#once again would like to clarify i do not care what anyone else does

[twigwing]

once again pondering my complicated relationship to STH shipping. i say complicated i feel like it just boils down to “i participate in it because it’s unavoidable”

[casuallyimagining]

When September Ends // part eight.

Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind.  Word Count: 4,697 Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing  explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder

Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4btsfor the late-game encouragement and edits.

Playlist: All of the poetry in this fic has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.

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Yoongi’s convinced that he has never walked so fast in his whole life. Not run–running would imply that there’s something wrong, and for anyone else on Spira, his life is going perfectly great. No, he’s walking, following the path as it curves around the resort lobby, past the cantina, through the trees, to the bungalows. You had a head-start–he’d stood there, a little shell-shocked, for at least a minute–and he had no doubt that you were already in the bungalow.

He just hopes you haven’t bolted the door.

But no, the proximity chip works, and as he crosses the wooden bridge, the door beeps and clicks unlocked. He pushes his way in, the cool air from the aircon hitting him in the face like a wall. He’s careful to shut the door gently behind him. He doesn’t want it to slam and you–wherever you are–to think he’s mad. 

The door to the deck is ajar, and he can see you out there, sitting on the edge of the hot tub. But he doesn’t go out. Not yet. A little part of him feels like throwing up, and he’s not sure why. All he knows is that this somehow feels even more tenuous than the situation with the Connois. And he’s not entirely unconvinced that they’re going to end up killing you both and dumping your bodies into the ocean.

Get it together, idiot.

Quietly, he slides open the glass door and steps out into the salty air once again. You don’t even look up, not when he closes the door behind him, not when he sits down beside you, not when he slides his legs into the water. The hot tub must not be on, because the water is surprisingly cool. It’s actually nice out on the deck–there’s a great view of the sea from this side of the peninsula, and the setting sun has turned everything a shade of warm gold. 

“Why’d you leave?” He tries to ask it softly. And by some miracle, there’s no venom in his voice. He can't, however, hide the tinge of hurt that comes through.

You shrug and avoid his eyes. He’s known you long enough to know that you’re anxious, can see the tension in how you hold yourself, can see how every muscle in your body is tensed and ready to spring you away.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, just in case you had any doubts. For a moment, he’s a little surprised by it himself. He isn’t mad. Three months ago, he’d be flying off the handle right about now. But no, he’s mostly just confused. “I’m just trying to figure out what went wrong.”

“You know what went wrong.” Your voice is hard, almost robotic. Even without knowing you the way he does, Yoongi knows it’s forced. 

But instead of pushing like he so desperately wants to–I really don’t, why don’t you enlighten me?–he lets the silence linger for a moment. And then, tentatively, he asks, “Do you regret it?”

Your response is almost immediate. “Do you?”

“No.” He says it without thinking, but he means it. 

A month ago–hell, an hour ago–he would never have dreamed that he’d be in this situation. But now, sitting beside you as the sun sets the world aflame? He kind of wants to kiss you again. 

And why shouldn’t he? Maybe he’s never flat-out admitted it to himself, maybe he’s deluded himself into thinking your friendship was perfectly normal, that everyone else would act the way the two of you did, if only they had a best friend as close as you were to him. He’d been so mad when you left, and he had never really been able to figure out why. He’d always thought that he’d been upset by you not saying goodbye, but now, Yoongi’s starting to realize that maybe there was more to it. 

That maybe there is more to it.

But he has no idea how to say any of it. That there’s a part of him that wants to accomplish nothing else in his life but making you laugh. That not having you there for six years–not knowing how to find you or contact you or even if you were alive–was like a part of him was missing. That when he was angry and mean, it’s mostly because he’s hurting and a little because he’s scared out of his fucking mind. That he’s less hurt and less scared when you’re there.

It’s all too much and not enough and he’s worried about how you’ll take it. Looking back, there are plenty of times where he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way. But if he’s reading it all wrong–if you don’t feel like he does and you think that you’re just friends–that would be the absolute end of him. He would put on a brave face and shut the fuck up and be your friend, just as he’s always done. But now that the door is open, there’s no shutting it.

The sun is so low on the horizon now that it’s almost entirely gone. The sky is starting to darken, the gold has started to fade. He looks over to you, and you’re watching the sun droop, and you’re beautiful, awash in the dying embers of the sunset. He sighs, pulls a leg up to his chest, and watches as the water drips off his toes.

“We can pretend like it never happened,” he hears himself say. His voice is calm, his tone even. He sounds much braver than he feels. “We’re just too damn good at our jobs.” He laughs then, even though part of him is dying and he kind of feels like his stomach could vacate his body through his ass at any moment. “You have to do a lot of things when you’re undercover. This can just be one of those things.”

“I…” You trail off, and Yoongi waits for you to continue. Then, you sigh. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

What the fuck?

Immediately, he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, can feel his blood pressure rising. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You can’t deal with it right now? He could have handled you saying yes, that you did want to forget about it. But what the actual fuck does it mean that you can’t deal with it right now? 

He can feel himself getting angry. But he takes a breath, closes his eyes, forces himself to cool off. He’s mad, sure, but he doesn’t want to explode, doesn’t want to ruin the progress that he’s made–with you and with himself. Despite what you’ve just said, you don’t deserve his outburst. He can be angry. He can’t be unreasonable. 

So instead of saying something he’ll regret, he simply says, “Okay.” And he stands. And despite the fact that his legs are dripping water and that he doesn’t particularly want to do it, he goes back inside. And that, he thinks, is that.

Yoongi wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s freezing in the bungalow–the aircon must be working overtime. He’s in the bedroom. Alone. The shades are closed, but light is streaming through the cracks. It must be mid-morning. You’re supposed to meet up with the Connois. Why hadn’t you woken him up?

Where are you?

He’s freezing, so he tugs the blanket off the bed and wraps it around himself before venturing out into the rest of the bungalow. The kitchen is empty, but there, sitting on the sofa in the living room, is Seokjin. When did he get here? Was he even supposed to come? Did you call him? Was he here to take your place on the mission?

Seokjin watches him emerge from the bedroom, watches as he shuts the door behind him. Yoongi can feel his eyes on him. It feels almost judging. And when the older man speaks, Yoongi really feels judged.

“At least she’s still around for you to get mad at.”

“Shut up.”

Seokjin shrugs, sips at the cup that’s in his hands. Weird. Yoongi hadn’t realized he was holding something. The closer he gets to the older man, the more he smells like Corellian rum and tropical fruit–same as the drink from the bar.

“Where is she?” Yoongi looks around. You’re not out on the deck, you’re not here in the living room. There’s not many other places you could be.

Seokjin nods toward the front door silently. And Yoongi doesn’t hesitate, he drops the blanket and throws it open. And when he steps out of the bungalow and onto the bridge of the Star Chaser, he doesn’t question it. Kitt is in the pilot’s chair. The warning lights are flashing, the alarms are blaring, the instruments on the panels are beeping. Frantically, she pleads into the comms. A TIE Fighter whizzes past the cockpit window, guns blazing. 

He watches as Kitt gets up quickly and practically jumps down the ladder to the belly of the haulcraft. He doesn’t need to go down there to know what’s going on. He doesn’t want to go down there. But his feet carry him there anyway. 

His heart is pounding as he climbs down the ladder. Rung after rung, he can feel the dread pool in his stomach like a rock. But he’s gotta get to the bottom. What if you’re there? He has to make sure you get into a lifepod. He’ll give you his if he has to.

And as his foot touches the grated metal of the cargo hold of the ship, something changes. Everything goes silent. No alarms, no beeping, no frantic last words of his ill-fated friends. Just… silence.

Which makes sense, because the hold is empty. The lifepods are still there, everything is physically as he remembers it. But he’s the only one there. Kitt, Feeney, Jieun, you. Everyone is gone.

Suddenly, he’s hit with a wave of unease. It makes him nauseous, like he’s being tossed about in a patch of solar turbulence. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, and something inside him knows that it’s related to the fact that he can’t find you. If he could just find you, he thinks that maybe, he’d feel better. But where does he even start? 

Where are you?

Where are you?

Where are you?

Yoongi gasps. He can’t breathe. Something is squeezing his lungs and he can’t suck in a breath. His heart rate quickens, he can feel it pounding in his chest as he struggles. He takes in a shallow breath, but it’s not enough. He clutches at his shirt, the neckline strangling him as he tries desperately to fill his lungs. Another wheezing breath. The panic starts to set in.

But with the panic comes an odd clarity. He’s in the bedroom of the bungalow again. It’s dark, but he can make out the shapes around him. The bed in the center of the wall. A side table and lamp beside him. A chair in the corner. His bag sitting open on the floor. Yours, closed, sitting upright beside it. The door, and the light flooding in underneath it. Outside, the sound of the waves lapping against the pillars holding the bungalow aloft.

He focuses on the waves, and on the softness of the blanket on the bed, and slowly, ever so slowly, he calms down. 

It was a dream, he tells himself. Just a stupid fucking dream.

He stands, and in a few long strides, he’s in front of the door. His palm is sweaty as he grips the knob, nervous for what he’s about to see on the other side. But then he opens it. And there you are, still sitting on the deck. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You’ve moved onto the sofa, your feet propped up on the ottoman as you face out toward the water. The sun set hours ago, so he doubts you’re even looking at anything. As he’s standing there watching, you tip your head back and stare up at the stars.

Yoongi takes a deep breath to gather up his courage and pads across the polished wooden floor to the glass door. He slides it open quietly, but in the stillness of the night, it sounds like a ship taking off compared to the gentle waves below. You look up at the sound, offering him a flat smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. Neither of you say anything as he sits down beside you, but you move your legs over to give him room on the ottoman, so he assumes that he’s welcome out here.

It’s relaxing, listening to the waves lap at the supports of the bungalow. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear music, but it’s far-off and he can’t even make out what instruments are playing. Surprisingly, there are no insects–at least, none that make noise. If he closes his eyes, Yoongi could probably pretend that he’s not on a mission and that he’s actually here to relax. 

Eventually, you sigh deeply, and you turn your head to face him. “You could have gotten mad at me, you know.”

“I was.” Maybe it’s how quiet the night is, but Yoongi feels like he has to whisper. “There was a minute where I was mad.” He shrugs and turns his body so that his shoulder is against the back of the sofa and he’s facing you. “But mostly, I’m just confused.”

You make a noise, and he isn’t sure what to think of it. It’s almost like a hum, or kind of like a scoff, but it’s also high-pitched and sounds a little sad. “It’s what I do, right? I run away. Just like Yavin. Just like Fest.” 

Yoongi frowns. “So you have something to work on. What’s so bad about that?”

“What?”

“Start now. Stop running and face it. Whatever you’re running from. I’m here–I can help if you want. We can work on things together–you on this and me on my anger.”

“I don’t… not want to do that.” You turn, tipping your head back so that you’re once again looking toward the stars. “But that would mean that a lot of things would have to be real.”

“And real is scary.” Yoongi guesses, but then you make a face. And he knows he’s right.

The smallest part of him preens a little, proud that he still knows you so well. But then he considers just how long you’ve been running, and what that could mean, and what you might be running from. And he hurts for you, knowing that maybe, a little bit of all of this is his fault.

Slowly, he brings a hand up to pull you close. But he stops short of touching you, his hand hovering in the air centimeters from your back. What if you don’t want this? What if you want him to just leave you alone? What if you’d rather sit there in whatever emotions you’re feeling but not saying?

Fuck it, he thinks, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. 

The silence returns. He’d give almost anything for some sort of noise to cut through the deafening quiet. He’d probably even take the thrumming and whirring and beeping and clanging of the factories on Fest. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, it’s tense. The kind where you sit there, anticipating something, but you don’t know what. Yoongi’s not a fan, but he doesn’t dare break it.

Finally, though, you rub at your face as if you’re trying to scrub away your emotions. “What if,” you mumble, voice muffled by your hands. “What if we didn’t pretend it didn’t happen?”

His heart stops. Like, full-on stops, someone call a medical droid, he’s dying. His hand is still on your shoulder, and at this point, he’s not sure he can remove it. Thankfully, you continue, and he has time to get himself together before you expect a response.

“I mean I… I don’t know. I don’t think we have to forget about it. I don’t think that’s fair.” You sigh. “If we don’t regret it, then what’s the problem?” You say it like you’re trying to convince yourself.

“Then what’s the problem?” Yoongi repeats. 

“I just got you back.” 

The crack in your voice shatters him. He doesn’t even know how to react to it, not really, but he pulls you close anyway. Your body bumps into his chest, and all he wants to do in that moment is hold you until you’re both not so broken anymore. He knows that’s not possible–it’s a disservice to everything you’ve both been through and come out on the other side of–but maybe, if you were both still twenty and mostly whole, this would be easier.

Mentally, Yoongi is rolling his eyes. It’s been two hours, and it didn’t even take one for him to determine that the Connois are among the most insufferable people in the galaxy. At breakfast, Yoongi was ravenous–all he had for dinner the day before was that blue-green cocktail at the bar–but instead of breakfast at the cantina, they led you and Yoongi to a smaller restaurant further down the beach. Small plates. They served small plates. And really, it’s not the Connois’ fault, but fuck, he’s hungry and he already doesn’t like them and now, everything is terrible.

At least he’s not alone.

You must sense that Yoongi’s annoyed, because you’ve been shouldering most of the conversation. After breakfast, they’d wanted to take a boat to one of the islands a few kilometers offshore. And you’d gone along with it with a smile, taking his hand and not letting it go the whole time. You’ve fielded every question, prompting him to respond where necessary.

The Connois have brought you to a small shop. It’s not as pristine and commercial as the buildings in the resort, but that’s not to say it isn’t nice. It’s made of some sort of thin wood, and it’s filled to bursting with all sorts of tropical flowers and plants. You’re gathered around a small table, a teal-skinned Twi’lek stands in front of you. So far, she’s showed your little group how to weave the flower stems together to make intricate designs. She speaks with an air of authority–calm confidence oozes from her every time she brings up a new type of flower or leaf. It would be impressive if he weren’t so incredibly done with being here.

 She hands Yoongi a palm frond.

“You’re awfully quiet, Yulli,” Alain asks, happily accepting a long-stemmed flower from the Twi’lek. He looks up, makes eye contact with Yoongi before turning back to the awkward clump of flowers on the table in front of him.

Yoongi shrugs and doesn’t look up from weaving the palm frond through his bundle of buds and palms. “Having trouble letting go of work, I guess.” It’s a stab, a fairly clumsy one, but if you’re bothered by it, you’ll have to forgive him–he’s hungry.

The Connois both laugh politely. “Oh we’ve been there,” Lylla says.

“I dedicate an hour each morning to work. Then I put it aside to focus on Lylla.” Alain takes a break from mutilating a flower stem to pinch his wife’s side. She squeals and jumps away, and Yoongi once again has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

You lift your creation, eyeing it carefully before sitting it back on the table and taking a dark flower from the Twi’lek. You make subtle eye contact with Yoongi. “Sounds like a good way to handle it. What do you do?”

Okay, so we’re doing this.

“Alain commands a star destroyer in the Mid-Rim,” Lylla chirps. Judging by her smile and how she’s preening, she’s very proud of her husband. Alain makes a noise, as if to say that it’s not that impressive of a job. “He was personally selected by one of the Commodores to help with a top-secret mission once he gets back on-ship in three days.”

It’s not new information, but hearing them say it, hearing them acknowledge it, makes Yoongi’s blood boil. They’re proud of the fact that they are actively supporting and participating in the subjugation of an entire galaxy. And either they don’t know, or they don’t care. Yoongi isn’t sure which is worse. 

