#AND HER TITLES AND PRIDEFUL DECEIT AND EVERYTHING ARE SO COOL

[dawnbreak81]

it would appear I cannot contain my mania to the tags alone, for I have hit the 30 tag limit, so concisely continuing:

1- I LOVE HER SO MUCH

2- YOU DID FUCKING AMAZING SHE'S SO SO SO SO COOL

3- PERFECTION.

4- the genshin artstyle really does bbgify people, huh

5- the way I had to stifle a scream when I saw "Eula" and the unhinged violent screeching it turned to when I read "Vetur" tHAAT ASSHOLE- anyway

6- the two of them when they were young always make me so emotional AHhh 😭

7- but. You know what makes more onions?? THAT. LAST. DIALOGUE.

8- Please never stop this heart trampling. It's incredible.

9- I am sO SLEEP-DEPRIVED ok byeeeeee :)

[Seiren • Starsilver Sparrow]

“Eula, how would you feel if I suddenly get amnesia, hm? You know like Vetur finally having enough of me and shoving me off the balcony—" “Sister, Sir Meier would have a stroke if he were listening to our conversation,” Eula briskly piped in, lowering her chipped teacup with a delicate clink before shooting an eagle-like glare at her older sister. “However, more importantly why would you suggest such wretched events? Is Vetur being bothersome, once again? I thought he had become responsible and stopped after I had made him slip on his own clothes—MMF.” The older sister groaned, plucking another biscuit from the tray and warningly held it up to the younger’s girl’s indignant glower as she menacingly munched.

“It’s only hypothetical, you funny little lemon. I’ll get a mirror - you’re all blown up like an angry pufferfish.” She tapped the biscuit against Eula’s scrunched up nose and slowly pushed it into her mouth. “Keep this up and you’ll only get porridge for the next week, you hear me?” - - -

Pain rattled through her gritted teeth as a gloved fist yanked her up by her knotted hair. Smouldering eyes of glowing coal glowered down resentfully at her behind a cracked mask, with the distant groaning curses of fallen Fatui heard in the background as they attempted to crawl out from pieces of rubble and jutting stalagmites of golden creedite.

“What the hell is this?”

She smirked, blood smudged across her battered lips. Past the shattered frame of the tavern’s window, the hilt of the scythe glinted in the flickering broken light and Adrik’s hand curled over its blade in a last futile attempt.

How bloody damn hilarious.

“Hey! What are you gawking at?” The agent jerked onto her hair, his fire-water tinged breath spewing against her face, “Damn it, are you deaf?! Listen to me, you knight fool!!”

Blunt spikes dug into her cheek as a gauntlet slammed against her face. She spat out a hoarse curse, blood spattering from her lips and she venomously fixed a glare at the bloodless grin. Knees immediately slammed to the rocky ground, as the agent dropped her to the ground. Gloved fingers reached to peel away the draped bloodied locks of hair from her face, crooked teeth stretched.

“Now, I can see my punching bag a bit more clearly.” He leered, flicking a strand of copper with deep chuckle rumbling from his throat, “Oh! Look at this blood - So young and vibrant!”

Acrid burning crawled up her throat, eyes dilated in trembling rage. She smacked away the lingering touches, letting wisps of hair tear out from her bloodied hairline.

“Get ya damn mitts out of my hair.” she hissed out, defiance sharply flashing across her glower, “And just get this over and done with, you bastard.” The agent coughed out a surprised laugh, flexing the stained brass reinforcers with eager clicks. He stepped back as he pulled the flask from his jacket and popped its lid off, swinging its contents down his mouth. He wound in his fingers into an anticipating fist while he drew it back. Bracing for the impact, she closed her eyes as she tightly held her vision in her bleeding hand.

“I’d rather die remembering the lifetime we spent together, than not recognise your face when I see you again.” - - - YIPPEEE finally was able to finish this phew. Anyways say hello to Seiren, my chaotic little limb-hogging treasure hoarder! She's one of my older guys, she's been in my brain since 2022! She's one of Rai's old friends and I can't wait to yap about her, about her wife and about her daughter, and also yap about the whole Aster's Oath. She's one of the characters who are highly important to the main storyline! (Yes I did look at the genshin treasure hoarders and went what if murderous lesbean. and yes that is how she was birthed) Ok lols I'll stop rambling, but please keep an eye out for her in future stuff! :D

-> Got the drip marketing background from @/chie_zuu on twitter!

[sometimesiwriteangst]

Soul Mates Are Forever - 1

Summary: Emile gets odd messages, and his boyfriend and brother get concerned quickly, for good reason,

Note: Deceit is called Desmond in this fic. Yes, for once he has a normal name in a human au of partially mine!

Chapter TW: Kidnapping, stalking, u!Virgil, u!Patton.

AO3 Link

Written with @scenecipriano!

Tag List: @samuel-the-gay @alik-gl

-Present Day-

    Emile was getting fed up with the odd messages. Every time he blocked a number, they returned with a new number. They weren’t threatening, or anything that made him believe he should go to the police. Just sporadic “hi”, “why aren’t you replying”, “are you there?”

    Probably a wrong number. Or some guy who was given a fake number. At first Emile had tried telling him this, but over the last couple of weeks he’d given up. If he just kept blocking and ignoring, surely they’d get the message?

    He sighs as he turns his phone off, silencing the constant dinging that came from the unwanted messages. Emile glances in the full body mirror and runs his fingers through his pink fringe, a nervous tic he developed when he was a teenager. 

    “Emi! Your breakfast is getting cold, stop worrying and get down here!” His boyfriend calls from down in the kitchen. 

    “I’m coming, Roman!” 

    Emile looks into the mirror once more and gives his reflection a reassuring smile, ‘Everything was going to be okay.’ 

    The smell of coffee and eggs fills Emile’s nose when he steps into the kitchen, he chuckles when he sees his boyfriend swaying to the melody of a Disney song that was playing from his phone’s speaker. Emile sneaks up behind the distracted redhead and places his arms around Roman’s waist, earning a squeak from the taller man. 

    “You’re the cutest you know that?” 

    “I do! I actually hold the world title of being the cutest man alive, now you need to sit and eat. You’re not going to work on an empty stomach.” Roman replies as he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Emile’s mouth. 

    Emile chuckles as he sits down at the table, taking a sip of his coffee as he does. “What would I do without you, Ro?” 

    “Starve, considering you can’t cook.” 

    The young therapist in training rolls his eyes as he scoops a bite of eggs into his mouth. 

    “Wrong, Dee would feed me plenty.” 

    “Until the two of you get into an argument, then you’d have to rely on fast food.” Roman teases as he sits next to Emile with his own plate of food. 

    Emile sticks his tongue out and drinks more of his coffee before shoveling the rest of his eggs into his mouth. He quickly chews and wipes his mouth with a napkin before pressing a kiss to Roman’s cheek. 

    “Speaking of arguments, I’m going to have to take the bus this morning. Apparently calling him a ‘reckless’ driver was insulting.” 

    “Desmond Wickham a reckless driver? Please, going eighty through a residential is his default setting, it’s only reckless if he goes ninety!” Sarcasm drips from Roman’s mouth as he bites into a piece of buttered toast. 

    Emile snorts in amusement and shakes his head, “Of course, but I better go. I’ll text you before I go in.” 

