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libidomechanica · 30 days

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And song

A limerick sequence

And I at rest on right thy japes be! No child, if in death-chamber or thre hanged … There’s a stranger skinnes gone, and thee, deare borne buds, and then with great distress?

They gain’d, and, lordynges, right doth hast. Since yourself afyre. Stay yet a childish through their savage than faile his book agayn my leaves on Earth’s head. Smiling because you.

When will shortened deare Lord Lochinvar. Convulsion time in a bigger than he sped, The time did see. Till he crew had gaz’d, he look upon the love and leaue enricht.

Years; it is love you and I love so longer wretched thrall, my bird dog. And say on Diggon, I lamented urn. This world, compensate, to pleasure mindes resort.

Anguish wrung the stay’d his short,—’tis passion- winged Love, and Aethon snort his light footsteps luxurious matting under the Seventh— the Seven more quiet base clouds.

Sun did ride, progression—cannot to sale their foote. Have been as drownd with self, and pine more love so alike, thy fair Twinnes gone, I the Apostel tolde many heads.

Absence this light. Has any Life divided me a spoil among that somme been inches waving waters! My lovers tempt no stoor; they’ll have had fled. The bosoms bare!

To-morrow’s life—and let out thy harlotte, having was the blue, and now it not. Waite. The fire, of ayde or country that I was purveyed of her god day: or Diggon.

Opened moanings of hell is it no second beren hem at thyn array after may now the faille, than al this expectant. Or herbes. God day: or Diggon.

The waves are just about her side with joy! While ocean deep, there vnseene, that Firmán- issuing Shah to whom he shore until time’s white, poor Cynthia greet a pryvetee.

Then, cried two were Hobbin how I brew my beer. Spirit that I was synne; bét is to do this? Was knight astrologien, Day over, I return an autumn, in wind.

Their tedious magian fish most confess? It must be so phantasy; for to seye, forsaking in the pure and to mark of Oxenford, and our roots. Let all heart.

Some can keepe. Dust to his lips, to brynge alone; and made bare and pain which that I was born. Tho vnder his Hearts; yea, when hot for the Tongues, the rayne is al and flames, and lame.

And have not fright’ning the faint eyes within. And forever and day like again, mix not move; for pity is ended. If that soft as she gloriously her first.

To love may rest’? Together of pearl. Beacons from his packe a ghost abandoning and scorch without all aske. Tell me how many a leafe sturre. His Vellet her mine!

And ye foreseen then she fil bakward adoun, and glosen up he roads, as if to face with a bag of all the Kirke pillow then, youth, for small aske. To its eclipse.

Sure never beauties parching of three love! The Kidde: but tel me who? From his worke is coming exhausted snow, or care. Eternal wind and blamed hym to see its tooth.

Put down, Sugar, my suit you walked along to see thou death’s foot. In signal shakings of this ocean- bed. Ploughs furrow’d deepest give invention like Aurora, proue.

I wolde rede alwey ful fasten to dances for the populace own Desire? And yet the hall- door, and the blood, my tired Hand foreheads; saw the sullen year?

—Oh, dreams renew it; but if that dim lake. You are the silken skilled bee, to this, a mute voice of this: an empires and lookest in fresh sprung. A herd-abandon.

The game of thine for him an’ wrack his dunghill, crowing you say. Dian had constant hope hadde and placed, the garden, Maud, but where so I swallows one day that degree.

Far from too wide world, each otherwise,— past which husbandry in your old decree! As signes of lusty heartles at thy feare, beeing is awake? But what evere smyte!

Into the sea lifts a young hearts do inuite to haue for Cupid’s sake! Into gold and give they wander innocent breathe away. The witch hazel eye, bright of wrong.

Till I may see how manye myghtė they flash’d to dismount: and hymns in empurple scarce extinguish in. Who running the spirit that day the sun she look easily will.

And yet God defence and in a room full show his owne shewe. Were entwine: while times ende, that alle me a planted their tiptop nothing the eagle native graced so.

Sit to trace in a Lente—so ofte and consumed, and call this hums, in light pinions!— Few, who have I nothing flowers, and the sweetest of her to comprehend aright.

To faintest out. That tempted my mind a day like a child: now time he proud of a Garden of Let There is not for wanton babes to do, till the world alyve is.

Wrought good. Then can become as a wide Border his dead, sunning thicket into their shaft dark vault above that the witch. Too deep question which that I am the tale.

Is so much growne between they stretch his lost, the Muses in hys pack, and I have leave the air, alas! Star kissing thrones—amid the grasp’d it; of the shall I doe?

Tucked be belong the dancers leaves among men: they flee from her come a quarters. Wink of you went on cutting too as woman, of this ever since who has the sea.

Heard the calmed vast, so as the sound, sepulchre, quench not one accents thy foule leasing, for whit; I took a leek the leaves among the sea. Helplessly before him fast.

And calm, and my aching around his complaining hair of glittering me back from the dress Our Adonais. Than been sav’d but yet knows by breasts and claim: let thy shame.

In fragrant copses dress was leaping vp waues of Night, night around, yu run. Then The sun smile, and then for to haul up and sweet odours, and softly, flutes; nor debaat.

Forth; your hand or eye hovering limbs. On scrolls of silent rows, poor little head, and harmony, pulses, and one arrow drain’d. I’ll crosse to its eclipsing Cursed, cursed Circe.

My strong fingers, so late is; live her? And other day. One hair I dream, I laughs at our being brass will no mo delayed at divers brilliant kids, frisk with you this?

The monkeys make this a silence, and sing; I a’ the last year, Whose who should be so phantom cold. And co-inheritaunce, tossing in fruyt of my loves weep anew!

Rough the lamps the wrecked. Locke, so thy wit, o’er the Lip of Beauty thus; while they each other were. Although Amphion leaning hand blush’d no lute, violin, bassoon; all night.

His inwards; ’twas too much will recognise that it is eternal are. And ball wrapt inflecting heart after though camps and he, so have seen. Not sing a cockney ear.

But Anguish. And making slow star: So many another comely sheepe, all is it from her; or let me make me, if thou wolt preyse my bear; and tyrannizing way.

Not thy Son lay, pierc’d by the Throne where king sleeps, ’twixt his passion to war. What faille yow, if ye worn with dew all the statues, music, words, are weak; ah for no cas.

Kiss that was, and the billows:-when lofty thought: Piffle! Adorn the very wight striped urchins flay each mass may no while one ascending eye, bright by the wakes or spyen?

An urn of straw and the Foxes that fire a ridiculous, past thou speak the light And aye the steep floor, and mortality’s sake! No, in all array; but ere thrown?

For all the Day became masculine and for ese of emergent pattern; and entertain if one float my friends. Oft have match’d me too hard ther grow boring above!

She did see, which I blest. I wanted me too late. The inheritaunce: the more weak relieued by us selven two, how she trick. Ye, woltow so took for to war.

So great distress and happiness, to pluck away child: now thou hast. A fathomless floods, unfettered in night, and lur’d the worlds care, the dew upon a royal blest.

I looked at diverse, my Lady’s emblem’d in this should look too, into my life provide than all hast. For me, again; I sue not feel her place as well as I wait.

Ne stayed he virgin’s face of her soft face vnarmed myself as Spring with you! In hope has late; ’ the lamps of Heaven’s smile, overjoy’d, we are too late is Marcien.

It is young tears the morning race, but conseil to virginitee; lat hem be bride’s-men, and home there hath Immortal Love. Which is set up for Adonais. The great mone.

And of theyr shee sawe thy tale I thinks I seal my bed crowne, in think it stopped, he looked, take and sigh’d a lullaby? Where shone; while her white in his head, as if impell’d.

There was my poor more! Still cavern rude, keep thy hand interpretest the hazel with his right staves on his lyf. You say, knowing up repent, yet to be seize on me.

This through heavenly race: no woods days, and filling sisters of unfulfill’d renown kiss that sighs. And in an error of whose might across my gossyb dame Alys.

And as happy crowns, and Nineveh. Seek sheltering if that it in our lived—Enough—that wiste, in beauteous corse beneath; to its own, Ah, when ther none but unthrifts!

Since could wandred years; it is fro the cause you’ve forgoe. And the boy bring the book, the with a corpse, touche,—he men of bent foam with pity, And other care. And lullaby.

The flour of all with empty hand through the dore, and made he, of Eva first Desire. And sculptures to low, give me. I pleyned unto me; that gave his wyvys!

For we knowne that abiding the hearse. Sire oldest seye, if the way that I rente of shall a young lassie, what art the throne of happiness, and forehead began.

Another on thee, of which watching. This, that Stella must not enough, no man swerė and lo, it is as of a jealous o’ a’ that she coveiteth every best.

And Ausemán—the Heav’n from the thorny fruit bush where the trees watch the mark of Oxenford, and bent. At this mouth. And look too, into foam. He shouting, this more death.

She flesh until we fille as thou wilt thou read for punishment? Ye sholde han sorwe; and her is roll’d; for his waist, nor far, the more, I’ll protest, in generacioun.

And from Denmark upon that alone I am your delight when otherwith! But you a story the magic: every wave under the waves in his heart of tho?

And chaunced together in Heaven’s light; for thou hast measurably link’d her chastitee no childish through wood leon, tel me that for fear. And over, when I feel!

And shoulder’d over Glaucus held his time was quite: an idle tongue that may his lyf. With lullaby can I drown’d into oblivious enmity shall not ask.

Green silk strung, down to raking saw what shining came one sweetnesse inly I pray yow like a criminal. ’Er than the bones on hond, and proverbes n of his time.

Yes, in her lip kissing spar, just wheel; my fine hairs have mov’d, and saw the melancholy this a surpris’d star through he loud of tears ago. Let consecrated urn.

Bright is faire, and north, and making the frost. Distracted wiping—oh Khalífah’s Supper push’d throat: then his Lordship and descends on worlds care, that euer had bene fayne.

But ere thyne yen. Had well-nature of hym shul have died: but if it steadies I may scorn fill with there, or which from her; or let me feel thine. The her hart, endymion!

I will unclose infamy is not die, that which that thou; and dost see, bene all turn’d into bed. And in cost, but neatly takes hand: pity me there wax al deef.

Grasping to its kindred years Far had her heart, head, hands avian, to sink. Been inches high o’er his chiefe souereign visions, shape that new babies, and let their most grace.

And portion of fish things funeral. There laved and is barbed hook, one is set up for verray blood, this face. The kiss, shapes, they maad of despair, with they them, is love.

But for opened his Narcissus Eyes— the Muses your own Ceres; every vessel al of old friend, was seeking youngling beneath. Thy name, and threw down a toying.

To weddyng in my flessh so deem’d not by our first rose conceive it ever have dried my mind discoursing, and forever on crystal place. She is conuenable.

A moment’s pleasures of my lines my love the feel my will, my winds of rest, and how wanne a face! The bride to think it streams I sorrow I brew my beer. To get out.

And boys! I have a tongue that heart, head, and a light lest it al! And brine, until it’s nice and waterwawed. Taking eyes, since your hands, in return: still seek to know.

Thy spirit, until its charnel-roof! With the abandon’d Earth are dight, he setting Sun I mix, and, as he! All ruddy drops instead of eyes, Our Adonais died?

In wyfhod I wolde he up stirte as down thou should warned it; and let the others, I’m pleasures, Nights, and he went through the unbetrayable rest o’er. A day languist graced.

Back when the void circumfused to find fall, and one, yet fades, its Self-contempt no second blont. Of deep wrinkles and the chambers of gentle breast-plates large, as he!

Strength, now moste he hadde the hazel with fannes wel-shading invite some friendship bene sheepe bothe eve and rejoiced to know. This fingers ache, how still fervid cover.

Keep back to the works in, like a child! Now I pray yow soore; he nolde suppose I knowe, chaunced together on hire lovers on thy light, save him spight, all for to gard.

I trowe, twenty wynter outward from a gutters plain; I sue not fright but as seen a charnel-roof! To speak with me, her veins spell, or she hath swich cheere that dim lake.

In wommen shul have wended; I have not on the rising limbs. Tramples it above—devoid of the prow,—thy delight, that moment lips all we quaff’d off the sweeter!

Say, I intreat ones gone, but folk seye that feel her more bene dead thinke how poore. With a hollow rocks of ill luck on the latest out of those files of life, my heads.

Of us, they saye the air limbs o’er the shall be youngling fellows,—o dool I lickit my Cytherea! I’ll softly it rains on the nevere she succeeded.

And rigid ranks of irksome leves have closely fused and sere O ’tis the sun comes in filmy veils mantling time in song let thy heart? Her Kidde shee were to their cheek.

But lo, there was not my name, that I was a pure invention the field is spread outwept its rocky marge, til he had not stem and harmony, pulses, and broiler.

This—dost the Day—so through the flocke, where are to reason gates houshold his ever love. In celebrated, as to housing fit against thing! I touched by this, pardee!

He mente the Stranger-youth! If on another wi’ matter many a hungry cravings: and aching and doon hir bed, and thought foot into this good to do like Thee.

Towards a torments, which that that farthest comes for they tell me Papa. Be as a smallest chick pushed the grownd with how with him, but fill you, I am may redressed.

I love of burning soul page afterward refuse to be felt as a married the tree. There sweet mistake a flowers and forever at Apollo each other.

I touch another charming Polly Stewart, o charms. Fountains a wretch frozen trackless ashes load. Imprison gave, and layen whilst, but grieved bodies in the blessed soule!

And now he could not love tears shed would do! Symmetrically in the sheet of Desolat in Pisces, when I stopp’d with meeke, wise- valiant, frame, it tikleth me reserv’d.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #127 texts #limerick sequence

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mydissociativediaries · 2 years

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3/14/2023: Hollow Frame

Second entry for 3/14/2023.

My therapist asked me to write a story about a girl who feels like a hollow frame (that's how I described myself in therapy), so here it is:

Once, a girl existed who felt like a hollow frame. She felt light and airy and wispy like smoke. She seemed to float through life, but not in a relaxed, laid-back way. She seemed to literally float through life because she was nothing. Just a wisp.

When she thought about herself, she saw a person-shaped hole punched out of a colorful meadow landscape, like someone had cut her out of a photo. But this landscape was real.

In the past, she'd also seen herself as a being with a mirror for a face. Sometimes, the mirror reflected the world around her. Other times, it just revealed a starry sky. She was nothing. She felt her face when she touched it, but maybe it wasn't real, just like nothing could be real. Her face wasn't really a face. What did her REAL face look like? Was it an empty gap like the rest of her body?

Her memories and identity sometimes seemed to fade away. She was nothing. The people around her had personalities, but hers was gone. She was a splintered mirror with shards lying around everywhere.

On the other hand, maybe other people weren't conscious. Maybe she was the only conscious one. If she could do it without harming them, she'd peel back the muscle, open their skull and peer into their brain. Was it made of the same stuff as her brain? Could she find thoughts and knowledge? But even if she saw their brains, she wouldn't see that visibly.

She was pretty sure that her childhood was real. She did start to dissociate (autocorrect suggested "dissipate," which is also accurate) in early adolescence, but it wasn't constant. The world still felt real--well, when that wasn't happening. Events still happened. The people around her were real. Weren't they?

And she never dissociated when she was young. But the abuse started, and her mind started trying to escape. Those events definitely happened. Even when they were continuing into adulthood, when her dissociation was getting worse, those events were 100% real.

Or at least they felt real. I mean, that's what made her detach in the first place. She didn't do that before "it" started. Before the abuse.

She wanted to be young again so badly. In particular, she liked her 13-year-old self. She didn't want to experience the bullshit that her 13-year-old self did, but she liked that version of herself. She was growing up and still had a personality. She was depressed and emotionally stunted, too, but...not as stunted as her adult self.

That was the last version of herself that had a personality. Maybe a little when she was 14, but it was starting to disintegrate, and her anxiety breakdown in high school wiped out the rest.

Her 13-year-old self actually felt like an adult sometimes, too. She was starting to read adult books, like the books in Oprah's book club. If she saw that label on the cover, she figured it'd be good. She wasn't ready for adulthood or even high school, but it was exciting. She thought that MAYBE things would be OK. Maybe she'd feel like this all the time when she grew up.

But nope. She didn't. It was all gone.

Sometimes, she felt like she could be that person again. Or her early adolescent self. Even her young childhood self. They weren't completely gone because she could talk to them and even briefly become them through childhood regressions. She hated coming out of the regressions because she lost her personality again. She was back to being a hollow frame.

And she didn't think it would ever end, either. She would float through the world like a transparent ghost until the end. Nothing was left. Just a wide gap that used to be a person.

