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[ekdorofficial]

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[wwhatev3r]

Easy Company going to the Zoo | Headcanons

Note: I do believe Zoos are ultimately harmful to animals; this is only for entertainment purposes. I recommend to read everything because is kinda connected.  

– Dick Winters - This man is calmly watching every animal, listening silently to what the guides say like the perfect man that he is. Nix takes pictures of him like he is the wife that died at the beginning of the movie. He is genuinely embarrassed when the boys do something stupid and he has to apologize to strangers. He sees them getting along and Shifty helping random kids and he is on Proud Dad Mode. An elephant patted his head and he was so happy. 

“Alright everyone, if anyone falls off the railings it will make the animals sick, so please be careful. You are hard for the animals to digest.”

– Lewis Nixon - A monkey stole his sunglasses and Winters laughed at him instead of helping him. Can’t stand kids screaming at the animals. Starts oversharing how bad his marriage was with the animals.

"Nix, they're gonna get depressed." Winters told him. "Even more? We are all trapped in some way, aren't we?" He replied after a sigh with a gloomy voice.

– Carwood Lipton - Plans everything as always. When the zoo guides are telling information It’s him who tells everyone to be quiet. He asks everyone to take a group picture. He really likes the red pandas. 

"Come on guys, form a single file line."

“Do not pick the goats Perconte, can’t you read the sign?”

– Ronald Speirs - Gets offended because a parrot starts imitating him. Refuses to eat there because it is too expensive. He stole a mini toy turtle from the gift shop, and at the end of the day he gave it to Lip. He doesn't trust the raccoons or the lemurs because he thinks they are going to steal from him. 

“Sir, can you help me find the kay-muls?” Muck asked. “You mean ‘camels’?”  “Yes, that’s what I said.” “Fucking idiot.” 

– George Luz - George tries to teach the parrots how to swear. He makes fun of the penguins too. A baby koala climbed on his shoulder to hug his neck. Talks with the zookeepers and learns more than the other guys. He looks at Don and Skip messing around and says: “Look at the primates socializing.” My poor boy really tries to communicate with the monkeys tho.  "Hey, It's you George." Bill said, pointing at the monkey while laughing.  “Sure, look Bill, It's you too." George points at the trash can.

– Joe Liebgott - The first one to volunteer to pet a snake. Almost threw hands with a kid because he stole his sandwich. He pushed Web and he almost fell in the otters water tank. He scares Babe with fake stories about animals who attacked people. Says dark humor jokes to offend Shifty.

“Shit, that leopard would make a pretty good coat.”  “Lieb, please stop. It 's not even funny.” Shifty replied. 

– Bill Guarnere - He is so excited to see the lions. If other companies are there, he is always screaming at them like it's a school trip. Runs back and forward in the front of the glass, to make the cheetahs run with him. Feeds the animals that are forbidden to be fed by the visitors. 

“Bill, stop feeding them before anyone sees you.” Malarkey warns him.  “What? No! Look at them, they have skinnier legs than Lieb.” “Bill, that’s a flamingo.” Webster replied.

– Joe Toye - He is against zoos, so he starts screaming at a zookeeper and Lip has to apologize in his name. Wants to make himself look like he doesn't want to be there but at the first cute animal that he sees he lets escape an "Anw." A bunny pooped on him. He is kinda scared a peacock wants to mate with him because he shook his feathers to him. 

“Look, Toye found a girlfriend, how cute.” “Shut up George.” 

– Donald Malarkey - Donnie is so excited and happy to be around the animals. He takes pics with every single one of them. In the farm section he spends his money to buy food to feed the goats. He buys so many stuffed animals. He saw a ginger monkey and got so happy. Names everyone animal like is going to keep them.

“Look how long their necks are.” Perconte says about the giraffes.  “Don’t say that.” Malarkey replied angrily, “She might hear you.” “Yeah, don’t you hear him, Louisa.” George says playfully to the giraffe, “You have a lovely neck.”

– Warren “Skip'' Muck - Yes, he definitely dances to the monkeys. Brings everything from the gift shop. Imitates the meerkats when they stand up. Makes a stare contest with a lizard. Presses his face against the glass and Martin yells at him. He and Bill find orangutans kinda creepy and suspicious (??).

“Are we allowed to ride giraffes?” “NO.” Lip yelled. 

– Darrel “Shifty” Powers - He was the one who volunteered to feed the elephants. He stays watching an animal no one else seems to be interested in. He loves to be around the animals but feels genuinely bad for them. He helps scared kids pat the ponies. He wants to adopt a kitten from the shelter of the zoo but he thought he wouldn't be responsible enough to take him.

“You know sir, cats don’t like loud noises, what if I talk too loud near him?” “I don’t think that would be a problem, Shifty.” Winters said with a kind smile. 

 – Eugene Roe - When they were in the farm section, he spent the whole time gently rubbing the belly of a pregnant bunny. I feel like he loves pandas. Asks the zookeeper's how many times each animal is being fed during the day and wants to know about the treatment of the sick ones. Even in the zoo he has to carry his first aid kit. 

“Hey, look, it's a pelican.” Babe said.  "That's a toucan.” Eugene replied.

– Edward “Babe” Heffron - He fed a deer and then got scared when they started to surround them. He is kinda scared of birds. He gave his lunch to a peacock because he bit him. He genuinely loves lizards. 

“Heffron, you know It’s your fault that you got bit.” Eugene told him while taking care of his injury. “How is it my fault?” “You were trying to do a mating dance for the peacock.” “And I gave him my lunch, and for what? For him to like Toye instead. I hate birds.”

– David Webster - Web, Aka Shark boy, just wants to see aquatic animals. Is genuinely interested in learning about animals. He reads every board with the animal information and also acts like the teacher’s pet to the zoo guides. 

“No, sir, actually they live 15 to 45 years.” “Shut the fuck up Web.” Lieb told him. “Ok.” 

– Frank Perconte - He kinda judges giraffes for having long necks. He hates how the zoo smells. He wants to keep every lost belonging but Shifty convinces him to give it to the zoo staff. He leaned in to see the crocodiles better and almost fell but Martin grabbed him by his shirt right on time.

“If you fall in there, I won’t save you.” Martin said. “You won't, sergeant?” Perconte replied with a sad expression. 

– Denver “Bull” Randleman - He is compared by everyone to a bear. He makes Perconte hold his shirt to not lose him in the crowd. He will call out anyone who taps the glass. Makes the guys wear hats because of the sun. He notices Talbert taking pictures of the animals mating and says to Martin: “Look, that creep is taking pictures of the zebra putting the stick on the honey.” (No, but imagine him saying this with his accent, I-...) 

– John Martin - I feel like he has a special love for rhinos. A baby binturong fell asleep on his lap when they were in the Baby Room section. A hawk shitted on his shoulder and he got pissed. 

"Alright everyone, let's go! If anyone touches, teases or even screams at the animals will be thrown at the Lions. Oh, and Bill, don’t try it on purpose.”

"For fuck sake, Muck don't dance to the monkeys." 

– Floyd Talbert - The most distracted, instead of looking at the animals he is looking at the women. He sees two animals mating, quickly whoops Malarkey’s camera to take pictures. Is envious of how beautiful the alpacas hair are. He flirts with the zookeepers.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big snake. You know what else is b-...” “Sergeant Talbert, get your ass back here.” Sargent Martin yelled at him.

[benoitblanc]

Okay sleepover questions.

Tell me about 5 of your tumblr crushes and why they’re so amazing to you.