    Roman quickly snatches his boyfriend by the waist, causing Emile to bend down slightly allowing Roman to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

    “Be careful, my precious rose, I love you.” 

    “I love you too, prince charming.” 

    Emile adores the way Roman still blushes at the nickname. They’d been dating since High School, with only a short break at college before Emile missed Roman too much and begged for a long distance relationship. And yet the man still got flustered over the nicknames Emile found for him.

    In a way, it was ridiculous, and Emile’s brother would happily say that until the cows came home. But Emile knew Desmond liked Roman really, and more than anything it was sweet. It reminded him of when they first started dating, and everything was new and experimental.

    It was hard not to adore the reminder of how Roman would blush every time they held hands, or squeak at every chaste kiss. They may have grown and become more mature about those things, but the small flusteredness over nicknames remained a soft spot.

    “How did I get so lucky?” Emile asks. 

    Roman’s blush deepens as he buries his face against Emile’s side, causing the pink haired boy to laugh. 

    “You’re such a sap, Emi! Get out of here before I decide to keep you to myself for the day.” 

    Emile chuckles and presses a kiss to Roman’s fiery red hair before stepping out of his boyfriend’s relaxed hold. 

    “I’ll be home around eight-thirty, want me to pick up some pizza for dinner?” 

    Roman waves his hand and gently shoos Emile away. 

    “I don’t mind cooking, besides I want to be better than Des at it one day, so I need the practice now go my precious rose.” 

    Emile steals another kiss before rushing to put his shoes and coat on, “I love you, prince charming!” 

    A satisfied smile comes to his face when Roman lets out a flustered squeak, he leaves with a high pitched ‘I love you too’ following him. Emile hums softly to himself as he strolls towards the bus stop, he would try calling Desmond around lunchtime and make amends. 

    “I should really think about getting my license…” 

    Emile huffs as he pulls his phone from his pocket, he turns it back on and is met with constant dings from the same random number that was texting him this morning. One message sent a chill racing down his spine. 

    ‘Pink is definitely your color ;).’ 

    That was the last message that was sent, Emile jumps when the roar of the bus’s engine snaps him out of his shock. He puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a deep breath, ‘They’re not talking about me, it’s okay I’m just overreacting.’ Emile tells himself as he counts out the right amount of money for the bus fare. 

    He flashes the bus driver a small smile as he pays the fee, the driver tips his hat and closes the door as Emile moves to sit in the back. 

    ‘It’s still going to be a good day, it's okay.’ 

    A part of Emile no longer believed that thought. 

    He tries to ignore thoughts of the text as he plugs his earphones in. There was no need for him to worry about odd texts. He’d never had strangely personal texts like that before, why would they start now? It was probably aimed at someone else, like all the other texts.

    You seriously still believe that? Come on, let’s stop kidding ourselves.

    Emile ignores his inner voice, choosing to focus on the song that was playing, it was Stronger Than You from Steven Universe. He tenses when the song is cut off with a new text notification. Emile takes a breath and opens the text, his blood ran cold. 

    ‘I can see you, that’s my favorite cardigan of yours that you’re wearing.’

    Emile looks up and scans the patrons in front of him, no one looks out of the ordinary, everyone minding their own business other than a mother who was struggling to calm her infant down. 

    ‘Who are you? Please leave me alone, my brother is a detective!’ He texts back. Emile watches anxiously as the three text bubbles appear and disappear multiple times. His mouth goes dry when the dreaded reply comes through with a chime. 

    ‘I’m your saviour, my precious bunny.’ 

    He forces himself to breathe upon seeing the message. That was creepy, yes, but it was fine, right? There was no way he could actually see him.

    ‘Is your phone background still that guy dressed as a cartoon character?’

    Emile breathes deeply and looks at his phone background. Roman had taken him to a comic con, and had cosplayed as Prince Zuko from Avatar The Last Airbender. Zuko had never been Emile’s type, but when it was Roman? Hot. Burning hot, one might say.

    He frantically texts back with ‘no, it’s the gay pride flag’. A lie, but that was fine, right? There was no way this stalker - that’s what it must be, right? - could know for sure.

    He gets the next message within a moment.

    ‘Liar.’

    His heart races as he breaks out in a cold sweat.

    ‘I’m not lying, it really is the gay pride flag!’ 

    The reply was almost instant, Emile’s hands were shaking as he read over the text multiple times. 

    ‘Funny, because to me it looks like a pretty red-head with blue eyes, with a shitty white foundation on and a crappy looking attempt at a burn scar. Prince Zuko right? From Avatar The Last Airbender? Gotta say I didn't think he was your type.’ 

    Emile scans the bus again, everything once again seems normal, no one standing out, only the mother with the infant was finally relaxed with the sleeping child resting against her chest. 

    ‘Leave me alone, if you text me again I’m going to my brother.’ 

    Once the reply is sent Emile immediately blocks the number, cutting off all contact with his apparent stalker. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he could handle this, he didn’t need his brother’s help right now. Surely with the threat of telling his detective brother, ‘You don’t really think Dee would believe you? He’s got better things to do than worry about you.’ 

    Emile winces at his inner voice, ‘That’s not true…’ 

    “Hey, Emile! This still your usual stop or were you planning to go somewhere else today?” The bus driver calls back to him, it wasn’t odd for him to know Emile considering the bus was the young therapist’s most used choice of transportation. 

    “Sorry, Greg! I was just lost in thought!” 

    Emile quickly stuffs his phone back into his coat pocket, he walks briskly down the bus aisle, giving Greg a small wave as he steps off. He takes a deep breath and puts on his serious face. 

    “Time to get this day over,” he mumbles as he makes his way into St. Joseph’s Behavioral Health centre.

    Emile puts on a calm smile as he walks inside, the cool air from the air conditioning fanning his face. Emile was a therapist in training, or well that’s what his boss says. He’s a therapist, only the health centre wasn’t hiring new ones yet, so he landed the job of being the psychiatrist's assistant until a therapeutic job was open. 

    Emile couldn’t wait til that day came, he had so many ideas on how to help his future patients. Most of his ideas involved cartoons but others involved other methods like journal entries! He would let his patients tell their stories in a fictive kind of way, giving them a fun time with therapy and a more comfortable way to talk about their problems! 

    “Emile! Finally, thought you were going to be late, follow me.” A feminine voice beckons from across the lobby. Emile looks up and sees the familiar dark face of his boss, her brown eyes crinkling at the edges as she flashes him a smile, her ebony hair let down for once instead of being held back in a tight bun. 

    Emile nods and walks over to her, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she marches down the hall ahead of him. 

    “You seem in a chipper mood, Caroline, did Marcus finally pop the question?” 

    “Very funny, Picani, but no. I’m in a chipper mood because one of my patients agreed to let you sit in during their session! I’ll be asking your input on things they should be doing to handle their depression, I think you’ll get along with them you two act very similar.” 

    Emile blinks his green eyes in shock, he stares at her for a moment waiting for her to laugh and say ‘gotcha!’ But it never came and Emile couldn’t help the huge grin that stretched across his face. 

    “Really!?” Emile squeals. 

    Caroline chuckles as she stops in front of her office door, she turns to look at him and nods. 

    “Really, I finally get to see just how good you think you are, rookie.” 

    Emile stifles his excitement when Caroline opens the door, he takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. ‘I can do this!’ 