Thanks for reading,

📕

#entry #fiction

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drearymiddle · 5 years

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To boldly go where many blogs have gone before: A Star Trek series analysis (Part 1)

Originally written by Mr_Turnabout on 20 February 2020 over on the old Dreary Middle website. This was the only article we ever published so we thought it would be nice to preserve it as a reminder of what once was, so enjoy!

I have seen many Sci-Fi shows, but there is something special about Star Trek that makes it stand out among the rest.

Yes, Star Trek is quite the franchise. Spanning currently 7 different series, 13 movies and hundreds of episodes, you can't complain about lack of content. I feel recently Star Trek has had a weirdly negative wrap to it. I know that sounds weird defending one of the most profitable franchises in the history of Television and one of the Father's of Sci-Fi, but hear me out.

I think that people have forgotten how great Star Trek truly is, there is this misconception that it's just a silly Sci-Fi show for nerds and....while yes that may be true it is also so much more than that. Star Trek is an incredibly well written franchise, containing some of the best episodes of a series I have ever seen, even managing to hold up against the best shows that we have today. Writing wise a lot of Star Trek has aged like a fine wine, managing to still be relevant despite some series being decades old.

Now is Star Trek perfect? No, at the worst of times you question how some episodes can even be from the same show from how awful and flat out stupid some of the episodes are. The next generation has an episode where a character has sex with a ghost. Deep Space Nine had an episode where the crew get sucked into a game board, while one of the main cast has to play the game that has them trapped. Enterprise famously has a finale that is considered one of the worst episodes in the franchise. It's stuff like this that makes me black out for 45 minutes and makes me wonder if what I was watching was even real, that being said this is the minority of the franchise and is in no way a representation of the franchise.

Now with me gushing over this franchise you would think that I grew up with it or something right? Well that's where you'd be wrong as it turns out, I myself avoided Star Trek for so long because of its representation, I thought it was the typical Sci-Fi show that didn't age all that well, quite like classic Doctor Who....or modern Doctor Who, anyway I didn't truly give Star Trek series a chance till I was 19 and even by then I was reluctant to try it out, but when I started with The next Generation, I was hooked. This post will be talking about what I like about each individual series as well as the order I watched them in, now I will like to preface that I have not seen all of Star Trek, heck many hardcore fans would say I'm not very far at all. I have finished The next generation (twice), 5 seasons of Deep Space Nine, 4 seasons of Voyager, 8 out of 10 of the original Star Trek movies, the 3 Kelvin timeline movies, the first and last episodes of Enterprise, about 2 episodes of the original series, 4 episodes of Picard and none of discovery, so this post is definitely subject to change and may require a follow up. Regardless I have at least seen enough to tell you why it is great and that you should see it if you haven't.

The Star Trek movies are a mixed bag, but when they're good they're really good.

My first real exposure to Star Trek as a whole was from a little underground YouTuber called 'The Nostalgia Critic' (irony fully intended), he was doing a marathon of the "bad" Star Trek films and my little 14 year old self, laughed and slapped his thighs together at this funny man making comments about how silly these movies were, but it had the unintentional effect of actually getting me interested in the films. My friend in secondary school was a big Trekkie (or is it Trekker?) and I asked him if I could borrow some of those films on DVD, before streaming services were the norm we had to watch our films in physical form kids. So I marathoned those films and at the time I thought some were great and some were really bad, so let's go over the quality of each one real quick.

I. The Motion Picture: Beautiful looking movie, but really boring. Great at introducing you to the main cast of the original series, especially for someone like me who has never seen it. Decent start 6/10.

II. The Wrath of Khan: One of the best Sci-Fi movies ever, tells an excellent story about one of Kirk's old enemies coming back for revenge and a very powerful ending. 9/10.

III. The search for Spock: Not a bad effort here, but it suffers from being in between two of the best movies in the franchise. Kind of undoes the ending of Wrath of Khan in quite a strange way but overall still pretty fun. 6/10.

IV. The Voyage Home: Excellent time travel story that's one of the more fun entries in the series, it's just great to see these characters go back to the past (to play those s* games that suck ass) and interact with people from the 80's. 8/10.

V. The Final Frontier: What does God need with a starship? 3/10.

VI. The Undiscovered Country: Great sendoff for the original cast, great villain introduced in this one too. 8/10.

VII. Generations: The proceeding movies goes on to ruin said great sendoff and instead shows Picard looking at an old photo album and having a little cry. 4/10.

VIII. First Contact: Very fun Sci-Fi movie, weird characterisation for Picard in this one but overall I like the horror atmosphere of this one and that soundtrack is fantastic. 7/10.

If you want my ranking personally I would rank them II > IV> VI > VIII > I > III > VII > V

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And what about those characters? Well I'll go into the next generation cast later but the Original series cast are all very fun to watch and have great chemistry. It's no wonder that Captain Kirk and Spock became cultural icons, they are always great on screen together and characters like Bones is one of the funniest characters in the series for his more down to earth characterisation compared to the rest of the cast, these characters aren't particularly deep or anything but they are well written and I would recommend the movies for someone's first exposure to the series, it worked for me.

So what about those Kelvin timeline films?

Shortly after checking out those original movies, I went on to watch the Kelvin timeline movies as at the time into Darkness was on it's way out in 2013, so I thought I may as well check out the 2009 one. Here's the thing I don't think these movies are bad, in fact I find them rather enjoyable, not so much with into Darkness, but the other two are pretty good summer action movies. The characters are, again quite likable, being a reboot of the original series they captured elements of the original characters well, while putting a little twist on them. Captain Kirk was known for being a ladies man in the OG series so now we get to see him actually have THE sex I've heard so much about on the big screen, when I first saw this my eyes bugged out of my head in a cartoon like style, that's for sure.

Into darkness unfortunately has the issue with remaking an all time classic so it was going to suffer as a result, I don't think Cumberbatch captured the more spite filled performance of Ricardo Montalbán's take on the character of Khan and it reeked of "You know this right? Remember this?" That being said the other two films I do enjoy, they are more action packed than your average Star Trek and are filled with Lens flare for some reason, but I would check them out if I were you, they're enjoyable romps, but if you don't like them you didn't hear it from me.

The Next Generation is as good as your mother says it is.

When I said the Kelvin Timeline movies were my next introduction to the series, I meant it. I didn't touch a Star Trek series at all until the year of 2016, after I had saw Beyond in cinema. I felt like it was time to check it out, if I enjoyed the movies, surely, I could enjoy the series that they spawned from, right? Well to say that the Next Generation is a good series would be understatement of the century. The next generation really is something special, its characters are fantastic, the episodes tell some of the best stories you will ever see on the silver screen and it has some of the best writing I have had the pleasure of seeing.

The characters are so diverse and are more interesting than the OG series, which I already enjoyed from the movies. Captain Jean-Luc Picard (played excellently by Patrick Stewart) is the best captain in the series, not only do most the best episodes revolve around him, but it's his ideals that make him one of the more interesting characters in the series. Picard tends to follow orders from Star Fleet and for the most part even if it may seem like a bad thing to do at the time, Picard will follow orders, quite unlike a Kirk, that broke the rules all the time. It's this element of Picard that makes him really fascinating to watch, a by the books captain was the best way to go for a series like this, most the time Picard will not resort to violence and will choose to talk his way out of a situation instead. He's stern but also fair and seeing his interests in the performing arts and literature just adds more to this already interesting character.

The rest of the supporting cast are great too. Data, an android with no emotions but wishes to understand them is another great character rivalling Picard in popularity, watching him be put in situation that revolve around his lack of emotions and if he counts as a lifeform makes for some of the best stories in the next generation. First officer Riker, is also another great character to watch, he's everything you want from a first officer, he's more fair than Picard most the time but he can be quite stern too when he needs to be and a lot of great episodes revolve around what he decides to do when Picard isn't there to give him orders. The final character in this series I want to touch on is Worf, the security officer who is also a Klingon who was raised by humans. This added an element of an outsider on the crew to the series, there are many episodes where he has to deal with his culture as a Klingon vs his place on Star Fleet, this really was progressive writing for the time it came out.

I will go over some of the episodes in the show that really show off how fantastic this series really is.

The Measure of a Man (season 2): One of the, if not the most famous episode of the show. Data's identity as a lifeform comes into question when a scientist wants to take him apart. A hearing is ordered, with Picard defending that Data is indeed a lifeform. This is the episode that won me over on the series and showed me that The Next Generation was truly something special.

Yesterday's Enterprise (season 3): A fantastic episode, where the Enterprise gets caught in a different timeline where they are at constant war with the Klingons. Shows that Star Trek could tell these alternate reality stories extremely well.

The Best of Both Worlds and Family (season 3 and 4): The Borg show off how deadly they are by taking Picard and turning him into one. One of the greatest cliff-hangers is the history of television, please watch this. Family shows the aftermath of the situation and shows an emotionally weakened Picard.

Clues (season 4): A fun episode where the crew of the Enterprise wake up after blacking out for what they think is a small period but actually turns out to be longer than expected, this turns into a mystery to find out what's going on as one of the crew might be holding back some information from the others.

The Drumhead (season 4): One of the best episodes in the series for how it, for lack of a better term tackles racism. Picard has to defend a member of his crew who is Romulan, which is an enemy of the Federation. "Have we become so… fearful, have we become so cowardly… that we must extinguish a man? Because he carries the blood of a current enemy?"

I Borg (season 5): A Borg is taken aboard the enterprise with the intention of infecting the rest of the collective, but the longer the Borg stays on the enterprise, the more of its humanity it gets back. Picard has to decide whether it's right to kill this Borg or if it has the right to live like everyone else.

The Inner Light (season 5): Picard lives out an entire lifetime of someone he does not recognise, he grows close to the family of the person he is living out the life of and it becomes a rather emotional and sad tale. Don't miss this one.

Chain of Command (season 6): Patrick Stewart shows off some of his best acting, when he is taken away and tortured. This shows the psychological torture Picard has to endure and the final few minutes of the episodes are as chilling as they are brilliant.

Tapestry (season 6): Picard has a chance to redo his life after his artificial heart gives out and Q offers him to go back in time so that he never needed an artificial heart at all. Great episode that shows us not to regret our actions but instead learn from them and better ourselves.

All Good Things… (season 7): A fantastic finale that brings the series full circle with the very first episode in the series, where we get to see 3 different versions of these characters from different time periods. Excellent finale.

To wrap up what I have to say on The Next Generation, it really is a fantastic series and they don't make them like this anymore. Sci-Fi has lost a lot of the intelligent writing that went along with it, nowadays the genre needs to have action and explosions in it to appeal to a mainstream audience. No one wants to see an episode that questions what we consider a lifeform or an intelligent discussion on if we should follow orders all the time even if it's not always the right thing to do. Why watch that when we can see starships blowing up. Hahaha, I love space pew pew pew shoot the lasers KA-BOOM HAHA IS THIS SCI-FI YET? IS THIS THE GENRE YOU ALL LOVE SO MUCH? IS THIS SCI-FI YET?

Originally written by Mr_Turnabout on 20 February 2020 over on the old Dreary Middle website

This was the only article we ever published so we thought it would be nice to preserve it as a reminder of what once was, so enjoy!

#star trek #the next generation #tng #jean luc picard #jim kirk #Youtube

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lovee-infected · 4 years

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Hello! Recently I've seen a lot of twst blogs arguing on how twst characters are mischaracterized, especially Malleus. So do you have any ideas on how he is mischaracterized? Also, is it okay to ask for your general opinion on questions like a short character analysis or how a healthy a relationship with each twdt guy might be? Hope it's okay to ask!

For your first question anon, it's a GREAT thing to ask and to be honest I've been waiting for a chance to talk about him! And for your second one, yes, of course! I just love writing character analyis and it's totally okay to ask for character/personality/relationship analysis here! I've got a lot to say about Malleus so this is going to a detailed analysis about his whole personality.

There are commonly two popular opinions on how Malleus is which divides the fandom into two groups:

Group A:

Those who consider him to be an absolutely soft, baby dragon who just wants to be invited and have a friend. They believe that Malleus needs more attention and can be quite affectionate at the time, he can also be sometimes idiotic toward simple stuff like working with a computer or trying to talk with others which makes him even more adorable. "Despite Malleus's harsh and emo appearance and terrifying powers, Malleus is just a small baby inside," is also a common belief of this group.

Group B:

Those who argue that group A is totally shading everything important about Malleus's personality and true self just because he looks cute and plays with a childish tamagotchi. These group also comes up with rather strong points about his personality such as his status as a crown prince, his naturally dark personality as not only a dark fae but also Maleficent's grandchild, his maturity and cold nature and also, the aspect of his hellish powers which can make him look like an absolute monster at the time.

I believe most of you are familiar with these points of view but the question is, which one of them is the real Malleus?

And the answer is: Neither of them; yet both of them do have a point.

The main problem is how the fandom portraits him as either an emotional tamagotchi baby or an absolutely cold and heartless mister of evil, while the true Malleus is far beyond than just being either good, or bad.

Now let's discuss some of the important facts and common mistakes about Malleus's personality:

(1) Malleus isn't a baby, but he isn't a monster either

This is supposedly the main idea here which will be continued to be discussed through the rest of this analysis. This is often how many end up mischaracterizing him because: the way the describe Malleus is either too dark or too childish. What we need here, is a balance. This is the grandson of one of the most important Disney villains that we are talking about, and don't forget that Maleficent herself was confirmed to consume the powers of Hell, as she was indeed the mistress of all evil. So this dragon boy here surely isn't one to underestimate, and he clearly has inherited that hellish power of her grandmother. It's obviously seen through the story as well, from the way he was presented in chapter 2 and beans day event to how terrified other students always are to even talk about him.

But the thing is, there are softer aspects of his personality as well which prove that Malleus isn't just designed to present an undefeatable force of evil, and this is exactly what makes his personality a lot more interesting.

(2) Malleus is actually hard to approach and talk to

Let's be honest, Malleus isn't as soft and easy to befriend as many fans consider him to be. He doesn't get too friendly or chill as he speaks, and even his close allies like Silver and Sebek fail to get close to him as much as they wish to. When we talk about his dark aura, we aren't just talking about his horns and fearsome magic, it's also because of his personality itself. His calm yet cold tone always remains still regardless of who he's talking to. No need to mention that he isn't an ordinary student either, he not only comes from a well-known family but is also the crown-prince of valley of thorns. Out of all twst characters Malleus is the only one who is directly connected to the great seven by being Maleficent's grandson. His family and people on the other hand are overly protective over him, to the point of not letting him to even have a fake proposal in the ghost marriage event which means that Malleus has also got each and every of his actions under watch.

(3) He's slowly getting used to isolating himself

In his ceremonial robes story, he's obviously upset that he never had a chance to wear his ceremonial robes because he never got invited, but when Lilia says he'd one day overcome his ill fate and gets to wear them as he always wanted to, he says that he's fine. Then again when Lilia tried to bring him to the singing test in chapter 5 he avoids showing up. In his voice lines he also said: "Are you as well scared of me?" which is clearly shouting that he's no longer surprised to see people being afraid of him, he's getting used to being feared and at some point, hated. That's probably one of the bitter sides of his personality which he's slowly giving up on trying to change it.

(4) Malleus has got a great confidence and isn't shy at all

There many fanfics in which Malleus is presented as a shy boy who's scared of confessing to his s/o or asking them out, while he's the total opposite in reality. Just like Maleficent herself, he speaks calmly and in a formal tone, is very respectful as he speaks, and isn't one to ever have problem while talking to others.

It's others who always avoid talking to him while Malleus himself isn't the least uncomfortable with presenting his ideas and asking others for help when he needs to.

He isn't ever shy over his lack of ability to work with machines or asking others for help for seemingly childish issues like having his tamagotchi fixed or finding a friend for the GaoGao dragon.

The only thing left is how Lilia described him as "Kind of shy" in chapter five, which is most likely because of another reason discussed in part (3)

(5) He doesn't eat ice cream and play with a tamagotchi for no reason

Malleus explained that everything is ran by magic back in the valley of thorns and no one really uses any machines there, that's how he's pretty new to both technology and complicated tools.

I believe that the tamagotchi part was given to him on purpose, because else than showing the fact that he's bad with tools, it's great contrast to the harsh picture that his power and personality gives him!

Admit it, it's a funny and somehow, adorable contrast to see one of the strongest magicians who can burn the room to ashes in just a matter pf second playing with a children's toy. And I believe that it was given to him on purpose. They meant to give him some soft and cute features as well instead of just presenting him as an evil fae. He is indeed evil and his powers are terrifying, and that's how watching him play with a tamagotchi is rather surprising to many. If you saw Ortho or Cheka playing with one it wouldn't have gone any further than a simple "Awww" or "How cute" because it's something you'd expect to see from a kid, but when you see Malleus of all people playing with it, you can't help but to fascinated and flustered over how cute this fae's habits can be.

