#I wish I could reblog this a hundred times in a row

[captain-kit-adventuress]

For those that don’t know, the man in the gif is Russell Barkley, who has spent a large part of his career studying ADHD and is considered one of the world’s most foremost experts in it. He’s also one of the few who actually frame his research in a manner sympathetic to people with ADHD.

no one ever talks about the part of adhd where everyone in your class has got their group of friends and you’re just there, mindlessly tagging along with anyone who is willing to put up with you for a few minutes. either you’re too loud or too quiet. if you’re lucky, it won’t affect you much. you’re a loner, so what? but then the moments come around where you find yourself yearning to be like the others. you’re not depressed, why would you be? you’re a child who just happens to be a little different. sure, you’re usually the last choice when it comes to groups and you’re rarely, if ever, invited to birthday parties but… it’s alright. everything is fine. or is it?

[inknopewetrust]

𝐔𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐝 [𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮]

summary: grief puts those in its grasp in precarious positions: those of loyalty, and those of spite and those with love, well, they flounder amongst the hurt. [WC: 1.8k]

pairing: stewy hosseini x fem!roy!reader

warnings: angst, exes to lovers (potentially!), language, vignette on grief and love lost.

quick links: masterlist [a/n: possibly part I of a small vignette series of stewy and fem!roy reader. thoughts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!)

Entombed in marble, the note reverberated throughout the church in poetry. 

The scaffolding of grief had been built. Sitting in rows for as far as the eye could see, a family rested scorched amidst the sorrow. 

You felt like a stranger in the room. 

The suddenness of pain revels in the commonality it inflicts. A sweeping, precipitous moment of immense breadth swallowing the weak for what they are: people. 

And the people inside that room—ornately defined by cultures and individuals who gave so much to a city where one human can overtake and limit their worth— were flooded by an insurmountable loss that could only be explained by the static of a draining phone and the choppy voice of your sister’s estranged husband. 

Those two words, simple, rolling off his tongue with difficulty and a wish that the call would drop and everything would go back to the way it was before he walked away. 

“He’s gone.” 

The tone in his voice had remained buried in the darkest parts of your mind. You felt as though you could hear it clearly as the small conversations of visitation began to settle and you couldn’t bear to look at the center of the alter. 

The sudden ringing in your ears suffused every sense you were able to muster in that moment. 

But your ears rung. Manicured hands began to shake and tempted you to stand and run away because grief worked in silly circles. The disbelief that something could occur so quickly, the naivety of realizing that the world was suddenly different than the one that existed before, and the pain of faltering to the idea that even if he was Satan, he was still your father and grief felt indebted to it. 

It was lonely, grief. 

Even while hundreds of people spoke of their condolences, loneliness of death weaved itself into your bones and pulled you underneath the surface where bubbles of hope had long ceased. Everyone from Gerri to Colin to Frank to Karl, each face with the same look staring into your eyes with a pity you asked not for but knew belonged in your heart all the same meant little when the world felt tipped on its axis. 

And for the cruelty of the man, it was difficult to understand.

Kendall was holding his life together by a thin and shallow thread and remained so as the priest wallowed on about the supposed amazing man Logan Roy was. 

But even with an estranged family, Kendall was never as lonely as he appeared to be. He wasn’t like you. You, left alone to fiddle with your hands as Shiv sat without Tom and Roman sat beside Conner and Willa. The paper between your fingers became crinkled—the only partner you had in a moment like this. 

And how you wished it wasn’t the case. You wished you weren’t some lonely pretender who sat sorrowful at a wretched man’s funeral but there you were... strangely obliterated by the idea that life can turn in an instant and the Aeneas of an institution can vanish without so much as a goodbye.

It felt comical and tragic at the same time—the poets of civilizations past would be aching to tell a story such as that. 

And Kendall had reiterated such on that fateful day on the yacht because those who would write biographies were watching. Those who would ultimately shake their heads and scoff at the compounding confusion of losing a belligerent soul and making it appear as though a Saint had passed. 

Whatever was to be done in the moments following the death of the patriarch, history would be watching. As much as you hated the idea of history looming over the raincloud high above you, he was right. The institution built by Logan Roy did not need to be littered with the historical fact of the middle, forgotten child losing their sanity at his funeral due to loneliness that had, in truth, nothing to do with Logan dying but the unity death brought with it. 

However, you could argue, Logan was the crux of that loneliness. He had fostered it, just as well as your mother had when she left the four of you to fend for yourself against the vultures. Now Conner, Kendall, Roman, and Shiv all bask in that same attitude as if was normal to be a carbon copy of the most antithetical person to ever exist. 

You hated that being in the room; sharing the same last name, and sitting beside them meant you were likely no different. 

And that is why you could never have what the world granted everyone else: happiness. 

Loneliness was the path of salvation for those with the last name of Roy. Happiness, or love, whichever one truly came from the actions that preceded it had become foreign for decades of the power hungry struggle of men and women before you. 

It radiated throughout the room like Godzilla’s goddamn rays when the priest had ushered his final prayers and you couldn’t even put your hands together and bow. Beside Kendall, Shiv had extended her palm to rest on top of his as they prayed like the good servants of God they were, and you wished someone had sat beside you and done the same even for split second. Conner had Willa, Shiv still had Tom in the small capacity that she did, and Roman was so beside himself with romance that even he couldn’t admit that he needed someone too. 

How you ached for a hand to grace yours; how you yearned for someone to place an enduring kiss on your temple and say that they loved you even if you couldn’t believe the truth behind it. 

So the loneliness of that vacancy simmers. 

The cynical heart hears the organs begin to play and your siblings rose from their seats as it was time to pretend that you enjoyed the service and you wanted the sympathy of others as they shook your hand and gave you hugs outside of the church. But you didn’t want those hugs. You didn’t want those hands. 

You wanted one hug. You wanted one pair of hands. You wanted one sympathetic moment and one sympathetic kiss and pretend, for one simple moment, that nothing had changed. 

Dad wasn’t dead. Waystar wasn’t floundering in a shallow grave and the maggots of sheep herding to its demise wasn’t going to come next. Sorrow didn’t exist. You weren’t alone—hadn’t been alone. 

Across the aisle, donning a black overcoat and three-piece-suit, the simple moment waited. There was little that could have been done feeling maimed by actions unseen but it had been five months of radio silence between you both. One car ride home and the whole thing imploded like a fucking rocket ship.  

The congregation stood in solemn stature as the row of family filed out first. Kendall, followed by his small brood, then you. 

You took one last look at the coffin that held the once formidable Logan Roy. 

Flowers resting on the top, the flag of Scotland draped over it. 

For a man so powerful, the weakness of death was hard to ignore. Wilting away in a box for the rest of eternity while the world continued to spin without him. And yet, there in that room and within your own heart and mind, Logan Roy was twisting a footprint of pain deeper than it had before. 

Dad died without anyone truly loving him.

You did not want to die like your dad. 

Stewy Hosseini was a lifeline. He was a chameleon of couture culture and finessed fashion but within the idealized image of an investor, there was a man who cared for the people who couldn’t say the word ‘love’ or ask for help when they needed it. 

Stewy Hosseini was a good man wrapped up in a world that had people one step from going over the ledge but always looked for a solution to solve it. He was a good friend of Kendall even if the stubborn prick never noticed it when it mattered. He was a charming bastard who did lines in public restrooms and put his feet on conference tables during important meetings. 

He was the only one to say what he meant without ever getting burned by it but left you shriveling to ash in the corner. 

Stewy Hosseini was that solitary hope. 

As you looked away from your father's casket, you were frightened by the realization that what was once an outlet for relief had become something to depend on. That five months of absent feelings created a void of indescribable pain that found an outlet in your father’s demise. 

You weren’t lonely, no. You were filled with a love that shouldn’t exist with someone who shouldn’t have looked at you the way he did and the yearning for comfort only exacerbated the want. 

Maybe he should have taken the deal on Paxos. Maybe he should have said yes, that the package that was tied with a perfect little string matched the black little box that sat in the drawer beside the bed but he didn't.

As you turned toward the aisle to follow the precession, you couldn’t even get your eyes to cast forward because he was right there. Across the way and a row down beside Sandy in his wheelchair and Sandi in her Hillary Clinton pantsuit. 

You clutched the program tightly in your hand. Lip trembling, you watched your feet take you away and there was a second in time where you were alone before another hand inched its way into your palm and around your hand. 

Some people would never know the absence of love. 

They would be grown into it with a kind mother and good family that loved her because they were an innocent child who was not afraid of being the hand that met a lonesome one in the middle of a grand church.

Shiv’s hand crept into yours as the memories of Ewan’s harshness, Kendall’s stoniness, and her fierceness waddled to the background.

Her eyes met yours and for a minute of the day, you felt seen. 

And down the aisle, Stewy wished it was his hand comforting your own. 

One where he could trace a finger over yours and feel the ring that was supposed to sit there. He could hear the Phantom in that cathedral now:

'You've been asking me for three fuckin' years son so yeah, I'll even throw in my goddamn blessing if that makes you so fucking happy.'

Maybe he should have said yes and everything would be different.

But a Roy would always swallow their pride in moments of need and Stewy Hosseini would always chase the money. There were moments before: a bliss, a fight, a phone call. And then there were moments after: a funeral, a short escape, and a board meeting. But the seconds that lingered in between those events were always shroud in the belief in the former:

A Roy was a Roy, and a Roy never floundered until it was too late.

comments, thoughts, and reblogs are always appreciated. thank you for taking the time to read my lil 'ol fic.

Tagged: @mini-ranger @prettybirdi

[belphegor1982]

Third vignette of my “Extreme Measures”/“Ouroboros” missing moments :o) Still very spoilery for season 5, natch. As usual, I’ll include a link to AO3 in a reblog, so it shows in the comments.

Jigsaw Pieces

Chozen, uneasy

Daniel, adrift

Amanda, sleepless

Sam, shaken

Johnny, fixing things

Daniel, not alone

Amanda resists the urge to check the time on her phone. Time means nothing when you’re flying between time zones. The plane left Ohio at 4AM, and after a five-hour flight it will be 6AM in LA when they arrive. She might as well be travelling through time.

She does, however, steal a glance at Anthony a few seats away. It’s easier and more discreet than craning her neck to check on Sam, a few rows behind her. She’s antsy about the three of them being split up like this, but they were lucky to find a redeye at all and beggars can’t be choosers.

Anthony is sleeping soundly, his face turned away from her, toward the window. Sam spent a long time scrolling on her phone, but the last time her mother saw her, the fatigue and the late hour had taken their toll and she had fallen asleep, too. Most of the other passengers have. The sounds of snoring punctuated by occasional snorts can be heard under the AC and the dull roar of the motors.

Amanda doubts she’ll even doze off in the next few hours. There is too much on her mind to let her sleep, even though she knows she’s well past the age where she can afford an all-nighter without feeling like crap for a couple of days afterwards.

Two recent conversations are playing in her mind on a loop, overlapping each other: her long talk with Jessica, interrupted by a bar fight and later continued over a glass of wine after Sam and Anthony went to bed, and the phone call with Chozen around midnight that is the reason she and the kids are now on a plane, somewhere over Missouri or Kansas.

“Silver really did everything to isolate him,” Jessie said, her eyes sad, “while making Daniel think he was the only one who could help him. Every time I saw Daniel he had fresh bruises, or hurt his foot, or his knuckles were all raw, but he brushed everyone off, even Mr. Miyagi.”

Amanda’s breath stilled in her chest.

“You mean… Did Silver ever—”

“No,” said Jessie quickly, before wincing a little. “At least I don’t think so. But he manipulated Daniel into believing this violence was what he needed, and that’s… In hindsight, a grown man using that kind of psychological torture on a kid not even eighteen years old? What the hell, right?

“And when the truth came out and Daniel went back with Mr. Miyagi to train, he kinda just… shut down for a while. Concentrated on karate a hundred percent. I had to come back home and I knew he was safe with Mr. Miyagi, but in hindsight I wish I could’ve stayed for the tournament. He needed to see he didn’t have just one person in his corner, especially with that horrible man across the mat.”

Chozen was more succinct, but something about the news he’d delivered echoed Jessica’s words.

“Daniel-san got angry with man on Silver’s payroll. Went back later to apologise.” He paused for a second, inhaled a sharp breath. “I should have come with him, not left him alone. Silver ambushed him.”

“Ambushed?” Amanda asked, an edge in her voice, making a conscious effort not to speak too loudly to avoid waking up her mother in the next room.

“Hai. He was lying in wait. Threatened your children, taunted Daniel-san, and attacked him.”

This time there was a definite catch in Amanda’s voice when she asked, “Attacked him how? What did he do to him?”

“I don’t know yet. Waiting for news from doctor at hospital.”

The next minute, she was firing up her mom’s ancient desktop computer to look for overnight plane tickets to California, still on the phone with Chozen.

She had never intended to leave Daniel, not for good, not even at the height of her anger as she packed her bag after the fiasco at the charity auction. Sure, she was furious with him and his obsession with Terry Silver; the way he made it sound, sometimes, the man was an evil robber baron and Daniel the last honest sheriff west of the Mississippi. But she needed time to cool off and, she figured, he needed the wakeup call.

The thing is, this is not the first time that Daniel has cried wolf. Amanda has seen him fixated before – on Johnny, on Kreese, on anything directly or indirectly approaching Cobra Kai – though never to the point of obsession. After a rough start Johnny turned out to be a flawed but decent human being Amanda found surprisingly easy to get along with, and while John Kreese is much more dangerous than she initially thought, his bad deeds eventually caught up with him and landed him in prison. Good riddance. He’s given her the creeps since the first time she’s seen him and really understood what Daniel, Johnny and especially the kids – all of them – were dealing with.

Terry Silver, however, was soft-spoken and charming, repentant about whatever he’d done in the past that Daniel wouldn’t elaborate on, and had firmly condemned Kreese’s actions and general… Kreeseness.

And despite her own mistrust of the man, Amanda fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Sure, hindsight is supposed to be twenty-twenty, but how could she watch the man she loves – the man she’s lived with for the past two decades – vibrate with fury as he stared at Silver, and think “rivalry”, not “fear”? She knows every nuance of Daniel’s smile, every crease of his eyebrows, all the different ways his hands flitter and flex, and she couldn’t look past the grudge and see the victim?

Daniel has never made any secret of the fact that he was bullied as a teenager, quite the contrary. But that’s different. Johnny and his little Cobra Kai gang were peers, for one. And there is an endgame to the way he’ll talk sometimes about trying to slip fresh bruises past his mother’s notice or getting run down a steep hill on his bike, almost some kind of moral to the story; it comes down to I was bullied, and karate (Mr. Miyagi) saved me. Like the second part softened the memories, somehow, or at least made the first part liveable. Balance, in a way. But the second Johnny resurrected the Cobra Kai dojo, that balance swiftly went out the window and Daniel went from being a somewhat grounded reformed hothead to knee-jerk responses to the lightest provocations – and from a layered but ultimately uncomplicated man to a jigsaw puzzle with critical pieces missing.

It’s not even about Johnny himself, no matter Daniel’s claims in the beginning. It was clear, from the moment Amanda saw Johnny Lawrence for the first time, he and Daniel making each other murder eyes over raised fists in her otherwise tranquil patio, that Daniel was too annoyed by Johnny to be afraid of him.

And now she knows it’s not fully about John Kreese, either.

The most shaken she’s seen Daniel so far was that night last December, when he stormed out after they found their home in shambles and their daughter rattled and hurt. He came back bleeding, tiny shards of glass still clinging to his hair, with the news that the kids of the Valley – and, incidentally, their family – would finally be safe from Cobra Kai if his and Johnny’s students beat Kreese’s at the next tournament.

He was still, then, almost calm, but she’d spotted the remnants of terror lurking in his eyes. She just hadn’t really understood the reason for that until even later that night, when they were holding each other in a hotel bed with the kids sharing the next room.

“I almost killed him,” Daniel murmured, and her eyes popped open in the dark. “He was choking Johnny when I got there, and he’d sent those kids after Sam – I was so angry – he was holding a piece of glass and he said I’d…” He paused, then continued, “I disarmed him and he was down, and I almost killed him anyway.”

Amanda swallowed and tried in vain to calm her racing heart. There was a lot of unpack there.

“But you didn’t, babe,” she whispered back fiercely. “What could have happened doesn’t count, okay? Our family’s safe, Johnny’s safe, the kids are safe – even the wannabe Rambo lunatic is safe, no matter how badly I wish we could’ve shoved that damn snake up his… gi.”

It was a half joke, and in poor taste at that, but Daniel’s little huff of laughter against her collarbone and the way his shoulders relaxed slightly was a victory. Neither of them slept much that night, though.

In retrospect, he wasn’t scared of Kreese as much as of himself that evening. And the tentative friendship between him and Johnny has done both men a lot of good, even after their partnership fell through.

No, Daniel only truly started to unravel when Terry Silver waltzed back into his life. And unlike Johnny’s rough and tumble attitude, unlike Kreese’s blend of physical threat and manipulation, outwardly Silver was grace and elegance and magnanimity. Look at me, he seemed to say in everything but words, how harmless I am, how polite and refined. How rude and unreasonable this silly little man is being.

It was only on the plane to Ohio that Amanda realised – belatedly – how patronising he was being beneath the veneer of affability. And it didn’t hit her until later that he wasn’t patronising to her, but to Daniel.

She thought that being a woman and working in cars, especially from a managerial position, taught her everything about being talked down to, sneered at, or sent away with a metaphorical pat on her head to fetch ‘someone who knows his business’. She’s so used to having to smile while checking for cracks in her armour that it never occurred to her that her husband could present a more vulnerable target.

And on top of everything, that abusive piece of shit threatened their kids?

Amanda takes a deep breath, shoves back down the fury, the fear and the guilt – again – and turns in her seat to check on her son and her daughter one more time.

They’re still asleep.

Good. There’s a long way to go yet.