For your part, you ‘ooh’ politely and gas Connoi up a little. He basks in the attention, demurring and waving you off as you tell him how cool and impressive of a job it is. And then you drop the big question.

“Where are you stationed at?”

And Yoongi has to give you credit. You ask it so casually, it really does just sound like genuine interest. You don’t even look up from the flower that you’re casually tucking into the circlet you’ve been making. But then you make eye contact with him briefly, and he can see the barely disguised panic in your expression. He can almost tell what you’re thinking, too.

We’re so dead.

“We’ll be moving to Kashyyk space. That’s where we’re meeting up with the Commodore.” Alain primps the clump of flowers in front of him. Then he looks up, sheepish. “But, of course, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Of course.”

You change topics to something a little less suspicious–ask about their family, their homeworlds, how they met. Yoongi can’t bring himself to join in on the conversation. He listens, of course, for any signs that maybe you’re struggling or for questions directed at him. But for the most part, he just focuses on the flower arrangement in front of him.

After a few moments, you catch his attention, and when he looks up, you present him with the flower circlet you’d been weaving together. It’s pretty, with purple and blue tropical blooms and fancy palm fronds. Gently, you place the circlet on his head and mess with his hair, pulling strands out from under the flowers carefully. You look so pleased with yourself, and you’re so close that Yoongi can see the way your eyes sparkle as you smile. It’s cute.

You’re cute.

The Twi’lek takes all of the flower arrangements and sprays them with something to keep them looking nice. Yoongi’s not sure what the chemical is, but the flowers feel different, like maybe they’re coated with a plasticy substance. You place the flowers back on his head, apparently proud of your handiwork. 

The Connois giggle together, showing off their creations. Yoongi can’t quite make out what they’re saying to each other, but based on the stupid, gooey looks on both of their faces, he doesn’t want to. You nudge into him, nod in the Connois’ direction, and make a face. Yoongi laughs, embarrassingly loudly, but you grin widely, and he doesn’t care. 

“Where do we want to go next?” Lylla questions once you’re all outside of the florists’ shop. She gloms onto her husband’s arm.

“Actually…” You mirror Lylla’s stance, molding yourself against Yoongi’s side. You play with the fabric of the sleeve of his shirt, rolling the red cloth between your thumb and forefinger. “I could use a break.”

Alain smiles, like he’s in on some secret. “Let’s not monopolize all of their time, dear. I’m sure they have plenty of things they’d like to do on their own.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the implication, and he can feel his face heat up. Is that what you were trying to imply? He tries to hide his surprise by looking at you, and when he meets your eyes, you’re clearly just as shocked as he is. Thankfully, you think quickly on your feet. You laugh awkwardly and give a half shrug.

“I just want to take advantage of our vacation before we have to go back. Shoot me.”

The Connois laugh, and Lylla paws at your shoulder playfully, like you’ve just told the funniest joke ever. 

You part with the promise of meeting up for dinner.

You don’t end up meeting up with the Connois for dinner. Instead, you spend the time planning and preparing to take the information you’d gleaned from the captain and his wife. That, and calming down Yoongi.

“I can’t tell if they’re blind or stupid, or if they’re just that cruel,” he says, falling backwards on the floor of the bungalow’s bedroom. It’s the third time he’s said something like this, speculating on why the Connois are who they are.

You shrug, pulling the components of your communicator out of the hidden compartment of your bag. “They seem too clueless to be cruel.”

“But how could they not know?” He rolls onto his side and reaches for a component. He snaps open the port covers in the casing so they can be plugged in later. “How could they not see?”

You don’t have an answer. It seems impossible. How could someone not see the press of the Empire’s thumb on your homeworld of Fest? How could someone not notice the obliteration of planets like Alderaan and Scarif, or the destruction on Jedha? How could someone ignore the subjugation of Wookies on Kashyyyk, of the Bodach’i on Kerev Doi? You weren’t even that highly ranked in the rebellion, and yet you’d heard of it all. Word travels fast among the rebels. But it’s convenient–and beneficial–for the Empire to compartmentalize their atrocities. So it wouldn’t surprise you if you found that the Connois had no idea.

Of course, Yoongi knows all of this.

He groans, handing you another fully-opened piece of the comms-array. “How much do you think this mission cost? I get it’s important, but there’s got to be a better use for these funds, right?”

“In a world where Mon’s life isn’t in danger? Probably.”

“It’s bullshit though! All of these people here–all of these families–the money they’re spending here could support us for months!”

You let him vent. It’s probably healthier for him to get it out now, and you’ve always found it a little amusing to watch him get fired up about things like this.

“It could feed a whole apartment block on Fest for months,” he continues. “And yet they sit out there, not a single care in their putrid little minds.”

“Putrid little minds.” You repeat it, pitching your voice up slightly and masking your laughter with a cough and a well-timed snap! of the communicator parts.

“Too much money for their own good.” He says it like a diagnosis, his tone sage and all-knowing. 

Lazily, Yoongi rolls onto his back and pushes himself into a sitting position. He continues to rant as he helps you assemble the comms-array, connecting wires and snapping parts together while complaining about the hundreds of presumably wealthy, unbothered couples and families you’d seen at the resort. It’s cute, watching him fret and complain. He looks so grumpy bent over the comms parts, raven hair falling into his face. You quickly glance away when he looks up to hand you the section he’s been working on. 

It only takes a few minutes to finish assembling the communications device. It sits on the floor of the bungalow, small and boxy and light. There’s no way that it would ever reach far enough into space for its signal to be received by the main rebel fleet. But of course, that’s not what it will be doing. There’s a small transport ship in orbit just far enough away from Spira that it won’t be detected by planet security. You flick the switch to turn the comms-array on and watch the lights on the display illuminate one-by-one as it makes a connection to the larger, stronger system on the ship.

You wait. Even though this is far from the first comms-array you’ve assembled, it still makes you anxious. What if you’ve done something wrong? You hold your breath as you watch the lights flicker on, only letting it out when the final one turns on. The machine beeps, signaling that it’s fully connected, and you switch it over so that your message will be encrypted.

“Tee?” You speak into the small attached microphone. “You there?”

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so we've successfully done some spy shit. what do we think? next chapter's the last one, are we excited? I'm pretty pumped.

[nextinline-if]

I'm tired of watching creators get stepped on (with a clarified statement regarding the forum poster)

I don't frequent this forum - I went here to investigate pirating. Several people have insisted that the person going by the COG founder's name is not actually him, so here's my updated post. I retract that it's Dan but not what else I said. I still stand by what I said.

Hi, it's me, your friendly Vi with something on my mind. Unfollow if you will but I gotta speak my mind on behalf of the authors who spend countless hours creating the games that bring you joy. Sure, I've been away from Tumblr so I'm probably late to this but oh well. Still decided to post this.

I moved my game to Twine in August because I don't want to be associated with Choice of Games (COG). Here's a great example of why...

People in a forum asking for and sharing pirated content from indie creators' Patreons.

The author saw it and responded:

[ID: A snippet of what the text reads. Please take this down. This is just...really not cool guys. My hands are trembling as I right this, because I'm both hurt and stunned that someone would take *everything* from my Patreon and post it. If you ever want - redacted game name - to get finished, then try not to do things that will cause me to have a breakdown. Please. /ID]

Here's the response from someone going by COG's founder's name (per screenshots below - apparently it's not him but I do wonder why he lets someone use his name or isn't aware?):

I know this image is small, so here's what it reads:

"Let me tell you something, those who haven't subscribed to your patreon isn't magically gonna subscribe if they don't get stories elsewhere, and those who have already did that means they care about you and I'm pretty damn sure they aren't gonna unsubscribe anytime soon. If something anything changes due to the leaks then it's your popularity, readers are gonna be more interested in your titles and perhaps once they have enough money then they can even subscribe and donate that money to you, right now many members of this forum don't have enough resources to purchase things online such as patreon subscription, hence they had to rely on leaks to sate their excitement of reading the stories. Do think about it, from their perspective and if you can then try to make old stories and demo available for public this way they may not needs to rely on leaks and will read from official source.

Sincerely, Dan Fabulich"

What I said originally when I thought it was Dan: The guy is probably a millionaire (or, at the very least, well off compared to most indie creators) and he has the nerve to create an entitled response like this to an INDIE AUTHOR who uses choicescript.... wow. To an author who yes, has a pretty good following but is spending 1000s of hours creating for the enjoyment of others.

New statement: It's still fucking the way this person is speaking to an indie author. Still seems odd to allow a forum to use your name (and also basically insinuate it is supported by your company)...I would certainly be angry. But then again, I'm not rich and living off indie authors' work.

He (still) has more money than most of us indie authors ever have in his pocket from creating a company that pays pennies to the writers who make it money. People who just rely on passion to create these stories. Even if you make money on Patreon, most people cannot be sustained full-time. Most of the pirated content is not from bigger authors (but some is).

And before anyone says anything, yes, I am aware that many people can't afford Patreon and "don't want to wait." I get it. I promise you, I know the struggle. But like, it's fucking entitled to think you deserve to read someone's work without their permission.

And it's fucking entitled to throw the authors that pay for your lifestyle under the bus. (I still believe the company does this).

I am SO grateful to the majority of you out there who are kind, supportive, and overall amazing. But this is not okay!

Vi, out.

P.S. as an anon suggested, I will try to contact Dan to see if he's aware of this person using his name to make statements like this

[thestrangestthing89]

Mike character analysis: Season 1 - Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

Part 3:

Lucas has now made two assumptions that Mike likes El - the why don't you marry her moment, and telling Mike he just likes that a girl isn't grossed out by him. There is nothing to indicate that Mike's behavior toward El is any different than it is toward anyone else. Dustin confirms that Lucas was acting the way he was because he's jealous and says the next thing that implies romance out of nowhere. He says suddenly Mike is hanging out with this girl all the time. It's been about 4 days since they found El and Mike only stayed home from school once with her. Almost every interaction with Mike and El has had Lucas and Dustin there, too. And most of the time Mike is only talking to the two of them with El in the background. He only talks directly to her to clarify things once in a while. Again, we have no indication that what Dustin is saying is true from the way that Mike is behaving toward El. Dustin assumes it to be true because why else would a boy be this invested in talking to a girl? It's the same reason the GA assumes it. Then Dustin goes and says something else that confirms for the audience the Mike is just a late-bloomer. "Sometimes your total obliviousness just blows my mind". He is saying this in reference to Mikes supposed feelings for El. But he never actually asks Mike how he feels about her any more than Lucas or anyone else does (I wrote more about his here). Mike is again stunned into silence. Not because he's oblivious (again, we see how emotionally intelligent he is with Will later) but because this comment is out of nowhere and there is no basis for it. The audience is supposed to recognize that two 12 year olds are simply deciding that Mike likes El. But we have seen something different. We have seen Mike spend all season worried about Will. All of Mike and El's interactions focus on Will.

Mike sort of changes the subject here and starts talking about how all of his friends are important to him. It's interesting that Dustin doesn't mention Will here. Mike's the one who brings him up. It's one of the many examples of how Mike and Will's relationship is private. It's not on display for the others to see. It's why Dustin is calling Mike oblivious - because he can't understand why he wouldn't have feelings for El. Why else would he be talking to a girl? He doesn't see his feelings for Will - they are hidden away. Mike, up until this point, is using El as a weapon to find Will. He even says as much. It's why him and Dustin go looking for her. They need her if they want Will back. This doesn't mean he doesn't care about her. But he also doesn't really know her. She serves a purpose and they haven't been around each other very long.

When the group is reunited at the school Mikes behavior towards El starts to shift a little. Now he's been told by 3 people that he is supposed to have romantic feelings for El (Nancy makes a brief comment assuming that he must too even though she's seen them interact for 5 minutes. Because why else would he be talking to a girl?). He has also been shown by his own parents, the bullies at school, and many adults in town that Will got what he deserved because he's gay. So he starts talking about the Snow Ball with El. He explains himself very badly to her here. He's confused himself. At this point it's been made clear to him that there are feelings he's supposed to be having toward her and if they were true, he wouldn't struggle to explain this to her. But he's doubting himself and is doing this because he is "supposed to" not because he wants to. He also has this conversation with her after Dustin and Lucas try to leave them alone in the gym. Mike relocates them to the cafeteria where Dustin and Lucas are looking for snacks. He doesn't want to be alone with her and not only that, it hints at the performative way he behaves toward her in season 3. Because if he's going to have to have a girlfriend people need to see. And then there is the kiss, which isn't just an awkward 12 year old kiss. This scene is not at all romantic. Mike is confusing El and she has no frame of reference for what he's talking about let alone doing. It's not ok that people think it's cute and romantic that he kissed her when she has no idea what he's doing and didn't consent to it. And he's only doing it because he got pushed to. This is the quickest and most awkward kiss that Mike is clearly trying to get over with as quickly as possible. There is no lingering here. He gets it over with and immediately starts talking about his sister again (he was talking about siblings pre-kiss) and then flees the room. They are now under attack by the people at the lab and there is a scene that directly parallels the monologue Mike gives El in season 4. El is tired and can hardly move. She is laying on a table and Mike is standing next to her holding her hand. He is clearly panicking - they are in danger and it's chaotic. The lights are flickering. Sound familiar? Here, Mike also blurts out some random nonsense. He talks about how she's going to come live with him and how they will go to the Snow Ball. He is trying to get her to hold on and even says as much. He's telling her comforting things to distract her from the danger around them. This is almost exactly the same thing that happens when Mike is giving his "I love you" monologue in season 4. The kid is panicking. He is blurting out random shit that sounds nice to try to get her to focus and fight. He's doing what he needs to do to keep her alive and with them. Much like the season 4 scene, this scene is not at all romantic. The lights are flickering and you can hear people being attacked in the background and then the demogorgan burst in the room. El sacrifices herself to save everyone and Mike is clearly upset about this. Who wouldn't be? They had an awful week full of trauma and the one person who was helping them died when he was just starting to get to know her. There is nothing here that is romantic.

We then go to the hospital where Will is recuperating and the boys are waiting. Mike is the only one still awake and it's clear he's worried about Will (I'm not suggesting he wasn't also still upset about El, but they are in a hospital waiting for Will. It's obviously mostly Will he's concerned about now). The second Jonathan says it's okay to see him he is the first one to burst through the door and hug him.

Everything Mike did this week was for Will. It wasn't for El. The only thing he does for El directly as a person is feed her and give her a place to stay. His entire motivation for the whole week was to get Will home safely and he ignored his own safety and well being to do it. Not to mention ignored the chief and his parents and went out looking anyway. Will is that important to him.

During this week Mike experiences a lot of trauma that he carries around the next season and through the rest of the series. It's still unresolved and it's still impacting his behavior - toward Will and El specifically - in important ways. But ultimately what's important for season one is that if you pay attention to Mikes behavior and not what other characters are saying, Mike does not have a crush on El. And most importantly, he knows this. He very consciously alters his behavior to gain his friends approval. Now, I'm not sure he fully realized the extent of his feelings for Will, but Will going missing was the catalyst for him thinking about what would happen if he loses him. And losing Will is a major theme that gets brought up for Mike each season. At this point, Lucas and Dustin introduce romantic feelings into their discussions and it prompts Mike to think about it. It seems like this is something that they haven't discussed before because Mike is thrown off every time it's brought up. But now he's thinking about it and he's thinking about how people expect him to feel compared to the way he does feel, which he shows us next season. So I think this is the beginning of Mike realizing that his feelings for Will may be different than Lucas and Dustin.

Season 2 is now posted. Part 1.