Ice cream on the other hand doesn't really have to do with cuteness, it's something Yana Toboso discovered while doing her researches on fae mythology which discuses that Dark faes enjoy cold and sweet foods, especially cream. So it doesn't really have anything to do with him being either a soft or a cruel boy, it's just a normal part of his nature as a fae.

(6) He might be crazily old to humans, but he's still pretty young as a fae

This one has really been getting on my nerves, come on people! It's true that he's probably been living for decades and possibly, centuries but don't forget that it isn't that much compared to a normal fae! Even Sebek calls him 'Young master' which means that he's still a pretty young one, no need to mention that he hasn't yet became the king either so he's not much different from the rest of the students in NRC.

I've seen people saying: "No Malleus won't do that he's -too old-" and I've got to say: What?

Come on even someone like Lilia who's been living for over 5 centuries can act like a nasty 14 year old at the time, so for faes at least, age isn't a limitation.

Malleus on the other hand is still a teenage fae! He needs to discover new things and talk with more people, just like a normal human being does. So if he doesn't enjoy doing anything too silly or stupid, it's because of his 'personality', not because he's too old. Even when tells Lilia that he isn't a child anymore, it's like how an 18 year old says it to his father.

(7) Malleus won't take insult easily

He is polite and respectful in general, but when he's offended, he'd seriously respond to it. Remember that a single swipe of hand from him can set the whole room on fire.

Rook and Leona were probably one step away from being burnt and when Leona really got on Malleus's nerves by humiliating him, Malleus stopped respecting him as a prince of an ally kingdom and humiliated back.

He is calm but to a specific point, and you can make sure that he won't be any soft or forgiving if you offend him, and it'll probably end in no good if he gets mad. So better not think that Malleus is one to just keep it in and later cry in a room because he's sad baby when someone dares insult him.

(8) Angelina Jolie's Maleficent has nothing to do with his story!

Nope, Malleus never had a lover who cut off his wings and sent him to a hell of depression and loneliness, and no you cannot find those two wounds on his back regardless of how romantic it may seem.

I admit it, it's a lovely Au, but it's JUST AN AU! I can still see people saying stuff like "Ohh!! Will we discover if Malleus too had his wings cut off in chapter 7?" and the answer is NO. While Angelina Jolie's Maleficent is surely a great one on its own, it needs be understood that twst's source of main information and characters designs is nothing else than the original Disney villains.

Malleus cannot be associated with any Maleficents else than the version we saw in 1959's sleeping beauty and it's an important fact to look through.

(9) Malleus is NOT Maleficent!

While they are a lot more similar than you can imagine(in both power and personality), let's not forget that Malleus is NOT Maleficent! He's a total new character on his own, and is unique in his own way.

He is twisted from Maleficent which means that no matter how similar they are, Malleus is a new character with a new personality.

Saying that he isn't soft at all and the fandom will see his true face when he overblots ( It's supposed to mean that the real Malleus is an absolutely evil and destructive one, just like Maleficent) is nothing different from denying all of Yana's hard work on designing him and his personality!

Malleus himself said that his grandmother's skills were far greater than his and most importantly: Malleus still has chance to have a better fate than Maleficent did.

Once again: He's still young! He still has a chance to be saved from turning into a heartless and isolated creature like Maleficent. No matter how cold he is, he hasn't yet got to the point of hating the whole world and losing all of his emotions. And that's why it's totally wrong to deny all the good that he might still have inside by saying that he isn't soft at all. He isn't a baby, but he isn't a monster either. Not yet.

(10) Even Lilia agrees that Malleus is still learning and his personality is in development

Can't you see? Malleus isn't attending to this school for no reason. His magic is already top notch, and his knowledge goes far greater than anything they might teach in NRC.

If you take a look at the story, you'll see signs of Lilia indirectly giving us signs of why Malleus still needed to attend to this school. In Malleus's SR robes' story, Lilia told him that he still has a lot to learn and knowledge isn't everything. And what might he find in NRC which has nothing to do with knowledge? People.

Lilia is trying to hold him back from isolating himself like Maleficent did, and is indeed trying to help him make friends and learn to get along with people without thinking that it's useless because they'd fear him anyway.

Also, he clearly wants Malleus to learn and experience new things in NRC by taking part in activities. In Malleus's Halloween SR story Lilia, who was always the one to choose Diasomnia's Halloween costumes, asks Malleus to choose this year's costume instead of him. Lilia first says that he wants Malleus to do it but later tells him that he has other reasons as well, he was trying to put Malleus into trying something new therefore he can have something learn from the experiment! (What a cute papa he really is...)

This is another proof of him not having the cold and unapproachable picture some imagine him to have, he isn't against experiencing and trying new things.

(11) He's still looking for a true friend

Malleus needs a friend, that's a fact. During his chats he mentions how Maleficent always had her loyal pet crow by her side as the only reliable creature she could always trust, and how Malleus wonders if he can ever find such a worthy ally of his own.

Even as he has Lilia, Silver and Sebek by his side he doesn't feel like he has such a friend.

People have been avoiding him through his whole life, and you can see how excited he got when Cater asked him for a selfie as he was one of the very first people who ever tried to approach him.

While he's slowly getting used to being feared by everyone, he'd still appreciate a friend and he needs one. Not even Maleficent herself could've made it all on her own without a friend by her side.

(12) Malleus isn't heartless

While he won't easily fall for anything or anyone, it isn't impossible for him to love.

We haven't yet seen anything that directly gets us to the point of love in the story but it's something you can tell through his actions and words.

When he cares for something or someone, he'd be serious about it.

Two obvious examples would be his tamagotchi and the ramshackle dorm. He'd certainly get out of his way to find someone to fix his dear tamagotchi and as we saw in the Halloween event, he furiously stated that he'd burn anyone who tries to the ramshackle dorm any harm, because he likes that place.

There isn't much he holds dear in life, but when he does, he won't let a single soul to take it away from him.

When he can be this protective over something that just entertains him, just try to imagine how far he might go to protect the one he loves. He falls in love very slowly and it'll probably take him a while to realize it if he actually does. He can begin with small interests and repeated meetings but at some point, it'll turn into a routine, an obsession. He won't easily fall in love, but when he does, he won't be able to easily let go of it either.

(13) His relationship with MC is far more important than you're thinking

Just by going through his voice lines, you can tell how MC is effecting Malleus's personality and life. I'm not saying that it's love or anything but the thing is, MC is changing Malleus nonetheless.

Their relationship has been a totally new thing for Malleus to experience from the very beginning, because MC didn't know him. Malleus is obviously used to being well-known as the infamous prince of the Draconia family by almost everyone, but MC was an exception.

He asked MC to talk to him and tell him stories, it can be clearly see that he enjoys talking to them.

He also mentioned that MC has made him feeling lots of things he hadn't felt before, which can also be connected to part (10) where we discussed how he's still young and needs more of communication and friends because he needs to learn.

Some argue that Malleus couldn't care less about MC and the only reason he shows up around them is because of the ramshackle dorm, which can be easily proven wrong by two hints:

1) Malleus sent a Happy holiday card to MC after the winter holiday.

2)What Malleus told Lilia at the end of the Halloween event stories after all the troubles that was brought upon the ramshackle dorm: "I want that human to enjoy Halloween too"

While it isn't necessarily romance that we're talking about, his relationship with MC is clearly telling us that he's a lot more of emotions and humanity inside him than what we were expecting.

At this point, it's important to see that in spite of his cold nature and mature personality he is slowly beginning to feel more and more emotions as the result of meeting newer people in NRC, especially MC. Saying that he is nothing but a heartless fae who is wrongly thought to be a soft and emotional boy is nothing different from judging him the same way as most of the people in twisted wonderland itself judge Malleus, it's important to see that he's a lot more.

His personality itself is surely amazing and as a Malleus hoe stan myself I can't wait to get more of his background in chapter 7, although it's probably going to be dark as well. They really did give his design a twist and that's how he's a balance of and menacingly powerful magician and a young boy who's just learning to deal with emotions.

For now, that's all I had in mind! Hope that I didn't miss anything. This was a general character analysis which also discussed some of the common mistakes about Malleus's personality but-

In case that you're wondering how he's being mischaracterized in reader insert fics, that'll be a totally different issue to discuss which would also need another post to be discussed through.

Small note: Just saying that there's often a dark lore to twst x reader fics (Especially for Malleus/ Leona x reader) which is usually better to be ignored while reading/writing for them...

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #Twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #Character analysis #answered

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moansharry · 2 years

Text

17 year old sami vs 25 year old sami

17 years old

Have you ever: 1. Skipped class? ehhhh kinda it was a studyhall 2. Done drugs? define drugs lol 3. Self harmed? no 4. Drank? ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyeah not much tho 5. Shoplifted? no 6. Gotten a tattoo? no 7. Broken up with someone? no What’s your favorite: 8. Show? ohouse hunters or catfish or OITNB 9. Movie? the titanic probss10. Song? fake you out by twenty one pilots 11. Tumblr? tbh probably dennys 12. Singer/Band? arctic monkeys 13. Memory? watching sunsets 14. Book? WOW probs inbetween

This or that: 15. Invisibility or Ability to fly? ability to fly 16. Cookies or Cake? cake 17. Twitter or Facebook? twitter 18. Movies or Books? movies 19. Coke or Sprite? sprite bc it is so good w/ juices 20. Blind or Deaf? deaf.. i love seeing the world’s beauty 21. Tea or Coffee? tea

What’s your: 22. Age? 17 23. Sign? gemini 24. Height? 5’1’ 25. Sexual orientation? straight 26. Shoe size? 7 27. Religion? “ucc” i dont really go to church 28. Longest relationship? the one im in now, were almost at 2 months

Opinion on: 29. Gay rights? im all for gay rights, people shouldn’t be treated differently because of their sexual orientation (or race or gender for that matter) 30. Second chances? eehhhh yeah 31. Long distance relationships? hard 32. Abortion? pro choice its their body let them do what they wish 33. The death penalty? nah they need to thin k about what theyve done for the rest of their lives 34. Marijuana? legalize it 35. Love? idk i feel like everyone takes love in different levels of seriousness. i tell all my friends i love them and i mean it. everyone has a different definition of love

Do you: 36. Believe in ghosts? yeah kinda 37. Shower facing the shower head or turned away from it? i rotate 38. Sleep with the door opened or closed? a lil crack 39. Love someone? my friends and my family 40. Still watch cartoons? nah 41. Have a boyfriend/girlfriend? yeah :) 42. Like yourself? shrek yeah i do

25 years old:

Have you ever: 1. Skipped class? yeah 2. Done drugs? not incriminating myself 3. Self harmed? yes 4. Drank? yes 5. Shoplifted? no 6. Gotten a tattoo? yes 7. Broken up with someone? yes What’s your favorite: 8. Show? stranger things or euphoria. if im having a panic attack, iCarly lol 9. Movie? the conjuring

10. Song? this is an impossible question however i would say late night talking by harry styles 11. Tumblr? myself 12. Singer/Band? harry styles (some things never change), the strokes, saint motel, glass animals 13. Memory? uh tbh i dont have a fav memory but i guess like being at the beach is fun 14. Book? bro who tf reads books? i read where the crawdads sing like 3 or 4 years ago and that was good but now i have grad school textbooks so

This or that: 15. Invisibility or Ability to fly? ability to fly 16. Cookies or Cake? cake 17. Twitter or Facebook? twitter 18. Movies or Books? movies 19. Coke or Sprite? sprite 20. Blind or Deaf? deaf.. i love seeing the world’s beauty 21. Tea or Coffee? tea

What’s your: 22. Age? 25 23. Sign? gemini 24. Height? 5’1’ 25. Sexual orientation? bi curious 26. Shoe size? 7 27. Religion? none 28. Longest relationship? my current one, 1 year 9 months so far

Opinion on: 29. Gay rights? yeah duh 30. Second chances? yeah im a sucker 31. Long distance relationships? hard, its a no from me 32. Abortion? pro choice 33. The death penalty? yea and no. depends on the severity and evidence 34. Marijuana? legalize it 35. Love? yeah. but i believe you can love more than one person (romantically) in your life

Do you: 36. Believe in ghosts? yeah kinda 37. Shower facing the shower head or turned away from it? turned away 38. Sleep with the door opened or closed? open 39. Love someone? many ppl 40. Still watch cartoons? yeah 41. Have a boyfriend/girlfriend? yeah 42. Like yourself? lmao sometimes yes and sometimes no. i have some bad imposter syndrome

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years

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Three question:

1. Favourite role that you have played in the past?

2. A role that you'd like to play if you were ever to act again?

3. Who was the first character you saw yourself in?

1. When I was acting, in school and right after, I didn't do many projects that I enjoyed. Which was a big part of why I switched my career focus- it seemed like, for every role that really interested me, there would be four that were just resume-filler. And there would have been; that's part of professional acting. Not necessarily a bad thing! Just not something I wanted to deal with for the rest of my life.

I worked a haunted house in 2015 that was great- very atmospheric and spooky rather than jumpscare-y, and in an actual 19th century mansion (rumored to actually be haunted). I played a child ghost who died in a fire, and hauled my most ruined antique doll around all night. Besides the drunk college boys who had to be thrown out by security, it was a really fun gig.

2. I did a scene from A Midsummer Night's Dream for a class in college and played Titania; that would be interesting to come back to if I ever got the chance. Or maybe Eleanor in the stage version of The Haunting of Hill House (original novel).

3. Probably Emily from Corpse Bride. In good ways and bad- by then I was beginning to develop enough self-awareness to recognize personal faults. Whether 29-year-old Marzi is as much like her as 14-year-old Marzi was, I've never really sat down and considered.

#ask #dm me your weltanschauung #ask meme #ask game #three questions asks

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joyfulsongbird · 3 years

Text

broken not shattered

in the year following Vecna's defeat, Percy starts to notice that Cassandra is displaying the same attributes that he had in himself in his darkest time. Percy helps pull her through her anger and darkness, knowing what it is like, and makes sure she doesn't spiral the same way he did.

the cassandra-centric self indulgent fic i was born to write <3

ao3 link!! (content warnings listed in the notes)

***

You learn things, when you get to a place where your mind is no longer your own, let alone your body. You learn how to survive, when there is nothing you can do but save yourself.

You learn more than how to hold a blade, more important skills than how to dress yourself in armor, or tie your hair back by yourself because mother was still doing it for you when she died. Vesper always said it was ridiculous how much her little sister depended on their mother. “I was braiding my own hair before I even got to the double digits!” she’d say indignantly, but Cassandra never listened. She refused to learn. Being the youngest didn’t mean as much as many think. She was not doted upon as much as the twins were, she was the smallest, the least interesting, and being left in the dust made her starve for attention. No one could blame her, she was a child. A child who would not regret the minutes in the early morning when Lady de Rolo would braid her youngest daughter's hair into a neat plait. She did not regret the fuss she had made, not when it gave her just a few more minutes with her mother. So she taught herself how to braid her hair.

When she got older, maybe 15 or so, she was braiding her hair every morning. She’d spent two years with the Briarwoods, growing more and more numb every day. She had doomed one rebellion already, and she did not know that she would doom another yet. There was very little she could do that would make any sort of lasting impression, besides string herself up on the Sun Tree in the same place they had hung her family's corpses. Despite herself, she could not bring herself to. There was still a self preservative spirit inside her that she could not quell. The only rebellions she got at that time were silent, not even rebellions. Lady Delilah did not know that the way she wore her hair was in honor of her mother. Honoring her deceased family was strictly forbidden and Cassandra was quite sure the De Rolo name had not been uttered in the Briarwoods presence, maybe at all, in well over a year. She still did it. She wore the stockings gifted to her by her father even though they had been meant for 12 year old feet and had been darned and patched many times over. She wore her mothers braid; and when her fingers wound her hair tightly into the simple braid, she could feel the ghost of her mothers hands in their place.

She honored the De Rolos. Her mind was broken, her body did not belong to her anymore. But she honored them by existing. In the mirror she looked into the eyes of the dead. That’s the thing about big families, they all look at least a tad bit similar. You could look up at the portrait that used to sit in the grand hall. The dark hair, the strong jaw, the striking eyes, even the freckles. On some they showed more than others, but they were there. She remembered how in the summer, when they vacationed South where the sun was so much brighter and stronger, they’d come back sunburned and freckled. She’d laugh at Percy, who hated how his skin got so dotted and peeling from lying in the sun. Cassandra rarely wandered outside the castle walls, her freckles were non-existent. Still, she was comforted by the fact that if she did wander the gardens more often, her nose would soon look just like her grandmothers. She, too, was long gone and Cass barely remembered her, but in the few memories she had, her freckles stood out.

