. He wasn’t a morning person. This, however, was concerning.

“Hey, hey no it’s okay. Finish your thought, Diego.” Klaus spoke up softly, his tone missing it’s usual sarcasm. Diego clenched his jaw, that statement all too familiar.

A lot of the times his siblings would try to finish the sentence for Diego when he would struggle to vocalize his thoughts properly. Usually Luther, out of annoyance. But Klaus was always the first one to shut his siblings up, insisting they give Diego the agency to finish his own thought. Diego was always grateful for Klaus for that, for never judging him. For being there.

“I d-don’t know w-w-w-why,” Diego let out a frustrated groan, slamming his knife (well, the knife from Grace’s kitchen set) in the table. Allison softly grabbed his wrist, trying to get his fist to uncurl so tightly around the utensil. He met his sisters eyes, filled with nothing but kind, non judgemental compassion.

“It’s okay.” She mouthed, rubbing circles on top of his hand. She never understood what not having control over your voice felt like. It was a privilege, something she always dismissed when they were kids. She felt horrible about how easily she was to pass judgement 15 years ago.

“Diego,” Five started gently, talking almost as if was approaching a feral animal. To be fair, Diego’s temper sometimes made him act like one. “If I may, I believe this may be a residual side effect of the last couple of weeks. Your stutter only comes out now under a heavy amount of distress, correct?”

Diego nodded, his shoulders still hunched. They all noted how he was continuing to curl in on himself, almost fearing the reaction of his siblings. God, had they really been that cruel before?

“Well, all things considered, I’d definitely count the events we’ve experienced as very distressing. Your disability is not your fault, Diego. I had a lot of time to read in the apocalypse. Being alone permits you a lot of free time, you know?” Five looked down, tugging at the end of his sleeve with his hand. He hadn’t talk about what he experienced during the apocalypse much, this vulnerability rare.

“I found a book on speech disorders in the library. It was one of the only ones that survived. I um,” He cleared his throat, “I learned a lot about speech impediments and the underlying neurological causes. It certainly opened my eyes.”

“Why don’t we wait it out and play it by ear,” Five continued, waving his hand in the air. “If it persists, we can help you work on it if you so wish to choose.”

Before Diego could respond, Luther spoke up.

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes I did the first time, Diego. Dad always said that you were lazy, not trying hard enough.” He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable showing this amount of emotion, “But Dad has been wrong about a lot of things. And that was one of them.”

Diego’s mouth gaped open, his brows furrowed in confusion. Luther, the oh so obedient soldier, admitted he was wrong. And that Reginald was wrong. To his face, in front of everyone. This was certainly a new development for their family.

“I appreciate th-that, Luther and F-f-f-” He found himself once again cutting the sentence off, hoping they got the idea. Diego couldn’t help but feel ashamed of his impediment, even after hearing his brothers talk so candidly. Call it years of trauma from Reginald, drilling the thought of his stutter being his fault into his head. He’d been beaten, belittled, and mocked tirelessly for it as a child. Anytime he stumbled over his words, whether it was in front of Eudora or his family, he couldn’t help but feel that stomach dropping anxiety that lingered from his childhood.

“Diego, please. It’s okay. Go on, finish your thought.” Vanya said gently, insisting her brother he was safe to speak.

“Reginald l-l-locked me in the t-t-tank for seven h-hours once a-after I st-stuttered during an interview.” He chuckled lightly, his grip on Allison’s hand tightening ever so slightly, “E-everytime h-he heard me, I’d g-g-get sh-shit for it, you know? S-slapped, w-whipped, mocked. It’s f-fucked.”

The sibling were silent, sitting appalled in their seats as their brother’s story unfolded before them. They knew Reggie wasn’t a fan of his speech, but they didn’t realize he went to such extreme lengths to punish Diego.

“Speech th-therapy h-h-helped. It still should, I know all th-the tr-tricks. M-my trigger l-letters.” He felt himself getting more frustrated as he went on, “I d-don’t know w-w-why they’re not w-working.”

“Hey, we’ll help you figure it out, okay?” Ben reached across the table and pat his hand that was intertwined in Allison’s, relishing in the fact that he could physically comfort his siblings again.

“We have to help Vanya reign in her powers, help Klaus explore his. Helping you with your speech is literally the least of our worries.” Five quipped, his dimple prominent with that shit eating grin on his face.

“My dear Van-Van and I will be the biggest hurdle, my good brother.” Klaus said with pride, clapping triumphantly at his chest. The rest of the family burst into laughter.

“You mean you will be, Klaus.” Ben jested, causing an offended squeal and a blueberry to the face from the dramatic man.

“You wound me! Did I ever tell you guys about the time Benny here convinced me to wax my ass with chocolate pudding? Because let me tell you, it hurt like hell!”

Diego felt himself relax as the topic of conversation shifted to something more light, thankful again for his eccentric brother. He was feeling a lot lighter himself compared to the start of breakfast. He kept having to remind himself that the Hargreeves are not the same people they were a few weeks ago, and thank god for it. He loved his family and they loved him. Things were starting to be okay.

[someguy1023]

Nobody’s gonna care about this, but maybe someone will

i think it’ll help convey why im so stuck on this, and why i seem to be focusing more on Holly and, according to messages i kept getting, “white knighting” for her. I’m not gonna justify Holly’s behavior. thats not what this is about. I just want this off my chest.

(im gonna regret this)

also, just to preemptively defend myself, i know how cheesy all this is gonna sound. But its the truth.

so. i guess i should preface this by explaining when I first heard about Holly. Maybe it’ll help this make sense in context. Maybe not. I don’t know but it doesnt hurt to try.

I didn’t actually learn about Holly through the internet like i assume most others did. I actually first found her through TV. More specifically, through that Heroes of Cosplay show SciFi has produced a few years back. I enjoyed it, but found myself mainly enjoying the work Holly and Jessica did while on the show. They were my favorite team, and I always tried to watch whenever they were in an episode. After a while though, I, like a lot of others apparently, got bored and moved on, and eventually forgot about Holly.

It was a few years later that I would find her again. This time, like many others, through Grumps. More specifically, through Ross and Steam Train. I was surprised when it turns out that one of my favorite members of GG was also married to one of my favorite people on HoC. Small world. I stayed a more casual fan, watching the occasional playthrough or crafting episode on her channel. I was more of a fan of GG and Ross, so I tended to watch more of his stuff than hers, but I still made sure to keep watching her stuff. It wasn’t anything major, she just made me smile.

A few years later, it meant something more to me.

In 2016, my father died. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a big deal for something like this. It was everything leading up to his death that was the problem. I always had a very “problematic” relationship with my father. He was abusive towards me when I was younger, lashing out at me for really minor problems. (for example, one time he had lifted me up in the air by my throat and began strangling me when I was ~6. Why? Because I had used some money our neighbor gave me for cleaning up his lawn to buy a popsicle from an ice cream truck, ate half of it, then put the other half in the fridge. He found it, got mad at me, and then began to yell at me. I had a nervous tic when I was younger where I giggled uncontrollably when I was scared. Sure enough, I began to giggle and could stop it, and then he, enraged, lifted me up. I realize years later he was probably drunk, considering he smelled really weird. It isnt a good memory.) He eventually left my mom and I when I was almost 7, moving down to Alabama with this lady he met in a bar, and proceeded to do pretty much every major drug imaginable. I didn’t see/hear from him again until a few years later at his mother’s funeral. He seemed remorseful for what he did to me, and a year or two later, moved in with his cousin back in the state I was living in at the time. I began visiting him when I was 13, and he seemed to be better. He apologized to me for what he did, he tried to be a good dad, and I believed him. That was my first mistake.