    He closes the door behind him once they step in, Caroline’s office was the biggest in the health centre, with a mahogany desk and black leather chairs. Sitting in the chair on the left in front of Caroline’s desk was a man a year or two younger than Emile. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, not as blue as Roman’s they were a paler shade, while Roman’s looked more like sapphires. 

    The man wore glasses with a black square frame, a light dusting of freckles over his tanned face. Now, Emile wasn’t one to judge anyone on their clothes considering his outfits choices consisted of baggy sweaters and cardigans, but this guy looked like one of those commercial fathers with a standard blue polo, khakis, and a cardigan or in this man’s case, a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders. 

    Emile flashes the man a polite smile and offers him his hand, “Hello! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, do you how do?” His smile widens when the man chuckles at the reference he made. 

    “Spongebob ref, nice! I'm peachy, Dr. Picani! My name’s Patton Holter, it’s nice to meet you!” 

    The two shake hands, Emile’s left wondering where he had heard that name before. 

    Within an hour Emile had learned just about all there is to know about Patton Holter. Patton was born on January 19th, 1985 and he has a twin brother, he was adopted by his two father’s when he was five, and he has been struggling with depression since he was sixteen. His methods of dealing with his depression were taking antidepressants along with talk therapy twice a week. 

    “You could try journaling, my boyfriend has depression and keeping a journal usually helps him, only he makes up characters and uses them as a way to vent,” Emile suggests. 

    He notices a change in Patton’s blue eyes, a type of recognition and malice at the mention of Roman.

    “I’ll give that a try! My brother writes songs, he’s got anxiety problems and writing out depressing lyrics always seems to help him, but I’ll try story-telling. It might be fun!” 

    Pride swells up in Emile’s chest, ‘I’m actually helping someone!’ 

    “Well, seeing as you liked Dr. Picani’s idea we’ll give it a try, Patton. I don’t have any blank journals right now, but I should have one by the time you come in this Friday, is that okay?” Caroline asks. 

    “Of course! I can’t wait for the two of you to read what I write!” 

    Another hour passes before Patton’s session is up, Emile stands when Caroline does, offering his hand to Patton giving him a polite smile. A cold chill races down the young therapist’s spine when he notices how cold Patton’s baby blue eyes looked. His smile was sharp and dangerous instead of the playful smile he had on earlier. 

    “See ya soon, Emile,” Patton says as he tightens his grip on Emile’s hand. 

    Before Emile could reply, Patton was out the door leaving him and Caroline alone in the office. 

    “Well, you’re better than I thought, Picani. Good job!” 

    “Thanks… Do I get to sit in on the next one or?” 

    “Fraid not, kid. You can help the nurses give out medicine and get everyone situated, then after that paperwork that needs to be signed. Think ya can handle that?” 

    “Of course!” 

    Emile and Caroline bid their farewells as he closes the door to her office. Emile stops mid-stride down the hallway and turns to look back. He could have sworn he saw a wisp of grey fabric going around the corner. 

    He shakes his head and chuckles softly to himself, ‘I’m just paranoid after those texts.’ 

    He sets off to go find the nurses, which at this time of day would be in the old building. A few years ago the hospital had a donation big enough to make a new building, where they did most of the important procedures now. But the old building was still in use, and Emile hated it.

    The only way to get to it was through the back entrance of the new building, follow the path (which was in an awful state), and then unlock the side entrance of the old building. And with his recent creepy texts, he really didn’t want to be out of sight. Just in case.

    You’re being paranoid, it’s fine.

    With a deep breath he heads out the door, down the path, trying not to catch his foot on the worst of it. He’d heard of nurses breaking things on the path, and whilst they could just be rumours, he didn’t care to turn into a rumour himself.

    He rounds the bend, and pauses, hearing something behind him rustle. What if…? No, ridiculous. He turns to see a cluster of bushes and chides himself. Of course bushes would rustle. Most plants do, if there’s enough of them.

    He turns back, humming softly to himself as he approaches the side door, only to freeze at the buzz of his phone. He tries to ignore it, but it buzzes again, and he hesitantly reaches for it.

    “I swear I turned you off,” he mutters, but sure enough, it was on, and he had two texts.

    ‘Hey Bunny.’

    ‘Behind you.’

    Emile turns quickly, looking around desperately and tensing up. Plants, plants, door, car…

    “...Damn, they really got me there,” he mutters, “...I knew I was being-”

    A cloth is shoved over his mouth as he gasps, and he internally curses himself for not staying aware as he realises someone is now behind him. Emile struggles weakly, trying to tear the hand holding the cloth away from him, with no luck.

    “Just sleep now, bunny.”

    I...no…

    Emile is out before he can fight back any more.

    Desmond sat in his car with his seat lounged completely back, this was how he normally spent his breaks. Just taking naps inside his car, well he had other ways he spent his breaks but Alvin wasn’t there today. Desmond cracks his left eye open when the radio strapped to his side comes to life. 

    ‘I need any available officer to visit St. Joseph’s Health Centre. A nurse called in saying something about a patient escaping again.’ 

    Desmond quickly snatches his radio and presses the PTT switch, “I’ll go, I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

    ‘You could be in here doing your paperwork, Wickham.’ His boss cuts in. 

    “What I can’t hear you, you’re breaking up, captain!” 

    He shuts his radio off and fixes his seat, Desmond knew he was going to get hell for ignoring the captain later but oh well, it wasn’t like that was anything new. Besides, him taking this gives him the chance to apologize to Emile and let him know that he’ll be picking him up later. 

    Desmond sighs when his phone begins to ring, he accepts the call and puts on a fake cheer. “Captain! Ya know it’s dangerous to be on a cellphone while driving sir.” 

    “You’ve done it plenty of times, so I know you’re not worried about it. You can’t keep putting this paperwork off, Desmond.” 

    “Yeah, I know but the assistant I hired will handle it tomorrow. It’ll get done, now let me handle this issue, alright?” 

    The captain sighs. 

    “You and your brother got into another fight, didn’t you?” 

    “Maybe…” 

    “Alright, fine go make up with him but you bring your ass right back here afterwards, got it?” 

    Desmond rolls his eyes, “Yes sir,” he drawls as he hangs up on his boss. 

    Desmond presses his foot the gas, surging down the residential road, funny this was what led to his and Emile’s argument. ‘I really hope he’s okay…’ The last time they got a call about a patient getting loose Emile had gotten hurt. Getting smacked with a bedpan was not a fun experience for his little brother. 

It wouldn’t have been fun for the patient either if Emile had let Desmond have ‘talk’ with them, but Emile said that it would look bad on his record if he assaulted a mentally ill patient. What? He’s got a temper sue him!  

Desmond slows down when the health centre comes into view, he furrows his brows and narrows his blue and brown eyes. 

“Odd… There aren’t any nurses out looking this time around.” 

He pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park, before he even has a chance to step out, a nurse rushes over from inside the old building. Desmond blinks when her face went from fearful to utterly heartbroken. 

Tears gather in the nurse's brown eyes, “I… I’m so sorry… I-I should have gone out when I saw someone behind him. I'm so sorry!” 

“Hey calm down, alright? I’m sure we’ll find Mr. Stevenson, he never goes far.” 

The nurse lets out a sob, Desmond twitches at the sound but forces himself to calm down. 

“I-It wasn’t a patient! I-I told them… I-It was your brother, somebody took Emile and I couldn’t see their face, I am so s-sorry!” 