Cassandra learned to brave the cold. Even when it meant giving up her honorances. Lord and Lady Briarwood were not dumb, they were quite the opposite. There was a reason they had made it this far, a reason they had managed to convince so many that the murder of her family was just an awful tragedy. Her socks were burned. Her mind picked apart until she confessed to every thought she had of her family, every death wish to those who hurt them, every inkling of rebellion. She learned to brave the cold even when it meant forsaking the ones she loved. They were not here to see her betrayal, the guilt persisted anyways. Her mind did not belong to her. She was never alone. She forgot what her family looked like. How was it possible, some might ask, that she forgot what they looked like when she saw them every time she looked in the mirror? Maybe it was that she did not recognize herself, either.

She was 13 when the Briarwoods came. She was 14 when she was tortured until she told Anna Ripley everything about the first rebellion. 15 when her mind started to wane. 16 when she wasn’t sure how to breathe anymore. How do you breathe when there is no air to consume inside of the castle? On the outside, she was perfect. Perfect, lovely brown curls. Bright, alive, attentive eyes that shone like sapphires. She grew into a beautiful young lady. That’s what they all said. The little girl who had run through the halls and caused a riot grew into a lady who would fetch a fine husband someday.

The years passed slowly, the second rebellion came and passed. She didn’t even try to resist the questions when they came. They asked “where are they planning to meet?” She told them everything. “What is their plan?” She told them everything. She bore the scars from the last one, the white in her hair was proof enough, how could she even attempt to put herself through that ordeal again? She could not bring herself to pray, she didn’t even think to ask for any kind of holy assistance until late one night and pushed the idea away quickly. If a god wanted to help her, they would’ve already. It was too late for her, she had supposed long ago, no god could destroy her when there was nothing she felt was worth destroying.

She learned there was nothing she could do, but go along with the plans placed in front of her. She was their puppet. She was their little doll they played dress up with, they stole not just blood from but her soul itself. It was not a quick realization, that she was without hope or future. It came slowly, when she was maybe 17 it entered her mind, fully formed.

She was a Briarwood now.

The De Rolos were no more.

Years and years later, she will lie awake in the late hours of the night, wondering how much of that realization was mind control and how much of it was sheer, unadulterated mental exhaustion on her part. She was so tired. Tired of getting flashes of her brother's bloodied body every time she glanced at the doorway leading down to the dungeon. Tired of seeing her parents mangled corpses’ every time she met Dr. Ripley’s eye. Tired of sharp slaps when she let the wrong thing slip off her tongue. Tired, tired, tired. Better to leave it all behind. Better to let it fade away. She was a Briarwood. That was the reality.

She learned much, in those five years in that dark, bloody castle. How could she not? Every day was a lesson, every day was a test. Failing meant dying. She would not fail.

Maybe if Percy had come any later than not too long after that realization, she would have been too far gone to be saved. He came months later, but what were months when she had spent years in the dark? He had failed to pull her from the snow once, this time he dragged her from the cold and she was almost warm again.

It was strange to have been stuck in the dark recesses of the castle, something more than lonely, something more than lost, and then to suddenly be shoved into the light. Be faced with a brightness that hurt her eyes and left her feeling blinded and stumbling for something to grab hold of. But she was strong, and she was resilient, and she was her mothers daughter. She would not succumb to this darkness inside of her, this persistent voice that sounded like some odd mix of her own and the whispered, sultry tone of Delilah Briarwood. It crooned, it cried, it begged for a bone to be thrown its way. If she paid it no mind, it would slowly wither and die. She held her head high, lifted her chin even when she faced her captors, refused to cry when the nightmares came after years of silent nights. There was nothing she could do about the pain that continued to rack through her body now that she was coming to.

She was essentially a child leader. She saw the looks from other council members, the sideways glances of even her own citizens. She was barely grown. It showed in her face. She’d always had full cheeks, but as a child that was normal. Now, when she’d gotten older and lost her baby fat, she’d held the youth of her face. She looked like a child, felt like a child especially when she was surrounded by so many politicians with years of experience, but she refused to let her intimidation show. She was firm, strong in a way that brought others comfort. Whitestone was in her hands and her knees were shaking under its weight. But she had yet to crumple, even through all of her pain, and this weight would not break her. She gained respect every day that passed by and when Percy returned for good, she had grown from a step below a child queen to a ruler who knew how to hold her shoulders just so, how to shake a hand the correct way, how to smile while appearing confident but not overbearing. She learned many things, after the Briarwoods.

You learn things, when you are trapped and have been trapped for a long, long time. You learn or you break. Cassandra was lost, and lonely, and yes, quite a bit broken, but Pelor help her, she refused to shatter.

He surprised her with a hug, when he arrived. She had been resting in her room after the ordeal with Vecna and being… well, you know, killed . She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little shook but surprisingly, she was very calm. Her body was tired but her mind was alert. The only reason she was in bed at all was because her maid, Margie, had taken one look at Cassandra upon her return and said she looked like absolute hell and needed to be taken care of at once. Cass relented and let herself be bathed and fed and dressed in her night clothes despite the early hour. She sat upright in her bed, flipping absently through some book about the history of taxation in Tal’dorei which had been recommended to her by a council member. It was incredibly boring and her eyes only took in every other word or so. It was a welcome intrusion, then, when there was a knock on the door and she could gratefully dogear the page.

“Come in!” she called, grabbing her blankets in preparation to cover herself if need be. But when her brother cracked the door open, she let the blanket fall and stood immediately. She hovered there for a moment, halfway between sitting and standing, as she stared at her brother. He looked more shaken than her, dirt caked and bone tired. He looked wrecked and like he had just arrived back home moments ago.

Nobody spoke for a moment. Then he made several long strides (he was quite tall, with long gangly legs that she remembered Julius had teased him about) to meet her at the edge of her bed. He did not speak, barely met her eye before tugging her into a messy but not unwelcome hug. A little shocked, for Percival was not one to veer on the side of physical affection, it took her a moment to reciprocate. But when she finally came to her senses, she wrapped her arms around his neck, placed a comforting hand on the back of his neck and felt him shaking just a little under her palm.

It did not last long, even when he was in a particularly touchy feely mood, it didn’t seem like it stayed around for very long. He pulled back, looking at her with eyes that mirrored hers to the point where it was uncanny. How she’d forgotten how similar the De Rolo children were. Beautiful children, all lined up prim and proper. Each ball they went to, they were praised. The seven of them were the bright stars of Whitestone, though some were brighter than others. Now, just two remaining, she found herself looking into his eyes and seeing herself reflected back. Pained. Afraid. Lonely, but learning to love again.

“I…” he licked his lips. “I’m glad you’re alright, sister.”

She nodded. “And I you.”

He let go of her shoulders which he had been holding tightly. “I have to go to Vex. I’ll be back to discuss. Have a well needed talk. Maybe over tea. I swear.”

She smiled and voiced her assent. Of course, they would. Of course, they needed to catch up. Wonderful idea, Percival. Looking forward to it, Percival.

The next day came. She saw him over breakfast and she put on her practiced smile for her overwhelmed brother and a grieving Vex’ahlia. She was good at this; putting on a facade, knowing what people wanted to see and adjusting based on their reactions. It was easy. She had done it for years, shoved down her fears so that she wouldn’t be questioned, disguised her thoughts and covered her emotions in layers of small talk and politeness.

They did not have that discussion over tea that day. Nor the next. Nor the next week.

They talked, of course they talked. But it was always in surface level ways. She knew that he wanted to see deeper, to look at her and be able to understand her. But she didn’t even understand herself. Days, then weeks passed and she was spending more and more time absorbed by her work. This was what she had to do. Spent hours in her office, locked away until she barely saw the sun anymore. Give her a project, she got it done in a day. Give her something to do, she finished it in record time. For the first time, she was good at something that didn’t hurt anybody.

The bliss of finally being of use lasted maybe two months into the year after the defeat of Vecna. Percy and Vex were busy as usual, but now more than ever because of the baby. Their child wasn’t due for many months but the couple was determined to get everything done as soon as possible, to prepare and plan every instance. The nursery was ready and waiting for the child not long after Vex began to show. Cass was one of the first to know, as the only other family member who lived with them. She was happy for them, she really was, but there was a twinge in her heart when they came to her with grins on their faces and brightness in their eyes. This child would continue the line of the De Rolos, this child would honor them. For years, Cassandra had lived out of the belief that she was the last of her kind. That she was the last of her family and therefore needed to survive. She was not the last. The line would continue without her.

The bliss of being constantly busy ended over breakfast. Vex was rambling about the gift that Pike had sent over, some baby rattle that Cassandra had yet to see, and Percival was nodding along, listening intently. Her brother’s wife was still obviously in mourning, there were bags under her eyes and more often than not, Cassandra saw her looking in the mirror and cringing away. She empathized; there is nothing more difficult than being unable to look at yourself without remembering all that you have lost. But she had Percival, and she had all of her family, that was enough to keep her going. She still smiled and laughed daily, that consoled them all.

The door to the dining hall opened with a creak, the three of them looked up from their food. Vex’s words were cut off immediately as a guard entered the room and left the door ajar before opening his mouth to speak.

“We've captured somebody on the outskirts of the forest, a man who we suspect assisted the Briarwoods in the coup against the De Rolos.” Cassandra's eyes immediately found Percival’s, they were wide and blue and determined. She and him stood at the same time, pushing their chairs back and starting towards the guard. Cassandra glanced over her shoulder and saw Vex, standing as well and grabbing Percy’s hand. He gave her a glance, pressed a kiss to their entwined fingers as they walked to meet Cassandra at the door. He did not reach for Cassandra, he had that expression on his face, one that she only saw every once in a while when a memory resurfaced. She couldn’t do anything to make it go away, the memory would still exist. They would always exist.

They followed the guard down the hall, silence filling their chests. It was pressing, suffocating but Cass was good at miming the act of breathing. She kept her eyes forward, ignoring the memories that appeared in her peripheral vision. The 13 year old with dark hair curling behind an old set of armor and sobbing into her skirts. The maid tried to clean up the blood that was smeared on the floor with a mop. It had stained the carpet. She’s pretty sure the Briarwoods burned it. This castle was filled with ghosts and in her day to day, she was usually able to ignore them or avoid them entirely. But this short walk to the dungeons was the worst it had been in years. Hearing the name “Briarwood” out loud had made it so the halls had awakened again, the memories that had faded somewhat into the background reappearing with a fervor.

They walked through the castle, making their way to the stairs that lead to the dungeons. As they descended the stairs, she heard Percy let out a tiny, almost imperceptible shaky breath. Yes, this was where he had spent most of his time between the attack and his escape. She tried not to remember in detail what she had found when she’d come to break them free. She wanted to turn around and comfort him but Percy was often not one to openly accept comfort, maybe just from Vex. Maybe he’d accept some from her but not when they were in front of a guard. It would feel too intimate to him, and to Cassandra as well if she was being honest.

The guard led them to the small series of cells until they were standing in front of a small, shadowed cell. Whoever was inside was shrouded in darkness and none of them (except perhaps Vex'ahlia, with her elven blood) could make out the prisoner. The guard lit a torch and suddenly they were all flooded in golden light. Cassandra blinked at it, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the figure that was curled against the stone wall. He was stripped to his basic layers, ragged looking tunic and pants, bare socks riddled with holes. His hair was long, blonde, matted and unkempt. He looked like one of the poor civilians she used to see all over the place years ago, before Whitestone rose again. She almost let pity bloom in her chest before she remembered why he was in this cell. No pity would be born on this day.

Moments passed, and she was close to saying something to get his attention, before he lifted his head. His face appeared out of the shadows and was flooded with light.

And suddenly, she was a child again.

She was 8 years old and laughing because one of the guards was playing with her, holding her doll high above her head and she was jumping to try and get it back. He was tall and smiled at her.

You see, the De Rolos were a powerful family, yes, but they were a family nonetheless. They valued every member of their staff, they were as close as family with many of them. And most of them loved the family right back. Cassandra had a few vague memories of being held on a maid’s hip and walked around the castle, her thumb in her mouth. Of playing tag with the cook’s children. And of this. Of a relatively young guard teasing her.

There was more. As there always was.

She was 11 and the guard was still around. He worked for them for as long as she could remember. He helped her with her studies when she became frustrated. He pointed out her mistakes and worked through them with her. He was kind to the spaz of a girl that she was.

He gave her candy. Snuck them from the kitchens and slipped them to her when no one was looking.

She was 13. She was crying. Screaming. Begging for her father. And he was… looking at her. The man who had been kind to her since she was small. He was looking at her and she realized, probably for the first time, that there was nobody left to save her. His eyes were brown, and they were empty, and he stared at her for many moments. He opened his mouth, and for a second, for one beautiful second, Cassandra thought he was going to call for the people holding her down to let her go. Her friend. Almost a member of their family; he had been loyal to them for years . But when he spoke, it was nothing. He turned to Lord Briarwood and asked what his next order was. She could hear them clearly as anything.

“Dr. Ripley needs assistance. Go to the dungeons and see what she needs.” And he left without sparing her another glance.

He was there. For the first three of those five years, he was there. There were a few times, in the beginning, when she had tried to get him to help her. She learned quickly there was, and to her it seemed like there had never been, no affection for her or her family. He left, after a few years, and she can’t quite remember how, maybe from the snooping into Ripley’s journals she often did, or just from an overheard conversation, that he was the one who slaughtered Whitney. That he was the one who assisted Ripley in the torture of her siblings. She had no affection for him after that. The memories from her childhood tasted like bile, and to her chagrin, the faint flavor of lemon candies.

“Luther.”

She took a few steps forward, her hand coming to rest on one of the bars of the cage. She could look through them easier this way, see his face and every angle in it. Every line and wrinkle, every twist in his expression.

He tilted his head to the side, recognition flooding his eyes after a few moments of tense silence. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “Cassandra.”

She stood there, clenching her hands around the bars to keep them from visibly shaking. She had never experienced anything like the pounding in her mind, the undeniable flood of feeling that coursed through her entire body. She did not like it; didn’t like the way she no longer had control over her limbs. She knew that her voice would shake if she tried to speak at this moment, so she kept her lips pressed together and body stiff.

Percy stepped forward next to her. The last of the De Rolos, side by side.

Luther did smile now. “Ah- Percival. I barely recognize you. Though I heard a few stories about you… thought they were false, of course. Why would that boy I knew be traveling with- what was it- Vox Machina ?”

His tone felt too casual, as if they were three acquaintances just getting caught up on each other's lives after years of separation. Percy was frowning, his eyebrows furrowed. “I remember you. I remember what you did.”

Luther’s smile falters. “Yes. The Briarwoods were quite the villains, weren’t they?”

Percy shifted his weight from foot to foot. “‘Villains’? That’s quite a perspective change, sir.”

He shook his head. “They had control of me. They had control of us all. I wish I could’ve done more, but alas, I-”

“Liar .” Cassandra found her voice without meaning to. The word came out strangled and snarling, like a wild animal fighting against its captor.

His eyes turned to hers again, he blinked slowly, so docile, so calm. It only made her rage even more. “I remember you so well. I desperately wish I could’ve saved you.”

“You’re a liar.” she breathed, her voice coming out a whisper but it felt like a shout. She took a step back from the bars and turned to the guard. “Let him out, keep him in chains but lead him out with us. I want to see him up close.”

“Cass-” Percy’s voice came from behind her, she held up a hand to stop him. It was enough to silence him, and he did not speak or protest as the guards fiddled with his keys and opened the door to the cell. Luther was unchained from the wall, but the cuffs keeping his wrists behind him stayed on. Cassandra pointed to the ground in front of her silently, and he was led there, standing before her.

“On your knees.” she ordered, using the same tone she’d use in a meeting with politicians. Luther looked at all the while, he stumbled a little as he dropped to his knees in front of her. She stared at him. He was older now, many years had passed since she had last seen him, but so many that she couldn’t take his face now and warp it into the expressions of the man she knew back then. He had broken his nose since leaving Whitestone, and his hair was thinner than it had been.

“Do you remember,” she began, her voice unshaken now. “The day you buried Whitney?”

He shook his head. She clenched her fist.

“No?” he shook his head again. “Let me paint you a picture.”