Flash forward to January 3rd, 2016. I was visiting him for the weekend after staying at my cousin’s, and was sorting through my things to make sure i didnt forget anything. We had visited one of his friends to get something he borrowed (according to him) then got back to his house. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and I thought he fell asleep. I noticed he had a cigarette in his mouth he was going to light before he passed out, so I went over to put it aside. I figured out he wasn’t sleeping. It turns out, he was overdosing, and what I thought was snoring was his throat closed shut and the air escaping his lungs. He was dying. I told his wife (at the time) what what happening, she called 911, and I went upstairs to hide in my bedroom. A lil while later, the ambulance came by, and the paramedics gave him whatever that stuff is they give addicts who OD. (At the time, I didnt know what was going on. He had really bad lungs, and I thought they were shutting down or something. I was told it was from him overdosing later that night.) He woke up, and they drove him to the hospital to make sure he was okay. I went back to my moms house, and stayed there. That was the last time I saw him alive

As it turns out, my dad had been using me for over 2 or 3 years. He was not only stealing money from me under the pretense of helping him with driving for over an hour to pick up/drop me off from my moms place to visit, but had also been heavily manipulating me for years in order to control me. He had tried to turn me against my mother and her side of the family, claiming she had used me to verbally abuse and control him when they were married, telling me lies in order to keep me under his thumb. (like how she threatened to abort me if he didnt marry her after knocking her up, or how she had him steal from his sister during her wedding, etc.) I began to despise my mother, arguing with her constantly, and, on his insistence, never told her anything about what he was doing or what he told me. It wasnt until after that day that I learned it was all lies.

I was devastated. I felt hurt, used, and betrayed. (I realize now...its because I actually was.) I was a wreck. It didnt help that 4 months later...he died. Needless to say, it was a very, very tough grieving period. I locked myself away in my room, unable to summon the energy to even get up in the morning. I had suffered from mild depression prior to this, but it was much worse. I couldn’t find a way to get through this, suffering for months, and eventually, began to think about suicide.

Thats where Holly came back in.

Besided the playthroughs helping cheer me up a lil whenever I put them on, it was her advice that really began my path to healing. Her kind words and support to others began to help me sort through the baggage I had been dealing with about my dad. I began to follow her advice on how to deal with my depression, and began to slowly ull myself back from the edge, and, over time, began to pull myself back up. Eventually, with her help, I began to attend regular therapy sessions, and managed to fully come to terms with what my father had done to me, as well as properly manage both my depression and anxiety problems. I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for Holly. She helped keep me going when I really needed it. She, for lack of a better expression, helped save my life. I’ll always be grateful to her for that...despite all of this. Ever since then, whenever I felt my depression weighing me down, or felt my anxiety creep back up on me, I could rely on her to help keep me grounded.

When all this happened, I couldnt help but notice I felt the same way as I did all those years ago. Despite the fact that its just some random lady on the internet, and shouldnt have mattered as much as it did...it still hurt on a personal level. The worst part of this whole thing? I can’t go back to the thing that helped me out whenever I felt this way. Not without being reminded everywhere I go of how everyone thinks of her.

So...maybe thats why I’m doing all this. Not just to stop people from spreading hate and rumors based on speculation...but because part of me cant/doesnt want to believe one of the people I relied on and put trust in could be the bad guy. Because part of me just refuses to let go or lose someone who meant so much to me. Because part of me wants to believe that things will get better...even if I know they wont.

If you read through this, thank you. Maybe someone out there feels the same way I do. Maybe, if they dont, someone can understand. Its been a rough month for me. I just hope things will look up somehow. I dont know if I’m gonna come back to this. Im realizing it probably isnt healthy. The only thing I have left to say, then, if I dont come back; please, try to spread good. I know this is the internet, and even worse, tumblr...but i think people need some light nowadays. and constantly spreading hate and cruelty...that wont help anyone. I know nothing i say matters, that nothing i’ve done has changed any minds. but even if you cant trust Holly anymore, or dont believe anything she says...at least believe in one of her beliefs. That kindness is the greatest thing to spread to others, and the world can sure use a lot more of it.

Good night.

[quackspot]

imagine someone just going 1-200 and you have to answer 200 questions for a stranger

well u better strap up becuase im about to do it

200: My crush’s name is: i dunno who do u think my crush’s name is199: I was born in: a year which is 2004198: I am really: a homo sapien197: My cellphone company is:  i think its samsung196: My eye color is: brown195: My shoe size is: 9 or 9.5 i think just 9194: My ring size is: WAIT RINGS HAD SIZES????? i dunno193: My height is: 5′4 ISH but i just say 5′4 because im actually really sensitive about my height and the less than an inch that brings me to 5′4 makes me somewhat happier with myself192: I am allergic to: maybe dustmites 191: My 1st car was: not yet190: My 1st job was: NOT YET189: Last book you read: technically a book called Dad Jokes theyre really funny jokes but if you mean story with plot then probably Grand & Humble unless if you include everything then yesterday i peeked in some books188: My bed is: a bed which i sleep in and that’s pretty much it actually i havent really made my bed in a while 187: My pet: jax and nibsy r the family pets jax is a shih-poo shihtzu poodle mix and nibsy is a cat186: My best friend: my brother185: My favorite shampoo is: shampoo184: Xbox or ps3: hard choice there’s xbox overall and little big planet this is actually a very hard choice lksiiro3jedsklmf,gsda little big planet is great........................183: Piggy banks are: piggy banks. theyre great182: In my pockets: I DONT HAVE POCKETS IM A WOMAN181: On my calendar: whats a calendar lol!!!!180: Marriage is: marriage 179: Spongebob can: dodod od odo dodooo178: My mom: IS GREAT i lov her shes a good mom177: The last three songs I bought were? i dont buy songs i listen to them176: Last YouTube video watched: i mean im listening to boyfriend big time rush on youtube right now but if you mean actual watching its snufkin saying “hi moomin” to moomin a quick 6 second clip175: How many cousins do you have? i duno174: Do you have any siblings? yeah173: Are your parents divorced? yeah172: Are you taller than your mom? probably not :(171: Do you play an instrument? i play the trumpet i did it today and it was really boring i dont want to go to any more graduations not even my own170: What did you do yesterday? things[ I Believe In ]169: Love at first sight: not really but somewhat and i like it because its a fun little thing to put in fiction 168: Luck: yea im very lucky167: Fate: its my destiny to die someday . . .. .  in the futuuuuuuuuuuure