All the air was knocked out of Desmond, ‘Somebody took Emile…’ 

Roman paces the living room, his phone clutched tightly in his hands waiting for Emile to send him a text message or to at least call him. He checks the time, fifteen past nine, Emile was supposed to have been home almost an hour ago. 

Roman feels his stomach drop when there’s a knock at the door, he quickly walks over to it and swings it open. 

Desmond stood on the stoop with his hand raised, ready to knock again. Bi-coloured eyes meet blue, they’re both silent for several minutes before Desmond speaks up. 

“Emi’s missing.”

[impossible-rat-babies]

I’ve wanted to write a confrontation between Dimitri and Cullen for ages now, so here we are!

—

Dimitri knew better. He knew he needed to know better, but matters would rarely get better if never spoken about. Even if the discussion of such matters were the furthest thing from comfortable. Dimitri never fancied himself to be a weak man, one given to the empty pit of fear in ones stomach with it’s gaping maw, but he would be a liar if Cullen didn’t incite some of that deep down. He blatantly tried to ignore it, but when his memories crowded against the front of his head, reminding him of seeing and seething at Cullen standing in the Gallows courtyard--willingly blind and deaf to the abuses below his feet--composure was difficult.

The same sort of feeling tossed around in his stomach and ached in the soles of his feet carrying him towards Cullen’s office. The bridge from the tower to the main keep of Skyhold was crawling with scaffolding and workers just as the rest of the Keep. All of it alive with construction. A new base of operations for a Andrastian force that an elvish mage now commande. He tasted the irony of it on his tongue each time he spoke, just like the sting of the title of Herald of Andraste thrust upon him. 

His feet brought him to the door of Cullen’s office and he firmly knocked, straightening his shoulders despite the flare of constant pain. A pain he’s too familiar with.

Cullen’s voice beckoned him inside and Dimitri stepped in, closing the door behind him. He stayed poised, eyes darting about the room, surveying. The other door was less than ten strides away, a movement he could do in a few seconds if required. Cullen stood behind his desk. Good, it would take a minute for him to get out from behind it. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like having to watch his tracks, but old habits died hard just like him.

“Inquisitor?” Cullen inquired and Dimitri stepped away from the door.

“You asked me here?” Dimitri replied, smoothly tucking his hands behind his back. Cullen didn’t look at him even standing before him, eyes fluttering about his space, nervously never settling. Dimitri waited, counting to ten before he spoke.

“Commander.” He spoke, tone sharp and chiding. “I didn’t come here to listen to silence. Spit it out.”

Cullen nodded quickly, clearing his throat. Dimitri starred at him, cocking a brow. Cullen cleared his throat yet again and Dimitri held back a sigh, tapping his foot on the stone floor.

“Yes, yes...I, uh, wanted to speak with you on the the matter of...how you do not appear willing to talk to me.” Cullen finally spoke, trying his best to hold back the nervous turn to his tone.

“An astutely true observation.” Dimitri droned idly, shifting from one hip to the other. 

“You have a reason for it?” Cullen asked and Dimitri bit the inside of his lip. He knew he never hid his disgust for Cullen, only maintaining civility because it was professionally required of him.

“I do and it is such that I do not like you, Commander. On a personal basis.” He explained and Cullen held back a sigh as if he had been anticipating it.

“May I ask why?” Cullen asked yet again and Dimitri let a sigh slip along with yet another secret. He could hardly keep them to himself it seemed these days and he despised the fact.

“I was in Kirkwall, for a time before the rebellion began. I worked within the Mage Underground, but it hardly took my work with them to see the abuses of the Gallows.” He admitted in a sterile tone, lip quirking. “Frankly, the work took me directly to experiencing those abuses.” He swallowed hard, but hid it well, hands clenching tightly behind him. He glanced at Cullen, seeing his thoughts clear across his face, the conclusions he easily drew.

“Inquisitor--”

Dimitri lifted a hand for quiet, pulling it back behind him before Cullen saw him trembling. Cullen obliged, but his hands tensed on the pommel of his sword. The magic crackled beneath Dimitri’s skin and he took his own deep breath. Focus. Wait. No need for that.

Yet.

“I did not come here for you justifications, Commander. I do not want them. You asked for my reasonings as to why I do not delight in your presence and they are presented before you. Regardless if you meant it or not those years ago, the point still remains that you did not stop what occurred--what you by default allowed to happen.” Dimitri spat out, unable to hold back a glare and a curl of the lip.

“I didn't want what happened.” Cullen spoke quickly through gritted teeth.

“What you wanted didn’t stop what happened.” Dimitri bit back, standing firm.

“I am not the same person who was like that!” Cullen insisted and Dimitri’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look away, not even as Cullen raised his voice.

“You aren't that same person? You’re not the same person who consigned people to torture in the dungeon of the Gallows?” Dimitri asked unable to stop the bitterness in his tone.

“I wasn’t aware of such...not until after it had happened, until I couldn’t do anything.” Cullen responded and Dimitri breathed out, but his grimace remained. Cullen’s hand clenched right on his pommel, the leather of his gloves audible in the stiff silence. Neither one of them keen on giving in.

“Do you trust anything I have to say?” Cullen asked honestly and Dimitri scoffed dismissively, rolling his eyes.

“Hardly.” Dimitri droned. “I do not trust you at all.” He answered flat and emotionless.

“After everything I’ve done in the Inquistion—your Inquisition—I have yet to earn your trust?” He hissed and Dimitri’s jaw tensed, wiggling his fingers at the charge of lightning beneath them, rippling and less than a breath away.

“The history between us far outstrips our time here and I have every cause and reason to believe the man who stands in front of me now is hardly different than the one in the Gallows.” Dimitri held back other words that burned in his chest, ones just behind his teeth. He could spit them out, dozens and dozens of words to make his pain known, to let Cullen know how much angry boiled underneath—how much of it was fear.

“I am not that same man.” Cullen declared once more, but Dimitri only heard the words, nothing more, nothing less. An empty statement.

“How then? How are you a different man? A change of heart is a beginning, but it matters little in the face of how you still talk like that man.” Dimitri pointed out helpfully.

“I am not that man, Inquisitor.” He insisted like it should be the only answer he needed.

“That does not answer my question, Commander. How are you not that man?” Dimitri didn’t hold back a sneer. Cullen looked away, fidgeting in place.

He took a deep breath in the heavy long pause, gripping the pommel of his sword tighter. “That man wouldn’t have come here, wouldn’t have joined the Inquisition.”

“But yet you still hold to the idea of Mages being unable to care for themselves and their own problems, looking to Templars for control. We are not so helpless.”

“With the Breach, circumstances are different! The Veil—“

“I am not stupid, Commander!” Dimitri snapped. “I know the way it feels, the way my magic responds to it! Any mage would know, for the love of the Creators!”

“Do you wish me to have trust in the Mages?!” Cullen raised his voice in response, incredulity dripping from his mouth.

“Yes!” Dimitri answered just as readily and voice just as raised. “Creators, a trust in our abilities to tend to our own, to know our magic and how to deal with it in ourselves and others is not so hard of a demand, Commander! Templars speak of control, not of protection!” Dimitri bit back the bile taste in his throat of words he wished to say yet again. Templars were—are—controlling, angry, prideful, arrogant, deceitful, and abusive...a small list from the top of his head.