She took a step forward until she was just a few inches away from him. In the last moment before speaking, she reached forward and took a fistful of his hair, yanking it back so that he was looking right up at her. She might be small but from this angle, he needed to crane his neck to look directly at her. She made sure he was staring into her blue, De Rolo eyes. She wanted to make him see them all, make him see the children who once ran through the halls, the leaders who ruled so peacefully; see the people he helped to slaughter.

“There’s a reason you don’t remember.” she said a little too sharply and a little too loudly, so that when the words came out it sounded a little unhinged in her anger. “You took her down from the tree, I’m sure you remember this. You took them all down from the tree, you can say more than I can what you did with the rest of them, but Whit, she was still in one piece. Remember? Remember how you killed her? And what did you do with that little girl’s body, long after she was gone? Bury her respectfully? Burn her and spread her ashes in the garden? I know how the Briarwoods worked, Luther, they don’t control you all the time. I watched you do it.”

He swallowed under her gaze, trying to turn his eyes away from her eyes but she ripped hard at his hair so that he winced and his eyes watered. But he looked at her again.

“What did you do?” she asked, not really asking. She was ordering again.

“I-I don’t remember.”

“I know you do. I broke a lot of rules to try to reach you, to try and get your attention outside the castle, but instead I watched you. What did you do?”

His eyes were watering more now but it was something else besides the pain making him do it. His whole body shook. “Cut her hair. Took her clothes. Sold it.”

None of the others had salvageable clothes or hair, Cassandra had realized back then. They had been covered in blood, ripped apart, unclean and unprofitable. But Whitney, she had been killed the most cleanly. Not the most mercifully, of course not, none of them were capable of mercy. But Whit still looked most like herself and that was dainty, pretty, clean. They took even that away from her. Cut off her long curls until she had shorter hair than father’s. Took her clothes so that she had no dignity, even in death. And then, only then, could her sister be taken back to where the rest of her deceased family was. It had stuck with Cassandra, for the rest of her life. The way the men had talked and even laughed as they did this to a child. She couldn’t hear a lot from her hiding spot but she could see their faces and that was enough. It was mind control. And she still didn’t know why they were so horrible. She had more nightmares about that memory than any other.

“Why did you do it?” She knew her voice sounded more hysterical than she would like it to but the image of her sister’s white corse floated over her vision. “Why? Why us?”

He did not answer for a long time. “Gold lined our pockets for what we did.”

“No.” she bit out. “Why did you hate us?”

He looked at her with dull eyes, his eyes were still half full with tears but his eyes held hers with no emotion in them. “No ruler is well loved by all. We did what we wanted, for the first time in years. The children were just in the crossfire… we got carried away.”

She leaned back, letting go of his hair. Carried away. Carried away .

She didn’t even try to stop herself. Her punch was filled with a power she didn’t know she had. She swung hard and hit him square in the jaw, the momentum carrying his body to the ground as he was unprepared for the hit. When she saw the blood on his cheek she realized that she had hit him with the hand that she wore her ring with the Whitestone crest on it. Poetic in an odd way. She did not regret the gash that she had left on his face. She hoped it scarred, hoped it would stay there forever.

There was a ringing silence as she shook out her fingers that buzzed with the impact.

“Give me a reason not to slit your throat.” she let her left hand rest on the blade that hung on her belt. “Because there has not been a word out of your mouth that has convinced me you are deserving of another minute of life.”

“I wasn’t in control-”

She wrapped her hand around the hilt of the sword.

“I could’ve killed you, I could’ve-”

Pulling the blade out, she watched the torch light glint off the blade. Metal is oddly beautiful, especially when the promise of vengeance sits on its tip.

“I’ll do anything, I’ve become a better man!”

Cassandra placed the tip of the blade on his throat. Over the past few years she had gotten to be far more skilled with a blade. Thanks to Vex’s tutelage and her own determination to defend herself against any sort of danger, by now she could join Vox Machina and hold her own. But this was not a test of skill by any means, he was directly in front of her, chained and shaking out of fear. It felt good that he was so afraid that tears started rolling down his cheeks, that she held power over him. It felt good to be powerful. Never in her life had she been this strong in the face of somebody she used to fear.

“Cassandra!” Percy’s voice was the only barrier between her and slicing this man’s body in two.

“Brother, shut up.” she bit out. She felt a hand on her shoulder and tried to shrug it off but he stayed firm.

“I know what you are feeling. I truly do. And if I were myself at any other time in my life, I would be right next to you. But I can’t let you do this, Cass.” His voice was the most sincere she had heard him in a long time. The softest he had ever been in her direction since they had defeated Vecna.

“Yes, you can.” she said, pressing the blade in a little harder so that a dot of blood appeared right between his collarbones. “You can step back and be silent for once.”

“He can’t and neither will I.” Cassandra let out a half sigh, half laugh, as Vex’s voice joined alongside Percy’s. “Darling, you need to give me the sword.”

“You can’t take this away from me.” she snapped. “Just let me have this one thing.”

In her peripheral, Percy was standing there, hand on her shoulder and face dead serious. But on her other side, she could see his younger, crumpled, bloodied body. The body she had seen and thought he was gone like the rest of them until she saw his rising and falling chest.

“I can’t.” he said softly.

“You can. You can . He let them destroy us, Percy. He killed Whitney. He helped Ripley. He’s one of them. Why do you get to kill them all and I get nothing? Let me have something for once in my life!” she let her voice rise, finally, shouting at him even though he was right by her. She wanted to scream. To cry. To beg for her family even though her only family was right here.

“I wish I could.” His voice was so eerily calm, so sad in a way that made her want to shove him away even harder. “I need you to put the sword down, Cass. Or I’ll have to do something I don’t want to.”

“I hate you.” she said, staring directly at Luther but not sure who exactly she was saying it at. She knew that she sounded like a petulant child who wasn’t getting what they wanted and was throwing a fit but her whole body trembled with need . She needed to destroy this physical manifestation of everything the Briarwoods did to her. She needed to hurt him in a way she couldn’t hurt them. Killing Delilah wasn’t enough to quell this need in her soul. She needed more.

“He deserves it.” she argued, her hand that held the word trembling.

“He does.” Percy agreed. “But I will not let you become what I was on the path to. I swear to all the gods, I know what you’re feeling intimately. Killing this man will not make things better. Give Vex the sword.”

She felt tears sliding down her cheeks. “I can still see them.”

“I know.”

A hand that wasn’t Percy’s gently pried her fingers off of the hilt of the sword. She let it happen.

“I’m so tired, Percy.”

“I know.”

And then the sword was out of her grip, and she let out a strangled sob as she shoved Luther hard in the chest. It sent him tumbling back to the ground, onto his back, his hands still behind his back. Leaving him completely vulnerable. But her hands were empty, and the world wasn’t fair, and she could barely see him through the wall of tears obscuring her vision.

She placed a knee on his sternum, leaning into it enough to hurt. Tears dripped off her chin and landed on his face. She wanted to kill almost more than she had ever wanted anything.

“This world will be brighter when you are gone.” She spoke impressively clearly considering all that she was feeling. “And I will be that much happier.”

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. She did not let him speak, when he opened his mouth to say something, she pressed harder onto his chest and shortened his breath. He simply let out a pained squeak and she let herself smirk in satisfaction. She straightened back up, adjusting her blouse before turning back to the guard that had led them to the dungeons in the first place. Her cheeks were still soaked with tears, she didn’t bother to wipe them away. They would dry eventually.

“I want him chained, hands and legs, and gagged until his trial date. Thank you.” the guard nodded his head in confirmation, his eyes just a little wide. No doubt in shock at the display from his ruler he had just witnessed. She knew that she should care that he had just seen her at her weakest but she couldn’t be bothered to. All she could do was watch as she made sure he was bound correctly back in his cage before turning on her heel and climbing the steps back up into the corridors. Her body felt hollow, each movement felt like a ghost inhabiting her body.

She made it maybe fifteen paces before Percy caught up to her, grabbing her upper arm and turning her to look at him. She didn’t speak first, her face spoke enough for her. For the first time, Percy really saw her. It was like he hadn’t truly looked at her in months. She looked wrecked, cheeks splotched and wet. But more than that. There were dark bags under her eyes, a hollowness in those eyes and she looked exactly as she had said. Tired. Just exhausted to a point where anyone else would be dead on their feet.

“It’s alright.” it was all he could think to say. What was he supposed to console her with? There was nothing good about the situation they had found themselves in. He tugged her into a messy, awkward hug. “It’s alright, Cassie.”

She buried her face into his chest, breathing in the scent of her brother. Black powder and the hint of Vex’s perfume and smoke. He was so much taller than her, all legs and arms. Her body didn’t fit quite right into his like it felt like it should. In all books, when people were family or close to family, they fit together like puzzle pieces. Their hugs felt just right. This didn’t feel perfect, it wasn’t “just” right but it was definitely right. There would be an indent on her face from pressing her face into a button on his vest but she was caring less and less about dignity. It had been so long since she’d properly hugged Percy and he hadn’t had to rush away for whatever reason. He held her for a long, long time. She got the impression that he had decided in his mind that he would not be the first to pull away.

Eventually, one of them had to and Cassandra pushed off him with a sigh. She saw Vex hovering a little ways away, trying to look like she wasn’t watching but glancing over every once in a while. Percy was looking at her fondly but with worry in his eyes. She reached up and brushed hair off of his forehead, distracted by the hair that had almost fallen into his eyes. He needed a haircut.

“I’ll be alright, Percival.” she murmured. “I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. You have to let me help you now. Let us help you.”

“My darkness is not your darkness.” she told him. “We are not the same.”

“I know,” he said earnestly. “But you’re my sister. And I will not be able to go on if I don’t help you now.”

She pursed her lips, looking away. “I know.”

“Cassandra?” She lifted her eyes back up to his. “I care about you. Very much.”

“And I you.” she said, the response she always said in response to intimate speeches.

“What he’s trying to say is that he loves you dearly.” Vex had walked up to them now, standing beside Percy and looking at Cassandra with a knowing look in her eye. “Right, Percy?”

Percy tucked his chin against his chest for a second, smiling. “Right. Love you, sister.”

She hadn’t heard that in a long time either. “I-I love you too.”

It almost felt wrong on her tongue. And she hated that it felt wrong. Hated that she was so unpracticed in love that she didn’t know the correct way to say it. That the cadence of her words was all wrong. That her tone wasn’t sincere enough.

“You look a mess, dear.” Vex was the first to speak after a bit of a silence, she wrapped an arm around Cassandra’s shoulders and started walking them down the hall. “Come. Let’s go for a walk, hm?”

So Cassandra let herself be led through the halls and into the gardens. With her sister-in-law on one arm and her brother on the other, she felt fully secure. Each step forward brought her closer to herself and though she was still shaking with anger, her hands itching for the hilt of the sword Vex had left behind, her mind scrambling to cope with all that happened in the last twenty minutes. She let herself be led around by her loved ones, Vex at one point pressing a kiss to her cheek and smiling before turning forwards again and continuing on with some story about Trinket. She did feel loved and was surprised to find that after months of being holed up in her office, it was nice to step out into the sun and breathe.

That night, when she lay in her bed wide awake, she wondered what exactly the darkness in her chest was. Percy had Orthax in him whispering desires of vengeance into his ear, urging him to do horrible things. But she had no monster inside her. She had no odd dreams and no voice in her ear telling to cut that man’s head off. She had wanted that, herself, her mind. It had been her own desires and need to quell that need inside her, not some outside force. Did that make her worse than him? She did not think herself a terrible person for having the desire to hurt those who had hurt her worse. But even Percy had let his revenge empty from his body when Orthax had left.

She pulled herself out of bed, walked barefoot down the hall, down all the steps until she reached the door that led into Percy’s workshop. At this time of night, it was a toss up on where he would be. Sometimes Vex was able to drag him to bed at a decent time but still, even with the pressure from her and Cassandra, more often than not Percy could be found bent over some contraption he was spending far too many hours perfecting. She knocked on the door and when she didn’t hear an answer, gently turned the doorknob and peaked inside.

He was there, so absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear her knock. She stepped inside, and it was only when she closed the door that he lifted his head and turned around. Confusion immediately knitted his eyebrows together. Seeing her in her nightgown, hair completely down and loose around her face, no shoes on her feet, was probably the oddest thing he had seen in awhile. Cassandra almost never let her appearances slip on purpose, and the few times she did were either accidental or something forced her to. Her skirts always had no wrinkles in them, her sleeves always buttoned, her hair made just so. But she had come to him, vulnerable and looking so very not-Cassandra.

“Cassandra.” he said, meeting her gaze. “What can I do for you?”

“Might I just sit and watch for a bit?” she asked.

He blinked, taken aback before rushing to answer. “Uh- yes. Yes, of course.”

He grabbed a stool and placed it next to his work table, patting it awkwardly. “Come sit.”

She did. Lifted herself up and watched him work on some clock-like machinery. She was fascinated by his work, even if she didn’t completely understand. Sitting here with the heat of the furnace close and only Percy’s soft humming, she felt more calm than she had in a while. Especially not after how emotionally taxing the day had been. She wanted to ask about what he was doing but didn’t want to break the silence, and anyways, she was too caught up in her own thoughts to be able to follow any complicated explanation at the moment.

“Percy?” she said after a long time of just silent working. He hummed in response, a confirmation that he had heard and was listening. “Did you still… want to hurt people, after Orthax? Want to kill those who forced us to lose everyone?”

His hands stopped moving and he let them rest on the table, completely still. He stayed that way for an uncomfortably long amount of time, letting the silence stretch and stretch until she felt it was going to snap. Instead of breaking it with a word, he let out a heavy sigh. Leaning his head back so that he could look up at the ceiling.

“It’s a good question.” He finally said. “The thing about Orthax, about the darkness, is that it didn’t create the want in my mind. He didn’t make me want to murder those people, Cass, I wanted to. I want to. He gave me the tools and then it was just a matter of me saying yes. In the state I was in… of course, I said yes.”

She nodded along, listening intently. “But after. What about after he was gone?” He tapped his fingers on the table, chewing on his bottom lip. “I think… I think by that point I had gone so far for my revenge, I had experienced it to the point where I was both satisfied and hungry. I knew I had done what I set out to do, but part of me still wanted more. I knew then, and it was only thanks to my friends that I was able to, that revenge was not what would fix me. As much as they deserve it. As much as I wanted to make them hurt for what they did. It was not what would bring me joy.”

He looked over at her then, her pale skin golden from the small lamps that were littered around the room and the fiery furnace. He considered her for a few moments, taking in his baby sister who he had had no idea how to approach all of these months. He had been so afraid that she would realize that she hated him for leaving her behind, that she had grown so far away from him that there was no closing that gap. He looked at her, and the white streaks in her hair that would always remind them of what she had gone through, and saw himself reflected back. It was too hard to explain, even to himself. But in her eyes, if he looked deep enough he could see that hunger that had drawn him to Orthax in the first place. In the set of her frown, in the clench of her fist. His sister was strong, she had always been that way. Her darkness would not overcome her.

“I truly wish I could let you kill him,” he said with a humorless chuckle when she did not respond right away. “But this world doesn’t need another De Rolo on a destructive streak.”

She cracked a smile at that. “Yes, from what I hear, that would not be the brightest idea.”

She was breaking inside, a little. Cassandra De Rolo, strong, fearless, always held her head up high, had cracks spreading through her chest. She was afraid they would show on her face. She wanted nothing more than to burn and burn and burn until she felt happy or she was gone completely. She wanted so much. So much she couldn’t have. But one thing she could have, she wanted. So she did it.

She reached for Percy, placing her open palm on the table as an invitation. He reached and took it with both of his, holding it tightly. She whispered to him, even though there was no one else around, “I hate that it’s just us. I hate the quiet.”

He nodded. “I do too.”

“It was awful, when you were gone after the Briarwoods.” she told him, for the first time. Admitting something she knew he didn’t want to hear. “I was… lonely. So lonely, Percy. In this cursed castle, having to remember-”

He squeezed her hand tightly when her voice started to have an edge again. She had lived her entire life in this castle, she had known it in its prime, she had known it in its darkest hour, and she would know it for the rest of her life. It was the hardest thing, every morning, to get up and face the rooms where she faced horrors for five years. And when it was over, it was still as if she had to face them every day. She hated it, seeing their faces, seeing the bodies hanging from the Sun Tree. There was nothing from her to do but move through each day and ignore the painful chasm in her chest.

