#she encounters other people and is overwhelmed but tries to be 'normal'

[taz-writes]

object memories

A fic I wrote as part of my D&D druid’s backstory that I’m in the mood to share. Do you ever write something for the sole purpose of splashing around in your own prose like a dog in a kiddie pool?

TLDR: POV character Hush and her father were held prisoner by a cult for 10 years in solitary confinement, before being ritually sacrificed. Unbeknownst to the cult, Hush wasn’t quite dead and woke up later in the mass grave mortally wounded but alive. As a druid, Hush can shapeshift into animals if she’s seen and studied them before. This fic is about how she 'discovered’ her first four wildshapes in the aftermath of her ordeal, while learning to survive alone in the wilderness and fend off the hunger that threatened to consume her.

~4,600 words; CWs: gore, animal death, take ‘em seriously I’m not kidding around. I feel like there’s also something going on here with the hunger stuff, but I truly don’t know what the fuck to even call that CW. If somebody knows, let me know lol.

The rat was the first. 

She doesn’t know exactly when she reached the tipping point, but she grew intimately acquainted with the ways of the rats over the years. She spent an eternity in that dungeon, curled in the corner among her clinking chains, feeling them scurry over her in her sleep. Grew acquainted with how they move, how they think, grew used to fighting them away from what little she had to eat, bartering with them for the space, for help to stay clean, teaching them to bring her things. She watched them for generations, while they nested in the dirty little pallet that she slept on,  until they were closer friends than she’d ever had among humans. 

She knew them, inside and out, long before she knew how to change into anything. When she awoke in the aftermath and the wildshapes came, the rat was like a second skin. She slipped into the shape like a shield, slick with blood, and slithered out with the last of her breath. 

The world outside was big. 

She couldn’t heal. The first word she spoke when she took her given shape again was a rattling, empty gasp that sent sticky gore oozing through the feeble scabs over the gash in her neck. It didn’t matter how desperately she grasped for the language, how well she knew the incantation, how crisp and adamant the gestures were that should have saved her. There was no magic without sound. And her angelic heritage did little to help when whatever the source of her limited innate healing, it simply didn’t respond. 

She spent the first week or so in the glade on the edge of the forest where she collapsed after running out of time as the rat. The summer heat broiled her skin, even through the shield of the canopy, leaving her parched and aching and crisp like a dead leaf. In the haze of exhaustion, she began to treat her wounds. 

The sacrificial shift they’d dressed her in shredded easily. She wound long strips of it carefully around her waist and chest, stomach churning at the horrid sight of the injuries, and tied the rest as tightly as she could across her ragged neck before the pressure made her choke. Every motion left her dizzy and sick. She might have laid there on and off for hours or days or a month, languishing in the softest patch of moss she managed to find and dragging herself back and forth from the clear little stream that burbled a few yards away. As many moments as she could, she hid behind the rat again. The rat wasn’t bleeding. The rat was safe. The rat could forage, devouring whatever it could find, just enough to sustain her. 

She learned the rabbits next. 

Timid creatures, cautious and quick, they watched her with their wide beaded-bright eyes and darted to safety at the sound of her rattling breaths. While she waited to recover her strength between wildshapes, she watched them back, tracking the little families back and forth among the wild grasses. They were solitary, but not alone—never truly alone. 

There was a nest not far from her resting place. She stumbled across the babies on her way to the stream. Their tiny forms huddled together in a depression in the grass and she looked one in the eyes and its little ears trembled, it tucked itself deeper in the shadows, bracing, and a sudden knife twisted in the center left of her stomach. 

It took too long to realize it wasn’t the wound this time. 

Her sunburnt skin ached desperately, throbbing to the rhythm of a heart that wasn’t hers. She fumbled past to the edge of the water and dipped her face below the surface, where the chill could bring her to her senses, but the soft curves of the current brushed their way along her cheeks like the perfect ghosts of her father’s hands. 

Her lungs burned before she came back up for air. 

The next time she changed, the new shape was a rescue. She was a stranger but she smelled like the glade, and the other rabbits allowed her there. In the shadowed night they huddled together, warmed by each other’s skin, and her tiny rabbit’s heart began to calm as it hadn’t before in a very long time. 

She couldn’t remain forever. She was keenly aware, the longer she lingered, that she was far too close to the cult. Any member could stumble across her here, out on a forage or traveling to the compound, and she wouldn’t get another chance at freedom. She couldn’t risk it. When her stomach sealed enough that the insides of her abdomen didn’t spill to the outside after any major movement, she staggered to her feet like a newborn fawn and began the journey. 

She stuck to the woods. Waterdeep was a death trap, anyone could be cult-aligned, anyone could see her and they thought she was dead but she couldn’t know who might know her face. The roads were too much of a risk, populated as they were. Stealth was her only option. The angels guided her when she slept, teaching her how to find north and south in the stars, how to know clean water from stagnant, how to name the leaves and berries around her and tell which ones were safe. She treated her aches with willow bark and bandaged herself with buffers of soft clean leaves. She passed the days in the shelter of her animal forms or huddled in the shade, thinking of anything but the black spots that swarmed intermittent in her vision and the weakness in her limbs. She stayed alive. It was a near thing. 

When the berry season faded, and the leaves began to turn, the hunger snarled in her like a wild beast. 

She stumbled to the nearest town under cover of night, shielding her body with her arms, following the smell of something delicious she couldn’t name that made her gut twist with starving, nauseous desperation. It was too open, the streets too broad, but every building’s door loomed and narrowed and filled her mouth with the suffocating taste of molding earth until her heart pattered the way it did in the rabbit’s body and the outlines of the structures blurred and blackened before her eyes. A too-cold breeze swirled through the streets and she shuddered from head to toe. 

There was a man ahead in dark robes that swirled and her heart moved like rabbit’s feet fleeing in her ribcage. She forced herself to the alley, forced herself back, and bolted into the safety of the sacred darkness. 

It was like that at the next few towns, too. There were kind people, here and there. One gave her a soft dark shirt and soft dark pants when she met him in the night, thrust them at her and skittered off when she tried through rattling gasps to ask if he wanted payment; a few innkeepers let her stay the night and gave her meals in the morning that softened the hunger’s brutal edge. But it couldn’t last, because the figures in the alleyways always came back, and names that she remembered from another life haunted her until she fled back to the safety of the trees. 

The days grew colder. 

The woods were safer further south, deep and dark, filled with birdsong and the golden colors of the waning year, the colors bright as life. She’d taken a sharp rock and cut a stick to hold her weight, easing the pressure on the days when walking was too much. Her breathing was growing easier, and her neck didn’t bleed anymore. But the words that would call magic to her side still couldn’t find their way from her mind out through her lips. 

She was losing strength. The angels taught her traps and snares, but her feeble hands couldn’t tie the knots tight enough, and the few beasts she trapped slipped free when she tried to claim them. The herd of deer that once bolted at the sight of her now didn’t even flinch, the great many-pointed stag that led their numbers watching her passively while his mate and children drank at the riverside and foraged from the dying grasses. There was little to forage and less to live by, and some days the wavering mists of exhaustion hardly left her vision. 

Sometimes, on the nights the angels didn’t come, she dreamed of the stag instead. Of his glinting eyes in the brush, watching her, unafraid. She murmured prayers in the morning to whatever forces listened. 

She met the wolves in the pits of a moonless night, by way of gleaming golden eyes and an uncanny silence sweeping over her resting place, and she knew they’d come for her. She resolved herself to at least go down on her feet. 

When the first wolf lunged, she lashed out with her staff, squeezing her eyes shut against the wave of fatigue that swept through her body from head to toe and sent the blood rushing out of her head, and felt herself make contact. The beast yelped, and she blinked spots from her vision just in time to fend off a second, sending it sprawling across the scrubby ground. Her hands shook.

“Please,” she tried to rasp, though nothing but a helpless wheeze came out. The wolves paced. She shifted back, making space, feeling acid adrenaline spread slow like venom down her arms and into her fingertips, biting back the way every motion tore at the scabby flesh of her still-healing abdomen. 

The wolves kept pacing. In the dark, they moved like dancers, every footstep intentionally measured. Silent, despite their size, dwarfing her with heavy bodies—direwolves, not just wolves, but their largest and most vicious cousins. 

Her stomach growled with a ferocity that nearly sent her to her knees. 

The third wolf lunged. She grasped for the little magic she knew, one of the rare spells that remained without her voice, and scared it back with a shard of ice that burst into bitter steam across the pack. Its yelp was piercing and sharp and left her dizzy. Through the haze as she recovered, she watched the wolf pack flee. 

She dreamed of the stag that night. She dreamed of blood and the careful steps of hunting beasts, tender in the foliage. She dreamed that she staggered to uncertain feet and the stag was there, his muzzle nudging against her arm, strong and stable, as she found her way upright. She wrapped her arms around him. He was warm and smelled of musk and the gentle decay of the forest floor in fall. He didn’t flee. His fur was soft like the velveteen skin of something whose name she’d forgotten, a precious something she’d loved in another life, beyond her memory, behind the veil of the endless dark. She awoke grasping for it, the name on her lips but not close enough to catch it, even if she’d had the voice to speak. 

She dreamed fitfully, in bursts, interrupted by the empty claws of a hollow stomach scratching at the inside of her vessel like nails on slate.

The next day, something whimpered in the bushes when she went to change her bandages at the stream. She braced herself against her staff, and nudged aside the leafy branches, and found the wolf. It was panting,  golden eyes glazed grey with pain, curled up defensively with hackles raised. It growled at her approach, but the sound was weak, and tapered to a whimper. 

Near its feet, the ground was muddied with black-red blood. She traced the line from its paws to the place in its side where the fur was shaved down to muscle and a thin line of bone. The ghost of a spell and an icy projectile flashed across her memory.

Her hands were shaking again. 

She went to the water. This stream ran clear and cold, down from somewhere in the mountains, carrying the mineral taste of glaciers high above. Flakes of mud and blood trailed free from her hands when she dipped them in the current, and she watched them swirl away through the eddies and whorls. 

It was all mechanical, in the end. She pried a piece of moss from the bank, hefted it, ran it through the water and watched the dirt run off the roots towards the valley. Washed it clean, squeezed it under the surface and watched it fill with water. Stood and turned back to the forest. 

The beast didn’t calm, but it didn’t bite when she pressed the pad of moss as gently as she could against the gash. It snapped, and she looked it in the eye, waiting. Its jaws were wide, teeth yellowed and worn from use. It could tear her to ribbons even now, if it had the nerve. She wouldn’t last long. 

She washed the wound, and padded it with clean dry lichen, and flinched when she touched the beast’s side and a warmth filled her fingers that hadn’t answered her since she first returned to consciousness in the grave. She caught it like a soap bubble, soft as a memory. It settled in her chest and the breath that filled her lungs was deeper than she’d had in years. 

She’d forgotten how it felt, when the warding darkness at her center answered. When the healing power in her blood responded to her call. 

She forgot it again when the hunger returned in a wave of dizzying force, chasing all other thoughts from her mind. The wolf, rising from its rest in the hollow, tilted its head with a calculating glint and watched her. Gold eyes met gold. 

It turned to follow the water, limping ever so slightly, and padded off. 

She followed. 

The pack was waiting in a stony cavern where the stream met a sparkling river. She felt their wary gazes long before she saw them, hidden as they were among the warm grey stone. But they recognized their lost member and pounced on him, tumbling together in a massive joyful bundle over the sandy patch of riverside, and before long it was like they hadn’t even seen her. She found a bright place on a rock by the shore, and waited for the sun to warm her bones more than the hunger chilled them. 

Across the river, the bushes rustled. She knew what she’d see there. 

The stag disappeared into the brush, and her vision blackened. 

She awoke to the hot wet stickiness of a tongue on her face, and flinched, recoiling from the threat. In front of her sat the injured direwolf. 

“Hi,” she whispered, bracing herself. “Hi there.” The words stuck in her wound and scraped. 

The wolf cocked its head, stood, and licked her face again. It… did not try to bite her head off. This was not a situation she had anticipated. She particularly did not expect to be licked a third time. The wolf’s breath almost made her faint again. 

Behind the wounded animal, the packmates slunk forward, watching her. Waiting. 

The hunger in their eyes was a mirror of her own, and the shapechange came in its aching wake. 

She followed them, that night, in a wolfish skin that matched their own. It wasn’t long before she had to pause, the time limits of her wildshapes forcing her back to rest while the pack moved on, but the howl carried on. They didn’t like to leave their own behind. She learned their faces—the mother the first to lunge, the father the second, the grown pups that followed them with their own faces and minds and hearts. They walked the trails of the forest, and she learned their gait, their stalking dance, their silent patience. 

She slept between great warm bodies, and dreamed of blood and meat and the beasts that once wore the bite-marked bones on the floor of the den. 

In the days, she jostled with the pups as one of them while she could. When she couldn’t, she rested on the rock by the river, while the echoes gnawing in her stomach dueled the white-hot claws of her bone-deep scars. She scrounged late-season eggs from a duck’s nest and swallowed them raw, on her hands and knees in the riverbank mud, eggshells scraping her gums and spilled yolk staining the ground, and coughed up half what she found when her scarred neck screamed with pain from bending low. It staved off the ache for an hour. She scraped up the spilled remains in her hands and wept. 

On the fifth night, she followed the pack to a valley full of marsh-weed, where they found a limping boar. The pack struck in a whirl of fur and fangs, iron-stink staining the water. They fought her back from the bounty until the leaders took their share, but the scraps she claimed sated something, hot and vicious in the pit of her gut. 

It was enough for a day. 

She dreamed of it after, the blood that dripped from her fangs, the viscera on her tongue, the hot iron taste of it, the texture of muscle rending against her jaw. The heat on her lips and gums, bone crushing and crunching and cracking in her grasp, the relief like a soft warm pelt at the end of a long day’s journey as the soft squishing prey slid down her gullet like a prayer… 

She dreamed of it night after night after night, waking with saliva in her mouth, thinking of it between the angels’ words, the ghost of that sensation dancing through her mouth in all her forms. She sat by the river and echoed it, conjuring up the giving resistance of flesh under her teeth, biting her tongue till it bled to remember the taste. She dreamed of nothing but. She dreamed even in her waking hours, as the first autumn frost laced over the land and the pack sat full and happy from the hunt. 

She dreamed of it until the dream consumed her, empty of everything but teeth. 

She left the den on an ice-bitter evening under ponderous slate skies when the dull weight of the thought hung heavy like an overripe fruit, when she wondered what the wolves would feel like beneath her fangs, if their heavy furs would rip and tear the way that scrap of boar did or if they’d linger in the teeth and scratch and bristle. She slunk up the hill to the north on the pack’s favored trail, filling her muzzle with the scent of heavy musk and petrichor. 

The stag was waiting. 

His antlers glinted in the cold dead moonlight, graceful as a halo, round as the crescent moon. He turned his head. She met his eyes and lunged. 

She tore out the flesh of his neck like pages from a holy book, paper beneath her fangs as his blood ran like wine at a ritual. His stomach opened just as easily, staining the fallen leaves in garish scarlet, and his legs kicked feebly as she tore through the viscera that spilled free, relishing in the iron stench. Mouthful after mouthful, she ate her fill. She tore through muscle and tendon until she finally sank her teeth into his bright-hot heart and swallowed it in shreds. It might have still been beating, or the pulse between her jaws might have been her own, racing and vicious. She felt every piece reach her stomach, filling the void, hot in her chest like a hearthfire, bright as a star, sweet and tangy in the wolf’s senses and prickling in her own. 

She hunted the liver down among the mess and swallowed it next, and the kidneys, and parts she knew no name for that glistened red and pink and sickish yellow in the light. She savored the feeling, the soft wet warm of it, the taste of the life that would fuel her own. She pried out the lowest of his ribs and it crackled in her jaws and she chewed out the marrow until there was nothing left of worth. 

She didn’t know when he stopped moving, only that eventually, he did. It took too long. 

When the wolf’s stomach filled, she lost the shape and scrabbled at the stag with her own weak human-shaped hands, her fingers shaking, nails digging into the slickened meat for purchase and prying up scraps to devour. She shook and shuddered and buried her own face into the stag’s shattered chest, drinking the lifeblood until it dried sticky on the edges of her skin, until she was full, until her aching stomach silenced and stopped and grew bloated with bleeding flesh. 

She raised her head and her gaze caught upon his eyes. They were wide, and glassy, and milky with the haze of death. 

She turned away from the kill and threw up nothing but bile, choking on the taste of steel. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, too hoarse for anyone to hear, shuffling to the side and cradling his head in her lap, the warm blood filling her soft dark pants and seeping through to her skin. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you.” 

