#I. about .<< I was never no one. I am no ordinary woman—my dreams do come true.

[nebulaafterdark]

Blood & Cheese (Pt. 1)

Summary: After the events of Blood and Cheese, Rhaenyra’s daughter returns to King’s Landing in hopes of speaking to her childhood companion. Based off this request.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI

Targcest, mentions of death, loss of virginity

Y/N and Aegon never had an ordinary relationship. They grew up together, they loved each other, knowing all the while they could not marry.

Aegon is promised to Helaena. He marries her, performs his duty, though he loves her as a sister and nothing more.

Y/N does not wed. Rhaenyra is in no hurry to marry off her only daughter.

Years pass, Y/N visits Aegon and Helaena often. Watching their children grow. Twins named Jaehaera and Jaehaerys.

“He looks like you,” Y/N muses, holding his sweet boy.

Aegon smiles, wistfully. Stroking a hand over the back of his son’s hair as he stares at her. What might our children have looked like? He kisses her cheek, “indeed.”

Y/N and Helaena understand each other well enough. Helaena loves Aegon as a brother and nothing more.

Helaena tells her, “I find myself happiest when you are near, as does he.”

Y/N holds her hand out, hoping the other woman will take it. “I should like to be here more, help with the children.”

“Aemond would wed you.” Helaena says, as if the offer is no more complex than the color of the sky. “He likes you well enough and has no qualms about your feelings for Aegon.”

That was before he killed Lucerys. A distant dream now. Y/N makes her way into the castle as servants hustle about.

“The King and Queen have lost their only son.”

Y/N finds the children’s apartments undetected; unable to believe what she has heard until she sees….one bed instead of two.

The door jostles open and someone steps inside, muttering to themselves. A voice Y/N knows well, she waits, huddled in the corner, until she can be certain they are alone.

“Helaena,” her name is whispered from the shadows, as she paces her children’s chamber.

She’s seen nothing of Aegon since the incident, she has been largely alone. Her mother and husband focus largely on finding the men responsible. Helaena knows it will change nothing. Instead she clutches the throw blanket embroidered for her son.

“Helaena,” the voice sounds, again. Y/N creeps out of the corner. Her eyes wide and haunted.

She isn’t real. She can’t be.

“I am so sorry for what’s happened.”

“You are always sorry.” In visions of her and when she stands before her. “Must be an awful way to live.”

Y/N swallows hard, “it is.”

“You are my brother’s only love…I believe he is yours. He’s often down at the pleasure house…wanting for you. You return to him like this? Now?”

Y/N assures her. “I wish only to see him.”

“I will not begrudge you happiness, nor him. But I’ve no wish to remarry, and I’ll have no more children. You might give him a son.” Helaena says.

“I did not come here to bed him, I came here tell him-”

Helaena’s eyes find Aegon’s. Whatever Y/N came here to do matters little now.

“You,” he sneers, approaching Y/N at a pace that sends Helaena scurrying from the room. “One wasn’t enough for you? You had to come yourself to finish the job?” Aegon takes Y/N’s face in his hands so harshly her jaw aches.

“No,” Y/N shakes her head.

“By raven, you might have contacted me.” His wide, mad eyes search hers.

“I thought it best to see you,” Y/N stammers, “so we might talk about this, the way we always have.”

“What is there to talk about?” Aegon scoffs, “my son is my legacy! My son is heir to the throne!”

“From the depths of my soul, I am sorry.” Y/N tells him.

“I never wanted this, I never wanted to marry Helaena, I never wanted to be King. I wanted to marry you, but I love my children. I wanted this to be peaceful and now it cannot be because your mother has killed my child. My sister is distraught, I am distraught.” Aegon pulls himself away, fighting for composure.

“That is why I’ve come.” Y/N tells him, “my mother did not order this, it was Daemon.”

Aegon runs a hand over his face, “so that fixes everything?”

“It doesn’t,” Y/N admits, “I know that much, but if we could stop this war-”

Aegon laughs, low and menacing. “I do not want to stop this war. I intend to fight it.”

“Aegon,” she breathes.

“Will you stand at my side or against me?”

“I have no wish to stand against you. Especially now, after all you have lost. But I would not know my place here.”

“Your place is with me.” Aegon insists.

“But Alicent-”

“I am the king. She made it so,” Aegon reminds her. “I love my mother, sister, and house. I will not abandon Helaena in this.”

“Of course not,” Y/N nods.

“Still you could…” Aegon moves back toward her, “be my wife. My second wife. Take the burden off Helaena.” He nods, “our children will be spared from acts such as these, when I am asked again to produce a male heir.”

“My love,” she cups his face in her hands, “I will do this for you. But not now, not like this.”

“I need you.” He argues.

Y/N strokes his cheeks, “I am here, the rest will sort.”

His lips are on hers then, in a soul crushing kiss. Pouring all of his sadness, loneliness and regret into it. “I love you.” It is a horrid, awful thing to say, following the death of his child, birthed by another woman.

“I love you too.”

He also mourns what might have been, had their mothers not been so stubborn. He wishes Jaehaerys were hers, it might have spared him. “Come with me.”

Y/N nods, allowing him to lead her down the hall to his rooms. Tearing at her clothes, and then his own, falling back onto the bed, with her beneath him. Panting as she stares up at him.

Aegon spits into his hand, wetting his cock as he does not have the patience for much more.

She means to tell him she’s never lied with a man, to warn him about her maidenhead. But she cannot bring herself to ask him to be gentle. She wants it to hurt…and it does. “Ahh.”

Aegon moves slowly, realizing what he’s done. The blood over his cock as he withdraws, “you were saving yourself?”

“It matters little.”

“It matters to me,” Aegon insists, “I’ve hurt you.”

“I want to do this for you.” She shakes her head, “I want you to split me open and bury your sorrows inside. I want to be yours. Your comfort, your strength.”

“Be my wife.”

“I will.”

“Be truthful with me.”

“I will.”

His strokes are slow and deep, kissing her sweetly as he fucks her perfect little cunt, getting her used to the feeling of fullness. “Does this hurt?”

“Yes,” Y/N admits.

Aegon slips a hand between them, rubbing her pearl in tight circles, “is that any better?”

Y/N gasps, “yes.”

Aegon smiles, “good.”

Y/N weaves her hands into his silver locks. Kissing him, holding him, consuming him. “I love you.”

Aegon groans, “I love you, dearly. I’ve longed for you each day we were apart.”

“Aegon.” She sighs, cunt tense with her impending peak.

“You’ll give me children, won’t you?”

“As many as you’d like.”

“And you will love them?”

“Of course,” Y/N nods.

“My daughter…Jaehaera, will you accept her and treat her as your own?”

Again, Y/N nods.

“Nothing could ever replace my son, but I will survive this, so long as I have you. Our children, Jaehaera, Helaena as well.”

Y/N smiles, “that sounds nice.” The love between Aegon and Helaena is not one she will ever understand. She loves her brother, but she has not bore him children. It would be different, surely.

Aegon lets out a sob as he empties his spend at the mouth of her womb.

Her high comes quick and unexpected, milking Aegon dry and pulsing around him. His cock softens, remaining inside her until he hardens again.

She is sore when morning comes and Aegon bathes her in rose water. Leaving his rooms only long enough to wed before returning to their bed.

Aegon is restless in those early moons, before Y/N’s belly begins to swell with child. She plays with Jaehaera and keeps Helaena company, she writes to her mother when time permits.

Jaehaera giggles loudly as Y/N toys with her doll, walking it towards her. The little girl points to Y/N’s belly.

“Soon.” Y/N tells her, “a little sister or brother for you to play with.”

Jaehaera nods.

Helaena looks to Y/N with a soft smile.

“You know which it is, don’t you?” Y/N can tell by her face.

“Aegon will be pleased,” Helaena says, with finality.

Based off her words, Y/N spends the next months under the impression she’s to have a son. Instead, she bears Aegon a daughter, then two more the following year.

The King does not mind, in fact, he has all but accepted that Jaehaerys would be his only son. Until their fourth child is born, a little boy with silver hair.

“He looks like you,” Y/N says, acknowledging the bittersweet irony of it all.

Aegon nods, with a sad smile, “indeed.”

Part 2

[aleksanderscult]

I love, love so much your blog! I recently finished Shadow and Bone trilogy and my head is like no thought, only Darklina xD So I'm really glad to have found this blog and read your thoughtfull meta!

I have so many thoughts about the trilogy (I've read SoC dualogy but I'm not that big of fan) so I will start with this question: What do you think was the purpose of the donkey dream sequency in S&S? I mean this:

Are they very poor? I ask Ana Kuya.

Not so poor as others.

Then why doesn't he buy a donkey?

He doesn't need a donkey, says Ana Kuya. He has a wife.

I'm going to marry Alina, Mal says.

Then Alina has another dream, where she's the girl but then floats to the sky, leaving the salt behind her.

While reading it, I thought it as a metaphor her being afraid of being with Mal, of becoming ordinary girl and being shackled to him. But with the ending of the trilogy, her losing powers and marrying Mal, didn't she just do that? What do you think LB intented to with this scene? I'm interested knowing your interpration.

Thank you so much, sweet anon! And welcome to this fandom!❤️❤️ You remind me of myself as I was almost a year ago. Be warned though: this suffering will never end. 🥲

Admittedly, I haven't analyzed this scene. Probably because it's too weird and painful.

This couple that they see on the road can really bring Malina flashbacks to the reader.

The man is joyful, carefree, whistling away without a care. He's every inch of Mal from the moment he's been introduced to us.

The woman is tired and struggling. She's Alina carrying this power inside of her without knowing it.

The man doesn't seem to care that his wife is exhausted. The same way Mal didn't seem to care when Alina was sick and dragging her feet. There is this obvious subordination that Mal wants to replicate. Unwillingly or not, Leigh Bardugo really kept Mal's character canon with this vision: he always wanted Alina to depend on him, not to have her own independence.

One could say that his statement "I'm going to marry Alina" is irrelevant with the previous conversation but it does look very suspicious, doesn't it? Mal, a mere child now, seeing this couple and finding it normal for the man to dominate his wife. Was he influenced by such scenes and therefore found them normal?

This scene could be interpreted as Baghra giving advice to Alina regarding her powers and what happens if you suppress them.

But still, why does it kinda look like the same "Have power but only so much as" shit again.

And to be grateful for what? For being a Grisha? Or maybe for having enough strength without needing to search for the remaining amplifiers.

Just like I said in the beginning, these scenes are really sad. For a woman to be compared to a donkey, for a young boy that wants to marry her and (very) possibly treat her that way makes you feel depressed inside. Especially if the reader is a woman too.

The first memory could be real. Or (and I lean on this interpretation) Alina unconsciously conjured a metaphor of how her relationship is with Mal. Deep down she knows how things really are (Mal is the master and Alina just a weak girl trying to catch up on this connection by suppressing the thing that keeps her healthy) but she pushes these things aside, deludes herself and clings on her love for him. The same way she did when she lost her powers. Just look what she said in "Rule of Wolves" to the Darkling. "I am happy. You never saw me this way". Meanwhile Alina's mental state: ☠️☠️

But how Bardugo thought about this scene? That Mal just made an innocent, romantic comment that didn't pass the vibe check. I'm very sure that she didn't want him to be sexist here (she cares about this character too much to spoil his reputation) but she bamboozled herself and made him look like a little prick. Ana Kuya's comment "He doesn't need a donkey. He has a wife" probably reflects the sexist world that Leigh created. Which, by the way, would be fine if she had only let her protagonist break away from these kind of "chains" and find her own power and purpose inside this story *gestures towards George R. R. Martin's female characters*.

[mist1e]

HAARLEP PLAYLIST

Much like with my Ascended Astarion playlist, I created a playlist for Haarlep only this time I used Google Sheets table and a ranking system to help myself. It, too, tells a story and all the s̲o̲n̲g̲s̲ i̲n̲ i̲t̲ a̲r̲e̲ i̲n̲ c̲h̲r̲o̲n̲o̲l̲o̲g̲i̲c̲a̲l̲ o̲r̲d̲e̲r̲

This story is about Haarlep meeting Tav and how this very ordinary acquaintance turned into something utterly unexpected.

Link to playlist on YouTube at the end of the post.

And now that all the normal people are just listening to the playlist, the nerds can click ‘keep reading’ to dive into the detailed breakdown of the story...

The playlist consists of 5 parts, and for each part I wrote a small drabble to share the vibe with you.

PART 1: HAARLEP

«Shhh… Hush, sweetheart, no need to make such a fuss. I haven’t even sunk my teeth into you yet. But do not fret, I’m not some rabid beast. I won’t lunge at you or tear you apart. I’m just a simple incubus, albeit an outstanding one.

What are incubi? I’m glad you asked.

We are the wielders of the enchanted word. Lords of the human soul. Masters of the all-consuming lust.

We breathe in air and breathe out passion. Love flows through our veins, voluptuousness drips from our fingertips, and our gaze ignites desire.

Your most daring dreams are our law. The innuendo swirling on the tip of your tongue is our feast. Guessing your desires before you even know them is like a drug to us.

Oh, you want to know more? Come closer, sweetheart. I never promised not to bite, but trust me, you are going to love it.»

1. Don’t Stop Me Now

Literally can imagine him waking up to this song.

Yeah, I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars On a collision course I am a satellite, I'm out of control I am a sex machine ready to reload Like an atom bomb about to Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, explode I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah 200 degrees that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit I'm traveling at the speed of light I wanna make a supersonic woman of you

2. Aimed to Kill

You've been checkin' under your bed to see if I'm there When you look back up I'm under you pullin' your hair Getting lost inside my world, you don't know where I've been Oh no, oh no, I feel it comin' And I tried to save a life with these diamond hands of mine But they're sharper than a knife, I aimed to kill And I tried to fix a heart with these lips that left some scars "I swear I won't do no harm," shh, I aimed to kill

3. Who Made You a Monster?

You've got a twisted way Of making it all seem fine Tricking the world to trust you But everything that you say Is some kind of sordid lie Who taught you how to lie so well? Who made you a monster? Who made you a monster?

4. The Devil is a Gentleman

He don't always come at midnight Burnin' red and talking sin But he knows how to play it just right If you gonna let him in Sleek along and brings you roses He's always got the words to say Just enough so you don't notice That you ain't nothing but his prey

5. Pass The Knife

Thought you had control, I'll strip you till you're bones Scraping your knees till you beg for more Cover you in scars, just to leave a mark Get you addicted, then tear you apart Pass me the knife and I'll eat you alive Take my time, I'll do it how you like it Pass me the knife and I'll eat you alive Love skin deep, you're only here to make me high

6. Terrible Things

All of the things that I've done Terrible things you would never believe Things that I've done, oh, how you'll run If you knew a single word of all of the things that I've done

7. Liquid Smooth

I see this one as a tenderness and longing for a connection, that is hidden deep inside.

I'm beautiful, I know 'cause it's the season But what am I to do with all this beauty? Biology, I am an organism, I'm chemical That's all, that is all I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too And feel my skin is plump and full of life, I'm in my prime I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe about to fall, capture me

8. Pure Imagination

The fantasy that he creates for the people whom he gets involved with.

Come with me and you'll be In a world of pure imagination Take a look and you'll see Into your imagination We'll begin with a spin Traveling in the world of my creation What we'll see will defy explanation

9. Mr. Sandman

He falls asleep, thinking to himself if there is a way to feel this longing that has been building inside him for quite some time during these lonely evenings in House of Hope, when all he did was waiting, wondering if Raphael would come to him or no. Next thing you know, Tav enters the boudoir...

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream Make her the cutest that I've ever seen Give her two lips like roses and clover And tell her that her lonely nights are over Sandman, I'm so alone Don't have nobody to call my own Please turn on your magic beam Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

PART 2: HAARLEP MEETS TAV

Haarlep leaned on the railing of the balcony and gazed thoughtfully into the distance. The grey ash-covered mountains drowned in a reddish haze. The ground beneath them was laced with a web of rifts, their bottomless depths blazing with lava flares. Dirty, colourless clouds drifted In the sky above the crooked-toothed mountain peaks. Avernus in all its ugliness.

His forked tongue lashed out of his mouth and wetted his parched lips. He drew in the air, heavy with dust that settled thickly in his lungs, and spat irritably over the balustrade.

He couldn’t resist tasting her, he just couldn’t. Damned girl.

Haarlep was used to being starved in the House of Hope. The howls of the damned souls and the flesh of devils were not sustaining in the slightest, and over the years, he just had to learn to control his hunger. There was certainly nothing good about it. Haarlep was weaker than he could be, it was harder for him to conjure magic, and sometimes in the mornings his veins painfully twisted into poisonous threads. It was the ache he could only relieve with exhausting, concentration-demanding meditation.

Haarlep's mind slipped into the vivid memories of yesterday.

Yesterday, he dreamed of his past life again… Feasts, masquerades, balls in the mortal world, where he could drink from four or five mortals in a course of a single evening, or even sneak around and drain a soul out of some petty wretch. And that last orgy at the Duke’s mansion? Haarlep closed his eyes and his nose tickled with the scent of the freshest rainbow caviar, which swam in the belly of a fish in the waters of Calimport the day before. His ears rang with the laughter of the young noblewomen, who used to lose their composure after the third glass of sparkling wine, pretending not to notice the lewd glances of the men smoking cigars in the half-dark corners of the room. And Haarlep… He was sitting in the centre of the hall on a golden throne — the Lord of that den of debauchery! — whilst the mortals were crawling on their knees, their faces drooping with lust, their hands reaching out to him as if he were their god… The memories ran through his body in a searing wave, and Haarlep involuntarily craned his neck, arching his back. Things had been different in his past life. The one he had before he fell to his knees in the presence of Mephistopheles.