______________________

(see you in a couple of days for the next one? 💜)

[visd3stele]

synopsis: cursed in a magic circus, king Hal loses his crown. He is willing to believe any curse can be a blessing when it brings him to you.

tw: magical au! talks of poisoning, talks of creepy old men, attempt sa

a/n: don't forget to let me know what you think: asks, reblogs, messages, comments, whatever feedback is welcomed, cherrished and encouraged <3

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME THEY KNOW WHY KING HAL'S HORSE IS NAMED TINY HORSE, I'm begging

A galloping circus

When the moon begin her slow ascend on the still lit sky, one can feel a thimble in the air. A shift in the waves of air. Colder, harsher, agitating the sea and the ocean in a call to help their queen. And as the tides spiral 'til the stars to tickle them awake, the Masters of the night spread their limbs and smile a toothy grin.

One such Master is the First Star. Born from Lihtnighte and the Moon, coddled by the moms and gaped at and admired by the whole suite, the First Star learned to love its beauty. Worshipped by the humans for the light it offered, as bright as a second sun in the midst of shadows full of lurking beasts, the First Star learned to play with them.

It visited often on the Land. Amongst humans, unlike any other Master. Bored to no end, the First Star decided to stir up some fun...

"But what's fun for an immortal isn't fun for us, mere humans." You whispered under your breath, cementing your annoyance with a swift roll of your eyes. The horse you were tessellating neighed his agreement. He moved his head stubbornly against your comb when you approached his hair, meaning to braid it before the show.

The circus master gave you a stern look and repeated the last sentence to anchor himself in his speech again. The entire tent was witness to chaos and havoc below its curtains. Just like every time you visit the duke's domains.

You paid no mind to the story. You knew it by heart already. All people do, part of the circus or not. The First Star created it to amuse itself. At the beginning all was good. People presented their talents, made jokes, put plays in place, danced and singed as they did when celebrating the other Masters of the night.

But one human dared to question it. The First Star was too laid back, keeping people from their work days and nights in never ending rows; and thus harming their society. Taking great offense at the mortal, the First Star cursed her and the circus. Frozen in time, forced to perform for eternity in its name so that anyone else can move forward like the daring woman wanted.

Which is why the humans of the Land religiously respect the Bright Circus. Wherever it goes, every night it performs, the tent captures the unique light of the First Star, shining like a diamond on the ground.

You were a bit odd in this picture, though. You joined the circus willingly a hundred and seven years after it was made. Running from a marriage you wished no part of, fooled by enchanted promises and silvery lies.

The First Star appeared to you one night, startling Nightsun, your favored horse. A wild stallion none of your father's stable boys could tame. He bowed to you, though. The little lady y/l/n who would rather feed the horses and clam the hay than sit through manner lections and dress fittings.

It led you to the Bright Circus. "I've been watching you, miss y/l/n. I think you would be a marvelous addition to my Circus."

Indeed, you were. Your number was easily the most impressive one under the cursed tent. And despite the scary tales of the First Star's wrath - very clearly showed by the heavy pregnant woman that wiped the seats after the public left (the woman who dared go against the Master of the night that fateful day, you later learned) - you knew no one would go against its will. If the Star wanted you, the Star shall have you.

So, you traded a cursed destiny for another. Two hundred years you did the same thing, every night. Performing mostly for the depraved rich. You started your number alone in the middle of the sand circle that separated the Master of the night's puppets from the free public. Then, like a lightning against the night sky, Nightsun would come running in. Stardust caught in his caramel hair, moonbeams glistening off his soft light-brown skin. The effect that earned him his name, a sun in the night, shining bright enough to catch the First Star's eyes.

From here, you would improvise. Years of sneaking in the stables and hiding in the woods for moments of freedom taught you many things. To chase boredom away, you'd climb the horse and dance on his back. Or play around with Nightsun, on and off his saddle free form. Legs thrown in the air while your upper body supported you safely on Nightsun, a slow waltz alone on his back, twirling and jumping around and on the strong mustang... it all pleased the immortal star.

One day, though, another odd one stepped on your stage. A boy around your age... or rather the age you were before the curse froze you in time alongside the people of the Bright Circus. He was tall and lean, his hair cut carelessly, shorter on edges, cupping his face with wild curls. He walked with his head held high, even though his shoulders seemed to drop down on each step.

Hal. No last name, no middle name, no backstory. A boy brought in by the First Star one afternoon as mysteriously as it took you. All the boy owned was a beautiful horse that kept close to her master. A high mare of the deepest browns you've ever seen; one white strike split her face in two, completing the etheral image the horse made. Her, and the clothes on him.

You have tried guessing his life story from them, the dusty clothes he wore every night, washed in the river each morning. No luck. The fabric was simple, but lasting. A loose green shirt paired with a coat so long and light in weight you couldn't find it a practical purpose and tight black pants. Nothing to indicate the wealth. He could have been a smaller nobleman, a richer bourgeois or even a peasant dressed from well sewn patches of his master's old clothes. It was practiced by your father's servants.

Or perhaps even a duke's son who ran astray and found himself in an impossible situation. Your frustration with Hal only grew by the day, with his silent demeanor, reserved personality and loneliness. But you couldn't deny the excitement that rose in yourself with his arrival. No more were you alone under the scrunting gaze of a cruel public. No more were you alone, standing out against the family the first in the Circus created.

"Nervous?" He asked from the box next to yours. The First Star's magic fit inside the Bright Circus everything its inhibitors needed to please the viewers. Everything you did was to please them. And regardless of the story of the Circus' origins, they still seemed to have forgotten the pain and sufferance of people stuck in time for eternity on the whim of an angry immortal.

"He speaks," you teased friendly. You had gotten used to Hal and his antics: keeping mostly to himself when the group gathered around the fire after the show, eating alone on river's benches or with his horse in the stables. Venturing around the tent as often as he could.

A wanderer such as yourself.

One time, within a few days since he came to the Circus, you followed in his steps. It was the day you finally connected, a bond so sudden, so unusual that it could only strengthen shortly into an unbreakable one.

"What secrets do you hide, Hal? Could you be a changeling, spying for the Fae Queen? Or, even better! Perhaps a Forest Spirit."

The young man eyed you then. He let his gaze roam you, truly taking you in for the first time. Hal's frown unknitted his wrinkled brows and light touched his shadowed face unlike never before since you met him. Even a small tug of his lips fluttered at the corner of his mouth.

"Shouldn't you be more afraid if I was?"

"Oh, absolutely not! I hope you are, for I cannot make sense of you and that would be such a wonderful explanation."

He rose one brow, turning his whole self to look at you. You noticed an upside down Y shaped scar on his cheek. And you added it to the list of things you knew about your partner. A name, a secretive personality, expensive clothes, but unlike any noble's and an unknown wound on the side of his cheekbone. Such a great, useful list!

"Most people would be afraid of these beings. Even the ones who don't believe in their existence."

"But I'm sure they exist. If our Masters of the night are real, so can our folk tales. I would like to meet one. Or all. There can't be a whole world invisible to us full of only awful creatures."

A small smile graced Hal's lips, so genuine it took you by surprise and bewitched your mind and soul for a second or more. "Perhaps not." And you got the feeling he meant more that the stories that scare kids to sleep and serfs into labor.

"What's her name?" You asked when the silence became too much.

Hal smirked. "Tiny Horse."

You burst out laughing, all the pent up stress and curiosity flowing free in chimes of absurd happiness. The young man looked at your closed eyes, mouth wide open as your chest heaved with each laugh, head thrown back as you knotted your fingers in your horse's hair to keep from falling. And warmly smiled.

"Only when I have something to say. But you knw that already."

"That I do," you leaned from Nightsun to peak in Tiny Horse's box where Hal begrudgingly adorned the mare's mane with feathers and shiny stones, polished to look like authentic jewels.

"Don't worry about me, Hal. I'll survive. The horses, though..."

Hal scoffed. "I hate them. Whom do they think they are to demand how we or our horses look when we perform?!"

"A very influent duke and his court," you sighed as another scoff echoed from the boy.

Tiny Horse and Nightsun beat their hooves on the ground restlessly. A pained look passed both of your faces. All the ornaments itched the poor animals' quite badly. You and Hal had to stop your number for weeks after a visit at this duke's estate. You'd let the horses run free, bathing them, tessellating and sleeping in their boxes to make sure they're not sick.

"Why are they called nobles?" Hal mumbled. "There's nothing noble about them."

As always, there was that mysterious fog clouding his speech. A vengeful longing barely hidden. As if his past was haunting him still and Hal, bitter about it, felt trapped in his powerless state in the Bright Circus.

"The title may have bore some meaning long ago."

"It had no other meaning than stuck up minx lords believing they're better than anyone else."

"Was your landlord a bad man, then?" You asked, hoping to gain some information of his other life, before he danced with you on top of marvelous horses in a magical tent.

"Five minutes!" The pregnant lady, the Maker of the Bright Circus in her defiance of the immortal Star, announced. A shiver ran down your spine each time you saw her. Carrying an eight months babe in her womb for hundreds of years... you couldn't begin to imagine or understand such a nightmare!

When you turned, Hal and Tiny Horse already left.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

After you readied Nightsun, you tipped on your toes to watch the seats fill with well dressed ladies, trailing their gowns behind their tight waists and lords in the softest buffalo leather coats. You didn't miss the days a maid would wrap the corset around your bruised torso until you looked like the fragile porcelain doll you had to be. But the change of the world always made you sigh in wonder.

You would usually sneak under the seats, where the ground was low and created a small hole, enough to easily fit two people. And watched. No matter the public, rich, poor or serfs even, you enjoyed observing them. Comparing how everything was supposed to be in your time and how things evolved.

Sometimes, more often than not, Hal joined you. You would contemplate and comment together on the good and the bad of your realm and how swift the shift was, that the rest of the people who had the privillage of not being frozen in time didn't even notice it.

"I knew I'd find you here." He sighed, slugging his from to fit next to you.

"He says as if I'm the one who always disappears."

"Sorry. I didn't want to see them more than I have to."

Again with the thorny spite against nobles. Instead of prying on his past some more as your mind begged of you, you repositioned yourself to face him.

"Then how come you're here, now?"

"I thought better. Couldn't have possibly left you alone in such moments."

Your heart flipped at his words. And you blinked to spread the piercing warning of tears. You nodded, hoping Hal could tell how grateful you were, dropping your head on his shoulder softly. You raised a hand to cover his eyes.

"See anything?" When Hal shook his head you hummed in content. "Good. Now you can stay with me and not see the stuck ups."

Hal's body shook with laughter. Even though the sounds he made were muffled and barely audible, you embraced the vigorous movement with a happy smile.

The duke on whose lands you were about to perform has taken a special notice in you. He begin with sending his guards to escort you to the noble estate. Everyone knows the Circus disappears at the first stream of daylight, along with its cursed ones. No matter where they were. There was no escape.

You tried to push them aside, conjuring excuses such as needing to bath, wash the horse, feed him and yourself and everything you could have think of. When the duke himself started to press you to join him, he wouldn't take a refusal on your part.

"I'm so very sorry, m'lord, but I need a visit to the river nearby. All that effort and the fire-like light had me a gross mess of sweat and smell."

"My personal bathing chambers are a well deserved payment for your the likes of you."

"Thank you very much, you're too kind. Unfortunately my horse needs to be tend to."

"Don't you have servants to do the job? I am sure the First Star provides you all with every needed thing."

"No, m'lord. I have to take care of my horse myself."

"Then let me lend you some of my stables boys."

"I prefer it if no one touches Nightsun but me. It's better this way. A show horse caring looks different than a normal one."

It wasn't until Hal chimed in that the duke left you be. A demanding dominance adorning him as if he was meant to be listened to and he knew it. And the duke felt it too. But he would always start anew each time the Circus stopped on his lands.

Hal has proven to be a rock for your sanity in the decades you spent together. And you suspected - or at the very least hoped so - that you gave him some sort of comfort as well.

"I- I didn't have a landlord." He whispered after some time. Your hand still over his eyes. Better this way, perhaps. If you could see the green entrance to Hal's soul, he might close to you again.

You remined silent. An encouraging brush of your nose against his shoulder the only sign you were paying attention.

"I was raised at Court. The royal Court. Surrounded by so called nobles. Disgusting men like this duke. I learned to see their true faces."

You muffled a yelp of surprise at his words. Never in your wildest assumption have you thought Hal might come from the King's palace.

His body tensed against your feather light touch. "What happened?" It was the question that conveyed all your curiosities. Though you weren't content with it still.

Hal let out a mocking gruff of laughter. "What happened? They poisoned me. My... the King favored me and I didn't favor them. So they poisoned me."

"The First Star saved you." The words traveled through you on their own accord. An extension of the mind who focused on what it can understand from the pieced story Hal gave you.

He nodded, shifting to face you, letting his forehead drop on your shoulder. Your palm still on his face, but Hal knew your body as he did his own. As you did your own and his as well. When you danced, you never rehearsed your moves from the start. You improvised. Always something new. Never the same choreography. You learned your bodies well. Could feel each other edges and presence even in the dark, even with your eyes closed. And it became an unconscious part of your lives and instincts.

"It came to me that night. I could barely see it, vision blurry with tears and the fog of looming end. I couldn't breath and my own blood tasted bitter in my mouth. That I managed a nod at the First Star proposal is a miracle."

"Do you regret it?"

"Do you?" Hal shot back, raising his had and softly removing your hand from his eyes as he straighten. Back to his usual self, as if he didn't just open up to you more than ever.

"No." You whispered, a sense of betrayal sneaking from the back of your mind.

You hated the First Star and the Bright Circus and what it does to its poor people. But you wouldn't change your answer all those years ago. Because you're not free right now and you will never be, but at least now you can ride, you can dance, you are husbandless and... and you met Hal. You cannot regret whatever choice led you to him. Or rather, led him to you.

"Yeah," Hal agreed, watching the different emotions fill your e/c eyes like a tangled web. "I don't regret living or having all the time in the world to spend with Tiny Horse. I don't regret my life means riding her, dancing... and you." A blush colored his cheeks as Hal pierced your soul with his own. Trembling lashes the only indicative of his nervousness. Gone as soon as you noticed it. Replaced by the suppressed anger so familiar to his gaze.

"But I do regret what has been take from me. What I didn't know how to appreciate as my brother did and didn't want hard enough as my brother did. I could have done so much for so many. Be the man my father wanted because the Land needed it..."

"Shh." You hugged Hal tight as his words turned into whispers and his body convulsed with unshed tears and rage. "Shhh. It's alright." You didn't understand much of his rambling. But you understood the feeling of shuttering guilt for enjoying a new life that hurts so many, the missing of a far away past that hurt and hurts still. And the need to change, to help.

"It's alright. We're both here now. Nothing to do about it. I've got you."

"I've got you." He repeated slower and nodded his head and blink his lids to shake off the tears welled in those mesmerizing green pools.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Soon all the seats were taken. A sea of people fit under the magic veil of the Bright Circus. You and Hal sneaked out of your hidden spot. It was time to take you places and get ready.

The show went on as usual. The kids went first, with their makeshift dolls from corn or wood. With the magic of the First Star they could now bring the objects to life. Orchestrate a play they wrote themselves. Never one the same as the kids, even those frozen in times for centuries, have an infinite supply of imagination.

Then Hlaf, former baker in a life long since gone, would enter the stage. He'd contort his body in such manner he could fit through a ring off a lady's finger. Following suit, Feora and Engel would amaze the public with their wire walking. Such a thin thread of cotton, suspended on twenty meters in the air, the two sisters seemed to fly.

Later came Seax with their blades and Deor with her wild animals, somehow tame to her words. After, Blīþe followed with his jokes. The short man could talk for hours and the people would laugh their breath away. But as all things must come to an end, new ones must begin.

You weren't paying attention to the movement around you. Eyes fixed on the duke, in the middle of the first row. A start coursed through your body as you felt someone's touch at your side. Hal was squeezing your hand tight, hid thumb brushing over the back of your palm in soothing circles.

"I've got you," he whispered. "And you've got this."

A nervous smile trembled on your lips, though a genuine flicker twitched the corners of your mouth. "We've got this."

"Y/n, Hal, you're turn." The First Woman of the Bright Circus spoke behind you. The Show Runner was making your introduction, the same as always: Admired grandees and dear workers, young and less so, folk of the Land, you know our story, but you don't know theirs. Everyone is aware of our blessing, but theirs is a mystery the First Star landed upon us for reason only it can be privy to. But fret not, my darlings, for their talent is undeniable. Majestic. Welcome our marvelous pair of equestrian dancers!

You and Hal rolled your eyes at the same time. Your heart skipping beats, shoulders tensed, forcefully rolled back. His jaws set, muscles pulsing on the beat of his heavy heart.

Nightsun and Tiny Horse entered the sand circle, your stage. In a mist of maroon-yellow dust lifted in the air by their grumpy hooves. The two horses settled their pace, slowing down as they moved in the circle facing each other, distance closing in, in, in...

Hal took off. Fierce. Fast. Like a knight charging into battle. The man hadn't stop a second until his feet gently hit the back of the strong mare. Hal didn't climb up, he jumped. No hands rested on the side of the horse to help him. Just a flex of his knees, a wide jump and he twirled in the air to land gracefully on top of Tiny Horse.

The people, who have been holding their breath, afraid to even blink to not lose a beat of his steps, released the now warm air at once. Then the tent filled with the deep, bearish noise of clapping, sighs of admiration, whistles and appreciative murmurs.

Your turn. Hal is waiting for you. You close your eyes to take the duke's image out of your mind, life your chin and fix your gaze on him. On Hal. The unexpected friend in which you found comfort, affection. Love, you dared name it now, to give you strength. Though you were pushing the feeling down for over a decade. As sweet and kind he is to you, he is still Hal. The cold, privet man who opens up about himself in riddles and so rare he doesn't make sense.

Except... he shouldn't make sense. And in your mind he doesn't. But your heart learned the language of his summer green eyes, the rhythm of his laugh and the beat of his soul.