166: Yourself: as far as im aware no165: Aliens: yeah probably164: Heaven: i know it probably isnt real but i cant help believing163: Hell:i know it probably isnt real but i cant help believing162: God: only to blame them for stuff161: Horoscopes: yea theyre fun to read160: Soul mates: ehehehehehhe fun in fanfiction and would greatly b ok with it irl159: Ghosts: who else would hold my hand at night...... not even a ghost :) (but yea i do believe in them when i grow up i wana be a ghost)158: Gay Marriage: why wouldnt i believe in gay marriage 157: War: what is it good for156: Orbs: borb155: Magic: i like magic so i will believe in it [ This or That ]154: Hugs or Kisses: yes153: Drunk or High: probably high i guess152: Phone or Online: ONLINE151: Red heads or Black haired: black haired 150: Blondes or Brunettes: BRUNETTES dude blondes r ok but i personally like darker hair149: Hot or cold: hot148: Summer or winter: SUMMER I HATE WINTER SO FUCKIGNT OASJKU*($@IRWJKOSDIUOKLJEZUDIFLK:LDSK:LKF:LJIODSKZVDJFKL mostly becuase i hate being cold and i hate snow becuase i have to shovel snow and its so cold147: Autumn or Spring: either one 146: Chocolate or vanilla: choc o late145: Night or Day: night144: Oranges or Apples: apples143: Curly or Straight hair: curly but i guess straight is ok142: McDonalds or Burger King: burbger king good milkshakese141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: idk uhh milk chocolate140: Mac or PC: pc139: Flip flops or high heals: neither......138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: ugly and rich i can just buy surgeries to make me prettier lmao137: Coke or Pepsi: coke136: Hillary or Obama: i dont wanna answer this :(((((( i dont like being bullied135: Burried or cremated: cremated babye put me in the flames ;3c134: Singing or Dancing: i like singing i like dancing i like trains 133: Coach or Chanel: what132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who are these people131: Small town or Big city: im just a mere small town babye ;3c big cities sound scary 130: Wal-Mart or Target: target has the good cheeseballs129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: i only know adam sandler128: Manicure or Pedicure: i dont do my nails 127: East Coast or West Coast: uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh both are coasts126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday i get more gifts then uwu125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate124: Disney or Six Flags: disney because idk what six flags is isnt it a restaurant or something123: Yankees or Red Sox: a baseball bat [ Here’s What I Think About ]122: War: what is it good for!121: George Bush: idk 120: Gay Marriage: yeah gay rights119: The presidential election: im not that into politics so i dont understand the elections and i dont think their fair since i get all my facts from adam ruins everything this isnt even a joke118: Abortion: pro choice i dont giv a crap about some lifeless baby. its only alive if it can properly move its arms or cry or feel.117: MySpace: haha dead116: Reality TV: idk 115: Parents: theyre parents 114: Back stabbers: ow my back113: Ebay: website.... money112: Facebook: lizard man111: Work: what110: My Neighbors: idk who they are but my old neighbor was one of my best friends i should talk to him this summer109: Gas Prices: probably too high108: Designer Clothes: clothes107: College: something i dont plan on going to any time soon106: Sports: something i dont plan on doing any time soon105: My family: a family104: The future: spooky. very scary. idk what my job will be[ Last time I ]103: Hugged someone: idk (update it was today)102: Last time you ate: 4:13 ish i made ramne101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: i duno100: Cried in front of someone: today i suppose i almost cried???? maybe my dentist appointment a few weeks ago??99: Went to a movie theater: lego movie 2 i think98: Took a vacation: 6th grade im in 9th grade now its been like 3 years97: Swam in a pool: over 1 year i dont go to the pool anymore96: Changed a diaper: NEVER AND I NEVER PLAN ON IT95: Got my nails done: i duno94: Went to a wedding: i also dunno its been too long93: Broke a bone: not that i can recal92: Got a peircing: never and never will91: Broke the law: i duno90: Texted: just now i told my mommy to pick me up it wasl ike 1 hour ago[ MISC ]89: Who makes you laugh the most: me88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my momy and nibsy and jax and probably zach but he’d already move out by the time i leave87: The last movie I saw: i dont remember probably lego movie 2 or osmething on tv86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: next year drama club85: The thing im not looking forward to: dying?????? idk man 84: People call me: moto moto (not really idk what they call me)83: The most difficult thing to do is: the most difficult thing82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: never though i probs will someday81: My zodiac sign is: aquarius sun leo moon aries rising80: The first person i talked to today was: probably kiley79: First time you had a crush: kindergarten i think78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: myself77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: idk76: Right now I am talking to: nobody 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: *has a crisis over my future plans as i do not know*74: I have/will get a job: im gona work at target or burger king next year maybe it depends on if they like me73: Tomorrow: 5/20..............72: Today: today71: Next Summer: in a theater near u70: Next Weekend: my first summer weekend 69: I have these pets: I ALREAD YSAID WHAT PETS I HAVE I LOVE NIBSY WITH ALL MY HEART and jax with some extra parts of my heart68: The worst sound in the world: a sound67: The person that makes me cry the most is: me66: People that make you happy: me65: Last time I cried: ealier today64: My friends are: online63: My computer is: on62: My School: is a school61: My Car: nonexistent 60: I lose all respect for people who: are really mean and seem to hate people for being happy. people who make jokes that make me uncomfortable. i generally avoid them.59: The movie I cried at was: all of them58: Your hair color is: brown57: TV shows you watch: idk56: Favorite web site: idk probs youtube55: Your dream vacation: nowhere 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: A FEW WEEKS AGO I GOT STITCHES IN MY MOUTH AND IT REALLY HURT UGHGTUERIJOKFLDc53: How do you like your steak cooked: edible52: My room is: a room51: My favorite celebrity is: myslef..... just kidding idk any celebs 50: Where would you like to be: where i am 49: Do you want children: no 48: Ever been in love: hoo ha hoo ha i duno how love feels exactly47: Who’s your best friend: MY BROTHER46: More guy friends or girl friends: guys i think 99% of my friends are my brothers friends so45: One thing that makes you feel great is: being happy44: One person that you wish you could see right now: nobody right now but sometimes kiley43: Do you have a 5 year plan: 5 years??? haha no i only plan on using savings accounts to make a bit more money and MAYBE moving to kiley but idk for sure since i like my parents and my brother and my parents plan on driving around in an rv but idk man moving to another state would be HARD and im kinda lazy and i’d have to get a whole new driver’s license 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: no41: Have you pre-named your children: lmao all my ideas are jokes40: Last person I got mad at: probably myslef39: I would like to move to: my bed???????38: I wish I was a professional: personer. talker. socialer. [ My Favorites ]37: Candy: probably snickers or a salted nut roll36: Vehicle: big car. tahoe shape. tahoe size. idk. something like a tahoe thats my only reference35: President: I Don’t Care34: State visited: probably florida its the only one of 3 states i’ve been to33: Cellphone provider: what32: Athlete: WHAT31: Actor: idk 30: Actress: idk29: Singer: not me? me? idk28: Band: taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally hall??? ? ?? ? ?? ? ? ? I DONT KNOWIJ DSKJZLFKSJKLDSHDLfjklskl;fdkl;sfk;laf 27: Clothing store: i legit have like no faves god this is the hardest part26: Grocery store: target probably25: TV show: maybe the simpsons???24: Movie: idk ive seen a lot of movies23: Website: one of them22: Animal: one of them21: Theme park: universal studios20: Holiday: none of them theyre all ok but ??? meh19: Sport to watch: none.18: Sport to play: idk i dont like being competitive but??????? gym class is a fun sport! :)17: Magazine: none of them16: Book: one of them15: Day of the week: wednesday sounds like a good day. maybe sundays. 14: Beach: what13: Concert attended: frankly the only concerts i’ve been to are my own12: Thing to cook: probably ramen11: Food: cheeseballs??????? burger king milkshake, a drink?10: Restaurant: buuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrger kiiiiiiiiiiing?9: Radio station: 101.9 kelo eff emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm8: Yankee candle scent: what7: Perfume: what6: Flower: what5: Color: red or purple4: Talk show host: wha

3: Comedian: i duno2: Dog breed: one of them1: Did you answer all these truthfully?  yeah i tried but i kinda gave up slightly after i came back from a graduation party though i also kind of gave up from the start so

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #175

“imagine living like a king someday, a single night without a ghost in the walls.”