She leaned over him, wrapped her arms around his neck, curling her fingers into his short soft fur. Velveteen. Buried her face in his, her eyes hot and stinging, she swore she felt the ghosts of hands in her hair as the blood dried sticky on her face and melted down her cheeks. She clutched him tight enough to strain the scabs down her chest and belly, threatening to once again reopen the wounds. And she stayed there, waiting, until nothing came. Her stomach was quiet. 

As she rose to her feet, she carefully bent and lifted as much of the stag as her body could manage. He was lighter than seemed fair, even to her haggard limbs. 

Her hands didn’t shake. 

There were hunters in these woods. The angels had told her, murmurs in the night, between the endless thoughts of hunger. They could help her. She stumbled through the brush, dragging the stag behind her, listening for someone larger than herself. 

In the hours before the dawn, she found a young man in the valley, carrying a crossbow and a knife. He stiffened at her approach, and stood there wide-eyed, watching. 

The words she spoke to explain herself died in rasping whistles in her throat, but still he watched, rapt, his eyes darting between the stag and her own face. 

“You… you killed that?” the man asked, gesturing. 

She nodded. Her neck twinged. She felt the man’s gaze skirt over her scarred neck, her hands slick with blood, the wrinkled scabby mess of her stomach where it was visible between the hem of her shirt and her makeshift belt. 

“Do you… need to… take it somewhere?” She shook her head. The man swallowed. “That’s a lot of meat for one person. Erm…” He looked around, and she tilted her head. “…Do you know how to treat it? If you’re planning to eat that yourself, you probably want to salt-preserve it, it’ll spoil quickly otherwise. I could… help?” 

She shook her head quickly, forcefully, then nodded, please, and the man flinched.  But he was true to his word. 

He led her to a clearing, his hands fluttering and his soft eyes nervous as she followed like a wraith, and showed her how to lay the stag down and open the rest of its body with a clean sharp knife. How to strip the meat from the bones, careful and keen, and process it into chunks and then lay it in pieces in salt to let it dry. She watched the process with singleminded focus, noting down every last motion, memorizing each flick of the knife. 

He let her borrow his blade, so she could clean the carcass and keep that velveteen skin. With a few weeks’ drying and treatment, it would make a good blanket to last the winter through. She stripped the stag to the bones, and kept those as trophies. That night, the angels taught her to sharpen them into knives. 

When the man had left, knife and bow in hand, retreating into the shadows, she realized that he never once quite looked her in the eyes. 

She kept the skull. Late at night she stared into its face, searching for the glint of the stag’s all-knowing gaze in the depths of his bones, knowing there was nothing on the other side. She stared at him until somewhere deep inside, a part of her became him. Until his eyes became her own. 

She took the form of a deer in the morning, wearing the weight of his antlers like a crown. The herd moved by her in the bushes and watched her like a ghost. 

She went south. The winter was upon her, and it was time again to travel. The herd had enough to haunt them.

[usedpidemo]

And scene ((G)I-dle Minnie)

“Oh my God.”

No other words could adequately describe what happened to you. It was everything but a blur, things that could easily form into lifelong traumas. Almost everything you went through over the past few days might as well be taken straight out of a movie.

So where do you start?

An encounter with the local mafia that results in your fingers almost getting cut off, rescuing a Thai princess whose father was in cahoots with said criminal organization—the reason why she’s being held hostage as leverage—then escaping with her in a car and being pursued across the country by a helicopter and countless vehicles sent by the syndicate. 

You should really be dead by now. Four times over. 

Countless bruises, and wounds from bullets, blades, and everything that is designed to kill a man—any of these alone would be enough to permanently break any person, and you’re no athlete or assassin; you’re just a regular guy on what you thought was a promising vacation. It’s a miracle that you’re still breathing, more so standing, running on your feet towards the car you’ve taken refuge in, now on its roof and in flames.

Forget about the millions you’ve also stolen from the mafia; you’re thankful to be alive.

Unfortunately, your miraculous plot armor doesn’t seem to have passed on to the princess. At a glance, she appears to have only minor cuts and bruises like yours, but she’s laying on the tarmac, completely unconscious and unresponsive.

“Princess! Princess!” You shout, turn her face up and slap her cheek, checking for any signs of life. Blood trickles down her dirty face from her forehead, her lips, and her nose. You lean against her chest and press a thumb on her wrist, desperately seeking for a pulse. 

Not a single response, not a single sign. She’s as good as dead. 

Though you barely knew the woman, in the quiet moments when you weren’t dreading your surroundings, you grew feelings for her. Her beauty was befitting of her royal title, and despite her nobility, she never really thought much of it other than a personal burden. She only wanted to live a normal life, and you sympathized with her plight, even though you were merely a tourist passing through, unfamiliar with her customs and culture.

She didn’t deserve to die because of other people’s stupidity and recklessness, including yours.

You couldn’t bear to leave her alone. The survivor’s guilt hurts you more than anything that could have physically killed you. Sure, her family might not hold you responsible for their daughter’s death, but considering you ran off with her and traveled the entire country to find a safe haven, you might as well be an accomplice in their eyes. If not them, the media will.

You wanted to be by her side for as long as you could, praying for a miracle, but your instincts tell you to keep moving, to keep fighting.

You haven’t eaten anything for two days, and there’s nothing nearby that remotely resembles human civilization for miles. The sun has begun setting down, and soon enough, you’ll be prey to ferocious animals and the ruthless cold night. Despite this, you still have no intention to leave her. You’re just hoping the rescue promised by the national defense reaches you before it’s too late.

Just then, before you get up, you feel a tug on your arm. You turn and find the princess’ hand clinging to yours. She’s extremely weak, barely able to open her eyes, but she’s alive. Her little smile is more than enough of a reassurance that everything is going to be fine.

As much as you want to scream with joy, you’re far too overwhelmed with emotion, and all you can do is cry. Leaning close to her, you plant a gentle kiss on her chin and put her in a tight embrace.

“You’re—you’re—”

“Yeah,” she says, very faintly. She tries to widen her smile, but can’t. She doesn’t have to; she’s already done more than enough. “I’ll be okay.”

Right then and there, you give her a kiss you’ve been holding on for so long, all the pent-up feelings poured into your lips. A smooch so powerful, it can restore her life. A true love’s kiss, you could say. With the little strength she has, the princess gives in, reciprocating your love in kind, parting her lips. Both of you feel each other’s warmth with the setting sun shining down on you.

It couldn’t have been a more hopeful ending.

—————

“And cut!” A man’s rough voice echoes from the distance. That man isn’t really there, but he’s actually there, deliberating the action, fabricating everything up.

See, there was never any rescue, there was no criminal organization, and there was no damsel in distress. You were never really in danger all along.

You’re not really on vacation. You’ve been tirelessly working, in fact, in the confines of a film studio disguised as your ‘vacation.’  The princess you’ve been falling for is merely a co-worker, a colleague. It’s nothing but superficial chemistry to add some authenticity to an otherwise absurd but generic action movie plot. 

You draw your lips away from the kiss, unknowingly keeping up the act with a light smile and blush on the ‘princess.’ She mirrors your sentiment, flashes a light grin back. Whether or not there’s some realism between you is up to the viewer, but at the very least the camera makes you two look believable. You can’t edit or animate chemistry like that.

“Great job everyone! That’s a wrap!” says the director, pulling up from his seat to laud you and gesturing to the other staff to stand in front of the cameras. Today’s the last day of filming for your next film, an action-comedy romance thriller with you as the lead. It’s a lot to take in at first, knowing that this is your first principal part in a high budget film after a string of acclaimed indies and even generating some awards buzz along the way, but you knew you had to take the jump and get your name out there beyond a niche of Letterboxd and Twitter film geeks.

As for your co-star, Kim Minnie, she couldn’t have had a more different career trajectory than yours. She was a child actress who’s path to box office stardom couldn’t be any straighter, but her momentum stagnated with a series of commercial and critically panned mid-budget romcoms. She needed a brand reinvention more than ever, and this was her first move in getting her star back on the rise. 

As promising of a script as it looked, and even with a respectable director and crew handling, nothing is guaranteed for both of you. There’s so many ways the final product can end up: a critical and commercial success, an absolute disaster, a middling picture that will be completely forgotten after opening weekend, a cult classic that will only blossom years—decades even—after the initial release; the list goes on and on. 

At least the bag is guaranteed. The studio threw you millions to star in their blockbuster, even when you have no prior hit or prestigious award to your name. Either a sign of the studio seeing star potential or a big red flag, casting an unknown, and knowing who was supposed to be in their initial casting before you stepped in, it’s safer to assume the latter. Either way, you’re getting paid, and you always have the indie circuit to fall back on, should the worst come to pass.

After a set of group photographs for the behind-the-scenes reel, it’s time for you to move past this project and onto the next one. You don’t really think much of the experience, apart from the overall kindness of the staff and professionalism of your co-stars, some of which you’ll likely work with again, and others you’ll never see again after today. Of course, there’s the press tour, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

—————

It isn’t until the next hour that you’re finally able to drop the act and become yourself again. Alone in your designated waiting room, having cleaned up your rather uncomfortable makeup and in your casual wear, you hear a knock on the door right as you’re preparing to leave. Putting on your shirt, you walk up and open it to a staff member with a box in her hand.

“Miss Kim sent me to give this to you,” says the assistant, holding out the wrapped gift in front of you, which you gladly accept.

“Thanks!” you say, enthused, smiling back at the crew member. “Tell her I sent my regards.”

“Of course, she’d be delighted to hear that. See you!” She replies before quickly turning away as you close the door.

You immediately unwrap and peel off the box that Minnie gave you, presumably a farewell gift, knowing that this was your last day together. You heard rumors of her kindness toward the staff and fellow co-stars in the past, and this confirms her great reputation as a giver and substantiates practically every story and excerpt. 

So you open the box and find a new expensive watch inside, completely untouched with a tiny note attached to it.

> To my knight in shining armor

> Love, Kim Minnie

You don’t realize it, but as you finish reading the brief letter, you’re smiling widely, giddy like a child growing feelings toward their school crush. Perhaps there is a little more authenticity in the role than you initially brought, and a little more relatability with your character, falling in love with a princess like her. 

Reality then hits hard. You’ll likely never see her again, as much as you want to do more films with her. She has a different preference in projects compared to yours, and your career trajectories couldn’t be any more different. Of course, that can easily change over time, and one day she chooses to become an indie darling like you, the same way you built up your name in the first place, but that’s as likely as a sequel to this picture getting greenlit. 

Nevertheless, you were now motivated to see her one last time before leaving it all behind for good. 

So you make your way to Minnie’s personal dressing room to knock. The door doesn’t open, neither does any sound echo from the inside. She probably left already, you assume, but the lights are still on in there after noticing the floor. You try again, yet the response remains the same: there isn’t any. There’s still staff roaming the halls doing cleanup, so you can’t make your presence obvious by shouting her name.

After about five minutes, you contemplate leaving, but decide to wait a little more. Eventually, you notice that her door appears to be unlocked. She’s still there; there’s hope. Out of morbid curiosity, you decide to take a peek. Quiet as a mouse, you gently turn the knob without generating a sound, only to find something blinding.

When you peek your eyes inside, you find Minnie shuffling back and forth—naked. It takes every muscle and nerve in your body not to slam that door shut and make your presence known. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you close the door. Thankfully, the staff nearby seem to have completed their jobs or conveniently decided to clean elsewhere; you choose to believe in the latter.

Your better judgment tells you to walk away now, that you can still get some closure later on. There’s still the press tour for you to meet her again, and you can always choose projects that also happen to include her. No need for you to get involved in an unnecessary scandal just because.

Despite that, you knew you wanted to see her again, just not like this. But after seeing a tiny glimpse, you had no intention to leave so soon. You wanted more.

So you quietly re-enter her room, your eyes peeking out to watch her dress, and it’s the sexiest thing your eyes ever laid upon. She’s no longer completely nude, having put on some panties since then, but you capture countless mental pictures of her sizable, shapely breasts before she puts on a lace bra. Her previously long blonde locks having turned raven, the former being a cover for her actual hair, flows down to her shoulders with a brush of her hand. Either way, she rocks both colors flawlessly. She radiates star power and charisma naturally on top of her charming, seductive face and well-toned body, and you wonder how her career would have turned out had she played more femme fatale characters. 

Her body was perfectly designed for them. In fact, everything about her was made for them.

Even when she’s doing nothing, pacing back and forth half-nude without a care in the world, she makes it look like the hottest thing ever. None of your previous co-stars made you feel this way, enamored and smitten with every little move like they’re deliberate and purposeful. If her goal was to seduce you, she certainly perfected it.

You’re so into her, indulging in the sight of Kim Minnie dressing up for you like your own private little show, that you’re left unaware of your body’s deeper intentions, pushing you a little further past that door, bargaining for more, until—

Thud!

With a sudden, echoed yelp, you throw yourself from the safety of heaven and into the fire. 

You crash into her dressing room, your cry echoing across the studio. No harness or body double can break your fall or save you now.

“Hey!” Minnie’s barely finished putting on her shirt when she rushes over to you, worried. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m good,” you say, grunting as you pick yourself off the ground, brushing off the dust off your clothes.

“Are you sure?” She softly brushes your hair, tilting your chin up so that your eyes meet, hers accompanied with a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“I—I came over to, um—say thanks for the gift watch.” you reply, nervous, uncertain of your chosen words. It’s a miracle enough that you’ve found a reasonable excuse as to why you’re even there to begin with.

“Ah yeah! Manager-nim sent me your regards, but it’s much nicer to hear it coming from your own voice. It’s been great filming with you.”

“Of course,” you say, grinning. “Same goes with you, too.”

Minnie draws her hands away from your face. “Yeah, I hope we can find a way to share the screen together again.” 

“Me too.” you reply, nodding in agreement, unable to avert your gaze from hers.

As soon as you stop talking, awkward silence fills the room almost instantaneously. Minnie’s nervous smile remains constant, anticipating a follow up like there’s another half to make it whole. She’s right in that you do have a few more things to admit, but as the saying goes: some things are better left unsaid.

Considering how you fawned over her minutes ago, this seems like the best option moving forward. Keep it all business. You know how this industry works, how these moments go, how one small move leads to another, and the ending is usually not a good one, even if the consequences aren’t immediate. In a line that takes promising careers and shreds them to nothing, you know better than to fall into the system. She likely knows, too.

“I’ll—” you turn around, pausing to glance back at her. This isn’t you, nervous and tense like it’s your first day on the job. “—be on my way now.”

She gives you a modest wave goodbye as you take a few steps forward, the door to your freedom inches away.

Then you stop. 

You don’t end up getting your freedom. You don’t really want it. In fact, you toss it aside, a mere afterthought. Against your better judgment, you’re going off script, and there’s no external voice commanding you to stop, and you have no intention to. Impulse brought you to this point, and you were about to reap the full benefits. It’s a high, not a low.

“Minnie.” You turn around towards her with eyes full of lust, and her name dripping from your lips like your personal serotonin. She raises a curious eyebrow, puzzled. 

“Hm? Something up? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She doesn’t look fazed when you start walking back toward her. It’s like she knows you have some unfinished business.

A soft peck on the lip. It isn’t practice for a future kiss scene; the kiss only happened at the very end, and in some twisted way, the script wrote itself.

“I think you’re really pretty.” Quickly retreating, you make it so obvious how head over heels you are for her—flushed cheeks, childish grin, and stilted body language. All that’s missing is some cheesy modern pop music or some overused slow 80s classic in the background. 

“I—I—”

“Yeah.” Your eyes are pleading, begging. “I kinda fell for you—no, I completely fell for you.”

She covers her lips with her hands, utterly in disbelief. Her cheeks are burning just as bright as yours. “Oh my.”

“Um, well you’re beautiful, and really kind, and—” You had many things to say to Minnie, most of which previously echoed by others, and there’s no substance behind them, apart from maybe the first point, and they’re not what you really want to confess. 

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna work.” She sees through the facade, but your awkwardness is genuine. Mostly. “It was cute though, I’ll give you that.”

“W-what do you mean?” Your eyes widen at the sudden twist.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I know that’s not what you wanted to say.” Her shy expressions are replaced by a confident, piercing smirk, her arms crossed close to her chest. “You think I’m hot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, no—actually yeah, I think you’re really hot,” you say, waving the white flag almost immediately. It was so obvious from the jump. One of the few times your ‘acting’ failed you. 

“And?” Minnie raises an eyebrow, confidently expecting an answer. Her presence is so striking, it swallows up whatever remaining confidence you had left. There’s really nowhere to hide or run.

“Well, I hope you wouldn’t be upset, but—” Gulp your throat. “I quietly peeked through the door as you dressed.”

“Knew it.” Minnie shakes her head, quietly giggling at points. “I knew something was up when the door was slightly opened.”

“Yeah, but—I’m really sorry! I really wanted to say thanks first! I didn’t mean to peek through the door on purpose.”

“Yeah, because you accidentally peeked through my door? Sure, I believe you.” she replies, mockingly. 