"Go," she whispered impatiently. And this time her pregnant form didn't sent shivers down your body. You were so light, your body but a feather through the air as you neared Nightsun and Hal. Hal who smiled warmly at you from the just as lovely mare.

Turning to your left side as you reached the perfect spot for what you had in mind - not too close to your stallion, but close enough to work - you leaned all your weight on your left leg. The right one in the air, pulling your body after it. You felt every muscle, every tendon stretch. Then you landed on Nightsun's back with your right foot first, turning to the rows of stunned people.

It happened quick. They needed a moment to understand what they saw. And when they did, another round of heavy tinkle break through your haze.

"Showoff." Hal mumbled jokingly, so low you almost didn't hear.

"Not at all. You simply think so because you are, in fact, lazy today."

"Not lazy. Just... he doesn't deserve my best."

"Mine neither. But the little kids and the tired serfs do, hmm?"

Hal snapped his head towards you, greeted being by your questioning, almost disappointed eyes and raised eyebrows. He sighed. "You're right."

He offered you his hand, pulling you towards him as you swirled in the air until your feet brushed his - both bare - on Tiny Horse. Hal smiled and wiped the hair clean off your face before you tackled him, palms on his shoulders and switch back to Nightsun, right as he arrived to your subtle calling.

You couldn't last more under Hal's mellow gaze. The suave curve of lips welcoming you, reassuring you. You wanted more. You wanted the secrets behind his walls to include a love just as burning for you as yours was for him.

You took one deep breath and carried on. A web of limbs and bodies was made out of you and Hal, clutching tight to each other as you jumped and flew together. As you swayed to music you hummed in harmony, shaken closer and closer by horses beneath you.

Hal would take your wrists in his hands and let you walk the air on Tiny Horse's side as he supported your weight. You shifted your upper body until your shoulder were glued to his and rolled over, knocking some sand where you landed.

Hal moved one of his feet on Nightsun and circled you, proud and glowing like a Master of the Night in one of their chariots. When you could focus, you jumped and got behind him, legs wrapped around his torso as you climbed to sit on his shoulders.

"Get up. On your feet." He suggested for the ending. And you did. You placed your feet on his shoulders and waved to the public as Hal led the horses away. The night was done.

Or so you believed. Hal stopped the small convoy you created at the stables, leaving to get you both and the horses some food as the Show Runner wrapped up with the people.

Sighing in content, you laid your forehead in between Nightsun's and Tiny Horse's. Caressing each of their sides. "All done, my dearests. All done. You did so good. Amazing! I- we are both proud of you. Good job."

The horses neighed, something troubling them. You assumed it was the ornaments and moved to removed the sparkling feathers and golden jewels. But as you took the needed steps back, a thick hand wrapped around your stomach and pulled you behind.

Nightsun and Tiny Horse shifted the weight on their back legs, charging at your attacker. But the duke, as you recognized the piercing smell of a poor attempt to hide the sweat with aromatic plants' essence, moved his arm up until it pressed against your neck and pushed something shiny out front, pointing to the horses.

A ruffle, you realized, bile coming up your throat.

"Don't you dare hurt them." You warned. Though your voice was weak, strangled by the too big arm of the old man.

"Oh, but I don't want, beautiful y/n," he said, stuffing his nose in your hair and sniffing with a pleased sigh. A shudder passed through each and every of your bones as the hair on your arms picked up against the goosebumped skin.

Disgust. Towards him and also towards your powerless fear.

"All you have to do is stay still and let me have a taste for the animals to live."

"The only animal I see here is you." You spat. You knew there was no way you could put up a fight. Get away. He will have what he wants. But the least you could do was make sure it's as unpleasant as it can be. Reminding him of how small of a man he is. How disgusting, useless, pathetic...

A shot. Tiny Horse and Nightsun broke their deffence and whined, the sound scratching your ears. You tried to run to them, but the arm still painfully pressed against your neck chocked you.

"If the bulled touched even a bit of their hair..." you warned, but the duke cut you off.

"They're fine, dumb animals. Getting scared out of a little shot. The bullet went between them, probably stuck in one of those trees. But make no mistakes, I can and I will shoot them if you don't behave for me. Clear?"

Tears picked at your eyes as you nodded. Staying still when the duke relaxed the arm holding you hostage. Folding under his touch as he urged you to lay down, legs slightly apart.

If your parents could see you right now, a stray thought sneaked in. Making such a sacrifice for two some beast, you could hear your mother say. Don't be an idiot, y/n, your father would agree in his usual stoic manner.

Were you? Being an idiot? Should you fight the duke at the expense of your and Hal's horses and actually get away? Could you?

It was too late to wonder such things. The duke let his pants fall to his knees, hovering over you as he begin to undress your lower parts too.

You bit your lip, praying to your body to relax as your mother taught you for your wedding night. Night that never came. She said it would hurt less if you relax. But what about the pang in your heart and the loudness in your head. Thought banging against your skull, a bloody fist pulling at your heart, sunking it down, down, down...

You braced yourself. Lips sealed, teeth closed tight on the inside of your cheeks, head turned to the side in an attempt to see your wild mustang, untamed and free in spirit even in these or your father's stables and Hal's brave mare, strong and powerful. Eyes so fixed in the darkness your vision begin to blur.

And you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing came.

Pushing yourself up on your elbow, you saw the duke's body lying in a wrong position at your feet. Above it, Hal stood cowered by the weight of his rage. His curls messier than ever, curved spine raising dangerously low as his breath hitched, coming too fast. His deep, smart eyes now crazed with wrath, bulged in two perfectly round shapes. In his hand, gripped by long, trembling fingers, a knife shone under the moonlight. Scarlet red blood glistening off of it.

"Hal?"

Your voice seemed to wake him from his fury. He turned your way, features softening on an instant, worry blooming in the spring of his eyes. He was careful to avoid your bare parts, gaze locked only on your face. Looking for signs of shock settling in.

"Yes, it's me." He said carefully.

You nodded. Relief flooded your senses so sudden and with such force, you begin trembling, letting the tears you fought so far fall with loud sobs and ragged breaths.

The brain couldn't keep up with the heart. You were fine. Nothing happened. But the mind struggled to grasp it. Too beautiful to be true. Hot blood pushed against cold limbs. Dried tongue tried to water chipped lips, to sooth the sting in the inside of your cheeks.

"You're fine. He's gone. Dead. You're safe." Hal spoke slow. Pointed. Making sure each of his words hit your ears and understanding.

You nodded. "I know. Thank you." Your voice was yours, but not your own. Changed with the weight of the scare. Rough and gruff.

Hal nodded as well. "I'll see to the horses, if that's alright."

He wanted to give you space. But your blood boiled now, heating every part of your body. Making your brain restless and your body so large, scattered, yet small, so, so small.

"Stay, please."

He stiffened, but did as you asked. Stepping over the corpse, leaked blood staining both of your still bare feet. Hal sat next to you, welcoming you in his arms as you scooped closer and closer until you sat in his lap.

Arms around his neck, his own supporting your back, rubbing it up and down, but never touching lower than your middle. Head hidden in the crook of his neck, breathing his scent as if it was a calming plant. Hal's head rested atop yours, the soft part of his cheek flat against the crown of your hair. Your heart steadied to follow his heart's rhythm. Your mind cleared of anything to let itself be filled with Hal. Only Hal.

The metallic scent of blood beat at your nostrils. You both ignored it, safe in your embrace. Part of your own world now. This one, no other more.

Seconds passed. Hours, days, months perhaps. An eternity and thousands more could have passed around you and neither would have noticed. Content as you were. Peaceful. Happy.

But all things must come to an end.

You tried to remember how it happened. Every detail of those terrible moments. You never were able to. A blur. A fading questioning under the weight of sharp voices and chilling orders. A shape of a distant color merged together from seven uniforms, seven people.

They took Hal first. Clothes still soaked in nappy red. They ripped him from you, limbs webbed, clinging tight to one another. And as they stepped away, finally holding Hal in their grip, you stumbled over him.

You barely noticed when the guards picked the lifeless body up, or when some servants and ladies in waiting caressed with soft words the newly widow's ears, deaf to any consolation.

A passing wondering flew through your mind - would she still be devastated had she known what the duke meant to do to you? - but you had no time to ponder over it.

"Hal!"

"Don't. Y/n, stay here. Go away. The hoses need you," he hoped to convince you. But it's a magic Circus, with magic proportions. There will be food for Tiny Horse and Nighstun and someone will attend to them. After all, the Cursed Ones are good people, a family. And even the animals are part of it.

"Let him go. He was only protecting me."

In another time, you would have known no one would care. You weren't a good lady anymore. Had your mind had been clearer, you would have remembered it. Hal seemed to better adjust to a titleless condition, regardless of the danger looming over him.

Would he be hanged? Can someone in the Bright Circus die? Lihtnighte wouldn't allow it for sure, right?

All the questions bugged through your head as you tried to pry the guards arms off your partner. Your Hal. Even without the love you nurtured for him, you owed him a try. He killed to save you. He is in this messy business because of you.

But you had too little force, exhausted as you were - and the guards, too much. They easily charged you with treason as well, for daring to stand between an act of punishment for a high criminal. Soon, you and Hal found yourselves on a short path to the ducal palace.

The journey there was made in silence. Hal was being kept at the back of the convoy - that turned to be a funeral walk as well - while they held you in the front. Even so, you felt his eyes on you, burning the back of your neck with care and concern. He didn't like the five men between which you were trapped. You neither. But more you hated the vile guards who tied Hal's hands by their horse's saddles and forced him to walk as they set the riding pace to slow gallop.

Hal and you were calm, though. Calmer than two people soon to be judged and executed should be. Everyone found it frustrating. The whimpers of fear, the wobbling lips and running noses, the teary eyes and chocked voices, it all fed the guards the sense of power they need to feel. The entitlement over one's - over many - life.

And they knew, of course they did. You won't die. You won't even catch sunrise in the dungeons. You both will vanish at the first gleam of sunlight. And if death might fall upon you, you both will wake up, well and alive, under the Circus' tents. So was your blessing and your curse.

So the guards seethed. Locked their teeth and hoped the widow duchesse would want to have your pained screams as payment for her beloved husband's death. If killing you was not an option, showing you a faith worse than must do.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

The castle rose dark and tall, a giant's shadow looming over crops and fragile wooden houses in the valley. This particular duke hadn't took care of his servants' needs.

In opposition, the walls of the fortress were thick and standing. Richness as you have yet to see adorned the architecture. Crenels sharp and dangerous barred their teeth to you from above. And a solid wooden gate draped over a deep river, filled with Masters of the night know what beasts.

Inside, a torch lit corridor swallowed the light from your eyes. So used to the night and the soft gleam of moonlight, the beauty of the stars' glister on the blue-black sky, your pupils closed in two small strawberry's kernels.

"I've forgotten how it feel like. Being inside a palace," Hal mumbled at your side. His sudden presence should have startled you, but never again could his voice be anything but calming and comforting.

The guards let you loose, tied up to a rope they carried much in front. Leading you to the duchesse court.

"Such a big noble you used to be?"

Hal didn't speak no more. Set jaws and a shaky breath the only answer you got.

Finally, you entered a golden antechamber. Soon, you'll meet your faith... for now. As the new day must not be far, if you rightly assumed.

"Move." A rough hand pulled you forward, casing you to stumble through the open doors and almost fall on the thick woolen carpet.

You weren't scared, you knew it. But something still stopped your from lifting your head. An unsettling feeling weighing heavy above and around.

You dared a peak to Hal. See if he feels the same. But his eyes roamed the walls in shocked awe. Lining your sight to match his gaze, you looked at the portraits displayed by the yet to appear duchesse. You saw the king who ruled when you were a little girl. His son next to him. Older than you remembered. But then again, you haven't seen the prince as he became King. The First Star made sure of it. The next men were all the same: stoic under the heavy crown, a scepter and a white fur finalizing the royal look. They all shared similar features too. A long and strong line of succession.

The certainty of a unmoving past captured not in stone, but in color and art lulled your brain into a foggy haze. You let it wrap you whole and sush the ringing bells of questioning the unreliable future you had open in front of you.

Until your eyes found eyes you knew so well. Eyes you stared into for ages. That gave you strength, loyalty and love. Eyes that bulked out of their sockets on the face next to you.

"Hal?"

Raised at Court. Favored by the late king. Poisoned by jealous, zealous lords. A brother who wanted it all... It made sense now. Even if you were yet to comprehend. Hal, the boy you danced with, ride with, love. Hal, the silent, smart, stoic boy who hides a sarcastic funny, sensible man. Hal, a King of the Land.

"You...?"

You turned to face him, but he - sheepish - wouldn't meet your gaze.

"You were the King."

A nod. Barely. More likely a bob of his head.

"And now you're not."

Hal pointed to a painting next to his own. So much bigger. So much Imposing. Another man, not as handsome as Hal, lacking the mettlesome, sharp look Hal bear in his eyes, without a benevolent, yet threatening smile like Hal's that gave way to his nature - born to rule, king to his subjects, merciless with his enemies.

"My brother," a small voice like you've never heard from him before spoke through an ocean of howling water. "The one the lords supported when he went after my throne."

His throne. He said it with so much longing, yet too much sufferance.

"Wait," realization seemed to sink in, "your brother, the nobles.. they poisoned you for him? He knew about it?"

Another bob of his head. An even smaller nod. As if strings attached to the back of his head pulled and pushed at the same time. Pain and anger.

"This duke supported them?"

"Likely so."

"Your portrait is the only one polished though."

Hal frowned. He hadn't notice it, but it was true. And it confused him.

But neither you, nor him had the time to elucidate the issue. The doors blew open once more and a short woman, wearing all black from the thin veil covering her face to the flat sole shoes, strode in. She marched to the huge chair, modeled to look like a throne. Before she could sit, however, her eyes slipped on Hal and she jumped as if the seat suddenly burned her.

A yelp echoed in the room, sharp and high. Through the layer resting over the duchesse's face you could see her eyes growing in size, lids hiding in the crests of her wrinkled skin.

"Prince... I mean King Harry, Your Majesty," she bowed so low her headdress brushed the floor's dales.

"Harry?" You mouthed to Hal, trying to laugh off the feeling of betrayal threatening to consume you.

But Hal didn't spare you a glance. An eyebrow raised, straightening his back and raising his chin higher, he waited for the duchesse to get up.

"You call me your king, but you mourn one of my killers."

"Oh, Your Majesty, please! I begged him not to do it..."

"And hanged the usurpator's portrait to shadow mine," Hal continued as if the woman didn't utter a word. Ever since you left with the Bright Circus you stopped paying attention to the more normal wordly things. Such as kings and succession. But you tried to remember now a time when you felt this type of power surging from one of your father's friends or the King himself when you visited the Court. And failed.

The way Hal talked without raising his voice, yet his will spread and overwhelmed everyone in the room... nothing could compare to it. You wanted to be upset, angry with him for hiding all of this from you. Sad he missed and enjoyed this life so obviously much. But you couldn't.

Watching him now, the satisfied curve of his lips, the fire in his eyes, the sweet speech with which he let the words fly... he was always beautiful. A Master of the night in disguise. Now he fit the immortal god part like a glove. And you found yourself falling for him even more.

"And with the money and power you got from it, you torture MY people," this time he let the rage slip in his tone. The duchesse flinched. A bright smile surprised you blooming on your lips.

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry. I didn't want it. This. I had to. I'm sorry. I polished your portrait in the hope you shall return one day. I always believed."

Hal glanced on the clustered window, covered with heavy satin drapes and colorful glass art. He managed to see what you sensed. Dawns of the new day coming soon.

You draw your lip between your teeth. There was no choice to be made, Hal will come back with you, rather he likes it or not. But you watched him in worry still. Bothered by the thought he may not want to return.

"If this is true, Duchesse, then do better than your husband. Govern these lands, these people, better. And don't be afraid to cut the roots of evil, whomever might be so. Your late husband would have dishonored an innocent girl," his voice lowered, eyes dreamy, "if I wouldn't have killed him. It was justice I served, a punishment he deserved. Lose the crape and begin the change. That's an order form your King."

"Yes, Your Majesty. At once, Your Majesty. Oh, this is such a blessed day! All my men are at your disposal, my king. Just giver the order and they'll stand behind you to take back your throne. I have enough friends that have been waiting for your return to form a strong army and..."

"I do no wish an army, Duchesse. As you know, I am bound to the Bright Circus. I cannot - will not - leave." Hal's eyes slid subtly to you, hand reached for a reassuring squeeze. The duchesse missed it, too baffled to pay attention to anything nut her working mind attempting to wrap around the news.

"But surely there must be a way to break the curse. There has to. I will find it, Your Majesty, I swear it to you. I will free you!"

"Only if you break hers too. Y/n's. If I shall be King, she's my only Queen."

'Twas the last thing he said before the familiar warmth enveloped your hugging bodies, taking you to your small new family of centuries, in a another part of the Land.

[tothechaos]

my friend you can reblog this as many times as your heart desires. this isnt twitter. you could reblog this a hundred times if you wanted to. be free.

college students are the most pathetic creatures in the world. source: i am a college student and i constantly have the vibe of a kitten that just got pulled out of a storm drain

[chao-writes-stuff]

DELTARUNE SPOILERS

Heyyy! I wrote a thing involving Jevil and the Chapter 2 Superboss! I'm going to put it under the cut, but at the end, there will also be an Ao3 link if you wanna support me there!

Thank you! Remember to Reblog if you wanna

The Lightner Trio walked down the stairs in the Queen's massive manor, their hurried footsteps echoing like a rough pitter-patter in the technological nightmare. The massive lair confused and bamboozled them, but they definitely wanted to figure out the mystery behind what the Fountains were about, what Queen's true intentions were… and what was in the basement?

"Uhh… Kris?" Ralsei asked, his soft voice echoing out. "Why are we even here? Aren't Queen, Noelle, and Berdly upstairs? And not here…?"

Susie quickly interrupted him, punching his arm lightly to get his attention. "Of COURSE they aren't here. But whatever is here is probably important. Right, Kris?"