Have you ever had a teacher hit on you? Not to my recollection. Have you ever seen your ex’s new partner? If so, what do you think of them? I don't know or care if he currently has one. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months? Done it twice now, it's not difficult if you're picky and serious with who you date. Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? Well my mom was somewhat aware of things that were happening. What was the last piece of candy you ate? Good question. I got my tongue re-pierced because of a bar length issue with swelling, and now this one is just shy of long enough to disable me from biting down entirely (they're snake eyes, so across the tip). I'm only just getting back into eating soft things very slowly unless I want pain, so candy's a no. I have to wait no less than three weeks to get a correctly-sized bar, and it's only been just over one aaaahhh. Have you ever been dared to do something you totally regretted? No. Is your room painted or wallpapered? Painted. What is the best kind of pizza in your opinion? I'm an American I stan them meat lovers. Is there something that someone has done to you that you cannot forgive? No. Well actually idk, I still don't know for *sure* if I forgive him. Like I'm completely over it and it no longer affects me, but I could never ever ever ever look at him even remotely the same or even consider trusting him. I don't think that's supposed to happen when you forgive someone. Have you ever broken a plate/bowl? Accidentally by dropping. What is your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? I don't think so. Do you know anyone who has a homosexual parent? No. What type of music could this world live without? Pure screamo (no, not as a carpet term for metal). Are any of your pets “overweight”? No. Who’s the last person you cried over? Does myself count? Did the house you grew up in have a fence? Yeah, but not all around. What’s your YouTube channel name? 0zzkat. Who of your FB friends has the cutest toddler(s)? Uhhhh idk. Anastasia's baby girl is pretty cute, I guess. Did you decorate pumpkins this year? No. :/ They were totally gone the day we were gonna get one (the day before Halloween so no, we weren't that surprised lmao). What’s the craziest color you’d dye your hair? More like what color WOULDN'T I dye it? What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again? Shadow of the Colossus. I've beaten it around 30 times. Would be more if I didn't lose the disc, buuut it's actually coming in the mail now! What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Don't show me that fucking Linkin Park "crawling in my crawl" worm video. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name? None come to mind. What’s your dearest souvenir? *shrugs* What was the last strong scent you smelled? Probably coffee bc of Mom. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? If so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? Long instance + same-sex simultaneously. Distance is fucking hard when you really want each other's company, especially for emotional support. Being same-sex makes me nervous due to potential violent homophobics, especiiiiaaaally living where I do. I do it regardless, but even just holding hands leaves me worrying some asshole is going to cause a problem. I know my sister's husband isn't at all fond of it either and I'm 99% sure he's why Sara's never met the kids. But anyway, all those things are absolutely worth it. Would you ever consider something like a poly relationship, assuming everyone involved was alright with it? What are some things you think you would or wouldn’t like about it? Absolutely not, because I strictly believe in the exclusiveness of love. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? Colleen, probably. We are just about the antitheses of each other, yet we were "best friends." We disagreed too frequently, she was drama-ravenous, we kept leaving and coming back, etc. No, we don't talk now, and I refuse to ever do so again as friends. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? No. I absolutely do not believe in "making amends" with your abuser. Keep them the fuck out of your life. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? Toxic... you mean Colleen? Did it too many times, and no, she didn't. Do you feel like your age matches your emotional development? If not, what age level or maturity level do you feel best represents where you’re at? Part of me says no, another says yes. I guess it depends on the subject. What is one thing about your personality that embarrasses you, but you can’t seem to change it no matter how hard you try? Have other people called you out on this embarrassing thing? Being socially awkward as all hell, and yes. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? I was playing Spyro just earlier today lmao. In almost all cases, no. I do believe that something like a full-grown adult playing pretend with dolls or something may be questionable, but even then there's not a real reason I can give you. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? Something PTSD-related, but I can't remember exactly what it was, I guess because I got past it pretty quickly. There are certain songs I should avoid, I canNOT look at the medicine I ODed on, I don't like seeing or being near large knives at all... If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? All of them, yeah. What is a complaint you have about the mental health industry or about the type of treatment you’ve received from a mental health service? Have you ever had any particularly bad therapy experiences? I feel that too many people working in the field care far more about the pay than the people. I can't guarantee a professional truly cared about what I was dealing with until Holly Hill. I've had one particularly horrible psychiatrist that threw diagnoses and pills around like they were nothing (the most ridiculous being ADHD, which I in no way exhibited), and a long-time therapist I had was pretty bad, something I realized only after I started with my current one. She was strict about that "you've got an hour, you're staying an hour, you're leaving no later" shit, and we always ran out of things to talk about so I'd just be sitting there super uncomfortably and numerous times start crying because I felt so awkward, and she'd just take it as a sign that I wasn't telling her something. She drove "and how does that make you feel" and "what're you thinking of" into the goddamn ground. Yeesh, having been a mental health patient for so long, I could really write a novel here. When was the last time you realized you might be the source of a problem and NOT someone else? Hm, idk. I'm so uninvolved with others that that's a hard question to answer. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? HAVING THE BOTTOMS OF YOUR PANTS GET WET. I hate chapped lips, too. Do you prefer vertical or horizontal stripes? Horizontal. Have you ever ridden a motorcycle? No. Are you ticklish? YEAH. Have you ever tried to make your own alcohol? No. If you were to join one of the armed forces, which would it be? I wouldn’t. Have you ever been in a submarine? No. Have you ever been in a hot tub or sauna? Only hot tubs. Do you believe there used to be dragons? No. What was your first alcoholic drink? A Mike's hard lemonade. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? Idk, I was a baby. What was your first detention for? Too many tardies. Did you ever have a treehouse as a kid? No. Have you ever been on radio? No. How long has your longest ever phone call been? A few hours. What is a meal you eat extremely often? Or do your meals & food choices vary a lot? Ummm I guess some kind of chicken is common? When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? Idk. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? Uhhhh how am I blanking, I change my mind on things every five minutes. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? Sara's both my girlfriend but also the only "friend" I ever hang with now even tho we live several states apart lmao. I was there two weeks, so we did an array of stuff. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else’s dreams? Hell, I barely ever remember my dreams. Jason still shows up maybe ehhhh around or maybe less than once a month, and I have no clue why other than maybe there's some PTSD effects I don't actually detect or something? It's not like I think about him much, so I really don't see why he shows up, but the theme is constant: awkwardness seeing each other again, and he sometimes tries to get back with me (thank FUCKING GOD even in my dreams, I don't). Sara's in some dreams that I remember. Mom, maybe. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? Nothing. What is something you do to feel better when you’re scared? I'll usually turn to YouTube for a distraction. Who do you feel you can count on the most in life? Is there anyone you wish you could count on more? Mom. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? Probably Bite Me by idr-who. I actually don't remember. What was the last thing you broke? How about fixed? Another sensor came off the keyboard. :') I dunno about fixed. Is there a sign or symbol that means a lot to you for whatever reason (eg. seeing certain animals or birds, 11:11 or other repeating numbers, syncs, butterflies, hearts in nature, etc)? Butterflies and semicolons. Hence my semicolon butterfly tattoo. Do you have any personal ghost stories or paranormal experiences? Yeah. What do you get complimented on the most? My hair. What is something unusual that you find attractive? why does?????? everyone hate fedoras tbh?????????? What time do you tend to eat your first meal of the day? And your last? BOY this varies so much like fuck. Sometimes I don't eat breakfast at all, sometimes I do right when I get outta bed. Dinner can be at like almost 10:00 with Mom's schedule, or I may have it like five hours earlier. What was the subject of the last video you watched? I'm getting into a horror LPer and I'm binging her Silent Hill playthroughs. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? I like pink but bloody guts and brains are cool 2. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? N/A What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Play video/computer games. Have you ever been close to drowning? No. Do you watch any Japanese anime? Not currently, but I've kinda had the urge to pick an interesting one up? Do you have someone who is protective of you (father, brother, etc.)? Mom and Sara above anyone else. Where was the last place you went, that you hadn’t been to before? Uhhhhh good question. I don't exactly go to new places often. Do you have any bad habits you aren’t working on changing? If so, do you ever think you’ll try to break them? I don't believe so off the top of my head? Then again I think everyone has little bad habits they don't try to improve upon, but I can't think of anything serious. When was the last time someone surprised you with their reaction or behaviors? I'm sure something with Mom, but idk what. Are you good at committing to things like Nanowrimo or Inktober? Nope. What is your preferred method of expressing yourself? Writing. Or drawing if I'm in the mood. Have you ever reached out to a crisis center for mental health support? If so, how was the experience? I tried to reach the suicide hotline via their online one-on-one chatroom because I was too afraid to actually call, but I ended up waiting I think 45 minutes before the OD happened. When was the last time you did something you were afraid to do, and how was the outcome? I drove at night and ordered food at a drive-thru myself. It went well. What is one positive thing you believe about yourself? I have a strong sense of right and wrong. What is something you have been through that has made you stronger? Depression as a whole. Other than money, what is something you wish you had more of in your life? Social life, success, and motivation to name a few. Is there anything that you tend to ignore for the sake of your sanity? Sure. Mental health stuff flares up sometimes if I think about some things too deeply. What was the last thing you argued or debated about? Did you eventually agree, or did you have to agree to disagree? Getting rid of Bentley, and neither, really. Mom knows we shouldn't have him for a world of reasons, yet she refuses to try to find a far more suitable home for him or at least talk to Nicole about it (he's her dog, but she doesn't live here), who's never even paid him almost any attention. I could rant about this for hours. What is something you wish was different about your family? THAT WE WERE CLOSER. What is your main struggle or focus in life right now? Getting out of the house/becoming more of a functioning adult. Are you more dramatic or stoic? I'm neither extreme, really, but I'd say I'm much further from stoic. Are you on medication for anything? If so, do you feel like it helps? Have you ever been afraid to take medication or had a particularly bad experience with it? A lot, but the only ones I feel don't work are the ones for my tremors and knees. I was on one med for a while that I was scared to take because it made me vomit (safe to say I wasn't on it long), and even my life-saver med made me sick at first, but I took prescription nausea pills to ride that out as my body adjusted. Do you prefer having long or short nails? Short, but not too short. When was the last time you had an argument with one of your parents? Idr. Do you tend to eat the same few things all the time or do you vary your intake? Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? Are there any commonly enjoyed foods that you don’t like? I'm picky and definitely have a limited palate. Some foods I can think of for the last question include fried chicken, BBQ, watermelon, tacos, all cheeses but American, aaaand I'm blanking again in an area I should have a book about. Do you have good body image? Do you feel more confident about your body or your personality? What is one thing about yourself about which you do feel particularly confident? Ha, as if, so personality. I like how open-minded I am. How likely are you to compliment other people? How do you react or respond when you receive a compliment? What are your favorite types to receive? It depends on the person, the atmosphere, and my anxiety level. I sometimes fear complimenting people because I don't want someone to be like "um why is she talking to me?"/"is she flirting with me?"/"why did she notice that?", etc. I become so giddy (at the very least internally) when people compliment me because of how my self-esteem is, and I really appreciate them. The compliments that mean most to me are regarding my photography. With how badly I want to be a successful photographer, people seeming to genuinely like what I do has actually made me smile like an idiot and giggle publicly. It just means a lot to me. Describe the last thing you reblogged? How many posts do you tend to reblog during a day? A clip of Mark having a fit over a dog in RDR2. How much I reblog varies greatly; depends on how much I get on Tumblr that day, what I feel like sharing at that moment, what I queue... Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. Do you listen to your friends’ advice when they give it to you? Depends. If it's Sara, I usually do. What’s the last kind of soup you ate? Vegetable. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It is pierced. The most memorable time that you skipped school, what did you do? I don't recall. Did you ever have a favorite teacher in high school? What made them your favorite? Coach Collie. He was very friendly, wise, his sense of humor was great, he cared deeply for his students, was super chill, shared life advice all the time, etc. etc. Can you think of a time when you were really obviously judged by your appearance? What happened? Not that I recall. What’s something your mother told you growing up that you actually listened to? Mind your manners. What are three emotions you experience regularly? Stress, content, but also discontent. What is your favorite Halloween candy? Reese's. Is there anyone who refuses to communicate with you? *shrugs* What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? Something for vocational rehab. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? I don't have a job or drive. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? When I found out one of my closest high school friends is pregnant. I was obviously happy for her. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? Anger; envy (but it's not often). Have you ever gone somewhere in your pajamas? What makes this acceptable or unacceptable to you? Plenty times, but it depends on my level of shits given and the location. Honestly wish pjs were more acceptable in public places cuz like why not, you've got clothes on, just don't go around where everyone can totally see your dick, ass, or tits. Other than the usual things like IDs, etc, what do you always carry with you when you go out? My phone. What type of photography do you enjoy looking at? Do you take any photos yourself, and if so, what types of things do you prefer to photograph? LOTS!!!! I particularly love fantasy-styled portraiture or macabre work, and omg give me soft lighting. I'm a sucker for emotive or conceptual portraits and the like. I like to photograph an array of things, but my faves are nature and animals. Have you ever gone out for the Black Friday shopping rush? Did you enjoy it, or not so much? Or, what’s the busiest shopping day you’ve ever experienced? Nope. Busiest shopping day I indirectly experienced was when I worked at GameStop during the holiday season... nope. It's a small store and it was flooded. I hated it. Idk about one where I/my family was the shopper. Do you enjoy reading diaries or stories you wrote from when you were younger, or does it embarrass you? If you’ve kept them, was there a particular reason for hanging on to them so long? No. No. No. NO. I can't stomach going any further back than '15 at the RP forum because fucking cringe. All old stuff like physical journals and such, they're long gone because I never want to see them again lmao. What would you say was your first true hobby? What about your most recently developed one? Hmmm, probably video games were the first things I was *really* deep into. Recently developed... good question. Is there one thing that throws off your mood more than others, whether it be lack of sleep, lack of food, heat/cold, etc? I'M FUCKING /CRANKY/ IF I'M HOT. Serious lack of sleep makes me moodier. What is one common area of life in which you feel you have little to no experience (college, children, marriage, etc)? Work and independence. What kinds of things are you likely to complain about? HEAT. If it's hot to me, you're gonna know. I'll complain if my stomach especially hurts, sometimes with other pain. Do you like to put any extra effort into your food in terms of presentation, or do you prefer to just put it on a plate and eat it as it is, no frills? I don't cook, so. But I'd definitely be the latter. When was the last time you were mean or rude to someone else? How about the last time someone acted that way toward you? I hung up on this insurance agency or whatever they are that call me every other goddamn day. I dunno about the second question. What kinds of things are most likely to make you lose your temper? Have you ever done something regrettable or embarrassing while angry? I fucking dare you to ridicule the mentally ill in front of me. Goddamn dare you. For the second part, not to my recollection. Do you have a large dog? No, both our dogs are medium-sized. If not, are you afraid of them? Not at all. Do your parents know that/if you smoke? I don't. What is the reason you last received money? Mom borrowed some from me so she was paying me back. Is anyone in your family sick? Not to my knowledge. Are you very upfront about things or do you "beat around the bush"? The latter, typically. Do you ever write poetry just to get your feelings out? Not really anymore. Middle and high school? I was all about it. I wrote only one poem this year. How many bones have you broken? None. Whose house did you visit last? My sister Ashley's. Have you ever bought a fragrance by a celeb because you liked who it was? No. Do you have a gazebo at your house? No. What’s your favorite brand of bottled water? Essentia.