“Okay, but I couldn’t help it. You weren’t answering.” you say, tone deflated. 

“You couldn’t have waited a bit longer?” she lifts an eyebrow, gives you a wary glare. “Fucking pervert. You’re no better than the rest of them.”

“Five minutes is a long time.” you quietly mumble, pulling out the last of your pathetic excuses, but she’s clearly caught you red-handed.

“Yeah, fuck you. Only sorry cause you’re caught.” Her eyes sharpen and she shakes her head. “Fine. You should be happy I’m in quite a good mood today, so leave. I’ll pretend this never happened, but I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

You’re visibly distraught. You have no intention to walk, not when there’s a lot at stake, and who knows what she’s going to do afterward. Hell, even as early as tomorrow, your career may no longer exist.

“Minnie,” You say, gently, eyes having gone from wanting to pleading. She turns to you with a fierce glare, as if the mention of her name desecrates her entire being. A stare so piercing you impulsively look the other way. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Hm.” She scans your face. Soft, helpless, vulnerable. “And how will you do that?”

You take a deep breath, swallow hard. “Anything. Please don’t get me in trouble. No one else has to get involved.”

She pouts, runs the offer meticulously through her head, having all the leverage in this proposal. The negotiations delay to make sure all her terms are agreed upon. Footstep clatters echo from outside the room, but not a soul is aware or even tries to interfere with your little affair. 

“Okay, you say anything?” she asks, facing you, expression still cold.

You nod, still trembling.

“I only want one thing, then.” Minnie approaches you, each step of her heel a death bell being rung. Her eyes gaze at you, demanding your attention belong to her and her alone—and there were plenty of different parts about her that grabbed them. “You said you think I’m hot, right? Good news, I felt the same way about you—that was, until you pulled that little stunt, pervert.”

She says the last word like it’s a curse on your clean record, a reminder that will cling to you till you’re buried six feet under. 

Keeping her eyes locked on yours, she walks around you until a sofa is conveniently right behind her. She then walks backwards, her hand motioning you to follow her, to which you reluctantly oblige. Inches away from the couch, she stops you right in your tracks, rubs her palms down your shirt, sizing you up.

“You’re a good kisser, I’ll give you that,” she says, her modulated, assertive tone reduced to a faint whisper. “But I wanna know if you’re good at love scenes too.”

Despite your stature, you’ve never shot a sex scene. At best, it’s you and your on-screen partner making out before the camera pans out of view, leaving the rest for the viewer’s imagination. Now you have to do the real thing completely uncut.

There’s a huge price to fame, after all.

Minnie lifts her white crop over her head, granting you a much closer view of her cleavage. She tosses it aside before facing you again. Arousing of a sight it looks, you’re anxious. “Take your shirt off.”

You follow, your sweater joining hers on the opposite end of the room to be forgotten. She scans you again, your bare, well-built chest completely exposed to her, now completely clean of fake scratches and wounds. 

“Fuck, this is nice,” she comments, palming your chest. This isn’t the first time she’s seen you shirtless, but it’s in a completely different setting and context. “I wish we could have done this sooner. Oh well. Better now than never, I guess.”

Minnie plants a soft peck on your bicep, then on another, until she’s marked all your core points with her strawberry flavored lipstick. She nudges you a tiny bit closer to her, enough that you can feel your groin tense up against the hint of her heat. 

“Yeah, that’s it. You feel so hard for me. You want to fuck me so bad, don’t you?” Minnie wraps her arms over your neck, explores your back and squeezes flesh to claim. Her seductive teasing reaffirms your true intentions, even though you’re never going to openly admit them. At some point, you wonder as to what her definition of punishment means, but you brush the thought aside, especially when your blood rushes down from your head to your groin. 

She sneakily grabs you by your balls, tightening behind obstructive layers of fabric. Your erection can’t wait to spring free, lest you go home with conspicuously soiled pants. Grabbing a hold of your tent, her infectious lips continue to quietly shatter your eardrums. “I can already imagine this dick fucking my pussy so hard and so fast. Mmm, I bet you can actually make me cum.”

Had it been any other scenario besides this one, you’d have fired back a quip or two. Instead, you remain silent, rendered powerless under her commanding spell, reduced to a weak groaning shell of yourself.

“Too bad that will have to wait,” she suddenly blurts, pushing you away before retreating to the couch. Crossing her legs, she adds, “Let’s do a little trial run. Pleasure me without using your cock, then we might get somewhere. Sounds good?”

You sigh. Whether out of frustration of being blue balled or because of her terms is up for anyone’s interpretation. She lifts her eyebrows, looking at you intensely, smirking, reveling at your visible disappointment. 

“The producers are just down the hall, so unless you want to take it to court,” she comments, teasingly, instigating, sparking a fire in your gut. Footsteps echo, again proving her point. You don’t doubt her for a second, but it stings whenever you hear that stark reminder of your little mistake. You just wanted to get on with the act and move past it immediately.

Her eyes maintain an intense grip on you—smoldering—as you approach her and take her by the waist, watching as you take hold of her jeans and slide them down, pushing her gray panties along as extra baggage. Gracefully, she opts to give you a little mercy by kicking off her flats. Even when she seemingly does nothing, her eyes judge, take note of your serious, rather businesslike demeanor of undressing her. 

Her splayed pussy’s right in your view, but your petty contempt for her makes it less inviting.

“What are you waiting for?” dares Minnie, pointing down at her entrance, eyebrows raised and tauntingly smirking. 

You couldn’t be any more eager to wipe that confident smile off her face. 

Keeping the rule in mind, you hover atop her seat on the couch and drop an arm, burying your hand between her pink lips. Minnie winces as your fingers make first contact with her clit, drawing her heat. She appears visibly shaken, caught unawares by your touch, even when she expected it.

“O-oh, f-fuck—” she whines, shutting an eye, cheeks puffing as she tries to resist, to no avail. Her nails rake into your back, inviting you ever closer, slowly relinquishing control, a perfect time for you to claim as yours. 

The wet and warm sensation scalds, burns on your fingertips. You anticipated her to be wet, but not this soaked. Her pussy drags your digits further down like quicksand—nigh inescapable. Each little slap and touch creates a clap, a few raindrops that signal forthcoming rain. 

Propped only by your other arm resting on her shoulder, you indulge in her wetness, searching for her favorite spot, the gold mine. Her body trembles, slowly but certainly adjusting to your fingers, moans becoming thinner and airy, eyes gradually losing focus on you, absorbed in the pleasure rapidly building within her. Her hips slowly buck and fold, grind against your digits in an attempt to swallow them whole. 

“F-feels so good, f-fuck—” she whines, entangling her arm with yours, almost disrupting the euphoric moment when she drags you onto the couch with her. It’s a blessing in disguise, as you’re able to kick off your shoes and increase the tempo inside her. 

In that moment, she had forgotten her anger, only to be replaced by a renewed feeling of bliss.

Moaning against her temple, lips barely grazing her forehead, you whisper, “You’re so fucking wet, and I haven’t even put this dick in you yet.”

“Fuck off.” Minnie suddenly snaps, tone frantic, her body set alight by need and craving for more. Even with the little fight she displays, she’s clearly on the losing end, delaying the inevitable. It’s all the more clearer when her voice fades, strains with every passing word, and her plea betrays her. “P-please, keep going.”

You slip a second finger, watch as her legs clamp down as her body squirms tighter and tighter beneath her touch. By the way her legs tremble and writhe violently, you swear they’re melting into the couch. She grasps at straws to keep you controlled, to keep your tempo stable, to leave some breathing room, to no avail. Your digits continue to fuck her at an intense pace, to the point where the wet, squelching claps of her cunt echo along with her lewd moans.

“Yes. Need that.” She squirms beneath you, her hands no longer craving you, but on a different goal; she brings them around her back, unhooks her bra for you to toss them aside on her behalf. Afterward, she grabs you by the wrist and leads you directly to her breast, a generous reward for your efforts. 

When you hold her, it’s like rescuing a damsel in distress, saving her from her most wanton of desires by fueling yours. Every little touch, slap, and pinch of her naked body loosens her psyche and drives her wild.. From the most strained cry to the loudest scream, Minnie makes it clear just how amazing you feel to her, and her voice makes the sultriest sounds your ears are blessed to hear.

You can’t help but put such thought into words. 

“God, you have such a sexy voice when you moan,” you whisper, and it’s what appears to break her. 

Minnie lets out an ear-shattering shrill, her body convulsing as the pressure of your fingers finally pushes past a point beyond repair. Her legs lock tighter on your hand, as if they couldn’t be any more imprisoned, but they eventually loosen up and pave the way for her unannounced orgasm. 

She gushes. Like a broken faucet, she doesn’t stop leaking, passionately crying through her vivid climax. It’s a mixture of slick and water that leaves your fingers incapable of leaving her, so you entertain the notion, dragging your digits in and out of her still gushing folds, seeming to make a mark on her cunt. Brushing in and out for a bit, until you settle around the exterior of her clit, you continue to fondle and caress her in your twisted form of aftercare. Even so, her orgasm continues to wash over her and your fingers, spilling onto the mattress you fuck her on.

“Oh God, I can’t stop cumming, oh God—” she whines, gasping for air, mouth agape, her hand grabbing her other breast; her orgasm is gradually dying from a shower to a drizzle.

“Mmm.” You brush your sticky fingers on her belly, playfully nodding in agreement. “Sounds about right.”

Minnie takes a moment to gather herself before she pushes your hand aside—quicker than you hoped. By the way she orgasmed and screamed, you’d think she’d already be down for the count. “I wasn’t ready, you pervert.”

“I was only following the rules,” you respond, lifting your shoulders in a shrug, barely holding on to your confident demeanor, only showing the faintest sign of a smirk.

“Sure, whatever.” Minnie shoots you a stern leer, but it doesn’t faze you in the slightest—not when you know that she’s no better than anyone else. “Now fuck me with that cock and cum fast so we can get this over with.”

You get the pleasantries out quickly, as she wanted. Hopping off the couch, you undo your belt and pants, get your already hard cock free from its denim constraints. She eyes your shaft intently, looking unsatisfied, but you know it’s a facade, a poor acting effort compared to her usual abilities. 

“Sure you want me to cum fast?” you tease, jokingly pointing out her fixated gaze on your cock. “Seems like you want me to give it to you nice and slow.”

“N-no. I was just surprised at how big it is,” she retorts, appearing even more scornful than moments before. She looks up at you, visibly annoyed, before looking down at your raging cock once more, another sign of betrayal. 

“Please. Drop the act, Minnie.” Tilt her up from the chin, gently pushing her back down on the cushion. Surprisingly, there’s no pushback, no reluctance; she allows you to get atop her on the couch. Her eyes look into yours, then scan your chest with want, with need. “Let me fuck you the way you really want. I want it too.”

A flirty smirk forms on her contorted lips. She pulls you to her level by your shoulders, softly nibbling on your earlobe. With a hypnotic whisper, she says, “Fuck me.”

You return the favor, smiling lightly at the open invitation given to you—knowing that her body knows her wants more than she does. Without wasting any more time on needless pleasantries, you slip yourself in, introducing your cock to her welcoming heat. No matter how much you prepared for this, it takes every fiber of your resolve to not crumble immediately in that moment, uttering a sharp hiss as you close the gap between your length and her womb. 

Your unison forms a harmonious groan and curse that fills the room louder than anything before. The powerful wave of pleasure surging through you overrides your senses, leaves you unable to move, keeps your eyes shut, unable to look at the handiwork beneath you. You grip a hand around her breast, elicit another moan from Minnie’s sultry lips, seek a sign you’re doing it right. 

“So fucking tight,” you rasp, slowly fighting her tight, wet cunt from sucking you all in. Her creamy legs narrow the gap, leaving you even more breathless. Still, you manage, by some miracle, to pull yourself out before you plunge right in again.

Words can’t tell how good Minnie feels with you inside her; sexy, erotic mewls that tickle your eardrums are the only proper expression.

Your hands intertwine and find themselves in the only comfortable place they can be in, with each other. Finding nothing but paradise in her heat, you rest your head on the groove of her neck, still overwhelmed to look at her ecstasy-filled face. As you mark down her skin, leave marks that no amount of makeup can hide, you settle into a steady rhythm fucking her. With each thrust her walls clench around your cock, turn it to a canvas of her pleasure with her juices.

The world quiets down for just the two of you, except for the crescendo of moans that leave both your lips and the wet flaps of skin against skin, and that’s all you want to hear right now. There’s no pressure from the outside, no call from a producer or staff telling you to get ready, just the hot action happening between you. 

Minnie’s thighs continue to clench around your hips, put more pressure around you to burn. In retaliation, you put her deeper into the couch, melt her flesh into the leather as you comfortably fuck her at your pace—not too fast, but not too slow. She returns your lovemaking in kind, rolls her hips, and meets you halfway with each thrust. One hand rests on her taut breast, the other on her hips, but hers are connected with yours; either way, you have the actress exactly right where you want her to be. 

“You fuck me so well,” she whines, tone low, lifting her neck up, kicking her thighs, urging more out of you. “Harder. Harder.”

Lifting your figure up, your cock sinks further into her suffocating walls, plunging as deep as you can into her drenched pussy. The deeper you go, the higher your moans reach. Her hot body leaves you so weak, so breathless, that it forces Minnie’s legs to spur your hips on, to keep fucking her just like this.

“Minnie.” Her name is a plea to make the sensation stop or at least slow down, as incredible as she feels around you. Ultimately, it does nothing, and you press on, as if only her body can satiate you.

It’s then that her eyes flutter open, lips still melted and open, still moaning as you pound her. Her chest heaves with each deep breath, while her palms find their way around your chest. She tries to pull you down again, but to no avail. Ultimately, her body goes rigid, trembles violently beneath you as her second orgasm overcomes her and leaves her completely open to the throes of pleasure. 

“I came again,” she whispers, her light figure quaking from her fresh climax. Even with jittery muscles, her hand traces up to your shoulder, till it reaches up your cheek, forcing you to meet her. “Please, cum in me already.”

Her legs loosen around your hips, as if telling you otherwise, but the feeling is so good—so wet, so warm, and so tight—that it would be a disservice to everything you’ve done so far not to unload in her. She has her eyes observing you, softly caressing your shoulders in a desperate plea, as if you have any other intention other than to do what she wants you to. It’s fucked—how her glazed eyes keep you still, all while your body continues to work overtime. She melts, she contorts, she anticipates you coming undone for her.

Even with her frame rocking and clenching beneath you, her breasts bouncing with each sharp stroke, it’s her eyes, her expectant gaze, keeping you at bay. Her lips shift around, her orgasm beyond her at this point, softly whispering one final plea. “I want—all of you—inside me. Don’t ever—think of—pulling out. I’m all yours—baby!”

You suppress a breathy gasp, grit your teeth, your muscles and nerves all over the place. A little more before you ultimately surrender. A handful of strokes is all it takes before you go numb, burying your cock deep into her cunt. Hot, hot thoughts fill your head, mostly asphyxiating sensations choking your entire body as you pour shot after shot of thick cum inside her greedy cunt. 

“So—warm,” mumbles Minnie, ignoring the longest syllabled fuck from your side as your body gradually descends, all your strength completely sapped in one fell swoop.

You eventually find solace on her bare figure, your cock still throbbing inside Minnie’s pussy, but your motions slow to a halt, until the only sign of life coming from you is the wave of deep breaths you gather on her collarbones. She joins you in rest, letting her nails take refuge on your back, tracing and marking your skin as you did to hers. 

The two of you remain entangled, relishing each other’s sweat, cum-filled bodies on the couch, bathed in the afterglow of sex. Both of you would happily sleep another day on set if it meant you were in each other’s arms. Of course, that’s not the reality; you don’t know when you’ll see each other again after this.

Surprisingly, Minnie is the first to break the tense silence. Brushing your hair, she mumbles, “You okay?”

A question that you should be asking her, not the other way around. 

You lift your head from her body and nod, create little ripples on her flesh. “Yeah. I should be asking you that.”

She flashes a gentle grin, the trademark smile you’ve missed, and will miss. “I’m good. More than that, actually.”

A few more minutes pass, with your eyes lovingly staring into each other, unwilling to let the moment die. “You could have just asked, you know.”

“Hm?” You lift an eyebrow.

“You could have asked, and we would still end up like this. Fucking pervert.”

“Ugh—you’ll never stop referring to me as that, are you?” you groan, dropping your face on her neck while she throws her head back and chuckles.

“Nope. Pervert.”

—————

(A/N: This one's dedicated to @svndaysaweek, I saw his answer to a particular ask and thought it was very appealing of an idea to write. Again, apologies for the sudden month long drought, was feeling extremely unmotivated and still am XD Thank you for reading!)

[acontrariis]

chapter 2. the sea snake

pairing. Aemond Targaryen x OC word count. 2.1k warnings. mention of death, grief.