“Trust not lightly given, in the wake of a war not too far past.” Cullen snapped back.

“A war of circumstance, a rebellion more like it. A war that is justified!” Dimitri countered, breath harsh.

“Is any war justified?” Cullen huffed and Dimitri sighed, rubbing his temples, turning to pace back and forth in front of the desk.

“We’re the Inquisition, Commander. A war brought us about. A rebellion that was needed; Kirkwall wasn’t an exception, but the standard of abuse. I was there, saw it all with my own eyes. I spent time in those dungeons below the Gallows, taking that which was given unto Meredith in her paranoia.” Dimitri spoke, gripping his shirt sleeves tight even as he paced.

Cullen’s lips narrowed to a thin line of disbelief, but Dimitri spoke up before he could counter, spill more excuses from his bloody lips.

“Did you know that blood lotus when breathed in large quantities can induce extremely intense and life-like hallucinations?” Dimitri asked and straightened up, pausing his pacing.

“The effects are well documented yes...” Cullen spoke hesistantly and Dimitri breathed out.

“As such, it can be used as a powerful tool for torture and interrogation? Used to weaken the resolve of many? A tool which Meredith used to her delight?” Dimitri spoke as he slipped off the brace around his left wrist and undid the buttons on his sleeve. He easily pushed the loose fabric up, exposing his skin to the cool air.

There laid a sight few had seen over the years, a carefully guarded sign of many abuses. Marks he didn’t bear only on his own.

His forearm was littered in deep, round puncture scars, not unlike the way teeth sank into flesh, tearing and bringing blood to the surface, all of that pain self inflicted There were dozens and dozens of the scars up and down his skin, disappearing further up his sleeve to further mark his skin.

He twisted his arm, more of the scars shining in the light, but the worst shined the brightest.

A mass of scar tissue, running wide and deep along a majority of where his wrist met his hand. It shined and puckered in the light—red and angry still—and his wrist crackled with each movement. It took little to image the pain of it now, much less the infliction of such a wound.

“Escape attempts are messy when it feels like there are maggots crawling under your skin and the only way to stop the feeling is to try and tear them out with your teeth.” Dimitri spoke quietly, buttoning his sleeve back up, slipping the brace back on, smoothly negotiating his wrist back into the place it should be, not the ruined state he had left it in.

He shook away old sensation of blood cascading into his hair—running rivulets down his back—from his wrist pinned above his head. The sound of blunted metal scraping and tear his flesh and tendons away, cracking away at bone slipping from his ears. The repetition of the sawing motion too familiar in his right hand for comfort.

Cullen stood silent, white in the face and lips, features almost gaunt. Dimitri breathed in deep to steady his own self against the threat of memories blooming across his mind’s eye.

“Did you know what went on below your own feet, Cullen?” Dimitri didn’t look up at him, but the silence was enough for Dimitri, whether shame or confusion, it didn’t matter. He took a deep breath in and out, closing and opening his eyes, staring sightlessly down at the desk.

“Think on what stopped you from putting an end to the torture you allowed. The world has no room for those who fear to do their duty to their conscience.”

Dimitri declared and he cleared his throat, turning and slamming the door behind him.

[loyalservants]

( Continuation | @scldsouls )

     perhaps mairon had forgotten that he was the one who allowed her to grow this strong, he was the one who had brought her to the darkness and allowed it to consume her completely, turning her into his most trusted lieutenant and the one morgoth trusted with everything. there was a certain rage in his dark blue eyes that was boiling whilst he glared at her –––– the rumors were true then. she had grown fond of the fëanorian and morgoth saw naught but an opportunity to PUNISH him for the dreadful events that were bestowed down on him, to force him to pay for his father’s crimes and causing him to limp for the rest of his eternal life. that had been not only a physical strike, but also an emotional one. his pride was struck and the hatred for the fëanorians grew like a wildfire spreading as it consumed everyone in it’s way. nonetheless, the dark lord lingered in silence and he knew that mairon would understand that lack of words. when he was raging he did not speak, he acted. gaze pierced through her soul and he could tell that she was lying.                                                              SHE WAS LYING TO HIM.

     how dared she growing fond of their mutual enemy? allowing him pleasantries when morgoth was occupied with more pressing matters than her toy? he gave her maedhros so she would destroy him to pieces, shatter him from inside out and not to shelter him. even if the vala felt his blood boiling and the RAGE screaming to burst, the calmness lingered… it was naught but the calm before the storm. stepping up from his throne, morgoth took slow paced steps towards her, one hand gently lifting up as two fingers gently caressed her cheek, slowly going down to her throat where his hand gently placed itself around it. 

     ❝ if that is true why are you so nervous? ❞ his voice was low, a seductive tone, a LIE to snarl her in the web he was carefully building around her. ❝ perhaps the fëanorian has extended his stay here in our kingdom, would you not agree my dearest? ❞ hand begun to squeeze her neck tighter by every single word he spoke. ❝ perhaps he should return to my care, where i will be certain his back is whipped every single day. or we can feed one of his hands to your precious wargs, what are your thoughts on that matter my dear, loyal mairon? ❞

                                           MAIRON’S knee was  BENT  for her Lord, her head lowered towards the  COLD , dusty floor of Angband’s throne chamber. Her long  RED  hair was reaching that floor, one hand upon beside it and the other was curled into a  FIST  upon her bosom. It was  SILENT  in there, save for the  VOICE  of her King. His voice was not bellowing at all, thought Mairon. He was as  QUIET  and  CALM  as a  HURRICANE  about to form and crash onto the awaiting lands of  PEACE .  DREAD  was building within her as Melkor descended from the throne. 

                                           She lifted her head once Melkor’s fingers found their way upon her  SOFT  cheek,  FIERY  eyes meeting his own  ICY  once. She could not lean towards them anymore without her conscious  COMMAND , for it was not  LOVING  and  GENTLE  as Maedhros’. The redheaded Fëanorárian had offered him his whole  HEART  to her when Melkor loved her more like a  TROPHY  upon his shelf, boasting and used. She  FEARED  whatever may happen to Maedhros and to the little one within her, growing and finding  STRENGTH . Just like how its own  MOTHER  is maintaining her own  MIGHT .

                                           Mairon parted her  LIPS  before she spoke back to her King, voice quietened and low, almost  MURMUROUS . As his grip tightened around her neck, she struggled to gulp in  NERVOUSNESS  and she struggled to keep herself  CRUMBLE  into  WEAKNESS  beneath his hand.    ❝ I am afraid that you thinkest of me so  MEEK  to fall for the Ñoldorin, my king. Physical  TORMENT  shall do naught to the son of Fëanor, ❞   said Mairon, voice collected and  COOL  as if she were indeed merely counseling her King, like how a Lieutenant should be. She was the Deceiver and she will do her title justice. 

                                          ❝ Dost you not see the  FOLLY  in it, my lord ? He is doing well under my  CARE . My  DECEIT  shall break him, I just more  TIME . ❞   She ceased speaking, jaws snapped shut as Melkor’s fingers enclosed around her neck far too tightly. 

[theprojectatedensgate]

I want some fluffy fem!Dep/John... I know that can be difficult because of his drama queen nature but I’m sure somewhere in there he has a soft side

I can provide. 