Yesterday, when he opened his eyes and saw her in the Boudoir, Haarlep thought he was still dreaming. How could he have restrained himself? And was there any point in restraint?

Oh, how delicious she was… Her life essence flowed through his veins, blossoming with a long-forgotten arousal in his chest. Perhaps his starvation was to blame, but she tasted divine. Nothing like any other mortal he had had before. Purposeful, ambitious, a little naive, she opened herself to him like a soft book with a flowery spine and golden embossing, allowing him to drink in her deepest desires, fears, and dreams. And he did drink… At the moment of her climax, in the deep caverns of her soul, he tasted submission, desire to please, an urge to earn praise. Ah, if only he had a little more time! He would have guided her and under his tender yet insistent touch she would have unfurled like a beautiful flower in an overgrown garden. He would have nudged her to fall headfirst into the abyss of her darkest desires.

But he didn’t have enough time. It was all over in a flash. For some puzzling reason, she didn’t grab the Hammer and just slipped away unnoticed.

The faint scent of her arousal still lingered in the Boudoir, making Haarlep violently run his claws over his neck, crossing the impeccable skin with red brown marks. He had been hungry before, but now he was famished. All night after they’d met, he spent tossing and turning in bed, the silk sheets thrown to the floor, his fingers digging into the pillow.

Haarlep closed his eyes, which were stinging as if they were filled with sand, and rubbed the bridge of his nose nervously.

He must see her again.

He would sneak out of the House of Hope, follow the scent of her thoughts, and catch her again.

Consequences be damned.

10. Me and Mr Wolf

Hey little girl, you look so nice In the pretty red dress with those pretty black eyes Hello Mr. Wolf, oh what a surprise To find you here so deep in the night My dear little girl, what's the rush? How about supper, just the two of us? Oh Mr. Wolf, you want me to stay But I fear we'll regret it one day

11. Out Of Control — Haarlep

I watched her feet move, her hips they sway Does a hair flip then starts to say Oh my god, it's my favorite song I pull her close and she sings along We can't slow down even if we tried If the record keeps spinning so will I She likes disco and tastes like a tear Tells me don't stop dancing and she's pulling me near

12. Kill of the Night— Haarlep

The street's a liar I'm gonna lure you into the dark My cold desire To hear the boom, boom, boom of your heart I'm gonna catch ya I'm gonna get ya, get ya, oh, oh-oh I wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh You're my kill of the night

13. Terrible Thing — Tav

Oh for you, you terrible thing, you Terrible thing, you Terrible thing, you Beautiful thing Mm, you beautiful thing A wreck, a wreck you make You leave, you leave me in your wake Oh honey, let me go Aha, aha, don't you let me go

14. Tongues and Teeth — Haarlep

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel It's all that I can give to you, my dear And when you come in quick to steal a kiss My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear And I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything But if you're fine with that You can be mine like that

15. Horns — Tav

She got blood cold as ice And a heart made of stone But she keeps me alive She's the beast in my bones She gets everything she wants When she gets me alone Like it's nothin' She got two little horns And they get me a little bit

16. if u think i'm pretty

If you think I'm pretty, lay your hands on me Know you can't stop thinkin' 'bout it I know that you're shitty and you're bad for me But I can't stop thinkin' 'bout it Said you needed love, but you're only here for sex, and And I'm dyin' to be next Killed me once before, I just come back more obsessed with you

17. When You Say My Name — Haarlep

And does it scare you That I already know what you're into? You can say lеss, I bet I can guess That you say whatevеr to get me undressed Double dare you, tell me two lies Don't need no truths 'Cause I can see right through you You're no good at pretend I’m using your tricks that you use with your friends I like the way your mouth moves The way you say my name

18. Dirty Thoughts — Tav

I get dirty thoughts about you They get worse when I'm without you Does that mean that I'm going to hell? Or are you thinking them as well? But when you hold me In the fantasy, it's so convincing I shouldn't think the things I'm thinking But now I've gone and let them sink in

19. Eat You — Haarlep

Cause you've been sticky with your tricky words And I would crumble like a humble bird Now you're so tender with an ear I can bend And tell you how I feel I go hungry every night But not this time around I'm gonna eat you, you're my desire I'm gonna sharpen all my teeth and build a fire I'm gonna eat you, cook and defeat you I'm gonna breathe you in my lungs and make you mine

20. Sugar Water — Tav

My boy’s got a sharp twist, no, he’s wicked in the heart Feeds me sugar water just to keep me alive Saw him in my dreams again He’s wiping down the fingerprints Press so hard I float up to the sky It’s kind of tripping me up, babе I’ve got it bad for you Laying back sipping sugar water I’m so weak for thе things you do

21. salvation — Haarlep

Sleep with me Worship me Pray like I’m your god Find the light in my voice Treat us like it’s blasphemy Pray we don’t get caught Let me be your only choice I’ll deny you of salvation I’ll be the reason you repent Kiss me like I’m a conviction Beg for divinity in my breath

22. Pretty In The Dark — Haarlep

I want All the power and the pain I’ll love you in the flames Just tell me that you're mine I’ll be your beautiful obsession Center of attention That’s just what I like Run through your veins Got your heart to keep Calling my name Get down on your knees

23. A Dangerous Thing — Tav

Something about you is soft like an angel And something inside you is violence and danger I knew from the moment we met, you are a dangerous thing When you are with me, I feel like I'm living And living besides you can be unforgiving I knew from the very first step, you are a dangerous thing

PART 3: WHEN THE GAME TURNED SERIOUS

“What do you dream of?”

Haarlep lazily opened his eyes at the soft caressing sound of her voice. Just like always after their little romps, he was in a state of blissful indulgence, like a cat who got the cream. Usually, he would wait out the indolent peak of his satiety and then disappear from her sight again, bestowing her with a dazzling smile and a graceful flick of his wrist as a kiss goodbye. But today, for some reason, he felt overwhelmingly lazy and reluctant to leave.

He glanced down at her little head, which rested perfectly in the dent under his collarbone. The look on her face was pensive, and her delicate features were slightly tinged with a subtle sadness of some sort.

“I dream of having a unicorn,” he muttered.

“Really?” she perked up, but her eyes narrowed upon seeing his snickering grin. She grudgingly elbowed Haarlep in the side, eliciting a little chuckle from him. “I’m asking you seriously.”

“Look at me, mouse. Are these eyes capable of telling untruths?” he batted his eyelashes innocently.

She sighed, but smiled with her lips only and didn’t ask further. The predawn silence enveloped them once more, as the morning light was just beginning to bloom in the sky. The first tinkling glints of sunlight seeped through the open windows, and a biting daybreak rolled down their shoulders with chill.

She shivered and snuggled closer to him. She smelled of sex, girlish sweat, floral honey, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He inhaled her scent deeply, and the corner of his lips tugged up in a slight smile against his will.

Haarlep was brimming with her life essence, and the barely perceptible magical connection still weaved between them, leaving the flavour of her thoughts on his lips. Her mind was emanating feelings and emotions that, to his incubus sense, were as tangible as her warm shoulder under his palm. He felt she wanted him to ask. But he didn’t ask.

No. He had no desire to ask.

“And what do you dream of, little mouse?” The words slipped from his lips involuntarily, clearly having a mind of their own.

“I want to go back to the Feywild someday. To see the place where I grew up again. To see the old oak grove, and the Falls of the Rejected Bride… To see where my parents are buried.”

Haarlep slid the tip of his tongue over his lips, feeling the bitter tang of her sadness in his mouth, and it made him feel unimaginably wistful.

“What a marvellous dream you have, my dear — to visit a graveyard of memories and bodies.” He snorted and let out a cynical hum. “You should dream of visiting the shores of Lake Esmel in Amn. The sun is warm on the skin, the men, and women have a true lust for life, and the wine there is absolutely fabulous…”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant at all,” she muttered quietly.

He sighed.

“I know, little mouse,” Haarlep murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head, kissing her ashy hair. He closed his eyes and drew in her sadness with his nose. Damn, even her sadness tasted divine.

“Are you going soon?” she asked timidly. Her voice quivered with an unspoken hope.

Haarlep was silent. He took a deep breath again, deliberately intoxicating himself with her very nature.

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

24. FU In My Head — Tav

Take me closer, take my clothes off Oh I fantasize If I'm honest, it's more fun when you can't read my mind Sometimes I fuck you in my head I let you touch me when I'm lonely in my bed I wanna scream, but hold my breath The kinda thing that you would rather leave unsaid I got dirty wishes on my mind But you will never ever know that I I like to fuck you in my head You make me scream when there's nobody Just the thought of your body

25. Devil On My Shoulder — Tav

Every time I think I'm free, you're calling me Your love pulling me right back down Can't believe that I keep coming back But you make me feel so good I swore I'd never dance with you again Keep safe from the devil on my shoulder But you know me so well And you drag me to Hell I can't keep safe from the devil on my Keep safe from the devil on my shoulder

26. Maniac — Tav

You play girls like a man, but your eyes are like a child Your face is cool and calm, but your hair is wrecked and wild You hide behind your metaphors and pray that no one sees The fare behind your poker face: your dark and twisted needs Your fragile heart and your paper skin Such a beautiful boy filled with so much sin Your reflection is your very worst enemy Behind the glass is an angel, but the devil's beneath Let me in, wear me out Let me in, wear me out

27. You — Haarlep

What I would do to get into your head Crawl out my body into yours instead Swim through your veins all day and every fiber Raid your brain and all your desires If you only knew I would do anything For a taste of you I would do anything Just to see inside And no one else will do All that I want is to be you

28. the fruits — Tav

My love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him I have no time for confession For I'm too busy committing sins My love, you're something special I never met someone like you You made me fall from Heaven But I know just what I do But I don't I feel your hands grabbing my throat As you say

29. Rule #34 — Haarlep

I love that you shake When I ravage your skin It's so easy to bite with your hands pinned Shadows dancing on the sheets If you obey I might give you a treat Right now you're mine All mine Give in, you're mine All mine You look so good There on your knees Such a good girl, knows how to please Look at me, look me in the еyes Forget yourself Surrеnder your mind

30. Lovesick in Public — Tav

Last night you really got in my head How’d I get hung up on what you did When all you did was kiss my neck My cheek's red like a cherry Help me cause I am berry Lovesick in public I’m hooked on the way that you taste I know I’m headed for heartbreak

31. Good Looking — Tav

Play casino holes of my eyeballs Roll the dice on my thighs You stopped for breath and I sped up Just to impress you The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all I thought I'd uncovered your secrets but, turns out, there's more You adored me before Oh, my good looking boy

32. You Put a Spell on Me — Haarlep

Before I hunt you down Grab your chin and kiss your lips You bring me back I lay you down and grab your hips And we lose all control And before you know it I put a spell on you Now you're mine I've got a hold on you, at least for the night

33. Keep It Down — Haarlep

You shoot me up through the clouds I’m a hero in your mouth I'm the sickness you found I'm the fever you're about While I throw you around You're gonna scream ... Shhh: girl keep it down The scars you leave on my back A painting of your attack You're biting down on my fist I know you cannot resist

34. Good Looking — Tav

Pressure on my lips I die for just one kiss Wake, I can't resist Could I be dreaming this? How do I fake it with another man? How do I love him on the weekend? How do I listen to another man? How do I get off on the weekend? You're in my heart, in my heart, in my head

35. So Damn Into You — Haarlep

Can I have you forever? Every single night It started with a bang Don’t know how you got me so messed up But baby I won’t ever get enough, oh 'Cause I’m so damn into you I’m so damn into you

36. From Persephone — Tav

No, I wasn't threatened Mother, I was not bound No, I wasn't carried Off on his three headed hound 'Cause I packed my own bag, found my own way Down into the underground See, mama, he may seem gruesome But he's even got a dog And don't you know that death is A very stable job? 'Cause I love my baby, tall, dark Hades Lord of death is down on his knees for me

37. Hearts a Mess — Tav

Pick apart the pieces of your heart And let me peer inside Let me in where only your thoughts have been Let me occupy your mind as you do mine You have lost too much love To fear, doubt and distrust, it's not enough You just threw away the key to your heart Don't get burned 'cause nothing gets through It makes it easier, easier on you That much more difficult for me To make you see

38. Closer — Haarlep

I wanna fuck you like an animal I wanna feel you from the inside I wanna fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God You can have my isolation You can have the hate that it brings You can have my absence of faith You can have my everything

39. Choke — Tav

You are a shadow Following me where I go I'd be better without you What are you doing to me? I'm suffocating Don't know how to explain it But I feel like I'm fading What are you doing to me? Loosen your grip before I choke Can't catch my breath, I'm gonna choke I wish that you'd just let me go I don't want this, I promise, just leave me alone Loosen your grip beforе I-

40. she calls me daddy — Haarlep

It might be a little superficial She plays with the boys But she comes home to me Little fucked up but I think it's official ’Cause she might be your girl But she's calling me daddy She's mi-i-i-ine She wears a collar with my name Secretive but not ashamed She's mi-i-i-ine But I'd never tie her down They always come around now

41. The Masochism Tango — Tav

I ache for the touch of your lips, dear But much more for the touch of your whips, dear You can raise welts like nobody else As we dance to the Masochism Tango Let our love be a flame, not an ember Say it's me that you want to dismember Blacken my eye, set fire to my tie As we dance to the Masochism Tango

42. Wicked Game

The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you What a wicked game to play To make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do To let me dream of you

PART 4: OBSESSION

“Say it! I want to hear you say it!” It was not a spoken word, but a rasping growl that erupted from his chest. He loomed over her, with his back rounded, and bristled, like a wild beast over its prey.

His fingers clenched harder on her throat.

She dug her small fingernails into his straining arm. Wet strands of her fringe clung to her forehead, covered in beads of sweat. Her eyebrows were raised piteously, her emerald eyes fixed on his face. She parted her plump cherry lips wide as she gulped in the rhythmic breaths of air.

“I am yours,” she replied hoarsely. “I am yours, Haarlep. Yours… Haarlep! Haarlep. Haarley…”

He growled again and thrust his hips into hers with abandon. She cried out, running her trembling fingers through his wavy black hair, pulling it gently. Her emotions exploded like fireworks in his mind, blurring in coloured circles under his closed eyelids. He pushed his hips against hers like a man possessed, drowning in her sweet surrender. She was under him, and she was everywhere, enveloping him like a raging torrent. Her fragility tingled along his spine, her sincerity squeezed his heart like a vice, her vulnerability stroked him with hundreds of gentle fingers, her trust filled his very being with a velvety warmth.

He couldn’t drink enough of her, couldn’t inhale her with his full lungs. He could barely restrain himself from devouring her whole without a shred left.

As always with her, the pulsing life essence flowed easily, like a chiming stream, she gave it to him willingly. Despite the intoxicating madness threatening to overwhelm him, he tried to take as little as possible so as not to hurt his little mouse in any way.

“You’re driving me mad,” he growled into her ear in a frenzy, his fingers on her neck tightening into a bruising grip.

“I want you to go mad! Lose your mind! Go insane! For me…”

His hips picked up a punishing rhythm

She shrieked and dug her nails into his shoulders, forcing him to arch his back. Clenched like a spring, she stiffened and quivered beneath him, out of breath. Her consciousness blazed like a bonfire on Midsummer Night, spilling her life essence. It crushed him like a storm wave, drowning him in rapture. With the last thrust, Haarlep froze and shuddered, feeling the physical bliss merge with the cascade of her emotions flashing in his mind.

He collapsed on top of her, pressing himself against her hot chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her legs around his hips, unwilling to let him go, pulling him greedily against her body. Her hoarse and frequent breathing burned his temple.

“Yours… Yours… And you are mine. My Haarley…” she whispered, choking on euphoria, trembling with delight.

With a growl that shook his chest, he slipped his arms under her back, pulling her close, so tight that it was probably hard for her to breathe.

“What have you done to me, mouse?” he exhaled, his whisper tinted with a hint of desperation and confusion.

“I bewitched you. Enchanted you, spellbound you, charmed you, beguiled you. Now you’re not going anywhere.”

For a few moments, only their laboured breaths echoed in the silence of their secret sanctuary.

"I am not,” he agreed and captured her sweet lips in a tender kiss.