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

Nothing like a deadline to get a thing done, amirite? I'm just amazed that I got my Secret Santa fic done a whole 24+ hours ahead of posting time. I truly thought I'd be up all night sweating it. I guess all I needed was the SO to be gone for the evening so I could make it happen.

Think I might start cracking the whip on modern dom!Pero tonight too....

Tasty teasers under the cut.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I’m actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it’s at: It's finished!!! I'mma post it tomorrow with all the other Secret Santas. I really hope my giftee likes it. I really hope anyone likes it. If not, I get it. It is a bit of a downer. Tasty teaser:

He only sat long enough to watch the churchgoers file out of mass, many of them with people they loved, humming, happy, cheeks glowing in that way when one steps into a fresh cold after being an hour or two in the warmth. And once the square was empty again, he stood, gave only a fleeting look to the river, and then walked resolutely down Yaëlle’s street. A little house with a red roof and a candle in the window. He stayed for supper and came back many nights after. And then one night he never left.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it’s at: Playing the wip game this week and answering Leslie's ask about this really zinged me into full gear and I have to admit that I had to tear myself away from it to work on my Secret Santa piece. But. The feedback and comments actually helped a lot and I need to rework a couple of sections before I dive back in, but I think I'm ready to rock on it, so expect this one soon. Tasty teaser:

“Did I…Did I do something wrong?” You don’t know where it comes from, this sudden neediness for him to clarify what just happened. When he turns you notice first the way he looks you over, matter-of-factly. “No, of course not.” And then you notice something else…that he’s physically aroused. He doesn’t move to hide it, nor does he seem to let it otherwise affect him. “This is not the place. I won’t take advantage of you here. Another place and another time. When I can worship you properly.”

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it’s at: Again, the wip game did wonders on my motivation on this! And knowing that Birdie is out there enthusiastic about it makes me want to get it going again. I'm focused on Pero at the moment, but I'll be back at this one soon enough. I have one little thing I really need to figure out, but other than that, I'm confident in bringing this one around. My favorite scene so far is reader's first heat, and my second favorite is the moment where everything goes terribly wrong. So get ready for more sweetness and angst I guess. Tasty teaser:

You’d sat smiling out of the car window on your way to another weekend at the Gutierrez compound, knowing full well that you’d return with a mark on your throat. You’d need to remind Javi to bite hard, to make it last. He was gentle enough that it might not take at first.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it’s at: I think I stepped away from this one too long. It's okay. The outline is solid. I just have to get Pero and Javi taken care of and then I can start working on this one again. Tasty teaser:

“Ellaria? Thank you. This is very kind.” Slowing in the courtyard and wearing the sunshine like a shimmering cloak, she returns to you once more. “It is you who are the kind one here, Pet.” “Me?” Her nod is slow, suddenly vulnerable. “You called me Lady. There are not many from outside these walls who would do that when they know who I am.” “But…you are very much a Lady.” She smiles, allowing this, turning to go. “And you are a guest. Even so, the Princes would want you taken care of. I am merely at their service. And yours.”

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it’s at: The asks are all sorted, and Shell is coming up next.... Tasty Teaser: I don't have anything written yet, but one of the asks I'm answering in the next installment is: "Does Preciosa ever get jealous thinking about Pats' other clients?"

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it’s at: I've been daydreaming about it, so that's a good sign. I did slap down some dialog that came to me the other day. Ellie's gonna get mad. No teasers for you. Get ready for some darkness.

[bitchinbarzal]

lulu’s summer prompts 💘

it’s summer! so for the next week you can request prompts from my prompt list 🌼🤍

rules;

when requesting please send in the full prompt and not just the number. this makes it easier for me, the writer. if you don't do this and just send the number your request will be deleted no questions asked.

you can find my list of who I write for here

1. "you're so cute." "what did you just say?" "I said you look like a boot"

2. "yeah, okay, so what if i dreamt about kissing you? don't we all do that to our best friends? …..no? what do you mean no?"

3. "you're cute." "what?" " said you look like a fruit." "that doesn't even make any sense."

4. "how do i know if i have a crush on someone?" "well, you can't stop thinking about them, you feel strange when they're around, and then you want to- why are you looking at me like that."

5. " I can't get you out of my head." "..thanks?"

6. "would it be weird if i kissed you? be honest." "honestly? yes. do i care? no."

7. "¡ feel strange when you're around." "do you have a fever or something?"

8. "just to clarify: me holding your hand doesn't, like, mean anything, by the way. not in that way, at least. unless you want it to mean something. i don't mind. that's cool."

9. "this sounds like you're flirting with me." "..i have been trying to do that for three years now."

10. "What, did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?"
"…Let's be real, you did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

11. "Oh my God, why are you crying? Does me liking you disgust you that much?" "No, you dumbass, it's because you like me back but I spent all of this time thinking you'd never like me that way!"

12. "Look, we can pretend I never confessed if it means you'll stay-" "What?! No! You can't just take back your confession! That's such a coward move and l'II not allow that! Especially when I feel the same way towards you."

13. "I'll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they're- they're only temporary, I swear I’ll get over you. Just please don't leave me-" "Did you ever think, that maybe, I don't want you getting over me? What if I don't want these feelings to be only temporary? That maybe I...
Like you, too?"

14. "I didn't mean to fall for you." "And neither did I."
"..Fucking pardon?"

15. Classic "there was only one bed"

16. Alternatively, there was only one couch

17. Having to share one blanket, fighting over it the whole night.

18. There's only one pillow, and neither of you can sleep without one. You both end up using each half of the pillow to rest your head on, causing your faces to be only a few inches apart.

19. All other seats are taken, so you both have to squeeze into one chair.

20. Wanting to borrow the same book but there's only one copy of it available at the library. After arguing over who will get it, you both decide to share it and study together.

21. "Oh no... what did we do?"

22. "Hi! You need to leave."

23."I'm sorry.. who are you?"

24."Ugh...I drank so much."

25. "I can't believe I did this again." / "I can't believe we did this again."

26. "Where are your clothes?"

27. "…I'm sore in such weird places."

28. "Hey, sorry! I'm gonna go. Right now."

29. "You didn't seem like you were having such a bad time last night”

30. "I think this was a mistake."

31. "It was always you."

32. "Can you just hold my hand?"

33. "I wished every day to hold you once more."

34. "There is something between us and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever felt."

35. "If I could stay here with you forever, I would."

36. "You are the first thing on my mind, the last thought before sleep”

37. "You made me feel weak."

38. "I didn't mean to love you so much."

39. "You were the only person I thought I could trust."

40. "You promised you wouldn't forget me.

41. "I don't have anyone else."

42. "I thought you still loved me."

43. "You never cared that you broke my heart."

44. "It wasn't supposed to end this way."

45. "Please just stay with me. For one moment at least."

46. "You're leaving now?"

47. "You didn't miss me at all?»

48. "I can't love you anymore."

49. "I wish I was sorry."

50. "Did I ever really matter to you?"

51. "Admit that you're wrong!"

52. "Do not compare yourself to me."

53. "My hate for you runs deeper than your ego."

54. "You left me!"

55. "You will never know how I feel."

56. "Liar!"

57. "I wish you were dead."

58. "You will regret this."

59. "Get away from me!"

60. "I don't know you anymore."

61. “She's not yours.”

62. " It wasn't meant to go this far. I swear. "

63. "Please, not now."

64. " You were ready to leave me for her. "

65. " There is no us, there never was.

66. "Why didn't you tell me? "

67. " If lies keep spewing from those lips then i'm walking out that door.

68. " Shut up. "

69. "Are you ever going to listen? "

70. " Don't leave me. Don't you dare leave me. "

71. " You know for a fucking fact that wasn't supposed to happen. "

72. " Sort yourself out first.

73. " Shhh. I know. "

74. " Tell me a story. "

75. " Leave. Before we wake up regretting what we've done. "

76. " All he ever did was use you. Why can't you see that? "

77. "You think this will make me stay? "

78. " You thought this was real? "

79. " My mum asked about you again. "

80. " Alcohol's the only constant in my life. "

81. " Sirf tum hi ho "

82. " He already knows. "

83. " I was doing fine. Really, and then you waltz back in like you didn't break my heart”

84. " You're married!! "

85. " You deserve so much better. "

[middlemistcs13]

@sotangledupinit Happy Holidays! Here is a little fic for my part in the CS Gift Exchange! @csgiftexchange

“The Festive Faculty Holiday Party”

Words: 6K

Rating: G

_____________

“So Killian, are you bringing your girlfriend to the faculty holiday party?”

“Beg your pardon?” Killian said.

Ashley turned around from walking out of the conference room, completely oblivious to Killian’s confusion. “Your girlfriend. The cute blonde in all of your Facebook posts. You should bring her to the holiday party. Everyone else is bringing their partners! We hardly know anything about your life Killian!”

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have to see if she can make it.” Killian said while scratching behind his ear, a tell-tale sign that he was nervous to anyone who actually knew him. Emma would know he was nervous.

“Great!” Ashley said, satisfied with his answer. “See y’all tomorrow!” She practically skipped down the empty university hallway. Killian and Belle waved their goodbyes before heading down a different hallway towards their offices.

“Killian, why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Belle inquired.

“The truth?” Killian scoffs. “Oh Ashley, sorry to disappoint, but the lovely blonde woman in several photos on my Facebook is not actually my girlfriend, just my best friend who I happen to have a crush on and we spend most nights together and I watch her son when she’s running late from work but she is oblivious to my feelings. So no, I don’t have a girlfriend and I’ll be showing up to this year’s faculty holiday party as I have every faculty party since working at this University, alone. I don’t think so Belle.”

“Well what are you going to do about Emma?” Belle asked.

Killian sighs. “I suppose see if I can bribe her to come as my pretend date. I’m not sure what all I’ll have to do to convince her it’s just fake.”

“Well, and I know I am being quite the romantic here, but you could always ask her out, like for real. This doesn’t have to be fake Killian. I am not nearly as close with Emma as you are, but I know she cares about you. She just might not know how because she’s scared. I mean the two of you practically raise her son together. I know you would do anything for Henry, and so does Emma. A few months ago you literally saved his life. I don’t think there’s much Emma wouldn’t do for you either. Maybe you should just ask?” Belle suggested.

Killian felt hope grow in his stomach, maybe those were just butterflies thinking about the possibility of actually dating Emma. He had known her for nearly two years since she moved into the apartment next to his. He had seen a couple helping her move in, and then a few days later he saw her again but she was trying to get a mattress into her apartment by herself. Killian, ever the gentleman, introduced himself and helped her get the mattress up the stairs and into her apartment. He ended up spending the rest of the afternoon helping her around her new apartment- putting together her bed frame, setting up her TV, helping her hang things on the walls- the works.She ended up asking if he wanted some pizza for his hard-work, which he accepted as a way to continue to hang out with the intriguing woman who was now his next-door neighbor.

He saw her a few times after that outside their apartments or on their patios, but their friendship actually began when she knocked on his door one evening asking if he wanted cookies. She looked like she had been crying, and he quickly ushered her into his apartment, hoping she would open up to him.

“You didn’t have to let me into your apartment, I was just going to give you the tray of cookies” she had said sheepishly.

“Nonsense love, you look like you could use a shoulder to cry on.” Killian had said. At her raised eyebrow, he clarified, “Well, you’re something of an open-book love, and I can tell something is on your mind. I would love nothing more than to listen to whatever is ailing you.”

She sniffled before mumbling something Killian couldn’t quite make out. “Beg pardon?” he said.

She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, before blurting out that she was pregnant.

“Oh, and the baby’s father?” Killian had asked, dreading the answer.

“Doesn’t know. It was my ex- the one I moved away from when I moved here. He already has a new girlfriend from what I’ve heard, and we broke up long before there was a baby involved. I made cookies because my foster mom always used to make cookies when something was upsetting us. It makes me feel better most of the time, but I didn’t want to sit in my apartment with three dozen cookies thinking about how I’m all alone and pregnant anymore, which is how I ended up here. Sorry to bother, I just-” Killian interrupted her with a hug, inhaling her eucalyptus shampoo and the slightly cinnamon-essence of Emma.

They became fast friends after that. He learned about her upbringing- her parents abandoned her off the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere Maine. She bounced around from foster home to foster home, similar to he and Liam once they were in the States after their father abandoned them. She was finally adopted by a woman named Ruth, and Emma gained an adoptive brother, David, whom she worked with. She also has David’s wife, Mary Margaret, who Emma claims has always been more of a mom to her than a sister-in-law. Besides the three of them, Emma didn’t have any family. And besides Liam and Elsa, Liam’s wife, Killian didn’t have any family either. Though Emma was scared of trusting people and being abandoned, somehow she let Killian in, and Killian couldn’t be more grateful. He was by her side through her pregnancy, and was even the one who drove her to the hospital and stayed with her through the birth of her son, Henry. Killain’s schedule as a university history professor was much more reliable and consistent than Emma’a job as a police detective for NYPD, so sometimes Emma would call him in a panic needing someone to relieve Henry’s babysitter because she caught a case. Killian was more than happy to step in and watch Henry, and he and Henry formed quite a close bond.

_____________

“So, do you have anything going on on the evening of December 13th?” Killian asked Emma that evening while making dinner in her apartment.

“Hmm, I mean I don’t think we have any plans because the Christmas gathering at David and M’s is on the 24th and it’s not like I have other family to have plans with.” Emma said while adjusting Henry in his baby rover as the packaging called it. “I mean I figure you and I will hang out between now and Christmas because you get off soon for the holidays right?”

“Yeah, on the 13th actually is when we finish. The faculty have a holiday party to celebrate the end of the semester every year, and I am going to go obviously because I always go and well Belle and Graham are going to be there and-”

“Killian, you’re rambing. And you’re scratching behind your ear. What’s wrong?” Emma interrupted.

“Wow you are quite the detective love” Killian laughed nervously.

“Killian.” Emma said more sternly.

“I was wondering if you would go with me. To the holiday party I mean. Everyone always brings their partner and this will be my seventh year at the University and I have never brought anyone. Some of my colleagues were nagging me about it, and it was assumed that I had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who I was bringing. To the holiday party. A blonde girlfriend who happens to appear in quite a few of my Facebook photos.” Killian spilled nervously, going back to mixing the rice and meat concoction for his and Emma’s quesadillas. “It would be fake, I just need you to pretend. It’s just for the evening Emma, but if you feel uncomfortable, then you don’t have to do it.”

Killian missed the disappointment in Emma’s eyes as he clarified the evening being a fake date as he was busy with dinner, but he was relieved when she agreed. “Of course I’ll go with you Killian. I’ll just see if David and M’s can watch Henry for the evening and we should be all set.”

Killian breathed a sigh of relief before smiling at Emma, and plating their dinner.

_____________

“What am I supposed to wear to the party?” Emma called from the bathroom where she was giving Henry a bath. Killian walked in from the living room so they weren’t yelling across the apartment.

“It’s a semi-formal evening, and something you already have should work. I don’t want you to have to purchase something new.” Killian replied.

“Well what if I want to buy a new dress? I mean I haven’t really had a formal occasion to dress up for since I had Henry and my undercover ops don’t count. I honestly don’t know if I even fit in some of my nicer dresses from before I was pregnant with Henry. Is there like a color I should keep in mind?” Emma asked while rinsing the shampoo out of Henry’s hair. Killian walked closer to the tub and bent down to play with Henry. At the sudden change in caregivers available to him, Henry squealed and ended up splashing both Emma and Killian.

“I think he wants to call you something, but he just doesn’t know what.” Emma smiled at Henry, wiping the water out of his eyes.

“Hmm?” Killian didn’t understand where she was going with the abrupt change in topics.