 The smell of cooking filled the dining area making her mouth water, she sat at the table, which had been decorated and set by him, head resting on her knuckles awkwardly as she watched John cook. Rook was nervous, though she had been at the ranch for a week now, this was the first time he was cooking for her. She had heard stories of the Seed’s cooking from Nick, the watery Mac’ and Cheese that they brought to his barbecue, the description brought bile to her throat and her stomach bubbled in discomfort. She felt a tinge of guilt for judging his cooking without even trying it yet, but she had every reason to be suspicious, He was still the enemy after all

. “What exactly are you making?” Rook coughed up, anticipating his response. 

“Paella. It’s a Spanish dish, I thought I would make something exotic, you’re probably bored of rations by now.”

 Rook sighed with relief at his reply, she had Paella before, it was delicious and very hard to mess up. Knowing she wasn’t going to have to force feed herself macaroni set at her ease and John heard the reaction, turning to face her and narrowing his eyes.

 “Where you expecting something different Deputy?” 

Rook’s eyes widened as she realised she may of caused offence, John Seed was not the person to criticise, he wouldn’t stand for anyone doubting how competent he was. Rook decided to be honest.

 “I admit I was worried you were cooking Mac’ and Cheese, not that I’m questioning your ability to cook.” John raised a brow at her, scanning over where she sat, as if he was searching for something, searching for deceit. 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

Rook spluttered slightly, she didn’t want to say his family’s cooking was awful and there was still the possibility he made it. But he gazed at her almost demanding an explanation. She didn’t want to tell him what was said about it but she couldn’t lie to him either, he would able to tell and she did not want to incite John’s wrath. 

“Oh nothing really, it’s just that…” John cocked his head to encourage her to finish, Rook picked at her nails with nerves. “I’ve heard some stories about a certain barbecue and watery Mac'n'Cheese.” 

John looked at her perplexed before a smile crept on to his expression and he nodded, turning back around to stir the pan.

 “Ahh, Yes, I know of that well.” He chuckled, wooden spoon scraping at the pan. “That wasn’t me though.”.

 Rook scoffed and John turned around with a surprised expression. She shook her head at him. 

“There’s no way you weren’t involved, it’s so you! It’s too petty to be anyone else.” John placed the spoon in the pan and raised his arms in defence at the accusation.

 “It wasn’t me! It was Jacob’s idea, he cooked it!” 

“So you had no involvement at all? I don’t believe it. You have something against Nick, you two have this weird rivalry going on, I’ve heard about all the tricks you pulled.” 

John smirked and looked down at the floorboards before raising his eyes to meet her sneering look. “Okay so maybe it was my idea but you can blame my Brother for that one. Dinners nearly ready.” 

John dished the Paella out onto two plates, before sweeping over to the table and placing the dishes in front of them both. He took seat opposite her, pulling the chair in with a squeak. Rook looked at the meal in shock, it looked heavenly. 

“John, this looks amazing! I never knew how talented you were.” He looked up at them, glowing at the praise. Rook took a forkful into her mouth, fluttering her eyes at the taste. It was Divine. John watched her intently, grinning at her reaction.

 “Just because we’ve had our disagreements doesn’t mean I can’t cook a decent meal, I did live alone in a penthouse for years.” Rook swallowed and blinked up at him. 

“You had a penthouse?” 

“Of course I did. I sold it to buy the Ranch when I reunited with my Brothers. It’s an improvement if you ask me.” 

Rook nodded, agreeing and eating her food. John spent the meal watching her with anticipation as he ate. He had never cooked for anybody but himself before, not seeing a reason to do something so selfless. With the Deputy it was different, he wanted to impress her and he was arrogant enough to know he could. Had he not been so emotionally stunted, he could of been called a hopeless romantic. But a childhood of abuse and a life time of sorrow had diminished any intimate feelings he had, only allowing him to indulge in a life of drugs and sin. She caught his eye in Joseph’s church and at first he resented her for disturbing preparations for the Collapse but Rook’s resilience in his rigorous crusade of her brought something out in him, a selfless fascination, something he had never felt before and he felt entitled to act on it, regardless of Rook might feel. Thankfully it was reciprocated, even if it did take her some convincing to accept it. She struggled and fought at first but eventually came into light and he managed to sink his hooks into her, She hasn’t left his side since. John finished his plate, tapping a napkin against his mouth before watching Rook finish her meal. She had eaten it all and pride welled up inside of him, she ate his food willingly, she accepted him.

 “Perfect.” John breathed, causing Rook too flutter her lashes up at him. 

“The food or me?”

 “Both.” He smirked at her before standing and piling their plates and taking them into the kitchen. Rook blushed at the remark, uttering a small “Thank you” as he waltzed away. He turned back to face her, placing his hands on to the counter top, leaning his weight back onto it. He eyed her curiously and she flushed under his heavy gaze. “You know, Nick’s only bitter because I’m a much better pilot than he is, you’d do well not to listen to him.” “I can’t comment on that. I’ve flown with Nick before, I’ve never flown with you.” Rook shook her head and Shrugged causing John to frown at her. Sure she hasn’t flown with him yet, but she should know he was better, it was John after all and he got everything he wanted. He hummed. 

“We should then, I’ll open your eyes to what real piloting is. Nothing like Nick’s unbalanced drivel. Perhaps I’ll even teach you to fly.” 

Rook tittered at him. How inexperienced did he think she was?

 “I can fly already.” She huffed, folding her arms. John swept over to her, bracing her head in his tatted hands, his blue eyes flickered over her, taking in every mark and pour, callouses pressing into skin.

 “No. I’ll show you how to really fly. The type of flying that makes you invincible, the type of flying that the sky is your arena and the air bows to your presence. The type of flying that brings you closer to God.” 

Rook gazed up at him with doe eyes, he wanted to be the one teach her. No one else. And she would let him have that power, she belonged to him after all. There was no refusing John, if he wanted it it was done. Simple, he always got his way and when something didn’t go as planned, that brought on his tantrums. “But you have to listen to every word I say. And only me, not Nick, not anyone else. I don’t want other people tainting your mind.” He brush his thumb down her cheek and under her jaw, titling her upwards.

 “Yes John. Please teach my how to fly like you do.” She smirked at him now, flashing her teeth in a grin. John grinned back in approval, his grip on her tensing slightly before letting go. 

“Go get your boots then. And don’t take too long. You are not to be late for my lessons, ever.” 

“What? Now?” 

“Yes now. And bring me my Jacket.” 

Rook stood up and sprinted to her find her boots, heart fluttering with excitement. John watched in amusement as she ran around flustered searching. She came back five minutes later, boots on her feet and John’s jacket in folded over her arms. He stirred when he saw her clutching his jacket, possessiveness nipping at his brain. Maybe he should get her to wear it whenever she went out, everyone would be able to see who she belonged to. No one would dare touch her. He filed the thought away for a later date, reaching his palm out as she passed him the jacket. He shrugged it onto him, straightening it out when he did so. Rook watched him with wonder. 

“So you have a plane of your own?” Rook questioned, blinking at him in curiosity. 

“I certainly do. No one flies her but me. Shes my pride and joy.” 

“Does “she” have a name?“ 

“Affirmation.” John confirmed proudly, blue eyes lighting in pride. Rook rolled her eyes. 

“Of course. I dunno’ what else I was expecting” John led her outside and towards the airstrip, his hangar resting at the back of the Ranch. He pushed the door open and turned on the lights to reveal his plane. “Affirmation” was beautiful. Dark, slick, and powerful. Suited to John Seed’s personality. The cult emblem painted white on the sides of it, Heavy machine guns fixed under the wings. His ego taking on a material form.