Also, what kind of books do you like to read? Romance? Mystery? And do you have a book you love recommending to people?

to be completely honest i don't really understand the concept of a tumblr crush BUT if this is an opportunity to brag about how amazing my friends are i will happily oblige! i will endeavor to limit myself to only 5 people, and for those of you reading this whom i did NOT mention my sincere apologies and please know that i love you anyway. i am going to list them below a cut and put my book recs first just so this post isn't fifty miles long lol.

let's talk books! i will read just about anything i can get my hands on, but my favorite genres are urban fantasy, mystery, and historical. i don't read a lot of contemporary books that are only romance with nothing else, but i love jane austen and shakespeare. i also ADORE genre-melding, eg the seven deaths of evelyn hardcastle by stuart turton, which is a sci-fi 1920s murder mystery.

my top 7 favorite books of all time- i originally was going to do five but realized i also would recommend 6 and 7 to literally everyone i know- which i would absolutely recommend to everyone, are:

the book thief by markus zusak (historical; coming-of-age of a german girl during wwii as her foster family hides a jewish man in their basement. this book should make you SOB)

the sweetness at the bottom of the pie by alan bradley (historical mystery; 11-year-old aspiring chemist solves murders in 1950s england)

murder on the orient express by agatha christie (historical mystery; a passenger is found dead on a snow-trapped train. basic premise but i am not exaggerating when i say that this book reinvented the murder mystery genre)

six of crows by leigh bardugo (high fantasy heist; six teenagers are recruited to break a chemist out of prison in order to stop- or maybe start- a magical war)

if we were villains by ml rio (mystery; a shakespeare student at a performing arts conservatory is found dead and his classmates try to decide if they want his killer to be caught)

code name verity by elizabeth wein (historical; a spy and a pilot during wwii are sent on a mission that only one returns from. holy SHIT this book is plot-twisty)

good omens by neil gaiman and terry pratchett (urban fantasy; an angel and a demon team up to stop the 11yo antichrist from starting armaggedon)

sleepover asks!!!

(read on for me gushing about my friends!)

@tellthemhowihope NINA MY SCIENCE SISTER MY RECENT OVERGRAD LIGHT OF MY LIFE!!! nina is one of the sweetest funniest and most brilliant people i know (she is a scientist!!!) and it always makes my day to exchange doctor who memes, cute animal pictures, and souffle recipes with her. throwback to the time she cut off a foot of her hair on impulse and one of our mutual mutuals thought she cut off her foot... the good old days...

@wespers aka tuser weepers... jamie is one of my oldest mutuals and i am so so grateful she's in my life! she has the market cornered on beautiful pale gifsets, is my go-to for book recs, has excellent opinions on just about everything, and actually gets around to consume all the content i bully her into consuming (see: knives out, hadestown, the book thief...). ily jamie you're not beating the theatre kid allegations any time soon. i am also planning to think of something else to bully you into reading/watching/listening to shortly. what about into the woods have you listened to into the woods before. or little shop of horrors. i think you'd vibe with both of them.

@gracelcdomas is another very old and dear friend and is my murdoch mysteries and knives out buddy for LIFE. milo is one of the most upbeat people i know, and i love chatting to them about just about anything. also am ETERNALLY grateful that they will always send me an ask if i rb an ask game. get yourself friends who will enable you to rant about yourself for fun online.

@jewish-mulder- hi anna! a relatively more recent mutual of mine but one who can always be counted on to have the most correct x-files opinions, and is also a very talented screenwriter! i hope my incoherent x-files liveblog as i watch the show for the first time brings them joy, because i always love reading their little replies to my comments.

and last but certainly not least @anakinskyiwalker, who might actually be my very first mutual? ashlyn has always been such a constant and kind presence in my fandom experience and i adore her to bits.

(other people i love and cherish who deserve shoutouts: @iloveuspiderman @eohwyyn @heroeddiemunson @laowen @faithinthefuturedeluxe @angela-bassetts @danielsousa @billhaders @elliewillaims @karmas @trashcora and @clayfaced SAM WHEN WILL YOU RETURN FROM THE WAR I MISS YOU)

[starwalker42]

febuwhump day 28: "you're safe now"

sequel to days 7 & 19 | tw: aftermath of torture, overdose, graphic injury | general audiences

It takes 24 hours to get a full list of possible suspects: anyone in the nearby area who matches Mulder’s rough description, who’s been in prison recently for violence against women or girls. The list is only 13 names long, but that’s still more than the local police can track down and interview in one day, and they’re running out of time.

Scully hasn’t had a vision since the one during the briefing, and she tries not to think about what that means.

It’s 8pm. The police force aren’t willing to send out officers until the morning, even though they have a list of addresses, even though Mulder might be dying, or dead – don’t think about that – and she’s rereading the names again, unable to do much else, when she realises she recognises one of them. It takes her ten minutes of scouring through the casefile before she finds it: one of the first witness interviews, for the first abducted man, before he was found dead, before the FBI got involved.

The man – Marshall Dunn, aged 35, released from prison 5 months ago after serving 2 years for aggravated assault - wasn’t a suspect, hadn’t even been called down to the station. But he’d worked in the same auto repair shop as the first victim. That’s a link.

It’s a hunch. A Mulder-sized one. But it sure beats waiting for another ten hours.

xXx

Less than an hour later, and Skinner’s pulled some strings to get her backup. Ten minutes later, they’re on the road, a ragtag convoy of her sedan and two FBI SUVs, and that’s when she gets another vision.

Mulder isn’t in it.

Instead she watches as the man washes his hands in the sink – his hands, stained red with blood – and pointedly looks up, into the mirror. She looks right into the eyes of Marshall Dunn, and feels her blood run cold as he speaks.

“Come find me. My work’s all done now, anyway.”

The vision fades away, and she pulls off the road, heart pounding so hard that for a moment she worries she’s going to pass out. It takes a minute to even her breathing, and when she raises her head she sees Skinner leaning out the back of one of the SUVs, looking over at her with concern painted across his face. She nods to him, once. Jaw clenched, she forces back tears.

Okay, you bastard. I’m on my way.

xXx

Marshall Dunn is upstairs, in the back bedroom, with an empty bottle of vodka and a pill container that once held prescription methadone. He’s still breathing, shallowly – by the time Scully gets to him, he’s already been put in the recovery position and an ambulance is on its way.

Even though she’s the doctor, and probably has some legal obligation to stay and help, she leaves the room without a word. The house isn’t very big, and it doesn’t take her long to sweep through the few rooms. There’s a bathroom – the bathroom, she recognises the mirror, and the sink is still stained with blood – a kitchen, a front room, but there’s nothing, no sign of Mulder’s presence. She checks the garage last, but even that reveals nothing – there’s no blood, no sign of a struggle, no weapon. It’s not the same room she saw in the visions.

The thought she’s not dared to think creeps into her mind: What if Mulder was never in the house at all?

Then she hears it; a human grunt of pain.

Her heart stops for a moment, relief and shock stopping all higher brain function, before she runs over the corner of the room. There, half-hidden under a tarp, is a trapdoor. It’s locked with a brand new heavy-duty padlock, the implications of which aren’t lost on her.

“Mulder?”

His voice – pained, shaky, but definitely Mulder – replies. “Scully.”

“I’m going to get you out of there.”

No time to find a key. She’ll have to shoot the lock off. It’ll destroy evidence – really, she should wait until someone can photograph it – but right now she doesn’t want to waste any more time. She fumbles with her gun, heart pounding in an echo of the two-beat in her head: Mul-der, Mul-der, Mul-der.

“Mulder, keep talking to me.”

There’s a sound from the other side of the door, one she can’t make out.

“Mulder?”

“Cold,” he whispers.

“I’m coming down there.” She forces her hands steady and takes aim at the lock. “Cover your head.”

The sound of the gun echoes through the garage, and she distantly hears shouts of surprise from upstairs. She should have warned them. Never mind. The trapdoor, now without the padlock, is easy enough to lift. She shines her flashlight into the hole and sees nothing but the floor.

“Mulder?”

No reply. She holsters her gun and drops down.

There’s a crunch as she hits the ground at an angle, her foot twisting awkwardly under her weight, but she grits her teeth through the pain. Raising her flashlight again, she realises that this is it, the place in the visions – the same cold dirt floor, the same breezeblock walls. She turns, orientating herself, and there’s Mulder, hunched in one of the corners, trembling. God.

She limps over to him and crouches by his side, assessing the situation. His shirt is in tatters, torn and cut away from his body, and his chest is covered in bruises and wounds. There are three long, deep cuts across his chest, one of which she recognises as the one she watched him receive. Scully knows they’re infected, too; one in particular is inflamed and still weeping fluid.

Mulder’s hands are pressed into the left side of his stomach, shaking worse than the rest of him; she wraps her fingers around one wrist, and eases it away from his body. Underneath is a mess of blood and torn fabric – he’s tried to stop the bleeding, probably too far gone to realise it wouldn’t help – but she can tell it’s bad. A penetrating abdominal wound, probably with a dirty blade.

Lying her coat on the ground, she eases him down until he’s on his back. He whimpers, eyes opening, and she leans over into his line of sight.  

“Hey, it’s me. You’re going to be okay.”