[arodrwho]

tfw u wanna infodump at someone but u don’t feel comfortable just going up to u friends & askin “hey can i infodump @ u” even though they’ve made it clear before they’re chill w/it n so instead u just. yell in a goddang post

Really Cool TAZ Things:

voidfish. voidfish!! entire concept of!! voidfish!!!!

i would hug the voidfish. i would learn how to carve shit just so’s i could make a duck. for the voidfish.

i’d write a lil story about ducks for the voidfish

void

fis h

good concept. 10/10 fuckin concept. so good

also, pretty. rly pretty. big ol galaxy jellyfish, stunning, pls take more sea creatures & make them all spacey, is absolutely the best possible thing (voidfish, starwhale, outer space mermaids,,,,,,,)

sings!! like it’s already the coolest shit & then it sings!!

and glows! and Is A Friend!!!!!!!!!!!!

and loves ducks so much,,

i can’t handle how much it loves ducks

cannot

davenport!!

a good dude. 10/10 fuckin superb lil nerd

illuuuuuusions

AUTISTIC

so much empty space in this backstory......so much room to play.......

struly a Gift

i rly like the whole,, wrath thing...... He Me

dadnport

probably talks at machines the fuckin nerdhole

bruh the moment he jus catches the thing in his bare hands and NOTHIN HAPPENS like oh myg od

oh my god

i already knew a lotta shit by that point but i was jus like oh, oh shit, ohohohohohoho da MN & it was so great

so great

mmmMMMMMMMagnus

he ate! the rock!!

ate it!!!!!!!

big man. soft man. big soft loser of a man

good.

his arc. is so good. he grows so much

therapy dogs,,

ducks!!!!!

makes the ring.......