43. I Wanna Be Yours — Haarlep

Let me be your 'leccy meter An' I'll never run out Let me be the portable heater That you'll get cold without I wanna be your setting lotion (Wanna be) Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?) At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean I wanna be yours

44. The Cult Of Dionysus

I'm feeling devious You're looking glamorous Let's get mischievous And polyamorous Wine and women and wonderful vices Welcome to the cult of Dionysus Run, run, run away Just take my hand and we'll abandon this world We'll wash those tears away You're young and beautiful, and I'll love you always We got no time for pain When it's just you and me in ecstasy

45. Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene — Haarlep

I watch the work of my kin, bold and boyful Toying somewhere between love and abuse Calling to join them the wretched and joyful Shaking the wings of their terrible youths Freshly disowned in some frozen devotion No more alone or myself could I be Lurched like a stray to the arms that were open No shortage of sordid, no protest from me

46. Obsessed With You — Haarlep

Your smile sets my heart aflame Electrocute me with your eyes The very mention of your name My stomach fills with butterflies Your love is better than cocaine I need you more than oxygen I've got it bad again An O-B-S-E-S-S-I-O-N But I want to get next to you Yeah, I love all the things you do I want to get close to you You are my dream come true I want to have sex with you Your sweet caress won't do Cause I'm obsessed with you

47. Misery Meat — Tav

You want a taste of my brain? Okay, it's yours anyway A bite of my eye? Alright I won't put up a fight As you open up my ribs the blood flows out like a river You strip my bones away as you indulge in my liver And the more that I am in pain The more that you'll gain And to me, that seems like a pretty fair trade

48. High Enough — Haarlep

Do you see anyone other than me? Baby, please I'll take a hit of whatever you got, maybe two, maybe three Oh, you're phenomenal, feel like a domino, fall to my knees I am a malady, you are my galaxy, my sweet relief I used to like liquor to get me inspired But you look so beautiful, my new supplier I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking But I found a different buzz

49. Dear Alice (Rainy Days) — Haarlep

I'm losing my faith in you, my long-lost friend, Alice Roses have lost their colors And it's breaking my heart (Ah) You take my breath away And I don't know what to do And I don't know what to do Before you say your last word That makes me want To lay you down I'll kiss, I'll touch, I'll cut you into the pieces And you feel the same And you'll know my crave And you'll see that I'm The only one for you

50. I Am Your Skin — Haarlep

I wanna be your skin I wanna feel everything you feel I will be your covering And I will hide you inside of me With every breath in harmony I wanna be your skin I wanna be your covering

51. Desire — Haarlep

Baby, I wanna touch you I wanna breathe into your will See, I gotta hunt you I gotta bring you to my hell Baby, I wanna fuck you I wanna feel you in my bones Boy, I'm gonna love you I'm gonna tear into your soul

52. Obsessed — Tav

I wanna feel you in my arms Hold you hostage in my heart It’s true 'Cause I'm so obsessed with you Your every word, I pick apart Down to the punctuation marks All you do 'Cause I'm so obsessed with you Oh, with you

53. Spiracle — Haarlep

I want the parts of you You only show to the birds outside your bedroom window I want the teeth that you lost as a child That you hide in a box under your pillow I want your secrets, your clementine fields The ropes that you climb up, the parts that won't heal I want your safe word, your passive resistance The sickness you foster, your favorite addictions And I want your nightmares, the ghost in your doorway Your paralyzed sleeping, your- (Aaaah) I want you butterfly, I want you sailor I am your lover and I am your jailor

PART 5: VANILLA CREAM FLAVOUR

“All right. Take it off.”

Smirking, Haarlep pulled the silk blindfold off, and smiled at her ruddy face and eyes sparkling with mirth. He raised his gaze and looked ahead.

From the high hill where they sat, they could see Baldur’s Gate harbour buzz lazily beneath them. It was slowly preparing to shake off the last cargoes, sigh with its sleepy waves, and retire to rest for the day. The half sunk into the bay of the Chionthar River, casting a golden shimmering glow over its rippling surface. Haarlep lowered his eyes. Before him, on the blanket spread on the ground, she laid out small plates packed with all sorts of savoury delicacies. One was filled with green grapes and strawberries, the other with neatly arranged cheese and sausages, appetisingly glistening with fat. Nearby stood bowls of buns and sweet rolls of various kinds.

“Somehow this picnic looks suspiciously like a date,” he placed a finger on his chin with feigned thoughtfulness.

She shook her head.

“A date? What a silly thing to say. We’re going to unromantically stuff our faces with this unappetising food, that’s all there is to it,” she tossed a grape into the air. He caught it, and it burst in his mouth, spraying sweet juice on his tongue.

Haarlep sank to the grass and rested his head in her lap. She immediately ran her nimble fingers through his hair, stroking it absent-mindedly, as she was gazing out into the distance, at the orange sun setting in Chionthar.

They were silent. Haarlep had long ago realised that it was nice to be silent with her.

Wide over the water resounded the shouts of the workers, who wrapped up the unloading of the last fishing schooner. A loud crack of a wooden crate breaking reached their ears, accompanied by the selected swearing of the cargo handlers.

“You know, I’ve come to realise one rather curious thing,” Haarlep mused thoughtfully. “I know very little about mortals.”

“How so?” she snapped out of her reverie and, for a moment, stopped flicking through his hair and looked down at him. “You can reach into the most secret nooks and crannies of a person’s mind, find out things about them that even they themselves are unaware of.”

“Yes. Except I was looking for a very different thing.”

She continued to stroke him, running the silky strands of his hair through her fingers, as she studied him with an expectant gaze. Haarlep noticed how sweetly she always nibbled on her lower lip when she was curious, and smiled at his observation.

“I’ve always looked for the weaknesses, to see what buttons I can push to get what I need from a mortal, and I’ve always succeeded. I searched into their past. Their traumas, their fears, their most depraved sexual experiences and lusts. All other sides of humanity were always foreign to me. I considered them useless. But after glimpsing into your head, I changed my mind.”

She raised her arched eyebrows, and Haarlep’s mind responded to her emotion. Her sudden sky-blue surprise flashed before his inner gaze, her wonder glided tenderly over his arms like a soft caress. And amidst it all, there was something else — a subtle, salty undertone, tinged with pure, unadulterated hope.

Lately, she had been emitting life essence a little at a time almost constantly, and Haarlep didn’t even need to do anything to elicit it. He had never encountered something like this before. He had to resist the temptation to indulge his innate greed and delve into her. The trust she exhibited never ceased to amaze him.

“I became curious and looked a little deeper. I’ve seen your strength, tasted your fascination with the world, touched your thoughts about the future. And that’s just a small portion of you. There’s so much more...”

He grinned and shook his head slightly.

“I can’t believe it never occurred to me to do this before.” He fell silent halfway through the sentence, and sank deeper into his thoughts, but after a moment he smiled at her again and added, “I guess I just didn’t care. But with you, little mouse, everything is different. Perhaps you did bewitch me?”

“Of course I did. I have a witch’s eye.”

She leaned closer, rolling her eyes and made a funny face, eliciting a laugh from him. Oh, what a dummy.

Delighted that she had managed to humour him, she straightened up again.

“How does it feel to drink the life essence of a human?”

“Oh, it’s the most marvellous feeling.”

Haarlep sighed, and his gaze drifted towards the sky. The cirrus clouds scattered like weightless pinkish-orange silk threads across the deep blue canvas. Their weightlessness and ephemeral nature made him think they were about to dissolve right before his eyes, but they froze in the sky like translucent butterflies caught on a pin.

“Life essence differs from mortal to mortal,” he continued. “It contains their unique nature. In the moments of supreme physical delight, the mortal becomes vulnerable enough for an incubus to harvest it with ease. It’s like crushing a ripe peach in your hand and catching its sweet juice with your lips. The essence is coloured by human emotions and feelings, and each one we can taste, like a hint of flavour in a wine.”

She hummed thoughtfully and twisted a small strand of his hair around her index finger.

“It does sound marvellous.”

Haarlep shifted his gaze to her.

“Every emotion is not only a taste but also a colour, a smell, and sometimes even a sense of a touch. For instance, when I pin your wrists to the bed above your head, you quiver so sweetly… I feel a prickly shiver run down my spine, and you smell like the first snowdrop on an early Alturiak morning: meltwater, almonds, and a promise of warmth.”

She blushed, and an embarrassed smile flickered across her lips. Haarlep smiled back at her.

“It’s like I feel the world with your skin and through you. Your senses mingle with mine, your consciousness flows into mine, the reality bursts with new colours and expands like a star exploding.” He reached out and cupped her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. “I love looking at this world with you. I see things I never knew existed before.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, surrendering to his caressing touch.

There it was. Again. He felt it again.

“You know, there’s something quite mysterious about your life essence. No matter how many times I taste it, I can’t figure it out…” he frowned, and his hand fell limply to the grass along his body. “Every feeling and thought you have, they all have the same tinge, the same unknown flavour to me. Something very soft and sweet and enveloping, like… like…”

Haarlep fell silent, trying to find the words to describe this incredible sensation that made him want to squeeze his eyes shut. One that spreads with homely warmth through his body, rolls with tenderness across his tongue, drips from his fingertips akin to molasses.

“Like vanilla cream?” she suggested.

He fired a glare at her.

“Yes! Sounds about right…”

She blushed even more and turned her face to the setting sun again.

Of course, she knew what that vanilla-cream flavour of her feelings was.

And deep down, so did he.

54. Life Worth Living — Tav

Take what you need, darling I'm just here for you Ooh ooh ooh ooh (oh) Give me your love and Physical affection Ooh ooh ooh ooh Give me the worst of you to hold You to take me to the heavens Give me the best of all your grace You make life worth living

55. Love Like You — End Credits — Haarlep

If I could begin to be Half of what you think of me I could do about anything I could even learn how to love When I see the way you act Wondering when I'm coming back I could do about anything I could even learn how to love like you

56. Hardest of Hearts — Tav

There is love in your body but you can't hold it in It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts There is love in your body but you can't get it out It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth Sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste Darling heart, I loved you from the start But you'll never know what a fool I've been

57. I Might As Well Die With You — Haarlep

Oh baby When I see your face Too beautiful for this place Don't let the vice and the bad deals Let it go to waste Over and over and over again Oh baby Spiraling out of control God save me Falling in love at the end of world Just take me now What’s the use? I Might as well die with you

58. Souls on Fire — Tav

Do you feel the burn between our hearts Souls on fire A strange desire Have you given in To this ancient ritual I don’t know how long we’ve been apart But we’re the same old souls playing different parts Same old souls playing different parts Picking up the broken pieces of our hearts

59. She — Haarlep

This is the song that started this playlist and it happened so that it ends it. A huge heartfelt thank you to @mina-astarvara for sharing it with me in the first place.

She may be the face I can’t forget A trace of pleasure or regret May be my treasure or the prize I have to pay She may be the reason I survive The why and wherefore I’m alive The one I’ll care for through the rough And ready years Me, I’ll take her laughter and her tears I’ll make them all my souvenirs Oh, where she goes I’ve got to be The meaning of my life is she

YouTube Link:

[magicalbuttertarts]

AEW Masterlist

For Love & Country (AU)

Will Ospreay x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: nothing I can think of.

Requested by @madhatterbri . Hope you like it. I kind of changed it a bit. Hope you still like it.

From my previous account plentyoffandoms.

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

WC: 1278

After that night of the 16th of December, I kept quiet. I burned the male clothes I was wearing, scrubbed my face clean of the soot I had put on it to hide my identity.

I snuck back into my family home and woke up the next morning like I was not a part of what many people would consider treason, but with the ridiculous high tax on the tea, something had to be done.

The town asked for the ships to return back to England. We waited for them to leave, but they never did.

So we took matters into our own bands, turning Boston Harbour into a teapot. I do not know how many chests of tea were thrown overboard, but it had to be done, or the cargo would have been seized by the Royal authorities, and the town people would be forced to pay a duty on the cargo.

Over the next couple of days, I kept my head low and did not do anything out of the ordinary. That would bring unwanted attention to myself or my family.

That was until amongst the town, there was a rumour of a smaller cargo ship that was docked close by but hidden away, as to force the people of Boston to pay the duty on it, and get tea back into the homes and shops.

I stole my brother's clothes once more, knowing he would not miss them as he had grown out of them and joined the small group to destroy the tea on that ship.

◆

Under the cover of nightfall, many of us descended upon the ship. The air was cold and hurt my face. My hands were freezing, even with the gloves covering my hands.

Just as we were halfway done, that is when everything became pure chaos.

British troops seemed to come from all sides of the ship. I dropped what I was holding and ran.

I heard one behind me, ordering me to stop, but there was no way I was stopping. Not when I know what will happen to me, even more so once they find out I am a woman.

I ran, slipping on the icy path, until I came to the small body of water. I could try to make it across, but just as I went to step on the ice, I was pulled back and thrown to the ground, a musket pointing in my face.

I couldn't hear what he was saying to me, as I was truly scared for my life in this very moment.

The soldier put the musket beside him as he was grabbing my shirt, pulling me closer to his handsome face.

At that very moment, the hat I was wearing fell off, and my hair that I had hastly put in my hat came tumbling around my shoulders.

He stopped talking and looked at me, with confusion over his face.

"You're a woman!" The man exclaimed.

WILL OSPREAY'S POV

Her and I just looked at one another, not saying anything.

"OSPREAY, ANYONE OUT THERE?" I heard the sound of my friend Kyle calling out.

"NO, THEY GOT AWAY." She looked up at me with suprise.

I stood up, holding my hand out to her, which she grabbed out, and I helped her up.

"Go." Was all I said.

"Thank you." She softly said as she turned and ran. I waited until she was out of my view before I turned to join my fellow soldiers.

◆

A few days went by, and we were still in Boston, and I couldn't get her face out of my mind. I close my eyes, and there she is, just staring up at me in surprise as I let her go.

I knew what could happen to her if she was found, and I didn't want anything to happen to her.

As we I walked down the cobblestone streets, I looked for her, but no woman reminded me of her. I was with Kyle, and he was talking about this woman he was courting, Skylar, when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

I turned around, ready to tell the person to leave me alone, when I came face-to-face with the face that had been haunting my dreams and every waking moment.

"Ospreay?" She asked me, I nodded my head yes.

"William, well Will. Ospreay is my family name."

"May we have a moment to talk?" She questioned, staring over my shoulder at Kyle.

I reached around and waved Kyle away, and I could hear him laughing as he left the two of us alone. I could see that a woman around her age was not far, keeping an eye on the both of us.

"I want to thank you." She said, keeping her voice low. "You could have turned me in."

"You would have been charged with treason and put to death."

"I still wished to thank you."

"Just tell me your name. It is all I ask for." She told me her name. I recognised her family name. One of the wealthier families that are loyal to the crown.

"Your family are loyal to the crown, yet you decided to become a Rebel." This woman is puzzling me.

"I just do not agree with the taxes that are placed on the tea. My family can afford it, but there are plenty of people who can not, and what else will they tax?"

"That is not of our concern. The King is the King. We do not question it."

She went to speak again but closed her mouth, said goodbye, and turned around, and left me standing there, alone, once more.

◆

Ever since that day I saw her again, I became grumpy. So much so that no one wanted to partner with me unless it was an order.

I would see her in the crowd of the town, and she would ignore me. I have no idea why this even bothered me, as I was not courting her.

But then, one day, I saw her, and her and I made eye contact. I waited to see what she would do, but she stood there, her gaze never wavering.

"Go and speak to her." Kyle said to me, as he stood next to me.

"She does not wish for me to speak to her." I told him.

"And yet, she can not stop staring at you." I looked back at her, and he was correct.

I took a deep breath and walked across the square, people moving out of my way.

"I wish to apologise, Will. I did not mean to speak out of turn."

"Please, do not apologise. I understand where you are coming from."

"I must be frank, Will. You have been the only thing that has occupied my mind."

"And you have occupied my mind as well."

"I tried to push you out of my mind, as I know you will leave soon." She said to me.

"Not any time soon. The Rebels have made the King rethink about us leaving. He is keeping us here until he sees fit."

◆

I started to court her, even though I knew she was the one for me. When asked how we met, I would say that I saw her walking, and she took my breath away.

That seemed to appease her family and friends.

We got married as soon as we could, the real way how we met, forever will remain a secret between the two of us.

But as she wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me, as I laid her on our bed, how we first met does not matter anymore.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @madhatterbri @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

[michelleleewise]

🌹Her Romeo🌹

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: all the fluff!! Minor violence (Samantha gets what she deserves).....

Summary: you and Loki begin the rest of your lives together....

A/n- aaahhh!! Here we are at end!! Thank you all so much for all the love and support!! This was so much fun to write and share with you all!!!

Part Six--Part seven (finale)-

You rolled over, slowly opening your eyes seeing the sunlight softly streaming through the gossamer curtains hanging around the bed. You smiled, stretching your back feeling the arm around your middle. You turned your head, seeing Loki's long dark curls settled delicately around his head, a few stray curls resting across his face. You turned your body towards him, gently picking up the rogue curls placing them behind his ear seeing the corner of his lips curl up. "Mmm..y/n." He murmured, his voice deep and rough making you shiver. "I...I love you." He mumbled turning his face into the pillow.

You smiled at the thought of this beautiful, ethereal man dreaming about you...plain, ordinary you. "I love you too Loki." You whispered into his ear feeling him tremble slightly, a deep hum resonating from him. You slowly backed up, carefully sliding his arm off of you as he grabbed your pillow hugging it to his chest making you giggle. You got up, quickly getting dressed you took one last look at Loki, the sheets pooled around his waist, snuggling your pillow you smiled as you quietly slipped out heading downstairs.

"Morning y/n." You heard as you reached the bottom "Hey Val, is there coffee?" You asked walking towards the kitchen "yup, just made a fresh pot." She said walking in behind you "have you and Loki talked yet?" She asked, a smile spreading across her face as you pulled a mug from the cabinet. "Yeah...about that." You started when another voice from behind you made you jump "good morning Valerie." Loki said nodding as he walked past her coming up behind you "Darling." He purred, wrapping his arms around your middle kissing the top of your head. "Morning Loki." You said, turning in his arms leaning up you wrapped your arms around his neck gently kissing him. "Well, im glad the two of you talked." You heard Val say as you pulled back.

"Well...we deeeefinately talked." You smiled hearing Loki laugh "wait...you...oh my God you two." Val said grabbing her mug "your buying me new sheets" she yelled walking out of the room making you both laugh. "I was going to let you sleep Loki." You smiled up at him "as much as I appreciate that my dear I would much rather bathe in your light as much as I can." He said smiling back at you. "Silvertongue indeed." You smirked turning back around "did you want some tea?" You asked grabbing another mug "that would be delightful darling." He said leaning against the counter. A comfortable silence settling over you both as you set the kettle on the stove grabbing the tea bags.