There are tears in his eyes. She’s not sure if they’re from pain or fear or both; either way, she swipes them away with her thumb, trying to soothe.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Under her hands, she feels his pulse start to calm as his body stops shaking. There’s movement above; she hears Skinner’s voice, shouting for someone to bring the paramedics, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Mulder’s. There’s an emotion in his gaze that she can’t quite label, but it brings a lump to her throat that she swallows down.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs again, as his eyes start to close. “You’re safe now.”  

@today-in-fic

[coffeefrenchandhistory]

The love potions headcanon and why Ginny used them

So. We all know what love potions are, in the HP universe. They are potions which can cause obsession, or infatuation, in the drinker with the person who gave it to them. And of all the love potions out there, none are more powerful than Amortentia.

This is important for us to know, since Amortentia is the strongest of the love potions, it implies there are weaker or less powerful forms of the potion as well. What would very likely be aphrodisiacs.

Before Half-Blood Prince, here's what we know about love potions (bolded for emphasis):

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” beamed Lockhart. “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn’t stop here! I’m sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!" — Chamber of Secrets

They [Ron and Harry] headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she’d made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly. — Prisoner of Azkaban

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that’s how she’s doing it."  Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter’s well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate. — Goblet of Fire

And then we get to Half-Blood Prince. Where potions, but specifically love potions, take center-stage. In the course of the book, we see:

Merope Gaunt use a love potion on Tom Riddle Sr to steal him away from Cecelia, his fiancée;

Romilda Vane attempt to dose Harry with love potions in chocolate (and that love potions grow in strength the longer they sit, as what happens when Ron eats the chocolate instead of Harry)

The Weasley twins sell love potions in their shop in Diagon Alley.

And most importantly, Horace Slughorn introduces not just love potions to the class, but as well introduces the class — and us by extension — to Amortentia. The strongest love potion there is in the Wizarding world.

I'm not alone in saying that the Harry/Ginny relationship came out of nowhere. There was no real build-up to it from a Doylist perspective. Harry interacts with Ginny in Chamber of Secrets, barely at all in Prisoner of Azkaban and Goblet of Fire, and only really starts to have any kind of interaction in Order of the Phoenix. She's in one book, all but disappears for two more, and then only starts having any kind of interaction with Harry in the fifth book.

It's a very sudden thing, Harry falling for Ginny.

Then there's the "monster in his chest" nonsense.

Yeah. Unfortunately we have to talk about it. I don't like it, but we do.

Compare and contrast Harry's crush on Cho, which we see in Prisoner of Azkaban, versus what we see for Harry regarding Ginny in Half Blood Prince.

Prisoner of Azkaban (emphasis bolded):

They walked out on​to the pitch to tu​mul​tuous ap​plause. The Raven​claw team, dressed in blue, were al​ready stand​ing in the mid​dle of the pitch. Their Seek​er, Cho Chang, was the on​ly girl in their team. She was short​er than Har​ry by about a head, and Harry couldn’t help notic​ing, ner​vous as he was, that she was extreme​ly pret​ty. She smiled at Har​ry as the teams faced each other be​hind their cap​tains, and he felt a slight jolt in the re​gion of his stom​ach that he didn’t think had any​thing to do with nerves.

Half-Blood Prince (emphasis bolded):

Harry hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; he felt dis- oriented, dizzy; being struck by a lightning bolt must be something like this. It’s just because she’s Ron’s sister, he told himself. You just didn’t like seeing her kissing Dean because she’s Ron’s sister.... But unbidden into his mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with himself kissing Ginny instead... The monster in his chest purred... but then he saw Ron ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing his wand on Harry, shouting things like “betrayal of trust”... “supposed to be my friend”... “D’you think Hermione did snog Krum?” Ron asked abruptly, as they approached the Fat Lady. Harry gave a guilty start and wrenched his imagination away from a corridor in which no Ron intruded, in which he and Ginny were quite alone —

It's night and day. Cho is butterflies in his stomach, nervousness, apprehension even. Noticing that she was "extremely pretty". With Ginny? It's quite different. And sure, you could make the excuse of it just being age, but throughout HBP we see repeated and repeated reference to the "monster in his chest", of wanting to take Ginny in a very intimate manner. It's a very specific reference. Later on that page, how Harry wants to rip Dean limb from limb.

Now, I've been a teenage boy. And in all of the crushes I've had, I've never wanted to rip the boyfriend of the girl I might be interested in "limb from limb". I might be jealous, sure, or even a bit put out that he's getting to experience what I would want to — but what Harry is going through reads far more like obsession. Harry is infatuated with being with Ginny. Having her with him. Imagining all the intimate moments between them, with no one interrupting. And it comes all out of a sudden. Even Harry is surprised by the feeling.

But Josh, you might be saying! Love potions cause the person to act like an idiot! We see this with Ron!

Incorrect, but points for attention! The experience you're referring to is when Ron Weasley ate the chocolates that Romilda gave to Harry which were laced in love potion. Which had been sitting in Harry's trunk for months, stewing and growing in strength (but also, gross, Harry). Which implies, or outright states, that love potions have a more subtle approach to how they interact with the consumer. Like a boiling the frog approach.

But Josh, you might be saying again! Why would Ginny use a love potion? She was pretty, she was popular, all the boys wanted her!

Yes, she is. Even Blaise Zabini, a noted blood purist in Slytherin, notes that Ginny is attractive.

"I never really gave up on you," she [Ginny] said. "Not really. I always hoped... Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more - myself."​ "Smart girl, that Hermione," said Harry, trying to smile. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages... months... years maybe..."​ ​"But you've been too busy saving the Wizarding world," said Ginny half laughing. "Well... I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much."​ — Half-Blood Prince, Ch. 30 (pp 647, US edition)

It's a very weird thing to say. "You wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort". Either Ginny meant that she knows Harry has something hanging over his head that he has to deal with or it'll ruin his life, or she knows the Boy-Who-Lived is a Dark Lord Vanquisher™ from the stories she read about as a child.

But it's the first line she says that solidifies it for me.

"I never really gave up on you".

Even after dating Michael Corner and Dean Thomas, even after being involved with these boys for months, she never gave up on Harry. She effectively strung Michael and Dean along in the hopes Harry would realize his feelings for her. Hermione most likely wanted Ginny to date someone, and realize that her crush on Harry was a silly childhood crush. She strung those two boys along in the hopes that Harry felt something for her too. And when he didn't appear to, when he didn't seem to reciprocate, well... her brothers sell love potions in Diagon Alley.

And remember that Ginny Weasley was browsing the love potions section of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in HBP and asked Fred if they worked.

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermi- one and Ginny both hung back, looking wary. “There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Do they work?” she asked. “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time de- pending on the weight of the boy in question —” “— and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not selling them to our sister,” he added, becoming suddenly stern, “not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve —”

Ginny had basically set her sights on the Boy-Who-Lived since before she even met him. The moment she found out that Harry was going to Hogwarts, and was on the train, she wanted to see him like he was a thing at a zoo. And yes, sure, we can excuse that as her being 10 years old. But it's still not a great start for the relationship.

Harry is great when it comes to dealing with something in front of him. A villainous professor, a basilisk, dementors, dragons, Death Eaters in the Ministry. But someone surreptitiously dripping something into his pumpkin juice? Harry's not Mad-Eye Moody, he's not paranoia made flesh. He wouldn't think someone would be so bold as to try that.

And Ginny Weasley was plenty bold.

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

I’m one of the bastards who edited the text file for ror2 to give me 9,999,999 lunar coins and unlock all alternate abilities because after spending 6 hours trying to unlock just one of them for MUL-T and getting unlucky I realized I didn’t care. Anyway having unlimited lunar coins means you can get a full Spinel Tonic build from just one blue portal shop. I don’t ever do it but I think it’s funny that you can

[seasonsofthevalley]

🍃 PREORDERS OPEN AUGUST 5TH!🍃

Harvest season is coming up quick, and so are preorders! Celebrate all of the year's memories with this beautiful cover designed by Mul!

Thank you for your support! 🌼 @zine-scene @zinesunlimited @zinefeed @zineforall @zinefans @zineapps @fandomzines @all-zine-apps @zine-shop-channel

[svn12]

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[sotangledupinit]

free fallin’

annnnd here’s my second fic for @cssns! it’s a rework of a fic i did for cs halloweek 2021 so i hope you like my changes and are ready for another multi-chapter fic! :D

---

SUMMARY: On a dark and stormy Halloween night 27 years ago, five people stepped onto an elevator. They never stepped off. Now 28, Emma Swan and her son Henry work together to discover what caused her parents and the other inhabitants to suddenly disappear. //rewrite of previous work, expanded to a multi-chapter.