"I guess!" The currently blue human replied. "I've been asked by some… guy, about doing these weird favors for him. He really wants me to be alone."

"We sure he ain't a p-" Before Susie could finish her thought, Ralsei muffled her mouth with his scarf. "Who is he? And why does he want you to be alone?"

"His name is Spamton, I think. I don't know much about him, but he gave me this Loaded Disk earlier, and--"

Suddenly, a strange, chaotic voice rang out. Everyone recognized it. The tail attached to Ralsei's cloak popped off, diamonds and hearts flying out with it. The tail spun and took form, and the chaotic Jester they quite literally put to rest yesterday was reawakened.

"Spamton? SPAMTON? The same Spamton who wished for me to go, to go, and be free, free?" Jevil laughed chaotically, with Ralsei caught quite off guard. "You know him?"

"That dorito chip was part of the reason why I was set free, he was! He used to rule this world, before the Queen I've been hearing oh so much about took over. Oh, I MUST know more of how you met that ridiculous lunatic! And that's coming from ME, ME! Spamton, oh Spamton, I'd like to have a word with him~!" Jevil looked quite pissed off, his normally jovial expression looking slightly stern.

"I didn't wanna go down there anyway. Just come back, okay? You're kind of carrying us with your defense boost." Kris, with a neutral expression, gave the clown the disk they were gifted by the malignant salesman, and watched as Jevil immediately sprinted off into the basement. They could hear an echoed "Buh bye~! I'll be back in a few hundred words!" As the jester descended into the decrepit basement below...

Jevil entered the musty, rotting cellar. Despite him rarely stepping on the ground, each step he did take left a haunting impact on his feet. It was silent, save for the occasional rustling of his clothes. He didn't have long to do this. His physical form only had a few hours to be out and about before he solidified, just like the young boy and the puzzle freak. Thankfully, that's all he needed. He was getting excited, almost giddy, to interact once more with his old acquaintance. Oh, what a wonderful conversation they'd have!

He didn't walk for too much longer before he found the train station that was buried deep below. Or was it a roller coaster? Whoever had this built clearly had some elaborate roundabout in mind… too bad they were still imprisoned, haha! Jevil walked and floated across the tracks, reaching a room with a decaying robot inside.

He knew this was a bad idea. But when did he ever have good ideas?

Without hesitating, the joker put the disk into the robot. At first, nothing happened, and he was getting impatient VERY quick. He gave the robot a swift kick in the lower area, before stepping back out of the room.

Step…

Step…

SLAM! The clown was admittedly caught off guard with how fast the silhouette from above came and pushed him onto his knees. With a small gasp for air, Jevil looked up slowly at the encroaching menace. The jagged movements, the glitchy, unsolidified form… this was him alright.

"KRIS… MY LOYAL [Sponge!] THANK… YOU. THE [Clown Around Town!] I REMEMBER YOUR [Disgusting] FACE. EVERYONE WAS SO [Thrilled] TO SEE YOUR [Calcified] FACE." The massive robotic behemoth loomed over Jevil, rage in his glasses. Spamton NEO.

The clown got up, a smug, shitfaced expression on his mug. He knew damn well that the dorito in front of him was pissed off, so he leaned back in the air to retort. "At least I drink plenty of milk, uee hee hee! As for you, you haven't changed one bit since we last spoke~! Or would it be a byte, a byte? Regardless, I do hope you've given up on the illusion of freedom, freedom~! The only one who can be free is MEEE!"

The robotic menace swung around to the other side of Jevil, making it very clear who was in charge of the conversation. A small concentrated blast of Pipis was fired at the jester, pushing him back with a surprising amount of force. "YOU ACT SMUG, BUT YOU [Crashed our stocks!] AND THEN YOU [Spoiled relations with our Esteemed Partners!] I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU… GOT IN HERE, YOU… [Tuna Fish,] BUT I'M NOT FALLING FOR YOUR [Roundabout!] AGAIN!"

Jevil laughed maniacally at this thought. This guy was mad! Over something that happened how long ago? Why even bother holding a grudge still? Petty, petty! He knew why, and it's why he came back too. "You influenced him. That pretty little kitty. You gave him enough funds to release me into that carousel of bliss and innocence! But I wasn't done, not one bit! And all those years, spent being free… they made me realize something, my dearest Spamton."

The oddly calm tone coming from the jester put Spamton NEO at an incredible amount of unease. "WHAT? WHAT COULD YOUR [Calcified Lump] THINK OF THAT WOULD MEAN ANY GODDAMN THING TO ME?"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

The joker used his latent power to pelt the giant mecha with small white hearts. Spamton was caught off-guard, stumbling back a fair amount. Of course, you have to fight fire with fire, so the robot used his abilities to send out a Big Shot of blue Spamton Head Pipis.

"YOU [Saturated Marketshare!] YOU CAN'T SIMPLY ATTACK ME AND EXPECT IT TO WORK [As seen on TV!] I'M A [BIG SHOT!] [BIG SHOT!!!]"

Jevil hopped up onto the ceiling, clearing the first few Pipis on the lower row heading his way. Unfortunately, the higher row caught him clean in the face as he bounced between the two, making a small Jack-in-the-box melody as he pinged around.

"SPAMTON, MY BELOATHED! I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND, UNDERSTAND, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE TRAPPED IN A CAGE WITH A SHARK, A SHARK! YOU GET BITTEN AND CHEWED UP!"

The fool retaliated by running circles around Spamton, turning into a carousel of horse bullets! The robot, in a surprising feat of puppeteering, dodged the attack almost perfectly… until a stray horsie cut a string, sending the mech's right arm into the horse race. One thing about arms with cannons on them? They fire.

As soon as it happened, Jevil was face to face with a swarm of Pipis all around him. He was stuck. All of them exploded brilliantly, sending the clown flying clean across the rotting tracks and into the wall. Tauntingly, mockingly even, Spamton NEO retorted.

"I'M THE SHARK NOW, JEVIL! I'VE CHEWED UP SO MANY [Failed Buisness Partners] THAT I COULD MAKE A WHOLE [Presentation] OUT OF THEM! STAY OUT OF MY GODDAMN WAY, OR [Sparkle like new!] YOU BRAT."

The buisnessman charged at Jevil, his hands becoming phones. "IT'S FOR YOU." Suddenly, before either of them could react, loud blasts of garbage noise manifest expelled from the phones, attacking the court jester with white blasts of energy. There was nothing he could do to stop this robot's onslaught, it looked like.

"OH SPAMTON, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? THAT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S SO POWERFUL RIGHT NOW, NOW? I'D SUGGEST YOU LOOK UP, UP! YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT THOSE STRINGS IMPRISONING YOU, UEE HEE HEE! YOU'RE NOT A BIG SHOT, YOU'RE JUST A LAZY FRAUD WHO CAN'T STOP HANGING ON TO HIM! I GUESS SLEEPING FOR 100 YEARS DOESN'T MAKE LITTLE OLD ME MISS MUCH, RIGHT?"

Without warning, Jevil was myseriously gone from his corner. The spamware looked frantically for his target, before being struck in the arm, the leg, and the chest by scythes. Devilsknives. The last knive cut a few strings clean off the puppet, who briefly hit the ground before rising back up.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! [Hyperlink Blocked.] I'M STILL HIS LOYAL ASSOCIATE! HE MAY NOT HAVE TALKED TO ME IN [Employee of The Month for 144 months!] BUT HE'S STILL THERE…"

Jevil interrupted him cleanly and concisely. "FACE IT. YOU'RE NO BIG SHOT ANYMORE, SPAMTON G. SPAMTON. ALL YOU ARE IS A FAILED INVESTMENT, UEE HEE HEE!"

With those words, a purple blast came from behind the clown, striking the robot right in the noggin. He flew back a bit, giving the joker enough time to turn around to meet his esteemed guests.

"Ah, my imprisoners~! Didn't you guys have a Queen to rock-em sock-em?"

Susie immediately cut him off, as she punched him in the arm (causing his head to spring up, naturally.) "Well, Kris over here couldn't shake the feeling things were off. So they forced us down here, and now they're right. Somehow?"

"I know I'm right.. Jevil, who the hell is Spamton?" Kris replied, their worry about the situation starting to rise.

"It's of no concern to you~! His screws were almost as loose as mine, and I don't think it's my job to tighten them~! Uee hee hee! Thank you for the help, but I can do anything~! Even tell you guys that 3 coasters are about to come down and force you guys along for the ride~!"

Ralsei immediately stuttered something out. "Three… what?"

And just like that, with a loud rumbling, the heroes were swept up into 3 old, rusty carts, barrelling down the track. Jevil laughed to himself, proud of what he got to do. "Ah well, it's a shame I can't finish him personally…"

"But oh well! Are you proud, proud? They took care of him…"

"Doctor."

Ao3 Link!

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt6

hello!! i wanted to say thank you so much for all of your wonderful likes, comments, reblogs, asks, and everything in between!! it really means a ton to me knowing that you guys actually like this story and my writing :) remember that if you have any suggestions don’t hesitate to send me an ask or a message, and pls share if you can!! much love to you all

pt 1

pt 5

pt 7

“Perfect,” he breathed out as his eyes saw the boat. “You hop down first.”

“What? No way! I’m the one that can actually firebend here. You go first so you don’t get hurt.”

“Do you always have to argue with me?”

“Only when your plans are stupid!”

A whisper came through the cell bars. She blinked her eyes open and sat up quickly. “Here to tell me I’m a traitor again?” She called out into the dark. 

“I’m actually here to rescue you but I can call you a traitor if you want.” 

(Y/N) never thought she’d be so happy to hear that voice. “Sokka!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where are Aang and Katara?” 

“It was too dangerous for either of them to come. I snuck on the ship to come break you out.” He jingled a set of keys in his hand. “Got these from the guard I managed to knock out. Impressive, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah, my hero. Now open the door!” Sokka unlocked her cell. She turned around and he quickly made work of her ties. Once she was free, she stretched her hands and fingers, happy to feel the warm sensation of fire underneath her fingertips. “How’d you get onto the boat?” 

“I took a small rowboat and tied it to the mast. If the waves stay calm, it should still be there.” 

“And if they don’t?” 

“I guess we’re in for a swim,” Sokka shrugged. She smiled at him nervously before grabbing his hand and making a run for it. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, but she let her feet lead her anyway. Her goal was to get to the top deck without running into any Fire Nation soldiers. Of course, luck wasn’t always on her side. 

They encountered soldiers at nearly every corner they turned. Luckily, they were so shocked to see the prisoner out of her cell and a Water Tribe boy that they had very little time to react before she and Sokka were knocking them out. 

The pair reached the top deck and doubled over on their knees, breathing heavily. Sokka helped her to her feet and led her to the side of the ship where his boat was. They looked down to make sure it was still there. 

“Perfect,” he breathed out as his eyes saw the boat. “You hop down first.” 

“What? No way! I’m the one that can actually firebend here. You go first so you don’t get hurt.” 

“Do you always have to argue with me?” 

“Only when your plans are stupid!” 

A column of flame shot past the two of them, missing their bodies by only inches. They looked at each other in surprise before (Y/N) quickly hid Sokka behind her own body. She shot fire balls from her hands back at the attacker. The smoke from their attacks dissipated quickly, revealing Zuko. He launched himself in the air, kicking flames at her face. She sent fire wheel after fire wheel at him until he was completely surrounded. She turned to Sokka. 

“You have to go.” 

“No, I’m not leaving you again.” As her back was turned, Zuko rushed towards her. Sokka reacted quicker than she could and used the force of his body to knock Zuko to the ground. She flinched as she heard the breath get knocked out of Zuko’s body. 

Before she could turn back to look at him, Sokka was grabbing her hand and pulling her over the edge of the ship. She yelled as they fell, but Sokka pulled her body into his to shield her from the impact of the water. 

She emerged from the dark waters with a gasp of air and scramble around frantically to find her friend. “I’m right here,” he said. He led her to the boat and lifted her up inside it. She collapsed on the floor of the boat, coughing water out of her lungs. Sokka climbed in after her and immediately began rowing them back to shore, where Katara and Aang were waiting. 

She breathed heavily as Sokka rowed before slowly sitting up. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t like the idea of anyone rescuing me but...I’m glad it was you.” She coughed again and rubbed her neck, her face becoming hot. “I mean, I’m glad you did it.” 

“Even if you do annoy me, you’re still part of our family now. Plus, it’s kinda cool to actually see you use your firebending.” She smiled. “Especially against Zuko, man, it really seemed like he had something personal against you.” 

She laughed bitterly. “I guess you could say that.” It hurt, knowing that Zuko viewed her as a traitor, but it hurt worse knowing what the Fire Nation had turned him into. He was irrational and angry and almost nothing like the Zuko she used to know. 

(Y/N) hated crying, but ever since she had left the Fire Nation, she had been doing a lot of it. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she noticed Sokka looking at her. He stopped rowing to scoot closer to her. “Are you okay?” She wiped furiously at her eyes and cheeks before shaking her head. 

“Zuko and I used to be best friends.” Sokka inhaled a sharp breath. “And we kinda, sorta, were almost engaged.” This time, Sokka let out a whole gasp. “He didn’t always used to be like this, I promise! He was nice and we used to do everything together. I hadn’t seen him in over two years and then when we finally saw each other again...” She gestured loosely around them. “It hurts a lot, barely recognizing someone you cared about so much.” 

Sokka remained silent for a few moments as he stared at her. Then, taking her hand in his own, he tilted her head up to look at him. “I know how much it hurts, losing someone you love. But it gets better. I promise.” 

She smiled sadly. “Thank you, Sokka.” She pulled away from his touch but touched her own face where his hand once was. It felt tingly. 

“Besides,” Sokka said as he started rowing again. “You’re way too awesome to date someone with a horrible ponytail.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t contain her laughter.

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

The adventures (Y/N) shared with her friends happened at almost every turn. They narrowly evaded escape from Admiral Zhao, had visited the Northern Air Temple and flown on gliders for the first time, and had travelled to the Northern Water Tribe so that Katara and Aang could master waterbending. Their trip to the north had resulted in disastrous circumstances. Once again, (Y/N) had to fight against not only her nation, but one of her old friends. It saddened her deeply to fight against people she had once loved, even if she knew she was doing it for the right reasons. 

The battle in the North had strengthened the group’s friendship exponentially. No longer did (Y/N) feel like she was an outsider, or that she needed to tread carefully in what she said to her friends. She was able to laugh around the campfire with them and also make them laugh, like the time she had told them she had accidentally caught Zuko’s pants on fire when they were children. She felt comfortable and, most importantly, she felt safe. 

She developed a different kind of relationship with each member of their small family. Aang, although older than her but somehow younger at the same time, had become averse to firebending ever since he had accidentally burned Katara. He made (Y/N) promise not to try to teach him and resolved that he would take down the Fire Lord without firebending. She knew it was impossible, but he seemed so upset about it that she agreed. Instead, they spent their time together exchanging history. Aang told her what it was like growing up one hundred years ago, and (Y/N) filled him in on everything he had missed since then. Even the small stuff, like the invention of bubblebaths. 

Katara had more than warmed up to her since (Y/N) first joined their group. (Y/N) had really tried to make an effort with Katara, since some part of her felt responsible for her mother’s death. They cooked together, did the laundry together, and even walked into town together when the boys weren’t paying attention. They eventually became so comfortable around each other that she had poured out her life’s story to Katara on one rainy afternoon. After she was done talking, she realized that when speaking with Katara, she didn’t fear disappointment or apathy. Instead, her Water Tribe friend provided her with the best advice she could give, and a hug warmer than any she’d had in the Fire Nation. 

It was Sokka and (Y/N)’s relationship that took the most drastic turn. After their experience in the Northern Water Tribe and his loss of Yue, Sokka quit his small digs at her. He knew that she understood what it was like, to lose someone that you loved. Their time together was no longer filled with snide comments about the other’s upbringing; instead, Sokka had been teaching her how to fight! She knew some martial arts, since it was the basis of firebending, but she had never fought with a weapon before. On relaxed days, they trained together. She taught him hand-to-hand combat and he taught her how to fight with a sword. 

“You’re a fast learner,” Sokka said after one of their lessons. They sat together at the edge of the lake they had camped beside. He used a stick and a piece of string with a hook on the end to create a make-shift fishing pole. 

She smiled at the compliment. “Wish I could say the same about you.” He shoved her and she laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself. You know I can’t give you a regular compliment. It’d go to that big head of yours.” Despite himself, Sokka let out a smile. 

“You’re so mean to me,” he said. “Are you this mean to all of your friends?” 

“Only to the ones I especially like.” She thought back to her time in the Fire Nation. She could do that now, without getting very sad about it. “Back home, I always had to watch what I said. I was around the royal family a lot, so it was rare when I could really say what was on my mind.” She turned to Sokka, squinting her eyes from the sun. “Teasing is just the way I show that I care. I don’t mean to be well, mean.” 

“I don’t really think you’re mean.” 

“Good,” she grinned, tucking her legs into herself. “Because you haven’t seen nothin’ yet.” 

“Have you guys caught anything yet?” Katara called out. “I’m starving!” 

She stood quickly, shot her flames at the water, and took the fish that floated to the top in her hands. “Coming!” She shouted before running back toward camp. Sokka gathered his things to run after her. 

“You let me fish for an hour when you could do that this whole time?” 

---

i know what this chapter looks like. and yes. but all in due time. 

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie , @haylaansmi , @jada-cleo , @boxofteenageideas , @disgruntled-gay , @lie-ana , @jasmine-the-amazing , @svsoftie , @buckysfeet , @anime-simp , @imcravingyou , @rosetheshapeshifter , @alrightberries , @izzieserra , @hstott , @random-stupid-stuffs , @jackbamexpress , @jainaixo , @thefoxskinwalker

[adenei]

Rosa Hugonis

This fic was requested by @my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass, based on her headcanon of the origin of Rose’s name. Her post can be found here (I reblogged it earlier today).

A/N: I have nothing against the names used in this fic! 