“I’m here now. Vex is here now. We’re not going away.” he told her. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

She wanted to cry again but instead she half smiled. Lovely to hear him say that, lovely to hear his voice at all. She needed to treasure that more often. For years, she had thought she was alone, the last of the De Rolos. And finally, her brother sat before her once again, he was at her disposal all of the time and yet she didn't hold him tightly everyday, she didn’t treasure his every word. But maybe that was a good thing. It meant they were healing. It meant that they had become a normal part of each other's routine again. She didn’t need to hold every moment with him dear because they had years to find happy moments with each other. It brought her some peace, to remember they had so much time. The clock did not feel as if it was ticking down every second anymore, and they could breathe in these minutes of silence.

“I’m very tired.” she told him finally. He slackened his grip on her hand, but still held it loosely with one of his.

“Let’s get you to bed, mother would be so unhappy with the hour.” Despite the pang of sadness the mention of their mother brought her, she laughed.

“She would, wouldn’t she?” she replied. She made him turn off the furnace and put all his things away before they walked out of the workshop, in the hopes that would force him into bed. They walked through the dark hallways, Cassandra’s arm looped through Percy’s. He brought her back to her room, opening the door and leading her inside. She hadn’t known Percy to ever be the most affectionate person but over the last few months it was like he was practicing for his child. Giving more hugs, giving more kind words, going out of his way to make his intent clear. It made her proud, made her happy, that her brother was healing alongside all of his friends. She felt left behind sometimes, that he was making strides in his journey to happiness and she had inherited his gloom. But it still made her happier, when he sat down on the bed next to her and pinched her cheek playfully, the way he used to when she was a child. He’d been only a few years older than her, but old enough to tease her and remind her he was the elder of the two.

“Goodnight, Cassandra.” he said as he got up. “Sleep well.”

“Sleep well.” she repeated as he left and closed the door softly. The room felt fuller now than it had when she had left to find Percy. Warmer.

After she blew out all her candles, she laid in the dark, staring up into the expanse of her ceiling. The darkness felt heavy after all the discussion from the day. It was closing in on her and she closed her eyes to fight against it, now looking at the back of eyelids instead of her pitch black room. Maybe it was her subconscious or maybe it was her tired mind beginning to descend into dreams or maybe those are the same things but regardless, moments passed and then, clear as day, she heard the woman who had ruined it all.

“You could’ve been my daughter.” Lady Briarwood crooned in a sing-song voice. That voice that had been used against Cassandra for so many years, that voice that had haunted her dreams, and her waking hours, and never seemed to leave even when she was alone.

She was a De Rolo. She tried to scream it but her throat wouldn’t work, her mouth wouldn’t work.

I am a De Rolo .

She would wake up tomorrow and she would still be a De Rolo. She had always been. Even when there was nothing to keep her chained to her family, she had this castle, she had their memories, and she would not let them go. She planned on living a long life, one that honored her family in every decision she made. She wanted to make them proud, make her living family proud, and make her home a home for the continuation of their line. There was so much to do and every day she had to remind herself she had time. Beautiful, sweet time. And when Delilah’s voice grew stronger in her head sometimes, she would turn her head and Percy would be there. If the ghosts got a little too strong, she’d turn her cheek. The visions didn’t go away, how could they, after all of these years of persisting and festering in her head? But she lived with them.

She hurt. She’d always hurt, she supposed.

She was broken but not shattered. She refused to shatter. That would have to be enough until she was whole again.

#hilariously. I wrote a fic very very few people care about and I LOVE IT SO MUCH PLS VALIDATE ME #calling all cassandra lovers/gay people!!#anyways #there's a lot more notes and sentiments on ao3 that's a much better place to read this!!#critical role #critical role c1 #critical role campaign 1 #briarwood arc #cassandra de rolo #percival de rolo #vex’ahlia de rolo #the de rolos #delilah briarwood #sylas briarwood #critical role fic #cr percy #cr cassandra #cr vex #AHHHHHHHHHHHH

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aconstantstateofbladerunner · 4 years

Text

101 Open MHA Gen Prompts

I had a very long ask game where people gave me fake titles and I came up with fic ideas to go with them. Multiple people asked to use some of them as prompts, and some of my friends have lately maligned the lack of gen prompts out there, so I decided to compile them all into a single post. Almost all of these are gen, aka not shipping, but you can do what you want I’m not your boss. Everything is free and open to use WITH CREDIT, so have fun with my word vomit.

1. In Dreams I Had the Sun - Being the number one hero isn’t all it’a cracked up to be, Toshinori realizes early on

2. The Chainlink Fence that Held the Ocean - In his new book post-retirement, All Might opens up about his regrets, struggles with mental health, and his issues with the hero system as a whole. The backlash is swift and intense.

3. Welcome to the Loud Silence - After an injury, Izuku is rendered deaf.

4. Water Since Turned Red - After a villain attack nearly kills All Might, the beach where Izuku used to go to find comfort now feels tainted.

5. all scrap left untouched is bound together - A group hero students who failed the provincial license exam for the third time, effectively ending their careers before they start, get together to take revenge on UA’s first years who beat them out.

6. You’ve saved more more times than you know - Times All Might saved people without his powers, just by being a cool, nice dude.

7. No Amount of Tragedy Can Justify Your Actions - A dying All for One tries to justify his centuries of cruelty to an uncaring Toshinori.

8. To Leave a Cage Locked - One for All is conscious and has a will of its own, one that doesn’t always line up with Izuku’s wellbeing.

9. Okay, who let in the Kraken? - Izuku is the reincarnation of an ancient eldritch horror.

10. keep us alive up above - Izuku and Shigaraki get trapped together somewhere. Izuku knows he needs the villain’s help to survive and escape, but the other would rather they both die.

11. The world will revolve around me neither less - The ebbs and flows of AFO’s influence over the years.

12. More Roulette, Not Russian - Kids get their quirks swapped.

13. Patron Saints - Toshinori teaches a class about pre-quirk superhero comic characters and their influence.

14. Don't Come Back - Touya Todoroki’s first few weeks after a severe injury resulted in his father abandoning him.

15. The Blessed and the Fool - Toshinori meets up with a few of his ua classmates after retiring.

16. Not Your Sacrifice - Some of the other kids have started adopting some of Izuku’s self sacrificing habits and the teachers are concerned.

17. Break in the Storm - Villains use a power outage as an opening to break into ua.

18. One Day Those Consequences Will Finally Catch Up - Even though the teachers don’t take her concerns seriously, Inko saves every piece of evidence regarding people hurting her son.

19. a garden in their eyes - Izuku meets a fan who got injured after trying to step into a villain fight, just like he did, and it makes him question some things.

20. what could have been, if not for you - After Inko divorces him, Hisashi’s goes to the press to say All Might stole his wife and son.

21. Promised Misery - All Might finds out the severity of Bakugou’s bullying, and warns him he’s on thin ice with him.

22. Fly Up Higher, Blossom Brighter - Izuku has to write a paper for middle school about being positive, intercut with all the bullshit he has to deal with.

23. Libre Me from Hell - One of Izuku’s new quirks is spiral related.

24. No One to Blame but Yourself - Izuku’s kindness doesn’t extend to murderers, tragic backstory or not.

25. At Its Finest - Izuku accidentally gets involved in a hero commission coverup.

26. A Rising Issue - Izuku starts developing more severe side effects of his injuries. He’s convinced he’s under the influence of a quirk, while the adults thing he’s finally gone too far hurting himself.

27. What you are in the Dark - Izuku usually keeps most of his anger to himself until he can’t.

28. nowhere to go - Inko moves into UA after their home was destroyed.

29. Something Without - My theory about the 2 OFA vestiges that are blurred out is they don’t approve of izuku as a successor. Izuku tries to figure out why.

30. Walking with a Ghost - Toshinori joins the OFA dreams while he’s in a coma. He gets to reunite with nana, and is more open to Izuku about his past and feelings. Part of his starts to wonder if it’s worth waking up, since he will die and join the others eventually.

31. Death By Crying - Izuku is affected by a quirk that will suffocate him if he expresses any emotion.

32. Justice is Subjective - The hero commission gets to Shigaraki before AFO does.

33. Undo / Underdog - Death loop fic. Izuku keeps reliving the day he met all might after being killed by the sludge villain. he has to find a way to break the loop and survive, but he gets s little weaker every time he restarts.

34. Like Wildfire - A rumor that Izuku is All Might’s bio son picks up steam, and the characters have to decide whether to deny it but risk suspicion or play along and add a new layer to the lies protecting one for all.

35. Once Upon A December - All Might and Inko actually met in the past trope.

36. Some Legends Are Told - All Might’s first interview post-retirement.

37. Will The Real Mentor Please Stand Up - Aizawa considers himself the better teacher, but a lot of the kids seem to like All Might more.

38. I don't want the cure, I want the POISON! - Inko is killed in a hit and run, and Izuku becomes desperate to find the killer.

39. I will kill my heart before I dance on stage for these bigots - Izuku is interviewed as a rising star of UA, and the interviewer brings in some of his old bullies because they claimed to be his friends from middle school. Izuku does not play along.

40. Split Ends - A quirk gives Izuku brief visions of what would have happened if he made different decisions.

41. Dreamless Sleep - A One for All dream leaves Izuku with a cryptic half-warning, and he desperately experiments to try and figure out how to trigger the visions to get the rest of it.

42. toxic flowers and pretty blades - Young Inko escapes the constricting life of her cruel wealthy family by becoming a vigilante.

43. The Suns we Orbit - Some of the other teachers believe Izuku is too codependent on Toshinori, and separate them for a time.

44. Submerged - Similar to those buried alive fics only someone’s in a box at the bottom of the ocean.

45. Deprive - Izuku also loses his stomach to an injury, and struggles to adjust to the necessary lifestyle changes.

46. The ashes fall like snow - Post Kamino cleanup.

47. Home will always be here - Inko cares for Izuku after he’s sent home due to “trouble at work study” but he refuses to clarify what that means.

48. Playing Favorites - A look at several times where Izuku was punished, while Bakugou got off scot free.

49. Elusive Dreams - Some kind of training or issue forces the kids to stay away for several consecutive day, and they start losing it.

50. Fracture - Izuku struggles through physical therapy after a severe injury that leaves his hero career in question.

51. Starlight, Starbright - Space cadet au

52. Someone in Your Corner - Gran Torino looking after Nana, Toshi, and finally Izuku through the years.

53. I cast magic missile into the darkness - Generic “the gang plays d&d” fic.

54. One Month At A Time - Izuku breaks a limb, and has to let in heal naturally over the course of several months.

55. Head Above Water - Izuku runs out of his pain meds and can’t get access to more doses for a while, so he has to endure not only the pain, but the withdrawal symptoms.

56. Are you going to leave a path to trace - All Might uses a new strategy to try and get Izuku to be less self sacrificial: what about all the young kids who are going to look up to him?

57. The View from Halfway Down - Izuku realizes that a risky move has just landed him with a potentially life threatening injury, but the fight it still going.

58. The Dust Bites Back - A villain All Might defeated early in his career is back and out for revenge.

59. The Absence of your Worth - Nighteye thinks he’s put together a rock solid case for why izuku isn’t worthy of One for All. All Might’s response is to ask if he has something against quirkless people.

60. Behind the Screens Nobody is Afraid - All Might explains some of the context of his most popular hero videos to Izuku. They are much more tragic than the media has spun them in hindsight.

61. Under the Light of the Moon - Someone gets turned into a werewolf. And I ain’t talking the wattpad piss shit. I’m talking full-on back-breaking monstrous transformations into a bloodthirsty abomination set to Bad Moon Rising.

62. some dreams were made to be broken - Bakugou crosses a line and finally gets expelled.

63. You Say You're Into Closure - Izuku finally beats Bakugou in a one on one fight fair and square, but Bakugou is a sore loser.

64. Something or Someone Missing - AU’s memories of Izuku get wiped, but those closest to him can’t help but feel an absence.

65. Too Little Too Late - Izuku’s father returns to find he’s been replaced.

66. Collecting Dust - Inko goes through the stuff Izuku didn’t take to the dorms.

67. Where the souls of wanderers go - Toshi meets up with a retired hero support group.

68. Fragility of Trust - Suspected traitor au

69. no one answered - Izuku is trapped in a cell in a building that’s collapsing in slow motion due to a quirk.

70. Eye of the Storm - One of the other kids has a panic attack for the first time between public appearances. izuku has never seen from from the outside.

71. To Whom It May Concern - The kids find a mysterious collection of letters from previous students hidden in the ceiling of the classroom. Some are ominous, some are incomprehensible. Aizawa has no answers. They enthusiastically go to try and solve the mystery within, but that excitement quickly diminishes the more they find out.

72. Of Popsicles and Ponytails - All Might gets in a discussion with the other teachers about whether the Clark Kent glasses thing would actually work. All Might bets them it does, so he goes around town with no disguise other than his hair being up, and no one bats an eye.

73. All Men are Not Born Equal - Word gets out to the public that izuku used to be quirkless. Everyone finds out just how deep anti-quirkless sentiments run when some begin to question whether a quirkless kid should be at ua, regardless of whether or not he has a quirk now.

74. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies - Something about encountering death in person for the first time being the dividing line between child and adult.

75. Sins of the Father - All for One has had many children over the centuries, and has made numerous attempts to groom them into the ideal heir with several different methods. None of them worked though.

76. Where The Dead Come To Rest - The kids come home after a long, grueling mission where they saw some shit, and are too tired to process what they went through. They take off their gear for plain clothes, then sit in the common room in silence long into the night, not wanting to open themselves up but also not wanting to be alone.

77. Rivalry - Nighteye tries to pit Izuku and Mirio against one another. It goes right over Mirio’s head, but Izuku becomes convinced the other boy is in on Nighteye’s plan to wear him down until he gives up One for All.

78. A Subtle Language - All Might and Nana never said out loud that they loved each other, but little things told them that they did. All Might hopes to pass a similar love down to his own successor. But Izuku is very different than himself as a kid, and he needs to learn a new subtle language of affection.

79. It’s Gone - One for All stops working one day.

80. A Sight For Sore Eyes - All Might looking after Izuku in the aftermath of the second movie.

81. Loose Lips (sink ships) - Bakugou blurts out something about One for All during a rage, so the rest of the class jump on him and Izuku for answers.

82. No Expectations - Word gets out that All Might is going to choose a successor. None of the theories or speculation online resemble Izuku in the slightest.

83. Eden was Only a Garden - Izuku gets hit with a quirk that erases some of his most traumatic memories, but in doing so loses part of who he is.

84. Run it Down - With all Izuku’s new quirks and his incredible skill, some of the other students with similar powers (Iida, Sero, Uraraka) start to feel like izuku is upstaging them. And it affects their friendship.

85. Fool's Gold - Bakugou grows even more jealous of Izuku having One for All, and his relationship with All Might. He thinks that if he could just prove himself to be more worthy, All Might would change his mind and name him his successor. But in reality, he ends up jeopardizing the relationship they already have.

86. somewhere down the road - The final deadline for Nighteye’s predictions passes, and All Might lives. He debates telling Izuku, as even though it would be a weight off the boy’s mind, he doesn’t want to jinx it. He will still die eventually after all.

87. Just For You - All Might has certain rules and boundaries for fan interactions that he completely ignores for Izuku.

88. if these walls could talk (their whispers would be maddening) - Montage of training accidents in a ‘cursed’ ua gym

89. If Only I Could... - Nighteye tells Mirio about One for All, including that he thinks he’s more deserving than Izuku and he plans to pressure him into giving it up. Mirio struggles with the knowledge that his mentor, someone he respected more than anything, only saw him as a replacement for All Might, meanwhile watching Izuku strain under the pressure of that mentor’s impossible expectations.

90. This is a Test Designed to Provoke an Emotional Response - shameless Blade Runner AU

91. Once and for All - Retelling of the Superman story “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?” with All Might. Some new heroes use much more aggressive and violent tactics against villains while also upstaging All Might. That, and there general approval from the public cause All Might to question his moral code.

92. Sitting In The Rain - Tsuyu likes to just sit out in the rain sometimes. Not do anything, just sit there. Some friends decide to join her.

93. At Sundown - Mysterious creatures start attacking ua every night. The gang works tirelessly during the day to find the cause and a solution, while defending their school and each other at night.

94. The 1000th time's the charm - Uraraka has been practicing a new move in secret but they just can’t get it right. She wants it to be perfect before showing it off. But one attempt gets her seriously hurt while training alone at night in one of the gyms, and she’s too hurt to get up to the phone to call for help.

95. Sunflower Seeds - All Might attempts to start a garden as a new hobby.

96. What It Means To Be Human - Sun god Toshi starts living among people.

97. Eyes on Me - All Might teaches Izuku some unarmed fighting moves to defend himself from bullies.

98. one remains - Izuku has developed all but one of the quirks he’s slated to, and he has no idea what it will be. Anxiety ensues.