RATING: T for teen, though there’s some graphic descriptions of horror elements in the first chapter.

WORD COUNT: 7084 words

TAGS: Tower of Terror AU, Captain Swan, CSSNS 22

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! some of this may seem familiar to you if you read my original story for CS Halloweek 2021, but i've changed some things, added stuff, and reworked it better to be a multi-chapter fic. so yay! based on the theme park attraction Tower of Terror at Walt Disney World as well as the 1997 film starring Kirsten Dunst of the same name (and inspired by the same attraction).

***

“Are you absolutely certain you’re okay with this?” David asks one more time. He stands besides Mary Margaret, each of them slowly shrugging their coats on as their eyes stare at their daughter as if memorizing her every feature.

“Yes, we can always bring Emma with us so you can enjoy the party too!” Mary Margaret agrees, hands reaching out towards her baby girl.

Granny Lucas shakes her head, adjusting the baby on her hip. A single woman since her early twenties, Granny’s exteriors are rough and stern. She’s had to put up with more malarky than is right but it molded her to be fierce and stand her ground. Once she glares in their direction, David and Mary Margaret know they’ve lost their fight. “Absolutely not,” she says. “When was the last time the two of you had a date night? Emma’s just turned one – you two need some time alone. As a couple.”

David sighs, buttoning up his coat. “I have my pager on me. Beep me and I’ll call right away.” He takes Mary Margaret’s red scarf from their coat rack and wraps it around his wife’s neck.

“And I’ll have my cell phone in my purse. I also left the numbers for the hotel and the party on the refrigerator.” She rushes over to Granny and presses a featherlight kiss to her daughter’s forehead, smiling softly. “I love you, Emma.”

She feels David approach behind her and he places one hand on her back and the other cradle’s Emma’s head. “We really don’t mind bringing –”

“Go.” Granny’s exasperation pours through her voice. Her feet bring her to the front door of the apartment the couple lives in. Opening it brings in the chilly October air that hung in the hallway of the building. “I have Emma handled. I did raise three children and a granddaughter all by myself. Emma’s a breeze.” The couple looks at each other, still hesitant as they stand in their threshold. “Regina’s going to be mad if you’re late to her party.”

They kiss their daughter goodbye once more, giving themselves the extra second to cherish the moment, and then thank Granny before leaving.

*

Regina sighs as she stands at the reception desk of the lobby. The man behind the counter – Liam, his nametag says – is on the phone with the hotel’s house band. The one she booked months in advance for the Halloween party didn’t find it worth their effort to show up. Taking a sip of her champagne, her red lipstick leaves a mark on her glass and she figures she can get a refill once she gets back upstairs, barring no further problems.

Full moons brought out the crazies, and, she surmised, bad luck.

A light drizzle painted the street just beyond the hotel’s front doors, lights from the Hollywood Hills in the distance looking brighter. 

When she became mayor of Storybrooke, it was a rundown ghost town just outside of Los Angeles. Half the shops on main street were closed down and the neighborhoods housed more foreclosures than people. She worked hard to make it the perfect picture of suburbia it is today, with a multitude of locally owned stores and restaurants, excellent schools, and safe, well-run neighborhoods.

Election year is next year and she’s already decided not to run. Nearly thirty years as mayor, yet nothing notable in her personal life.

Well, there always is Mary Margaret and her child. The thought makes her snort into her glass and she searches for a napkin to wipe her chin with. How sad is that thought?

Humidity warms the cool October night making the skin on her arms sticky. She pats at herself and waits for the phone call to end.

“Mayor Mills,” the accented man says. Liam’s dark curls are gelled to styled perfection and as cleanly done as his pressed uniform. She knows from her dealings with Brennan Jones – the years of board meetings and permit approvals and plans being run by her desk for the Hollywood Tower Hotel – that he’s grooming his eldest to take over. Brennan has never been the noblest man to sit with, always looking with one eye to seem sincere but glancing away with his other to check no one can see his crossed fingers behind his back. “The house band is already setting up in the Tip Top Club. If you have any other concerns, please let me know.”

He holds his hand out to shake but Regina turns away instead.

She leaves her empty glass at the counter and makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Hair tickles her cheeks and she can already tell the humidity is ruining her carefully crafted look. It’s going to be a dreadfully long night.

*

Liam waits until Mayor Mills exits the lobby before heading back to the staff lounge. He leaves the front desk in the trusted hands of his assistant manager Starkey and goes in search of peace and quiet for five minutes.

Things have been weird at the hotel since just before the party goers arrived. The storm outside is beginning to pick up and he groans as yet another hallway light flickers. The toilets in the upper floors began to flush by themselves and the card readers for the rooms on the front side of the building stopped working, all by six o’clock. Maintenance isn’t the issue, he reasons. He oversees the building’s maintenance and does what he can with what little leash his father gives him. Where all the issues came from is a mystery to him.

Something isn’t right, something… not natural.

His hand grips the knob of the staff lounge only to find it locked. Groaning, he knocks heavily on the door. “Killian!” he practically hollers. “I need you to open up!”

The dark wood door swings open and Killian stands in its threshold, shirt unbuttoned and tie hanging loose around his neck. It’s unfair that his little brother is a hair taller than him. He recalls when Killian used to ask him to reach up for something on the top shelf or looked to him for protection. For their father being around nearly their entire lives, his presence was consistently absent.

“The door wasn’t locked, brother,” Killian says. Liam ignores the lie on his brother’s lips as the younger Jones steps back to allow him in.

“There’s an issue with the band Mayor Mills hired. The house band is filling in but…”

Killian sighs as he realizes where Liam’s train of thought is going. “But Whale is nowhere to be seen and you need me to fill in?”

“You’re wonderful, little brother. Brilliant, truly.”

“Bloody hell, Liam. I’m 30 and I’m taller than you. I’m younger, but most definitely not little.”

“Now, now. Let’s not turn this into a measuring contest,” Liam chastises, though his amusement cracks his stern exterior. “I do appreciate you giving up your night off.”

“Well,” Killian says with a sigh, rebuttoning his shirt, fixing his tie, and heaving up his guitar case from the corner of the room. “Enjoy this while you can because soon I’ll be on the ocean where you can’t pester me to fill in. By the way, I expect overtime for tonight.”

*

“Regina!” Mary Margaret calls out. They’ve dropped their scarves and coats at the desk, David’s black suit looking straight out of a catalog and perfect for his Bruce Wayne outfit, her dark blue gown swirling around her ankles creating an elegant Snow White look. She prances over to her stepmother like a fairytale princess in the Disney cartoons and Regina only barely manages to hold in her disgust at the display.

“Well it’s about time you showed up,” she says to the couple. Her eyes dart to David and she teases, “Even your brother arrived on time. Clearly he’s the better twin.”

“You invited my brother?” David groans as they walk together to the elevator.

“You can thank your lovely wife,” Regina says. She rolls her eyes when she sees Liam and another hotel worker waiting at the elevators too.

Mary Margaret fidgets next to her husband, apologetic. Ask forgiveness instead of permission. Regina can’t say she disagrees with that line of thinking. “No one should be alone on a holiday. Especially family.”

“It’s Halloween,” Regina deadpans. The ding of the arriving elevator sounds, putting a stop to the conversation. Liam holds his employee back and lets them board first. The employee holds a large guitar case and, glancing at the eyeliner rimming his eyes and the rings on his fingers, she groans. He better not be part of the band.

“Really,” David whispers to his wife as he enters after Regina and Mary Margaret. “You invited James?!”

“He’s your family,” she hisses back, pasting a pleasant smile on her face as a way of greeting the employees. Moments before the elevator doors close, she spots James coming from the back of the lobby and heading towards the stairs, waving in his direction while David grunts. His brother merely smirks and raises his glass, the metal doors starting to slide close. It’s the most perfect look for anyone dressed as Two-Face.

It really is a toss-up, which brother grates on Regina’s nerves more. Only slightly less holier-than-thou than her stepdaughter, David has the whole shtick down. Animal rescue, helps old ladies cross the street, probably picks up garbage from the gutter.

Ugh, he’s so good it makes her sick.

