#also I've been reading a lot of funky stuff about children of fairies and I want to weave as much as I can into eliana's story

[pictureofdoriaaaaaangay]

chaotic book ramble so I can stop spiraling into the abyss: my childhood favorite books that I've been thinking about lately

I start college in four days, where I'll be pursuing an English degree. I've been both a reader and by extension a writer my whole life. lately, I've been thinking about the books I loved when I was younger that fueled this passion and thus helped me along to where I am now <3

The Land of Stories series by Chris Colfer. I still have my old copies of these books, and when I tell you they are well-loved, I mean they are well-loved. they're sort of fairytale retellings, and take place in the Land of Stories, which exists as a parallels world to this one where fairytale characters are real and living beyond their happily ever afters. the books follow twins Alex and Connor, who find out (spoiler?? lol) that their grandmother is the fairy godmother. all sorts of stuff goes down, and honestly I only remember half of it like a fever dream, but I remember really loving it in book five (?) when they get to meet the characters from stories Connor wrote. honestly, I probably read the entire series over fifty times, and that's not an exaggeration. first read them the year the third book came out, when I was nine. waiting for the rest was, I recall, absolute torture.

the Spiderwick Chronicles by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi. this is so funny to me, because these books basically set me up for my later teen years and loving the Folk of the Air series by Holly Black - but I digress. I first read these at age eight in a high-stress time of my life, and as a result they were likely deeply formative. they follow twins Jared and Simon (more twins ??) and their older sister Mallory (thinking back, she was absolutely part of my bi awakening). they move with their mother into the old Spiderwick mansion, and soon discover a fieldguide all about faeries and different fae species that live in the woods surrounding the house. I honestly think that the plot of these books is batshit, but I still sort of love them. there's a movie, but it's terrible, and aggressively condenses the plot into something completely unrecognizable.

Harry Potter, by... Harry Potter. isn't it great that, after his time at Hogwarts, he decided to write a seven-book autobiography?? so funky of him!! anyways - I read these at the ripe age of ten, and stuck by loving them since. HP was my first fandom, and maybe the one I'm fondest of (actually, thinking on this, no), and Hogwarts in general holds a lot of nostalgia for me. this being said, I still love the books, but I have to say that I reread them last year for the first time since I was maybe 14/15 and um. wow. Mr. Potter you are?? problematic??? someone please tell me why the adult man who was allowed to abuse children in a position of power for sixteen years got a redemption arc but the literal CHILD who was born into an abusive and power-hungry family didn't. also why is Dumbedore hailed as such a bloody saint?? he's worse than fucking Voldemort. I said what I said. also it's super confusing that Harry never mentioned in his autobiography that his Sirius and Remus were happily married and living at Grimmauld place. weird storytelling choice I guess!!

all those damned Warrior cats books by Erin Hunter. I swear to god these books had crack in them I ATE THEM UP from the ages of like. eight to eleven?? maybe??? genuinely, I must've reread them a hundred times, but I could tell you NOTHING about the plots. a few vibes, maybe, but zero plots. did they even have plots?? were plots a thing in those books??? how was I so obsessed with them???? funniest part is the fact that I see people talking about them on the internet now and it's just. insane. actually insane.

Lockwood and Co by Jonathan Stroud. full transparency: I read these for the first time at age eleven (around the time the fourth book out of five came out) and now remain an active member of the fandom. I love these books, and these characters, with my whole heart and I want nothing more than them to be happy. the Netflix show, though I have some pretty severe gripes with it, is still really amazing and absolutely deserves a second season. the books are set in London, where ghosts are real deeply dangerous, and follow the main trio of Lucy, Lockwood, and George. I reread them at the start of the year in preparation for the show, and they're genuinely just incredible works. I sobbed a lot reading them. they're absolutely comfort reads for me; 35 Portland Row is home.

wow. that was a lot. there's honestly several more I could talk about (School for Good and Evil, Percy Jackson, etc), but this is a long enough post for now, ha. love you all <3

[naivesilver]

And, finally, a free pass for any character + any ask game that you so desire! 💕💗💕 Have fun~

Last, but not least- something to make our dear Jojo happy too 💝(or mad. Honestly, both options are available dahajlfhsljahdf)

Comforting Sentence Starters

"I understand that what you’re going through must be painful."

To say that Archie is surprised to open the door to his office and find Eliana standing there would be an euphemism.