“Henry I mean. He’s been calling me ‘Mama’ pretty consistently in the last like two weeks, so I am sure he’s getting ready to say another word. You are the next closest to him for sure, I mean he loves you. Don’t tell M’s that, she’ll get upset.” Emma and Killian both laughed at her comment. “I think he wants to call you something, but he’s nearly 13 months old. He’s not about to call you ‘Killian’. He reaches for you every time he sees you, and he always babbles at you. I just think he doesn’t know. It’s not like he has someone else he’s calling ‘dada’ or anything. I know I’m rambling, but maybe you had something in mind for him to call you? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a few days now.” Emma finished.

Killian studied Emma as she continued washing Henry. She looked genuinely nervous about bringing this up to him, and it suddenly dawned on Killian why. “Emma, love, I’m not going anywhere. You have to know that right?” Killian asked.

Emma wiped away the beginnings of tears forming and laughed nervously. “I’m just afraid, Killian. But I know you, and I know you are not going to leave right now, but-”

“Never, Emma. I am not ever going anywhere. I will always be here for you and Henry. Always.” Killian said. He watched a few tears make their way down Emma’s cheeks as she nodded, and he could tell she wanted to say something else, but he didn’t push her any farther.

_____________

“Killian told me it didn’t matter what color dress I wore to the holiday party.” Emma said, frustrated without any further instructions from Killian.

“Yeah, because Killian knows nothing about fashion and honestly could care less.” Elsa said while pulling into the shopping center. Emma asked Elsa to come with her to dress shop. Emma met Elsa a few months after knowing Killian, and the two have been close friends since.

“I guess I’ll just have to see what dresses they even have and which ones fit. I know I’m not going to wear like orange or hot pink. Probably not pink at all, it’s not really my color.” Emma said.

“I’m just excited you asked me to come! I haven’t had any “girl” time in a while between work and taking care of Liam. I swear he is so dramatic when he’s sick.” Elsa said, making both women laugh.

Two hours and four stores later, Emma came out of the dressing room finally feeling confident in her dress. Between being a larger size because of her pregnancy and low-cut skimpy looking dresses, she hadn’t had much luck and was starting to feel defeated.

“Wow, this has got to be the dress Emma! You look stunning!” Elsa exclaimed before Emma was fully out of the stall.

“Do you really think so?” Emma questioned, suddenly feeling nervous under Elsa’s gaze.

“Absolutely! Killian will have to finally ask you out on a real date after he sees you all dressed up!” Elsa exclaimed!

“I don’t want him to feel forced Elsa, that’s not why I agreed to go with him and that’s not my intention.” Emma said.

“I know that isn’t your intention Emma, but I promise you he likes you too. You guys just need to stop dancing around each other.” Elsa assured Emma.

“I don’t know Elsa. If he actually liked me more than just a friend he would have just asked me instead of making a big deal about how it was all just fake.” Emma sighed.

“He’s a bloody idiot Emma. He’s been hurt before too, and I know he thinks you don’t like him back.” Elsa said.

Emma looked skeptical. “Well do we think this dress is fine for this party?” Emma asked.

Elsa just nodded her head, knowing Emma was uncomfortable facing the truth about her and Killian.

_____________

“Alright little lad, let’s get you out of your car seat aye?” Killian said to Henry as he worked to unbuckle him from the car.

“Killian I want to put his little hat that Granny made him on!” Emma said, coming around the car to assist Killian. Although he only had one functioning hand and a prosthetic, he did a pretty remarkable job doing everything he needed for himself, and Henry.

“Alright love, I’ve got him steady so you can put his hat on.” Killian said, turning around with Henry in his arms. Henry was happily babbling and surprisingly let Emma put his hat on.

“Okay kid, let’s also get this coat zipped up. It’s freezing out here.” Emma said, blowing raspberries on Henry’s cheeks as she zipped up his small puffy coat. Henry broke out into giggles in Killian’s arms, causing Emma and Killian to join in on the laughter. They started walking towards the store, and Henry was content as could be in Killian’s arms, even snuggling his face into Killian’s neck when the wind began to blow. Henry’s cuddles amused Killian, so he started tickling the toddler who erupted into more giggles.

“Killian?!” A shrill female voice called, breaking the three out of their laughter. There was a small, petite blonde woman who stood a few feet away from them with a few shopping bags in her hands.

“Hey Tink, what brings you out to the stores today?” Killian greeted his colleague.

“Just some last minute Christmas shopping. I found out I was supposed to buy some gifts for Jefferson’s parents who are coming into town for the holidays. How about you guys? Oh, and this must be-”

“Emma! Killian’s girlfriend.” Emma interrupted the smaller woman.

“Oh Emma, nice to meet you. I’m Tink, or really Rose, but everyone calls me Tink. I work with Killian in the history department at the university. Are you coming to our faculty holiday party with Killian?” Tink asked.

“Yeah! I’m really looking forward to meeting all of Killian’s coworkers.” Emma smiled.

“And who is this little guy? I didn’t know you had a child, Killian!” Tink exclaimed.

“Oh he’s actually Emma’s son, I am-”

“Raising him as if Henry was his own. Killian’s a really stand-up guy. And Henry absolutely loves him as you can tell.” Emma interrupted. The three adults turned their eyes towards Henry, who suddenly was shy with all of the attention and turned his face into Killian’s neck once again.

“Aww, Killian, that is so sweet! And he is just adorable! You guys are so lucky to have each other!” Tink gushed.

“Yeah, we really are,” Emma said, sliding her arm around Killian’s back. Killian looked alarmed at Emma’s sudden change in behavior, but Emma just smiled to reassure him.

“Well, you two lovebirds have a great day out shopping! And I look forward to seeing you again at the holiday party Emma! Bye Killian!” Tink called, before walking away from the pair. Both Killian and Emma said their goodbyes before continuing walking towards the store.

“She’s cute,” Emma commented, finally untangling herself from Killian’s side.

“Hmm?” Killian questioned. He attempted to put Henry in the shopping cart, but Henry was not budging from Killian’s arms. Emma instead grabbed the cart as they continued on into the store.

“Tink. She’s cute. She’s friendly. She’s nice. She’s bubbly. I’m just surprised you’ve never asked her out or anything.” Emma said, fighting the jealousy she felt coursing through her veins. Killian abruptly stopped in front of Emma and the cart, causing Emma to run into him. “What?” Emma questioned his facial expression and abrupt stop.

“While Tink might be those things, she is nothing compared to you Emma.” Killian said sternly.

“What?” Emma asked, completely dumbfounded by Killian’s confession.

“Emma, surely you must know.” Killian quietly said.

“Know what? Killian, you aren’t making any sense.” Emma said, quieting her voice as well.

“You are simply stunning love, and no other woman could possibly compare to you.” Killian whispered.

“You think I’m stunning?” Emma said, holding back tears in her eyes. Emma didn’t often feel pretty or beautiful, let alone stunning. But maybe Killian telling her as if his life depended on it would make her believe that she was stunning.

“Of course love. How could you ever question such a thing?” Killian sighed, nearly exasperated that he had to spell out things about Emma that he thought were obvious.

“I mean, not a single person in my entire life has ever said anything like that to me before. And even if someone had said something remotely similar, it’s not like I trust a lot of people.” Emma said.

“Hey! Get out of the aisle! This is not a place for deep conversations! Go home for that!” A short and stout middle-aged man yelled from behind them. Upon looking at the man again, his name almost could be ‘Grumpy’ Emma mused to herself while she and Killian moved to the side of the aisle, letting the man pass. The grumpy man growled at them as he passed, which Henry tried to imitate. Both Emma and Killian apologized and tried to get Henry to stop growling, effectively breaking up their little moment. They both laughed at Henry, before continuing on their shopping trip. While neither spoke of their conversation again, it was in the back of their minds for the rest of the day.

_____________

“Yeah, we should be by to drop him off around 5:30. I’ll bring his pack ‘n play and all of his stuff so he can stay with you guys for the night, and I’ll be there to pick him up for his morning feeding tomorrow.” Emma said to David, while standing in his office at the precinct.

“Sounds great Emma. Mary Margaret and I are looking forward to some quality time with our little man.” David smiled, patting Emma on the back. She smiled and thanked him before heading out into the bullpen. It didn’t take a detective to realize that Emma and David had a special bond outside of work, but the detectives that were in their unit knew better than to comment on any conversation Emma and David had that wasn’t about a case. Emma’s partner Ruby was the only one to sometimes nag Emma over her conversations. This being the perfect time for Ruby to pry into her normally closed-off partner’s personal life. Ruby smirked at Emma as she left David’s office, and Emma just shook her head.

“Spit it out, Ruby.” Emma said with a smile.

“Dropping the little monster off at David’s? That must mean you actually have plans on a Friday night. Who are you?” Ruby teased.

“I actually do have plans on a Friday night. I know, shoot me.” Emma played along to Ruby’s questioning.

“And what might the normal home-body be doing on a Friday night that Henry can’t come and is going to stay the night at David’s?” Ruby pried.

“Going to a holiday party. You don’t really bring a one-year-old to holiday parties.” Emma said.

“Holiday party? Without David and Mary Margaret? And it’s not like we have a holiday party outside of having pizza delivered. Emma Swan, what holiday party are you going to?” Ruby asked.

“It’s with Killian’s coworkers. I get the lovely opportunity to be his ‘fake date’ for the evening.” Emma sighed, still wishing Killian would have just asked her to go with him as an actual couple.

“Oh. He didn’t ask you to be his real date?”

“No. He made himself very clear that it was just a one-time thing as his fake date since he always goes to the holiday parties alone and his coworkers mistook me for his girlfriend because I’m in some of his Facebook posts.” Emma said.

“Well, maybe it’s time you took this problem into your own hands and asked him out yourself. I mean, Killian practically fawns over you every time I have ever met the guy. And goodness knows you are head over boots for him.” Ruby said.

“Head over boots?” Emma questioned.

“We all know you don’t wear heels Emma Swan. Don’t take me for a fool.”

“Oh, well I plan on wearing heels tonight. I have no idea how that’s going to go.” Emma stated.

“Girl, you better make him swoon! Do you need help with your hair and makeup?” Ruby asked, suddenly very excited to see her partner and friend all dolled up for an evening out.

“No, I don't need any assistance. I know how to apply make-up, Ruby. I wear some every day.” Emma said.

“Alright alright, fine. You don’t need any help. But girl you better have him as your man when you come back to work on Monday!” Ruby excitedly said, before Emma’s desk phone started ringing.

“Detective Swan,” Emma answered, relieved to be through with the conversation with Ruby.

_____________

“Alright kid, I’ll see you in the morning, okay? You be good for Uncle David and Auntie M’s alright?” Emma told Henry, giving him one more kiss on the head before putting him down on the ground to toddle around. She gave David and then Mary Margaret a quick hug while thanking them again.

“You know we love watching him Emma! Go, you two have fun! Can’t wait to hear about the party over breakfast tomorrow morning!” Mary Margaret beamed.

“Breakfast? I was planning on just dropping by to pick him up.” Emma questioned.

“Oh, I figured we could go to Granny’s for breakfast so we can hear everything about how it went!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

“Just for the record, some of us don’t want to hear everything.” David grumbled.

“David! Stop being the protective big brother! Your sister is a grown adult and can manage herself just fine!” Mary Margaret scolded David.

“Thanks M’s. And Dad, we’ll be fine. Thanks for watching Henry, but we really have to get out of here if we are going to make it on time.” Emma said, before ushering her and Killian out the door and into Killian’s car.

“Sorry he’s weird. He just worries about me since the whole being-left-alone-and-pregnant thing. I mean, he’s worried about me since Ruth adopted me when I was seventeen, but it’s gotten worse since I got knocked up.” Emma said.

“It’s alright love. I know he’s just looking out for you.” Killian smiled. Emma had been through a lot of her life alone, but Killian was glad to know she had more than himself to care about and look after Emma. They drove the rest of the way in peaceful silence, before walking into the hotel where the holiday party was being held. They got on the elevator and headed to the 13th floor, where the actual party was being hosted in the event space in the hotel. Once on the elevator, Emma threaded her arm through Killian’s and gave him a soft smile.

“I never got to tell you that you look stunning, Swan.” Killian stated.

Emma blushed, before attempting to respond. “And you look…”

“I know. And thank you again for coming tonight. I hope you can marginally enjoy yourself. I mean, at least you know Belle and Graham.” Killian said.

“Yeah.Plus I met a few of them last year at your little birthday gathering. I know it’s been a while. Also, today at work Graham seemed pretty excited that I was going with you. I think he was dreading not knowing anyone but you and Belle.” Emma said as the elevators opened.

The first person Emma recognized upon walking out of the elevator was Will, Killian’s good friend and fellow history professor. Will helped throw Killian’s birthday celebration, so Emma had met him before.

“Killian! Emma! It’s bloody fantastic to see you two here!” Will said in greeting.

“Will, good to see you.” Emma said while giving him a side-hug. “How have you been?”

The party continued as well as could be expected for both Emma and Killian. No one seemed to think the pair weren’t together, besides the few that knew it was fake- Belle, Graham, and Will. Emma met all of Killian’s coworkers through the course of the night. Killian’s least favorite colleague- Walsh, was just as stuck up and obnoxious as Killian had warned. His wife Zelena, who was a physics professor, was also particularly unpleasant. Emma met Regina, the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. They ran into Tink and her boyfriend Jefferson, and Emma didn’t feel any jealousy at seeing the woman again. Tink asked a lot of questions about Henry, which Emma was happy to talk about. Emma also met Ashley, or “Cinderella” as Killian called her. Ashley and her husband Sean were kind, and Ashley seemed particularly excited to see Emma in the flesh. Ashley promptly invited Emma and Killian to come to the New Year’s Eve party she was hosting at her apartment. There was also Lancelot, a professor who focused on the history of the Middle Ages and the Medieval Time Period. Lancelot’s girlfriend Mulan used to teach history, but now focuses on her love for sports and is the Director of Athletics at the university.

Most of the evening was spent near Belle and Graham, who is a detective in Emma’s unit. Emma had introduced Belle and Graham after meeting Belle, and she was happy to see that Belle and Graham were happy with each other. Will also hung around them for most of the evening, as he was one of Killian’s closest friends and knew Emma. Most people were drinking a decent amount of alcohol, but Emma hadn’t had more than a glass of wine, and Killian had only had a glass of rum. Will, however, was quite intoxicated by the end of the evening. He was telling stories about Killian which made Killian blush and Emma laugh. Will was so caught up in his story and his alcohol that he slipped up and blabbed about Killian’s secret love for Emma.

“Yeah, well we thought Killian had grown a pair since then, but he had to beg Emma to come as his date because he won’t be a man and actually ask her out like he wants to.” Will slurred.

“Will!” Killian scolded, quickly getting up from his chair to try and stop Will from speaking.

“He’s so in love with Emma that he can’t see that maybe-” Will started again. Killian grabbed Will and physically dragged him out of Emma’s vicinity before any more damage could be done. Emma tried to ignore Will’s comments and act natural, tuning back to Belle and Graham. Not knowing what else to talk about, Emma asked Graham about the case they had been working on. When Killian didn’t come back to the table after a while, Emma excused herself to go find him. She thought he might be at the bar, downing some rum after Will spilled Killian’s secret.

After checking the bar, Emma noticed Killian was sitting at a table out on the patio, so she went outside to join him. Emma knew he could hear her approaching- her heels were not quiet- yet he didn’t turn around. She pulled out the chair that was next to him and sat down, staring out at the New York City skyline.

“You love me?” Emma questioned quietly after several moments of silence between the pair.