His twin, on the other hand, couldn’t be more opposite. Poor Ruth Nolan would probably be run into an early grave if she was only raising James. The man is a hellion, is known for collecting paramours, and has an angry streak to make anyone flinch.

Despite her earlier jest, she’d prefer to deal with David any day of the week over his brother. James can take his smirk and glass of liquor and go to hell.

Regina only just barely held back a snarl, making sure it’s the last thing James sees before the doors finally slide shut.

“Mayor Mills,” Liam nods, pressing the button for the Tip Top Club. The elevator begins its ascent with a light jerk. He gives her a nervous glance she pointedly ignores. Clearly Brennan Jones put no investment into his hotel’s transportation if the elevators were still as slow and jerky as when the building originally opened, nearly 90 years before his purchase. “This is my younger brother, Killian. He’s incredibly talented and he’ll be the guitarist of our house band tonight.”

Lovely.

Soft sounds of the music playing from a boombox at the party waft through the elevator shaft as their car quickly approaches its final stop. It's some pop hit that she finds more horrible than Mary Margaret’s hope speeches before election night. Nothing like what her father played growing up in Puerto Rico before moving to Storybrooke.

She opens her mouth to question his decision in bringing aboard his brother, a downright unkempt scoundrel by the looks of it and in no form for the classy Halloween party she’s hosting, but right as the elevator is about to reach the Tip Top Club, their car jerks to a stop.

“What’s happening?” Mary Margaret asks. David rests a comforting hand on her back and Liam looks to his brother before turning to face the elevator panel next to the door.

Finger just inches away, a purple electric shock shoots out of the panel and gets Liam. Killian is quick to jerk him back and the second he does, the lights go out.

Darkness envelops them, their breaths caught in their throat as no one says a word. The emergency lights lining the ceiling are useless as they refuse to turn on. It’s only when there’s a flicker, just the smallest bit with a tint of purple to its glow, that the elevator lurches then drops into a free fall.

Screams erupt in the elevator car. Regina sees the couple next to her in each other’s arms and the brothers on the other side clinging to the rails of the car. Her stomach is in her throat and her hair rises as her body falls. The last thing she sees before their elevator crashes is a flash of purple light.

*

27 years later…

Emma stares at her son, her eyebrow raised and lips pressed into a thin line, waiting for his answer.

Henry only grins back at her, a small gap between his front teeth.

“Your teacher… who I grew up with… assigned you to write a story about the Hollywood Tower Hotel?”

He fidgets in his seat and her eyes narrow. In turn, he becomes stock still with his gaze wide-eyed. He even refuses to breathe. Got him.

“Okay, so Miss French didn’t actually assign me the Hollywood Tower Hotel. I chose it.”

Emma stares at him in disbelief. “…Why?”

Their history with the infamous hotel is well known around the Los Angeles area but most especially in Storybrooke, where nearly all of its inhabitants knew her parents. It’s part of why she ran away from her Uncle James when she was sixteen. And part of why she hesitated greatly when contemplating moving back almost a year ago.

Grandma Ruth had been too distraught by losing her son that she wasn’t fit to take in Emma when she was a baby. Despite Granny’s attempts to take care of her, she wasn’t blood so Uncle James took her in. Though, he was far from a parent. No rules, little guidance, and an absence of fatherly love meant Emma became self-sufficient before she was ten. It hurts now, to look at her son at the same age and know that she was practically living on her own. Uncle James was more a body that took up space in the living room and who signed school papers until she was able to forge his signature convincingly.

School was another thing entirely.

If there is one thing to be guaranteed, it was that when kids saw an easy target, they pounced, eliciting a thrill from goading their full childhoods and families over her head. She’d been called a freak and a loser but the taunts that hurt the most were the ones calling her unlovable and an orphan.

Those ones were true.

At first she tried to combat the bullies by telling her teachers. That gave the incidents more fanfare and opened her up to even more bullying outside school grounds. So in fourth grade, she taught herself how to throw a punch.

The only bullies who bothered her after that were the ones brave enough to say something to her face. Somehow, the whispers that started up behind her back afterwards hurt more.

“We had to pick a moment in history and create a story from it so why not one about our family?” He shrugs his shoulders, leaving Emma dumbfounded. She forgets her son hasn’t been affected the same way she has, that the fated night doesn’t haunt his every quiet moment like it does hers.

The happenings at the Hollywood Tower Hotel on Halloween night 27 years ago have become the stuff of legends. More than one amateur sleuth has traveled far to see the hotel up close and solve the mystery of how the two elevator shafts protruding from the front of the building suddenly disappeared that night, taking five people along with them. 

Ghosts, curses, aliens – you name it, every few months someone shows up claiming to know the truth of what happened but none have been proven real. Moving out of Storybrooke didn’t allow her an escape from the shadow that encased her life. She’s been dodging requests from reporters to talk about the event for her entire life. They hunted her down in Storybrooke before she left, when she was still just a kid, and then followed her to Tallehasse and Phoenix and Boston and everywhere in between. Every once and a while, a brother of one of the occupants will pop up and ask for anyone who knows the truth to come forward with information, but it all leads to dead ends. 

Honestly, the whole thing feels like an episode straight out of the Twilight Zone.

“Henry,” she begins, mind searching for the right words to say. “I don’t know if this is a good idea…”

Her son gets up from his chair and comes to stand beside hers, face set in determination. “Maybe we can solve this mystery together.”

*

Let it be known that Emma will do anything for her kid. Even if it means standing outside of the hotel her parents disappeared from so Henry can get a vibe of the place for his writing assignment.

“I know you and Grace have snuck out of her house and come here before,” she says as she leans against the cement fencing that lines the property. A wide wrought iron gate sits at the entrance, kept closed with a rusted chain and lock. The plants around the property are overgrown and she sees weeds popping out from cracks in the cement. She thinks the original owner died some years ago but can’t be certain. If it’s not news about her parents, she looks the other way.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he evades. Standing on the tips of his toes, he tries to see beyond a particularly wild bush at the edge of the driveway just beyond the gate. His brow furrows when he doesn’t find what he expects.

A breeze blows through the trees and down the driveway, leaving Emma with a chill. Her son seems unaffected and a part of her wonders if it’s her mind getting to her.

People who have snuck onto the property or inspected it to solve the mystery swear the hotel is haunted. They share stories of unexplainable events taking place on the deserted property and supernatural occurrences, both of which make Emma snort. Things like ghosts and magic and vampires – ugh, that theory in particular, one where the inhabitants of the elevator became vampires and turned the hotel into their private bat cave, grinds her gears – are not real.

“Do you have everything you need?” she asks, shifting from foot to foot, eyes refusing to look at the hotel any longer.

Henry bites his lip as he looks up at her. “Can you tell me again what happened that night?”

She sighs. It’s not a story she likes repeating, especially since most of it is secondhand information. “Mayor Mills was throwing a Halloween Ball in the Tip Top Club. My parents, Mayor Mills, and two other people boarded an elevator to go to the club. There was a storm, the entire city lost electricity, and when the lights came back on a minute later, the elevator shafts disappeared, leaving no trace of anyone who was inside.”

“You know,” a young voice says behind her. She turns quickly, surprised to see a guy, not much older than 18, behind her with keys in his hands. He has sharp blue eyes and his brown hair is parted down the middle, the ends brushing his ears. A thin frame, his Hollywood Tower Hotel blazer hangs large on him. He gives her a nervous smile, “A lot of people claimed my papa cut corners getting the hotel fixed, that things weren’t working correctly and there were wiring issues. Which, I guess could be true, but that doesn’t explain the elevators disappearing and no debris.”

“You’re the owner’s son,” Emma guesses. She crosses her arms, eyeing him warily.

“I am.” He directs his attention to Henry who is watching the man in awe. “See the scorch marks on the outside of the building there?” His finger points to the front façade, burn marks in two identical vertical lines permanently staining the building. “That’s the only evidence left of that night.”

“Wow,” Henry says. Running back to the gate, his face pushes between the spaces and he fixes his gaze on the marks.

Emma eyes the newcomer, stepping into his eyeline so he can’t see her son. “Unless you’ve got an issue with us standing on the street, we’re good here. I don’t need you to put ideas in my kid’s head.”

The young man looks confused, mouth opening and closing as he tries to figure out what to say. “But you – you emailed me?”

Shaking her head, she immediately responds, “No I didn’t.”