⋆ prev. chapter

The greatest moments of your life usually happen when you least expect it, sometimes without you even knowing it. 

Getting engaged against your will and banished in the span of a week was not something many could say have experienced, especially before you could even have a much needed drink to cope, and yet, at the tender age of ten and three, Vienna Targaryen had already learned how cruel those who called themselves your family can truly be. 

Moving homes was a familiarity that did not feel lighter with each new encounter. 

Pieces of her childlike innocence were robbed to never be found again, and with each of them, the girl wondered if there was ever a real home for her. Luckily, she had learned how families come in different shapes and forms, and the people she chose to love were the most loyal companions she could’ve asked for. 

As the years went by, she learned and grew. Harnessing her powers, maturing her craft, taking in as much information as she could get her hands on. 

Settling down in Driftmark had proven to be a blessing in disguise. The Velaryons were far from the loving cousins she would wish for, but they didn’t mind her much. A debt had been paid, they explained on her arrival. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

Half of the time they acted as if she wasn’t there. Another canvass on the wall, an empty shell in which to draw. 

Her days went on as usual, with Marmee’s company and the voices to fill the silence, a sense of normality had been established. 

… And then the news arrived, Laena Velaryon was dead. 

A rider’s death.  

She had never personally met her, but she noticed how the only times Rhaenys’ eyes shone when speaking to her was when her daughter was mentioned. The anguished cries echoed in Vienna’s ears. 

Death. Funeral. Reunion. Hate. 

So much hate.

The overwhelming voices, topping on top of each other, fighting for recognition was a chaos her mind proved not to be ready for. It was a good thing no one expected her presence, as the fever wouldn’t let her get out of bed. 

The blood in her body boiled while the ringing in her ears clouded her thoughts. So she laid in bed while the preparations were made for the funeral; wet cloths and soft touches grounded her from the chaos in her mind and the voices that slipped through the cracks.

⸺

- “I wouldn’t have imagined you would take her under your wing, Princess Rhaenys.”

The woman scoffed, as if hearing a bad joke with which she decided to play along. 

- “Well, someone had too. Whatever she may be, the Targaryen name is still hers, given that the previously planned transaction failed.” 

Her sardonic smile was met with a hardened look, perfected through the years. 

The Green Queen was the perfect embodiment of the Hightowers. Never a hair out of place, never a misstep, never an inappropriate answer. Every glance and every move perfectly calculated. 

Rhaenys always pitied the younger woman, the endless possibilities of what could have been. Now her cold eyes were staring back at her as if trying to decipher her thoughts and she couldn’t help being amused, how a little child could anger the most powerful woman in the realm was beyond her understanding. 

- “Yes, well, we’ve witnessed how legitimacy is not always ensured when it comes to the next line.”

- “I sure hope you wouldn’t be making any accusations, my Queen. That would certainly be a grave matter, wouldn’t you agree?”

⸺

The pup will anger the beast. 

Among the clamor, a particular voice kept repeating the same prediction. Vienna couldn’t understand who it was referring to, and as much as she tried to ask, the response would always be the same. A day passed, the family had arrived earlier, all the preparations ready for the ceremony. Even as her fever had subdued, Marmee still wouldn’t let her get out of bed, in fears it would worsen again. 

It was late in the afternoon when Vienna sneaked out of her chambers, bored out of her mind, the walls her suffocating as a soft light from the cloudy sky creeped under the curtains.  

She didn’t understand how, maybe the fatigue clouding her mind finally made it impossible for her to hear as much as before, maybe someone somewhere took pity on her and quieted the chaos from before. Whatever it was, only a few whispers remained, as if the cries from before had been sealed, only a far away murmur was present. 

Enjoying the much needed peace, Vienna focused on silencing the remaining voices, the sound of her footsteps loud in the empty hall. A snack would do her good, she hadn’t been able to have a proper breakfast and, as much as she loved Marmee’s cooking, the sickly soup made her wanna puke, not that she would ever admit it. 

Smiling to herself, she made her way to the kitchen void of people, she assumed most of them would be resting before the preparations for dinner. Taking advantage of the solitude, she proceeded to get the food to snack on. 

As she was pouring out the milk, she noticed her company. 

A beautiful boy looked back at her, soft blue eyes and long white hair, he was the prettiest boy she’d ever seen and the embarrassed blush covering her cheeks was quick to show. The boy couldn’t have been much older than her, they were about the same height and built. The royal green clothes accentuated the paleness of his skin, making him almost seem like a ghost. 

She didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t often she would meet children her age, being surrounded by adults most of her life, this came to be a new experience for her. 

The white-haired Prince was as surprised as she was, he didn’t expect anyone to be in the kitchen, as he had made sure everyone was out before coming here seeking some peace from all the tension in the family reunion going outside. 

At first he thought she may be a maid, the daughter of some servant maybe, that would explain why no one was informed the Velaryons were housing a child. 

However, at closer look, her dress looked as expensive as his own clothes, probably even more. The finest silk covered her head to toe, her supple and blushed cheeks had never seen a day’s work.

The clear tell, however, were the purple eyes staring back at him. 

Targaryen.

As he analyzed her, he didn’t miss the fear mixed with curiosity in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting company either, and the shock that froze her quickly stopped as she felt the cold milk wetting her fingers. 

Letting out a curse word, something she’d heard from the stable boys that was certainly not allowed for a lady, she quickly put the container aside as she hurried to find something to clean herself with. 

Surprised at the sudden burst, Aemond couldn’t help but let out a laugh, though quickly covered it with a cough as he offered her a cloth tissue he tended to keep at hand. 

- “I apologize, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.”

- “Oh, no… Don’t worry. It was my fault, I’m usually more alert. I should get going, anyway.”

She smiled politely at him and quickly bowed as she turned to leave. 

- “Wait… wait a moment.”

He wrapped his hand around her arm, stopping her exit. He was curious about her. She was too well-dressed to be a servant, her manners and even the way she hurriedly bowed all pointed to an education most couldn’t afford. 

She was clearly not a worker, so why weren’t they informed of her presence here?

Just as he was about to inquire further into her identity, Cole bursts through the kitchen doors. His permanent frown pronounced as he scanned the room till his eyes landed on Aemond. 

- “There you are. Let’s go, your mother is looking for you.”

- “What? Why? Wait!”

By the time he noticed, the girl had already disappeared, escaping from his grasp. As Cole questioned Aemond about his older brother’s whereabouts, he dragged him out of the room. 

One final look over his shoulder showed him the flare of a wine skirt hiding behind the cupboard.

⸺

Aemond couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious girl. In the middle of the chatter and the noise, his mind kept going back to that single interaction; a million questions raising through his mind. 

The most prominent one, who was she?

He tried to question his mother, to no avail. His brother, he was certain, knew even less than him. And his sister wouldn’t give him a straight answer. 

It was fair to say he was preoccupied in his own affairs, the sorrowful occasion left as an afterthought in the back of his mind.

And then he realized: a dragon with no rider was wandering by the castle.

So close he could touch it.

Vhagar.

This was his chance. His one true, and probably last, chance to claim a dragon. And hopefully this time his favorite boots wouldn’t be turnt to ashes.

Arming himself with all the bravery the broken ego of a young man could muster, he made his way to the ancient dragon. 

Most of the attendees had already excused themselves, gone somewhere quiet to freely mourn. Others decided to entertain themselves in various ways, with the ever present alcohol clouding their senses of any indiscretion.

His solitude was guaranteed, or so he thought. 

The familiar figure he left hiding behind the kitchen cupboard was now standing at the edge of the hill, maintaining a prudent distance from the delicate beast.

Her big eyes shone with the light from her torch. They were clear and deep, it was like she was looking through him at something, or someone else. Weirdly, she seemed perfectly awake, while simultaneously in a trance. 

This time, she didn’t hurry to run away.

Instead, she stared at him, analyzing every one of his movements and expressions.

All the questions Aemond wished to ask died on his tongue before he could voice them out. While too afraid to break the silence, her words startled him and he could finally respond. 

- She’s sad… and tired.

- How do you know?

She looked at him like he had just said the stupidest thing a human being could utter. Like it was evident, and he was an idiot for not knowing.

- You’ll make her mad, a sacrifice will be paid. 

He didn’t know what to say to that. She reminded him of Helaena, and that was not something he needed at the moment. 

Brushing off his nerves and her warning, he looked back at the castle. Time was of the essence, he had to hurry up. 

Half of him expected her to try and stop him, he was preparing the words he would say so she would leave him alone. But the interruption he was waiting for never came. 

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the fiery glow disappear in the distance, while he strutted towards his destiny.

⸺

Late that night, the room was silent when Vienna made her way in Aemond’s chambers, only the soft breathing of the boy lying in bed could be heard in the darkness of the night. 

Careful as to not make any sound, she approached the bed. She didn’t have much time, Marmee would notice her absence any minute, but she just wanted to help him a little. 

Aemond tossed in bed, as if a nightmare hunted him. It had taken him over an hour and much milk of the puppy to finally be able to fall into slumber. 

Hopping carefully on the bed, Vienna held Aemond’s hand, soft whispers tried to calm him as she reassured him he was safe now. 

Once the boy had finally stopped, she pulled the medicine she had taken from Marmee’s collection. The cold ointment had healed more than her share of cuts and bruises through the years, and she hoped it would ease some of his pain. 

As she carefully applied it over his pulsing wound, she softly prayed he wouldn’t wake up yet. 

As quietly as she had made her entrance, Vienna left, not before wishing, one last time, for the boy of the beautiful eyes to be okay. 

The next morning, Aemond woke up to a familiar yet unknown scent lingering in the air. The piercing pain now simmered down as he slowly got up. The fragrant smell calmed him and soothed the anxiety that filled his mind the minute he woke up. 

An unfamiliar golden canister caught his eye, that wasn’t there last night, he didn’t think; a note indicating to apply it twice a day was the only explanation he got. 

After last night’s events, his head was clearing as memories flooded his brain. 

Questions piled up the remainder of his trip and all the way home, yet despite his constant inquiries about the strange can and the curious girl he met then, they never met again.

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[timestillstands]

RAAHAHHAHAHRF

Hi i’m normal

Tell me about your au so I can EAT IT (the information, I mean.)

RRRAGHHHHH HELLO SLIME I HAVE NOT SEEN IN THE PAST TEN MINUTES COUGH COUGH

Hurrrg this might take me overnight because I'm sickies and exhausted but um anyways I'll try and do what I can

BA NA NA NA NAA ENTER THE READER. 100 men's anxiety packaged ever so careful. but not labeled as fragile. Has an overwhelming sense of people pleaser. also thinks everyone hates them if they aren't close w them. I wonder who could write such a self insert. Reader needs a job(you either quit or got fired from your last job) and you're fresh out of college(where you majored in engineering or something. idk.), what better place to turn to than the one and only(that's a lie) PizzaPlex!!!!

Yeah uh hahaha Sun doesn't like you. yayyy. you totally don't blame yourself at all. you do actually ignore that.

Haven't mentioned this yet but the dca is actually trying to PROTECT you. which is funny. because. you get harmed. physically and mentally. a lot. all apart of the plan to get you to quit !!!!

also sun and moon are one person in this au, which is extra fun because yayyy that totally isn't hard to explain at all. I did this to myself. moon is a set of nighttime protocols, while sun is day-time protocols. it just alters how he acts around you and talks etc etc. they both have the same goals and want you OUT.

Moon has very crappy programming; when they tried removing him or reprogramming him entirely, which they gave up on, they weren't very smart and didn't go back to fix anything they have erased. yknow. like safety measures. because. why would they try to do that.

They were more worried about fixing sun and just said screw it, shoving moon in there for a while as the naptime attendant before they realized they fuzzled up. oh good fun. so moon is like, erased from anything besides merchandise. sun won't even talk about what he did. or the fact that he's the same person as moon.

that turned into a bigger problem. why on earth would anyone want to give you a proper set of instructions? sun dismisses any sort of question about moon(who you were specifically told to FIX. by said date unless further complications arrived. they do, btw.) hey, at least we have Vanessa!

your brief encounter w her was great, she got along with you for the short amount of time that you talked that first time. you brought up moon, not having any other real coworker outside of staff bots and the dca around to ask. HEY !!! SHE KNOWS SHIT !!!

so you get some information, really rare around these parts, and haha. yay. you head out for the day and guess what? tomorrow you have a nightshift. fingerguns.

btw. you've never had a nightshift or anything. but you didn't think it was weird or anything to not have lights on, it was night, right?(ahaha that rhymed)

ouhg. hi Moon. um. btw. he likes playing hide and seek 😃

and that's like. the rough outline for the first two chapters

☝️me explaining my au 😁😁😁

[hilkaro]

My Fox headcanons, because why not.

He has an obsession with control. Perhaps due to his traumatic and unresolved experiences from his youth, Fox likes and needs to always keep his hand on the pulse in every situation. That's why living under the watchful eye of cameras, recording, and tracking his life has become entirely normal for him, to the point where he no longer pays attention to it. He often reviews this material to analyze it and draw conclusions. For this reason, Fox also enjoys meticulous planning. Making detailed notes, setting reminders on his phone, and gathering as much information as possible on topics that interest him are things that relax him and he enjoys doing. He also likes rituals and routines because they introduce a pleasant monotony into his life. He dislikes surprises and when things don't go according to plan. This makes him furious and he finds it difficult to control his anger. Through such outbursts, he tries to mask the fear that overwhelms him when he enters unknown territory.

He is narcissistic and egocentric. At one point, Fox delved deeply into social psychology. He strongly identified with Zimbardo's theory of wolves and sheep. He saw himself as a wolf - a superior being, much better than the rest. He willingly surrounds himself with people he perceives as inferior, weaker than himself. They have a mainly objectified role for him, they are tools he can use according to his preferences at any moment. For this purpose, he mastered the art of manipulation and spreading terror; he was excellent at managing fear and weakness in others. He is despotic because in his opinion, he is the most intelligent and practically infallible. When he makes a mistake, he blames others. He also believes that a sheep can transform into a wolf - he himself was once such a sheep - and he avoids such people the most.

His cheerfulness is just a facade. In reality, he is a very lonely and unhappy man who cynically views the world. His joy and cheerfulness are only a mask he puts on for his needs. He sometimes sits in the dark and thinks for long hours about how he has been wronged by the world. Then his sense of injustice and disappointment grows - why can't he have what others have? How are they better than him?

Bonus Why is he so obsessed with Lynn? Lynn is one of the three daughters of the Mother Goddess. She was created to be loved. For this purpose, she was endowed with certain traits that manifested when she encountered suitable individuals - lonely souls yearning for affection, those bruised by life, maniacs with twisted souls. Such individuals always saw in her what they most desired, which could be something different for everyone. Fox, being a great narcissist, saw his young self in her.

[vodka-glrl]

𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙, 𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖝𝖗𝖞

"𝐴𝑘𝑖𝑟𝑎, 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑥 𝑦𝑜𝑢"

_____________________________________________

Fandom:Final Fantasy

Fic type:Oc backstory (not close to the canon story at all)

Ship:Heavily implied Noctis Lucis Caelum x Akira Matsumoto

Tag list: @nogenderbee

_____________________________________________

Have you ever tried achieving the impossible such as trying to cure a deadly disease?

That was Akira Matsumoto's life goal, to cure her "Elixry" a disease strong enough to turn a human into a daemon if not treated urgently.

She had a temporary cure, a serum developed by her late father, she carried it on herself all the time in fear of turning into one of those disgusting creatures and attacking innocent people.

She's searched all over the world in hopes that somehow some way she could find a cure.

That's how she ended up in Insomnia, the capital of Lucis. Who knew a simple encounter with Noctis Lucis Caelum "the prince of Lucis" would be the the worst mistake of her life

Noctis was charming, kind and overall just any girl's dream boyfriend. At least that's what Akira thought at the time.

She openly told Noctis about her illness and her purpose of visiting his kingdom.

He listened...

He didn't get freaked out...

He offered to help her out...

He was perfect for her

That encounter was a week prior to the duo finding traveling with three other guys called Ignis, Gladio and Prompto trying to rescue the magical crystal that was Lucis's power source whilst secretly searching for a cure for her Elixry in the background.

Akira and Noctis had a deal:

She helped Noctis get the crystal back and Noctis helps her find a way to rid her of her disease.

The two of them fell in love during their journey and started dating shortly after.

Near the end of their ten years long journey the group of five starts falling apart, with the death of Ignis they were all distraught and they were far from finding the crystal and curing Akira until one day when Noctis just vanishes without a word prior.