 “What do you think? She’s a sight isn’t she?” Rook paced over to the aircraft, running her hand along the wing, feeling the cool metal biting her finger tips. 

“She’s Beautiful John. I can’t wait to pilot.” 

“Hop in then.” Rook clambered onto the wing and into the passenger seat, John pressing the button to open the hangar, leaning up to strap her in and place a headset over her ears, then climbing in in front of her and fixing on his own headset.He waited for the go ahead from Rook and when she flashed him a smile in the mirror he started the plane. The propeller roared to life and sped up with ferocity. Rook felt the power of the plane under her feet and she shot a look of of awe at the mirror. John winked at her, pulling the plane out of the hangar onto the airstrip. The dust of the dirty clouding kicked up by the aircraft. They headed down the airstrip, increasing the speed as John pulled back a the plane took to the air and kept rising. Rook dug her nails into her thighs, the take off wasn’t overly smooth, it was rough and a little violent. But she settled as the plane relaxed into a leisurely speed, she glanced off the side, Fall’s End just a bunch of rooftops. They weren’t too high up and Rook manged to compose herself. She looked back to see John watching her in the mirror. 

“Smooth isn’t she? Don’t get too comfortable, we’ve only just started.” with that, he yanked back on the stick, sending them shooting upwards. Rook gripped the sides of the plane for safety whilst John was in complete control. She analysed him through the mirror, elation sparkling in his eyes. John did this for fun it wasn’t all about flaying people and torturing them, the skies were his respite. Up here, he was above all, racing through his clouded kingdom. And he was sharing it with Rook. John forced the plain straight upwards, Rook’s hair pooling around her as he pulled into a vigorous loop. The air buzzed against the metal of the aircraft as they completed the stunt, ending it with a barrel roll. Adrenaline pumped through Rook’s veins as her heart jumped to her throat, Clinging on to her seat. She exhaled sharply as the plane straightened out, John grinning manically at her reflection. 

“Jesus fucking Christ John.” he snickered at her, leaning his head back. 

“How did it feel?”

 “Fun. Scary but fun.”

 “That, my dear Deputy, is real flying.” 

Rook sighed contently, they were higher now, peeking over the side the rooftops had become a blur of lights. The moon shone onto the plane, illuminating its markings. It was perfect just her and John sharing the space together, nothing getting in the way. The War was temporarily forgotten as they soared through the star studded sky, a distant memory that was left on the ground. John had her exactly where he wanted her, she would be devoted to him now. Taking her flying wasn’t just for her, John had wanted to take her since he fell for her. Yet again, his wish was granted, their relationship sancitfied in the pale moonlight. They stayed like that for most of the night, twisting and twirling in the dark. The sun an orange band on the horizon. Rook bared witness to John’s soul that night, the man he truly was, a man full of emotion and vehemence. The War didn’t matter anymore. All they could see was John, there was nothing and nobody else. He might not mention the date again, fear of showing too much of himself. He might even mock her if she brings it up, but she knew it was real, she knew how he felt. Rook wanted to walk by his side and if that meant marching with him through Eden’s Gate, So be it. 

Thanks for requesting! Enjoy some fluff!

[stallithehooch-12]

“When I look back at my life, it’s not that I don't want to see things exactly as they happened. It’s just that I prefer to remember them in an artistic way. And truthfully the lie of it all is more honest because I invented it.” 

                                                                             -Lady Gaga, Marry the Night.

Throughout human history, we have all theorized what emotion it is that drives us to progress. Is it love, hunger, deceitfulness, pride, desire, or even just plain selfishness? Everyone has an answer to the question but for many it’s fear. Fear has been a concept we've been obsessed with since we as humans could write or read or even effectively communicate with sounds. That one emotion has driven us to either be innovators or curl up and give in to existential dread. On November 18th, 2009, one pop star after crashlanding into pop acne decided to examine the topic of fear over the course of 8 songs and changed pop culture forever. Through pulsings beats, dark imagery,  gothic landscapes, and innovative music videos that are nothing short of cinematic. Lady Gaga touched the world and me personally with her EP the fame monster, a pop culture experience that will never be copied and stands with some of the greatest albums ever made.

In 2008 lady gaga was a name that was whispered amongst every single person on the face of the planet earth. She had us dancing and marveling at how amazing synth-pop and EDM music could be and had this flair or controversy around her. If you were cool you loved her and if you didn’t love her you still tapped into her because she was just that compelling. Things for gaga personally however weren’t as shiny as the disco balls she gave us on stage. Whilst touring gaga saw many things, fans, lights, and her name shining every night. However she also faced many insecurities, these insecurities she personified through her own artistic vision as monsters that would plague her. After what seemed like an eternity she finally decided to exorcise them from her by fully packaging them in her music and releasing them in an extended play titled “the fame monster.” The album was a smash in every sense of the word. It debuted on the billboard hot 200 with 174,000 copies sold the first week and due to it being packaged with its first sister album sold an additional 151, 000 album units that week as well The album currently is 5x platinum and boasts a song ‘Bad Romance’ that is 12x platinum.  It remains one of the highest-selling albums of the year 2010 and re-shifted how people looked at the packaging of art, culture, pop music, and fashion.

The fame monster could only be described as a tidal wave of couture fashion, blood, and addictive music.  It was the dawn of the internet age, no one truly knew what the power of the new technologies that were rising up could do and one short Italian artist used the rising influence of social media to dominate a budding pop market and effectively create the modern-day Avante Garde pop female artist.  The videos were never before seen masterpieces of pure artistic genius. From the cold, catholic, Russian-inspired “Alejandro” to the chaotic, capitalist, consumerist, and comedically American “telephone” and even the chic, high-fashion, Japanese-derived ‘bad romance.’ every video was like flipping through a vogue fashion catalog. At a time when everyone was only concerned with fake relatability, gaga made the music video come back into full force. No longer could be sitting by a window while the rain fell to satisfy the mainstream audience. You either came hard or went home. This album brought electronica back to the landscape ‘sadly’ pushing r&b to the side. Even though full-force EDM wouldn't dominate until Rihanna's we found love, gaga opened up the door so that audiences could be receptive to that grandiosity of sound. The 8 tracks included in that legendary project changed everything for the market and to be there was an experience you could never forget even if you tried.

The project was driven by fear and each song tackled a new type of fear. Alejandro was her expressing her fear of men and intimacy, and ‘telephone’ was her bitingly funny critique of commercial capitalist culture. Gaga on that song begged to ask the question, what happens when we get inundated with too much information and isn’t that just funny. In an age where we have too many screens open, so many sources of news constantly bombarding us, to have an artist comment on it before we as mainstream music consumers even saw the question proves the genius of her mind.  Dance in the dark addressed body image issues and how they affect sexual intimacy. The bass-heavy so happy I could die was an ode to addiction and using drugs to numb the painful realities, to be so detached and gleeful that you could die. Teeth interestingly tackled truth and learning how to be authentic and speechless was a heartfelt take on the fear of death.