Henry jumps away from the gate with a grin. He stands beside Emma and looks up at the man. “That’s because I did! Liam Jones, right? This is my mom. She’s Emma Nolan.”

Liam nods, his cheeks red, and says, “I actually go by LJ, not Liam.” Emma raises her eyebrow at this. He gestures to the building and shrugs, sighing, “I was born about seven years after that night, named after one of my brothers who disappeared then. But it’s weird, right? I kind of felt like my papa was trying to replace him with me.”

She swallows, nodding her head. “I’m sorry.”

LJ waves off her apologies and approaches the gate, flicking through the keys. “So you wanted a tour?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

Emma and Henry turn to face each other. She glares as much as she can at her son but he has his eyes wide, his hands clasped together, and – crap – he just stuck out the bottom lip.

The chains rattle as LJ removes them from the gate, Henry hot on his heels with every move.

“So you still own the hotel?” he asks him, pointing at the embroidered jacket he wears.

LJ nods. Creaking from lack of use, the gates open to the winding drive up the hill to the front doors of the Hollywood Tower Hotel. Sunlight beams through the breaks in the overgrowth and for a moment, Emma understands all the hype about the place in its heyday. There’s a peace that settles over her shoulders, like she’s in a long-lost private garden, and she takes a deep breath in.

Reality crashes down as LJ starts talking again, leading Henry up the drive with Emma following behind.

“Papa closed it for the investigation to see what happened to my brothers. It took years. Police investigated him and the property for faulty construction issues. Some people thought he demolished the two elevator shafts in order to expand, but there was no debris so that was ruled out. He was so broken up by everything – the disappearance, the investigation – that he vowed the hotel should not be opened again until the mystery of what happened that night is solved or my brothers are found.”

Emma trips on one particular crack in the driveway and the gravel breaks under her foot. “How can you afford to pay taxes and… maintenance?” A quick look around makes her wonder if any maintenance has actually been done, but the front of the hotel appears before her eyes and she gasps softly.

It’s one thing to see the glitz and the glam of a luxury hotel in photos but it’s another to see it in real life. A covered walkway with arches leads up to the front doors, mosaic tile covering the floors of the outside. The chairs on the patio on either side of the doors offer an unobstructed view of the Hollywood Hills with the Hollywood sign looking picturesque. She bets the backside of the hotel offers remarkable views of the Santa Monica Bay.

“Papa made a trust to pay for the upkeep. Plus I’m in school for mechanics and learning some building maintenance as I study. Things are a little dusty, but the lights still work. I can give you a tour,” LJ offers and Emma shakes her head.

“Oh no,” she starts. Her hands go out to grasp Henry by the shoulders before he can move inside and she shakes her head. “We are going to stay right out here.”

Henry eyes her suspiciously. “Why can’t we go in? Are you scared of ghosts?”

Emma represses the shudder that goes through her body at glancing up and seeing the empty lobby in front of her. The thought of being in the same place as her parents last were before they disappeared leaves an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

“I’m not scared,” she says to Henry. “Let’s just walk around the outside, okay? I bet there’s spiders in there.” She only feels a little bit bad when Henry shakes his whole body and sticks by her side, but sometimes she has to do what’s needed.

LJ leads them around the hotel, pointing out little details in the railings or on the tiles. She tunes most of it out, knowing her son is sucking it all up like the curious sponge he is. Instead, her breath is taken by the view of the water from the back porch, drawing her from the group.

The water glistens, far enough away that she can’t hear the waves but the sight still leaves her stunned.

“Awesome, isn’t it?” LJ says with a grin a few moments later. She nods, stepping closer to the railing and lets the sight roll over her shoulders in calming waves. What it must have been like, to be a guest here when everything was grand and to have this room from the hotel room. Incredible. 

When she turns around though, LJ is just a few feet behind her but Henry is nowhere to be found.

“Henry?” she calls out. LJ follows suit, both of them looking for her son but he doesn’t appear at her voice. Her heart starts pounding and she wonders if the same thing that caused her parents to disappear so long ago just did the same to her son.

Curtains billowing in the wind catch her eye and Emma frantically makes her way over. The door to the hotel is slightly ajar, the cool breeze sweeping off the porch and into the back seating area leading to a number of hallways. She cautiously steps through, looking behind her to check with LJ, before fully entering.

Dust and cobwebs cover the furniture. Books are strewn on coffee tables, bags and suitcases are still piled on the luggage carts, and flowers long dead remain in the vases. “I thought you did routine maintenance?” she questions with a raised eyebrow, unamused.

LJ’s bashful look is accompanied by a scratch at his jawline. “It’s more wiring and keeping up with the electrical and pipes than cleaning…”

She hums, rolling her eyes and continues calling her son’s name. The front lobby is in much of the same state as the back and she looks for indents in the dust or a sign that something’s been moved. A glass on the reception desk glints from the sunlight beaming through the tall windows above the front doors and she can still make out the dark red lipstick staining the rim.

Glancing behind the check-in desk proves to be a waste with still no sign of Henry and her heart rate ticks up again. A chill is settling in her bones the longer she’s in the lobby and she studiously avoids the elevator shafts in the middle of the floor.

“Mom?” Henry calls out, voice scared and wobbly.

“Henry?!” Emma replies, pushing herself away from the counter and rushing around the corner. She hears music, like a boombox playing in another room, but when she runs through the tall white doors in the hall, she enters an empty ballroom and sees no boombox, no radio, not even a band. She calls her son’s name again but hears no response.

She feels the sensation of a breath along the back of her neck before she hears the voice in her ear.

“Welcome to the Hollywood Tower Hotel,” a deep voice says from behind her. Emma jumps in sudden fright and lets out a quick scream before her fight instincts kick in. In an instant, she reaches for one of the centerpieces on a nearby table, a heavy glass vase filled with flowers that have been long dead. She readies her arm as she turns around but there’s no one behind her when she looks. No door is swinging and no footsteps echo in the space.

The tension that coiled in her back keeps her body rimrod straight and straining. She eyes the empty ballroom and struggles to keep the quick succession of her breaths quiet. Though she desperately wants to call for her son, she worries any sudden noise could send danger in his direction. A chill runs down her arms to her fingertips and she tightens her grip on the vase.

A table cloth just a few paces over flutters in an imaginary wind and Emma feels the presence first. Pivoting, she immediately spots a handsome man standing in the middle of the ballroom, dressed in an impeccable bellhop’s uniform, the deep red complimenting his light skin and dark hair. He smirks at her, not afraid to show his enjoyment in the cat and mouse game he’s started, and he stands up straighter, arms behind his back.

She swallows hard at the image, a far cry from what the man – one of the Jones’ – looked like in photographs, vase still held high, as unease settles in her stomach. A wicked glint enters the man’s eye right as she opens her mouth to question him, but his words bet her to it.

“Checking in?” he asks, the devil on his lips and staining his words, smirk widening as he pulls a butcher’s knife dripping with blood from behind his back. 

Holding back a scream, Emma tosses the vase with all her might.

Only for it to land right at his feet.

He clicks his tongue, chastising. “That hurts, love.”

The man, sin draped in red, starts a slow approach towards her and she immediately puts a table between them. Demands for Henry’s whereabouts rest on the tip of her tongue and she steels herself to face the man down when she hears her name echo from the hallway. The man’s brow furrows as his attention is momentarily taken by Henry’s yell and she uses it to her advantage.

With all her might, she pushes the table forward and straight towards the man. She doesn’t wait to see the impact, instead immediately turning on her heel and rushing out the white doors, leaving a cacophony of crashes in her wake.

Emma runs through the hallways, yelling out Henry’s name in quick intervals, her voice frantic and on the verge of becoming hoarse. He calls back to her, more frightened than she’s ever heard before, and she nearly barrels through the wall as she rushes into the kitchen.

“Henry!” she cries in relief, rushing over to hug him and falling to her knees in the process. He stands still in shock as she wraps her arms around him. Relief floods her system and she kisses his cheeks, murmuring how she’s happy she’s found him but that they have to leave. Except he doesn’t move. “Henry?” She pulls away from her embrace and examines his face, pale and sweaty. His breathing is as quick as hers and his eyes seem fixed on a point beyond her shoulder. 

Standing up straight and turning to face whatever has her son in a trace, Emma immediately knows why.

Sunshine filters through two windows on the far wall of the kitchen as if putting a spotlight on the long stainless steel rolling table in the middle of the room. A lone figure lays on it, white sheet covering their body with one arm hanging loose. An uneaten apple rests precariously in the figure’s hand, blood dripping from the fruit onto the figure’s fingertips and down to a growing puddle on the floor.