The disappearance of Noctis greatly devastated the already overwhelmed Akira. She told Prompto and Gladio that she was going to find Noctis no matter what it took and left the two to find him

She was slowly running out of syrum, down to only two viels of the liquid which meant she needed to be careful with her syrum usage. She walked all the way from Niflheim back to Insomnia only to be hit with the grueling news of Noctis getting married to the princess of Tenebrae, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

She couldn't believe her ears, what happened? Noctis said he loved her, he promised that he'd fix her with her newfound shock over the news she drops the pouch of syrum she was holding in her hand destroying her only two changes of returning back to normal.

She started seeking refuge in a poor Lucian village, with nowhere to go she was now stuck under the command of her past lover and his new queen.

Her Elixry got worse and worse with each passing day, her arms, legs, body and face were stained with burning black spots, spikes growing from her tainted arms and legs.

One fortunate day she heard the village people gossip about how the queen was found dead in her room.

This was her chance...

Her chance to see Noctis again...

_____________________________________________

[boydepartment]

Pizza Parlor- Lee Felix: Chapter 6.5

Description: Y/n is a stressed-out college student who has no idea what she is doing with her life. She is always wrapped up in nostalgia and her friends seem to know exactly what they're doing. Feeling insecure one night she decides to go on an old website. Club Penguin. Little does she know; she would encounter a certain penguin who was also having a rough night.

Stray Kids are idols, TXT is not.

Partial smau, mainly written.

Warnings for chapter 6.5: cursing, Felix is drained and overwhelmed.

WC- 1k

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masterlist

                                                                                                ```

Song for Chapter 6.5: If I Didn't Have You- Monsters Inc. soundtrack.

Chapter 6.5: A Tiresome Week and a half has ended.

Felix sighed as he finally flopped in his own bed, the work was prolonged, so he had more work on top of work. He had to do solo stuff and group stuff for Stray Kids. So being exhausted was an understatement. He barely had any time to text Y/n either and when he did, he was too tired to even call her. Most of their texts had consisted of little photos of themselves hoping the other had a good day.

He laid on his back and took a deep breath, man he was really drained. He started to get lost in his thoughts, quickly sitting up he checked his notes app. The little voice in his head was telling him that the little folder he had about her was creepy, but it was mainly to just not forget the important stuff.

                Like her birthday.

Felix was still stuck, not knowing what to get her. If he could meet her, he would love that. But then he would have to come clean about his occupation. If he didn’t then that could put Y/n in danger. Felix wasn’t stupid, he knew how possessive some stays were of him. He himself didn’t care but if they hurt someone dear to him then he would never forgive himself. Felix laid back down again sighing, he wanted to be normal sometimes. Being an idol is fantastic and he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. He just wished that people would let him have a personal life. Felix felt his face start to become wet.

                He was crying.

                Why was he crying?

He wiped his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop, what was wrong with him? Was it him being overwhelmed?

                “Hey Siri, FaceTime Y/n.”

Felix waited and she didn’t reply. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down, grabbing his phone he walked out towards the kitchen. Flicking on the lights Minho was already there. Felix yelped.

                “DUDE STOP DOING THAT!”

Minho turned to him, noticing how disheveled his brother looked, “sorry…”

Felix cursed at himself for snapping at Minho, he tossed his phone on the couch and walked toward him, “I-I am really sorry I am just really overwhelmed, and I am tired and stressed.” He leaned against the counter. Not noticing that Seungmin walked in and sat on the couch.

                “Hey… It’s okay. We have all been a little stressed, I know work has been really hard lately.” Minho put his hand on Felix’s shoulder.

                “No shit.” Seungmin spoke now sprawled out on the couch.

                “Wha- Why is everyone awake right now?” Felix looked up.

Seungmin peaked his head over the couch, “I had too much coffee earlier, plus jetlag.”

Felix then turned to Minho, expecting his answer too.

                “Oh, I have to go to the company in a few hours, I figured I would just stay awake.”

Felix nodded and put his head in his hands.

                “Does Y/n know?” Minho asked suddenly.

                “Oooooo yeah, remember what Chan said about being careful.” Seungmin piped in. Felix rolled his eyes and stood straight again.

                “No, she doesn’t. She knows Stray Kids exists, but she doesn’t know anything about them, I made sure of it by saying some stupid shit about how we are insane.” He felt guilty for lying now.

                “You’re going to have to tell her at some point.” The eldest in the dorm spoke, “be honest with her. If it ends in a mess, we will clean it up.”

Felix nodded and was about to speak until he heard Seungmin say something.

                “Oh, hi Y/n, I have heard so much about you.”

Minho started laughing and then turned to Felix who looked like he was about to shit himself.

                “I hope it was all good things!” When Felix heard your voice for the first time in what felt like forever he wanted to cry.

                “It is! Felix never shuts up about you. Y/n this, Y/n tha- “

                “HEY!”

Felix started sprinting from the kitchen then hopped over the couch basically tackling Seungmin.

                “Be careful! We have practice in a couple days!” Minho sighed then disappeared into the hallway.

                “I want to talk to Y/n you phone whore!” Seungmin said and tried to get Felix off him. Felix felt himself start to laugh, especially when he heard your laugh through the phone. His tears all dried up for now.

Felix did end up talking to you with Seungmin before Seungmin decided to try and get some rest. Felix went to his room with you still on the phone.

                “I really missed you Y/n.” He closed his door behind him.

                “I missed you too! I get paid tomorrow and it should be enough for my trip soon so I won’t be working as much as I have.” You sounded so angelic to him.

He sat at his desk and turned his computer on, “that is so good, I am happy for you. How has class been?”

                “Oh yaknow, a little stressful but I will get through it. Has work been okay?”

He had to remind himself to not cry.

                “It has been really stressful if I am being really honest with you…” He rubbed his eyes again, “I already told you some details over the past week and it has just been a lot.”

                “If there’s anything I can do please let me know, I care about you.”

FELIX

DO NOT CRY

                “Oh yeah… Thank you!” He swallowed hard then cleared his throat, “actually um, I was wondering if you had anything in mind for your birthday?”

Felix could tell the question had taken you by surprise.

                “Usually, I just go back home, and my parents take me to like this dinner thing- I don’t know it sounds stupid when I think about it.” You stumbled on your words.

                “Pleaaaaase tell me!” Felix was dying to know.

                “Well- “

                “Y/n dinner is ready can you get off the phone with your boyfriend?” This was a voice he didn’t recognize.

                “He’s not- I’ll be there in a sec.” You had turned back to the camera, “I am so sorry looks like we both got embarrassed by our friends tonight. I do have to go I am so hungry; my shift was long today.”

Felix smiled to himself, “no worries!”

You two ended the call and Felix ended up playing a game for the time being. He was starting to relax again, and it felt like he could finally breathe.

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

taglist: @bloofairyfox @yellowroses-world @g4m3girl @forevrglow @nepytune @rensimps

taglist is always open

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

authors note: i am so exhausted and posting this at 1am :) i will try my best to write tomorrow

i hope everyone is well <3

[quincyhorst]

KOQ HCs: Gareth Barrett #1

Background info on Gareth. My emo butler boy (? <3

(Experimenting with a different type of format than the typical bullet list I tend to use here. Mentions few OCs.)

The Barretts carry a very interesting legacy when it comes to their servitude. In the past, it was even rumored they helped to serve the royals themselves. In actual times however, the family has decided to step down a bit, although still within the world of the privileged.

Currently, they reside on the simple village of Oldfolk, located within the english plains. Despite its lack of fame, it is still the residing place for many wealthy families at their mansions; including the Fortune. The current family the Barrett serve.

Gareth's father, Gawain, is the main butler of the house, helping to lead the other servants and organize events. He's aware that the role of a butler is losing more and more importance in the modern world, but he still tries to hold on the history his family carries. At least he can rely on his wife Liz to help him out.

Though she also has her fair share of controversies, being originally the maid of the Rotten, a nearby household. Their first meeting is attributed to a party both families attended a long while ago, plus some random encounters they had on Oldfolk down below. With time, the attraction they had became way too apparent to hide, and it led to a discussion over what would be their future together. After talking about it, Liz decided to move and live with her lover's family; a choice that was accepted by the Rotten although with some tension. Nonetheless, things went quite good enough, and later on the maid was also given a little temporal residence on Oldfolk as to take care of their newborn.

...Gareth, Gawain... Yeah, the motif is a bit notorious. Gawain himself claims his birth name was simply a regular choice with nothing behind it, but it did inspire Liz when thinking about baby boy names. Gareth himself doesn't mind nor care about being named after a round table knight; though things could later get tense as he had to convive at school with another boy also with a similar motif.

The little butler's childhood was quite decent, actually, living peacefully with his mother in Oldfolk. However once he was old enough, Gawain convinced his wife to start bringing Gareth to the Fortune mansion, as for him to know and maybe learn in the future about the way of life of the Barrett. A strange choice, but something that had been normalized in the family. Until now, none of the male members had even refused the offer of being a butler for the rest of their lives. Would this be any different?

Gareth's raising as a butler was pretty simple at first. He was given very easy tasks, such as organizing little places, tiding up clothes, cleaning one room at a time... If he ever felt in need for help, Liz was always there to help him. Gawain preffered to give him space instead, a way for him to learn, but it did cause some distance between father and son.

Overall, Gareth's relationship with his parents (and the Fortune elders) was so and so. He never had any feelings of dislike for them, but as he was growing into teen years he started to feel a little distaste for the future butler life. Sure, it did give him very good skills on life -and a huge attention for cleaniness and detail-, but the though of him spending life inside a mansion's walls felt... Overwhelming.

Whenever he visited Oldfolk's village, his day always got better. It was such a small, simple place, yet it always gave him a sense of wonder and curiosity. The world outside the Fortune mansion was so big, and he himself wondered if he could go one day and see it properly...

And besides freedom, Gareth also soon started to crave friendships. Even if both Oldfolk village AND school gave him opportunities to meet new people, he struggled a lot on social skills, specially when putting his feelings into words. To make this worse, a strange belief his father would impose of him is that "If possible, don't stand out too much. The butler's thoughts shouldn't matter much". An unfortunate toxic mentality that made Gareth be even nervous on speaking out at times. But honestly, seeing the other kids playing together while laughing gave him a saddening jealously...

Fortunately worry not, he at least has the current Fortune heir to give him company. He'll also meet other people too in the future and even more thanks to soccer, but uh... Let's end this here.

------

CLARIFICATION: Gareth's name written in japanese is ギャレス (Gyaresu), while the knight!Gareth's name is ガレス (Garesu). This means that these two "Gareth"s are completely different (as names), and the reserve keeper was not named after the legendary figure. However, I still wanted to put the idea here because... This is Knights of Queen, DUHHHH-

I wanted more knight references (?)

[emmym1]

My thoughts on... Spider-Gwen 2015B (#30-34) The Life And Times Of Gwen Stacy

So i've finally come to the end of this run. It's been an incredible journey reading this comic run, and i'm really glad i got to experience it! So Gwen ends up on earth 617, a copy of earth 616. And she meets the classic Gwen Stacy. This encounter does a lot for her. At first 65 Gwen doesn't really want to hang out with 617 Gwen but ultimately comes back to her as she needs help figuring out how to get back. As they figure it out 65 Gwen learns about 617 Gwen's struggles as she had just lost her dad and was coping with that. They share a heartfelt talk about anxieties & fears and 617 Gwen talks about how she doesn't have some weird black ooze to blame it on. This conversation along with her entire time with 617 Gwen is pretty important towards her character development. All this time she has been blaming and putting her problems on the Spider-Woman side of her. She tried to make the Gwen Stacy side of her a normal person with no problems, a person people around her could understand. But after her time with Gwen 617 she realizes that Spider-Woman or not she'll always will have struggles, problems, things others could never understand. She can't blame it on being Spider-Woman, it's her struggle, both as Gwen & Spider-Woman. It's a strong character moment as its what ultimately leads to her being whole again and not two empty halves of a person. All of this also ties back to her convo that she had with Jessica Drew earlier in the run, about wanting to be normal & wondering what it's like to be 616 Gwen. As she thought that that version of her must've been carefree and normal despite what ended up happening to her. But she now realizes that isn't the case. Everyone has problems, struggles, faces darkness and its up to them to deal with it. They don't get to blame it on some spider or some black goo, all they can do is deal with themselves. It's an important lesson for Gwen as she heads back to her earth and tries to become whole again. The first thing she does is reveal her identity to the world. A powerful moment for as she is no longer splitting herself into two halves. Gwen & Spider-Woman aren't two different things to her anymore, they're now the same. They're now the same for the rest of the world too. It's another important step in her becomming whole again. She's finally one person, to herself & the rest of the world. After this she reunites with the Mary Janes as she calls up a band practice (which is ironic considering she's usually the one who's late during band practice). She's makes up with the Mary Janes and is finally able to open up to them. No longer do they see only one half of her, a façade. But they see her as her full self. After this she asks them to help her with one last thing she has to handle off. Matt Murdock, due to the big fight with frank, gwen & cap in his building The Hand has become fed up with him. They're supposed to be hidden but Matt's actions risk that. So Matt removes himself from The Hand which puts the entire Hand after him. But he still has Gwen's portal watch so he could go to any universe and start over again. So that's why Gwen goes after him. She finds him severly wounded as he's desperatly trying to fight off all the ninja's the Hand is sending after him. Matt starts one of his monologues and Gwen stops him by using his weapon against him, sound. As his ears get overwhelmed by the screeching sound courtsey of the mary janes he lies defeated on the ground & Gwen takes her watch back. Gwen points out the same thing i did in my previous essay and points out how Matt wanted her to stop him, wanted the thrill of someone being able to catch him. As she confronts matt her Gwenom suit slowly turns into her Spider-Woman suit. At the end she decides not do anything and leave him be. As he's now chased by ninja's Gwen says "You picked your partners, enjoy the dance." And leaves. She finally was able to move on and no longer play his games. Like Cindy advised.

As the confrontation ended her suit was fully changed to the Spider-Woman suit again. Symbolising she has now become fully whole again. No more halves remain it's now both Gwen & Spider-Woman at the same time, Spider-Gwen as you could say. But there is one more thing left for her to do. To finally face responsibilty for her own actions, no longer blame the Venom, the system, society. To accept the concequences of her own actions. This too is a powerful moment as all the way back during her initial debut when they were trying to put her behind bars for the death of peter parker she said that if she's behind bars she can't help people. Essentially ignoring the system & how it works. Now she no longer does that. She gives herself in and is ready to face the system just like anyone else would. Her lawyer is the one and only She-Hulk (she's actually called just "Hulk" in this universe!) and she shares a really heartfelt conversation with her about wanting other people's approval and be what they think is right. This also an important conversation for Gwen as during her days escaping the police for her involvement in the death of Peter Parker she really wanted people to see that she was doing the right thing, that she's a good person. But in the end it's up to you to believe what you think is the right thing to do and to not care or appease to what others think. You decide what you stand for and who you want to be in life, no one else. Hulk goes out to point out that in her trial they aren't decided whether she belongs in prison but whether they want her on their streets. Which is a sentence that becomes important later on. A lot of her big charges such as manslaughter get dropped by district attorney Foggy Nelson as he felt guilty as he was being intimidated by Matt and helped him put Captain Stacy in the hospital. Gwen is really upset by this because she feels like she deserves all the concequences, not half of it. Ultimately she gets 1 year of jail. This year in jail allowed for a lot of self reflection. At one point during her time there she gets offered a way out by SHIELD by joining a team of superpowered people they are putting together. She declines, she wants to hold herself accountable for what she did, she doesn't want an easy way out and doesn't want to rush her second chance. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes. Next time she wants to do better. The line "They're not deciding if you belong in jail. They're deciding if they want you on their streets" really hit hard for her. It makes her think about what sort of hero she is and has been. She realizes she usually just punches her way out of things and bad guys (which is true, throughout this run you see her help people mostly by just punching bad guys). And she doesn't want that anymore, she wants to help people in other ways too. Be a friendly neighbourhood spider-gwen as you could say. Coincidentally her dad also just got discharged from the hospital after a long recovery. They argue for a bit but talk it out and reflect on themselves, which was a rly great moment. They also visit a store which happens to sell Spider-Gwen hoodies and she buys one. You'd think as a gag at first but she explains that she bought it bc the fact that people made and bought that hoodie means there are people out there who still believe she's doing good, that's she's a hero and she bought that hoodie as a reminder to that. The run ends with her hearing sirens and saving someone in a fire. As they ask who they are she replies that she's Spider-Gwen. No longer half gwen, half Spider-Woman. Now whole, now Spider-Gwen.