The girl hasn't willingly sought him out in- well, in a long while, all things considered. Since the wardrobe, like as not. She hasn't taken the events leading up to the curse very well, and understandably so, if Archie were to be honest with himself. It's an unexpected turn of events, that she would change her mind so abruptly.

Eliana must catch on his line of thought almost immediately, though, for her neutral expression turns into a scowl before his very eyes, and she starts rummaging through her bag, finally fishing out a thin hard-cover book. "August left this at my house," she says, flatly, all but slamming it in the doctor's hands. "He says he borrowed it from you. Don't worry, I know he's done it on purpose. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

Well, Archie thinks, repressing a sigh. There are two people who are getting along just as fine as they've ever done, at least. "It's...It's alright, Eliana. Thank you. Did you want to come in?"

"Depends. Is Pongo there?"

"Unless he has left on his own in the last two minutes, I dare say yes."

She nods brusquely and steps inside, brushing past him in her beeline for Archie's dog. Archie himself, for his part, watches her go as a something clenches at his chest and squeezes, threatening to cut his breath off entirely.

Pongo, bless him, doesn't seem to be aware of the tension that has flooded the room all of a sudden, and wags his tail fiercely as he raises from his cushion, padding closer to nose at Eliana's face and neck. She breaks into a soft smile, a rare enough occurrence for her, and that's perhaps why Archie ends up closing the door behind himself, instead of leaving it open and waiting for her to leave, and attempts to speak up again, after a long stretch of silence. "How's your father?"

Eliana stops mid-fur stroke, but she doesn't look up just yet. "I wouldn't know. How's yours?"

It's a venomous jab, tailored to hurt and fester in his skin, but the doctor refuses to let it linger more than half a second before waving it away, and makes an effort to keep his voice mild. "I understand that what you went through must have been painful, Eliana, but I really think that you should talk to him. This situation isn't doing any good to either of you."

"I very much doubt it."

"He hasn't changed as much as you think, even with the curse-"

"That's not what I meant." This time she does look up, and her eyes flash dangerously as she does so, her words coming out through gritted teeth. "What I meant is, I very much doubt you understand. At all."

The problem, Archie has occasionally caught himself thinking despite his best intentions, is that while each line on August's face is a reminder of how much they've all failed him, it also makes it easier to forget who he is, from time to time. He looks so different from the boy he was that if Archie focuses hard enough, he can almost pretend it's just a common patient he's talking to, just a man from town like any other.

Eliana, though, is all Marco from top to foot, even where her features betray who her mother is. The way she speaks, the way she juts her chin out defiantly - Archie can see her father in every detail, and what's worse, he can see her during easier times, too, sixteen and dancing a mad jig with Ruby during a country fair, six and coming home in a daze after being led away by the Dark One. It's like he's still arguing with that little girl who used to trust him implicitly, or with another child, decades and decades earlier, sad and mourning and raging.

It makes it all the harder for him to begrudge her even a smidge of her anger, even when she's acting like this, radiating fury from every pore.

"You're right," he says, picking his words carefully. "I don't understand everything. And you're allowed to resent us for what happened- I will never deny it, you know that. "

"I don't need your fucking permission to be mad," Eliana spits out, raising to her feet with the deliberate slowness of predator ready to strike. "I don't need your fucking permission to do anything, Jiminy. You're not my conscience anymore- if you ever were, that is. Have never been your top priority, now, have I?"

"That's not fair and you know it, but- I'll take it. I'd rather take all that anger instead of watching you pour it on your father. He was only trying to do what he thought was best."

"Best for who?" She snorts, shaking her head. "And I've got plenty of anger for all of you, don't trouble yourself with that. For you, for him, for my mother- Any of you could have stopped this. Emma could have had at least one parent. My baby brother could have been here! Safe! With me!"

"I know." Archie can't negate her words, much as it pains him. How could he? She's right. She's always had the right of it. "I regret it as much as you do. More, even. I couldn't stop your father, but I hoped you would, until the last minute."

"Believe me, if I'd been there, I would have."

"Why? Where were you?"

"Where do you think?" Eliana lets out a sharp laugh, bitter and resentful even from afar. "I was the closest thing they had to a damn midwife. Without me, our dear Savior would have been pulled out by dwarves alone. Can you imagine? They've never seen a gap that's not bearded."