“Let’s get out of here, kid.” Despite speaking in a whisper, it’s as if her words shatter the delicate calm over the room for not a moment passes before the figure sits up straight without effort. Emma and Henry scream in terror, jumping back but unable to tear their eyes from the sight before them despite her efforts to push her kid behind her.

Emma knows that figure.

Dressed in a dark gown with a matching black corset situated on top, the tall collar of the dress nearly reaches the figure’s ears. The vibrant red lipstick, their trademark, makes this figure – this Evil Queen – unmistakeable.

She’s studied the photos of the disappeared enough to recognize Regina Mills when she sees her, be it through photographs or in this… projection of sorts. The last photo of the former mayor of Storybrooke had been by Sydney Glass for the newspaper and it was taken right here, in the kitchens of the Hollywood Tower Hotel.

Emma knows the photo well. It was a posed shot, the mayor’s perfectly poised persona coming through in every shot as if being photographed by Vogue instead of the Storybrooke Mirror. The kitchen photo was of Regina leaning over an apple bite, a sampling on a fork hovering in the air on its way to her mouth. The piece in the newspaper was supposed to be about how Regina made her own desserts for the charity Halloween ball, her famous apple pie chief among them. The perfect kind of writeup for someone preparing to run again.

This Regina feels like a completely different person from the one she imagined through the photos. This one has a wicked grin and a narrowed gaze, portraying the perfect villain for a storybook tale.

Her voice runs like a smooth velvet down their spines as she inquires, “Won’t you stay for a bite?”

The wicked grin transforms into a sickly-sweet smile on her lips and Regina lifts her arm, long fingernails painted a shiny black adorning her blood-stained fingers and brings the dripping apple to her lips. She tilts her head at Emma and Henry who stare at her in shock and takes a large chunk out of it. In an instant, both Regina and the apple sizzle.

The apple rots before their eyes, turning as black as Regina’s nails, melting into her hand and sliding in large wet chucks to the floor. The former mayor is next, her skin drooping, cheek growing flaccid until it drops as low as her chin before falling to the metal table, revealing muscle and bone in its wake. Those too begin to droop and melt like the apple had, the sizzling noise growing louder as more of Regina disappears into a puddle.

Her smile, the sickly-sweet one that turns Emma’s stomach, remains on the mayor’s face despite their screams of terror and despite her body literally melting away before her.

Emma and Henry don’t stay long enough to watch the puddle that was Regina drip to the floor.

Her son’s tiny hand clasped in her own, Emma leads the two of them back to the lobby and the only exit she knows. Their lungs burn with fright and fatigue. They only come to a stop once they reach the lobby, their pants filling the silence as they take in the scene before them.

Leaning as far back in his chair as possible is LJ. Absolute terror colors his features and he shakes his head frantically as a womanly figure dances under an isolated cloud in what looks to be acid rain. The water’s green glow shines through the lobby and when she spins, a few raindrops leave her circle and land on the armrest of LJ’s chair, hissing as it burns through to the ground. He pulls his legs up to his chest to make himself as small as possible.

A second figure approaches LJ, a tall gentleman in a tailored suit and perfectly styled blonde hair. His attention is fixated on LJ and when he reaches a hand towards his own head, Emma turns Henry’s shoulders and presses his face against her stomach in anticipation of what’s to come. She’s glad she followed her gut as the moment Henry’s vision is no longer of the scene in front of her, the gentleman pulls his head from his shoulders dropping his hand to his side as the head in its grip continues talking some nonsense about enjoying their stay.

Emma merely gasps out a shuddered breath, feeling like she barely has any air in her lungs left so she can scream.

Oh no, she thinks, that’s my parents.

“A tad dramatic, isn’t it?” an accented voice drawls behind her. She cautiously turns her head in its direction as she holds Henry tighter in her arms. The man from the ballroom stands by the check-in desk looking bored and not as devious as he’d been a few minutes ago. “I prefer the subtle scare,” he continues, lifting his bloodied knife from beneath the desk. Her eyes widen as her breathing staggers again.

Even if she didn’t study their photos so much growing up, she’d know from the captivating blue eyes that this was LJ’s brother. Killian Jones. 

There’s been plenty of information about most of the people in the elevator that night. Regina had been mayor for as long as anyone could remember, her parents were staples in the community for their jobs and their volunteer work, and Liam Jones was the eldest of Brennan Jones’ two sons, poised to take over the hotel once their father retired. He’d met with vendors and local residents to ensure smooth relationships, and he captained the many events the hotel entered. His younger brother Killian was a mystery though.

She had nothing to go off of when it came to him, making him the most terrifying of everything she’s seen tonight.

Liam Jones walks out from one of the employee back rooms decked out in his fully Hollywood Tower Hotel uniform and shakes his head at Killian. “Be honest with the lass, little brother. You’re just mad those two have finally upstaged you.”

The elder of the two plucks the knife from Killian’s lax grip and holds it up for inspection. Emma feels the moment Liam’s eyes peer at her just over the bloodied metal.

He points the knife at her. “This yours?”

Emma doesn’t know if he’s asking after the ownership of the knife or its blood but she’s had enough. Adrenaline is leaving her body at a fast pace and she will not allow her son to be trapped inside this god forsaken place.

It’s been years since she’s picked up Henry in her arms but she does so in an instant with a strength she didn’t know she possessed. His body is wrecked with tremors and he clutches tighty to her shirt, his legs wrapping around her waist without hesitation as he buries his face into her neck. She cradles him to her chest as she rushes back out to the patio, around the hotel, and to the driveway, only glancing back at LJ once to see him scrambling from his seat and rushing after them.

*

The Hollywood Tower Hotel glooms over them from the sidewalk like a proud enemy declaring victory. It makes her sick.

“What the hell was that?!” Emma yells the moment she regains enough breath to do so. Her side is in stitches and her fingers shake uncontrollably. She can’t help but bend at her waist as she takes in her son. Tears have stopped rolling down Henry’s cheeks, the drying tracks the only sign of his fear, and he stares up at the hotel in deep thought.

He’s going to need so much therapy after this.

“How could you let him go in there?!” she continues, glaring at LJ. He leans back against the cement fencing, sweaty and pale with wide eyes.

“I-I didn’t know it was haunted!”

“It’s your hotel! You do the maintenance!”

“Yeah, I can do it all from the outside!” LJ shrieks. “I’ve never been brave enough to go in before!”

The admittance sits on her chest like a heavy weight. All three of them entered the situation in the dark, no knowledge of what to expect. If Emma knew what horrors laid on the other side of the gate, she would have hauled Henry back to his room immediately.

For the rumors and paranormal investigators that followed her for her entire life, she guesses they weren’t wrong.

So maybe the Hollywood Tower Hotel is haunted. And not by any regular ghosts but by her parents and the others in the elevator.

“We have to go back in and help them!”

She looks away from LJ to stare at her son incredulously. “What are you talking about?!”

Henry seems to be taking things in stride as he presses his face through the gate again, eyes fixated on the hotel. “We have to help the ghosts.”

“I think they’re beyond wanting help, kid,” Emma says. She straightens up slowly and with a wince, the pull in her side from carrying Henry down the hilly drive becoming more prominent. “They literally just scared us out of the building. Or tried to kill us, take your pick.”

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips and Emma already feels her resolve waning. Ghosts are not real. This is not real. None of this can be happening. It all sounded so crazy. 

She closes her eyes and pinches her arm long and hard, hoping that when she opens her eyes, she’ll wake in her bed. When she opens her eyes, she’s agitated to see herself still outside the hotel.

“Come on, you heard all the stories about Grandma and Grandpa!” Henry explains. “They wouldn’t act like that! Maybe something bad is keeping them there and they’re trying to stop anyone else from being stuck.”

LJ is still as white as, well, a ghost. He eyes the two of them wearily and shakes his head. “Be my guest,” he says, tossing his arm towards the hotel, “but I am not going back in there.”

“Henry,” Emma starts gently. “We don’t know them. Maybe they were like that and played cruel jokes on people when they were alive.” His lip wobbles at her words and she does her best to steel herself. She doesn’t think she can face her parents again either, not if they’re bitter ghosts who live to frighten the daylights out of anyone they see. “They scared us. I don’t want to help them.”