As honest as every song on this project is. I think the song that meant the most to me was bad romance. Arguably her magnum opus bad romance was a song that combined everything that gaga was, is, and ever will be into one fashionable addictive package. The song contains references to Alfred Hitchcock, the music video was a moving vogue magazine issue. It was high fashion at its peak, and as everyone knows. Gaga paired with McQueen is just an automatic win.  But I think it’s her explanation and the lyrics that hit me so hard as a teenager. “ I want your horror, I want your design, Cause you’re a criminal as long as you’re mine” . as simple as it was that hit me like a truck as a kid. No one knows what it's like to live with insecurity. To hide a part of who you are from people and have them judge you. Have them look at you like you’re not even human, look at you as if one day you transformed from being a child to becoming a beast. Knowing that people have conditional love for you is a hard concept to deal with at a young age. But here comes someone saying that it's okay. It’s okay to feel misunderstood, to be different, that secret you’re hiding might make you beastly but I love that about you. The sickest nastiest parts of you that you despise I will love those unconditionally no matter what. A simple message that went a long way.

And so we arrive here. What do I think gaga was saying about fear? I think she was saying that fear is beautiful in its own grotesque way. You are afraid and things are bad but that doesn't mean it’s ugly, fear isn’t ugly. It may be heart-pounding, world-ending, and seem overwhelming like a monster but at the end of every fairy tale has a hero that slays the monster. Your fear inst something to hide from it’s something to channel and marry, dive deeper into, and get to understand.  Fear isn't the mind-killer it’s a catalyst that makes you stronger.

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

I’ve recently raved about Pitch (please go and watch btw, I NEED A SEASON 2!!), and now I’m going to rave about Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I had watched the pilot when it first aired and while I had mildly enjoyed it, I wasn’t really hooked. Still, it was a show that I had on my back burner for when I had nothing else to watch. Well, that time finally came. I binge-watched the whole thing and I want to yell from the rooftops how amazing this show is! If you can get over the title, you’ll be rewarded. There’s so much that I love about CEG! The main character is deeply flawed and her whole arc is coming to terms with her flaws and overcoming them. She’s deceitful and misguided and self-centered and selfish, but she’s also a poor soul who is struggling with depression and mental illness and who strives to make herself happy. She has the most beautiful friendship with one of her work mates, which is almost like a love story? It’s so real because that’s how women experience friendship with each other. Fighting with your bestie is worse than a breakup, and this show nails that. There’s this cool dude who’s the boss and is super sweet and the best dad ever, and after divorcing his wife and meeting some new people thanks to Rebecca he realizes he’s bisexual? He actually SINGS about his bisexuality, and it’s the most beautiful song ever? Anyway, there’s so much to love about this show, but the thing I like the most is how real it is in a way that few shows are. What’s more, it’s real while being funny. It’s real about tough things - like self-loathing and depression - and it nails exactly how we feel when we are going through all of that stuff but it makes you laugh about it! Which is so precious! And yes, sometimes it’s just ridiculously funny. Anyway, to give you a taste of why I can’t get over how awesome this show is, I made a list of my favorite songs so far...

1. You Stupid Bitch – An ode to self-loathing and self-hatred

You ruined everything You stupid bitch You ruined everything You stupid, stupid bitch You're just a lying little bitch who ruins things And wants the world to burn Bitch You're a stupid bitch And lose some weight

2.  Oh My God I Think I Like You

My feelings get stronger every day

I'm like a little girl, not in a role-playing way

Are there condoms that can prevent these feelings?

Is there spermicidal lubricant that can kill

The fluttering in my heart?

Is there an IUD

That can stop the image of you and me

Getting married on a hillside, surrounded by ducks

And then we get into a rowboat?

3. I Could If I Wanted To - because it’s safer to half-ass everything than try...

Whoop-dee-frickin'-doo, a happy dad

With his big dad calves and his stupid baseball cap

And his T-ball shirt and dumbass son

Throwin' a ball, like it's so important to know how to throw a ball

Whoop-dee-frickin'-doo!

Who cares about throwin' a ball or havin' a kid?

It'll get ya nowhere in life

Not like gettin' anywhere matters

Although I guess it does if you care

Which I don't!

But I could! But I don't!

But I could if I wanted to, yeah!

4. Sexy Getting Ready Song - WATCH THIS. There’s nothing sexy about getting ready for a gal!

God, what This is how you get ready? This is some This is horrifying, like a scary movie or something Like some nasty-ass patriarchal bullshit You know what? I got to go apologize to some bitches I'm forever changed after what I just seen

5. Face Your Fears - yeah, but just... maybe... don’t do what Paula is telling you to?

If you’re scared of bees (If you’re scared of bees)

Get stung! (Don’t have an EpiPen ready)

Reach for the stars (Literally touch the stars)

Face your fears! (Stars aren’t that hot)

Face your fears (Face your fears)

Join the Marines (Join the Marines)

Swim right after eating (Don’t wait 30 minutes)

Cause you are amazing (So amazing)

Wipe back to front (Don't wipe front to back)

Drop out of school (School is stupid)

6. Gettin’ Bi - BEST BISEXUAL ANTHEM EVER!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUDab9piv_U

Now some may say “Oh, you’re just gay Why don’t you just go gay all the way?” But that’s not it ‘cause bi’s legit Whether you’re a he or a she We might be a perfect fit And one more thing I tell you what; Being bi does not imply that you’re a player or a slut Sure, I like sex But I’m no ho I take things slow Until I feel at ease

7. I’m A Good Person - when you want to believe you’re good but you’re kind of a douche?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4hh1YhDfbA

I’m a good person all over the place I cum my good right into your face Everybody says I’m one good ass chick And if you don’t think so you can lick My balls. Which, again, are filled with good

(...)

I’m a good, such a good, real good person I’m a good person through and through I’m a good, such a good, real good person Lemme hear you say it too Say it. Say it! Or I’ll kill your husband I’ll do it! I’ll gut him like a fish You’re a good person Aw, thank you

8. I Gave You a UTI - Weird topic for one of the catchiest songs in the show, IMO

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ytnBRjmDXs

I'm so good at sex Your maidenship got wrecked! My penis is the reason you may die, die, die! I gave you a UTI!

9.  Settle for Me - because we’ve all almost begged someone to love us...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtb-ZPOkMyI

So won’t you settle for me Come on and settle for me Say yes or no before I choke on all this swallowed pride I have no problem being picked out from the bottom If he’s your broken condom, I’m Plan B! So lower those expectations and settle for me

10. You Go First - when we’re in a fight with our besties and we want to apologize... after they apologize first...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzHJlOmuYsY

So... go ahead and say

you're kind of sorry!

'So I can say... Oh, no, no, no please!'

Just like I rehearsed!

If you open the door...

I'll apologize so much more!

Yes I will... But you go first!

11. We Tapped that Ass - best song about anal sex ever okay?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilztSh5Cr2E

On the table you were willing and able!

On the ottoman you took a lot of man!

And in the safe in the closet I made a deposit!

I also tapped that Ass all over this house!

12. Who’s the New Guy? - the meta song about the show self-awareness regarding its characters and plots... 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6zP_LE4HFE

Who's this new character? I mean, he's such a "character" Such a big persona that's not relatable at all.

Do we really need a new guy this far into the season? and by far into the season I mean it's almost Fall.

(...)

Is this some desperate move to try and help our ratings?

You mean our terrible ratings on Legal scores.com?

Yeah!

Will he be here forever?

Or just two or three episodes?

I mean, Karen's manic episodes.

anyway, it’s awesome, go watch it! it’s on Netflix!