[rucow]

an introduction to fiddy (fíli x paddy (my dwelf oc)), my sweet little queerplatonic ship of two characters that i find very comforting :')

this is pretty long! it's all under the read more :)

my fanfiction about them

art of them

art of paddy (and tauriel)

art of paddy, fíli, and kíli

art and ship meme of fíli and paddy

art of paddy

art of paddy when she first met the dwarves

more art of paddy, fíli, and kíli

background :

- fíli is a dwarven prince and heir of the line of durin (a very important bloodline). he is travelling on a quest to retake erebor, his family's ancestral home, alongside his uncle and younger brother and a group of other dwarves (and one hobbit). he is 82 years of age, which makes him a young adult (for dwarves)

- paddy is a dwelf living alone in a part of mirkwood that isn't as affected by sickness as the southern parts. she doesn't know she's half dwarf but she knows she isn't an elf either. she was raised by the elves of mirkwood but without much warmth or love, and she has also been in contact with the woodsmen that also reside in the forest. she has built a small home for herself in a clearing and is living a quiet uneventful life away from civilisation. she is 87 years of age, which makes her a young adult. she matures slower than dwarves, but faster than elves, so despite being older than fíli, she feels closer in age to kíli

how they met :

- while the company was lost in mirkwood, the ri brothers split from the rest of the company (due to having a bit of a fight with fíli and kíli (they were all intoxicated with sickly forest fumes)) and went on their own way until they wandered close to paddy's home. paddy heard them and followed them, not knowing what type of people they were (she had never met dwarves before). fíli was also tracking the ri brothers alone, knowing he shouldn't have lashed out at them now that his mind was clearer, and he spotted paddy following the brothers. not knowing whether she was a foe or not, he snuck up behind her and put a blade to her neck as he made sure she's not armed and interrogated her as to why she's following his friends. once he realised she's not dangerous, he let her go and was much more polite to her, and being very excited to meet dwarves for the first time, paddy invited fíli and his friends to her home where she could feed and host them. fíli left to consult his uncle about this matter, and returned to paddy with the entire company behind him. then they made their way to her home which was not far off, but not without encountering dangers along the way.

their first bonding experiences :

- after learning that paddy is unable to read and that she can't read an inheritance letter she had received, fíli and kíli offered to read it for her and together the three of them learnt that paddy was part dwarf and that her dwarven parent had passed away, leaving behind a set of powerful runestones as paddy's inheritance, alongside some gold coins.

- paddy fed and housed the company for the night and she was immensely happy and excited to meet them and to learn more about them, but by the end of the day after the dwarves had gone to sleep, she became overwhelmed and retreated to her chambers and found herself crying. she had learnt a lot about herself in a very short time, and fíli and kíli offering to help her read her letter was the first real experience she had with people being kind to her, which made her realise she'd been lonely and isolated this entire time, and that she wouldn't be able to go back to her normal quiet life once the dwarves left her in the morning.

fíli couldn't sleep easily that night, and he wandered around for a bit and heard paddy crying in her doorless hut. he tries to console her and brings her water, and they talk for a long while that night. fíli tells her about his mother and about kíli, and about how he wishes he could remain in this refreshing clearing for a while longer, but he doesn't say a word about the quest he's on. paddy pleads him to let her come with them, at least to help guide them out of the forest (although she's never left the forest herself), and while fíli thinks thorin wouldn't agree to have another member join the company, he thinks that a guide would be most welcomed. fíli takes a while giving paddy a definite answer though, and in the meantime he offers her his fur coat and one of his silver beads, seeing as she was cold after giving all her blankets to the many dwarves she was housing, and her loose hair was tangled and messy. paddy didn't know how to braid her own hair or how to use the bead, so fíli helped her with it and put her hair in one simple travelling braid, just to keep her hair out of the way and not have it tangle anymore. he doesn't tell anyone about this, not wanting his actions to be misinterpreted as anything other than friendly kindness, but the next morning everyone notices fíli's bead in paddy's hair, and kíli teases him endlessly about it.

how it's going :

- guiding the company through the forest, paddy and fíli have plenty of opportunities to learn more about one another. when they get imprisoned by the elves and fíli sees how unkindly they treat paddy, he realises that he can't leave her living here all alone surrounded by people that look down on her and mistreat her based on being part dwarf, and he secretly makes up his mind that he wants to help her find a better home. he doesn't tell her or thorin about this, but kíli can read his mind quite well and supports him in his decision (kíli and paddy had also become good friends almost instantly!)

- onwards to laketown, paddy does all she can to help treat kíli, but her healing abilities aren't enough, since she could never receive proper training for her skills. thankfully, tauriel was there to save kíli's life. afterwards, paddy tends to kíli by keeping him well fed and hydrated and warm, and she does the same for fíli (who had gotten sick due to the stress and anxiety he was feeling for kíli)

fíli had hoped that perhaps paddy could find her place amongst the people of laketown, but seeing the true nature of the master disappointed him greatly and he knew he can't leave paddy here either, especially when she was determined to stick by his and kíli's side no matter what. when the town is attacked by smaug, fíli and the others manage to escape to the safety of the shores, and once again fíli hopes he can leave paddy here with the survivors and with bard. at this point he doesn't know what he'd find in the mountain, and if thorin is alive, fíli knows he wouldn't be the same anymore due to probable goldsickness and that he wouldn't accept paddy, so with a heavy heart fíli tells her to go "home". paddy respects his decision and leaves the brothers, and starts making her way towards a different direction from them.

- however, paddy couldn't return to her old life, and she finds herself walking towards erebor. fíli and kíli had already reached the mountain at this point, and paddy knew she can't let herself be seen, otherwise she'd be disrespecting fíli's wish of her leaving his side (she doesn't know this was not his wish at all and that he was doing it purely for her safety), so she spots a tower. ravenhill. and she enters it, and stays there for days. she stays there for a long time before she hears people approaching loudly. she hides as orcs scout the tower and set traps. she doesn't move for so long, and she's terrified. but once she hears fíli and kíli enter the tower, she knows she has to warn them, so she leaves her hiding spot and goes to them as quietly and as fast as she can, and tells them about the orcs. they all quickly exit the tower and in the end, they all survive, though not without serious wounds.

- after recovery, fíli is now certain that he can't turn paddy away again, and he decides that he will do anything to have her stay, even if it meant fighting with thorin. thankfully, this won't be necessary as thorin had changed immensely and is no longer suffering from goldsickness, and he realises that fíli's decisions are valid and deserve being respected. kíli's as well.

they all work hard to rebuild erebor, and paddy makes herself useful everywhere she can. however, she's scared of underground places, and fíli notices this and once again, he wonders if it's cruel to have her stay in erebor if she's so scared. but paddy will not leave his side, and she braves her fear for him. fíli plans to build windows in as many chambers as he can for her.

what the future holds for them :

- fíli will be crowned king of erebor one day, and paddy will be there to support him as any friend would. she hadn't known he was a prince until late into their journey, and finding out about his royal descent made her panic and feel unworthy of him, but she vows to be his friend no matter what and she wants to support him in anything he does. on the other hand, fíli doesn't want to force this kind of stressful lifestyle on paddy and on kíli, and he wants to offer them as much comfort and freedom as possible by taking all the responsibilities upon his own shoulders, task which he will find difficult considering both paddy and kíli want to help and support him as much as possible. together they form a close bond, and slowly but surely fíli learns to accept paddy into his life. he now realises that he wants and needs her in his life, seeing as she's the most genuine friend he's ever had and they both find comfort in one other. paddy doesn't see him as a prince, but as a regular soul not much different from herself, and that helps fíli relax and be himself around her—something that he greatly appreciates.

their relationship forms slowly and gently. neither of them has had a relationship before and they're very mindful of not causing any discomfort to one another, and paddy really doesn't want to ruin fíli's reputation. but they are friends and partners before all else, and when dís meets paddy, she quickly realises that fíli has met his one, and that they will be inseparable from now on.

what paddy feels for fíli is immense. she sees him as someone special, someone magical and worthy of all the love and appreciation she can give him. she sees a beautiful soul in him and she wants to help him see himself the way she sees him so badly, and fíli feels the same about her! he thinks she's so special, and so different from anyone he's ever met before. he's protective of her just as he's protective of kíli, especially since paddy doesn't defend herself. she cannot fight and she doesn't defend herself from verbal insults either, which in turn makes fíli be much more vocal than he normally is. they both help each other gain confidence in themselves.

they are both acespec (fíli is asexual and paddy is demisexual) and their relationship is more platonic than it is romantic, although they are very affectionate with one another. they keep their affections private and only act upon them in their own privacy, never doing more in public than holding hands or sharing a hug. anything intimate they do is between themselves only.

- they go on to have five daughters: four biological, and one that is adopted. the adopted one is the only one that is a full dwarf, and she is also the youngest of them all.

- the eldest is Háni, and she inherited fíli's blonde hair and grey eyes. she wears her hair in a similar style as his, with royal braids on the sides of her head and one braid at the back of her head to signify she's an eldest child in a family of multiple children. she's a very polite and calm person, and she's very interested in the history of her people and in becoming a good future queen. she's very attentive with her younger siblings.

- the second eldest is Lóvi, a more fiery soul with a love for music and baking. she has light brown eyes and warm brown hair which she wears in royal braids as well, along with bows and other hair accessories. she's quite trendy. she's charismatic, but she isn't very fond of her status and doesn't enjoy the political affairs she has to partake in, though fíli never forces any of his children to partake in their royal duties if they don't want to.

- the middle child is Díli, and she inherited paddy's dark hair and personality very much. she is very quiet and lost in her own imagination most of the time, and prefers the outdoors. she loves insects and critters and all outdoor life. she has no mind for politics whatsoever, and she wears her hair in two low braided pigtails. she is also the tallest out of all of fíli's and paddy's children.

- the fourth daughter is Líki, who fíli named after kíli (of course), and who coincidentally takes after kíli a whole lot. she's very energetic and causes a lot of trouble, and she's also the most emotionally explosive out of all her sisters. she wants to be a great archer like her uncle kíli, but lacks the patience and discipline needed to use a bow, which frustrates her. she spends a lot of time with kíli and her cousins! she wears her hair loose, but fíli manages to get her to tie it in the back at least, so that her hair won't get in her face. she has brown hair and grey eyes.

- the youngest and the only adopted child is Elí, a dwarfling with deceased parents that fíli and paddy adopted when she was but a pebble. she's a very happy soul and very well behaved, and although she has had health issues as a youngling, she's gotten better under her new parents' attentive care. she has a biological aunt named Myndis that keeps in touch with fíli and paddy, and who visits Elí often. Elí has blonde hair and blue eyes, and big round ears.

- no one knows this, but fíli has secretly written his will even though he is still Very Young. as soon as he found out he would be a parent, he didn't want his child to have the same pressure placed upon their shoulders as he had, and he wrote his will so that if anything happens to him, the crown would go to kíli until his child would be old enough to decide whether they want the crown or not. fíli has immense faith in kíli and genuinely believes he would make a superb king, he really believes in his brother and knows that he is the only one capable of mending the bad blood between their people and the elves. he really really believes in kíli. (but of course, nothing happens to fíli and he lives a very long life with his family! he's just being very very cautious as usual)

that would be all for now! thank you for reading this far!! :D

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad #24

Nicole woke up on a carpeted floor with her head resting atop a pillow. Her legs were heavy as cement, her arm

s like they had barbells tied to them. Everything was a rush of pain and exhaustion. She hadn’t felt like this since the first time she’d run eleven miles back in high school. Part of her was shining with accomplishment and pride, but the vast majority of her was questioning every choice she’d made up until this point. 

Until she saw Amy lying on the floor next to her in a similar state of affairs. 

Nicole sat up in a rapid, jerking motion, only for lightheadedness to overwhelm her and nearly smack her back down to the ground. She pinched the bridge of her nose and drank in her surroundings: all five of her teammates were lying on the floor, with pillows supporting their heads and plain periwinkle blankets keeping them warm. Nicole was in the center, Amy on her left side and Cass on her right. The room was wide, with white walls and a green carpet. A rocking chair sat in front of the lone window letting in the colorful light of mid-dawn, and in that rocking chair sat Father Gonzalez, barely conscious. 

“Father?” Nicole asked. 

He jerked awake and rubbed his eyes. “Mija. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” Nicole said, yawning. “Where are we?”

“The rectory behind the chapel,” Father Gonzalez said. “The hospital was overflowing, so they started bringing people here for sanctuary. When I saw you all, I had you brought back here to keep an eye on you all.”

“Thank you,” Nicole said. “I’m not crazy about hospitals, so seriously, thank you.”

“Of course, Mija. Least I can do, given you six saved the city last night.”

“Last night- it’s Halloween still, right?”

“Yeah. Bright early on All Hallows’ Eve,” Gonzalez said. “At least it’s over now.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Nicole said. She told him of how her most recent encounter with Winona had ended. 

“Well… That…,” Gonzalez started. “I don’t really know what to make of that.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“But Mija, if what you say is true… You fought off demonic possession on your own. That’s… That’s incredible! Only one other person has ever done that before!”

“Who?” Nicole asked. “Was it another magical girl? Are there, like, precursors to our team that we don’t know about or something?”

“No, actually, it was me,” came a voice from the doorway. Sister Quinn stood in her nun’s habit covered in dirt and grime and blood, her brown face haggard and worn-down. 

“Sister Quinn, you,” Nicole said, “You- that’s amazing! Blue Blazes! How did you-”

“Another time, another place, I’ll be more than happy to tell you about it, Mija,” Sister Quinn responded. “For now, though, I could use your help with healing some of the patients we have out in the church.”

Nicole looked down at her hands and searched within her heart. The pink marble of Light was still in there, but it was dimmer than it had been yesterday. She reached for it, and the Holy Power flowed through her, but her muscles ached and her skull throbbed. She drew in short, sharp breaths as she tried to transform, as pastel ribbons began to form around her but fell apart before she could complete the change. “I don’t think I can,” Nicole said. “What we did last night took a lot of me… Out of all of us.”

“Poor girl,” Sister Quinn said, ambling over to her and putting her hand on Nicole’s forehead. “You must’ve pushed yourself too much, pulled a spiritual muscle of sorts. No fever at least- it’s a miracle you’re even awake right now.”

Nicole sighed. She wanted to go help the people in the church. She wanted to wake up her friends so they could go out and search for Winona and Aidan. She wanted to fix everything so it could all go back to normal… 

… But she couldn’t. She’d over-exerted herself and been benched, at least for the time being. She needed to recharge, or she’d be unable to help anyone. 

Still though… 

“Is there anything I can do to help, though?” she asked. “Bringing people water or something? If anyone’s having trouble walking, I can start working them through the basics of PT.”

“Well I guess we have our proof the possession didn’t take,” Father Gonzalez said wryly. 

“Why don’t you rest a little longer,” Sister Quinn said. “You can help out when you’re back to full capacity, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof. Okay?” 

Nicole closed her eyes and breathed in and out through her nose. She’d gone through a whole journey last night learning this exact lesson. Time to prove she’d earned the A. “Okay,” Nicole said. “Could I… I dunno, get something to eat then? Start getting my strength back up.”

Father Gonzalez stood up and smiled. “Abe has a stew cooking in the rectory kitchen. I’ll see if they can spare some.”

“Thank you,” Nicole smiled. It was okay, this was okay, for now this was okay. 

Wait, what about-

A thumping sounded over the wooden hallway floor as someone approached. A young man balancing on a cane limped towards them and into the room. 

“Zack,” Nicole sobbed. 

Her brother held his hand over his gut, where his shirt had torn open and everything was stained with blood. A broken, beaten smile graced his face, while he balanced all his weight on the cane. “Hey, sis.”

Two words and everything was okay. Everything was forgiven. Everything was right. 

“Zack!” Nicole found her feet and rushed over and wrapped her arms around her brother. And for the first time in years, he hugged her back. They hadn’t done this since Zack was a little kid- he’d developed an intense aversion to people hugging him sometime around the beginning of middle school. 

“Easy, easy- I got a bullet fished outta me earlier,” Zack said. 

“Oh no!” Nicole said. She pooled Pink Light into her hands, but pain instantly speared her skull. 

“Hey, hey don’t,” Zack said. “You’re hurt too. I’ll be fine until you get your strength up. Besides, I’ve been shot in the gut twice now coming to see you- maybe I oughta live with this one for a little bit.”

Nicole gave a grim chuckle. That was… Shockingly mature of him. Almost too mature. 

“Why don’t we go somewhere where we can talk?” Zack asked. In the light, there was something different about his face than before as well. Usually his beard stubble would be growing back in by now- it always came in thick for him the next morning, but there was none. And his hair looked lighter than its usual dark brown, though that could have simply been the dawn light coming through the windows and refracting off of it. And his voice was… Off. Just slightly higher than it’d been last she’d heard it. 

“Sure,” Nicole said. 

The two siblings limped together out of the room and down the hall into the kitchen, where Abe served them two bowls of beef stew with carrots and potatoes. Nicole wafted the rich, salty scent before spooning a mouthful down her throat. “It’s like I forgot how good food was and then I tasted this and…,” Nicole trailed off. “Mmm!”

“Right?” Zack said. “Almost as good as Mom’s.”

“Almost,” Nicole agreed. “No offense, Abe.”