“Yes.” Killian responded, just as quietly as Emma. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but you and Henry mean everything to me Emma. I didn’t mean for this to go like this, I just-”

“Why didn’t you ask me out? We’ve been friends for what, nearly two years? You could have asked Killian.” Emma interrupted.

“I couldn’t risk that you didn’t feel the same. So, I have worked hard since I realized I was in love with you to pretend like I wasn’t, because I will gladly sacrifice my feelings for continuing to be friends with you and close to Henry.” Killian said with tears starting to form. He ran his hand down his face before taking a deep breath and looking at Emma. She looked surprised, and also looked like she had some tears forming.

“You traded your happiness for me?” Emma asked.

“Aye,” Killian responded matter-of-factly, nodding his head slightly to emphasize his point. Emma slowly leaned closer until her face was inches away from Killian’s, before leaning the rest of the way in and kissing Killian. After running out of breath, Emma pulled away shyly with a blush on her cheeks.

“I love you too.” Emma said simply.

“What?” Killian asked, stupefied.

“I love you, and I have spent the last two weeks wishing you would just ask me to come to this stupid party as your actual date. I don’t trust a lot of people, and I’m not good with words. But, I know that I can’t lose you like I’ve lost other people. I’ve been so afraid that you didn’t like me as more than a friend, and I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore Killian. I love you, and I-” Killian cut her off with a kiss of his own. The two embraced each other and reveled in their newfound intimacy. Eventually, the DJ of the faculty party announced that there would be one more slow song of the night, and the announcement effectively broke the couple’s passionate kiss.

“Care to dance, Swan?” Killian asked while offering Emma his hand.

“You know how to dance or whatever it is you’re supposed to do?” Emma asked.

“Of course.” Killian responded.

“Well, I’m taking off these shoes first,” Emma stated while unclasping her heels. “What am I supposed to do?” Emma asked after standing up.

“There’s only one rule: Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” Killian smirked. Emma blushed and smiled, but allowed Killian to dance and twirl her around on the patio.

_____________

“Hey, we have to check out a few addresses before I can get out of here. Do you think you could relieve the babysitter and watch Henry for the rest of the afternoon and evening?” Emma asked Killian over the phone.

“Of course love. I told you to let me watch him when I’m home, especially now that I’m done for the semester.” Killian replied before getting up from his chair and putting his shoes and coat on, preparing to go over to Emma’s apartment.

“I know, but just because we are dating now doesn’t mean you have to always watch Henry. He’s not your responsibility.” Emma said.

“He might not be my responsibility, but you must know that I love spending time with the lad. And watching him is not any trouble, love. I’m heading over now to relieve the babysitter. Text me when you are on your way home.” Killian replied.

“Okay, thanks Killian. I owe you big time. Love you,” Emma said. Killian smiled before telling her he loved her as well and ending the call.

_____________

Emma sighed as she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. She ended up staying an extra six hours trying to catch their perp before they finally caught him hiding out in an abandoned storefront. She smiled to herself knowing that Killian and Henry would be waiting for her once she got home. She quietly unlocked the door, making sure not to make too much noise in case Killian was putting Henry to bed or had just put him to bed. Emma heard Killian’s faint voice reading aloud upon entering her apartment, and followed his voice down the hall to Henry’s room. Both of her boys were so entranced by the book Killian was reading- “Papa, Please Get The Moon For Me”- that neither heard her standing in the doorway. She listened as Killian read, and saw Henry’s eyes start to droop. Just when Emma thought Henry was going to fall asleep, he suddenly pointed to something in the book.

“Papa.” Henry said.

“Aye lad, that is Monica’s Papa.” Killian responded, keeping Henry engaged in their conversation. Henry looked at Killian curiously for a minute before smiling wide.

“Papa!” Henry exclaimed, only he wasn’t looking at the book anymore. Henry’s sole focus was on Killian. “Papa!” Henry excitedly said again, before snuggling into Killian’s torso.

“That’s right Henry, that is your Papa. He’s the best Papa, isn’t he?” Emma said, making herself known to both Henry and Killian.

“Mama!” Henry squealed upon seeing his mother.

“Hey kid, I missed you today.” Emma greeted. Henry extended his arms asking to be picked up by Emma and she obliged, needing some Henry cuddles after her long day at work.

“Mama Mama Mama!” Henry babbled while snuggling his face into Emma’s neck.

“Yeah, Mama’s home Henry. Mama’s home.” Emma sighed, closing her eyes for a minute.

“Mama?” Henry said.

“Yeah kid?” Emma replied. Henry turned his head so he was looking at Killian before pointing at him.

“Papa. Mama, Papa!” Henry said.

“Yeah Henry, he is your Papa. You want to give Papa a few more snuggles before bedtime?” Emma said, trying to hold back tears that Henry finally called Killian by ‘name’.

“Papa Papa Papa” Henry babbled, reaching for Killian. Killian was silent through the entire interaction between Emma and Henry, but he was crying by the time Emma placed Henry back in his arms. Henry quickly snuggled up to Killian before falling asleep.

“Hey Papa. How was he?” Emma asked, letting her own tears fall freely at this point.

“He was good as always Swan. He called me ‘Papa’.” Killian said.

“Yeah, he did. And I can’t think of a more perfect title for you Killian. You know, you’ve been his ‘Papa’ in my eyes since the day you saved his life.” Emma said.

Emma had never felt fear like she did the day Killian called her, frantically informing her to meet him at the Children’s Hospital Emergency Room. Killian had thankfully been in his apartment that day, or Henry would have died. The babysitter was working on getting Henry to eat some soft foods, but turned away to cut another piece of banana and didn’t see Henry shove too much banana in his mouth. Henry started coughing, but ended up lodging a chunk of banana in his throat.

The babysitter had no idea what to do, and ran to Killian’s door with Henry, screaming for help. Killian immediately opened the door, saw Henry choking, and safely performed the Heimlich. The maneuver is different for an infant over an adult, and the babysitter didn’t have any training in the Heimlich for children. Killian, seeing the worry and stress in the babysitter’s face, told her to go home for the day and Killian assured her that he would take Henry for the rest of the day until Emma got home.

Once the babysitter left, Killian still felt uneasy about Henry in the aftermath of the choking incident. To be sure, he decided to take Henry to the children’s ER and called Emma on his way to the hospital. Emma immediately left work to go be with Henry and Killian at the hospital, and Emma was so relieved to find out that Henry was okay. Emma knew Killian had single-handedly saved Henry’s life, and she was not soon to forget it. From that day forward, Emma knew Killian would do anything for her son, and although she hadn’t actually talked to Killian about it, she began viewing Killian as Henry’s father.

“And, I know I told you a million times, but I feel like I never got to thank you, Killian.” Emma smiled. She walked over to where Killian was sitting in the rocking chair with Henry before leaning down and pressing her lips to Killian’s.

Killian smiled at her, before teasing Emma. “I could get used to that kind of thank you.”

“I’ll kiss you any time, but let’s not have another hospital incident. I don’t think I could handle it.” Emma said, stroking Henry’s soft light-brown hair. .

“Me neither love. That was one of the worst days of my life.” Killian reflected.

“Oh mine for sure. Let’s get this little man to bed and then I’ll really thank you.” Emma smirked.

_____________

“Mama Mama Mama!” was the first thing Emma heard in the morning. She rolled over to see the baby monitor and noticed Henry was contentedly babbling her name while sitting up in his crib. She looked at the time-6:45- an hour later than Henry normally slept in. It truly was a Christmas miracle. Emma quietly extracted herself from the strong arms around her torso and out of the bed so as not to wake Killian. She quietly made her way down the hallway to Henry’s nursery, where he was now babbling both “Mama” and “Papa” hoping for someone’s attention.

“Hey kid, good morning!” Emma greeted in a whispered sing-song voice.

“Mama!” Henry exclaimed as Emma lifted him out of the crib and snuggled him.

“Hey my baby. How’d you sleep?” Emma said, placing Henry down on his changing table so she could change his diaper. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” Henry continued to babble to her, and Emma dutifully nodded her head along and responded to some of his more question-like babbles. After changing his diaper, Emma pulled out a new Christmas onesie from the drawer.

“I think we should surprise Papa and put your new PJs on that he got you. How about thar? Should we surprise your Papa?” Emma asked Henry.

“Papa! Papa Papa!” Henry squealed.

“Yeah, I think Papa would like that too.” Emma replied, before putting his new PJs on. Once Henry was changed and clean, Emma carried him to the kitchen to turn the kettle on the stove on to make hot cocoa in a little bit. Then, she brought Henry back down the hall towards her bedroom and lightly set Henry down on her bed just as Killian opened his eyes.

“Well good morning little lad!” Killian greeted Henry.

“Papa!” Henry squealed before crawling across the bed towards Killian. Emma and Killian smiled, still not over Henry calling Killian ‘Papa’. Emma slipped back into bed under the covers before snuggling up to her boys.

“I figured we could cuddle some before starting our big day- Henry’s second Christmas.” Emma told Killian.

“That sounds like a lovely plan, Swan.” Killian smiled before pulling Emma closer to him and Henry.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. I am so glad you are here with us.” Emma smiled.

“Merry Christmas, my love. There is no place I would rather be than right here with both of you.” Killian replied. After some babbling for attention from Henry, both adults laughed.

“Merry Christmas to you too, kid. I am so glad I get to be your Mom.” Emma said, feeling more content than she had in quite some time.

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

Happy Holidays @sotangledupinit !!! 🌲⛪⛄❄️☃️

I hope you enjoyed your CS Gift Exchange Fic! This was my first fanfiction that I've written in many years so hopefully it's not too bad! Hope you have a lovely New Year and have been having Happy Holidays!!

[winns-stuff]

LO CONFESSION:

I won’t lie, about the reveal of the fastpass with Hermes and Persephone with Apollo coming back I really had a hard time feeling anything about it. I hate to even admit this because I understand about why this should’ve been a bigger moment and why I should at least be excited that Apollo is finally being dealt with I find myself lacking in all emotion about it.

Now before I say anything I wanna clarify that in no way am I saying “I don’t care that Persephone is confronting her abuser”, that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. I am glad that he is being dealt with and hopefully this time it will be by Persephone’s hands and Persephone’s hands only because I feel like since her trauma is so overlooked by the comic this could really be her chance to literally take it back and be in full control of it. I’m happy that he’s finally being addressed and I hope that the comic actually punishes him and not just let him off so easy like they’ve genuinely been doing this entire time. And what I mean by that is that Apollo literally has no consequences for anything, every time we’ve seen Apollo he’s gotten away with things and I can understand if the narrative writes it like that on purpose so that it’ll be realistic but at the same time it doesn’t feel like the narrative itself even wants to deal with him. His character gets slaps on his wrists not because it’s intended to but because they want to move onto something else, for the trauma he’s caused to be this great it doesn’t actually feel like it’s important and I hate that.

But back to my main point about Persephone and the red eyes. First off I just want to say that they should’ve just kept the red eyes for wrath and anger, I really do think it would’ve been more impactful since we know that that’s the only emotion that comes with it and this would be an amazing time to be furious. Second, I wish Persephone would actually look pissed off when the red eyes come on I hate that she’s always smiling and in a way yeah it could be creepy and unsettling but I just wish to see more range with it but that’s just a personal nitpick. Third off is I have a hard time taking them serious now, the comic has used Persephone’s red eyes and her anger in general as a joke so many times it’s hard to convince myself that this is actually something that won’t be taken as a joke. As much as I have hope that there won’t be any jokes made or implied both during this confrontation and after it I already know that LO has a very hard time taking itself seriously so I wouldn’t be surprised if jokes would be made even when it’s nowhere near necessary. Fourth is I feel like there was little to no build up to this whole thing, I don’t feel like this is what I’ve been waiting for and I don’t believe that this is even a big moment. There’s nothing satisfying for me about this confrontation and it genuinely upsets and disappoints me entirely, I feel like they’ll be no resolve or the resolve will just be very rushed and underwhelming which is annoying to me because I would like to see this situation finally have importance and be acknowledged as important by this comic.

I know how serious this conversation is and everyone else in the fandom does as well but I hate that the comic acts as if they have no clue why this whole thing is important. I don’t want jokes being made, I don’t want light atmosphere, I don’t want “funny faces”, I don’t want anything that would take away from the scene. I want this scene to be powerful and I want them to deliver true justice to Persephone not half ass it like they always fucking do. Which is why I’m writing this confession, I want all of these things to happen but I know more than anyone that I’ll be disappointed yet again by this comic. I know that they won’t give this situation any integrity or respect at all and I know they’ll treat it like it’s one big fucked up joke because they always do, and I’ll be the one left angry and upset because once again LO has failed to deliver what it’s promised to fans for the 1000th time.

[goosegoblin]

Tw:sh

I’ve been afraid to talk about this for a while but I’ve been getting disgusting intrusive thoughts about harming disabled people for like 7 MONTHS IN A ROW and it’s so fucking torturous to the point where I’m strangling myself because I’m so fucking horrified by my thoughts and the weird part is that Mom just brushes me hurting myself bc of my thoughts as attention

Hi. I love you.

The thing about intrusive thoughts is that they specifically find the shit that frightens or repulses you the most, and then they revolve around that. That's why they're distressing. That's why they're intrusive. They are things you do not want to be thinking about, and they are things you do not want. People who actually want to harm disabled people are not disgusted and horrifed by the idea.

You are not a bad person. You are not a danger to others. You are not doing anything wrong. You do not need to punish yourself. You do not need to be treated so cruelly.

I am so sorry about your mom. You deserve help and care and attention. Could you access counselling through your school at all? Alternatively, there are some really great resources online you could try and use until you're in a place where you're able to get help. Personally, I found thought defusion as a part of ACT very helpful.

You do not have to engage with your thoughts. You do not have to challenge or examine your thoughts. Your thoughts are the equivalent of internet trolls typing in all caps because they just learned a new video game has a woman in it. They are electrical impulses desperately being fired out by a sick, confused brain. They don't need to be listened to. They can just be allowed to exist. Your brain can loudly scream that you should hurt the disabled person next to you, and can calmly carry on with your work. It is not a moral failure to do so.

Something else that helped me greatly- and this one might be a bit more controversial on puriteen hellsite, but fuck it- is to understand that thought crime does not exist. Having a thought is not a violent act, and having a thought is not something that requires punishment. Thoughts are only 'dangerous' when they lead to action (and yes, this can exist in more subtle forms- how belief systems affect your schema and how you interact on a wider scale- but that is not what we're talking about right now).

What I mean by that last paragraph is this: let us imagine a universe- and I really cannot clarify enough that this is a hypothetical, we are not in this universe- where these were not intrusive thoughts, but were instead genuine urges to harm others. If you never acted on them, and worked to make sure those around you remained safe, then those thoughts/urges would be morally neutral. Thoughts are just thoughts. You cannot hurt anyone by having a thought.

I have found great comfort in that. I do not need to control the inside of my brain, and desperately search to figure out whether a single thought is intrusive or 'real'. It is okay to have these thoughts. You do not need to fight them. You do not need to fight yourself. You are not a bad or terrible person.

If that last tangent feels unhelpful, that's okay- you can ignore it. Urges and intrusive thoughts are, after all, not the same thing. Intrusive thoughts are not thoughts that lead to action, even though I know they feel very much like they could. You will not 'slip up' and become a monster. That isn't how this works. The last paragraph here is very good.

Once again, I love you. If I could watch your intrusive thoughts inside your brain in all their graphic disgusting horror, I would still love you. You are not your intrusive thoughts. They horrify you because you do not want to be having them. You do not have to hurt yourself over this.