*******************

Hermione had been nose deep in baby books from the moment they knew she was pregnant. Ron wasn’t surprised by this at all. He was sure that she’d always immerse herself in research about whatever topic she needed (or wanted) to learn more about. 

Today, she was reading a baby naming book. They’d found out they were having a girl earlier that week and had proceeded to spend their evenings suggesting names for their soon to be bundle of joy. What Ron thought would be a fun game of finding the right fit, was quickly turning into a nightmare. Anything he suggested put a scowl on Hermione’s face, and he’d tried to let hers down gently. 

“What about Helena?” she asked him. She had her finger on the page in front of her.

“Er- as in Ravenclaw?” Ron was trying to at least contemplate it. Before he could say anything else, she slammed the book shut.

“Why can’t you like anything I like for a name?” she shrieked at him. 

“I could say the same thing for you!” He retorted. Oh fuck. Ron had been trying very hard to not lose his temper as much with her because the pregnancy hormones were unreal. Unfortunately in this moment, he hadn’t kept his cool.

“I’ve read through three separate baby name books! I’ve told you every single name I like, but you just keep shutting me down! It’s not like we have a lot of names that we have to rule out, Ron! Your family’s got mostly men. Aside from our nieces, we’ve got a wide range of names to choose from, but nothing seems to be good enough to you!”

“Really, Hermione? You’re really blaming this on me, right now? I’ve given plenty of suggestions, too, that you’ve shut down just as quickly. We’ve got four months still, there’s time! Hell, I know some people have waited for the baby to be born to officially decide on a name. It won’t be the end of the world if we choose to do that.”  

Hermione let out a maniacal laugh. “Really? You expect me to wait until I’m exhausted from giving birth and then we’ll name our baby?! That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“God forbid we not have everything planned out for once in our lives,” Ron grumbled.

“Of course we need a plan! If we don’t have a name now, we could end up with the most basic name. Honestly, what were you even thinking? Amelia? Halley? Madelyn? How boring can you get with names, Ron!”

“Those are perfectly fine names, and you know it. I don’t understand why you don’t like them!”

“I just told you why I don’t like them!”

“Well it’s not like we’re going to name our daughter some ridiculous name that nobody’s ever heard of!” Ron wasn’t thinking. He didn’t even realize he’d backhandedly insulted Hermione’s name. It took him a moment to register exactly what he’d said, but it was too late. “Hermione, I-”

“Go. I don’t want to be around you right now. And since I can’t apparate because I’m carrying your child, you can leave.” She gave him the deadliest look he’d ever seen.

Ron didn’t even try to apologize. He knew she needed to cool down, and so did he. So, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. He walked down the street, and without thinking about where he was going to go, apparated into the Granger’s backyard. His in-laws were visiting friends in Australia, so he knew he could seek solace in Jean’s prized rose garden until he felt as though Hermione would be ready to welcome him home.

He sat on one of the benches next to the yellow flowers. Man, he’d really fucked up this time. He’d basically called Hermione’s name awful, implying that no kid would want to grow up with a name so unique like that. It wasn’t true. Not at all. He loved her name, especially the uniqueness of it. And he especially loved that she’d finally succumbed to ‘Mione, the nickname he’d started to use shortly after they started dating.

If he was being honest with himself, he’d shot down every one of her suggestions because naming a child a big responsibility. Just as big as caring for and raising them. Their namesake would stay with them for their entire lives. He never quite understood how easy it had been for all his siblings to choose his niece’s and nephew’s names. Well, okay, maybe he had. George had named his son after Fred, Ginny and Harry named James for Harry’s dad and godfather, Percy had named Molly after their mum, and even Victoire’s name held significance to the war. 

He didn’t regret himself and Hermione being the last in the family to have kids. Well, aside from Charlie, of course. Though, the dragons were his babies. Ron just wished there was an easier way to know that the name they’d chosen was right.

And then it hit him. He was staring right at it in Jean’s garden. Rosa Hugonis. Rose. Hadn’t Hermione mentioned that name? Yes! Yes, it was the first name she’d suggested. Ron was so giddy about the prospect of choosing from hundreds of names that he’d wanted to explore all their options before deciding on one, even though they both liked it. 

How barmy of him! He should have agreed with her, then. But as per usual Ron and Hermione, they had to get in a ridiculous row over it, and then the answer had to smack him in the face when he least expected it. Ron stood up and carefully picked one of the delicate flowers off of the bush. He needed to get back to her. 

With the flower in hand, he apparated back and all but ran to the house. He called for her when he walked in the door. She was in the living room, wiping tears away from her eyes. 

“Hermione, love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he said as he walked over and sat next to her on the sofa. “I figured it out. Well, er- you figured it out, really. It was the first name you suggested. Before we decided to throw around a few names that turned into what felt like a few hundred.” He handed her the delicate flower.

“Wh-what’s this? A-” Hermione looked up at him.

“Rose,” he said at the same time she did. “That’s it. That’s her name. You’d said it all along.” Ron put a hand on her small baby bump and kissed her.

“Rose,” she murmured as their lips broke apart. She looked down and placed her own hand on top of his. “Rose Weasley.” Hermione looked up at him. Her eyes welled with tears again, but this time a wide smile shone on her face. “It’s perfect.”

[ellixthea]

Hi, can you please write Henry having a crush on a singer, he goes to one of her show and meet her backstage, please?

A/N: Thank you for your request, I hope it was what you had in mind. I wanna thanks @iloveyouyen for being my beta and also for being there last night for me, it means a lot. Also I wanna thank you all for the support you’ve been showing me throughout likes, comments and reblogs. It’s incredible for me so thank you. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Words: 1,250

Warning: language

Taglist: @onlyhenrys @iloveyouyen @aaescritora @henrythickcavill @hollydaisy23 @mary-ann84 @noz4a2 @margoh1999 @rocknllpoetry

“Alright, I'll equip you with your mic and sound so you'll be ready to go on stage,” the sound assistant told you while smiling and started her work. You had undergone this procedure so many times but every time that moment would come, you would start to feel nervous, yet excited. Two opposites feelings that would make your adrenaline kick in. You were used to perform on stage, that was what you were doing for the past 4 years. However, each time, right before stepping on stage, you would feel uneasy, and yet you didn't let those feelings get the best of you. When the assistant was done, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and whispered words of encouragement to yourself to keep calm. You've done this a hundred times, you'll rock this and will have the time of your life. Right before leaving the room the assistant spoke to you once again. “You'll be on stage in 10 minutes. I'll guide you to the stage.” At the end of the short briefing, your crew, dancers and yourself left the lodge and followed the tiny woman backstage. 

“Here you are, have fun!” she said and before you could thank her, she was gone. Another artist was currently performing, so you turned your back to the stage, faced your crew to do the handshake you would all do together before each performance. 

“Let's rock this shit!” you announced to your group and they all cheered loudly.

Henry loved going to festivals so upon hearing about the upcoming one in London, he jumped on the occasion and bought a ticket along with his friends. Since he was a rather often recognised person, he and all of his friends were in the highest vip category.

When it was the day of the festival, Henry was excited, even more when he saw that you were on the headlist. He loved your work, your songs especially but also the fact that he may have had a crush on you. You've appeared on several talk shows, interviews, red carpets, even premieres but his path had unfortunately never crossed yours. He wished he would have met you already but at the same time, he didn't know how he would act and react when he would actually see you.

When he passed the entrance, an organizer came to Henry and his friends. “Hello Mr. Cavill. It's nice to see you here. Since you are in the VIP circle, you and your friends have backstage access at any moment, to meet the artists if you’d like. Would you be interested?” the bearded man asked while looking at the group. Henry looked at his friends and they all gave him a look,one that said 'it's your chance, don't mess it up.' He rolled his eyes at them in an amused way and accepted the offer from the man, who then gave them a card for the security to let them pass through. They all took the card and made their way to the front row, waiting for the show to start.

When it did, Henry was having a lot of fun, singing along to songs, with his friends even occasionally dancing, he was definitely happy to be there. Yet he was waiting for you to appear on stage. You were one of the reasons he came today and he couldn't wait to finally see you perform live since he couldn't previously due to a busy work schedule.

The 10 minutes passed quicker than you expected. The stage went black and since it was night time, the crowd couldn't see what was happening. You and your dancers placed yourselves exactly on positions as in rehearsal ,and soon the first note echoed and the lights went on. As you started performing your first song, your dancers started to dance. The crowd was euphoric, singing and dancing along to your song. It always made you feel happy when people would know every word of your songs.

Henry was speechless. He was looking at you, amazed by the show you were giving. He would hear about how your performances were always a huge show, but he didn’t expect to be this incredible. His eyes just couldn’t leave you.

During your second song, at some point, your eyes meet his. You instantly recognized him although you had never met him. You were a fan of his work and always thought he was very attractive. Seeing him enjoying your show, having fun and even singing along made you happy. You gave him a smile while singing and he returned it.

When your show was done and you made your way back to your lodge, the same brunette assistant that took care of you earlier knocked on the door and announced that a group of people were coming in to see you. You wondered who it could be, the adrenaline still kicking in your system. A few minutes later, another knock hit the door and you went to open it. You found yourself face to face with the man you saw earlier, Henry Cavill. For some reason, you didn't know how to act. He made you feel something that you couldn't put a word on. “Hey!” you exclaimed after staring at each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. 

“I'm such a huge fan! You did an amazing show!” Henry told you which filled your heart with happiness. “Thank you so much! Please come on in!” you told him and his friends as they came inside the lodge. You and your crew introduced yourselves to him and his friends and everyone was talking with everyone. Only Henry and you were talking to one another. The way he would look at you when you were talking to him made you melt, his blue piercing eyes devouring yours. “How come we've never met each other before?” you asked, trying not to get unsettled by him. 

“That's a good question actually. I've always wanted to meet you and I'm glad after all those years I finally did,” he said, giving you a warm smile. 

“You wanted to meet me?” you asked, surprised by his confession. 

“I did. I always wanted to get to know you,” he announced and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Before you could respond, your manager came in the lodge to tell you that you had to go, you had another show the next day and you all had to get on the road. 

“Looks like duty is calling me. I wish I could have talk to you more,” you confessed, feeling a little sad having to already leave him. He turned around and scanned the room as he went to grab something. You looked confused at his actions. 

“May I?” he gently asked, looking at your hand. You nodded and he took your hand in his, and scribbled something down on it. 

“Here's my number, so we can continue this conversation,” he said, smiling. 

“It would be with pleasure Mr. Cavill,” you replied, unable to stop smiling. 

“I was happy to meet you Henry.” 

“I was honored to have finally meet and talk to you. Break a leg on your next show,” he told you and went to hug you. He smelled incredibly good. You answered with a small “thank you“ and soon you were rushed out the lodge. Henry couldn't deny that his crush towards you had gotten bigger, and he definitely couldn't take you out of his mind now.

[aiiizawa]

i wish i could do the thing where  you reblog something several hundred times in a row for emphasis on that picture of solas being unfuckable but i love my followers too much to do that.

[all1e23]

Hay Fever [One-Shot]

Summary: Hay fever is making everyone a bit crazy. 

Warnings:  Sweetness. That’s all. 

A/N:   This takes place Ocotober 2021. 3 months after the epilogue. No Cassie and Leo. They are still being baked. ;-)  this is for @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ Fall Challenge. My Prompt is “Hold on, you have hay in your hair.” It’s in bold. Write me a book report, sing me a song, or come scream at me if you like it. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.  

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

This has been the longest day Bucky has had in years. He can’t remember the last time he felt this tired and worn down. It doesn’t help that his girls are still at the peak of their sugar rush after eating two bags of caramel corn and candy corn. He wishes he could be as excited as they are-- No, wait, he doesn’t. No one wants to be that excited about anything.

Their excitement knows no bounds, and it only doubles when they are bouncing around together. Okay, yeah, he finds it cute. Exhausting and cute.

In all fairness to the sugar rush duo, the pumpkin patch had been his idea. Bucky brought it up to his girls three or four weeks ago, mentioning it might be fun to get everyone together and visit a pumpkin patch.  A big outing with the whole family. Steve, Sam and Ollie, Nat and Clint, and Barneses -- seeing as it’s Oliver’s first Halloween with the family they should make a big deal and celebrate!

Bucky is definitely regretting his overeager spooky spirit.  The last four hours were spent on candy apples, pumpkin scones and apple cider, face painting, hayrides, and a corn maze. They still have a small petting zoo Y/n and Ori want to visit before they leave, but first, they have to pick out the ‘most perfect pumpkin ever’ -- because his girl wants them for the front stoop.

Y/n wanders through the rows of pumpkins and sighs heavily. Bucky can see it on her face; she can’t decide on just one. She wants all of them, and he knows this is important to her this year. It’s their first Halloween since she moved in with Bucky and Ori and with their babies on the way he understands how important it is for this holiday season to be perfect for her.

That perfection is not limited to the pumpkins she is going to decorate their home with.

She rests a hand on her swollen stomach and walks over to Bucky, catching his attention with a sweet kiss to the tip of his cold nose.

“Buck, which ones are your favorite? I can’t decide.”

Bucky reaches up and attempts to rub the sleep out of his eyes; they hurt. He’s just come off a forty-eight-hour shift, and they were busy. They were so busy, in fact, he barely got any sleep, but a promise is a promise. As much as he wants to be excited, he also really wants to go home and sleep, and that's why he stayed quiet. Bucky knows if he had told Y/n when he got home this morning, she would have insisted he stay home to rest. She would have rescheduled the entire thing or had Steve pick her and Ori up because nearly two years in and they are both still disgustingly in love.

He couldn’t have done that to her. He didn’t want to disappoint her, and she would have been disappointed. She’s been so excited, and it takes a bit of magic to get everyone off at the same time, so he slapped on a smile, downed a pot of coffee, and here he is, in the middle of some farm an hour away from home staring at hundreds of pumpkins.  He can push through this last bit for his girls and make it a good day for them.

“Beck, baby, just pick any of them. I don’t care. I’m sure whatever you pick will be perfect. Let’s get it and get them home, okay?” His tone isn’t harsh or brash. He would never talk down to her or speak to her in a way that would disrespect her – even if he is upset with her,

Regardless of his gentle temper, the words he chose out of exhaustion have stung. Y/n’s eyes suddenly fill with tears, her bottom lip trembles, and Bucky’s heart breaks in two.

Shit, he messed up.

“Beck-- Y/n…” 

He reaches out to take her hand, but she yanks it back and crosses her arms over her chest, letting them rest on her belly. That's never happened before, and he hates it. She turns her head towards where Ori and her uncles are picking out pumpkins with Oliver, leaving her back facing Bucky.

“It’s fine. Let’s get any of them.” She whispers, failing to hide the quake in her voice. The pregnancy has made her a little more sensitive than usual, and Bucky should have been more careful. He knows that. “If you d-don’t care… I don’t care either. We can have any old pumpkin because it doesn’t matter.”

It does matter, she does care, and Bucky is an idiot.

Bucky's gaze lands on the back of her head and can’t help the soft chuckle that slips out. The laughter makes Y/n spin around to face him, her features darkening in anger. There is a piece of hay sticking out of her hair from their hayride, giving her bunny ears he hadn't noticed till she turned around. He steps forward and closes the gap between them; she leans into his arms because she can’t help it. Her feet hurt; she’s cold and tired, and Bucky’s warm, and he smells good, like home. Bucky sighs and presses a kiss to the top of her head and whispers, “Hold on, you have hay in your hair.”

Y/n pulls back with a frown that’s threating to break into a smile; Bucky pulls it out of her hair, showing it to her before he tosses it to the ground. This is probably the worst fight they have ever had, and Bucky knows it's mostly due to hormones, but he's still ready with an apology because he really does care, and most of all, he wants her happy. 

“I’m sorry. I do care about our pumpkins. I’m just exhausted, baby. I didn’t get a lot of sleep. It was a busy night. It came out a lot harsher than I meant it, but it's not a lie. Whatever you pick will be perfect."

“Buck…” She sighs, guilt filling her words. “You should have said something. We didn’t have to come--”

Bucky shuts her up with a chaste kiss and shakes his head when they break apart. “That right there, that is why I didn’t say anything. You would have stayed home or at the very least, made me miss all this, and I shouldn’t miss any of this. I’ll sleep when we get home.”

“Okay, let’s grab a pumpkin and go.”

She attempts to wiggle out of his arms, but he holds her firmly in place and breathes in her ear. “How about this? What if we pick out all the weird shaped, imperfect pumpkins that no one is going to buy so they have a home, like I know you want to, we order pizza on the drive back, and we all hit the hay early?”

She grins and presses a kiss to his cheek, “I could be talked into it if snuggles are involved.”

“Try and stop me snuggling you, baby.”

[chaninfused]

Today, this mediocre blog turns one year old.

And it’s not much, but it’s something, for sure. I’m happy to be writing this, mainly because I didn’t expect to write it in the first place. Coming here, I had no aspirations for this blog. Write and post, that was my initial intent, but I’m glad to say I have found and created much more. As cliché as it sounds, I’ve learned and improved quite a lot, both as a person and a writer. Never in my life had I imagined myself writing y/n stories, yet here I am, and I’m content.

As much as I complain, I cannot deny that this place made this year bearable so far. Everyone, from my friends to my silent readers, made this experience fun, despite the various disappointments of 2020 (ahem, a ruined senior year). For that, I think it’s time to move to the important parts of this letter; all I have to say to you!

First, I must thank the friends that gave me something to look forward to each day. I am honored to have met you all, whom I have spoken to daily or spontaneously. Thank you for keeping up with my sucky person antics!