How Much Love Can We Fit In 1 Man, Let’s Find Out

Shaped Like A Friend

bOND ENGINE

WHAT A NEAT CONCEPT

10/10 VERY COOL WOW

so cool i want. to eat it

let me eat the bond engine

eat.

u know what else is cool, like, conceptually? (besides everything?) fuckin

the goddamn hunger. that’s cool as shit

here was me conceiving of it as fuckin. straight-up entropy for so long and then! and then!!!!!

john.

and then!!!!!!

john agAIN.

and then. aaaAAAAAAAAAAAA

also cool conceptually is everything else

cool emotionally are even more things

like

lucretia

i have so many feelings about lucretia

so many

i want. to give this woman the world

and also a very long nap

and so many hugs (but not from me cos that’d be weird? from like, her fambly)

i also want, like.

ofc taako’s never gonna Forgive her, like, that’s word of god as hell, but like

i want. there to still be somethin there?

like. in the way of attachment, even if not necessarily emotional on his end, because taako, & bc betrayal (and bc taako)

anyway back to lucretia in general

REALLY COOL

cycle 65,,,,,,,holy fshit

also hey backin up a little bit

taako

specifically someone was talkin bout older sib taako on my dash and i read their reasoning & Thoughts & jus

like

oh no

oh no

i love him even more now

older sib taako is jus very............Yes. yesyes, give it to me

i also have thoughts about taako in relation to dr who quote “love is not emotion. love is a promise”

..................i also now have thoughts abt taako in relation to that quote + the words (directed @ lucretia) “and you broke that promise”

o dear

anYWAY

i wish i could draw bc i would ABSOLUTELY draw a taako thing w/that quote in the background bc i have A Lot Of Feelings About It

anyway

just

taako, my dude

taako

& to round out the 3, merle

good plant dad

lowkey reminds me of my mom? except.....not really at all bc them v different

but also

similar?

but Not

anyway. HE ARM

cool arm. cool as shit

i wanna say shaped like a friend but no one is more friendshaped than magnus (except maybe the voidfish), so uhhhhhh

Shaped Like A Weird Dad

highly good......

Wants To Be Better which is Important

“am i your friend?”

(am i your friend?)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

g o d.

oh also he’s aro so jot that down,,

so good so good, so good so good so good

hey how bout that uhhhhhhh fuckin BLUPJEANS DUET my dudes

i shed actual tears. real actual proper fuckin tears

delightful number of violinists (which is 2 say, more than 1)!!

oh man i still love “hot diggity shit, that is a baller cookie” like, so much

oh man oh man oh man

barry is a GOOF

GOOF

literal goddamn decades...............

ango mcdango

i’m a flesh boy

what are your real names that you actually have that aren’t fake?

that’s a good goof, sirs

(be kind to this boy!!!!!)

gives off hardcore hermione vibes, i want little hermione to meet this child & i want them to be Best Friends

i want ango mcdango to Have Friends

who are kind to him

i also want tiny hermione to Have Friends

who are kind to her

so it works out y/y?

lup!!

gives a real goddamn good speech

but also

yOU’RE DATING THE GRIM REAPER??????

(the duality of woman)

very good & important

sensory deprivation badtimes........have curiosity for how that’d pan out in the aftertimes

fire!!!!!!!

i haven’t actually met ace mcshane properly yet but i feel like they should be introduced & would get along swimmingly......

mmmMMMMMMMM

good shit good shit

in conclusion ye s

[sleepyeye17]

The Bath

Robin had called Cormoran late in the afternoon, telling him that she was at the police station, and would he please bring McMum’s case file. They had been hunting down a client’s daughter, a nineteen-year-old last seen working for a pimp named Golden Archie. During the investigation Robin had discovered that Stephanie, Whittaker’s former child prostitute, had been given to Golden Archie to repay a poker debt. Robin had taken Stephanie out to lunch the week previous to try to get information, but the girl kept her mouth shut, sharing only that Archie was a good man who never hurt them, and bought them nice clothes. It was true that from a distance Stephanie seemed much better off with Archie than when she had been with Whittaker. She had no visible bruises, and had some color in her skin. Her uniform had changed from the ratty hoodie to a sequined crop-top and white shorts. Up close, though, Robin could see track marks on Stephanie’s elbows, and a heaviness behind her eyes that revealed the true abuse that Archie was inflicting. Robin had arranged to meet with Stephanie again today.

Stephanie had been hysterical when Robin arrived, waving around a needle and crying so that Robin couldn’t understand a word the girl said. Before Robin had known what to do, Stephanie had thrust the needle into her vein.

“I’m not in trouble,” Robin told Cormoran on the phone, “But Stephanie ODed and they want to know what we know.”

“Jesus. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Stephanie is in a coma, though, they don’t think she’ll make it.” Her voice was high and shaky.

“Were you there when it happened?”

“Yeah. She was upset, and then… It all happened very fast.”

Cormoran got Robin at the police station and they went back to his flat, where he made her his favorite comfort food, scrambled eggs with brown rice and melted cheese. Robin ate mostly in silence.

“Are you going to want more, or should I put it away?” Cormoran asked. Robin didn’t answer.

“Robin?” He touched her hand and she jumped like he had shocked him.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you still hungry?”

“No, you can… Uh…” She blinked up at her. “What was I saying?”

They had both experienced adrenaline before, the haziness, the memory loss.

“Do you want a bath?” Cormoran asked, “Would that help?”

“I haven’t taken a bath in a long time,” she said.

“Is that a yes?”

Robin considered, then nodded.

“That might be nice. Thanks”

Cormoran ran the bath while Robin cleaned up the dishes. Robin’s own flat didn’t have a bathtub, just a tiny shower that spat out occasionally hot water. Cormoran needed a shower big enough to fit a chair, and had been quite lucky with his flat’s bathroom. The flat itself was tiny, but the bathroom had a large rectangular tub with thick flat edges that he could sit on easily to maneuver into the shower.

Happy with the water temperature (he knew Robin liked her showers scaldingly hot), Cormoran went back to the kitchen to find her putting the dishes away still dirty. A brief glance around the kitchen showed that she had put nearly everything on the shelves still caked in eggs and cheese.

“Robin,” Cormoran said, “Did you forget to wash the dishes?”

She looked down at the bowl she was holding like it had materialized out of nowhere. Cormoran eased it out of her hands.

“Come on baby,” he said, “I’ll finish up here. You take your bath.”

Robin drifted into the bathroom, and Cormoran went back to the kitchen to fix the mess. He knew how adrenaline worked: once, after a client’s husband had threatened him with a gun, he had arrived at work with his jeans and his coat on backwards, and no memory of how they had gotten that way.

He was in the process of scrubbing out the pans when he heard a muffled sound coming from the bathroom, something between a choke and a whimper.

“Robin?” He went into the bathroom to see her in the bathtub, her hands pressed to her mouth, silent tears rolling down her face. “Oh, Robin, honey.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s just adrenaline,” she gasped, rubbing tears out of her eyes. Black crescents of makeup had pooled up under her eyes. “Crying is a… a physical response to adrenaline. It’s just a physical response, that’s all. It didn't get to me or anything.”

Cormoran knelt beside the tub, suppressing a grunt of pain, and took her face in his hands.