[thegeminisage]

absolutely looove being able to teleport somewhere super high up and just dive to where i need to be. peak gameplay. anyway i'm going to SIGH the tundra

I MADE A BIRD...i made a bird with an engine and batteries!!!! it goes up and down!!!!!!!!!

oh man you could fly ANYWHERE with enough juice.....anywhere!!!

it's not great at ascending but STILL

maybe with more fans on the bottom next time, but i ran out of battery power...

BAH i missed the island i was about to drop onto bc of the blood moon >:(

oh my god this thing has a ZILLION tears on it and i dont have snowboots girl HELP

at least theres not a bunch of fucking lynels here this time, i thought, before getting attacked by a fucking bear

oh my god i FOUND IT........that took ages

ok. im bracing myself once more

SCREEEEAM. SCREAM. SCREAM SCREAM I AM NOT PREPARED

I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR WHATEVER THE FUCK. SHOULD I HAVE COME BACK LATER? I'M GETTING THEM IN ORDER FROM NOW ON THIS IS TOO MUCH

to clarify i have watched three seconds of this memory. i saw ganondorf and had to put my face in my hands and scream. ok. unpausing now. god help me

I

NEED

A

SECOND

no. wait. i need to watch that again

girl that was number TEN??????? oh my god. i'm literally gonna get a guide. in order from now on no matter WHAT!!!

first of all. FIIIRST of all. is sonia like....dead lmao rip lady

SECONDLY. i realize im having a hard time divorcing ganondorf from matt mercer. uh oh

ALSO THESE ARE THE SHOTS FROM THE TRAILER...maybe i was meant to see this now, given where it is placed...love a good nonlinear story. im still gonna try to do them in order though my heart feels ready to jump out of my chest

i still don't know if we're calling him "demon king" and he has the glowy hair and scaly look if this "counts" as demise. what a fun philosophical question. where does demise end and ganondorf begin??

he is sooo hot btw. im so sorry. he's so hot

nintendo was SO careful to cut out the zonai soldiers from the trailer footage...you'd never imagine it was from the distant past...i love how they all wear theee zonai clothes...i wish i could wear mine always

redeads WHEN btw

i thot that was the end of the cutscene but then HERE COMES RAURU........

YOU TOOK FOR GRANTED THE GODLIKE POWER YOU HAD IN YOUR HANDS..........girl thats literally the triforce. he made the TRIANGLE SYMBOL WITH HIS HANDS thats been zelda headcanon for sooo long

idk if it was anyone else's but it was mine. it was in my fanfic that i wrote when i was 14

"you tried to control me, rauru..." so i know nintendo would never give us good guy ganondorf but i am clinging to the scraps to build my own canon about it later. he sounds as though he was Wronged. im choosing to believe this

literally thot zelda was about to take a pic but she's just transporting them.........clever girl <3

but if rauru and sonia are both dead or about to die...surely they had a child who could go on to have children to eventually lead to zelda...so like is the baby human looking or. sorry this is just so wild to me. they literally didn't have to make him animal-like

ok i see a shrine nearby but then i am getting the HELL out of this tundra

[singlethread]

If You Want To?

This wasn’t the first time Buck and Eddie were mistaken for a couple and with the couple months they’d been going through, it seemed that maybe these strangers weren’t so wrong after all. If twice was a coincidence, and three times was a pattern, what does that make the fourth or fifth time?

ao3

Chapter One

Buck didn’t know why but people always just seemed to assume he and Eddie were together. What really seemed to confuse him was how anyone could think Eddie was anything other than straight. He knew that first impressions and appearances didn't always mean anything but he’d known Eddie for years and Eddie had never acted in a way to suggest anything else.

Buck had joined Eddie for parent-teacher conferences that night since Carla had gotten called away at the last minute for some family emergency. Eddie had called him in a bit of a panic asking for him to come with, which led to Buck taking her place. Buck knew how overwhelming some of the school stuff could feel for Eddie so he happily agreed to accompany him, which meant he got to talk about his favorite topic that night, Christopher. They ended the night with Chris’s science teacher, and she was giving a glowing report on his grasp of the topics that they’ve covered so far this year. Eddie had told the teacher that it was all because of Buck’s encouragement and his eagerness to help Christopher and Buck couldn’t help but beam at the unexpected praise from Eddie.

When the meeting had finished they both rose and walked towards the door, Eddie had quickly made his way through the exit of the room but the teacher stopped Buck before he could follow in suit. He still couldn’t get past what the teacher had said to him before he left, “I’m really glad Eddie has found such a good partner, you seem to make him and Chris really happy and I love when Chris shares the facts that he’s learned from you with the classroom.” Buck didn’t really know how to clarify to her that he and Eddie weren’t actually together, so he just thanked the teacher and gave her a soft smile before turning to follow Eddie out. Now he was lying at home in bed just replaying the night in his head. He and Eddie were just best friends so why was this the fourth time over the years that someone had seen them together and just assumed they were dating. Once again Eddie was clearly straight so he guessed none of this really matters, besides, sure he had thought about Eddie in that way when they had first gotten partnered together but that was forever ago. Buck had long moved on and his friendship with Eddie was way too important to him. He could never imagine doing anything that would jeopardize that.

He wished that he was working tomorrow, a good shift always helped him get out of his head, just being in the moment, not having to think about anything and just relying on instincts. Most of A shift was off for tomorrow but Eddie had volunteered to pick up some extra hours, which he had told Buck he was now regretting volunteering for with Carla currently being unavailable for the next few days. He knew Lucy and Ravi would have Eddie’s back tomorrow though. The one bright side of this situation is that Buck was going to get to watch Christopher after school while Eddie worked. That kid always managed to make Buck forget about the world for just a second and helped make him feel like everything was going to be okay.

When he rolled over the red glow emanating from his nightstand reminded him that it was getting close to midnight and that he had now been lying there for hours just lost in thought. He tossed and turned a couple more times trying to get comfortable, he missed having someone sleeping beside him but after what had happened with Jonah he knew that he and Taylor were over for good this time. They had been broken up for a few months now but it still hurt when Buck thought about how she had betrayed his trust. His family was hurting and all she seemed to care about at that moment was breaking the story that Hen and Chim had uncovered. She had helped them find more concrete evidence and also told them she wouldn’t go public with the information that they had all discovered together. She had looked into his eyes and promised him that it would remain off the record but apparently, the story was more important in the end.

He was tired of all of his relationships ending up this way, the partners he had cared about so much just leaving him behind in pursuit of their futures, futures that never seemed to involve him. Eventually, he managed to get comfortable, despite the empty space beside Buck reminding him that he was once again alone. He drifted off to sleep wishing that his past relationships would have turned out differently and that maybe in a different timeline he wasn’t alone in his bed.

—

Eddie started his day bright and early to make sure he had enough time to get Christopher through his morning exercises before they had to leave. At this point, he was just glad his shift didn’t start until a little later in the day so he didn’t have to ask Buck to take Christopher to school. With Carla on leave, so she could take care of her husband for the next few days, he was just going to have to learn how to manage without her, as he had done at the beginning of his time in LA. He was aware of how much he had grown to rely on Carla to help keep everything on track but he hadn’t quite realized just how much he relied on Buck as well.

He was really glad to have Buck with him last night, there’s this parent at Chris’s school that won’t leave him alone and despite his many, many hints she keeps bothering him. It’s not like she’s someone he would never like, he’s just not looking for a relationship right now. She tried to corner him last night while they were leaving but backed off when Buck came out behind him. He admitted that he was starting to get annoyed by her badgering.

He sometimes felt like he was taking advantage of Buck but then he would look at his face when he was hanging out with Chris and those worries would just melt away. He had never had a friend who loved his son as Buck loved him and it was one of his favorite things about him. At that thought, he decided he should actually get going for the day and he pushed the covers over to one side. He then made his way to Chris’s room and no matter how old Christopher got the sight of his kid sleeping and the peace of his face would always warm Eddie’s heart.

Eddie stepped towards Chris and rested his hand on his shoulder to help rouse him as he said “Christopher, it’s time to wake up.”

Chris groaned as he now did most mornings, Eddie knew it was because he was getting older but he knew exactly what to say to get Chris going. “If you don’t get up you’re going to miss school and then you won’t be there when Buck comes to pick you up.” Even though Chris’s eyes remained shut he couldn’t help but smile and Eddie couldn’t stifle the laugh that escaped his mouth at the immediate shift in Chris’s mood from the mention of Buck.

“Yeah that’s right, you heard me, after school you’re spending the afternoon with Buck while I’m at work.” This finally got Christopher to open his eyes.

“Can Buck and I get ice cream after school?”

“That is a question you’ll have to ask Buck when you see him but knowing Buck I doubt he’ll be able to say no to his best friend.” Eddie really did need to talk with Buck about learning to say no to Christopher but he also knew Buck would give him the world if Chris were to ask him for it and he couldn’t be mad at him for that.

“Best friend? But I thought you were his best friend dad”

“I think we both know that if you asked Buck who he loved more he’d pick you in a heartbeat and I can’t say I blame him.”

“I think he can love us both equally, dad.”

“You’re probably right, c’mon buddy, you gotta get ready, I’ll make you some breakfast and then we’ll do our morning exercises”

Chris’s face scrunched up the second Eddie said he would make breakfast. “Do you have to make breakfast?”

“Well you’ve gotta eat, I promise I’ll do something easy like toast and eggs”

“Okay, Dad” and with that Eddie left Christopher to get dressed and brush his teeth and Eddie headed into the kitchen.

Even though years of the military had turned him into an early riser, he still didn’t necessarily like it which meant coffee was still essential. He poured himself a mug and added some sugar and creamer and then got to work on breakfast. Eddie didn’t know why people were always so hard on his cooking skills, it’s not like he had ever started a fire and all the food he made was edible. He knew it wasn’t on the same level as Abuela’s cooking or even Buck’s but that didn’t necessarily mean it was bad. He got a pan out from the cupboard, clicked the stove on, and got to work on some scrambled eggs. When those had finished he portioned out the eggs onto his and Chris’s plate and grabbed a couple of slices of bread to stick in the toaster. By the time the toast popped up, he could hear Christopher making his way to join him in the kitchen, so he set the table and poured Chris a glass of orange juice.

Eddie spoke to him as they both sat at the table, “you know I met with your teachers last night and they were all really happy with how you’re doing in school, I’m really proud of you Christopher,” and Chris looked up from buttering his toast to smile at his dad.

After therapy with Frank, he was trying to be more conscious of vocalizing his feelings, he didn’t want Christopher to ever feel like he did when he was growing up. He and his father had worked out a lot of their issues now but it didn’t undo all the years Eddie felt like he wasn’t good enough, even when he was trying his best. “So I have work today, and I’ll be back late tonight. Buck is picking you up from school and then you two can spend the rest of the day together, does that sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan dad!”

They finished up their breakfast and moved over to the family room by the couch to start their exercises. Chris was having a good day and was making it look easy this morning so Eddie couldn’t resist and started trying to make Christopher laugh and distract him. He crossed his eyes and raised one brow and Chris couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re always so silly dad.”

“I’m your dad, it’s my job!” Eddic smiled at his son as he stood up, “come on Chris it’s time to get you to school.”

Christopher groaned for the second time that morning but he headed for the door with his dad. After locking up the house Eddie moved to help Christopher into the truck and buckled him in. He shut the door and got into the driver's seat. A few moments later they were backing down the driveway and out on the road. Traffic wasn’t terrible today so Eddie was able to get Christopher there early and Eddie watched as he headed into the school. Once he was safe inside Eddie shifted the car back into drive, pulled out of the student drop-off lane, and started the familiar drive to the station.

When he had arrived at the station he was slightly early and B shift was still working. Ravi and Lucy arrived shortly after Eddie and he was glad to be working with some of his usual crew. As the minutes passed more of C shift trickled through the doors and most of them got started on routine equipment checks. Captain Richards was in his office working on paperwork while he had the chance that morning. Eventually, B shift finished up and soon enough the incoming firefighters were the only ones remaining. Eddie was about to go upstairs for another cup of coffee when the station alarms rang and while he didn’t believe in curses, as they rode out onto the street there was this feeling he just couldn’t quite shake. Today was going to be a long one, he just knew it.

[usernoneexistent]

A/N: Hi, so welcome to the first stories in a mini series collaboration (name still in progress) that I’m doing with these wonderful ladies; @lifeofkaze and @the-al-chemist. Since this is a side project, there is no schedule so just be prepared for us to post our stories whenever and once all of them are posted, it will compiled into one master post.

Characters mentioned are Zadie - @the-al-chemist and Reva & Dylan - @lifeofkaze​.

Warnings: Anxiety, Learning differences - specifically dyslexia.

"Mr Ludwig, we really should stop meeting like this in my office all the time," The woman gave a stern look behind her round spectacles. This was Duncan's thirtieth (don't hold him on that) time this year alone.

Duncan caused some trouble again, more specifically, a prank on a group of third years this time.

He thought it was brilliant, truly. He and Duncan Ashe brewed up this new potion they had been working on for weeks. He wanted to brew this potion that combined a strong odour with an explosion. Not enough to properly harm someone but enough to give a fright. They had to be careful about the dosage, or else Duncan would end up well, like Duncan. It had been tested earlier that it was safe to use on others. With a combination of success and a bit of luck, some unfortunate Slytherins were the test rabbits. While quickly hiding in the cracks of the corridor wall in his octopus form. He revelled in the squeals and gags of younger students.

What he hadn't accounted for was the tabby cat watching him the entire time. Once the students left, he had left his haven, crawling to the floor. What a sight it must have been for anyone passing by. He heard a cough from behind which turned out to be Professor McGonagall, who watched the squeals in front of the third-years. Thus he ended up in the headmistress' office.

"Ja, vee should," The boy, slumped in the chair, said nonchalantly.

She sighed, "Usually for this behaviour, I would put you in detention however it seems you learn nothing there. On the contrary, you cause even more trouble."

"Zat ees a problem, Professor McGonagall," Duncan retorted back, proving her point.

"Indeed it is, that's why I have thought of something that could help you in what you lack." She said confidently.

Curious now, Duncan leaned in, "Vat ees it zat I lack, Professor?"

"Responsibility, Mr Ludwig." The headmistress states. The sixteen-year-old boy tilted his head in confusion, "I heard from your head of the house, during your career options interview, he mentioned that you have no clue what you want to do when you leave Hogwarts," She clarified.

"So, Professor," He shrugged, "Vy does it matter? I have all zee time in the vorld."

"Maybe you feel that way now but in ten, twenty years' time, will you still be pranking people? Who will pay your rent and your taxes?" She asked, clearly provoking the boy to use what's inside his head, in that thick skull of his, "These are things you may not have to worry about now but once you leave Hogwarts, it's a tougher world than you think."

"I haven't sought about it zat vay," Duncan gulped but kept his chill composure.

"Which is why you'll be helping out your fellow Prefects, since they seem to actually care about their future. They are currently busy studying which means you can help them with tutoring your fellow Ravenclaws." Professor McGonagall shrilled.

"Vat! Vy me?" He exclaimed.

"You said yourself, you have all the time in the world," She retorted.

Duncan was perplexed by the type of punishment. It doesn't sound like a lot of fun, that's for certain. He will be starting tomorrow after three o'clock for three students. Now that Duncan thought about it, he hardly knew the younger Ravenclaws. He was too busy throwing dung bombs and filling the boys' bathroom with frog soap to take in their faces and names.

The next day, he decided to see if he could join Tarragon and Zola for lunch instead of sneaking into the prefect bathroom to hang out with the resident ghost, Duncan Ashe. Duncan noticed the blue-haired girl from a distance at the Hufflepuff table, ogling at the hippie-dippie boy that was also Reva's brother Dylan not far from them.