You cleared your throat, gathering your courage "when is your next performance?" You asked looking up at him "there will not be another, I resigned my position." He said making you freeze "but...you loved that play, and I didn't want you to..." you were cut off by his lips pressing gently to yours, cupping your cheek he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes "after everything that happened I cannot and will not work with that...woman again." He said, his voice stern "so I told the director I will not be returning" He finished. Hearing the kettle scream you stepped back turning the stove off "loki, I never wanted to take what you love away." You said looking down "Darling, you did nothing to cause this. Do not blame yourself." He said hugging you from behing

"besides, there will be other plays...if you allow me to pursue that avenue." He said resting his chin on your shoulder. "Of course I will Loki, I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do." You said turning to face him "and I promise I will talk to you, if I am uncomfortable with something." You said fidgeting with the button on his shirt. "That is all I ask my love, I do not wish to cause you any pain and if I am please tell me, so I may rectify it at once." He said placing a finger under your chin tilting your head up "I will, I promise." You smiled "good girl, now let's go speak to Val about her sheets and go home." He said grabbing both your mugs making you laugh "sounds fantastic." You said following him to the living room.

(6 months later)-

You jumped to your feet, the clapping thundered through the theater as the players came back to the stage to take another bow "He really was marvelous wasn't he sister?" You barely heard over the applause. Looking over smiling at thor "He really was." You said grabbing his hand "come on, let's head back." You yelled pulling him behind you. "I am not sure I am the one he wants to see." Thor said making you laugh "nonsense, he loves you." You said glancing back at him "if you say so." He laughed as you walked up to the security guard "Hey y/n, go on back." He smiled opening the door for you "thanks!" You yelled continuing to drag Thor behind you.

You looked around at everyone rushing around, stomping down the memories of the last time you were here "come on, this way." You said keeping ahold of his hand so you didn't lose him in the mass of people when you came to the dressing rooms, making your way to Loki's seeing the door open "y/n...Thor...come in!" You heard Loki, looking up seeing him still in costume "Brother, you were amazing." Thor said stepping inside "Thank you thor." Loki said holding his hand out when Thor engulphed him in a hug making you laugh. "You really were incredible Loki." You said making him smile "thank you my dear." He said as Thor released him.

"Do you have a restroom in here? I didn't want to miss any of the play." You said shifting back and forth "yes darling, right through there." He said pointing to a door off to the side "I'll be right back." You said kissing his cheek seeing him smile. You finished up, washing your hands you looked up in the mirror tucking a stray hair behind your ear when you heard a woman's voice on the other side. "Looooki...." you cringed, knowing that voice anywhere "you need to leave." You heard Loki's voice. "Aww baby, I just wanted to congratulate you." She cooed as you threw the towel down on the sink, anger pulsing through you as you flung the door open.

You stepped out seeing Thor and Loki standing where you left them, and Samantha standing in the middle of the room, the smile on her face making your blood boil "I thought I told you to stay away from me." Loki snapped not taking his eyes off of her "well I thought maybe we could start over, give us another shot." She smiled taking a step towards him when all the feeling from that night bubbled to the surface "you will stay away from him." You snapped, her eyes meeting yours "oh y/n, what a...surprise." She sneered crossing her arms as you stepped between her and Loki "you need to leave." You growled taking a step towards her

"it's adorable how you think you'll be able to hang onto him." She sneered "all those nights we we spent together...the kiss we shared..." she smiled making your face heat up "loki, when your through...slumming...you know where to find me." She said beginning to turn when you grabbed her shoulder, turning her back to you your fist met the side of her face, hitting her hard as she fell down holding her cheek "if I ever see you around him again...you wont be able to walk out of here" You sneered seeing her eyes widen "go...now." you growled as she stood up quickly leaving. You took a deep breath turning around seeing thor and loki staring at you "what?" You asked as Thor laughed "that's what she gets!" He yelled patting Loki's shoulder "I will be waiting outside." He said walking out closing the door behing him.

You looked up at Loki, the shock still evident on his face "i...I'm sorry, I was just so angry and when she..." you trailed off feeling his hand wrap around yours lifting it up "did you hurt your hand love?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours "no...well a little." You whispered when he brought it up gently kissing it, his lips cold against your skin making you shiver. "There is no need to apologize darling, she deserved your wrath." He said smiling. "I didn't want to ruin your night Loki, Thor and I planned on taking you to dinner and when she came in.." you were cut off by his finger pressing softly against your lips "you did not ruin anything love, if anything you made it better." He smiled "now, where are you taking me...my valkyrie." He asked cupping your cheek. "Well....we thought dinner and then maybe drinks." You whispered, the green of his eyes mesmerizing you as he looked at you "as long as I am with you I care not where we go." He said smiling.

"But....we will need to ditch your brother for my plans." You winked hearing him laugh. Wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you to him "oh my love..My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep, the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite." He cooed. "Silvertongue..." you purred leaning up brushing your nose against his "only for you my love..." he whispered, tilting his head down pressing his lips to yours, your fingers threading through his long hair deepening it, feeling his tongue slide across your bottom lip. A deep moan escaping him as your lips parted, your tongue gliding against his before pulling back nipping his bottom lip. Pressing your forehead to his "there is witchcraft in your lips love." He whispered, his warm breath fanning your lips "come on romeo, your brother is waiting." You smiled pulling back "as the lady wishes." He smiled, lifting his hand a green light surrounded him as his costume melted away leaving him in his black suit and tie making you bite your lip "shall we?" He asked grabbing your hand he walked you to the door.

You felt your face heat up looking down seeing his muscular thighs stretch the material, the way it accentuated his backside....yes, you were definitely gonna ditch Thor........

@lady-rose-moon @your-taste-on-my-lips @noideakitten @loopsisloops @pics-and-fanfics @animnerd @arsonfrogger @usagishira @myworldgoesboomz @thomase1 @lokiandbuckysdoll @kats72 @littlespaceyelf @janineb86 @mochie85 @lokiprompts @eleniblue @fictive-sl0th @jin0x0 @crimson25 @johnmurphys-sass @marygoddessofmischief @goblingirlsarah @asgardianprincess1050 @ladyofthestayingpower @jaidenhawke @lastlovesong17 @nina25sblog @simplyholl @evelyn-rathmore @lokidokieokie @yelkmelk @cyntanism @javagirl328 @libbybeaz @loki-laufeyson-1054 @commanding-officer @lokixryss @lokisninerealms @chloesmessylife @high-functioning-lokipath @nate-ate-hate @pianomad @jennyggggrrr @ladymischief11 @vickie5446 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @irishhappiness @avoliax @writingsfromsaturn

[scullysflannel]

I really do think having to watch the Doctor host a happy little backyard dinner party hammered home how uninterested I am in emotional stability on Doctor Who. Donna is my favorite companion and the Tenth Doctor era was the peak of my obsession, but the idea that this should mean I want to see them “happy forever” is so boring as a tv fan and so insidious in the context of this specific show, which has been built on the inevitability of change for 60 years. the thing about Doctor Who is that it’s optimistic and aimed at children and endless and therefore full of loss. it has to be both. and not to be presumptuous, because I understand that Russell T. Davies is grieving his husband, but in the long run I would think anyone who’s grieving will get more out of watching the Doctor carry on and find new people to care about than they will out of watching a fantasy where the Doctor regresses to an old face and magically gets a second chance with a friend he once lost.

in the language of the show, this happiness isn’t just narratively cheap but also kind of terrifying. this is the kind of thing we see in dream sequences that are killing the characters slowly. watching the show do it for real (unless we're really in for a surprise) is unnerving. it also asks us to forget something fundamental about Tennant’s Doctor: that no matter how human he seemed, he wasn’t. the tragedy that energizes his story is that he’s so close to the life he thinks he wants and he can’t have it. and it’s a two-way tragedy, for both him and his companion, because at different points they both believe the lie he’s telling himself (that he’s basically human), only to be hit with the reminder that he’s still so alien. he wants to not have to watch his friends grow old and die without him. he doesn’t want a mortgage.

what makes Tennant’s Doctor interesting is that his humanity also comes with a god complex: cruelty, pettiness, callousness, cluelessness, ego. he loves Rose, but he likes the idea of settling down with her more because it’s unattainable. and Donna — she was going to travel with him forever! he took her away from a boring life. it’s nice that she’s happy with the life she has now, even if it undercuts the tragedy that made her original ending so visceral, but I think making her so settled that she even domesticates the Doctor is overcompensating. it’s sanding down that tension again — that great tension between romanticizing everyday things like getting a taxi home and romanticizing running away from a life that makes you feel unimportant. again, the show has to be both. all the best dynamics in Doctor Who, at least new Who, are the ones that treat traveling with the Doctor as a kind of addiction; you have to feel the intoxication of it in order for the pain to hit.

on that note, I don’t get the suggestion that Donna could have given up her metacrisis energy this whole time and that Tennant’s Doctor just doesn’t understand that because he’s male presenting. Donna is the one who didn’t give it up 15 years ago. if she always could have given up that power, then the only explanation for why she didn’t is that she couldn’t bear to go back to being “ordinary,” and of course the Tenth Doctor, who can't let anything go (“I don’t want to go”), would never think to let it go either. it’s about personality. the idea that it all comes down to the Doctor’s current gender presentation is a bleak vision of regeneration, where everything one regeneration experiences, in terms of how their body affects their privilege, is immediately forgotten once they change. Fourteen isn’t exactly Ten, but bringing back Tennant as the Doctor and treating him like Ten (who moved through the world with the privilege of a white man) meant that the show didn’t really get to explore the aftermath of the Doctor presenting as a woman. am I meant to believe that their experience taught them nothing? rude to Jodie! and does that imply that everything Ncuti’s Doctor is about to experience isn’t going to affect how future Doctors understand race at all? isn’t that sad?

all this in an episode that doesn’t even mention Martha! the show’s first Black companion is now the only Tenth Doctor companion who doesn’t get her own personal Doctor, and they can’t even say her name. it’s been said on here before, but this isn’t about whether Martha would “want” her own Doctor (he’s her friend! I think she’d want to see him, although as this post puts it, she’d “rehome him within a week”). she’s a fictional character. it’s worth asking why Martha Jones was written in such a way that when she gets ignored, people will rise up to defend it as a sign of her independence. 

and it's unfair that Ncuti didn't get the normal regeneration sequence. even his TARDIS is a duplicate. the bi-generation feels like it leaves the door open for people to treat Ncuti’s Doctor as less legitimate. granted, those people would probably take any excuse, so you can't write for them. but as fun as it was to see the two Doctors team up (they should kiss), and as much as Ncuti is serving already, he shouldn't have had to share the spotlight. at minimum the bi-generation should have resolved by the end of the episode. now David Tennant is just looming out there until who knows when. also, the thing about sending Fourteen off to “deal with his trauma” is that it implies that Fifteen already did that, and I don't want that. the Doctor has to be haunted. what is Doctor Who about if not running from your past at warp speed? yeah, Ncuti’s Doctor should be at the club, but regeneration always gives the Doctor enough of a fresh start to have fun for a few episodes before the horrors hit; I don’t think he needed to be fully healed before hitting the club. 

when Jodie’s era kicked off we spent every week waiting for her to snap. full disclosure, I haven’t seen the Flux season, which apparently put her through it, but I don’t think her Doctor was ever allowed access to the full range of personality flaws that other Doctors have, which was unfair to her and also less fun to watch. I don’t want to see that happen to Ncuti’s Doctor; he deserves to be burdened, prideful, angry, rude, whatever. we can’t let the Doctor fall victim to the therapy-speak epidemic on television. he should get to be alien, and I want to see him snap.

[sunset100]

TRAINING CAMP

part 1

Waking up in a dormitory full of strangers with no memory of how I got here was enough to demoralize a man, even a retired hardcase like myself.

            “I don’t worry about those sorts of things anymore,” Is what I told the young killer, so he’d leave me alone. He’d been trying out petty insults and dominance games on me for a while now. His idea of friendly banter. Baker was his last name. His first name might have been John. When he wasn’t insulting me, he was bugging me about killing all the young kids in the room. Beating them up, sometimes. Raping the pretty girls. I classified him as trouble, and kept an eye on him, but I doubted whether he had ever killed anyone.

            But you never know. Especially about weirdoes like him who enjoyed thinking about killing people. I’ve killed people in war, but I never enjoyed it. I did enjoy being the one who lived, but that was about it.

            I saw him as half a lunatic. Jumpy and twitchy, but a hard and cruel gleam in his eyes that said, if it came to it, he would go for me.

            “You say that ‘cause you’re old , eh? Can’t get it up anymore, okay old man?” He said this in a loud voice. Wanted everyone to hear him belittle the old man. Was a time when I’d have killed an Ordinary like him. Being so old, I’d grown cold and uncaring about such stuff. I ignored him. I looked around the room. Scared and confused faces on the people who’d awakened and sat up on their bunks. Way too many children and teens. A few young adults. Mostly female. A giant male stood out amongst them all. He was up and pacing about the huge room. The giant’s intense blue eyes met mine for a second and I felt his hard anger and determination. I looked away first as I didn’t want to challenge him. A dangerous man.

            The woman with the two red upside-down triangles tattooed underneath her eyes, one on the left, one on the right, was looking at me. My upside-down blue tattoos on my face were what had caught her attention, I guessed. Her eyes were as hard and deep as any I’d known. Maybe like mine back when I was her age. She was younger than I. Raised both my hands and used the sign language common between our two unreconciled peoples. No intention to harm was my message. Her kind and mine had been at peace for nearly a generation and I wasn’t about to break it. Especially with her. She smiled signed like wise. She kept looking at me, but not so harshly as before. Well. I’d have to talk with her and soon.

            Johnny had, in meantime, stopped going on about my manhood. Must’ve noticed that nobody was paying him any mind. More and more people were coming ‘round. Waking up. Realized they weren’t where they’d gone to sleep in. Like me, only they got scared and upset and demoralized right quick and showed it. Been through too many battles involving sorcery not to recognize it when I see it. And I’d been lucky to reach the age I had, what with all the wars I’d fought in. Maybe this was when my luck ran out. Like anybody, the thought of death scared me, but I’d long practice in putting that fear aside and focusing on the trouble right in front of me.

            “Yeah, all that. Been trying to suss out how I got here. How we all got here.” Hoped that talking to Johnny in a serious way, including him in my suspicions would calm him down.

            “You fucked over about this shit we’re in, old man? Hey, let me tell you, End Times. Demons and Gods and monster are all walking world, you get me, eh?” He laughed and then went on: “Hey man, maybe we’re dead. For real or real soon.”

            “Could I be dreaming?” I asked Johnny.

            “You? Fuck that, man. What if I’m dreaming?”

            Johnny’s point gave me pause.

            “Maybe I am just a figment of your imagination.”

            “Fuck off, old man.” Johnny said with a steely edge of finality. Well, I didn’t really feel like fighting him. I shut up and thought about what to do about the woman who could kill me, if she so chose. The true horror of being old started to sink in to me at that moment. Not to mention being kidnapped and if not helpless, then damned near it.

[nightguide]

9 WAY THEORY BIAS: BOWIE'S RELATIVITY (SOUND + LANGUAGE) BUENA VISTA DUBAI INTERNATIONAL

(I GIVE NAMES OUT FOR ANYTHING THAT SOUNDS LIKE 'THE END' JUST BARE YOUR MIND ABOUT THAT)

THERE IS NO ANYTHING WITH THE WORLD'S WORST COMING ON THE WAY YOU'RE MADE OF PEACE TO LIVE BUT YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO FEEL LIKE AT YOUR PRIME OF YOUR CHILDHOOD WITHOUT AN EXCEPTION

ACTORS HELL: OBLIVION (DAWN OF THE DEAD)

actor's hell: your reason is in touch with the inspiration of that certain chord that made you believe

you'll never notice why but just is (middle finger to textile students across the UK for dumb expectations of a garment that will never work out to mental symphony (feeling over mind is how you knew why but the latter is working under somebody else's way of believing is how you'll never reach the grading criteria)

harbinger's: why is that relevant to you by imitation is how you'll believe in stronger theories of you being that reason to live than being lived under a 'cocky expectation' elsewhere (your wonder)

maestro become: tell your story, even if it's not even relevant that you'll make it because Hollywood of anywhere believes in you til intuition becomes a lonely company and you made it

dante's paradox: shut the fuck up and live it (your eyes tell reality by the ordinary, it's okay to lose)

judgement day: now, you don't think there is a two-way system in doing than you making it 'out there', like c,mon. the first ever Doctor is a desi woman with a boundary against the patriarchy is how you'll never know what you'll live for except you made it that far to believe in your own world working for you than against you (you seen your mom on TV and 'called that' quits and walked away from your world like you knew PTS- and that's why i'm here ; )

gaiman's hell: your hands don't work you, but you do (who are you and why) there are no excuses but love, no denial except hope, no dreams except being, you're better than anywhere but the latter is in the obvious reason you were never made to be a medical student believing you 'owned' everything (and guess your enemies now your white friends (now desi) tells you they'll straight away beat up the reason for you to succeed cuz it sucks to be you (you know you made it when there is a cross-realisation between cultural defects is how 'that one culture' who never stands up (food mecca) actually does and Keanu Reeves gives up his role 'as the greatest man alive' falls upon you (you KR now) and they stand up with you like he on a repeat (the mantle of KR) and wonder how lazy he is and exactly think why he is not made to be 'the reason of your resilience' is because you share the same hatred of a Loviatar

babylon unbroken: epic themes dont have anything in common with you, you're made to

NOW WHAT DOES THAT REMIND YOU OF

kingdom come: STAND UP TO THAT ONE MANGINA YOU HAVE IN THAT GROUP CHAT DISCORD EFFECTIVE IMMEDIA- (as the 11th doctor), you know.... i have some interpretations about a society i have to leave for (kisses his wife on screen), there is no diorama

yes.