“Robin.” His voice was firm. “That’s utter bullshit.”

She gasped out half a laugh.

“Not like I haven’t seen worse,” she muttered.

“I know,” he said, “You’ve seen worse. And I know you can handle it, too.” He rubbed a washcloth over her back and she released her shoulders with a shudder. “But what you saw today sucked. It sucked.”

“I wasn’t even in any danger.”

“What you saw today sucked,” he repeated.

She sighed.

“It sucked,” she conceded.

“Just because it makes you emotional doesn’t mean that you’re weak. If anything it makes you strong.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’ve always been amazed by your empathy.”

“I just keep thinking about all the things I could have done differently. I knew Stephanie. I had spoken to her. I had bought her lunch. If there was just something I could have said, something that could have made her listen.”

“I saw that Carver is on the case. Did he get to you?”

“Yeah. He kept asking why I didn’t do more.”

Cormoran made a disgusted sound in his throat.

“I could wring his oily neck.”

“He’s a wanker.”

“It’s not even remotely your fault. You were probably the one kind person she’s known in ages.”

“But somehow kindness wasn’t enough.”

“Some people are broken in ways that we can’t imagine. That doesn’t mean that kindness doesn’t count for anything.”

Robin pushed the water around in the bath, thinking.

“Do you think I’m too kind?” she asked.

Cormoran raised an eyebrow.

“Wot?”

“Like, if I had used tough love, or tackled her, taken the needle out of her hand, been a bit less polite and gentle, would it have gone different?”

“Yeah, you would have gotten a solid dose of heroin in your bloodstream, and maybe some HIV to boot.” He shifted his weight, ignoring the sharp pain in his knee. “She’s in the hospital now, where people can take care of her. Maybe this will be a turning point.”

“If she survives the night.”

He sighed.

“Yes, if she survives the night. What matters is that you got her away from her pimp. And you got people on the case. Maybe Carver will catch the guy.”

“I don’t trust Carver as far as I can spit.”

“He’s a prick, but he's good at the cut and dry stuff. Pretty clear who’s at fault here.”

“I guess.” Robin laid back until her hair fanned out like feathers in the water. “I want to help people,” she said, “That’s my favorite thing about the job. But if I can’t even handle one sick junkie, how good am I ever going to be?”

Cormoran thought about this. He wanted to say something, anything, to reassure her, but all of his words seemed trite and meaningless.

“Wait here,” he said, “I’m going to nip downstairs, I’ll be right back.”

Robin looked baffled, but before she could ask any questions, he was gone. She sank down until the water covered everything but her nose, and she was lost in a soft world of warmth and steam and muffled echoing sounds. She wanted to cleanse herself, mind and body. She wanted to forget that she had ever known Stephanie. She tried to imagine the events of the day being scrubbed off of her and dissolving in the bath, but they swirled around her like sweat and dirt in the water. She was surrounded by soap and perfume, but she couldn’t get the smells out of her nose; piss and mold and the sour vinegar scent of black-tar heroin.

She felt quite silly for letting it get to her so profoundly. She felt she should be stronger, not so sensitive. Cormoran was being so kind about the whole thing, making her dinner, cleaning up, running a bath. A nasty voice in her head whispered, “It’s because he’s had plenty of experience with hysterical women, dating Charlotte”. Robin always tried to be as different from Charlotte Campbell Ross as she could possibly be. She tried to stay organized, independent, and emotionally steady, so that he would know that she was different. But sometimes she just couldn’t keep it up anymore.

She heard the bathroom door open again, far away under the water, and emerged, hair streaming into her face. Cormoran sat on the toilet seat so that he wouldn’t have to put his knee through the torture of kneeling again. He was holding a sheet of paper in his hands.

“What’s that?” Robin asked. Cormoran held it out for her to see. It was the drawing of a bird that Orlando had made for her. She still kept it over her desk, but hadn’t looked at it in some time. Robin blinked at it.

“You helped Orlando Quine,” Cormoran said, “Here everybody thought her dad didn’t love her, that he’d written terrible things about her, and you proved them wrong.”

Robin sniffed and smiled at her toes.

“I did help with that, didn’t I,” she admitted.

“You brought justice for Lula Landry,” he went on, “You saved Angel and Zahara Vincent from a sexual predator. Every day you work bringing people the truth, helping them out of unhealthy relationships and exposing wrongdoing.”

He looked intently at the drawing as if it would tell him what to say next.

“And, you know, you saved me,” he said, barely over a mutter.

Robin looked up at him. He scoffed.

“Don't look so bloody surprised,” he said, “You know it's true.” He leaned back, stretching his leg out. “Sometimes I wonder where I'd be if you hadn't fallen into my office that day.”

“I wonder that about myself, sometimes.”

“My life was going down the shitter when I met you. Failing business, homeless. Smoking like I had a third lung.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Robin beamed up at him, tears threatening behind her eyelids.

“You’re no so bad at saving people, either,” she said, sniffing hard.

Cormoran smiled and scratched his nose, trying not to blush.

“Listen,” he said, “Lucy got me a boxed set of CSI for my birthday. You want to watch it in bed and pretend that the justice system actually works that way?”

Robin grinned.

“Let’s get really wild and throw in some Ben and Jerry’s,” she said, “Make a proper party out of it.”

[aasiyaxo]

IC REFLECTIONS

1. http://aasiyaxo.tumblr.com/post/164463257105/list-of-tracks-ode-to-you-nostalgic-bliss-winter

2. http://aasiyaxo.tumblr.com/post/157996212860

3. http://aasiyaxo.tumblr.com/post/163297883445/at-a-young-age-sally-lost-both-her-parents-and-her

Answer the following questions:

What is the single best thing that happened in 2017? I gave birth to my baby girl.  

Pick three words to describe 2017. Rough, eye-opening, peaceful

What did you do in 2017 that you never did before? Gave birth  

Did you keep 2017′s resolutions? What were they? I didn't have any resolutions

Did you travel to any interesting places in 2017? Couldn't leave the country  

What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017? I didn’t lack too much in 2017.  

In what ways did you grow emotionally and/or spiritually in 2017.  Emotionally nothing’s really changed, I’ve been the same person, I did grow as a person. I learned how to control my anger a lot better and stop letting people try and get me to a point to where I wanted to kill them. I ignored a lot of bullshit that was attached to my name.

Do you believe that 2017 had an occurring theme for you? If so, which theme and why? Regaining and finding myself again.

Do you feel like 2017 went by too fast? I would say no, but I can’t remember if some of the stuff I did was 2016 or 2017. The years ran in together.  

List all of your employment in 2017? This is what I mean lol. I can’t remember if I was still at Forever 21 at this time. One thing for sure is I know the hospital, in the pediatric unit. Been there since coming to America.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year. "I was here, I lived, I loved, I was here"

What is/are something(s) you regret doing this past year? Putting myself in a situation that got me back on probation.

Fill in the blank: In 2018 I will ____________.  Keep working hard, keep my friends close, take care of my daughter and be that strength for her.

If you could fly anywhere in the world in 2018, where would you go? I just wanna be able to visit home.

Do you feel you need to apologize to anyone before the year ends?  No

What was the biggest surprise of this year?  The fall out my parents and I had, mostly with my mother. The on-going of not speaking to each other but when I had Rylee all of that changed and we got back to being close to how we were.

How much did you change this year? What’s different about you?  I don't think much changed about me, maybe I'm not as trusting as I used to be, that could be both a good and bad thing. But in my case, I'm calling it a good thing.  The saying "trust everybody just not the devil inside of them" speaks to me more clearly now.

CONFESSIONS Bold the statements that are true.

In the year 2017 I confess that I….