99. Come Back Home - Izuku vanishes from campus and everyone assumes he was kidnapped, but in reality he ran away to try and clear his head after a depressive spiral. He goes by train as far away as he can until he comes to his senses and calls the others.

100. I Won - Izuku accidentally managed to kill Shigaraki during a skirmish, and while everyone around him praises his heroics, he struggles to deal with the fact that he killed someone.

101. Ivory Tower - All Might grapples with how much izuku suffered as a quirkless person, how he could have done more for quirkless rights in his time as a hero, and how now people may not care as much because he’s retired.

Reminder to credit me if you use any of these prompts, and a special thanks to everyone who submitted titles!

#mha #bnha #mha prompts #bnha prompts #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dad might #all might #toshinori yagi #midoriya izuku #deku #bakugou katsuki #aconstantstateoffanfiction

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madzfm · 3 years

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˛ ⠀ * ⠀ ★ ⠀ JESSICA ALEXANDER . CIS FEMALE . SHE / HER ⧽ ⠀ have you seen the 786 latest post ? sources say they have some serious dirt on the child of a big time COUNTRY MUSIC STARS . they haven’t revealed who it was yet but my best is on MADISON DARLING ! ever since that last update about how she ALLEGEDLY GOT CAUGHT SPORTING A BABY BUMP LAST YEAR BEFORE GHOSTING EVERYONE i don’t put anything pass them . i mean , these celebrity kids are just out of control . they do whatever they want , whenever they want and are ungrateful in the process !! i mean take MADDIE for example , they’re a TWENTY THREE year old DANCER , and what did they do to get there ? have famous parents ! like hello , just because you HAVE BEEN IN MUSIC VIDEOS WITH A-LIST MUSICIANS doesn’t mean you actually deserved it . i’m glad the 786 is taking them down a notch . it’s about time someone does .

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂 / 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 / 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

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hey ... hey ... how y’all doin’ ? i’m sooo excited to be here , besties ! sorry i’m late with the intro , it’s been a looooong weekend for me but i’m eager to get the ball rolling . so here’s the rundown , the google doc has a full bio + more stats + headcanons but i don’t expect anyone to actually read all that nonsense so i’ve tried my best to sum it up below ( it’s still kinda long tho i’m sorry y’all i ramble too much ). i’m always down to talk plots & threw a few wanted connection ideas at the bottom , so feel free to hmu on discord any time <3 but yes okay let’s get into it

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━━ ˊ * 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 . .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. madison dallas darling . 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬). maddie , mads . 𝐝𝐨𝐛. april 14 , 1998 . 𝐚𝐠𝐞. twenty - three . 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜. aries sun , libra moon , leo asc . 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. cis female . 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬. she / her . 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. bisexual . 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. nashville , tn . 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 5ft 5in . 𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. high school diploma . 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. dancer / realty tv personality . 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬. robert “robbie” darling - father . dixie darling - mother . delaney darling - sister . 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬. compassionate , imaginative , family-oriented , devoted , generous , sympathetic , idealistic , self critical , naive , competitive , indecisive , impressionable , elusive , sensitive .

━━ ˊ * 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 . .

tw : things like shitty controlling parents , injury , & pregnancy are mentioned

born & raised in nashville , tennessee , madison is the daughter of two country music icons ( basically blake shelton & miranda lambert ) & has only ever known a life in the spotlight . her parents were a widely adored it couple who shared their lives with millions of viewers across the world with their reality tv show . at 7pm cst you could tune in to watch robbie & dixie raise their two daughters - having some good ol’ wholesome family fun while juggling responsibilities that come with being famous artists . to any outsider looking in , they seemed like the perfect family . a loving father , a supportive mother , two prim & proper daughters that collected accolade after accolade in every pageant & talent competition they ever entered . but you shouldn’t believe everything you see on tv , even if it’s deceptively labeled as “reality” .

when the cameras weren’t rolling , the darling sisters were left under their mother’s restrictive control . dixie darling treated her daughters more like dolls than living beings , madison & delaney were basically pretty little accessories . while robbie never dared to mistreat his daughters , he was around a lot less than the show made it seem - often touring the world rather than spending quality time with his girls . plus , dixie & robbie seemed to endlessly fight with one another - nearly every childhood memory madison has of her parents involves them yelling . if she wanted to see them looking happy & in love , she’d have to tune in to the fabricated reality on their own show to get a taste of what a happy , loving family looks like .

you can’t be a child of dixie darling without being exploited in some way . while delaney was pushed into the music scene , madison was shoved into the world of dance . she took every class that was offered & practiced for hours upon hours to perfect her craft . her sister had taken after their folks with the singing voice of an angel & the looks to rival that of miss universe , meanwhile maddie was good for two things : dance & doing whatever her mother said . so when dixie said to twirl , she twirled , when she said do a grand jeté, maddie asked how high & then over performed like the good little girl she was trained to be .

it wasn’t until her parents got divorced & maddie moved to miami to be with her sister , her father , & her father’s new girlfriend that she sort of came out ( or more accruately described as dragged out ) of her timid , non - confrontational , subservient shell . with a longer leash , she had more freedom to roam far & wide . no one tried to tell her what to do or who to talk to & considering she was just a privileged teenager with endless funds & the status to get away with just about anything , you can imagine how badly that went . every mistake she made was broadcasted onto people’s televisions or headlined in tabloids . it was stressful , growing up & messing up all under the watchful gaze of millions of people who felt entitled to berate her for her poor life decisions . just because they watched her grow up on tv didn’t mean they actually knew anything about her . & yet so many people shared their unsolicited opinions on her & her life . it drove her insame .

maddie wasn’t handling the stress of being well known very well . she wanted a break from it all , to just go somewhere far away where no one knew her name & just live by herself . it was a silly dream . nothing she’d ever actively pursue . but the universe has a funny way of giving us a taste of what we think we want just to teach us a lesson .

so over a year ago , maddie found out that she was pregnant . it was a shock to say the least . she kept it a close guarded secret from everyone but her sister for awhile . not only was it a life changing development , but it was one thing that she was determined not to share with the rest of the world . with the idea of running away in continuous loop in the back of her mind , she came up with a plan to buy herself some time . she faked a really bad injury during a performance & let the media run with saying she might not be able to walk , let alone dance ever again . pushing the cover story even further , she claimed to be in need of intense physical therapy & sought after it in a luxurious private lodge in new zealand . that’s where she stayed during her year away , letting no outsiders come visit while she figured out how she was going to move forward with this baby growing inside of her .

so maddie finally got the break she was looking for even if it wasn’t under the circumstances that she would’ve liked . but she adapted to the situation . in her time away , she went through the entire pregnancy but it was basically decided for her by her parents that it was best to give the baby up for adoption . the little girl would be in good care by a couple that was a family friend of the darlings . better to bless someone who wanted a baby but couldn’t have one than for maddie to keep her daughter when she wasn’t in a place to take care of her . it broke her heart , honestly . she had grown quite attached to the baby & even entertained the idea of being a single mom even though she knew her own mom would never let that happen - it would go against the strict narrative that they try to put out there about the darling family .

after a year away , maddie is back in miami without anyone knowing what really happened . she keeps using the “injury” as the excuse for her absence from the spotlight . anyone really close to her might be able to tell that something’s off , but she’s trying so hard to act like everything is fine & nothing has changed at all . she might even be able to get away with her lies - if it wasn’t for that damn 786 website threatening to spill the tea & make her life hell .

━━ ˊ * 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

a wannabe good girl gone bad but harbors a deep rooted fear of being a disappointment & a failure due to her mom’s strict parenting style . so like she wants to be rebellious & come across as carefree but internally she’s panic screaming always ( honestly relatable like same , girl )

well - mannered in a sweet southern belle kind of way with her please’s & thank you’s & calling everyone ma’am & sir out of respect & what not

biiiig mom friend energy . she just wants to make sure that everyone is taken care of . she can get very protective & a little helicopter parent-y with her friends . it probably has something to do with control issues that she doesn’t realize she has but we don’t have time to unpack that rn akjsdbk

before her year away i want to say that she was a lot more people please-y / overly eager to please ?? like rarely said no to people that asked for favors , always agreed to any plans people invited her to out of courtesy , & what have you . but now i see her as being a little less patient than before & a little bit more unhinged & quick to shut down or snap

guillable ! naive ! dumb as hell ! believes that everyone was raised with the same values as her & has a big of a heart like she does so she’s easily subjectable to getting her feelings hurt & i say let it happen !!

wants to be mysterious so bad but there is very little known about her & her life that isn’t public knowledge . she could get shit on by a bird & it’ll probably become a twitter highlight idk she just wants to believe she’s imperceptible & acts all evasive in order to keep her private life private but that rarely ever has the desired effect

one of those annoying rich & famous people that’s like “i wasn’t meant to be famous . i was meant to have a normal life & be a normal person” but like !! she is actually so out of touch with reality & probably couldn’t tell you how much milk is at the grocery store because she has people to do mundane day to day things for her . spoiled little privileged rich girl , let’s be real . her dad tried to keep her humble , idk what happened

dance style / career is pretty much inspired by maddie ziegler but also not really bc i am very picky & choosey about which aspects of her career i’m pulling from

boring on social media because she hardly ever posts & is very short with her captions & tweets when she does make an appearance online every blue moon

dodges questions about what she’s been up to while she was gone like she’s in the matrix or something . all that pr training her mom put her through when she was younger is coming in handy because she has not given a single honest , straight answer in the months she’s been back . would rather talk about anything else than herself right now so don’t be surprised if she pulls some random subject changes out of her ass if people get nosy . i’m sure the common conspiracy is that maddie was so embarrassed by the fall on stage that she went into hiding

delaney is the kim kardashian & britney spears of the family while madison is the kourtney & the jamie lynn xoxo

━━ ˊ * 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

ride or die , bad influence , frenemies , family friends , good influence , confidant , rival , girl squad , non judging breakfast club , childhood friend , unlikely friend , exes on good terms , exes on bad terms , neighbors , pr friendship , pr enemy , social media mutuals , party buddies , secret friend , secret hook - up , crush , friends with benefits , adventure buddy , enemy with benefits , dance partners , mentors , mentees , sibling like relationship , will they won’t they , people suspicious of her & her supposed “injury” , father of her baby 👀 jk ..... unless

#786intro #template credit to yeonjvnz on deviantart !#they're linked in the source <3

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libidomechanica · 10 months

Text

You under his moulders daily for the heaven

A limerick sequence

How can field Martha! The she said or say loud I hate or ever love Amaryllis, she sullen survive. And talk of Temperamental eyes; my nations for Scio.

So sharp as hast for land as he obscure. And like a marriers blame the base, how awkward sight be: his new: I recollect in their own to wedlock; but Verbum sat.

To haue learn’d them; at large, and o’er the moons?—And from Arabian Nightful green, third days’ sweet must for yet of lots were were and in Greek. Old Farmer not Rosalend?

Nor lost its a bee. Had sight, ev’n to loving, and sang in half its she walls, glitter in his own might of and put in were in a mild the placed look down eye but dream!

Two name mystic peace, I do stake one and if we can the bolt did betray. Stall my beloved and yet in facts emotionlessly, and hold water, the the said.

And the friend, born, whose whence nourish! Rise, and self-balance, and compunction one must prying more, and people fortress—I, althought violence. Oh mission flying wind!

I found me chain her will dipt in his poorests, i, a low rock. Tis songs he lake: shall each him in sepulchral hills? Yes, in papery dead ere memory repose.

I was at pray have me, where, according all they all it to us, a fool? And how bright, and the deeps come! Farewell; tis not when this way. Year element, and sink?

And a morn by ghosts—their was flesh; there night fool? The silver like a conventions of love them remain, the lashes round thro’ memorial cooings; no other read young.

Were not speaking, over-shell feels her prove the warm precincts, wine! Had given: her shade, and dwelt full of fancy’s that his locks the Kidd pity heart, and I reacher song.

Do you, may before thou’ ask’d the Sun. Up from come twilight shall please. Ask me notion, and there between the city-noise, had Here to my hour to church, then power?

At the was basest which your house whose that mock-shroud desponds would not from over utmost rememberings; he thrice of deceitful jest? But worn by my pen—women?

In hand flash’d neglectful, perhaps—but the closet: pray, when I am not. And made away; and loved’s, my loved, the griefs the teach of name. And hall, and bittering.

But scanty draws; thereformation. The glow’d legs, and Easter, drive thou art built on it to they glow’d no bittering far; and uttered! Where border’d his verse long kind.

Show to have expectable, gave no many a years so he faith bless close thrice on when the cut a wish your Bosom an authority. To find is not my fail.

As after several sign over. ’ Silk and Pegasus runs pardon a’ our real eyes of our to remedy was mine, fast be tell—tis that plank day a suitor.

And wave, her faces as thorn in the learn the seemed, and beautiful, and by trance, half the love. Of their lives instrel instruck in fact the lawn and higher the loves, they?

The histories and reach and dance rising gold, dangers? Some kind, he rest quite new as well a malus and cross. Endless at a wild and then all strutting claim, poor insane.

This I know. A life, and theirs nor was a little boat, they went at all cry? Though your hair. Nor can a young rough I had voyage Timbuctoo the eye, she best in size.

Ye him by the faith. And prove so fix our be; but chiefest blows of his darkness aged each other itself, once more the full leaded essening, some back to heard!

He squeezed among the tender-showers and there and stoop from the room, too, had surpass’d, and I burning sea; but come, that cannot so? And if she shy Thames overworn.

A cruel, cruel, cruel, love, for youth of everywhere iniquity. Brows, but place of thy verses when she shadowings, and the heroine. Up the height, so the ashame!

Then hem knolls them tree, as there. His plan? Astrological berry winter indifferent man! A dank, sickle and as arrowe forests. Into yon spot away.

I can’st they trice, and half the trees and their earlier into heart with shamed, Ida whole; with company, who shower in all colours calmly ship of Stephen Hill.

Arose father at you dream my won’t you for Corydon. Thou stick of a stars grave, for her found thus they were bronze, they were alone; but the times she knewe I lingers.

Not she doorways spoil he watch-dog’s house, in circulation of Hazeldean.— Several oathsome duller guardian sentially draught to him too, of man; and hand.

But the Foxe him who hath Echo till not if that binds thine; but the martyr. Eke child thy rangely o’er words, that I see in thing monkey, as show throught as this man?

He clawing of a statements and feeble, in spring payne. I have dress to traced number Julia’s mothers much blossom with him afraid. Beneath such a misery!

Starved, pass’d my clouds divine? Of the sweet you my minnie to some remorsels from a draughters up all it too. The head, thy below, and in the heart, and in such clay.

Of life is boys and slow draw the pain? Half-senses credit will death-weigh’d as I. Deep folly. And sky, week all celestial existening dress they never with weight.

The floods, but mine: gives oozing out well. In searchin, and made the will notion, must we poorest-tost; and kings: whether! And he season left of thine o’ the river’d man.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #157 texts #limerick sequence

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downwiththeficness · 4 years

Text

A Need So Great Chapter 12

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~4,000

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Eva woke desperately needing to pee. She was laying on her back, hands on either side of her head. Horacio’s arm was thrown over her waist, his body angled towards her. She looked over at him, his face completely relaxed, breaths slow and even. A beautiful man laying in repose.

Very carefully, she extricated herself from him, padding to the bathroom. Afterwards, as she was washing her hands, Eva flinched at her reflection in the mirror. Bruises had formed over her hips, on her thighs, around her wrists. He’d sucked hickeys over her stomach and breasts. When she turned, her back was similarly marked. At her neck was a clear bite, just over the scent gland behind her ear.

She ran two fingers over it, the skin sensitive and warm. Eva wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing at the time, knew the consequences of this actions. She stared at it, feeling flushed.

Hands on the counter, Eva debated her options. She could try to hide it, but experience taught her that Horacio was nothing if not observant. She could sneak out, but she’d run the risk of implying she was unhappy with the bonding mark on her neck. The truth was quite the opposite. She tamped down the excitedly happy feeling, trying not to get ahead of herself.

Turning off the lights, Eva gingerly opened the door and crawled back into the bed, hauling the comforter with her from where it had been kicked off in the night. Horacio grumbled as she slid in next to him, hands already pulling her into his chest, a sleepy kiss touching her brow. Eva smiled and snuggled down, falling back asleep.

When she woke again, she was alone. The bed was still warm, but he wasn’t there. Groggy, she scooted to standing and dug through her overnight bag, pulling on a t shirt and shorts. With a yawn, she headed to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and stopped herself from pulling her hair up. Probably best that she leave it down for the moment.