Abe shrugged, then excused themself, their tan duster brushing the surface of the floor as they left. 

“So,” Nicole said. “Mom gave me a call last night before everything went pear-shaped.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nicole said. She reiterated what Mom had told her, and then said to Zack, “Is it true?”

“Yeah. It’s all true, Nicole.”

Warmth and joy ran through her as her brother said her real name for the first time. Nicole gulped and smiled, and then she put her hand on Zack’s head and tousled his hair. Then she flicked him on the forehead. 

“Ow!” Zack said. And yet he didn’t… Like it was someone else saying it, someone who hadn’t truly registered the feeling. “What was that for?”

“For getting into a fight and running away and worrying our parents and worrying me! And for everything else you’ve pulled, Zachary,” Nicole grinned. 

“Okay, okay, I deserve that.” 

What the heck is going on? Zack would never say that! “Then explain yourself, boy,” Nicole said, eyes narrow. 

“I just… I couldn’t listen to what they were saying about you. I felt so… So ashamed of myself. Of what I am. It just pissed me off-”

“Language-”

“Don’t,” Zack snapped, a little too much venom in his voice. “I was… I was defending you. Protecting you. The way you do for me.”

“Zack,” Nicole said evenly. “That’s hogwash.”

“God, will you just talk like a normal person for once-”

“Zack, seriously, you need to listen to me-”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

“Thank you,” Nicole said. Maybe it’s just my imagination. Maybe I’m just exhausted and frustrated and this is all bringing up a lot of baggage for me. “Look, I just need to ask: what changed? A month ago, you wanted nothing to do with me. You were ashamed of me. I thought… I thought you hated me. So is it that you actually changed your mind, or is it just that you started getting grief about me in school?”

Zack stirred his stew, then looked up at her with his mouth pressed into a straight line. “Guilt. That’s what changed. The whole time… I felt guilty about what I said to you. I wasn’t ashamed of you, I was ashamed of myself for how I’d acted. I’d been told beforehand I was supposed to think one thing about… About queer people. And then suddenly it turns out we’ve got one in our family. And… I dunno, I guess the Catholic guilt just got to me. You don’t just… Abandon your family because you disagree with what they are.”

“And now? Do you still disagree with what I am? Who I am?”

Zack stared intently into his stew.

“Zack, please answer the question.”

“Honestly?” he said, not looking up. “Yes.”

A fresh lance of pain went through Nicole’s chest. “Are you freaking kidding me?!”

“What, you asked.”

“You could’ve… Could’ve….”

“Lied? You taught me better than that,” Zack said. “Besides, I know I’m wrong and you’re right. I may not like it, but I can learn to live with it.”

Still a butthead. Maybe this is Zack. “Fair enough,” Nicole sighed. “So then why’d you come to see me?”

“I needed to apologize to you in person,” Zack said. “The guilt was eating me alive, keeping me up at night, giving me nightmares, like there was a porcupine wandering around inside my stomach stabbing at the lining all day, every day. I hurt our family, and it’s probably the only thing any of us have, so I wanted… I dunno, wanted to look you in the face and see if I could get an apology out.”

“Okay,” Nicole said. “I’m waiting.”

Zack’s face twisted with what looked like physical pain, and an air of despondency hung from his voice. “I’m sorry, Nicole.”

The first time Zack had ever had to apologize for something, he’d tugged on his ear while doing it. Every time since then, he’d taken his left hand and tugged on his left earlobe. 

Not this time. 

He was either lying… 

… Or this wasn’t Zack.

No powers. Whole team is unconscious. And I’m right next to a church full of wounded civilians, Nicole thought. Blue Blazes. “You’re sorry for what?”

“... For insulting you?”

“Don’t say it like it’s a question, young man.”

“Okay, okay- I’m sorry for insulting you. I’m sorry for… For…”

“For what?”

“For saying you’re not a woman.”

“So am I a woman?” Nicole asked.

“I…”

“Am I a woman?” Nicole asked, voice flattening.

“Well…”

“Are you?” Nicole asked. Perfect- if this is a demon, he’ll try to play it off as a joke. If it’s actually Zack, he’ll get wicked mad at me. 

Zack put his spoon in his bowl and stared into it like it was the most fascinating thing in all the world. A tear dropped down from his eye and shattered on the table. “I don’t know.”

… I’m sorry, what? “I’m sorry, what?”

Zack’s face was an impressionist mural of anguish, all broad angry brushstrokes depicting some brutal inner struggle. “What if I said I might be a girl? What would you do then?”

I’d tell you that I see you and that I care about, and if you want to explore that possibility I’ll support you no matter what conclusion you come away with. But even if that is true, there is no way in heck Zack would ever admit that to me. Not like this. “I’d say I love you no matter what.”

Zack sighed, and rolled his eyes, and said, “Of course you would.”

“What does that mean?” Nicole said, eyes narrowing. 

“I’m just saying that from a certain perspective, that kinda makes it worse. That even after all this, you’re still taking the moral high ground.”

Well this could go either way, then. “Excuse you?”

“I’m just saying, sometimes it is not easy having you for an older sibling.”

“Sister.”

“Right, right of course. But like… You just don’t ever switch off the whole ‘nice, forgiving Christian thing’ do you?”

“It’s who I am.”

“Uh-huh. Sure it is.”

“Same with a woman,” Nicole said. “That’s who I am too.”

“Yes.”

“Is it who you are?”

Zack looked about ready to vomit. “Why do you ask?”

“Why would you say something like what you said just now if not-”

“It was a hypothetical-”

“Weird hypothetical-”

“You’re the one who posed the question in the first place- why’d you do that?” Zack asked. 

Nicole stared straight into her brother’s eyes… And saw something screaming back there behind the pools of blue. “I wanted to make sure that you’re still you.”

“Oh? And what conclusion have you come to, Nick?”

Nicole cringed, then said, “I’m not sure.”

“Heh. You’re not sure. Might be the first time I’ve ever heard that from you. But Zack on the other hand, he’s never sure-”

And there it is. “Don’t you mean ‘you’re never sure?’”

Zack blinked. “Shit.”

Nicole grabbed her brother’s body by the lapel, yanked him from his seat, and slammed him against the wooden wall of the kitchen. She reached into her heart and found a flicker of Holy Light, just a little sliver, just enough to spark on her hands and cause the demon wearing her brother’s flesh to hiss with pain. “Get out of my brother,” Nicole growled. 

“Heh,” the demon smirked. “Your ‘brother.’ Right. Of course. What gave it away?”

“Lotta little things,” Nicole said. “I did practically raise the kid.”

“I have all his memories-”

“Yeah, but not even Zack is this much of a butthead.”

“Satan, you just refuse to talk like a normal person, don’t’cha?”

“So help me, I will drag you into that chapel and throw you on the cross if you don’t LET HIM GO RIGHT NOW!” Nicole screamed. 

“Why do you want this little shit back, exactly?” the demon asked. “Seriously, he hates you. Resents you. Is jealous of you. I can feel it, all that rage and envy and entitlement festering inside him. You don’t even know how much you’ve messed him up-”

Nicole screamed, “FATHER GONZALEZ!”

The priest came running. “What’s going on, Mija!?”

“Gonna need your help taking out some trash,” Nicole said. 

They dragged Zack’s struggling body into the church basement and deposited him in a chair, Father Gonzalez holding a crucifix an inch from Zack’s face as he struggled in Nicole’s arms. They tied him to the chair, and Father Gonzalez pulled out his Bible. He flipped through pages and then slammed his hand into one to stop. He started saying the exorcism rites, the Latin syllables that made Zack’s body wince and cringe. 

“He’ll never forgive you for this,” the demon said, staring into Nicole. 

“I’m saving him,” Nicole said evenly, holding the crucifix in hand, along with the cord for the hanging bucket of Holy Water. 

“You’re dragging him out of the frying pan and into the fire,” the demon growled. “He’s not ready to face the world, not as what he truly is.”

“And what’s that?”

“He’s a tranny, like you,” Zack’s face contorted as the demon spoke, eyes swimming with darkness, sparks of Hellfire erupting from beneath the skin. “This place had all fallen down around him not twelve hours erstwhile, thanks to that lunatic prophet and her manwhore hobo, and without even meaning to he put the whole thing back together again.”

“That doesn’t mean anything- Magical Boys exist-”

“But they need a weapon to channel their powers into,” the demon said. “This little shit didn’t have any such thing. He channeled directly through his hands, and he put humpty-dumpty back together again. But he knew what it meant, and his egg broke open and now he’s desperately trying to piece it back together. Too bad you showed him what it really meant, and now he can’t unsee it. He knows what he really is because of YOU, and he hates you for it!”

Gonzalez screamed a paragraph of Latin, and the demon screeched and spasmed in its chair. Nicole pulled out a Bible as well and looked for the page Gonzalez was on, and began reciting the rites herself. The demon screamed and screamed and screamed, until one of its eyes went from black to blue. “N-Nick? Please, stop hurting me! I’m so scared- you promised you’d never hurt me-”

That was when Sister Quinn walked up from behind them and splashed a goblet of Holy Water onto Zack’s chest. He screamed as both eyes went black again. 

“Don’t listen to it,” Sister Quinn said, “And give me that book. You talk to your sibling. Let us handle the rest.”

“Okay,” Nicole nodded. She turned to her… Sibling and didn’t look away, didn’t blink. “Zack… I know you can hear me. I need you to listen. I love you. And I forgive you. What you said… It hurt me, but I’ve healed since you said it.”

“He doesn’t care,” the demon said. “He doesn’t love you!”

The Latin kept going, and going, and going, and Zack’s body twisted and cracked more and more. Nicole inched closer and knelt down in front of him. “No matter who you are, I’ll protect you. No matter what you do, I’ll protect you. That’s what big sisters are for, okay? We will figure this out together. This demon can’t have you. You don’t have to decide who you are right now, just so long as you come back to our family.”

And Zack screamed, and screamed, and screamed… And his hands began to hum with Holy Light. 

***

In Cass’ dreams, an owl soared through the wreckage of the city of Boston as smoke strangled the sunshine out of the sky and fires burned everything in sight. It flew and flew and flew until it reached a crater where Ditko Hall had formerly resided. 

Where the casing of a bomb sat in the center. 

It had been the first to go off, but not the last. 

That was when she woke up, on her back in the church rectory. She sat up instantly, and registered her unconscious teammates on the ground with her. Her ribs ached and her hands were a mess of bruises and calluses and her skull was like an overused bongo drum. She grinded her teeth together and raked her hand through her hair. 

“Ah, Ms. Ortiz,” the Bishop said as he wheeled himself into the room. His electric wheelchair hummed as it pushed him forward, his haggard face that of someone severely sleep-deprived. “You’re awake- how are you-”

“Where are Nicole and Zack?” she asked, stars dancing in front of her eyes as she climbed onto two feet. 

“Er… Well, Zack is possessed, so they’re performing an exorcism in the church basement.”

Cass ran forward, and immediately fell onto her face. A fresh thud of pain swam through her skull. “Fuck,” she muttered. 

The Bishop offered her a hand up. “What’s the matter-”

“Bombs!” Cass said. “There’s one under Ditko Hall, and there’s more throughout the city.”

“What?! Where?!” 

“I don’t know, at least not for all of them, but Zack’s demon might know! C’mon.”

They raced to the church basement, where Zack was tied to a chair snarling and glowing with radiance equal parts white and black while Father Gonzalez and Sister Quinn performed the rites. Nicole held her sibling’s hand as she knelt in front of them, whispering to them what were presumably words of reassurance. 

“Wait!” Cass cried as puffs of acrid smoke began to billow out of Zack’s mouth. 

Everything went silent, save for the demon’s cries. 

“Cass, what are you doing?!” Nicole demanded. 

“Bombs! There are bombs! Winona and the Sin-Eater put bombs around the city!”

“We’ve already called the police about the one under Ditko Hall,” the Bishop explained. “But there are at least six others, according to Ms. Ortiz.”

“Dios,” Father Gonzalez said, rubbing his face. 

“Where are the other bombs!” Cass said, marching over to Zack’s battered body. “WHERE?!”

“Heheheheheh,” the demon giggled as the white light slowly faded and black sparks shot out from him. Nicole grunted as steam leaked from their joined hands, and she pulled away from him. “I’ll never tell.”

“If you don’t wanna wind up back in the Floodwater, you’ll TALK!” Cass said. 

“Oh please, you’re sending me there anyway, so this idiot can have her precious little brother back,” the demon said. “There’s literally nothing for me to gain by cooperating with you clowns! And it looks like you’ve got a choice- you can try to torture the information out of me without accidentally killing this stupid little fag, or you can go out and look for the bombs. On foot, presumably, given how well your powers are working-”

Nicole took a deep breath, and then erupted with pink light. Ribbons surrounded her, and Cass heard the song of angels ring from above as she appeared resplendent in her Magical Girl form. 

“HOW?!” the demon howled. “HOW ARE YOU-”

“THE POWER OF LOVE!” she snapped. “NOW SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF MY SIBLING!” Nicole poured White Light into her hands, but it flickered and dimmed the harder she concentrated on it. 

“HA!” the demon said.

“Fine then,” Nicole said, breathing in long, slow breaths. The light around her hands turned to Pink, and she offered a hand to Cass. “I’ve only got enough for one, and you’re here, and you’re a Prophet, and you’re almost as fast a flier as me-”

Cass grinned. “Almost?”

“Shut up and gimme a high five, Ortiz.”

“Heh. Absolutely, Nygaard.”

Cass took her hand, and her ribs stitched back together, and her hands smoothed and relaxed as the carpal tunnel was massaged out of them. She reached for the Word of God as it echoed inside her soul, and she let it scream out into the world as she transformed. 

She stood in her red dress with her red hat and summoned her broom. The world spun around her briefly, but she shook her head and steadied herself. “Let’s do this.”

Nicole turned to Father Gonzalez and Sister Quinn. “You take care of Zack- I want them back to normal by the time I’m back.” She turned to the demon. “Zack. It’s like I said before. No matter who you are, who you wanna be, it’s okay. Who you were before, even with the mistakes you made, is okay too. You can be that person, or whomever you wanna be. I love you, and I will protect you no matter what, but if I’ve learned anything this past month it’s that you need to love and protect yourself as well. And that starts with forgiving yourself. So please try. I know it’s scary in there, drowning in the Floodwater, but I promise you that you have the strength and virtue to rise above it. I will be back for you, I promise.”

And with that, they left. They told Abe to wake up the others as soon as possible to have them look around the church for bombs while the clergy members worked on exorcizing the demon from Zack. They stepped out into the city and launched into the air. The wind wrapped around Cass as all the troubles of the world on the ground reached up to pull her back down.

“Are you okay?” Cass asked. 

“No,” Nicole said. 

Huh. She’s usually not that straight-up, Cass thought. 

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked.

“I will be once we find all these bombs,” Cass said. 

“Where are we looking for them?” Nicole asked. “Should we split up to search?”

“My vision put the big craters and blast zones at city landmarks- Faneuil Hall, Paul Revere’s House, and Fenway Park were the three I know I saw, but I don’t know exactly where in any of those cases,” Cass said as they shot towards the Freedom Trail.

“Then let’s start with those- the cops are already spread thin because of last night, and if the National Guard is coming I don’t see them yet.”

“Gotcha. I’ll take Paul Revere, you take Faneuil,” Cass said. “After that, let’s meet up at Fenway and take it from there.”

“Sounds good!” Nicole said, shooting off like a pink rocket, gritting her teeth and bunching her fists. 

“Never seen her this determined,” Cass said idly. Then she furrowed her brow. “Better try to keep up!”

And off she flew, a crimson streak across the dawn-lit sky. 

***

Amy woke up to a rough jostling. She opened her eyes and saw Abe standing over her, shaking her awake. She felt like she’d been run over with a road roller, but the look on Abe’s face told her she needed to stand up. 

They explained the situation to her as the two of them woke up the others. When everyone was awake and told to fan out and look, however, Amy turned to Abe and said, “Take me to them. To Zack, I mean. I need to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Which one? Zack or the demon?” Abe asked. 

“Both,” she said as she marched into the basement while the others searched for the bombs. “I think my methods of persuasion will help as well.”

Father Gonzalez and Sister Quinn screamed in Latin while the demon wearing Zack’s skin rose up and down and spat out plumes of Hellfire. Spear in hand, Amy snuffed out all the black flames and walked over to the chair. 

She grabbed Zack by the hair and pulled him in close. “Hi. We haven’t really talked before. My name’s Amy, and I’m infatuated with your big sister. What say we have a heart to heart while the clergy does its job?”