i am

(moans) i lied

and now..... the tenacity within the world of what you knew is there, no such reason to belong or die is how you intuitively knew an end to intuition to an image prevailed by hope that that distinction is not even there for you but the beginning is how you knew me

where was i.... (laughs), where were you *glances up at light like a starstone* and fortuna hits the glade... i wander

some sexuality you have that's yet to go is not for me but towards yourself, i have no bones inside my soul but made, then WHERE WERE YOU, PRISONERS I SOUGHT OUT FOR YOUR DEVICES MADE ME WHOLE BUT UNCOMMON, EYES. THAT SEARCHES THE DEEP BEYOND THAT MADE ME IN ANGUISH (kisses 11 too hard to remember), i have no light except he... do you... remember?

so the suns lay down on the foreigner stadium tonight at red one and i cannot tell my dreams more (thanilovedgettingyourcockoutsideinbutyoutellmemore*winks at 11*thisismyworldnow, ha!. ibetyou to it *followed by 11 reverbed breath underneath scar and soul to emit no glance but a thought) that's what you wanted? aren't you the man.... i breakmy.... fast

Linna XIX, *stops to assure a smile not even a host can see*

pythagorean theorem: take it back... sexually, just don't go... there. make no demands but please, expect an audience, but dry out your last consolation over a new eden (i ended him desperately to take it all back for one man to light up an empire, soul for seoul. no man lives alive to see you crying the next day)

HARBINGER'S: MAKE AN IMPACT OF YOUR WORLD (LIFE FOR LIFE IS AN ORIGIN BETWEEN YOU AND YOURSELF IN A CHILDHOOD THAT CAME BACK TO YOU BUT YOU NEVER WERE)

actor's hell: whatever you did, you died for it

harbinger's: who are... they to you, you're lucky i debuted it to you (actually the first ever appearance of the 88th doctor) salaam wa alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatahu! nice to see you believing in an old school method of the word 'alien', now i don't forgive you (common hero: why?) don't teach me but leave me wondering (your biggest enemy is you) i dont care, but you love me anyway (someone calls me Madonna and i am made about her for her is her but nonetheless, she lived long enough to see me grow): not even my teacher but made the world for her that i never seem to come to man but me (not even my story but her fanfiction) honour that (i never wrote any but lived it)

maestro become: stop acting like you're dying and do it straight away (some military side of you is there, get your ass back to work)

dante's paradox: you're gonna lose your passion life for this to make you (every hero's best case scenario is coming back to your world like that: god level: university unbroken (you wanted to be the greats there but it never worked out so you have a 'bitch' in mind to settle that score cuz your patience has blown a fuse into believing (like your world burned and ended there when nazar hits you like a lego to your foot but you knew exactly that time and space ripped itself apart when a part of your toes have a core memory that you felt ultimately badass in getting a bruise for your stubbed toe... like that is how a specific moment in time and space you remember watching a tv/movie show that felt your agony rip itself apart like you enjoy their shit more than everything in the world combined (to me.. i believe it was shaun of the dead that made Frost and Pegg undeniably go after the same cause for cautionary tale that got now, Bill Nighy convinced that he's the one who screwed up all time and space for one stubbed bruised pinky (legendary reason to make 'more' for the cause of it 'since the hero element' comes back from the dead right there, you're british arent ya.? yeah. well. we don't like being told what to do (and you knew who fucked up from there cuz that's how i got here telling you what) not even your day, Nighy (jokes, seriously that or make another fairytale retelling of the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy making 43 now the fucking light and love of the world)

judgement day: *live action and you look like dis*

gaiman's hell: .... your YAOI, AO3, fluff, like the list goes on (and i know you wrote it), now which ones... no... you made it.... you live it

have you been inspired by a feeble lesson from the amazing world of gumball, lately?

rusteze

surely i do

okay, now i know a group that got the hit (actual personality)

miley cyrus fans: *hates everybody but themselves for a cause (actually the ones who got famous from years 2017 - 2024*

selenators: *the ones in witchcraft but also the one's who are too heartbroken to cause their fanfiction to be based on glee (tv show) instead, later now than never *knows the oncoming of the 'dajjal' is pure but give her a.... and she's dead* their fanfic are lost (hence why i damned her on the blog)*

lovatics: fan fic gods. (caused the crack on 11's timeline maturely (fanatics purely like TWD is based about her fandom causing Andrew Lincoln to find his partner the entire time like groundhog d-day)

that's the disney trinity (should have never been formed in the first place by intuitive oblivion)

you were not distracted but led by music notion (one of those 3 will make or break you)

i was a Lovatic once upon a time

now who were you and why did their story kill you on purpose?

babylon unbroken: who did it to you (now get up) (your theme starts with passion agony to be but you knew the answer in the end coming from a... 'X') now find that reason to win harder but be okay with losing what's nothing left to give

kingdom come: faith is stronger than the will to be (do what's necessary to hate for no reason (your energy is you)

pythagorean theorem: *find that* and you knew. don't find that if that means your intellectual gameplay is stolen mercy to your... exactly how you died

MAESTRO BECOME: WHY YOU LOVE IS WHY YOU DIED (it happened), NOW WHAT IS MERCY TO YOU AND TELL US MORE (SPEEDS OF A..) ENDING

actor's hell:

this is your love for god not knowing you (how you were deep overall is there) you knew how (i'm Lancelot's ascendant of Guiniverean Britain now)

harbinger's: sleep with the dream (your second chord from the bridge alienates spontaneity of that world you knew you lost (whatever Gallifrey is to you is that you're on it, it was never called 'Earth') so... no blood. you're not from here (and you know your ghost)

maestro become: why did you lose?

dante's paradox: TELL ME WHY (you're a villain there) make nothing happen (let it stay that way: me to Stardust is how i let people die for that reason to be (married to Tristan in real life)

judgement day: why did Neil Gaiman hand you that thought (perception broken is him being inspired by you: Bowie's revelation)

gaiman's hell: damned. lost hero

babylon unbroken: why did you ask me for help? you knew i killed (i accept as fini mortem, now why did you damn me out of oblivion (which is why you're in hell and i'm awesome)

kingdom come: i hate time (make that up)

pythagorean theorem: you discovered and you have an immortal enemy (mario bro's logic is you now)

DANTE'S PARADOX: *ON TIME IS YOU HEARING ME RIGHT NOW WITH THE FEELING OF... AND GET THE FUCK OFF MY PLANET*

actor's hell: what i love about the f major ambient pad revelation on Madagascar, it's not just the world i felt like i'm at peace with (to hell with being a neuro-divergent particular) i have no sense with wonder if i knew the ending like i am a neuro-typical than me saying 'i am Allah' which is how i was convinced in a therapeutic dispute much later in life to feel my veins screaming 'more' when having sex (which you only have eyes for) which is how i knew how i know my enemies, but i know now that i am not going to die for 'insert here the much lesser version of death be told is that to you like you never were (you met somebody who existed in that same fandom you were purely out of control for: you're love and she's hate but you have a forlorn history that is never there but she collected your eternity to lose a friend (burn that thing now)' and that's where their death is your success, not like the touch tones i have with colour is why she joined a shitty animal course to 'make you' than having sex to her is watching multiple crime shows and one zombie confession is her making you a zombie on TWD to her being so out-of-apparent to you being on Madagascar for free (her porno refuge) is seeking Ben Stiller for help (and it got cringe for her right here) and there is element to colour (obsession gone rogue) which is how i found my passion within the arts i once were for fashion (my eternal refuge of sacred virginity), like no such girly repertoire for me i find too hard to get when i knew i loved it (than the latter), so i knew mercy died within my bedroom but no wonders is that i'd find you looking at me (and how i say 'nothing is last' and tell me more is how i find my one last man chancing the same introduction to a hynotist reality) and you knew i did it all for love (and i degraded it) and made no wonder for being alive and i saved it (you heard his theme), he talks about a night and reason (why you're hearing my theme) and relativity to it is that my fanfictions was not even there or written for me when i was made that i wanted to believe in a concept design of that i am (i accept all notions of creativity that is which is why i chose to 'be with him' though my eyes may not) and i choose to wander, there is no relevance to him that he is an enigmatic science teacher (who i became) that i loved how he spoke to me by aesthetic mysteria (him to me personally why i loved the default upcoming of him that i dreamed he is)

and mis-endowed

well.... i have a type

not personally (blushes), so that i may hide... or that i seek fiction (no such thing as crushes) but i seek the wander than the odds that i may meet the median by him believing in stronger intuits to fight real time glory (everybody's pleasure) than saying the worst case scenario is him back at me but he will never end (why he was there)

so i had fanfiction but i said no (gen-z craves that shit to deluxe that even gen-x's love to read that shit elsewhere since they made those sub-divisions to alter ego hypnotise the world by purity (your erotic truth is there but you'll never do but glorify) hence why the wonder is lost with all my body parts in the tune from Madagascar that had even Smith himself feel like there is a resonant glory in being an actor that a true time designer went into his aesthetic made for me (my Song relativity is his Rogue modernity)

and lest you keep up with the stars that even decades that role model influences that chased the same values as history as you being there in real life and you were once thinking of world wars happening and sold for souls that even the.... bias of time against a....

jews?

are they evil?

everybody likes a good guy...

but

nobody likes you

are you.. a jew?

wait.. no.

okay, the chase is in the arts (Smith's passion and death for a_

Wintour intuitive bias

that's my stronghold, heck i even call her grandma (my mommy's side granny is like sugar)

i love her way too much that i never see her except seeing her was her loving me right back

and that's why i get my heart from, she is alive with the sound of why Vogue went everywhere (fashion gone immortal is you) and why i got to be my relevant psyche in space that i am so good at what i do that i got her world for free (Spice Girls also knew the time of the doctor is well into the world of my own home (my own Wintour)

and that's why i love you

harbingers: set them all up for success: you sucked at

a. breathing

b. believing

c. forgetting

now pick your music video vibe genre of ingenuity

so mine is, 'men who vibe at dying at the same time as living but gets to walk on buildings for fun like they got nothing left to tell you that they knew a ___ gomez adams malfunction leading to the death of rare beauty cosmetic prescription ideal to face Keanu Reeves dying at all times and it was there which is why they had little but to no less fame of his level of being a god he thinks he is (mf owns 9gag level of success)'

and they got a petty genre of their own doings which is why

a. they knew a selena but hated her for that so you compensated it by working to devil level hard mode spiderman level of consciousness by sleeping with her and making it all up for the vibe metronome (as seen on that one interview you blew your shit to cuz u knew that level of metalhead physics any God would do that Keanu can't *show him up*)

[anjumbai]

Fyodor Dostoevsky: Short Stories

White Nights

"Do you realize how you have reconciled me to myself? Do you realize I will no longer think so badly of myself as I have done at times? Do you realize that I will perhaps no longer agonize over having sinned and committed crimes during my life, because that sort of life is a sin and a crime in itself!"

A story of a lonely man confining to himself, finding solace and experiencing human compassion from a girl leading to an eventual heartbreak. The story starts with our lonely man seeing a girl cry on the streets, not sure whether to ask her what's wrong. Eventually, they talk and the girl makes him from promise not to fall in love with her. And he agrees. And the two go on multiple nights talking alone in the cold Petersburgh streets. The man opens up, maybe for the first time. The girl too shares her heartbreaks and love affairs, how a man who promised to marry her has yet not approached her and it's breaking her up inside. Sadly, our protagonist, the man breaks his promise and it leads to an eventual heartbreak for one side. Someone gets invited to a wedding too.

I love Dostoevsky due to how amazingly he portrays ordinary stories. A story like this is not uncommon in modern day, yet his dialogue just fleshes out this seemingly ordinary story to the next level. Dostoevsky appears as such a cold, nihilistic fellow that I couldn't really imagine him writing such beautiful stories filled with human emotion. Crime and Punishment was a proper introduction to his writing style but not to the man himself. A compassionate, loving human being who enjoys beauty.

Overall, a fun story to read. I started it in Sylhet months ago and finally finished it on a metro ride some weeks ago. The dialogue is beautiful and I guess it's something you can never take away from a Dostoevsky book.

"I do not blame you for the fact that I am powerless to guide your heart; such is my fate!" - what a line.

A Gentle Creature

"But my soul was in grim despair at that time: I was about to be annihilated myself, so how on earth could I have saved anyone else? And how do you know I wanted to save anyone at the time? Who knows what I might have been feeling?"

Credits to the artist. I didn't like the official cover so I went with a beautiful artwork perfectly capturing the story. The revolver, the window - all's there. It's another story of a man and a girl. An ex-military pawnbroker marries this girl, seemingly out of pity and hoping that she'll love him in his terms. She does love him, and he replies in silence. Abusing her not physically but psychologically, as if suffering will make her love him in a way he wants. "A higher kind of happiness" or something.

The story has essentially no dialogue. None. These are the thoughts of the person left behind through the suicide of another. The man explains us in vain why she must have killed herself, why she decided to fling herself out the balcony. He takes us through a trip through his thoughts and you can just tell this is one of the unreliable narrators. Just like "Notes from Underground", the narrator is a vile human being who never came to terms with his guilt. He deemed himself unworthy of the love of his wife and decided to torture her emotionally as if to prepare her to actually love him. He never opens up, never concedes his emotions and speaks in a matter of fact tone that she will never understand. What can't a woman's love heal unless you are denying to even receive it.

It turns out that the man did drive her to suicide. He is in shock, he is in denial and he tries to explain us, his humble listeners why it was her fault. Psychologically, it's one of the best short stories I've ever read. I enjoyed this thoroughly and I was eager to understand what would happen next. 9/10, one of my favorite short stories to this date.

The Dream of a Ridiculous Man

"That in my hatred towards the people of our earth there was always an element of anguish: why could I not hate them without loving them? Why couldn't I deny them forgiveness, why was there this anguish in my love: why couldn't I love them without hating them?

A man, moments before picking up the revolver and shooting himself, falls asleep and goes on some kind of fever dream that only the highest form of cocaine can supply and he turns into a better man. I guess. I don't know how else to explain it.

The narrator hates everyone and everybody and he is ready to shoot himself soon. But he dreams. Dream of a different earth where humans lived without hate, lying, corruption, power. He looks at them at awe. He was bewildered at how compassionate they were. "Ah no, these people never tried to get me to understand them, they loved me without that, but I also knew that they would never comprehend me..." how could people who didn't understand one another show so much love and appreciation for one another? It hit him. That was simply the human condition. Sadly, our ridiculous man corrupts them. He teaches them lying just out of joke and then it starts- jealousy, corruption, cruelty, shame. "When they became wicket, they started talking of brotherhood and humane values and grasped these concepts. When they took up criminality, they invented justice and enacted whole codes of law to preserve it, while for the maintenance of the codes they set up the guillotine."

I don't know what to make of this story. Maybe love humans and have hope? "Because I have seen the truth, I've seen it and know that people can be beautiful and happy, without losing their ability to live on earth. I won't accept, and refuse to believe that evil is the normal condition of men."

Dude doesn't kill himself and starts preaching about the fundamental condition of man. Honest, loving and compassionate. The end.

[carnalapples]

7 snippets, 7 mutuals

thank you @rowanisawriter for the tag!! i'll tag @theluckywizard and anyone else who wants to share :) lots of dialogue this time around lol:

bodyguard au (cullen/f!trevelyan)

“You’re jealous,” she laughs again, because she’s feeling this insane urge to wind him up. Like maybe it’ll lead to something. Around them, a dozen Cullens purse their lips in disapproval. “They don’t know what you can really do,” he murmurs. “And does that frighten you?” He blinks, something heavy swirling in his eyes and in the air between them. When it becomes obvious he won’t say anything, the dozen versions of her stride away from the dozen versions of him.  “We have an early morning, Enchanter,” he calls out behind her. She wonders what he’s trying to remind himself of with that.

2. a heart that laughter has made sweet (cullen/f!trevelyan)

It’s strange to see Cullen out of uniform. He wears light traveling armor, his wife similarly clad. It’s strange to see Cullen at all, really. He had not realized it had been that long.  “You just missed Hawke,” he says. “Oh,” Cullen replies after a moment, slightly breathless. Rylen snorts at his visible relief. He nods at the woman next to him, offering a little salute.  “Hello,” she says. She exhales and raises a hand to her brow. In a moment, Cullen moves to take the coat from her shoulders. Again, he notes with a hint of amusement, he had not realized it had been that long. 

3. cut down at the garden's gate (hawke/sebastian)

“I wish I could have known you then,” There’s a sharp edge to it, a dangerous current.  “It couldn’t have gone anywhere good. You’re better off knowing me now." “And you would have taken a bride.” She shifts the topic so suddenly, Hawke. True to her skills on the battlefield, her words aim to disorient and to dazzle.  “I am a younger son. It would not have mattered who I took to wed, as long as they were of standing.” And the truth is, he could never have had someone like Hawke, never would have deserved them.  “I don’t know much about being noble,” she says, slightly more subdued.  “You are noble in the truest sense of the word.” And he leaves before he can act on anything he thought he left behind. 

4. ordinary world (miranda & shepard, background shenko)

That’s not exactly accurate.  She’s never stopped thinking of Kaidan, or of her crew. He hovers at the edges of her mind like a ghost. Like a specter, true to his name. But it’s the first time she lets herself dream beyond the snatches that kept her alive through the rubble, through all of the surgeries. The first rational thought: what would he think? Ashley should have lived. She immediately feels guilty for the thought. That Ashley should have lived instead of strong, sweet Kaidan, whom she’s killed a hundred times in her mind. Vaporized by a reaper beam slicing through the Normandy, skull crushed in the impact of a crash landing, shredded by the claws of a husk. She’s almost jealous. If there’s one thing she can’t seem to do right, it’s die.

5. negative space (pacific rim, mako/raleigh, i really want to finish this soon!)