Kissed someone I never kissed before. Did something I regret. Had sex. Been drunk. Started doing drugs. Quit doing drugs. Been in a relationship. Visited a foreign country. Lied. Had a secret/kept a secret. Broke a promise. Slept under the stars. Stayed up until sunrise. Got in a fight. Fell in love with someone who was “just a friend.” Attended a party. Hosted a party. Got dumped. Slept with the same sex. Got a new piercing/tattoo. Attended a concert. Broke someone’s heart. Made someone’s day. Met new people that I became very close to. Cheated on a test/homework. Found love. Got a new job. Got fired. Learned to speak another language. Had surgery or received serious medical attention. Lost something very valuable. Had an allergic reaction to something. Experienced the death of someone close to you. Lost a friend. Painted a picture. Dyed my hair. Got a new haircut I thought I’d never get before. Wrote a poem. Graduated from High School. Graduated from College. Applied for Graduate School. Ran a mile. Ate much healthier. Ended toxic friendships. Ended toxic relationships. Gained a new friend. Gained a new best friend. Regret losing a friend. Regret losing a relationship. Tried something out of my comfort zone. Got married, engaged or divorced. Had a child. Committed a crime. Had a fight with my parents. Realized my homosexuality. Realized my bisexuality. Realized my pansexuality. Realized my asexuality. Pushed someone away. Slept with someone other than my significant other. Finally allowed myself to let go of my first love. Learned to hate someone I thought I never would. Learned to be more patient.

RESOLUTIONS Write at least two resolutions for each category below.

Personal Improvement: I want to start getting back to who I used to be,            Keep finding new and better ways to be a better person     Family and Friends:  Show my daughter what an independent, strong and educated woman looks like. Keep her close to me. Start going out more with friends. Connect my daughter to her other family from her father’s side School and the Outside World:  To finish school in the next years. I want to start volunteering at all the different shelters around Miami. Romance: Continue to romance and love myself, I'm letting things flow, I will not force it at all.

[thebabrs]

Babr Part Deux

At 37 weeks and 1 day pregnant with my second child, a white Jeep full of teenage boys made a left turn into the setting sun and crashed into our car innocently going through a green light on the way to Target. Neither car was going that fast so no one was really hurt, but the front of our GTI was totaled, airbags had deployed, Paolo was scared and crying and I had some gnarly bruises forming on my safely buckled belly.

The ambulance came and I had to be taken to a trauma ER because of how far along I was and the bruising. Ultrasounds and blood tests showed that both baby and I were ok, but we still had to stay overnight for observation. I barely had fallen asleep by 1am and was abruptly awakened by beeping and nurses rushing in with oxygen masks because the baby’s blood pressure had suddenly dropped. Things normalized quickly but I didn’t really fall back to sleep after that, just counted down the minutes until PJ could come back with Paolo and bring me home.

Fast forward to 38 weeks and I woke up feeling like I either had severe night sweats... in just my lower half, or I had just peed myself. But I didn’t smell like pee and I didn’t really feel sweaty. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on, so I cancelled my 9am Best Butt Ever class at the gym (even preggos gotta work that booty) and begged PJ to take me in to the hospital to check before he left for work. I never made any false labor runs with my first pregnancy so I felt like I had a free pass to be over-cautious this time. I was full prepared to be called out for wetting my pants and sent right back home.

I explained the situation to the nurse in Triage as I put on the hospital gown and she took my vitals. She kind of nodded her head and said it’s always ok to come check but yeah, most likely I’m just another pregnant lady peeing herself. There was a test that resembled an at-home pregnancy test pee stick that would show if infact there was amniotic fluid leaking and we waited a minute before the nurse glanced at the stick and started to say something. Then she stopped and looked again. Then she walked over by the window, where the light was better, and asked PJ, “Does that look like a line to you?” Yep, it was positive. “Well, nevermind, you’re not going anywhere!” She laughed and PJ and I just stared wide eyed at each other.

My water had technically “broken” but I wasn’t in any kind of labor yet. I had zero contractions and was still pretty much the 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced I was at my ob/gyn appointment the day before. My doctor had predicted it would happen in the coming week, and I had written in my journal that I was wondering about April 2nd. Well, April fools on me - this baby was coming now. We waited a few hours for my body to start contracting on its own, but since I couldn’t remember exactly when I first felt the leaking we didn’t want to wait too long. Eventually, I had to get Pitocin and while I was totally freaked out by the horror stories I’d been told about the pain of “induced” labor, the nurse assured me that it was no more painful than unassisted labor. It’s just when you start to have contractions at home they usually start slow and build up and you’re in the comfort of your own space and a little distracted. With induced labor you’re just waiting focusing on those contractions to just ramp right up from the getgo. And they did. PJ has taken Paolo home to pack up some stuff for us. We had no one lined up to watch him, so armed with an iPad and lots of snacks, the little guy was in it for the long haul with us.

While they were gone, I’m not sure if it was home or just wandering around the hospital getting lunch, I got an epidural. The contractions were getting serious and as the nurse helped me sit sideways on the hospital bed and the anesthesiologist worked on my spine I felt a whoosh of water and that dang slow leak seemed to burst like a south swell hitting the HB pier. I remember apologizing profusely and laughing but also crying and then just being very grateful for the drugs.

When the boys came back, PJ was pleased to see I had the epidural (insert eye roll) and Paolo was wary of all the things I was hooked up to. He was loving the hospital and the snacks and the attention from adoring nurses but was noticeably distant from me. He was still nursing to sleep and sometimes for comfort at this point, but had zero interest in me or my boob. It was nice to see him so happy and having fun, but I was kind of sad he didn’t seem to need me.

PJ worked on his laptop, Paolo watched the iPad and napped, I think the nurse gave me a plain turkey sandwich at one point which I thought wasn’t allowed but I ate it because I was STARVING. There was nothing good on the staticky TV. (I remembered the television being much nicer with Paolo.) Some dumb movie, maybe with Melissa McCarthy, was on and I recall thinking I don’t want my baby being born to “Tammy” (or whatever it was) and then being relieved when reruns of the Office came on.

It felt like it took forever for my cervix to kick into action. Hours between 3cm and 5cm dilated. I think I had been hovering around 6-7 cm for a while when I started to suddenly feel pretty ready to go. The nurse came in to check again but was in the process of telling me just relax and it’ll happen eventually when her eyebrows popped up in surprise and she told me that wow, yeah I was basically at 10. The doctor rushed in, having been out at some event for her own kid (definitely not expecting to see me so soon) and PJ came to my side. Paolo was back on the iPad in ignorant bliss as I started to push and at 19:08 he had a beautiful, tiny, 6lb 11oz baby brother.

This was Good Friday (and truly it was great) but while every one was trying to rush us out by Easter Sunday, we were worried about leaving too soon. We’d barely stayed one night with Paolo and once we were home we realized he had jaundice and ended up having to go to a different, much less nice hospital for his 24 hour blue light treatment. We also hadn’t exactly decided on a name yet, much to the dismay of the intern, volunteer, assistant(?) who kept coming in every hour trying to get us to complete the birth certificate. Paolo had already been telling people for weeks that his brother’s name was “Enzo” so we were kind of stuck with that, but the middle name had eluded us. We texted friends and family members, frantically googled name meanings and combinations. Finally we decided on “Philippe,” (“fill-eep”) it was a beautiful French name, (like my own, Celeste) it started with the strong “Ff” sound I had been drawn to (I had considered Frank, after my great-grandfather, or Fisher, an ode to my surname which means “fisherman”), but when it comes down to it, we named him after a sandwich. Philippe’s is one of the oldest restaurants in Los Angeles and most likely originated the French Dip. It’s a really cool spot and the food is solid. Coincidentally, Philippe emigrated from France to the US via Buffalo, NY (PJ’s hometown) before moving to LA. Regardless, it was Enzo Philippe. We brought him home and everytime I think I know anything, he still surprises me, just like we surprised all those nurses along the way that day. Motherhood is just the best, hardest, wildest ride.