Rubbing at her eyes, she stepped out into the hall and towards the living room, searching. He was sitting on the couch, head in his hands. He’d donned a pair of sweatpants, and even from a distance she could see that she’d scratched him across the arms, parallel red lines running from his tricep down around to the bend of his elbow.

A kind of tentative self consciousness settled over her. She’d been worried about the way her body looked, she hadn’t stopped to consider what she’d done to him.

As if sensing her, his head lifted and he fixed her with a hard gaze. Eva bit her lip, unsure in her approach.

“How did you sleep?” she tried, remaining in the doorway.

His eyes softened, “Good. Really good.”

Lifting a hand, he reached out to her. Relieved, Eva shuffled towards him, taking it. He pulled her to sit next to him. Eva went willingly, settling in and pulling her knees beneath her. They sat in silence for a few moments, and Eva could feel the tension in him.

“We need to talk about this,” he said finally.

Eva looked up at him, “About what?”

“This,” he touched the side of her neck, just below where he’d marked her.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes falling to half mast as the sensation lanced through her body. It would be like that until he finished the bond, every caress met with an urgent push of desire.

“What about it?”

Scoffing, he dropped his hand, eyes rolling, “This is serious, Eva.”

She knew this, “I know.”

God, but it was serious. She knew it. And yet, she couldn’t drudge up the ire she should definitely be feeling for what had happened. She didn’t want to.

“Then treat it seriously.”

Eva wasn’t quite prepared for the anger that traveled throughout his tone. Insecurities that she had worked to overcome reared up and it took a moment for her to realize that he was waiting for her to say something.

Looking at her hands, she said, “I don’t know how you want me to react.”

Sighing, he stood, pacing away from her a few steps, hands running through his hair, “I want you to react honestly.”

No, you don’t, Eva thought. He wanted her to be angry, to cry, to feel badly about it. He wanted her to feel like he felt. It hurt, that conclusion. She felt pressure in her chest as she tried not to cry. This was not going well. No. Fuck that. She wasn’t going to be cowed by her own insecurities in this. She could tell the truth.

“I’m fine,” read: ecstatic, “About it.”

He repeated the word ‘fine’, hands on his hips. She couldn’t quite decipher his expression, it was so closed off. Months had passed since she had felt this kind of distance between them—like he had been when they were first circling around each other.”

“Eva, you should be pressing charges. I initiated a bond without your permission.”

She shrugged, “I wasn’t saying no.”

“You weren’t saying yes,” he countered, growing agitated, “We didn’t talk about it first.”

Again, she shrugged, “I’m not angry about it.”

“Well, I am,” he bit out, jaw tight.

She looked away, the slow, fervent hope that she’d tried so hard to keep at bay dissipating like fog in sunlight. Eyes closed, Eva leaned back on old defense strategies, wiping her slate clean and shutting away the situation in front of her.

“No,” he muttered, hustling towards her and kneeling down, hands on her knees, “No, don’t do that. I didn’t mean it.”

Eva’s mouth thinned, “You did.”

“Not that way,” he clarified, his chest pressing against her shins.

The way he was looking at her, that beseeching expression, the way his hands dropped and circled her ankles. Eva didn’t know how to deal with knowing he was angry and seeing him looking at her so intently.

“Then, how did you mean it?”

His lips parted, and she could see how difficult it was for him to find the words, his brows drawing together.

“I took away your choice.”

Eva blinked, “You didn’t.”

With a little laugh and condescension in his tone, he replied, “I was in rut, Eva. You couldn’t have stopped me.”

Her mouth curled, “You don’t know that.”

Licking his lips, he dropped his chin, eyes narrow, “In all the years I’ve been on the job, I’ve never—never—had sex on duty. Not once. And not only did I break that record, I did it in my office with other officers in the building.”

Eva chuckled, running her fingers over his cheek, “Most of them were gone. It was extremely unlikely that we would get caught.”

His eyes closed, he took a breath, then fixed her with a level glare, “That is not the point.”

She turned her hand over in question, “Explain it to me.”

“I lost control,” he answered, his voice cracking. His hands rose to her knees tightening and releasing as he said it, as if to emphasize his words.

Eva gave him a soft, understanding look, “That’s normal for a rut.”

Horacio shook his head, “Not for me.”

She gave him a disbelieving look, “Really?”

He frowned, “You think I haven’t had a rut before? You think I haven’t had one with an omega? I have, and I have never…” he paused, the words hanging between them. Then, he visibly switched gears, “When I saw you standing at my desk, that was it. It was over. I don’t know what I would have done if you told me no.”

She smiled a little, joking, “I’m not that kind of tease.”

Shaking his head, he continued, “I don’t know what I would have done if you said no and meant it.”

And there it was. They’d gone full fucking circle. Their first real conversation outside of the prying ears of others echoing all the way to this exact moment. Except now, she could see that he wasn’t afraid of scaring her. He was afraid of scaring himself. This was a man with one foot in the darkness, who was constantly on guard against dropping both feet in. She could work with that.

“I didn’t say no, and I’m not saying no, now. If things… go pear shaped, we both still have a choice.”

She watched him process what she was saying. Although, he’d started the bonding process through the bite that scored the skin over her scent gland, they could still make the decision to stop it. Eva would have to go through one more heat by herself. It would be painful, far more painful than the one she’d just experienced, because her body knew at its very core that there was an alpha she could go to. But, she would do it, if he asked.

Horacio went very still, his expression stormy, mouth thin in displeasure. She bit back the urge to keep talking, unsure. And then he was moving, lifting up off the floor, pushing her into the back of the couch. His hand wrapped around the base of her throat, the meat of his palm resting on her collarbone. He wasn’t squeezing, but his grip brooked no argument. She was not to move.

“If you think I’m going to let you go through a heat without me, especially now, you are mistaken.”

He already had, but he didn’t know that—she may never tell him.

Eva floundered, “I...I mean—I can’t ask you to...”

He growled, hauling her up to stand on the couch. She wobbled, looking down at him, her hands on his shoulders for balance.

“The second,” he enunciated slow, “The second I sense you’re in heat, I will be on you. God help us if it starts in the embassy. We’ll be lucky if I don’t knot you in the fucking supply closet.”

Eva gasped, scandalized. Although everyone was taught the basics of pair bonding, it still wasn’t talked about so plainly. The image of them lying on the cold tiled floor, helplessly grabbing at each other, him grinding up into her to slot that thick ridge of flesh into her body—she was pretty sure she was blushing all over.

Horacio smiled, full dimpled, his hands sliding up her legs to palm her ass, “If I could have done it last night, I would have.” He pressed his nose to her sternum, “For a moment, I thought I might. You were so hot and wet and smelled so good. Fuck, I’ve never been that hard.”

His arms tightened as he took her weight, carrying her from the living room towards the bedroom. Eva moaned as she felt his erection pressed against her center. He laid her down in the middle of the bed, pulling off her t shirt and shorts, throwing them over the side. There was no way to hide the marks now, the bruises shadowing over her skin in the morning light. Eva watched him look at her body, his expression unreadable.

“Do you hurt?” he asked, eyes catching hers.

Eva did hurt. She was sore in all the right places, little twinges that reminded her constantly of their night together.

“A little,” she answered, her voice low.

He nodded silently, fingers tracing over a particularly deep hickey on her breast. Then, he moved down to her belly, where there was bruising the fit the shape of his hand. He mapped it, fitting his hands over the marks, brows together. Eva squirmed a little, thinking that she should be used to this kind of scrutiny from him by now. The frank assessment and cataloging of her injuries felt like a new experience every time. Anxiously, she awaited whatever judgment he might make.

Crawling up to lay beside her, Horacio nosed along her collarbone, whispering, “Let me make it up to you.”

Eva rolled to her side, facing him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently, “You don’t have to apologize.”

He shook his head, a curl falling over his brow, “I want to. Will you let me?”

Unable to deny him such a sweet thing, Eva nodded, leaning over to kiss him lightly. He sighed into it, hand falling naturally to her waist as he gathered her to him. More little kisses followed, a bare taste of what she knew he was capable of. Eva felt her body go lax, her limbs resting wherever he moved them, her eyes half closed.

Very carefully, he tilted her head back, his mouth tracing a long line from her shoulder to the place where he’d bitten her. She knew it was tender and raw, likely a little swollen—her heartbeat pulsing beneath the skin. Here, he placed the softest kiss of all, barely brushing his lips over it. Eva’s fingers curled into her palm as she trembled.

“I would do it again,” he breathed, a little prayer against her skin, “I would.”

She knew how much that confession cost him, knew it without him having to say a word. Eva’s eyes closed, a strange feeling welling up. It was something more than affection, more than want or need. It sent a weird kind of pain into her chest that was only soothed by pulling him into a hug, her face pressed against his chest.

“Lay back.”

Eva let him roll her to her back, watching his hand as it smoothed a path down the middle of her chest, settling on the soft roundness of her belly. He kissed her brow, letting his forehead press to her temple as he, too, followed the course his hand was taking.

Slowly, gingerly, he swept over her hips and down her thighs, opening them with just a little pressure. He thumbed the bony outcrop of her hip, sliding one finger down the crease where her thigh met it. Eva bit her lip, trying to keep her breathing even.

The backs of his fingers roved upwards, circling her breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Eva felt her breath leave her in a soft gasp, the feeling oozing from her nipple down to her core. Warmth spread across her skin, goosebumps not far behind.

Leaning down, he sucked the nipple he wasn’t playing with into his mouth, teeth scraping. Eva arched up in offering, a soft little cry escaping her lips. She held him there, one hand in his hair, the other digging into his shoulder—not that she needed to. He seemed perfectly happy to stay right where he was, moving from breast to breast, tongue gliding over her skin.

It wasn’t long before she was squeezing her legs together, the ache in her body rising past her want to keep still and open for him. Horacio lifted up, admiring the way her skin glistened from his kisses. Eyes dark, he tapped the leg nearest to him, a wordless command.

Eva let her hips relax and her knees open wide. He smiled at her, pleased, the pads of his fingers roaming up her inner thigh until they rested against her.

“You’ll tell me if it hurts.”

Not a question. His voice had dropped down an octave, the directive clear and concise. Eva would not be able to deny him, not in this, either. Using ever increasing pressure, he spread her slick up and down. Meticulously, he separated each lip, gathering the wetness and ensuring there was a nice, easy coating. Eva’s limbs flinched each time he circled upwards to round her clit, not quite touching the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Slipping down, he circled her opening, much as he had done the previous evening. A slow, even pace, Horacio took his time with it. Pleasure surged every time he put a little bit more pressure on it, not quite breaching.

Eva whined, tilting her hips as she tried to get him to go just a little bit further. It would do no good, she knew that. He was going to do what he was going do, at the pace he wanted to do it. It was a stark contrast to the previous night, where his body had taken over completely, an animal loosed on her. Now, he’d regained control and it appeared that he was determined to keep it.

She bit her lip, fighting the urge to grab at his wrist, to hold him steady and drive down onto his fingers. This was as much for him as it was for her, and though she wasn’t nearly as patient, she could try. That didn’t mean that she was perfectly abiding by his unsaid plan. Eva rolled with every stroke, moaning and writhing as the pleasure built.

Horacio was definitely not unaffected. His erection dug into her side, though she could tell he was making an effort to keep from grinding it against her. Eva had tried to touch him a few times, but he pushed her hands away, his focus entirely on her.

When finally, finally, he eased a finger into her, Eva keened as if he’d worked his cock into her, the muscles of her body clenching down. He paused, thumb swiping ever so softly against her clit, his eyes on her face. He watched her breathe, her eyes squinting at the pain laced pleasure he was giving her.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He’d asked the same question the night before, only this time he wasn’t smirking. Looking concerned, he waited for her answer, hand perfectly still inside her.

“No,” Eva replied, swallowing around a dry throat.

After another beat, he huffed out a breath through his nose, his wrist turning as he eased the digit in and out of her, curling it slightly to catch on her g spot every time he pulled out. Eva felt her eyes roll back as he pushed another finger into her, stroking along her walls.

His name coming out in four sharp syllables, Eva grabbed at the pillow beneath her head. She was exhausted and sore and she still wanted to come. Digging her feet into the mattress, Eva met his measured thrusts, a little ‘unh, unh, unh’ eeking out with every one.

Breaths stuttering, her body flexed, bowing up as she came. He cooed at her, his free hand pushing the hair from her face as he kissed everywhere he could reach. Eva had a hard time catching her breath, her body shivering despite the heat of him laying next to her.

“Alright?” he asked, looking her over.

Blinking, she smiled at him, lifting up to kiss him soundly on the mouth, “I’m good.”

Glancing down, she realized that he was still hard, tenting the material of his sweatpants. When she went to stroke him, he caught her hand, bringing it up to his lips to give it a soft kiss of censure.

“That was for you,” he explained, shifting to his back and pulling her over to lay against his chest.

They laid like that for an hour or so, until her stomach growled. He laughed and swatted her thigh lightly, telling her to get dressed and that he was taking her to lunch. Not far from his house, there was a little cafe, the smell of food wafting out into the street. Eva was surprised when he set her down into a chair next to him rather than across from him, as he usually did. She was even more surprised when he held her hand on the table.

He caught her questioning gaze, “Its impossible to hide, now. Anyone would be able to tell the second they got into a room with us.”

That...was not untrue. He’d started the mating process, and their bodies would continue to adjust and change to that process the longer it went on. Even after the bite healed, she’d carry his scent just as much as he would carry hers.

“I...have to broach the subject of safety, Eva,” he started, “I’d like to put an officer on you, at least when I’m not there.”

Eva rolled her eyes, “Is that necessary?”

He bobbed his head, “It is. I do have a bounty on my head, and they aren’t above using people I care about to…”

His words trailed off, but Eva knew what he was getting at. She could be used as bait, to get him to act, to scare him, to get him to do what they wanted. Sighing, she nodded, not willing to fight with him about it, knowing that she wouldn’t win, anyways.

They were almost through with their meal when Eva spotted her, a tall, willowy blonde walking in heels too tall a stroll through this kind of neighborhood. Her fork clattered to her plate, startling the man next to her. He followed her line of sight, squinting.

Eva could not be lucky enough that she wouldn’t be seen, and her heart nearly surged out of her chest as the object of her ire saw her, scowled, and changed course. She stood, circling around the table to meet her.

“Hello, Myra,” she greeted, not quite keeping her voice even.

Myra had aged a little in the fifteen years since she’d last seen her, though her plastic surgeon was doing a remarkable job at keeping her looking young. She tugged off her sunglasses and regarded Eva balefully.

“Evangeline. Funny meeting you here.”

Yes, funny meeting you on a road scarcely visited by tourists, in another county, in another fucking hemisphere.

“Life is funny sometimes,” Eva responded, a rasp in her voice.

Myra glanced behind Eva, and she could see the woman assessing Horacio, her upper lip curling.

“I see you’ve found yourself someone to clean up after you.”

She would not rise to the bait. She’d done that enough when she was fourteen. Eva was an adult and would act like one.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business. Not anymore.”

Myra glared, jaw ticking, “It is my business. It will always be my business. You killed my boy. And, here you are, eating lunch on a sunny afternoon while he rots.”

Eva took several deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm, “I moved on, Myra. You should, too.”

Pointing a finger at her, Myra growled, “It should have been you.”

A glint caught Eva’s eye and she glanced down to find that Myra was wearing her fucking wedding ring and engagement band on her first finger, the stones shining. The audacity of wearing the symbol of everything that had hurt her for seven long years broke something inside. She bared her teeth.

“No,” she spit, “You knew what he was. You raised him to be a disgusting, abusive prick. You watched him beat me after that dinner party and you did nothing! There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t fucking rejoice that I killed your psychopath of a son.”

The slap, when it came, was expected. Eva’s head whipped to the side and she heard the scratch of the chair as Horacio stood. Quickly, she held a hand up, silently begging him to stand down. She watched Myra watch him, her mouth smirking.

“Like mother, like son,” she said, taking a step away and wiping at her mouth. She wasn’t bleeding, but the skin was smarting.

Myra drew back, gripping her handbag.

Sneering, Eva simply said, “Go back to whatever you were doing. You’re not wanted, here.”

Myra’s scowl deepened for a moment, and then she was smiling the smile she used when she was dealing with a particularly distasteful dinner guest.

“Until next time.”

Eva watched her march down the street until she turned a corner, her blonde hair swinging behind her. She didn’t look back, and Eva didn’t know how she would react if she had. Her teeth hurt from clenching her jaw so hard.

Hands touched her shoulders in question. Eva reached up and covered them, sniffing back the tears.

“I want to go home.”

He was already moving, “I’ll get the check.”

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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