@luvhjs, I often wonder if we could’ve ever met if @skzwritersclub didn’t exist, or if you didn’t decide to join our fetus network, and I always conclude that it’s not something I want to think about. Simply because it’s horrifying. I might not express it properly, but our friendship is one I treasure beyond words. Thank you for panicking with me over silly things, listening to my nonsense rambles, and in all sincerity, being the best there is. A hundred ‘I love you’s randomly arriving in your inbox would never be enough, but I hope you know that I love you, and I wish you all the best, all the time ♡

@missinghan, I don’t know where to begin, and honestly, I don’t know where to stop either. I don’t regret screaming into your dms that day, although I’m deeply sorry for terrifying you (oops!). All jokes aside, I truly don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a friend like you. I’m grateful for each conversation we’ve had, even that one about maggot cheese or those depressing texts about our dying dashboards. I solemnly believe that I would’ve lost my mind during spring break had we not spent careless hours on Tumblr talking about anything that could possibly be talked about. I feel like I couldn’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me; for hearing my writing rants to handling my dramatics to just being there when I send a good morning text in all caps. You are incredible, it is not just a silly nickname. I love you, and I know affection is gross but I’m saying it again. I love you! ♡

@meiiyue, hey, remember when you told me you knew me from Wattpad? That was our first proper interaction, and I am so glad I had gotten to know you better after that. We often joke about it, but I love your love for all things murder. Please never let anyone’s opinions get in your way. You honestly have one of the most unique personalities I’ve ever known. I mean, where else would you find koalas and blood-chilling crime in one place? Thank you for being the cutest and most talented. I hope you know that you’re loved, and I love you, and it will always be that way ♡

@meanhly, oh, look, it’s my keyboard smashing partner! I’m glad you decided to panic about On track in my dms instead of my askbox. Thank you for birthing this beautiful friendship! Speaking of which, what friendship level are we at now, Selina? Okay, I’ll stop fooling around. Thank you for never failing to make me laugh, no thanks to your autocorrect for calling me fruit, though. I think one of the reasons I love the Songless Bird so much is, well, you! It was your excitement about the story that pushed me to explore the world more, to write more. I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for that. I love you, so much, and I cherish our friendship just as much ♡

@smileylino, our ‘02 line is only complete with you, Rain. Thank you for being the best panic partner (hehe) and the cutest Minho stan. Talking to you is always so much fun, even if we’re just discussing memes or soft scenarios. I don’t know how successfully your Minho detox is going, but I miss your random declarations of love for the one and only. I hope you know that you’re really talented, and I’ll always be here to cheer you on whenever. You deserve only the best this world can offer. I know you’ll do amazing, whatever it is you’ll be doing. I love you! ♡

@lixiefe, if anyone were to see our first interactions, they wouldn’t expect us to become good friends. Yet here we are, and I wouldn’t change that for the world! I love talking to you, even if it’s about the strangest of topics. Thank you for making me love my own work. You make it out to be something special, which it isn’t, but I appreciate that so much. Thank you for handling my self-deprecating statements with hilarious poop references, even though I am still adamantly against them (kidding!). You’re special, I hope you’d know that. I love you so much! ♡

@scriptura-delirus​, we might not interact a lot but whenever we do, it’s always so much fun. I truly admire your work and your way of thinking. Thank you for writing the best fantasy to be found in this fandom, and for all the support you’ve shown my mediocre stories. If this were a follow forever, know that your url would be among the first. I love you! ♡

@jeonginks​, can I consider you a friend? I hope I can. The entirety of my first interactions with you consisted of me embarrassing myself, from that useless blurb to all that panicking. Thank you for not blocking me yet... I am very sure that without SWC, I wouldn’t have ever talked to you. And while I might not panic anymore, you are still someone I genuinely look up to when it comes to writing. I wish you’d know that you’re an inspiration, for me and many writers out there. Also, you can send me as many Liam memes as you want, I’ve become immune to them (phew). I presume this is called affection, but I love you! ♡

@scxrlettwxtches​, writing or not, you’re a dear friend of mine. I’m terrible at expressing things, but I’m glad we started talking. Thank you for listening to all the unnecessary writing things I say. I love your work, even though I don’t say it enough. You might not know but your enthusiasm motivates me to write; all the random questions and spoiler requests. I’m sorry for [redacted] in ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’. I hope I’ve been able to make up for that through the blurbs! All in all, I wish you all the best in everything you do, and I love you! ♡

@f3lixlvr​, you are the first person I have properly spoken to in his hellhole. I remember our first conversations and just how much joy they brought me, even though I was hiding behind an anonymous profile. Thank you for being the most amazing and making late 2019 fun and exciting. I love you! ♡

@wingkkun​, we only began directly interacting recently, but we’ve talked before. Your writing is great, beyond that, even. I’ll raid your masterlist one day, just you wait! You seem like a complete sweetheart, and I hope we can talk more in the future. Thank you for all the lovely tags you had left on my stories, I love you! ♡

@ammuqwer​, you are a friend I didn’t expect to make, but one I wouldn’t want to lose for anything. Talking to you brightens my day, and I can only wish I can offer just as much happiness in yours. You’re amazing, really. If you ever have a hard time, please know that you can always find me. I love you! ♡

@p2q3r4​, I often scroll through your blog and I have to say, you’re crazy talented. Your drawings are stunning! Thank you for all the comments you’ve left on my writings, I appreciate every single one of them. You’re also a complete sweetheart, have I ever told you that? And I love your love for languages, it never was annoying. Never stop being amazing, I love you! ♡

🌷 anon, I might not know who you might be, but you’re a friend I cherish so much, Tulip. I love talking to you, and I say that a lot, but hearing from you is always so lovely. Thank you for all the asks you’ve ever sent, those with tmi to those with Splatoon talk. I hope you know that I’ll always be there for you, whenever, wherever. I love you so much! ♡

Caeliman Minho anon, last but definitely not least. I’m afraid this short letter wouldn’t do you justice, but I hope you’d know that you mean a lot to me. Thank you for all the support you’ve shown my work, all the inspiration you’ve given me, and all the thoughts you’ve generously shared. I love hearing what you have to say, and I love you! Thank you for everything ♡

Second, to all my readers, those who always reblog, those who leave a trail of hearts behind, and even those who just pass by, thank you for giving my writings a chance. I am continuously motivated to write more and write better for you. I’m nowhere near that, but I’m slowly making my way up there. Thank you for being the best audience ♡

Finally, to you reading this, thank you for reaching this far. It has only been a year, and I hope I can continue to contribute to this fandom for much longer than that.

Today, a story was meant to be posted. Due to my poor management skills (yikes!), I will instead be posting the world-information edit for ‘Danse Macabre’. Please look forward to it!

That is all. Thank you for making these 365 days on this blog special, and here’s to many more! I love you all! ♡

[jay-bee-me]

Hey guys!

Here is my special for 100 followers! (in the meantime we reached 114!!! Thank you guys)

Like @emo-bi-mess requested it turned out to be a creepy pasta I wrote on my own. It contains topics like death, hallucinations and mental illness. If you don't want to read it that's absolutely okay and I don't want anyone to read it when you don't want to. I gonna tag it with as much warnings as I can...

But now starts the creepy pasta:

I sank into the mattress of my bed. I was to lazy to switch of the light and grabbed my phone to scroll through my Tumblr dash. Most things I've already seen. Suddenly it told me to upload my dash to see new posts and I did so. The first two or three posts were some I already rebloged from other blogs. Then there was one if these posts saying if you don't reblog this in the next 10 seconds you will be haunted forever. I rolled my eyes. I've seen hundreds of these posts already - 3 alone this day. I usually reblog most of because they're fun and sometimes they say positive things like that you will get creativity from them. I knew they're all made up but nonetheless I liked the idea of being blessed. But this time I was feeling to lazy to hit the reblog button. Alsoi didn't wanted to reblog the forth of these posts today to annoy my followers. So I scrolled past it and saw some comics and fanart. Some so inspiring I rebloged them. When I took a look at the clock in my smartphone it says it was already 1 am. I decides to sleep and put my phone away. I changed my clothes, brushed my teeth and switched the light off. In the dark I found the way to my bed and snuggled in the blankets. It was darker than I thought because clouds were covering the sky. I stared into the shadows and thought I saw something but it was just my mind playing me a trick I told me. I had to grin at my own childish fear. I sank into a deep dream less sleep.

I sat up. Shit. There were noises. I could swear I heard someone running upstairs. The light and fast steps on the wooden stairs. Something was at my floor. I cursed softly. My parents were on vacation. I only was here because they asked me to watch after the pets. Since I've grown up with them I agreed immediately. Shit. Someone must have broken in. But why hadn't Buddy barked? He usually barks as soon as someone steps on the path leading to the house. I wished he or one of the cats were with me. I wasn't sure if I should turn on the lights or not. A thief may would avoid this room or even left the house if I did so. But a murderer would know immediately where to go. I stared into the darkness to the place I assumed the door must be. I heard a loud rumble. What the hell was that? Who was that?! Cold sweat was running down my neck and back. I saw the outlines of the room more clear now. Adrenaline must be running through my veins. Another rumble. And then a painful animalistic scream. Buddy! I gasped. I looked around the room to find anything to defend myself and the pets. I saw no then in the shadows. Nothing but a movement. I froze. That can't be. It must be another trick. Induced by panic and the circumstances. But... But it wasn't. Something was moving in the shadows. Crawling. Feverish I searched for something to defense myself. But there was nothing. Then the Thing came outta the shadows. It was big and suddenly I saw it eyes. Red glooming balls. With pupils as dark as nothingness. It was staring at me. At my eyes. At my soul. It felt like it could see everything I've ever done and not done and am going to do. I was trembling. It came closer. Every step sounds like a door was slammed shut. I wasn't able to move. It groaned. When it opened its mouth it reveals several rows of teeth. Each the length of my forearm. It stopped 50cm in front of me and began to laugh. It was a horrific mocking laugh. The sort that gives one goosebumps and panic attacks. I smelled its odor of rotton flesh and death. Then it whispered four words: I will come back. The next moment it vanished.

I sat on my bed till dawn arose. Scared. Frightened. When the first sunbeams lightened up the room I stand up. When I opened the door I cried out. In front of me laid the corpse of what once must have been my dog. Its spine was ripped out and his throat cut open. His dead eyes were staring at me. I sobbed but I wasn't able to touch him. Trembling I went downstairs and was glad when I saw the two cats were still alive. I didn't knew what to do. My parents won't come back soon. I went to the kitchen sink and filled a glass with water and drank it. I wiped off the tears that were running down my cheeks but it didn't helped. My face stayed wet. I cued up on the sofa. The cats pressed their warm body against me. We stayed that way till dusk came.

I was back in my room. I haven't eaten all day and was surprised I got to went back into my room. Ignoring the corpse in front of it. The cats were with me. The last glimpse of the sun vanished and the sky turned from blue to black. I felt numb. I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep but nothing happened. I didn't had any tears left to cry and so laid silent in the dark. Then I sensed something. I couldn't identify it properly but it felt like something entered the room. Though I was pretty sure the door stood shut. My heard beats faster. I opened my eyes and tried figuring out what was it. I remembered the words the creature said last night:I will come back.

I stared in the shadows. And there was it again. A movement. The cats woke up and began to hiss at whatever the thing was. But to my surprise the thing came closer. The cats got in its way to me and their courage to protect me nearly broke my heart. Then the thing take a further step and- and snapped of their heads. I screamed. Their bodies collapsed. Then the creature turned at me and hissed: I will return once more.

With these words it vanished.

I noticed I was completely alone now in this house. Only now the thought crossed my mind I should have called my parents. But otherwise how should I explain them all of that on the phone? I decided to wait for their return tomorrow.

I somehow sensed I would be the next to be killed. So I considered to prepare myself. I took several knifes from the kitchen and put them under my pillow. Then I placed some knives at other places so I would have weapons if I had to flee in the house. Only then I thought about what would happen if would have just left the house. But no this wasn't an option. It would have followed me and harmed even more than it had already. I sensed it.

When I was ready I sat down on the sofa. Waiting for the night. Suddenly I asked myself why all of this happens to me. And I wondered it took me so long to ask this. I tried to remember what I did on that evening before the horror began. But I only remembered being on Tumblr. Then I remembered and the shock almost paralyzed me. There was that post. That post I avoided to reblog. That dumb little post that was meant to mean nothing. I heard myself cursing. But all of this couldnt just happen because one silly post? I didn't want this to be the truth. I took a look out of the window. The sun almost vanished. I ran upstairs, jumping over the corpses of the ones I was supposed to take care of. I hadn't slept since the first attack neither did I eat and I only drank a bit.

I was sitting on my bed. Waiting for the shadows to move. I waited and waited. My body went stiff and I waited. Nervously I glanced at my alarm clock. It said it was 5am. I waited more than 8 hours. But I continued staring in the dark. Then finally something moved. I grabbed one of the knives and as soon as the creature was close enough I stabbed it. But it only laughed. I stabbed it again and again. Then I felt it teeth closing around me and I screamed.

News report

On April 16th the Smiths returned from their trip. What they found when they arrived was horrible. Their daughter, that was supposed to watch for their pets, had some kind of hallucinations and stabbed down the pets and a neighbor that wanted to help. She is now in a clinic and gets medical care. The daughter claims that a creature from a Tumblr post were the one doing all her horrific deeds...

Thanks to everyone who read it! Sorry for spelling / grammar mistakes...

[perpetua47]

An artist asked if they could have all of the photos for gesture references, and y’all seem to really like some of my blurry photos, so here’s a lot more blurry ones! Enjoy! Also, i finally wrote up my impressions of the show and the meet and greet, if anyone is interested. Very light on spoilers! 

- Brian really upped the danger level in this Unraveled, it was good dramatic development and got great emotional engagement from the crowd. He’s really refining his craft. If you’re a musical theater fan, I think you gonna like this. :)   - Everyone in the audience was entirely well behaved, as far as I know. The energy was great (I was in the front row, so maybe people were doing excessive amounts of dabbing or wiggle arms or something, but no one ever shouted anything weird.)

- Brian was under the table before the show. I was genuinely looking around and wondering where he would come in from. When Allegra and Pat are talking? Brian’s under the table next to them. Those first pictures where he’s standing behind the table with his arms raised triumphantly? He had just jumped up from under a table. He claimed he was down there for 20 minutes and got pretty hot. 

- He had no notes (except the occasional slide). He memorized everything he did. He worked SO HARD and it’s SO GOOD and he didn’t give up on his dreams of being a baker! *sob* “It's the best bread I've ever had”

- There’s one bit where I genuinely couldn’t tell if Pat was trolling Brian or if it was all preplanned. Afterwards I realized it must have been planned, but at the time it felt super real to me. Brian went up to Pat’s table, acted offended, and had a really adorable huffy hop off the stage. I have video of that hop, if it doesn’t wind up in the final cut. 

- I suspect “Kevin Punt” is a fake name. :) - While the microphone was a fun prop at times, I wished he had a mic that didn’t cover his face so much. I hope the sound came out well, it was very echo-y. Fine to hear at the time, but. (I’m sure it’s fine, they are professionals, Simone had giant headphones on, I just worry.) - The jacket removal was fantastic for the crowd energy. So good. Really good management of crowd energy all around. (THE DREAM BALLET!!!) - The enforcers were stressed about the size of the room before anyone showed up. 2 hours before the show I was talking to one (Matt! You’ll meet them in the video), and they said it was added to the schedule late, everyone knew this room was too small for the crowd he’d get, etc. While we were talking about this, my spouse said “and Brian’s right over there” and I panicked and hid behind a friend - I had thought, foolishly, perhaps I was too old for that kind of reaction. Apparently not! I’ve met famous people I really respect before - I was way more chill talking 1:1 with Neil Gaiman, whose work was hugely influential to teenage me. (All the other students in my department were too intimidated to talk to him until I did.)  I’m old enough to have babysat Brian. Pokemon didn’t even come out till I was in high school. And yet, when I got to meet him afterwards, I think I was shaking a little. - They opened the queue room doors at 90m beforehand, but some people had been milling about since 2 hours before the show. (Including me, but I’d just come from a panel in that room and I wasn’t going to leave.) We were instructed to move slowly and form a line. I can easily imagine it having been a bit messy if we didn’t have several enforcers keeping us in line. I had counted the front row seats during a previous panel, and I knew I was in the first 10 people and would be fine, but I kept recounting anyway. (I really wanted to get photos!) People did get into the line who weren’t there when the doors opened, but it was full 1h10m in advance. People were mostly able to sit down, there were performers, cookies were sold for charity, the comparison to fyre festival was totally unwarranted. :) I was trying not to dwell on not having asked to get a photo with Brian when we’d been in the room so I watched Unraveled videos and tried to be chill.  - The whole show ran something like 40 minutes (I honestly hope they leave it all in the final video, it’s all golden). The song is about 9 minutes. At the end he said he couldn’t think of anything that would kill the mood as quick as a Q&A, and announced the meet and greet. (He had an hour, and we each got max 30 seconds, hugs were freely available.) I engaged in GREAT RESTRAINT in not bolting for the door immediately - but my careful maneuvering to be in the front row of the show meant I was in the first ~15 people to talk to him. I had been planning for weeks what I would say to him if I got somehow got a few seconds with him, not really thinking it would actually happen. I did not expect *thirty whole seconds*. I kept thinking of his polygon cover letter video, and talking about how polygon videos helped an anxious guy like him, and decided that yes, I should say the thing about how his music helped me get through [recent shitty personal thing], and how much I specifically love his cover of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight”. If this really was his first real fan meet up, as was suggested on Tumblr, then I might have been one of the first people to get super emotional in person about how much I love his music and how much he means? I think he looks genuinely happy in the pictures with me, I hope he was.

- My spouse was taking photos the whole time. He asked my name, we hugged, I said the thing, we laughed, we took real photos, and then I turned to leave, and turned back and I darted in for a quick final hug. Then I left and sort of collapsed in happiness in the hall. Y’all, Brian gives really good hugs. I hope he had an awesome time meeting and hugging fans, and that he does lots more of these, and that *everyone* gets a chance to hug him. World Hug Tour. I’m a very emotionally open and PDAish person, and I hug a lot. I get complimented on the quality of my hugs, I know from hugs, and these were damn good hugs. I know he’s a stranger, and we had 30 seconds together, but I said an emotionally vulnerable thing, and I felt heard and like he appreciated me, and I felt safe and secure in that hug. I wish those thirty seconds less blurry in my memory, but I HAVE PHOTOS. (I also kept the SD card on my person that night, in case my camera got stolen out of my car or something. After taking pictures of my camera view screen with my phone. I’ve lost photos before - NEVER AGAIN.)