"You vill burn a hole srough his head if you keep staring at him like zat," Duncan dryly commented as he sat opposite the two girls.

"But he's too cute not to notice him," Tarragon pouted.

"Tarra, I sink zee only people zat find him 'cute' is you and a flobbervorm."

Zola almost choked on her sandwich, holding back tears. Her muffled laughter slowly echoed loudly through the great hall.

"Zozo!" The Hufflepuff conveyed her Slytherin friend a look of annoyance. The girl struggled to swallow her food down but eventually managed with the help of water, "I'm sorry but that was just too funny!"

Tarragon eventually cracked a small smile but was still clearly upset about her crush being teased.

"Ludwig, are you gonna come with us to Hogsmeade?" Zola offered.

"I can't," He says curtly. He knows that McGonagall would make his life harder than it already was if he doesn't show up tomorrow.

"What did you do this time?" The girls asked simultaneously, suspecting that the school prankster was probably in some more trouble as expected.

"I have to tutor some younger students," He said as he sipped his beverage. The girls bursted out laughing, clutching their stomachs as if their sides were ready to burst open, "Ja, ja. Make fun of it all you like," He rolled his eyes.

Tarragon got a grip of herself first, "Sorry Duncan, it's that we want to make fun of you, but it's just so unexpected."

Always the diplomat, Tarragon. Duncan wasn't offended by it. He was aware of the absurdity. The only person who Duncan was ever so slightly terrified of them learning about his punishment was Reva. He feared that Reva would not shut up about it and run amuck.

"Tarra's just being nice," Zola smirked, "I actually think it's funny."

“Of course you do,” He rolled his eyes again.

***

Duncan met up with his prefect who usually partakes in the tutoring, and gave him a schedule. She seemed thankful for him helping her out. She probably didn’t get the memo that this was his punishment. She handed him a list to show when and where he to meet up. He only had to cover for three juniors. His first one was Zadie Taylor-Allen. Whom he was meeting up in the potions classroom down in the dungeons to aid with potions.

A girl was waiting patiently, her curly hair tied up. She looked around clutching tightly to her books. He approached her briskly, “Are you Sadie Taylor-Allen?”

“Um, it’s Zadie actually,” She said in a low voice, slightly shaky. He was certain that he said Zadie but mumbled out a quick apology.

“I’m Duncan Ludwig, I don’t sink ve’ve meet,” He introduced himself, offering out a handshake. Zadie reluctantly shook back, “No, we haven’t. I thought your name was Ludwig?”

“Happens often, I don’t care vat you call me,” He shrugged. Someone back in the first year who thought Duncan wasn’t a German enough name found his surname to be cooler and thus majority started to call him Ludwig instead, “Are you sure vee haven’t met before?”

The younger girl shook her head in response, evading eye contact.

He clasped his hands together, “So…let’s get started I guess. Vere are you now viz your studying?”

“We were studying wideye potion,” Zadie answered. Duncan raised his eyebrow in surprise that she struggled with such an easy potion. Although he was thankful that he knew that one off by heart.

She placed her books and laid out the 3rd year potion textbook alongside her notebook and quills. On top of that, her cauldron was ready too. Duncan realised how underprepared he was; he brought absolutely nothing, “Vat do you normally do during your studies?”

“Sometimes I practise in the potion classroom,” Zadie said, a little louder and less shaky, “But I need more help with my essays and written work.”

“Ah, okay um…let’s start viz…the practical zen,” Duncan was winging it. Honestly, he had no clue what he was meant to do but practical always trumps writing in Duncan’s books. Zadie looked a little relieved but still had a furrow stuck on her face, “Vat ingredients do you need?”

“Um…snake fangs?” She said, uncertain.

“Correct. Vat else?”

“Oh! Standard ingredient!” Zadie said excitedly, almost smiling that she remembered something. But furrowed her brows as she pondered hard over the last two, “Stingers…um I’ve forgotten what kind and sprigs.”

She was close but she needed to be more specific, “Sprigs of vat?”

“Um…” She trailed off. He couldn’t be bothered to give her time to think, “Sprigs of volfbane and billyvig stingers. Now let’s get the right amount of ingredients.”

She flipped to the page in her potions textbook, squinting her eyes at the ingredients list. Zadie got up and looked for the snake fangs first. She took her time, reading the labels carefully long and hard. She was so close to the glass bottles, Duncan wondered if she was short-sighted.

Duncan got the two sprigs of wolfbane, he figured that since he was a favourite student of Professor Slughorn that he had more access to rarer ingredients than a third-year would. Zadie brought back seven snake fangs, hold on, “Vy have you brought seven snake fangs?”

“It said seven in the book,” Her tone got more defensive. With or without the textbook, Duncan knew that she only needed six snake fangs. Even though they only meet today, Duncan knew something was off. Did she have a bad day or was upset with the change in tutors. Well, he wouldn’t personally blame her if that was the case. He reasoned that he too would be upset if he got himself as a tutor.

He checked the textbook again, “Nope, it says six but I can see you vould get zee two mixed up.”

Zadie got the standard ingredient but with six measures instead of four. Now, Duncan was really wondering if she is either blind or plain and simply dumb.

“Did you not read zee the ingredients list, it says clearly here zat you need four,” His patience was really being tested. If it weren’t for McGonagall, he would have run away by now.

“It’s not my fault that the letters keep dancing,” The girl yelled. She quickly covered her mouth, surprised by her sudden outburst, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Vell vy didn't you say zat your dyslexic,” He said cooly. No wonder the younger Ravenclaw was having such a hard time.

“Dyslexic?”

“Ja, zat vat it’s called when you struggle to read because the letters are moving, dyslexia right?” He scrambled through his brains. He knew that somewhere deep in his brain, he had a memory of him and his mother. She was preparing schoolwork while supervising his homework. It was different than usual and he asked her. She explained to him that some children have more difficulty reading and when they read that letters would dance. He recalled that she emphasised the fact they were not stupid but just needed extra help to catch up. The problem was that he had forgotten what exactly helped them.

“No, I have heard about it but I never got tested for it,” She quickly explained.

“Vell, let’s say you have dyslexia. It vouldn’t hurt to try out zee study techniques used to help people viz dyslexia,” He suggested. A glimmer of hope shined through in Zadie’s eyes. A possibility that there was something that could aid in her struggles.

“How do you know such much about this?” She questioned, she couldn’t but be a little suspicious that he knew so much.

“Oh, I learned it from my mot-” Duncan caught himself. He really didn’t want to start spilling his life story to someone he had just met, especially not about such a personal matter, “You know vat, it really doesn’t matter.”

Zadie didn’t press on the matter any further, “So what can help me?”

“Vell…I’ve forgotten vat exactly zey did but I do remember that it is too viz listening,” He trailed off.

“So, you're saying that you have no idea,” Zadie stated point-blank.

“No, no,” He shook his head, refuting, “I just know that instead of studying by reading, you do it by listening.”

Zadie lifted an eyebrow while her arms crossed to let him know, that she knew that was kinda making up as he went along. However, he was also one of the few people that’s actually taking her reading problem seriously.

Scratching his head, “Okay, let’s try for today zat I read out loud the instructions once and you listen to it.”

The girl gave the older Ravenclaw a confused look, “Your basically saying that I don’t read at all and just remember from listening?”

“Yeah, vell obviously you still need to read but for studying you do it by listening instead. It doesn’t hurt to try,” He shrugged, grabbing a hair tie from his pockets and tying it into a messy bun, “Let’s crack on zen.”

“I guess it’s better than being told I’m not learning,” She muttered under her breath. Duncan pretended that he didn’t hear that.

Duncan read out loud the instructions in parts, he realised quite early on that reading the instructions in one go would definitely not stay in even the smartest of heads. Zadie managed to follow carefully, albeit with the occasional mistake here and there, the potion was half-decent at best Duncan determined, but the girl seemed pleased with herself. He reckoned that if she was satisfied with the lesson and then to leave it there for now.

***

Later that night instead of sleeping, Duncan couldn't stop thinking that there was something, it was on the tip of his tongue. Unfortunately, none of his mother's schoolwork was saved. He was taken so abruptly by a stranger. It bothered him so much that even Duncan As he commented how distracted he was.

Maybe he just needed to improvise? He's certainly good at that. Summer will be here soon and he could research. What was he even thinking? Planning ahead for a tutee that he might only have until the summer holidays. But he couldn't help but feel that Zadie was let down by the education system at Hogwarts. As much as magic had improved lives, it was also so behind in matters such as the mind and any unseen disabilities.

He crept downstairs, finding a desk to not disturb his roommates. He had an idea but he needed the help of his father to acquire these items. Once sealing the letter and trip to the owlery at the crack of dawn he felt like he had a solution.

***

"Zadie?" Duncan tapped the shoulder of the younger girl, interrupting her conversation with the blonde-haired girl. He felt awkward, fully aware that a senior approaching a junior looked a little creepy.

"Duncan!?" She said surprised.

He nodded over the quiet corner, "Do you have a second? It's about zee tutoring lesson."

"Sure," she turned to her friend, "I'll be back in one moment Victoire."

Duncan handed her a package. Zadie accepted it.

"Um, so about your dyslexia. I sink I have found a solution," He explained, "Zere is a tape recorder so you can record yourself or one of your friends can read put loud and record it. It is a cassette recorder, wait do you even know vat a cassette is?"

Zadie nodded, looking at the package strangely that he manage to acquire such vintage memorabilia, "Yes, I do know what cassette is."

"Good, so once you recorded viz zee cassette, you can listen to it again in zee valkman. Zat way you can learn vithout reading."

Zadie grinned from ear to ear, "Thank you so much. You're actually a pretty nice guy."

Before Duncan could reply, a fifth-year butted in, "Oi, Ludwig, are you asking her out or planning on pranking the juniors again?"

Duncan inwardly sighed. He knew the fellow Ravenclaw but couldn't be bothered to actually remember his name, "Sorry to disappoint but I don't recall telling Dummköpfe my business. Also before you get zee wrong idea, I'm only helping her viz tutoring."

"Haha nice one Ludwig," He laughed before leaving them.

"I promise I didn't do anyzing to the package," Duncan tried to assure, "It was tempting but-"

"I believe you, you don't have to explain yourself," Zadie assured him back, "Thanks for all the stuff, I mean you didn't have to go through all that effort to help me out so much."

"Gern geschehen," Duncan grinned. Zadie understood what he was trying to say despite not understanding the language. She hurried back to Victoire.

What he didn't say was that he found it atrocious that she didn't receive more help from the school. She deserved that at the very least. Actually anyone struggling in similar ways deserved help. He found himself in front of Professor Flitwick’s classroom for the rescheduled careers advice.

“So Mr Ludwig, have had time to think over what you want to do after Hogwarts?” The head of Ravenclaw asked.

“Yes, I believe I do, Professor.”

[goji-pilled]

MK-S: Candeloro Journals number 7, and a link back to journal 6. Enjoy!

March 14: Yep, rats were hostile. And now I know what happens if I get tears in my ribbon arms: THEY FREAKING HURT!

I don’t know if it’s my nature as a witch, or if I was always this vengeful (never really had anyone or anything that hurt me so much it made me desire to hurt them back tenfold. I’m referring to physical hurt, and Kyubey can’t feel pain, though not for lack of effort on my part…or Homura’s, Oktavia’s, everybody. So he doesn’t count.), but I took Immense satisfaction in squeezing that abomination until it popped…or broke? It was more of a little bit of both. Strangest part-(I need to say this as I just wrote those two words. “Strangest part”…I’m a freaking sentient cloth creature, inside a non-Euclidean space in between the walls of my house, and I’m about to refer to part of a clockwork rat (sidenote, that actually could work as a name): HOW DOES ANYTHING STILL SUPRISE ME ENOUGH TO EARN THE USE OF “STRANGE”?!?!)

Where was I? Oh, strangest part (Nagisa, first quit spoiling the journal for yourself. Though I do thank you for acknowledging my wishes when I was having a personal rant/vent a while back. Second, and the main point, I’m not being a hypocrite with the use of word strange, that was commentary on how bizarre my life has ended up compared to what I ever thought was possible a few years ago.) was that it didn’t bleed blood. (Ugh, another side note so soon? That aside, since it didn’t leak blood, does that mean that “bleed” would be an accurate term? I don’t care enough to bother changing my writing style if I’m wrong, but…well, call me curious. Then again, we can say a leaky pipeline may be “bleeding oil”, so I guess as long as we clarify the substance we’re good. Hmm…I guess “we” refers to writers in general. Or maybe I’m writing as if I’m conversation to my future self if/when I look back at these.)

The creature bled a black substance. I believe it was oil some form of oil, but…it was leaking out of living, or at least once living veins. It looks as though this mechanical monstrosity cannibalized a former subject of the Rat King’s army. (Just realized not everyone uses that term like that; it wasn’t a machine that ate the rat, it was a machine built using or around the corpse of the rat.) Blood vessels used as plumbing to a mechanical heart, some sort of rusty pump. Bones used for their original purpose, and bolted to metal frames that gave it its extra bulk and newer claws. Skin really only covered most of the head, all of the back, but only bits and pieces of the front.

It’s a bit hard to role-play with my own curiosity about this thing. So many questions are flying through my head: Was this one of the actual rats in our walls? Who built this thing? Was it built or did it just sort of manifest into existence? Oh, yikes, are there more? That’s a scary thought. And quite frankly, I think I should be more horrified at how a dead body was used for a machine, since if you applied that previous statement to a human body it would be mortifying…but, I just can’t help but think about how cool this is. An actual monster, a creature to fight unrelated to a (another?) Witch or her familiars.

Oh, another question: would this thing still exist/work outside of the Expanse? (Loving how naturally that flows of the tongue/pen) Is this built to survive on its own, or is this place the only thing keeping it held together? Dang, now I think I get why some people like dissection in school; wasn’t sure why some people liked cutting things open, but now I think I see the appeal in satisfying the curiosity of discovering how something else works. It’s much easier to view it as unnecessary when someone else has already cut a creature open and documented their results.

Ribbon arm healed up well with magic. I was tempted to see what happens if I just shifted back to human form with it still torn, but decided against it; either it would heal or my arm would be split in half from hand to elbow. Could probably heal it still, but then I’d get blood on the floor, and it’s always hard to remove if I even can…why is that anyway? You know what, got my phone with me, I’m gonna google it…oh, after a first result on google not-so-deep-dive, apparently it’s because of the hemoglobin; the same stuff that causes exposed blood to clot also causes it to bind to surfaces. The more you know.

MK-S: Had the first half of that entry sitting around for a while now. Lost track of what I wanted to do next, so just a single day entry of Candeloro reacting to a new enemy and some of the thoughts running through her head. Hope this was fun to read!

NEW ENTRY LETS GOOOO

[mirasmirages]

Fall In Line - Four - Friend

First Previous Next

Contains: medical setting, chronic illness, superpowers as illness

"Five minutes."

"I know," the girl told the doctor and went to sit next to his bed. She was wearing scrub pants and a t-shirt, and her arms were bandaged. Her exposed skin had patches of what looked like old burns.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Christina."

Henry hesitated, waited for some sort of explanation that didn't come. "Henry," he said.

"Yeah! I have been asking to meet you for ages but they wouldn't let me. I'm glad you're feeling better. It gets boring to be alone here all the time, you know?"

"Yeah," Henry said, a little confused. He had been there for so long without seeing anyone else, he'd thought he was the only patient there. "Uh, who are you?"