It was the abruptness of it, really. The violence of his mind ripped from hers, an indescribable sense of loss. Like losing half of herself. No—the truth of it, as the doctor insists. She had been more than herself, and she suddenly had to return to normalcy. To singularity. To loneliness. She was shaking on that raft, shaking Raleigh, trying to work her way back into his mind, and past the relief of him opening his eyes, all that was left was bitter disappointment.

6. dead winter in the forgotten land (i call this my amell/alistair messy divorce fic)

The paper is the softest thing she’s felt in years. She wants to cry a little when she touches it, unused to comfort. The Inquisitor writes hesitantly, like perhaps she is awed. It makes Amell a little prideful and a little endeared towards her. She means to let it be, but there is something about this letter: how the envelope is covered in dirt from all corners of Thedas while the paper is untouched by any hands but the Inquisitor’s, how the handwriting slants to the right like any good Circle mage’s does, how the ink pools at the end of every stroke like the words were thought over and over. She begins to write back. I wish to see my king again, she writes, the truest thing on the page.

7. long distance (jab tak hai jaan, akira/samar)

He says he loves his country, but that’s not really why he’s here, taking apart bombs in the dead of night while their fingers go numb. The other day it was snowing, and something detonated, and he couldn’t tell between the insulation fluff and the flakes pouring down, and he was sliced through with something sharp, the sensation of having erred grievously.  There’s a woman in London who loves him. Why the hell is he here? He ignores it. He tries his best to ignore it. He goes home, and his boss calls. More people are enlisting. He’s had an impact, and it begins to eat at him. It has been eating at him. He was supposed to be a singer. He was supposed to be too soft for this life. “You would be a horrible soldier,” he says to Akira on the phone the next morning. “When have I ever wanted that?” There’s a rustling that feels like it’s inside him. She must be adjusting her coat. That bright one with the fur. “You don’t listen. You’re very reckless. And your decision-making—“ “I didn’t ask for that, either,” she snaps, and the muffled rush that undercuts her words of traffic makes him frown. “Be careful,” he can’t help but say. A pause—and then she scoffs, but there’s a softness to it, something he would like to think of as fond.

[commiepinkofag]

How the anti-gender movement is bringing us closer to authoritarianism

Judith Butler / March 16, 2024

In the United States, gender has been considered a relatively ordinary term. We are asked to check a box on a form, and most of us do so without giving it too much thought. But some of us don’t like checking the box and think there should be either many more boxes or perhaps none at all. The myriad, continuing debates about gender show that no one approach to defining or understanding it reigns. It’s no longer a mundane box to be checked on official forms.

The anti-gender ideology movement, however, treats the range of sometimes conflicting ideas about gender as a monolith, frightening in its power and reach.

The fear of “gender” allows existing powers — states, churches, political movements — to frighten people to come back into their ranks, to accept censorship and to externalize their fear and hatred onto vulnerable communities. Those powers not only appeal to existing fears that many working people have about the future of their work or the sanctity of their family life but also incite those fears, insisting, as it were, that people conveniently identify gender as the true cause of their feelings of anxiety and trepidation about the world.

The project of restoring the world to a phantasmatic time before gender promises a return to a patriarchal dream order that only a strong state can restore. The shoring up of state powers, including the courts, implicates the anti-gender movement in a broader authoritarian, even fascist project. We see the rolling back of progressive legislation and the targeting of sexual and gender minorities as dangers to society, as exemplifying the most destructive force in the world, in order to strip them of their fundamental rights, protections and freedoms.

Consider the allegation that “gender” — whatever it is — puts children at risk through programs such as reading books with queer characters cast as examples of indoctrination or seduction. The fear of children being harmed, the fear that the family, or one’s own family, will be destroyed, that “man” will be dismantled, including the men and man that some of us are, that a new totalitarianism is descending upon us, are all fears that are felt quite deeply by those who have committed themselves to the eradication of “gender” — the word, the concept, the academic field and the various social movements it has come to signify.

The resulting authoritarian restrictions on freedom abound, whether through establishing LGBTQ+-free zones in Poland or strangling progressive educational curricula in Florida that address gender freedom and sexuality in sex education. But no matter how intently authoritarian forces attempt to restrict freedoms, the fact that the categories of women and men shift historically and contextually is undeniable. New gender formations are part of history and reality. Gender is, in reality, minimally the rubric under which we consider changes in the way that men, women and other such categories have been understood.

As an educator, I am inclined to say to these people, “Let’s read some key texts in gender studies together and see what gender does and does not mean and whether the caricature holds up.” Reading is a precondition of democratic life, keeping debate and disagreement grounded and productive.

Sadly, such a strategy rarely works.

A woman in Switzerland once came up to me after a talk I gave and said, “I pray for you.” I asked why. She explained that the Scripture says that God created man and woman and that I, through my books, had denied the Scripture. She added that male and female are natural and that nature was God’s creation. I pointed out that nature admits of complexity and that the Bible itself is open to some differing interpretations, and she scoffed. I then asked if she had read my work, and she replied, “No! I would never read such a book!” I realized that reading a book on gender would be, for her, trafficking with the devil. Her view resonates with the demand to take books on gender out of the classroom and the fear that those who read such books are contaminated by them or subject to an ideological inculcation, even though those who seek to restrict these books have typically never read them.

To refuse gender is, sadly, to refuse to encounter the complexity that one finds in contemporary life across the world. The anti-gender movement opposes thought itself as a danger to society — fertile soil for the horrid collaboration of fascist passions with authoritarian regimes.

We need to take a stand against the anti-gender movement in the name of breathing and living free from the fear of violence.

Transnational coalitions should gather and mobilize everyone the anti-gender ideology movement has targeted. The internecine fights within the field must become dynamic and productive conversations and confrontations, however difficult, within an expansive movement dedicated to equality and justice. Coalitions are never easy, but where conflicts cannot be resolved, movements can still move ahead together with an eye focused on the common sources of oppression.

Whether or not people are assigned a gender at birth or assume one in time, they can really love being the gender that they are and reject any effort to disturb that pleasure. They seek to strut and celebrate, express themselves and communicate the reality of who they are. No one should take away that joy, as long as those people do not insist that their joy is the only possible one. Importantly, however, many endure suffering, ambivalence and disorientation within existing categories, especially the one to which they were assigned at birth. They can be genderqueer or trans, or something else, and they are seeking to live life as the body that makes sense to them and lets life be livable, if not joyous. Whatever else gender means, it surely names for some a felt sense of the body, in its surfaces and depths, a lived sense of being a body in the world in this way.

As much as someone might want to clutch a single idea of what it is to be a woman or a man, the historical reality defeats that project and makes matters worse by insisting on genders that have all along exceeded the binary alternatives. How we live that complexity, and how we let others live, thus becomes of paramount importance.

There is still much to be understood about gender as a structural problem in society, as an identity, as a field of study, as an enigmatic and highly invested term that circulates in ways that inspire some and terrify others. We have to keep thinking about what we mean by it and what others mean when they find themselves up in arms about the term.

Judith Butler is a professor of comparative literature at UC Berkeley. This essay was adapted from their forthcoming book “Who’s Afraid of Gender?”

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

From here on out, just assume a running content warning for ableism and racism/eugenics. I will flag anything new or out of the ordinary, but this is a book about ableism and eugenics, so those threads pop up everywhere.

Okay, we're back at it. We pick back up with chapter 8, when Eric and Kilmeny have their arranged meeting. Kilmeny is still being described as a child every other sentence. This is a thing LMM does when she wants to convey ~innocence~. Cecilia Gay (you know, a 26-year-old woman who'd had a child) was also constantly described as childlike and innocent. It grates on my more modern sensibilities, but it does feel more like literary shorthand than like LMM literally saying Kilmeny is a kid.

We waste no time re-establishing Eric as a jerk. "Somehow Eric did not like her references to Neil. The idea of that handsome, low-born boy seeing Kilmeny every day..." Neil, of course, has committed the dastardly crime of having the Wrong Parents. Eric can't just be jealous of Neil because he has a crush on Kilmeny and so is jealous of every single man who sees her (already an unpleasant character trait), Eric has to be superior and condescending about how Neil is the Wrong kind of people to breathe Kilmeny's air. 

Anyway, so Kilmeny is magic:

"What divine music she lured out of the old violin—merry and sad, gay and sorrowful by turns, music such as the stars of morning might have made singing together, music that the fairies might have danced to in their revels among the green hills or on yellow sands, music that might have mourned over the grave of a dead hope. Then she drifted into a still sweeter strain. As he listened to it he realized that the whole soul and nature of the girl were revealing themselves to him through her music���the beauty and purity of her thoughts, her childhood dreams and her maiden reveries. There was no thought of concealment about her; she could not help the revelation she was unconscious of making."

Kilmeny is entirely self-taught -- she said previously that Neil taught her how to hold a bow but everything else she figured out on her own. Given that the violin is one of her primary methods of communication, it does make sense that she would have figured out how to convey meaning through the music. It's less logical that Eric, who doesn't know her, would immediately pick up on the nuances of that communication instead of having to get to know her better, but it's a romance novel so fine. Whatever. Eric and Kilmeny have a spiritual magical connection and understand each other instinctively.

We learn that Kilmeny can laugh aloud, even if she can't speak. Eric asks about it, and she says that she can only make sounds when she's not thinking about it. When she is caught up in the moment she can laugh or make noises of fear or surprise, but if she tries to make sounds on purpose she can't. She also says this: " I asked mother once and she told me it was a judgment on her for a great sin she had committed."

Kilmeny doesn't notice that Eric only sees her as an extension of himself because all her life she has only ever been seen as an extension of her mother. She has been punished for Margaret's sin. (And, by the by, why is it Margaret who is being punished when it's Ronald who lied to her? Kilmeny said last chapter that on her deathbed Margaret regretted never forgiving Ronald or believing him when he said he didn't know his first wife was alive. Is that her sin?

Ew. I just realized. Margaret's sin is pride and her punishment for that sin is having born a disabled child. I hate it.)

Eric does have a good moment when he asks Kilmeny's permission to ask her about her muteness. As ever, Eric is poisoned by the fact that we can see his thoughts.

" Do not look so sorry, my friend. I am very happy and I do not mind so very much not being able to speak—only sometimes when I have so many thoughts and it seems so slow to write them out, some of them get away from me."

Kilmeny has the most healthy attitude on her disability we have seen thus far: it isn't hurting her, it is sometimes kind of annoying, but mostly she just lives her life. It's other people who make a big deal about it.

So Eric wishes that his friend, who conveniently is a nationally renowned throat specialist, could examine Kilmeny. On the one hand, sure. On the other, I wish he could take her at her word that she doesn't particularly mind and leave it alone. He's not doing it because he thinks it will make her happy, he's doing it because he thinks she is defective.

Ew.

(Also, as a sidenote, it's been a minute since we heard anything about Eric's students. The man is definitely not cut out to be a teacher, is all I'll say.)

[animatorweirdo]

To never find love

You dream again of the incident that happened in the past and then meet someone unpleasant. Maglor contemplates his feelings for you after confronting Camilla.

Warnings: angst, crying, injuries, talk about love, a head injury, awkward social encounters, insulting, Saeros is not a fun elf, and Maglor talking with Camilla.

Chapter 15

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

The snow fell slowly from the sky, each flake descending as if time itself had slowed down, creating an illusion of levitation. The overcast grey clouds blanketed the surroundings, casting a dark and dull atmosphere. Winter was approaching, a season that held no positive connotations, and now, another tragedy was added to the list of reasons why you despised it so much.

Despite being covered in bandages, your wounds still ached, likely the lingering effects of the silver. The physical pain, though present, paled in comparison to the emotional torment within your heart and soul.

You sat motionless on the porch steps, observing each snowflake as it gently landed, only to melt upon contact with the ground. The thin blanket wrapped around your body offered little protection against the biting cold, while your mind wrestled with a chaotic mix of thoughts and memories from recent events.

Approaching from behind, Camilla's grandmother placed a cup of hot tea in front of you. Grasping the warm mug, you looked up to meet her gaze. "Stay warm, dear, so you don't catch a cold," she advised, settling into the nearby rocking chair.

You stayed silent, sipping the herbal tea mixed with some medicine. A momentary silence fell between you and the elderly woman, who leisurely smoked her pipe.

Her sharp gaze focused on you, and you, in turn, stared into nothingness, battling to contain the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes.

She lets out a calm sigh, releasing smoke from her mouth. "Do not blame yourself for what happened. It was unexpected to all of us," she broke the silence. 

You looked at her, trying to control the urge to cry and failing profusely. "But... I didn't even do anything. I didn't do anything bad. Why would he out of all people?" you questioned between your sobs. She hummed. 

"That is the curse of all deemed unhuman," she answered as you continued to cry quietly. She allowed you to sob peacefully. 

"That boy was weak-minded," she stated. 

"It was so easy for him to push away all you had together and believe all the evil said about you without even thinking to seek the truth himself. That is why people like him are so easy to manipulate," she explained. "Which is also why communing with ordinary people is so dangerous, especially with those ignorant of the world around them," she added. 

"Take this as a learning lesson. I am not trying to slander you for this misfortune, but now you know to be wiser in the future," Camilla’s grandmother looked at you sharply. "Love might be a wonderful thing, but it can easily misguide you and lead you to terrible things," she said. 

You remained silent, thinking what of an idiot you had been for not listening to Camilla and her parents's warning. 

"Take my advice— do not try to find love with this curse even if you find that rare one who will accept all of you, even the darker side. This curse will always remain as the scourge of your happiness," Camilla's grandmother explained. 

"It would be easier to avoid it, to spare yourself from the unnecessary pain. Do you understand me?" she asked. 

You silently nodded, your tears ceasing their endless flow. 

You stared into the empty space before you, watching as the snow began to cover the ground beneath the white blanket, remembering the sound of shotguns and the screaming of people around you. 

You snapped your eyes open, hearing the soft singing of the elves in the distance and staring at a corner in your room through the dusky light. 

You turned around on your bed, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling in deep thought while listening to the early singing of the elves, who seem to love staying up late. The words flow through the air in a smooth melody. Sounding strange yet wonderful at the same time. 

You wondered if you could ask Maglor to teach you elvish. It's such an intriguing language, nearly sounding like a mix of languages from your world, and your world had many. 

Turning on your side, you thought about the dream. Camilla's grandmother—she was an intimidating figure and the head of the family. You used to be pretty terrified of her, but it was thanks to her that you were allowed to live and taken into foster care. Otherwise, you would have been neutralized.

She was a woman of authority and respect-- even Camilla's mother did not dare to talk back at her. 

She was cool in her own way — she sometimes allowed you and Camilla to skip boring classes when you were kids and sneak treats when Camilla's mother didn't allow any. She nearly reminded you of your own grandmother, except she was a bit more cold and sometimes emotionless. 

Camilla's family has an odd number of women who are cold in their own way. 

You remembered her advice— the advice not to find love when you are still cursed. It will always be the scourge of your happiness. 

You had followed that advice ever since the incident, but now--- you didn't know anymore. 

Maglor might be the rare one she was talking about. He accepted you and kept your secret safe, asking nothing in return. But having these feelings for him sounded so wrong, even Camilla didn't approve of them. 

How did this come to be? 

You tried pushing Maglor out of your mind and going back to sleep to gain any rest before sunrise, hoping to think about it later. 

After hours of tossing around, staring into nothing, and hopelessly trying to catch some sort of sleep -- you gave up and waited crucially for the sun to rise and the elven kingdom to wake up, so you could do something else than die from boredom. 

Thankfully, Nelle had come early to take a look at your head. She apparently sensed you were awake, so you two talked, and then you sat still as she did some strange magic with her fingers that wandered around your head. It felt odd but nice in a way, but you were concerned about what she may find. 

Her fingers then touched a lower part of your head, and a sharp pain made you jolt forward, rubbing the aching spot with a painful groan. 

"Ow..." you silently uttered. 

Nelle stopped and stepped around you. 

"As I thought, you have a deeper injury to your head. A sensitive spot upon your skull that should not be there," she explained. "I had my suspicions when you told me about falling into a river and waking up in here. It seems they were correct," she said. 

"So, are you saying that I have a cracked skull that didn't fully heal?" you asked.

"It would explain the headaches, disorientations, and the swelling on the back of your head," she said. "I can heal it, but it will take time. I'm afraid your stay will be extended because of that," she added. 

You groaned. 

"Just my luck," you uttered as staying longer was not in your plan. You then noticed Luthien showing up at the healer's hall. She looked at you with a soft smile on her face. 

"Good morning, (Name). Did you rest well?" she asked. 

You thought about how to answer. "Well enough, I'll say. What can I do for you, princess?" you respectfully bowed your head. 

"I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me through the forest today? The flowers bloom beautifully at this time of the morning, and I enjoy the cool breeze of the morning mist," she asked. "Oh--- when you say it like that even I get excited," you mindlessly said. "I mean! I would love to accompany you, princess. It's just I now found out that I have a cracked skull, and I'm not certain if it's wise of me to do anything rash," you explained. 

Nelle rolled her eyes. "Your injury is not that severe yet. You can go. Just avoid running and doing something that might cause blood to rush to your head. Clean air might do good for you," she said. 

"Oh. In case. I guess I can come," you stood up. "Wonderful! But if it's that serious are you certain you do not need any rest?" Luthien asked. "I actually feel better than yesterday. Look even the vampire bites are already gone," You shoved the bite mark on your shoulder that was faint. "I see. Come then while the morning is still young," Luthien handed you her hand, and you took it, letting yourself be pulled from the healer's hall. 

During your walk out of the healer's halls with Luthien, you took the chance to look around the kingdom. The halls were big and grand. There were a lot of statues and carvings on the walls, and you even noticed green leaves prospering near lights and the flowing rivers. 