- Also I made a sappy tweet about how great he was AND HE LIKED THE TWEET.

- Of the dozen or so meetings I saw, most people said something brief and got a hug and a picture together, or asked him to record a video message (or talk to a person waiting on the phone.) While I was there, Simone was standing near him out with the crowds, and Pat was wandering back and forth on the other side of the room, occasionally crossing the barrier to be in videos.

- It’s been three days and I’m still just SO HAPPY. I almost didn’t get to go to PAX, there was a ton of complicated stress about it all, and I am, as stated above, SO HAPPY that I went. I’ve never had popular posts on tumblr before, and I know hundreds of likes and reblogs (and using the photos for memes! And Catholic sculpture comparisons!!!) means hundreds of smiles, and that’s just amazing, y’all.  I’m so glad Brian brings us all so much happiness, and that we bring it to each other. I’ve been in and out of fandom for two decades, and everything is just so nice here! I should probably delurk on that polygang discord. :)

[shinra-makonoid]

I just made the mistake of going through theevilterven/witches blog and wtf. This is the most obnoxious one I've seen in a long time. Like for real if she starts using "tr*nny" she could be the next toppd*ke. She also like reblogged 6 posts of you in a row, no wonder you don't want to respond anymore. I'm so sorry you have to deal with them. Since you like asks so much I have for you 4,32,50,71,81,85,87,89, if that's okay :)

Actually I don't receive notification from her when she reblogs me so it makes the "not answering" very easy lmao she basically talks into emptiness and I have to manually check her to see what she answers. I'm not losing time doing that every day.

I don't think she's as bad as toppdyke because toppdyke was very agressive and didn't look for any discussion whatsoever. She just insulted people over and over, and with worst words than the terf witch would use.

4. Is trust a big issue for you?

Yes. I'm paranoid online about being doxxed, and I don't want people to know about me IRL. I like control so it's part of it.

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?

Fortunately for me I don't have feelings for anyone right now. There's a dude that I met on a server that lives on the other side of the world that is pretty nice. I would potentially get feelings for him but there's a lot of things that prevents me from ever having feelings for him tbh. He's very attractive to me though, and I told him he was my type.

50. Ever used a bow and arrow?

No, and I wish I did. Maybe one day!

71. Can you curl your tongue?

Yes.

81. Tea or coffee?

Everyday at work except when I don't have some anymore, I drink overinfused Jasmin tea. It became a part of my routine.

85. Are you patient?

Meh I wouldn't say I am. I like when things are done.

87. Ever won a contest?

Idk if that counts but when I was in college there was a contest for writing about "the work of tomorrow" (roughly translated) and I talked about how video games could change the way we teach employees to do things, or even transform the job into something fun.

A hundred students from college would win a week trip on the south of France with activities and all. I won that! I was with a bunch of future politicians lmao the class difference was real.

89. Which are better black or green olives?

I think I prefer green olives. 🤔

Thank you for your ask!

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Shattered, 11

Notes: As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!

I'll admit the ending is pretty lackluster, but ultimately I'm glad I gave this kind of story a try, and I hope you all enjoyed the very depressing ride. Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and gave me such beautiful fan-art! I couldn't, and wouldn't, do this work without all of your love and support. Also big thanks to Modmad for inspiration behind one of the pairings, let's be real.

Lastly, I want to say that one of my editors, BlueShifted, will be temporarily stepping down. Send them a lot of your good thoughts and love, because they deserve it!

Summary: In the depths of the coldest winter, Minnie manages to find the one love that no ice could destroy.

Minnie could no longer be sure about the truth of the weather, for her insides stayed cold no matter how roughly she rubbed her hands as she rode one of the reindeer with Goofy. Ratface stayed on her shoulder, cuddled up close only because he “felt an itch” that her ear was good to scratch, and nothing more, so he'd insist. Occasionally from within the carriage beside them Daisy would call out and ask if Minnie was all right. Minnie would lie and say yes she was, and Daisy would pretend to believe it since there was nothing she could do to fix it. As the hours piled on, so did the snow, starting lightly in front and then growing heavier as they journeyed forward.

They encountered pine trees that were heavy with white, and further still trees that had died a frozen, miserable death some ages ago. For a brief moment of time, Minnie wondered if somehow they had gone backwards and returned to her village, for the setting began to seem very familiar. The absence of plants and color, the dead quiet all around, and the snow that never relented... The way they traveled was not for anyone, it was as if it had been made to dissuade people from going any further. Goofy began to shiver, but he didn't tuck his arms around himself for warmth – he saved that for Minnie, wanting to do all he could to keep her steady on the reindeer.

Occasionally the wind blew, but not enough to blind their vision, which was their last saving grace. Donald was worried about the horses, but Goofy assured him that they wanted to see this through to the end, if only for the sake of their mistress – who whined about how cold she was.

“Who told you a fancy gown was suitable for travel?” Ratface huffed when Daisy complained yet again. “It's only going to get worse from here. If you want to back out, do it now.”

“You won't be rid of me, ruffian raven,” Daisy said after a not-so-elegant raspberry from the carriage window. “We shall reunite Minnie with Mickey, and free the land from eternal snow! I just wish I had packed along thicker gloves, is all.”

“Don't suppose anyone's thought of a plan about how we're freein' the land?” Goofy asked as he trembled atop his reindeer. The herd stayed close together as possible, trying to group for warmth. “I'm stickin' with ya'll, but I still ain't sure how we can stop a lady that's been doin' this forever. How do we make her listen to us?”

Minnie had hoped by the time she got this far she'd have some idea of what to do, but there was still no great plan that came to mind. Saying so would only worry her new friend, so she kept it to herself. “We'll figure it out. As long as we keep trying, we'll find a way.” If only because they must, if only because there was no alternative. None of them could go back to the way they'd left things, be it a freezing village, a saddened kingdom, or a hurtful family. There was no option but to keep moving forward.

“May your determination keep you alive, pretty girl,” Ratface said rather solemnly, his eyes ahead, “because we're just about there.”

This got everyone's attention, and they all peered as best they could through the thick, falling snow. At first they couldn't see anything, and Donald would have given Ratface a good tug on his tailfeathers for the trick, but as they continued, they felt the land go down in a slope, and a shadow was descending upon them. Whatever was ahead was blocking out the sun more than the clouds ever could. There was a triangle shape in a misty form, but with each hoofbeat, it became clearer and more solid.

Rows and rows of icicles peppered what was once a lovely and quaint forest, now making it a hazardous place to traverse. The dirt and ground path was frozen solid, and there in the distance lay the landmark that sent a hard wave of fresh fear throughout the group – it was if a tidal wave had crashed up into the land and then had been frozen there completely, spikes and shards of ice sticking out everywhere, reaching up all the way into the heavens. It was disjointed, abrasive, and just looking at it was painful. This had been the creation of someone in unimaginable pain, someone who had done all they could to lock themselves away from the world.

Donald swallowed heavily. “I don't exactly see a front door we can knock on. How are we supposed to get inside?”

“I imagine she lets her soldiers in and out whenever she wants.” Daisy tapped her fan to her beak in thought. “But if she doesn't want us in, she's not letting us in.”

“And we'll be hard-pressed to find a way otherwise.” Ratface stood upright, on edge now that he was so close to what he'd been avoiding for ages. “A hundred human soldiers couldn't break down that ice.”

Perhaps this was true. Minnie looked at their surroundings, or more specifically the furry ones. “How about less than one hundred reindeer?”

Goofy clapped once. “Aw, that's a great idea! Reindeer are much stronger than people! You are some kinda genius, Minnie. Everybody ready?”

“No,” said Donald.

“No,” said Daisy.

“No,” said Ratface.

Minnie didn't bother.

“SOUP'S ON!” Goofy stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled a note so high that Minnie winced, and after that, every single reindeer began to stampede forward, horns out at the ready. Since this was to be a much bumpier ride, Goofy lifted Minnie into his arms and held her like a careful package, despite how painful it was due to her chill. Donald groaned, but after a tug on the reins, the horses raced on far in the back.

The first reindeer didn't make a crack, nor the second or third. But by the time the thirtieth reindeer and all its siblings crashed into the icy wall, not only did it crack, it was thoroughly and completely crushed like a thin ice cube in the palm of a hand. Inside, the reindeer continued on an icy road but began to slow down as it became clear that bunching up together would only lead to their doom.

Within the ice palace was a single stretch of pathway, and stepping off it meant dropping into a bottomless pit. There were hovering patches of ice with fresh snow that drifted back and forth like eerie stepping stones, and they floated up, down, left, right. The carriage pulled to a stop, and Donald gently helped Daisy down. At first she thought the walls were coated blue, but a startled blink revealed the truth – soldiers. Hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers lined the walls, waiting for orders, unfeeling, unthinking. Daisy dove into Donald's arms, frightened by the number, and Donald felt much the same, clutching her tightly to his chest. Goofy gulped audibly, taking his time to lower him and Minnie down off the reindeer, no longer shaking just from the cold.

“There,” Ratface said softly, and Minnie turned her head to look up ahead.

The pathway rose high with white stairs, leading to a grand throne where the Snow Queen sat, her dull eyes observing her guests. She didn't appear to be surprised by her visitors, but then it was difficult to imagine her with any emotion at all. Though she was far away, Minnie felt the terror that seized her when she first met the dreaded woman face to face back in her village. Her toes clenched up in her red shoes, the precious ones she'd gotten from Daisy, and she wanted to run away and abandon the mission.

Instead, she walked forward, through all the reindeer. One by one, her friends followed, their steps echoing, the silence determined to drive them to madness. In turn, the Snow Queen rose from her seat, staff held ready in her fingers, and she began to descend the stairs. It all seemed very formal, like the heads of warring nations coming together for a talk of peace. Minnie kept her chin up, never looking away, only stopping when she reached the foot of the stairs. The Snow Queen stopped in the middle of the stairs, and the staring contest started anew.

Minnie took a deep breath, though it agonized her lungs. “My name is Minnie,” she began, “And these are my friends. Ratface, Daisy-”

“I know who you are,” the Snow Queen interrupted, holding up a hand. “I have been watching your useless journey.” As she spoke, Minnie glanced at Ratface, trying to read his reaction, as he stayed absolutely still, eyes wide. “I had thought you all knew my lessons well...but it appears you refuse to learn, and so must be punished.”

Daisy found her voice very easily. “I'm glad to have flunked your lessons! You took away all the light and love of our world, and we're here to get it back!” Donald tried to hold her back, but this was proving futile. “Return Mickey to Minnie at once! They deserve to be together!”

“If that is what you wish.” The Queen's grip on her staff tightened, and it began to emit a faint blue glow – and so did one of the soldiers from the walls. He jumped onto one of the floating ledges, jumped again, and indeed this was Mickey, weapon at the ready, and within seconds it became clear that he wasn't returning to Minnie for a happy reunion.

“Scatter!” Donald cried, unable to think of anything else. He grabbed Minnie by the wrist and jumped onto the nearest floating ice patch which proved quite slippery, and Ratface took to the air. Goofy stumbled backwards, and Mickey landed at the foot of the stairs, ready to start the chase anew – and then Daisy threw herself at the boy, arms around his neck, trying to tug him backwards.

“Mickey, you must wake up!” She pleaded – all those in the Golden Kingdom have been trained to fight the Queen's soldiers, and she hoped it would finally do some good. “Your true love came all the way to save you! Don't you remember?” Mickey wordlessly clenched Daisy's arm, and threw her off with one hard swing – Goofy held up his arms to catch her, and wound up bowling into the reindeer, who were doing all in their power not to fall off the path.

“He has two shards within,” the Queen said calmly, as Mickey ran ahead to catch up with Donald and Minnie. “His memories are gone, and there is no power that can restore them. Such is the fate that awaits you all.” More soldiers began to light up, signaling they were about to join the fray.

“Not good not good not good!” Donald yelped as he tried to keep his footing, and Minnie, on the floating ledge, seeing the other soldiers getting off the wall. Mickey landed hard on the same patch, causing the ledge to tilt his way. Donald staggered, and then pushed Minnie hard. “Go!” and she obeyed, trying to hop onto the nearest ledge. “All right, you big palooka, let's see you-” but Mickey was in no mood for exchanging pleasantries – he smacked Donald hard with his spear once, twice, and when Donald tried to duck and tackle, it was like hitting a brick wall. Mickey shoved him aside, and leapt on to the ledge where Minnie had just begun to slide on the ice.

She fell onto her side, and gasped as Mickey stuck his spear into her dress to keep her there. She gazed up at him, at his lifeless blue eyes that saw nothing. “Mickey,” she whimpered, but there was no reaction. Her mouth fell open, wanting to beg and plead, wanting to say all the things that built up since he'd been gone, but found no words to express them. The Snow Queen was right about one thing – he wasn't going to listen. Not like this. She then held her breath as she understood. “You're not my target.” No, if she wanted to fix things...

“Comin' through!” Goofy hollered – before riding on a reindeer that slammed Mickey off Minnie. Maybe he wasn't good for much in combat, but even an ice warrior had difficulty fending off hundreds of pounds of solid flesh and horns. Minnie sat up, and could see Donald and Daisy trying to hold their own with the soldiers that had joined the battle, reindeer rearing up and kicking and ramming any in their way. Any soldiers that fell off the path seemed to vanish, but were actually waiting until they hit the wall of brethren, so they could grab, climb, and start all over. Ratface tried to help as best he could, pecking and biting at the soldiers, but he made no affect at all.

Throughout this, the Snow Queen stayed in place, not truly watching, her eyes distant. As far as she was concerned, she already knew the ending. Once their bodies were worn out, she'd plunge her shards deep into their chests and add to her collection - this Minnie knew. The shards, the shards, it was all about the shards, and Minnie held her aching chest, seeing what others could not. She had to act quickly, before another soldier came for her, but her movements felt tired and sluggish due to the chill in her heart.

“I know what you want to do!” Minnie cried out as loud as she could, though it did not turn the Snow Queen's head. “You plan to use your shards on us all!”

“It is your punishment,” the Snow Queen replied without looking at her. “And it will be what is best for you, and for the world. A world without love is a safer world.”

“How can you say that it's best...” Minnie staggered, but kept on, her back hunched over. “When you don't understand at all? One shard takes over the body... two shards takes over the mind... but you never put a second shard in your heart!”

At last, this made the Snow Queen's head whip around, her eyes wide. As if all attuned to her, all of the soldiers stopped what they were doing. Ratface dove for Minnie's side, flapping his wings hard in the air. “What are you saying?! I know what I saw, she pushed them right into her heart!”

“You saw her push in one shard!” Minnie rebuked, her eyes still on the stunned Queen. “But she closed herself away before you saw anything else... I know she didn't take the second one! It never happened! She remembers everything, she hasn't lost a single memory!”

The Snow Queen's began to turn towards Minnie, her face staying the same but her eyes darkening. “Your fear drives you to insanity, child.” Her voice still had the same disturbing calmness – but the words shook, holding back. “I remember nothing, as do all of my soldiers. That's why they will never wake up and return to their lives. I gave to them the same thing I gave to myself.”

“Liar!” Minnie screeched, and though she felt tears near her eyes, they lacked any natural warmth. “You're lying! I know you never gave yourself another shard, and you still have your memories in you... because if you didn't... because if you truly forgot everything the demon did to you...we wouldn't be here!” She held out her hand, gesturing to the horrors all around her. “You wouldn't be trying to 'save us' from love, if you didn't remember every part of it for yourself! If you really wanted it gone, you would have erased it from yourself entirely! But... you kept it....” Her breath hitched, as she felt her very insides growing numb. “I know what the demon did to you, I know the things he said and what happened to your wings...”

The Snow Queen's free hand began to shake, before curling up, fingernails pressed into her palm. “If you really do know what happened to me... then you know why I erased those memories. I would want nothing to remember him by. There is no truth to your words, I will not hear them!” Suddenly her once peaceful voice became louder, and all of the soldiers turned toward Minnie. One by one, they began moving toward her, and her friends became more frantic in their efforts to stop them.

“You do remember, and I know why you kept those memories!” Minnie heard Mickey coming for her, and knew that he would show her no mercy, that no matter the tears she shed or the answer to his last question, he was gone, and would stay gone if she stopped. “Because despite all the pain you feel, despite what happened to your wings, despite everything... You don't want to get rid of the memories, of that time when one person made you feel loved!”

“Silence!” The Snow Queen's frozen facade began to break, and the mirror atop her staff glowed deeply, harshly. “It's not true! None of it's true! Make her stop!”

Mickey came up behind Minnie and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her backwards, but she pulled forward, even as her bones began to grow cold, even as her muscles lost their feeling, even as every part of her was in endless pain. “He made you feel like you were important! Like you were special! He made you see a part of you that you never knew was there... and he made you happy! You never wanted to forget that, you couldn't go through with it! No matter how much it hurt to remember, you wanted to keep him with you!”

How much was she speaking of the Snow Queen, and how much was she speaking of herself? She could no longer tell, the lines between these lost lives now growing blurry. Ratface had stopped his flying, stunned at what was being said, his beak agape, mind in the past. Donald, Daisy, and Goofy kept trying to fight past the soldiers, to save their dear friend, but all they could do was delay the inevitable by mere minutes.

“That's why you're doing this!” Minnie yelled as Mickey held her arms behind her back, to the point where she was certain something would break soon. “You hoped that if you got rid of everyone's love, yours would vanish on its own! But it won't! It never will!”

“Stop it! STOP IT!” The Snow Queen – Magica – had begun to scream, clutching her hair, all the emotions she had tried to kill rising up and clawing at her throat. “I SAID STOP IT!”

Mickey's hand came for her throat, and Minnie used the last of her strength, “After all this time, more than you love mortals, more than you love helping them, even now – You still love him!”