"I'm Christina," she told him again, as if that cleared anything up. "But you can call me Chrissy. Everyone does, at least everyone I like. And my hero name would be Glitch, but I don't think I'll get to be a hero. I'm, you know. Glitchy." She spoke fast, smiling, underlining her words with her hands.

"Hero name? You're," he lowered his voice. "You're powered?"

"Yeah." Her smile faded. "Of course I am. Aren't you?"

"No! I wouldn't--the whole reason I got hurt is because of heroes! Of course I'm not powered!"

"Those aren't really opposites," Christina mumbled. "It's not like it's a choice."

Henry didn't like this conversation at all. What was she saying? That this was a hospital for heroes? That he was here by mistake? Henry didn't have powers. He would know if he did. He would have noticed. Right?

"I'm not a hero," he insisted. The thought of it made him nauseous.

"Okay!" Christina held out her hands as if to calm him. "Okay, you're not, I'm sorry. Please calm down. I don't think they'll let me come back if I upset you, and I could really use a friend around here."

Henry glared at her, then fell back against the pillows. He reminded himself of how bored he was here. Having someone to talk to was better than nothing, even if it had to be this girl.

"Fine," he said.

"Okay, thank you," she said. "Let's start over. I'm Christina, but you can call me Chrissy. I'm here because I'm sick, and they're trying to fix me."

"I'm Henry," Henry said, playing along. "I was in an accident, and I'm still recovering."

~

Christina visited Henry every few days. It was always the same doctor who brought her there, one Henry hadn't seen around much. She never stayed more than a few minutes at a time, which sucked, because their conversations were actually fun.

"I'm serious," Henry said, spurred on by the disgusted look on Christina's face. "The average human eats eight spiders a year in their sleep. I read it online!"

"I don't care if it's true, Henry, I don't want to know! Besides, there are no spiders in my room anywas, so I don't!"

"Hey, don't blame me! Statistics don't lie!"

~

Most of Henry's time was still spent on treatments and training. He could walk now, could cross the room without support, but he wasn't allowed to leave his bed without supervision. The one time he tried, doctors and security guards had come to his room to force him back to bed. They did something with his medicine too, leaving him all fuzzy for days.

His physical therapy with Jordan moved from simple rehabilitation exercises to actual training in a gym, weight lifting and yoga and walking on a treadmill while Henry swore up and down he would never run. Jordan just laughed and told him he was doing well.

~

"Henry, look!" Christina beamed as she pushed a wheelchair into his room. "They said I could take you out of here!"

Well, that was a surprise. "Out?"

"Well, no, not out out," she clarified. "Out of this room. You can come visit me for once!"

Two doctors helped Henry into the chair, and he let them, even though he would be fine doing it himself. He was sure he would be fine walking on his own too, but he didn't say anything. Not even when they secured his legs in place with belts did he protest.

Christina pushed him down halls and around corners. All the halls looked the same.

"This place is a labyrinth," he commented.

"You get used to it," Christina said, and came to a stop at a door that looked exactly like all the others. "Here we are."

She wheeled him into the room and Henry gaped. "You have a TV?" he asked, twisting to look at her. "Seriously? Who do I have to fuck to get a TV? I will do it, I'm serious!"

"That's not--" Christina sputtered, moving him to the side of her bed. "I mean--I'm not--I'm not sleeping with anyone. Even if I could, that would be unethical. Everyone here is at work."

"Relax, I'm joking," Henry reassured her. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction. "I just meant, you have a nice place."

The TV wasn't the only difference from Henry's room. There were a stack of magazines on the bedstand, and her pillows had pink lace trimmings. It wasn't much, but it was so much more than what Henry had.

"Yeah, well," Christina said, moving around the bed and adjusting the pillows. "I've been here longer than you. I guess it builds up."

She turned on the TV and chose a tape, a recording of a talk show for some reason.

Henry watched for a minute but something was bothering him.

"Hey, Chrissy?"

"Yes?"

"What did you mean by that? 'Even if you could'?"

She looked away. "We agreed not to talk about it, remember?"

Her powers. He remembered.

"Tell me anyway."

Christina paused the video and sat cross-legged on her bed, looking at her feet.

"So ... I have a power," she started, fiddling with her hands. "I can teleport, sometimes. But it's only short distances--inches, I mean--and I can't control it. So sometimes I kind of ... teleport into things? Like I'm stuck to my bed or a chair or my arm gets stuck in a wall." She pulled on her bandages to show her scars, purplish brown and textured. "I just have to wait to glitch back, and hope that the injuries won't be too serious. It's been fine, kind of, so far, but I'm not allowed to get too close to people, just in case."

"You're not allowed to ... to touch anyone? But what about treatments?"

"Sometimes they wear protective gear," she said, gathering her knees to her chest. She looked smaller like that. Younger. "Most of the time they just tell me what to do and I do it myself. It's safer like that."

Henry wheeled the chair so they were facing each other. He may not have a TV or magazines, but he was pretty sure his sessions with Jordan, those moments of human touch, was what kept him from going completely insane. Christina didn't have that.

"How long?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she shrugged. Neither of them knew how long they had been there. "But I'm guessing four years? It feels like ten."

Four years, of not being touched by anyone. She had never touched Henry at all, even though she seemed like the kind of girl who would hug her friends all the time. He just hadn't realized there was a reason for that.

He reached for her hands.

"Don't!" She jerked back. "Just ... don't. It's not safe."

Henry wanted to argue, to remind her he had access to the same treatments as her if something happened, but the tears in her eyes stopped him.

"Sorry," he said.

~

Jordan wasn't always there for Henry's workouts anymore. Instead, a security guard would take him to to the gym--always in a wheelchair, always secured with belts--and then he would do his weight lifting routine and his stretches on his own. He was supposed to be jogging, too, now, but he would always walk unless Jordan was watching.

Sometimes Christina would join him, although she never touched the weights. She only felt safe doing stretches.

"You know," she told him one day. "You're really strong."

Henry grinned. He was making progress. "Yeah! The treatments are working. I should be getting out any day now," he said.

"No, I mean," she hesitated. "You're really strong. I know you don't want to talk about, you know, but that's not normal."

Henry put the weights down. "There are people who lift heavier," he said. "Jordan can lift more.

"Yeah, but you're lifting nearly twice what you did last week. You have to have noticed--"

"I haven't," Henry interrupted. "I haven't noticed anything. There's nothing to notice. I'm getting better, and I'm strong because I work out a lot. That's all."

"Okay," Christina said quietly.

~

They didn't see each other for a while.

At first, Henry didn't care. He didn't want to be reminded of the changes he didn't want to notice. Because Christina was right. Henry was getting strong. Strong, and fast, and then Jordan was replaced with Brad, who was teaching him martial arts and parkour.  No one would tell Henry why he was doing it, but it didn't seem necessary for his recovery. If he was well enough to be learning these things, wasn't he already recovered? And if he was recovered, why was he still there?

~

A few weeks passed before Henry saw Christina again. He was alone in the gym, with only the guard watching him, when she poked her head in, beaming.

"Henry," she said, bouncing over to him. "Look!"

She brushed her hair back to show him the silver ring around her neck.

Henry went still.

"What is that?"

"It's treatment," she said. "They did it, Henry! I'm not glitching anymore!"

"That's a collar," Henry said. The ring laid tight around her neck, gaps in the silver showing green vials. "They put you in a collar and you're happy about it?"

"Look," Christina said, and took his hand. Her hands were small. Soft. She threaded her fingers between his. "It's a cure. I can touch you now."

"It's a--"

"Please," she said, putting her other hand on his cheek. "Please. This is good. I can touch people now. Please."

He looked at their hands. Now who didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay," he said.

He put an arm around her and held her against him. Her shoulders shook, and he stayed there, holding her, until she calmed down.

"I can touch people now," she said in a thick voice. "I can--they let me go outside. I hadn't seen the sun in years."

"Yeah," Henry sighed. It had been a long time for him too. He could see why she was happy about that. "But why the collar?"

"It's a serum," Christina explained and stepped back so he could see. "It neutralizes superpowers. They've been working on it for a while, but it wasn't safe to use until now. I need a little bit all the time, so this is to replace the IV."

But it didn't have to be a collar, he wanted to argue. It seemed significant.

"Just be happy for me, will you?" Christina kept his hand in hers and they sat next to each other on the bench. "This is good. I can have a life again. They talked about letting me move out of here."

Henry didn't feel good. "I'd miss you," he said.

"I'd miss you too."

She leaned against his side, and he put his arm around her shoulders. It felt nice, to be with her like this. Would have been nice, if not for everything.

"Henry?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Oh. He moved back so he could look at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Look," he said, searching for the words. "Chrissy, you're great, but ... I kind of ... like ... men?"

"I know."

"You know?"

She rolled her eyes. "You like Jordan. It's kind of obvious."

"It's not obvious," Henry hissed. "Besides, Jordan isn't here anymore."

"Sorry," she sighed. "I didn't mean to make things weird. I just wanted, I don't know. Something."

Henry put his arm around her again. "You didn't make things weird," he said, and kissed her hair. "I'm sorry I can't be the something."

They stayed like that until Christina's doctor came to pick her up.

She didn't come back after that.

Next

[its-all-a-moonage-daydream]

yes i had a bit of a moment but oh well. also year group group chats should be illegal i swear i’m so done.

(720 words)

isn’t it terrifying when people see you for who you really are. i’m not talking ‘they’ve realised i’m soft at heart when i try to act so tough’ or ‘i spend my life creating a new personality for each person i meet, but now someone’s broken through the walls i so carefully put up’. no, none of that cliché crap. i mean someone remembered i'm a little fussy about textures of food and i can’t even remember their birthday. someone knows the names of all my cousins and i don’t even remember the name of their cat. people see you and understand you better than you understand yourself. and that’s terrifying.

you can live in your head, lie all the time, and be someone who most people don’t even know the name of, despite being in the same year group as them for 5 years, and yet still people will get you a birthday present which you mentioned you wanted once 7 months ago. 

(to clarify, i don’t know their names either and i have been given a birthday present which i mentioned in passing multiple months before twice - the first a mirror and the second a record - both of which someone else had already bought me leading me to live with utter guilt and shame as i pretended this had not happened.)

the constant fear at this fact of life is something i have only just discovered, and that is why i have decided to restart. for what is the point living as a person who will remember nothing about you, someone for which it will take weeks to even feel comfortable calling you by your name, for fear it is wrong. you could tell me the same story once a week and i will only recall the fact that i have heard it before, not what comes next. and all this is simply due to the fact that i do not care. nothing to do with being a generally forgetful person, although this is true, but instead i just do not care enough about maintaining a close relationship with others, despite the biological wiring to not want to be alone.

and so i am restarting.

in an age where robots are threatening to take over the world, this may seem an apt word choice. as i have started working to restart the way others view the world. i am constantly told that to fix things you must turn them off and on again, so why not apply this philosophy to a faulty world, where people’s lives are dictated by their social abilities more than anything else, a world in which hitler could come to power due to his charisma and people lose themselves in fantasies of having friends.

i see nothing wrong with my current level of human companionship, and i got here perfectly well without feeling the need to know anything about them. i have what people call friends, but i do not have to put in any effort. they do not seem to mind so why should anyone else.

why should we spend spend our lives trying to be someone others would like to be around, and instead neglect becoming someone we would like to be around ourselves. we have to spend much more time with ourselves than anyone else has so i think it would be significantly more beneficial.

i am now no longer standing in the middle of the icy fog which descended on this earth at 19.21 this evening, and am finally able to see my more than the faint glow of my phone as i furiously typed from my perch on a low wall in a park surrounded by darkness and the blare of a voice coming down my headphones teaching me about donna tartt. i am instead thawing in a painfully hot bath as i try to strip away all thoughts from my head, and so am coming to terms with the idea that maybe it’s ok for people to make the choice to remember things about their friends, and that does not cause a social obligation for me to do the same if they are happy for this to be.

never mind i have been added to a year group group chat and i hate humanity again.

[fuckingfinwions]

More mindbroken geodes, with Maedhros in the palace in Tirion

Fingon listens to Maedhros's story, while Maglor is taking notes as fast as possible

Maedhros initially starts the story at Fingon buying him from Angband, because that explains what Fingon does to him.

Then he has to backtrack to what things were like in Angband, and why he got captured

Maedhros reveals that he was king briefly? And that half the Noldor thought Feanor was king before him???

Fingon is very used to thinking of the Feanorians as the town whores, them having power is way weirder than Maedhros not having a Thing.

Maglor is noticing that the story still doesn't explain everything, but he's writing it all down. And already thinking about how to spin it so his father and brothers are energized, but Fingolfin doesn't think they'll defy him.

Fingon doesn't quite get why he would pay an irreplaceable cloak to get Maedhros. Sure, Maedhros is the prettiest Feanorian whore, but less so with those scars. Though they do give him a certain roguish appeal...

Maedhros concludes his story with "I'm sorry for telling Celegorm that you fucked me. I accept whatever punishment you wish for breaking the rules."

"Why would I care what you tell Celegorm?"

"You said that I shouldn't tell anyone that you fuck me."

"Huh, that's funny. Are there any other rules?"

"Don't fuck anyone else. Don't touch anyone else. Don't leave the room..." There are quite a few. Maedhros interprets everything his Master says as an order, even when dark!Fingon didn't mean to for once.

This Fingon gets bored before the end of the list. He tells Maedhros there's no punishment, he can go back to normal duties.

Maedhros thanks Fingon, and immediately kneels next to Fingon's bed. Fingon is in an odd mood and Maehdros doesn't know if Fingon wants him tied on the bed or to crawl around following him, but kneeling next to the bed gives Fingon options.

Fingon clarifies that he means Maedhros's normal duties of pleasuring anyone who sees him in the palace.

Maedhros is ready to walk out into the hall naked, determined to do well at this task Fingon gave him even though Fingon has "never shared him before."

Maglor dares to interrupt asking Fingon if he's sure he wants the whole palace - and soon the whole city - to know that Maedhros has false memories of being king? "It seems disturbing to public order, even if only a few very stupid people decide to argue the point."

Fingon tells Maedhros not to talk to anyone except the royal family, and Maedhros's family. There, solved.

"They will still notice something strange, your highness. Even though most people don't pay much attention to the details of my family members' bodies, most of the city has seen us naked by now and may wonder at his scars. In addition there is the same thing you noticed, that he has no Thing, and may be barely elven at all."

Fingon admits that this is a problem.

If Maedhros still made geodes when people used him, they could just cage his cock so he couldn't come. But the problem is the exact reverse.

Fingon instead asks Maglor to hand over his notes, and Fingon will discuss the matter with his father. And possibly the Valar, to confirm this isn't an illusion of Irmo's and everyone's about to get in trouble for disrespecting a Valarin envoy.

In the meantime, Maedhros will wait in the Feanorian quarters. Fingon writes a note saying Maedhros is under orders not to pleasure anyone for the next half hour, that's more than long enough to walk across the palace.

Maedhros is disappointed that Fingon is sending him away, but at least he still belongs to Fingon. Fingon has always been so kind.

And apparently the problem before where Maedhros's family would try to take him away if they found out has been solved! Maedhros is so happy that Fingon and Nolofinwe figured out a way for Maedhros to see his family again.

He's not clear on how they got back to Valinor, or how Feanor and Finwe came back to life, but overall today is shaping up to be a very good day.

(Maedhros isn't an idiot. He can tell that Fingon doesn't remember buying him, or doing so many other things to him. But people forgetting things happens a lot around Morgoth. You can't panic every time the Dark Vala or a dragon decides to mess with not even your mind, but someone else's - there'd be no time in the day for anything else! Besides Fingon seems happy, and that's the important thing.)