Henry shakes his head, turning away from Emma to gaze up at the building through the fencing. “Maybe they’re just scared too.”

[backstoriesandbackstabbings]

Everwood

(The writing here is slanted and smudged as the previous entry. It does look hastily written, and there are several water damage spots on the pages.) 

We traveled to Everwood after completing the trials for Aryndra and teaming up briefly with the Iron King and his team: Elder Banwynn & Maple (elder vampire brother to Cedar and Birch). 

The Iron King agreed to meet us here -- a meeting which I proposed to assist Tobias and his studies. I never questioned why he was so interested in the world’s first immortal. Now though, I worry that I am too late to ask. 

When we first arrived to Everwood, we took note of the giant tear in the sky and Cyrus came across a poster for a challenge that both he and Mullus were very interested in. I thought that we had more time, so I saw no harm in competing. We did a bit of shopping, I got my hair done and ran into a familiar face:  Pseudoris. We caught up briefly, and discovered that she ran away from Emerald Harbor....again.

I saw Edan in the crowd that day and my heart felt lighter than it has in the last few weeks! Of course I should have followed the crowd and the gold, the easiest way to track my slippery brother. Booze, beautiful people, and gold. Is that sacrilegious to write now that he is a God? Presumably, Edan made some good coin off of us, and of course I bet through him. As Grandmother would say: Waste not, want not. Betting on my life is a safe enough gamble, if I lose, I will be too dead to mourn the loss of coin.

Of course, considering that I am writing this entry, we survived and won. The affair consisted of three challenges, the last of which was a draconic-hydra beast. After securing our earnings from an Orc named Biscuit, the party split up for a bit, with a plan to meet back here in this tavern; The Hero’s Hearth. 

Cyrus and I went off to the library to finally meet up with Tobias. After speaking with the information desk, the elf informed me that he was sent on a mission with his tutor, Mistral. I scried on Tobias whilst in the Amerenthian Library. A spot I remember him showing me in the Dreams that we shared together. I had hoped to see him again -- in person this time. Or so I thought. I had thought I had more time. I didn’t realize he was in danger. Tobias -- (The writing here is too smudged and the paper is water damaged leaving dark splotches of puddled ink. The writing continues on a new page.)

My vision revealed to me a floating glowing ribcage atop a throne of flesh and bone. The Ribcage, Mul’s alit with an eerie pulsating red glow that cast dark shadows across the dark underground interior.  The Ribcage humming, alive with this insatiable craving, wanting, a deep endless hunger. Behind me was the sound of flesh ripping, tearing from muscle and bone. The greedy mouths of the undead devouring and consuming down to the very marrow. The zombies huddled around the remains, and I was horrified to look. Scared of the face that may stare back at me. They were not Tobias. Thank the Gods and Goddesses. One male figure stood cloaked tall and imposing nearly ten feet away. I did not recognize his side-profile, he was a stranger to me. I will kill him and make him pay if he hurt my friend. I will raise him for the satisfaction of killing him again if I should discover that Tobias came to harm by his hand. I will make him crave the sweet release of a true death. (The letters here press deep into the paper, and the quill bled, ink dripping down slightly and there is a line break between the next paragraph.)

I told Edan what I saw, and even in his stupor I could sense his hesitation and fear. His heart raced under my cheek. Fearful for me, but too protective to allow me to go alone. I hope I don’t lead us all to such grave ends. But I fear -- I think Tobias may still be alive? How else would I be able to scry upon him? Perhaps his essence resides within the Ribcage? Please...forgive me, my friend. I never meant to fail you. If you are alive in there...I’m coming.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Hi 😊, two things.

One that phone case is adorable! What type of paint did you use to make it, and how did you seal it so it would last? And same! I wanna learn more about the little D's so badly I love them! Devs please use them more!

And two, I just learned from a random text chat I got today that Mc freed Belphie, and made 5 out of 7 packs in the first 100 days of thier stay in Devildom! Like damn Mc is insane! All the information from you compiled for your general canon facts made me go wow they're so cool🤩. But speed running controlling the lords of hell, next level.

- 💙🐏 (<< I'm the Gen Z info dumping anon)

Hi!!

Thank you, I had way too much fun making it & I'm still riding the high of that and am desperate to do another one😭

I used mostly a mix of acrylic paint & fabric paint. I ran outta white for the background & couldn't be bothered to go buy more so I used this really pigmented watercolour set for it🤷

Someone suggested Modge Podge to seal it in? And you can get a gell, matte or satin varnish used specially for acrylics from just about any art shop.

Did I use any of those great options though? No.

Because I only remembered I needed something to seal it when I was almost done and it'd take a while to get it delivered & I needed it immediately because;

1. dust kept sticking on the case even when it was dry

2. I was dead scared I was gonna drop my phone while it didn't have a case

So I used transparent ✨ nail polish ✨ It actually worked really well? It made the colours pop and it sealed it in well. No idea how well it'll hold out though so I ordered the proper stuff to use as a backup

It wasn't the little ds though, it was those 7 little fuckers that possessed their bodies during 2021's devil day. They never got explained and I'm obsessed with them😭 I want whatever Mul & Aster have got going on🥲 Valago's such a shit and I'm insane about him???

Possessed Little D's Phone Case

General MC is just!!!??? I made a post recently about how fucking insane MC is and people either interpreted it in a "yeah I don't like MC too" way or in a "I need to defend MC's actions because obviously op doesn't like them!" way and I'm like No!!???? I'm in love with them!?

Like I fully understand why all the other OM! characters are obsessed with them. Because like yeah MC is the most dateable. Hell I'd happily date MC. Please let me date MC....

[giantimpex]

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The dog harness with a simple design and quick snap buckles make it easy to put on and take off. The locking feature on both snaps makes it more secure.

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[telerain1]

Knowledge Management for Better Unified Communications Service

A contact call center serves as an important support link between customers and businesses. It’s become a key area in the overall operations, focusing on understanding clients’ or customers’ requirements and thereby meeting and exceeding their expectations. Call centers are no longer perceived as a place where a long row of agents or executives sat answering phone calls in a mundane manner and environment. With the advent of new technology, unified communication, cloud call center software, or unified communication have become much more powerful tools to engage customers, answer queries, and increase sales, which puts the customer at much more ease. This ease has become as important to a company's success as the product itself.

When the cloud call center team handling the UC software has thorough understanding, practice, and ease of handling the software; switching between different functions seamlessly, it will be considered a team that delivers its job with ease.

In today’s technology driven environment, everything seems to have picked up speed. Whether it is shopping or studying; finding a service provider or consultant, or whatever you can think of, the speed at which you can get things done and the efficiency with which you can deliver determine your success. Communication forms the most important link of this whole cycle. And what better way to drive communication than installing cloud call center software. It is known by other names like Omni Channel, unified communications, and so on. And organizations that provide these services are known as "cloud call center service providers."

A call center executive who is able to move through the entire process without difficulty is the best example of knowledge management serving its purpose. This is the reason professional cloud call center providers place so much emphasis on understanding your requirements before customizing them and discussing them at length before installing one that will serve your business type. Secondly, they will share knowledge management with your team that is going to handle cloud call center software. Knowledge management is an integral part of the unified communication center. If not, no matter how sophisticated your call center service might be, your team will only use it as a basic communication tool, like a telephone.

[ramreboot]

Painting practice thing of Mul! 2nd pic is without the saturation adjustments. Kinda torn on both of them, because on one hand, saturation is pretty, but on the other hand, maybe the pale moody aesthetic is more fitting?

Fun fact time!

He grows most of his own veggies. He’s not supposed to be out in the open because he’s got social anxiety he’s visibly inhuman so not like grocery shopping is convenient.

Well, actually, because of how much of an asset he is (The exorcists at the Sanctum will never call him an employee or exorcist like them. Only an asset, because they don’t wanna refer to him as a person), he does have his personal grocery deliverer, like other high ranking exorcists who call for it! Usually low-ranking exorcist mentees do such work. They’re treated like interns. And because his high position and demand makes him a high earner, he does have the money to buy lots of groceries.

But he prefers to be a hermit and pities those poor interns so he doesn’t give em a big grocery list.

Anyway, man’s got green thumbs. You know those pics of fishing dads holding up cradling their catch? Or holding them next to their head? That’s him with like. Turnips or carrots or smth

He’s such a lil blorbo if you just look past the intimidating autism stare

[jaipurmorni]

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