Elves walked and left, throwing you glances and looks when they noticed you. Their eyes were filled with confusion and intrigue. There were truly no other humans around because then they wouldn't look at you like an exotic new creature. It felt weird, but it was not the first time for you either, taking your experience in Maglor's Gap and other situations you had in your world. 

You followed Luthien like a little duckling as she led you through the busy halls and corridors. You thought you were used to being around elves, but apparently not. You felt small and alone. 

You have heard how weary and proud Sindar elves were, so perhaps the thought of something happening by their hands kept you on your toes. And not to mention, your first appearance wasn't so great either, so no wonder you felt nervous. 

Luthien smiled as the music suddenly reached her ears. "Ah... it seems Daeron has composed a new song," she said. "Who?" you asked, not familiar with the name. 

"Our kingdom's minstrel and loremaster. He's even considered one of the greatest in Beleriand. Come, you must hear his music," Luthien said, walking toward somewhere. "Uh, Okay," you followed awkwardly. 

Luthien led you to a room, where an elf was playing an unfamiliar instrument, surrounded by other elves. The music he created was lively, and you could feel yourself becoming rather happy and energized. 

You felt yourself vibing with the song and even slowly moving with the rhythm. Luthien simply smiled at you when she noticed your reaction. 

You listened to the song along with Luthien until it came to a harmonious end, and the elves cheered for the musician, clapping and praising him. 

"What do you think?" Luthien asked. "It was good. I vibe with it. He earned the title of the greatest," you said. She looked at you, confused. "What do you mean by the word vibe?" she asked. 

"Uhh... " you started, not expecting the question. "I'm having a good time. It's a slang word from where I am from," you explained. "Ah... I like it," Luthien said as the musician elf suddenly appeared in front of her. 

"Princess," the elf greeted with a respectful bow. "Daeron. That was a lovely performance," Luthien smiled at him. "I think you have outdone yourself this time," she praised. "Oh, you are too kind with your words, princess," Daeron smiled back. 

You watched as the Luthien continued praising and how Daeron seemed to have sucked in the praise. His eyes held a glint that was locked on Luthien. He was definitely into her romantically. Luthien only seemed to take him for a friend. 

"Oh, by the way. This is (Name). The human that arrived yesterday," Luthien introduced you. "Uh, hi," you awkwardly greeted. "Greetings. Your sudden arrival had caused quite a talk around the kingdom," Daeron politely said. "Was it your blood you were dressed in when you arrived in the court?" he asked. "Uhm..." you tried to think carefully about how to answer. "Most of it, yes, and some of it was from the vampire I wrestled with," you replied. "You... wrestled with a vampire?" Daeron tilted his head curiously at you. "Yeah, it was kind of like a death and life situation, and I wanted to live, so I wrestled with the vampires to save my life," you explained. "It was pretty scary since it was three against one, but I survived. I can still feel the bite marks ache whenever I think about it," you rolled your shoulder. "Oh... I didn't know you humans were that durable," Daeron said. "Oh, we can do a lot of things when our lives are in danger, especially when danger is pretty common in the north," you said as suddenly someone else appeared to the group. 

"You're from the north?" the new elf spoke. "Yeah... is that a problem," you answered hesitantly. "Nothing. I just thought humans from the north are less... how do say it? civilized and more... savage." he said, and you frowned. "But of course, you did come here covered in blood, so I guess I'm not far from wrong," he added, and you resisted to urge to irk at him. What was his problem? 

"And you are?" you asked, nearly challenged. "Lord Saeros, and do remember to address me as that," he said. "Lord Saeros, please... I wish you do not try to provoke my guest here, especially when she has to stay here to heal from her injuries," Luthien said. "Oh, my apologies, princess. I will change my attitude," he smiled at her. You frowned, knowing damn well he was not. 

"I guess you came here to educate her of our musical culture. Daeron is one of the greatest musicians in this kingdom. You have not most likely heard anything like that?" Saeros looked at you. "No. This is my first time indeed hearing his music, and I do think it's great," you said, and he grinned. "See, so do consider it an honor to hear music from one of the greatest minstrels in Beleriand," he said. "Oh, I do not know about that. I have heard about a Noldor elf named Maglor and that he was considered one of the greatest minstrels among his kin," you said. He scoffed. "Do not mention the name of a kinslayer. A murderer is not worthy of the title of a musician," he said. 

"Okay, calm down, Saeros. I was just saying," you said with your hands up. 

"It's lord Saeros!" he said. 

"Saeros," you said back. 

"Lord Saeros!" he said louder. 

"Sae--ros!" you said again. 

He looked like he could nearly blow up on you till Daeron interfered. "Alright. We have somewhere else to go. I wish you a fast recovery, lady (Name)," Daeron grabbed the elf and pulled him away as he left. 

You released a sigh and looked at Luthien. "Luthien, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," you said. "It's fine. Saeros is known for not having the greatest views on humans," Luthien patted your shoulder. "Well, he does seem rather stuck up," you said, making her chuckle.

"Let's go to the forest now. We have spent enough time here," Luthien left, and you followed. 

Maglor twirled the quill between his fingers, lost in thought about your disappearance. A day had passed, and the uncertainty regarding your whereabouts and well-being filled him with anxiety. The idea of you possibly being imprisoned by the enemy sent dreadful shivers down his spine. Where could you be, and why hadn't you returned yet?

Maglor glanced outside, thinking of Camilla and her strange behavior. He still couldn't figure out why she had become defensive toward him when it came to you. What could it be? 

He set down his quill on the desk and stood up. It was obvious focus was not coming to him today, so he might as well check on Camilla. 

He arrived at the healer's wing and saw Camilla working on healing recent patients and handling paperwork. She looked tired and more annoyed than before, so he hesitated if he should approach her now. Her eyes locked with his, and he left his thoughts and approached her. 

"Do you need something, my lord?" Camilla asked while continuing sorting out the vials and medicines on the shelves. "I just wanted to see how you were faring," Maglor answered. "Well, I am doing fine, so there is nothing to worry about," Camilla replied, still not taking her attention away from her current task. Maglor thought about his next question. 

"Camilla. Have I done something to upset you?" Maglor questioned.

"No. What makes you think of that?" Camilla asked back. "You seem rather hostile toward me when it comes to (Name)," he explained. "If you're worried about me revealing her secret. I assure you I will not do that," he added. "Not after how her actions have helped us avoid the worst in the Sudden Flames," 

"I wish her well. And if you want to put me on a test. I am willing to do that," Maglor said, and Camilla finally stopped. She took a deep breath before looking at him. "Well, you're being annoying enough to make that clear, but it's not just that," she said. "Then what? What is it?" Maglor asked. Camilla looked at him in the eye. "How do you feel about (Name)?" she asked. 

Maglor was confused for a moment. "I consider her a friend," he answered, but Camilla looked even more annoyed. "I know you consider her a friend. How do you feel about her overall? Her secret and everything. I know you two have been spending time at night in one of the local gardens," she explained. 

Maglor searched through his feelings and recalled all the moments he spent with you. The moments when you would tell him about the stories of your world, your smile, and the exotic moments he experienced with you. And the moments he got to sing for you. 

"I feel happy around her," he started. "I worry about her well-being and the curse, but she always gets through, which I find admirable, and I like listening to her stories," a ghostly smile appeared on his face. "She keeps me up on my toes, and I..." he looked at Camilla. "I care for her. I do," he said with seriousness. 

"Even if she is cursed with a deadly spirit that could turn her into a terrible creature?" Camilla asked. 

"She didn't hurt me when she first revealed that form, back when I was briefly captured by the orcs," Maglor reflected, recalling the moment he discovered your secret. "I believe she has the strength to keep it under control, especially once you find the medicine," he added.

Camilla was quiet for a moment. "Okay... might as well go for it," she muttered under her breath, making Maglor look at her curiously. "Would you..." Camilla looked at him. "Consider your care for her... as love?" she asked. 

Maglor carefully thought about the question. Was she asking if he could be— in love with you? A new feeling bloomed within his chest. The thought felt wonderful. 

"Maybe..." he said. 

“You do not know yet?” Camilla asked. “Now that you asked, it made me think that… maybe I am,” Maglor answered. “Okay… you figure that out then,” Camilla said. “Is that… why you have been rather grumpy toward me?” Maglor asked. “Goodbye!” she said, and he quickly left as she looked like a wolf ready to attack. He did not want to do that today. Camilla sat silently on the chair after the elf left her sight. She released a tired sight as she has now confirmed the worst. 

“For fuck sake… this is gonna end up in some romance drama,” she said as she started working on the papers.

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter three: ghosts of asphodel

(masterlist) (part 1) (part 2)

hello beautiful people!! here's part three :)

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Asphodel: Portion of the Greek Underworld where ordinary souls are said to go after death. Asphodel lilies are said to symbolize the sentiment, “my regrets follow you to the grave.”

[Ellie]

Ellie woke with a start as several sharp knocks came from the door. Covered in a thin layer of sweat, she tried to remember what she had been dreaming about. All she could recall was the sensation of falling, falling, fallin and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom, but even those were fading as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and pushed her hair out of her face.

It was not unlike any other night, since she couldn’t remember a time recently where she hadn’t been woken up by a horrible nightmare. The knocking was new, though; she hadn’t reconnected with most people since returning, and certainly not enough to warrant a visit after dark. Reaching over to turn on a lamp, she threw off the covers and crossed the small room to open the door.

“Oh, uh, Maria, I–” Ellie began, surprised to see the town’s leader standing there.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Ellie,” Maria interrupted. “I know you said you needed some space when you got back, but something… urgent has come up. I need you to come with me, please.”

Ellie looked around nervously, confused as to why Maria would need her help with something so important when there were plenty of other capable, more congenial options available. “I mean, I’m happy to help if you need me, but… is there not, I don’t know… anyone else?” Ellie asked awkwardly.

Maria looked at her with a sympathetic expression, remembering how traumatized Ellie had been after what happened in Santa Barbara. “Ellie, if there was someone else I could ask, I would be at their doorstep right now. But there are some people here who, uh… who need to talk to you.”

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows. “Me? Why? There are a lot of people who aren’t very happy with me right now.” Her socks suddenly became very interesting as she thought of the long, long list of people who might want to kill her.

Maria quickly shook her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I think… I think you might be able to help them. But I think you should hear it from them.”

Still looking at the ground, Ellie stood silently, unsure how to respond. Me? Help them? Why am I so special? She ran a toe along the edge of the floorboard.

Sensing her indecision, Maria placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gazed at her softly. “I think this could be really good for you, Ellie.”

Maria’s words brought Ellie out of her thoughts. She looked up and made eye contact with the older woman, almost shocked by how gentle the usually-stern Maria was being.

After a moment of consideration, Ellie replied, “Okay.Let me put some shoes on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not gonna do this again.”

“That’s up to you.”

Their last words to each other rang in Ellie’s head as she gripped the envelope in her hands. After returning from Santa Barbara and finding their farmhouse empty, she knew things with Dina would never be the same. While she was away, Ellie thought about Dina and J.J. every day. She knew her decision had created an irreparable rift between them, but that didn’t stop her from caring deeply about the little family she had left behind.

Ellie hadn’t spoken to Dina in the few weeks since returning, partly because Ellie hardly left her house, but mostly because she made a point to avoid places she knew Dina might be. Ellie hadn’t been on patrol, she only took meals to-go, and she definitely didn’t attend Jackson’s infamous parties – parties just like the one being held that night.

She desperately wanted to talk to Dina – to apologize, to explain herself, to ask Dina to forgive her – but she knew better. She knew Dina meant what she had said that night at the farmhouse all those months ago, and she didn’t want to make Dina’s life any more complicated than she had already managed to make it.

Still, at the very least, Ellie wanted Dina to know how sorry she was. A letter, Ellie thought. So she wrote. And wrote, and wrote, and wrote, but she could never seem to get the words right. When at last she drafted something decent, she sealed the paper in an old envelope and grabbed her jacket.

Though she hadn’t spoken to Dina, she had learned from other people around the community that Dina and J.J. moved in with Jesse’s parents after abandoning the farmhouse. Knowing everyone would be attending the party in the town square, Ellie made her way to Dina’s new residence until eventually she found herself standing in front of a red mailbox, nervously considering the envelope in her hands. Lost in thought as she considered if the letter was a good idea, she didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching from behind her. A voice called out to her – a voice she hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

“Ellie?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last time a group of strangers came to Jackson looking for someone, it turned out to be one of the worst days of Ellie’s life. As she followed Maria towards the center of town, Ellie grew more and more anxious about meeting the newcomers awaiting her. When Maria’s house came into view and the pair approached the front door, Maria paused for a moment before reaching for the knob. Putting her hand on Ellie’s shoulder, she said softly, “Just hear them out, okay?”

Ellie forced a small smile and replied, “I’ll try.”

Maria returned the smile and opened the door to step inside. As Ellie followed her to one of the plush couches in the living area, Ellie quickly scanned the room. There were two people she had known from patrol, but four strangers occupied the space opposite her and Maria’s couch. Two burly men stood menacingly behind the sofa, and their military-esque uniforms and posture reminded Ellie of her various interactions with FEDRA soldiers.

The two seated strangers stood out in almost comical contrast to the large men behind them. There was an older man – probably older than Maria, by the looks of it – who awkwardly adjusted the round, wire-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. Though he was sitting down, Ellie could tell he was a lanky, unassuming type of person.

The final stranger was a girl – probably around her age, Ellie guessed – sitting next to him. She wore her curly, strawberry-blonde hair in a long ponytail and donned small silver hoops in her ears. Ellie noticed the girl and the older man had the same bright, brown eyes, and wondered if it was a familial resemblance. As she pondered the similarity, Ellie realized a moment too late that the girl’s eyes were looking straight back at her, and quickly looked away when she noticed.

Maria cleared her throat and set her tightly folded hands in her lap.

“Alright, well… start talking.”

The older man adjusted himself on the couch so he could sit up straighter. “Yes, well, I realize you probably don’t get visitors like this very often, and I do apologize for any commotion we might have created. My name is Doctor Steven Reynolds, and I’m one of the head researchers at the Administration for the Research and Containment of Cordyceps. A.R.C.C, for short.” He gestured to the girl sitting next to him. “This is my daughter Lucy. She’s one of the junior researchers at A.R.C.C.”

So they are family, Ellie thought to herself.

Dr. Reynolds motioned to the large men behind him. “These are Officers Jacobs and Alvaro. They made sure we got here in one piece. As I explained earlier, our organization is based in Atlanta, out of what was formerly the Centers for Disease Control. A core group of experts has been conducting research there since the outbreak, and we’ve made substantial progress in understanding the contagion, but far less in terms of being able to combat it.

“All of our previous research samples have been conducted on recently infected subjects. Obviously we don’t purposely infect people – that would violate just about every ethical and moral code there is – but when one of our own gets infected, they have the choice to voluntarily submit themselves to testing as they… ah… as the infection spreads. Unfortunately, when the infection spreads too far, well – I'm sure you know all too well what happens then. It gets too dangerous for us to keep them contained, so our sampling time is limited at best.”

For the first time since entering the house, Ellie spoke. 

“What does that have to do with me?” she said, arms crossed protectively in front of her chest.

“It has everything to do with you.” Dr. Reynolds grinned. “Ms. Williams, right? It really is a pleasure to be meeting you in person.”

“Um, just Ellie is fine. And thanks, I think?” She looked skeptically at the group of strangers in front of her. “Although I’m not really sure what I did to be so worth meeting.”

Dr. Reynolds chuckled as if she had just told a joke. “Ms. Williams – Ellie – you are a walking medical miracle. Even before the outbreak, our methods for treating serious fungal infections were almost nonexistent. I’ll admit, in the past couple years even I was beginning to worry there really wouldn’t be a way out of this. And then we heard about you.” He paused. “You were bitten, correct?”

Ellie shifted in her seat. “Uh, yeah. A couple times actually.”

Dr. Reynolds’ eyes lit up as he listened. “And what happened in the hours that followed, may I ask?”

She nervously ran a hand along the back of her neck. Only a handful of people in the entire world knew about her condition, and she didn’t have much practice answering these kinds of questions. “Uh, well, they kind of got all red and itchy. And there were some cysts too. But eventually they just scabbed over and left some pretty nasty scars.”

Dr. Reynolds ran his hands through his white beard as he thought about what she said. “Fascinating. Utterly fascinating.” He mumbled some scientific jargon to himself that Ellie didn’t even try to understand. “Could I… could I see one of them, perhaps?”

Suddenly, Lucy gasped and gave him a light slap on the wrist. “Dad! You can’t just ask to see something like that.” She turned to address Ellie directly. “Sorry about that. You don’t have to show him anything.”  Lucy gave her father a pointed look as she said, “He just gets… carried away sometimes.”

Ellie gave a small laugh, amused by their interaction. It obviously wasn’t the first time he’d said something less-than-appropriate while excited about his research.

“No, it’s okay.” She leaned forward and showed him the side of her left hand, just under where her pinkie used to be. The crescent-shaped scar was still visible, but only just.“This one’s about two months old. Healed a lot better than the first one.”

Dr. Reynolds gently took her hand and examined the bite. He shook his head in disbelief. “Never, in all my years, have I seen anything like this.” After a few moments, he said to Lucy, “Here, take a closer look.”

Lucy’s eyes darted nervously in Ellie’s direction, as if unsure about subjecting the other girl to such intense examination. Ellie noticed her uncertainty and reassured her, saying, “Really, it’s okay. I don’t bite.” Ellie could have sworn she heard one of the guards snort under his breath. 

She held her hand out to Lucy, who gingerly took it in both of her own. She still hesitated a moment, but her curiosity got the better of her and she leaned in to look closer, their foreheads now only about a foot apart. They were close enough now that Ellie noticed a small tattoo on Lucy’s left wrist that she hadn’t noticed before – a small spattering of dots which at first appeared to have no pattern, yet somehow seemed to form shapes that were vaguely familiar.