“NOOOOOO!” Magica's hands were on the staff now, not even aware of what her powers were doing, all she could hear was the voice she wanted to silence and all of its truth. The mirror began to crack, over and over, and then – it in a wind as harsh as a scorned lover, shards flew out and sank into Minnie's chest. Not just one, or, two, or even three – countless shards entered her chest, and her eyes lost their color, her entire body went white, and then -

“Minnie!” Ratface shrieked, taking to the sky, but it was too late. Ice formed from within Minnie's chest, and then quickly climbed all over her body, encasing her like a clear coffin, growing up and down in an icicle that could not be broken. Mickey was flung backwards by the sheer force of it, although he was quick to stand up and await more orders from his Queen. All the soldiers were doing the same, stopping in place, as the ice around Minnie finally stopped. All the color was stripped from her body, even her clothes, and not even the blue from her veins could be seen anymore.

Magica dropped her staff in silent shock, her hands trembling as they came to her mouth. “No... no... w-what have I done...?”

“Minnie!” Daisy burst into tears, but that didn't stop her from running towards the wall of ice that held her friend, Donald and Goofy in tow. “Minnie, darling! Minnie, wake up!” She banged her fists on the ice, but not even a speck came off. Donald slammed his hands hard, and Goofy had one of his reindeer bang into it, but nothing would make the prison budge.

“Pretty girl!” Ratface tried to claw at the ice with his talons, yet couldn't leave a scratch. He hadn't cried since he betrayed his lost love, but now tears fell hard, as he scratched and scrabbled. “No, no! You were supposed to be different! Oh, I should never have taken you here! I should have left you be!” He hit his wings on the ice until his small body gave out, and he dropped from the sky. Daisy caught him in her arms, and they wept together, unable to look away from Minnie's lifeless body.

They were not alone in their grief – Magica fell to her knees, shaking her head wildly, as if that would undo the life she'd taken. “This... This wasn't supposed to happen! I was trying to help you! I... I was trying...” But the words fell flat, doing no good, being forced to confront reality – that in her years of reigning torment, she hadn't helped anyone. Why did that girl keep fighting, when she knew she couldn't win? Why did she keep moving forward when everyone else had given up? Magica didn't know, and didn't know what to do. She'd never given anyone more than a second shard. The third was only a threat, only to keep them in line, only to protect mortals from the pain of love! “I wanted to help...”

The soldiers kept waiting for orders, unable to grasp what was happening around them. As Mickey waited with them, a red blur touched his face.

It was one of the rose petals from Minnie's hair, all of them now floating gently downwards, having been flung from her body as she'd been encased. None of the soldiers acknowledged it. Mickey went to remove it, as it was an obstacle, and all obstacles had to be eliminated, so he picked it off his face and -

And he stopped. His hollow eyes remained on this petal, staring intensely, for reasons unknown to him. He felt it between his fingers, though he could no longer feel anything at all. So why was he holding onto it? Why did he refuse to let it go? He knew he had seen this color somewhere else. It meant something to him, more than orders from his Queen. This was more than a color, more than a petal. It was a symbol, an accomplishment, it had been work and effort and determination, never giving up despite all the odds. He knew this, because... because... didn't he...?

Slowly, his eyes went up, looking at the girl in the ice. Why did she have this? Who... was she...?

“...Minnie...?”

~*~

Little Minnie laid in the snow, knowing it was piling on her but unable to feel it. She couldn't feel anything, and it was getting harder to see anything in the pitch black night. Her voice was worn out from screaming for Papa, it was clear he wasn't coming. She was all alone.

Except Minnie of the present was there too. She blinked down at her younger form, pitiful and pathetic as she took shallow gulps of air. She remembered this night very clearly, and at her worst moments and deepest fears, it came back to her with resounding force. Sometimes it felt like she'd never escape this night, and maybe she hadn't, maybe everything up to now had been a mad dream of death. She sighed, and looked at the door, knowing Papa and Mama were on the other side. This had been done as an act of love, twisted and cruel as it was. He'd only wanted to protect her, to show what would happen if she defied the Snow Queen.

And he was right, wasn't he? Wasn't she dead? Or something close to it. She hadn't been able to defeat the Snow Queen and rescue Mickey. She led several innocent lives along her insane quest and now they'd be turned into mindless soldiers too. Everything had been for naught. Maybe it would have been best for everyone if she really did die this night.

She'd been scared of the cold for so long, letting fear hold her back from everything. Now here she was, devoured by it, and she looked down at her child self, wishing she could warn her of the terrible things to come. Maybe if she did, she could avoid this awful fate and save her friends. Papa had done this for the best. Papa had meant well.

She knelt down in the snow, but as she began to brush the powder off of her younger form, she paused as her eyes reflected herself. She saw her fur had now gone completely white, as opposed to the child beneath her, dark as night. She really had been so small, so weak, so fragile. If they had waited a minute more to get her inside, would she have truly died? All to protect her, to punish her for believing in Mickey's dream? Instead of fighting for their child's right to happiness, or their own, they would have rather let her suffer? They too had been afraid, they too had let fear hold them back. She understood what they had done, but...

“What Papa did was wrong,” Minnie said quietly, for the first time in her life acknowledging the sin of her elder. “Even if an act is done with love and worry...it can still be wrong. And you didn't deserve this.” Carefully, she scooped the child up into her arms and held her to her chest. “We didn't deserve it... I didn't deserve it. I wanted to believe in a future where I could be loved and happy... and that was not a bad thing.” She was so cold, but the child was... warm? Like a soothing fire that crackled and welcomed, and the snow around them began to slow down to a halt.

What was this new feeling in her heart? It was so unlike any of the other emotions she had discovered. It was soft, yet bold, taking a firm grip in her soul and giving her strength. It was a strange happiness, a new confidence, it was something she had never known was possible and yet now that she knew it – she felt she understood everything.

Like mirrors all around her, she could see Ratface, Daisy, Donald, Goofy, her parents, the Snow Queen, and Mickey, cheerful Mickey, wonderful Mickey, and around them she saw herself and what she'd done with them – for them. All the times she had listened to their burdens, offering shoulders to cry on, friendships and devotion, courage and conviction, sacrificing her own well-being for their own.

Was this love? Was this how love was supposed to feel? This...was not the love that Magica had tried so hard to erase, because Magica didn't have this kind of love. So very few people did, and that had to change. This was why it had hurt the Queen so deeply to be betrayed, why Ratface had given up everything to save her, why Goofy stayed with his abusive family, why Donald had given into anger so much, why Daisy threw so many of her parties, why Papa and Mama never told Minnie a word of kindness, why everything had stayed the same and nothing had changed.

This love was unique for every person, and Minnie smiled as she understood, as the younger version of her vanished, taking its proper place in her heart. She held herself, and warmth overflowed every single part of her body, as if the entire sun was blossoming inside of her. She knew the name of this love, and she knew it would free her.

“I am a good person,” she said softly, eyes shut. “I try my best to help those I see, and it makes me feel good when I do. I have helped people find their bravery, I have defeated evils that can no longer hurt others, I have taken steps no one else dared to see. And from now on, no matter what happens... I promise... I will never stop loving myself!”

When she opened her eyes, the ice encasing her began to split, then hiss, and then in a flurry of heat and water, broke apart entirely, flooding the crevasse below with pools of warm water. As her feet touched the floating ledge, grass began to take root suddenly, growing at a wild rate, wildflowers popping into existence in every shade of the rainbow. The ledges fell into the water, floating around, and the flowers and grass continued to grow, melting the icy pathway and giving life and form to the ground. Minnie laughed as the water splashed at her shoes, grabbing the ends of her dress and twirling around. The white was gone from her hair, and the blue was gone from her skin. At last, at long last, her nightmares were over.

Mickey dropped the petal from his hand – he remembered being a boy and planting seed after seed, never stopping despite how many failures he'd encountered, all for the sake of bringing hope to the village he loved. He knew he could save his people, he knew he was doing good for them, and he – yes, he could – he could also love himself – and with that, the spell on him was utterly destroyed, the blue on his skin evaporating at once, the fresh color of his eyes were restored. He dropped his spear, staring down at his hands, with his normal clothes restored to him as well as his heart, his breath, his ability to feel and touch. Then that delightful sound touched his ears – Minnie, laughing. Had he ever heard her laugh before? It was the most beautiful sound in the whole world.

“Minnie!” he cried, and he ran towards her, unable to last a second longer without her in his embrace. But he wasn't alone on that account – just as he'd taken her his arms, her name was joyfully shouted over and over by the friends she'd made -Daisy went for a rather hard tackle, taking all three of them down into the knee deep water, and Donald joined in, ruffling Minnie's hair between her ears, then came Goofy, seizing everyone into his long arms for a great big squeeze.

Ratface dove into Minnie's lap, pushing his head to her chest. “You stupid girl!” He sobbed openly, even as Minnie held him and kissed his head. “How dare you do this to me again! I'll leave for good this time, I swear it, you'll never see me anymore!”

“I love you too, Ratface,” Minnie said with an extra giggle, and then she looked around, unable to stop smiling, joy in every word. “I love all of you, with all of my heart! I'm so glad to have met you, and be with you! I'm so glad to be alive! I'm...” Yet she trailed off, once her eyes fell on the shocked Snow Queen. The other soldiers stayed in place, still trapped, and she had yet to move, eyes wide and mouth open.

Mickey jerked, and then went on the defensive, standing up with fists clenched. “You! After all you've done...” But Minnie gently pushed aside all the tender holds and stood up, placing a hand on Mickey's fist to lower it.

“How...?” Magica asked breathlessly, her hat sliding off her hair and rolling onto the ground. Her glorious throne was cracking and melting. “How... did you come back? I don't understand. You kept trying, and you didn't stop, no matter what I did or what anyone else threw at you. How can you still stand up? How are you alive?”

Minnie picked up the ends of her dress so she could walk out of the ocean she'd created, and stepped onto the grass, which many reindeer had now taken as lunch. She stood in front of Magica, and smiled. “You couldn't erase love, no matter how hard you tried. No, not really. You made parents afraid of loving their children, of villages afraid to love their people, and of two people afraid to be together. But there was a love you could never destroy, because you didn't know it existed... because you never felt it yourself. And that kind of love will always find a way, even if it takes centuries.”

Kindly, lightly, she leaned over and held Magica by her cheeks, lifting her face up. “You never knew how to love yourself.”

She looked back at her friends, who watched in awe, candles of comprehension beginning to burn within. “We all forgot how to do it... and so many of us need another's love in order to see it for ourselves. We become so focused on loving another that we can't see the good in us. We look for others to make us feel special, because we can't find it in ourselves. But... it is there. Sometimes it needs help, but it is there. We can all find a way to love ourselves.”

Tenderly, she stroked Magica's hair as she would do to Ratface's feathers. “And you? It won't be easy, after all the pain you've caused... but I know you can find it too. The person you used to be, who helped others because that is what they liked to do. The person the demon fell in love with. She's still there, and she deserves love, the same as everyone else does. Everyone deserves love... especially from themselves.” With that, she gently kissed the top of Magica's head.

The final touch of pure warmth melted the spells – the palace of ice began to dissolve, and the soldiers staggered, waking up, one by one, some falling over in shock, others running to their loved ones in mad joy. Magica's minks and robes fell apart, revealing the divine, simplistic robes she once wore as an angel of the earth. Magica gasped, pained, and then suddenly she held Minnie closely, weeping into her, and Minnie allowed it, continuing to stroke her head and let centuries of agony pass through.

The staff fell apart, melting away until there was only the mirror left, and the crack still remained, except now it did not look so terrible. In a different light, it was not seen as an imperfection, but a quirk, perhaps. Broken still, but not inherently bad because of it. All around them, the forest quickly regrew into its natural state, the water rolling away into the open mud and dirty path. The clouds parted, and when Magica lifted her teary face, Minnie could see herself reflected in those eyes again, and she was proud of what she beheld.

“I'm sorry,” Magica groaned, her fingers holding firmly onto Minnie's dress. “It's not enough, it will never be enough, but I am sorry.”

“Not everyone will forgive you,” Minnie said gently, “And the wounds you made will take a long time to heal. But...I think anyone can start over, if they really want to try.” She glanced backward, and met Ratface's eyes. He gulped audibly, but knew he could stand back and watch as a mere audience member no longer. He stepped back, then forward, flapping into the air and landing on Minnie's chest. He tucked his beak softly to her chin, a silent show of gratitude for the journey she had taken and all she had endured. She kissed his beak in return, thankful for the way he'd shown her and the protection he'd tried to give.

Minnie held out her arm, and Ratface walked down along it, trembling quietly as he looked at Magica, who was quietly watching him in return. Slowly, Magica held out her hands, and Ratface walked into them, his eyes blurry with years of tears. “I was so caught up in the bliss of loving you,” he murmured, “that I never considered the world around me, and that the things I had done that would catch up to us. I wanted so desperately to be special, to be better than everyone, when I could have been content with me being me... as long as I was with you. I will not ask your forgiveness, I will never deserve it. But I beg you here and now... to let yourself be free to love yourself for the first time.”

Magica said nothing still, but she lowered her head, pressing her forehead to his own. The concept of loving herself had never been thought, had never been experienced, and the idea was frightening after all the pain and misery she had caused. Minnie picked up the fallen mirror, and offered it back to Magica, and in this gesture the angel could see the person she once was – the one who had been so terrified of falling to temptation she'd given away her magic. “Whoever you were,” Minnie said, her smile feeling immortal, “she may still be deep inside you. I think you can find her again.”

It would be a long, difficult task to do so, but Magica could feel Ratface – Gladstone – nudging her with his wing, urging her to try again. Maybe now she could think as Minnie did – to do nothing was tantamount to giving up, to being dead already, and the only way to attempt to fix the problem was to try. Try, try, and try again. Minnie, with no powers of her own save for her own heart, had come this far. It was time to see how far a fallen angel could go. Magica's fingers brushed up to the crack in the mirror. “Thank you, child,” she said softly, and the mirror began to glow. “Thank you for breaking my rules.”

Then the glow became bright, bright enough to blind but not enough to pain, like the summer sun shining down for the first time in ages. When Minnie could see again, the two were gone, but up in the sky, she could have sworn she saw a pair of ravens flying away. Sparks of sunlight fell from the sky, and for every sunny spark that fell, the soldiers began to wake up, their eyes clearing, their hearts open, and there was gasping and crying and cheering and singing. Loved ones were reunited, and the world was free. Ah, but yet, not all was done, so Minnie remembered. She turned around, facing the proud expressions of her companions. “Mickey... I have an answer to your question.”

“Oh!” Mickey's breath caught, and he stumbled forward, so overcome with excitement he nearly forgot how to walk. Daisy giggled as she stepped aside, Donald rolled his eyes as he pulled Daisy in by the shoulder, and Goofy began to earnestly sniffle. “Right! Th-the question! Of course! I mean, I'm sorry about the jewel, and everything, I wasn't in my right mind, wasn't in any mind, I was...” He cleared his throat, understanding he was going nowhere fast. He took a slow breath to try and calm down, and then knelt in front of Minnie, taking her hand. “Minnie... I love you with all my heart. I feel like I always have. And now I know, together, we can rebuild our village...and we can do it side by side. So, Minnie, will... will you marry me?”

Minnie tenderly put her hand atop of Mickey's, and inhaled, exhaled – she had been confident of this answer ever since she woke up to what she had been missing, and there wasn't a doubt in her heart that her choice would be the right one. She knew exactly what to say.

“No.”

Mickey's jaw dropped open in shock, but it was Daisy who yelled, “WHAT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Goofy tilted his head. “Did I miss a step?”

Donald rapidly gestured between the mice. “You went through all that, and you say no?! Why?”

To that, Minnie let out a soft laugh. “Because I only just allowed myself to be myself! All this time we've been growing up, I haven't been allowed to think or say or feel what I really mean. How can I be sure if Mickey loves the real me, when I don't even know the real me yet?” She pulled Mickey up his feet, and closed his open mouth. “Yes, let us return home and free our families from the prison the Snow Queen made... and let's learn a little more about each other first, all right?”

Mickey snorted, but found he couldn't very well argue against her logic. He thought he'd be angry or disappointed, but instead, he felt a little relieved, and perhaps excited. “In that case... I can't wait to get to know the real you. I bet she's some kind of wonderful.”

Minnie looked to the sky, hoping she'd see one more glimpse of her flying friend, but he was nowhere to be found. The former soldiers were now embracing one another, eager to return to their friends and family. Daisy spotted her parents and flew into their arms, embracing each other with kisses. Goofy began to wail happily, and Donald sighed as he tugged him along, certain he'd need his help rounding up all the reindeer, yet couldn't find it in himself to complain.

At long, long last... winter had ended, and spring had come.

“Yes,” Minnie answered. “I bet she is.”

~*~

All the spells had been broken at last, and all who had shards within them were freed of their grasp. In the Golden Kingdom, the rightful rulers were quick to undo the damage their daughter had done – and best of all, allowed their child to be young again. Her beloved attempted the path of the guardsmen once more, and failed once more, yet he vowed to never truly give up. After all, he had a wondrous woman waiting for him at home, who gave him the confidence he lost. The outcast from the family of thieves found a new family, one that didn't consist of brothers and mothers, but of neighbors and friends who opened their arms and their hearts to him, helping him find a new home for him and all his furry friends.

The women who had become petite and porcelain dolls were now flesh and blood again, and they banded together to return to their families, eager to embrace the world that was new warm and loving as it was meant to be. The snows melted, and the ice thawed, and in one village, the joy of seeing lost ones return was enough to warm the cold souls of every single man and woman. There were wounds that needed to heal, traditions to be unearthed, and come the next year, there were beautiful roses that grew all over the land.

One day, when the village was colorful and happy and full of smiling people, there was a wedding for the first time in years.

Did they all live happily ever after? Oh, never count on such a thing. No life can ever be happy all the time, nor can it ever be constant sadness. But there is one thing to be certain of – so long as they kept love in their hearts for one another, and especially for themselves, there were far more happier times than ever before.

My pretty girl wouldn't have it any other way.