***

 Announcement

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read two chapters ahead on this story, three chapters ahead on "Love During Robot Fighting Time", and the entirety of "A Dream of Summer Rain," by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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[keeganhogan]

Pulse

There are a lot of similarities between Ringu and Pulse in the way that they display anxieties. However, I feel that the eventual product of the spread of technology that Ringu alludes to is the apocalypse that is realized in Pulse. However, whereas the video tape and technology in Ringu was a way for the rage of Sadako, a figure of the past, to take on real effect in the present day, Pulse is very much more focused on the collision between worlds.

This is on display early when we see the computer program that eventually leads to Kawashima’s encounters with the world of the ghosts on his PC: UR@NUS. Using the name of another planet with the ‘@’ symbol is a clear reference to how the world of technology and the internet are becoming this means for the alternate world of ghosts to come into contact with our world. The symbol of the door with red tape around it, The Forbidden Room, also as portals to the other world is strong as well. The horror of the fact that ghosts are coming to our world and spreading by means of technology is amplified by the sheer omnipresence of technology in society, which is portrayed in the film well. Computers are everywhere, and Kawashima only decides to try out the internet because everyone else seems to be doing it. He has no real interest or knowledge in technology, but because of how massive and common it’s becoming, someone like him, who might have never taken interest in it before, is now at risk because of it. We see mobile phones that everyone carries around with them, TVs in every house, huge PC labs at universities, and even Kawashima’s PC is right next to his bed – the most vulnerable and personal spot in a home. There is no escape from the ghosts when they begin to spread through modern technology because it dominates every aspect of human life. Computers are even being used at Michi’s plant shop, which operates on the roof of an urban building. The “natural” world is disappearing and becoming tainted by modern technology, as we see with the plant shop.

There is also an overwhelming sense of powerlessness in this movie. Nothing that the characters try to do something about the situation or save people ends up working. In fact, due to this omnipresence of technology in society, once the ghosts began to use it as their means of coming into our world, it was already too late, and there was no way to prevent the apocalypse that ensued. Michi tries to check on Taguchi, who hangs himself when she steps away for a moment. She tries to help Yabe, to no avail, as well as Junko. Even in the end, when it seems that she and Kawashima might be able to survive this apocalypse together, even he falls victim to the ghosts. Kawashima is also unable to save Harue, despite how close they came from escaping society. In the end, Michi is able to survive by escaping society and land as a whole, isolated on a ship at sea. At one point, Junko says to Michi, “let’s just act normal”, or something similar. The overwhelming truth of being too powerless to do anything makes willful ignorance an alluring choice, and perhaps refers to people’s willful ignorance at the dangers and threats of the spread of modern technology.

The other interesting theme in this movie is isolation. This is also a theme in Ringu, but I think it is done very differently here. After a person comes into contact with a ghost and becomes condemned to death, they are distant from others socially, verbally, emotionally, etc. We see this with Taguchi at the start, who is very reserved in his interaction with Michi. We also see it in Yabe, when Michi is desperately trying to figure out what is wrong with him. He basically ignores her and Junko when he first arrives late to work. We also see it with Junko, and she displays far more of this feeling of isolation with Michi. When she is with Michi she stares off in a trance, seemingly not aware of her presence, but when Michi walks away, she becomes distraught, reaching out to her. Even around others she is isolated. Michi also says “I’ll just keep on living, all alone” moments before her death too. Despite the ways that the internet and technology connect so many people together on a daily basis, Pulse seems to suggest that its spread will simply create more loneliness and social isolation. The result of that loneliness in the film is always death or suicide, leading to a society where there are simply no more people to connect with because they have all fallen victim to technology and its subsequent loneliness.

[rosary7813563]

The Reign of the Phoenix

Chapter 1: The Awakened

Kara woke up to a burning sensation coursing through her veins. At first, she thought it was a fever, but when the pain became unbearable, she knew something was different. Her heart rate skyrocketed as she felt a power awakening within her. She screamed in agony as the energy coursed through her body, searing her nerves.

Hours passed, and Kara was still writhing in pain when a knock on her door startled her. Her roommate, Jess, poked her head in, concern etched on her face.

"Kara, are you okay? I heard you screaming," Jess said, walking towards her.

Kara tried to respond, but her vocal cords refused to cooperate. Instead, she lifted her hand, and a burst of flame erupted from her fingertips, scorching Jess's hand.

"Kara! What the hell just happened?" Jess yelled, clutching her burnt hand.

"I don't know!" Kara yelled back, tears streaming down her face. "I think something awakened in me."

Chapter 2: The Phoenix

As days turned into weeks, Kara struggled to keep her powers in check. She soon realized that she had become something of a mythical creature, a rare being with fire-based abilities known as a Phoenix.

But with great power came great responsibility. Kara struggled to find a balance between training her powers and keeping her identity a secret. She was afraid of being labeled as a freak and shunned by people.

One night, as Kara wandered around her campus, she stumbled upon a group of muggers attacking a young woman. Without thinking, Kara launched herself into action, her flames blazing around her as she fought off the attackers.

In that moment, she realized that her powers could be used for good, and she decided to don a mask and become a vigilante known as the Phoenix.

Chapter 3: The Rise of the Phoenix

As the Phoenix gained notoriety, Kara's life became more complicated. She struggled to maintain her alter-ego and her normal life as a student. But she found solace in fighting crime and protecting the innocent.

One night, while battling a gang of thugs, the Phoenix encountered an enemy unlike any other. Dressed in black, with a mask that hid his face, the Black Dragon was a formidable foe.

The Phoenix and the Black Dragon clashed in an epic battle, the flames and shadows weaving around them in an explosive dance. The Phoenix emerged victorious, but she knew that the Black Dragon was not one to be underestimated.

Chapter 4: The Trials of the Phoenix

As the Phoenix continued to fight crime in her city, she faced new challenges and enemies. She battled a corrupt politician, a vicious gang leader, and a doomsday cult determined to destroy the city.

But the worst enemy the Phoenix faced was herself. Her own fears and doubts threatened to overwhelm her, and she found herself questioning her purpose and her worth.

It was only through the support of her friends and allies, and her own determination, that the Phoenix found the strength to overcome her doubts and continue her crusade.

Chapter 5: The Legacy of the Phoenix

Years passed, and Kara graduated from college with degrees in engineering and computer science. But even as she began her career, she continued to don the mask of the Phoenix and fight for justice.

She found that the legacy of the Phoenix lived on, as others took up the mantle and continued her work. Kara became a mentor to new generations of heroes, passing on her knowledge and experience.

As she looked back on her life, Kara felt grateful for the powers that had awakened within her. They had given her purpose and meaning, and allowed her to make a difference in the world. She knew that the legacy of the Phoenix would live on, inspiring others to do good and fight for justice.

[aliensdeclassified]

The Night I Was Abducted: A Terrifying Encounter with Aliens

The night was dark and quiet, as Sarah drove along the deserted country road. She had been visiting her family for the weekend, and was now driving back home. She was tired and ready to get back to her own bed. Suddenly, she saw a bright light ahead and her car started to shake violently. Panicked, she tried to brake, but her car was out of control.

As the shaking stopped, Sarah found herself lying on the ground, outside her car. She was disoriented and confused, but she knew that something was very wrong. Looking up, she saw a large, metallic object hovering in the sky. It was shaped like a disc and had bright, flashing lights all around it.

Sarah tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn't obey her. She felt a sense of dread as she realized that this was not a normal occurrence. She felt like she was in the presence of something that was not of this world.

Suddenly, a bright beam of light shot out from the object and hit Sarah, making her feel paralyzed. As she struggled to move, she saw several figures emerge from the craft. They were tall and thin, with elongated heads and large black eyes.

Sarah tried to scream, but she couldn't make a sound. The creatures approached her slowly, their eyes staring blankly ahead. She felt an overwhelming sense of terror, knowing that these beings were not from Earth.

The creatures surrounded her, and Sarah felt their cold, metallic touch as they probed her body with strange instruments. She tried to resist, but her body was numb, and she could only watch as they conducted their experiments.

Eventually, the creatures retreated back into their craft and the bright light faded away. Sarah was left alone, shaking and terrified, as she watched the craft disappear into the night sky.

Days later, Sarah woke up in her bed, with no memory of how she had gotten there. She felt like she had been asleep for days, but she couldn't remember anything that had happened since the night of the encounter. She tried to convince herself that it was just a nightmare, but the fear and terror she had felt that night were all too real.

Over the years, Sarah tried to forget about the incident, but she couldn't. She found herself thinking about it all the time, wondering what had happened to her and why. She started to research UFO sightings and alien encounters, hoping to find some answers.

She discovered that she was not alone in her experience. Many people had reported similar encounters with extraterrestrial beings, and some even claimed to have been abducted and experimented on.

Sarah never spoke of the incident to anyone, fearing that no one would believe her. But the memory of that terrifying alien encounter stayed with her for the rest of her life, haunting her dreams and reminding her that we may not be alone in the universe, and that the unknown can be the most terrifying thing of all.

As technology and scientific exploration continue to progress, the possibility of encountering extraterrestrial life becomes more and more likely. While many believe that aliens could bring us knowledge and technology that could benefit us, there is always the fear of the unknown and what could happen if we were to encounter beings from another world.

The possibility of encountering extraterrestrial life raises important questions about our place in the universe and our relationship with other forms of life. While the thought of encountering aliens can be both exciting and terrifying, it is a reminder that we are not alone in the vast expanse of space, and that our journey of discovery is far from over.

[kurt-wagner-official]

Post #65: NM issues 30-31

Following up on Secret Wars II 1, Illyana has teleported herself, Sam, Kitty, Rachel, and Alison into Limbo. She's going a little insane as all the demonic parts of her that she tries to push down come rushing up to her all at once. Limbo, a reflection of her mind, starts going crazy until Kitty tries to calm her down. To her shock, Illyana's armor and sword disappear and reappear on Kitty, snapping Illyana out it. She teleports them back to Earth, but they've gone a little ways into the future and don't know what happened with the Beyonder. They decide to prioritize Berto and Amara. This is the first time Kitty's worked alongside the New Mutants since the Hellions arc. We've been told that that incident ended the feud between Kitty and the others, but we haven't really seen her interacting with any of them except Illyana and Doug, and I wish we had gotten to actually see Kitty apologizing and making up with everyone on panel. If that was gonna happen, though, it would have happened after that adventure, so by the time we get to this story we have to assume everything's good. We do see a mutual respect between her and Sam; as a recent X-Men field leader, she takes charge of this mission, but she doesn't dismiss Sam's input the way she used to. She's already making the hard calls by allowing Alison to go in alone to try to infiltrate the Gladiators. Alison is scared, but also determined to prove that she's not addicted to the glory of stardom by taking down the operation. She's welcomed by her old friends and willingly takes the drug they offer that increases bloodlust. Meanwhile, Kitty gets hired in the Gladiators IT department, which apparently does zero background checks to see if their new employees might be mutant superheroes here to save a bunch of mutants. Outside, Rachel psychically searches for the Beyonder. Illyana hates him and Sam is terrified of him. He's used to danger, both as a New Mutant and as a coal miner, but he always felt like there were rules to the world to go along with the risk. But the Beyonder is powerful in a way he believed only God could be, and that shakes him in a different way than any other villain they've encountered. The Beyonder shows up, curious about their conversation, and Rachel tries to communicate with him telepathically, but is overwhelmed by the scope of his mind, and he leaves again. Meanwhile, Kitty discovers that the child hostages are a lie, and goes to find her captive friends. When she finds Berto he hugs her, which is nice to see since he's the New Mutant who had the most beef with her. She tells him they're going to use the chaos of that night's battle to stage a breakout, and for him to pass it on to Amara. Kitty goes to find Alison elsewhere in the compound, and finds her diary, where she discovers that Alison truly has rejected the Gladiators and doesn't want to lose her soul for stardom. She finds Alison next and congratulates her, but it's interrupted by the mysterious boss of the organization, who Kitty recognizes as she and Alison are telepathically subdued. Berto and Amara are waiting for the match to start so they can get the signal from Kitty to escape, but instead the match starts early with a giant lifelike robot that attacks them. Unknown to them, it's being controlled by the boss, with Kitty trapped inside.

Berto and Amara fight for their lives against the mech thing, while the mind controlled Alison performs the musical accompaniment/lightshow. I love the way her powers are drawn in this scene. Normally people draw Alison's light powers as big wide flashes, but for this scene Sienkiewicz adds thin beams sticking out from the bursts that evoke puppet strings controlling her. Kitty's able to resist her master's control and phase out of the robot, disabling it before it can cause her friends any serious harm. Alison can't resist the telepath, and jumps into the battle, but at that moment, Sam, Illyana, and Rachel arrive, and Illyana sends Alison to Limbo and back to break the hold on her. Sam crashing through the roof signalled the cops, who come en masse to the arena, scattering the attendees. Our heroes chase after the boss, who tries possessing Rachel till Kitty knocks her out. Sam slams into the boss, and is shocked to realize it's Karma. A little thing about Karma- up until a couple weeks ago (in the real world) her name was Xi'an Coy Mahn. But that name actually couldn't exist in the Vietnamese language for several grammatical and syllabic reasons. It took until 2023 for a Vietnamese writer to have the chance to retcon the proper spelling to Xuân Cao Mahn (her first name is pronounced Swun). So that's the name I'll be referring to her with from now on in my posts. Anyway, she's been presumed dead since like issue 8, but now she's returned extremely overweight and cackling evilly about her evil plans. San weakened her too much to possess the heroes, but she holds all her other slaves hostage with their own knives to force them to let her get on a plane and leave. Kitty believes that Xuân might be possessed herself, and says they should wait for the X-Men, who Rachel has finally made psychic contact with, but Sam says the New Mutants take care of their own. Kitty says she'll cover for them with Xavier as Illyana teleports them away to find their friend.

This issue was Bill Sienkiewicz's last one as penciller for the book, although he'll return a couple times as inker. His run was only 14 issues long, but in that time he left a mark on X-history that is still felt today. He pencilled some all-time great stories in Demon Bear and Legion, but like Byrne before him, his bigger contribution is the way he defines the characters visually. Their mannerisms, facial expressions, fighting styles, and powers bring the characters to life. In particular, his vision of Illyana's demonic magic sets the standard for future artists, his redesign of Rahne's werewolf form fits her much better, and under his pencil Warlock has a very unique style of movement and expression that perfectly fits both his weirdness and lovableness. As for my overall thoughts on this little miniarc, it's not my favorite, but I liked it. It was good to see Kitty being friends with Sam and Berto, and I think Claremont did a good job working with the Secret Wars II mandate without taking too much away from the main story and cast. I do think that either Xuân should have come back much earlier or Xavier shouldn't have basically told the audience she was secretly alive. The former would have been a good source of suspense, which petered out after two years with no Xuân, and the latter could have helped the readers to actually feel the New Mutants' loss and led to a good twist in this issue. The reveal here still works, but I think overall the long-term storyline could have been stronger. I wish Sienkiewicz had gotten to draw another full team story after Doug joined, but this was still a solid finale.

[latenightbreezeinheaven]

Just a tiny rant 🗣️

I have sun opposition pluto, moon square pluto, mars square pluto, 12th house stellium and all of those lilith in 1st house and people just seem to not like me. They are always trying to avoid me in public or sometimes even in private. Someone once told me that being with me made her feel overwhelmed and dumb and I was really furious at that time because I felt alienated and outcasted. I was also bullied at school and I'm not going to write these things in details but these is rarely a problem that I haven't encountered. For instance, I also almost had eating disorder a few months ago and it's coming back rn too and I know it but I cannot fix this. If I tell my mom about it, she's definitely going to abandon me too. And I also have anxiety and depression. I'm prone to self-sabotaging and I have anger issues, trust issues. I have only two friends in real life and they also never start conversation with me. I also have problems and issues in my own family. My mom has always always been mean and sabotaging towards me since I was a little kid. Always bringing me negative energy. Always trying to bring me down by lowering my skills and mocking at me. Always trying to manipulate me by acting like she's hurt to make me do something which I don't like to do. My father doesn't also understand me from my childhood and he is quite physically and emotionally distant. It's just soo hard. Men also mostly like me for my body and they're superficial about me while they deeply and purely love other girls at the same time. And most of men have sexualized me a lot since I was about 13. My male friends even tried to direct our conversation towards sexual things in order to make me send some nudes and talk some dirty shit with them. Even when I'm not showing any skin, those stupid jobless guys from the street catcall me. Maybe I'm just problematic but I don't think so too because I'm kind and sympathetic. I don't initiate problems and I normally never fight back unless they hurt me badly. I'm pretty sure about that. However, I mean wtf is wrong with them all or maybe am I wrong? I have problems with everyone, even with myself. I sometimes feel like this earth is not the earth for me. My earth maybe mars lmao who knows I feel so strange in this world. Or maybe in the deep forest with some wild animals. 😂 And because of those conflicts happening in my real daily life, I consider this tumblr community as a warm, cozy, little, comforting space where I can really be myself and say what I want and I really treasure this space. ❤️