Ellie was surprised by how soft the other girl’s hands were; she seldom met anyone whose skin hadn’t been calloused by years of manual labor. Lucy brushed her thumb over the arc of the scar. Quietly, Lucy asked, “Does it… does it still hurt?” As she spoke, she lifted her gaze to meet Ellie’s, brown eyes meeting green.

Ellie smiled sadly. “No, not really. It’s just kind of… ugly. Hurts more to look at, I guess.”

Lucy returned a sympathetic smile. “Well, for the record, I don’t think it’s ugly. I think it’s pretty badass.” She gave Ellie’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it and sitting back in her seat.

Ellie ran her own thumb over the faint scar and smiled shyly, considering Lucy’s statement. “Thanks,” she replied, almost inaudibly.

Dr. Reynolds continued, “It’s my belief that we have not achieved much success on the treatment front because we haven’t had the right subject. Ellie, you – your immunity – could be invaluable to the research we’ve been conducting. I have every reason to believe that understanding the mechanism behind your immunity is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for.”

Looking at her shoes, Ellie said solemnly, “Last time someone said that, they wanted to cut out my brain. Which, like, if that’s the only way, then sure. Just wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”

Dr. Reynolds furrowed his brow. “I don’t know who exactly was involved in that operation, but I do know the Fireflies were never known for their medical brilliance. It seems quite foolish to permanently incapacitate your only subject, wouldn’t you agree? No, at our headquarters we have access to all of the equipment and machines formerly used by the CDC itself. There would be no need for complete internal extraction.”

Ellie considered his explanation. A cure? And it wouldn’t kill me?

Maria placed a hand on Ellie’s knee and gave her a gentle smile before turning to the traveling party. “Can she have the night to think about it?” she asked.

Dr. Reynolds nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course. I want you to be sure about whatever you decide.”

“Thank you,” Maria said. “We’ll find somewhere for you all to stay tonight. Ellie, why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll come get you in the morning.”

Ellie nodded reluctantly and stood up from the couch. She gave a small, awkward wave before opening the door and exiting without saying a word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ellie?”

Startled, Ellie turned around and stared wide-eyed at the two familiar faces staring back at her.

“Dina – I –”

“What are you doing here?” Dina’s expression was almost unreadable. Anger, confusion, sadness, hurt – it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. On her hip, a sleepy J.J. stirred at the sudden shift in his mother’s demeanor.

“I was, um… I thought you’d be at the party,” Ellie stammered.

“We were. But he’s, you know, a baby. And we’re both tired,” Dina said shortly.

Ellie looked between the two faces that had once been her entire world. “Right, sorry, I was just…” she trailed off.

“What? You were just what? You leave in the middle of the night, you’re gone for weeks, and when you get back you still say nothing? Then you show up at my doorstep hoping I’d… what, exactly? Take you back?”

Ellie shook her head vigorously. “No, no, that’s not –”

“Newsflash, Ellie, you’re the one who left. You chose this. We had something good and you abandoned it,” Dina spat out the words like acid. “For what? To chase someone who might’ve already been dead? Just so you could, what, kill her?”

“No, I didn’t – I couldn’t –”

“It seems like the only thing you’re good at is getting people killed. If we hadn’t gone after her in the first place, Jesse would still be here. J.J. would still have his dad.” Dina’s words stung. Ellie wanted to protest, but she knew deep down that everything Dina said was true.

Sensing the tension in the air, J.J. started to whimper. Dina averted her attention to the child on her hip as she comforted him, cooing softly at him while she swayed him gently. When he calmed down, she sighed, and it was obvious how tired she was.

“So what are you doing here, Ellie?”

At a loss for words, Ellie became aware of the item in her hand again. “I… I wrote you a letter. I wanted to apologize,” she said weakly.

Dina shook her head. “You really don’t get it, do you? I meant what I said. I’m not doing this again. I can’t have you coming in and out of our lives every time someone wrongs you.  I can’t let him get hurt like that again. I don’t want your letter. I don’t want you in my life. We’re done, Ellie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ellie stepped out into the cool night air and pulled the door closed behind her. Dr. Reynolds’ offer bounced around her head like a ping pong ball. It seemed too good to be true, but everything he said seemed to check out. For years, she had thought of her immunity as something she had to hide, something that had only ever brought horrible things into her life. But with a team of scientists who actually know what they’re doing…  couldn’t it be more than that? Wouldn’t a cure make her life matter again? 

Hadn’t that been what she’d told Joel, all those years ago?

She was no stranger to traveling outside of Jackson, but another cross-country trip would always be daunting. There was no telling what kinds of people were out there now – alive or infected. And she didn’t know anything about these strangers other than their names. Still, that hadn’t stopped her the first time.

As she made her way through the dark streets, she passed the house with the red mailbox. Two handprints in white paint adorned one side, one adult-sized and one much smaller. Ellie smiled sadly as she imagined Dina and J.J. pressing their painted hands on the metal frame, and the mess that inevitably followed. Curtained windows let light spill out into the darkness, and Ellie could see the silhouettes of the family inside.

Pausing for a moment, Ellie quickly walked over to the curb. She took a deep breath and reached out to hang something on the little signal flag attached to the mailbox. As she walked away, the light from inside reflected off of a small metal charm bracelet. For good luck, Ellie thought.

As she neared her house, she found her feet leading her down a separate path. Before she knew it, she was sitting on the soft grass of the cemetery in front of Joel’s headstone. A few feet away, a more recent headstone had been erected.

Jesse

Son, father, friend.

Ellie glanced sadly at the words as she picked idly at the grass in front of her. Unlike the other stones, no grave had been dug for Jesse since there was no body to be buried. She thought about their last night in Seattle, and how Jesse’s corpse was probably rotting right where they had left it. The thought made her nauseous. Her chest filled with the heavy sensations of shame, guilt, and regret.

Ellie lay down on her back and ran her fingers through the grass that had grown over Joel’s burial site. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. After all we’ve been through, everything that I’ve done… it can’t be for nothing. Her conversation with him in Salt Lake City echoed around her head.

It won’t be for nothing, she decided. I won’t let it.

When Maria knocked on her door the next morning, Ellie was wide awake and had already packed a bag. Maria took note and said, “I guess you’ve made your decision?” Ellie nodded.

“Alright. Let’s get you some food for the road, then.”

Ellie nodded again. She turned off the light for what she knew would probably be the last time, and shut the door behind her.

[sshbpodcast]

Bottom Five Star Trek VOY Episodes

by Ames

Star Trek: Voyager gets a lot of flak for not always capitalizing on its unique circumstance, as a show about a cumulative journey meant to take a lot of time. Some of that is the episodic nature of the show: audiences needed to be able to tune in randomly and not feel as lost as the crew were. But some bad episodes just had no excuse. And you’ll see a lot of that in A Star to Steer Her By’s picks for worst episodes of the show. 

We’ll miss all our Delta Quadrant friends, enemies, and alien races, sure. We’ll miss the ship and the crew. But there’s also a lot that we won’t miss, as there were a good deal of missed opportunities, clunkers, and just plain offensive episodes along the way. Good riddance to those! Scroll on to see what we mean in our bottom five episodes of Voyager below, and/or listen to our coverage over on the podcast (series review starts at 1:29:20) with some audio-exclusive picks from guest star Liz! It’s finally time to self destruct this ship.

[images © CBS/Paramount]

“The Fight”: Ames I’m pretty clear on my stance on dream sequence episodes, but for those of you sitting in the back: I hate them. They’re contrived, they’re convenient, they’re too literal. Just ugh all around. Which is a shame because there’s something in this episode that could have been interesting for Chakotay to do for a change, but it got lost somewhere in boxing metaphors and some Native American spiritualism. Talk about a bad dream!

“Tattoo”: Chris Speaking of Native American spiritualism, this episode is just plain uncomfortable and it all comes down to the one line of dialogue that goes too far: “Forty five thousand years ago, on our first visit to your world, we met a small group of nomadic hunters. They had no spoken language, no culture, except the use of fire and stone weapons.” Oh writers, you done screwed up to imply that the only reason Native Americans have culture is because aliens. A-koo-chee-moh-no.

“Alice”: Caitlin Caitlin surprised us a couple times in her series picks by opting for episodes she hadn’t even included in her season-by-season lists! So welcome, “Alice,” to the bottoms list. The femme fatale ship was just too tropey and icky and really brought Tom’s character down a few pegs. It’s episodes like this that make us wonder how on earth Torres stayed with him throughout the show.

“Ex Post Facto”: Jake Tom did some more suffering in this early-seasons dud of an episode. We’ve seen Star Trek do film noir to a slightly better effect in something like DS9’s “Necessary Evil,” but this one just whiffs hard at the style. It doesn’t help that the Baneans’ hair feathers are distracting as hell and that the conclusion that the damn dog helps solve stretches credulity to its very limits. Have the writers never met a dog before?

“Concerning Flight”: Caitlin You’d think John Rhys-Davies playing Leonardo da Vinci would elevate an episode to something greater, but somehow this baffling episode proved to be a waste of time. We spent most of it confused by pretty much everyone’s motivations. Why did Tau keep da Vinci around? How did da Vinci not notice anything was out of the ordinary on this planet? Does the sun always set in the same place on this planet? Who knows!

“Body and Soul”: Ames I’ve clumped a bunch of really gross, sexist episodes together if only to rile myself up because I hate these kinds of episodes so much. But how can one not get riled up when Seven tells the Doctor that he violated her and his response is to blame her? What should be a fun romp watching Jeri Ryan get to pretend to be another character is horribly tainted by that “she was asking for it” attitude. And then for Seven to be the one to apologize while the Doctor never sees what he did was wrong: VOMIT!

“Retrospect”: Chris Oh look, more violating Seven of Nine! This show really couldn’t help itself sometimes. What else was there to do when you had an attractive woman on the cast but to exploit her? If this episode was trying to debunk false memories, it failed hard by making it about a violation of a woman character because then the only thing you can see is the allegory for fake rape allegations, and that is not the message you want to send. Plus the doctor suddenly peddling pseudoscience is just nonsense.

“Blood Fever”: Ames Here’s another gross sexual act that I’ve never been quite okay with. Pon farr as a plot device was fine enough in “Amok Time.” Weird and kind of illogical, but fine. But when Vorik goes and sexually assaults Torres and everyone tries to sweep it under the rug because it’s some weird Vulcan bullshit, that’s not fine. And when Tom makes it clear that it would not be consensual for him and Torres to bang it out but Tuvok insists they do, I am all the more disgusted. No means no, Vulcans!

“Sacred Ground”: Ames, Jake We’ve got some overlap in our remaining bottom picks, starting with this absolutely nonsensical debate between science and faith that just boils down to: believe everything you’re told without questioning it and maybe magic is real. There’s a reason this franchise usually shies away from addressing religion in this kind of way. It’s one thing for a character (or a person in real life!) to have faith; it’s quite another for miracles to just happen for plot convenience (unless you’re part wormhole alien or something).

“11:59”: Caitlin, Chris, Jake The hatred for Henry Janeway is strong in this room (though that might be because Chris skews the curve a bit). But he’s just a wet blanket of a character who’s just taking his son and his whole damn town down to his level through sheer obstinance. Add to that the fact that he seriously has no chemistry with Shannon – like really, he could be her father – and you’ve got a massive clunker of an episode on your hands.

“Fury”: Caitlin, Chris, Jake The series as a whole wasted Kes as a character, which was quite the shame to watch, but the one thing it did do was give her a poignant and powerful farewell in “The Gift.” But Voyager can giveth and Voyager can taketh away, and this return of Jennifer Lien as the hardened, hellbent, furious Kes basically attempts to ruin her character. This was not the Kes we knew and loved, and damned if we even understand how she got there. How dare they do this to our sweeting!

“Elogium”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake Finally, the one we all agree on is some other weird sex claptrap. The Vulcans may have their pon farr (which I hate enough on its own), but the Ocampa have elogium, which somehow makes even less sense! Biology aside (blegh), the rest of the episode is confused in its messaging: these are people who are not ready for a baby, but instead of really exploring what that means for them, we’re stuck with this weird Ocampan heat thing. This whole episode has lost its sex appeal!

—

See also: our Top Five Star Trek VOY Episodes list! And why not: here’re all the seasonal tops and bottoms from seasons 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7!

We’ll still miss the Voyager and her plucky crew of misfits… just not when they were being racist or misogynist for no reason. And while I’d love to say we’re glad all those bad episodes are over, there’s always more bad ideas to go around. Let’s see how our next show in the rotation compares as we prepare ourselves for our next watchthrough: Star Trek: Enterprise! We’d love for you to watch along with us on SoundCloud or whatever podcast platform is your favorite, to hang out with us on Facebook and Twitter, and to really brace yourself because we know more pon farr action is on the way. Ew.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Would it help you feel more motivated to write a short story to hear that I am a huge fan of your fanfic? I mentioned how much I love your poetry before I think, so I'd love to see what your take on a short story or fable would be!

When I was a kid, I always wanted a dragon as a pet. My mother was allergic to them and, while I don't remember the reason, I don't remember her ever wanting me to play with one.

I did have several (very tiny) dragons that I made, which I could "ride" in an imaginary way. (In a sense, this was a sort of "video game" for me -- I played with the dragons and they could "eat" and "talk," and I got points for doing certain things.) It was like the game "Fantasy Flight," where you can carry around "magical" animals.

I thought about all of this during the dream and came up with this story. I can't really remember how much of it was just an "after-the-fact" creation.

---

"My name is Orellan Dung, and I'm a dragon. No, not like those things that sit in the grass and you can ride on their backs."

A short, very small man with a round face peered at the dragon, which was now sitting next to him, holding itself upright on its little back legs. Orellan Dung's hands were covered in warts, and he looked nervous. The man's hand was raised and he appeared to be examining the dragon, a small and very ordinary-looking man with a mustache.

"Well, how many legs?" he said.

Orellan Dung, whose mouth was wide open like a yawn, spoke up.

"All of them," he replied. "I only have one head."

A large crowd of people began to fill the room, although they were not sure why or how.

A short man with dark hair and a very serious, almost sad face walked into the center of the room and started looking around with some confusion.

"Why do you say that?" he asked Orellan Dung.

"Because the others that I knew had only five legs. The last one died three months ago and the only one left is me."

"And yet your head has no ears, does it?"

"No, but if they had I could only hear them from my mouth."

The crowd began to thin out as people who could not follow the dialogue decided that this was not for them.

The man looked at the dragon, who was now resting on its bottom half.

"How can I believe that?" he said.

"I am a dragon," said Orellan Dung.

"You have one head, one neck, two arms and one body. I don't see any wings."

"You will see them," Orellan Dung said softly.

"Please," said the man, "why can't you see that you are a dragon?"

A man and a woman sat down on a bench. They were dressed in simple peasant clothes, and the man had a long beard and gray hair. The woman had a long flowing dark green gown and black hair.

"Why can't we see it?" asked the man.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted a dragon as a pet," she said.

"Me too," the man replied.

"My mother was allergic and, while I don't remember the reason, she never wanted me to play with one."

"She never wanted you to do anything with one either," said the man, "and yet here you are."

"I don't know, I just had a dragon in my head and it's always there and I can hear it," said the woman. "I never get lonely. I am never afraid."

"But you are alone," the man said.

Orellan Dung had been leaning back in his chair and was now staring down at the floor.

"Maybe I was alone," he said in a small voice.

The dragon spoke.

"She's here too," it said in an odd voice, "the woman is always here with me. She is here and I am here and we are not alone."

"No, not all of us have wings," said Orellan Dung in a thin voice.

"If you do not have wings then we can at least have the other things," said the woman, as the man suddenly started running across the room towards a wall and disappearing from sight.

A large group of people arrived, some carrying baskets and looking very unhappy, but a voice that sounded like a tiny old woman said:

"Do you hear him? He is the same dragon Orellan Dung was speaking of."

"How do you know he is not lying?" said the man.

"They say that all children are like him. If he is a dragon then he is a dragon. The man is a man who is a dragon, and the woman is a woman who is a dragon. We can see the things that are, not just the things we want."

"And you have a dragon in your head?" the man asked.

"We can not see it," said the woman. "When I was a little boy, my mother told me that sometimes the things you can see are made up or made of things you can not see. She told me to always remember that. Perhaps I can see it after all. I can not see it at all, but I can always remember that I should not expect to see it."

"Do you see it?" asked Orellan Dung.

"We see all of the same things," said the woman. "If I cannot see it then he cannot see it. It is not his head."

"When the man ran off, the woman started to run after him.

"When you ran away, you ran down to the end of the world," the dragon said. "We see things that are not there and we see things that are not here. Perhaps you cannot see him but we can."

"I will tell you a secret," Orellan Dung said. "When I was small, a boy my age, I knew a man whose mother was a dragon. There was a small hole in her side that would grow and grow until it would grow into her, and then her blood would grow and grow and she would die. The boy knew this, but he could not see it. When I asked my mother what was going to happen, she said she had read of something like this, it was in a book that she had once read about dragons. I asked her to show me what the hole was, but the boy's mother would not bring me."

"We do not always see the things that are. This one, the man, he will see you even if you cannot see him."

"I wish that I could help," Orellan Dung said softly. "But I can not."

Suddenly the dragon spoke again:

"She is coming," it said.

"She is here," said the woman in a whisper.

"How is she here?" the man asked, staring at the woman. "There is no way!"

"When I was a child," said the woman in a quiet voice, "I dreamed of the man who killed my mother."

"Is she coming here too?" said the dragon.

"We see everything," said the woman. "All of you, you are here and you are there, and there