"I...I didn't know." He's not lying. Not that he was before, but - this is genuine news to him, in a way her recriminations or her exaggerated crassness, made to offend and infuriate, could never be.

"It's not like they're going around advertising that. I made sure that Snow White wouldn't be having a breech birth, and now that cunt looks down at me like I'm a bad influence on her daughter, and goes asking for Rumpelstiltskin's help. Rumpelstiltskin! There's a laugh."

"I don't think that-"

"Meanwhile, I haven't heard a single apology from my father in thirty years, my mother is now a religious leader, my brother's in shambles, and you're saying you were expecting me to fix everything? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Eliana-"

"But of course, that's what's expected of me, right? Stay out of the story, Lia, help with the birth, Lia, hold back and sweep the floors while your Papa's out on a suicide mission, and don't even think about complaining, gods be good, because you're not the one that matters here-"

"Eliana, enough." Finally, Archie manages to wedge himself in her monologue, and grabs her tentatively by the shoulders, steadying her. "You're right. You and August have been wronged so many times I don't know where to begin fixing it. But you're only hurting yourself now. Breathe."

He half expects her to pull away, but to her great surprise, she doesn't. She merely looks up at him, hair wild and dishevelled, her chest heaving raggedly - he always forgets how small she seems, now that she can't swat him away with a single hand any longer, and rage has brought colour to her cheeks, making her appear oh-so-young, younger even than the age printed on her paperwork here in Storybrooke, which has never been accurate and likely never will be.

It strikes Archie that while August might have tricked her into coming to the office today, she could have left at any time, with his approval or not. She was never one to let herself be stopped by a mere locked door, Eliana. The doctor remembers more than one night spent pacing and fuming after she'd climbed out her bedroom window, torn between warning Geppetto and ensuring she didn't run into any trouble - coercing her into staying wouldn't have gone anywhere, then as well as now. There must be a part of her that needed these words to tumble out of her mouth, that wanted him to listen to them, no matter how small or how deeply hidden inside Eliana.

It's not nearly as comforting as one would be led to think, that realization. He thinks that if he could, he'd willingly trade this moment for any of those terrible days from her teenage years, when her rage would make the milk curdle all around the village and Archie would despair of her ever getting better.

"I needed you," she says simply, hollowly. Her voice has evened out now, calm and controlled, but he can tell it's a thin veneer, a lid being pressed onto a boiling pot. "August needed you both, but I did, too. I thought you could make Father see sense, and then the curse broke and we were right where we started. We thought you were dead, Jiminy. I had to stand at the back of the crowd and watch him give you an eulogy and my brother was still missing and it wasn't fair. You hear me? It wasn't. For any of us."

"I know. I'm sorry. I know apologizing will never be enough, but I am sorry, Eliana. Even for the things I couldn't control."

"I don't want apologies." To his great surprise, the shadow of a grin flashes on her face, fleeting but there all the same. "I want the Dark One's head on a spike, and my mother to piss off the face of Earth, and to smack August on the head for this stupid little game he played. Can you speed up any of those, Dr. Hopper?"

An entirely different brand of tiredness falls onto Archie's shoulders, a familiar one, sure, but heavy nonetheless. If there's one thing Eliana has in common with her brother, it's the fact that they have always had a knack for giving him white hair, even before he had any hair to speak of. "You know I can't approve of your plans. As a therapist, and as your friend."

"Yes, well, it would be better if you were actually my friend." Eliana releases a long, tremulous exhale, closing her eyes for a moment before glancing up at him again, as though steadying herself. "Tragically, you're family. It'd be easier to be angry at you and Father, if you weren't."

"What about your mother and brother?"

This time the smile lingers a bit longer on her lips, something approaching her customary fire in it. "That woman's no family of mine. She should have bitten the bullet and kept me around, if she'd wanted to be. They say wet nurses love fairy babies, but I think Nova would have done well, and she'd have been happy. And August..." She hesitates, pressing her lips together, then clears her throat, shaking her head stiffly. "I don't care what he's done in this world. That's for Emma to forgive, and she did. He's not to blame for any of the bad things that happened to us since he was born."

She fixes that burning purple gaze of hers on him, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. "Can you say the same for yourself, Jiminy? Or for my father?"

For all his experience, Archie has no answer for that question. Eliana must know it as well as him, because after a long moment she nods to herself, then ducks her head and leaves, leaving the door ajar and Pongo whining with his tail tucked between his legs, calling after his playmate.